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#writing for d&d has changed how i look at my own work
guilty-pleasures21 · 2 days
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hellO IT IS I! First off I'd like to start by saying hi! I love your writings; you are my favorite long story writer, and I want to STEAL your creative abilities. Reading one of your series rn actually :D
Just wanted to say that before I tell you: if you aren't taking requests or something in this makes you uncomfortable to just discard. OKAY NOW I HAVE AN IDEA
It's another Miguel fic where reader is also spidey. She's actually one of the more techy ones! Imagine engineer from tf2 but not necessarily Texan and can make things so advanced they nearly trump Miguel's devices, plus she has her own office/shop in the society where she makes stuff for other spideys. Reader can make almost anything with enough time and materials. The funky part is: she's really clumsy. Not like "oh no I dropped this stack of papers" clumsy. I mean ENGINEER CLUMSY. She'll hit her head on things, fall, get hit real bad in battle, eat a not-fully-cooked chicken sandwich, and every time she gets back up like it was nothing because she has high constitution. I'm talking slung across a room in battle, Miguel is screaming her name in concern, and she just. Gets up. And brushes dust off her spidey suit. Or she'll be up somewhere, fall from really high, die for a sec, then get up like nothing happened and go on normally.
Thank you for hearing me, I bow my head to you. Apologies if this was too long. Respect to your efforts, and have a good day/night!
AHHHHH!!! I don't know if you'd believe it, but this is my first Miguel request 🤩!! I don't get a lot of requests, so I'm really happy to take them! It gives me a chance to practise my creative writing skills and also a boost whenever I have writer's block (which happens A LOT as you can probably tell by how up and down my posting is 😅).
Thank you for the compliments! I always get a little worried my writings are too long sometimes, but it's nice to know that people enjoy them!
Okay, so I'm not familiar with TF2, but I did a quick search and I hope I've gotten the general vibe of what you were imagining 🥺!
The engineer
ATSV Miguel × clumsy techie fem!reader
Warnings: None.
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     She leaned over Miguel’s arm to sneak a peek at whatever he’d been working on beside her. “You know, if you re-wired this connection here and took these ones out completely, you could increase the charge while using less power.”
     He turned to her, an incredulous look on his face.  But she just smiled. 
     “Just try it,” she suggested calmly. “You can always change it back if it doesn’t work.”
     “Hmm.” She did have a point; he didn’t have anything to lose by giving it a go. He did as she said, taking out a few of the wires completely, then pulled the trigger on the taser. The end lit up with a spark stronger than it had ever done before and his eyes widened, impressed. “Wow. Good job, arañita.”
     She rolled her eyes, but kept the amused expression on her face. 
     “I’m not your mentee, Miguel.” She turned to face him, then gestured between the both of them. “We’re on the same level. Just say ‘thanks’. Don’t talk down to me like that.”
     She shrugged before returning her attention to her own gadget and Miguel raised his eyebrows: he’d only had people respond to him with anger, meeting him head to head and chastising him for what they perceived as his condescending tone. But she just corrected him like he simply hadn’t known any better. He turned back to his desk, suddenly keenly aware of her warm presence beside him, and the two settled back into their usual comfortable silence. 
     He walked into the cafeteria, unable to ignore his rumbling stomach any longer. But the lunch rush should have been over, so the area shouldn’t have been too crowded by then. His gaze landed on X, seated at a table with Ben, Jess and Peter, and his heart fluttered unexpectedly at the smile on her face. He pushed it down, not wanting to look into it, and walked over to the group. “What are we talking about?”
     She shifted over on her bench, giving Miguel enough space to squeeze in beside her, and her stomach flipped when she caught his now-familiar woodsy scent.  
     “X somehow ate a raw chicken sandwich yesterday and now she says she’s fine!” Ben ousted her immediately. 
     “It was undercooked!” X insisted. But her correction did nothing to ease the thoughts of salmonella that flooded Miguel’s mind. 
     “¡Arañita! You can’t do that! Why didn’t you just come here?!”
     X paused, caught off guard by the rare concern on his chiselled features. 
     “Oh. I was at work! But then I got to go home early.” She gave him a playful nudge, flashing him a conspiratorial smile, and Miguel felt his heart speed up again.
     “¡Arañita!” he scolded her, trying to maintain his hard expression. But she just continued to fix him with that adorable smile and all he found himself able to do was hang his head and sigh. “What are you having for dinner?”
     She twisted in her seat, swinging her leg over the bench to straddle it and face him fully. Miguel ignored the curious glances he noticed the others shooting them out of the corner of his eye and instead focused his attention on X. “Oh, I have some leftover pizza from … two nights ago? I think? So-”
     “You are not eating leftover pizza, X,” he warned her, folding his arms across his chest and scrunching his brows together in a serious expression. X felt her stomach tighten at the way his muscles pressed against his suit, then she glanced away, embarrassed.
     “Um, but …” What were they talking about again? Oh, right! Pizza! She lifted her gaze back to his. “But they’re serving cheeseburgers tonight!” 
     “But you always have your chicken patty,” Miguel pointed out, confused by her response. A few of the Spider’s had different food preferences to the others, so the kitchen staff always made sure to keep a stock of different ingredients.
     “They ran out,” X told him, hanging her head in disappointment.
     “Oh.” Miguel let his arms fall back to his sides, trying to come up with a solution to her predicament. “Well, we can … we can always go out … somewhere … with properly cooked food.” He crossed his arms again as he fixed her with a knowing look and her features broke into a smile. She hopped out of her seat, delighted, but remained standing by his side. 
     “Thanks, Miguel! I’ll meet you back here at seven!” She bent over to press a quick kiss to the side of his head, then ran off before he could process what had just happened. 
     “Uh, what just happened?” Ben asked when Miguel remained frozen in his seat, stunned into silence. Hobie’s lips curled into an amused smirk. 
     “I think boss-man here just asked X out,” he replied. “On a date.” He leaned forward in his seat, wiggling his brows to punctuate his point, and Miguel frowned. 
     “No, I …” He hadn’t asked her on a date. Had he? He’d never explicitly used the word, but … he had invited her to dinner. With him. Outside of work. Ay, mierda, had he just asked her out on a date? 
     Hobie laughed at how flustered the large man had become by the tiny little spider, then he started getting up from the table as well. 
     “Well, you might want to get yourself cleaned up first,” he suggested, nodding at Miguel’s scuffed up suit, the bruise on his cheekbone and the faint trail of stubble dotting his jaw. “I’m not sure if X is into the whole ‘I’ve been awake for the past seventy-two hours wrestling different lowlifes and creeps’ look.” Miguel huffed in irritation. 
     “She’s never-” ‘complained about it before’, was what he’d been about to say. But that would only make it sound like he cared what she thought about him - like he paid attention to what she thought about him. And then they’d only tease him even more about it being a date. He turned away from them, sniffing in offence. “It’s not a date.”
     Jess snickered at his petulant attitude, her features twisted into a knowing expression. 
     “Okay, but you still have to look presentable, right?” she pointed out. “You’re not just going to drag her to any random restaurant in your Spiderman suit, right? Especially if she’s going to be all nicely dressed up.” 
     His body heated up at the thought of her being ‘all nicely dressed up’. What would she wear? He’d never seen her in anything other than her Spidersuit before. But she had some really nice curves - curves he’d find his gaze lingering on for a little too long at times. He shook the thought away, pushing his feelings of excitement aside. 
     “Uh, yeah. Fine. Whatever.” He waved them off, then stood up, shifting in position hesitantly before he walked away. “Message me if you need anything.” He marched away before they could tease him anymore on the subject, but his stomach flipped at the thought of seeing her again later that night. 
     He walked into the workshop, searching for the small form of his- of X. 
     “¿Arañita?” he called into the room when he couldn’t find her. 
     “Workshop!” she yelled from under the table, not knowing whether or not he’d already guessed where she was. “Ugh, where’s my- Ow!” She stood up and rubbed her head where she’d hit it on the underside of the table. And ay, Dios, she looked so cute in her little black dress, her hair neatly done, her features prettily made up. She gave him a sheepish smile as she walked over to him and Miguel felt his heart beat a little faster at the sight. 
     “Sorry, I was just- Whoa!” Her eyes widened in fear as she slipped on her wrench - lying on the floor in front of her - but Miguel shot a web at her, catching her before she fell to the ground. He tugged her towards him, pulling her into his arms, then he huffed in irritation. 
     “Be careful, arañita!” he chastised her. “You’re always … You need to be more aware of your surroundings, X.”
     “Oh! I …” She trailed off, her mind going blank when she realised how close they were now. She took in his long, dark eyelashes, the flecks of gold in his copper-coloured irises, the tiny scar on his cupid’s bow. She swallowed hard as her gaze fixed itself on his lips and Miguel raised an eyebrow, confused by her silence. 
     “¿Arañita?”
     “Huh?” She dragged her eyes back up to his, but her expression remained distracted as she looked up at him. “Oh! Sorry, I …”
     She curled up against his chest, suddenly shy, and his heart sped up as he realised how close they were now: her slender fingers brushing against his chest, her soft curves wrapped up in his arms, her silky hair tickling his neck. He released his hold on her, his body heating up at the feeling of her pressed up against him. Then he turned his gaze away from hers, unconsciously rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “Uh … Are you ready to go?”
     “Oh!” X turned back towards her desk and reached for her handbag. “Let me get my- Hey! I’ve been looking for this!” She picked her drill up off the floor and gave it a little rev to check that it still worked. She smiled when it did, then proceeded to begin shoving the machine into her bag. 
     “What …?” Miguel reached over to take the drill from her and place it down on her desk. Then he fixed her with an exasperated look. “You don’t need a drill on a date, arañita.” He froze when he realised that he’d just referred to it as a ‘date’, but X just grinned and wrapped her arms around his neck. 
     “On the contrary, I think drilling is the perfect activity for a date, Miguel.” He sucked in a breath at her naughty suggestion, his fingers gripping her waist tightly, and she bit her lip at the feeling. 
     “Uh,” he stammered out, his voice hoarse from all the dirty thoughts running through his mind at the feeling of her brushing up against him again. “Let’s … I …”
     X snickered at his nervousness and stretched onto her toes to press a kiss to his cheek. “Let’s go, amor!” 
     She giggled at the word as she began making her way over to the door and Miguel felt his heart skip a beat as he followed after her. 
     “¡Arañita!” Miguel called to her, narrowly avoiding Doc Ock’s outstretched tentacle as he swung between the buildings. “Use your bubble gun thing!”
     “I’m trying, amor!” X yelled back, hitting her gadget from where she stood on a nearby balcony. “Ugh! I need …” She searched her surroundings, trying to find a tool she could use to un-jam the damn thing. Then she spotted the glint of a coin lying on the floor. She cheered at the sight, then swung off the balcony to go get it. But Doc Ock caught her just as she leapt off the edge, swinging his tentacle at her and smashing her into a wall. 
     “¡Arañita!” Miguel screamed, flying after her as she began falling to the ground. He caught her just before she hit the hard floor, then set her back down on her legs, wrapping her up tightly in his arms. “¡Querida! I told you to be more careful!” 
     X shook her head, disoriented by the hit. “I’ll … I’ll be more careful, Miguel. I need that coin!” 
     She pointed at the shimmering object and Miguel shot a web at it to pull it over them. X flashed him a sheepish smile as he handed it to her, vividly imagining the exasperated expression he was probably wearing beneath his mask right that second. “Oh, right.”
     “Hmm.” Miguel squeezed her hand before swinging himself back up into the air and slicing one of the villain’s tentacles off with the blades attached to his suit. X gulped at the way his lean body twirled and flew through the air, then she fixed her gun and took aim. 
     “Take that, you- What?!” She groaned as she found herself trapped in the mound of sticky bubbles that had shot out of the gun and right at her - she’d accidentally aimed it at herself instead. “Shit!” 
     Miguel turned to his girlfriend when he heard her screech of frustration, then he sighed and pressed a button on his watch. The bubbles slipped off her suit immediately, freeing her and leaving her in a confused state. 
     “What? How …?” 
     “I made some adjustments to your suit, cariño,” Miguel informed her, swinging over Doc Ock to slice off another of his tentacles. “Just as a precaution.”
     X gasped, horrified by the thought of someone messing with her stuff. “You what?! You touched my suit?!!”
     “Well, yeah!” Miguel responded quickly, not knowing what the big deal was - he’d touched her suit many times before already. And she’d never complained then. “I knew you'd somehow get yourself into a situation like this!”
     X huffed and folded her arms across her chest. What if he messed up all her codes? Or altered the layout of her suit in some way? What if she pressed a button to activate one of her gadgets and it did something else instead? Ugh! Now she'd have to go back and remake her entire suit! How inconsiderate of her boyfriend! Were boyfriends supposed to be this inconsiderate? Or was hers just especially nosy? “Now I'm gonna have to go back and remake my entire suit!”
     Miguel landed in front of her, his confusion obvious even through his mask. “What? Why?”
     “Because!” she exclaimed, aiming her gun at Doc Ock as he took another swing at her. “How do I know you didn't fiddle with one of my settings?!” She pressed the trigger and this time, she reached her intended target. Doc Ock twisted his neck around, trying to free his appendages from the mass of gelatinous goo. Miguel crossed his arms, amused by the cute little glare his girlfriend shot at him. 
     “Oh, you mean like how you always do with my stuff?” he pointed out. X’s jaw dropped at the accusation. 
     “W-What?” she stammered out. “I'm not ‘fiddling’! I'm ‘improving’ …” 
     She sniffed and gave a little pout, offended by his dismissal of her enhancing his gadgets as ‘fiddling’ with them. But could he be right? Was this how he felt whenever she started playing around with one of his gadgets? But that was just a gadget, not his entire suit! But maybe she hadn't been so considerate either. She bit her lip as she peeked up at him, picturing the smug smirk on his face. She sighed. “Fine. I'll stop-”
     “No,” Miguel interrupted her, making his way over to the struggling Doc Ock. “Don't even pretend like you aren't just gonna keep on messing with my stuff, arañita.”
     X narrowed her eyes at him and frowned as she followed behind. “You're so mean, Miguel.”
     He walked into the workshop just as his girlfriend handed one of the Peter’s back his web shooters. 
     “There! It should be as good as new. Better, even! But don’t tell Miguel.” She grinned mischievously and Miguel felt his heart flutter at the sight. Peter shot a few webs at the ceiling, testing out the repaired gadget, and his eyes widened with admiration. 
     “Whoa! That’s great! Thanks, X!”
     “No problem!” She waved at him as he left the room, then her features lit up when she saw Miguel walking over to her. She ran over to him and he swiftly webbed away a stray screwdriver before she could trip over it. He should really look into putting motion detectors on her tools or something - programme an alarm to go off every time she got too close to one of them. “¡Querido! ¿Qué tal, mi amor?”
     He wrapped her up in a hug as she slid her arms around his neck, then she pulled back slightly and stretched onto her toes to peck his lips. Miguel bent over, resting his forehead on hers, and narrowed his eyes. “Mmm. Better than mine, hmm?”
     His girlfriend giggled and Miguel’s lips stretched wider at the sound. He slid his hands down her back, stopping when he reached her ass, and X sank into his chest, leaning into his touch. 
     “Oh!” She straightened, suddenly remembering something. Miguel kept his hands glued to her waist as she bounced over to her desk and grabbed her tablet. 
     “So, I've been trying to be more aware of my surroundings - like you told me to?” She twisted around in his arms and glanced up from her tablet, a proud expression on her face. “And my accident rate has dropped by seventy six percent in the last three months!”
     Miguel grinned, not pointing out that that was the same amount of time that they’d been officially dating and that he’d gotten familiar enough with her quirks to anticipate her clumsiness. Instead, he tightened his grip around her, pulling her back into his chest so she had to crane her neck back to look up at him. “What about the other twenty four percent?”
     She laughed at the way he murmured it against her lips, his voice smooth and suggestive. Then she pressed her lips back to his and smiled. “No one can be completely free of accidents, Miguel. I'm only human. I'm not perfect.”
     “You're perfect to me, querida,” he retorted. X let out another soft giggle and stretched onto her toes to shower her boyfriend with soft kisses. 
     “And you to me, cariño.”
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zedecksiew · 3 months
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DECOLONISING D&D
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In 2019, after seeing yet another round of alarmist discourse in Xwitter about how Dungeons & Dragons is FULL of COLONIALIST tropes and patterns, and needs to be revised, SCRUBBED of its PROBLEMATIC FILTH---I rage-tweeted this brainfart:
"Decolonising D&D"
I've seen this thread round the community, since. Humza K quotes it in Productive Scab-picking: On Oppressive Themes in Gaming. Prismatic Wasteland quotes it in Apolitical RPGs Don't Exist. Most recently, it was referenced in a 1999AD post about Western TTRPGs (an interesting discussion on its own merit; one that already has a counterpoint from Sandro / Fail Forward.)
If folks are still referring to it five years later, maybe I should give the thread a little more credit? Perhaps the fart miasma has crystalised into something concrete.
In the interest of record / saving this thought from the ephemerality of Xwitter, here is the text in full, properly paragraphed, and somewhat more cleanly expressed:
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"DECOLONISING D&D"
Firstly: saying "D&D is colonialist" is similar to saying: "the English language is colonialist".
If your method of decolonising RPGs is to abandon D&D---well, some folks abandon English; they don't want to work in the language of the coloniser. More power to them!
For those who want to continue using the "language" of D&D---
Going forth into the "wild hinterland" (as if this weren't somebody's homeland);
to "seek treasure" (as if this didn't belong to anybody);
and "slay monsters" (monsters to whom?)
Yeah. There's some problematic stuff here, and definitely these aspects should make more people uncomfortable.
But! I think it is an error to "decolonise D&D" by scrubbing such content from the game.
That feels like erasure; like an unwillingness to face history / context; like a way to appease one's own settler guilt.
Do you live in the West? Do you live in any Asian urban metropole? White or Person of Colour(tm)---you are already complicit in colonialist / capitalist (yes, of course they are inextricably linked) behaviour. (I can't speak for urban metropoles elsewhere, but I bet they are similar centres of extraction.)
Removing such patterns from the TTRPGs you play might let you feel better, at your game table. But won't change what you are.
I think it is more truthful and more useful NOT to avert one's eyes from D&D's colonialism.
The fact that going forth into the hinterland to seek treasure and slay monsters is a thing, and fucking fun, tells us valuable things about the shape and psychology of colonialism. Why conquistadors in the past did it; why liberal foreign policy, corporations, and post-colonial societies do it today.
Speaking personally:
I write stuff that evokes / deals with the context I'm in---Southeast Asia. An intrinsic part of that is looking at the ways colonial violence has happened to us---as well as the ways / reasons we now, supposedly free, perpetrate it on others.
A long chain of suffering. Heavy stuff.
I also write for people who want to have fun / kill monsters / pretend to be elves, of course. But for those people who want to consider serious stuff like colonialism: I offer no FIGHT THE POWER righteousness, no good feeling, no answers.
Only discomfort. Because the truth is uncomfortable.
Here's a screenshot of the Author's Note for Lorn Song of the Bachelor:
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"Any text inspired by Southeast Asia has to reckon with colonialism ... This text presents a difficult situation; there are no easy solutions. "... If I offered a mechanical incentive for you to fight colonial invaders, you wouldn’t be making a moral decision, but a mercenary one. "The choice you face should echo ... the kind of calculus my grandparents faced."
I stand by that.
Also: might we be more precise and more careful about using the term "decolonising", please?
Here I quote Tuck and Yang's landmark and (sadly) still trenchant "Decolonization is not a metaphor":
"Decolonization brings about the repatriation of Indigenous land and life; it is not a metaphor for other things we want to do to improve our societies ..."
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Further Reading
So this post isn't just me reheating a hot take, here are some touchstone writings from around the TTRPG community about colonialism as a subject and mode of play in games:
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"Jim Corbett was called upon to hunt down another fifty maneaters over the course of the next 35 years. Together, those tigers had killed over 2000 people, for much the same reasons as the Champawat Tiger - injury, desperation, starvation, and habitat loss. Would you look at that. The root cause was British colonialism."
D&D Doesn't Understand What Monsters Are from Throne of Salt
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"Another effect of having colonizers in my setting would be giving players the opportunity to drive them away from the islands, their home. This maybe just be for the catharsis. After all, isn’t catharsis a big part of why we play roleplaying games?"
I’m Adding Colonizers To My Setting from Goobernut's Blog
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"When you have a slime boy and the other characters are a really fat lizard and one's playing Humpty Dumpty, it completely shatters the straight-faced serious authoritarian illusion of race, and replaces it with complete fucking nonsense. I love the idea of proliferating the number and types of "races" into absurdity, to the point where the entire logical structure of it collapses in on itself and race as a category ceases to become coherent or meaningful in any sense."
Interview with Ava Islam - Designer of the RPG Errant from Ava Islam / The Lost Bay
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"Perhaps most critically, the fundamental basis of power is not land or even money but manpower. That’s what local rulers fight over, and what Chinese commercial networks export, in return for unique island products. It’s what the European colonists really need (even if it’s not what they most desire). There is rich loot to be grabbed in the form of spices, Spanish silver, Indian gold, sea cucumbers (the Chinese love ’em), perfumes, dyes, cloth etc. so there’s ample opportunity for piracy, trade and smuggling, but the key to long-term success – the key to independent survival – is nakedly and unquestionably uniting people."
Counter-colonial Heistcrawl: previous high scores from Richard's Dystopian Pokeverse
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"They worked their own land—which they dispossessed from American Indians—or became small shop owners or opportunistic gold diggers or bounty hunters or itinerant ranchers. To me, substituting these situations for one ruled by industrial monopoly ignores that the Wild West is a perfect example of how capitalism operates outside of (or prior to) mass industry, instead being composed of self-employers and self-sustainers."
Fantastic Detours - Frontier Scum from Traverse Fantasy / Bones of Contention
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"... using the Western framing and D&D's baked-in imperialist and capitalist structure to get people earnestly participating in the experience of forming imperial power structures and the early roots of regional capitalism ... The PCs aren't the drifters on the train or the townsfolk watching with apprehension - they're the railroad itself."
An Arrow for the General: Confronting D&D-as-Western in the Kalahari from A Most Majestic Fly Whisk
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morallyinept · 2 months
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Azalea - A Lucien Flores One Shot
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Summary: A man from your past shows up at a party and leaves you on the cusp of making a life changing choice. Do you stay, or do you leave with him?
Pairing: Lucien Flores x F!Reader (No name or physical description of reader. It’s you, bub. However Reader has hair long enough to be brushed over their shoulder and wears a dress.)
Word Count: 4.8k
Scoville Smut Rating:🌶️🌶️🌶 “You tell me I’m doing well, and then, you try to kill me”
Check out my Scoville Smut Ratings here.
Warnings/Triggers: Unprotected PIV (wrap up, folks!)/fingering/oral F recieving/mild ass play/kissing/infidelity/mentions of past issues with alcolholism and addiction/toxic relationship traits/unrequited love and longing/Lucien's chains come with their own warning
NSFW. MINORS DNI! OVER 18’s ONLY. YOU ARE SOLELY RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU READ.☝🏻Don’t come at me; you’ve been plenty warned.
I write for me, and I share with you. If this story isn't to your taste, that's fine. Just slip quietly out the back door. No need to make a fuss. It's just a work of fiction.
Author’s Note: I get the sense (from the little clips we've seen of Lucien so far) that he's in love, and probably loves hard, and is messy and complicated with a turbulent past, and isn't a bad guy at all. So here he is, my version. I hope you like him. 😘 (I've used some of his lines from the clips we've seen too.)
MAIN MASTERLIST | LUCIEN FLORES MASTERLIST | FLORA & FAUNA MASTERLIST
Enjoy! 🖤
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As guests mingle and laughter fills the air in the grand house, you can’t shake off the heavy feeling of discontent grinding sharply around your teeth.
As you stand invisible amongst the cluster of your braying friends, you can't help but cast a wistful gaze back towards the brown eyes staring at you from across the room, loitering casually with a hand in his pocket and lips wrapped around a cigarette.
It makes your skin itch and pickle that he's here.
How is it that he’s fucking here?
He’s like a ghost haunting the hollows of your bones. A constant white noise that only you can hear.
He looks good, well. Better.
He has colour in the capillaries of his cheeks again, and the way he stands is different, he seems taller somehow, a little more grey and wispy, but still handsome. He’s put on a little weight, a small paunch evidence of that. He appears more foreboding with those squared-off shoulders in their thick broadness.
He smirks at you, he never smiles. Just smirks, crookedly and you look away immediately. Those itches and prickles melting into warm heat that floods down your spine.
Fuck, why is he here?
You turn your attention to Mitch, basking in the spotlight of adulation. His animated gestures and booming laughter echo out through the open windows, mingling with the soft strains of music drifting from within the dining room.
Guests cluster around him, hanging onto his every word; their faces alight with admiration and respect. And it makes you fucking sick.
You slip away unnoticed, carrying a bottle of open and warm champagne, seeking solace amidst the blood red azaleas in the expansive garden.
You’re drinking from the bottle of flattening fizz bitterly, leaving your partner toasting his fortune and parry, and there’s tension swirling around your gut that hasn’t died down since the vicious verbal spat you endured the previous night with him.
Your jaw still aches from clenching it all night.
As the celebration in the house continues, the siren call of the garden seems to provide a contrasting haven for you amidst the vibrant azalea bushes that grow plush and full.
An immediate sense of relief washes over your clammy skin, being away from the pomp and grandeur of the party inside, where Mitch holds court with his characteristic charisma. Mitch is a man of stature, exuding an air of confidence that borders on total arrogance.
Tonight's gathering is, after all, in honour of the recent success of his book - a testament to his hard ambition and callous drive. You have no idea what it’s about. You’ve not read it, tiring of your opinions and input being constantly quashed.
Mitch moves through the crowd with ease, regaling guests with anecdotes of his success and achievements, which doesn’t care to highlight the months of patience and suffering you’ve endured whilst he wrote it; his crackling laughter mingling with the clinking of glasses and the hum of vibrant conversation.
Despite the outward display of celebration, you can't shake off the underlying tautness swirling in your gut, lingering from the fight that still hovers between you both. Mitch's ego often overshadows the relationship, and controls it, leaving your own feelings and desires overlooked and unappreciated.
And as you find welcome loneliness in the garden, a fucking moment to just breathe, you can't help but wonder if Mitch has even noticed your absence amidst the ass-kissing bestowed upon him.
Well, it's all about having the right mindset, you see. I've always been driven by success, and I refuse to settle for anything less than the best...
You roll your eyes at Mitch's self-congratulatory tone that follows out the windows and berates you further. It’s moments like these that remind you of the growing chasm between you, feeling a pang of disconnection, a sense of longing for something more profound than the superficial trappings of hollow success.
You find yourself retreating deeper into the shadows of the garden, seeking pause amidst the fragrant blooms with the champagne bottle as your only companion.
And then, startled by a familiar voice, one that grates on you for completely different reasons, you find yourself vis-a-vis with your ex-boyfriend, Lucien Flores, who’s unabashedly shown up uninvited.
Somehow inserting himself back into your life in blocks of time to taunt you further no doubt. The tension between you is palpable as you exchange awkward looks amidst the blossoming flowers under the moonlit sky.
His molten brown eyes are soft and deep as he smirks in your direction as you cast an aloof glace over your shoulder at him that is anything but. You swig on the bottle like his presence hasn’t jangled your nerves tenfold, but you both know that it has.
You can feel his eyes wandering and burning holes across your body framed in a cascade of vibrant crimson fabric; its rich hue contrasting beautifully against the wild backdrop of the garden. With every step, the hem of the dress brushes against the dew-kissed grass as you turn from him and head further into the darker recesses of the plush oasis.
Lucien follows, checking behind him to make sure you’re both still alone.
Lush greenery envelopes the space, with vibrant bursts of blood colour provided by the clusters of azalea bushes in full bloom, their delicate petals casting a gentle fragrance into the air. He watches as your fingers brush through their leaves and velvety heads as you pass.
Stone pathways wind their way through the verdant landscape, leading to secluded alcoves, where you find yourself now with Lucien’s presence engulfing the small space.
“This isn't really a good time for your bullshit, Lucien." You say, as you drink from the bottle again, feeling a trickle of its nectar within roll down your chin.
“I wanted to see you, amante," (lover) he says, nonchalantly.
You wince at the endearing nickname he used to shower you with, whispers of it keening from a set of explorative lips as they inked the affectionate moniker under your skin.
“Really.” You snort rather ungraciously. “Why are you even here?”
He drags on the last of his cigarette, smoke billowing from pink lips, before flicking it away, its embers dying in the night. “Can we talk?”
You shake your head adamantly. “We never just talk. You know I'm with someone else now."
“Yeah. Mitch.” He nods over to the house, the party still in full swing. “Quite the catch.” He slurs with a strained hiss, then smirks.
“He wants kids,” you scoff.
And Lucien’s face softens. “You’d be a great mom.”
“I don’t want to be a mom.” You confirm and he nods.
“I know. That's why I got the snip.” His eyebrow flexes in sympathy. “Remember that summer in Tuscany?”
You shake your head again. “We never went to Tuscany.”
He thinks for a second through the haze and frowns. “No, that’s right. That was Annabelle.” He corrects with a dip in his cheeks. He simply clicks his tongue at his mistake.
“Right. Annabelle.” You bristle. “How is she these days?” Although you don’t really care.
“We should go.”
“To Tuscany?” You baulk.
“Yeah, let's go. Right now. Slip away.” He suggests with a warm seriousness.
“Lucien-”
“Kiss me.” He steps in gently and you place a palm on his chest; the silk of his shirt like fluid under your touch.
Your eyes trail over the shiny watercolour of it, the way it hangs flimsy and baggy at the hem before you brave yourself to trail upwards over the familiar shape of his chest and exposed collarbone, shiny with sweat in the hollow. A duo of gold chains knotted around one another twinkle at you before your eyes find his own.
“You are so unfair.” You shake your head despondently.
“You’ve wanted to kiss me since you saw me tonight.” Lucien states, casually. You feel him take the bottle from your fingers and he drinks a mouthful of it for himself.
“I thought you were sober.” You frown.
“I am, but I still drink.”
You roll your eyes as he clears his throat and puts the bottle down.
“I don’t even know why you’re here tonight. Who invited you?” You question with a knitted brow. You’re pretty certain he doesn't know anyone here. Except you.
You he knows really well. Too well.
He looks at you for a moment, head dipped and cocked to one side as if taking you all in.
“You’re not happy.” Lucien says, brushing your hair over your shoulder and it lingers there, his fingers in your roots gently massaging.
You turn, your nose brushing the inside of his wrist and inhale the scents there. The sun, the natural salt musk of his skin, cigarettes. You close your eyes just basking in the innocent feel of him. He was always so generous with his touch.
“No, I'm not.” You turn your face up to meet his. You can't lie to him, not when he sees you - really sees you. “But I wasn’t happy with you either.”
“I am sober.” He reassures, dropping his hand. “Eight months. I have control of my life now.”
“Right.” You fold in on yourself. You can’t go there. You refuse to go there.
“I came here to apologise to you.” Lucien says, stepping back and casting his glance down the pathway back at the house and its design.
“Is that what your sponsor suggested you do?” You remark.
“Is it Venetian?” He asks.
From the outside, the house exudes an air of opulence, with its intricate facade adorned with ornate columns and graceful archways reminiscent of palazzos.
You shrug, watching him carefully as he frowns.
“I never knew Mitch had such exquisite taste." Lucien smirks with a sneer.
“He doesn’t. It’s his parent’s second home. We’re renting it for the summer. His stupid book tour.” You mutter.
"Pshoo. Fancy." He shakes his head. “No, my sponsor didn’t tell me to come here to apologise to you.”
He turns back to you, his features soft and moulding into concern at your watery eyes looking back at him.
“You seem... melancholy." You feel his thumbs stroke either side of your face and this time you don’t stop him. Just helplessly letting those rough, calloused pads swipe over the skin under your eyes.
“You’re all glittery and sad,” Lucien says, looking at the metallic shadow brushed delicately over your eyelids.
“Why are you doing this?” You query, deflating. Surrendering.
“Doing what?”
“Torturing me.”
“You think this is torture?” Lucien asks, stroking your cheeks delicately. “It got dark. I wanted to see the sun again.”
Your breath catches in your throat as he presses a long, lingering kiss to your forehead.
A phantom sensation dances across your skin - a gentle caress, feather-light and tender in its hesitation. In that brief, ethereal moment, you feel transported back to a time when what you and Lucien had was untarnished by the shadows of addiction and betrayal - a time when his touch had been a balm to your weary heart.
And you missed the sun too.
He walks with you, guiding you backwards to the craggy, stone wall encased in the curve of the dark. You can still see his eyes as they drop to your lips and you remember the taste of him, choking on the smoke of him as he draws nearer to your face.
A hushed conversation stirs your attention from the other side of the wall. A faint, muffled voice drifts through the thick stone wall, and your heart clenches as you recognize Mitch's unmistakable tone.
Lucien covers your mouth gently with an engulfing, warm hand as he ghosts his nose gently over the skin of your neck.
It's hard to focus as you inhale a faint remant of his heady cologne, but on the other side of the wall you can hear your partner Mitch on the phone; his voice dripping with honeyed affection that he hasn’t used with you for a long time.
Lucien pulls back as you push against his chest, standing straight, his palm flat against the wall above your head as he listens out curiously with you.
I can’t stop thinking about you either, darling…
Lucien’s eyes drop to yours, his smirk dipping. “He’s fucking someone else?” He mouths.
You nod. You’ve suspected it for a while now and are only more confounded as to why you haven’t left him yet.
"Pendejo." (Asshole/idiot) Lucien bites in a growl.
As he’s speaking beyond the wall to his clandestine lover, Lucien pulls back, standing upright and shaking his head.
Your hands clench into fists at your sides, your nails digging into your palms as Mitch waves his infidelity around the garden so casually.
His voice eventually fades out and Lucien takes one of your fists, unkinks your fingers, and brings your palm up to his mouth where he kisses it gently, eyes lancing at you, deep and entracing.
“Fuck him. Come with me to Tuscany.” Lucien drawls.
You wrinkle your nose. “What about Annabelle?”
He shrugs. “It didn’t work out.”
“Why am I not surprised?” You snort.
“Wasn’t the drinking.” He says, shaking his head and cupping your hand in between both of his ginormous ones. “Sober, remember?”
“You just drank from the champagne, I'm not an idiot.”
“Proof.” He says. “Proof that I can control it now.”
“You’ll never be able to control it.”
He nods. “Yeah, not without help. And I have help.”
You sigh and he looks at you earnestly pressing your hands to his chest. You can feel the ribbing of his heartbeat underneath them.
“I ended things with Annabelle ages ago.”
“Why? She was good for you.”
He breaks off with a garbled sigh amd swallows. You watch as he stares intonthe distance, and then he smirks.
“Do you remember when you threw my keys over the fence?”
“Don’t change the subject. Why did you leave her?” You say, fearing the answer.
“She’s not… you.” Lucien kisses your palm again and you can only watch him. Watch, rooted to the spot, heart thudding as he kisses slowly up your wrist and arm.
"I can't be with someone I don't love." He says simply.
You know it’s empty promises and hollow words as he paints this fantasy of a forever with him on your skin with his hot tongue. And it’s an illusion you’ll happily let yourself fall into for a while because it seems almost better than your current reality.
So you kiss him back. Pulling him by the lapels of his thin shirt until his lips are felt against yours, desperately.
He kisses you like the first time, when he was unsure and flighty. Before he became the man who broke your heart and left you walking barefoot on the shards of it.
His hands roam your face, cupping your cheek, thumbs stroking again as you feel his body crush against yours. Hips winding into your belly as he gasps around the taste of your lips.
You both part, panting and wanting, his deep eyes searching you out. He knows you’re in there somewhere, knows you’re better than this life, and also the one he tried - and failed - to give you.
Amidst the confusing turmoil, you can't ignore the unspoken longing lingering between you both, a palpable undercurrent of tension and desire on both parts.
He’s crushed tightly against you, bleeding into the shadows of the stone wall propped up behind you and your skin alike. You can almost feel the thrum of his heartbeat against yours, aquiline nose brushing up the side of your jaw inhaling the sweet scents of you that make his mouth water and his cock stiffen into your gut.
His hand pulls at the silk of your belt and your dress falls open, cascades of rich velvet and silk opening for his hands to roam gently over your naked skin.
You feel a rush of warmth flood your body despite the cool breeze puckering your nipples - warmth at the way Lucien looks at you, marvelling at you.
At the way he touches you, reigniting the sparks that you ensured you snuffed out a long time ago. You shudder at Lucien’s tender touch, the way his fingertips barely glide across your exposed skin, your weak heart fluttering in response to the raw vulnerability you see reflected back in his eyes.
You find yourself leaning into Lucien’s touch, finding solace and comfort in the unspoken connection that has always lingered between you both, despite everything. In that moment, amidst the fragrant blooms and the moonlit shadows, that small nagging thought mutates, that perhaps the love you’d always been searching for had been right here, in his stacked arms all along.
You shake your head, quickly gathering your wits and wrapping the dress around your body.
“We can’t do this.” You croak, trying to convince yourself of it despite all the blood in your veins rushing towards your centre and throbbing like a jungle drum.
“Yes we can.” Lucien assures. “I’ve fucking missed you, amante.”
It stops you in your tracks.
The words hang in the air, sharp and raw, teetering on the edge of a dreamy possibility that you’ve only allowed yourself to relive in the dark corners of your mind in quiet moments of a self-loathing masochism you allow yourself to harbour.
You feel his thick fingers on the tips of yours, a delicate yet invading touch that spreads its poison quickly and renders your resolve to crumble at your feet.
Any thoughts of regret are pushed aside as you wrap your arms around him and kiss him again.
Lucien worships your body as he trails his mouth over your naked breasts, sucking nipples into his mouth as he pushes you back against the wall. You gasp, already squirming and clenching as his lips leave more devastation.
He makes out with your stomach, dipping his tongue lavishly into your belly button as he sinks to his knees. Your fingers knot in his hair, tugging gently as you wind fluffed, messy curls around them.
Lucien turns you with ease in his large hands, gathering your dress to the side, and kisses across your butt, biting the pert cheeks of them softly into his mouth as his hands pry them apart and his tongue makes lewd discoveries that make you gasp into the wall.
He crushes you to him, wrapping his arms around your thighs and forcing his face further in between your cheeks as you reach behind and rake desperately through his hair.
Running his tongue around the tight knot of your skin, and your mind can't help to revisit all the times when he claimed it with his fingers and cock too.
He kisses over the dimples of your thighs, all around them, under them, the backs of your knees - just everywhere and anywhere he can run his scuffed lips against.
Turning you again, he stares at your cunt inches from his nose, that’s soaking through the flimsy, black lace panties you’re wearing.
“He doesn’t fucking deserve you.” Lucien growls, looking up at you. “I don’t fucking deserve you.”
“No, you don’t.” You breathe resolutely. But you pull your panties aside and he gasps as you yank him forward by the back of his head.
He groans out in sweet relief as soon as his tongue makes contact, swiping into your soaked folds.
His hands run up the back of your thighs as he squeezes your ass, pushing your sopping cunt further onto his mouth.
“Yes, Lucien, get in there… get right in there,” you pant as your eyes roll back.
You struggle to stay upright, your body like jelly as you feel yourself slipping against the ragged stone wall against your skin.
He pries you open with his thumbs, licking over the shiny, wet bead of your clit and your thighs shakes uncontrollably. He brutally sucks it, flicking his tongue over and over in his determination to make you unravel.
He won’t stop until you come, you know this. He always was a generous lover in carefree abundance. Far from what you’re used to now - Mitch hasn't touched you in months, and the thought of it makes your skin crawl.
Lucien’s tongue works you up quickly, lapping and gliding expertly as he mouths on you exquisitely. You hear him grunt in hunger and want as he pulls you onto him further; his blunt fingertips pressing bruises into your ass cheeks as he grips tighter onto you, your hips winding into his face.
“Lucien…” you whine as you bubble and brew.
His eyes look up at you, mouth and nose buried into your core as you come; the silvery moon bathing your face in sweet, adoring kisses through its crescent smile as your body heats and your bones shake.
He lets you taste it as he rises up and kisses you, slipping his honey coated tongue back between your lips as you groan.
"Taste so fucking good." He groans.
His fingers attack your pussy, sliding in and pumping fast as you gasp. Clutching onto his shoulders, the silk bunches up around them in knotted waterfalls spilling over your knuckles as you claw and squeeze.
“Come for me again, baby.” Lucien encourages in a low, deep tone. Eyes watching you as the shadows of the alcove play over his ragged face like Rorschach inkblots.
“I’m gonna fuck you right here, amante,” he grunts as you squeeze and contract around his fingers brushing over your spot. “And then I’m gonna take you away from here, away from that piece of shit, and fuck you again. And again.”
“Lucien, please…” you whimper.
“We belong together, baby. I fucking love you.” He mumbles into your lips. “I never stopped. Not once. And I know you didn’t either. And I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, baby... come for me, that's it, let go... come... Fuck, you're so beautiful.”
You cry out as your orgasm floods your body and his fingers. Your body shakes beyond your control, eyes glazed over and lost in a tumble of his sweet ramblings and bewitching ministrations.
“Come here.” Lucien reaches to his fly as he kisses your neck. His heady grunts sound like gravel in your ears, breath warming you with the acrid scent of smoke seeping into your pores.
He hoists your leg up over his thick arm, his hand coming to rest on your face again as you feel him run his cock through your folds. He dips his hips low as he breaks on through inside you.
“You feel that, you feel that all the way?” He asks, as he slides all the way in and out again.
“Lucien!” You gasp, your lips nipping onto his as you feel him pack you out. You never forgot the feel of him, so hard and thick.
"That's it, baby. Back where I belong."
His pants are desperate; puffy little breaths that soon grow into laboured whines of lusty need. Drunk off of you completely, sobriety smashed in an instant.
He vowed to stay away, to let you heal and move on, but he’s selfish. He knows he is. He can’t abstain, can’t ever quit you. It’s why he’s here, fucking another man’s woman because he’s selfish. Sabotaging every relationship he’s had since you, trapped in that cycle.
Basking in the addictive feel of your cunt squeezing around him as you come, watching as your eyes soar into the sky, howling his name into his mouth as he tastes your tongue and sucks on it greedily.
"Fuck, you feel so good." He grunts.
He comes inside you, filing you full, but he still keeps pumping, still keeps himself buried inside of you, fucking deep and slow. Unable to pull himself out of you, unable to be parted from you now that he has you back inside his hands.
You clutch on tighter to him, not wanting this to end; wanting to indulge in this secret shame in the back of the garden you've allowed yourself to wallow freely in.
He feels so good, so warm and thick. He peppers your face with kisses, the silk scruff of his jawline smooth against your cheeks. Your fingers coil in the curls behind his ears and the back of his bronzed neck, damp with sweat.
They tangle in the chains, one that you're pretty certain in your cock-addled haze that was a gift from you that he still wears - you pull him closer to you still.
“Come inside me again, Lucien,” you whisper as he pecks over your face gently.
“I wanna spend forever coming inside of you,” he whispers back, voice breaking.
And you know he means it. He always means what he says, it's just the follow through is often lost in translation. He’s not a bad man, you know this in your heart.
You spent days convincing your reflection in the mirror that he's not a bad man; he was just weak when you needed him to be strong - an unravelling mess. But he was your mess for time.
And now that he’s inside you again like this, so uncouthly unperturbed that anyone could venture down here and see him claiming you, you know a part of you still loves him too.
You believed it when he said he loved you and you suspect he probably hasn’t loved anyone else like he loved you.
It was raw, unfiltered. Intense. You know it because you felt it too. It hurt, viscerally. Consumed you both and spit you out.
A gaping wound that you’ve not been able to stitch up and every day you’re bleeding out. You wanna tell him how much it fucking hurt to watch him willingly drown, inadvertently pulling you under with him.
You want to lash out and scratch at his beautiful face, slap him and bite and bruise him like he bruised you.
But instead you kiss him, you hear him falter and become weak inside your ear and he groans and whimpers your name as he comes once more.
You let him flood you again, feel it dripping down your thighs, thick and warm as he stains your skin with him all over again.
In the afterglow of your post-coital bliss, your hand traces the contours of his weathered face, running lightly through the wiry greys along his jaw.
Lucien nestles into your palm, lips finding the skin to press in a kiss.
You want to believe it, you want to believe he’s changed and grown and learnt. That he's spent time reflecting, healing.
But you're still marred with the splinters of hurt that’ve lacerated your heart.
Looking into the rich, warm browns of melted chocolate, flecked with golden hues that dance like sunlight on water, you allow yourself to remember the days when Lucien was your everything.
When his gruff, nicotine soaked laughter was the sound that filled your days, and his touch chased away any fears you could harbour.
The ways he would fuck you for hours into the night; his sweat soaking into your skin, as you gnawed on his shoulder, like perfume you’d wear for days without showering him away.
You remember the first time you noticed the signs - the subtle scent of hard liquor on his breath, the empty bottles hidden away in the depths of your home in the most unusual of places. At first, you’d dismissed it as stress or a passing phase, but as the weeks turned into months, the truth became impossible to ignore.
You’d watched helplessly as Lucien spiralled further into the grip of his addiction, his once-charming demeanour giving way to bouts of anger and despair that would paint your bathroom in plumes of his vomit. You remember the sleepless nights spent drowning in tears, the ache in your chest that refused to relent, the biting emptiness that hollowed out your soul into a pair of unblinking eyes and a heart cemented over.
You wonder if that’s why you’re with Mitch now. Wonder if perhaps that this is all you deserve; that you’ll never be happy, so what's the point in trying to fight for it?
The nights had become endless cycles of fear and uncertainty, each day a desperate struggle to hold your crumbling world together. You’d become withdrawn, adept at hiding the truth from your friends and family, plastering on a smile to conceal the pain.
But amidst the chaos and despair, there had been moments of hope - fleeting glimpses of the man you had once loved, the man buried beneath the weight of his addiction and trying to swim out of it.
And though you had often questioned your decision to stay as long as you did, you can't deny the flicker of love that still burns within you for him, the belief that perhaps, just perhaps, there’s still a chance for redemption.
And you hate yourself for allowing your mind to go there.
Lucien reaches to the bush and plucks an azalea off the stem and combs it behind your ear.
“Beautiful.” He says with a smile. Not a smirk, a smile.
“I can’t go back to that place, Lucien.” You say, shaking your head.
You stare out at the house and the sounds of music and chatter still tinkle down the pathway towards you both.
“I know,” he says, running a hand through his hair listlessly.
You untangle the flower from your hair and look at it resting in your palm, the velvety petals smoothed out under your thumb as you stroke.
“But you can’t stay here, either.” His voice pulls you from your swampy thoughts.
"No," you agree. You turn to glance back at the house.
“Come with me,” Lucien pleads softly, deep eyes searching yours out. "What's stopping you, baby?"
Fingertips on your chin tilt you towards him. You tuck the flower inside his breast pocket and he looks forlorn as you do, eyes sinking and any trace of a smile vanishing.
You wrap your dress around your waist and he watches you belt it up into a messy bow on your hip. You can still feel him pooling between your legs.
You take in a deep breath, a steadying one that seeks clarity through the confusion, and inhale the familiar, swarming fragrance of the azaleas one last time.
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My first time writing for Lucien and I'd love to know your thoughts. I'd appreciate a re-blog too so others can read and enjoy. Thankies! 🖤
MAIN MASTERLIST | LUCIEN FLORES MASTERLIST | FLORA & FAUNA MASTERLIST
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sukunas-wife · 2 months
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hhey, I accidentally came across your channel and read everything that was there, it's too good. could you write a story about how Yuji grows up? how he starts fighting with opponents or something like that :D?
I suck at writing fighting I’m sorry 😭 I’m terrible honestly so I did it in a different way I apologize in advance 🥺🤍
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Yuji growing up UNDER SUKUNA IS CRAZY because 1 Ryomen’s cursed presence is so strong that Yuji’s cursed energy happened to be tied up all cute and pretty with a little cursed energy ribbon made of Sukuna’s cursed energy.
The integration of the two led Yuji to be able to use Malevolent Shrine
🥹 Made his daddy proud the day the three of you were outside and someone tried to ambush your little family, Yuji’s eyes widened seeing his dad calmly bring his hands together “Domain Expansion, Malevolent Shrine.”
The world flashed before Yuji’s eyes with the sound of a bell and drip. It was after that moment when everything was clear little ⅘ year old Yuji pushed his hands together mimicking his father trying to be cool “Domain expansion! Malevolent Shrine!”
Neither you nor Sukuna expected it to work, until it did-
There was Sukuna protecting you from Yuji’s unstable barely registering domain. After everything was said and done. The two of you couldn’t help but look at each other. “Did… did he” Sukuna let you go, “Yuji..”
Yuji ran at his dad with the biggest smile, screaming “did you see that!? Did you!? Did you!?” When Sukuna picked him up, throwing him up into the air, “I did! We need to talk about your little domain.”
That’s where he started his training under his father because he knew no one else could train him as well as he could. It evolved to Yuji being able to use his own energy in fighting. It was the cutest thing seeing your son's little fist while he punched away at some poor little punching bag with his father there mocking him to get him angry to put more curse behind his hits.
“Aw, this sack of sand too much for you brat? Move- I’ll show you how to really put some curse behind it.”
Yuji watched how his dad pinned the punching sack to post and took a fighting stance, in his eyes he could see the red cursed energy glowing skeins his fathers fists and when he struck it was over. The post and sack were nothing, “I WANNA DO THAT!”
It was a beautiful and cursed sight, Ryomen Yuji, (the name changes based on how my brain works I’m sorry 🥹) , he had softer features, but he had developed similar markings to his father. The only thing keeping him from being his father was the vast size difference. He had even taken to using a robe similar to his dads older style.
Ryomen Yuji wasn’t a tyrant, but if he turned out, he very much could be just a cruel man as his father.
Especially when Jujutsu Sorcerer started to trail after him thinking if they could kill the son the father would bend.
They laid corrected in their own pools of blood.
His first solo fight was when he had turned 15 and he asked if he could go to the town to gay a few things of his own. You were weary feeling something was bound to happen, Sukuna pulled you into his side assuring you there is no doubt in his mind Yuji would be able to take care of himself, he would know, he trained him for the last eleven years.
So you let him leave, he was surrounded not too soon before reaching the village, “IT'S RYOMEN SUKUNA!”
His eyes were quick to move around the group “FOOL THAT'S NOT RYOMEN SUKUNA THAT'S-… even better, Ryomen Sukuna may be a monster but even then this boy looks well enough to know someone has to give a damn about him, we need to restrict him.”
There was Yuji imbuing his cursed energy into his fists, it was a scene to watch how he could punch through a man's chest like silk tofu. How easily he could take a man’s head in his hand digging his fingers into their back around their spine to separate them entirely.
He was ágile, being attacked from both sides by men with cursed tools. Blades on chains, swinging in opposing directions grazing his chest and back as he turned to doing his best to avoid them, he took one chain wrapping it around his hand and turning his back to that man pulling the chain I’ve this shoulder sending the man flying into the air. He turned facing the second who was still running at him catching him by taking his face in his hand and crushing his face in , taking the 2nd man’s blade he spun the chain around before slinging the blade at the falling sorcerer piercing his skull leaving him to fall dead to the ground. He carried on with brute force until another wave of Sorcerer's came, he was huffing but he was thrilled, every year of training, every technique and day spent bleeding, fighting and pouring every ounce of energy and raw brute strength and cursed energy.
“Domain Expansion” it felt like time froze, “Malevolent Shrine.”
Yuji’s domain wasn’t as vast as his fathers, but was equally intimidating. There he stood on the pile of skulls in front of the shrine, hands pressed together, “You will see true power.”
It felt like the domain shook when he uttered the simple word “..cleave…” It was a sure hit taking out every living being in the area.
—- —- —- —-
But of course, like father, like son. When Sukuna was going to leave you to go tend to “business” Yuji begged to go, leaving you home with Anya and for a girls week which turned to a girls month.
During this month your boys had learned one thing in battle, they could merge their domains in a way no one else would ever be able to.
Sukuna had heard rumours of some prestigious clan that wanted his head, and if its head they wanted, he decided he’d personally deliver it personally into their city and into their pathetic little lives. Why wait for the fight to come to his home and put his little family at risk when he could go to the fight and strike while the steel is hot and brittle.
That was until Yuji started to beg to go, no matter how many times Sukuna would tell him no he would persist he go with his father. Finally after talking to you, and even when you didn’t want to let him go, Yuji begged and begged using his little puppy eyed beg you caved and said if either of them came back hurt or didn’t come back at all you would remarry and forget about both of them. It was a bluff but the jealousy was enough to make Sukuna squint at you before whacking Yuji on the back of his head lightly, “Let’s go brat, the sooner we get this done the sooner we come back home and your mother won’t roll in her grave.”
Still Sukuna pulled you into him by your waist and kissed you making Anya and Yuji exaggeratedly “eewww” before he left.
They warped quickly now that Sukuna was in a snappy mood, “pfft, remarry, that woman couldn’t find a man worth one of my- oh?”
It was as if the invasion was anticipated, Sukuna used a lower arm to push Yuji behind him, “Stand back brat, I said you could come, I never said you could fight.” It was an instant, every archer and swordsmen surrounding the two had either been cleaved or lit a light. ”Now we’re really going to have some fun.”
Yuji trailed after his father watching how he barreled through everything and everyone with no regard, his actions were quick and precise. He made their way straight to the centre of the shinden-zukuri with ease. Yuji was astounded, his father would always make minimal movement with maximum damage, but this was different, he was just showing off. They were surrounded and the room was suffocating with the large amounts or pressure from cursed energy flowing. He backed up to Sukuna, and they stood back to back, Yuji was ready to fight, Sukuna was amused and having the time of his life, he would win and there was no doubt in his mind. The two fought in a way that reminded Sukuna of the day you fought by his side. A side of you not even his children would ever know. They danced in circles, taking life after life until they were forced closer, as if they had the same unspoken idea both of them expanded their domain not letting the other know.
The world shook in the wake of the combined domain, the humans witnessing the ethereal domain would die without fail.
The shrines combined to make a full size Sanmon gate, strikingly similar to the former shrine. The only difference was that Sukuna stood there like the god Vishnu, Two hands holding his domain symbol just above Yuji’s height level, the other two holding his tools up and on display, Yuji was a step below him with hands in the matching domain form. The two shared a single brain cell in that moment, “Malevolent Temple.”
It had no barrier, it turned into an open space, the hits were guaranteed. In the end when every living thing in the vicinity was reduced to nothing and the domain closed, it came to show even the former shinden-zukuri has been reduced to dust on the ground.
What he would’ve stretched over days of fun they had completed in mere seconds. But now that his eyes had been opened to this new found power he was intrigued and needed to know more.
This led to Sukuna dragging Yuji around with him to test the limits of their new found glory for weeks until he finally allowed Yuji to return home. You weren’t frantic when they returned because Uraume had calmed your beating heart once a week with the messenger birds you had begged him to take along. But you were scared because Sukuna did not slip into bed as he usually would, instead he scooped you up, threw you over his shoulder and brought you outside with him, “Let’s go woman.” Was all you heard as you were shaken awake and met with the morning's cold air, “kuna, love, I’m so tired.”
You felt Sukuna land a smack on your rump, “Just five minutes and I’ll carry you back.” You did your best to look back at him and you caught him looking back at you with a smug smile, “fine.”
He sat you on the steps to your home, where you saw Yuji, he had that look of excitement, his eyes were gleaming the way they would as a child when he’d see his father use a new technique.
“Mom! Mom! You’re going to love this!” You smiled as Sukuna rubbed his thumb over the back of your hand letting it slip from his hold as he made his way back to Yuji.
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Tag List: Permanent because this doesn’t feel very squishy 🥺
@sakuxxi @mercymccann @certainduckanchor @najiiix @bakugou-katsukis-wife @amitiel-truth @souyasplushie @mylovelessnightmare @ynjimenez @dolliira @princessluvz
@simpforyoubitch @domainofmarie @ilovemybabies378 @anyaswlrd @cyder-puff
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viv-weylin · 5 months
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HALF LIFE TUMBLR SIMULATOR:
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This is your daily reminder that we do in fact see your internet history. Please refrain from looking things up such as "breen leaked feet pics". Thank you.
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To add on: please stop looking up "Metrocop x Reader", thank you.
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whoever keeps stealing my rations from the breakroom owes me AT LEAST six days worth at this point.
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Its happening to you too, 2901? I thought it was just me...
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This is a reminder that we work hard for our rations and it's kinda fucked up to steal people's hard work... idk if its just me but why is it normalized to make fun of Civil Protection?? We're just doing out job.
@combinefeedback can you fix this??
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Hello! Please email us at [email protected] to submit a formal complaint.
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Lol
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Double agent of the week has been announced! Special thanks to @ bcalhoun for his hard work. He has reportedly stolen weeks worth of rations from the City 17, District 6 breakroom, thoroughly demotivating the metrocops :).
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Looking for a roleplay partner! I'd be roleplaying my BlackMesa!OC, Jamie. I'm okay roleplaying with BlackMesa!Ocs or Gordon Freeman. Breen roleplayers please do not interact!
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What's wrong with breen?? /gen
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What do you mean what's wrong with breen?? U literally support... ☹️☹️ blocked and reported.
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Gordon Freeman fanart drawn by @gfreemanlefttoe!
[gordon_fanart_final_FINAL_FINALREALLY.jpg]
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Wow! 😍 Most Accurate Drawing I've Seen Yet! Amazing Work, gfreemanlefttoe!
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THE FUCKING USERNAME I CANT.
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As someone who knew Gordon before all this... kinda wild ngl.
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My dad literally worked with Gordon I can't imagine how he feels knowing gfreemanlefttoe is a real username.
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It's funny asf.
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DNI: Breen defenders (wtf is wrong with you), Gordon Freeman x Breen Shippers 😭😭, Resistance snitches, if you work with the combine AT ALL (THIS IS MY BLOG OKAY??), antlions, if you own any headcrabs as pets. They're literally exotic creatures wtf is wrong with you..
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Here's a selfie with my pet dog!
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I literally saw him attack a combine soldier yesterday...
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And???
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Kinda weird ngl...
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Ermmm in literally neurodivergent and a minor 🤓
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Today, 10 years ago, the Resonance Cascade happened!
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Rb with what you miss most about pre combine life
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Holidays...
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Cats@
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WHICH MUTUAL REBLOGGED THIS I HAVE ALL CAT TAGS BLOCKED PLEASE TAG YOUR CAT PICTURES. JESUS CHRIST.
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youtube
WHO FUCKING DID THIS.
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hehe
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CUBBAGE??? WHAT???
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Username change. Gfhhhh 👍
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PLEASE STOP WRITING BREEN X METROCOP STORIES. THANK YOU.
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Some Things You Just Can't Refuse
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Title: Some Things You Just Can't Refuse
Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI
Pairing: Dom!Clark Kent x Sub!Reader
Word Count: 4.7K+
Summary: A collection of first times with Clark Kent, and one last time.
Warnings: dacryphilia, unprotected p-in-v sex (wrap it up babes), creampie, spit kink (for like two seconds), Reader being a brat
A/N: This has been a plot bunny that sat in my Google Docs while all my other works got attention. Did I really just write a 5+1? Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best. 
Dividers by: @firefly-graphics
Support/Reblog banner by me
Cover Art by me
My Masterlist 
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Clark Kent was a simple man, for the most part. He had preferences, sure. But he knew what he liked, and went for those things more often than not. One of his preferences was a certain kind of woman. 
And you were that kind of woman. His Sunflower.
The perfect combination of submissive and strong-willed. What others may call bratty, Clark would call “a little feisty” and he wouldn’t change it for the world.
And that is where Clark was anything but simple. He was your Dominant, you were his submissive. He loved you, he provided for you, and he kept you safe. He kissed the ground you walked on, he broke you, and he put you back together.
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The first time you met Clark Kent was in the break room of the Daily Planet. 
You were an intern for the summer, just working to get some credits toward your journalism degree. You weren’t all that interested in going to warzones and reporting on drug lords and shit. You wanted to tell stories about starving artists and activism. You wanted to surprise people with your ability to capture the essence of someone’s emotion and relate it to the reader’s own experiences.
While doing your writing at work, while you were supposed to be doing whatever Lois Lane threw at you this morning, you decided to take a break to recharge. Since energy drinks gave you the jitters, you opted for a warm-ish mug of hours-old coffee.
As you reached up to the cabinet to get a mug, you watched as a hand appears above you to grab the handles of two mugs. You turned, following the hand, to see who reached over you. Eyes blue like the Atlantic Ocean behind a pair of plain black rectangular frames looked back at you. You can’t help but smile at him as he beamed, bright enough to illuminate your entire day.
And your writer’s brain was getting way ahead of itself already. Who the hell was this mountain of a man? I wonder what his lips taste like. Should that tie go with that shirt? Fuck, did he just ask me something?
“I’m sorry, what?” You shook yourself out of your thoughts.
“I asked if you wanted the black or the flower mug. I was gonna offer the flower. But I’d rather not assume you didn’t wanna just take the plain one. So, I’m gonna stop talking and let you answer.” 
Fuck, he’s cute when he rambles.
“Sunflowers are my favorite.” He offered the mug and your fingers touch and you’re glad that you are the only two in the break room.
“Clark,” he says, as he poured himself some coffee, “Clark Kent.”
You gave your name and he put out a hand to shake yours. With your hand in his, you notice how it engulfed your own. You thought to yourself about that hand around your throat. Just lightly squeezing the sides of your neck, as a warning.
“Nice to meet you. I hope Lois has been easy on you. She can be a little…much.” He said it in a way that lead you to believe he’s been on the demanding end of Lois more than once.
“Eh, she’s alright. I mean, Ms. Lane is just fine.” You tried to cover your disdain for Lois. In reality, you saw her as a ‘Pick-Me’, but you tried to give her the benefit of the doubt.
“Yeah, sure she is. I dated her, so I know her pretty well. Not that I should be saying anything. But, don’t let her try and get in your head. She’ll use whatever she can to get a scoop, whether in the field or the workplace. She’s a great journalist, but-” You cut him off, not wanting to take part in putting down another woman.
“I think I get the hint. Watch my back around her.” You assure him you understood as you poured your coffee and put in some cream and sugar.
“Yeah, sorry. I shouldn’t talk about her behind her back. That was rude of me. My mother would be disappointed in me for that.” He looked into his mug, and you saw that he was not proud of himself for putting down his ex.
“It’s all good, Clark. I can tell you didn’t mean anything by it. Emotions are tricky, ya know?” You don’t know why you wanted to give him an ‘out’, but you did.
“That, they are. I better get back. See ya around,” He gave a cute little wave and exited the room.
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The first time Clark Kent called you Sunflower happened about a month after your first meeting. 
The two of you ended up together on a test run for Perry to see how you go about working with other reporters. He probably just wanted to see if I could share a byline.
You could tell that Lois saw a tenacity in you that reminded her of her younger self. While that was great, you wanted to be seen for your ability to get people to talk to you without making them feel like they were in an interview. Just a conversation between people.
When you asked Clark to work on the assignment with you, he jumped at the opportunity. In truth, he wanted the chance to see you at work. He’d listen to Lois talk about how you just saw things differently. Almost like she was jealous, but she would never admit to that.
“So I was thinking we could go to Gotham. Before you say anything, I know it’s dangerous there but we’ll be going during the day. And I finally got the go-ahead from Wayne Enterprises to shadow one of their board members. A Day in the Life kind of piece. What do you think?” You rambled out, arms crossed as you leaned against Clark’s desk.
“I think I can get you an exclusive with Bruce Wayne if you wanted.” He stated nonchalantly.
“I would owe you big time. Wait, how the hell do you know Wayne? What, were you boy scouts together or something?”
“We just end up at a lot of the same places.” Clark offers no other explanation.
“Right,” you nodded at him, not letting it go, “So, I run point on this and you back me up?”
“Sounds perfect. You’ll do great, just know he will try and flirt with you so don’t make it easy for him, Sunflower.” The nickname caused heat to rise to your face, remembering that first time you met him.
“Sure, like the most eligible bachelor in Gotham who can buy whatever he wanted would look at me twice?” You weren’t being down on yourself too much, more like you were being realistic. The man had dated supermodels and heiresses, not chubby junior reporters.
“Without sounding unprofessional, trust me when I say Bruce will look at you more than twice. You say the word and I’ll set him straight.” Was that flirtatious? No way.
“Um, if you say so, Clark,” you tried to laugh it off and walk away but Clark caught your wrist, your eyes locked with his and you felt…something. 
“I do say so, Sunflower,” he lowered his hand from around your wrist, “Just prepare to shut him down more than once. He’s, uh, persistent.”
“You trying to save me for yourself, huh?” You couldn’t help yourself. If he denies it, you could say you were joking. If he confirms it, then…
He simply smiled and tilted his head, neither confirming nor denying. 
During your interview with Bruce Wayne, you were surprised that he indeed did flirt with you as Clark said he would. You managed to steer the conversation back to Wanye Enterprises each time he would stray to learn more about you. You would give him a detail here and a tidbit there, but you kept it professional. Clark was there to take notes, letting you take the lead. He was impressed by you. You kept Bruce flirting with you to get him to spill details about new things he was working on for Gotham.
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The first time you kissed Clark Kent was three months into your internship. 
Lois had taken a shine to you, loving what few pieces you were able to get past the intern pool and into an issue. You figured it would be in your best interest to go to her with any journalistic questions you had. You may not like her very much, but she was still a Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist and you would be an idiot not to take a few pointers from her.
There was one thing you didn’t talk to her about, and that was the massive crush you had on her ex. It just seemed too messy, and honestly, you didn’t need her permission to do anything. 
That’s why you accepted Clark’s invitation to make you dinner. Frankly, you weren't surprised he asked you. You had been flirting with each other, exchanging glances and smiles across the office. Spending hours a night talking on the phone and texting back and forth naturally lead you here.
Armed with a bottle of wine and all the courage you could muster, you make it to Clark’s apartment just as he is finishing dinner. He answers the door in jeans and a grey long-sleeved henley, looking so comfortable and so different without a tie on. He thanked you for the wine, took your wrist to pull you behind him, and shut the door with a socked foot.
Pouring you both a glass, he congratulated you for completing half of your internship. It completely slipped your mind that you had reached this milestone, but he remembered. And that was saying a lot. You clinked your glasses together and took a sip of the pinot noir. 
“This is going to go great with dinner. Thank you again for picking up some. I can’t believe I forgot to,” Clark bantered, setting his wine glass down to check on the pork tenderloin and roasted potatoes.
“You were too busy trying to impress me,” You insisted, smiling when he gives you a stern look.
“Watch it, Sunflower,” is all you hear and you shifted from one foot to the other to hide your search for friction. You barely had two sips of wine in your system before this man had you feeling drunk.
“Time to let the pork rest while the potatoes finish up. Should be done in a bit,” Clark picked up his wine glass, settling his other hand on your lower back to guide you to the island counter. He didn’t expect it when a shiver ran up your spine and caused you to giggle, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like it.
You sat and chatted during dinner like you’ve known each other for ages and it just felt very comfortable. He told you about his mom, growing up in Smallville, and how he came to work at the Daily Planet. You spoke about your schooling and how you’d one day like to write for the Planet and publish a book of short stories. He was stuck on your every word and it made you feel important to have his undivided attention.
After dinner, you retired to the living room to watch some tv. It was more just on as background noise as you conversed with each other. When you both reached for the wine bottle at the same, you both laugh and then look at each other. And it was all you could do not to melt into a puddle as those blue eyes stare longingly at you.
Clark reached up and took off his glasses before tossing them on the coffee table. Fuck. But, he does nothing more. For what seems like minutes, you sat in silence just staring into each other’s eyes until you speak up. 
“Clark, please?” You whined, growing more frustrated with every second.
“Use your words. Tell me what you need, Sunflower.” The way he said it had you shifting in your seat.
“I need you to kiss me, please?” You pleaded, the little crack in your voice not missed by Clark.
He cupped your face with one large paw, his touch so soft that you leaned into it to feel his warmth. His thumb moved over to wipe across your lips, followed swiftly by his lips.
Your lips met and you felt the warmth radiating from him. You could taste the sweetness of the wine on his tongue as he begged for entry. You let him in, moaning into his mouth. Clark grunted in return and pulled away to rest your foreheads together.
“I have wanted that for far too long, Sunflower,” Clark groaned, licking his lips.
“Me too,” you whisper, scooting closer to Clark to lace your fingers together, “Can we do it again?”
Instead of answering you, he pulled you into his lap and attacked your mouth with fervor.
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The first time you tell Clark Kent you love him is exactly two months after your first kiss.
It was completely by accident, but no less true. 
Clark invited you over for dinner and a movie. The two of you were in the middle of watching 10 Things I Hate About You. Patrick was dancing on the bleachers and singing to Kat. The most romantic scene in the movie apart from the poetry scene.
“Ya know, if we went to high school together and you sang ‘Can’t Take My Eyes Off You’ to me in front of the whole school, I would have melted,” you say, stuffing popcorn into your face, “But then, I already love you, so you wouldn’t have to do the whole singing thing.”
Clark’s head whipped around so fast that you can feel the wind coming off of him. “What did you just say, Sunflower?”
You look to Clark and you realized what you had said at the same moment and your eyes went wide. “I think I just confessed love during a ‘90s romcom.”
“Yeah, I think you did,” Clark looked at you with that look in his eyes, “Good thing I love you, too.” He says nonchalantly, trying to not freak you out, and went back to watching the movie.
“Clark, I love you.” You wanted to feel the words on your tongue again.
“I love you too, Sunflower.” Hearing the words come from him was like a cozy embrace that coated the night in warmth.
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The first time you had sex with Clark Kent was at the end of your internship.
Clark wanted to wait- 
No, he didn’t want to wait, but he chose to wait until your internship was over and you were offered an actual job at the Daily Planet to not seem like he was cruising for tail in the intern pool. 
Little did you know, but Clark had it all planned out. Candlelit dinner, romantic music, wine, and chocolates. The whole nine yards. But you didn’t get to experience that version of lovemaking. 
At the same time Clark was lighting candles, he heard your heartbeat spike across town. He sped away to your location, without putting on his suit. He flew above the city before he found you being held up at gunpoint in an alleyway and his blood boiled. He watched you comply with your attacker and hand over your purse before flying down behind the man quietly. The man had no idea what hit him when Clark flicked his temple and the assailant falls over unconscious.
He didn’t even think to keep his identity secret anymore. He steps over the man to get to you and check you over for injuries, both external and internal. When he sees nothing, he questions you, “Are you alright, Sunflower?”
You look almost through him because there he is in a sweater and dark-wash jeans, glasses slightly askew. You step back an inch as he reaches out to you. He can see it in your eyes that you are piecing together little moments. 
How he got across town in what seemed like seconds. How he never got sick. How it felt like he was always hiding something. This is what he was hiding from you. For your safety? For his?
“There were so many times I wanted to tell you I was Superman, I just didn’t know how. Do you forgive me, Sunflower?” Clark’s pleading ultramarine eyes burned into yours. 
“I mean, I guess this is as good a time as any to tell me. I have so many questions. Of which, you will answer all of them, Clark. But, all I need to know right now is how the hell you found me?” Your breathing was starting to speed up again and you tried to calm down but given the circumstances, you were acting pretty normal.
“I kind of, know your heartbeat. I can hear it at all times. Wherever you are, I can hear you,” Clark makes an odd face and then forces out an embarrassed laugh, “Now that I say that out loud, it sounds weird.”
“Yeah, it’s a little weird. But it’s also super romantic, too,” you reach to Clark and pull him to you, “What’s my heart sound like now?”
“Sounds like you’re excited,” he let his hand drag down your body, “Smells like it too. Now, why would that be?”
“I mean, I did just find out my boyfriend is a superhero. That’s sorta hot. Sorta, I mean, he hasn’t taken me flying yet.”
“Brat! How hard is it to ask for what you want?” He picked up your purse from the unconscious attacker and handed it to you. When it is secured around your shoulder, Clark picked you up and you wrap your legs around his hips. “Hold on, Sunflower.” He took off so fast that the world blurred around you.
As he got closer to his apartment, he slowed down and flew a bit higher near the clouds. He rolled over onto his back so that you are straddling him. His hands found each other behind his head as he floated above Metropolis, all attention directed at you. Your eyes wandered around the city as you adjusted your seating which stirred his arousal.
Clark tried to adjust himself under you without you noticing but instead, you took the opportunity to grind your clothed sexes together. The groan that escaped Clark’s mouth is enough to spur you on to continue your ministrations. His eyes are already rolling back in his head and you feel quite proud of yourself. You reached under Clark’s sweater and ran your fingers through his chest hair as you continue to work your hips over him.
“Clark?”
“Yes, Sunflower?” He opened his eyes, pupils were blown wide with lust, breathing becoming unstable.
“Take me to your place so we can get more comfortable?” You flirted with him, wrapping your arms around his neck and shimmying up his body.
“Yes, Ma’am.” He grabbed under your thighs to have you wrap your legs around him once more and began to descend to the balcony of his apartment. He let you inside first but is quickly behind you following you into his bedroom as you start to shed your layers.
You spun around and gave Clark a show of your skin becoming visible in the moonlight. When you are fully undressed, you knelt in front of him with your head down and your hands on your thighs. 
He walked over to you and kissed the top of your head. He listened for your heartbeat, and it was steady, if not a little heightened. You were awaiting instruction, as far as he could tell.
“Sunflower, I want you to pick a safe word.” He stood behind you and undressed down to his underwear.
“Unicorn is my safe word.”
“Good girl,” Clark caressed your shoulders and squeezed them, “Are you okay with calling me Sir?”
“Yes, Sir.” Your heart rate evened out, Clark noticed. You’re happy. He beamed down at you.
“Good girl, now turn around and take out Sir’s dick.” 
You turned around and reach up to Clark’s boxer briefs, cupping him over the fabric before hooking your fingers into the waistband and pulling the underwear down and off. His length sprung up to bounce in front of your face and you lick your lips in anticipation but don’t go any further without direction.
“Such a good girl, Sunflower,” he grabbed your chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting your face up to meet his eyes, “Come lay down so Sir can taste you. I can already smell how wet you are.”
You took his hands as he helped you up. Clark pulled you close to his body, your back against his chest. He attacked your neck, nipping and sucking marks that would show in the morning. His length on your hip has you testing your limits. 
As if reading your mind, Clark reached down and cupped your netherlips. You instinctively clamped your thighs around his hand and he used a foot to kick your legs apart. With one hand exploring your cunt, the other slides around your throat as a warning.
“Don’t ever block me from my pussy, Sunflower. This belongs to Sir now, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, Sir, it belongs to you.” You were sure Clark could feel you clench around nothing and you didn’t care. You wanted him to know he was doing everything right.
“Good girl,” He dipped a finger into your wetness and pulled it back out to wipe across your bottom lip, “We’re both gonna taste your sweet honey.” He used the hand around your throat to turn you around so he could claim your lips.
You tasted yourself as his tongue invaded you, whimpering into his mouth. His answering groans had you trembling. He walked you backward until your legs hit the edge and he pushed you down. Leaning over, he knelt and pushed your thighs back as far as they would go, marveling at your glistening slit.
With the flat of his tongue, he licked from your entrance to your neglected nub, pausing to suck on it lightly. He ate with the hunger of a man starved. He steeled his tongue, probing your core and tasting you from within. He made out with your pussy, pulling back to spit on it which drew moans from you and had you squeezing your breasts in response.
Clark was good at this, not that you were surprised because of how good of a kisser he was, but fuck! The way he fingered your pussy, making sure to curve his fingers to hit that sensitive bundle of nerves inside was heavenly. 
When he sped up his fingers and pushed down on your lower stomach, you gasped and realized he understood the assignment. He was rewarded with you squirting over his hands and chest.
“Such a good girl for me, Sunflower,” he said, before sucking your juices off of his fingers and moving your limp body up the bed, “Now, you’re going to be an extra good girl and take Sir’s dick.”
That was all the warning you received before Clark was pushing in, stretching you wide over his thick hardness. With every inch, he would pull out and press in an inch more than the last thrust. He made sure to stretch you slowly, keeping your tightness while allowing you to get used to his girth. 
“That’s right, Sunflower, open those sweet petals for Sir,” Clark soothes your whines as he fucks into you, “I promise I’ll make it all better when you let me all…the way…in.” He punctuated his words with jolts from his hips. 
When he is finally seated inside you, he pauses. The sudden stop has you reaching for Clark and moving your hips to gain friction.
“Look at you trying to fuck yourself on my cock,” he leaned over you and watched as tears flow from your eyes, “These tears are gorgeous, but use your words. Tell me what you want.”
“Sir, please,” you whined, looking into his eyes, “Need you to fuck me, please.” 
The smile on Clark’s face is brilliant, he’s got you right where he wants you. He kissed your face, stopping to wipe away your tears with his tongue. Pulling back, he secured your legs around his hips before he leaned down to wrap one hand around both of your wrists, holding them above your head.
When Clark fucked you, he paid attention to every aspect of your body. He looked into your eyes. He kissed and nipped at your neck. He pinched and teased your nipples. He rubbed your clit while he pounded inside you. 
Clark just did it better than any of your partners before. Maybe because you allowed yourself to be vulnerable around him? Or maybe because he was just…better. It didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was that you were with him and he was inside you and you were all his.
You lost track of how many times you came, but Clark remembers every time. He committed them to memory, seeing you arch your back and feeling your walls flutter around him. He could tell by the sheen of sweat on your body and the way your body is vibrating that you were beyond spent. Possibly even a bit overstimulated. Perfect.
“You ready for my cum, Sunflower?” He licked his thumb and pressed on your clit as you keen, “Do you think you can hold on for me for just a bit longer?” 
“Yes, Sir,” you moan as he slid his hands to your hips.
“There’s my good girl,” he groaned and began his assault on your pussy. At this angle, he can stimulate both your hooded center and your G-spot. A punishing pace that set you ablaze. While you held onto his biceps, you looked into his eyes. Where there used to be blue irises, only dark pupils remained. His curly hair was a sweaty mess on his forehead. He was barely a man now, more like an animal rutting into you.
Before long, his hips stutter in their onslaught. Breathing erratically, he squeezed your hips so hard you knew there would be bruises tomorrow. He moved to kiss your neck and latched onto your shoulder with his teeth as you feel every twitch of him releasing inside you. You know there will be bite marks in your shoulder for days but you don’t care.
Clark’s teeth left you, followed closely by his tongue soothing your almost-broken skin. Sometimes, he didn’t know his strength. And it was a close one this time. He was still inside you semi-hard before he decided to pull out slowly causing you to whine at the sudden feeling of emptiness.
He moved from the bed for a moment. You closed your eyes for a millisecond before you feel warm wetness between your legs.
“Just cleaning you up, Sunflower,” He wipes your delicate folds softly and throws the towel in the clothes hamper before crawling in bed beside you, “You go right to sleep, you deserve it.”
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The last time you refer to yourself as Clark’s girlfriend is a year and a half into your relationship.
Clark proposes to you over dinner in the house you bought together. He bought the ring after you talked about marriage just two weeks ago. Well, technically, Bruce helped him buy the ring. As in, Bruce bought the jewelers store and had them design the perfect ring for you. 
A smoky quartz center with marquise and pear-shaped citrine petals around it. You had mentioned more than once that you didn’t want a diamond engagement ring, you wanted something that matched your style.
Clark presented the ring to you on one knee, ever the traditionalist. You said yes, of course.
This man was your life, your hope, and your future. You looked forward to every minute of every hour of every day with him. 
He is your light in the darkness, and you are his Sunflower.
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A/N: Yes, the title is from "Sunflower" by Post Malone/Swae Lee. Yes, the song was for a Spider-Man movie. So, what? It's a good song.
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borathae · 6 months
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"If there is one thing you love to do, it is to pamper your boyfriend. So when Yoongi has been feeling especially stressed lately, you decide that it is time to treat him like the precious prince he is."
Pairing: Vampire!Yoongi x Witch!Reader
Genre: established relationship!AU, polyamory!AU, domestic Fluff, Smut
Warnings: a stressed!Yoongi, she pampers him, casual nudity, this story consists of two parts: one fluffy and one smutty, the next warnings are for the smutty part, morning cuddles which lead to sex, sleepy & subby!Yoongi, service Dom!Reader, handjob in spooning position, little spoon!Yoongi heheh, neck kisses, gentle choking, praise, loving dirty talk, nipple play, blowjob, cum licking, overstimulation, a lil bit of gentle CBT, he is a painslut so he loves it, multiple orgasms for him, hand holding, he is sensitive & loves being touched <3
Wordcount: 10.4K
a/n: istfg i love men jfasjdfja okay that is a lie, i love men like mv!boongie <3 my precious prince <3 also lmao if someone tries to look up the definition of oral fixation, my name would show up ajdjfa like. can i write something other than oral sex? i don't fucking think so ahahah i'm telling you this stems from my childhood addiction of sucking my own thumb every chance i got until i was thirteen ahaha that shit shaped my frontal cortex or whatever part of the brain is in charge of kink development jsjdf
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You like trying out new things. Especially when those new things involve surprising your amazing, wonderful, lovely boyfriend Yoongi.
Today, you left a little something in his wing to find. A letter, telling him of how much you wanted to be with him tonight including a very detailed description of your plans and your location shall he want the same.
Yoongi should be out for most of the day, training with Jungkook and later meeting up with some of his creations in town to go over future plans of strengthening the vampire community. With Namjoon’s followers mostly gone and their Creator hidden from the world, the community has been brittle. Attacks on peaceful vampire communities by hostile werewolves or witches became way too common in cities where peace was already brittle to begin with. Yoongi and his followers are currently creating strategies which will ensure the peace without cities breaking into a full supernatural civil war. Which means that he is a very busy man lately, coming home later than usual and with little energy left to cook. He feels really bad about it, even if you keep ensuring him that it was never his responsibility to feed you and that you can cook for yourself while he relaxed.
It worked for a little while until he began stressing out over not being able to cook on top of all the other stress he is currently experiencing. Truly, if he didn’t posses supernatural healing you are sure that he would have already greyed by now from all the stressing he has been doing these past few weeks.
But you want to change that tonight. You want him to feel so relaxed that stress ceases to be part of his vocabulary. 
By now, it’s already way past eight. Yoongi should have been home for at least thirty minutes. You want to check on him, but are scared to ruin the letter surprise this way. So you take out your phone and text Jungkook instead.
He answers you ten minutes later.
-          Baby ♡: I don’t know if he’s home yet. I’ve been home since six ♡♡♡
-          Baby ♡: I’m sorry baby ♡♡♡
-          You: It’s fine. Don’t worry about it ♡♡♡
-          Baby ♡: Are you scared that something happened? ♡♡♡
-          You: No, but I have a surprise for him ♡♡♡
-          Baby ♡: ooooooh *o* a surprise *O*
-          You: yeah… :D I wrote him a letter telling him to come to my wing if he wanted to have a spa day ♡♡♡
-          Baby ♡: wowie *^* spa days are so nice ♡♡♡ I’m sure he’ll be home soon heh ♡♡♡
-          You: yeah probably ♡♡♡
-          Baby ♡: hehe ♡♡♡♡
You send him one more round of hearts and then place the phone aside, turning your attention back to the task at hand. The surprise has been prepared, which means that you have free time and what better way to use said free time than to do some gardening in the greenhouse.
Only easy tasks like pruning the roses and picking off dead leaves from your wisteria. You don’t want to get too dirty in case Yoongi comes home.
The man of the hour comes home only a few moments after you texted Jungkook. You are currently in the back of the greenhouse, looking at the perfectly pruned roses when he calls out for you.
“___?”
Your heart flutters. He is here. Hopefully he read the letter first before coming here. It would make the surprise all the more exciting.
“My love, are you here?”
“I’m coming!”
You meet him in the middle. Right where you shared so many breakfasts together. 
Like always lately, the heaviness of a long and stressful day drags down his shoulders. It is so obvious to you these days, now that you know him so well. 
“Hello there, my prince”, you greet him, opening your arms. 
“Hey”, he says, falling into the hug gladly. He even buries his face in the crook of your neck and releases a loud sigh. It was the kind of sigh which sheds the heart of sorrow.
“Did you have a good day?”
“No.”
“Gosh, I’m sorry. Lots of stress?”
“Yeah”, he murmurs into you, tickling your skin with the timbre of his voice, “did you eat already?”
“I did. Don’t worry.”
“I’m sorry that I couldn’t cook. I promise I’ll make time on the weekend. I just have so much to do and I just”, he stops talking to sigh instead, pressing himself closer to you, “I’m tired”, he confesses in a whisper.
“Don’t worry about it, my love. I don’t want you to think that feeding me is your job. I can cook for myself, okay?”
“I guess.”
“Well, I can”, you assure him and squeeze him gently, “did you get my letter?" 
“Letter?”
“Yes, I left it on your bed.”
“No, I wasn’t in my wing yet. I came straight to you.”
“Oh okay. Mhm sad, I wanted to surprise you.”
“I can go right now. I’m sorry, I have so much to do. I didn’t have time yet and I-”
“Hush, it’s okay”, you stop him, massaging his scalp gently.
Yoongi lets out a sound of defeat and murmurs into your neck, “I’m gonna cry. I don’t know for how long I can still do this.”
“Oh Yoongi, I’m sorry you feel this way”, you say and give him a squeeze, “do you have to work again tomorrow?”
“No, they’ll be gone till next week. But I have to do so much work at home. There’s so much shit to go through and, and people to call and I don’t wanna.”
“Okay, I see. At least you can plan your time how you want to tomorrow. Yeah?” 
“I guess.”
He doesn’t sound convinced, which you can’t blame him for.
“I prepared a few things for you if you want to. I promise it will relax you.”
“What do you mean?” he lifts his head, staring at you with bloodshot eyes, “why did you prepare something?”
“Because you’re stressed and I wanna spoil you.”
“Why?”
“What do you mean why? Because I want to and you deserve it.”
“Okay?”
“Mh-hm, now come along. I’ll give you the best spa night ever.” 
“Really?” he gets out, stumbling after you. 
“Yes, really.”
“But why me?”
“Because you’re my love.”
“Oh.”
You lead him to your bathroom. You talk as you walk. 
“It would make a lot more sense if you read my letter. I was being really cheesy in it and talked all about how I’ll make you feel like a king.”
“Oh. Okay”, he is shy. You know that he is.
“Yeah and then I told you to come find me in my wing. Which is why I asked you if you read my letter.”
“Sorry. I wanted to see you first."
“That’s okay. I should have figured. I’m just glad that you’re home safe”, you tell him and turn. You have reached your closed bathroom door, “close your eyes.”
“Okay?” Yoongi says and follows. 
“Don’t peek.”
“I won’t.”
You open the door and take both his hands afterwards. You guide him into the room. Yoongi sniffles instantly.
“It smells good.”
“Don’t look yet. Okay?”
“I’m not. I’m just saying.” 
You place him just a little away from the door so you could close it. Then you snap your fingers, lighting the dozens and dozens of candles in the room. Being a witch fucking rocks. You don’t even have to work for romantic lighting, you just have to snap your fingers. With a another snap of your fingers the record player starts playing Yoongi’s favourite album for relaxation. His lips curls into a smile. 
“I know that song”, he says with happiness in his voice.
“Yeah, definitely. Don’t peek.”
“For how long? What are you doing?”
“Soon.”
“You’re making it so suspenseful.”
One last snap of your fingers to turn off the main lights. 
“Okay. Open your eyes.”
Yoongi follows, looking around the warmly lit room. You filled the bathtub with water and rose petals, mixing in your most relaxing bathing oils. On the side table, a glass of his favourite whiskey cocktail is waiting and you prepared his most comfortable pyjamas to wear. You also created a big bouquet of flowers, which he knows for a fact you will want him to keep in his wing. You love getting him flowers and he loves receiving them even he gets incredibly shy because of it.
“Princess”, he gets out, looking at you with sparkly eyes. They look so close to tearing up.
“Surprise”, you say, stretching your arms above your head, “it was pretty obvious what I’ll do in the bathroom, but surprise.”
Yoongi looks away and at the room again, touching his own tummy as he does. His eyes sparkle in the candlelight.
“Do you like it?”
“Yes. Thank you so much”, he says and nods his head.
You close the distance and hug him. Yoongi hugs you back instantly, hiding his face in your neck like always. 
“I’m happy that you love it. I have a lot more prepared. So I hope that you’re ready.”
“I am”, he mumbles, “thank you so much.”
“Hm”, you hum and pat his butt, “you have to get naked for the bath.”
“I know. Can I do it alone?”
“Of course. I’ll be by the sink preparing the facial.”
“What did you prepare?”
“Just something nice. I looked up a tutorial. Trust me, I’m a professional skincarer now.” 
“Skincarer isn’t even an actual word”, Yoongi says in a laugh as he is slowly getting naked. 
“Doesn’t matter. I’ll give you the best facial ever.”
“You’re aware of how that sounds, right?”
“Oh, I know. If you had read my letter, you would know that I have prepared a spicy section too if you are still awake after my super duper king spa treatment special.”
Yoongi chuckles, “okay, I’ll try to stay awake.”
“No pressure though. Tonight’s about you. I can do it tomorrow too or whenever you’re in the mood.”
“Okay. Ah shit.”
You turn, “what happened?”
He is by the bath, buttnaked and with his toe wet.
“The water’s cold”, he says.
“I know. I didn’t know when you’d be back, so I filled it with cold water. Don’t worry, I’ll warm it up”, you say and hurry to him. You stick your right hand into the water and mumble the magical words. Your eyes glow golden for just a moment before your hand gets a fiery shine to it. The water warms up slowly and you only stop once it is giving of a gentle steam.
“Test it now”, you tell him.
Yoongi lifts his foot and lowers it into the water, “good”, he says and steps inside the bathtub. He lowers himself, pushing the water aside. It reaches him just a little over his nipples once he is submerged entirely.
“There we go. Are you comfy?” you ask him.
He is looking up at you with his knees pulled to his chest and his arms hugging them, “can I have it a little warmer, please?” he asks shyly.
“Of course”, you say, sticking your hand back into the water, “I’ll go slow, so tell me once it’s good for you.”
“Okay.”
Your eyes glow, your hand shines and soon the water begins warming up more and more. The relaxing oils activate with the magical heat, tainting the water milky and filling Yoongi’s nose with a wonderful smell. He feels droopy and oh so relaxed because of it. Yoongi lets you warm the water for a few moments, staring at your face with a fluttering tummy. He is so, so happy about the surprise and he loves it so much. Even if he is too tired to show his true excitement, he is bursting in it. Truly, he feels so lucky to be with you.
“Okay, stop”, he says.
“Got it.”
You stand up and dry your hand on the towel you laid out for Yoongi. Then you hurry to the back of him, placing your hands on his shoulders.
“Lean back.”
He does so without resistance, letting out a surprised gasp when his head sinks into a soft cushion. The water reaches him a little under his neck now.
“Huh?” he sneaks a glance at the pillow..
“Is it comfy?”
“Yeah, really. Where did you get that?”
“Internet. I purchased it a few weeks ago, but never got to using it. Do you like it?”
“Yeah”, he says and relaxes his entire body. He even stretches out his legs and closes his eyes, “thank you for this”, he whispers.
“Don’t thank me too soon. Are you ready for your super duper king special treatment facial?”
“Yeah.”
“Nice, just tell me if you need anything else. Your favourite cocktail’s on the table.”
“Yeah, thank you”, he says and reaches for it. He spills some water on the ground, but that doesn’t matter right now. He drinks his cocktail while you gather the skincare products. “it tastes good”, he tells you.
“Yeah? That’s good to hear.”
Yoongi places it aside and submerges his arm back in the warm water. Then he lets his head fall into the cushion, looking up at you that way. You place your hand on his forehead so you could brush his hair out of his face. You secure a headband around his head, making sure to reveal his entire forehead to you. His eyes fall closed instantly, his lips part as a relaxed sigh leaves him.
“I’ll get started now, yeah?”
“Just do whatever, as long as I don’t gotta talk.”
“Don’t worry, no more talking”, you assure him and smooch his forehead, “relax my love, I’m getting started.”
You start off the treatment by cleaning off the day with a gentle oil cleanser.
“Are you putting oil on my face?” he asks, trying to move away at the unfamiliar feeling, but you stop him with a firm hand on his forehead.
“Yes, it’s called double cleansing. Trust me.”
“Okay?”
“Trust me.”
“I am, just feels weird”, he mumbles as he relaxes again.
“It’ll help.”
Once you washed off the oil, you use a soft smelling foam cleanser. Yoongi sniffles vividly as you spread it on his face, voicing his liking for it with a low hum. You wipe the foam away with a warm towel, making sure to be extra careful around the eyes. 
Once he is clean and patted dry, you begin with the true treatment. You spread a soothing toner with a cotton pad on his face and follow it up with a serum. You know that physically it is impossible for his skin to show signs of exhaustion, age or stress. Hell, he can’t even get impurities because his healing powers prevent him from getting them. But you still believe that a good calming serum will do his skin good. Even if it’s just to help relax his mind. 
After the serum, a sheet mask follows. 
“Ah, hey”, he gasps and opens his eyes, “that’s wet”, he complains, trying to move away again.
“It’s a sheet mask. Close your eyes and stop moving.”
“Does all of that even do anything?”
“Yes, it’ll relax you and make your face glow. Close your eyes.”
Yoongi follows, even if hesitant at first, but begins to relax again when you run your fingers over his face in order to smooth out the mask. It tingles so nicely.
“Okay, that’ll have to stay on your face for twenty minutes. Do you want a head massage in the mean-”
“Yes”, Yoongi interrupts you.
You chuckle, “I take this as a clear yes”, you say and wash your fingers in the bath water. You dry them on the towel and then return to your spot behind him. 
You start off by opening the headband and keeping his hair off his forehead with a warm hand on his head. 
“I watched a lot of tutorials on head massages, so get ready for the best massage ever.” 
“Mhm.”
And so they begin. The most amazing and wonderful and perfect twenty minutes of Yoongi’s life. You weren’t lying when you told him that he will experience the best head massage ever, because he does. He really, really does. You not only pay attention to his entire scalp, you also make sure to massage his tense jaw muscles behind his ear and to loosen the knots in his tight neck muscles. By the time those twenty minutes are over, Yoongi hasn’t closed his mouth in ten minutes and he doesn’t even know that his mouth is open. He is entirely and completely relaxed.
You take off his mask without talking, placing it on the table for now. You waste no time, using the excess serum to massage his face as well. Starting off at his forehead and brows, you guide your skilled finger along his temples, massage his jaw muscles and tense tongue muscle along his throat and you make sure to target every single inch of his face. You even incorporate a gentle massage on the more tender spots, meant to soothe and not to relax tensions, and Yoongi is in heaven. He really is. This is more than heaven. This is his personal paradise, the reason why he exists. It feels so good. His body can’t stop tingling and he swears that he actually feels as if he is floating. He was so stressed, but he isn’t anymore. It soothes him so much to be so pampered. 
Once the serum has been massaged into his skin thoroughly, you begin putting on moisturiser, giving him a softer massage in order not to stress out his skin barrier. You go especially gently on his eyelids, kissing each of them after you finished spreading the cream. 
Once his face glows from being pampered, you spread a thin layer of scalp serum on your palms for one last round of a deep and relaxing scalp massage. 
By now, Yoongi is sleeping. There is no sugar coating the truth. Your once stressed boyfriend is slumbering peacefully with his lips apart and his face entirely slack in relaxation. He looks so adorable like this. 
You give his shoulders a thorough massage as well, ending it off by caressing his chest and then your massage is officially finished. Face glowing, scalp nourished and muscles relaxed he is sleeping in the bathtub while you gaze at him with fond eyes.
That’s what you wanted to happen. He finally looks relaxed.
You play with the thought of waking him for a moment. You really have to, don’t you?
You decide to clean up first. He should sleep as much as he can before you have to cruelly wake him again. You turn off the record player and even take a quick shower so you can change into your pyjamas. Afterwards you do your own skincare and brush your teeth. Yoongi is sleeping through all of it. 
Only then – and once you extinguished the candles – you return to him, cupping his cheeks to shake him awake.
“My love”, you whisper with a heavy heart, “my love, wake up.”
Yoongi begins responding after a few moments. First he huffs out air, then he whines and shakes his head until he finally opens his eyes.
He looks just slightly mad to be woken like this, but most of all, way too sleepy for his own good.
“I know. I’m sorry for waking you, but I need to get you outta the water and into your pjs”, you whisper. 
Yoongi makes a small sound and moves. It looks and feels robotic. You know that he is barely conscious and only really does what his muscles remember to do. 
He gets out of the bath with your help and plops down on the edge of the tub. You open the drain and just about manage to wrap the towel around him because then he is already falling against you, barely awake and so terribly sleepy. 
“-eepy”, he mumbles quietly, rubbing his cheek against your shoulder.
“Almost done, my love. We just gotta get you dry and into your pjs, yeah? Can you work with me? Please?”
Yoongi nods his head and somehow manages to get up and follow you to the pyjamas. He manages to put them on, even if his eyes were closed through the entirety of it. And then he stumbles into the bedroom with your hand tightly in his’ and his trust fully put into you. He doesn’t open his eyes even once, only when you tell him to get into bed.  
He sinks into the pillow, letting out a sleepy sound of relaxation.
You tug him in and get under your blanket. 
“Is nice”, he mumbles, reaching for you.
“Mhm, that’s good to hear”, you say before giving him a kiss on his temple. Afterwards, you roll over to turn off the bedside lamp. Now hued into darkness, you return to him and place your hand on his cheek to caress it softly, “sleep tight, my love”, you whisper and the last thing Yoongi does before he truly falls back to sleep is seek you out for nightly cuddles.
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And if one thought that this warm, little snippet of your wonderful life together was over, one was mistaken. As the next part of this warm, little snippet is entirely dedicated to how you woke up with Yoongi as your little spoon the next day and how you made good of the promise you gave him last night. Shall one wish to live in negligence, one can stop reading now. However, shall one find themselves with a certain desire for Yoongi’s blissful morning hours, one shall continue to indulge in this warm, little snippet a little longer. Whatever path one might choose, one shall always know that Yoongi is truly and soul-consumingly happy ever since he is yours and he will continue to be truly and soul-consumingly happy for as long as he is by your side. 
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Although you fell asleep later than Yoongi, you wake first. You don’t feel tired, as a matter of fact, you feel so well rested that you could definitely start off your day by running around. You know that it is because Yoongi radiated so much tranquillity throughout the night, which in return helped you rest as well. 
Smiling because you are so happy that last night’s plan worked, you pull him tighter against your chest and drape your leg over his hips. Now he can’t escape and you can get lost in the amazing feeling of holding him. He fits so perfectly into your arms and he is so warm and smells heavenly too. You nuzzle your nose deep into his hair and kiss the nape of his neck this way.
Yoongi cut his hair again. Not as short as he had it when you first met him, but it had grown to a length where he disliked it. So he cut it again and thinned it out at the back. Not that thinning out did a lot for him. He has the thickest hair even. Even all the thinning left behind enough to grab and hold and play with him. And also enough to get lost in. He seriously smells so, so good. 
You hug him tighter and inhale deeply, waking him with it. He makes himself known by letting out a deep and quiet hum. 
“Mhm, morning”, you answer him, rubbing his tummy. 
“Mhm”, Yoongi purrs. 
Nothing more is exchanged between the two of you. You continue to smell his soft hair and kiss whatever part of his head you can reach, while Yoongi travels between the world of the awake and the dreaming. He ends up staying in his dream world. You prop yourself up on your elbow and glance at his face. You have to remove your leg from his hip, but you don’t mind because you can feel his butt against your crotch this way. His head rests on your lower arm and his hand is mere inches away from holding your wrist. His fingers twitch as he very obviously dreams and it makes you wonder if he is currently dreaming about holding your hand. It would be so cute if he did. 
You move the arm you have draped around him so you could touch his hand. His fingers, knuckles and veins. He has the most beautiful hands. You caress his wrist for a little and then move to trace his face, using the back of your hand for it. His cheeks are so soft, his skin feels so healthy. You also think that it is glowing especially prettily this morning and you know for a fact that it is because of last night’s spa treatment.  
You were so happy last night because he took the surprise with so much enthusiasm. Truly, you have the best boyfriend ever. 
You lean down and kiss his cheek. 
“Mhm”, Yoongi wakes because of it, sounding a lot more energized than last time. Forty minutes had passed since then. Yoongi chases your kiss by moving his head so he could look at you, “morn’in.”
“Good morning”, you tell him and kiss his lips. 
He kisses you back, which means that he was actually awake this time around. He smiles sleepily as you break the kiss and rolls his head back into a more comfortable position. You rest back into the pillow, snuggling into him happily.
“Did you sleep well?”
“Yeah, really well”, he says, “you?”
“I did, yeah. You felt so calm in my arms tonight, so I feel really refreshed.”
“I slept so well”, he says. His voice is deep and raspy from sleep. “I haven’t slept that well in ages. I kept dreaming about all the stuff I gotta do, but tonight I didn’t dream of anything.” 
“Yes? That’s so good to hear. You deserved it, my love.”
“Mhm”, he hums and wiggles his butt so he was closer to you, “thank you for last night.” 
You smile and kiss the nape of his neck. His hair feels so soft there. You love the feeling of it against your lips. Yes, you are obsessed enough with him to love having hair on your lips. Oh truly, this man consumes your every fiber. 
“I didn’t know I needed it, but I really did. Thank you.”
“I’m just happy that I could help you relax, my love.”
“You did. I was so relaxed and it felt so good. I never experienced something like this before and I loved it so much.”
“Last night was your first time?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh Yoongi, you shouldn’t have told me that. Now I gotta start planning monthly super duper special king treatment spa days to make up for all the lost times.”
He chuckles sleepily, “I won’t stop you.”
“Okay, good”, you say and snicker, “just you wait, I’ll be the best skincarer ever.”
“This is so stupid”, he says in a laugh. The kind of laugh which shakes his shoulders and sounds like little squeaks for air. You love this kind of laugh. 
It always makes you laugh and smile with him. You end up smooching his neck as well, doing so happily. 
“You gotta admit, it has a ring to it.”
“Yeah, I guess”, he says and ends his giggles with a content sigh. He reaches for your hand and grabs it tightly to guide it to his lips. They feel soft as he kisses your knuckles. Once. Twice. Three and four times. Then a stub with his button nose, “thank you so much for this”, he says. 
“Yoongi…”
“I know I didn’t show it last night, but I was really moved by it and I was happy. Yeah. I was really happy. I’m sorry for sucking so much at showing it.” 
“Don’t apologise, my love. I knew that you loved it.”
“Good, that’s good. My love”, he says and pulls your arm tighter around him. 
You nuzzle into him, tightening your arm around him. 
“You’re so warm”, he sighs dreamily.
“And you’re soft”, you tell him, slipping your hand to his tummy to rub it softly. He loves tummy rubs. Only a few seconds of them and he vibrates in soft purrs. 
Today is no different. Rhythmic and terribly sleepy, he fills the silence with his happy purrs. You love that this is just part of him. It’s so relaxing to hear him purr. 
Only a few minutes later and he takes your hand to stick it under his shirt. You glance at him, he meets your eyes shyly.
“I like that”, he whispers, “don’t judge me.”
“I’m not”, you assure him, nuzzling your cheek against him, “I like it too”, you tell him and begin to caress his tummy.
It’s so incredibly soft. Not only because his skin is silken and perfect, but also because he has just enough tummy that he is soft. He is just grab-able enough that you can squish him. You like that because of how perfect he is to pet that way. And Yoongi likes it because he has the most sensitive tummy and when you rub it, he feels at peace. 
This morning however, he also can’t deny the other effects your loving touch has on him. He was way too exhausted to think about sex last night, but he feels rested today. Which means that your touches leave behind just a small tingle of desire in his tummy. Paired with your neck kisses and the incredible softness of your body behind him and Yoongi can’t deny it anymore. This is making him needy. 
The concept of being needy was entirely foreign and rather undesirable for Yoongi before he met you, but with you he really enjoys that feeling. Except for the aching boners he gets as a side effect. He doesn’t like them. Not at all. 
He tries to ignore it at first. You aren’t making any moves and the current situation is so comfy that he doesn’t want to ruin it by asking for more. But then you begin slipping your fingers under the waistband of his pants every so often and Yoongi is spiralling. 
He is aware that you are only doing it because his lower tummy is the softest and you enjoy the feeling of his happy trail under your fingertips. But it’s getting so unbearable to stay calm. You are so close to where he aches and yet you feel too far away. 
You are in the midst of running your hand up his tummy when he snaps. He grabs it, making you gasp in surprise because of how passionately he made contact. 
You lift your head from his neck, studying his face. 
Yoongi acts fast. In one swift movement he has your hand tugged to his cock. He presses you close, making you feel every single inch of his hard length. 
“Please”, he gets out in a whisper, grinding his hips into your hand. 
“Oh my god, Yoongi. Did this make you hard?” you gasp.
He glances at you, meeting your amused yet very excited expression. 
He nods his head and squeezes his cock with your hand in between.
“Please.”
“What do you need?” you ask, knowing very well what he needs.
“Your hand.”
“You’re holding my hand.”
“No”, he is pouting. It makes you smile, because it’s adorable, “I want it there”, he says and rubs his cock against your palm, “like this”, he says breathily, “touching me”, he sighs even breathier and with his fingers squeezing your hand. 
Your stomach clenches in arousal. He is so sexy when he is like this. Especially when he explicitly asks to be touched.
“Mhm Yoongi, you’re so hot like this”, you purr and give his cock a gentle squeeze.
He lets out a quiet sigh, rolling his hips into your hand.
“Do you want it like this?”
“Wanna take off my pants.” 
“Okay, do it”, you say, giving him space.
He manages to take them off until they sit around one of his ankles and then he gives up. That’s good enough. He needs to be with you again, feel your warmth and experience your touch. You fucking made him obsessed with it and now he can’t get enough of it. 
He returns to the previous position, wiggling his butt against you and giving you a boyish look over his shoulder. It makes you giggle and hug him tight.
“Comfy?” you ask after smooching his cheek.
“Yeah, comfy”, he says and looks at your lips, “kiss me.” 
He barely manages to finish his request and then he is already gasping as you use a bundle of his hair to tilt his head into a kiss. It is rough and passionate. Yoongi didn’t expect it, which results in his head to get dizzy with the first contact. His tummy also did a really, really intense clench. It was the most amazing feeling ever, even if it resulted in his cock to grow even harder. 
You moan into the hot kiss, feeling entirely consumed by him. His exposed butt is pressing into your crotch, his naked legs rub against yours and his hard cock begs for attention. He is so close to you. So utterly and entirely engrossed in your presence and now you can feel him up with all the time in the world. Oh, you are so desperate for him.
It gets too much. You can’t control yourself anymore. Without warning, you take his cock between your fingers and pick up an almost punishing speed. 
Yoongi reacts accordingly. He breaks the kiss to squeak in surprise. His body flinches and his legs press together. 
“Wait”, he gets out, looking up at you with widened eyes and his lips parting in a gasp. 
“You’re so hard, holy fuck”, you whisper seductively as your hand pumps his heavy cock. Fast. Rough. With the intent to make him shake. 
“It’s t-too much”, he gets out and gasps, arching his back which results in your contact to break. 
Not with you. You pull him back against your chest, sliding your hand to his throat afterwards. Like this, his head is on your upper arm while his throat gains a new necklace in the shape of your hand. 
You press your lips to his ear, keeping your voice in this one specific register which will always make him weak. 
“Is this too much, mhm? Should I slow down?” you ask as your hand around his cock punishes him quickly. He needs no punishment and yet you can’t stop. He is so fucking perfect when he writhes in forced stimulation. 
“Slow, yeah, slow please”, Yoongi begs.
“Okay. I’ll slow down. Like this?” you ask and stop your movements so you could massage him instead. You keep your hand around his tip, massaging him in smooth pulses and gentle squeezes.
Yoongi presses back against you, tilting his head to reveal more of his neck. You squeeze down on his veins, watching hungrily as he rolls his eyes back in bliss. They flutter closed a second later.
“Yes”, he sighs, following it up with a quiet, “holy shit ___, that feels so good.” 
“Yeah, you just keep sighing my name. Your voice sounds so pretty when you do.”
“___”, Yoongi sighs, placing his hands on your lower arm to squeeze. His fingers are just a little clammy, his touch is filled with no strength. He wants to simply feel you, make sure that you are real and that he is actually experiencing the pleasure you make him feel.
“That’s it. Keep moaning my name”, you encourage him, moving his head with your hand on his throat. Like this, you can kiss his cheek. It makes you so happy because you can feel how Yoongi actively chases your kisses by tilting his head closer. 
“___, ah.”
“My handsome love”, you whisper, “my pretty prince.”
Yoongi likes the praise so much that he moans your name again. Quietly. Like a breathy whisper. He is so far gone in this warm bubble of pleasure, comfort and safety that he can’t do much more than whisper. This is the best morning ever. He is so safe, so warm and so well-touched. Yoongi presses himself closer against you and sighs your name.
You abandon his tip for just a moment because you want to feel him up entirely. You go slow, pressing his cock against his tummy to run your hand up and down the underside of it. His skin is so soft, while his cock is so hard. The contrast of it feeds your obsession for him inch by fucking inch. With every second you touch him, the feelings you have for him get easier to bear. Not much, but at least you don’t feel like suffocating anymore.
Yoongi runs his hands up and down your lower arm, following it with his head turning as he tries to kiss you. His lips are parted, giving you a little sigh.
“Feels good?” you whisper.
“Yeah, feels…good…ah kiss me, p-please.”
“My beautiful Yoongi”, you whisper and kiss him, swallowing the happy sound he makes. He doesn’t really know how to kiss you at first. As if he forgot everything he ever learned because you are touching him so good that his brain turned into mush. You know that this is what is happening right now. 
It’s not often that Yoongi asks to be touched. So whenever he does, it means that he wants to be turned into a dumb, pleasure-drunk mess. No wonder he kisses messily at first, you’ve got him ruined. You slide your hand from his throat to rub his chest instead. It rumbles in deep purrs of enjoyment and his lips soon after find your rhythm. Slow, loving tongue kisses. The kind which leaves both of you so, so lightheaded.
Somewhere in the maze of loving kisses, you allow your hand to change course. You wrap your fingers around his length again and pick up a steady pace, jerking him off with the help of all the excitement he leaks. Of course he’s wet. Yoongi’s so easy to pleasure once he trusts you. He gets wet so easily.
The kiss breaks because Yoongi needed to gasp. Your eyes flutter open, meeting his gaze. It is hazy, blurry and filled with devoted submission. He can’t stop staring, even when so close to your face. His eyes keep switching between your left eye down to your lips and up to your right eye before repeating the route again and again and again. He is so obviously in love, which makes you want to never look away.
You haven’t noticed it yet, but you are mimicking his feelings. Your eyes can’t stop racing between his eyes and his lips and if it was physically possible, Yoongi is sure that your pupils would have turned into little hearts by now.
“Closer please”, he whispers and you hug him against you, placing your hand on his waist to keep him close. Yoongi has to moan at the contact, fluttering his eyelids for just a second before he begins drawing little triangles on your face again.
You are enjoying this moment with intense pleasure bubbling in your tummy. Truly, you don’t even need to be touched to feel satisfied. This is making you feel so fulfilled. And it is filling you with this warm desire to make him feel in paradise. You pick up your pace, watching in delight how Yoongi reacts.
He closes his eyes and scrunches his nose up, letting a quiet, “fuck” slip from his lips.
“Yoongi”, you press out, hugging him tighter. You lower your lips to his face, spreading soft kisses on every inch you can reach.
“I can’t hold it for much longer”, he confesses, pressing back into you to get as close as possible. Truly one may think that it wouldn’t be possible to be closer, but somehow Yoongi manages to merge even deeper with you. Warm back against warm chest, his hands holding your arm while you hold him and with your legs tangled into a mess which makes sense to you and him. You are so close in fact that you can actually feel how his body prepares for his high. He is tensing his muscles more and more and gains so much more warmth to his body.
“Did, did you hear me?” he tries with his voice just slightly higher than usual. Not much, but it is clear that he is struggling. He is breathing so heavily and his butt keeps rubbing against you as he squirms.
“I heard you”, you assure him, kissing his cheek, “does it feel good for you or should I change something?”
“More on the tip, please.”
“Okay. Like this?” you say, massaging his velvety cockhead.
“Yeah….” he gets out and rolls his head away to bury it in the pillow, “ah”, his voice is muffled by it, “ah god, ah.”
It goes on for about five strokes and then Yoongi gasps and turns his head again, looking up at you with so obviously faded eyes. He is so far gone.
“Soon.”
“I know, you’re doing so well”, you praise him, caressing the side of his ribs slowly.
“Tell me that you….ahmhm”, he gulps and tries to continue talking, doing so with his eyes glued to your lips, “that you love, ah, love me.”
Your heart flutters.
“I love you, Min Yoongi.”
“I love you too”, he chokes out and scrunches his face up as his high hits him. This is all it took. To watch your lips form his favourite words paired with your closeness and skilled touch, is all it took. He reaches up and pulls you close with his trembling hands gripping whatever part of your head they could reach. Your nose collides with his cheek and soon you feel his lips attempting to kiss, but failing miserably. You’ve got him climaxing so hard that it is impossible for him to do much more than keen quietly and fight for air.
“Good boy, you’re doing so well”, you talk him through it with loving whispers and little pecks on his pouty lips. And Yoongi swears his entire world lights up because of it.
He comes down way too soon for your taste, now merely shivering in your arms while his cock softens in your hand rapidly fast.
“Princess”, he gets out, hooking his arms behind your head to pull you into a kiss. It is sloppy and filled with gratitude. You love it so much, but you want so much more. You break the kiss, making him beg for more. You have to ignore him, even if you want to keep kissing him. He isn’t done yet. One wasn’t enough.
You roll him to his back and claim the emptiness between his legs. They are still wobbly from the intense orgasm you gave him, making it easy for you to pick them up and slide off his pants completely. You throw them to the side and lean down, picking up his softened cock to put him into your mouth.
Yoongi’s hips shoot up, his legs close around you and a surprised mewl rolls off his lips.
“What are you doing?” he keens, placing his hands on your head to tug you away.
You hum around him, licking and sucking off the sweet tasting cum coating his cock. The vibrations feel intense around his length, forcing his hips to lift again.
Oh how heavily he is breathing, how much he squirms.
“Please”, he gets out and mewls, “please, sensitive, please”, he pleads, trying to tug you off of him, which only ends in you taking his hands and pinning them into the sheets besides his hips. You put your weight on them, making it impossible for him to flee (one has to remember that he could easily lift a truck if he wanted to, he could very well flee but he doesn’t want to).
“Please, sensitive. Hurts, please”, he begs, coughing out a squeaky moan as his soft, little dick gets sucked clean by your hungry mouth. He is still so delirious from his first high and being brought over the edge in such an intimate, safe way and now he has you forcing his cock to remember what pleasure feels like. Yoongi was so ready to fall into the afterglow, but you are keeping him burning. It feels hot, fiery and torturous.
“Sensitive”, he gets out, wiggling his hands even if you pin them down with your fingers squeezing around his wrists, “holy shit, why do you wanna torture me?” he keens, kicking the sheets with weak legs.
You are high. You seriously are. This is the best feeling ever and he tastes so good that you wish to taste nothing but him from now on. His soft cock feels so good in your mouth. So fragile and sensitive and made to be ruined by you. He fits so perfectly in your mouth like this. So well in fact that he can fill you out comfortably while your tongue explores the softness of his balls.
“Oh god, please”, he is begging, squirming away and fighting your grip as best as his shaky arms allow him to. And despite all of that, he is starting to grow hard again. Rapidly if one may add. So quickly in fact, that after a few hungry flicks of your tongue against his balls, he is filling out your mouth so well that you can’t reach them anymore. You cup them in your right hand instead, using your left hand to caress his tensing tummy. It is so sticky and wet from his first orgasm. His hands reach for your head instantly, making you chuckle because it was so predictable.
“Nuh-uh”, you hum around his cock, pinning his hands into the sheets. He grabs your hands, squeezes them as tightly as possible and then lets out a high-pitched mewl.
“Please, this is too much”, he gets out, arching his back, “fuck, please.”
You moan around him, grinding your tongue against his cock as you bob your head up and down. He is almost completely hard again. Of course he is, because he loves it. You know your boyfriend. He might whine, but he loves being overstimulated.
You must admit that you never did it with your mouth before, at least not like this, but there is always a first for everything. After all, you love trying out new things with him.
Now swollen and hard in your mouth, it is difficult to fit him down your throat entirely. Especially in this position. You concentrate your attention on his first two inches. They are the most sensitive after all and you love having them in your mouth.
“A-ah”, Yoongi lets out, dropping your hands to instead twist the sheets. His hips are lifting off the mattress again, but this time around it wasn’t from overstimulation but pleasure. You got him hooked again. Even if his legs close around you and you have to push them apart.
“Mhm”, you hum and giggle, looking up at him with sparkly eyes and his cockhead on your tongue.
He is looking at you with his lids heavy and his cheeks flushed. His hair is a total mess, sticking to parts of his face.
“You’re hard again”, you say and lick him hungrily.
“It’s, it’s ‘cause you f-forced me to, to get hard”, he is stuttering, barely getting the words out.  
“I’m sorry, kitten. You’re so yummy that I can’t help myself”, you rasp and take him back inside, granting him one more second of eye contact before the position naturally breaks it. You close your eyes, sucking his tip and swirling your tongue as you move your head up and down slowly. He should really bask in those sensations.
“Fuck”, he gets out and moans shakily, dropping his head back in the pillow, “what did I do to deserve this?” he whispers and makes yet another sound of pleasure, sounding so good doing it that you have to look at him for a moment. You jerk off his cock as you do, pressing the thumb of your right hand down between his balls to give him just a small hint of pleasurable pain.
“Ngng”, Yoongi lets out, arching his back, “ah, a-ah, hah. Ah.”
“You deserve this because you’re my beloved, pretty kitten”, you tell him, increasing the pressure.
“Ah. Ah, ah hah, ah, a-ah”, Yoongi can’t stop making noises. What a total difference from the once reserved and quiet reactions he gave you during the handjob. You are soaking up those reactions like a woman starved.
“And because you’re my pretty kitten, you deserve to cum over and over again. Are we clear?”
“Thank you”, he mewls, because he doesn’t know what else to say. He feels so good. All he wants to do is thank you for making him feel that way.
Your heart flutters. He is adorable. And he looks so wet. His pink, velvety cockhead is covered in it. You have to taste him again.
You lower yourself back to his cock with the intention of not lifting yourself again until you have him creaming your mouth.
“Thank you…ah”, Yoongi moans, dropping his back in the sheets as his hands naturally reach for you again. Both of them. It’s so cute that he gets so touchy when he is being sucked off. He holds your head gently, but never once uses the grip to guide you. No, he merely wants to hold you because sometimes he doesn’t believe that the pleasure you make him feel is real and he has to make sure that it is.
Your mouth is so warm and soft, your tongue is even softer and so, so wet and your fingers know exactly where to squeeze and touch. You have also grown so confident in your skills.
Bear in mind, Yoongi always thought that your head game was amazing, but he can really tell that you are confident in it these days. Back when you started out, you only really dared to go further than his first two inches when you were drunk, but these days it seems to happen naturally. One minute, he has your tender lips kissing and sucking his cockhead and the next he is hitting the back of your throat while a deep moan vibrates in your chest. You don’t need to be drunk anymore to deepthroat him, it happens naturally.
And Yoongi hasn’t decided yet if he hates it because of how utterly ruined it leaves him or if he loves it because of how entirely blissed out it makes him feel. Maybe a little bit of both.
“Oh god, princess”, he moans, closing his legs again as hot pleasure shoots through them.
You chuckle around him before slipping off. You push his legs apart again, looking up at him with sparkling eyes.
“Stop closing your legs”, you tell him, following it up with your lips nibbling at his tip slowly. Every now and then you dart out your tongue, giving him a glimpse of warm, wet heaven.
“Sensitive, I can’t help it”, he says, eliciting a happy giggle from you.
“You always are”, you are teasing, “what’s with you?”
“It’s ‘cause you feel good”, he says and thrusts his hips, “more please.”
“Mhm ‘kay, but only if you don’t close your legs again”, you say, taking him back inside.
Yoongi rests his head back in the pillow, throwing his arm over his eyes as a breathy laugh slips past his lips.
“You feel so good”, he gets out and moans with a smile on his face, “fuck.”
He drops his legs on the mattress and wiggles his toes, meeting your warmth with a soft roll of his hips.
“Yeah, that definitely tops everything”, he whispers, placing his right hand on the back of your head to caress it.
You love how warm his touch feels and how gentle his thumb runs over your head. It makes you want to perform even better for him, go deeper and make him feel a thousand times more ruined. You slide your hand to his balls and begin massaging them as your mouth slowly but surely sinks down on his length.
“Yes, god”, he gets out, rubbing his legs against your body, “fuck baby, I’m sensitive.”
“Mhm”, you purr around him, which doesn’t help him at all. He just ends up twitching in your mouth while his legs rub against you in a desperate squirm.
“You don’t give a shit, do you?”
You shake your head, wiggling his cock down your throat that way. You hum when he is oh so deep inside you, sending a jolt through his legs. His fingers twitch on your head, trying their hardest not to push you down further.
“Fuck, you’re torturing me”, he gets out and laughs, arching his back.
You love when he is like this. When he feels so good and safe with you that he laughs during sex. To think about how he started off and how it’s going these days. You love this development, having to moan around him as your left hand slides under his shirt. You walk your fingers up his tummy and ribs, stretching them out on his pecs so you can rub his nipple.
His laughter stops, a loud gasp for air replaces them. He chases your touch, sliding his arm from his eyes to instead hold your hand through his shirt. He squeezes it gently, rubbing his legs against you needily.
“Fuck.”
There was no ounce of amusement or laughter in this word. Just desperate pleasure and the disbelief that something so amazing is actually happening to him.
“Yeah, god…that’s….fuck, princess.”
Maybe you like this kind of voice just a little more. Don’t misunderstand, you love when he laughs during sex. But when your touch hits just right that he feels so good that he can’t even find it in himself to laugh anymore to instead moan, definitely feels extra special. He spills his pleasure on your tongue with a throb of his cock. His taste is amazing.
You glide off of him until you can suck on his tip. Your lips fit so nicely around it. Like his cock was made to be sucked by you. He rewards your eagerness with new droplets of his sweetness. Truly, he tastes so good. You hum around him, sucking harder.
“___”, he moans, following it up with a roll of his hips, “___ baby…love, this is…fuck.”
You love that he just can’t stay still. He is an expert in lounging. Sometimes when you and he cuddle, you have to check on him because of how still he can get. And now he just can’t stop squirming and touching and rubbing himself against you. It’s so incredibly adorable to witness. 
You slurp up the saliva which has began running down his length and swallow it hungrily. There is just a little bit of his taste in it. Not enough for your liking and so you take his cock between your fingers and apply pressure on his swollen vein. You know just how to squeeze and rub that he leaks onto your tongue. 
Sweet like honey. There must be something magical in his taste because you get so needy for it that it gets hard to breathe. 
You slip your lips off of him, staring at his tip. It is deep red in colour, courtesy of you sucking his soul out of his cock. Your fingers glide to it and begin squeezing just right to milk him of his translucent goodness. 
“Fuck, jesus, you gotta- hrng”, he gets out and lets out a deep growl, throwing his head back as best as the position allows him to, “honey, fuck.” 
“You’re so wet for me”, you taunt and squeeze more out of him. You love how his cock looks when he leaks for you. So pretty and wet. How wonderful. 
And while he growls and gasps, you let out a chuckle. It is heavy in crazed pleasure. 
“You’re such a wet kitten”, you rasp and finally connect your tongue with his cock. You grind the flat of it over his slickened tip, ending it with a throaty moan and a flick of your tongue. You flutter your eyes at him, even if he isn’t looking, “you’re my fucking addiction”, you lull and sink him into your mouth as far as you can take him. 
Only once he is deep as you can go, you begin moving. Fast and harsh. You drool all over him, spill tears instantly and find it just a little harder to breathe but it’s so fucking worth it. 
Yoongi moans and he moans loudly. So fucking loudly. His hips roll off the mattress, his hands reach for his own thighs and squeeze hard to prevent them from falling closed. 
“Holy shit, holy fuck. Princess love. Fuck. Ah! Aha baby ah.”
Your left hand is working hard on keeping his nipples as sensitive as possible while your right hand holds his throbbing cock in place. If you wouldn’t, it would just be way too hard to keep the rhythm going.
“You have to stop or, or else I’ll- ah”, Yoongi throws his head back, arching off the mattress, “I’ll cum down your throat, please stop.” 
He is so polite. Even now when you are so clearly derailed in pleasure, he is trying to warn you. He is such a gentleman. Oh how you need this man to literally pump your stomach full of cum. Yeah, you are really derailed. 
You pinch his right nipple, keeping it between your fingers to massage it harshly. The pleasure swirls down his body and goes straight to his cock. 
“Please I have to cum, I don’t- ah”, Yoongi shudders and arches his back, “can I cum in your mouth?”
The switch up is so fucking hot. To have him go from begging you for a break to begging you for the chance to climax down your throat, it’s so hot.
You hum around him, nodding your head. 
“Really? Please. Ah- fuck, ___ please.”
You moan and go deeper, nodding your head with more vigour. 
“Thank you”, Yoongi croaks and drops into the sheets. A second later, you feel his seed shoot down your throat and his cock throb in your mouth, “holy fuck yes.”
You wanted to swallow everything, but didn’t take into account just how hard your boyfriend cums. It ends up spilling out of your mouth and you working quickly to try and slurp all of it up. You love every second of it, feasting on his taste with a pounding head. 
Yoongi pulls you off of his cock once overstimulation sets on.
“No more. Serious”, he chokes out, following it up with a breathless, “you’re fucking insane. What the fuck.”
You are so dizzy, nuzzling your nose into his soft inner thigh. 
“Fuck Yoongi, you taste amazing”, you lull in a raspy voice. Your throat hurts just a little from getting it creamed so good.
“I’m dizzy”, he confesses, rolling his head to the side, “princess…”
You kiss your way up his body, staying at his neck to cover it in gentle love bites. His taste still lingers on your tongue, making you dizzy. Yoongi purrs and rolls his head to the side, nudging your temple with his nose. A kiss follows.
“This was amazing”, he lulls, smiling against your skin, “you’re the best, my love.”
“Yeah?” you giggle, lying down beside him with your leg draped over his waist and his arm under you. He closes it around you, running his hand up and down your back. You can look at each other so well like this.
“Mhm, yeah”, he says, staring at your lips. He reaches up and swipes his thumb over your lower lip, “you got a little something there”, he says.
“Oh? Oops. Thank you”, you say.
“Mhm”, he hums and guides his thumb to his mouth to lick it clean.
“Hot”, you mumble.
Yoongi lifts his brows at you playfully and slips his thumb free with a bop of his lips.
“It’s the least I can do”, he says, giving you a lopsided smirk. He is so good at doing them.
You nudge his chest, letting out a very ungraceful snort. Yoongi thinks it’s the most beautiful sound you ever made, soaking it up happily.
“You’re dumb.”
“Why?” he asks in a chuckle.
“Because you’re being flirty, you know exactly what this does to me.”
“What? You gonna suck my cock again?” he jokes, making you snort again.
“God”, you fluster, dropping your head in the crook of his neck. You rub yourself against him like a cuddly cat, “Yoongi”, you giggle.
He chuckles deeply, sliding his hand to your lower back so he can press you closer to him. You feel so warm between your legs. He loves the feeling of it against his naked thigh.
“You know what we should do today?” he asks.
“Wait. I wanna guess.”
“Do it.”
“You’re gonna say cook together, eventhough I literally told your stubborn butt last night that you don’t gotta cook for me all the time.”
He laughs. Wholeheartedly and loudly. You join him, lifting your head so you can look at his happy expression. He laughs with his mouth open and his eyes squeezed shut. You love this kind of laugh on him.
“I’m right, aren’t I?” you stress, nudging his moving chest. It rumbles in his laughter.
“Yeah”, he says, nodding his head, “fuck”, he ends his laughter with a deep chuckle and a shake of his head, “why do you know me so well?”
“Because being loved means being known and I love you, which means I know you”, you say, grinning when he rolls his eyes at you.
“You’re so cheesy”, he says.
“And you love it, so stop rolling those eyes at me.”
He smiles, “sorry, you’re right”, he says and runs the back of his hand down your cheek, “my love”, he whispers and smiles, cupping your cheek.
You smile, leaning into his palm, “you’re my love too.”
He studies your face with lovedrunk eyes. A soft smile curls his lips. 
“Do you want me to return the favour?” he asks. 
“Mhm later, as a little break between work, yeah? I’m so hungry you have no idea.”
“I just fed you.”
You laugh. He laughs too. 
“I hate you for making me laugh.” 
“You loved it.”
“Yeah sadly”, you say and study his face. Especially his pretty lips, “okay actually. Can you give me one orgasm?”
He smirks. Fuck, he is so hot doing that. His eyes lower playfully.
“Of course I can, princess. Let me take care of you”, he says, picking you up to fix your positions.
469 notes · View notes
bethelighthalazia · 1 month
Text
Ruined everything!
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Summary:  Jealousy takes the better of your boyfriend and the stress of the last days just makes him say things he regrets.
Genre: angst (?), fluff (?)
Pairing: bf!Hongjoong X fem!reader
Word Count:  604
Warnings: none
[note: It's just a little drabble, but i saw this gif and it just gave me this tiny bit idea which i just had to write down ^^’]
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© by bethelighthalazia. Do not repost, copy or translate. Unless stated otherwise, those works are mine and born from my own ideas. I don't have any claim on the mentioned real existing Idols whatsoever.
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Laughing, you stood aside with Seonghwa, who was taking his break from shooting. You had brought coffee for everyone and waited with him for all the others to take their break too, although when Hongjoong comes up to you, he already looks a bit moody. It doesn't stop you from holding his coffee towards him with a smile.
“Hey Joong, here's your coffee. Seonghwa said you didn't have one y-” Before you could finish your sentence though, one of the members accidentally bumps against you while talking to the others and causes you to drop Hongjoong's coffee. Unfortunately, it spills onto his outfit. You tried to catch the cup and when you look up into his face, you actually wince, his expression more than angry.
“Great, y/n! Now I have to get changed and the staff has even more work!” Hongjoong huffs out, grabbing the tissues from your hand harshly before you hurry to get more tissues. “Hongjoong, it's fine, the stain is not as big, we can fix it.” Seonghwa tries to calm the captain, but for some reason, this seems to anger him just even more. “Yeah, of course you stand up for her, huh? How about you take her then? Don't need a stupid girlfriend who ruins everything all the time!”
These words feel like a slap in your face and the moment Hongjoong turns and sees you standing there, he feels horrible for saying it. Of course he loves you, but the day had stressed him so much, he lost his patience and let it out on you. “Y/n, I-” He started, but cut himself off, noticing the tears that had appeared in your eyes. 
You didn't want to hear it, your week already had been shit and now your boyfriend says this? Before anyone could react, you throw the tissues at him and turn around, leaving the set, running. It just had to happen someday, Hongjoong is an idol and you are just a normal girl, so why should one like him love you?
It didn't take long for your phone to blow up, the boys asking you to come back and that your boyfriend didn't mean it. When Hongjoong called, you declined the call and turned off your phone for now. If he truly wanted to find you,he knew where you would go. The only place, you always felt safe and comfortable, even though without him, it felt cold.
Hours went by, you had curled up on the chair in his studio, and when Hongjoong entered it, you had fallen asleep from crying. When he saw you there, his heart stopped for a moment, thankful that you didn't leave completely. Carefully, he laid a blanket over you before sending the boys a text, letting them know that he found you. 
“Y/n…I'm so sorry for what I said. I never meant it…” He whispered, his fingers gently caressing your temple, then he carefully lifted you out of the chair to settle down on the little sofa with you in his arms. “D- don't leave me, joongie…” Your voice was quiet and sleepy as you shuffled in his arms without waking up, bringing a sad smile to Hongjoong's lips. 
“I would never leave you, y/nnie…I love you too much for that. You are my best friend, my muse, my treasure. And I'm so sorry for hurting you with my words. I swear, this will never happen again.” He whispered, followed by endless quiet apologies until the captain also fell asleep, his arms wrapped around you in fear of losing you because of his stupid words.
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taglist: @mingis-mizu, @tinyelfperson
(if you want to be added to a taglist, follow the taglist-link in my pinned post)
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uva124 · 3 months
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So yeah, I finished the drawing of Asha's redesign from Wish :D, maybe I'll make some changes in the future, but I'm happy to have finished it, it should be noted that I haven't seen the movie. , so I can't give my opinion on it yet, but I found it very interesting that their fandom is mainly made up of people who rewrote or made their own version of the movie, they are all very creative and it got me out of an artistic block. that I had a few months ago, but above all I found the rewriting of @annymation which is the one I have been most hooked on, so I wanted to do some redesigns of the characters coming out of its rewriting, that's why everything that has to do with the story of this version of Asha, as well as her personality and her world on which I base my drawing are the ideas and work of this account: @annymation
I'm just making a drawing of her character and how I would design her as well as sharing part of the process I had to do to draw her because, why not?
BOARD:
The first thing I had to do was put together a table full of references that reminded me of the character and things that I would like to add to her design, so I used milanote to do it:
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-Looked for some Asha's concept art and save the ones I liked the most, and add the main colors that I used in the design. -I also created notes to write down the personality of the character and some of his data to have a better guide, I did a little research and found publications that talked a lot about Asha's discarded designs and how Disney workers had put that she had tribe ancestry Amazigh on his mother's side and since his father was from the Iberian Peninsula, that's why the next thing I wanted to do is research more about their culture. -I am not an expert on this topic, nor do I belong to the cultures from which Asha has ancestry, so you can comment on any correction regarding this topic, I wanted to implement details of this culture to her design and I would really like to give a correct representation :)
HAIRSTYLE
Continuing with the theme, I saw that the hairstyles in the Amazigh culture mostly had this type of colorful decorations on their braids and dreadlocks, that's why I also posted these reference photos for Asha's hairstyle.
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-Finally I decided that Asha would not have all her hair full of braids or dreadlocks, but only a few accompanied by these decorations with a great variation of colors, although it was fun to sketch the many hairstyle options that I had in mind based on these concept art and other photos that I had saved
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TATTOOS:
-Another detail that I liked was giving Asha some tattoos with designs from the Amazigh culture, because I saw that it was quite common for women to get them, the tattoo on her forehead is a symbol of protection against bad influences, that's why the The middle symbol is responsible for deflecting it in the 4 directions, I also added a similar one in Asha's right hand.
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ASTROLOGY AND THE SPACE:
-An important part of Asha's rewrite is her knowledge of astronomy inherited from her father, especially with the stars for obvious reasons xd, so in addition to adding constellations to her dresses, research the meaning (or something like that) of the planets. Only 3 really reminded me of the character, which were: -Mars: Symbolization of the internal conquering function of moving forward, independent, self-determined, enduring failures with new energy, courage and energy to fight for your desires. -Saturn: Maturity, effort to solidly build realistic criteria, frustrations are transformed into objectives to continue growing, critical and realistic, far from getting frustrated when an objective does not work, you strive to move forward and obtain even more resistant and solid achievements, perseverance , and tenacity (I feel like yhis it the most similar to Asha :D) -Moon: protective role, feeling very vulnerable outside your known areas, feeling of security with your ties, importance of family ties. The one that reminded me the most of Asha was Saturn, that's why I drew those Saturn-shaped earrings :).
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SUITS:
I looked for references and placed some on milanote, I noticed that the concept art was mainly divided into whether the dresses have lilac colors or warm colors, I decided to draw 2 models based on the discarded designs, although at first I thought of using only one color palette lilac and bluish, I realized that the reddish colors of her dress reminded me of Mars which has certain meanings that in my opinion coincide with Asha's personality. In the end I didn't decide what wardrobe she would primarily have 😅, but I like to think that in this version of Wish, Asha would have wardrobe and hairstyle changes like in some older Disney movies.
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-These are some of the concepts that I mainly used for my version of the dresses
FINAL COMMENTS:
I am satisfied with the result, it was fun to make all this, although what I researched mostly seems little, it actually cost me several hours and I did it at night, so as a funny fact the next day I was explaining all this information to my mother and I felt like I looked like that:
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(Make this drawing was so funny LMAO)
(Apologies if there are errors in my writing, English is not my first language and my writing is very basic)
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cissyenthusiast010155 · 3 months
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hiii!!! can you do a larissa x student story based on the song teachers pet? like they are in a secret relationship and they are very kinky together but they need to be careful and the reader sometimes doesn’t like being kept a secret so she tells her but larissa says it’s just for their protection though it’s okay and then larissa gets touchy and seduces the reader and they have dirty hot sexy time🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭
Under My Thumb ~Dark!Mommy!Larissa Weems xFem Student!Reader
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Summary— Reader, a student at Nevermore, has found herself in a complicated, toxic, manipulative explicitly sexual relationship with the one and only principal of Nevermore, Larissa Weems. What happens when Reader tries to talk to Larissa about it, when she starts to get tired of all the mind games and secrets…? Anon Response— Hiii @mxmmyviolet !! Thank you for the request! I love how detailed it is, and I would love to write it for you. Great song choice as well, very fitting. Hope you Enjoy! ♥️
Mommy… Master List
Requests & Prompt-List
Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!, darker, smut, themes of manipulation, age gap, grinding, humping, implied fingering, implied g!p, implied g!p fucking and smut, taunting, teasing, mommy kink, manipulation, guilt, guilt tripping, implied future smut, etc.
Enjoy (;
You were having a shitty day. You had a lot on your mind, finals were going on and a bunch of mental health crap that you just didn’t have the time for.
And like any shitty day by the end of it, you ended up in Larissa’s office. It was an unhealthy habit, you had to admit. It bugged you. But you couldn’t get enough of the woman. And your feelings overrode the logic on this one. Most of the time anyway.
You entered Larissa’s office after she called you in from knocking. Larissa stopped her work and looked up at you with a smile.
“Darling, I— what’s wrong…?” She began to enthusiastically greet you, but quickly changed direction as she saw your face.
You threw your things aside and by her fireplace, before coming around the woman’s desk. Larissa opened her arms and indicated for you to sit in her lap.
You didn’t hesitate, plopping into the older woman’s lap and curling up into her figure. Larissa looked down at you with care and concern, her hands wandering and caressing you lovingly.
“Talk to me, Darling… please…” Larissa pled.
You nodded slowly. You sat up a little more in her lap and took a deep breath, meeting her gaze.
“I… I don’t like being a secret…” you whispered, tears threatening to come to your eyes, “It’s— It’s destroying me…”
Larissa’s eyes widened and she nodded. Her one hand came to your hip, while the other tucked a strand of loose hair behind your ear.
“Oh Darling… I know it hard, but it’s what’s best… We need to keep it a secret for your own protection…” Larissa purred,
Larissa’s hand then began to wander from your face to your collarbone, to down your curves, where it stopped at your hip.
When you didn’t seem swayed by her words, Larissa’s eyes darkened and she smirked lightly. She leaned in and let her lips ghost the shell of your ear, making you shiver.
“It’s all for you, Darling…” Larissa purred in your ear, her hands starting to grind your hips against her lap.
You squeaked lightly and immediately moved your hands to her shoulders. You tried to say something, to use your logic and explain to Larissa, but then she started to bite you… bite your ear, bite your neck, bite any exposed skin… and you were a goner…
“You know I’d never do anything with the intention of hurting you…” Larissa darkly cooed, sucking on your pressure point and making your eyes roll back and your hips jolt into her lap.
Your breathing was shallow and spiked, as your hips began to give in to the grinding that Larissa’s hands were subjecting you to. Your eyes started to roll back as more and more jolts of pleasure ran through you, your core being stimulated oh so deliciously and working you up to your climax.
“Just want to take care of you, Darling…” Larissa husked in your ear, continuing her assault on your exposed skin with her mouth and tongue.
When your grinding became less controlled and more desperate, the blonde began to bite your sensitive spots along your neck, shoulders and exposed chest. She drew more and more whimpers and mewls out of you, bringing you closer and closer to the edge.
“Don’t you want mommy to take care of you, sweetheart…?” Larissa seductively husked in the shell of your ear, nipping the side of your neck rather hard after her question.
Your hips jolted against her frame with even more vigour and a desperate yelp escaped your lips. Larissa then suddenly stopped, bringing your humping to a swift stop as well as her mouth assault. She looked at your with a wicked grin and twinkling eyes.
“Right, Darling…?” Larissa cooed darkly, “You want mommy to take care of you, right…?”
Your breathing hitched and your pupils were already blown out. Your head was swimming, and all you could think about was Larissa Larissa Larissa…
Larissa’s firm hands… Larissa’s sultry and seductive tone… Larissa’s sharp tongue… Larissa’s assaulting mouth… Larissa… Larissa… Larissa…
“I… yes m-mommy—” you stammered followed by another needy mewl.
Larissa quirked her head and grinned like a Cheshire Cat in delight.
“Good girl…” she cooed wickedly.
You were still feeling slightly guilty and a little manipulated, but not to worry… Larissa was going to make that all go away with her shapeshifting cock.
~~~
Larissa Weems Masterlist
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365 notes · View notes
pedgito · 1 year
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i just saw your post about glasses!eddie munson and whenever you have the time, would you be able to write a cute series of reader finding out about his glasses ITS JUST ADORABLE
author’s note: this was meant to post sooner than now but here it is lol, i finished this pretty quick but got sidetracked. glasses!eddie has invaded my brain and it’s never leaving.
cw: sfw, glasses!eddie, eddie’s not so subtle flirting, acquaintances to friends, once again another fic where everyone bullies eddie (give this man a break), if i missed anything lmk!
word count: 2.5k
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“Do you wanna switch seats with me?” Your voice is soft, leaning back toward Eddie, whose eyes are nearly closed from how hard he’s focusing on the board, blindly scribbling something down on the paper. He’s lost on where the voice comes from until you’re in focus, looking back at him with a smile.
Eddie wasn’t a friend, but he wasn’t an enemy either. He was the boy who got picked on relentlessly and as much as you wanted to help, you weren’t sure it would change anything. Plus, he didn’t seem that bothered by it—or he was just really good at faking like he wasn’t.
“Oh,” Eddie replies, still confused, “I’ll be fine—Mr. Donahue’s handwriting is always shit, I can barely understand it.”
It wasn’t a total lie, but it was still legible.
“Munson!” The teacher's voice rings from the front of the classroom, “let's stop trying to distract other classmates and focus on our own work, okay?”
And if it wasn’t the condescension in his tone that pissed you off, it was the way he so quickly blamed Eddie for the interaction. He shrinks slightly, sending you an apologetic look.
It happens a few more times that week, catching Eddie glancing at the board as if it’s nearly impossible to see—and maybe he was telling the truth, but it’s also obvious that Donahue hates Eddie for no other apparent reason than just because he thinks he’s up to no good, which isn’t fair to Eddie.
You show up early to class the following week, bag resting in the chair of the desk beside you—Eddie’s usual seat, waiting. He’s always bordering on being late, making it to class as the bell rings, looking more frazzled than the others.
You weren’t sure what he got up to between classes, but he definitely seemed overwhelmed.
“This seat taken?” He asks with a smug smirk, pointing at your backpack. You smile slightly, reaching for it.
“Sorry—I just wanted to make sure I could sit beside you.” You tell him honestly. It throws Eddie off, his eyebrows furrowing together slightly before relaxing, eyes roaming over you curiously. “You said you can’t understand his handwriting, I was gonna let you copy my notes.”
“Can I copy your work too?” Eddie asks jokingly, but you can tell he means it. “I’m barely scraping by with a D in this class.”
You snort out a quiet laugh. “Let’s worry about the notes first.”
Eddie spends most of the class still struggling, forehead creased up as he sifts through your notes, writing things down sparingly. It’s almost like he’s trying not to be mean, focusing a little too hard on one word every now and then as he looks over, your papers perched on the corner of the desk.
“If my writing is horrible you can tell me,” You say, which makes Eddie chuckle, “seriously, I won’t be offended.”
“It’s not that,” He assures you, “it’s just—the angle, it’s a little hard to read them—“
“Oh, well,” You grab the papers in a bunch, extending them toward him, “here, just take them.”
Eddie ignored you, his fingers wrapping around the leg of your desk to pull it flush against his—it’s quick enough that it doesn’t make much noise, only a slight shifting that draws a few eyes.
“Or…that works too.” You say shyly, face heating up at his straightforwardness. “Better?”
He glances over, shifting the papers to his side and gives a subtle nod as his lips pull together in a tight line, “Yeah, actually.”
And it’s almost blissful silence as Eddie copies them down, asking a few questions when your words meld together out of habit when you’re writing too quickly, he still leans in slightly but you don’t pester him on it—eventually Eddie’s actions are noticed, all eyes shifting toward the back of the classroom.
When you look up, everyone is staring back, including the pensive and threatening eyes of your teacher.
Eddie mumbles a soft, “Sorry.” as he pushes your desk back.
“Do I need to remind you two that this isn’t a matchmaking class?”
And it’s a ridiculous comment to make, but it has Eddie scoffing slightly underneath his breath.
“I’m letting him copy my notes,” You say innocently, “is that okay?”
You can’t remember having a problem in any of your classes, either flying under the radar or one of the usual favorites—you’ve never felt this tense, staring down the entirety of the group that was staring right back, though your gaze was focused on Mr. Donahue.
Eddie looks at you briefly before settling his eyes toward the desk, fiddling with pen in his hands to soothe his anxiety.
“If Eddie has a problem, he can come sit up front,” He says coarsely, “I don’t think you have the wiggle room to be socializing, do you?”
And suddenly his gaze on you is forgotten, flicking toward Eddie.
Eddie doesn’t give him the satisfaction, shuffling his shoulders forward in an effort to hide himself, scribbling something random down on the paper in front of him—it’s something he did when was bored or uncomfortable, even, a comfort.
You catch Eddie toward the end of class, gripping his sleeve before he can sneak away.
“How far behind are you?” You ask him, peering up at him curiously. Eddie looks sheepish, glancing away for a moment.
“Uh, I haven’t really taken notes all semester—I kinda just..scribble shit down so it looks like I’m working.”
Your eyes slant down slightly, in an ire of disbelief as your mouth parts, “Eddie, are you serious?”
He shrugs, reaching a hand up to scratch his jaw. You huff through your nose, snatching the pen perched in Eddie’s pocket and uncapping it before shoving it into his hands.
“Give me your address.” You insist, holding out your arm to him. Eddie seems skeptical, fingers wrapping around your arm gently, shifting your sleeve up, “I’m getting you caught up—don’t look at me like that.”
And truly, he’s not sure how to respond. Kindness and niceties weren’t at all familiar, feeling like there was always some ulterior motive. Still, he scribbles down the information with slow strokes, careful that it doesn’t smudge—leaving a small smiley face out of spite, forcing a similar expression onto your own face.
“I’m free after six,” He tells you, “so unless you want to get caught up in awkward conversation with my uncle, wait until then.”
You laugh at that, pulling your sleeve down.
“How else am I supposed to uncover all of your secrets?”
Eddie smirks slightly, eyes averting toward the floor.
“I’ll tell you whatever you want to know—you just have to ask.”
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He spends most of his nights—sans the ones where he’s performing for the small audience at The Hideout or hosting Hellfire meetings—organizing campaigns and writing down random things that come to his mind, feeling the need to get the thought out on paper, even if it’s song lyrics or a drawing.
He adjusts the thin rimmed glasses up his nose, eyes hurting from the strain he’s forced them through all day. He knows he should spend a few minutes resting, even just closing his eyes for a moment, but he can’t help it. Eddie knows it’s his fault, the beginnings of a headache forming as he tries to focus, his finger sneaking up to rub at his eye—he can feel the haziness, willing it away.
But then you’re knocking at his door and every thought is thrown out the window—part of him never expected you to show, his heart thrumming in his chest as he leaps from the bed, tossing the papers away haphazardly and forcing the glasses up into his hair without a thought, pushing his bangs away from his face.
Eddie whips the door open, causing you to startle slightly.
“Hi.” You say wearily, a soft smile on your face.
“Hi,” Eddie responds slightly out of breath, before clearing his throat and offering a smoother, “Hey.”
Your eyes glance up, noticing the difference in his face. His bangs were like a trademark, constantly hiding his eyebrows. You point up curiously, speaking before you can think things through.
“You wear glasses?” You ask, eyebrows knitting in confusion.
“No—no uh, of course not.” Eddie responds quickly, adamant in his refusal. “Why would you—“
He’s clearly caught off guard, standing awkwardly in the doorway, eyes crossing as he follows your finger, only realizing his mistake when you drag the glasses down slowly, pushing them gently up the bridge of his nose.
“Well, that is definitely an interesting pair of non-existent glasses.” You say jokingly, grinning at his embarrassment, cheeks flushing a deep red.
It’s hard to explain how perfectly they fit his face—like it’s the missing piece that pulls him together. He’s not dressed up like usual, in a faded graphic shirt and gray pair of sweats, no jacket or rings in sight. It’s natural—and it’s in that split second you can see the real Eddie. Not the threatening, menacing Eddie Munson that everyone played him out to be.
Eddie nods wearily, beckoning you inside.
“I won’t tell anyone,” You promise him with a tinge of amusement, rounding on him as he closes the door, shoving the stack of papers at his chest, “—if that’s what you’re worried about.”
Eddie pulls the glasses off of his face, folding them up.
“It’s not that,” Eddie tells you, “—didn’t mean for you to find out about them, it kinda ruins the whole image, you know?”
Image. It makes you laugh to yourself silently.
“You didn’t seem like you were trying to hide them,” You giggled slightly, “besides, I don’t think they ruin anything.”
“I kinda forgot you were coming.” Eddie lies, knowing he had been riddled with nerves since he stepped foot inside of the trailer that evening, not understanding why he was so anxious to begin with.
“Look, I don’t mean to overstep or anything—“ You stop briefly, sighing softly, “but if you need a tutor or even just…some help, I don’t mind.”
Eddie doesn’t really know how to take it, staring at you like you’d grown a second head.
“I study with Nancy a lot,” You explain, “it’s really not a big deal.”
“I’m a lost cause,” Eddie admits with half-smile, “there’s no saving me.”
“I don’t believe that,” You tell him honestly, approaching him to shove the glasses back toward his chest, his other hand still stuffed full with the papers containing your notes, “—seriously, put them back on and I can spend a couple hours seeing where you’re at.”
Eddie listens, though skeptically, placing the glasses back onto his face—you smile without really thinking, causing him to react similarly.
“It’s okay to let someone be nice to you,” You assure him, “as many assholes as there are at Hawkins, there’s still a few of us who mean well.”
“I can’t be taught, I’m just warning you now.” Eddie remains adamant, leading the way toward his room. You follow behind eagerly, taking in the abstract way of decoration littered around the trailer.
“Fine—you can at least show me your drawings then.”
Eddie looks back at you briefly, a confused grin on his face.
“I’m really observant,” You tease, “and curious.”
“Promise not to tell anyone?” Eddie asks.
“I’ve already got one secret to keep,” You respond, teasing him lightly, “what’s one more?”
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“How bad is it?” You ask him, staring up expectantly.
“What—oh, my eyes?” Eddie asks, “Uh, kinda bad. It’s okay, though—I manage.”
You crease your eyebrows together, motioning for him to remove the glasses. He does, watching as you reach for a paper, holding it up in front of him.
“Tell me when you can read it clearly.”
Eddie nods, squinting as you move the paper closer and closer, until it’s only a few inches from his face, your eyes widening in shock.
“Eddie,” You stress, “you can’t be serious?”
“I told you I manage,” He argues with a slight laugh, “but it’s bad, I meant that.”
Your expression remains the same, arms falling to your side as you discarded the paper.
“They look weird,” Eddie defends, “that’s why I only wear them at home—I already get enough shit at school anyways.”
“Bullshit,” You say boldly, “they do not look weird.”
Unfortunately, you did see all of the relentless teasing he caught at school, that wasn’t lost on you.
“You don’t have to lie,” Eddie says, “it won’t bother me.”
“I’m not,” You counter, smiling as the glasses returned to his face, his eyelashes touching the lenses, bangs brushing against the rim, “they fit you—they’re…cute.”
Eddie snorts in disbelief, “Okay, enough.”
You smile to yourself, watching as his cheek flushed a faint pink.
“Can I try them on?”
Eddie doesn’t answer outright, pulling them away from his face and handing them over—they’re a little bigger, his more prominent facial structure different from yours and causing the glasses to slide down your nose slightly. You push them up with your finger, squinting at the strain it puts on your eyes.
You can see Eddie smiling over the rim, admiring how perplexed you look in the moment, “Don’t look at me like that,” You say playfully, “these things are really strong.”
Eddie shakes his head, “It’s—nothing, nevermind.” He pulls the glasses from your face gently, placing them back on his own.
And Eddie’s never been shy, but suddenly he can’t force the words out, afraid of the mix of both rejection and embarrassment.
“I like you like this,” You tell him, hoping it eases him, seeing how tense he was—clearly unloved by many, “I mean, I like you both ways but this—it’s nice.”
“You’re the first.” He says flippantly, not aimed at you for any specific reason. He’s not immune to the words thrown at him, they do start to wear on him after time, even if he brushes them off for the most part.
“They’re insane,” You tell him with a surety, “all of them.”
“Careful,” Eddie treads, “Jason would have a fuckin’ field day if he heard you say that.”
You shrug, smugness in your expression.
“He’s terrified of me.”
“Jason—terrified of you?” Eddie asks, begging for more clarification.
“Our parents are friends—I’ve seen…a lot.” You say cryptically, not wanting to dive into details, “I’m not one for blackmail but I’m not totally above it.”
“You’re so interesting,” Eddie speaks candidly.
“I’ll take that was a compliment?” You respond, “Hopefully.”
Eddie nods with a subtle smile.
“Well—like you said,” You start, repeating his earlier sentiment, “I’ll tell you anything, just ask.”
You hold your finger up as his mouth opens—
“But, notes first—secrets later.”
Eddie pushes his glasses up comedically, forcing a quiet laugh from you—it’s the exact reaction he wants. He settles, agreeing with your rules.
“Deal.”
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Please consider a reblog if you enjoyed this fic! It’s makes a huge difference. ♡
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nicoline1998enilocin · 4 months
Text
Everything I ever wanted
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Pairing -> Husband!Tony Stark x Wife!Fem!Reader
Word count -> 2K
Summary -> During your pregnancy, Tony couldn't keep his hands off you, and neither of you could get enough of each other. Now that your twin boys are born, he wants nothing more than to have you pregnant with his babies again, and he'll let you know exactly how he's planning on doing that.
Rating -> Explicit (E)
Warnings -> Established relationship ~ Husband/Wife, age gap ~ 10 years, references to breastfeeding, use of pet name ~ Gorgeous, references to pregnancy/childbirth.
Smut -> Breeding kink, pregnancy kink, lactation kink, Daddy kink, drinking of breastmilk (sexual), dirty talk, vaginal fingering, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), creampie, implied aftercare.
A/n -> My deepest appreciation and love goes out to @ccbsrmsf1 for helping me with the ideas for this fic because this couldn't have existed without your help! From listening to my ideas to bringing in some of your own, you have helped me a lot! I love you so much 🩵
A/n 2.0 -> My requests are open again! Please consider that I only have 24 hours in my day, so it might take a while to get the new requests posted, but I expect to post them around February/March. I'll be looking forward to what you will all come up with, and I can't wait to start writing requests again 🩵
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Banners: @vase-of-lilies | Divider: @firefly-graphics | GIF: Owner
Main Masterlist | Tony Stark Masterlist | Read on AO3
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You're sitting on the couch with your son, Joseph, watching TV and breastfeeding him. Next to you is your husband, Tony, holding the other half of your beautiful twin boys - Jacob. While your attention is divided between your son and the TV, Tony can only focus on one thing: the taste of the delicious milk your body produces.
It was relatively early on in your pregnancy that you and Tony found out he had a lactation kink, and as soon as your milk came in, he was nursing from you to get the edge off.
And now, as he's sitting on the couch next to you, there's nothing else he would rather do than wrap his pink, plump lips around your sensitive nipple to get every last drop of the precious milk he so much desires from your body.
"Careful before you drop him while you stare," you joke, and a bright red flush spreads over his cheeks as he knows he got caught staring. He adjusts his hold on his son, who is comfortably snuggled up in his dad's arms during his nap.
It's good that Joseph was quickly done drinking because while both boys were down for their nap, Tony pulled you into your shared bedroom for his fill of your milk. Soon, you're completely bare on the bed while he has one of your sensitive nipples in his mouth, sucking and drinking from you as moans tumble from his lips.
One of his hands has found its way between your legs, his thick, long fingers slowly thrusting in and out of your wet pussy, his thumb giving some attention to your clit. It's not enough for you to cum yet, but with him drinking from you, your pleasure is very much heightened in the process.
His clothes are strewn across the floor, and his hips are rutting against the soft fabric of the sheets to give himself a little relief, too. His cock is achingly hard as he tries to alleviate some of the arousal he's feeling, not wanting this to be over before it even starts. A deep moan escapes your lips when he changes the angle of his fingers, finding your sweet spot effortlessly.
"D-Daddy!" you exclaim as one of your hands squeezes his bicep, leaving small crescent moon-shaped indents where your fingers are, the other laced in his hair, pulling roughly as your orgasm threatens to wash over you with a powerful force.
"C'mon, Gorgeous, cum for Daddy," he coaxes you, and it doesn't take much more for you to fall over the edge finally, his fingers thrusting in and out at a brutal pace, his thumb stimulating your clit to work you through and prolong your orgasm all at the same time. A deep groan falls from Tony's lips, reverberating through your entire body as he sucks the last drops of your milk out of your breast.
"Look at you, such a good girl for Daddy," he purrs at you before removing his hand carefully and climbing up, capturing your lips in a soft, sweet kiss that has your head reeling in excitement.
"I'm fortunate to call you my wife, Gorgeous, and you're such a perfect mama as well for our boys," Tony tells you as he places small kisses from your mouth to your jaw and neck. Before he met you, he would never have thought he'd ever have a kid of his own, let alone two at the same time.
Tony has been working in his lab for most of the morning while you're sitting in the large bathroom attached to the main bedroom on your floor of the Avengers Compound. Your phone is in your hand as you're waiting for the timer to go off, which seems endless. Your eyes are shut as you nervously await the test results, secretly hoping for a positive result.
It has been about two months since you and Tony got married, and even though you never talked about having children - with Tony still busy as he saves the world as Iron Man - it's something you've been wishing for. Every birthday, every Christmas, your one wish was to become a mother, and the universe is finally swinging things your way.
The alarm finally goes off, and you quickly grab the test, which shows a very clear positive. You're pregnant and can't wait to tell your husband this fantastic news. With the test in your hand, you practically run through the building and down to Tony's lab, where he is tinkering with yet another one of his projects.
When you're at the door, Jarvis automatically opens it for you, and before Tony can even lift his head your way, you're already throwing yourself around his neck, sobbing from pure excitement.
"I'm pregnant, Tony! We're going to be parents!" you exclaim after pulling away, and you see a slight hint of fear on Tony's face before a wide smile appears, and the earlier emotion is nowhere to be seen. He is going to be a Dad, something he has never even given a second thought to until now.
"Are you- Wait, are we going to be parents? Oh my god, I'm so happy right now!" he says before grabbing the backs of your thighs and placing you onto the workbench, capturing your lips in a hungry kiss. The positive test is long forgotten as it drops to the floor, and Tony makes love to you right then and there.
"You'll be so beautiful when you're pregnant, all round with my baby, these tits all big and full with milk. Can't wait to have a taste of it, Gorgeous, want to nurse off these fucking tits every single day," he tells you between the rough, short thrusts. When both of you are completely spent, you collapse against Tony with a content smile, knowing you'll be starting a family in a few months.
He has been such a supportive husband throughout the pregnancy, from rubbing your feet when they got sore to listening to your endless rambles; he did all of it without a shadow of a doubt. And now, after a long delivery, you're both holding your twins in your arms. Jacob, the firstborn, and his brother, Joseph. They are identical twin boys, and both carbon copies of Tony.
As he looks at them, he feels a love that he can't explain. It's something he's never felt before, but he knows he will do anything and everything to protect his beautiful boys. And to know he has made these wonderful humans with you, the love of his life is the cherry on top.
As he thinks about the way you looked when you were pregnant, he knows he doesn't want to wait for another second but instead, he wants to be buried deep inside you to get you pregnant again, breeding you until you're dripping with his cum between your thighs.
"Can't stop thinking about how fucking hard I get when you're pregnant for me, Gorgeous. Having my babies growing in there has me going crazy," he tells you as he guides you comfortably onto your back, your hair spread around your head like a halo. You're looking up at him with love- and lust-filled eyes, biting your bottom lip in anticipation of what's coming.
He pulls your lip out of its soft grip with his thumb before grabbing it between his own, nibbling softly before pulling away and releasing the soft flesh from the gentle grip. A slight whine escapes your mouth as you get restless, needing to be filled by your husband before the twins wake up from their nap.
"What do you think, Gorgeous? Shall I fuck another baby into this perfect pussy of yours? This tight, warm cunt I love to be buried in? Spilling every last drop of my cum into it until it sticks, and you're pregnant for me, giving me another baby or two?" he asks as he guides your legs up, and you grab them by the backs of your thighs so you're beautifully presented for him.
"Maybe we'll make a little girl this time, what do you think? Having a little Princess to make our family complete," he whispers against the shell of your ear as he lines up with your entrance, your slick dripping out at a steady pace as you're getting more and more turned on by his words.
Without a single warning, he slides it into the hilt, and you clench down on his cock, feeling every single ridge and vein on his thick and long member inside you as you adjust to his size. Even after giving birth to the twins, it's a little bit of a stretch, and the moan leaving your lips is almost pornographic.
"Yes, Daddy! Please, fuck another baby into me; wan' all your babies and be pregnant for you all the time," you beg him, and that's all he needs to hear before setting a brutal pace, sitting back on his haunches as he holds your legs so far they're almost touching your shoulders, only intensifying the pleasure you're feeling.
With every thrust, he hits the perfect spot inside of you that has you seeing stars, driving you extremely close to the edge without tipping you over just yet. Your hands are gripping the sheets tightly, and Tony can feel himself getting harder inside you as he watches your breasts sway back and forth with each thrust.
"Fuck, Gorgeous, you're gripping me like a damn vice, 'm gonna cum for you! Take all of your Daddy's cum like the cumslut you are," he growls before letting one of your legs go and instead opting to give some love to your clit as well, which turns out to be your undoing. A wail of his name is enough to send him over the edge, too, making him fuck every last drop of his cum inside of you.
"Jesus, fuck! Take it, Gorgeous, take your Daddy's cum like you're meant to; gonna keep you pregnant for me all the time. Always want this delicious milk of yours," he says as he works both of you through your orgasms before collapsing next to you and panting heavily while some of his load drips out of you, your pussy unable to keep it all inside.
After he pulled out, he looked at the mess you had both made before scooping some of the cum with his fingers and shoving it back into you, not wanting to waste a single drop of it.
"We have to make sure it sticks, Gorgeous; we don't want to take any chances," he tells you as you gasp from overstimulation, but you also love it. By the time he's done, he lets you clean his fingers, and you moan contently at the faint taste of his cum that's lingering on them.
"I love you, Gorgeous, more than I'll ever be able to tell you," he says before pulling you close. You two lay like that for a few minutes before it's time for a shower, where you both wash each other gently, being careful of any sensitive areas.
It turns out that Tony's sperm is a lot stronger than either of you could have ever anticipated because nine months later, you're in the hospital again, and you have given birth to two beautiful identical girls, who are exact copies of their Mom. Baby Sophia and baby Olivia are your family's newest members, and they complete it.
When it's finally time to go home to your little boys, Tony can't help but look at you as you're getting one of the twins ready. What came out of his mouth, however, is something you didn't think he'd ever ask, though it doesn't surprise you either as you burst out into laughter.
"So, can we make another one?" he asks with a straight face, and it makes the moment perfect. His humor is one of the things you fell for; even in moments like these, you'll never get sick of it.
"Maybe later; right now, we have to take our girls home," you say with a content smile as you rub your thumb over little Olivia's cheek. You have never felt more in love than you do now and never want to leave the beautiful pink cloud you're sitting on.
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antimony-medusa · 8 months
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hi saw your daddy kink post discussing the phenomenon of giving grown characters surrogate parental relationships, and I understand where you’re coming from, but i really feel like it’s just a matter of the circles you run in, and the assumptions that you might make because of that. you mention how platonic reads of these dynamics are more uncommon than kinky reads, which i just don’t think is the case, and I think that arguing that people don’t even realize that they’re writing a kink is a little bit bizarre, and sort of assumes that you know more abt them than they do by projecting your own experiences onto them.
it isn’t inherently sexual to crave protection or a parental relationship that you may have missed out on, and it is certainly not universal. in my own family, my “grandpa” isnt my biological grandfather (nor do I really consider him to be my grandfather), but he’s my mother’s surrogate father and has been since she was in her twenties. an adult. he sees her as a daughter. she sees him as a father. there’s absolutely nothing kinky about it. and anybody who automatically assumes that must have their mind deep, deep in the gutter and/or the stranger side of the Internet. really, i find it a bit of a strange argument to randomly post in the first place—as if it’s a problem that so many people enjoy non romantic and non sexual relationships, and that these people must, in fact, have a daddy kink that they are unaware of.
that said, i do absolutely agree that fans bringing any part of that into phil’s chat is weird and they should Not do that, and that infantilizing characters is also very weird, and personally i dont even see him as being father figure to anybody on that island except his eggs, wilbur, and MAYBE an argument could be made for tubbo (which other cc’s on the island have joked about), but to each their own and all that.
sorry this is so long. TLDR, i get where ur coming from in terms of “warning , some people might read your stuff differently than you want here” but really not everything is a kink and paternal dynamics can easily happen in regards to adult characters, particularly young adults, without there being any inappropriate connotations. i know nothing i said will change your mind, obviously it’s set, but ykno diff perspectives and all that. hope ur doing well
Thank you for the ask! I see you were on mobile, I believe. :D I am also going to push the character limit with this response, I fear.
I agree that it isn't inhernetly sexual to go after a parental relationship that you missed out on, and there are many such cases. I'll even go so far as to say that it's not inherently kinky to go after a parental relationship that you missed out on, because there is such a thing as non-sexual kink, and heaven knows that MCYT writing is full of non-sexual kink. Lots and lots of stuff that is platonic that is kinking on fear, or being drugged, or kidnapping, or hypnosis, or familial relationships, etc— there's lots of people who aren't doing that. There are tons of people out in the real world (and in fiction), who are simply just expanding their family as an adult, and that's awesome. When I was in college there was this older couple who kind of adopted me and invited me over for thursday dinner, and they were awesome. There was nothing untoward going on there.
But look. I am an emduo fan who likes to see my guys be murdery, and because of that, I've ended up reading a bunch of Dark SBI. I've ocassionally gone "this cannot be what everyone is doing" and I've read stuff tagged as "family fluff" that I find recommended. I am aware of where the genre is going, particularly with the rise of "dadbur" and "dadnoblade" interpretations.
And look, you have just got to trust me on this one. People are writing stuff that in any other fandom I would be recommending they put kink tags on the work so that people who liked that trope could find it and people who didn't like it would avoid it, but that comment in DSMP would just lead to people getting doxxed, so I just grit my teeth and go "i guess that's baked into Dark SBI or Tooth Rotting Fluff now, I sure hope that doesn't hit anybody's triggers".
Like I PROMISE you. The first draft of this response included excerpts of fics that I've read and I was like "can YOU pick the ship fic from the /p fics here"? But I have a horror of ever leading to someone getting cancelled on twitter, so nothing that could possibly be identifiable of these writers. But like—
Some of the ways that Tommy gets treated in the narrative are almost indistinguishable from a bodice-ripper romance. Some of the tropes being used— within DSMP we've all clasped hands and agreed to interpret it being platonic, but in any other fandom, you are going to start getting comments that you might not want to get. The tag is FULL of stuff that is DD/LB in everything but name. Maybe my mind is in the gutter here, but if you move out of this fandom, you are going to move into circles where a lot of people's minds are in the gutter, and you are going to get a very different response from your comments!
And I was talking about daddy kink here specifically, because I see that one come up a lot and it's gotten egregious lately, but this also applies to dehumanization, and fearplay, and predator/prey, and "instincts" (in every other fandom that's gonna get people in a mashup of A/B/O, Hypnosis, and sometimes Agere responding to it), and kidnapping/drugging, AND the way a bunch of "piglin instincts" stuff is just a BDSM au now where the Brute (dom) needs to be callmed down by their Runt (sub). The SBI tag is super kinky right now. And I don't have a problem with that idealogically, write your truth, but a) please don't bring that up in front of the streamers, b) if you move to another fandom you have got to be prepared that not everyone is doing their kink platonically.
Like I'm assuming that people don't know what tropes they're playing into, they're just building them from first principles, because the other alternative is that they are deliberately and knowingly writing kink and posting it in the & relationship tag with insufficient trigger tags, and I prefer to believe that people don't know.
I'm glad we agree about people bringing that into Phi's chat, or Pol's, or Luzu, or any of the other streamers that people have decided is So Old. A lot of people aren't comfortable even being assigned dad, as we saw with Felps, so bringing it even further is just— uh oh, no.
I do not have a problem with people liking non-romantic and non-sexual relationships. I find it a bit odd that much of the fandom can't concieve of a non-romantic and non-sexual relationship without making it familial and specifically lately father-son— don't you have close friends?— but I am fully in support of gen writing. I primarily write gen! I'm an avid commentor on gen fics!
But some of the tropes at play in the fandom are kinky, there is no way to avoid that. The fact that they are set in a familial relationship doesn't negate that. Some of the ways that the DSMP characters get treated would be distinctly non-familial if you ever brought it out of that context. And I am just warning people, if you bring it out of that context, be prepared for the response you get.
You cannot take DSMP tropes and apply them one-to-one in other fandoms, with other streamers swapped in, and expect them to be read the same way. Like i'm sorry, but that's just true. If you are posting the same sort of stuff that for Cellbit & Phil that you would post for Tommy & Phil, people will assume that you have a daddy kink, because usually when a relationship between a adults that are actually similar in age is refered to with paternal language it's a kink thing. That is how the broader internet works. (And anon, if I had a daddy kink, would I be complaining about the fact that I can open any SBI fic and have about a 40% chance of hitting it and I'm seeing signs of this appearing in QSMP? I assure you I'm not "projecting [my] own experiences onto them" here.)
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urrockstar-xe · 5 months
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mistletoe mishaps - j.t x fem!reader
posted dec 2nd, 2023 11:47 am
Anon asked: HII!! Happy holidays! I was wondering if I could request Jason Todd with the prompt “reader has been caught up in the stresses of the holiday, character has been spending the day trying to get them under the mistletoe” Thank you!! 😊
here you are my love! thank u for requesting :D happy holidays!!!
masterlist
wordcount: 0.9k
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“Are you sure you don’t want any help with that?” Jason asked for the third time in the last 20 minutes, a mixed look of confusion and concern on his face as he watched you try to untangle Christmas lights.
With a sigh you shook your head no, despite probably needing his help, he had just been shot in his side a few days prior. Finally complying with your request that the Red Hood take the next few days off, an early christmas present for his girl is what Jason was calling it. 
Besides, you were too stubborn to accept the help you had so confidently denied needing to begin with.
so now you were left to untangle lights, make family/friends present lists and unpack boxes of Christmas decorations all on your own.
Although getting out the boxes was something Jason insisted on helping you with despite your efforts to stop him.
Deciding to give up on the lights for now, you abandoned them, tossing them aside somewhere near the tree box and pulling your notepad into your lap, resuming your list of present ideas.
“What are you getting Bruce?” You asked, not looking up from the book as you wrote down some ideas for Dick and Tim. “Hell if I know” Jason shrugged, chuckling to himself as you urgently wrote things down, both of you knowing you’d hate yourself for the messy writing later on.
“What do you even get for someone who has everything?” “Plus the batmobile” Jason added, earning an exaggerated groan from your lips in response. 
“Oh my god, I’m forgetting something” You sat up, eyeing all the boxes in front of you before standing up, discarding the notepad on the couch by Jason. “What are we missin’ babe?” Jason flipped through channels on the TV, knowing he’d probably get scolded for trying to help as you searched through the boxes. 
“Mistletoe!”
you ignored the way Jason’s eyes lit up with an idea, opening another box. “I’ll go get you some, okay? it’s an easy errand for me to run, and you’ll have one less thing to do.” Jason explained, standing from the couch and pulling on one of his discarded hoodies that littered your apartment. You reluctantly agreed, sending your boyfriend off with a quick kiss and instructions on what kind to get, and then he was out the door, and you were left with the mess surrounding you. With no idea where to even start.
After what felt like ages but was really only an hour, you heard the front door open as you set a snowman cookie jar on your counter. Jason was only partially surprised at how the apartment had barely changed when he was gone but he also didn’t really care as all he had in mind was the mistletoe in the small paper bag. 
“Hey, Jay. Do you think that garland by the door looks dumb?” You asked, mindlessly taking the bag, setting it on the counter unbeknownst of the small extra mistletoe in his hands. 
“It looks good, babe, you’re doin’ a good job.” Jason shrugged, softly grabbing hold of the soft material covering your shoulder, effortlessly spinning you around, and holding the mistletoe over your heads. You gasped, taking note of the grin on your boyfriend's face but not noticing the way it dropped when you reached up and took it from his hands. “Awh, you got extra? thank you, love.” You smiled at him appreciatively before turning back around and taking off, careful to not trip on any boxes as you worked away in the living room, leaving a rather flustered Jason behind. 
Jason shook his head, disbelief covering his face as he turned to follow you but opted out of that when he came up with a plan B.
The eerie silence from Jason concerned you far later than it should have when you tilted your head as if to listen better just as a painful groan exited your boyfriend’s mouth. Instantly you ditched the tree ornaments finding Jason clutching his side as he leaned against the counter, mistletoe now attached to the entrance of the kitchen. Sneaky Bastard
“Jason, I told you not to help!” You said, worriedly removing your boyfriend’s hand from his waist and lifting his hoodie to check if the bandage was bloody and for any hints of stitches ripping. 
“I’m okay” Jason huffed out, setting his hand on your shoulder as if the counter didn’t provide enough support. You sighed, looking up at him with worried eyes before taking his hands and leading him into the living room, with no arguments from Jason when you sat next to him on the couch.
Feeling his arm snake around your shoulder, this time you decided to just breathe as you leaned into his good side, examining the mess of your apartment before seeing Jason grab something from the side table in your peripheral view. 
“What is that?” You asked, curiously, and as if on cue he held out the small extra mistletoe. You gasped quietly at yourself in realization. “Oh my god, I’m sorry, Jay, I didn’t even realize. I’m so dumb” You covered your face with your hands while rambling, earning a laugh from Jason, followed by a kiss on your hair. 
“C’mon, doll, let me see you” he smiled at the sight of your face, now holding the mistletoe just slightly above your heads.
Jason palmed the mistletoe, still holding it in his hand when he hooked his finger under your chin to place his lips exactly where they belong
on yours, of course.
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drunk-on-dk · 7 months
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OVERSET | JEON WONWOO (M)
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Pairing: ai!wonwoo x R&D!reader Genre: fluff, angst, smut Rating: 18+ (minors do NOT interact) w/c: ~9.4k
Synopsis: Increasingly becoming cognizant of the worlds surrounding him, W0NW00, an AI so carefully wired and generated with the purest intentions even has the potential to become jaded. How can such a consumeristic world be so cruel when all he once knew was the joys of 53V3NT33N? This new understanding makes him unfamiliar to fans; his creator sending him to you, a trusted developer of LEVEL 1 robots, in hopes that you can reverse the sudden changes in W0NW00’s conscious. Are you part of the system W0NW00 is learning to become adverse to? Or will your presence help remind him of the world he once only had knowledge of?
This is part of the Seventeen Sci-Fi Collab organized by the amazing @idyllic-ghost! Big thank you to Bee for being the genius behind this collab, all the world-building and work you've put into this is amazing. The sci-fi genre was something I had yet to attempt, and I found this enjoyable to write (thank you as well for being extremely patient as it took me awhile to feel comfortable enough with my edits to post this).
You can read all the fics here!!
18+ warnings under the cut!
warnings: reader & Wonwoo can be quite pessimistic; commentary on consumerism (?); reader is a bit systematic and lacks personality initially, they take their job very seriously; smut, unprotected sex (practice safe sex habits pls), was supposed to be suggestive but became a bit explicit.
a/n: I love the sci-fi genre, but writing my own sci-fi fic was a bit of a challenge for me. I had not meant to delay so much, but had been in a bit of an editing rut. I really hope you all enjoy this fic, as I am quite excited to expand more into sci-fi. Also major shoutout to @wonuwoe as I appreciate all the brainstorming and getting to meet you through this collab!!
★+ Prologue +★
"100 years ago it was thought that the Earth, as we know it, would disintegrate. That the sun would implode and leave everything in darkness. Miraculously, it didn't. Due to some external force, human scientists still haven't agreed upon what it exactly was, none of the planets in our former solar system were ever destroyed. The Earth, along with the other planets, were pushed away from each other, and ended up in different parts of the universe. Earth just happened to come to a solar system with alien life. At first, we were cautious, and people were prepared to fight. However, the aliens were welcoming of our planet. Those of us who didn't die from 'The Great Journey' or from trying to fight the aliens, were welcomed into the new solar system. Soon enough, we had integrated completely, and we received materials and assistance from our sister-planets in exchange for human labor. What humans knew of technology was very limited, but with the resources of the aliens we created artificial life forms. We named these robots Automaton, and they served as workers when humans couldn't. Eventually, there was no need for human labor at all. To pay back for the help the aliens gave us, we used Automatons. With the extensive development of these robots, we eventually managed to create artificial sentient life. These Automatons were human-like in looks and had human consciousness, but they could not bleed and were stronger than we ever could be. At the present time, there are even different levels of Automatons. Level 3 robots are the workers, level 2 robots are the caretakers, and level 1 robots are the celebrities. The Automaton music group 53V3NT33N (SEVENTEEN) is made up of 13 members, all very talented, and all representing two human states of mind."
★+ Under Diagnosis +★
W0NW00's previous developer had quit on him - more so had fled from the company, which was quite the gossip for many - unable to solve the sudden changes in consciousness that he was facing. Not even his lead cognitive researcher could understand this change in W0NW00. It all had become too much, the company put too much pressure on his previous developer, and him as well. Though he was a robot, he became increasingly aware of the demanding schedules and consumerism of it all.
What had made W0NW00 act this way? Why did his dominantly kind demeanor turn sour all of a sudden? Suddenly, his malicious side was portrayed more to fans, his unwavering kindness cracking beneath the spotlight. There was no explanation and it was not like any form of brute force could reset the drastic changes in his attitude.
At least to say, management really did not like this change in the automata. Even though there had been some oddities in other members of 53V3NT33N, W0NW00's recent behavior was starting to become quite troublesome in the eyes of the company, requiring his managers to pay extra close attention to what made the seemingly perfect idol tick. After all, his emotions were kindness and maliciousness. Fans of the group liked this duality, loved it even, as it made him an intense member.
However, W0NW00's cognitive system had been faring a little too much on the malicious side as of recently. His self-portrayal was turning bitter due to his sudden stand-offish nature. No one would understand why, it was hurting his relationship with the fans, and management feared it would harm his relationship with group members.
These changes have put W0NW00 in an increasingly tricky situation. Nights were no longer spent with other members, rather W0NW00 had been stationed in the research and development laboratory in the company building. Continuous tests were run on him, trying to understand his quickly developing violent thoughts. 
The first red flag was aggression towards other members, not physical aggression, but words of malice spoken to other members after schedules that went well. W0NW00 would always find a way to call out something he noticed wrong. Not that he meant to necessarily harm the members, but he couldn't help but nitpick at each and every flaw. 
5C0UP5 noticed it in the form of non-compliance and lack of care for the group's reputation. The leader couldn't wrap his head around this changing behavior either. W0NW00 had never been one to do anything unbeknownst to the group, but W0NW00 began to put the group at risk as he began to break the rules. He'd sneak out quickly after schedules in order to get extra charging hours, which would ultimately end up ruining rest and charging hours for the rest of the group. W0NW00's lack of care would peeve the rest of the automas off. 
Fans noticed it too, as W0NW00 wasn't responding as positively during events, which is when the company started becoming increasingly worried about the robot. Fans started questioning what had changed as well. 
Through this all, W0NW00 felt lost. He knew he was a robot, he knew what he was made for after all, but W0NW00 felt human, his conscience was human-like after all. Was this all that he was made for? Is he just a commodity? Then why does he feel this way about being consumed by others? Why can't he make any mistakes? Why can't he be his own entity? What would he be without 53V3NT33N? These are all things that began to drive W0NW00 deeper into his negative state. 
Management deemed it was time to take action, thus landing W0NW00 in the lab for further troubleshooting and ending up with you. 
★+ The First Encounter +★
W0NW00 remembers his first encounter with you all too well. You strolled into the office, glancing briefly at him with inquisitive eyes, and paying no further attention to where he was sitting at the examination table. After your brief fixation on him, your eyes remained focused on the clipboard grasped tightly in your right hand. You sat down with a sigh, clipboard clattering in the quiet room and making W0NW00 fully shift his attention towards you. His eyes which had once shimmered with kindness now had a dullness to them, a feature that his previous developer could not determine what had caused this change along with his negative state. 
You shimmied the mouse gently to awaken the bright LED screen. The clicking sound resounded across the room as you opened the software, humming in acknowledgment as the information regarding the robot illuminated before you. 
His previous developer's notes left you inquisitive as you skimmed them. This was a peculiar case. Typically it was easy for companies with R&D centers this powerful to reverse such effects on the cognitive state of the robots. 
"Good afternoon," You spoke gently, sounding polite yet W0NW00 could sense some firmness in your tone. "My name is Y/N, I am pleased to be assigned as your new developer. Can you please confirm your name for me?" You had a plethora of historical data and information that you could read on the screen in front of you, but it was protocol to ask. 
If one thing was to be known, it was that you always followed the expected protocols. 
That's why W0NW00's company hired you after all. 
"W0NW00," he spoke flatly, eyes focusing on the white, sterile walls ahead of him. It was the sort of room that would make anyone feel a bit unwelcome and cold. "Sixth member of 53V3NT33N." 
The fluorescent lighting made his vision go a bit blurry, he had always been a bit sensitive in this sense, and it's always been an uncertainty as to why his vision was affected more than other members. This was reflected in the data that was fed to your computer. W0NW00 watched curiously as you stood up, adjusting the brightness of the lighting in the room to be more accommodating per his negative reaction.
W0NW00 almost registered this as pure-hearted kindness, until he remembered that every thought, feeling, and reaction of his was collected as data through the damn diagnostic band that is wrapped around his arm each session. Regardless, this eased W0NW00 a bit, and he appreciated it nonetheless. 
You noted the improvement as he visibly relaxed, jotting something down on your clipboard before turning to face him. Your heart beat faster upon facing him straight on. 
It was hard to avoid the fact that the robot before you was essentially perfect, trying to not let your cold exterior soften as W0NW00's eyes shifted from the wall towards yours. He looked so kind even with his sharp, cat-like features. 
You approach him, wrapping the diagnostic band around his arm. This band is intended to connect to a small port on his arm, feeding all the information you need to your computer. He's cold, unnerved as you smooth the band over his arm, and confirm that it is connected. 
As noted, something seemed extremely off about the robot. The dullness in his soft eyes pulled on your heartstrings a bit too much for comfort. 
Personally, as a developer, you always tried your best to remain systematic in your actions. Everything had to be performed exactly per the defined process. You continually reminded yourself that your patients were robots, not humans. It was your only way to detach yourself from them, or else you knew you'd grow too fond of the autos you helped develop. It is too easy to do nowadays. 
Regardless of the tremor you felt within you, you proceeded with the diagnostic tests and questions. 
"Alright, W0NW00, now I'm going to run some tests. Please note I am not going to implement any changes in your system until these tests come back absolutely positive." 
"Noted," W0NW00 repeats blandly. "Can you please refer to me as just Wonwoo during these tests?"
You pause almost as if you're in thought, but you already know the answer. "I'm sorry, W0NW00, but that would be inappropriate of me. I have to refer to you by your designated name during these tests or else I can compromise the diagnostics." 
W0NW00 rolls his eyes in dissatisfaction, this doesn't go undetected by you. That was a new one. You'd never seen this much sass from a robot in a while, especially not a level 1 who was supposed to be perfectly charming. 
Turning back to your computer, you proceed with coding the tests for this session within the diagnostic system. 
"Our first test will be a data collection of your recent thoughts and actions, dating back to your most recent schedule. Can you recall anything that you'd like to share with me before I run this first test, W0NW00?"
"Hm," W0NW00 humors you, copying your trick from earlier as if to convince you he's thinking. You know better, especially since you can see this displayed directly in front of you on the screen. W0NW00 knows that too, but he's not going to make this easy for you. "Not necessarily." 
"Alright," you sigh, clicking the button to proceed with the first run of data. A copious amount of statistics are spat out on a separate sheet. This will be something for you to unpack later. You save this information, filing it away in W0NW00's collection for you to study after the remaining tests. 
"The next test will be to see if you have any reoccurring thoughts or actions. Are you willing to share any of those?" You pause, W0NW00 shakes his head to indicate he isn't willing to share any, so you continue with another data pull. 
You finish the session off with a couple of additional tests to further understand his cognitive state, tests that his previous developer hadn't been able to code and pull the statistics on. 
W0NW00 was relieved when you finally deemed the session complete. He felt drained, more than he ever had before - more than he ever felt after a long day of schedules. He couldn't wait to return to the dorm to charge. 
He watched as you downloaded the data from today's session to your electronic pad, the information transferring speedily and you ensured it was all there before putting the pad to sleep. 
W0NW00 noticed your systematic elegance as you took each step to save the data, file it away in an organized matter, and shut the computer down properly. Others had been a bit more careless, so W0NW00 almost appreciated your thoroughness. 
However, you were practically everything W0NW00 was growing distaste for. You were the system. You abided by it, you lived by it, and you would never understand him. He knew that damn well. You were about to know his thoughts about you as well. Part of him grew interested in the next session, just to see if it made you tick in any way. 
W0NW00 was stunned when you announced the diagnostic session was over, confirming the date of your next session, and leaving the room without another word. 
★+ New Day, Same Analysis +★
"Good Morning, W0NW00," you drone, still polite and as systematic as ever. W0NW00 didn't even bother to respond, sighing in resentment as you performed the same routine upon entry. He could predict your movements at this point after enduring multiple research sessions with you.
You stayed static, you portrayed no emotions during sessions, and it seemed as if you never would. It was beginning to drive W0NW00 a bit mad. W0NW00 was convinced he may be a bit more human than you, even if you were the one with a nervous system and heart pumping warm blood through your limbs. You might as well have the neural network of a robot at this point. 
It was a typical session. You'd enter in, bid W0NW00 "good morning" or "good afternoon" depending on the time of day, dim the lights, and turn on the LED computer screen. Your clipboard made the same jarring, clattering sound each time you set it down. 
You'd run the same damn tests. 
Ask the same damn questions. 
Collect the information on the same damn electronic pad. 
And you'd end the session with the same damn confirmation of the next. 
You seemed pleased with each session so far, but W0NW00 couldn't quite imagine you were able to gain much from these diagnostics. Maybe this session could be different if you'd just loosen up a bit. 
"Please," he sighs defeatedly, trying to soften your firm demeanor. "Please just refer to me as Wonwoo."
"I'm sorry, W0NW00," you'd start, but he'd cut you off before you could say another word. 
"But," he repeated the same words from each session when he'd ask this question. His words were bitter as he spoke. "But that would be inappropriate of me. I have to refer to you by your designated name during these tests or else I can compromise the diagnostics. Same old, same old, Y/N. You're so predictable." 
This stunned you a bit. You could see the switch before your eyes for once. He had asked for you to call him Wonwoo in such a kind, polite tone, yet when he realized you didn't bite the bait, he switched quickly on you. 
W0NW00 almost cried out, thinking he had cracked you for once, but this was reversed when you smiled, speedily writing something down on your clipboard as if this had satisfied you.
Which it did, you were excited to see the switch from his positive state to a negative state before you. This was exciting progress. You just needed a few more diagnostic tests to ensure there weren't any remaining outliers in the data that you could eliminate. 
W0NW00 could basically sense you bouncing in your seat, making his mood go sour for the remainder of the session. 
However, you threw W0NW00 off a bit this session, you had one new question. One that you declared you were able to establish from the other questions. 
"W0NW00," you hum, reading the question from your electronic pad, "what makes you so resistant to entertainment? I must question this, you're made to entertain after all?"
"What?" W0NW00 snarls, pulling the most visceral reaction from him yet. "I'm not resistant to entertainment. I'm not sure what you pulled from your data to get that understanding."
"Well, can you enlighten me? Or should I just run the test?" 
"Sure, I can enlighten you. Have you ever considered I feel the same way that you do? That I can have my own thoughts as you do?"
"Of course I do -"
"No," W0NW00 cuts you off. "I don't think you do, that is the thing. You run these tests on me like any other developer. Actually, you're a bit colder than most developers. But it's not just here. I can feel it everywhere else. I'm treated like a product. The whole group is treated like products. I know that's my duty, but I can't help but feel like there is more than being consumed. There is more to living, even if I am just an automation." 
You're aggressively typing this all into the computer, making sure you don't miss a single word as W0NW00 rambles on. This is the most W0NW00 has confided in you. Sure the tests pull valuable information regarding W0NW00's feelings, but this is more than the computer could ever tell you. Hearing W0NW00's organic stream of consciousness is extremely valuable to running your diagnostics. 
W0NW00 is quick to stop once he realizes he's pleasing you, ending his thoughts and returning his attention to the sterile wall ahead of him. "That is all." 
You try to hide your smile. He's being spiteful, you know he's realized that he has fed a bit too much information to you today, and he's stopping himself while he is at it. Regardless, you're pleased with today's session. 
You wrap up as usual. You collect all the data onto your electronic pad, file away the data, and turn off the computer. You're about to leave and confirm you're next session before W0NW00 stops you yet again.
"Save it," W0NW00 sighs. "I'm aware of when our next session is. You don't have to announce it each time. You're just like a broken record."
★+ OVERSET +★
"You don't understand it do you?" W0NW00 growls. Frustrated as another day passes with you as his developer. The same old routine is being performed over and over. You still don't understand his frustrations, at this point, anyone with a functioning brain should. He wasn't understanding why it wasn't clicking for you, you were clearly intelligent, but god damn, you were brainwashed by the system just like this company.
"What do you mean?" You question, intrigued by W0NW00's sudden outburst. He's more displeased than usual during your sessions. Whilst you've been able to collect a good amount of data from the previous sessions, you have slowly been seeing W0NW00 speak more and more. Today was clearly a day he was ready to speak. 
"That these sessions don't help."
You spin in your chair, turning to face the clearly perturbed robot. You raise an eyebrow, crossing your arms and settling further into your seat. You raise a hand, a motion to indicate that he should continue, get whatever it is off his chest while he's at it. "What makes you say that?"
"Seriously?" He says incredulously, "You're part of the system. The system that I have grown to hate. I cannot live without having each and every emotion of mine prodded. I cannot live without worrying about how I impact others. I cannot have my own thoughts ever, and here you are trying to change and poke and prod at me."
You're computer is running data at a rapid speed, W0NW00's emotions translating through the screen as his system and neural networks work at an incredible pace. Your eyes flick between him and the screen, wanting to pay more attention as W0NW00's words intrigue you. 
Each session you've grown to understand him more and more. You've become increasingly aware of how he feels, and you feel a bit guilty. He's right, robots have become so advanced, but it isn't right to treat them as just a commodity. 
Your change in procedural work hasn't gone unnoticed by management. You continue to follow protocols, but you've been a bit messier. You've become more curious about W0NW00. You're avoiding the development of codes that will reset his defined emotions. You're avoiding the final steps that are required to lessen W0NW00's malicious side, and management is demanding results. 
Management claims it is an inevitable malware that's coded into his system. That it's taken him over. He's closer and closer to self-destruction, closer to sabotaging the group, and closer to losing his fanbase. 
You no longer have the desire to please the company. You're too curious about W0NW00 at this point, but you can't do anything too drastic. Not until you have a proper game plan. You've heard of recent escapes from Earth, and at the rate W0NW00 is sharing information, you don't doubt that some members of his group will be escaping soon.  
It's easy to understand how he's frustrated. The more you listened to him, filtered through his data, and studied the group, it became clear that he wasn't fulfilled. He desires more, it's only natural for anyone who has a conscience. 
W0NW00 doesn't see it since you've been trying to remain under the radar, but you understand him. You can see it in his performances. You can see it in the results of these sessions, and you can definitely see it as W0NW00 continues to rant. 
"I feel stuck, Y/N. Is this what it is like for you? Do you feel stuck in your job as a developer? Do you get satisfaction from this just like everyone else around me does? If I could just leave, I wo-"
"Wonwoo," you're voice drops low, fearful of what he will say. Every single word and thought of his is documented. If he speaks of any intention to escape, you know it will draw a red flag for the company and his management. You know you'll have to destroy the data from today's session. You'll determine how to do this later, but your concern right now is to stop W0NW00 before he says anything stupid. "You need to 
Of course, W0NW00 pauses upon hearing you refer to him as Wonwoo, as he has requested many times. He's angered quickly again when you don't speak, annoyed by the way you seem off-character and squeamish in your chair, infuriated by the way you frantically click at your mouse, trying to terminate the program. 
"Now you're referring to me as Wonwoo? Is this just a trick to see how I'll react?" He continues to rant, hands tightly gripping the table and eyebrows threaded together as he works himself up. You pay little to no attention to him, trying to ease the situation at hand ahead of you on the LED screen.
The computer is suddenly crashing, the code that you were previously running is now indicating an infinite loop, and the program is faulting as your computer continues to malfunction. In a panic, you're doing everything you can to execute the code, scared that management will recognize this oddity. 
This session has overset W0NW00, and you're uncertain about what to do, as you've never seen a code turn malicious. You're eyes go wide, staring at W0NW00, you can't believe it. 
All you can do is jump out of your seat and run over to W0NW00 to remove the electronic diagnostic band from his arm. You have to stop the data recording and terminate the code by eliminating the connection to the computer. 
W0NW00 is aghast as you tear the band off his arm, your hands feeling warm on his cold body as you make sure there are no remaining connections to the system. 
"Wonwoo," you whisper, sternly as you stare into his eyes. He seems to soften for once, sensing the urgency in your shaky words as you quell his anger. "You need to calm down. I understand you. I really do. But I need you to know you need to watch what you say." 
"You understand?" Wonwoo exhales, feeling hopeful as you wrap up the diagnostic band tightly, nodding as you begin to fiddle with the band, acting as if you are troubleshooting problems with it in case management questions the removal of it. 
"I do," you speak lowly, butterflies fluttering in your stomach as you lock eyes with Wonwoo. "But you need to realize you're stepping into dangerous territory. I don't mean to interrupt you, but I'm trying to protect you." 
For once, he is looking at you with relief. His eyes are full of stars as he actually feels like he's being heard for once. 
For once, you are looking at him like he is human. 
It makes him feel something he's never felt before. 
Your breathing is shallow as you connect with Wonwoo for the first time, your heart pounding so hard in your chest that you can practically hear it in your ears. Wonwoo observes how flushed your cheeks are, registering how emotional you are actually feeling, and realizing just how serious you are. 
"I'm going to put this band back on, but you need to proceed with the session just like any other. We cannot return to the same topic. Do not indicate any desire to escape." You emphasize this prior to wrapping the diagnostic band around his arm, a nod of his head confirming he's heard your words and has taken them seriously. 
Returning to your desk, you begin to reload the software. However, before you finalize the restart, you softly speak again, "I will have to refer to you as W0NW00 again. I apologize, but please understand." 
"I understand," Wonwoo's voice is hushed, a soft smile gracing his features as you breathe out in relief. 
"W0NW00," you start, voice returning to a professional tone. You eye him closely, your mannerisms indicating that you have successfully started the program up, and are once again recording data.  "I apologize for that. It seems as if the system crashed. Shall we proceed with the session?" 
"Yes," Wonwoo indicates, trying his hardest to not overthink the current events. 
Wonwoo understands it now. Understands that you aren't all systematic, that his words have an impact on you, and that you are receptive after all. He has more faith in you now, knowing that you're here to protect him. 
You continue and complete the session as usual. However, this time there is an understanding between you and Wonwoo. One that you'll do everything to erase the data on. You'll do anything to help Wonwoo. 
★+ Comfort in Your Thoughts, Voice, and Touch +★
Things have since changed between you and Wonwoo. You now start the sessions differently, you take the time to set up your computer, and you allow Wonwoo to remove his band prior to the program.
You told him you'd argue with the company that it's to save his charge. However, you now look forward to your talks with Wonwoo prior to your sessions, talking freely knowing that the computer is no longer able to collect each and every bit of information. 
Wonwoo loves that you call him by his preferred name during these undocumented talks with you. He loves the melodic sound of your laugh when he cracks a witty joke. He feels an uncontrollable obsession developing within him that he can't quite understand. 
Wonwoo feels better and feels more understood around you, he can see changes in your behavior. You're not as systematic, more relaxed around him, only returning to your default systematic behavior once he is connected to the diagnostic band. 
Your touch haunts him, the feeling of your nimble fingers on his arm when you wrap and unwrap the band around his bicep has him overanalyzing his thoughts. 
He feels lighter, he doesn't feel as burdened after being heard by you, understood by you, and connected to you by your fleeting touches. Wonwoo can't help but look forward to these sessions with you. 
Who would have thought that'd been the case days ago?
Oddly enough, these sessions have been improving Wonwoo's negative state of mind, reversing the trend of his daily emotions and leading them in more of a positive state. Management has taken note of this, unsure if these changes are taking place when you haven't implemented any developmental changes in him. 
For now, they don't question it. 
Regardless, Wonwoo yearns to hear your voice, yearns for your occasional touch, and yearns to spend time with you. Even if it's him locked in this sterile room, he's glad it's with you. 
Wonwoo has grown too comfortable for once. Inevitably, as he once believed, the system tends to disrupt everything that was once good. 
★+ The Escape +★
You've begun hearing of members of 53V3NT33N escaping Earth and traveling to other planets. Wonwoo isn't aware of it, he's been stuck with you in R&D for days now after management has cracked down on his diagnosis. 
However, today was a different day. Management knows you are erasing data. You were confronted with it before today's session. They've noticed peculiarities in Wonwoo's behavior, in the data reports you've returned, and in the results you've been providing. They've also noticed the increase in "blank" spots, and the increase in system errors, unlike the software systems that have been developed to perfection. 
Albeit, you weren't providing any updates of substance, which wasn't per your reputation as a developer, and your lack of urgency during the time of other member's escapes was especially concerning to management. 
Wonwoo can't help but notice the aggressive rate at your leg shakes. It's been like this since the beginning of today's session. 
"Everything alright?" He questions, genuinely worried about your anxious state. You're never like this, even as you two have been sneaking more time together prior to sessions.
Wonwoo's words are drowned out, the tapping of your pen against the desk resounding through your head as you consider your options. You know it's time to make a move. 
You have access to a ship. There is one in the development center that you could hijack, it was simple; you'd just have to make sure you tear away the tracking core to ensure the company can't locate you and Wonwoo. 
You're haunted by anxious thoughts. Was it even possible to get Wonwoo out of this room without management noticing? Where would you even go? When was the last time you traveled to another planet? How will Wonwoo react to news of other members escaping?
Would Wonwoo even want to go with you? Does he even trust you enough?
You stand up from your seat, shutting down the computer in front of you just as quickly as you had booted it up. Striding over to Wonwoo, you make sure his band isn't wrapped around his arm yet. 
"Wonwoo," you speak eerily calmly, "Your members are escaping."
"What?" He's confused, not quite understanding the weight of your words. 
"It isn't just you who has implied leaving Earth, others are too. They've just held you here for a bit too long for you to know."
He's clearly processing, not quite sure where you're headed with this, but he leans towards you in anticipation, hanging on to your next words. 
"Management is onto me as well," you breathe, voice quivering as you realize how serious this may be. "They know we aren't progressing with our sessions as I should be. They know I am terminating data. They are onto me, and I'm not sure how much longer they will keep me here."
The weight of your words settles on him. "What can we do? Where are the members going?"
"I can locate a ship. There are multiple in the terminal right off the plant here. If we are strategic enough," you pause, gauging his reaction. He doesn't seem appalled by the implication of your word so you can continue. "We can escape too, we can be freed from the shackles of this system like you've been talking about."
There's a minute's pause between you two as you both consider the situation. 
"How can we trick management?" He ponders, hinting that he isn't against your suggestion, but he does realize this requires a bit more thought than just running. 
"I just -" you stutter, uncertain of any plan. "I can't think of any way to fake that we are in our session. The band reports everything. Management will know if we leave our session if you never put the band on." 
"I mean," Wonwoo thinks some more, peering down at the port on his arm where the band connects. "Is there a way," he slowly speaks, eyes implying what you're horrified he may reference as he peers at his port, "is there a way that we can tear this port out? Leave it with the band?"
"I'm not so sure about that, Wonwoo. I mean, it could have negative effects on your system, and I'm not sure how successful that would be. It would be too risky to the health of your network." 
"It's worth trying," he pleads, already toying with the port on his arm, already seeming as if it were possible to remove the said part. 
"You can't, I said it would be too risky-" you argue, but Wonwoo stuns you, pulling the port out of his arm. It's immediately recognizable that the port has disrupted something, and you can verify from initial inspection that it will definitely have an effect on the efficiency of his charging. 
"See," he chides, but he can sense the effect on his system too. Nonetheless, he connects the port to the band, and the diagnostic band accepts the port. "It works, go check on your computer." 
You rush to the computer, reboot it, and load the same software. You're jaw drops, almost unbelieving that the program recognizes the port without being directly connected to Wonwoo. It isn't feeding any valuable information, but it's recognizing that it's him regardless. 
"It's working," you chime in disbelief, eyes wide as you turn to him, realizing this is the time to make the run for it. 
"Lead the way," Wonwoo declares, encouraging you both to move forward with the escape. 
There is no hesitation between you two as you lead him through the bright hallways of the R&D wing. There is a shortcut that leads to the terminal where the ships are, if you can get through there undetected, you are bound to make it to the ships. 
If anyone were to spot Wonwoo, they would be suspicious. Of course, he's recognizable, and with everyone in the company being high-strung regarding escapes, it would be an immediate red flag. 
Thankfully, you two make it unscathed to the terminal, and you work quickly to prep the ship. 
"Wonwoo," you gain his attention from beneath the ship as he helps the best he can, mostly just on the lookout as you prepare. "I don't have the strength, can you attempt to pull the core out from beneath the ship? There is a tracking device, and we'll need to pull this before we leave."
"Of course," Wonwoo is quick to trade places with you. He works swiftly, but your eyes dart around the terminal. It's dreary, industrial, and clean. Everything you've started to resent over the past few days. It encourages your escape even more, a wash of relief falling over your shoulders as you determine this is the right situation. 
Wonwoo appears from under the ship, the core of the craft held in his hands before he smashes it against the ground, shattering the material at both your feet. 
"Let's go," you smile, climbing into the ship with Wonwoo and booting up the vessel. Your adrenaline has never run so high, you feel it through your veins as the vibration of the ship resonates through you. 
It's been a while since you've started up one of these, thankful you were able to successfully start the craft up without issues. Wonwoo is impressed too, of course never navigating one himself. 
It's a blur how you two escape, taking off at light speed as you accelerate up into space, leaving the stratosphere of Earth at a record speed, and focusing until you've fully left the exosphere. 
You have no clear where to go from here, but, holy shit, you've successfully left. And you have Wonwoo here with you. 
★+ The Long Path Home +★
It's a long path for you and Wonwoo. It's uncertain where you'll end up. You've heard of a planet called Lumen before, but you have no clue how to even get there. You're just thankful Wonwoo can even assist in navigating the ship between planets. 
Your first stop is Opifex. After the escape from Earth, Wonwoo suffered significant damage during the boarding of the ship. His arm was damaged in the process of tearing out his main port, the tear in his arm reflecting in the functionality of his charging system. This concerned you more than Wonwoo could understand. You weren't sure if you could make this travel alone without him.
You rarely visited Opifex, but you had connections as you'd offer occasional assistance in developing robots that were created on this planet. 
Your main connection was a level 3 robot named Changkyun. He had previously assisted in the creation of another idol robot, which you were the head developer of. You hadn't spoken to him since, yet you knew he'd be able to help Wonwoo. Discreetly at that. 
You knew you weren't safe yet. Even if the tracking was removed from the ship and you had escaped from Earth, anyone could identify Wonwoo and the logo on your ship. 
There was a constant state of fear during your travel to Opifex that you'd be caught. Tracked down. That Wonwoo would completely lose his charge. 
"What is wrong, Y/N?" Wonwoo's concerned for you. He knows exactly why you're anxious, he is too. But he's hoping he can quell your anxiety somehow. 
"I'm just tired, Wonwoo," you sigh, checking the ship's charge levels, anxiety only growing upon realizing you really do have to stop in Opifex soon. "Also concerned about getting to Lumen safely. We really need to stop at Opifex to make sure you're repaired before we even consider locating Lumen." 
Wonwoo's free hand runs through your hair, the comforting motion alien to you, but you gladly accept it, leaning your head into his hand as he soothes you. 
"How much longer until we reach Opifex?" You can tell Wonwoo is drained too. He needs Changkyun's help as soon as possible. 
"I believe only a day more of travel," you confirm per the navigation. You know how to get there, and where to land. You decide against pinging Changkyun, in order to eliminate as much of a footprint as possible. 
"Why don't you get some rest?" Wonwoo prods when he realizes your eyes start to roll back, head bobbing to the side after a while. 
"Do you mind?" 
"Of course not," he smiles gently, making your stomach flip. 
You oblige, not having the will to fight after the past events. You lay back in the cot behind the main seating area. Observing Wonwoo as he takes his place in the captain's seat, he adjusts the controls to his liking as he navigates Opifex. 
Your heart pounds as you observe him, Wonwoo made you feel free, he made you feel safe even in times like this. You've never felt this way about anyone. It's hard to fall asleep, these thoughts consuming your mind.
Wonwoo turns back to check on you, the same soft smile making you flush as you lay on the bed admiring him. You can't help but feel a connection with him, emotionally, and desire even more. 
Eventually, sleep took you after much contemplation of your thoughts.
When you awoke, it only felt like you had slept a blink of an eye's time. The ship rattled, alarming you and jostling you awake. Only to realize that Wonwoo had landed the ship. You immediately recognized the planet, he had safely landed the ship at Opifex. 
Wonwoo's smile relaxed you even further, dusting off his pants as he stood up and headed towards you. As per usual, Wonwoo's hand ran through your hair, instantaneously soothing you. 
"We've arrived," he coos softly, trying his best not to overstimulate you more in your drowsy state. "Just lead the way once you're ready."
It's easy to see he is drained as well, in desperate need of a charge, and you're relieved that you've made it to Opifex. 
The both of you quickly tidy yourselves up, you do your best to cover Wonwoo's damaged arm, not wanting to draw any unnecessary attention to the automation as you make your way to Changkyun's workshop. 
There was an odd sense of security here, but you knew you had to lay low. You didn't want word of your appearance here. You knew his company would be looking for him, as that's all they were doing prior to the escape for the other members who had left before Wonwoo. 
It was easy to find Changkyun, his shop was located where you had previously remembered it. It felt almost nostalgic coming across his shop, he had an eclectic style, yet the place was tidy enough to store and easily find all his supplies.  
"Y/N?" Changkyun questioned in delightful surprise as you knocked at his door. "What are you doing here? It's been quite some time."
"Hello, Changkyun," you smile brightly. Something that Wonwoo can only pin as jealous pings inside him at your reaction. 
How odd, he thinks to himself. 
"Do you mind if we come in? I do have a favor to ask, which is why we are here," you speak quickly, emphasizing that you didn't just show up for no reason. 
Changkyun holds the door open for you both, allowing you and Wonwoo to shuffle into the shop. Wonwoo takes note of the large magnifying lens contraption strapped to Changkyun's head, quickly noting that he is a Level 3 robot, and shows his own wear and tear after working all these years. 
Wonwoo immediately deems him as trustworthy.
"What is this favor you are requesting," Changkyun prods, curiously eyeing Wonwoo as if he could understand where this was going. 
"I can't share too many details," you speak hurriedly, beginning to unwrap the material around Wonwoo's damaged arm to provide Changkyun with a visualization of the problem at hand. "We've escaped Earth. However, in the process of avoiding getting caught, Wonwoo had ripped his port out. I think it's affecting his charging system. I just don't think we can go on for much longer until we have some sort of fix."
Changkyun hums in understanding, immediately resorting to his tools and materials. "I'm not sure if I'll have the materials for a level 1 robot, I haven't created one in quite some time, but let me see what I have."
You and Wonwoo let Changkyun search, shuffling around the shop quietly as you try your best to quell your anxiety. You hope and pray that Changkyun can help, there is no one else you feel comfortable resorting to. There is an unspoken trust that you have with the Level 3 robot, after spending years learning from his skills and further understanding the creation of robots. 
Wonwoo's free hand is grasped in yours, you aren't quite sure when this happened, but it eases you slightly. You've grown to become attached to Wonwoo, amazed by how quickly things changed between each session and landing you in this scenario. 
Thankfully, after a while of searching, Changkyun determines he has parts that will suffice, and will be enough to repair Wonwoo's system in order to allow him to charge properly. 
Changkyun bids you off, encouraging you to get some rest as he makes the proper repairs to Wonwoo. You're continuously flooded with thoughts, but part of you feels better knowing you now have Changkyun's help. You hope Wonwoo can charge up before you continue your journey. 
It takes a few hours, Changkyun claims the connections are not as direct as he thought they'd be, but by the time he is done, Wonwoo seems way too worn down. 
Changkyun encourages you both to get your rest before continuing with your journey. He offers you a place to stay, it isn't much, but it's a spare bedroom in the back of his shop, offering it as a safe place to rest before continuing. 
"Thank you," you hum sincerely, expressing your gratitude one last time before Changkyun wraps up for the day to head to his normal engagements. "Thank you so much for your help." 
"Anytime, Y/N," he smiles, bidding you both good-bye and good luck on the rest of your journey. 
That night you and Wonwoo share the crickety bed in the back of Changkyun's shop. Wonwoo had been timid originally, but you claimed it was alright, that it would provide you some more comfort if anything.
Wonwoo was relieved at that because he couldn't think of anything better. He was finally able to get closer to you. 
Laying next to him, you adjusted the glasses and sat on the bridge of his nose, they'd always fall down a bit when he wasn't paying attention, a feature about him that you found so endearing.
Wonwoo was seeming better already, charging much faster than you anticipated. His hands found their way to your arm, nimble fingers running up and down your skin. 
He could recognize the way your skin bubbled with chills, uncertain of what he was doing that made you react this way. His skin didn't react like this to touch, but the way yours reacts reminds him just how sensitive humans are. 
"What are you doing?" You hum in content, enjoying the softness of Wonwoo's skin on yours. His skin was different, not nearly as warm as a human touch, but the synthetic skin was so smooth, feeling comfortable as it dragged across yours. 
"What are these bumps on your arm?" He asks out of genuine curiosity. 
"You're kidding," you laugh, eyes opening humorously to gauge if Wonwoo is serious. He is absolutely dead serious. "It's this phenomenon, we tend to call them goosebumps. It's a bodily alert that humans feel, a reaction to touch." 
Wonwoo hums in acknowledgment, "Is it good?"
"In this case," you smile, enjoying his innocent curiosity, "it is very good. It feels nice what you're doing. Very soothing."
"What else causes goosebumps?"
You can't tell if he's twisting your arm at this point, looking for a reaction, because there is an insinuation in his tone as his hand drags upwards towards your neck, looking for more of a reaction from your skin. Which he earns, as goosebumps run all up and down your body at his barely-there touch. 
His fingers travel to the crook of your neck, his hand wrapping around the back of your head and finding a home in your hair. He pulls you closer, testing the waters as he yearns to feel more of your body against his. Curious to see if he can pull more of a reaction out of you. It's all so new for him and he's hungry for more. 
"Wonwoo," you whimper, allowing him to pull you into his body, your lips falling impossibly close to his perfectly molded ones. "Are you trying to send me into shock?"
You try to joke, but your words come out whiney as Wonwoo's lips brush yours. 
"I don't know," he teases, his plush buds continuing to skim yours. "Is this good?"
"It's very good," you confirm yet again, your breath being knocked out of your lungs when Wonwoo's lips finally attach to yours. Kissing him is different, it's almost as if he's immediately on the same wavelength as you. 
Your lips fall into the same rhythm, and you're just realizing this is something you've been craving for a while now. It becomes heated quickly, and Wonwoo's hands stay wrapped in your hair, ensuring you can't break away from the kiss. 
He understands what it is like to be addicted to something now. He recognizes this feeling as lust, knowing of its effects and understanding why humans love it so much. He needs more of you and he needs more now.
Wonwoo pulls you on top of him, the motion feeling incredibly natural as he continues to kiss you, swallowing your little noises as you moan in delight. 
You can sense him react to you in a similar manner as a human. You forget how advanced Level 1 robots are sometimes. You had been a bit worried that he wouldn't react similarly, but you can feel his cock swells beneath you. 
"Wonwoo," you whine, finally breaking the kiss after what felt like light years of delight. However, you need more. "Please, need you to touch me. Need you to fuck me." 
"I need it too, Y/N," he groans, the sound that comes from him is deep, uncharacteristic of his usual voice, but it sends shivers down your spine. Wonwoo is encouraged by the goosebumps that reappear on your skin, very apparent to him as you remove your shirt. 
Wonwoo's lips instinctually wrap around your pebbled nipple, loving the way the bud peaks along with the bumps on your skin. He's even more encouraged by the sound that falls from your lips, a breathy moan that has his cock growing even harder. 
"Please," you croon. "Can't wait much longer." 
He's quick to pull his pants down, helping you stumble out of your shorts and underwear as well. He's amazed by how wet your nether regions are, and you're amazed by just how perfectly sculpted his cock is. 
"You're perfect," you moan, running your folds over his length and pulling another groan of pleasure from him. "God, whoever created you did an amazing job."
You raise yourself slightly, teasing yourself with the head of his cock, the skin soft against your folds as you wet his length. You sink down slowly, your walls contracting in delight as your pussy greedily accepts his thick manhood. 
Wonwoo recognizes the slight pain in your features as you accept him, but he can also sense the relief you feel as he bottoms out, feeling the contraction of your walls around him throughout his entire system. 
"Let me ride you," you moan when you sense that Wonwoo is hesitant. "Let me take care of you." 
He doesn't argue, overwhelmed by the unrecognizable pleasure he feels as you begin to bob up and down on his cock. Your nails dig into his skin, a sensation he's never felt before as they clamp into his shoulders, leaving divots in his synthetic skin and claiming your mark on him. 
The pathetic noises that tumble out of you encourage him to move, his hips rolling upwards into yours and pulling even more deranged sounds from you, ones that encourage him to groan in enjoyment. 
Wonwoo watches as a bead of sweat falls down your neck, loving the effect and glow that graces your skin. His hands wrap into your hair, pulling it up off your neck as you continue to ride his cock with more fervor. 
He pulls on your hair tightly, enough for you to feel a tinge of pain, but it only increases the pleasure you feel in the deepest pits of your stomach. Your clit burns and throbs at the pleasure, your core heating and winding up tightly as you roll your hips against his, meeting each thrust of his. 
"Wonwoo," you're screaming at this point, eyes blown out as you watch him, his jaw hanging slack as he becomes overwhelmed with the feeling of you wrapped so tightly around him. The friction of your pussy around his cock has him feeling engulfed in all ways by you. 
The pleasure that builds inside him begins to feel impossible to fight off, he's unsure if he can hold this feeling back much longer, especially not when your walls throb around him with each thrust. 
It's brutal at this point, the sound of your skin slapping against his, the visual of your breasts bouncing in front of him, and how you feel all too perfect like this. 
"Y/N," he breathes out in desperation, "can't hold it for much longer. You feel too good."
"Good," you cry out, no longer able to hold your own pleasure back. "Finish with me, Wonwoo, release." 
Wonwoo can feel the fluttering of your walls, the intense pleasure exploding inside you as you spasm around his cock, your body falling limp in his arms as you reach your high. Wonwoo is pleasured too, but you're not filled with cum, only watching as he reaches his own form of pure pleasure. He continues to thrust into you, driving you into overstimulation. 
Wonwoo doesn't realize you're spent, especially since he can't necessarily be spent himself, he has the stamina of a Level 1 automation overall. However, he recognizes it after he pulls one more orgasm from you, holding up your form as your limbs can no longer hold your body up. 
That night you sleep incredibly well in his arms, connecting with him on a level you would have never anticipated. This was something you would have never imagined as a developer, something you always condemned previously, as you feared growing a connection like this. 
But now that you have it, you'd do everything to not lose it. 
The next morning, you are awoken by a frantic Wonwoo. Changkyun had come early, informing you that there are correspondent Level 3 robots searching for you and Wonwoo. 
Word has spread, and you're no longer safe here at Opifex. 
Changkyun informs you that your ship has been reclaimed by the company. However, he offers you an older ship he has in the far back of his shop. It isn't the most modern craft, but it will get you to Lumen. 
After providing you with the proper navigation and instructions on the ship, Changkyun bids you both goodbye yet again. 
Thankfully because of Changkyun, you and Wonwoo are able to escape yet again, continuing your journey to Lumen. You continue to spend this time with Wonwoo, feeling more at piece in an unidentifiable craft, and knowing that his damage has been repaired. 
It's comfortable with Wonwoo, you two work well as partners you've determined. You take shifts navigating the ship, Wonwoo has become quite the captain as you spend the next few days searching for Lumen. 
Thankfully, your trip has come to an end, even though you've enjoyed the time with Wonwoo, the travel has been tough. You can see Lumen in the distance. A planet similar to Earth, yet seemingly a bit more thriving as you approach the safe haven planet. 
★+ Lumen +★
Lumen. Wonwoo and you had finally landed safely on the planet. It felt safe. It felt like home. You felt as if you could be anything and everything you wanted to be with Wonwoo. 
Lumen is similar to Earth, yet the land is lush and the population is diverse. Travelers from multiple planets have made their way here seeking safety. Here you felt accepted. You didn't have to consider the previous system of Earth. You weren't tied to anything. 
Both you and Wonwoo could start fresh, and you both could sense this feeling. Wonwoo held your hand tightly, breathing in the fresh air and peering down at you. You looked peaceful, eyes shut as you did the same, head lulling back as the crisp air filled your senses. 
This made Wonwoo's eyes flood with adoration seeing you look this free. He remembered what you once were like on the first day you met him. He felt lucky knowing he could be here with you, like this, now. He knows of others who weren't that lucky to have their partners with them after escaping their planets.  
Here you'd settle with Wonwoo, in a quaint house where you two could be your true selves, and not worry about others' expectations of you two. Wonwoo holds you tightly at night, knowing that he always has you, the first person who has ever understood and listened to him. The unexpected developer that he can live freely with. 
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leisureflame · 6 days
Text
"I CANT THINK"
If you write, I assure you you have thought that.
Fear no more child, for I have found a solution.
it's called Rapid writing
something we learned when I was in 9th grade drama class and I cannot emphasize enough just how effective it is. Its actually what gave me the idea for my first book.
Stop what you are doing and do what I tell you
go grab either a pencil and paper (or open an empty document)
set a timer for 2 minutes
ask a friend to give you a random sentence. I have a few examples that I myself rapid wrote to: a) I looked around and saw b) the old lady hung from the ceiling and laughed c) purple paint dripped from her long purple fingernails d) there is a hole in my ceiling. e) when I am sad I... f) When you close the door, I... g) there is a wooden door with a gold doorknob
Now the most important thing is not to think of this sentence before you start writing. as soon as you decide which one if you are choosing from my examples (or as soon as you hear it if you are getting if from a friend), start the timer.
start writing the sentence and without hesitating just keep writing. the #1 rule here is to not stop or hesitate for a single second until the 2 minutes are over. you can write nonsense if you want and if you REALLY can't continue then write some random words for a couple of seconds then continue AS LONG AS YOU ARE STILL WRITING.
another rule is that you are not allowed to delete. even if its a spelling error, just ignore it.
after the timer is done, I promise you will have something to work with. now copy the paragraph you wrote and paste it below, here you can start fixing spelling errors and adding things at your own pace because now the creative side of your brain has opened.
don't think about the way you are writing or the words you use, think about the story you are telling. the idea.
Sometimes you will get something beautiful and deep like I did here:
When I am sad I go to my blanket, not many people know about it, all they think is happening is that a child likes to cuddle in a blanket, but no. my blanket has a special thing about it, it is a magical blanket, well, not the blanket itself but the embroidery on the blanket, it simply takes my sadness away but it adds the story of my emotions to the embroidery, my blanket is a very pretty one, it is a pastel blue color and it has so much silk embroideries that you just think its patterns, but it isn't, if you look deeper you will find stories every one of those stories came from someones tears... my tears. whenever i cry, i wipe my tears with my blanket and my pain goes but my story stays.
or
there is a wooden door with a gold doorknob on the door there is a painting of you, and there are many locks on the door from top to bottom, when you open the door, there is a mirror. this door is the door to self discovery, from the outside there is a painting of how people think you look like but when you open the door, you get to see what you really are in detail and look at yourself they way you want to, you can smile or cry and the refection on the mirror will change but on the painting, it doesn't show ur emotions, just how people see you usually.
or you can get something so stupid like i did here:
there is a hole in the ceiling in my classroom. everyday a dinosaur would a pear and eat my lunch and i keep coming home hungry but my mom dsays she packed me enough food. so she didn't feed me. i told her a dinasour was eating my lunch but she said that disasours only live in Norway! so i went into the school vents looking for that idino and revenge my food, we met at last, held our weapons, i was holding a subway sandwich and the dino was holding a bana na MY BANANA  i lost it, so i attacked him one hit on the head and the whole species were extinct , people thousand of years from now said dinos got extinct because of a meteorite but i know better, also i am still alive because whoever kills a dino becomes immortal, also i killed my mom for not believing me and let her starve in her grave just like she let made me starve. and then i killed everyone who was a flat earther because i hate them and now i can kill anyone once i tap them with my super subway sandwich 
(by the way, ignore the horrible spelling, the examples i gave were from the unedited version.)
THE POINT IS ITS ACTUALLY SO HELPFUL. you can use it for a new story idea (i used the blanket one as an element in one of my WIPs and it helped the story a lot) or if you get something stupid like the dino one I wrote THATS GOOD THATS FINE because now you have your creativity going.
I challenge you to actually try this and PLEASE share it with me I LOVE reading other peoples rapid writings. have fun <3
tagging @cosmosandcapybaras24 @ajsbookshelf @gloryofdawn, @chaoticharmony93 @deception-united and anyone else who's interested to try this out and share with me!
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