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hadesrise · 1 year

Text

meet the addams.

previous part.

summary ➳ the bat family meets the addams family

pairings ➳ jason todd x addams!male reader

warnings ➳ fluff, strong language, pet names, hesitant bruce, weapons, typical addams family behavior ( homicide, dark humor, weird, etc ), jason and reader being a simp for each other, the addams being wholesome as always, implied reader’s atheism (i think the entire addams are atheist tbh), mention of torture

author’s note ➳ wow, hades updated !! shocking, i know. i'm sorry for the long hiatus and inactive, i wasn't okay and it was difficult for me to write when my mind was in such a messed up state. mental health can be a bitch, you know :D i'm trying to recover, and went back on writing again. hope this was a good comeback.

Letting his family meet you hadn’t crossed Jason’s mind at all until that very day when his annoying older brother caught him by the ice cream truck buying a dark chocolate and a mint chocolate flavored ice cream.

Dick was on officer duty patrol in undercover civilian clothes that afternoon, walking around the streets of Gotham in hopes of catching some shady business going around the city or just someone doing a simple act that goes against the law, being a good police officer that he is. Though, instead of seeing criminals like he assumed he would, his most rebellious little brother dressed in bad boy-ish clothes as usual buying ice creams caught his eyes.

He was supposed to walk right past since there really is no reason to approach Jason, but seeing him sit down next to a mysterious, old fashioned, well-dressed, expensive looking guy in all black with sunglasses resting on the bridge of his nose and give the dark chocolate flavored ice cream to? Now, Dick certainly can’t walk past without knowing about you because he’s a little shit who just can’t help but stuck his nose into his brother’s business. That and, well, he also found you really cool. There’s not a thing in this world that can stop Dick Grayson from wanting to befriend someone who seems cooler than the Dark Knight himself.

So, in all his glory, Dick approached Jason with his usual charming smile dancing across his lips.

“Oh, god...” Jason groaned in annoyance as soon as he spotted the grinning male, rolling his eyes. Peace seems to never be an option whenever he takes you around the city for simple walks.

“Jason, are you uttering your all father’s name religiously or simply as an expression as of the moment?” Your elegant yet soothing, deep voice speaks out a sentence composed of well thought words and syllables, innocent curiosity behind the gentle tone.

Dick takes a mental note that your way of speaking sounded similar to the way humanity used to speak centuries ago, when everything was still old-fashioned and technologies hardly ever existed. It made him feel like you came from the past, as if he was witnessing the existence of a time traveler. Stopping in front of you two, he gives you a charming grin as soon as your eyes catches his. A hint of curiosity and wonder flashed within them behind the dark shades of your sunglasses before they were gone in an instant, replaced by a questioning look instead.

“May I help you?” You simply asked, but Dick doesn’t fail to notice the sudden drop in your previously soft tone and the piercing, calculated gaze holding wariness as well as subtle suspicion.

“Sorry, I’m Dick Grayson. I was curious about the person Jay’s hanging out with, I couldn’t help myself but approach.” He elaborates himself while trying his best to ensure he wasn’t a threat through body language, relaxing his figure. “I’m sorry if I freaked you out a little.”

Recognition flashed in your face, brows raising only barely to show subtle surprise, “Jason’s older brother. The name’s (Y/n) Addams. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” You smiled, and even something just as simple as that looked graceful in Dick’s eyes.

Somewhat unsurprisingly, you were enchanting to look at as everything you do or say was captivating. How Jason managed to pull you was beyond him.

“Nice to meet you too,” He says back with a soft smile.

Even though his little brother hasn’t introduced you yet to their family, at least you seemed to know about them. Hopefully, nothing unpleasant has been said, but Dick doubts Jason would hide his trauma from you, considering how he was leaning to your side now subconsciously, as if being away from you will bring back awful memories.

He was worried about his practically traumatized-for-life little brother living alone, but it appears he didn’t have to worry at all.

“What are you doing here, Dick?” Jason more of grumbled, annoyed that your date has been interrupted. Almost automatically, one of your hands move to settle itself on his thigh to give it a gentle and soothing rub to ease his growing annoyance, while the other held your dark chocolate ice cream that you had begun eating with clean manners. He relaxed in an instant after feeling your touch.

“I think you should introduce (Y/n) to our family, Jay.” Dick suggests with enthusiasm that didn’t match Jason’s, not really answering his question. “They would want to know who you’re going out with. We can all have a dinner together!” There was excitement shining in his eyes as he shrugged his shoulders, trying to remain nonchalant despite his body language practically screaming excited.

Your lover groans, “Why the hell do they have to know who I’m going out with?”

Amusement crosses your face as you smirked, licking off the small bits of ice cream that got on your lips. “I wouldn’t be opposed to that. I’m certain my family will be more than happy to meet them.” Jason gives you a look, to which you responded with an innocent smile. “Oh, mon amour. What could go wrong? I have been looking forward to meet your family, but you’ve never considered to bring me there. It’s a little concerning how you seem too hesitant to let them meet me.” You pout, feigning sadness.

Your lover widens his eyes, panic appearing in them as he gripped your hand that was on his thigh after realizing what you were implying. “That’s not what it looks like, babe! I just don’t want you to meet them ‘cause they can be a bit unbearable. Bruce is the worst person you could ever meet,” He scrunched his nose. “It’s not you I don’t want them to meet, it’s them I don’t want you to meet. There’s a difference. You’re never the problem.”

You chuckled at his quick attempt of elaboration.

Jason feels his cheeks redden at how deeply elegant and amazing your laugh sounded; it never fails to make his heart go haywire even after all this time. You manage to effortlessly make him fall in love with you deeper and deeper every day without even meaning to.

“Worry not, darling. I was just teasing you. I’m far from upset.” Reassuring him, your hand gently cups his cheek to rub the skin comfortingly. “Let me meet them once you’ve gotten rid of your doubts completely, my Jason. It isn’t necessary to rush.” You then let go of his face to push some of his hair away from his forehead before leaning back to continue eating the ice cream.

Dick witnessed a starstruck smile spread across Jason’s lips in an instant, the way his expression was so soft when looking at you, how his emerald eyes that usually held pent-up rage towards the world sparks brightly in love and adoration.

Huh. He’s never seen his brother this happy and content.

Maybe you are Jason’s one true love.

“Dick,” Jason calls out after watching you eat your ice cream with a barely hidden happiness. You looked happy to meet one of his family even though you haven’t said anything, and he was willing to throw away his pride if it meant making you happy.

“Hm?” Dick hummed, smiling when Jason glanced at you and looked back at him.

“Tell the others.”

That was all he needed to let out the excitement he was holding in, beaming at you two. “Right away, little bird!” He doesn’t waste a time to pull his phone out of his pocket, “I’m going then. It was nice meeting you, (Y/n). I’ll text you when!” He waved his hand and walked away, already dialling Bruce’s number.

Jason watched him go incredulously. “Did he just come here to convince me to introduce you?”

You chuckle under your breath, “Perhaps. Your brother has sorted out his priorities well.” However, a frown appears on your lips when you turned to Jason. “Do you genuinely feel comfortable letting my family meet them? We could always cancel, mon amour. There are many other fascinating activities we can bother ourselves with.”

Jason felt his heart swell at your gentle tone and concerned eyes, making him feel loved in many different ways. You don’t even realize that you’re slowly healing his troubled heart with simple things like this. He already knows you love him more than the Guillotine itself (which is a really big deal since nothing except him could ever beat your love for it) as you’ve always told him before, but the way you treat him, talk to him, and look at him just adds so much weight on your words. You don’t just tell him you love him — you show it in the most perfect, best, casual ways.

Intertwining his hand with yours, he brought it up to rest on his chest, hiding how overwhelmed he was with the love for you. “Like what, sweetheart?” Faint amusement laced his tone as he already knew the answer.

“Like slicing or shooting criminals, of course.” You winked before bringing your intertwined hands to press a kiss on his knuckles.

Jason laughs, and you admired the way he threw his head back to let the sound escape. “Knew you would say that!” He wheezed, before calming down to kiss your knuckles just like you did to his. “But it’s really fine, (Y/n). I want to introduce you and your family to mine.” His expression then turns apologetic, “ ‘m sorry if it seemed like I was keeping you in the shadows.”

You shake your head and leaned in to capture his lips in a peck, a gesture to let him know you didn’t mind. “If you were keeping me in the shadows, we wouldn’t be having a date out in the open where any of your family can see me. Don’t be apologetic, chéri. I’m nowhere near upset.”

Letting a smile break out, Jason leans in to kiss you more longer this time before pulling away.

Just like that, you both sat on the bench and ate ice creams in comfortable silence, holding each other’s hand.

Dick, Tim, Damian, Barbara, Cassandra and Stephanie all stood in front of the Wayne Manor with barely contained excitement, waiting for the infamous Addams family and Jason to show up.

Dick was mainly looking forward for his family to see the side of Jason no one had ever seen before, Tim was occasionally standing on his tiptoes to see if any car was nearing, and Damian was keeping himself still but his body practically trembled with excitement due to being a fan of your vigilante persona for a long time. Barbara had a smile on her face with a hint of nervousness, while Cassandra and Stephanie talked to each other to calm their nerves.

Even without research, the Addams family was quite the celebrity family in Gotham because of their richness that seemed to tie with Bruce Wayne, but moreover, they were rather infamous for being “weird” and gothic as those experts for minding businesses that aren’t their own paparazzi claimed. The Wayne family didn’t really need to dive into the deepest parts of internet in their computer; one newspaper — with the front cover of five people with gothic outfits standing in front of the big ass almost-castle-house — dedicated entirely to the weird family already helped.

Only thing they needed to research about was you, and surprisingly, it wasn’t hard to find information about your vigilantism — which is how all of them realized not only was Jason dating the person Damian idolizes more than his own father, but also the one who brutally tortured and straight-up dumped Joker into Arkham Asylum. Needless to say, it kinda made sense to them that Jason’s dating you, though Bruce wasn’t pleased.

The gates being opened to a black limousine caught their attention, making Cass and Steph break their conversation to watch the car drive closer before eventually stopping in front of them. A butler, who took them by surprise due to his seemingly inhuman looks similar to the Frankenstein monster, got out to open the door.

A man wearing a black suit with white stripes was the first to come out of the limousine as he smiles cheerfully at them, helping his wife to step out. Cassandra’s jaw dropped at the beautiful woman with black, long and silky hair who gives them an enchanting, almost hypnotizing smile.

Next to step out were a boy wearing black and white striped shirt and a girl who had her hair braided on two sides. The boy gave them an all too adorable friendly smile, but his sister only held a blank face as she observed each of the Wayne members. Finally, Jason got out together with you, all of them noticing your intertwined hands.

Your lover raised his brows, “Why are you all here?”

“Well, Bruce said we didn’t have to, but we wanted to welcome you here.” Dick shrugged, nodding at you. “Good to see you again, (Y/n).”

“Likewise, Dick.” You smile. “Greetings, ladies, gentlemen. The name’s (Y/n). This are my parents Gomez and Morticia,” Your parents greet them with a nod and friendly smile. “And my siblings Wednesday and Pugsley.” Pugsley waves his hand, enthusiastic to meet Jason’s family, while Wednesday crosses her arms above her chest and simply nods without a word.

Dick was grinning at your siblings because of their adorableness, not even the slightest bit bothered by Wednesday’s lack of emotion. Cassandra and Tim were gawking at Gomez and Morticia, how they seem so perfect and gorgeous, not only each on their own but together as well. Stephanie and Barbara beamed at you while Damian observed Wednesday and Pugsley, but there wasn’t any hint of malice or bad intention in his eyes — just curiosity. The Addams family sure are good looking individuals.

“Uh — hi,” Tim was the first to speak out of the Wayne’s, awkwardly waving his hand because of the fact he felt as if the Addams were ethereal beings due to their beauty. “You... You all look beautiful. I’m surprised.”

Wednesday’s brows raised as you tilted your head slightly to the side, looking confused. Morticia and Gomez exchanges a glance from not knowing what to say, while Pugsley smiled nicely at Tim despite the truth of being called beautiful feels like an insult. Yours and your family’s reaction immediately worried the Wayne children; none of you seemed pleased or happy with the compliment Tim gave, in fact, you kind of looked offended.

Seeing his siblings getting worried that they might’ve done something wrong, Jason clears his throat to catch everyone’s attention and successfully did so. “What he means is you all look deadly and loathsome. He wasn’t trying to offend you in any way, he just isn’t used to our ways of compliment.” He elaborated with a genuine look, and his siblings looked taken aback that he seemed really calm and gentle with you and your family. Jason have always had anger issues; his rage was explosive everywhere he goes and the main victims of it were criminals, but sometimes it was directed entirely at Bruce because of their unpleasant history.

He was never known as a calm person even in the family. Always seemed on edge, like a walking bomb that’s ticking every second, unknown by people how to stop it from exploding so suddenly. However, as Jason stands with you holding your hand tightly, his entire demeanor was almost completely different from what his family was used to. He was as calm as a wind that caresses the Mother Nature so softly in fear of disturbing her and as gentle as anyone who holds a little kitten in their hands — there was no ticking time bomb, just a soft man caring and pouring his heart and love out to his awesome lover. Jason looked comfortable around you and your family, extremely to the point that he hadn’t noticed practically calling himself an Addams. It made his siblings’ hearts swell with happiness.

“Oh,” Morticia sighed in relief, and even just that felt and looked so heavenly. “We’re sorry, my dear. We weren’t aware of that. I was afraid you found us tolerable.”

Tim chuckles, not really knowing what to say. He was visibly confused, though from what he was able to pick up on, negative comments seems to be taken as positive ones in your family. While most of them were confused just like Tim, Damian quickly understood how compliments worked within the Addams and smirked fondly.

Dick finally gathers his thoughts to clear his throat, “Well, let’s go in now, shall we?”

As your family nodded in sync, you turn to Jason while fixing your collar with the empty hand. “Love, do I look menacing? I have to look presentable when meeting your father. I despise looking good.” You stated, checking your outfit and trying to fix where you found unpresentable.

It’s rare to see you fidgeting and uneasy, making Jason smile. He knew you lose your composure only when it comes to him and it made him feel so loved, appreciated, and important. “You always look menacing, babe. Could scare off any children that passes by.” He compliments, bringing up your intertwined hands and kissing the back of yours.

The corner of your lips twitched up, squeezing his hand back as amusement and adoration shows themselves on your expression. “That’s very lovely. This is why I loathe you.”

The flirting between you and Jason was so natural that even Damian wasn’t affected by it — he’s mostly disgusted and cringed out when people flirt in front of him, but for some reason, Jason flirting with you didn’t bother him at all. Perhaps, because it isn’t a modern type of flirting where couples show disgusting amount of PDA or say things halfheartedly just to make their partner feel good, but rather, it’s one that uses old-fashioned yet romantic language which truthfully comes from the heart. You and Jason flirt with respect for each other, where neither of you objectify nor sexualize the other.

There was a clear unspoken understanding between you, which was shown in just this little flirtatious moment. The way you show your love for each other might be old-fashioned and out of ordinary in this modern day, but it’s honestly more romantic than any of the modernized ones.

“You two always flirt,” Wednesday spoke as she swiftly turned around to meet yours and Jason’s eyes. “It would’ve been more perfect if you were holding a human heart and giving it to each other.”

Barbara, Cassandra, and Stephanie all widened their eyes at her opinion — is she telling you to kill someone, take their heart out, and give it to each other to show your love? That wouldn’t be a romance anymore; it’ll be a dark romance.

However, you only shrugged your shoulders while Jason chuckled in amusement, as if that comment was as normal as seeing trees and nature everywhere. Neither of you were even concerned with what Wednesday said. “There’s precisely a possibility of that occurring, though it’s not yet now.” You responded calmly, as expressionless as Wednesday but slight amusement littered your tone.

The others tensed at your statement with the exception of Damian, who only smirked in pride, as they all remember the news of Joker getting dumped into Arkham Asylum by a vigilante that isn’t Batman. Like mentioned before, Joker was in a really bad shape when he was quite literally thrown into the Asylum, very visible signs of torture coating his body everywhere.

When Bruce visited, it was worse than how the media portrayed it to be. Tongue cut off, fingers broken and two missing, heavily concussed, several cuts along his face and body, and bruises covering most of his body parts. Worst of it all was that Joker didn’t seem like himself anymore; he does laugh — never had been a time when Joker didn’t laugh — but it wasn’t his typical laughter. All the mockery, self-confidence and cockiness weren’t there. Instead, fear and paranoia filled the laughter Bruce was so used to hearing. It was so uncharacteristic and very unlikely of Joker.

He’s finally put behind bars for good, but how the fuck can a vigilante absolutely destroy the Joker? He was indestructible yet you managed to break him so bad that his insanity got flooded with immense fear rather than the urge to kill everyone and everybody for no reason.

And as they stand in front of you now, none of them can even imagine how such a gentleman like you could’ve broke him completely. You seem so respectful, sweet, gentleman, and lovely that it’s almost impossible to believe you were the one who did it. But everyone should always expect the unexpected, right?

“Dick,” Jason’s voice snaps the oldest boy out of his own thoughts as he nods his head towards the door. “Let’s go in.”

The Grayson only hummed, turning around to open the door and gesture inside with his other hand, bowing a little to show respect. Morticia and Gomez smiled pleasantly and brightly, touched by his manners as they enter. Wednesday followed next with a usual expressionless face, and Pugsley said “thank you” first before entering, then Jason pulled you along with him at last. The door closed behind Damian who was the last to enter.

“Welcome,” Bruce immediately greeted as soon as all of your eyes met his, and your parents doesn’t hesitate to smile respectfully and kindly at him.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Wayne.” Gomez steps forward with his hand extended to shake Bruce’s hand before gesturing to his wife standing beside him. “She’s my wife Morticia and these are my children. Perhaps, you already know about (Y/n)?”

Bruce’s unreadable gaze shift from your father to you, attempting to figure out your characteristics by just looking. However, despite the nervousness you’re feeling, you didn’t fail to compose yourself and appeal confident with the usual emotionless expression on your face. Your gaze sparkling darkly under the light made him feel uneasy somehow, as if you knew all of his dirty little secrets and his entire characteristics as well as personality and attitude without analyzing that much.

Truth be told, you heard Bruce’s attitude from Jason when he opened himself up to you. Your Beloved was extremely traumatized by what happened with Joker that it affected the way he saw the world; it should’ve been that way too with Bruce because he’s Jason’s adoptive father — yet what really happened was the complete opposite.

Bruce may not have had an ill intent of dismissing or ignoring what happened to Jason, but to continue living like Joker didn’t kill his second son made him unlikable on your list. You’re a very respectful person as Gomez and Morticia didn’t raise you to be an awful entity, and you would never want to go against your lover’s adoptive father — although, that does not mean you accept his morals.

Hiding the unsettled feeling building up in his stomach, Bruce attempts to smile at you and shake your hand. “So you’re (Y/n). I’ve only ever heard once about you.”

Only the corner of your lips twitched, a barely formed smile appearing as you shake his hand, eyes still piercing through him like a dagger. “And I’ve heard a lot of... things about you, Mr. Wayne.” The calculative tone in your voice set an alarm within Bruce’s head and he would’ve pulled his hand away from your grasp if it wasn’t for his conscious mind forcing himself to calm down. “Be not afraid — You’ll see no judgement here.” You gave him a pointed look.

Jason quickly goes behind you and wraps an arm around your waist, the soft look on him being noticed by everyone present in the room. “Babe, let’s have dinner first. You’ll absolutely love Alfred’s cooking. They’re hella tasty.” He compliments, winking at Alfred who stood at the side. Alfred smiled with gratitude.

Bruce notices the way a small bit of light shine on your dead-like eyes as soon as you looked at Jason. “Well then, may we?” You shift your soft gaze from Jason to Bruce as you tilt your head slightly to the side.

From then on, the peaceful dinner began with mainly your parents and Bruce sharing thoughts about their own children while the others watch with a smile as Damian starts a conversation with you, the one he idolizes the most. It’s surprising to see Damian being really talkative — for the first time ever, he was being an actual child, asking you questions after questions with his eyes sparkling in joy. Not wanting to ruin this seemingly precious moment for Damian, everyone just decided to listen and chime in only once in a while when they feel like it. You were extremely patient with Damian the entire time he was bombarding you with questions, answering all of them without getting annoyed.

Jason felt relieved to witness the dinner going smoothly.

Truth be told, he was secretly worried about it turning into a disaster due to your vigilantism — Jason knew how Bruce felt about you after realizing you were the unnamed vigilante that nearly killed the Joker, and he thought Bruce would bring it up right away soon as dinner started. Luckily, he didn’t. It made Jason sigh in relief and relax on his seat, smiling as he watched you talk with his siblings.

However, perhaps it was too soon.

“(Y/n), how long have you been a vigilante?”

Jason immediately froze at Bruce’s question. The chit-chatting within the dining hall quickly falls into silence as everyone, too, froze — except the Addams family, who were still eating calmly and quietly, unbothered.

You first swallowed the food you were chewing before wiping your mouth elegantly with a napkin and not even hesitating to meet Bruce’s piercing eyes. “Since I was a child, Mr. Wayne.” You answered simply.

Bruce leans on the table, taking it slow. “Why did you become one?”

You felt Jason squeezing your hand under the table, as if to say you don’t have to answer everything. Though, you still did. “One of our ancestors was a vigilante, although he was hanged alongside his wife’s burning body when a rumour spread that she was a witch. He’s quite the legend within our family, you see.” Dick, Stephanie and Barbara’s jaws dropped. “I could say I was inspired by him. Although the sole purpose of my vigilantism is to bring justice to those who were rejected, neglected, and ignored by our unpleasantly ridiculous, worthless justice system.”

Feeling nervousness radiate off of Jason from how he squeezed your hand even more strongly, you gently hold and knead his hand to give him relaxation. After he stopped squeezing and slightly calmed down, you readjusted his hand so your and his fingers would intertwine with each other. You could feel him staring, but you never avoided eye contact with Bruce.

“To bring justice...” The Billionaire trails off meaningfully, as if it was something he wasn’t expecting to hear from you. “Was that your way of bringing justice?” The sharpness in his tone clearly gave everyone an idea of what he’s talking about.

However, despite the tension thickening and Bruce’s eyes narrowing in judgment, you kept your composure with an expressionless face, nerves surprisingly as calm as water flows. There wasn’t anything you were feeling at the moment, just the patience you need to deal with Jason’s shallow-minded father.

“I’m most definitely certain yours and my understanding of justice varies.” You immediately responded without missing a beat. Bruce’s eyes pierced through you, but your (e/c) eyes were much worse. It was reading him thoroughly, looking into his soul, his mind, feeling as if you knew everything.

“Though, I must admit for everyone’s knowledge, just so no one is left unaware — I tortured Joker not to seek justice for my lover, but to feed my vengeance and urge to revenge.” Your dark eyes glinted in amusement under the lights as the confession slips from your mouth with no restraints, like you’re just talking about nonchalant things. That’s not the only thing that made a cold shiver run down everyone’s spine; it was also the way your supposedly expressionless face completely shifted for the first time only to form a dark, prideful, egotistical look, accompanied by a smirk which obviously stated you weren’t regretful.

Now, there’s no way Bruce would take it lightly.

Sensing the events had turned out more worrisome, Jason tries to tug on your intertwined hands. “(Y/n), sweetheart, we should—”

Your cold gaze avert towards him, and it softened only a bit. “Apologies for interrupting you, my love, but leaving our dinner without finishing them would be disrespect to the person who cooked them for us.” You placed a gentle kiss on the back of Jason’s hand to assure him. “Worry not so much. Your father and I are only getting to know one another.”

As soon as your cold and piercing eyes returned to him, Bruce immediately feels an unsettling feeling in his gut as his heartbeat quickens. He could see it’s easy for you to deal with him or this kind of confrontation — the dangerous thing he noticed about you is that you never lose composure and patience regardless if the situation at hand benefits you or not. The only time you’ve probably ever lost your collectedness was with Joker, whom you actually had every right to get absolutely livid at. You love Jason more than words could ever tell, Bruce can easily see that, but your actions not lining up with his morals made it difficult for him to accept you willingly.

While the Addams simply minded their own business by continuing to eat, the others couldn’t find it in themselves to act like there was no tension rising in the air. They knew this confrontation was coming, but witnessing it unfold before their own eyes isn’t easy. Most of them had to swallow the lump that formed in their throat, with Damian being the only one who isn’t nervous in the slightest.

“Mr. Wayne, I have a deep understanding of your morals and the regulations you’ve set in this home... how none of your family is allowed to kill criminals.” You stated with a smile that was barely visible, though respectful nonetheless. However, it instantly vanishes. “But I must remind you one thing — just because you believe your morals are correct does not make it righteous in any way.”

That certainly struck a core in Bruce.

“We, humans, are incapable of finding the correct morals that all of humanity would agree on. You may believe your morals are absolute and there could be a wonderful soul who has developed the same belief as you, but it would never be everyone.” Your hand gracefully gestures to the people in the dining room to emphasize your point before it comes to rest on the table as you intertwine it with your other hand. “You see, humans are not humans without distinctive differences, and pushing your own standards on others likely causes more harm than it should help put them in control.”

The way you’ve said every word with such grace and elegance was nothing but fascinating as everyone found themselves suddenly voiceless. Your every gesture and movement showed an exquisite manner no other human beings were blessed with, alongside your use of sophisticated language that silently told your high level of intelligence. Other than that, Bruce was speechless from how much your words contained truth and wisdom only a philosopher has. He had never seen nor met someone so wise as you.

Perhaps, that’s why you’re so intimidating — every bit of your intelligence and attitude is your very own power no one else could ever have.

Taking a deep breath, Bruce clears his throat to find his voice and meets your eyes. “Are you implying I should accept how different yours and my morals are?”

“Precisely,” You answered without hesitation, sipping the wine Jason had poured for you when the dinner started. “My morality is concerned with the victims, not the perpetrators nor myself. Your morality is concerned with your inability to control your murderous urges when committed.” Bruce inhales sharply, making your eyes glint since he proved you right.

Gomez and Morticia smile to themselves as they felt proud of how you’re always able to point out things others usually don’t or can’t. Despite your brutal honesty, there is clearly respect within the way you speak to Bruce, which is why neither of them stopped you from defending and proving yourself. Helping you was not in their options; they knew you can handle yourself perfectly fine with the number of times you’ve put people in their place physically or verbally.

“(Y/n), baby... It’s okay,” Jason quietly attempts to stop you, knowing those words were intentionally spoken to strike a nerve in his non-biological father.

He knew how your blood boiled when you found out Bruce didn’t kill the Joker because of his ridiculous morality. He can still remember the way your eyes always darkened at even the slightest mention of Batman or Bruce Wayne. It took two years for you to overcome your wrath on the billionaire before you went after the Joker.

Before you could respond to your lover, Bruce caught your attention again with a simple question — “Why did you do it?”

You look back at him, seeing him staring at you and waiting for an answer. The corner of your lips lifted. “Well, wouldn’t we do anything for love?” Bruce's brows raised at the warm look on your face, not knowing your face was capable of making such expression. “No one hurts my soul and live freely without heavy consequences.” You shrugged, looking heavily smug.

Wednesday scoffed, “You should’ve just put a curse on him. It would have saved you all the trouble and exhaustion.” She looked at you as if what you did was the most incorrect thing in the world.

“No, should’ve electrocuted him!” Said Pugsley with a grin. “It didn’t make me insane when Wednesday did it to me, but it could break his mind.” Everyone’s face shifted into a look of shock at the sudden revelation.

“Now now, children.” Morticia interrupts, “What (Y/n) does to his enemies should be decided by him and him only. You don’t decide for (Y/n).”

“Well, Joker hurt Jason and he’s our brother. Nobody hurts my brothers and lives.” Wednesday responded immediately with empty eyes seeking vengeance, stabbing the steak with a fork and making Dick, Tim and Stephanie flinch.

You threw a knife at her with a single flick of your wrist, just narrowly missing her face, stabbing the wall behind her. She doesn’t flinch and instead gives you a look, which you ignore and reach for another knife to cut your steak with. “Manners, Wednesday. If you wish to stab something, search for someone that would be worthy of it, not a supper.”

“You missed on purpose,” Wednesday complains, annoyed.

You sarcastically smile, “Perhaps, I wouldn’t intentionally miss again if you’re respectful towards a supper.”

She glared, “Miss again and I’ll dump you in a paint full of pastels.”

You just rolled your eyes at her tactics while Jason bursts into laughter, knowing how much you and your family hate pastels. To the Addams, pastels and joyful people are the most insufferable matters in the world. There’s nothing you all hate more than that.

His father and brothers couldn’t believe what happened in front of them. None of the Addams, even Jason, cared that you just threw a knife at Wednesday. In fact, your parents were far from concerned as they only watched with warm smiles on their faces, because truthfully that was just you and Wednesday bickering. It’s nothing serious although others might disagree.

“Apologies for our children, Mr. Wayne.” Morticia says casually after Wednesday had returned to eating her dinner, making Bruce turn to look at her. “They’ve always bickered even when they were just a child. (Y/n) and Wednesday in particular, they liked to attempt burning each other alive ever since hearing the story of one of our ancestors who got burned at the Salem Witch Trials. Children love those stories, you know.” She places a hand on her chest, right above her heart, smiling at her children.

“Wait, hold on— You tried to burn each other alive?” Dick was the one who questioned what everyone couldn’t find their voices to ask about, too shocked and horrified that attempting to kill each other seems so natural and normal within the Addams family.

“Yes, for the record.” You answer without looking up. “Being burned alive is classified as the most painful, agonizing way to die, which is why it had been the perfect punishment for those who were accused of witchcraft in 1692 and 1693. My sister and I were intrigued to see whether this was a fact or just merely false information, so we would always attempt to burn each other in hopes of discovering the truth.”

“Funny thing is, they never did.” Jason cackles as Wednesday shot him an unamused look. “(Y/n) still wishes he could die being burned alive, though.”

The corner of your lips merely twitched in a soft smile as you kissed the back of Jason’s hand affectionately, eyes closed. “Have I ever mentioned I want you to do the honor?” You say with such a loving and adoring tone that Jason felt his heart swell, knowing this is somewhat a proposal that only an Addams would understand.

It was a traditional Addams way of showing they love the person rather than wrapping it up in just three words that rarely comes from the bottom of one’s heart. You would die for him, and only he could bring your ultimate demise, no one else. You were offering him your heart and soul, as well as life, permitting him to hold and treasure it for the rest of your lives. It was an implication that you would dedicate your life to him with nothing in return — you will do everything for him. It’s easy to kill — you’ve nearly done it with the Joker — but it’s not easy to live and die for him, but you will and you would.

Feeling overwhelmed with all the love you endlessly give and show, Jason couldn’t help but hide behind his empty hand in an attempt to hold his tears in, always being emotional whenever he gets the love he doesn’t think he deserves. But he does. You’ve never failed to show him he deserves everything you offer. God, how did he even end up with you? You’re so good to him, so loving and giving, Jason didn’t even expect you’ll be like this back when you two were just strangers building friendship. Jason can’t let you go anymore, and he would never even if you asked him to. He loves you just as much as you love him, although yours seem bigger than his.

The Wayne family witnessed Jason, the usually insufferable Todd who thrives off of violence, cry at the mere love and affection his lover gave. Jason was crying because you reminded him of how significant he was to your life. The big bad wolf, the ruthless Red Hood, the boy who had an immense thirst for vengeance, the boy whose blood is filled with utmost rage towards the world, was crying at the simple showcase of love.

And that’s how Bruce — no, his entire family — knew they failed to love him enough.

But they don’t have to make it up to him anymore. They can’t, because you’re already showering him with love and adoration and appreciation and everything he deserves. You did everything what they were supposed to do — what Bruce was supposed to do.

“Oh, mon amour...” You let go of his hand to gently hold his face with both hands, kissing away the tears that overflowed from his eyes. Jason stayed still, relishing how good you are, how soft you treated him as he gripped your gentle hands. Once you’re done kissing his tears away, he buried his face into your chest while wrapping his arms around you, embracing tightly. You kiss the top of his head, caging him in your arms as you gently run your fingers through his hair.

Jason closes his eyes within your embrace, inhaling your calming scent mixed with a cooling hint of cologne. It’s funny how you’ve always associated yourself with death and darkness, yet for Jason, your mere presence is a light at the end of the tunnel that makes him alive every day. “Thank you, (Y/n)...” He murmurs into your chest, barely audible, but heard by you nonetheless.

You gently scratch his scalp, not caring about your meals and attention solely focused on your lover. “For what exactly, chéri? I have not done anything for you to give me such gratitude, at least not that I remember. I have only been attempting to drown you in my love and affection, haven’t I? Are they worthy of your gratitude?”

He chuckled, “You know damn well they are.”

You tilt your head, a smile tugging at your lips. “Even so, do you truly believe it’s significant for me more than just your presence?” Jason slowly looks up at you, his mesmerizing eyes meeting yours, before shaking his head quietly. A satisfied look crosses your face at that, “There you go. It isn’t difficult to figure out now, is it?” Jason shakes his head, burying his face into your chest once again.

As you continue to comfort Jason, Damian stares at the sight with a weird look. “Todd is extremely quiet when he’s around (Y/n). It’s... weird.”

Dick nudged him, “Hey, let him be. Jay’s probably just very comfortable with him.”

“It’s still weird, though.” Tim insists.

Barbara and Stephanie watched with smiles while you kiss Jason’s forehead, too willing to accept you despite finding your family quite strange. People have different traditions and cultures anyway; they figured yours are just too extraordinary and unusual that don’t fit society’s standards. Being different doesn’t matter when it’s clear that you love Jason too much, in your own special way.

Cassandra glances at Bruce, who seemed to be in deep thought. “I don’t think you have any other choice but to accept him.” Her voice snaps him out of his thoughts, “Look at them. They’re very much in love. More than in love, I’d say. It looks like they were meant to be with each other. Like destiny’s the one who wrote them together.”

Bruce looked at the two of you, who obviously saw nothing but each other in your little world.

“Besides, he basically called bullshit on your morals. And you know all too well he’s beyond right.” Cassandra smirks, “I hope your pride doesn’t get in the way of welcoming a new member, dad.”

Bruce sighed.

Well, it’s inevitable that you’ll be a member one way or another. Cassandra was right about that, and although he didn’t want to admit it, Bruce knew he accepted you the moment you stood up against him. It’s not always there’s someone who is brave enough to speak up against the Bruce Wayne.

Though, he may have to teach you not to strangle literally every single person who mess with Jason.

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tatumtater · 4 months

Text

No one else

pairing; joel miller x reader rating; 18+ warnings; the tiniest bit of descriptive smut, kinda angst, basically fluff divider; cafekitsune summary; it was never meant to be complicated, no more than hooking up. word count; 990 note; I suck at proof reading and editing just in general, this was just a little short drabble, something to attempt to get the creative flow going. this had better potential tbh.

Joel is in pure bliss. Love. In love. He was never the man for domestication and settling down. It has always just been him and Sarah, never needing anything more. Until you showed up. Wrapped under his younger brother’s arm being dragged to him. Shades of pink flushed your cheeks as you two were introduced. That night you two hit it off good. So good you went home with him.

That night turned into a bunch of nights spent together, but only nights. You two only confined in each other between his sheets and calloused fingers.The space between you two is only filled with the sounds of pleasure and begs. Please Joel. More. Please. Please. Please. That solitude only lasted 7 months.

His breath was rugged, staggering into your ear. A soft moan escaped your lips as you dug your nails into his back, anything to pull him closer. Euphoria ripped through chest, his pace not slowing down. His fingertips danced your back and his lips kissed your jaw, “ you could be my entire world, “ he whispered into your ear before moving down to your collarbone and placing a kiss. You didn’t say anything. You couldn’t say anything. Your eyes squeezed shut and hissed in a breath. It was never supposed to be like this. It was never meant to get complicated, it was never meant to turn into anything.

Joel’s pace became relenting, his hips snapped into yours, balls smacking against your ass. He became louder, his moans more erratic. His hand rode up the side of your rib to the swell over your breast. Taking your hard pebble between his lips, his thrusts became sloppy. “ Tell me. Tell me you’ll let me have you. “

You choked back tears. This couldn’t happen. This can’t happen. Not with Joel. This can’t get messy. “ J- Joel. “ You hand trailed up his back and onto the base of his neck. Anything to distract him Anything to make this encounter quicker so you can make your dash for the door and return his messages, leaving him to wonder where it went wrong. He must’ve taken his name call for more, bringing his lips back up to clash with yours. All teeth, spit mixed into each other's mouths. Joel was always your favorite taste at the end of the day. Always tasted like whiskey, but never overbearing. Maybe just a quick glass before you two get tangled between the sheets.

He was close, pushing himself over the edge. Whatever he felt in this moment absolutely wrecked him, sent him to another planet. He groaned as he tensed up, painting your walls white with his spent. He placed a softer kiss against your lips as he tried to catch his breath, pushing sweat soaked hair out of your eyes. You met his gaze and the reality set in, you have to end this. You have to break his heart to protect your own.

“ Joel. We can’t. “

His brows furrowed in confusion, “ can’t what. “

You pushed his shoulders slightly, pushing him off of you. Bringing the sheet up to your chest and sitting up, turning your head to look at him. “ This. We can’t do this anymore. We can’t do anything. You don’t want me. I’m no good. Used damage. “ Pushing the sheet over, you slid off the best, grabbing your old t-shirt off the floor before slipping it on.

“ Now hold on a damn minute. Baby - “

“ Joel, please. Please don’t make this complicated. “

“ Have you ever thought about what I wanted? What I wanted in this? I want you, baby. All the time. All. The. Fucking. Time. I’m distracted. Always distracted. I’m shit at work. I fuck things up now and Tommy has to fix it. When I first met you, the very first time I saw you, saw you under Tommy’s arm. Well, well baby I wanted to run away. We clicked, something that night just did it for me. I wanted to run away because I knew if we started doing this, we would never stop. I’d never want to stop.That’s exactly how this is, that’s exactly how it has been. In no universe would I want to let you go, would I ever let you go without fighting for you. “

Your eyes started to become glossy, shaking your head, you hissed in a trembling breath. You were about to crack. About to become a sobbing mess if he didn’t knock this shit off.

“ J-Joel. Please. I’m begging- don’t. “

“ I want you. I want to be with you, on you, in you every second of the day. I dream of a life with you. A life that could happen. I could make it happen. I could make you happy. We could make each other happy. I want to marry you. I’d marry you tomorrow if it would seal the deal you were never leaving. I want to add you to my health insurance. I want to buy groceries on things you like. I want to have your trinkets littered around the house. I want the closest stuffed full of your clothes. You have nestled deep into my heart. I need you. I want to play it cool, tell you i’m not obsessed but I’m head over heels for you darlin’. “

You will never witness a love like this. Never again and never from a man like Joel. Your heart swelled, you needed him, even if you left and never spoke to him. You’d mourn what was there, what could have been. He didn’t think of you as baggage, as used up damages. He thought of you as a flower, delicate and full of life. Filled with different emotions you tackled him, arms wrapped tightly around his neck, you let out a breathy laugh that was filled with tears.

“ You, Joel Miller, are the most magnificent thing that has ever happened to me. Be gentle with me, Joel, that’s all I ask. “

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel x y/n #hbo the last of us #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller fic

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luveline · 1 year

Note

hello jade! would love to see aaron just lovin on chubby reader 🥺 bc tbh he’s probably a thigh guy…

hi! I hope this is what you meant!! fem!reader, cw suggestive

You hadn't thought you were Aaron's type. His late wife and his ex-girlfriend were both decidedly skinny, and you'd just assumed, without malice, that his preference lay outside of your parameters.

You'd been wrong.

"You're so fucking handsy," you murmur, a juxtaposition of surprised and delighted as his big hand creeps up the inside of your thigh, back cold where it's pressed against the wall.

You can barely remember the gentleman he'd been sometimes. Ridiculously shy, his advances had often been misconstrued as friendliness, and he'd spent months pursuing you, months in which you'd begged yourself to look the other way. Only when he'd forced a bouquet of flowers into your hands and said firmly, feet-planted like he was facing a potential disaster, "Would you look at me? I'm trying to tell you I want you."

He'd gone a shade of red you'd never seen on him and explained in kinder tones, "I might be past my prime but I remember the chase. I can understand your hesitation, but I can't ignore the obvious." He's always been brave.

You'd liked him and he could tell. Your lack of reciprocation physically had thrown him for a loop: you'd fluster and fawn and stare at him, and he'd touch your arm and you'd pull away.

There's no hesitation now. You take his face into two bold hands, lips stretching up into a stickying smirk.

"Anyone in there?" you coo.

His hand closes around your thigh. It aches enough to send little sparks of excitement up your spine.

"Forgive me if I'm distracted."

He commands, you deflect.

"Distracted?" you mumble, hand sliding up into his hair for some roughness of your own. You pull at the ends of his hair until he hisses. "By what, baby?"

"Awful thing." Oh, that's you.

His gaze holds yours, brown eyes dark and unwavering, head dipping down, down…

"Somebody should put you in your place," he says lightly, lips parting over your neck. His teeth dig into your neck, his hand climbs ever higher.

You're still the girl you were when you met, but his obvious appreciation of your body and all its softness has emboldened you. You're playful. You're, as he said, awful.

"And you think that's going to be you?" you ask, fingernails scratching the nape of his neck.

His laugh is warm. His hands are mean. Aaron squeezes a cruel path to the first suggestion of your underwear, thumb brushing against a laced hem, and stops. His nose crushed to your neck, his lips close over your pulse and stay there as he bruises an unhurried half moon.

Your breath hitches with the sensation.

He pulls away, nipping at your scandalised skin. "Yes," he says, voice low, hand drifting to your outer thigh and roaming upward until he's grabbing at your hip. "That's going to be me."

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner x chubby!reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic #criminal minds

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spookyscarydemonbabe · 9 months

Note

💄🌙🌌

i just got a new lipstick the other day 😍 tbh this is something that’s been on my mind for so long 🤤

(and tbh i really wanted to make it so much longer but i had to remember it was supposed to be blurbs i was writing 😂)

Eddie always loved it when you showed him your new makeup.

The pretty blushes that always gave you a little more color. The shimmery eyeshadow that brightened your eyes. But his favorite thing without a doubt was seeing the new lipsticks you bought.

And you always let him test them out with you to see if they were a good fit. Thank god you went out shopping today.

You had gotten another gorgeous shade of deep red, Eddie couldn’t keep his eyes off of your lips all night. It hadn’t budged all night, even through dinner and a few sneaky make out sessions as you had wandered the mall. He was just happy he didn’t have to constantly be wiping away lipstick stains. This one may have been the perfect one.

“Alright gorgeous,” Eddie said as he opened the van door for you, “it’s lasted pretty good so far. Want to head up to our spot and give it one final test?”

You smiled as he shut your door,

“Of course! We have to make sure it’s perfect.”

He ran over to the drivers side and quickly got in, pulling out of the mall parking lot just as the sun had started to set, the sky changing to shades of gold and orange.

Eddie drove down the familiar path to your spot, and you couldn’t wait to see the view when you got there. It was always absolutely gorgeous at this time of night. A hilltop view of Hawkins, all the bright lights shingling beneath you as the stars twinkled above. Such a romantic spot, you never got tired of seeing it.

He parked the van in the same spot as always, backing up a few feet away from the edge for the two of you to get the best view of everything.

You both had left your seats and Eddie opened up the back doors, both of you taking your seats in the back against the little makeshift bed you had made. Soft scattered pillows and blankets and some battery operated lights and candles to make sure you weren’t in complete darkness. Eddie placed his arm around your shoulder and you leaned into his side, placing your hand onto his thigh as you looked out across town.

“You know,” You said to Eddie as your hand slowly moved up and down his thigh, “I never get tired of coming up here.”

“Me either,” You looked out across the sky, admiring the twinkling lights you’d seen so many times before, and yet it still felt like the first time you ever saw them, “it’s always so beautiful…”

Eddie looked down to you and swooned seeing the beautiful look on your face. So entranced with the view. He placed a quick kiss to your temple,

“You’re beautiful.”

You giggled,

“That was a little cheesy…”

“It was, wasn’t it?” He laughed with you and you settled into the bed in the back, laying yourselves against the pillows resting all along the back of the front seats.

Eddie’s arm slowly moved over your arm, bringing you closer into him, your arm draped over his stomach and your leg across his. He moved his other hand to carefully hold onto your thigh, his thumb tracing little patterns onto your skin. You could tell he was getting needier by the minute.

You glanced over to his watch to check the time as the sun set completely, the dark sky only making the lights below seem brighter. 9:48 pm.

“Eddie?” You asked as you looked up to him, your hand over his heart, feeling the soft beating getting faster as you said his name. How adorable.

“Yes, my love?” He was staring down directly at your painted lips. You could feel him adjust his body under you, the groin of his pants feeling tighter against him as it pressed into your leg. You knew exactly what he wanted.

“Ready to test this lipstick?”

“God, i thought you’d never ask-“ He sat up quickly and you giggled watching him struggle with the button and zipper of his pants. You loved how eager he always was.

You reached over and closed the back doors of the van and once you looked back Eddie had been laid back against the pillows, one hand behind his head and the other slowly stroking his cock. Already standing stiff, rock hard, no doubt from having you so close to him.

You slowly crawled between his legs, giving gentle kisses across his thighs and giggling each time you felt him twitch. You stared up to him with your sweet doe eyes and lowered your lips down, giving a gentle kiss to the tip, smiling as soon as you heard a groan escape his lips,

“Baby, please…” His chest was already heaving and his jean jacket had been tossed aside, the band shirt he had on underneath was scrunched just above his bellybutton.

Your eyes stayed on him and he watched your lips part, softly wrapping around the head and gently suckling, your tongue swirling little circles over it just to tease him further. Too much teasing always pushed him over the edge and that’s exactly what you wanted. You needed him to be aggressive. You needed him to be Eddie.

With one last gentle lick you could feel his fingers move through your scalp, collecting the hair at the sides of your head and holding it all back for you, not wanting you to get any messier than he was planning for. He carefully yanked your hair back to make you look up at him, leaning forward and looking into your eyes,

“Mouth. Open. Now.”

You nodded and did as he said, opening your pretty painted lips for him as he moved your head back down, carefully sliding his cock between your lips. A familiar feeling that you never tire of.

The head pressed against your tongue as it slid further down your throat before he pulled your hair taut, carefully pulling himself from your lips,

“Think you can get used to it quickly baby?”

You nodded once more, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips just thinking about the next few moments. Your hair gripped in his hand, his cock thrusting into your throat, and your nice pretty lipstick leaving little marks and streaks all along his groin.

It made your mouth water just thinking about it. And Eddie could see that too, smirking as he lowered your lips back down and slowly bobbed your head up and down his length, keeping a slow steady pace to let you adjust.

“That’s it baby girl, think you can take more?” He asked you through gritted teeth, doing such a good job holding back from losing himself. You looked up to him with a gaze that he knew meant ‘yes sir’. You even batted your eyelashes up at him to really let him know he was exactly what you wanted.

Your hands were placed gently onto his thighs to keep yourself balanced and you had a quick gasp of air leave your lungs as he plunged himself into your throat. You gagged, the tip of his cock just barely grazing over your reflex, and you could feel the tears pricking your eyes when you heard a little chuckle escape Eddie’s lips.

He could see the brand new lipstick you were wearing plastered all over your lips, messy and smeared, a few streaks on your cheeks and he could see the same colored stains on his cock. His favorite little touch had to be the spot right at the base of his cock, the perfect imprint of your top lip left behind.

“I think this is my new favorite color on you sweetheart…”

tags: @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @munsonology @esme-viridian @gvf23

#stranger things #stranger things 4 #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x yn #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson smut #eddie munson blurb

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haveyouseenherlately · 26 days

Text

pov: you decide matty needs some makeup

this photo always makes me feel things as it is peak shy subby bf matty so some thoughts on that below as i have nothing better to do than mop around now that they’ll be going on a (much needed) break.

warning: 18+, smut mentions. grammatical errors, typos.

other bf matty blurbs & rambles here.

okay. maybe there was one time when you went to one of their shows so you were just chilling in the greenroom minding your own business. it was just after soundcheck so there was time to spare and you decide that a makeup touchup wouldn’t be the worst thing. you grab your bag, walking over to one of those cool tables that have the large mirrors and impeccable lighting which makes you feel like you’re a famous person yourself. fancy! anyway, you sit down and take out some of your makeup to use, neatly lining the items down on the surface in front of you. you pull you hair behind your ears so it’s not in the way when you notice in the mirror that matty is heading towards you. the cute bf that he is, he comes up and wraps his arms around you, kissing your neck from behind.

“whatcha doin’, my darling?”

“not much. just freshening up a bit.”

“you know you don’t need any makeup ‘cause you’re already fucking gorgeous, right?”

“says you, the most effortlessly good looking human ever.” he snorts and rolls his eyes, but you notice the grin on his face because he’s a sucker for compliments, specially coming from you hehehe.

“you should try it sometime.” he looks confused at your statement. “makeup. you should try it sometime. it’s fun.”

“oh. hmm, never done it before. feel like i’d be rubbish putting it on tbh.” (he would be abysmal at it, i’m afraid)

“well, lucky for you i’m here. sit down, healy. let’s make those fans of yours go absolutely crazy.”

his eyes widen and jaw drops in utter disbelief. “what!? NO absolutely not.”

“c’mon love. pretty please? i bet you’d look damn sexy with some lipstick on.”

“riiiiight.” 😒

“i’ll make it up to you after the show.” 😉

😳 “OKAY FINE” he immediately scoots you outta the chair so he can take a seat lol

you spin him around so he’s facing you, quickly kissing his forehead and lips before you get started. internally you’re flipping out ‘cause, of course, you’ve daydreamed of putting makeup on matty more than once (re: many many many times) before. you pick up three lipsticks from the table and ask him which colour he’d prefer. he tilts his head looking at the shades before pointing at the dark burgundy one in the middle. fuuuuuuuck. okay okay, you didn’t really expect him to pick that one tbh. you'll be fine. sure.

you get your scrambled (dirty) thoughts together and pop the lid off the lipstick, grabbing some of the pigment with a thin brush. you begin by carefully outlining his lips, all while he looks up at you with those soft brown eyes that you cannot get enough of. you can tell that that he’s a bit nervous as he keeps repeatedly tapping his foot. “it’s okay, baby. it won’t take long,” and after a minute or so you’re done with the outline, taking a step back to ensure it looks alright. you’re happy so now it’s time to fill in the rest. sweet matty is still looking up at you as you ask him to slightly open up his mouth to get better access for adding the colour. he obediently does so and it takes everything in you to not drop to your knees in front of him as fuck he looks too damn beautiful for his (your) own good. once again you attempt to set your mind straight and bring the lipstick to his bottom lip, slowly dragging it across as you start to apply the burgundy tint on him. you continue on to the top one until his pretty lips are all now covered with a deep shade of berry which actually complements his skin tone perfectly (but what doesn’t, really?) he closely watches as you lift your thumb and lick the pad a bit before bringing it to the corner of his mouth, wiping away some of the residue. you take a closer look, almost there.

“okay, bear with me here darling, okay?” he nods.

you bring up your pointer finger and slowly put it in his open mouth resting in on his tongue. his eyes widen in surprise but you can definitely see a glint of lust in them. this is too much fun for you.

“close your mouth and suck.”

without breaking eye contact he does as instructed and you SWEAR you heard him quietly moan as you slowly start sliding your finger out of his mouth.

“there, now you won’t get lipstick on your teeth.”

you take your face in both of your hands to look at your handiwork. perfect. you smile and very lightly kiss his lips (as to not ruin them) before you spin him around so he can look at himself. your arms wrap around his shoulders as the both of you stare at his reflection.

“what do you think?”

in usual matty fashion, he blushes at the sight of himself wearing lipstick, the same colour which he’s seen you wear countless times before. also the same colour that has ended up all over his body due to your lips. you notice the gears turning inside his head and kiss his temple in order to try soothe him as you think he’s feeling self conscious at the sight of him wearing makeup. when in reality he’s just flustered because he cannot stop thinking about kiss you all over and marking you as his.

--------

ngl i could ramble on about putting on makeup on subby matty for hours lol

sorry for the nonsense ramble but thank you if you made it this far :)

#will never get enough of this image #matty healy #bf matty #bf matty blurb #matty healy x reader #the 1975 fanfic #the 1975 fic #matty healy smut #blurb

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archaiclumina · 12 days

Text

I was tagged by ཻུ۪۪♡.@sundered-souls ཻུ۪۪♡. in this fun little tag game! Thank you so much for thinking of me! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡

I did something similar for Oli dear recently, so I thought I'd do this one for Ren c:

ｂａｓｉｃｓ

Name: Cyfrenne Mirandis (Phoentic: SIHF-ren MIH-ran-DIHS)

Nicknames: Ren, Frenne (used only by her uncle and occasionally Leontyne.) Cyf (used by Callineaux, to annoy her.)

Age: 34

Nameday: 19th Day of the Second Umbral moon Race: Elezen (Her model is Duskwight, but technically, Ren's family have been citizens of Sharlayan for like two centuries, so she doesn't really consider herself a Duskwight at all. She's got no knowledge of the clans experience in Gridania and The Shroud.)

Gender: Female

Orientation: This is hard for me to answer c': It never really comes up in my writing tbh, so I don't bother to think about it. I do ship her with my husband's characters for fun, but nothing we joke about in terms of ships are canon. Ren has no canon romantic relationships. She's married to her work and her research. I guess she's in a platonic life partnership with Oli? lol.

Profession: Archivist, Bibliomancer

ｐｈｙｓｉｃａｌａｓｐｅｃｔｓ

Hair: White with hints of lilac, especially toward the tips

Eyes: Violet. One slightly darker than the other.

Skin: Slate blue

Tattoos/scars: None

ｆａｍｉｌｙ

Parents: Father, Conarique Mirandis Mother, Venesande Lorenaire (unmarried)

Siblings: None she knows about, but neither of her parents were married so she could have half-siblings somewhere, potentially.

Grandparents: Grandfather, Eyvanellain Mirandis Grandmother, Milesevain Mirandis nee Urseult

Grandfather, Urmenost Lorenaire Grandmother, Solette Lorenaire nee Haustefort In-laws and Other: Uncle, Zancefer Mirandis

Pets: None

ｓｋｉｌｌｓ

Abilities: Aetherolinguistics, Advanced Arcanima, Bibliomancy, Enchantment and binding cants, memory salads* *I elaborated slightly on this previously here

Hobbies: Weaving, long walks at midnight, making jewellery (especially rings), gossiping and drinking coffee, reading, giving Leontyne social lessons, watching Callineaux lose at cards, eating Oliviede's baking.

ｔｒａｉｔｓ

Most Positive Trait: She's fun!

Most Negative Trait: She's a liar :c

ｌｉｋｅｓ

Colors: Ren likes all colours, as long as they're combined tastefully with accompanying shades. Her favorite colour is gold. (I like to put her in purples and blues because I just like how she looks in those colours in game, but canonically, Ren wears a wide variety of colours and cuts of clothing. She' very vain, you know? c': )

Smells: Peppermint, frankincense, pepper, vellum, wax

Textures: Old parchment, soft chiffon, porcelain, lacquered wood, uncut gemstones

Drinks: Dirty Chai, hazlenut milk, something fruity with rum or gin (two shots!)

ｏｔｈｅｒｄｅｔａｉｌｓ

Smokes: Not very often, but maybe something Oli offers her once in a while.

Drinks: Weekly, at least.

Drugs: See above comments regarding Oli.

Mount Issuance: Cyfrenne has a Chocobo whose name is Sorrel, he's very spoiled, he lives on Costa del Cobra with the rest of her uncle's Racing Chocbos. Fun fact: Sorrel is the little brother of "Bonecrusher" a current, albeit rarely successful, racer at the Gold Saucer. (Callineaux picked the name.)

Been Arrested: Not yet!

Tagging these beloved moots! As always, no pressure to do it/sorry if you've already been tagged! જ⁀➴♡⸝⸝ @angelinecarax, @dragons-ire, @archivumesoterica, @candycryptids, @improvised-finish, @the-unending-journey, @luck-and-larceny, and @dragonsongmakhali ʚɞ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

#tysm for the tag! <33 #tag games #ren #edited this to fix name pronunciation because I suck at phoentic spellings and it's not a real name so all the translators are like wonk c'

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kirbyystar · 7 months

Text

soft giyuu - headcanon

character: Giyu Tomioka

reader: fem!reader

A/n: Hello hello readers! As said before, I decided to write Giyu this time :) Please note this is purely my thoughts on Giyu, you may or may not agree, but that's okay! The next post will most likely be next week on Friday.

Purely fluff and soft! kinda

warning: mention of periods. pads. curse words. in case u aren't comfy reading as such :3

Giyu. Oh, Giyu. ‎ Just imagine Giyu being so gentle with you. ‎ He's a gentleman fr. ‎‎‎ he knows how to treat you right. ‎‎ memorized all your favorite places. ‎ Giyu, who'll wake you up with kisses on your head, his arms wrapped tightly around you just to stay longer in bed with him. ‎ He adores everything about you, your features, your personality, and you as a person. ‎ Despite his cold appearance, he isn't the loudest at love but it's just perfect. ‎‎ Acts of service is def his love language. He knows you so well. ‎ He doesn't have to overlook to know something is wrong, he immediately knows. frankly, its almost scary. but he just wants to make sure you're alright. ‎‎ he tends to do the smallest things that makes your heart do flips. ‎ he likes to keep all the things you give, whether that be A ROCK. a bracelet? hes wearing it. a hair tie? hes using it. a note? hes keeping it.‎‎ ‎ he doesn't know why, or how he's gotten so attached to you. ‎‎‎ There's something about you he can't get enough of. It's probably the way you treat him, like a normal human being. Not everyone can be so kind to Tomioka. You're just one of the few he can actually be himself. ‎ He's a listener than a talker. You guys can sit and talk for hours and he would honestly want more time to talk with you. He can never get tired of you. ‎ Giyu loves when you rest your head on his shoulders. He'll take your hand in his, holding it as he listens to your voice. All the stories you'll tell him. He doesn't open up as you thought, but he can still give you advice or even tell his own stories. ‎ He's your best friend, boyfriend, husband, Giyu is the whole package tbh.

definitely sees you as his future wife.

he wants to see you in a white dress, walking down the aisle as he promises to himself to protect you.

he wants a family with you, only just one tho lol.

one mini you or him, he doesn't mind.

tho if he really had to choose, he'd want a baby girl.

loves to stay up at night to have convos with you.

not much of a public affection type, but he'll hold your hand or wrap an arm around you.

he loves hugs from the waist.

trapping you in his arms is his playful side

he doesn't show his playful as much- but he's a tease.

his texts are quite boring and blunt.

"Ok love."

"When are you coming?"

"I got what you asked for. :)"

his msgs are obvi always capitalized and he'll use punctuation

yes i see giyu messaging like that, do you not?

Y/n and Giyu Conversations through text.

y/n: hey baby, are we still going to kyojuros party? Giyu: Yes. y/n: alright. can you pick up pads for me at the store? *read 1:36pm* ... y/n: baby? Giyu: Yes, sorry. I'll get you pads. y/n: great :D see you soon!

Giyu set his phone down his desk. He only needed 20-ish more minutes before he can clock out. He didn't respond to your message for a good 2 minutes because, what are pads? He looked around his surroundings, making sure no one was looking. With so, he went onto google to search 'pads.' He'll admit, you occasionally bring up being on your period every month but he didn't want to question the whole process so he left it at that. But now he had to go buy some.. pads? Oh his cheeks were clearly a light shade of pink, embarrassed he even had to search up such a thing. Nonetheless, he knew if he did this once it wouldn't be such nerve-racking. He'll know the next time.

"Oh Tomioka, DO NOT get those." a voice behind his ear scoffed, Giyu turned to see a smirk forming on his lips.

"What?" He questioned the other, "I said don't get those. The ones you're looking at are far too big. Look, it says overnight." Giyu turned his back at his phone and realized, 'fuck.'

"Well.. I don't know what size she is.."

A loud laugh left the other boy lips. "SIZE? You're joking Tomio. C'mon you been with y/n for how long and you still haven't bought her pads?" Giyus head shook, he quickly realized that this is something he should know. After all, he listens to you complain how uncomfortable it is sometimes. "No Sanemi. I have not. Care to help since you know so much?"

Sanemi shook his head with a wide grin at the foolish boy. "Nope. I would love to see you get this wrong."

Giyu rolled his eyes and turned the opposite side to continue scrolling, he just sighed. He only needed 10 more minutes and he can just make a quick stop at the store to buy you what you asked.

His shift was over, it was time. Time to buy pads.

Y/n: Hey baby, can you get the overnight ones too if you can? Giyu: Of course. See you soon.

He shoved his phone in his pocket, tugging at his tie in nervousness. He was infront of what seem to endless counts of pads. He read each one he can carefully. Soon enough, he found a pack he recalled he might've seen once at home. It was risky but he grabbed it. Along with the one he saw online, the overnight ones. 'It'll do.'

Giyu: On my way love. Y/n: I made dinner before we leave for tonight's party. :))

Giyu thumbs up the message and drove off back home. To you, where he can sigh in relief he managed to buy you pads. In hopes he didn't fuck up. Through the whole car ride, he swore he'd listen to you explain what the fuck pads, a period, everything! he cursed under his breath as he thought of what Sanemi told him earlier, "That damn asshole."

he comes home with a bag, placing it on the table and calling out your name.

you knew what you did. purposely sent him out to buy pads knowing he knew NOTHING of it.

while he was worried, you were clearly in excitement to see what he bought.

To your surprise- he bought both of what you use.

You hug and thank him, that was all he need to sigh a relief.

He managed to do it all himself without the help of his annoying coworker.

He plants a kiss on your head and whispers, "lets go get ready love."

With that, you both arrived at Kyojuros party. :)

divider: cafekitsune.

Thank you for reading my story! I thought this was such a silly idea and decided to write it lol

#giyuu tomioka #demon slayer #kny giyuu #giyu #giyuu x y/n #demon slayer giyuu #writing #headcanon #blog #kny #kny fanfic #kimetsu no yaiba #hashira #kny x reader #writers on tumblr #new beginnings #i hope you all enjoy!#this was too funny #demon slayer got me wrapped around its finger istg

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thelonewolf48 · 11 days

Text

Hello, Blank the series community!

How are we processing the ending of season 1? Are you angry? Do you understand Khun Neung's actions? Do we want to hit her? Yes, you say? 🤣🤣🤣

I wanted to wait a bit (also got busy at work lol) to avoid any spoilers for anyone who don't watch Episode 6 and last one for a while... I don't know how I'm gonna cope with it tbh... I'm following 23.5 and other web series but tbh... never on the level of Blank... I have to admit that GAP did it first but Blank did it better... which, no shade to GAP because FreenBecky, my beloved, chemistry was so good too!

And to clarify, GAP the series also had its own set of problems, most of them regarding money and locations, but what they did, opened the door for more GLs. Some, with good and bad executions, but that's up to each person and their preferences to decide!

BUT ENOUGH OF GAP (the perfect GL, to me!) Let's talk about BLANK!

As a start... I didn't like that they began from when Aneung knocked on Neung's door... it ate like 4 more minutes with them, plus they didn't keep the same tension.

On Episode 5, the tension was felt thanks to the zoom on their faces that lasted quite a good amount of seconds and Faye's minuscule lean.

This time it was cut and then bam! KISS! (NOT THAT I'M COMPLAINING!)

I'm not gonna go on full detail because I believe we all watched the episode, there are a few technical things I want to point out but I won't because nah! There was some foreshadowing to the doom that was to come... and no, I don't say this as a person who has read the book 🤭

I will go straight to that last part...

I had to go back to read that last part in the book because I wanted to keep this as accurate as I can.

So, throughout the episode, we see Aneung's family praising how good of a Role Model Neung is for Aneung. This is the first red flag. Then we see Neung still having doubts about their age gap which I find normal in this setting, because it can happen. This is the second red flag.

The final nail to the coffin, and the one I think everyone should consider whenever questioning WHY Neung broke this as cruel as she did, is that she thought she used Aneung as a way to distract her own pain.

In the book, and the reason why I re-read it, Neung sounds more detached, more out of the moment, and at some point even more aggressive about it. In the series, Neung, although also feeling out of the moment, the scene takes a more soft and romantic approach. They show us Neung's walls falling and accepting that she does indeed love Aneung.

Also, the "brake up" is harsher. Feels like a slap.

Now, we have to consider that in the book, right after their love making Aneung goes to school, everything seems fine, heavy, but good enough. Things happen, that I won't reveal because it could be spoilers, but one of those things is that Fah calls Neung about the funeral and everything. Fah is the one telling Neung that she trusts Neung, she's a role model, and she knows she will take care of Aneung.

Here, there is something I wanted to point out. To hear Fah say it, right after what happened it's what triggers Neung to break Aneung's heart. As logical as Neung is, that is the conclusion she gets after everything.

Aneung is young, thus can fall in love again with someone around her age. This is the conclusion Neung forms in her head. Plus, she sees something else that triggers a reaction. Something we will see in season 2 😆 so, no spoilers but maybe some of you can imagine what.

Neung is very logical, very cutthroat, and as stubborn as their grandmother. We have to remember that, as the eldest, she was trained to be the next heir. So, her life was very, very different. If you see any royal family, the image they project is one of perfection. So, it's no wonder that Neung learnt how to mask her feelings. If something hurts, hurt it back a thousand times worse. Or better yet, just ignore it.

Neung, just like Sam after she became the heir, prefers avoid her feelings because she knows caring equals pain. So, why bother?

There's a whole process Neung does before she goes to Aneung, in the book.

But I have to admit that the series spin was chef kiss! I'm sure that Neung, after waking up, was blaming herself for letting things escalate so quickly.

I will defend Neung with my whole heart because the traumas she carries makes her scared. And like a feral animal, the only way she knows how to defend herself is attacking. She pushes and pushes until she proves to herself that she is right. Everyone leaves.

I could continue rambling and going and just word spit things, but I have to sleep 🤣🤣🤣

Don't share spoilers if you read the book! Unless people want them, I will keep my posts spoiler free! Either way, if anyone wants to discuss the book, you can send me a message too!

Once again, I say this Blank the series set the bar waaaaaaay too high! I can't deny it!

Anyway, guys, do you agree? Disagree? Let's have a respectful debate!

#blank the series #I HAD STUFF TO SAY!#it disscuss the book version of THAT scene but spoilers free #I feel like I just didn’t say shit lol #AneungxNeung #GUYS WHAT'S OUR MAIN SHIP'S NAME?!#I'm tired of writing AneungxNeung😆😆😆#sorry for the block of letters!#read it at your own risk!

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xxlady-lunaxx · 4 months

Text

Beauty and the Beast | {ObaMitsu}

Theme: Angsty fluff

Note: EVER JUST THE SAMEEEEEE EVER A SURPRISEEE!! EVER AS BEFORE, EVER JUST AS SURE, AS THE SUN WILL RISEEE ✨

i love the song Tale as Old as TIme tbh (i can't see shit rn nd i messed up writing 'tbh' like 15 times... /srs)

Obanai sat with his head buried in his hands, his bandages no where to be seen.

Fuck. He'd been careless. And stupid.

He hadn't slept in several days then he'd gone off one a mission and let the stupid demon cut off his bandages the same day he'd forgotten to bring extra. And he didn't have anywhere to go given that his crow had gotten hurt at one point—not the curtesy of the demon, luckily—so he didn't have any missions and the closest place here was a small shelter that looked like it would fall in at any moment.

Nevertheless, he'd stayed there, desperately needing some sleep. And now he was feeling useless and horrible because if anyone were to come here before his crow came back, they'd see his face.

Horrid. He couldn't imagine what would play out if that were to happen.

And so he sat there, Kaburamaru sliding across the floor in search for a place that might appear warmer and never finding any.

But then there was a knock at the door and, upon noting it wasn't a demon—and mostly from instinct—he said, "Hm?"

"Uhm... Oh! Iguro-San, you're here? I'm glad... Can I come in?" Mitsuri's voice slipped past the thin barrier the cabin created.

It was windy and cold outside of this place as well, though it didn't do much but somewhat helped block the wind. And Obanai hated the thought of Mitsuri to be cold, especially when he noted that there was a shiver in her voice as she spoke.

He lifted his sleeve, letting his haori cover his face, then he opened the door, letting the Hashira in.

"Iguro-San! Hi! I heard you didn't have your crow or anything and so I came here." Mitsuri offered him a sweet smile and he nearly melted right then and there. "Do you not have any bandages?" she asked then, noting how he was covering his face.

He shook his head. "No," he said, his voice muffled by his sleeve. "I... forgot to bring any and the ones I usually wear got, uhm, torn." He sounded so stupid right now.

"Awh... Well! Good news is I got some," Mitsuri said, smiling brightly. "Want me to help you put them on?" she asked.

Obanai hesitated. He would love to have her put them on if it weren't for the fact that he looked like a demon, himself, without the bandages.

"It's alright if you don't," Mitsuri said, probably noting his hesitation.

But he took it as that she'd misinterpreted it as unwanting her there and he scrambled for a response. "You... can help! Just, uhm, I'll... turn this way and then you don't have to look at my face," he said, saying more than he'd meant to in his nervousness.

"Hm? But your face is pretty," she said, quite cheerfully. Then flushed.

Obanai's cheeks were a deep shade of pink as he shook his head, flustered. "No, uhm... I'm not pretty," he mumbled. Then, deciding that sounded ungrateful for her compliment, "but thank you. You're the... pretty one, Kanroji," he added quietly.

The two Hashira sat there for a long moment, their faces brushed with pink in their embarrassment.

"Iguro-San, I have complete faith that you're beautiful. Nothing could ruin that!" Mitsuri said after another minute of silence.

"No... You simply say that because you're far too kind, Kanroji. My... appearance is nothing of the sort that could be complimented at all. From my eyes to... the reason I wear the bandages. None of it is 'beautiful,'" Obanai concluded, his sleeve slipping over his eyes as well. Fuck, he was going to cry.

"No!" Mitsuri said, her voice defiant and almost... sad. "No, you're not anything but beautiful, Iguro-San!! I love your eyes—the different colors are so pretty and I love how they almost seem to glow when you're happy. Your hair is very pretty too! I love the darkness of the color and how soft and soothing it looks. And I'm sure whatever you have under your bandages is quite so beautiful because you have not a flaw in you," she said, her arms crossed as she stared at him as if waiting for him to defy her.

And then, perhaps from exhaustion or perhaps he was tired of hiding it, Obanai's arm fell to his lap, his face completely exposed. He averted his eyes, staring at the ground instead. He wish Kaburamaru was with him, to tell him what to do, but the snake had slipped out to give the two privacy a couple minutes ago and now he was alone.

Mitsuri gasped, seeing the deep mark the scar had left on him, the only physical sign that he'd been through anything in the past. "Oh, Iguro-San..." she murmured, moving forwards and reaching out. She hesitated, then, unsure if she should, and her arm fell to her side.

"You see?" Obanai whispered. "I'm ugly. I'm not beautiful. I could never be. You are a beauty, Kanroji. Something I could never be. I'm... sorry. For not meeting your expectations. Or not pleasing your eyes."

A silence drew the room to one without movement for a long while and Obanai figured that Mitsuri might've left right now somehow if no one was saying anything.

But then two hands were placed on his cheeks to lift his gaze up and his eyes widened.

"K...Kanroji?" he said uncertainly.

Mitsuri's face had contorted to a somewhat mad one, though she looked quite adorable with this expression and none the angry bear. Her eyes met Obanai's and she said, slowly at first as if trying to make a child understand, "You're every bit the worth the world. You're every positive comment and compliment and you're beautiful, Iguro-San. I don't want to hear you say otherwise. Every part of you will have it's own story, whether it's good or bad but regardless you're still the amazing, cool, and pretty Iguro-San I've ever known, understood? You musn't say otherwise, you musn't think otherwise because it is not true! So do not, under any circumstances, say you're ugly again. Because you're not!! I swear on my life, you're one of the most beautiful people I've met." And then she let go of his face with one hand, tracing the scar, his nose, his cheeks with her finger, the action so gentle and loving Obanai nearly collapsed upon her.

"I..." he started, but a finger was place to his lips to sience him.

"Will you promise me to not say bad stuff about yourself anymore?" Mitsuri asked sternly.

Obanai's eyes fluttered and he nodded slowly. He would do it for her.

"Good," she said, releasing his face. "I'm... sorry for going so close to you."

"No... No, it's alright," Obanai said. Then, figuring she'd already seen the worst of him and still somehow hadn't run away screaming, said, "Kanroji, may I... confess something?"

"Anything," Mitsuri said, smiling gently at him. "Whatever you want, Iguro-San!"

"I... Uhm... I've liked you for a while... I was afraid to say anything or mention it because of my scar. My... family did horrible things in the past and, in short, I tried escaping and got them all killed—knowing that they might be killed. Yes, I was young, but it's still no excuse. I didn't want to tell you this because... well, who was I fit to date such a pretty girl? If you ever accepted, anyways. I was equally fearing that you would be disgusted by my scar, but you haven't been yet—or at least you aren't making it obvious. And because of that, I... wanted to tell you this," he said, his eyes catching everything but her.

She went silent for a moment before she said, "Oh, Iguro-San, oh, I do love you much so!!" She nearabout burst into tears and clung onto him. "Of course I want to date you!!"

Still with shock, Obanai nearly forgot to say anything. "R...Really?"

"Yes! Yes, I'm so happy right now," Mitsuri cried out.

He patted her head, unsure what to do. She sat up suddenly and Obanai realized just how close they actually were.

"Iguro-San! Can... I kiss you?" she asked nervously.

Kiss him. She wanted to kiss him? "...Yes, yes you don't have to ask," Obanai said, slipping his hand under her chin.

Their eyes fluttered closed and Mitsuri pressed her lips against his tenderly, gently.

Kaburamaru slipped back inside right at that moment, taking one look at the two before going back out.

They pulled apart, breathless from the experience.

"Iguro-San?"

"Hm?"

"Are we dating now?"

Obanai paused. "Do you want us to be?" he asked.

She laughed. "Of course! I want to be with you always, Iguro-San. Through life and death!!"

He smiled back. "Then yes."

{Word count: 1473}

Mitsuri realizing she never gave him the bandages later

happy new yearsss :3 i wrote this in like 40 mins in my bed when i'm not allowed online muahahaha >:D (i snuck my laptop upstairs Xd)

anywho

Idk where this random burst of motivation came from but hopefully it stays bc i keep starting my requests and not finishing them :'>

#kny #sillyness #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #fluff #angst #obamitsu #obanai iguro x mitsuri kanroji #obanai x mitsuri #angsty fluff #ds #hashiras #manga spoilers #wahhahhas idk #happy new years :3

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sunlightandsuffering · 7 months

Note

Padawan Mikasa subtly sending girls flying when they get too close to her Master Eren. She does it at stuff like crowded bars so noone can tell who even did it. But she's so smug when she sends a girl flying into a table of drinks because they were acting too flirty around her master. Eren ofc always knows it's her doing it, at first he didn't know why and thought she just had some violent habits.

But once she got older and Eren realised it was jealously fueling her actions, he'd manhandle her out of the area and find somewhere he can fuck the brattiness out of her until she's dazed and obedient. Maybe use the force to bounce her on his dick faster 🤭

omg okay anon i actually love this so much! imma write it! I saw it earlier before i went back to sleep and I was like damn this is cute!! TBH does starwars count for halloween?? Like should I do a bunch of star wars drabbles for halloween?? would that be cute?? But im imagining when obi wan and anakin are in the club in attack of the clones, looking for Padme's attempted assassin, that's the vibes.

They turn heads, wherever they go in the galaxy they turn heads, and why wouldn't they? Mikasa is beautiful, stunning, one of the most attractive women he's ever seen, and she's in the prime of their youth.

He's not surprised when people look at them, it's just unfortunate that they are also Jedi and well, sometimes stealth is required.

He turns back to his padawan before he enters the club, giving her a stern look, "Would you be willing to perhaps wait outside?" She gives him a wan look that tells him everything he needs to know, and the answer is a firm resounding no. Eren sighs, reaching over to yank at the hood on her head, fingers brushing over the soft apples of her cheeks in the process, tucking raven locks behind her ears. He looks at her face for a moment, heather grey eyes, cheeks flushed the softest shade of blush and full pink lips. She's stunned for a moment, looking up at him so earnestly and with so much affection it's hard not to kiss her.

She is temptation itself so without further delay he yanks her hood rather brutally over her head.

"Eren!" She protests and he grumbles to himself, "Pain in the ass padawan." "Hey!" "Keep the hood on Mikasa or we're gonna have words, you're too distracting."

He paces towards the club entrance, nodding at the bouncers, and just as he's about to step over the threshold he stops, and he hears a little 'oof' just as Mikasa bumps into him, her hands darting out to clutch his waist to steady herself, breasts pressed up against his back. He's quick to turn in her grip, unhooking her arms because the force knows he doesn't have the willpower to withstand her touching him for that long.

He looks at her sternly, his hand reaching out to snatch her lightsaber from her belt and Mikasa pouts at him, "And hide this will you, nothing says Jedi more than a lightsaber Mikasa, oh and don't lose it, that'll be the next thing." "Yes Master," she murmurs, her cheeks colouring pink as she takes the instrument back, eyes darting away at her earlier blunder of losing said lightsaber, but she can't resist a sassy little quip, "But I only learn my habits from you." Brat.

Eren huffs, but says nothing on the matter, but she just might be correct, he's lost his lightsaber more times than he'd care to admit.

He ignores her quip, stepping into the club, his own lightsaber tucked away and immediately he can feel Mikasa at his back, as close as she can get, always pushing her luck. The universe had laughed when she'd been chosen as his padawan, sweet divine intervention, payback for him being a hellion of an apprentice himself. Except Eren thinks Mikasa is much worse, because his master had never had to deal with sexual temptation, he only has so much self control and Mikasa tempts it at every turn.

"We're looking for information," Eren murmurs gruffly as they approach the bar, Mikasas taking his arm in her own, cuddling up to his bicep, an act she'll later claim is simply to keep up the ruse. Mikasa leans into him, waving down the bartender, the perky mounds of her breasts pressing up against his arm, and he knows without looking that she's allowed her robes to slip, just enough to reveal a hint of cleavage. And of course, she's not wearing the requisite undergarments, no she's a young padawan learner, likes to flagrantly flout the rules, thinks the jedi robes she's been issued are a bit too stuffy. And she knows he'd never admonish her about it, had heard tales of his own adventures before she'd even met him, had known how rebellious he'd been, so who is he to tell her what to do. God, had his rebellious phases been a mistake.

Especially when Mikasa leans over to take her drink and pay the bartender and the beige robes she's wearing slips more, revealing a delicate collarbone and just the hint of her shoulder, stretched taut around her left breast now, the beige edge of her robe just barely concealing dusky pink, just a hint. Fuck.

Everything he can't see he can feel though, pressed tightly against his side as she orders a drink to make the ruse seem believable, make them blend in.

She takes a sip of her drink, her robe slipping just a little more and Eren can't function, reaching over with his other arm to yank the robe back up into place irritably.

"We should split up," he tells her gruffly, pulling his arm from her grasp, he can't be in this scenario with her for much longer, she takes advantage and he's too weak to say no sometimes, lets things go on for much longer than they should. "I guess," she sighs, "but I'd feel much comfortable with you master." God that name, that fucking title, it does things to him, dirty things that are making his dick stand hard at attention, and he's thankful for the dark tunic he's wearing, covering up his arousal. It's so wrong, so, so very wrong, but the way she says it, the absolute adoration and devotion in those gray eyes, how he knows she'd look exactly the fucking same on her knees, his cock in her mouth, would probably whisper it, 'Master', pretty and breathless as she sucked him off, as he fucked her into the bed.

No!

Bad Eren!

"Master?" Mikasa questions again, the title lingering on her lips curiously, her hand reaching up to touch his arm, and he resists the urge to yank his arm away. "We're splitting up Miki." She pouts, and Eren feels bad for a moment, it's not her fault really, she's just so damn tempting. He reaches up, tucking a stray lock of hair thats fallen back behind her ear, making sure her hood is secured tightly. A silent ask of forgiveness for her percieved slight. He can't resist the intimate gesture, his finger trailing along her cheek affectionately, and Mikasa leans into him, her eyes fluttering shut.

Force she's so beautiful, so ripe, prime for the taking, it's a wonder he hasn't had her yet, especially with how obviously she'd be into it. In the last year of her apprenticeship she's changed. Where she used to be the perfect padawan, loyal and obedient, almost to a fault, now she was a brat. Like adulthood had changed her.

Freshly eighteen, she'd woken up on her birthday a different girl, the undergarments of her Jedi uniform gone, her new lightsaber, an alarming red almost pink colour that he'd chastised her for. But she'd pouted asking what was so wrong with the colour pink?

It wasn't red!

And tempting him beyond belief, it was like it was her mission in life to fuck with him now.

She'd always driven him nuts of course, just in different ways, it was irritating to have an apprentice that was so much better than him at things. What was he supposed to teach her if she was already good at everything?

She was almost a better sword master than him, and her attunement to the force was amazing, maybe better than his too, it had maddened him those first few months that she could so easily do things he had struggled with for years. And then, during a mission there'd been a close call and he'd realized that Mikasa wasn't perfect, she had things to learn just like everyone else, they were just different things. And now, he'd like to think he'd taught her pretty well, because what Mikasa had to learn wasn't battle techniques or how to use the force, it was how to think outside the rules of the Jedi temple, how sometimes not everything was cut and dry and made sense so easily. So of course, who better to teach her than the most rebellious Eren Yeager who even within the Jedi order was frowned upon for constantly breaking the rules.

People had been outraged, but here they are, with more successful missions than anyone else. "Eren," Mikasa whispers, pulling him out of his haze, her voice breathy, eyes still shut tight as she basks in his touch and he immediately rips his hand away. A frown mars her delicate features, silver eyes peering up at him with displeasure at the removal of his touch. "We're splitting up," he repeats, no remorse this time, physically removing himself from the situation with a step back. "See what you can find out." "Yes Master," she tells them, but this time there's a distinct note of sarcasm to her tone, and she marches off with a huff. Eren groans as he leans back into the bar, the force knows he doesn't deserve this. Well, maybe he does. A little. "Aye, she looks like a right pain in the ass," the bartender speaks from behind and Eren nods in agreement, "She is, can I get a beer?" The bartender chuckles, "She's pretty though." "That she also is," Eren agrees, dropping a few credits onto the bar top for his drink, "Now do you mind if I ask you a few questions about a patron of yours?"

An hour later Eren has gotten some information on their target, but not enough to be satisfied. And Mikasa, well he hasn't seen much of her since she left the bar, just brief moments out of the corner of his eye, her robe falling too low again, chatting up a bar patron a little too flirtatiously, tormenting him in any way she can find.

But he refuses to acknowledge it, can't give her the upper hand, he is the master here, he has to exhibit confidence, self control.

He's becoming a little suspicious about why all the women he talks too suddenly decide to get up and leave halfway through their conversations. If he didn't know any better he'd say someone was using the force to make them leave, but of course Mikasa would never do that. Right? But his suspicions are growing, especially when the third woman in a row suddenly up and leaves their conversation with barely a word.

And then he sees her, she's at the bar, talking to some guy but her gaze is focused on the woman he's with, her fingers moving marginally and of course, with Mikasa's command over the force, it doesn't surprise him when the pretty blonde girl he'd been talking to suddenly sets down her drink. "Sorry I have to go." And then she's gone and Eren doesn't even bother to be subtle as he figures her out, turning his his seat to glare at her. Their eyes lock and she knows she's been caught. Jealous brat, but he can't deny it pleases him just a little, even more so when she obeys his unspoken demand, leaving her conversation entirely to walk over to him. Her drink is clutched tightly in her hand as she awaits her punishment, her head dropped dutifully, "I'm sorry Master." Eren is feeling chaotic today, a little bit of his old rebellious spark fuelling his next actions. Instead of lecturing her about her use of the force he gives her a taste of her own medicine, grabbing her by the waist and bringing her to his lap, tucking her into his body. She makes the sweetest little noise of surprise as she's abruptly forced to straddle him, her face tucked into his neck and Eren chuckles darkly. "Isn't this what you wanted Miki? To pretend to be mine for a night." She squeaks, as he grabs her thighs, settling her how he likes, playing at being the couple that everyone envies, the most beautiful people in the bar that everyone wants to be or wants to fuck, but they have each other. He tucks her close against him, letting her have just a hint of what she does to him, his turn to flagrantly break the rules as he grinds her against his dick, lets her feel the full length her teasing has caused all night.

Because for all Mikasa's talk and bratty behaviour lately, she's still only eighteen, young and inexperienced, she talks a big talk but she can't follow through, too sweet, too shy.

"Master," she whimpers, her head buried in his neck, her hair covered by her robe, "I-I'm sorry." "Don't apologize Mikasa," his hands rove over her curves, cupping the plush of her ass under her robes, "You displayed excellent control over the force, even if you were being kind of a brat while you did it. Did you find out any information." She nods into his neck, her lips tracing along his clavicle and he shivers, "I did." "Good girl." He knows if he could see her face she'd be preening, it's a wonder what praise does to his young padawan, the way her eyes sparkle, and even now she relaxes into his hold, a soft sigh overtaking her. "I'm sorry though Master, I just I couldn't stand it, watching you with them when it should be me." There it is. Eren hums, massaging the plush of her ass gently, resisting the urge to dip down towards the warmth of her heat where he knows she's probably soaked. One hand slips up to her chin, forcing her gaze up to his, he tells her the truth,"You couldn't handle it."

"Master please," she looks up so earnestly, "If you'll let me, I'd like to try."

He says nothing for a moment and Mikasa moves against him, grinding the soft warmth of her cunt down against him where he lays hard and wanting in his robes, "Please Master, please?" He groans, shaking his head, "Pain in my ass." She bats her eyelashes, and Eren lets out a long suffering sigh, "Yeah, go get the ship." AN ATTEMPT AT JEDI EREMIKA !

#jedi eremika #jedi em au #i can't remember which tag i chose now lol #and they are both here #lys's drabbles

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brinaanana · 1 year

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I just discovered your art and it’s so beautiful!! Have you thought about sharing a process video or brush details sometime? I also use procreate and your painting work is so lovely, it’s soothing to the eyes, I’d love to learn more about it 💕

Hi!

I'm really happy you like my work so much! Tbh, I've always wanted to share my drawing process, but never ended up doing it. Thanks to your ask, I'm finally motivated to write one!

I will go over my process / brushes / and other extra things of this particular drawing... under the cut!

Starting out:

The most decisive part of drawing (in my opinion, anyways) is the initial sketch. I usually find myself drawing multiple preliminary sketches before going to coloring, hence why the video below is cropped in the beginning. There are so many things running through my mind as I sketch - should she look at the viewer? Should I make her cross her arms? How should how clothes flow? That sort of thing.

The most frustrating thing in art is definitely having an idea, but being unable to carry it out due the skill set not matching up. For example, most of my drawings have the characters standing there like 🧍‍♂️ I wish I can do something much cooler like having Kaine pointing her blade at Nier but I lack the skill to draw poses like that. Better yet, I want to be able to draw from different angles. One day... I swear!!

Coloring:

There's no lineart section because I barely have patience to do so loll. Back before uni started, I had enough time to go line my drawings on CSP using my tablet back home. Nowadays, I'm just drawing on my ipad whenever I can. My art style changed a lot due to this new adjustment, which is pretty funny because it's been only one semester so far.

The brushes I usually use are the following, I don't usually use anything else other than these, unless I am working with metals. I use the "glass" brush in pretty much everythingggg, from sketching to cleaning up. Lmk if anyone wants to try the brush. The edge brush is by JenClaessen , which I love to do to shade skin. The last tool I use is the ordinary airbrush. My favorite thing adding soft lighting using it!

I like to do this thing where I use the glass brush at low opacity to add a complementary color (yellow in this case) in the area where the base and shade meet (1)! Another thing I do it adding a brighter, saturated color towards the end of a round surface. This is adds shape to the 2d drawing, since there is light creeping from behind her (2).

Because my art style is highly stylized, the lighting in my pieces seem to hit harsher than reality. I make the shading where it meets the base color the darkest, and the shading gets lighter as it gets farther away, or vice versa (3). In other words, the shading near her nose is darker than the other areas on her face.

I would usually lower the opacity of the lines and change their color appropriately, to give the drawing a softer feel. Coloring is basically also my cleanup stage too. As I color, I will erase the lines and make the colors show the way instead. I would also like to note that I utilize the airbrush in skin to show texture of it, while the use the glass brush to do the intricate details in the hair/clothes.

Editing:

For editing, I usually start by copying/pasting my whole drawing then tone curving immediately. Tone curving is basically adjusting the lights and darks by manipulating this line. The line towards the right changes the lights, vice versa for the darks. I don't remember the exact configurations for this drawing, but it should be akin to this:

After tone curving, I like to slap on a gradient map for more interesting effects! Similarly to the tone curve, the colors towards the right highlight the lighter colors, and vice versa. Below are the colors I chose for this drawing. Tbh, I can't really explain why I chose these colors specifically - I think the best results would come from going with your guts and trying to use colors to match the vibes.

Honestly, with procreate's features, you can't really go wrong. Sometimes, I'd tone curve a drawing multiple. Other times I would add two gradient maps that contain different colors together, with different layer effects. The noise filter is super charming when applied subtly to the shades. The chromatic aberration makes lazy doodles polished.

Here is the process video. I draw multiple things in a single canvas, so I cut those bits out.

#ask #art tips #tutorial #nier kaine #nier #drawing

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chromotps · 3 months

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#saw this and thought it’d be up your alley^^#very star crossed vibes haha

oh!! tbh i don't know if i've ever gotten a submission before haha i hope this works right

[steeples my hands] this is up my alley... the poetry... ace acknowledging luffy and even sabo are somehow different from him... the idea that ace is in the echoes around luffy all the time......

but also. I am a big soft depressed weenie (especially after getting off work lmaO) so i have to make ace happy eventually—EDIT: I got a second wind and wanted to stretch my writing muscles, so... Have a wild drabble!!

Even as it set, the sun's light washed over Luffy like honey: rich and copious. It was something Ace couldn't lift from his brother's skin no matter how hard he imagined. Luffy was meant to be like this, golden.

Ace knew it was an odd thought, but he couldn't help it. They were sharing a rare quiet moment at the hill where they'd wept for Sabo. Now, with Ace's departure drawing near, he found his mind meandering down strange, overly sentimental paths, especially when it came to his brother.

Breaking himself out of the pattern, Ace unwound a hand from where it'd been wrapped around his knees, and gave a cursory yank—tugging on the tattered, too-big hat resting against Luffy's back.

"You don't really need this thing, do you?" he said. "You never get burnt."

Luffy, interrupted from idly pulling at the grass around him, looked up with an affronted expression. "Of course I need it! It was a gift from—"

"From Red-Hair, yeah, yeah, I know." Ace sighed. "I'm not saying it's not important to you, relax. Just that you don't need it—the sun doesn't bother you."

Luffy tilted his head, goofy preteen face squinting at the clarification. As if he had to think of everything in concrete terms, Luffy pulled the hat off his back, holding it in his hands so he could contemplate it.

A grin spread across his face. "I guess you're right! I'm still glad I have it, though." His smile was dazzling; Ace didn't look away, but his heart suffered a pang for the lack of action.

"It's a part of my dream, like you said." Luffy nodded. "As long as I have this, I'll know I'm on my way to becoming the most amazing pirate ever!" He looked at Ace then, grin turning impish. He'd probably been swept up by another one of his dumb ideas.

"Hey, Ace, you should start calling me 'Captain Luffy.' It'll help me get ready!"

"Pfft." Ace grabbed the hat from Luffy, and stuffed it back over his brother's head. Luffy couldn't see his fond smile, whining like he was from beneath the wide brim.

Ace held the smile while he spoke over Luffy's whine. "As if. Try that again when you've actually got a crew to boss around, and your own ship."

"Aww. C'mon," Luffy sighed. He sounded put-out, but he didn't refuse Ace's next unspoken offer: the older teen knelt, facing away from Luffy, arms lifted back to accept his brother's weight.

He didn't need to say anything at this point, the two of them so used to the tradition. Ace would carry Luffy, piggy-back, to Dadan's at the end of the day. Luffy climbed into his hold easily, chin resting over Ace's shoulder, childish pout still in place.

"I'm gonna do it some day, you know." So petulant.

"Sure," Ace said. It sounded dismissive, but he didn't actually have any doubt in his mind. He knew he'd lose Luffy to that dream eventually.

His brother might be right here in his arms, and they'd wake up tomorrow close enough to touch, like always. But Ace knew he'd never really belong at Luffy's side. He didn't belong at Sabo's, or his mother's, or Dadan's; but he especially wasn't meant for Luffy's.

They entered the forest, everything dimming in the earthy shade. Luffy was drowsy at his back. Ace's overactive brain thought that only made sense. The sun would naturally retreat, with night coming on.

Twilight gave way to dusk; a branch snapped somewhere in their vicinity, and Luffy tensed ever so slightly against Ace's back.

Well, Ace couldn't have that. And so he hummed. If nothing else, he could do this for the brother he couldn't keep. He'd make sure Luffy stayed safe and grew up strong. That way, if he ever faced something dark on the path to his dreams, he'd have a song in his heart instead of fear.

"S'not even that sunny," Luffy mumbled. Ace paused, turning his head slightly, but it wasn't like he could get a clear look at Luffy right now.

He kept on walking, but asked, "What was that?"

Luffy sighed. His tired, warm voice drifted by Ace's ear. "I don't really need the hat, 'cause we spend most of our time together here. In the forest... Right?"

He sniffed sleepily and then continued, "The sun doesn't really reach us here. N... Nothin' does." In what seemed like a total leap in logic, Luffy then said, "You don't really have to call me 'Captain.' When it's just you 'n' me..." Luffy yawned. "...none of that other stuff matters, 'kay? I'm just Luffy, and you're just Ace. S'all there is."

Ace blinked.

He squeezed Luffy's leg in his grip, and kept walking.

#submission #thank you!!#please excuse my post work moping #i am off to watch cute shoujo anime w some friends and eat fresh baked cookies which will literally fix me #acelu #?#for my own blog sorting purposes if nothing else haha

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mangozcat · 2 years

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— hello dear readers. this story hits a bit closer to home than the rest. this story, while yes it’s a smut for all of you to read and enjoy, is also one for those bigger girls that just don’t feel like they belong. all of the descriptions you’ll find for the oc are descriptions of my own body and how i see it when i look at myself in the mirror. i just want everyone to know, YOU ARE PERFECT! you are beautiful and loved and you shouldn’t worry about if you fit the standards of people around you. if you don’t fit YOUR standards, that’s what matters. if YOU want to cause change, go for it! but don’t allow others to make you feel the need to change, because you are lovely as you are!!! i love your big thighs and tummy that causes a little bulge if you wear high wasted jeans. i love your smile and your messy hair with split ends. i love your boobs!! (that sounds bad im sorry) and theyre NEVER too big or too small. don’t be ashamed to wear extra big bras or extra big clothes and don’t get yourself down. i love you :)

tw: unhealthy body image

w: softer smut (meaning it isn’t entirely complete and has an open ending for ur imagination), praise, big-bodied reader (so the descriptions during smut are to fit her body so it might be hard to imagine yourself as her), jealous reader, you might dislike this reader because she has a lot of insecurities but tbh i find her realistic lmfao, body worship, jaem is like legit hottest painter ever pls, sexual tension is real oml, slow, unprotected bc like jaemin cum inside is so hot i cry every time, very long but it didnt need to be, i havent written in months pls be nice this might be awful

ok just to like clarify, im still trying to get back into smut so this is more of an easing into it? its quite long and most of it is just story + teasing, sorry to leave anyone hanging :( i just wanna kinda ease back into it, but i still think this is pretty hot tbh lmao

jaemin’s good at painting.

you recognized his talent the day you met him; varying shades of pink and purple mixing with the bright yellow shades and orange hues that created a beautiful sunset. you’d seen it on his canvas that he was carefully dragging up the stairs of the sweet and small cafe across from your college.

then, you saw that same colorful piece strung proudly on the wall behind your favorite table, or well, your now favorite table.

your favorite ever since the painting had been placed there.

he’s gifted; has a talent that few have and/or ever will have within their lifetime, regardless of practice. the saying might be practice makes perfect, but you know no amount of practice will make a painter as perfect as jaemin is.

his brush strokes are soft, yet precise, and he blends color effortlessly. in all your combined hours of watching him work, you’ve never once seen him make a mistake. all of his work turns out perfect, breathtaking, and you’re never not in awe of his abilities.

today, however, you’ve discovered a new talent of his.

body painting.

something you never thought you’d be interested in, yet here you are, watching as his brush draws elegant lines across the toned stomach of his model. her breasts are on full display and while you’re fascinated by the scene, you can’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy underneath.

her face remains blank, eyes closed in relaxation and body completely still aside from the occasional ticklish twitch. you wonder how she remains so effortlessly composed, even while knowing that such a beautiful man has his hands so close to every area she typically hides from the outside world, and his eyes darting across every expanse of beautiful pale skin.

not to mention, her body is beautiful, and this is something you cannot deny. she has thicker thighs, though still remaining on the smaller side. her arms are small, but laced with some muscle from her obvious workout routine. her stomach has little fat, though still enough to remind prying eyes that she is, in fact, healthy and eating well. she has perky breasts, but they’re smaller and more fitting to her form, with tiny nipples that stand right up every time jaemin’s brush dances over her chest.

and her face- oh, her face. plump lips and rosy cheeks, hazel eyes, deep brown hair pushed back into a low bun that leaves a few stray strands to frame her face.

jealousy.

there’s that twinge again.

the feeling of anger and envy and desperation all mixed into one, laced thickly with insecurity. insecurity because you know- you know you’ll never compare to her model physique.

korean beauty standards are tough, and yet, that girl seems to fit all of them without trouble. however, as you glance down at your stomach, seeing the bulge in your shirt from where the lower half of your abdomen juts out and rests over the band of your jeans, tears fill your eyes. you know you have big thighs, thighs that shake and jiggle and erupt a loud pop! when you slap them. you know you have sunken eyes from lack of sleep and overwhelming anxiety and puffy cheeks. you know your hair has split ends and is unevenly cut at some lengths, and you know your breasts are larger than others.

you wish you didn’t think like this, but when allowed time to think and remain trapped in your own head for long enough, you have no choice. you don’t fit the standards, you don’t fit jaemin’s standards, and you doubt you fit the standards of anyone in the world.

you hadn’t been paying attention for the remainder of jaemin’s session- not that you wanted to- and had begun to drift off. soon enough, when you heard jaemin and his model begin to converse quietly, almost as if they were trying to make sure you couldn’t hear, you figured your mind was slowly killing you and simply murmured out need fresh air, before you were scurrying out of the room.

there was something unsettling about being in love with an artist. someone that could find beauty in everything and anything, and make the best out of the worst situation.

but when being in love with an artist, among several other insecurities, one always lingered longer than others.

could he find the beauty in you?

if jaemin did feel the same way about you as you felt about him, could he find a way to fix the imperfections? could he repair the broken image you’d been looking at in the mirror for years? could he find a way to mend all the pain, close all the wounds, and top off the scars with pretty, punctual bows as opposed to what you had now: ragged and mangled skin?

of course, it’s all hypothetical, and it all comes back to two questions. could he love you? could he find the beauty in you?

could he love someone incapable of loving themself, and find the beauty in something that has been left out to rot and rust? the beauty even you cannot seem to find, regardless of how many times you attempt to.

you didn’t realize you were shivering. the air was frigid and windy, and you were sure your cheeks had turned a rosy pink due to the exposure. you felt a cough bubble up in your throat and hugged yourself tighter, eyes staring up at the sky.

if jaemin were here, he’d call the sky his blank canvas.

too bad he isn’t- too bad his attention is on the girl with a perfectly sculpted body and a pretty face, and an even prettier voice; and you were sure she had a pretty laugh and a pretty personality to top it off.

jealousy.

“i can’t escape it, can i…” you murmur quietly, referring to the burning feeling blossoming in your gut. a feeling that was traveling through your veins like blood and spreading to every place in your body like wildfire- until it reached your fingertips and you wished you could do something with it.

when you heard his voice, however, it practically fizzled out and you were left frozen once again, lips quivering.

“awfully cold out,” he says, that wistful tone to his voice he seemed to always have. you felt a jacket being placed over your shoulders, and your heart further sank at the idea that it might not fit if you were to attempt to actually wear it.

“you should head back inside, don’t want your pretty face damaged by the cold.”

when hd noticed you weren’t returning his stare, he gently, hesitantly, reached a hand out and cupped your cheek opposite of him. then, as softly as he could, he tugged the skin until you were leaning into his touch, finally meeting his eyes.

“what’s wrong, cherry blossom?”

cherry blossom.

the nickname he’d given you once he discovered your favorite tree- and later created several pieces of art that now adorned your bedroom. the pretty pink petals falling down onto the bright green grass, matched with soft handwriting that read a cherry blossom for my cherry blossom on the bottom.

“she’s pretty,” you muttered, almost disdainfully. you felt awful. here you were, hating on a girl because she was pretty. because no matter how sweet she might be, it doesn’t change the fact that she’s pretty and you don’t think you are- envy has you wrapped around its’ evil finger. “don’t you think?”

“who’s pretty?” jaemin asks curiously, a comforting hand tracing circles into your back.

you withheld a scoff, feeling tears of frustration prick at your eyes. your brown eyes; eyes no match for the beauty of her hazel ones.

“the girl you were painting,” you murmur sadly, trying to ignore the familiar twinge eating away at you.

you didn’t want to compare yourself to the girl, but you couldn’t help it. it happened without you even realizing, and once you figured out what was happening, you were far too gone and the feeling had invaded your mind long enough to twist the facts.

jaemin hums, watching your expression closely.

“well yes, she is pretty,” and once your face falls and your eyes drop to your shoes at his confession, he shakes his head, “but so are you.”

“while she might be the art i painted today, you’re the art i admire every day,” he says slowly, tugging you into his chest. you feel pride swelling in your chest and the tears in your eyes soon turned to tears of indescribable happiness.

“don’t let the fact that i painted her get to your head, yeah?” he whispers, “i really didn’t even look at her unless it was to make sure the piece blended together.”

“she’s just so perfect…” you whimper sadly, “and i guess she just made me realize- well i just felt so ugly next to her.”

you felt a kiss on the top of your head, making your eyes close in content.

“you are not ugly, cherry blossom.”

while you weren’t entirely sure if this entire conversation was a confession of sorts or just friendly reassurance, you didn’t want to overthink it. his words pierced your heart in all the right ways- and you really didn’t want to mess it up.

—

you hadn’t seen jaemin do any more body painting work- or even mention the topic- in a month. he seemed so passionate about it, so his sudden disinterest was shocking to you.

of course, you appreciated it considering you were his assistant and ended up watching him work 99% of the time.

but, still, you did worry deep down.

what if you crushed one of his dreams with your own selfish insecurities?

you still remember when he came running into your apartment with a book on body painting, rushing to explain the art. you really hadn’t understood a word he said at the time, too invested in admiring that one look he always adorned when he was obsessed with something.

and obsession that you envied at the time- could he ever be that obsessed over you?

at some point, could you fill his mind like he filled yours? invade his senses like he invaded your own? if you had one aspiration in your entire lifetime, this would be it: wishing to be someone’s- no, not just anybody’s, you wanted to be na jaemin’s obsession.

a feat that definitely isn’t simple or easy, for that matter.

“have you seen my thin brush?” jaemin suddenly screeches, running into the living room of his (practically yours, too) apartment. “the small one with the angled tip and black bristles?”

your mind blanked. you glanced around at the coffee table, the end tables, and the television stand before scratching your head, “not that i can recall, no.”

“shit,” he cursed, scratching his neck anxiously, “need that brush.”

“okay, this might sound stupid,” you begin, your words slow, “but do you have any extras?”

he shakes his head sadly, as if you’ve scolded him for something he promised he’d do, and later forgot about. “it’s the only brush i didn’t buy an extra of. i always keep it on my desk i didn’t think- i didn’t believe i could lose it!”

“hey, it’s alright, okay?” you whispered, raising from your spot on the couch to approach him in hopes of comforting the clearly confused and upset boy, “i’ll help you find it.”

he looked up at you, his chest heaving from panic-stricken breaths and he frowned, “yeah, yeah- okay.”

with one final comforting pat on the shoulder, you set out to jaemin’s painting room to try and find the brush. you knew which one he was talking about with the descriptions, but if it’s the same you think it is, it’s incredibly small- which will undoubtedly make it tough to find.

in the painting room, as you call it, things look… normal. just like any other painter’s workspace.

jaemin has a board to display his sketches; all hanging up by a tack and some of the pieces are scattered at odd angles. his floor is covered in tarps to protect the wood beneath, and you take note of the paint stains adorning the white material that made loud noises with every step. he had a massive canvas resting against the furthest wall, with varying shades of colors being messily thrown against the piece. perhaps that messy feel was the very thing that made it artistic in his eyes. glancing around, you noticed how every wall had little space on it, instead covered with pieces of his own work and the work of his favorite artists. then, he had a giant table shoved against the wall. there was a case laying open on top, showcasing all of his different brushes; and next to it, an array of paint tubes and cans. even more paint was beneath the table, stacked until it was touching the wood. finally, against the other wall, was his desk. the chair was pulled out at an angle, one you imagined he sat at to think, rather than be crammed up against his desk. stacks of unfinished sketches were lazily strewn around, with a few brushes between the pages. you checked each of them in hopes that the missing brush was here all along, yet you came up empty handed.

while jaemin’s desk was intriguing- well, the entire room was intriguing; all messy and yet still organized in a way only he could understand- you found yourself more interested in one of his sketches. it was another body painting sketch, but this one was… different. the figure had bigger hips and thicker thighs, large breasts, a softer circular face, with a slightly defined jawline, and her tummy was jutting out just enough for you to know: she was you.

jaemin was drawing you.

something about it made you happy, yet sad at the same time. he’d drawn all your flaws, hadn’t he? the lack of a thigh gap, the big belly, the bigger than usual breasts; everything that you were insecure about, jaemin had noticed.

in fact, he seemed to have perfectly mimicked the details. something about the situation made your eyes water sadly.

“you weren’t supposed… to see that,” jaemin sighs, eyes darting nervously across the room. you turn your head to look at him, blinking back tears. “it’s just a sketch i had for some body painting i just- i don’t know, i never finished it.”

“i was gonna ask you before that night but then i realized you probably wouldn’t want to do it.”

confidence was something you lacked, in here, standing across from jaemin in this moment, you felt like you could shrink. so it was true, he had been painting you? it was your body he imagined on full display for him as he painted, and it was your body he made adjustments for to fit, to encourage confidence and comfort.

confidence wasn’t your friend, however, jealousy most certainly was. if you didn’t take him up on his offer, would that pretty girl return to be painted again? would the art meant for your body fit hers as well as jaemin had planned for it to fit you? would it perhaps… fit her even better?

“i’ll do it,” your own voice is unrecognizable to you; raspy in anticipation and shaky from fear. “i’ll be your model, jaemin.”

his face flushed pink and he averted his gaze, scratching at the back of his neck nervously. “are you sure? it’s a lot of pressure-“

never again would you let pretty girl be jaemin’s model. never.

“i’m sure,” you said, a bit too eager.

“alright, well, we can plan a date and time, let me just grab my calendar-“

it was almost sinful how badly you wanted to be bare in front of your best friend. the best friend you desperately wished to be your lover, the best friend that also happens to be your boss, and the best friend you couldn’t live without.

this won’t change that, right?

you failed to think any further, beginning to slip out of your jacket and beginning to hastily pull the bow from the top of your blouse. with his back turned as he rummaged through his desk for a notebook, you only had one prayer running through your mind: hopefully jaemin doesn’t hate you for stripping down.

“i have an opening on the 12th, the 18th, and the 19th,” jaemin says, turning around, “the times are pretty close but i can try to move things around and adjust it to your n-“

“ah…”

his breathy little whisper has you frozen to the ground, eyes trained on the blue paint stain on the tarp beneath you. a baby blue, one you could get lost in and pretend as if you weren’t down to nothing but a bra and your fiery red underwear.

nervously, you scratched at the skin of your arm and painfully dug your fingers into the skin. he could see you- albeit not all of you- and you were completely open to his judgment.

“what about right now?” you murmured, eyes flitting up to meet his piercing stare.

they were respectful, remaining trained on your face and only your face- something you realize just how much you appreciated in the current moment. however, his stare was strong, yearning, and you found yourself looking right back down at the ground.

jaemin took a slow step forward, then another, and another, and each step made your body jump nervously and your heart beat erratically. it was only when a shadow cast itself upon that baby blue splotch on the floor did you peel your eyes back up.

at first, you avoided his eyes. you stared at his pretty cheeks, his neckline, his cute nose, and even his lips (which you got far more lost in than you care to admit).

then, as if he had discovered your tactic, he put a comforting hand under your chin and demanded you to look up with one gesture.

his eyes were soft. sweet melodies mixing with cherry blossom trees and their falling petals stared down at you, like a scene brought forth from a movie. it played in his eyes, slowly at first, then with a faster pace, and soon enough, you’d been sucked into the movie he’d created with just a glance.

dark brown met your orbs, swirling with curiosity and fear, before the tidal wave ensued and you felt like you were drowning.

drowning in him.

“can i paint you, cherry blossom?” jaemin asked sweetly, but the sultry tone in his voice had you weak in the knees. you tried not to overthink it, but the question was swirling with meanings unbeknownst to you, and the potential knowledge of it all had you excited for what was to come.

your response came out at a quiet whisper, so low that you worried if he even heard it to begin with, “yes.”

one of his hands wandered down to your hip, comfortingly tracing circles into the skin. his finger trailed up, erupting a flurry of tingles from the point. you shivered at the sensation, swallowing thickly. his finger went up and up until it ran into the fabric of your bra, and both of you stilled.

“can i take this off?” he asked, breath fanning your face. instinctively, your hand came up to his wrist and squeezed, using him as your anchor to earth- so you didn’t float away because of the bliss he never failed to give you.

nodding meekly, you felt yourself freeze when his fingers raised to toy with your bra straps. it was like he was playing with you; him the predator and you the prey; as he pulled the straps away from your skin and let them smack back against you. it was a shock of electricity and you hummed quietly.

once he deemed his toying sufficient enough, his hands finally ghosted over the back of your bra until they found the clasp in the back. he sent you one final look before you felt his hands tug at the back- and all in one motion, your bra was slipping off your shoulders and down your arms.

he helped the piece of clothing to come off, fingers softly pulling the black straps until it hit the floor with a soft thud.

your eyes remained locked with jaemin’s, preventing his eyes from wandering to the exposed skin of your chest- which, at the given moment, you were dying to cover with your arms.

jaemin took a hesitant step back before turning, heading over to his desk to look at his sketch. he grabbed a container of pink paint and reached over for a thicker brush, twirling it between his fingers as he approached you once again.

the tube made a loud noise when he squeezed it (something you actually appreciated considering it relieved some of the ill feeling that came with the awkward, tension-filled silence) and he applied a bit of the pink paint to the tip of his brush.

you expected it to be cold and uncomfortable, but you were pleasantly surprised once the brush touched the soft skin of your stomach. it was a sensation you’d never felt before, but you breathed in a surprised gasp. it was ticklish at first, the uneven feel of the differing bristle length rubbing against your skin and making you shiver.

you didn’t forget about one of jaemin’s hands on your waist. his hand was big, perfectly cupping your hip and you couldn’t help but look at your position as something more. him leaning into you, eyes darting across your skin as he painted colors upon you. one of his hands cupping you, squeezing on occasion, and fingers thrumming to their own little beat.

it was when he began to paint the skin beneath your breast that things got more heated than you expected. he’d switched to a thinner brush now, purple paint glistening on the tip before he put it to your skin. it was the eye contact he maintained while tracing the underneath of your chest; it was the feel of his breath against your face; it was how your stomach churned uneasily every time you thought about him near you- all of it, it all contributed.

you felt like you were nearing a frenzy. the need to taste his lips on yours, the need to feel his hands- not that stupid little brush- on your skin, the need to feel him in an intimate way you’ve only ever dreamed about with him; you were going crazy.

then, he switched to bare hands, and you knew he knew. he had figured you out by now, you were sure.

dots of yellow paint littered his fingertips and he felt even closer to you than you thought he was previously; close enough to touch if you were only to lean forward just the tiniest bit.

“tell me to stop,” he murmurs, finger beginning to trail circles into the skin of your abdomen. trailing upward in swirling motions before finally, his nail began to scratch sensually at your breast, and yellow painted over pink and purple. “tell me to stop and we end this right now.”

it was like he was begging. voice small and quiet, a desperate hint lacing his tone.

“don’t stop,” you said; the first thing you were confident about in months. you didn’t want him to stop, not now, not ever.

passion.

that’s what kissing jaemin was like. at first, his lips had hovered dangerously close to your own, tempting you to just pucker your own and kiss him. before you could do it, however, he had you under his spell and your lips were trapped against his own. his tongue had completely taken over you, molding with your own before he had you twisted in the feel of him, tangled in him like he was a live vine.

he made you breathless, every emotion mixing with the other until you were falling into him, hands desperately clawing at his neck, his cheek, his chin, until you were sure you’d colored him in your own paint of red marks.

“god,” he murmured against your lips, and finally, he pressed you flush against him. you knew you were covering him in paint and you could feel your breasts push up against his chest, but for once, you didn’t mind.

you felt good. he felt good. everything about the situation felt so fucking good.

“so perfect,” jaemin says softly, squeezing the flesh of your hip. he backed you up until you were against the paint table, shoving his collection of brushes to the side (which, considering he was missing one of his most important brushes, was a pretty big deal) and helping you jump up and onto the newly cleared space.

his hands roamed to your thighs as your lips connected once more, and a surprised gasp was swallowed by him once he slapped your thigh gently. lips traveling to kiss the expanse of your neck, he began whispering against you. you could hardly hear him over your own breathy little sounds, but the words went straight to your heart.

“prettiest girl.”

“so beautiful.”

his hands traced shapes on your thighs, “best thighs. love your thighs- god, i fucking love your thighs.”

you whimpered needily, grasping at his hair.

when he pushed you back against the table, encouraging you to lay down, you somewhat panicked internally at the knowledge that you’re actually about to be bare in front of him, on display for him to judge- or maybe admire.

when he doesn’t do either of those, instead leaning down to kiss down your body, a part of you is conflicted. you’re grateful he didn’t stare because that means he didn’t openly judge you. but at the same time, you wanted his admiring gaze upon your body.

however, he did something much better than that.

applying tiny, sweet little kisses to every inch of skin he crossed, including your breasts, he whispered a praise about everything- and, slowly, you felt yourself relax as your insecurities faded away.

“so soft,” he whispered, referring to your skin.

“do you have any idea how much these drive me crazy?” jaemin nearly growls, raising both hands to cup and squeeze your boobs as he dotted the area with soft, open-mouthed kisses.

you were experiencing an all new high.

tears thickly lined your eyes and sweet wispy moans left your lips. everything was overwhelming, and you were acutely aware of every touch on your skin. his tongue that would occasionally dart out to wet your skin (which he would later blow cool air on and make you shiver). his pillowy lips that danced over your body and left purple marks in their wake. his fingers that dug into your hips and tugged you impossibly closer to him, and snuck their way against your panty line to feel the soft material he’d yet to remove.

“pretty little tummy,” he said softly, gently kissing your stomach until you felt like the butterflies were going to eat you alive from the inside out. his menstruations were sinful, yet his words so pure and innocent.

something you had to remind yourself jaemin was far from.

every time he returned to your lips, you could feel his bulge rub against your clothed pussy and you wanted to scream; to grab hold of him and force him to do what you wanted- needed most.

yet you remained as patient as you could, your fingers drumming idly against his shoulders as a form of distraction.

“you know how long i’ve wanted you, cherry blossom?”

the name seemed so sweet prior, now it was laced with something more. something dark and lustful- something you were beginning to like.

you shook your head in response to his question, feelings his lips attach to the skin of your neck. you leaned your head back and allowed access. with his new angle, he began to nip and bite at your neck, taking your breath away.

“so long,” he nearly whined, pressing himself against you, “can i show you?”

“please…” you cried, grabbing him by his paint-stained shirt and taking his lips with your own greed.

you were grateful you had kissed him, you really were. because the boy was faster than you ever imagined he could be, swiping down your underwear with one swift, easy pull. his pants took a bit longer to free him from, but once he finally did, you had never been more excited for something in your life.

with all of his sweet gestures and his prior praise, your body was practically begging for him. arousal pooled in the underwear that lay discarded in the far corner of the room, and it took moments for jaemin to swipe his hard member against your pussy to gather your wetness.

his fingers played with your opening, slowly easing in and out in the hopes of preparing you for him- and damn was he glad he did, because the string of unending noises you let out in response was nothing short of music to his ears.

“need you,” you whimpered, biting back a moan. “please.”

with that begging look in your eye, who was he to say no? he kissed you hard, passionately, roughly- something you’d always dreamed of, and yet, it paled in comparison to the real thing.

and finally, with a strangled groan, did jaemin slip inside your heat.

what a dream come true.

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