I'm forcefully removing these historical characters from your grasp until you learn to distinguish fictional representations of historical figures in a television show from the real historical figures.
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People who write rottmnt Leo preforming surgery on his family members w relative ease have obs not researched into doctors treating their family members n what medical procedures usually entail hfhdbufn
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Beautiful
🕷️ kinktober — day 24: praise kink🕸️
pairing: jaehyun (nct) + reader (g/n *)
genre: non-idol!au, smut, fluff
warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, explicit smut, praise, dry humping, unprotected sex, penetration, sloppy making out, couch sex, creampie, (* i did mark this as a gender neutral fic but the reader is described as wearing a dress so yeah just wanted to include that! *)
word count: ~1k
synopsis: your bf is upset that no one at the costume party you went to recognized your cosumtes 💔
posted: october 28, 2023
kinktober masterlist
“Baby, don’t be like that.”
Your boyfriend shook his head, trudging into your house with heavy, sad steps before plopping onto the couch. You held back a chuckle at his overdramatic pout and crossed arms. He was currently upset because you two had gone to a Halloween party, dressed up as the 1996 version of Romeo and Juliet from the Baz Luhrmann movie. Jaehyun was the one who had came up with the idea, and he was really excited when your costumes came out fairly accurate to the film. However, he was devastated all throughout the night when partygoer after partygoer failed to pinpoint the characters you were portraying.
“Our costumes were dumb,” he sulked, picking up the TV remote in hopes of distracting himself with whatever show was on.
“They were not dumb,” you assured him, “They’re cute! And it’s not like no one knew who we were. Johnny and Mark knew!”
“I told Mark what costumers we were doing, and Johnny was the one who went shopping with me,” he retorted, the furrow in his brow only deepening as he continued to be upset. “Everyone thought I was a tourist.”
“Well, I think our costumes were amazing. It’s not our fault nobody in the room has good taste in movies like you,” you tried to make him feel better, and as the down-turned front of his eyebrow lifted, you thought it might be working, “Honestly, I’d rather have a great costume that no one recognizes than be the hundredth Harley Quinn and Joker couple.”
He laughed softly at that, “They did have a lot of those. That movie came out years ago.”
“And how many Romeo and Juliets were there?”
“None,” he replied, a satisfied smile on his lips. He looked up at you, and he reached his hand out for yours, holding it, “Thanks, ________.”
“Don’t beat yourself up, Jae. Besides, I think you look really hot in this outfit,” you confessed, your other hand reaching up to the collar of his Hawaiian print shirt. Your fingers fiddled with the top button, and neither of you seemed fazed when it just so happened to pop open.
“Yeah?” he asked, eyes now trained on the plump of your lips, the remnants of your lip gloss still making them shiny.
“Yeah.”
“You look gorgeous too. I like this little halo,” he further proved his point by nudging the halo headband above your head with his finger, making it wobble. You giggled along with him, and then his hand was on your cheek, pulling you in for a kiss.
The kiss turned hot and heavy in moments; suddenly you were straddling his lap. His hands found purchase on your ass and thighs, fingers gripping onto you and sliding the already short hem of your dress up. Low groans of gratification and wanton whines were muffled through your tongues and lips. Your hips shifted rhythmically over your boyfriend’s, emitting deep, guttural moans from his throat.
“Fuck yes, just like that,” Jaehyun spoke through gritted teeth when you grinded down on him and trailed open-mouthed kisses down his neck. Usually he would warn you about making hickeys, but right now he couldn’t find it in himself to care about that.
After a little more grinding and passionate, messy kissing, Jaehyun managed to get both of your underwear off and push his jeans down to the floor. You were going to straddle him again, but he maneuvered you so that you were lying on the couch. You let out a small whine about your halo bending before tugging it off and tossing it onto the floor. He hovered above you, pushing your leg up so that he could fit better between your thighs.
You sucked in a quick breath as he thrusted slowly into you for the first time, while he simultaneously let out a sigh that resembled a curse word you couldn’t quite make out. He had his head buried in your neck, hot breath making your collarbone warm.
“I’ll never get over how good you feel,” he said, “Every single time . . . is better than the last.”
You moaned, your hands wandering under the loose-fitting Hawaiian shirt he wore. It was hanging on by only a few buttons now, so you made quick work of unfastening them and tugging the shirt off of him completely while his thrusts never faltered, “Jae.”
“I know” when he didn’t get a response he said, “You keep squeezing me like that and I’m gonna cum. You want that?”
You couldn’t think of any words in the moment, too overwhelmed with your looming orgasm, so you simply nodded. He rested his forehead against yours, and as if on cue, you clenched down on his throbbing cock.
“Shit, ________,” he cursed, eyes screwing shut. His thrusts became deeper and a little faster; he moved with purpose, “You feel so good. Smell so good. Look so good. Fuck, you look beautiful. I don’t tell you that enough.”
“Jae,” you finally broke your silence, “Please.”
Finally, he shut up and focused on what he was doing. He drove his hips into yours with ardor. He littered kisses over your face, ending with your mouth where he drew you into another sloppy kiss. It was sloppy in the sense that it was full of tongues and teeth, but also because your mouth was parted for loud whimpers.
Jaehyun’s movements stuttered, and his grip on the couch tightened beside you, “Holy fu- I’m cumming.”
“I’m cumming,” he repeated, his words coming out broken up and whiney.
Spurts of his cum filled you up. Your leg hiked higher up on his hip. Your hands grasped onto his back, fingernails clawing at him as you felt your orgasm about to crash down on you.
“That’s it, fucking cum for me. Come on, baby,” even in the aftershocks of his own release, he urged you to chase your own, “You look so pretty when you cum, baby. Do it.”
So you did. You came with an exclamation of your boyfriend’s name as the familiar, orgasmic sense of euphoria settled over you.
“God, you look . . . so. Fucking. Beautiful.”
— taglist #1
@jaylaxies @xiaoting999 @kookthief @zaddywilk @wonrangwoo @pedriswrld @ikykleeknowww @odisdad @abby-grace @jungwonloveer @pinklemonadeflav @celestialplatinum @luvkpopp @nlklstan @kisses4denji @jenos-eye-smiles @a-l-i-y-a @channiesprincess @bekah931215 @heerinnie @fairygirl18 @cinnikoi @im-ur-calico-cat @unlikelysublimekryptonite @k-drizzle @iguanas-world
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hours || jjk
⇝ title: hours
⇝ pairing: jungkook x f!reader
⇝ genre: humor, i think? | neighbors to lovers | smut | implied unestablished relationship to established relationship
⇝ summary: You walk across the hall and visit your neighbor Jungkook every Wednesday to drink, chill, sing some karaoke… watch some Netflix. But you always end up wobbling back to your apartment after hours of doing all kind of unholy things. Not tonight.
⇝ rating: 18+
⇝ word count: 3k
⇝ warnings: alcohol consumption | strong language | they’re both kind of bratty but cute | mentions birth control | pussy eating | edging | fingering | unprotected sex | pull out method | cervix touching/bulging | jungkook has a lip piercing and a septum piercing | uhh he puts his nose in her coochie lol | light tit slapping | teasing | throat grabbing | dirty talk | hairstyling (wink, wink) | missionary | cum shots | squirting | slight dom!jk | nipple sucking | breath play | crying | ass worshiping | aftercare | bam makes an appearance | naked jk… yes this is a warning and you will see why | i brought up BTR, i need to apologize immediately for that | discussions about relationships | i think that’s all
⇝ author’s note: she’s here, bitches!!!! lol thank you @m1sss1mp and @monvante for putting posters of this man all over my blog. this fic is for the both of you. thank you so much for holding my hand through it all. thank you @baljinciaga for beta’ing and screaming in the comments because you gave me the confidence to post this lol. listen, i’m rusty with the smut y’all so i apologize if it’s a mess. anyway, i hope you enjoy. this has been beta’d but there’s still probably some errors since i changed some things after it was beta read.
masterlist | permanent taglist form | read on ao3
drabbles: the unholy drabble | nails drabble | keeps
“So are you spending the night or…?”
Jungkook props himself on his elbow so he can see you. He uses his fingers to comb some hair away from his face, revealing his flushed cheeks and a horseshoe septum piercing. Ask yourself how many rounds you’ve gone, and you wouldn’t be able to give an accurate answer.
You came over at six, had a beer, did some karaoke, showed him some shit you learned in twerk class, and as some as the Netflix intro came through the tv speakers, your clothes were scattered all over his apartment and your ass was in the air while Jungkook fucked up your guts.
This is kind of a Wednesday night routine for you two. Has been for a few months. You’re just vibing and having fun with your hot neighbor, nothing serious yet. Right?
“As much as I’d like to stay—”
“Pussy.”
Your mouth falls open.
“Excuse me?”
He giggles until you reach for his hair and tug on his strands. You slide closer, trying to intimidate him but he keeps teasing.
“You’re pussy. You’re tapping out,” he repeats.
You scoff. “Boy, I’ve never tapped out a day in my life. Get the fuck out of here.”
Your thumb wipes the little smirk off of his face, but it returns seconds later.
“Your dick isn’t that good. Humble yourself,” you joke.
His cocky ass knows you’re dickmatized, but you still won’t admit it.
“Whatever. You know I’ve been holding back.”
“And who told you to do that?”
“You,” he answers. “Oh, Jungkook! Please, I’ll come!”
You smack his ink-covered arm drawing a chuckle from his lips.
“You’re so full of shit, Jungkook. Okay, let’s fuck again, and don’t hold back this time,” you request.
Jungkook begins shaking his head, laughing at your persistence.
“Love, the only one getting that kind of dick is my girl so…”
“So what are you trying to say?” you ask.
He shrugs. “You tell me. You know I’ve been trying to see about that.”
An eye roll from you follows his statement. “Whatever, I’ve already let you know how it is.”
“Yeah, but I wanna hear you say when you’re not stuffed with cock,” he gripes.
“Well, come here then. I’ll say it in your ear.”
You call him over using your finger, but he doesn’t move.
“You don’t know what you’re doing to me, love.”
You throw the covers off of both of you, kicking the comforter until your legs are free. Jungkook doesn’t move initially when you spread your legs. He stays in a sitting position, letting his hair fall in his face while he smiles menacingly. His Calvin Klein’s hug his thick thighs, creating creases in his flesh.
“Well, show. Teach me. Make me aware,” you tease, using your foot to caress his calf.
“Careful, baby.”
His throat growls those words, his voice dropping octaves so low your pussy clenches.
“Why? Tired, hm?”
“You know that’s not it,” he chuckles.
You’d be lying if you didn’t admit your pussy gets wet just looking at him. Imagine being hot inside and out. That’s Jungkook. A gentleman, and the cutest weirdo immediately after. The sex is just the cherry on top.
You two just clicked, and the rest is history. Whether you need someone to act an absolute clown with or someone to fuck your brains out, Jungkook is that guy. You can’t keep your hands off of him, and he can never resist the chance to slide his dick in you.
“I don’t. So make me understand.”
“Ai yi yi,” he sighs. Then he looks at you and shakes his head. “...so much attitude.”
“Fix it for me.”
Jungkook nods then swiftly pounces on you. You start giggling, knowing you’ve struck a nerve.
“You’re pushing it, you know.”
“I don’t care,” you retort.
Jungkook smirks. “Oh, you will.”
He lowers his body, leveling his face with your pussy. You can feel small puffs of air leave his lips and come in contact with your center.
Jungkook brings two of his fingers to your entrance and prods teasingly, getting you riled up almost instantly. You grip the sheets and lift your lower body off the bed to chase his digits, but he doesn’t push in.
“Still wet for me?” he asks. Jungkook spreads your folds to examine your arousal, looking at you when he discovers that you’re soaking. “Damn, you are.”
The sound of your slick as your opening widens makes your cheeks burn with shame. You turn away, but Jungkook doesn’t like that.
“Uh, uh. You wanna get fucked, you gotta watch,” he says.
Reluctantly, you give him your attention and you immediately regret looking away. His messy hair and puffy eyes give you butterflies as you wait for his next move. You almost forget about how close his face is to your cunt.
Jungkook’s fingers slowly slip into your pussy. You gasp while they sink deep into your crevice. He knows the exact route and the perfect arch in which he must curl them to make your body quiver with pleasure.
Hearing your arousal filling the room entices both of you and Jungkook becomes eager to pick up the pace. Your hips buck and move in a circular motion to match his movements, creating a familiar build-up of pressure within your core. The sheets below you start to dampen from the juices dripping down your center.
“You’re so hot,” he whispers before he kisses your clit. “And you taste so good.”
Jungkook makes out with your bundle of nerves while his fingers pump in and out of your opening. His hair covers his face, much to your disappointment, so you gather it all and keep it contained in a makeshift ponytail.
Now that his face is visible, you can see the way his tongue swipes your pussy each time his lips part. You moan his name, swelling him with so much pride he can’t help but smile briefly. His fingers slide out of you but only so he can kiss lower and fuck you with his tongue.
The deeper he enters, the more pressure his nose places on your throbbing clit. His septum piercing tickles your center as he rubs his face in your pussy, creating a pleasant sensation that penetrates your core.
Quickly, you lose control over everything. You can feel your stomach tightening, hear your moans getting louder, smell the desire growing stronger but you’re unable to grasp the one thing you so desperately want. It’s so close, but then, Jungkook snatches it away.
“Fuck, you asshole!”
Jungkook suddenly stops just as you’re reaching your peak. He withdraws and leaves you a whining mess while he laughs.
“Oh, now I’m an asshole?” His smirk never fades while he removes his underwear and tosses them on the floor. “I think I’m a gentleman.”
He looks over at the nightstand and sighs defeatedly.
“Fuck, man.”
“What?”
“Out of condoms,” he mumbles. “I’m sorry.”
You shrug. “It’s fine. I’m on the pill. We’re good.”
“Are you sure? I can just finish—”
“No, just pull out, dude. I wanna get fucked,” you insist.
“Well, yes ma’am. You don’t have to tell me twice.”
Jungkook hooks his arms under your thighs and pulls you on his lap. He keeps one hand underneath your thigh while the other one grabs his dick. You prop yourself on your elbows and watch as he strokes his cock a few times, using your arousal for lubrication before he aligns with your center.
The tip probes your entrance until it’s nestled inside and he no longer needs to hold his shaft. He redirects his attention to your clit, and he massages your bud as he buries his cock inside of you.
“Shit!”
Your back arches and your fist punch the bed. Inch by inch he fills your pussy until he can’t fit any more of himself inside of you. The fullness you feel from his girth leaves you breathless and panting.
“Still so tight,” he whispers. “...feels so good.”
Jungkook hovers over you when you lie down again and kisses you, leaving the taste of your pussy on your lips. His tongue slips into your mouth and arousal coats your tastebuds. Your moans are muffled but are still clearly heard. His name escapes your lips repeatedly as you beg him to fuck you.
“Ready?”
You nod. “Yeah.”
Another kiss graces your lips and then another for your chest. He moves to your breast and does the same to your nipples, but envelopes the right one between his lips and suckles it tenderly. Your arms wrap around him to bring him closer as he starts nibbling your sensitive bud with his teeth.
He starts to move, setting a pace that has your toes curling instantly. You bury your face in his dark strands and beg him to keep going.
“Jungkook, please don’t stop. It’s so good.”
“I’m not,” he promises, sending waves of vibrations through your areola. His mouth feels so warm and moist against your skin. Hair raises along your flesh caused by both the chill of the room and Jungkook’s gentle touch. It’s a contrast from the way he roughly thrusts inside of you, but it’s the kind of fire and ice that has your body yearning for more.
As if he can read your body language, he changes his position. A lewd noise pierces your ears when his lips release your stiffened nipple. The cold air makes your skin tingle due to the sensitivity and the presence of his saliva.
Jungkook wraps his hand around your throat, forcing you to keep your eyes on him. His fingers comb his hair away from his face, revealing his flushed face, his pierced lip tucked between his teeth. The intimacy of the moment intensifies the pleasure growing inside of you, and your watery eyes begin to produce thick salty droplets.
“Feel good, baby?” Jungkook quizzes. “Does it really feel that good?”
“Yes, Jungkook. It…”
Your voice is so weak and raspy. You have difficulty speaking clearly, and articulating your sentences. Jungkook is very displeased.
“Speak up,” he requests. He slaps your tits, leaving you trembling and hanging on by a thread. Your pussy clenches around him, and he responds by squeezing your throat. “You feel that?”
You croak out a response. The best you can with your airways being constricted.
“Good,” he grunts. “That’s how my dick feels inside this tight fucking pussy.”
He loosens his grip and air finally refills your lungs, making you lightheaded. Your head starts spinning, your vision becomes blurry, and slowly the familiar feeling begins to form within your gut. Grabbing Jungkook’s arm, you try to warn him, but you are immediately dismissed.
“Nope. I’m not done.”
Jungkook opens your legs wider and his thrusts deepen. It’s like he’s trying to fit his entire dick inside of you, but each time he runs out of room.
You can feel him entering your guts over and over. The blunt outline of his cock is faintly visible whenever it lodges itself in your womb. Your muscles clench tightly as you try your hardest to keep it together.
One thing’s for certain, he has been holding back. Now you’re addicted to this new side of him, and there’s no other way you want him to fuck you. It feels like no experience you’ve ever had; you can’t get enough, but your body can only take so much before you lose control.
“Ah, shit! You’re fucking tight.” Sweat drips from Jungkook’s forehead as he struggles to hang on. He’s drawing this out; savoring the moment just like you are, but both of you are nearing your peaks, and it’s only moments before you topple over the edge. “I want this forever.”
“You have it, though. I’m not going anywhere,” you promise. “I’m yours.”
“Oh, fuck.”
Jungkook’s movements stutter when he hears your voice speaking to him through your soft moans. Your words are like a match igniting a flame deep inside of him. He begins fucking you harder, like he’s on a mission to ruin you.
“Shit. Come on my dick, baby,” he moans, probably waking the neighbors. “Make a mess.”
At his command, your body gives in and chases the pleasure it’s been longing for. You scream his name like it’s the only word you know. Your soul leaves you lying on the bed and elevates to the ceiling, probably even further. You tremble and shake beneath him as the coil snaps inside of you, sending ripples of pleasure shooting through your veins.
Your arousal gushes out of you with enough force to push Jungkook’s dick out of you. He slaps your pussy repeatedly, milking you dry while he strokes his shaft. As you lay there, squirting out the last of your orgasm, you slowly return to your body, but you’re still basking in your post-sex daze.
“Flip over.”
Jungkook turns you on your stomach and straddles your thighs. He strokes his cock while he stares at your ass, still tender from all the spanking he did early. He slaps it with enough force to get a muffled moan out of you. Your head remains buried in the pillow because your body refuses to move an inch.
“Softest fucking ass on the planet,” he mumbles. “And all mine.”
You relax under his touch as his large hand begins to massage your flesh. You become more exhausted as the seconds tick by. Jungkook’s pants and moans fill your ears as he chases his high, and soon his breaths become shallower, indicating that he’s approaching his release.
“Fuck.”
Moments later warm droplets of his cum paint your ass while Jungkook cries your name. He plops on top of you, careful not to use all of his weight, and leaves kisses along your shoulder. When his breathing settles, he gets up and finds a shirt to clean your body. He covers you with the blanket when he’s done so you aren’t cold.
“Are you still with me?” he asks, and you giggle.
“I’m here.”
“Well, I wish you’d say something.”
When you turn your head in his direction, you find him standing there in all of his naked glory, his dick slowly deflating, but still standing at attention while he chugs down his leftover beer.
“Maybe you should drink some water,” you suggest.
He puts the mug down and raises a finger. “You’re absolutely right. I’ll be back.”
When Jungkook leaves, the door remains open and someone else enters the room moments later. You don’t even flinch when Bam jumps on the bed, claiming his spot at the end. You’re just glad he’s finally warmed up to you. At first, you think he was a little jealous, but you guess he realized that with you in the picture, he receives two times the love and attention.
Jungkook’s footsteps make their way down the hall and he’s shocked by the sight of his pup lying beside you when he enters the room.
“I see you two have finally become friends,” he points out. He walks over to the bed and gives Bam some love while he whispers to him. “Don’t steal my girl, dude.”
You giggle and shake your head, as if Bam would ever leave his side. You’ve noticed that he has been more drawn to you lately, but you think it’s just him getting used to you being around. He knows you aren’t going to steal his dad from him, so now he’s more open to spending time with you.
“Did you bring me some water?”
Jungkook nods. “Of course.”
He gives you the water bottle and you sit up so you can drink some. Jungkook sits beside you and waits for you to finish.
You know he’s about to ask you something, so you quickly gulp down your water to get it over and done with.
On cue, he speaks.
“You still haven’t given me an answer.”
“Ah,” you sigh. “I don’t know, Jungkook.”
“That’s not an answer. I mean no is fine, but I just wanted some kind of idea about where this is going,” he states.
You’ve thought about it, and dating Jungkook isn’t a bad idea. You’re just nervous because this is going so well and you don’t want to mess it up. However, the advice your friend gave you a week ago still plays in your mind.
“If you really need more time, it’s fine but I feel like you’ve been holding back too. I want you in my life, Bam wants you to be his mom, and—”
“Jungkook,” you interrupt, fighting back a smile, but you fail.
“What is it?”
You set your water on the nightstand and grab his hand. You absentmindedly trace his tattoos, while you talk to him.
“I’m nervous because I don’t want this ‘honeymoon’ phase to end,” you start. You can see his shoulders droop because he thinks this is bad news. However, it's not. “But every day we grow closer, so why should I let my mind prevent my heart from being happy?”
“You are so fucking trashed,” he blurts out. “Did I really fuck you that good?”
“Jungkook shut the fuck up. I was trying to be deep. Leave me alone.”
You try to turn away and go to bed but he pulls you on his lap.
“Hey, I’m kidding. That was cute,” he says. “I got it. You like me, and I like you. Let’s just continue to take it slow.”
“Thanks.”
“Mhm. But just so we’re clear, you’re my girlfriend now by default because we just… Well, you know.”
“I’ll be that,” you reply. “As long as you’re my… boy boy b-b-b-b-b-boyfriend.”
When Jungkook rolls his eyes, you erupt with laughter, knowing he doesn’t want to admit he likes BTR.
“Whatever, go to sleep.”
“In my bed, or yours?” you ask.
“Don’t start.”
You both snuggle together on the dry side of the bed while Bam snores peacefully at your feet. Jungkook hugs you from behind and the two of you slowly drift off to sleep.
“Goodnight,” you whisper.
But your boyfriend has already tapped out. Looks like you’re the real champ around here.
thank you for reading! if you enjoyed this story, please consider reblogging and/or leaving feedback.
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I’ve been seeing so much ex husband price stuff on here and it’s making me drool. So I’m contributing some ex husband/not divorced yet but taking a break for vague reasons but you both still deeply love each other TF 141….Also this is sappy, dramatic and not accurate character portrayal—just let me live in denial!
“Johnathan, it’s 1 am.” You groaned, trying to rub the sleep from your eyes.
“Go back to bed, Honey.” He muttered back quickly. You shot him a glare at the term of endearment. He was balancing a flashlight between his teeth, his back mostly turned to you.
“Are you fixing that window?” You questioned, turning on the overhead light. He must’ve not wanted to wake you. He took the flashlight out of his mouth, looking over his shoulder at you. His chest swelled at the sight of you in one of his shirts. It took every ounce of self restraint not to wrap you up in his arms. “I told you over the phone I hired someone to come and fix it.” You yawned.
“And have some stranger traipsing through the house.” He huffed. You watched as his arms flexed at even the slightest movements. You hated these moments of weakness. It was the same reason why you couldn’t fall asleep unless you were wearing one of his shirts. Or the same reason you would light a cigar like it was incense. The same reason why you always answered his daily calls. Then you’d remember why you wanted a divorce in the first place. It always felt like someone dumping cold water on you.
And thats exactly how you felt now.
“That’s not your problem anymore, John.” You reminded. His blood ran cold. Yet he kept up his unbothered appearance.
“Never a problem, Honey.” He assured, still keeping his back to you. You sighed running a hand over your face.
“I just- I don’t think it’s appropriate for you to just show up whenever you want. It’s my house right? That’s what you agreed to. It’s not just some motel you can show up at whenever you want to feel needed.” You spat. His body was still and ridged. His teeth ached from the tight clenching of his jaw and the pain in his chest was wince worthy.
“I know.” He said slowly. “I just want you to know I’ll always take care of you, Honey.” He began to turn towards you but stopped himself. He couldn’t stand to see the look on your face.
“I don’t need you to take care of me, John.” You continued. “I was able to survive before you and when you left me every other month.” You don’t know why you were being so forceful with him. Maybe it was because you hadn’t physically seen him in a few weeks.
“Well maybe I’m not doing it for you, hmm?” He shot back, finally facing you. His eyes were just as red the day you walked out of the lawyers office. “You made your decision, but that doesn’t mean you just stopped being the most important thing in my life. So yeah, I’m going to drop by if I feel I need to because I vowed to always take care of you and no fucking paper you make me sign is going to take that away from me. If you don’t like that you can get a restraining order.”
He didn’t even have a moment to catch his breath before your hands found their way to his shoulders, pulling him down for a kiss.
“Hey, Cap.” You smiled into your phone. Calls from Price were kinda common- he just liked to check up on you here and there, but you could tell by the sigh on the other end this wasn’t going to be about you.
“Hey, Kiddo.” He started. “I catch you at a good time?” He questioned.
“Yeah, just watching TV. Everything alright?” You questioned back. There was another sigh on his end, and it sounded like he was taking a drag of his cigar.
“No one’s hurt.” He was trying to pick his words carefully. “It’s ’bout Simon, though.”
“Okay.” You responded slowly. Just the mention of Simon’s name had a small tremor rise in your body. It’s not like you had gone no-contact with him. He called you a few times a week just to ask if you needed anything, if anything in the flat needed to be fixed, or just to make sure you locked all the windows before going to sleep. “You’re building up a lot of suspense here, Cap.” You offered a fake chuckle.
“Sorry.” He paused again and you wanted to rip your hair out. “He’s just- I know it’s really none of my business what happened between the two of you but he’s not doing good, Love.”
“What do you mean?”
“He’s doing fine work-wise. But I’m worried about him personally. He’s droppin’ weight, smoking a couple packs a day, drinkin’ when he knows he’s not suppose to be. When he’s not doing that he just sits and stares. Johnny has to check his pulse sometimes.” It was his turn to offer you a chuckle. Another pause and drag. A few fat tears rolled down your cheeks and Price ran a hand over his face when he heard you sniffle. “I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this, but I also know you would get after me if I didn’t. Now you don’t owe him anything, but I think just a call from you would help him out a lot.”
“You think he’s doing this because of me?” You whispered.
“Course.” Price responded immediately. He cringed at himself. “What I mean to say is, you’re that man’s ‘reason.’ You get what I’m saying? Men like me and him need a reason. A reason to come home. A reason to be better. A reason to just get our asses out of bed at the crack of dawn. Like I said you don’t owe him anything, Kiddo, but I think just hearing your voice would do him some good.”
“Thank you, Price. For looking out for him and me.” You said sincerely.
“It’s what I get paid for.” He shot back with a laugh. You rolled your eyes, pressing the big red button after a ‘goodbye’. Your swollen eyes raked over the wedding photos you still had hanging in the living room. You couldn’t not call him. You wondered how long he’d been acting like this. Had he been doing it the whole time you had been separated? You rubbed at your eyes working up the courage to press his contact in your phone.
It only rang once before he answered.
“You alright?” He asked quickly.
“Yeah.” You replied, taking a deep breath. “Just calling to check in.” You said slowly. You heard him breathe a sigh of relief.
“Checkin’ in on me?” He repeated. Your heart ached at the thought that he seemed to think you didn’t care about him.
“That okay?” You urged. He hummed in agreement. “If your busy I can call bac”-
“Not busy.” He cut off. “What’ve you been up to?” You heard some shuffling and it sounded like he was getting into bed. You wondered what time it was wherever he was in the world.
“Nothing too interesting. I got a new cat! She’s an older tabby who’s seen some things, but she’s a Sweetheart.” You rambled on smiling.
“She probably thinks she’s in heaven with you.” He snickered. You giggled at his words and his eyes shut tightly trying to soak up every second of it.
“Simon, is there anyway when you get back you could help me move in a new cat tower? They’re all fighting over the one we have.” Using the word ‘we’ had just become habit when talking to Simon. You didn’t even realize you had said it. But you using that word was all the ‘reason’ he needed.
“Of course. I’ll be home Wednesday. That work for you?” His heart was beating out of his chest like it did the very first time he asked you out on a date.
“That’s perfect. I’ll see you then, Si.”
*inaccurate medical rules*
Your leg bounced up and down nervously, your eyes about to burn a hole in the pale blue curtain. You were in an accident- not a major one, but you did receive a concussion.
Johnny was still your emergency contact and according to the nurses he was more than willing to pick you up.
“He’s not entirely my husband.” You began. The nurse raised his eyes from the clipboard for a split second before shrugging.
“Says it in your file and he’s still your emergency contact. He’s already on his way, but do you have anyone else we could call?” His tone was bored and you wondered how many times he had to have this conversation a day. You slowly shook your head. “Well we can’t just let you leave by yourself.” He sighed.
“I know, but I filed for divorce. He just refuses to sign it. Doesn’t that count for anything?” You pleaded. The nurse gave you a sour look.
“I can change your emergency contact so in future accidents he won’t be contacted.” You furrowed your brows at his choice of words.
“Hopefully there won’t be anymore accidents.” Your body stiffened at the all too familiar voice. The curtain was drawn back revealing your husband. He gave you a soft smile and you hated the way it settled your stomach.
“Yeah right, so change your emergency contact or no?” The nurse piqued up. You shut your eyes tightly, shaking your head side to side. You wished the floor would swallow you. The nurse looked between you and Johnny before giving you two some privacy.
“I’m sorry about all this, John.” You sighed standing up. “They wouldn’t let me leave without someone signing for me. If you could just walk me out, I can call an Uber.”
“John?” He repeated, in a whisper. It was probably just intended for himself. His chest tightened. No nicknames. He partly hoped that this experience would’ve softened you. Made you happy to be alive. Make you want to wrap your arms around him and call off the whole ‘divorce’ thing. He can picture all the times you sprawled out on his chest, whispering into his skin how safe you felt with him. Now here you were inching yourself away from him like he would ever hurt you. “I’d rather take you home.” He pressed.
“It’s seriously okay John”-
“Enough with the formalities.” He snipped. Your eyes widened and he groaned at his mistake. “You’re discounting everything we’ve been through together. Treating me like some stranger.” He growled out.
“Well what am I suppose to do? Hmm? You want me to call you ‘Mac’ again. Or any of the other ridiculous nicknames I made up for you? Well I’m not going to do that! You were good to me for so many years, Johnny- please don’t think I have forgotten that. But this last year it’s like I haven’t even existed to you. You’re taking every single job that is thrown your way like you don’t even want to be with me anyone, so I’m just doing what you do obviously want but aren’t going to say.” Your voice shook and tears dropped from your eyes, but you held your ground. His jaw clenched tightly, his eyes red from holding back what you had already given up hiding.
“You think I want this? I”-
“Hey, as much as this has been the highlight of my week, we actually need your bed back.” The nurse interrupted, peaking his head through the curtains. Your flushed but nodded your head in understanding. Johnny was hot on your trail following you out. The cold air felt nice against your heated body and you turned to Johnny waiting for him to make the first step.
“I’m sorry for gettin’ on you in there.” He sighed. He shifted on his feet. “I just miss you.” His eyes refused to meet yours knowing it would cause him to break. He opened and closed his mouth trying to find the words to how desperately he wanted you in his life.
“For a man who loves to talk you sure are having a hard time.” You sniffled, wiping at your still streaming eyes.
That was all he needed to let it out. It was sloppy and unfiltered, but yet it shattered your world and everything you thought you knew about the man and how he felt about you.
You saw him at the store. It wasn’t the first time you had run into him- actually you two seemed to be bumping into each other all over the place. And without hesitation every single time he would flee the scene like you were some bully from high school he ran into. The same thing happened tonight. You both turned into the same aisle, stared at each other for a moment, then he dropped his basket and charged out the door.
You had already made up your mind weren’t going to let him go this easy.
You rushed after him, at a speed walk pace.
“Kyle!” You shouted after him in the parking lot. He was just opening the door to his sleek black car, one of his feet inside already. He paused for a moment, before sliding into the drivers seat. You were able to grab the door handle before he shut it on you.
“What the fuck are you doing?!” He growled, beginning to tug the door back. Your hand gripped the car door and he quickly faltered not wanting to slam it shut on your fingers.
“Just let me talk, please?” You begged. Those same brown eyes that you had spent the best part of your life staring into bore coldly into yours. “I just- We keep running into each other. I just think it’s silly that we keep avoiding each other.”
“Not silly.” He shot back without missing a beat. “You don’t want me anymore, remember?” Your heart dropped.
“Ky, that’s not true”-
“Fucking save it, Y/N. You’re the one who wanted to take a break. Why don’t you just divorce me and get it over with already.” He spat. His face curled in a way that made you want to die.
“Is that what you want?” You asked quietly. He ran his hands up and down his face.
“I’m tired of your games, Lovie.” His voice held no warmth. “I want my partner back. The same person who I vowed to spend the rest of my life with. The same person I vowed to love and protect- but that person doesn’t even seem to be you anymore. I couldn’t imagine just cutting you out of my life the way you did to me. And the fact that you were able to do it fucking terrifies me. Just call me when you figure your shit out.”
He shut the door and you let him.
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silk and rope
the long awaited ddlg harry and yn pairing has finally arrived!!!
some general disclaimers: I've never been in a relationship like this myself nor have I experimented too much with proper bdsm techniques, so there may be some things that are wrong in this!!!! I did research and tried my best to make it as accurate as possible but pls don't come for me if something isn't right ok thank yoooouuuuuu!!!!!!!
word count: 10.6k
content warnings: daddy dom and sub/little yn relationship, big ol’ daddy kink, basically just a lot of smut (bondage, overstimulation, use of toys, dirty talk, f oral, penetration), discussions of subspace and crappy sexual experiences (nothing forced), yn in little/sub space
"Y/N, I just don't think this is working out anymore."
Normally, Y/N is able to see this coming.
In the past, she's had 20/20 hindsight, predicted when whatever man she was seeing — or rather, submitting to — had finally gotten bored of her, and been able to paste a smile on her face when it finally happened. She could bite her tongue hard enough to prevent the flush that would eventually warm her entire body with embarrassment, mumble out some nonsense response ("okay, that's fine, I appreciate the time we spent together", which was usually a lie anyway), give them a halfhearted hug and let them go.
Todd, however? The world's worst dominant? She seriously can't believe that Todd of all people is ending things.
Realistically, Y/N doesn't really care that Todd isn't interested in dominating her anymore. He was shit at aftercare and only paid attention to maintaining a sexual relationship, as opposed to an emotional one, too. (Y/N's profile specifically said that she was looking for a dominant inside and outside of the bedroom.) So, when it comes down to it, it's fine that Todd is putting a stop to their rather lackluster relationship, but Y/N is unprepared.
Typically, at this point, she already has a date with another dominant lined up for 24 hours from now. She's already talking to other people, listing out her hard limits and what she's looking for, maybe even switching her photos around to change things up after being on this god forsaken website for a year and a half.
And maybe she, too, was so unsatisfied with Todd that she wasn't paying enough attention to realize the end was coming.
But with her slightly squinted eyes and half-open jaw, it must seem that she's in some sort of immediate stage of heartbreak (she's not, she's just surprised), because Todd goes to sling his arm around her shoulders and presses a kiss to the side of her head.
"It's not you, babe, it's me," he says, and it makes Y/N want to elbow him in the ribs, "Really, you were great. Fantastic every time. Just think I'm looking for someone a little bit more... emotionally stable, y'know?"
That's what breaks Y/N out of her trance, so she quickly rises from her couch and wordlessly opens the front door.
"Thanks. You can go now."
With furrowed eyebrows, Todd stands up, as if he was expecting her to get down on her knees and grovel at his feet, begging him to stay.
"See, this is what I'm talking about, babe— one second you're all quiet and mousey, and the next you're trying to boss me around like I'm the submissive," he feens offense as he pulls his sneakers on, "I think you should probably get your brain together before you start seeing someone else, it's a real mindfuck."
"Okay," Y/N smiles tightly, gesturing outside to the chilly evening. "See you around, Todd."
The confused expression remains on Todd's face but thankfully, he leaves without another word. Y/N lets out a deep sigh as she shuts the door behind him and locks it up. She grabs one of the leftover muffins she made at work today, plops down on the couch, and turns on the TV to find a show to fall asleep to.
. . .
If Harry's being honest, the bar is the last place he wants to be right now.
And he would be at home if he hadn't blown his friends off for the past three weeks, and Claire hadn't stopped by his desk while he was packing his things up, threatening to kidnap him if he wasn't planning on attending this evening.
He feels bad, especially because he knows he has the tendency to prioritize work over his friends, so he shoots her a tight smile and tells her to lead the way.
So now he's at their usual booth in the corner, slowly nursing a lukewarm beer that he'd ordered an hour ago when they arrived. He's halfway listening to a story Lea is telling about her shitty on-again, off-again boyfriend, occasionally suppressing the urge to yawn. He glances down at the watch on his wrist to read the time and promises himself that he'll stay another 30 minutes before ducking out.
Truthfully, he's bored, and he's tired, and his bed is calling to him in a way that's almost painful. He occupies himself by people-watching, trying to guess who's on first dates or, like him and his friends, getting together for weekly drinks. It's only then that he zeroes in on her — Y/N, that is — sitting alone at the bar top, slightly hunched over as she taps on her phone, a glass of wine in the other hand.
Harry doesn't know Y/N that well. He knows that she went to college with Naomi, who started inviting her to things around a year ago, and now she's always just around. He's unsure if she actually likes any of them besides Naomi, though — she's quiet and introverted, which Harry respects and understands, but the one-on-one conversations they've had are few and far between.
But that's why his interest is piqued in the first place. He's never witnessed her sitting alone at the bar, and a twinge of concern fires through him as he watches her. He clears his throat and turns back to the table, unintentionally cutting Lea off.
"Is Y/N okay?" he asks, jabbing his thumb in the direction of the bar.
"What? I didn't even know she was here," Lea says as she peers over with a shrug, "Seems fine to me."
She continues on with her story and Harry rolls his eyes, grabbing his pint and striding over to where Y/N is sitting. He props himself up on the stool next to her and waves the bartender down, pointing to his glass.
"Hey, Y/N," Harry greets easily as his glass gets refilled. She looks up from her phone and immediately locks it, as if he's tearing her from some deep thinking, surprised that anyone would come to bother her in a busy pub. "How are you?"
With slightly parted lips, she looks a bit bewildered. "Um... I'm fine. How are you, Harry?"
He swallows, glancing down at the half-full glass of white wine she's drinking. He's never actually seen her drunk, despite near-weekly meetups at this pub. She seems tipsy, not fully under water, though decently buzzed.
"I'm good, thanks," he forces a smile onto his lips as an effort to seem as though he's not concerned for her wellbeing. "I saw you over here and realized I didn't even say hi to you."
Y/N shrugs. "I didn't really feel like socializing tonight. Naomi kind of dragged me here."
"Ah, Claire did the same to me," Harry replies understandingly, nodding his head, "Said she'd kidnap me if I didn't come out."
She scoffs at that before tilting the glass back towards her lips, taking another hearty gulp. He doesn't miss the thin wince she makes as the liquid touches her tongue, swallowing it down quickly.
"Is it 'cos you got broken up with, too?"
Harry's eyes widen at her question, but she's already looked past him, zoning out with a bleary look.
"Oh... I'm sorry, Y/N. Do you want to talk about it?"
He's not great at emotional conversations, especially with people he barely knows, but he supposes it's a decent explanation for why she's in this state. He's content with lending a shoulder to cry on, he decides, because he doubts Naomi had done the same.
"It wasn't really a breakup, it's fine," she mutters with a dismissive wave of her hand. "We weren't dating, is what I mean."
Although she attempts at some sort of explanation, Harry's still confused, but he nods as if he understands.
"Was it like a friends with benefits situation?" he guesses, and she shrugs noncommittally.
"Kind of."
"So it was complicated, then," Harry murmurs. He gets that — he's been there a thousand times over, and he understands the pain associated with those types of situations.
"It wasn't," she shakes her head, and now Harry knows she's just spewing out drunken nonsense, "He was my... dominant. Or tried to be. He was really fucking shitty at it."
Dominant?
The familiar word echoes through the chambers of Harry's mind. He's certainly not unacquainted with dominant and submissive dynamics, but he's shocked — more than, really — that Y/N refers to a typically taboo word in such a casual way. He chalks it up to the alcohol, but he's still surprised that Y/N even had a dominant to begin with.
"I met him on one of those stupid seeking arrangements websites, which honestly never produces good results," Y/N continues, making Harry's eyes widen even more. He's sure that she would never reveal this information to any of their mutual friends, let alone him of all people. "Every dom I've had from there has been... whatever. But he was particularly awful, and he just ended things out of nowhere. Normally I like to have someone else lined up, but... yeah."
Even in her alcohol-fueled state, Y/N realizes that she's rambling, providing far too many personal details to Harry, who she rarely talks to. She knows she'll be ridiculously embarrassed by the entire evening as soon as the wine drunk haze wears off, but for now, Harry's on the receiving end of her secrets.
Harry clears his throat and straightens his posture, sitting up a little taller. "Well, you said it yourself. Those sites are shitty, the dominants on there are usually just looking to experiment for the first time and they don't know what they're doing. The local BDSM community is your best bet... clubs and gatherings and such."
Y/N wrinkles her eyebrows and peers at Harry beside her. He's looking straight ahead and nibbling on his bottom lip, his hand firmly grasped around his glass. She doesn't know much about Harry besides the fact that he works at some large company with a relatively well-off position. He's gorgeous, of course, and has flings with people here and there but otherwise, her knowledge of what him is... well, almost non-existent.
It wasn't totally impossible — the likelihood that Harry, like Y/N, was involved in similar sexual dynamics. She wouldn't classify herself as part of the BDSM community, but perhaps it was because she'd never dove headfirst into learning about it outside of what she's interested in. She felt that what she looked for in a dominant was rather... specific.
"Do you... are you...?" Y/N doesn't quite know how to phrase the question, "are you a dom?" without sounding like a total creep, so she allows him to fill in the blanks. His throat bobs as he takes a sip of his beer, shrugging his shoulders tersely.
"Yeah," he finally answers. "Not very consistently, I guess, but I'll take on a sub a few times year. Usually for a few months."
She nods slowly, squinting her eyes a bit as she tries to picture it. She's not sure what type of dominant Harry is — whether he's sweet and soft, or tough and enjoys pushing his subs to their limit each and every time — but regardless, the mere thought of it is enough to make her squeeze her thighs.
"What about you?" he asks, shifting his position to face her. "It sounds like you go through doms kind of... quickly."
Y/N hums, "Kind of, I guess. I think I have kind of... like, particular needs, and not everyone is interested in it."
It's the most they've ever spoken to one another, and Harry doesn't even think before he's asking her what exactly she looks for in a dominant. He's immediately embarrassed — he doesn't know what made him question her so openly, but he can't help his curiosity.
She waves his slight exasperation off, clearly not offended by his press for details.
"Can I just ask that you don't tell anyone?" Y/N says, looking at the man sitting next to her. "It's like, a little embarrassing, and I've never told our friends about it. Not even Naomi."
"Of course," Harry quips. He's always been good at keeping those types of things under wraps — he didn't believe anyone had anything to gain by learning about someone's sexual interests.
"I... I guess I have some trauma stemming from childhood that I've worked through in recent years. It's not important to this, but I tend to look for dominants who fulfill more of a caretaker role. I like to be... taken care of. In certain ways."
Her cheeks flush as the words leave her mouth as he listens to her closely. He's not sure if he's reading between the lines, looking too far into her explanation, but he gets it. He thinks.
"So... a daddy dom?" Harry asks softly. Y/N rolls her lips into her mouth and nods curtly.
"That's nothing to be embarrassed about," he murmurs once he receives confirmation, "A lot of people like that type of relationship. I can understand why you'd be interested in it, especially if you have trauma."
She shrugs. "A lot of people think it's weird, too."
"Sure, but those aren't the people you should be seeking relationships out with," Harry replies easily, "What do you look for specifically? I'm sure we could find someone for you in the community."
Y/N lets a deep breath out, rolling her neck to each of her shoulders. She can't believe they're having this conversation in public, but she'd be lying if she said Harry wasn't easy to talk to. Plus, at the night went on, more people filed out of the bar considering it was a weekday.
"It's not necessarily age play I'm after, which I think a lot of people think is what I want," she explains, "Just like... a caregiver, I guess, that's there for me both in and out of the bedroom. I, um... on bad days, fall into a... headspace, and it's very difficult to navigate that on my own. If that makes sense."
"Makes perfect sense," Harry nods. "Are you looking for punishments and such?"
"Yeah." she breathes, nibbling at her lip as she crosses her legs, attempting to mitigate the dull throbbing in her core.
"Y/N, do you have my number?"
She swallows as she peers up at him through her eyelashes, shaking her head. He puts his hand out and she grabs her phone, placing it in his palm. He taps at the screen and she assumes he's putting his information in her contacts.
"Claire drove me here so I can't give you a ride home, but I'm gonna order you an Uber so you can head home," he murmurs lowly, handing her phone back to her. "Text me tomorrow. Can we get together after work?"
Y/N nods with slightly rounded eyes, making him smile gently. He realizes she must be more depraved than he thought if she's already slipping into her little space from an act as simple from that.
"Keep it together 'til you get home," Harry says with a quirked eyebrow, though embarrassment quickly washes over Y/N's body. He chuckles as she blushes, patting her thigh lightly. "I'll walk you out."
She grabs her bag and follows him out of the bar, welcoming the autumnal chill as it pimples her skin.
"Are you gonna slip on the way back?"
Y/N looks up to see Harry towering over her, a concerned expression on his face.
"N-no. I'm fine."
He continues analyzing her for a moment or two more before he finally nods once. "Okay. If you feel yourself getting there, call me."
"I won't. I promise."
Harry hums as a black sedan rolls up to the curb. He checks to make sure it's the correct license plate before guiding her to the car and holding the door open for her. She gets in the backseat and he nods at the driver, murmuring down at her, "seatbelt on."
She complies readily and he smiles, patting her head softly. "Message me when you get home. We'll talk tomorrow, okay?"
"Okay. Thank you, Harry."
20 minutes later when he receives a text from her stating that she's made it home safely, he already knows he'll do anything to be her dominant.
. . .
Harry half expects Y/N to pretend like last night ever happened.
He would understand it if she did. She was tipsy, revealing intimate details about her sexual preferences pertaining to BDSM. No one else from their friend group knew. It just ended up coming out for both of them — Harry doesn't parade his dominant role in the bedroom all around town, but if someone he knows asks, he's happy to admit to it and talk more about it. He's not ashamed by any means, but he can tell that Y/N is. She prefaced her explanation by stating that she has trauma — and really, who doesn't? — and hinted that dominants in the past have found her requests to be weird.
Harry doesn't think the whole daddy dom thing is strange. He understands it, especially pertaining to a psychological, healing level. He's never engaged in that sort of dynamic before, typically sticking to scratching the itch his submissives usually had, whether it be getting tossed around a little, orgasm denial, or being tied up. He was happy to do what made them happy, but he usually kept it in the bedroom.
The thought of taking up a caregiver role in Y/N's life made his spine tingle.
He's always been interested in her — not even in a romantic or sexual way, he's always just found her fascinating. She's quiet and shy, beautiful, and the definition of a wallflower. Naomi brought her in one day and she just never left. It's been a year since then and Harry doesn't think she's spoken more than 15 words to the others.
And so, with all of this knowledge under his belt, he spends his day at work worrying his bottom lip between his teeth and constantly unlocking his phone. When he gets home that evening, narrowly avoiding Claire's proposal at more social interaction, he's lost all hope, even though he did tell her to text him when she was finished with work. He's properly pouting as he sits on his couch, knees to his chest, when his phone lights up on the coffee table in front of him.
From: Y/N Y/L/N
hey harry:) first of all, im so sorry about last night. i was clearly having a tough day and i definitely took advantage of u being willing to chat with me, so im sorry if i revealed too much or took you away from everyone else.. i know u don't go out often and im really sorry if i ruined it
im also not sure if you still have interest in what we talked about last night w helping me find someone... its totally ok if you've changed ur mind or you were just drunk or whatever. again, i know i was being a lot so no worries!! sorry! just lmk :)
Harry's heart squeezes as he reads over her repeated apologies. In two texts, she said variations of "I'm sorry" four times. She thought she had ruined his night in some way when it was the complete opposite.
His thumbs hover over the screen as he thinks of a response. He's over the moon that she still decided to text him and that she'd avoiding the path of pretending nothing happened. In all honesty, he's unsure if he could live with himself when he had all those images and thoughts of her in his head, knowing that they'd just moved on from it.
Hey Y/N. Please don't apologize for last night, I had a really nice time talking to you. I'm definitely still interested. Are you available tonight?
She's quick in her reply, which makes him smile. He can imagine the way she's probably alternating between biting her lip and picking at the skin around her fingernails, both of which he assumed were nervous habits that he picked up on last night.
ok if you say so.. and yes im free! i was planning on ordering some takeout if ur interested, i don't really have any food here that isn't a baked good lol
Harry chuckles at that. Claire mentioned once that Y/N works at the bakery close to the park he does his morning jogs through. When he passes by at early sunrise, the windows are often illuminated with a warm glow, and he wonders if it's coming from her.
That's okay, I was planning on cooking if you'd like me to bring you some. I have ingredients for a stir fry. Would that be okay?
She replies with what he can only describe as a bashful but affirmative answer (only if you're sure!! but that sounds great!) and sends a second message with her address. He's beaming as he chops up vegetables and sautes them up rice noodles and homemade peanut sauce, indulging in the simple act of cooking for Y/N.
Last night, after he'd gotten home from the bar, he'd done some research on daddy dom relationships. He knew of them, but if he was going to offer being Y/N's, he wanted to ensure that he was knowledgable on anything she could want. He learned that there were many different facets of that type of dynamic, some of which he was comfortable with and some of which he wasn't. Like any other dominant and submissive relationship, hard and soft limits would be discussed, but this one, Harry realized, wouldn't just consist of kinks he had no interest in engaging in.
As he spoons the finished stir fry into a plastic container to take to Y/N's, his stomach brews with butterflies. He's never expressed interest in dominating someone he already knows in real life. Those relationships existed purely in the confides of the bedroom. It's a commitment, he understands, to engage in such an agreement with her.
So why isn't he scared?
. . .
"This is delicious, Harry," Y/N all but moans over her serving of stir fry, chopsticks in hand. He smiles before biting into a piece of broccoli coated in peanut sauce.
"I'm glad you like it. It's a go-to dish for me, especially on weekdays when I'm exhausted from work."
She hums, nodding thoughtfully as she chews. A temporary silence takes over as they eat, ended by Harry eventually clearing his throat and gently placing his bowl on the table.
"So, about finding you a dom," he says, and her eyes perk up slightly, as if she's an over-excited puppy. "I have a proposition."
"Oh, you found someone already?"
"Sort of," Harry answers vaguely, "I think— well, no, I know. I would be interested in taking that place."
Y/N raises her eyebrows. She sets her own bowl of food on the table and purses her lips as she chews the rest of the contents in her mouth.
"I don't think you want that." she says gently.
"Why?" he shoots back, a near immediate response, "I spent all night and day thinking about it. I do."
Y/N sighs, "Because it's more than just spanking me when I have an attitude with you or cooking me a meal. I can be a lot, Harry, and it's the reason why I've gone through so many dominants already."
"Has it ever occurred to you that maybe you go through so many because they're the problem?" Harry asks. "You lay it all out on the table, right? You tell them exactly what you're looking for. Everything you told me last night."
She nods.
"And they still agree. You tell them you want a dominant outside of the bedroom, too, that the 'daddy' role you're looking for is a caretaker," Harry continues, "So how does that make you the issue?"
"Because what I'm looking for is... unconventional," she fights back, convinced in her stance. "Guys think the whole daddy thing is hot until... until I actually need them."
"It's not unconventional, Y/N. I did a ton of research last night. There are a million sites explaining what a DDLG relationship is and what it can consist of. The things that go into it on both sides, but especially on the dominant's. I'm not saying I know everything about being one, but I've at least cared to learn."
Y/N sighs and rolls her lips into mouth. She'll admit, she's impressed. She's not sure any guy she's ever been with has done that.
"So... what would you want, then?" Y/N asks, her voice softened.
"Well, I definitely have limits, but it's mainly dependent on what you're interested in," Harry explains. She finds that he's far too nonchalant for his own good, and the casual nature of his tone makes her even more nervous.
"If you did some research then I'm sure you learned about the extents it can go to," she says thoughtfully and he nods, resting his chin in his palm, "I don't have a desire for the more extreme things. Diapers and pacifiers and all that."
"Okay."
She's taken aback by his lack of response — part of her expected some sort of "oh, thank god" — but she's starting to wonder if Harry just simply exists in a nonjudgmental space. One that she's very much not used to.
"I just want someone to take care of me," she eventually forced out, setting her gaze on her bare thighs, a pair of lavender sweatshorts hung around her hips. "I can be bratty both in bed and out. I like to be put in my place. I enjoy being teased and humiliated. I like punishments and being pushed to my limits, even if I give you a hard time about it. I've been described as a handful when I'm feeling... little."
Harry had read a decent amount about "little space" last night. He'd dominated some partners to the point of falling into subspace, but little space seemed to differ. With his base knowledge on submission, he was able to tell that she was slipping into hers last night, giving him the inkling that making decisions for her and taking away the guess work was something she liked.
"I'm sure you're not, but all of those things are fine by me," Harry replies easily, "What do you like when you're feeling little?"
"It depends on what put me there. If I had a bad day at work, I like a bath and you cooking for me... I get really touchy. If it happens from a sexual scenario, it can be quite difficult to pull me out. But I get really quiet... I'll be more pliable, allow you to throw me around. I'll usually cry, but if you're doing things correctly, they won't be bad tears. Just from overwhelm."
"What sexual scenarios put you there?"
She clears her throat, her tongue thick in her mouth. Thinking about these things is enough to make her slip, but she won't disclose that. At least not right now.
"A number of things... edging or orgasm denial, being tied up and gagged. Anal since it requires trust and prepping. Any type of punishment, but especially spanking."
Harry's nodding his head as she speaks, apparent that he's processing everything she's telling him. He's not surprised by anything, per se, considering he's open to different experiences and nothing seems undoable. It's as if he's making a mental list, adding a separate section to his brain with Y/N's name plastered over it, filing away the information.
"What about when you're not feeling little?" Harry proceeds with little befuddlement, "What does the ideal dominant look like for you then?"
"Um... still just loving and caring. I likely won't be as bratty. More... in control of myself, I suppose," Y/N murmurs in reflection. "I would still like to have scenes with you when I'm not in that headspace, if that's alright. I'm not sure if it would be crossing a boundary."
"Of course." he answers readily without a blink of doubt, "When I embark on a dominant and submissive relationship, I don't like to half-ass it. I don't think there's a point in only asking for me when you need me. You'll never find comfort in me when you're feeling small."
Her heart warms at that, flutters in her tummy making it difficult to hide the smile curling at her lips. She assumes that she should've guessed Harry would be good at this type of thing; she's witnessed how deeply he cares for people. Even when they barely knew each other, he always greeted Y/N like they'd known one another for years, asking about her job at the bakery (she doesn't even remember if she told him he worked at one) and what sweets they were creating nowadays.
She thinks Harry just has a way of making people feel special.
It's what makes her core tingle, squeezing her thighs together for a semblance of relief as she rolls her lips into her mouth. She can feel herself starting to dampen in her underwear and she glances down at Harry's lower half, peeking through her eyelashes to see if he has a growing bulge.
"Do you think we can do a scene tonight, maybe?" Y/N asks softly, glancing back up at his eyes.
Harry chuckles. "I take it you think I'd be a good fit for you then."
"Mhm."
"You're cute," he smirks and pinches her thigh lightly, "No scenes tonight though. I can come over tomorrow, but I want to properly feed you and make sure you're hydrated before we do anything."
Y/N nods as she nibbles on her bottom lip. If she's being honest, she wants nothing more than to crawl into Harry's lap, parting her thighs and grinding into him while he babbles dirty words into her ear. She's always found him attractive, but knowing that he's willing to cater to her own sexual desires lights a fire deep in her stomach.
"I'm gonna head home, but I'm looking forward to getting started with you," Harry says with a small smile, "Oh, one more thing — no touching yourself tonight."
Her eyes widen as he stands from the couch, ready to grovel; they haven't even begun doing anything yet and he's already telling her what to do—
"Y/N," Harry growls, reaching up to grab her face. He squishes her cheeks together and her pupils broaden, surprised by his sudden change in demeanor. "Nod if you understand."
She nods.
"Good girl. I'll text you when I'm coming over tomorrow. I'll bring you dinner again."
Again, she nods.
"Say 'thank you', Y/N."
"Thank you, daddy."
Harry's lips curl into a smirk, releasing his grasp. "Oh, we're gonna have fun together."
. . .
The next day, Y/N can't stop squirming.
It's to the point where her co-workers notice that she's jumpier than normal, clumsy in her icing and piping when she's normally spot-on and nearly perfect in her efforts. She hears from Harry a few times throughout the day — he texts her in the morning and during his lunch break, checking in to see how she's doing, and it makes her entire body swarm with butterflies. He asks if she's eating a proper lunch (she's not), scolds her for it (which she secretly enjoys), and then tells her he'll make her something for her to take to work tomorrow.
Thankfully, she doesn't have a closing shift today, so she's done at a little past 6 pm. It's to her surprise, though, when she's peeling off her flour-coated apron, she spots Harry standing outside the bakery, a cozy cardigan and a graphic t-shirt covering his body.
Y/N has to do a double take. He didn't say anything about meeting her at work this evening, but he has to be here for her, doesn't he?
After sliding her jacket on and grabbing her tote bag, she exits the bakery, closing the glass door behind her gingerly. Harry turns, his eyes lighting up when he sees her.
"Hey," he greets with a grin, "Have a good day at work?"
"Um, yeah, it was alright. Sorry, did we say you would pick me up? I must've forgotten—"
"Oh, no," Harry shakes his head as he jerks his head in the direction of his car, reaching out to slide her bag off of her shoulder. He takes it into his hand, his fingers wrapping around the canvas strap as she shuffles to keep up. "I finished making dinner a little early, figured I'd meet you here. Is that alright?"
"Yeah. Yeah, that's really nice of you, thank you."
Harry hums as they approach his car. He unlocks the doors and they both get in, but he leans over before she has a chance to buckle herself up, clicking her seatbelt in. It's a small act that makes the butterflies return, but she doesn't comment on it as he starts the engine and begins the short drive back to hers.
"I made us some veggie pasta for dinner tonight. Does that sound good?"
"Delicious," Y/N replies honestly as she watches blurs of warm-toned leaves go by. "Thank you again."
A soft smile appears on his lips as he pulls onto her road. "Of course. How are you feeling?"
"I'm alright. A little tired. Nervous, to be honest."
Harry chuckles and briefly glances over at her, "Yeah? Nothing to be nervous about. We'll take it slow."
She shuffles in her seat and wedges her hands between her thighs. "Just don't want you to judge me, is all."
"I won't, but we did manage to forget to have the conversation on hard sexual limits. Do you mind listing yours?"
She nods. She's done this dance enough times to know the importance of discussing this subject matter, though she doubts there's much Harry could do that wouldn't be a turn-on for her.
"Um, any bathroom things, fisting, foot stuff... I'm fine with anal as long as we agree upon doing it beforehand. And if you're going to inflict physical pain on me, that's fine, but I'd prefer it if we built up to it — so, like, starting with spanking then the belt or a paddle."
"Sure, that makes perfect sense. I like to have conversations with my subs after we do a scene, so we can see how you feel about what we did," he pulls into a parking spot outside of her home, yanking the key from the ignition, "And, just so you know — no anal tonight and no spanking unless you deserve it."
He taps her cheek gently with his spare hand and she flushes as she unbuckles her seatbelt and gets out of the car. She follows him up to her front door and fishes her keys from the pocket of her jacket, unlocking it and stepping inside.
"Are y'alright with the traffic light system?" Harry questions as he sets her bag down on the slim table placed in the entryway.
"Yeah. My safe word is yarn, just FYI."
He wrinkles his eyebrows and pulls a few to-go containers out from his own bag. He opens his mouth to question her but she puts her hand up to stop him.
"I like to crochet. Don't make fun of me for it."
"Wouldn't dream of it," Harry murmurs, traipsing in the direction of her kitchen, "Go change out of your work clothes and put something pretty on for me, angel girl."
She's happy to comply, immediately feeling giddy at Harry telling her what to do from the get-go. When she gets upstairs and to her bedroom, she meanders over to the drawer she has for evenings like this. It's filled with lacy bodysuits and ruffly underwear, knee high socks, and pastel lingerie. Eager to rid her body of the jeans and sweater she wore all day, she opts for a sheer pink bralette and matching shorts that barely cover her bum. It's a sweet set that she personally likes, but she can't help the slight worry that Harry won't enjoy it as much as she does.
She's already meandering into her little headspace as she heads back downstairs. Harry's already plated up their dinner, complete with small servings of a side salad. He looks up as soon as he hears her soft padding across the length of the living room, his jaw falling slack at her appearance.
"Look at you," he coos, standing from the couch and closing the distance between them, "You look beautiful."
Y/N licks her lips, keeping her gaze low. She feels herself slipping, but for once, she's not scared of letting it happen.
"What's wrong, little one?" Harry asks gently, pressing his pointer finger and thumb to her chin, raising her head, "Are you feeling small already?"
She nods, her eyes round.
"Mm, that was quick. Just from daddy taking care of you and putting on these pretty little clothes, huh?"
Again, she nods.
"Alright. Let's get some food in your belly and then daddy can play with you a bit?"
This time, she shakes her head.
"No? No scene tonight?" Harry guesses through furrowed brows.
"Wanna play now, please."
"Ahhhh," he nods, understanding now that she's looking to skip out on dinner. "Gotta eat first, baby. Then we'll play."
Y/N pouts and he chuckles, wrapping his fingers around her wrist and tugging her towards the couch.
"C'mon. You can sit in my lap, hm?"
Still in the trousers he wore to work today, Harry settles back against the couch. He pulls her body into his, wrapping an arm around her waist to keep her steady.
"Is this good?" he asks softly, catching the shell of her ear.
"Yes." she peeps, nibbling on her lip.
"Alright baby, grab your food for me. Gotta eat at least half before we do anything."
Wringing her hands in her lap, Y/N doesn't move. Harry runs his fingertips along the length of her arm, nosing at her shoulder.
"Would you... daddy, I..."
Her voice trails off and his heart squeezes, eager to coax whatever she's trying to say out of her.
"Ask, honey. Use your words." he encourages tenderly.
She forces the words out, even if they feel humiliating despite her clouded head. "Can you feed me, please?"
Harry hums. He won't say it in the moment because he can tell the request was difficult to muster out, but his entire body feels infinitely softer. He leans forward to grab her serving, scooping some pasta on the fork.
"Y'gonna be good and eat for me now?"
She nods, "I will. Thank you, daddy."
He murmurs out a you're welcome, continuing the quiet pattern of feeding her, watching her chew and swallow, and going back for more. He doesn't let her get off without eating a few bites of salad, chuckling gently at her quiet protests.
"Still feeling good?" Harry asks, setting her empty bowl back on the coffee table.
"Mhm. Playtime now?"
He smiles and nods, carefully shimmying her body off his lap. "Why don't you go upstairs and wait for me? Daddy needs to eat too."
Y/N shakes her head and sinks to the carpet, pressing her chin to his knee. "Wanna be close, please."
"Yeah?" Harry chuckles, grabbing his own bowl of pasta, "Okay, baby, you can sit there but no touching. I know you're nearly gagging for my cock."
He watches as she shivers, nibbling on her bottom lip and shifting her position slightly so her cheek is smushed against his thigh. He laughs quietly and threads his fingers through her hair, quickly eating his own portion. He can't deny that he's just as excited to get started — he, too, has been thinking about this all day, deciding what positions he'd fold her body into, if he'd edge her or overstimulate her with orgasm upon orgasm. He didn't want to fully push her limits so quickly — he wanted to create a foundation of trust between each other, but he couldn't help the inevitable daydreams that clouded his day.
He finishes his food quickly, tapping her head playfully to alert her that he's done. She lifts her head and he takes in her moony gaze, his heart thumping quickly in his chest at how sweet she looks.
"Upstairs, bunny. Hands and knees, bum in the air, okay?" He plucks at her bottom lip as he grants her guidance, her eyes fluttering shut, relieved to finally be getting instructions. She scurries up to her bedroom, listening to Harry putter around as he places their dirty dishes in the sink. As he asks, she lets her knees meld into the foamy texture of the mattress. With her cheek pressed against the pillow, she folds her legs and maneuvers her lower half into his requested position.
It feels like an eternity before Y/N hears Harry enter the room, shutting the door behind him. He doesn't move to remove any of his clothes, instead kneeling onto the bed behind her.
"You've been doing so good for daddy, haven't you, baby?"
She knows it's a rhetorical question but she nods into the plushy pillow, wiggling her butt. He chuckles and allows his palms to roam the expanse of her skin, from the bottoms of her thighs up to the swell of her ass. She keens at the feel of his touch, already obsessed with the way his large hands fit over her body.
"We won't be doing too much tonight, but I'll be asking for your color consistently. I want you to use your safe word at any point you deem necessary. Is that clear?"
Y/N nods her head and hums, though her answer is slightly muffled by the fluff of the pillow.
He continues rubbing slow circles into the globes of her ass, intent on getting her to feel as relaxed as possible. He can tell she's excited — he is, too — but above anything, he wants her to be calm.
"I brought some toys and things for us to play with," Harry continues, her ears perking up, "Can you tell me your color for each of them? It's perfectly okay if it changes at some point. I'd just like an idea of what you want."
Y/N has never had someone care this much — every time a dominant brought a toy to a session, he'd thrown it in there haphazardly. A vibrator turned up way too high, terribly knitted rope and, the worst by far, a butt plug that wasn't lubed whatsoever.
So she's keening over the care Harry puts into his role, her heart beating rapidly in her chest as he shuffles off the bed for a moment and slings the tote bag onto the comforter. She still can't see a thing that he's doing, but as she floats into a comfortable cloudy mindset, she becomes more and more content with letting him make the rules.
"Okay, baby. Know you want daddy to make the decisions but I need you to be good for me and tell me what you're comfortable with," Harry murmurs, his fingertips dancing along the soft material of her waistband. He doesn't dip below or tug them down; it more so feels like a reminder of what can come if she's good. "Tying your wrists with silk ties. Color?"
Her pussy pulsates at the immediate vision of her arms tied high above her head, unable to touch herself or him. "Mm. Green."
"And what about your legs? Are you okay with rope, or would you prefer silk down there, too?"
"Either one, daddy. Green for both."
Harry hums, dipping down to slowly press light kisses down the length of her spine. She shivers at the sensation of his soft lips making contact with her skin for the first time. "A vibrator for your cute little pussy?"
"Green," she whimpers as his hands find purchase on her hips.
"Can daddy use his mouth on you?" he asks, the low vibrations of his voice making her core leak with arousal. "On your pussy?"
"Yes, yes," Y/N nearly pleads, bucking her hips up against his grasp. He tuts softly, and she can imagine the way his tongue flicks up against his two front bunny teeth, a look of disappointment painted over his face.
"Be patient, bunny. Don't need you squirming around just 'cos you wanna be touched."
She wants to groan out when he removes his hands from her skin but resists the urge, especially because he just told her to be patient (something Y/N has never been good at). She feels like it's a punishment in and of itself — he's barely done anything, but she can still feel the phantom kisses he placed down her back, and the skin stretching over her hips somehow feels lonely without his large palms pawing at it.
"On your back." Harry suddenly instructs. She's quick to obey, rolling over onto the plush duvet. He's fast in his movements and already kneeling above her, wrapping her wrists together and fastening a bow with pink silk. "Have you used these before? Do you know how to get out of them if you need to?"
Y/N nods. She knows that she can simply pull her wrists apart to quickly dissolve the knot, instantly freeing herself.
"Good girl. Daddy's gonna use rope for your legs, okay? Use your safe word or red if you need."
She has to admit, she's immediately impressed with Harry's apparent knowledge of bondage. She's been tied up many times before, but if she had to guess how many times someone's properly tied her hands, breasts, or legs with rope, it would likely only be once or twice.
A wet gasp leaves her mouth when she realizes Harry isn't just tying her ankles down to the bed post. Instead, he's pressing her calves into the backs of her thighs, the slight burn of the rope pressing into her flesh in the most delicious way. Although she's able to close her legs, the knots still remove most of her mobility, especially with her arms tucked above her head.
After finishing with her legs, Harry stands from the bed, still in his tee-shirt and trousers. He admires his work from above with a devilish smirk on his face, making Y/N's skin warm.
"Aren't you just a wet dream?" he mocks lightly, trailing his fingertips up and along her knee, "All tied up and absolutely useless, hm? Can't even get out of bed, can you?"
Y/N shakes her head, her bottom lip beginning to wobble at his teasing. Everything about the scene is already so intense, the build-up so delicious and consuming and— fuck, he hasn't even touched her yet.
"You just need your daddy to do everything for you, don't you?" Harry continues, kneeling into the mattress. His hands find the insides of her thighs and he pushes them apart, but his eyes don't even fall to her core, instead keeping them square on her wide-eyed gaze. "Helpless little baby, aren't you? Say it. Say your daddy's helpless baby."
"I'm— I'm daddy's helpless baby." she stammers out, her tongue heavy in her mouth.
"Are you gonna cry already, bunny?" he asks, his lips curling up into a wicked smirk, "Haven't even fuckin' done a thing and you're crying over being tied up. This is what you wanted, isn't it? Wanted daddy to make all your choices? Get all cock dumb and drunk on my cum?"
She nods futilely. She doesn't even realize the wetness pooling in the corners of her eyes, but she feels tears leaking steadily as soon as he mentions it.
"P-please daddy. Wanna be touched."
"Ah, so you do have some thoughts going on up there."
It seems like maybe that's all it takes for Harry to finally cease his mocking, digging into the tote bag at the side of the bed to produce a silicone vibrator. It's light blue and long, with a bulbous head at the tip that she assumes is for stimulating the spongey spot deep inside of her.
He finds a spot between her thighs, kneeling back on his ankles. His hands move up her inner thighs and to the creases of where her legs meet her core, the sheer fabric of her pale pink shorts immediately giving way to the wetness seeping from her hole. Harry nearly groans out at that, the sight going straight to his rock hard cock being strained by layers of clothing.
With a feather light touch, he thumbs over her clit through the material. She immediately jolts and he chuckles, moving his finger to gently stroke over her mound.
"Desperate little thing. Begging for daddy's touch."
"Yes," Y/N mewls at the top of the bed, wiggling against the rough rope, "I need it daddy, please, touch me, I've been so good—"
"Have you?" he asks, retrieving his hand, "All you've done is do as I've asked. If anything, I'm the one that should get rewarded, don't you think? Picked you up from work, fed you, tied you up... sounds like you're just being greedy to me."
"I'm not— t-that is being good, daddy, I didn't touch myself like you said a-and I've earned it, please."
She's fully crying now, tears leaking from her eyes in steadfast streams that it actually makes Harry feel bad. She hasn't even stopped her begging by the time he's pulling her shorts down to reveal her weeping pussy, a soft tsk leaving his mouth.
"Stop pleading, bunny, I'll give you want you're so desperate for," Harry says, grabbing the vibrator. He'd initially planned to work her with his fingers before pressing the toy against her clit and pushing it inside, but he hasn't even spread her open and he can already see the creamy arousal coating her lips. He thinks that if he teases her for much longer, she may just disintegrate into the bed.
So instead, because he's him and he's not a nice dom, he cranks it onto the medium setting and nudges it up against her clit. She instantly gasps out and jerks her hips up at the vibrations, a near-yell leaving her throat. He's aware that every person is different and it'll take him some time to learn her body, but with the way that her legs are already shaking as he uses more pressure to press the toy against the bundle of nerves, he thinks he he's getting somewhere.
"Are you gonna cum already?" Harry asks, his eyebrows knitted together as his eyes rake over her body. Her own eyes are scrunched up, her lips parted as small whimpers escape her throat, beads of sweat beginning to tumble down the slopes and curves of her skin — it's a sight, and he wishes to commit it to memory.
"Y-yes," she admits, nodding quickly, "Can I? Please?"
In response, he transfers the vibrator to his left hand and slowly pushes a finger into her pulsating hole.
"Go ahead."
He strokes once or twice against her g-spot with his finger before she's crumbling, her chest concave with haphazard breaths and her back arched. Moans readily fall from her lips, her pussy squeezing his finger so tight it nearly makes him cum on the spot.
As Y/N comes down from her peak, she recalls Harry saying that they weren't doing anything too crazy today, so she wonders if that's it. If so, she supposes that's fine, but she thinks she'll over him a blowie, offering to let him fuck her face while she's still tied up with silk and rope.
Instead, he cranks the vibrator up another setting and pushes a second finger inside, eliciting a broken groan from her chest.
"Again." Harry instructs, curling his fingers deep inside of her.
"O-oh," Y/N whimpers with shaking thighs and a dizzy head, "Daddy, I—"
"Again, bunny." he repeats, quickening the pace of his fingers. "I want another one. Now."
She quickly realizes that she doesn't know if she'll ever be able to reject Harry, because it only takes a few more pumps of his digits until she's squeezing him again. She's never had two orgasms so close together and she finds that this one is more intense, her muscles not even fully relaxed as they contract around him once again.
Her eyes are still closed when he removes his fingers and she thinks she hears a faint sucking noise, though she can't be sure. He lowers the vibrator setting but keeps it flush against her clit, despite the way her pussy is all but begging for a break.
"Color." Harry demands, his hand finding the backside of her knee.
"G-green," she hiccups through tear-stained cheeks, "Can keep going, daddy. Please."
He nods once, lowering so his stomach is pressed against the mattress now. He finally clicks the toy off and pushes it to the side, pausing his assault on her core before spreading her lips open with his fingers.
"Jesus, you're fuckin' pretty," he mutters, watching as her hole pulsates from two back-to-back orgasms. He spits, the saliva landing on her spread slit, making her gasp. "Who owns this pussy, bunny?"
Y/N's chest is heaving, but she still manages his honorific through wet, splotchy cheeks.
"Say it again." he commands before leaning forward to lick a fat stripe from her hole to her clit.
"It's yours, daddy." she whispers, her hands forming tight fists above her form.
"Good girl. That's what I want you to say when you cum next, okay?"
She doesn't have a chance to question yet another orgasms as his tongue makes contact with her pussy, moaning deeply. He's already obsessed with her taste and she's sure she's never had someone go down on her with this much vigor. She's gulping for air when his tongue darts in and out of her hole before licking up to her clit, lips wrapped around the nub as he sucks harshly, whines sounding from her mouth at the sensitivity.
Y/N has never understood the phrase "making out with her pussy" until this exact moment.
She doesn't even know if he's coming up for air much, but he's quick to figure out the pattern that makes her thighs shake. Messy sounds come from below as he slurps at the arousal leaking from her, using the width of his tongue to lick upwards to her clit over and over again.
"Daddy!" Y/N squeals, jerking her hips involuntarily, only to be pressing her core even closer to his mouth, "Please, I— I think—"
"Cum." he mutters into her, suckling at her clit with such fervor that Y/N genuinely thinks she may pass out.
She doesn't, though, but the intensity of her orgasm claws up her body rapidly, loud cries bubbling up her throat as she repeats clamors of, "it's yours daddy, your pussy, it's yours."
She feels him press chaste kisses against her mound as he gently begins to untie the ropes, slowly easing her legs out of their angled positions. Once they're free, he helps her stretch them outward, continuing his trail of kisses up her body until he's straddling her waist between his thighs.
"Color," Harry murmurs, reaching up to release his wrists from the silk. Her eyes are set on the bulge in his pants and he gently taps her cheek, "Bunny, tell me your color."
"Green, daddy. That looks like it hurts."
She uses her newly freed hands to point at his crotch and he chuckles, shaking his head.
"I'm fine, lovebug. Are you sure you're still green? Looking quite floaty."
"I am," Y/N lulls her head to the side, leaning it against her shoulder as she circles her wrists, "Wanna keep going though. 'm okay."
"Do you remember your safe word?" he questions, grabbing one of her wrists and pressing soft kisses into the skin.
"Mhm."
"What is it?"
"Yarn. 'cos I like to crochet."
Harry grins, relieved that she isn't too far off the deep end. He finds her to be especially adorable when she's in her little space, the moony gaze in her eyes removing any traces of stress from her day-to-day life.
"That's right, baby," he replies, pulling off his tee-shirt. "Daddy's gonna fuck you now. Is that alright?"
"Yes, please. But I don't think I wanna cum again."
He hums and nods, unbuckling his pants and kicking them off his legs, "That's perfectly fine, bunny. You got daddy so hard that I don't think it'll take much for me to cum."
Y/N giggles at that and makes grabby hands at him, making him chuckle. "Off, please," she says, pointing to the briefs straining his cock.
"You're such a polite little girl, did you know that?" Harry asks as he pushes his underwear down, settling in between her legs.
"Daddy's polite girl."
If his cock wasn't painfully hard right now, he might've laughed at her repeating his words. Unfortunately, an hour of overstimulating Y/N and watching her writhe beneath his grasp, all tied up with no choice but to just take it — he's shivering at the images of it, and he knows he needs to cum within the next five minutes or his dick will surely fall off.
"Gonna push in, okay?" Harry asks softly, rubbing circles into her hip, "Remember, tell me if you need to stop. Daddy will always listen to you."
Y/N nods her head, blinking away the leftover moisture in her eyes from her bout of cries earlier. She knows that if she didn't feel so comfortable with him, there's no way she would be this far in her little space right now, where she just wants him to take and take until he's satisfied. It's maybe happened three or four times in the past with a dom she had that was actually pretty good, but she knows now doesn't even begin to measure up with Harry.
When his cock pops through her tight walls, it's a bit of a stretch, but she's wet enough with arousal from three orgasms that it barely burns. Instead, she finds herself enjoying the way her core adapts to his shape — not to mention, he looks gorgeous above her with his eyes squeezed closed and his jaw dropped in a quiet groan.
When she doesn't safe word, Harry starts to move. He takes it slow, knowing that if he immediately starts to pump the full of his length inside of her, it may cause her more pain than pleasure, regardless of how small she's feeling. Her plushy lips part as moans begin to fall from them, hooking her ankles behind his form to bring him closer.
"You're so big, daddy," Y/N breathes out, a strangled whimper coming from Harry. "I love it, I love having you inside me."
"Yeah? My little girl wants her daddy's cock in her all the time?" He pushes through grit teeth, his jaw flexing as he begins to quicken his strokes, "Tell me, bunny. Tell me how much you want daddy."
"Oh—," she mewls as he begins to brush up against her g-spot, "I want it always daddy, I-I need it— oh, god— please daddy, please—"
"Sweet little girl sounds so pretty when she begs," He says as he takes one of his palms and presses it against her lower stomach, "This pretty pussy is mine now. You hear me? It's daddy's pussy."
"Yes, yes— fuck, it's yours daddy!"
Harry growls — actually growls — and shifts his hand down to smack against her clit, a throaty moan falling from Y/N's mouth.
"Dumb little babies don't curse," he snaps, slapping her clit once more, "Or do you wanna be punished? Not get any of daddy's cum?"
She shakes her head quickly, her eyes nearly rolling back at the sting of pain radiating through her core. "I want it, please!"
"Yeah? Beg for it, bunny."
She does — she pleads and begs and all but grovels on her hands and knees until Harry pulls out and pumps his cock over her, ropes of warm cum painting the skin of her stomach all the way up to her chest. There's so much (like an impressive amount, Y/N thinks), and she wants to scoop it up and taste it, but Harry grabs her wrist and gives her a look before she can.
"If you do that, you will have to call out of work tomorrow."
She giggles and nibbles on her bottom lip, the little headspace she's swimming in telling her to disobey him. He sighs and shakes his head, grabbing the tee-shirt he was wearing earlier and swiping it over her body, ridding her of his cum.
"You're a naughty little thing," he mumbles, tossing the tee-shirt to the floor — he makes a mental note to throw her bedding and everything in the wash once she's out of her little space. "C'mon baby, up. Gonna take a bath now."
"With you, right?" Y/N mumbles with heavy eyes. He nods as he leans down to scoop her up in his arms, guiding them to the bathroom. He sits her on the toilet and she frowns, making him roll his eyes.
"You don't want a UTI. This isn't a sex thing, just pee while I run you a bath."
She does but only because he tells her to, and she knows she'll feel embarrassed about this tomorrow, but she's okay with it right now. He busies himself with turning the water and making sure it's warm before plugging the drain.
"I brought some bubble bath and epsom salts with me but it's in my bag. Can I leave you while I go get those?"
Again, Y/N nods wordlessly and he leans down to press a kiss to her hair. She flushed and wipes while he's gone, and he returns while she's washing her hands.
Harry knows it feels oddly domestic of them to be naked and prepping to take a bath together after an intense scene, especially since this is the first time they've done this. In the back of his mind, he wonders if they should've talked through the implications of them beginning this type of relationship — a ruined friendship being one of them — and he knows it was selfish of him to forgo that conversation altogether.
He ignores his worries and instead helps her into the bubble bath once it's ready, tucking his body in behind hers as soon as she's situated. It's silent between them for the first time in hours as he wraps his arms around her shoulders, lightly massaging her shoulders.
"How are you feeling?" He finally asks after a few moments of quiet.
"Tired," she mumbles, laying back against his broad chest. He can't tell if she's still floaty by her one-word response so he continues rubbing her back, allowing her to sink into the warmth of the bath.
They don’t speak again after that, not until the water goes cold and Y/N almost falls asleep in the comfort of his arms. In the meantime, he makes sure to gently swirl a clean washcloth over her skin, using his favorite lavender scented body wash, and wash her knotty hair. All the while he whispers how special she is, how she’ll never be too much, but especially not to him. He decides it’s okay if she doesn’t hear him because she’s too out of it, but hopes that his words at least seep into her subconscious so she believes the same.
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a spider in the snow
pairing: fem!reader x miguel o’hara
summary: you help rehabilitate an injured miguel after he returns from one of his late night patrols…in more ways than one
warnings: nsfw, fluff then smut then fluff, handjob (both m and f recieving), blood mention, an incy wincy tincy bit of angst
word count: 2.5k
notes: heyyyyy i've come back from the dead. i don't really write a lot of one shots so go easy on me for this one. just like every horny person on the internet, i’ve fallen head over heels in love with miguel o’hara. this is me giving into my impulses lmao. sorry if i do anything thats out of character idk him that well so just work with me here. i also don't know everything about nueva york and if names are different than here or something so im just gonna pretend they’re the same. if they are, great! if not, just go with it lmao. one more thing, despite being cuban i am a no sabo kid (rip me) so i had to use a translator for some of this so apologies in advance if some things aren't super accurate. ok lets get on with the show.
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Snowy nights in Nueva York have always been one of your favorite parts about moving up north. Seeing all the lit up buildings illuminated in the snow, all the people ice skating in Rockefeller Center rink just below your apartment window, the reminders of Christmas coming soon. It kept your heart warm against the freezing temperatures outside. You also loved the feeling of being able to bundle yourself up in blankets and hoodies, a mix of yours and your boyfriend’s, having an excuse to make hot chocolate, and finally being able to use the fireplace that normally laid dormant in the middle of your living room. The one con about the snow was when it would land on Miguel’s patrol nights. Your already nervous mind was only heightened by the added uncertainty of everything that could happen while he was out there. What if he got too cold while out there and it affected his ability to fight? What if it started snowing too hard and he wouldn’t be able to find his way back to the apartment? You knew some of your concerns were probably dumb, but they felt serious to you.
This was one of those nights. One of the nights where you would sit on your couch, next to the cracked window, unable to sleep until you could see him come back safe. You flipped through the channels of the tv aimlessly, trying to find something to keep your mind off of the growing cold outside. You eventually turn it off after coming across the weather channel, claiming a snowstorm would be rolling into the city in about 15 minutes. Deciding there was nothing you could do about your situation, you walked over to your bedroom and wrapped yourself in your massive duvet to shield from the cold. Worries dashed around your mind about everything that could happen. Despite being verbally supportive about Miguel and his…hobbies, you really hated the idea of him sneaking out in basically pajamas almost every night to “beat up the bad guys” essentially. Even though he had explained everything to you by this point, having been dating for about three years now, you still couldn’t quite understand everything. Radioactive spiders? Corrupt businesses? Fangs and claws? Mutations? A multiverse? It was a lot to wrap your head around. But, despite all of this, all of your worries and concerns over Miguel, you stayed. Because you knew you didn’t start dating him because of his whole superhero business or whatever. You were dating him because you loved him. The real him. The way he would always press gentle kisses into the crook of your neck. How on his days off, you would be woken up to the smell of eggs and bacon cooking in the kitchen just for you. How he would always whisper sweet praises to you while you would give him head. How easily he could be crumbled down beneath his rock hard exterior. The Miguel underneath the red and blue spandex. You dreamt of this as you slowly fell into a calm slumber. You fell asleep bundled up in all the blankets on your bed, arm outstretched to the opposite side the bed, almost as if you were reaching for something that wasn’t there.
After some time had passed, you’re not sure exactly how much, you were awoken by a thud coming from your bathroom. You lazily rubbed your eyes and grabbed your alarm clock to check the time. 3:47 am. Yeah, that’s definitely Miguel in there. You dragged yourself out of bed to help him out, throwing one of this hoodies over your tank top for extra warmth. You also liked how it still smelled like him after three times in the wash. You opened the door, eyes squinting from the bright fluorescent light. And there he was. You found it endearing. How Miguel was trying, and failing, to reach this massive scratch on his back to clean it instead of just waking you up to ask for your help. You look to the floor to find a bottle of hydrogen peroxide sitting there on the rug, probably what caused the thudding sound. You stood there leaning in the doorframe, waiting for him to notice you, even though he probably already heard every step you’ve taken from the bed up to the door now. “You need any help there?” you ask him, jokingly. You had seen him in much worse conditions, so you took moments like these to be more comedic, an attempt to lighten his mood sort of. It didn’t usually work. “No, I got it. Please go back to sleep,” he said, still attempting to wrap his arms around himself. You rolled your eyes and walked over to sit behind him, picking up the hydrogen peroxide off the floor and grabbing a couple of cotton balls from the first aid basket. “Mi amor, please go back to sleep, I promise I can do this by myself,” he argued. Before he could get another word in, you poured some of the hydrogen peroxide over his wound. He groaned in response and squeezed your thigh to help level out the pain. “That’s for worrying me all night,” you said to him, just over the volume of a whisper. As you began to dab the blood off of his cut, he responded. “You know I don’t want you to worry.” Once you could see he was turning his head around to look at you, you turned your eyes away. You didn’t really want to look at him right now. It’s not that you were mad at him. Ok that’s a lie, you were a little mad. But it was more of a helplessness you felt when you would see him like this. Beat up, cut, scratched, bruised. And there wasn’t anything you could do to help. Not until after at least. And it wasn’t like you were a trained nurse or anything. You dreaded the day that he would come stumbling through the window, too injured for you to take care of yourself. Or worse. The day he wouldn’t come home at all. “Yeah, well that doesn’t mean I don’t,” you said sort of coldly. You stood up from your position, waiting to patch up his back until after he showered. You changed your positions to sit from behind him to in front, ready to take care of his front side now. “I don’t want to talk about that right now tho-.” You cut yourself off when you finally saw his face
Cuts were scattered across his face, one above his eyebrow still dripping blood catching your attention first. He also had a bruise quickly forming on his left cheekbone. Once you moved your eyes more, you saw his nose marked with a deep cut going through the middle. His beautiful nose. It was one of your favorite parts of his appearance. Done scanning his face, your eyes moved down to his chest and his torso. His chest was marked with similar cuts to the one on his back. You kept your eyes on his chest in an attempt to hide the fact you were holding back tears right now. “I’m sorry mi cariño. I really am.” You knew he was. But sorry wasn’t going to keep him safe. This was one apology among many. It didn’t really matter. He wasn’t sorry for getting hurt again and again and again. He was sorry for the fact you had to see him like this. If you wouldn’t have seen that he was injured, he wouldn’t have said anything And you knew after this apology as well, he would go out tomorrow night and do the same thing over again. You didn’t respond to his words. All you could manage to do was pull him into an embrace and apologize when he winced from your hands hitting his cuts. You sat there for a bit, running your hands through his hair and trying to hold yourself back from crying. He nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck and planted gentle kisses there, each a little apology from him. Once you finally pulled away and wiped your face, you started to clean the scrapes on his face, this time more gentle than his back. You dabbed the cotton ball on his forehead as he held you straddled on his lap. He admired your features as you concentrated on him, rubbing your back with his fingers in the process. You didn’t say much, only a simple “sorry” if you were a little too rough with cleaning. Despite the stern face you were putting on, Miguel knew you secretly liked the way he would grab at your thighs and hips with his claws when you did something that hurt.
Once you were finished, you silently put the first aid equipment away and left the bathroom so he could take a shower. He planted a soft kiss into your forehead before you left the room. Once you crawled back into bed, you sighed to yourself. How did you end up here anyways? There’s no way you were expecting all of this when you first saw Miguel at the concert bar that day. Some days were amazing with him. Others were much harder. And while you’ve definitely had worse days with him, today was leaning on the latter option. You contemplated all of this until you heard the door to the bathroom behind you open, Miguel stepping out of the steaming room with his towel wrapped around his lower body. You were very quickly reminded of one of the reasons you’ve stayed with him for so long. The way his wet curls were laying around his head. How his chest glistened while it was damp, despite currently being tattered with cuts at the current moment. He sleepily shuffled over to the bed, dropping his towel before crawling up close to you in bed. The warmth of Miguel’s freshly showered body against yours helped to melt the majority of your worries away. It also helped that you could feel his his cock getting harder against your leg while he cuddled against you. You finally turned around to face him, cupping his jaw in your hand and rubbing your thumb across his face. He grasped your hand and pressed soft kisses into it. “I love you so much Miggy,” you finally said, breaking the silence and drawing his eyes towards you. “I really do, and I’m sorry if I ever make it seem like I don’t. You just…you scare me sometimes.” You quickly realize those weren’t the words you meant. You begin to stutter and take back your words a bit, until you see that Miguel has given you his full attention. You take a deep breath and continue. “You don’t scare me. It’s more of what you do that scares me. I never know when you’re gonna come back or if you even are. If you think I take joy in taking care of you after you come back, I really don’t. I hate seeing my boy like this. And it makes me scared that one day you’re gonna come back in a shape I can’t fix. It scares me so bad Miggy you don’t even know,” you say, choking back your tears. Once Miguel notices you’re about to start crying, he wraps his arms around you immediately. “Shhh it’s ok preciosa,” he comforts as you quietly cry into his broad shoulders. “I’m so sorry for making you worry,” he says in between kissing the top of your head. “I promise I’ll make it up to you, and I love you too.”
You pull away from his hug and stare into his beautiful crimson eyes as he wipes away your tears. You suddenly fall into the overwhelming urge to kiss him. He returns the kiss with even more passion than you put into it. You quickly found yourself exploring his body with your hands, moans escaping his lips whenever you would graze over one of his wounds. You drew yourself closer to him to absorb more of his body heat, though you were quickly reminded of his bare cock as you could feel it hardening on your leg. Your hands eventually made it down there, teasing Miguel along the way as you felt him up on the way down. You then took his hard, already wet cock into your hands, caressing every ridge you could find on it. You could hear more moans exit his mouth and slide into yours as you handled him like putty. He would let out messier sounds, even a growl at one point, and jerk forward into your hand when you would tease around his tip. “F-fuck baby. Y-you’re s-so good to me. ‘N pr-retty too,” he would blurb out Feeling his cock get increasingly hard in your hand began to make you slightly wet as well. This only increased as Miguel began to take off your underwear as well, sliding two of his fingers into your pussy and placing his thumb to draw circles onto your clit. Your grip on his length becomes lazy and sloppy as you’re stimulated as well. You’re surprised at how quickly Miguel is able to find your clit, but then again you expect him to know your body so well after three years. After both of you have been at it for a while, you’re the first one to get close to your orgasm. “Fuck M-Miggy, I-I’m gonna cum,” you manage to moan out. His kisses on you get sloppy as he reaches his as well. It’s over for you once he begins to put more pressure onto your core. You let out an inhuman noise as your stomach fills with the white heat of your orgasm, shaking your entire body. Miguel takes his fingers out of your entrance and licks your cum off of his fingers. It’s then over for him when you eventually put the pressure of your fingers onto his cock. You hand is then covered in his cum once he reaches his climax in your fist, moaning intensely into the air. While he’s in the middle of his orgasm, his claws pop out of his fingers and into your hips and underneath your thigh where his hands are placed. Then, he lets out his fangs and uses them to leave hickeys into your neck, making sure not to let out any of his poison while doing so. “Just stay here with me Miggy,” you sigh out, his fangs deep into your neck. “You don’t ever need to go back out there again. Just stay here with me forever.” He simply nods at first, still sucking into your neck. Once he lets go and and begins to calm down, he responds with “Forever and always mi corazón,” whispering the words into your ear as he lays more kisses along your collarbone and neck.
You stare outside the window at the falling snow, hoping this time he’ll keep his word, but knowing deep down that he wasn’t going to. But for now, you could just appreciate your time with him now. He was all yours right now. Everything. And that was enough.
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A/N: uhhhh sorry but i didn't feel like proofreading this cause its super late for me rn sorry not sorry lmao
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This may not be the original meaning of the word, and it may still sound like a “bad” word to some people. But whether you like it or not, the word ‘lesbian’ exists in part to humanize lesbians. It exists so a lesbian girl can look it up after hearing for the first time, with wide eyes, and there there are others like her. It exists so that young lesbians can hear that there are other women like the. It exists so young lesbians can find accurate information about sexual behavior between women. It exists so young lesbians can find role models and spaces and TV shows for people like them.
What do you think happens when you take that away. What do you think happens when the meaning of the word ‘lesbian’ is in the dictionary is ‘non-men loving non-men’. What do you think happens when the lesbian tag on Tumblr mentions penis on every other post. What do you think happens when Reddit groups for lesbians mention finding men attractive constantly. What do you think happens when sex guides for lesbians stress that lesbians can learn to interact with dicks.
What do you fucking think happens?
I don���t give a shit about your “meanings change!” And “words are made up!” I don’t care. I don’t. You can deny all you want, but the only thing you’re meaningfully doing is prioritizing your feelings over the safety and happiness of actual lesbians. You laughed off the idea that predatory men will use the changing definition of lesbian to their advantage? Okay, what about adolescent lesbians trying to find others who are like them? As in- female humans, who only want to date other female humans? What about conversion therapists and upset parents who will say, “plenty of lesbians can like penis!” Oh, they already do that, you say? You’re just letting them continue! You’re just giving them MORE ammo and MORE room to do that, instead of fighting it!
Both liking other women and not liking men are parts of the lesbian experience. Both of these things contribute to why lesbians are oppressed, and if you don’t respect lesbians ability to voice BOTH of those things, simply and easily, you don’t respect lesbians. If you redefine lesbian, you’re not actually taking away the stigma around being a female homosexual. You’re doing nothing but adding to it, and making sure it’s harder to name.
I hope you’re all fucking proud of yourselves. The least you can do is admit that you only care about yourself.
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Toph Beifong doesn’t hold up as disability representation - Disability in the Media
[ID: A screenshot of Toph, a twelve-year-old girl with black hair in a loose, green and tan short-sleeve shirt and shorts, cheering in an arena. Next to text written in a rough, blocky font: "Disability in Media - Toph Beifong Doesn't hold up as disability representation" /End ID]
Avatar the Last Airbender is one of my all-time favourite TV-shows, and Toph is still easily one of my favourite members of Team Avatar. I was a few years younger than Toph when the show first started airing, and being a disabled kid who was into martial arts, constantly being dismissed by my able-bodied opponents and teachers, meant that I connected very strongly with her right from the get-go.
But upon my last couple of rewatches of the series, I began to come to the realisation that my opinions on Toph as a shining example of good disability representation were... well, pretty heavily influenced by my nostalgia for the show and that many aspects of Toph's character just don't hold up today. Which, honestly is fair, the show is nearly 19 years old (if it were a person in my country, it would be old enough to drink) and I think it's pretty ridiculous to expect every part of every character from an 19 year old show to age well. So today I wanted to talk about the things I think Avatar the original Last Airbender did right with Toph, where I think they missed the mark, and what changes I think would need to be made to Toph to make her work for a modern audience.
So let's start with why I think Toph doesn't really hold up as "good disability representation" today, and the elements of her character that just haven't aged as well.
For me, one of the biggest issues I noticed upon rewatching the show, is how often we are told (often by Toph herself) that she is blind, but how infrequently we are actually shown it's impact on her life beyond her bending or outside of jokey contexts. Outside of her bending, we only ever see her blindness impacting her ability to do things like read or write, otherwise, she functionally has full vision -so far as the audience is informed - with the only exceptions being when she's in the air or water (e.g. on Appa or in the submarines) or in loose soil (e.g. the desert). Having places and circumstances where she doesn't have access to her power that allows her to "see" was a step in the right direction, but I do think it would have been better if her seismic sense wasn't quite as accurate, even in the most ideal of circumstances.
But why? Well, I think Suki explains it really well, long before Toph is even introduced. when Sokka says "I should have seen you as a warrior instead of a girl" Suki stops him and says "I am a warrior, but I'm also a girl". Being a warrior and a woman are both important parts of Suki's character, and only recognising her as one or the other means ignoring a big part of who she is, and the same is true for Toph. Being blind is a big part of toph's character that has informed a lot of her life, but so is being a warrior and bending master. Many people see Toph as a warrior or fighter, but ignore her disability, but both are important. She's disabled, and a warrior, and those things don't cancel each other out, the same way being a warrior doesn't diminish Suki's status as a woman.
When the show was still airing though (and even still today) it was very common to see non-disabled fans of the show exclaiming that they honestly forget that Toph is even blind sometimes, with many people going so far as to say that she's not even disabled (and that this was a good thing). While I do think some of that comes from the fact they weren't used to seeing a disabled character as both disabled and an active participant in these kinds of stories, I do think this mostly happened because of the show's lack of, well, showing the impact of her blindness on her daily life and allowing her earthbending and seismic sense to erase the effects of her disability to some extent. It's much harder to forget a character is blind when it impacts their daily life in ways that are shown to the audience. This doesn't have to be in big, showy ways mind you, showing things subtly but consistently works way better than one "very special episode" type setup.
In the show as it is though, the seismic sense functionally gives Toph a perfect image of her surroundings until it's just not available anymore for *plot reasons*.
[ID: A black and white shot of Toph and how she sees the oponent she's fighting, with shockwaves radiating from him towards her to indicate how she's interpreting the scene. Her foe has jumped into the air and now has his hand dug into the ground of an arena, about to launch rocks towards her. /End ID]
In many ways, her picture of the world is better and clearer than what the non-disabled characters can see, leading to this feeling of her disability being erased. It may have been better though if the seismic sense could give her a general idea of big things in her immediate vicinity but she still missed the finer details, functioning at least a little bit more like a tactile/earthy-vibration version of the limited sight some legally-blind people have in real life. Things like a person's position, movement and overall pose would still be "visible" to her in a general sense, as well as big things in the environment (including things underground, since there are a few plot-points that require that), but smaller things like details about objects and creatures, people's facial expressions or what they're doing with parts of their body that have no direct contact with the ground (like their hands) is less clear.
On top of this, she may struggle to detect smaller, lighter objects or creatures that realistically wouldn't cause much of a vibration at all. creatures as small and as light as Momo and Hawky for example might be detectable, but "fuzzy" to her, and anything smaller might make enough of a vibration to tell her it's there when it moves, but not enough for her to be able to tell what specifically it is without some other cue (such as sound). There are a few moments in the show that seem to imply this is what they were initially going for, but it's not really consistent, and is directly contradicted in her debut episode, "the blind bandit" when she explains that she can even "see" something as small as the ants off in the distance.
[ID: A shot of Aang, a twelve-year-old bald boy with an arrow tattoo on his head, dressed in a yellow and orange outfit, standing with Toph at night. In the foreground is an anthill will a trail of ants, which Aang is looking for. /End ID]
With an adjustment like what I'm suggesting though, she still serves her narrative purpose of teaching Aang the importance of being able to wait and listen - possibly even more so, as her needing to wait and collect more information in order to get a clearer image before striking, would back-up what Bumi tells Aang that he needs in an earth bending master. It would also still help to illustrate the connectedness of the world, a theme Toph continues to embody heavily in The Legend of Korra, while still showing the ways her disability impacts her more frequently.
When I talked about the "super-crip" trope a while back, I mentioned that one way to avoid the more harmful elements of the trope (where the character's disability is erased by their powers) is to use the ability in question more like a mobility or disability aid than a straight-up cure. The power should help them, but shouldn't make their disability redundant. People are creative and we would find ways to use a superpower or magic to help with our disabilities if it were available in real life, but what's the point of including a disabled character if you're just going to functionally erase their disability? For a character like Toph, I think this is the kind of approach that should be taken with her. Her seismic sense still helps her, but it's not a perfect replacement. (Ironically, I did use Toph as a "good" example of that trope, but I do think after this last rewatch, for the reasons I'm discussing here, I might have to backtrack that a bit).
I considered giving an alternative approach here, to keep the sensitivity of toph's seismic sense as it is in the show as is, but giving it draw-backs such as making her susceptible to sensory overload similar to what autistic people experience. However, while replacing one disability with another can work for some characters and stories, I don't think it's the best adjustment to make for Toph or any blind character, largely thanks to this also being a trope. The "blind (or d/Deaf) person who's other senses become super-human to make up for it" trope is very common in fantasy, sci-fi as well as older martial arts films, and while I'm not really the best person to cover it, I do know that members of both the blind and deaf communities have expressed a lot of frustration with it. Toph already falls into this trope quite a bit, and any suggestions I could make would have just dialled that element up to 11, and fixing one problem with another is never a good idea.
Another thing that actually did bug me for a while, even before my most recent rewatch of the show, is how Toph is treated on the rare occasions she does point out something won't working for her. There are a number of times where Toph advocates for herself and points out that something The Gaang is doing isn't accessible to her or sets a boundary to do with her disability, and she's either left behind, her concerns are brushed off or she's ignored entirely. The three most noticeable examples of this are in the Episodes "The Ember Island Players," "The Library," and Toph and Katara's segment of "Tales of Ba Sing Se."
In the Ember Island Players, Toph complains that the seats they have for the play are too high up and too far away, and she's unable to "see" what's happening on stage. Her friends don't really take any notice of her though except for Katara who tells her not to worry, "I'll tell your feet what's happening."
[ID: A shot of Katara, a fourteen-year-old girl with long brown hair and blue eyes, sitting with Toph, who is sitting with her arms crossed, annoying in a theatre seat. Both Toph and Katara are wearing red and gold, fire-themed outfits. Katara is looking at something off-screen. /End ID]
My problem here is that this particular kind of situation is something that is familiar to a lot of disabled people. Even the least independent disabled people I know get annoyed when their access needs or requests for accommodations, even among friends, are ignored and their pushback is brushed off with "don't worry, I'll just help you!" It's one of the first things that many disabled people tell non-disabled folks wishing to be better allies to us: you offering help instead of actually accommodating us isn't a good thing. We don't want to rely on others if we can avoid it, because honestly, non-disabled people often aren't very good at actually helping or in this case, relaying information to us without training and more often than not, it just results in us being left out. I find it very hard to believe a character as independent as Toph would accept that without any protest, especially considering that is pretty much exactly what ends up happening (even if the show didn't really acknowledge it). Katara never actually conveys anything about the play to Toph, except when she's attempting to throw Toph's words back in her face when she asks for clarification about the actor playing her - which ends up backfiring on her.
[ID: A shot from the same location as before, this time Toph has a huge smile on her face and is leaning on the balcony excitedly while Katara is leaning towards her, annoyed by her reaction. /End ID]
While it would have been better if Toph was actually listened to, it would have been…fine? if a justification was given for why they had to sit there (e.g. to avoid being recognised), if Katara had actually described the play for her. This wouldn't have been ideal, but it would have been better at least. In real life, many movies, TV shows (including this show's sequel series, The Legend of Korra) and other forms of visual media have an Audio Description track that does exactly that. If they weren't going to move for Toph to be able to see better, having Katara describe the play could have introduced kids to the fact this is an option. but instead it's brushed off, and I'll admit, it left a bit of a bad taste in my mouth, even back in 2006.
The Library is a bit more forgivable in my opinion, since Toph is still new to the group, but in this episode, she states that she doesn't want to go inside the spirit library because she isn't able to read and therefor there wouldn't be anything for her to do. However, it still would have been nice to see her friends consider this at all before they actually arrived. They could have (and should have) still gone, but some acknowledgement that they at least thought about the inclusion of their disabled friend would have been nice.
[ID: A shot of Aang, Katara, Sokka and another man are talking while looking down at a map on the table. Meanwhile, Toph is sitting on the other side of the table, completely disinterested as she sips from a large ice cup with her feet up on another chair. /End ID]
Alternatively, I do feel like Wan Shi Tong, a self-proclaimed all-knowing-spirit or his assistants would have been able to point her in the direction of something to interest her, since he does imply books aren't the only form of knowledge he collects.
The reason I mention this though is two-fold.
In real life, disabled people are very often left out of "fun" group activities, whether that be in formal settings or in casual ones, like hanging out with friends. If the episode had been framed as "the Gaang learns about the library and decides to track it down," I might have been less critical, but it's specifically framed as something that at least starts out as a kind of break for the team where they all take turns picking out fun things to do so they can rest, and Toph's access needs not being considered at all until they're already there hits a bit close to home, especially since they just end up leaving her outside. Secondly, there's also a stereotype that disabled people (and especially blind people) don't belong in academia and places of learning, such as in this case, libraries. This stereotype is about as old as the concept of organised institutions of learning, and definitely isn't unique to AtLA, but the assumption is often that disabled people wouldn't be interested in more formal methods of learning, so it's not worth accommodating us. With blind people in particular, when I've seen this in media, the premise is often "well I can't read anyway so why bother?" which Toph definitely falls into here with no push-back against the trope.
[ID: A close up of Toph and the rest of the group, Katara, Sokka and Aang standing in a desert. Toph shrugs, looking bored, while the others looks confused and surprised with the exception of Katara, who looks mildly annoyed, standing with her hands on her hips. /End ID]
It does make sense that she would have been resistant to going in, and I'm not saying this episode should have turned Toph into a bookwork akin to Wings of Fire's Starflight (another blind character) or anything. But there was a chance in this episode to push back against some of these assumptions, and I think it's a shame they missed it. How cool would it have been if Toph had mentioned not feeling welcomed in more formal learning spaces because of her disability, which was just reinforced by the way her old earthbending instructor and her parents treated her. She decides to go inside the library anyway as "backup" in case something goes wrong, grumbling about it the whole way down. Wan She Tong starts his introduction mostly the same way, saying humans aren't welcome and Toph makes a snarky comment about it. Wan She Tong, equally offended that this human thinks he, the all-knowing-spirit, wouldn't have considered something, shoots back with an annoyed comment about humans being so self-centred. He explains that spirits come in all shapes and sizes, and not all of them have eyes, but they can still access his library. She's not the first sightless being in his study, and he-who-knows-ten-thousand-things knows this too. Once everyone is permitted entry, one of the knowledge seekers shows her to a series of slates about a lost earthbending form that she can actually read (or at least, "see" the pictures on) because it's carved. Or instead of a slate, it's a series of statues outlining the form, similar to what Aang and Zuko find in the episode "The Firebending Masters". Perhaps this form is something that helps her develop metal bending later on, and lays the groundwork for Toph becoming interested in teaching in the comics.
And finally, Toph and Katara's segment of Tales of Ba Sing Se. Katara convinces Toph to go get a makeover with her as part of a girl's day. Overall, this segment of the episode is pretty nice, and I liked that they showed that a person's gender expression (in this case, being a tom-boy) doesn't mean they can't like things outside of what we usually associate with that. Tom-boys can like girly things on occasion, and vice-versa, and I think this is an example of an episode that would seem a bit ham-fisted today, but honestly, was needed in 2006. However, there's a throw away joke where Toph says "as long as they don't touch my feet," and it immediately cuts to show spa workers filing down the calluses on her feet in a way so painful several staff are required to hold her down.
[ID: An image of Toph in a bath robe being held down in a chair by two spa workers while a third scrubs at her feet so hard that she is sweating. Meanwhile Toph is fighting against the two holding her down and has a facial expression like she is in a great deal of pain. /End ID]
this might be a minor thing in the grand scheme of the show, but it's still another example of Toph's boundaries about her disability and her access needs being disrespected by her friends, which the show just doesn't acknowledge it at all. People ignoring Toph's wishes about a part of her body she depends on in a much more direct way that others do is played off like a joke in a montage of otherwise enjoyable and goofy activities and this is a very, very common experience in disability circles.
There are a number of other, much more minor issues that show up with Toph as well, such as the fact she's the only one of the main cast who never has an on-screen (or on-page) relationship. not in the original show, not in any of the comics and not in The Legend of Korra. Again, it's not a big issue on it's own, especially because in AtLA, she's young enough where it's possible that she was just not interested yet, and she does have kids in The Legend of Korra where she mentions a relationship with a man named Kanto (Lin's father). So it is implied she does have some form of relationship eventually, but the issue is that it's never shown on screen or on the page. This feeds into a wider pattern in media of disabled characters being the only ones in their respective cast not given on-screen romantic relationships in stories, and so I still think it's worth pointing out, especially since the creators have had a lot of opportunities to correct that by now.
Toph is also portrayed, pretty much undeniably, as the best earthbener in a way that, at times, comes across almost like the creators felt like they need to compensate for her being on the team "despite" her being blind. This trope is one that I think Toph, at least partially, helped to popularise with the current generation of story tellers: The Disabled Savant. In this trope, disabled characters aren't really given the same room for growth as other characters; they aren't permitted to be average or still learning, they start good and get better. If they do progress, they often become the best, which is the case for Toph. To be fair, everyone in the The Gaang is the best at their respective skill by the end of the first series, which is why I say this is a minor point. She dose, however, have the least amount of on-screen growth in skill out of the whole team. Katara starts out barely able to lift any water at all, let alone actually bend it. Sokka is skilled with weapons from the start but does get his butt handed to him a number of times by others with more experience than him whom he learns from throughout his story arc. Zuko spends most of the early-to-middle of the show having things "blow up in his face" (to use his own words) and being belittled by his family of prodigies. While Aang is an airbending and, to a lesser extent, waterbending prodigy, he fails at pretty much everything else for a while before he starts to find his confidence - especially earth and firebending, not to mention the entire situation with locking himself out of the Avatar state. Toph is the only one who doesn't seem to fail or struggle all that much from a combat perspective. She does grow and improve in her bending (she invents metal bending after all) but she never has any moments where she really messes up or even struggles in combat all that much compared to the others.
All of these points and criticisms I've mentioned are not necessarily big in and of themselves, but when looked at together, they build up to create some issues with how Toph is depicted and how the people around her treat her disability
So that's it then? Toph is bad disability rep and Avatar should be "cancelled"?
God no. Like I said at the start, I still adore Toph and Avatar as a whole, but the show is a year away from being two decades old, it's bound to have some elements that don't hold up and I think it's worthwhile discussing them, specifically because I love the show and it's characters. Despite all the negativity I've brought up, I do think there are a lot of things AtLA did well with Toph too.
I've mentioned a few times that we rarely see how Toph's blindness impacts her life outside of her bending and combat abilities, and there's a reason I made that specification. Unsurprisingly, if you know much about the show's development, the ways in which Toph’s blindness and seismic sense impacts her bending and fighting style is one area where the show really does shine, and I still think that is worth a mention. The various types of bending are based on different styles of martial arts, specifically, different types of Kung Fu. Most earthbending in the show takes heavy inspiration specifically from Hung Ga, but Toph is different. Her bending heavily references Southern Praying Mantis Kung Fu, something unique to her within this world.
The reason for this (outside of simply wanting her to be visually distinct) was because the show’s creators made sure to consider what limitations Toph might have and what parts of the more common earthbending styles wouldn't work for her. Since her connection to the earth was critical in order for her seismic sense to work, they decided on a style that would keep her feet on the ground more, prioritised strong stances with minimal jumping and put more focus on attacking with her upper body. While not an intentional choice, the style they went with for Toph, according to the show's head martial arts consultant, Sifu Kisu, was supposedly developed by a blind woman in real life, at least according to legend. The creators also made further adjustments to the style with the help of martial arts consultants and just watching Toph fight is evident that a lot of love and care was put into the decisions made on that front.
I also appreciate that Toph's disability wasn't off-limits to joke about.
[ID: A picture of Toph waving her hand in front of her face with an exaggerated smile to remind the others she's blind. /End ID]
As I already mentioned, they didn't land 100% of the time, but lot of shows are afraid to use disability as a source of jokes, which would have felt weird and out of place in a show like Avatar. I see this hesitance in real-life too; people get extremely uncomfortable when I joke about my own disabilities and I've heard several people and even disabled comedians talk about the same observation. My last video on Tik Tok that got outside my usual audience was a joke about my prosthetic leg, and every single stictch and duet I received was people saying some variation of "I'm such a bad person for laughing!" "I'm going to hell!" or just straight up asking if they're aloud to laugh. If I didn't want you to laugh, I wouldn't have posted the joke! But joking about disability does make it more approachable.
Despite how often Toph and the others made blind jokes though, outside of the one instance I mentioned earlier, they never felt mean-spirited or like they were punching down. Even when a very sleep-deprived Katara was intentionally trying to be.
I think it's also worth keeping in mind the context of the media landscape when Avatar The Last Airbender was airing. Today, characters like Toph are very common, so much so there's a whole trope about them (super-crips) but at the time, having a character with a major disability be a main character in an action-orientated kids show like Avatar was really rare. She wasn't the first of course, but a lot of the time, if they were included, they were almost certainly sad and depressed, wishing for a cure or they were designated to the roles of "Guy in the chair" (which is a character, usually a tech person, who helps from the background), inspiration, scary villain fake-out (or other variations of "creepy" character) or the actual villain. Having a character that was not only comfortable in her skin as a disabled person, who didn't want or need to be "fixed" or "cured" to be directly involved in the story, and who's main obstacle (at least in season 2) were how the people around her treated her, was pretty ground-breaking at the time (pun not intended) and went against the most prevalent stereotypes of it's day.
And I really want to emphasise that. For many Millennials and older Gen Zers, myself included, Toph was the first character that didn't tell us we were broken and needed to be fixed in order to be part of the group (even if they slipped up with that messaging occasionally). Prior to seeing Avatar, I honestly thought there was something deeply wrong with me for being happy with my life (a reminder, I was 10 years old when this show first started airing), because every other disabled person in the media only ever talked about how much worse their life was because of their disability, how much they hated it and how much they hated themselves. Many outright said that they wished they had died rather than become like me. Toph wasn't the first to go against those tropes, but she was the first example of a disabled character who wasn't like that many people my age saw. Did she do it perfectly? Hell no, but personally, back then, I was happy to have a character who maybe over-corrected and took things a bit too far than another sad character talking about how lives like mine weren't worth living.
I also deeply appreciated that Toph did struggle with her independence, at least initially, and where to draw the line with accepting help. Because of how much she'd been coddled and overprotected as a little kid, she saw any attempt at people being helpful and working as a team as them trying to baby her. It was very on the nose, but I liked that the show gave her an episode just dedicated to realising that it's ok to accept help. Again, this is a bit of a story telling trope today, but having the disabled character realise that it's ok to accept help, and to do it without talking down to them or saying that them wanting independence was bad, was a refreshing change compared to what was around at the time.
[ID: a zoomed out image of Toph, standing before her parents with Aang, Katara and Sokka standing behind her. /End ID]
While I think the show's creators could have benefited from consulting with disabled people and specifically blind people the same way they brought in consultants for the martial arts featured in the show, it's very clear to me that the intention behind Toph's character was good, and that actual effort was put in to make sure they depicted her well, even if some of it was a bit misplaced. It's also worth noting that the groundwork for a lot of my suggestions is already in place, they just didn't follow it all the way through.
Overall, I'd say Toph was good for her time, and she's what was needed in the 2000's, even if she doesn't hold up as well today. I also think it speaks to how far we've come in terms of disability representation. When I first started engaging with the online fandom directly, almost no one, even other disabled people, argued that Toph wasn't good representation, because honestly, the bar was on the floor and we were just happy to have something different. But now there are options, and the standards are higher, and that's so, so good. It means that people, even in the media, are starting to listen and be more thoughtful about their depictions of disability than we were in 2006.
And finally, I want to really quickly mention The Netflix adaptation of Avatar. A few people have asked me now what I think they should do with Toph when they get to her, and what my predictions about the show are. I'm not going to talk about my predictions here, because this post is already way too long and that's not what this is about, but I don't think the suggestions I made today would necessarily work in this particular remake, primarily because of the tonal differences. Some adjustments definitely could, such the other characters doing a better job at listening to Toph when she points out inaccessibility and them actually considering her in the first place, but others might be harder to balance. The original show could get quite dark and serious at times, but it was primarily a light-hearted adventure story for kids. From what I've seen of the live action remake though, they're more heavily leaning into those serious elements - for better or for worse, and as such, trying to tone Toph down in the specific ways I mentioned might not balance out as well as it would in the original show. At the very least, the specifics would need to be different. To be honest, I'm not entirely sure what approach they should take, that's not really the point of this post, but I did want to quickly address it to avoid confusion. My suggestions today were specifically on how to approach the cartoon version of Toph for a modern audience, and were not meant to be read as suggestions on how her live-action counterpart should be depicted.
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One & Only, (18+)
♡ Pairing: Boyfriend!Bang Chan x Fem!Reader
♡ Genre: fluff, smut, pre-established relationship, some light plot to establish the setting, college au but it's a background detail
♡ Word Count: 4.6k
♡ Summary: Following a perfect Valentine's Day date, you decide you're ready for the next step in your relationship with Chan. You want him, and you know he wants you- and the only thing left to do is tell him exactly how you feel.
♡ Smut Warnings (contains spoilers): petnames (pretty, baby) corruption kink, virgin + inexperienced reader, mutual masturbation, fingering (f rec), handjob
♡ Notes: i wanted to upload something short (compared to what i usually write anyways) for valentines day and i’ve been wanting to write corruption kink channie for a while now, so what better time to do it! i hope you enjoy <3
♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.
You sighed as you flopped on the bed, freshly changed into your pajamas- next to you lies Chan, your best friend and roommate turned boyfriend, easily the love of your life, and you nervously chew your bottom lip, faced with the choice of what to do next now that your first Valentine's Day as a couple had come to an end. Returning to your shared apartment, nerves rattling away at you as you changed out of your prettiest, formal dress and now on the bed, trying your best not to overthink your situation.
If you were being blunt and honest, you just really wanted to have sex with him- or at least take the next step in that direction. But the thought of it was utterly nerve wracking; every time he looked at you with his handsome, dimpled smile and pretty brown eyes, and you pictured seeing that same expression while he was hovering over you in your newly shared bed, it made your heart race out of control.
After an awkward, impromptu confession that led to you becoming a couple, the two of you slowly began sharing your space, until one day you stopped going back forth between bedrooms and decided to just share one. You chose your room to share in the end- Chan, the gentleman that he is, let you have the larger room when you moved into this apartment as roommates, and it was the natural choice when deciding which of you would be moving their belongings into the other room. And it was nice, exciting even, to help Chan move his belongings into your space until it became not justs yours but his too.
But lately, sharing a bedroom served a problem- now that you slept in the same bed every night, you were becoming increasingly more aware of how badly you want him. And thanks to being friends and roommates before you were together, you knew had experience- experience that you felt you were sorely lacking. And it's not like you ever felt shame over the fact that you were still a virgin in college (as it's much more realistic than tv shows and movies would lead you to believe) but somewhere deep down you worried your lack of experience would make things awkward and unenjoyable.
That awareness of experience was equal, because in turn Chan was well aware of your sexual history (or lack thereof). You knew he wouldn't judge you, he would never be anything but kind and considerate, but it was hard to prevent self doubt from digging its claws into your embarrassingly fragile heart. You knew it was silly to feel this way knowing all that you do about Chan's character and his care for you that extends beyond titles of friend or girlfriend, but your nerves ate away at you regardless.
You kissed people before Chan, and that was unfortunately the extent of your prior experience. Your kisses were shared with fleeting crushes in high school, inside the confines of short lived relationships that never made it past first base. You didn't mind at the time- you weren't ready for more then, and you weren't going to compromise on sex just to keep a relationship going. But now here you were, an adult with little to no experience; and now that you were ready you were plagued by the idea that all of the awkwardness and exploration you could've gotten past in your adolescence will now be Chan's burden.
He wouldn't actually view it as such, you knew for a complete fact that he wouldn't- but the thing about self doubt is that logical thought does little to prevent it from taking root. And you felt terrible because Chan noticed you were feeling off since coming back to the apartment following your date; of course he did, he always noticed when you weren't acting like your usual self. You had such a perfect date together and now you were ruining it with your virginal rumination.
"What's on your mind, pretty?" Chan asks as he tucks the fallen hair behind your ears, the beautiful necklace he gifted you as your date came to a close perfectly adorning your neck. A silver locket in the shape of a heart, with dainty gems accented into the patterned engraving, which you opened to find a picture of the two of you after your first date. It was so perfect that you were speechless, and he admitted it took him months of saving to afford it (which was why your Christmas gift was something much less expensive in comparison and instead purely sentimental.)
"I-I'm sorry, I just.." you swallowed as you looked at him, your heart squeezing both from your nerves and from just how soft his expression is. "I was just thinking.. that I want to do more than just.. makeout, y'know..?"" You try your best not to blush from the admission, especially not when he starts smiling at you, but you can't stop your face from burning, and you turn your gaze away from his eyes, embarrassment taking its hold.
"Baby, look at me," he speaks softly but you can hear the smile in his voice before you even meet his gaze again to see it. It's a gentle smile that relays sweetness and care, but there's an underlying excitement beneath; because while he would never do anything to rush or pressure you along, he obviously wants more too. You're gorgeous, his best friend, his dream girl- of course he wants you. "You sure? I know it's a special day but we don't have to rush it or anything. I've already got the perfect gift."
You smile- timidly, but genuinely. He's so impossibly sweet, always; it's one of the main reasons why you fell for him in the first place. "Yeah, I'm sure- and I promise it's not just because it's Valentine's Day. I've been thinking about it, and I really want to, I'm just.. nervous is all. I've never.. you know.." You hesitantly meet his stare, your hand now nervously and unconsciously fiddling with the locket he gifted you that hangs from your neck.
It’s unceremonious the way his cock starts to throb from your timid words alone, almost shameful. He doesn't even know how much further than making out you're even going to go, but his body reacts regardless, independently from his brain that recognizes your need for slow, careful affection. There’s a million things he wants to say- “we’ll go slow” or “I’ll take care of you” or even “I love you” but his brain practically short circuits when you lift yourself from the pillows, locket dangling as you come closer to him, leaning down to press your lips to his.
A moment of confidence? Or maybe you already knew all the things he’d say and didn’t need to hear them? You’re not entirely atop him- that’s still a step too far in uncharted territory, but this at least.. Kissing him is something you can do without getting in your own head about experience and desirability. His fingers rest behind your ear, his thumb stroking your cheek as he kisses you- softly and slowly at first, the way he always does. It’s always a build up, his lips taking their time, his every caress careful but deliberate.
He always makes your heart race when he kisses you, makes your stomach do somersaults and blood run hot. Nerves aside, it’s undeniable how much you want him. One hand on his chest and the other in his hair, he’s careful when sits up from the bed to adjust your positions, conscious to not cause you to remove your hands from his body as you move in tandem with him. You let him lay you back down, catching just a glimpse of him hovering over you before your eyes are closing again as he kisses you. When his tongue licks your lips, you open your mouth to him without so much as a thought- it’s automatic, innate the way you welcome him into you.
It always makes you dizzy, the way Chan’s tongue dances around yours, swirling and building the excitement from deep within your gut to new heights you didn’t know possible. This time however, there’s an added desire, his kisses and gentle touches more impassioned with the promise that you’ll be giving him more; more skin to kiss and touch, to feel under his calloused fingertips, to admire and love and venerate. You’re all he wants, all he’s ever wanted, really; and he wants you to know, desperately wants to show you how much he desires you.
One arm holds his weight up while the hand on your face starts to trail away, fingers tracing the skin it travels over. Careful, slow, deliberate- it’s foreign but comfortable, somehow. When he hesitates, you affirm, you chase his touch, you pull him back, you silently plead with desperate eyes and eager breaths. Your face grows hot when your shirt comes off, his gaze hungrier when met with the sight of your bare chest, nipples hardened more so from the building anticipation than from the cool air.
He wants to dote on you- call you cute, caress your burning cheeks, kiss the blush on your face and feel the heat of it on his lips. So he does, slowly so as to not overwhelm you, word choice careful as to not embarrass you. Your cheeks burn brighter, but you smile; a cute, shy one that his cock reacts to in equal measure to his heart. Pretty, beautiful, cute, he says it all as he starts to trail his kisses around the shell of your ear and to your neck.
And you’re shy, impossibly so, but you indulge in the affection, as happy as you are timid and out of your depth. You can count on a single hand the amount of times he started kissing your neck during a makeout session, and you were always left wanting more but were much too sheepish to admit your building desire. But after that first time, when you were in the bathroom that night and saw the trail of small, just barely visible bruises left behind on your neck, you knew- you wanted more, and he was being considerate, holding back for your sake.
You didn’t need that anymore, nor did you want him to- don’t hold back, don’t hesitate, leave your mark for all to see, touch and kiss and suck wherever you want. That’s what you want to tell him, but it’s hard to formulate that thought into words when the feeling of his lips on your neck and fingers ghosting over your nipples makes your brain grow fuzzy. He’ll get the hint though, you think, when you tilt your head to the side to allow him easier access to your skin and a whine leaves your lips.
He can feel your body tremble, can hear and feel your breath hitch when his attention to your skin grows in intensity. Harsher sucks to your pulse point, more deliberate rubs of your nipples between his fingers- still careful, but no longer entirely delicate, as if you’re made of porcelain. No, his touches are now firmer, with more purpose and intention, more confidence now that it’s clear your admission of wanting more was not something said just to appease his growing desire to have you.
He throbs when he pulls back to look at you; face flushed, skin varying in shades of pink and red, breath a near pant, hair fanned out and growing messy, the locket he gave you still staring back at him in the middle of it all. His fingers trail over it and you watch him carefully, trying to gauge what he’s feeling. “Should I take it off..?” you ask, wondering if it’ll get in the way somehow and he quickly shakes his head, leaning back down to you, his lips just barely touching yours.
“Fuck no, leave it on. I love seeing it on you like this. Like-” he stops a moment, carefully considering if what he’s going to say will scare you off. But fuck it, you’re all being honest tonight, right? So why shouldn’t he say what he’s really thinking? “Like you’re mine. All mine,” he finally says, and though shy, you smile as you expertly play into it, feeding his fantasies. “I am yours Channie, I’m always yours.” Oh, you really have him now (as if he wasn’t already impossibly yours to begin with- you don’t even know the depth of his belonging to you.)
Chan thought about you like this so many times- for years if he's being honest. He always felt guilty; the way he fantasized about you, his best friend for all his formative years and then his roommate, spread out for him and crying his name, clutching him so tightly that your nails dig into his skin. He just couldn't control it, and even his dreams, which were once innocent in nature (if you could believe it), you were there, whimpering on his cock, back arching as hushed whispers of praise were spoken into your ears, your eyes rolling back and drool escaping the corner of your parted lips.
He wanted you, fuck, he wanted you, always have and he’s sure he always will. A single kiss and then he’s pulling back again, his hands trailing just over the hem of your pajama shorts. You unconsciously hold your breath, and maybe it’s his ability to read the nerves all over your expression that lead him to hesitate, capturing your gaze with sweet consideration despite how much he yearns to see all of you. “Nervous?” he asks and you nod, thankful when he kisses away the tension building in your body.
“It’s okay if you’re not ready for that yet,” he reassures you, taking his hands away from your hips and instead moving them up to your waist, where he knows you’re comfortable with his touch. “I-I am, I want to, I promise! It’s just..” you trail off, and Chan offers you a sweet smile, stroking your cheek as you once again fumble nervously with the locket on your neck. “It’s a lot, I know,” he finishes for you, and you’re relieved he understands (not that you even suspected otherwise- he’s always been the sweetest guy you know.)
He returns to kissing you softly and sweetly, his hands exploring the regions he knows you to be ready for, never wandering too far below your stomach. When he pulls away, your curiosity gets the better of you- you look where he rests between your legs, his erection noticeably straining in his sweatpants, a wet patch of what can only be pre-cum darkening the gray fabric. While you feel shy looking at it, Chan seems to welcome the curiosity, a slight smile playing on his lips. “Want to see it?” he asks and you gulp, tearing your eyes away to look back at his face. “Y-Yeah, can I..?”
“Course, baby,” he replies easily, his smile growing ever so slightly as he straightens up to remove his pants. You swallow, blush flaring as you watch him slide his sweatpants and boxers down his legs. Rather than returning to his spot between your legs, he settles next to you, sitting up against the headboard and making himself comfortable. Chan looks at you, watching as your eyes travel and drink him in; you take notice of how his cock twitches as you stare, how pre-cum steadily drips from the tip, how prominently his vein runs down the length of it.
You're not sure what words are appropriate when it comes to describing your feelings towards seeing him bare, but you know you like it- you really like it. Your gaze makes him throb- desire, need, love, all wrapped together with a pretty ribbon of innocence and purity. He's being patient, but fuck, he wants to ruin you, wants to see your eyes well with pretty tears and body painted with ropes of his cum. "Do you want to touch it?" he asks, hopeful and raging with want- for you, your touch, your kiss, your pleasured voice, everything.
"Y-Yes, but.. I don't know how to.. how do I make you feel good..?" you ask with the cutest pout he's ever seen, and he truly feels like his heart is getting struck by lightning; you're going to drive him insane with need before the night is over. "I can show you," he offers, smiling when you quickly nod. You're amazed by how confidently he takes it in his hand, not a single ounce of shyness to be found in his actions, unlike you; you wonder if you'll ever be the same- able to act without timid embarrassment eating away at you.
Even compared to his large hands, Chan's cock appears impossibly thick, and you swallow as you watch him collect pre-cum from the head before he spreads it down the entirety of his length. His fingers trace the vein before he takes it fully in his hand, his gaze entirely fixed on your face as he starts to slowly pump himself. You swallow, completely mesmerized, the butterflies in your stomach thrashing violently. You look back up to his face when you hear his breath shudder, blush growing with the realization that your stare had an effect on him.
When Chan lets himself look away from your face, he notices the way your thighs press together, how you squirm in place as you watch him, yearning for touch- and it gives him an idea. "Can I-" he exhales a shaky breath, fisting his cock just the slightest bit faster when you meet his gaze again, "Can I see how you make yourself feel good too? Can you show me?" Your face burns hotter, your legs pressing harder together as his question rings in your ears. You swallow, impossibly nervous but equally as excited, and you nod timidly after a few moments of careful consideration.
"Y-Yeah, okay," you mumble as you shift your position to get your pajamas and panties down your legs. You timidly watch his expression as you settle yourself across from him, aware enough that he should have a good view of everything (even if the action of spreading your legs for him makes you want to cover your face in embarrassment.) Chan exhales another breath as he tightens his grip on his cock, licking his lips when he sees just how wet you are. You're dripping and it's all for him, because of him- finally, his dreams become realized.
Similarly to what he did to himself, you rub your fingers up and down between your folds, gathering the arousal on your fingers before you bring them to your aching clit. You bite your lip, shy as ever and embarrassed by the noises that leave you. You close your eyes in an effort to ebb away the shyness and focus on the pleasure, but you're still starkly aware of his presence, of his eyes watching your every move. You can hear his low groans and harsh breaths, can hear the sound of his fist pumping faster when you let out another whimper between your bitten lip.
It astounds you how something this embarrassing can also be so arousing- you don't think you've ever been more excited than you are now, and the mess between your thighs and under your ass is definitely a testament to that. As the moment continues, with you timidly opening your eyes to watch him again, he doesn't fail to notice that you focus entirely on your clit, so he has to ask- "Do you ever- fuck- put your fingers inside?"
God, as if your face isn't already hot enough- but it's a fair question, and you answer as best you can between the noises you fail to keep internal. "S-Sometimes, but- it's- I don't-" you try, though you fail to formulate the words you wish to say; partly due to pleasure fogging your brain, and partly due to not even knowing how to phrase your thoughts the best in the first place. "It's hard? Doesn't feel as good?" Chan takes an educated guess, and you nod, relieved he found the words for you.
He understands- your fingers are dainty, and it must be hard trying to get them angled deep, hard to find the spot that makes you see stars when you have to contort your body to barely comfortable positions. "If you want- if you're comfortable, I can.. do it for you..? Help you?" Oh. If you're being honest, you've thought about how good his fingers must feel so many nights while touching yourself, wondering about how good they'd make you feel, how expertly they'd make you cum. "R-Really? You want to?" you ask- perhaps a stupid question, but there's still a part of you that can't even believe he's attracted to you, even this far into your relationship.
"God, yes, isn't it obvious? C'mere, baby," Chan beckons you back to him, and you oblige. You crawl your way back to your spot next to him, sitting on your knees but with your legs still spread apart. He takes his dominant hand off his cock, bringing it instead between your legs, slowly rubbing and getting his fingers wet enough to slide easily inside. His opposite hand resumes the motion on his cock, and you unconsciously tremble- both because of the hand between your legs, and because the sight before you is so fucking hot (to put it bluntly.)
"You're so fucking sexy," Chan utters, starting with just one finger, pressing it inside slowly, and your reaction is immediate- body shuddering as a gasp escapes you, biting your lip as he pumps his finger slowly, ensuring you're comfortable and adjusted before he adds another. "Pretty, so pretty," he continues, the tips of fingers rub your deepest parts with hardly any effort on his part, and when he finds your sensitive spot you positively jolt, every nerve constricting as if thrown in an ice bath, body tense, stomach clenching as the pleasure builds.
"My gorgeous fucking baby- feels good, doesn't it?" he asks, a theoretical question with no expected answer, but you're whining and nodding your head, your hips acting independently of the rest of you, rolling and bouncing and chasing every ounce of pleasure that can be derived from Chan's fingers. He presses his thumb to your clit, simply keeping pressure there as the motion of riding his fingers provides all the friction you need.
"C-Channie, feels so good, think I'm gonna-" before you can finish voicing the words, you're gasping and crying out. You're hot, your dripping with sweat, you're utterly floating as you're hit with wave after wave of explosive pleasure. He doesn't dare remove his fingers until you've finished riding it out, but to his surprise, you grab his wrist when he starts to pull his hand away, your eyes glassy and pleading.
"More? Please, more?" you ask so sweetly, and again he throbs, licking his lips as he takes in the sight of you- debauched, dewy, and flushed, world shattered in the best way possible. "Yeah baby, I can give you more. Course I can," Chan says before he's thrusting his fingers inside as if there was never a pause. Your eyes roll back as you bite your lip, your grip on his wrist tightening as you grind down against his fingers, always meeting them halfway.
When you open your eyes to look at him again, you can't help but notice that the pace of the hand on his cock is sloppy and uneven, and while you doubt you'll fare much better, you decide to take over for him, to try to please him just as much as he has you. You hear him utter a quiet curse as he takes his hand away, letting you replace it with your own. It's a sight, a feeling, that he wants engraved in his memory- you, riding his fingers while your hand desperately pumps his cock, giving him your best effort and trying your hardest to make him cum despite how much your arousal fills your brain with fluff.
"Fuck, baby-" he groans, reaching his hand out to the nape of your neck, pulling you down to capture your lips in a kiss, his tongue shoving it's way in your mouth before you can even process that your lips are touching. His hips buck when your thumb glides over the tip, sensitive and leaking, your soft hands sticky and wet and perfect. You hold his gaze when the kiss breaks, all your shy tendencies and thoughts of embarrassment seeming to fade to the very back of your mind, replaced entirely by desire and need- not just to cum again, which you unmistakably want, but to watch Chan cum too, to watch him fall apart and know that it was all thanks to you.
The room is filled with the slick sounds of your hands working each other, of heavy, panting breaths, of low groans from Chan and barely restrained, quiet whimpers from you, a sinful symphony played exclusively for your own ears. "Oh fuck, fuck-" he grits out, clenching his jaw and brows knitting together as he tries to stave his orgasm off long enough to watch you fall apart again first.
You can feel his vein pulsing beneath your fingers, can feel him twitch and throb, and there's a sense of pride you've never felt before that comes with it- it doesn't just feel good to cum, you realize, it feels good to watch your lover cum too, to be the reason they're losing composure and falling apart. "Y-You're close, Channie? Gonna cum?" He groans as he nods, licking his drying lips as his head falls back, unsure if he can hold it back much longer than he already has.
"Yeah baby, gonna- gonna cum for you, fuck-," Chan, who knows it's only a matter of seconds before he has no choice but to let go, mercilessly targets your sweet spot, his fingers all but drilling into it as his thumb rubs messy circles on your clit. Your hips stutter before your body seizes with overwhelming pleasure, the pace of your hand on Chan's cock faltering as your eyes roll back and you surrender yourself to the blissful sensation washing over you.
Chan follows quickly, the sight of you cumming again on his fingers breaking the already impossibly thin line holding him together, hot cum shooting out and spilling on his chest and stomach. You collapse next to him, legs aching (your knees especially) and body utterly exhausted. Your shyness returns when he turns his head to look at you with a sweet smile on his lips, and you blush as you return the smile.
You're both messy, in desperate need of a shower and a change of bedsheets before you actually sleep, but you bask in the moment regardless. He reaches for a tissue on the nightstand to clean the cum off his stomach before it dries and becomes a pain to wash off, and the moment it's done you're back in his arms, being hugged tight with kisses pressed to your forehead, your warm cheeks, and then your lips.
You curl into him, one of your hands holding the locket as you return his affection, pouring all your unspoken love and affection into the kiss you share. Your first Valentine's Day of hopefully a lifetime more, your joy immeasurable, your love boundless; a perfect day with an equally perfect end. You tell him you love him as he helps you clean up in the shower, he tells you he loves you as he helps you get dressed before he dresses himself, you share “i love you”s as you relax into each other in bed. You sleep, happy and warm and loved, secure in the knowledge that truly, this is only the beginning, and there’s still years worth of experiences left to share.
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Always Be My Baby
Travis was recovering from his knee injury and was spending a lot of time resting at home, meaning he was at the mercy of his daughters who wanted nothing more than to play with their dad all day. Today they were playing Doctor, and Travis was their patient.
Savannah and Laylah were dressed up in their little white coats, their own doctor's bags in hand. The pulled out some colorful band-aids and a plastic syringe you had given them to play with.
"Where are you hurting, Mr. Travis?" Savannah held the plastic stethoscope to her dad's stomach as he laid out on the couch, one arm propped under his head.
He moved the stethoscope to his chest, chuckling. "Mr. Travis? My name is Daddy, and I hurt my knee." He pointed to his left leg.
She scrunched her face, beginning to pout. "No, daddy! Your doctor wouldn't call you daddy." She crossed her arms over her chest, pushing out her bottom lip.
"But you're not my doctor, you're my baby girl." She shook her head, dabbing a cotton ball on her arm. "I'm not a baby, daddy. I'm a big girl." Travis smiled but he couldn't help but feel a little hurt at her words.
They took his temperature, pinched his skin with tweezers, and checked his reflexes with his good knee.
"Now, Lay Lay is going to take your blood pessure." Travis nodded, holding his arm out. Laylah tried to wrap it around his large bicep, but it would even make it around a third of the way. "It doesn't fit." Laylah whispered to Savannah, making Travis laugh.
"Its okay Lay Lay, I know what's wrong with him! Daddy, you have a broken heart." She patted his chest, blissfully unaware that she wasn't far off base.
"No Nannah, he hurt his knee." Laylah rolled her eyes as she pulled a band-aid out of her pocket.
You walked into the playroom as the girls were placing band-aids all over Travis' face and arms.
"So what's the prognosis, Drs?" You put your hands on your hips, trying to stifle a laugh at the sight of your husband. Laylah ran over to you, jumping into your arms as you placed her on your hip. "Mama, what does prononsis mean?" she whispered into your ear.
"What's hurting." You whispered back, placing her back on the ground.
"He has a broken knee and a broken heart!" Savannah jumped up and down.
"Wow, it sounds serious, daddy. Is he going to make a full recovery?" You winked at Travis.
"Yes, he should feel better by tomorrow." Both girls grinned from ear to ear, satisfied with a job well done.
"Alright, its time for a nap, Drs. Let's go." They both ran over to Travis, giving him a quick kiss before they ran off to their room. You sat down on the edge of the couch next to him, gently trying to remove the bandages from his skin. He sucked in his teeth as you pulled at his arm hair.
"A broken heart, huh?" You giggled, Travis pulling you down to lay down next to him. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. "How did that happen?", you asked, stroking his arm.
"Savannah said she wasn't my baby girl anymore." Travis pretended to pout, making you laugh. "Oh boy. How do you feel daddy?"
"Let's just say, her diagnosis is pretty accurate. We should start saving money for medical school."
****
Later that evening Travis was laying in bed, scrolling through his phone when the girls ran into the room, jumping onto the mattress. They were already in their pajamas ready for bed.
"Daddy, can we watch TV before bed?" Laylah asked, sitting in his lap. "Yes, you can watch one show. Do you wanna watch Doc McStuffins?"
While Laylah was excited, Savannah's mouth quickly turned into a frown. "No, that's a baby show. I'm not a baby anymore."
The thought hadn't left Travis' mind all day, his heart dropping when he realized that his little girl was truly growing up before his eyes.
"Even though your a big girl, can you still be my baby?" She tilted her head, not completely understanding. "I'm a big girl, not a baby."
"I know, but will you still be my baby and love me?"
"Of course! I'll always love you, daddy!" She answered, as if he had asked the silliest question in the world. She wrapped her arms around his neck, resting her head on his shoulder.
"What about me?" Laylah whined, tears brimming in her lashes. "I want to be your baby."
"Oh, c'mere. Of course you're my baby, too." He pulled her into his lap, kissing her on the cheek.
"Good", Laylah immediately perked up. "I want to be an actual baby for a while too. Be a doctor is too hard."
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i scream, you scream 🔪
ghostface!ryujin x fem!reader
warnings: trigger warning, phone sex, g!itzy, masturbation, horror themes, this isn't too accurate to the movies bc im too chicken to finish the first movie TwT, noncon
word count:847
kinktober ff, first attempting after a long time of writing, I’m not out of hiatus just yet but I wanted to have a part in this smut’s festivities xD enjoy besties
despite all the news and gossip from school your day was going surprisingly well, a bit too well making your stomach turn as you walked home. entering the door you began checking every lock and hole was closed tight before retiring into your living room waiting for your parents to return. mindlessly watching a tv show you get a text saying that their plans were taking longer than expected and assure you that they would be home before you went to school the following day. wrapping your arms around each other in an attempt to calm yourself down you decided the best place to be was room, turning off the tv you stand up to walk over when your phone begins to ring.
"unknown caller...maybe it's from their hotel room? they did mention that they would call to wish me goodnight?...hello? mom? dad?"
"scary night, isn't it?"
"huh?"
"being all alone at home must make you scared, perfect time to watch a scary movie wouldn't you agree?"
chills travel down your spine when you recognize the tone of his voice, chaeryeong had mentioned it one of the last times you spoke to her. it seemed to be just a rumor or tall tale to scare the freshman but now hearing it for yourself you felt your knees go weak.
"w-who is this?"
"i just wanna play a game." remembering the consequence of those who hung up on this ghostface killer you slowly make your way to your room and shut the blinds clutching your phone.
"a-and what happens if i refuse?"
"well i'll just tell everyone about how you masturbate every night to a certain female student~" your cheeks redden and breathing becomes short and shallow, wondering how they knew that detail your thoughts are cut off with their harsh words. "if you don't want this secret to get out or for me to come in, there's something i want you to do."
"wait you don't know-" a quick faraway knock on your front door makes your eyes widen and dart to the source of the noise. immobilized by fear you stay completely frozen in the center of your bed.
"you getting scared?"
"...n-no."
"then follow my rules and i'll let you off with a...warning." whimpering a response, the voice behind the phone chuckles and sighs contently. "all i want you to do is show me how you would get off with ryujin if she were there. let me hear every noise you make and don't hold back or else~" your brain and body still haven't comprehended the request leaving you quiet on the other side of the call, they get impatient and sigh. "here let me help a bit…” after a brief pause and muffled movements the other caller clears their throat. “hey doll~" snapping out of your trance you hear ryujin's voice and begin to tremble.
"ryujin? what are you doing with that psycho?? have they hurt you in anyway?"
"i'm ok doll, just a bit bruised but glad to hear your voice. although i was told to keep talking to you and you would do the rest?" remembering the request, you take a deep breath and close your eyes.
a tear falls down your face as you spread your legs open sliding off your sweats and panties. trying to focus on ryujin and her voice you circle around your clit wishing it was her tongue slowly tasting you. opening your legs wider your fingers trace your inner thigh as the ryujin in your thoughts grips them open before eating you out. your fingers sliding in and out of you causes you to let out a breathy moan, ryujin's tone quickens making you finger yourself faster as your fantasy starts building up towards the climax.
your back slightly arched you move your other hand to play with your nipple making you grit your teeth to stop a loud moan from being heard by your crush when the phone call goes dead. unaware of the silence from the other side nor of your front door being picked and opened footsteps closer to your bedroom door.
"hey doll!" a tight knot in your stomach began to form when your eyes open to reveal ryujin hovering over you with a long black robe on. an evil sly grin written all over her face she gets on your bed and pins you against it. "i had to see this part for myself, i've always wanted to know what it felt like to make you feel as good as you sound some nights."
your mouth opens but words fail to come out as you watch ryujin strip bare with red stains splatter across her chest. her erection is clearly evident as it teases your entrance, gripping your wrists above your head she bends down and gives you a long hungry stare licking her lips as she takes the time to see each curve and bump on your body.
"from now on i promise you are not to be alone again. let me finish what we started on the call, be a dear and give me a loud scream won't you?"
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seungcheol boyfriend headcanons <3
a/n: posting boyfriend seungcheol hcs next, as requested ! seungcheol just makes me feel so safe !! i won't lie -- it took me a while to write this because i would think about bf seungcheol and feel so warm that all i wanted to do was curl up in a comfy blanket and watch my favorite tv show :,-) pics not mine <3
content: fluff | wc: 1.3k | warnings: none! | pairing: boyfriend!seuncheol x gn!reader | requests: open
i desperately want to be a silly billy and make seungcheol act dramatic so i can fawn over just how precious he is <333 what a goofy lil guy !!!
seungcheol is 100% boyfriend material and the bestest boy
he is SO competitive
he's actually MORE competitive with you because he loves you the most and is so very comfortable with you !!
seungcheol makes competitions out of anything and everything
carrying groceries into your place ?? whoever carries the most bags and the quickest is declared grocery royalty
watching a movie together ?? whoever can guess the plot accurately has movie-picking privileges for the rest of the year
definitely loves playing kids games with you and, if you're into it, drinking games and by that i mean the s.coups game
he gets MAJOR heart eyes if you get even just a lil competitive with him
if you get properly heated during a game/competition ?? he's losing it !!!! (his mind, not the game ofc)
if you beat him at anything, he'll complain and be a lil baby, but he's actually proud of and impressed by you and will brag about it to seventeen because "my partner is the best at everything" <333
i see him holding hands by linking pinkies
it's lowkey but also cute and it gives him all the butterflies that only you can stir up in him
loves it when you'll lean into his side when you're walking like that
it's such a lighthearted and sweet type of physical contact that it makes him absolutely weak in the knees :,-)
it makes him feel young at heart, and he cherishes puppy love as much as he cherishes more mature/grownup love
he also melts when you lean on his shoulder
seungcheol will kiss the top of your head every. single. time.
no room for negotiation on that one because he cannot resist it or you because you are simply too cute
he also loves being babied
if you hold his face in both your hands, he's looking at you with sparkling heart eyes
and he is lost in a giggling fit
he's such a laughy boy <3 he cannot contain his happiness when he's with you !!
also cannot contain the blushing that comes whenever you compliment him, especially when you call him cute
his ears are guaranteed to be pink if you call him a nickname too !
he will laugh at super sweet petnames, but his favorites are special nicknames that only you two share
they're based off an inside joke, a special moment from your relationship, and/or your favorite qualities about each other :,-)
seungcheol will never ever admit the extent to which he loves being babied, but he'll literally hold you in place if you're cuddling and you get up
his face will stay unchanged, save for a small upward turn of his lips, and he is holding on for DEAR. LIFE.
he's a teddy bear covered in super glue and it's all for you <3
he's just so cozy !!! and he thinks you're the coziest person in the whole world !!! both for his heart and for cuddling
one time he told you this when he was very sleepy and had a super blissful smile on his face <3 you will never let him live it down <3
he'll groan every time you bring it up but he won't deny that it's true
seungcheol is also a big fan of matching loungewear, specifically hoodies
he simply adores casual couple behavior
to him, it's perfect because it shows off how comfortable you are with each other, and he loves matching with you when you're alone together because it adds to the specialness of the time and space you share
also really enjoys wearing some kind of matching clothes when y'all are hanging out with friends because it's a subtle way to show off to everyone that you two are An Item
not that they need a reminder because he talks about you constantly and you two look at each other with so much love and joy in your eyes <33
if and when the members tease y'all about your couple outfits and adorable behavior, seungcheol will flat out tell them that they're jealous
and he's right LOL
definitely married couple vibes from you two because you're just so relaxed and content with each other in every way
there’s a security and a deep understanding and trusting connection you share
he is absolutely the best shoulder to cry on
literally that one verse in 기대 when he’s asking for a name of everyone/everything that made you cry is how he feels whenever something's hurting you please i want him to protect me
seungcheol gets fired up when you’re upset because he is so frustrated at the fact there are things/people in this world that dare to upset you, the love of his life
regardless of how >:-( he gets when someone or something has caused you a lot of stress, he will be so soft and tender when comforting you and caring for you in hard times
seungcheol is extremely protective of you and will constantly work to protect and support you in the ways that you need <3
he also asks you to protect and support him when things get hard or overwhelming because you’re the only person he feels he can rely on 100% of the time
he doesn’t have to be strong for you all the time because he knows you’ll love him even when he can’t be strong :-( i'm crying
he feels so safe with you, and you two will always be at each other's side, through the best and the worst of times
i do see him as someone who lowkey loves hating the people/things you hate LMAO
not in a super serious way, but he will always hype you up when you’re venting about That One Person
in the same vein, he loves to love the people/things you like
he gets so excited whenever you’re excited !!
he will in fact squeal if he’s celebrating good news with you or if that one couple in a show you’re watching finally get together he’s so soft and cute i’m screaming
going back to seugcheol, you, and hoodies
seungcheol loves to see you in his hoodies/shirts/hats/etc but complains about you stealing them LMAO
when you try to give them back, he acts hurt
“why do you want to give them back?? are they not high enough quality for you??”
and you’re like ??? "cheol, jeonghan told me you complained about not having your favorite hoodie for at least fifteen minutes, so i’m giving you back your favorite hoodie"
he’s blushing and trying extremely hard to keep his annoyed face when he replies, “FINE.”
secretly he’s happy he gets to wear something that smells like you, and slowly but surely there’s a rotation of his clothes in your closet, switching them out when he “needs” them back for an outfit
aka he is taking them with him on tour or when his schedules mean he won’t be able to see you very often so he can at least have something with him that reminds him of you
tbh he's pretty cheesy in this regard and in many other ways but he tries to act tsundere and it just comes out so cute <3
seungcheol is such a laughy boy
he loves to be playful with you
sometimes he mocks you in a childish voice, especially if you're having a playful argument about something dumb, but then laughs cutely right after so you’re not THAT mad
it frequently happens that you both get stuck in a loop of mocking each other's voices like children on the playground and after far too long of it going on you two burst into hysterical laughter
don't be surprised if seungcheol says, "i love you" after he catches his breath and wipes his tears once the laughing fit has passed
you're the only person who can make him laugh like that and it fills his heart with more joy than you could imagine :,-)
seungcheol is the sweetest, most solid partner in the world. he adores you, and he will never let you forget that because you are his favorite person in the world !!
brb i'm going to run as fast as i can to seungcheol so i can give him a big hug and thank him for existing :,-)
i hope everyone gets the seungcheol they deserve <3
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Ok so I think I figured out why the panic attack scene is so great (or at least in my opinion)
It’s told from an outside perspective.
Panic attacks are horrible. You feel like the worlds crashing down and you can’t breathe and you get tunnel vision and you’re dying and it’s the end of the world. But to outsiders, I mean they look bad, but it’s mostly just shaking and gasping and stuff. Not nearly as catastrophic as they feel.
Now, I can’t remember a ton of times a character in a tv show/movie has had a panic attack (that wasn’t used as comedic purposes) but the ones I can remember, mostly focused on the person having it. The warped sounds, tunnel vision, etc. We were experiencing it through their eyes. And this approach has its appeals; it shows the severity panic attacks can have, makes the audience more sympathetic to the character, and lets the creative team have a bit of fun w how they draw it. And puss in boots does that very briefly when Perrito is asking him what’s wrong but for the most part, it’s not told from puss’s pov.
It shows what panic attacks actually look like instead of how they feel and shows how scary they can be even wo all the artistic liberties. It’s still a terrifying scene, listening to him hyperventilate on the floor surrounded by dead trees but it just tells the audience, “this is what panic attacks are like.” No flashing colors or fisheye lenses, just not being able to breathe on the floor. And in my own experience, that’s a lot more accurate too than all the artistic liberties other shows take.
And the outside perspective also allows a whole new set of feelings to be explored. As an audience, we already know why puss is freaking out so staying w puss would just reenforce smth the audience already knows. Instead, we get to see Perrito worry about his friend and start panicking himself when he’s not responding to him. We get to see him figure out how to help and be relieved when it works. And that makes the forehead touch/talk afterwards that much better. We know the extent Perritos love for his friends in a tangible way, not just him saying it, and it’s the first time puss accepts help from someone else.
Anyway, it’s just a fantastic scene and I wish I was in the room when they scripted it
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I was thinking about the Percy Jackson TV show and it just occurred to me that a few of the changes they made in season one, even though didn’t exactly please me, will allow the following seasons to be more book-accurate and in depth.
One example is the fact that we already have Luke’s background. We know why he left home, so now the show can actually SHOW us Luke and Thalia’s life on the road by flashbacks, instead of Annabeth telling the short version (how it is in the books). They can actually dive into Luke’s character and make him more three-dimensional, something that the series lacked up until the very last book when Rick had a “oh my gods I’m about to kill this character and I didn’t even give him a last name” sort of moment.
By fleshing out Luke’s character so thoroughly they can also give Thalia a greater importance than she had in the books. I was never particularly sold to her and Annabeth’s relationship because Annabeth never actually TALKS about her except for very few and brief moments during SoM. They now have the perfect excuse to show more of her (again, in those flashbacks about their time on the road) to build up her character so people will actually like her and understand why she is the way she is during book three. I’ve known plenty of people, including myself, that didn’t vibe with her during TTC for this exact reason: we were never given context about her. We don’t even know what made HER leave home until Heroes of Olympus.
Sally’s relationship with Poseidon being explored will make Paul even more important than he already is. For Sally to finally open up to a man again, to finally be able to love and trust someone other than Percy, is a HUGE deal now. Because we know she carried those unresolved feelings for Poseidon for the longest time and meeting Paul is what finally makes her let go of him.
I also think the show is building up the gods little by little. At first it would seem like they’re all bastards that hate mortals and should be guillotined, but then we get Hephaestus helping them because he wants to be different. Then we have Poseidon helping out Percy even though he wasn’t asked (in the books, Percy prayed before jumping from the arch) AND even helping out Sally by giving him an extra pearl. We will probably have, through flashbacks, Athena guiding Annabeth when she left home, and Hermes wanting to help Luke escape his fate is already a big deal. Instead of first seeing the gods as perfect creatures and later finding out they’re just as flawed as mortals, we’re doing the opposite: at first we think they’re trash and understand Luke, but little by little we are shown that, flawed as they are, most of the gods still try to do their best for their children. Except Ares, the little fucker.
All this long ass post to say: maybe we shouldn’t criticize the show so harshly before being able to see the bigger picture. Maybe we should give them some grace and time to cook.
Also: I know some people think they're being too forward with Percabeth, and to those I say: reread the books and use your critical thinking skills. But that's a subject for another post.
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The Best of Both Worlds
Din Djarin x Female Reader Modern!AU
Summary: When a new Star Wars TV show called The Mandalorian premiered, you found yourself completely enamoured with the titular character. Enjoyment of watching the lone bounty hunter travel through the galaxy quickly turned to obsession. There was just something about the show that captured your imagination. Now, you spend much of your free time — when you're not working a fast-paced, minimum wage and incredibly stressful job at a prestigious London Museum— speaking to your online friends about your love for the show.
There's just one thing...
Despite how much you love The Mandalorian, no one knows the identity of the man behind the helmet... either in the show, or in real life. You only know him as Mando. No one has ever seen his face, no one knows his name.
Even after the countless hours of speculation from fans online, which even you have occasionally participated in, no one is any the wiser to the identity of the mysterious man who wears the shiny armour.
Surely, given the depth of your love for the show, you'd recognise if the man who you spend so much time obsessing over online was to ever cross paths with you. Right?
Content Warnings: Reader is AFAB, uses she/her pronouns and in her mid 20s. Age gap between her and Din is noted but not really central to the story. Grogu is human, hints of past trauma/child abuse before Din adopted him are mentioned but not described in detail. Some mature scenes later on in the fic but not explicit smut... because I just cannot write x reader smut!
Author's Note: SO very excited to finally share this fic! Thank you to the lovely @suresnips for being my beta. I really appreciate you ♡
This baby was originally my NaNoWriMo 2023 project and was inspired by this post from @toxic-seduction that I saw one evening and couldn't stop thinking about! POVs will alternate chapter to chapter from Din to reader. It was fun to write that way! Set in London for a few reasons: partly because I love the movie Notting Hill and it has some of those vibes (if you squint), also, the village where Din lives is based on Elstree Studios just outside London, where the OT was filmed and ultimately because NO WAY was I writing a modern!AU set in the states, it would've been painfully obvious a Brit wrote it. While there are lots of references to places in London, I don't live there so it might not be truly accurate (Londoners don't come for me).
Also, to be political for a sec, reader works at the British Museum and I hate that institution. This was actually the line of work I was interested in when I was at Uni but for many different reasons I did not pursue it. However, it works for the plot of this story and as you'll see, she doesn't exactly love it either and goes on a few rants. Just wanted to make that clear that her job there is not an endorsement of it or anything. I can't stand them or their historical apologist bs and I wish we would give back all the things we stole (including the Parthenon Marbles)!
Finally, it was incredibly important to me that the actor behind Mando in this fic clearly be the fictional character of Din Djarin rather than the real person Pedro Pascal, because rpf is not my jam! I hope I did that pretty well but just wanted to warn that if you're expecting me to use Din as some kind of way to write a Pedro fic, this won't be for you! Okay, I'll shut up now! This fic is fully written, just needs editing so hopefully I'll get a couple of chapters up each week, but life happens. I'm very proud of this one and I really hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!
Also if you would like to be added to my taglist for this fic, please let me know!
Happy reading ♡
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Why Does It Always Rain On Me? [Reader POV]: After a dreadful day which saw you drenched by a rainstorm after leaving a hectic day at work, you reflect on your love for Mando and upcoming excitement for the sci-fi convention you will soon be attending with your internet best friend.
He Is My Only Priority [Din's Pov]: The character of The Mandalorian is known and loved by millions. But there is another, much softer side to the man who portrays him that Din Djarin is determined to keep hidden from the world, despite the challenges that presents for him and his beloved son, Grogu.
This Is Why (I Don't Leave The House) [Reader's POV]: Your internet bestie arrives in preparation for the Star Wars convention you will attend together. Everything is set for the greatest weekend of your life! Until you arrive at the con and find yourself overwhelmed by all the crowds and noise. At least you have numerous incredibly realistic Mando cosplays to distract you from how stressed you feel, and there's one in particular which is uncannily accurate...
Curiosity Killed The Cat [Din's POV]: Despite his reservations and against his better instincts, Din heads to a Star Wars convention that he was invited to. Although he fears that his cover will be blown, curiosity gets the best of Din and he can't resist attending a panel. But Din doesn't exactly find the answers he was looking for. Instead, he finds something far more precious. Something that he would never have expected...
He's So Tall (And Handsome As Hell) [Reader's POV]: Being back in the real world and returning to work after an incredible weekend at the convention where you had so many fun experiences is taking its toll on you. The thought of collapsing on your couch in front of The Mandalorian is the only thing keeping you going. However, the universe has other plans for you. News of an out-of-hours tour for a private client that you are asked to lead almost sends you over the edge, but when you finally meet the man, he is the opposite of what you were expecting. Weirdly, he seems familiar...
With A Little Help From My Friends [Din's POV]: Din returns to the set of The Mandalorian to begin filming a new season. Despite his experience and capability, he finds that he struggles to focus as his thoughts remain firmly fixed on a certain someone...
You're The Sunflower [Reader's POV]: Despite feeling certain that you'll never see the ridiculously handsome man you gave a tour of the museum to, a special delivery is about to change everything...
Your Face Hung Up High In The Gallery [Din's POV]: After a difficult few days of filming The Mandalorian, Din is excited to spend time with you as he finally takes you on your first proper date...
Have I Known You Twenty Seconds or Twenty Years? - (Reader's POV): Despite a messy evening which led to you waking up in an opulent hotel which you have no memory of falling asleep in, memories of kind brown eyes and breathless kisses soon come flooding back to soothe your soul. Your relationship deepens as the two of you spending time together whenever your busy schedules allow. But one night, a turn of events causes you - despite Din's reassurances - to wonder if everything you have been working so hard to build together has just come crashing down around you...
There's A War Inside Of Me - [Din's POV]: The realities of the secret he is keeping from you begin to weigh heavily on Din's mind and he seeks advice from a certain curly haired co-star on what his next move should be. Things don't go exactly according to plan, not least because of the typically awful English weather...
It Could Be Love, We Could Be The Way Forward - [Reader's POV]: With your respective busy jobs keeping you and Din apart, a mystery date after a hectic day at work is exactly what you needed.
The Calm - [Din's POV]: When filming overruns and conspires to keep Din from the fun weekend he planned for you, he agonises over his decision. Fortunately, he manages to salvage the weekend, even after a calamity involving a rowboat...
P.S. - I tried to be inclusive for all body types and skin tones in this fic, but if I missed something, I do apologise. If you do spot something that takes you out of the fic, I am more than happy for constructive criticism as I wouldn't want anyone to be excluded on those grounds. I am always trying to do better and would love to know where I went wrong so I can improve and be more aware of these things going forward, so I would appreciate it if you could let me know if you do spot anything. Thank you so much! ♡
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