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thesolferino · 3 years

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Blood Red

⤷ knight!dream x assassin!fem!reader.

— summary: technoblade hires you to kill sir dream at king george’s ball while he’s off duty; sir dream wants a dance with the peculiar lady wearing a peculiar gown.

A red gown flashes past the sea of white and baby pink ones in a dazzling fashion, one of a Duchess or a Countess, surely not of a simple lady, but it flies by quick, so quick that you simply don’t get to catch the face that matches it. Quick enough that it leaves you stunned, slow enough for a knight’s eagle eye to spot.

The red is dark, darker than the simple scarlet red that the women wore on top of their buns or at the ends of their braids in the form of carefully tied bows. It’s dark, a dark maroon red, walking the line between uncomfortably red and obviously brown finely, careful not to cross each side. It’s an unsettling red, which makes it even more intriguing, especially to a knight - a knight who dances, off-duty, but fails to keep his eyes on the Dame in front of him, and he’s sure it might’ve gotten him in trouble if the porcelain mask hadn’t stayed stapled on his face, shielding his eyes from betraying him.

The red is outstanding, eccentric amongst all the pale, and the knight isn’t the only one who steals a look - the red was noteworthy, among the rest, and wasn’t that what a killer like yourself was made to avoid? Getting seen, getting noticed? Being the center of attention was for the masterminds, after all, not the ones who get their hands dirty; somebody might catch them staining.

It was a bad idea, the ones in charge had said many times before, but you always wore red to the job. They always dumbly ask why, you always repeat the answer. The blood would become invisible, you said. It was as if nothing had happened, at all.

That’s why your maroon flashed amongst the sea of ivory and lavender unapologetically, beautifully shining against the blush pink tiles, matching red heels clacking in obedience with your footsteps, feet moving lightly, gracefully, as if made for such a setting.

And when the song decrescendoed into silence and the violins started moving in a different pattern, the knight callously let go of the Dame’s hand and his feet carried him to where his eyes remained fastened on for hours, pale hand outstretching to your own, finally getting to see your face for the first time in the evening.

The red was too much for a Lady, and that’s why he knew exactly who you were. Maybe not by name, or by age, but profession and motivation were a strong guess. He’d been waiting for this moment - might as well make the most of it.

“May I have this dance, miss?” He spoke, hand still hovering in the air calmly, as she stared dead into the mask, right where she could imagine his eyes were. The stare gave him the answer to an already solved question - your gaze gave away absolutely nothing, and that’s what made him sure of it all. You’re good at your job, he supposes.

Beats of silence pass as couples sway behind you, some more gracefully so than others. You set your hand in his, lightly, carefully, so timidly it almost made him rethink it all. How could such a hand commit such vile things?

“Alright.” You spoke in return, placing your hand behind his shoulder, touch still as soft as before before slipping your other hand in his, not letting your fingers intertwine the way he may have wanted them to. He placed his arm on your back, just below your armpit, beginning to dance and move towards the center of the ballroom.

“From what I’ve observed, you seem to be a good dancer.” He mused, stretching his hand to let you spin, gown flapping around as you did, and he could’ve sworn it might’ve left trails of stardust on the floor everywhere you stepped. You smiled, in a way that screamed at him to escape, but his hand stayed glued to yours, moving further.

“I know a couple of things here and there.”

“How come? Excuse me if I am being intrusive, but I have not seen you at many balls. At least not the ones I attend.” He knew exactly why this specific ball was the one she attended, and the whole conversation inevitably leads to the answer he’s already aware of - he just wants to see how good of a liar you are, though.

“This is my first time here. I’m not a woman of some importance.” You replied, charm beaming off you like rays of light off the sun, and Dream could almost feel his legs tripping after the very hem of your dress. He’s playing with fire, and he knows it, but he just can’t help himself and pour heaps of gasoline. He’s always been like that, and perhaps George hates him for it, but George doesn’t matter anymore - he doesn’t exist as long as he doesn’t look at him. He’s off duty, and if he wants to play with the fire that lights just to burn him, then he shall do exactly that.

“Oh, believe me, you are of utmost importance if I’ve ever seen some.” He says, and you reply with nothing, simply spinning another time under his arm that holds yours firmly. He takes it as an invitation to spark some panic in you.

“Besides, the color of your dress would suggest otherwise. How come a simple lady’s wearing such kitsch cloth?” Dream points out when the two of you move a bit farther back, led by you, and he’s just about impressed at how well you are at suppressing all of this, especially when you let out a perfectly timed, airy chuckle in response, not a single flash of fear or danger in your eyes. It’s the first time that night that he’s actually felt like prey. Techno taught you well, didn’t he?

“I don’t think you’re one to speak on that, Sir Dream.” you respond, eyes flashing from the collar of his basil green suit to the nicely paired olive points of his shoes, back to the hollow eyes of the mask with a mischievous glint in your eye. He exhales a laugh.

“The color is pretty, isn’t it? Aren’t simple ladies allowed to feel like Duchesses every once in a while?” you continue, pulling the two of you mere centimeters closer, enough for any of the passing guests not to spare a single look, and enough for him to notice what you’re doing. He can almost feel a bead of sweat breaking out on the back of his neck. Maybe he’s more scared of death than he thought.

“I don’t think you’re a simple lady.” He professed, following your lead. You were pulling him dangerously close to the south side, where the balcony stood. You were impressingly good at this. “Simple ladies don’t have knives strapped to their thigh.”

He waited for a slip up, and he got none. Not a single hitch in your breathing, a stutter of your tongue - your lips, marked with a red lipstick that suddenly looked a lot like smeared blood even though it wasn’t, simply stretched into another coy smile. You say nothing, simply keep dancing, feet moving in a little bit of a different direction now, as to delay the operation, and he likes to think that’s enough of a slip up.

“Are you scared of death, Sir Dream?” Violins stammer in staccatos behind him, an awful representation of the tension he knows both of you feel, yet not a single other soul in the room can behold. The back of his neck grows warmer, and maybe it’s fondness, maybe lust, or maybe danger and that known feeling of being the prey in this situation, that he taps in with one foot, the other safely yet artificially placed on predator territory, because he refuses to admit he’s no longer the one with the upper hand, and his leg has lifted off predator land long, long ago.

“My death will be nothing more than a false victory to you.” He offers instead of an answer, hips swaying to the music and steals a glance at the rest of the couples dancing. It’s such an airy atmosphere, so calm, casual yet fancy, elegant. Gowns fly around and snake around naked ankles, but none of them are as pretty as yours. Dream refuses to think about the way his blood would look soaking it, and that’s when it clicks. You’re not so dumb, after all.

“I suppose it will, but your murder will be a true one.” you say, and your feet are tapping on the tiles a few feet too close to the balcony. Dream feels crazy, still dancing like this. He feels crazy, and maybe he should ask for help, scream, but he doesn’t. He dances on, dancing until either the stars or you take him.

“Will you feel alive if I take it off? Will he be more satisfied?” His head moves comically, just to bring attention to the mask that feels so unbelievably tight and suffocating, the strings pressing to the back of his head, threatening to snap. He wants them to snap so badly.

“It’s too late for me to feel alive now. I’ve been dead for years, and I’ll stay that way. Whatever you want, though, honey.” Your voice feels more like music than the actual musing of the fuse of piano and strings in his ears, and he still feels crazy. He feels high on something he’s never known. You haven’t killed him yet - maybe you’re high as well.

“I can bring people back to life.” He replies simply, six simple words that are nothing more than conversation fuel, but they hold so much meaning that he can’t miss the glint in your eyes. Your step falters for a second, but the knight’s eagle eye never misses.

“You don’t want me alive, you want yourself alive.” You whisper, heels clacking louder and louder now. Dream is convinced he’s going insane, but his feet move at their own accord, of their own body and soul.

“I want both of us.”

“Only one gets to stay.” You say, and it doesn’t make his blood go cold like he expects it to. It’s sort of depressing to know that his heart accepted his morality so quickly, much quicker than his stubborn brain.

“I don’t think you want me to go, though.” It’s one hell of a ballsy move, but when you press your lips together, he knows he’s done it. Unsure how, but happy he did, nonetheless.

“I’m quite unsure of what I want, I must say. Sir Technoblade does, though.” You spit his name out, and it forces an unwilling laugh out of Dream.

“Be careful, it’s death you’re dancing with.” You say, gaze as fiery as ever, reflecting the blood of your dress and the blinding lights of the chandelier that light your eyes on fire. He returns the gaze just the same.

“May I get one last dance with Death, then, before she makes up her mind?” The knight cheekily smiles, even though you can’t see it, but he’s sure you feel it. Your hand manages to go warmer in his own when you grip it tighter, and he thinks he’s got his answer.

“You know what? Death’s a pretty good dancer, but so are you. She’ll allow it.”

#dream x reader #dream imagine #dream fanfic #dreamwastaken x reader #dreamwastaken imagine #dreamwastaken fanfic #dream angst #dream x y/n #dreamwastaken x y/n #mcyt imagine #mcyt x reader #dream fluff

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binniesthighs · 3 years

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don’t you forget about me | reader x jeongin

it’s the last day that you might ever see him again, so, to hell with it, right? (image from straykidsfilm on twt!)

please read the CWs bc this fic talks about body image!! this is something close to me as well, and I wanted to share some cute innie love!! <3

hey you reading this! you’re gorgeous ;)

don’t you forget about me | reader x jeongin

Pairing: self insert, female reader x yang jeongin

Genre: fluff n’ smut

Tags: high school crush au (everyone depicted in this fic is at least 18), virgin!reader, virgin!jeongin, plussize!reader (i think this is the right tag, if not plz correct me!) first time au, cuties in love, softdom!jeongin, (hehe ya know I love me a soft dom), sub!reader, unprotected sex (stay safe cuties!) semi-public sex, nipple play (f), fingering (f), cumshot, somewhat of a quickie, dirty talking, lil bit of a corruption kink, cute fluffy undertones!

CWs: brief mention of a fistfight and blood/wounds, insecurity over weight and descriptive narrative about body weight/appearance and negative self image

Word count: 7.1k

Word had spread that someone had gotten into a fight on the last day of school. Supposedly, it had occurred during the second to last hour of the day, and it was a group of three to four boys. The rest of the details had been unclear, but you had heard mutterings about their names, or how each of them had walked into the principal’s office with bloodied knuckles, fat lips, and purple bruises to their cheekbones. You had heard that one of them had laughed in the face of the principal, claiming that they simply had it coming.

“I heard that they were from class A-4. Or was it A-3?”

Your friend leaned over with her skirt ruffling on her plastic chair.

“Who could be so stupid?” She strung her bubble-gum around her finger with cracked nail-polish. “Are they looking to graduate, or what?”

“I don’t know...”

In your lap, you hands grew clammy with sweat. It was against your will, but you couldn’t but help thinking...

Yang Jeongin was in class A-4.

Your chest tightened thinking about if it had been him that had gotten in the fight.

It was no secret that you had harbored a crush on the boyishly handsome student from the other class of your same year. You had read or seen somewhere that the reason that they called crushes “crushes” was because they did just that--they crushed you to the full extent of the word. Whoever had said that, you had learned that they were 100% right. Having a crush on Yang Jeongin had been the most painful experience of your life. Since middle school, it had been something that you had scribbled in your diary, and the reason why you would hold your breath when he walked by with his friends, or when you’d see him on the same bus as you.

You can’t exactly recall when it started, it just kind of did.

There was nothing extremely notable about him: he wasn’t his class president, he wasn’t the ace of a sports team, nor did he even have friends who really were notable either. No matter how much you pondered it, you couldn’t figure out what it was about him.

Yang Jeongin was known for having a kind smile and a jovial laugh, so you just decided that it must’ve been one of these things. This semester he had ashy-grey brown hair, and your best friend still hadn’t heard the end of it from you. Over time, you had learned that he liked banana milk with his lunch and kept a fox enamel pin on his backpack. He had worn the same beat up sneakers for all of high school and wore this same grey hoodie on most days when it would get cold.

A couple times you had imagined what it would’ve been like if he had let you borrow it on the days when it would mist on spring mornings, or when snow would fall early in November. There had even been times when you imagined him holding your hand, walking down the hall, wrapping his arm around your shoulder to hold you close...among other things. Somehow, you liked to think that he would be the kind of person who would love you more than you could love yourself. Granted, you never could know for sure. Being optimistic made up half of your fantasies.

“Just confess already.”

Your best friend had said half a million times over the course of the years.

The more you had contemplated it, the less sense that it made. A confession would’ve been a whole lot easier if he had known who you were.

“There's no way.” You had said morosely. “As if he would say yes to me.”

“Can’t know unless you try.” Your friend smiled, sucking at her lollipop on the walk home. “Don’t pretend like you’ve never written him a confession letter before...” Her backpack hopped up and down with her arms outstretched animatedly in that alley decorated with vines. “...Where do you keep them? In your desk? Under your bed? In your sock drawer?”

“Oh shut up!!” You nudged her, sending her spiraling out with laughter.

“If it’s the last day of school, you’ve got nothing to loose! You’ll never see him again! If he says no, no big deal!”

The clock ticked on the wall to your classroom, the seconds hand moving silently faster and faster the more that you looked at it. Under your desk, your fingertips pricked the edges of the pink envelope. You had written your the name as nicely as you could with flowery cursive with tiny flowers. On the back, you had sealed it with a sticker: an orange fox.

Your throat grew dry seeing only six minutes before the bell would ring, and then the metal legs of chairs would scrape on the floor, the hallway would flood with students, and you would make your way to his locker and pray that he would stop by there. In many ways, just thinking about it was enough to make your stomach do somersaults and for your hands to wet even more embarrassingly with sweat. Your knees felt limp, and you wondered if you even had it in you.

Even worse, a deeper fear crept in the back of your mind--it was much more venomous and horrifying, but you couldn’t keep it down. You feared that he would laugh in your face, throw the letter down, and throw his head back at you and how ridiculous your moment of confidence had been.

How could be like someone like me?

Perhaps your biggest fear of all, even greater than the rejection, was him admitting that he could never like someone like you.

Your skirt was tighter on you than most, at least, tighter than it was on the other girls. When you would shop at the school uniform store, you could never escape the glares from the ladies when you and your mother asked for the larger sizes that they had. Your soft cheeks were plush and squishy, and your belly striped with stretch marks that you had stopped looking at in the mirror. Because it was more comfortable, you wore leggings under you skirt, even in the warmer months, even if it made you sweat. Oversized sweaters would swim over your frame, for the very reason that you could swim in them.

As optimistic as you could be, there had been some nights worse than the others where tears would wet your eyes before sleep, no matter how many affirmations and positive sticky notes you had pasted to the back of your bedroom door.

How could I like someone like you?

It would be so easy for him to say it. Words flicked off the tongue hastily are the ones that often hurt the most. You just hoped and hoped that he had been everything that you had made him to be...as unrealistic as it was.

The bell chimed, and you felt your heart leap into your throat when the room erupted into cheers and papers and desks went flying and screeching around the floor.

“Are you ready?” Your friend winked, and the corners of the letter pricked your fingers.

~💌~

With some stroke of luck, he was exactly where you had wanted him to be. Even then, some small part of you had secretly had hoped that he hadn’t just so you could walk away. You would’ve walked away from him, that school, everyone who had known you and just let it be. However, fate had been much kinder to you...damned fate.

Your heart quickened upon seeing him. He was wearing that same grey hoodie with the drawstrings that he would tie into bows sometimes, and that same enamel pin shone silver on his backpack. You realized that it even looked almost exactly like the sticker you had used. His navy uniform slacks were dusted with dirt however, and one of the knees had a bit of a tear to it. In your horror, you then saw the scrapes on his face: one right under his eye, on his left cheek, and a thin red line on his bottom lip where it had cracked open. Before you could think of anything else, seeing how much it must’ve hurt him made your heart twist.

From your backpack, you drew out the rest of the stuff that you had prepared, and tried your best not to collapse from the way that your knees trembled.

“H-hi...” You announced, head down, and mouth deathly dry.

Yang Jeongin whipped his head over to see you, slightly startled. Up this close you could see his adorable brown eyes that even looked at if they glistened with stars in them.

“...Hi?” He returned, closing his locker, and wetting his lips.

Your heartbeat rang in your ears, and you quickly presented him with the letter, the carton of banana milk with the heart sticker on top, and the tiny case of animal shaped cookies.

With eyes glued to the floor and his beat up gym shoes, you said the words as fast as humanly possible, “I-know-that-you-don’t-know-who-I-am-but-I’ve-really-liked-you-for-such-a-long-time-now-and-seeing-as-its-the-last-day-of-school-I-wanted-to-tell-you-so-please-accept-this!!”

You waited for what felt like hours, then he took the items from your hands with a tentative touch. “Um...thank you...for this.”

This was it. It was happening. You had already known that it wouldn’t get much better, and the way that he looked petrified only made you feel even more heat rush to your cheeks. Even then, now that the words had escaped your lips for the whole universe to hear, it felt good in some small, relieving way.

“Y-you don’t have to say anything back. Please don’t...don’t feel obligated to, I just...” Your voice trailed, and your eyes wandered to the exit door behind him, and the green of the summery trees.

I should just leave. It would be better if I left. If I walk away, this is all over...

The hem of your skirt tickled your nervous fingers, and you had nearly made up your mind. You wished at least that he would say something rather than just staring.

“I-I can just...leave, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry...how could I think that...nevermind.”

It took everything that you had, but you blinked the tears that stung the corners of your eyes and you hiked your backpack straps up a little higher.

You motioned to the things in his hands, “I hope that you enjoy those things and...good luck at university.”

You flashed a feeble smile for him, right back to his astonished face. Just outside of the exit, there was the rest of the world in front of you, and you also took peace in the fact that it really was a really nice day then.

“W-wait!!” He suddenly said with a slight crack to his voice, turning after you to grab at your wrist too. As soon as he did, his eyes widened, the the gruff voices of a group of boys echoed down the hall.

“Where is that shithead?? This isn’t over.” The tall boy from class A-4 balled up his hand into a fist, and smacked it into his palm. The tall boy and about three of his friends also had red knuckles and scratches on their faces, each to a varying level of degree.

“Shit.” Jeongin bit his lip, and his grip on your wrist tightened. “Uh-can you come with me?? This way?? Fuck--” He nodded toward the opposite hallway, and your head spun thinking why he would want you to come with him.

“What?? Why??”

“Just--” He watched the boys coming frantically and hid behind his locker door. “They’ll beat the shit out of me again. Just....come on!”

A nervous thrill sent a shiver down your spine feeling his hand and the warmth there while he guided you, pushing and parting the sea of bodies chatting and hugging each other goodbye.

“Where are we going?” You called to him, and the little carton of banana milk swayed in his opposite hand.

“I don’t know. Anywhere.”

You followed him further and further, through the hallways that had emptied of students or any semblance of them. Shades had been pulled in most of the empty rooms, and the chairs had been placed on top of the tabletops of desks. Both of your shoes squeaked under the flooring when you turned corners, and the sound of his nervous panting became louder and louder. Where he held you, the sleeve of his sweater bushed up against you, and it was even softer than you had imagined.

Jeongin pulled at several doorknobs, finding them to be locked, head turning to see if the group of boys had followed. At last, he found one that did unlock, and he threw it open on its hinges as quickly as he could. It was one of the storage closets for the theater department, and it was dustily coated on all surfaces and even moldy smelling, with not a window to be found. Jeongin flicked on the light, revealing the stacks of props and furniture that you vaguely remembered seeing in performances in the past.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to pull you so hard.” Jeongin finally said.

“It...it’s okay.”

“If I got caught with them again I might as well kiss college goodbye...” He raked an anxious hand through his hair. “I didn’t mean to fight with them before...”

“Are...you okay?” You softened your tone, seeing the way that the pink marks on his face must’ve been made against the hard cement of the floor outside.

“I-I’m fine. Thank you.”

His eyes really did look like they glistened.

“It...it’s really funny actually...” He shoved his hand into his pocket, fumbling with the contents with a shaking hand, then took out a crumbled piece of notebook paper that had been torn. “Take it.” He prompted with wide eyes.

“Me??”

“Who else?” He laughed lightly.

The note had been written in black ink, and it smudged and bled to the other side of the paper, and the scribbled handwriting looked rushed as if it was an afterthought or some kind of crazed ramble. You unfolded it all the way, starting at the first sentence.

dear y/n from A-2,

you probably don’t know my name, but I’m yang jeonjin jeongin from class A-4, i wanted to write this to tell you that I think that youve you’re really pretty, beautiful and that i’ve been kind of watching you for about a year now, i’m sorry if that’s creepy but, yeah, i just think that you’re really cool and i like it when you smile. i’m sorry that i didn’t say anythimg aything anything about this sooner, i was kind of shy about it to be honest, i didn’t want you to thank think that I was being disrespectful or anything like that, but seeing that its the last day of shcool school and I don’t have a ton to lose loose lose i thought that it was worth a shot. if this doesn’t go the way id i’d like it to, please don’t stop smilng smiling ♥

-yji

By now, the boy from A-4 was swaying his body back and forth almost violently as he waited for you to read the letter and fiddled with his arms crossed. His teeth tugged at his lip, and he anxiously awaited for you to say something. Little did he know that reading his words you were so shocked that you were certain that you had forgotten how to breathe for a couple moments.

“M-me? You mean this...for me?”

“Yeah?” He advanced to take the letter back, “I’m really sorry if it’s creepy, I know that you don’t know me at all and we’ve never spoken, this must be really startling but...I wasn’t expecting for you to write me one too.”

The adorable boy blushed and rubbed the back of his neck with a tiny growing smile.

“S-sorry that I was so quiet earlier, I was just really surprised.” Jeongin flipped your letter over too, then gasped a little seeing the fox on the back. “Oh.”

On the other side of the door, the loud and clambering footsteps of that group of idiotic boys clomped and they grunted among themselves asking where Jeongin had went. The two of you held your breath, and soon the voices receded. Once they passed, you threw your backpack around to scramble around the front pocket, pulling out a Band-Aid that must’ve been there for at least a year, but it still worked the same.

“Here...do you need it?”

“Oh! Um-no, but, thank you.”

A silence filled the dusty room, and Jeongin awkwardly moved to sit on one of the old prop couches. He patted the spot next to him, beckoning you to do the same.

“The timing...kinda sucks.”

You laughed slightly, “That’s sort of my fault.”

“--My fault too.” He quickly added. “I’m sorry that I didn’t get the chance to know you sooner. Maybe we could’ve...” Jeongin dug his fingers into the velvety upholstery.

Slowly, your sinking insecurities started to creep like vines with thorns, and the words spilled out of your mouth before you had something to do with it.

Maybe he’s just being nice? Are you really certain that letter was meant for you?

“I guess that I’m just really surprised that you of all people could end up liking someone like me. Someone...that looks like me.”

The young boy cocked his head with his eyebrows confusedly crossed. “I don’t see what you mean?”

“‘Cause I’m like...” You motioned to your thighs, a bit chubbier, your larger breasts, and your skirt riding up your legs too. “...like this?”

“But there’s nothing wrong with you?”

“Psh...”nothing wrong with me”...” You laughed with sarcasm at the comment. “Have you seen the other girls in the school? Some of them are frickin’ idols for crying out loud...”

Jeongin’s eyes widened, and he scooched in a bit closer, but slowly; carefully. “What I’m trying to say is...that there’s no one else like you! And--”

“--That’s exactly it. I’m not like everyone else...”

Jeongin blabbered, and his hand found yours resting on your lap. “I-I’m not s-saying that’s a bad thing! I’m saying that the reason why you stood out to me was because I think...” He shied, cheeks becoming even rosier. “...Because you just seemed so happy all the time, like, you didn’t care what others did or thought of you, I could tell, even from kind of far away, that you were someone who’s real not some kind of made-up thing that you put on every morning for the rest of the world to see you as. Also...” He giggled, “I just thought that you were really cute too.”

His thumb brushed up against the back of your hand, and you couldn’t help but smile at the small feeling.

“I mean...I do think about what people think of me, I think about it all the time...”

“I do too.” He said quietly. “Why else did I let it get so far that I let four guys gang up on me outside school?”

You didn’t press him for more, but merely let your opposite hand rest of top of his as you watched his expression fall. When he was in school, you had only ever seen him smile, but now seeing him like this, it was a whole other side. He looked up at you with his pleading eyes, and they were utterly gorgeous.

“My mom...my mom doesn’t make a ton of money. She barely makes enough to send to me school here, or buy me stuff like new clothes or uniforms each year. I almost never see her because she has to work so hard for me and my brothers...those...assholes had something to say about it and I kind of...snapped. No one can say shit about my mom when they don’t know how hard that she works for us.”

Your eyes fell to his scuffed and worn sneakers, and it all made sense.

“Then they found the letter...I didn’t want them to ruin the last good thing that I had going for me.”

In that moment, the whole world became silenced. You were the last good thing going for him and you had never even known.

Then, he smiled, broken as it was, bit it was still embodied his gentle warmth that you had fallen in love with all those years ago.

“But! It turned out okay I think.” Jeongin said with a sigh. He glanced down at your interlocking hands on your lap and chuckled a little bit. “Kinda cool that this worked out though. Maybe we could spend the summer getting to know each other?”

This time, you let one of your happy tears drip down your cheek, and nodded gleefully. “Okay. I’d like that.”

Jeongin smiled, just as you had seen him do it a hundred times, but this time you knew that it was all for you.

“Can I...can I kiss you? If that’s okay? I-I’m sorry if this is really forward...I just...really want to.” He asked gently, then wiped away your tears with the pad of his thumb.

You nodded, feeling your whole body shake just a little with your nervousness and anticipation. The world appeared to melt away once he had leaned in to press his lips on yours as softly and as carefully as he could. In that moment, you had forgotten where you were, what time it was or the rest of the beautiful summer day outside the doors of that school. Here, it was just you and him. Embarrassing as it was, this had been your first kiss too. Your mind raced with a million thoughts, asking yourself if you had been doing it right, but once you felt him smile lightly into you, your chest shivered with a sense of relief.

You had never expected kissing to feel like this, and it was a bit strange feeling something so close and intimate right on your own skin. At the same time, it felt like nothing else in the entire world had, and you only wanted more and more of it. He was cautious and respectful in the way that he had tilted his head, and loving how he had cupped your face with his hands cracked and bruised. You didn’t know where to put your hands at first, but settled one hand on his thigh, and the other on his shoulder where you tugged at his white button up stained with dirt.

He too shook with a sigh, readjusting himself, then ran one of his hands down your arm to hold your hand were it rested on him. He tangled your fingers together, and made a tiny little gasp feeling you connect with him. In seconds, he allowed himself to grow rougher, running his lips over yours with a type of fervency that teased at your bottom lip where you felt the warmth of his tongue. It took no more consideration, and you gave him the permission to meet the heat of his tongue with yours between parted lips now becoming a bit swollen.

Jeongin broke your connection for moments, and a different kind of haze took over his eyes. The way that he looked over your quivering lips sent shivers through your whole body, and he dragged his thumb over the tiny streak of saliva that shone on your lip.

“Is it okay if I touch you? In other places?” His eyes fell, and you giggled at the way that a kind of lust-filled hunger seemed to overtake him. For years you had fantasized about him ravishing you like this, and giving love to every inch of your body no matter how hard it had been for you to do that same to yourself. Still, as hesitant as you were, you feared that he would get a taste of all of you, and still change his mind.

“Really?” You stammered, instinctually crossing your arms around your chest. “You don’t think that I’m gro--”

“If you’re about to say “gross” don’t.” His expression became much more serious. “I-I’ll say it again a million more times if I need to: you, all that you are, is what I’ve been thinking of for so long, I’d love to touch you wherever you’ll let me.”

This time, you didn’t know if the tears were happy or sad, but regardless, the fat drops still fell down your cheeks.

“--And you can say no too. If you’re not comfortable, we can just keep doing what we were doing...there’s nothing wrong with that at all.”

The dim yellow light in the room buzzed, and you had recalled all the many number of times that you had pictured the very scene about to occur. On lonely nights, you wished to have felt his hands all over you, and now, they really could be.

“What do you say?” He asked, and squeezed your hand along with his.

“Can we...go slow with it? I’ve never...no one has ever offered to--”

“Of course we can.” He smiled adorably, which was a bit odd considering what he had just proposed. “But...I didn’t hear you say yes?”

“Yes.” You quickly added with a nervous inhale, but held his gaze with your assurance. “I-I want you to.”

The boy from the other class grinned, then took to carefully running his hands down your arms once more, and craning his neck to plant sweet little kisses into your neck: the stimulation from which made you whimper out of your own accord, and he giggled upon hearing it.

“You like that?” He whispered greedily, then continued sucking a little harder. Jeongin shrugged down your sweater from the collar, and his wandering hands circled little rubs into your bare arms.

Next, his fingers crept up slowly and cautiously at the bottom of your shirt, testing at first, but not pulling up the fabric all together. His cold fingertips buzzed on your skin in that drafty room, and he brought his lips back up to yours, also making tiny trailed gasps as he crept up all the way to your breasts. The moment that he touched them, both of you appeared to shiver on each other’s bodies, and your kisses grew even needier. At first he cupped over the padding of your bra, kneading and squeezing to play with the way that they jiggled slightly then pulling a bit harder, and relishing the way that they filled up his palms.

“Does this feel good?” Jeongin asked on your lips and you nodded back immediately.

The two of you leaned back on the aged couch, and the young man cradled your head to guide you into the cushion of the upholstery. He admired you for a few moments under him with one leg between your thighs and the other supporting himself and slipping a little on the cement floors. His thigh was just close enough to the heat of your arousal between your legs, and it ached and throbbed so badly, you were convinced you had never felt a feeling as intense as this. He leaned in closer, and pressed the muscle into your clit, and a muffled moan caught on your lip that surprised even him.

“Can I touch you even closer?” He asked, and those ashy grey-brown strands of his dipped over his eyes.

“Y-yes...please.” You found yourself begging, and he mischievously grinned at your desperation.

Under the cotton of your shirt, his fingers slipped under the padding of your bra to toy with your breasts directly. He kissed even more tiny quaking breaths into your mouth, finally finding your hardened nipples and tweaking them with his thumb and index. He pulled lightly at them, making your buds even more sensitive. You cried out with a helpless “ah!” and he stopped, worry across his face as if he had hurt you.

“F-feels really good. Don’t...don’t stop please...Jeongin...”

Absentmindedly, your hips had started to grind against his leg, and he had taken notice of it too. Had you been a bit more attentive, you could’ve seen the way that his member had swelled in his navy slacks, and throbbed, begging for attention too.

You could barely watch, but he hiked your shirt up, baring your cushy tummy for him to see only and you threw your embarrassed arms over your face. As long as you had kept the evil words at bay, they were much more seductive than any affirmation you could’ve repeated to yourself.

“Oh-are you okay?” Do you want me to stop?” The young boy immediately stopped and removed his hands. “Did I do something wrong?”

“N-no...it’s just...I’m really nervous be-because I’m--”

He sighed, then pulled your shirt down once more. “I can stop doing that for now. But...I just want you to know...I think that everything about you is even more beautiful than you know and these...imperfections--which they’re not--is everything that drives me crazy. Please don’t think that I see you negatively at all. I promise that I want to make you feel good everywhere.”

“Mm-okay.” You shook with a heavy sigh. “You aren’t...disappointed or anything?”

Jeongin pressed a simple kiss onto your upper lip with a smile “Disappointed? Why?”

“Because I don’t want--”

“--No?? I’m not disappointed at all! You don’t owe me anything at all! Especially when you’re not comfortable with it.”

“Hm, thank you.”

He continued with a tiny grunt, lowering himself even closer to you, “Can I please kiss you some more?”

You allowed him, with the warmth of your kisses' meeting in the middle. The heat in your pussy pooled even greater, and you grinded further, thirsting for him in ways that felt forbidden. For a brief moment, you felt the fear seeping back in, head racing with the dozens of thoughts that he might have if he were to see your stretch marks on your belly and on the top-parts of your thighs. The more that you found desire for him, the less that you were convinced that he wouldn’t desire you as much as you did him.

“Do you want...I can touch down here too?” Jeongin hushed, breaking for a minute to hold your eyes earnestly. “Would that be okay?”

He had noticed the way that you had pathetically rubbed into his leg, and this too sent your hands over your shy face.

“M’ sorry...I can’t help...it feels good too...”

“Don’t apologize! I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel the same way.” Your crush smiled with his eyes smiling in the same way. “You can...probably tell.”

“--But...what if you don’t like it?”

He cocked his head, “Like what?”

Your lip quivered and you found tears stinging your eyes once more. “Don’t like..m-me? What I look like?”

“What!? Y/n...my head is like frickin’ spinning thinking about what you look under these clothes--can you please believe me?”

“It...it’s hard to...” Fat tears came waterfalling down your cheeks, and once again the young boy fully stopped his advances.

“The fact that I’m here with you, kissing you like this after daydreaming about it for so long...there’s nothing more that I want than to make you feel good right now. Trust me.”

“A-are you sure?”

“Y/n. I’m 100% sure. And you don’t--you don’t have to even take this off if you don’t want to...” He toyed with your skirt. “But these might get in the way.” He ran both of his hands up and down your thighs and leggings with flat palms, and you felt your whole body ache for more than just that. “Again, we don’t have to if you don’t want.” he gave you a reassuring smile, “We still have the whole summer--”

“I do!! I...still do...”

Your quick answer started the both you, but Jeongin still didn’t advance faster than what was comfortable to you. Instead, he carefully snaked his hands up and under your skirt, finding the elastic of the leggings then pulled.

His eyes blew out, enamored, seeing your bare skin, and he wetted his lips too seeing the way that your underwear had glistened with your essence. It was against your will, but you had soaked through your panties which he had swiped over a couple times accidentally, and the action itself sent an aching quiver to your untouched bud. You watched his every move has he angled his hand to ghost over the wet fabric, making you squeak from the new sensation. After, he found the band to your panties, pulling them down too.

“Wow.” He gasped, seeing the way that your bud twitched.

Jeongin dipped his fingers into your wetted folds, teasing at first.

“Woah.” He said with a little gasp. “You’re really...”

You stifled a moan with your lip, feeling your cheeks grow even warmer as his digits slicked with your arousal. “I-I know...I’ve never like, done anything like this before.”

The young boy’s thumb grazed over your clit, eliciting an immediate response, and your heels went digging into the cushion of the couch.

“This is your first time?’ He asked gently, two fingers now filling up your entrance.

The best you could, you tried to remain quiet, but the harder and deeper that he had advanced, the harder that it became. Your eyes wandered, right to the pressure he had created under his belt loops, and you wondered furiously what he would’ve felt like inside of you; if he could stretch you out, or what it would have felt to just be like that with another person.

Jeongin admired the way that your face scrunched up with a prideful little smile, and loved every minute of the way that your mouth would form airy “oh’s.”

“You like feeling my fingers inside of you? Fucking right into your wet pussy?”

His gaze held a lusty glaze seeing the way that your eyes blew out upon hearing his dirty words, and it only seemed to make him throb even harder himself.

“Y-yes...” You mewled, reaching out grabby hands to hold yourself steady on his shoulders, the other going to tug at his belt.

“I-I wouldn’t mind if you...you know...”

Jeongin rolled his body over yours, attaching his lips with yours once more just to let the words stick on your tongue. “You want me to fuck you?”

“Only-only if you want to--” You could barely get the words out feeling your thighs to shake as he coaxed your nearer and nearer with his thumb rubbing circles over your enlarged button.

“Of course I want to.” He assured you with even more kisses. “Are you sure?”

You hooked a couple of your fingers to pull out his black leather belt from its confines, muttering a tiny “yes.”

Jeongin carried out the rest of your job for you, going to quickly clink the metal of his belt away, tossing it to the cement floor haphazardly. From the boxers that he wore, there were a couple little wet stains, and the outline of his dick protruded thickly. Seeing it like this awakened something in you, something primal and feral that wanted nothing more to be connected to this boy and to have him spread you out until you could barely breathe. It was a horribly naughty thought, but as shameful as you felt, it was just as thrilling.

The boy sprung free his erect member, pink and dripping with his pearly pre-cum, and pumped at it a couple times, eyes raking over your whole body in the way that you had only ever dreamed of.

“This is actually...my first time too.”

He had said the words coolly, almost like he didn’t care at all about them, but you had assumed he had done so to keep you from worry.

“Oh fuck--” He muttered, taking his left hand to reach under your shirt once more and play with your breast roughly. “God, I can’t believe that this is happening.”

You coyly hiked up your skirt a bit higher for him to get better access, but not all the way, just as far as you could feel comfortable.

“I might’ve thought about this a couple times...” Jeongin said with a tiny smirk, then slowly dipped his hand back down to wet his fingers with your arousal, then coat it around his length. When he did so, he let out an unapologetic groan that wavered out of his mouth and filled up the room beautifully.

“I’m gonna go slow, okay? I feel like I heard somewhere that it can kind of hurt for you the first time?”

You nodded out quickly to let him know, finally becoming impatient enough to claw at his arms all wrapped up in that grey hoodie of his.

He leaned down one final time, kissing you over before aligning himself with your pussy, kissing down your jaw, then to your neck where he buried his head as he lead himself into you. His arms shook where he held himself up, and the two of you shuddered at the feeling at last: that euphoric, tight, unreal feeling that you shared for the first time.

You whimpered out, digging your nails into his back, and his breath hitched in his throat too.

“I-its...s-so..tight.” Jeongin barely got the words out, but merely let himself throb around your velvet walls for a moment. “Y-you okay?”

“Mmhm.” You said, barely able to get more words out than this.

Truthfully, it did hurt just a little, but not as much as you had pictured it to be, but it was more like a pressure, and it only grew heavier as you got used to him.

Jeongin started to thrust his hips slowly, even painfully so, but he maintained his pace dragging his hips over yours. He filled you up so fully it was unfathomable, and his length pressed up against your deepest spot, sending a kind of electricity through your whole body.

He settled into a rhythm, finally getting comfortable enough to return back to your mouth to slick his tongue across yours, and cradle the side of your face in his hand. You let little whimpers fade into his mouth, as he did for you, and after long, he had decided to speed up just slightly to milk himself off with your tight walls. To your surprise, he reached his hand back down to your clit to rub at it erratically. His pattern made little sense, but compared to how he had been stimulating you deep inside too, you could barely hold on.

Jeongin grunted, biting into your lip with a trace of teeth. “I-I want you to c-cum first--I can’t...I can’t--”

Before you could even understand what he had said, the young boy snapped his hips harder, eyes closed and tiny bits of sweat forming on his brow. The pads of his fingers pushed harder, and you found yourself spinning even closer to an orgasm by his hand, the thought alone was enough to fulfil your deepest fantasies.

“I want you to cum all over my dick for me, okay? Sh-shit...”

“Jeong--”

“God, you’re...fuck...” He laughed a little. “I really really like you y/n. I really...”

It was as if the words had been stolen right from his mouth, and his voice had abandoned him, but all he could do was press harder, faster, glide his hips over you rougher...

“M’ gonna--” You gasped out with your whole core tightening into a knot that was just about ready to snap. The pressure behind your clit was intense and burning, and you became light-headed nearing the brink.

All at once you came with a searing and inexplainable white heat--much more intense than you had ever felt before in your whole life, and every single muscle in your body quaked as you did so, and you threw your head back to that dusty cushion of the couch. Your eyes rolled back on their own accord, and the best that you could do to muffle your moans was throw your hand over your mouth--which was quickly removed by the young man to do the job himself.

Your thighs violently shook and you felt yourself tighten around him. He too strung out explicatives as if they were the only words that he had known. You breathed out shallow gasps into his palm, and soon he tore himself out of your walls with incessant breaths, only having to jerk himself off for a few moments before his swollen tip burst with the white strings of his cum. He continued jerking himself as such until he had nothing more to give, and his own thighs shook where he had straddled you. You could feel his warmth on your thigh and the way that it dripped and slicked with the sweat of your leg.

Jeongin’s entire face flushed with pink, and he stammered out realizing the mess that he had made all over you.

“I-I’m so sorry...I-I didn’t realize, I wasn’t thinking...I just...”

While it was a predicament, you mustered the best smile that you could for him, secretly and utterly loving the way that it felt on your bare skin.

“I’ve got...I can figure something out--”

“--Jeongin?”

His attention snapped back to you in your afterglow, and you could practically see the boy melt right then and there.

“--Don’t worry about it.”

Just as he had been before, his smile creased into a shy and awkward little line, and he could barely hold your eyes. After the initial embarrassment, he couldn’t help himself but admire you.

“Hey Y/n?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t know if you’ve ever heard this before, but I really do think that you’re perfect. If not perfect for yourself, I hope that I can show you how you are to me. You’re perfect for me. You’ve always been.”

“So have you.” You admitted to him in that cobwebbed room that held all kinds of forgotten trinkets and items.

“And thank you for giving me your letter too.” Jeongin raised the back of your hand to his lips where he placed a chaste kiss, then helped you carefully back up as to not make a mess of your skirt with the white staining your leg.

Your crush smiled, then let out a gleeful exhale, “I can’t wait for this summer.”

~🌹~

Bunch of (Ro)ses!

@minaamhh @dazzlehoseok @synnocence @jjewibeans @hyunsluvv @unexceptional-h @bobawithchaitea @lechanters @sailorhyunjinz @silencefavarchive @eunaeiekim @lunarskzzz

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dustofbrokenheart · 3 years

Text

The Covenant: Gains

Poly Sons of Ipswich x Reader

Word Count: 2,802

Summary: Trying to take advantage of their gym membership, reader starts working with a devastatingly attractive personal trainer. And his friend is pretty hot, too.

The gym was still new for you but you had been coming consistently enough that you felt comfortable there. You knew what times equipment would be available and what times the crowds would be too much (week days 3-5:30 was like competing in the Hunger Games.)

Cardio always came before strength exercises because your muscles would be too fatigued otherwise.

And on Tuesdays and Saturdays they played your favorite music on the loud speakers so you didn’t have to bother with headphones on those days.

Still, you weren’t an expert by any means.

In fact, you were still hesitant to call yourself a gym-goer because you’d seen the workouts other people did and you definitely weren’t doing that. There was no strategy, you just did what you felt like doing on any given day. You were impressed by their discipline though.

Maybe, most likely, it would benefit you to incorporate some of that into your own routine.

The gym had a personal trainer program and you figured that would be the best bet—much easier than trying to figure it out on your own.

Poking around the website, you found the section that explained the process. The design was modern and intuitive, and it was easy to book an appointment: the only information you needed to provide was your name, the date/time, and what trainer you wanted.

The first two things were easy to fill out but the last had you a little stumped; you weren’t familiar enough with any of the trainers to request anyone by name even with the drop-down menu that listed out all of the choices. For a second, you were tempted to forget about the whole thing but luckily, there was an option for ‘no preference’ and anxiety levels dropped off as you selected it.

Appointment booked, you went on with the rest of your night, focus shifting to what sounded good to eat for dinner.

A week later, you found yourself in the gym’s front lobby, arms crossed and foot tapping. Since it was the first time, there was no harm in arriving early. The directions on the website had said to wait there for the trainer but so far there was no sign of them. Granted, there was still five minutes until the scheduled start so it would be unfair to start complaining about them just yet.

Rolling your neck to alleviate some of the tension, you paused mid-stretch, neck awkwardly craned like a gaggling turkey, when a man walked out. He was without a doubt the most attractive man you’d seen at the gym to date.

Thick dark hair that curled just above his ears. Warm brown eyes and an even warmer smile. Tanned skin that wrapped around arms that had just the right amount muscle: toned but not bulky. All in all, a good looking man.

You tracked him as he glanced around the area, looking for something—his eyes suddenly met yours and you straightened up in embarrassment—or someone. “Y/N?” he questioned.

You throat was so dry, it was painful to swallow. “That’s me.”

It didn’t seem possible but his smile grew even brighter. He stuck his hand out. “Nice to meet you. I’m Caleb and I’ll be your trainer today.”

Good karma most certainly at work here. How else could you explain being lucky enough to have the hottest guy in the gym be the trainer? Whatever the case, you weren’t going to look this particular gift horse in the mouth.

He gestured you forward with a wave of his hand and followed you to the main workout area. There was slight pressure to staying cool and collected with him behind you.

“I’m going to start you off with some jogging to warm-up. Do you want to use the track or hop on a treadmill?”

“Treadmill is fine. It’s what I normally use.”

You stepped up onto the belt and fiddled with the settings to establish a pace you felt comfortable with. The machine started up with a loud hum and your arms and legs began to pump. Normally, you’d have your earphones in to distract yourself with music but they weren’t that day so that you could hear Caleb if he said anything to you.

Good thinking, really, since he did indeed start chatting.

“So how long have you been a member?” he asked.

Determined not to sound steady, you took a few moments to normalize your breathing. “About two months. But this is the first time I’ve worked with a professional,” you added at the end.

It was hard to hear his laugh over the treadmill but the hitching of his shoulders gave him away. “Thanks, but I’m not really a professional. I just have a training certification is all.”

Huh. Attractive and humble. If you weren’t careful, you’d develop a full-blown crush in no time.

“A certification sounds professional to me,” you insisted. There. That wasn’t flirty at all. You were merely sharing an opinion.

Jogging passed by faster than it usually did even without music. Evidently, all that was needed to make a run enjoyable was good conversation and an even better view.

You powered off the treadmill and gradually transitioned to a walk and then a full stop. A single bead of sweat trailed down the side of your face but before you could wipe it away, only to stumble after being patted on the back by Caleb.

Those muscles were not just for show.

You had mixed feelings about him giving you props for completing the warm up. On one hand, you were a little insulted because even you could handle jogging for ten minutes. On the other, it was nice to have him flatter you. And he seemed to type to mean his compliments.

“Thanks,” you said almost like a question as you plopped down to stretch.

“Really,” he insisted. There wasn’t any level of patronizing tone that you could detect. “You’d be surprised by how many people I work with that complain about running.”

“Really?” you exclaimed with surprise. “I wouldn’t say I love running but it’s not terrible. Better than swimming anyway.”

“Whoa, now. I’ll have you know that I was a big swimmer in high school.”

The friendly banter about the woes, or in his case, the highs of swimming got you through the stretches he showed you. Occasionally, there would be a pause while he corrected your posture but once you fixed your position, the banter started up again.

Finally, you conceded, “I will admit that swimming did wonders for your shoulders though.��

He looked away with a bow of his head. He smiled but it was closed lipped, no teeth on display. Oops. That comment may have been a bit too forward. Rather than draw more attention to it, you diverted attention to the actual work out.

Seeming to be of the same mind, Caleb dropped it, too, and set you up at a weight bench. He must’ve have seen the doubt on your face.

“Don’t worry,” he assured. “I’m not going to have you squatting 300 pounds or anything crazy. Here. Take this and we’ll start with some dumb bell rows.”

He handed you a twenty-pound weight, the smooth metal cool against your palm. The weight was noticeable but not so heavy you struggled to hold it. A month or two of this and your arms would actually tone out pretty nice.

You peered subtly at Caleb behind you. You wouldn’t be at Caleb’s level, not just after a couple weeks but then again, you doubted most people could measure up to him even after working out everyday for a year straight.

Someone people had all the good genes.

You could’ve complained but found it much more enjoyable to appreciate the good view. In fact, it was the view that got you through the rest of the season.

“Thanks,” you panted around the mouth of your water bottle. A bead of sweat ran down your neck and you reached to wipe it off.

“You did great, really,” he said, the epitome of what a good trainer should sound like. “The scariest step is always to start so signing up for additional personal training will be a piece of cake.”

“Y-yeah.” Suddenly, your shoe laces fascinated you. “So…if I want to do that—more of this...do I choose you on from that list of trainers?”

“Sure thing. Or if you’d prefer to try someone else, all of the trainers are fantastic choices.”

“I think I’ll stick with you. As long as that’s not weird or anything…”

“Nope, not weird.”

You worked up the courage to look him in the eyes. Swirling irises of molten brown, you couldn’t help but be drawn into them. “Same time next week then?”

“Same time next week,” he agreed with a nod.

***

It had been a little over a month since you had started working with Caleb at the gym and what had started as one personal training session a week had turned into two, sometimes three. Improvement was happening steadily and you definitely felt a difference in your stamina.

Strangely enough, you were even proud of the small callouses that were starting to develop on the tops of your palms, under the fingers. They weren’t classically beautiful but at least you had proof of the work you were doing.

Having worked up the confidence, you’d also started doing some of the exercises Caleb showed you on your own. It was on one such day that you met him.

Another gym babe.

The first thing you noticed was his ass. Literally. He was in prime squat position and his short, though knee length and loose as they may be, could not hide his toned glutes.

You were embarrassed to admit that you were totally ogling him, like a dog looked at a prime cut of meat. You didn’t get star struck often, but damn.

The universe must have sought to punish you for the lack of propriety and your mp3 slipped through your sweaty fingers onto the moving treadmill, yanking the earphones out of your ears along with it as it flew backwards on the conveyor belt.

Recovering from the stumble your mp3 caused, you turned off the machine and gingerly picked out the music player, preparing for the worst.

Miraculously, the screen was still in tact and sounds was still coming through the earphones. You took another sigh of relief when you realized he was preoccupied by his own workout and hadn’t seen your embarrassing moment.

Something similar happened the next time you saw him a few days later: he was cooling down after having thoroughly trounced the heavy bag in the small boxing set-up the gym had. His arms looked so good in his cut-off tank (muscles and veins were all on display) that you froze with your mouth hanging wide open.

Another gym-goer did catch you that time but at least it wasn’t the god sculpted from marble.

You almost felt bad, like you were cheating on one of your crush’s with another which was ridiculous because Caleb was just a trainer and you didn’t even know the other one’s name.

Who knew that so much drama could happen in the confines of a simple neighborhood gym? Seriously, The Bachelor wished it could have as many good options as the gym seemed to.

***

You huffed as you pushed yourself up on increasing shaky arms. For a few seconds, you honestly didn’t think you’d be able to do it as your arms got stuck at a forty-five degree angle. Digging deep down, you managed to fully extend your arms.

“Nine,” Caleb counted. He was kneeling besides you on the yoga mat, counting, and adjusting your form here and there, while you did push-ups

Rather than descend slowly as was proper for push-ups, you collapsed to the mat with your arms squished underneath your chest. Rolled your head, you gave him your best pleading eyes and hoped he might take mercy.

That hope was misplaced. He gave a sympathetic smile and shook his head negatively. “Sorry, Y/N. We agreed on ten and by my count, you still have one more to go.”

“Can I not and say that I did?”

“Come on now. It’s only one more.” He waved his hands around like he was waving imaginary pom-poms. “You can do it!”

You managed a weak laugh. There was no way you could’ve say no. Your arms felt like they were burning but he looked adorable trying to be a cheerleader. An unbidden image of him wearing a cute male cheerleading uniform flashed in your mind and you thought he would pull one off well, what with his wide shoulders and sculpted legs.

Imagination got you through the last push-up and you groaned as you turned over on the mat, spread out like a star fish. “That was absolute torture.”

Caleb opened his mouth but was interrupted by a newcomer.

“Geez, man. You need to take it easier on your clients.”

Recognizing the voice, you found the other gym guy you’d been eyeing standing above you.

“Pogue.” Caleb held his fist out to the man who in turned bumped his with the trainer’s. Evidently, they knew each other.

Then they embraced in a full-on hug.

Okay, so they definitely knew each other. And it was hard to miss the parting caress to Pogue’s shoulders—what kind of name was Pogue anyway?—that was generally reserved for two people that were close.

Were they related? Dating, perhaps?

Your imagination fired up again and you wondered what they would look like wrapped even more intimately with one another…which was entirely despicable, you reminded yourself. There was no proof they were romantically involved, and, even if they were, it was none of your business.

The other two, who had been talking while you were maladaptively fantasizing, had continued talking and their conversation now turned to you.

“So who’s this?” Pogue questioned politely.

“This is Y/N,” Caleb introduce you. “They’re one of the people I work with.”

Pogue stuck his hand out to shake. “Nice to meet you. I’m glad Caleb hasn’t killed you off yet.”

“Hey! I am extremely fair with workouts, aren’t I, Y/N?”

“He is,” you said with a small smile, rocking on your feet. “Besides, he way too nice to ever become a drill sergeant.”

Pogue shoved Caleb lightly and Caleb elbowed him in return. “I know he doesn’t look like the type, but he was quite the drill sergeant back when we were both swimmers. He just hides the competitive instinct under his charming smiles.”

That peaked your curiosity. “No way, you guys swam together back in the day?”

“Spencer Academy was state champs three years running in our time,” Caleb admitted. “But nowadays I do my thing with personal training and Pogue more into MMA.”

“MMA?” you questioned.

“Mixed Martial Arts,” Caleb supplied. “You’ve probably seen him hogging the punching bags in the back.”

You most certainly had but you weren’t about to confess that to either of them. It would be too embarrassing and might even toe the line of harassment.

“You are more than welcome to share bags with me, any time,” Pogue grinned teasingly.

A thought hit and flowed out of your mouth before you could stop it. “You guys should give me a lesson sometime.”

“Oh. I didn’t know you were interested in that sort of thing,” Caleb said, surprise coloring his voice.

“Are you saying that you don’t think I can?” You weren’t sure what made you say it. It’s not like you were hardcore dedicated to trying it.

Whatever the cause it had Pogue chiming in save the situation.

“What prince charming means is that we would love to give a demonstration sometime.”

Caleb down at his watch because of course he still wore one instead of just using his phone like most other people. “Damn. Our hour is up Y/n and I’m late getting my next client. But we can hit the punching bags next time, if you want…?”

“Sure. Uh. Does Wednesday work for you?”

Both of the men nodded and Caleb called over his shoulder as he jogged to the lobby. “It’s a date. Schedule it online and I’ll approve it.”

The word kept replaying over and over. Date. Date. Date, date, date. He probably didn’t even mean it like that but it didn’t stop your heart from fluttering.

Waving goodbye to Pogue wit a promise of seeing him next week, you bounced off to grab your phone from the locker room. There was nothing wrong with scheduling your next session ASAP.

It’s a date.

_______________

Pogue boxing does make a fetching image. Pogue and Caleb in the ring sparring together even more so. Debating whether to make a part 2.

Caleb always seems to be the hardest for me to write so I hope he sounded okay in this. This has been sitting in my drafts for a while and I decided to finally post it.

Thanks for reading!

#the covenant #caleb danvers #pogue parry #caleb danvers x reader #pogue parry x reader #the covenant imagines

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autumnleaves1991-blog · 3 years

Text

Day 5: Holy - Llewyn Davis

Pairing: Llewyn Davis x F!Reader

Rating: 18 + for language

November Writing Challenge

Day 4: Tweeted: Benny Miller

December 24th, Christmas Eve, 1962

Christmas, the best time of the year. Your small studio apartment is decorated on every surface. Fresh garland draped around the window, a wreath with a large red bow on the back of the door, a small Christmas tree with twinkle lights and few bulbs of red and green. The room is as festive as you can make it on a small budget. It was a small luxury to buy the fresh decorations instead of the synthetic but to you it’s what makes it worth it. You go around lighting small candles, and the warm smells of vanilla fill the room. You take in a deep breath and smile at the glow from the lights.

You move to the small coat closet and pull out the two packages wrapped in old newspaper, wrapped with a large silver bow and you smile at the name on the tag before placing them under the tree. You move to the window and look at the picturesque scene outside. The blanket of snow on the ground was made almost brighter by the colorful lights bouncing off it. You turn over to your small heater and turn it on. Making sure the room is as warm as you can afford. This was a special Christmas this year.

Last week your sometimes “roommate” Llewyn Davis was making his usual rotations of couches when he came to you. During the visit you asked about his holiday plans knowing he usually spent it with his sister and her family. He got very quiet before telling you he and her had a small falling out and he honestly didn’t know where he was going to end up. You immediately offered your small home to him and after some deliberation he agreed. He was hesitant, worried about ruining your holiday with your family but when you told him you would be alone he agreed.

As you watched the snow blow thicker outside the window you began to wonder if maybe he got a better offer or made up with his sister and was now spending the holiday with her. Your thoughts began to grow sad before you realized the buzzer was ringing loudly in the small space. You ran to the door before pressing the button for the speaker.

“Hello?”

“It’s Llewyn,” can the slightly shaky reply.

You press the buzzer and walk back to your couch grabbing a blanket before putting the kettle on the stove to boil water. A few minutes later knocking draws your attention. You walk over to the door and pull it open gesturing for him to come inside. Wearing a threadbare coat, shoes leaking water on the floor, and shivering you begin grabbing his things from his hands. He opens his mouth to protest before you silence him with a look. He lets out a sigh lifting his arms to help you take off his coat, wrapping the warm blanket around his shoulders, you push him towards the couch.

Dropping to your knees you remove his shoes, and socks. Reaching for the slippers on the coffee table before sliding his feet into the furry shoes.

“When did you get those?” he asks, pointing to the shoes.

“I just had them around,” you gesture with your hand vaguely.

“Y- you just so happen to have a pair of men’s slippers in my size sitting around your apartment,” he asks, the shiver not quite gone.

You choose not to answer, rising from the ground back to the small kitchen pulling down a cup and putting a scoop of instant coffee inside before topping it off with the boiling water. You bring the cup over to him and you swear you can see the steam rise as his frozen hands envelope the cup.

“Where were you? I was expecting you here a few hours ago. I was beginning to think you forgot about me…” you ask.

“No...no I didn’t forget I had to go over to Jim and Jeans and get my stuff. Although I almost didn’t come I know how much of a downer I can be and I didn’t want to ruin your Christmas.”

You take a moment before answering, “I’m glad you didn't. I can’t tell you how much I have been looking forward to spending Christmas with you Llewyn. It’s all I have been able to think about.”

You look away from him afraid that you had said too much, you feel his hands slightly warmer from the cup take your own and you raise your eyes to meet his. “I’m glad I came too, I...I’ve been looking forward to this. It’s so easy to be with you, you don’t expect me to be a performing monkey like the Gorfeins or make me feel like a piece of shit like Jean. You just let me be myself and I love that about you.”

You smile brightly at him before you're interrupted by the sound of the timer going off in the kitchen. You hop up and slide on your oven mitts pulling out several dishes all at once. Fluffy mashed potatoes, roasted green beans, a small honey ham, and a cherry pie. Llewyn slowly rises from the couch walking over to you.

“I know that it’s not prime rib or a big fancy turkey but I wanted to do something special for us, plus we’ll have plenty to eat for the next few days, I’m sorry it’s not more I ju-” your rambling is cut off by Llewyn who wraps his arms around you in a tight embrace.

You let out a large sigh before you wrap your arms around his neck. He still feels cold beneath your hands. You pull back, placing your hands on his shoulders.

“Your skin feels like ice Llewyn, why don’t you take a hot shower, I’ll leave a change of clothes for you in the bathroom and make us each a plate. Does that sound ok?”

“Ok… but I don’t actually have anything else to change into, I haven’t been to the laundry mat in a few days. This is the last clean thing I have I wa-”

“I will leave you something clean in the bathroom for after your shower,” you cut him off before he can finish.

He gives you that look again, “you just happen to have clothes my size sitting around-”

“Just go take a goddamn shower Llewyn,” you roll your eyes at him.

He looks surprised at your outburst but doesn’t argue with you further. His hands slowly leave your waist before he turns towards the small bathroom. When the door shuts behind him you go to your dresser and pull out some boxers, dark blue sweatpants, thick wool socks, and a short sleeve white t-shirt. You hear the water turn on and the gentle sounds of Llewyn humming under the water before you slightly open the door putting the clothes on the toilet seat before closing it again.

You know he’s probably going to say something about the clothes, but you could care less. You cared about Llewyn and that included getting him some clean clothes, a pair of slippers, necessities. To your immense surprise he says nothing, only comes behind you and hugs you from behind tightly, a quiet whisper of thanks against your ear before he’s pulling back and helping you put the plates on the coffee table, pouring each of you a glass of red wine.

You clink glasses and dig in. You both have seconds and with your encouragement Llewyn has thirds, you’ve polished off a bottle and a half of wine and you’re both warm and comfortable under a blanket, your feet in his lap.

“Llewyn,” you purr, “will you play for me?”

Llewyn reaches towards his case and pulls out his guitar. You go to move your feet but he pulls them back and places one hand on your ankle keeping you in place. Balancing the guitar on your legs gently, “what do you want me to play? Something happy? Sad? Festive?”

“Festive, it is Christmas after all.” He strums the guitar and you fall a little bit deeper in love with him. The way he plays is like he’s making love to the room with his music, and god when he sings....

O holy night, the stars are brightly shining

It is the night of our dear Savior's birth

Long lay the world, in sin and error pining

'Til He appeared and the soul felt its worth

A thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices

For yonder breaks, a new and glorious morn

Fall on your knees

O hear the angels' voices

O night divine

O night when Christ was born

O night divine

O night

O night divine

A thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices

For yonder breaks, a new and glorious morn

Fall on your knees

O hear the angels' voices

O night divine

O night when Christ was born

O night divine

O night…

You can’t help the tears that slowly make their way down your cheeks and when Llewyn looks up from his guitar he frowns before putting the guitar down. His hands are warm and calloused as they wipe the tears from your cheeks and when he speaks it’s no louder than a whisper.

“Why are you crying?”

“It’s just...you're so incredibly talented and it breaks my heart that everyone doesn’t get to see that,” you tell him.

His smile is small and gentle before he pulls you closer to him so you’re sitting in his lap, his arms wrapped around your waist, your head in the crook of his neck, his own resting against yours. You're so warm and comfortable and when Llewyn starts to sing quietly your eyes grow heavy and you drift off to sleep.

December 25th, Christmas Day, 1962

The next morning you wake up and feel slightly disoriented not knowing exactly where you are. A strong arm is wrapped around your waist and a warm body is pressed against your back, a blanket draped over the both of you. You're on the couch and you turn as slowly as possible to look at the body behind you. His curls droop slightly over his forehead and all the creases in his forehead are smooth, he looks truly at peace and your heart beats a little faster when you look at his lips soft and slightly open as he breathes. You don’t move afraid to break the spell, his grip on your waist tightens before his eyes slowly open.

You both say nothing, but his lips pull up into a small smile which you quickly return. Your not sure what to call this thing between you, friendship, or something more. But, you know there is no one else you want to wake up too.

“Merry Christmas,” you whisper.

“Merry Christmas honey,” his words are slightly slurred with sleep.

“I’m going to get up and get us some coffee then we can open presents,” you don’t miss the slight droop of Llewyn's mouth.

“You told me last week we weren’t doing presents, I don’t have anything for you.”

“Are you here?” you ask.

He gives you that look again, “yes,” he says.

“Then I got what I wanted for Christmas this year,” you pull away and he reluctantly lets you go, letting out a small sigh. You know how much it bothers him that you buy him things, but at this point you really don’t care anymore.

You boil the water for the coffee, preparing two cups. Llewyn cracks your window taking a long drag from his cigarette. The kettle whistles and you pour the water bringing them over to the table. Llewyn blows the last of the smoke out the window before coming back to the couch. You go over to the tree and grab the two packages. One small box and a medium sized package.

“Two? Honey, I know what you said but I-”

“Just open it Llewyn,” you hand him the medium sized box first.

He tears the paper gently and when he opens the box his mouth drops open looking at the new brown boots, and wool socks. His eyes tear up, but before he can protest you are handing him the small box. He puts the boots aside, and carefully unwraps the box before pulling back the paper, and when he lifts the lid his breath stops.

Inside a gentle pillow of tissue paper is a single key. “Now I know what you are thinking, but hear me out. I didn’t give you this key out of pity or anything. I am giving you this key to my apartment because I want you to live here Llewyn. I want you to play at the Gaslight, gigs, and chase the dream I don’t want you to ever stop. But I also want you warm, fed, and safe. I want our days to be spent with music, laughter, and….” you trail off leaving it open.

“What honey?” he begs quietly, “music, laughter, and what?”

“Fuck…” you promised yourself you wouldn’t cry, “fuck it….I love you Llewyn. I want you to make music, and I want to support your dream and I want you to do it here where I can keep you safe and love you. I know you think that you have nothing to give me but I....I just want you.”

Llewyn doesn’t respond for several minutes and your heart feels like it’s about to stop. “Do you mean it?” he asks quietly.

You can only nod.

He scoots off the couch and over to you still sitting in front of the tree. On his knees he places his head in your lap and his hands sit on your waist. You don’t move for a moment before your hands run through his curls. He slowly raises his head looking at you, his eyes glassy.

“Fuck...you are the most incredible woman I have ever known in my entire life. I thought for so long that I was destined to fail in everything, my music, my life, my relationships. But then one night when I was at my lowest bleeding in a fucking alley this angel appeared. You took me home, cleaned me up, and I have spent the last year falling deeper and deeper in love with you. So if you are serious and you will have me, then yes I will move in with you and I will spend however long you have me...proving to you how much I love you, how much I adore you, and how fucking grateful I am to have you in my life.”

You release a sob and pull him by his shirt and when he kisses you can only describe the feeling in one word, home.

Day 6: Carpet - Santiago ‘Pope’ Garcia

#November writing challenge #day 5 #inside llewyn davis #Oscar Isaac #llewyn davis x reader #llewyn davis

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dudeandduchess · 4 years

Text

Sanemi x F!S/O: Money Talks (Modern AU, NSFW Scenario)

Summary: Sanemi’s fiancée comes to visit him for a meeting, only for him to see through to her real intentions right off the bat. Note: I got so inspired by that billionaire Sanemi thing I talked about earlier and I had to push off writing the Kyō porn star AU for this. Enjoy, bbys! 😂🍉🍉🍉

Warnings: Smut, Oral Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Dom!Sanemi/Dom!Reader, Mildly Pretentious Reader, Daddy Kink

***

The sound of her red-soled heels clicking against the marble floors gave (Y/n) more than enough confidence to breeze through all of the people ogling her. It may have been the cream-colored Birkin bag she toted, or it may have been the black knit Balmain dress, that clung to her figure, which turned heads; whatever it was, she could only relish in the attention she was getting.

After all, half the fun in dressing up was the attention she was sure to get with her astronomically priced outfits.

At the very sight of her, the security personnel right by the turnstile security gates opened all of the terminals for her, before bowing down so low at the waist that they looked like they were going to fall over with a single tip in the wrong direction.

She quirked an eyebrow at that, but deigned not to say anything as she let her confident strides carry her all the way to the elevators. Not a word was spoken by her, but with every person she passed, they uttered a quick and efficient ‘good morning, (L/n)-sama’ that only served to feed (Y/n)’s inflated ego even more.

It wasn’t a sin to be rich. The sin was to abuse her power and use it for despicable means, so she found nothing wrong with relishing in the respect that her money and family name bought her.

And with those thoughts putting a smile on her face, she boarded one of the elevators— with her secretary stepping in after her— before turning to the other woman. “Kaname, you can go right ahead to Sanemi’s secretary and ask her for the company’s stock exchange records, and the term deposit receipts. I’ll be in his office.”

Scrutinous eyes watched the numbers tick by on the small screen by the doors, never once flickering away as the numbers went higher and higher— until the lift stopped on the sixtieth floor.

The moment the doors opened, she didn’t even spare another second in the confined space; merely strode out of the elevator and bypassed the employees that had stopped to bow at her in greeting.

She was there for a purpose, and it wasn’t to be chummy with her fiancé’s employees.

With every step she took, the warmer her body became— not because of the cool temperature inside the building, but because of the thoughts that played inside her head. If she played her cards right, she could have what she wanted without even working for it; namely having Sanemi’s head between her legs and eating her pussy out until she was a shaking mess.

Little thought was put into the wheres or hows; all that mattered was that she got to cum. After all, she had cancelled so many meetings just to make time for him— since that was what he had been telling her during dinner the week before.

It wasn’t like him to voice out the need to spend more time together, so she decided to make an effort and actually give in to her urge to be with him— just for that day; or else her own empire would crumble beneath her feet, if she played hooky for Sanemi all the time.

When she got to his office doors, she didn’t even wait for anyone to open the doors for her, nor announce her arrival; (Y/n) put her hands on the door knobs and let herself in without any preamble whatsoever, not even caring that Sanemi had been in the midst of a call when she stepped in and closed the door behind her.

Pale purple eyes looked up at her with intensity that matched no other, which she returned with a smirk as well as a wink— that she was sure grated on her lover’s nerves even more.

In a few strides, the young woman had crossed the room and had already set her bag down on the floor right next to Sanemi’s desk— not even caring that most people would have screamed at her for committing such a travesty on a bag that cost a small fortune.

She couldn’t care less, as she rounded the corner of the table and perched herself right on the lip of the dark oak. The hem of her dress rode up higher on her thighs, exposing more skin to Sanemi— whom had swiveled his chair to face her, and had placed a possessive hand on her left thigh.

“Oh,” (Y/n) mouthed at him, as a catty smile played at her lips.

In response, Sanemi’s eyes narrowed suspiciously at her, which she blatantly ignored as she placed her right hand on top of his and slowly guided further up her lap.

The young man was slowly beginning to get hard in his pants, yet he put his focus more on the woman perched on his desk as well as the call that he had been on since he came in to work.

When he did nothing further than squeeze his fiancée’s thigh once more, her smile widened into a grin; getting up from her seat and reaching beneath her dress to slip off the lacy, black thong that she knew was Sanemi’s favorite on her.

His eyes followed the slide of the cloth down her legs, watching the scrap of underwear land at her feet before she stepped out of it— hooking it to the heel of her right shoe so she could pick it up without a problem.

The hand on (Y/n)’s thigh tightened even more, and a quiet gasp left her lips when she felt her lover’s fingers ghost over her bare pussy— as if to check if she really was naked beneath her dress.

Sanemi licked his suddenly dry lips at the feel of her damp slit, wanting nothing more than to hike her dress up to her hips so he could bury his cock inside her— but the person prattling off on the other end of the line kept him from doing just that.

So, with a quiet click of his tongue, he settled for circling her clit with the tip of his middle finger— basking in the quiet sigh of pleasure that slipped past (Y/n)’s lips, as she sat back down on the edge of his table.

And, to torture him even more, she dangled the thong in her right hand in front of his face, before laying it on top of the papers on Sanemi’s desk.

His glare narrowed at the scrap of lace, before flickering up to clue (Y/n) in to how much he didn’t appreciate that— since he just felt his cock twitch in his pants.

“Shinazugawa-sama?” The man on the other line asked unsurely when all he heard was radio silence on the young CEO’s end of the conversation, to which Sanemi bristled at. He couldn’t believe that he had actually got too lost in glaring at (Y/n) that he hadn’t answered the question that was posed to him.

“The best course of action would be to take over their future projects now; pull the plug on their current projects and make their clients choose our company-”

However, before he could continue, (Y/n) snatched the receiver out of his right hand and placed it up to her own ear. “Apologies, but Shinazugawa-sama will have to call you back. Something just…” She trailed off with a blatant look aimed at the bulge between her lover’s legs. “Came up.”

And with that, she dropped the phone back in its cradle; flippantly brushing off the way that her lover’s hand tightened even more on her thigh. It was most likely going to leave a bruise, but she did like to play things rough with him— so she really couldn’t care less about it.

What she did care about, however, was getting what she wanted from him.

So, she got up from the corner of his table and casually inched herself over to sit down on the very middle of it— right on top of his papers, and the thong that she’s placed there to tease him earlier. And with a slow drag of the tip of her right shoe against the side of his calf, she placed her shoe-clad foot on top of his left thigh.

Sanemi was about to swat her foot off of him, when she dug her toes into his thigh— grinning when he flinched at her unexpected actions. “Think twice before you do that, Daddy.”

Her words were said in a mocking manner, but Sanemi would be damned if he didn’t admit how much harder it made him— because for her to call him Daddy… even if she was teasing, only made him want to fuck her even more; make her submit to him in ways that he’d only managed to do when she allowed him full control of things in the bedroom.

“Really, baby?” He scoffed, trailing his hand up to her pussy once more and pinching her clit between his index and middle fingers. Her legs quivered at his ministrations, and her eyes fell shut like he had expected, which made him grin. “I don’t think you’re in a position to say that.”

Silence answered his words, making him chuckle as he played with her pussy even more— rubbing her clit between his fingers, and then trailing his digits down to her entrance so he could gather her wetness at his fingertips and spread it along her slit. He relished in the lewd sounds it made, but what brought him the most pleasure was seeing the way that (Y/n) threw her head back and presented herself more to him.

He lifted her other leg up with his right hand, slinging it onto his shoulder and holding it there as he pulled himself closer to her pussy. And, automatically, she hooked the other leg— which had been perched on his thigh— to his other shoulder; affording Sanemi a view that only he was allowed to see.

(Y/n)’s skirt rode up higher at her actions, but she shamelessly parted her legs further when her lover slipped a finger inside her. She sighed along with a moan, letting her head loll to the side as she felt her lover’s finger curl up within her.

“Such a slutty girl,” The silver-haired man uttered under his breath, leaning down so he could lick her clit— right before blowing on it and earning a stuttering gasp from his usually infallible fiancée.

He then added another finger in her at that, starting to pump his hand at a steady pace as he sucked her clit into his mouth. With every pass of his tongue against her clit, she would cry out and press her hips against him— as if she were so desperate to cum that she was letting go of the control she so desperately liked to hold onto.

And Sanemi almost believed that she was starting to become pliant— the more that he moved his tongue in her along with his fingers— until she reached down with both hands and gripped his hair tight, pushing his face into her crotch and moving her hips against him in a way that made the tip of his nose brush against her clit as she did so.

No matter how hard he tried to pull himself away, the grip she had on him would tighten— leaving him to retaliate by quickening the pace of his fingers, and adding moving his tongue faster in an attempt to make her squirt.

(Y/n)’s thighs began to quiver with the onslaught of pleasure, and her walls began to tighten around Sanemi’s fingers and tongue as she felt her orgasm approach. “I’m cumming, Daddy. Fuck. Your tongue and fingers feel so good inside me.”

Sanemi didn’t even answer that— he couldn’t, since she smothered him even further with her pussy.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck! Daddy!” Ragged and borderline breathless moans escaped her lips the closer she got to her climax, until she let out a shameless cry as she bucked her hips into her lover’s face; finally loosening her grip enough for him to be able to breathe properly.

With an irate sigh, Sanemi pushed (Y/n)’s legs off of his shoulder and got up from his seat, about to unbuckle his belt to free his cock when the woman herself reached under her to get the thong she’d inadvertently sat on— only to lean forward and use it to wipe away the traces of her climax on his face.

And, with a light kiss pressed to his lips, she tucked the scrap of lace in his breast pocket; patting the area before she got back up on her feet.

“I’ll see you later, Sanemi.” (Y/n) winked at him while a saucy grin tugged up at her lips. She then pulled her skirt back down to cover her modesty, and then reached out to cup his erection through his pants.

With that, she stepped around him and picked her bag up from where she’d left it. Not once did she look over her shoulder to see his reaction, because she knew him well and was sure that what she would see was a thunderous expression on his divinely handsome face.

“Thank you for the orgasm, sweetheart,” The young woman called out shamelessly the moment she opened the door to his office— earning bewildered looks from both his and her secretaries. “Love you.”

#shinazugawa sanemi x reader #sanemi shinazugawa x reader #sanemi x reader #demon slayer x reader #kny x reader #shinazugawa sanemi #sanemi shinazugawa #kny sanemi #kimetsu no yaiba sanemi #sanemi #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #demon slayer fanfic #demon slayer fanfiction #kimetsu no yaiba fanfic #jen writes

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nautiscarader · 4 years

Note

Max/Roxanne 3

Smutember day 3 - Striptease

Max/Roxanne, E, 1.6k

(Ao3)

If you liked my story, here’s a Ko-fi link if you’d be so kind ❤️.

The warm, summer air caressed Roxanne's hair as she walked next to her boyfriend through a slightly more rural part of their town. Despite the glorious weather, one could feel in the air the Summer coming to a close, and the two wanted to savour the most of their free time before they would have to go back to their college duties.

They did their usual route whenever they just wanted to wander around, circling the bend of the river that encircled Spoonerville's main area. Less civilisation meant the couple had more privacy and despite the urban skyline lurking from behind the trees, the nature gave the two a bit of idyllic setting for their dates.

- Have you seen that trailer for "Golden Gun" last night in the "Late, but Not Very Late Show"? - the conversation swayed towards the movies - I hope we can get tickets for those in October... - And find time between tests. - Roxanne casually added, cooling down Max's excitement for the next instalment of years-old movie series about secret agents - Come on, Roxie, we can have a weekend off once in a while... - Oh, sure, especially for that sexy red-hair agent he's partnered with...

Hearing the slight annoyance and resentment in her voice, Max stopped at once and took Roxanne's hand just so he can kiss her and beg for his forgiveness. Next thing he knew, she was giggling and twirling around him in her gorgeous light blue dress, just to make sure he understood it was all a joke.

- Chill out, Max. - she cupped his cheeks and gave him a kiss - I was just toying with you...

As if to prove her point she dragged her fingers through his hair and played with them a bit, while his face brightened with the same blissful smile she's seen so often when he was looking directly at her.

- We-we can go to something else, if you want... and if we have time, of course. - he added quickly to ease the worries of his much more responsible girlfriend. - Nah, that movie sounds fun. - she smiled - You're a fan of those, aren't you? - Oh yeah, I mean, they can can be a bit cliché at times, but they are just cool, you know. With the cars, and the gadgets, and the chase scenes, and the explosions... - And the ladies. - Roxanne added. - Well, yeah, I can't argue with tha-

It took Max a moment to realise that he's been walking alone for quite a while. Afraid that he might have bored his girlfriend again he turned around, and his words got stuck in his throat when he saw Roxanne's figure at the top of stony stairs between two rows of trees. It was the combination of shadows flickering against her skin, her sly smile and the curves accentuated by her dress that made Max's heart skip a beat.

And when his eyes met hers, Roxanne began walking down the stairs, mimicking the alluring movements of the movie star. She took much care in her pace, and tried not to slip on the partially worn-down steps, as she had something else on her mind.

Her hands moved to the decorative bow that tied her dress tightly and with a swift move she undid the knot, making her dress spread with the breeze, and her appear even more ephemeral and angel-like in Max's eyes. But the heavenly and innocent look was superficial, as Max suddenly realised what Roxanne wanted to do.

With great determination, he looked behind them, down the path-way, to see if anyone could spot them, though he only later realised that Roxanne would be able to spot any potential onlookers sooner. The split of a second of indecisiveness lost Max a part of the show, and when looked back, Roxanne was holding her bra in her hands, together with the strip of material that tied her dress together.

Continuing her seductive journey downwards, she swayed her hips as if dancing to some music only she could hear, and when she stopped mid- way, Max understood what she was doing. She lifted her leg, and collected her panties that fell to the ground and were dangling around her ankle.

As she got closer to her boyfriend, Max could see her dress becoming looser and looser, until just two moves of her shoulder made the straps of the dress slip sideways, and upon the next one, the delicate material succumbed to the gravity, uncovering Roxanne's naked body in its beauty.

Wearing just her shoes and a beaming smile, Roxanne leaned to grab the dress, as she approached her boyfriend, petrified and flabbergasted by Roxanne's bold choice. His brain couldn't decide what to concentrate on: her perky breasts, her scrumptious ass, or her flirtatious expression which showed that Roxanne fully forgave him for staring at her naked body.

It was her lips, pressed against his in a surprisingly soothing kiss that finally unclogged Max's brain and allowed him to stutter some for of coherent sentence.

- Ro-Roxanne! You-you can't-we can't-here! - You're right. - she answered. - We should get somewhere more private.

She grabbed his hand and lead him across the pathway, stepping into the copse. as it turned out, by "somewhere more private" Roxanne meant "behind a nearby tree just a few feet away". At the very least when Roxanne pressed her boyfriend against said tree, locking him with another kiss, they were not facing the path, and shadows might have hid them from any potential onlookers, though Roxanne clearly didn't care about that a few minutes ago.

But if Max had any objections regarding his girlfriend's choices and her spontaneity, they were all silenced when she gave him her clothes for safekeeping and kneeled in front of him, dragging her palm across the bulge in his pants. Their eyes met briefly, and even in the shadows of the trees, Max could spot inside them the fiery glimmer that so often accompanied Roxanne when she was horny. Her swift fingers undid his fly and when her hand slipped inside his shorts, she felt his body shiver underneath her touch.

The remedy for her slightly colder palm came at once in form of her warm breath that tingled with droplets of pre-cum on Max's head, followed by even warmer inside of her mouth when she engulfed him in a delicate motion. Despite him trying to not get caught, Max let out a prolonged moan that echoed throughout the trees as Roxanne's moist, welcoming mouth surrounded him more and more. Her tongue swirled around him, tracing the pulsing veins and gathering droplets of salty, musky liquid that announced his excitement.

But Roxanne didn't just want to taste him, she needed him inside her. Despite his protest, she got up and placed a single kiss on his lips, while her hands dived to take his shirt off. However, it turned out that for once Max has shared her passion for risqué love-making he disrobed himself breaking their kiss, and a moment later Roxanne found herself lying on a makeshift blanket made of his shirt and shorts. Her legs wouldn't fit on them, but that wasn't a problem as they quickly made it to Max's shoulders when he kneeled in front of her.

When his head pressed against her folds, Roxanne let out a short gasp and nodded knowingly at Max, giving him a clear signal to continue. And he did exactly that, sliding inside her without any effort, as her walls were well-lubricated, as she clearly planned their date to end this way. Roxanne threw her head back and watched as sunlight flickers through the treetops above her, but she spent most of her time with her eyes closed, letting the oncoming pleasure overwhelm her.

Though Max's endeavours were certainly pushing her closer and closer to her limit, it was the circumstances that drove her crazy, and at some point, Roxanne completely disregarded their safety, babbling his name in short, high-pitched moans that resonated around them. Max's voice joined her with deeper grunts and when she felt her legs being pressed against her body, she threw her hands around his neck, just to make him lean forward and make his thrusts easier.

Next thing she knew, her vision was filled not just with sunlight, but also white, just like her pussy accepting Max's streams of seed. The two students rocked their orgasms for a while, until reality started sinking in that they have been anything but subtle or quiet in their proclamation of love.

The two got up quickly, though Roxanne needed help due to her legs still being wobbly after her climax. She grabbed a nearby branch and was gonna reach for her purse, when Max already did what she had on her mind. It took a few tissues to clean up the mess he made inside her, but Max was meticulous in cleaning his girlfriend, which also gave him chance to kiss a few places he didn't before. He then took her panties and slid them back on, and proceeded with a bra, though here he needed a bit of help from her. Last came the dress, and as Max tied the bow around her waist, he sneaked last few kisses onto her shoulders, which made her giggle and shiver.

- Maxie... - What? Half the pleasure is dressing you up again.

She turned her around and pressed her against the tree again. Something told him that with a bit of luck, this won't be the last strip-tease of this Summer.

#Maxanne #lemon #max goof #roxanne #smutember #smutember2020 #day 3 #nautiscaraderfics #thatguywiththefaceog

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otterbeesfanficblog · 4 years

Text

When neutron stars collide

(Bakugou Katsuki x Reader)

EDIT: I’M SO FUCKIN DUMB I HATE MYSELF SO MUCH, I’M SO SORRY IT WASN’T Y/N THIS WHOLE TIME UGGGHHHHH!!!!!

Part 3: Compare And Contrast

Part 1: Steps Before The Starting Line Part 2: When A Star Chooses To Shine Part 4: From Where We Stand Part 5: You Would Be Angry Too...

[April]

"I know I shouldn't... but I feel powerful in this skirt."

You mumbled this to yourself, smiling proudly down at the skirt as it was when you walked. You were wearing the school uniform with leggings, comfortable dress shoes, and your shirt's top button was open as your tie was loose around your neck.

It took you en embarrassingly long time to figure out the tie, to the point you just asked Riji to help you, and as you made your way to UA, you couldn't help the slight pep in your step.

The voice that was angry before was vastly overpowered by your excitement, as normal kids were young their first days of school so they don't remember that moment of first. But here you were, 15 and your first time going to school was high school. At a well-known hero school at that.

To say you were a bit cocky was an understatement.

"Now, 1-A... 1-A... I knew this school was big but damn."

You held your school bag on one shoulder, it being emptied of the stuff you had in it before to be filed with needed school supplies.

"Oh, there it... the fuck?"

You stopped in front of a comically large door labeled 1-A, though you supposed that it made sense, seeing as there could be students (or teachers) that need a door this big.

"Well, here's goes nothing."

Sliding open the door, you were surprised to see maybe one 3rd of the class there. Glancing around you saw a seat open on the far side of the room in the front and you made your way over to that to claim it.

"Y/n!"

Your ears perk up to the sound of your name, turning you see Kiri quickly making his way over to you with a huge grin.

"See!? I told you we'd be in the same class!"

You smile and rub the back of your neck in a timid way.

"Yeah, guess you were right."

"So you're the girl that places second in the exam, huh!"

Looking over, you saw a pink skin and haired girl with horns speaking to you. She smiled at you kindly, coming up behind her were two other boys. One had blonde hair with a black lightning-like strike in it, the other plain black hair, and wore a friendly smile.

You felt a little over helmed with so many people, but you kept it under wraps and answered her timidly.

"Oh, well, yeah, that's me."

"We also heard you took down the 0 point robot all by yourself." The blonde hair boy spoke, giving you a wink. "That's pretty impressive."

"Eh... I had help from Kiri..."

"No way!" Kirishima shook his head, patting you on the back. "All I did was catch you, even then you took the brunt of it!"

"You and some other kid were the only ones to fight those things," The black-haired boy stated, smiling at you confidently. "You both took it down with one hit!"

"Other kid?" You tilted your head in confusion, Kirishima answered you first.

"There was a guy in center A that went after the 0 point bot too, he apparently knocked it in one go like you, then passed out!"

You felt heat rise to your face, you had cleverly forgotten about your own blackout during the exam.

The pink girl groan and threw her head back.

"You guys are already so cool, I'm so jealous."

"Oh, eh..." You pulled your bag off your shoulder and pulled out your astronomical theories book and set it on your desk to read while you wait for class to start, putting it down you waved her off. "I'm not really someone to be jealous of..."

You looked down at the floor with a frown.

"Trust me..."

"Come on, Y/n, you don't give yourself enough credit!" Kirishima cheered. "You did amazing and your quirk is out of this world!"

You stopped, looked him in the eyes and deadpanned.

"Was... was that a pun?"

He looked at you confused.

"Huh?"

"Anyway, my names Ashido Mina!" The girl held out her hand, which you took with your free one.

"Kaminari Denki, nice to meet you." The blonde, Kaminari, winked at you again.

"And I'm Sero Hanta." Sero, the black-haired one waved.

You smiled at them all and bowed at them a little.

"I'm Uchukyuzo Y/n, though you all might as well call me Y/n."

You all jumped with the door to the classroom slammed open, quickly turning to see what happened.

Standing in the doorway was a boy with spiky, light blonde hair, and a glare that went for miles. He glared around the room before scuffing and going over to the cubbies in the back.

Your new group of friends waved at you and walked over to the desks they were to be sitting in, while you watched the boy who just entered come down the aisle that you were in. Pulling out the seat to the desk behind you the boy glared at you, stopping his movements in sitting down.

"The hell are you looking at?"

You were caught off guard by his voice, not really expecting him to be so... rude. You just met and he was acting like you had both hated each other for years. You felt your blood grow warmer under your skin, and without being able to stop it, words slipped from your mouth.

"A rude little bitch, I guess." You glared back at him.

You heard someone in the room sputter and hold back a laugh, while the boy in front of you was shocked, then he was seating. Getting closer to you, his ruby red eyes glared daggers into you.

"The fuck did you say to me?!"

"I guess you're not only a rude bitch, but you're a deaf one too."

You didn't know why you felt the need to say anything to him, years ago, maybe even months ago, you would have let him get angry at you then let it go. But for some reason, the way he talked to you set a fire in you.

With no warning, you felt the front of your uniform get pulled into a fist, forcing you to drop your bag and step on your tiptoes. He held you up close to his face by the front of your uniform, glaring down at you as you matched his glare.

"Seems like you're asking to get your ass beat, space girl." He must have looked at the book on your desk as he growled in your face, you grabbed at his hand that was clutching your clothes with your own hand.

"I didn't think such a well-known school would let a delinquent like you in."

His hand that was free raised up into your view, and suddenly it smoked with small explosions coming from it. He gave a sick grin at you.

"You'd better stay outta my way, space girl, or you're gonna explode into an early grave."

You raised your own freehand, channeling the force you had collected thus far into your hand. Your hand glowed bright then poped with a small explosion like his, leaving little specks of light to fall as you continued to show off your own quirk with a smirk.

"I can do that too, smartass. The only difference is I can do it better."

He growled at you, and for a moment you thought you were actually going to fight, but then you heard a voice speak out.

"There will be no fighting inside the classroom!"

You both turn to see a tall boy with blue hair and glasses looking sternly at you both, the boy holding you dropped and pushed you back, scuffing out a 'whatever' before sitting down and throwing his feet up onto the desk.

Rolling your eyes and mutter out a curse you take the book from off your desk and put it back in your bag, you had a feeling you weren't going to get in any extra reading after that.

You walked past the red-eyed prick to the cubbies in the back, placing your stuff inside one before going back. You noticed now the blue-haired boy was scolding the red-eyed prick about having his feet up on the desk, which the prick didn't seem to care about at all.

You walked in front and sat in the desk, forcefully leaning back which made the pricks feet jolt back. You heard him growl at you, which made you smile, but you all sooner looked to the classroom entrance again to see someone standing there.

It was Midoriya, the kid you meet a while back, and was quickly approached by the blue-haired boy. The blue boy said something about him knowing something about the exam and him being better than him, but you couldn't stop the chuckle that left your mouth at this.

In the corner of your eye, you saw the prick staring at Midoriya, then stared at you. Not fearing his eye contact at all you turn to look him in the eyes, almost daring him to say something.

He bares his teeth at you in a sneer, to which you roll your eyes.

"Chill out, you angry pomeranian. I'm Y/n by the way."

"I don't care what your name is, idiot." He then looks out the window, avoiding your eyes, and you once again roll your eye.

"Just thought you should know the person you wanted to fight so bad."

You turn back around in your seat, watching from side glance the conversation happening at the door. You felt his eyes on the back of your head, though you decided to ignore it.

The first day at school and you already made an enemy.

"School is what you make it."

With a shake of your head, glancing at the boy behind you over your shoulder. He seemed to be lost in thought while looking at you, you took this as a moment to look at him better.

Ash-blonde hair, deep red eyes, fair skin, and a deep-seated frown on his lips. If you remember correctly, in any manga you've ever seen, he'd be the 'bad boy'. But, looking at him so lost in thought, the frown wasn't as harsh and his brows weren't strongly knitted together.

He looked like he was... reading you.

Going back to his eyes, you realize now it had been you who was staring. He didn't give you a scowl or sneer as you expected, his face just stayed blank as you both started at each other.

"I'm your homeroom teacher, Shota Aizawa. Nice to meet you."

Snapping your eyes to the classroom door, standing there was Eraserhead, and apparently, as he just introduced, your homeroom teacher.

You sat forward and rubbed your eyes from straining them to look at the boy behind you, thinking about what Eras--... Mr. Aizawa said then mumbling out.

"What's a homeroom teacher...?"

"It's sudden, but put this on and go out onto the field." He reached into a sleeping bag he was holding, you must have missed why he had that, and showed off a different type of uniform.

Why were schools so admit on uniforms? And what's the difference between a homeroom teacher and a regular teacher?! You sigh knowing you were going to have to read up on the school system, among other things, once you got back in your dumpster.

-----

"A Quirk assessment test?!"

You stood next to Kirishima now in the school's gym uniform, looking on at Aizawa as everyone was confused or complaining about it. You heard 'quirk' and 'test', so you began subtly stomping your foot into the ground. You had a lot of potential energy already, but if you were going to be using your quick a lot today you would need to build up more.

"If you're going to become a hero, you don't have time for such leisurely events. U.A.'s selling point is how unrestricted its school traditions are." Turning back to the class, he spoke to you all. "That's also how the teacher run their classes."

You nod subtly, muttering under your breath.

"Makes sense..."

"You kids have been doing these since junior high, too, right? Physical fitness tests where you weren't allowed to use your quirks."

Your eyes go wide as you look around at a few people nodding, and only one thought went threw you're head.

'Oh fuck.'

Having never been to school, you'd never done tests before. You knew what they were and what they involved, at least at the most basic level. You even tried once to train yourself, but that quickly was put on the back burner for the things you needed to do to survive like find food and make sure you weren't followed and killed in your sleep.

Training and regular workouts were a luxury for people who didn't have to worry about if they'd live to see tomorrow.

"The country still uses averages taken from results from students not using their quirks. It's not rational. Well, the Ministry of Education is procrastinating."

You cross your arms over your chest and let out a sigh, your brows frowning as you think to yourself.

'I can see why some people hate school now...'

"Bakugou, you finished at the top of the practical exam, right?"

You stood straight and dropped your hands, looking over and seeing the rude boy from before standing at attention. Everyone turned to look at him as Aizawa continued.

"In junior high, what was your best result for the softball throw?"

"67 meters." The boy, Bakugou, replied.

"Holy shit!"

You slap a hand over your mouth and look at the ground, already knowing and feeling people turn to look at you from you not so muttered outburst.

You were still tapping your foot into the ground this whole time, which had made a slight hole in the ground. You sorta wish you could blast a hole into the ground and just lay down and die in it, because why the HELL WOULD YOU SAY THAT OUT LOUD!?

"Anyway," Aizawa got the class' attention again. "try doing it with your quirk."

Bakugou made his way over to a marked circle on the ground while Kirishima gave you a pat on the back, you softly groan and lay your head in your hands and Aizawa begins to explain.

"You can do whatever you want as long as you stay in the circle. Hurry up. Give it all you've got."

You raise your head from your hands to watch, he stretched his arm first the raised them out and up while holding the ball. Reeling his arm back and leaning forward, he put everything he had into throwing it.

"Die!"

A huge blast came from his hand, sending the ball far into the sky. You heard someone mutter 'die' in an echo of what Bakugou had shouted, you also had a question about that but after thinking about his attitude this morning you suspected it was just... him.

"Know your own maximum first," Aizawa said, looking at his phone that must have held the information for the test.

None of you saw it land, but as Aizawa turned around and showed you, you all couldn't help but feel a little intimidated.

"That is the most rational way to form the foundation of a hero."

"750 meters? Seriously?" Kaminari stumbled out, looking over at you. "Now that deserves a 'holy shit'."

"I just met you today, but I can and will punch you." You said blankly, making him slouch in defeat and Kirishima chuckle a bit.

"What's this? It looks fun!" Ashido said with a chirp to her voice.

"We can use our quirks as much we want! As expected from the hero course!" Sero exclaimed, his hands clutched tightly in excitement.

Kirishima smiled over at you, but you couldn't feel the same excitement as the others, you only felt more intimidated by their joy.

"'It looks fun,' huh?"

At the sound of Aizawa's voice, everyone quieted down.

"You have three years to become a hero. Will you have an attitude like that the whole time?"

You were all silent in response, he smirked and continued.

"All right. Whoever comes in last place in all eight tests will be judged to have no potential and will be punished with expulsion."

Your heart dropped into the core of the earth at this, as did everyone else's around you when they all exclaimed confusion.

You'd been a fan of Aizawa's hero work for a long time and he didn't seem like a man who would joke around much, let alone about something like this. He took heroing seriously.

'As he should,' Your thoughts cut in, making you pause. 'I didn't come to this school to fuck around. I came to this school to get off the streets and be the best goddamn hero the world has ever seen, I came to prove that even someone as low as a fuckin cockroach like me can be a hero too'

"We're free to do what we want about the circumstances of our students." Aizawa brushed some hair from his face as he smiled at all you panicked students. "Welcome to U.A.'s hero course!"

With frowned brows, you clench your fist and started bouncing on the balls of your feet, already flowing with potential power. You couldn't lose, not at any of the tests. Unlike the students around you, you had to prove you were meant for this.

Not to say they weren't working hard to get here, but Principle Nezu had told you straight up during your meeting.

"If you weren't so heroically driven, if you were anyone else, you wouldn't be here."

You would show them all, that a homeless girl with only her name and her pride, would become the best damn hero in the world.

"Last place will be expelled?" Some girl with brown hair exclaimed in somewhat of a whine. "But it's the first day of school! No, even if it wasn't the first day of school, this is too unfair!"

You couldn't stop yourself from glaring at the back of her head, scuffing at her words.

"Natural disasters, big accidents, and selfish villains. Calamities whose time or place can't be predicted. Japan is covered with unfairness." Aizawa stared down the class, and though you could have been wrong, you felt as if he was talking about you as well.

You glared down at the ground, no longer bouncing on your feet, instead lost in thoughts of all the unfairness that has happened to you. But you shake your head with a sigh, now wasn't the time for a pity party.

You were professional.

You waited till you were back in your dumpster to cry, like an adult.

"Heroes are the ones who reverse those situations. If you wanted to talk with your friends at Mickey D's after school, too bad. For the next three years, U.A. will do all it can to give you one hardship after another. Go beyond. Plus Ultra." Aizawa then waved his finger at you all. "Overcome it with all you've got."

You looked down at the palms of your hands, letting them glow with power which made it look like stars were falling from your hands in a mist-like waterfall. You felt more determined than before, ready to show him you were worth the time of day.

"All right, demonstration's over. The real thing starts now."

-----

The first test was a 50-meter dash, which you had seen on tv in a store window before. Watching the others go before you was... interesting.

For some, the dash was their element, as easy as breathing. For some, they didn't look to be the best.

You were going after Midoriya and Bakugou with Kirishima at your side, which you were glad for. You knew his quirk and also knew he wouldn't laugh at you, because if you were honest... You had no idea what the hell was going on.

Midoriya and Bakugou got ready as the little robot sensor called out to get ready, then as the bot shot of a small bang they ran. As expected, Bakugou used his explosive quirk to propel himself forward almost like a jetpack.

Crossing the finish in no time, the bot announced 4.13 seconds as his time, which made your heart lurch into your throat.

"I'm glad I couldn't find any food today..." You put a hand to your stomach as Midoriya finished as well, going to a hunch with his hands on his knees.

"What do you mean?" You jumped, forgetting Kirishima was next to you. You waved your hand, not wanting to tell him or anyone that you had to scrounge for food like an animal every day.

"Oh, nothing."

"We're next, you ready?" He smiled at you as if not at all worried about failing. You couldn't even make yourself grin back as you both made your way over to the starting point, all you could respond with was a groan.

"What am I supposed to do?"

"Run?" Kirishima seemed confused why your question as he stretched his body out, looking on you copied his movements and then he seemed to understand.

"Oh, I see, you're nervous."

"Really?" You exclaimed in fake surprise. "I hadn't noticed...."

"Oh come on, you'll do great. Just think of something you'd run for and use your quirk with it, I know it's hard to think about using your quirk since you've never really done it during a test before, but I believe in you!"

'I've never done one of these tests at all'. You thought to yourself.

You and Kirishima got low to the ground, hearing the bot count you off. You were still nervous as hell, but you were going to use that nervousness as power.

"Think about something to run for..."

"Get set!"

Suddenly, you imagined the most beautiful thing at the finish line. Without even realizing it, your whole body glowed and a stary mist came off you.

BANG

Your feet barely met the ground as all you could think about was what was at the finish line, you weren't even aware of what was going on around you.

You then landed face-first on the ground beyond the finish line.

"2.09 seconds." The bot called out, you still laid on the ground, face in the dirt and unmoving.

You then heard someone running up beside you, the bot say off a time while they were panting but looking down at you with awe and concern.

"What the hell, Y/n? Not only did you blind me for a second, but you were also over the finish line in no time! That's amazing! What were you thinking of that made you go that fast?!"

It was Kirishima who was talking to you, but a few of the people you met today were coming up to you as well. You got up to your hands and knees, then fell back to sit on your heels and looked off far in front of you with heat covering your face, ears, and even traveling the length of your neck.

You were not about to tell them the reason you went so fast was because you were thinking about the comfiest bed in the world surrounded by comfortable clothes and endless amounts of food...

How embarrassing.

-----

The second test was a grip strength, which you knew you had none of, even with your quirk. For that test, you got 62.3 kg which was decent, but you knew you would have to work on that.

The 3rd test was 'standing long jump', which you just barely manage to land without falling over at the end. You felt bad for Midoriya though, watching as the tests went on, he seemed to be getting less and less confident.

4th was repeated side steps, which you were also not that good at. You watched a boy pull off purple spheres from his head, place them on the ground, and bounce off them from side to side. It was creative, that's for sure.

5th was the ball throw, the brow hair girl from before went and you all watched the ball disappear into the sky. You all waited for a while, then watched Aizawa turn and show you the results, which just had an infinity sign on it and you all exclaimed in awe.

"That's amazing! She got "infinity"!" Kaminari looked on with shock and slight fear, you assumed because he was sure no one, especially himself, would do better.

You were to go after her then Midoriya would go after you.

You took the ball in your hand, walked into the circle, and before you had done so you had taken off your shoes and were left in your black socks.

"Why'd she take her shoes off?"

"Think it has something to do with her quirk?"

"She had her shoes on before?"

You started to block out the class' voices as you jumped in place, making sure to really feel the vibrations of the ground beneath you. You also took in the air around you, the sun shining on your skin, the sounds of the wind along with their voices.

Though you knew you couldn't gain much potential energy from that stuff, you wanted as much power as you could behind this one. Infinity was not something you were going to beat, but you'd be damned if you weren't going to shoot for it.

So, standing still now, you reeled back. Your body and eyes glowed with power, the stary mist once again leaking of your body. Then, with a shiny glint, you leaned forward and put all your power into your arm, then hand, and finally your finger. You made the ball gain power along the parts of your body like a bullet, and the ball flew.

You watched it fly in the air, and it was bright and looked as if it was a shooting star in broad daylight.

Your eyes drooped and you felt a wave of exhaustion hit you, turning around to the class, no longer caring where the ball dropped, you unintentionally looked cocky as you yawned and Aizawa showed your score.

"1056.8?!"

Everyone yelled as you walked back over to the group, yawning again and rubbing your eye with the back of your hand. Walking past Bakugou, you heard him scuff at you, but you ignored it as Kirishima, Kaminari, Sero, and Ashido congratulated you and asked you how you did that.

Normally you would have answered, but at the moment you didn't have the energy to do so, instead, you watch Mirdoriya take his mark in the circle. Without knowing it, Kirishima pulled you over to him a little closer and leaned you on his shoulder, which made it hard for you to keep your eyes open.

"It doesn't look good for Midoriya if he continues like this." It was the boy in glasses that spoke, Bakugou giving him a dirty look in response.

"Huh? Of course not. He's a quirkless small fry, you know."

"Huh?" You, still tired as you were, perked up at what he said. "Quirkless?"

The glasses boy seemed to have a much more surprised response to that.

"Quirkless?! Are you not aware of what he did in the entrance exam?"

"Oh..." You looked at Midoriya who was concentrating very hard, then you nod and look over and up at Kirishima from your spot on his shoulder. "So he was the other kid that killed the no pointer."

"Other kid?" Bakugou glared at you, looking at you like you just spit strawberry milk in his face.

"You didn't know?" Kirishima, still allowing you his shoulder to lean on, reached around and gave you a pat on your other shoulder. "Y/n here destroyed the 0 point bot in her exam as well, one hit was all it took."

"Huh??" Now Bakugou's glare like was like a hot iron pan, looking at his red eye stabbing back at you. You were too tired for his attitude, so you looked away from him, which apparently he didn't like and got close and stood in front of your view of MIdoriya.

"Don't ignore me like you're some big shot, shitty star girl!!"

You weakly cover your ears and try to lean around him, your eyes still half-lidded.

"Can you stop fuckin' yelling, we all hear your loud ass. Now move over, I can't see past your inflated ego."

You swore you could see a vein pop out of the side of his forehead, but he turned when you heard Midoriya give out a shout while throwing the ball.

The ball went flying threw the sky and disappeared out of sight...

At least, that's what you thought it would have done.

But, it gently landed not too far away, the bot almost mocking him as said his score.

"46 meters."

"I... I was definitely trying to use it just now." Was all you heard him mutter as he stared at his hands in disbelief.

"I erased your quirk."

Turning to Aizawa, you clenched your heart and sputtered at what you saw. Standing before you was not Aizawa, instead, it was Eraserhead. His all too famous scarf circling his body as if it were another part of himself, his hair stand and flowing tall, and his eyes glowed red with his activated quirk.

You didn't have one, you've never actually had one before, but man you wish you had a camera at the moment.

"That entrance exam was definitely not rational enough. Even a kid like you was accepted."

You felt a ping in your chest at his words, feeling as if he wasn't just talking about Midoriya. Maybe you were reading into it too much, growing up you had to read people and quick.

"You erased my quirk?" Midoriya muddled, then gasped as he finally realized who your homeroom teacher was.

"Those goggles... I see! You can erase other people's quirks with your quirk just by looking at them. The Erasure Hero: Eraser Head!"

Your group of classmates then began muttering together, apparently not at all knowing who Eraserhead was. You pretended not to be offended by them not knowing one of your favorite heroes, continuing to watch Aizawa speak with Midoriya with great focus.

Your focus, of course, didn't go unnoticed by a certain ruby eyed boy.

"From what I can tell, you can't control your quirk, can you?" He glared at Midoriya, his quirk still activated as Mirdoriya stood stunned.

"Do you intend to become incapacitated again and have someone save you?"

You thought back to your own exam, you had also passed out after you had taken down the bot, not right away but still. You had used a lot of energy on it just to break it, let alone when you overused the energy you had left to keep you and Kirishima from plummeting to the ground and break like a couple of eggs.

"Th-that's not my intention--"

Midoriya didn't have time to finish as Aizawa's scarf pulled him in close, he still glared at Midoriya.

"Whatever your intention, I'm saying that's what those around you will be forced to do. In the past, there was an oppressively passionate hero who saved over a thousand people by himself and created a legend. Even if you have the same reckless valor, you'll just be decked and turn into a useless doll after saving one person."

"Izuku Midoriya. With your power, you can't become a hero."

Even you were hooked at his words, though a darker part of you said he was right and that Midoriya without power would be nothing.

Looking down at your hands, you clench your fist because without your power... You would have been dead a long time ago.

"I've returned your quirk. You have two turns for the ball throw. Hurry up and get it over with."

You stop leaning off Kirishima and move away from the group, not far enough for Aizawa to ask what you were doing, but far enough for you to stand on your own while looking at Midoriya.

Unknowing to you was a few of your classmates worrying about you... well, one was worried the other was wondering what you were thinking about.

Your thoughts were thinking of what Aizawa said and how it applied to you as well, how all the teachers that knew about you must be thinking of you. There was no possible way that they didn't know you were living on the streets already, you showed the signs of it and certainly showed it when you were at your exam.

Did they really not want you here? They probably didn't want the public to know they let in a stray. No, that couldn't be that Nezu wouldn't have let you in the school if so. He wouldn't have helped you understand school.

Were they using you for clout? Did they want you to become a hero to say you graduated from their school? Why did you even attend this school? You could have just as easily become a young hero with no help from anyone.

Part of you knew you were thinking too much, but that part was slowly being consumed by self-doubt.

"Smash...!"

You look up just as the ball rockets out of Midoriya's hand, shooting far into the sky and making you all stare in awe at.

"Mr. Aizawa..." Turning to Aizawa with a broken finger and clutched his hands with a strained smile. "I can still move!"

Everyone was shocked and excited by his achievement, getting just above Bakugou's score. Speaking of, you turn to look at Bakugou, but while watching him you're head round out the noise of anyone else.

His mouth hung wide open and he looked as if he had just gotten hit by a semi-truck, his body shaking from shock and ... rage.

"Oh no..." You mutter, bringing up a hand to your face.

You had only known this boy for a day and you could just feel he was about to pull some dumb shit, but were you going to stop it...?

Absolutely not.

"What is the meaning of this?" Explosions came from his hands as he suddenly dashed at Midoriya. "Hey! Tell me what's going on, Deku, you bastard!"

Midoriya, only focusing on his finger before, now had the fear of god's rage pass through him as he did nothing but scream and shake at the quickly approaching raging boy. All too soon a familiar scarf shot out and latched onto Bakugou which immediately stopped him in his tracks with a hard tug on his chest and head.

You cover your mouth to poorly cover up a chuckled that left your chest feeling light, a smile gracing your face as you walked back over to the class, taking a stand next to a highly confused Kirishima. You had no problem admitting it, you were enjoying this thoroughly.

"What the--? These cloths are hard..!"

"They're weapons for capture made of carbon fiber woven together with metal wire made of a special alloy." Aizawa explained, holding back Bakugou as Midoriya no longer feared for his life. "Jeez..."

Aizawa glared at the two boys.

"Don't keep making me use my quirk over and over. I have dry eye."

It's such a waste since his quirk is so amazing!

After releasing his scarf from Bakugou and also ending his quirk, the scarf wrapped around his neck once more and his hair dropped into place.

"So cool... and hot."

You hadn't even realized you said this out loud until not only Kirishima was looking at you funny, but Aizawa turned to glance back at you, his eyes narrowing on you.

You actually felt your soul leaving your body, Kirishima held you under your arms and fanned your face quickly, quietly telling you not to go towards the light.

"We're wasting time. Whoever's next, get ready. "

After knocking out of your close to fainting spell, you watched Midoriya made a wide circle to get around Bakugou to go back to the classes group. You hand put you burning head in your hands, peaking through your fingers as Kirishima rubbed your back telling you it was fine.

But you were more worried about Bakugou, who glared over his shoulder at Midoriya. He called him 'Deku' which... had to mean there was a past between those two. You wondered what kind, what it was like growing up for those two. As a kid, a lot of what happened to you becomes the reason of who you are as you grow.

What happened to Bakugou that made him so angry at the world?

Bakugou turn and locked eyes with you, making you drop your hands from your face and tilting your head at him. He sneered at you and quickly looked away, walking over to a place no one else was standing.

Ah, you thought to yourself, I see now.

A superiority complex.

-----

The rest of the tests were simple.

Sit-ups, which not only took you a while to understand, but you were shit at it.

Seated toe-touch, which you were personally proud to say you were flexible as hell.

And Long-distance run, which wasn't hard for you since you had a lot of running experience in your life.

Over this whole time, you were partnered with Kirishima, who was more than happy to be partnered with you. You both subtly talked about a lot of different things while doing your tests, like how he loves meat and the scar he had on his eye was actually caused when his quirk came to be.

You had opened up about a few things as well. You told him how you've never been inside a car or bus into the day of your exam, you told him how much you loved learning and how if you could live in a library you would, you even told him that you had run from the police once (You had run from them a lot more than once but you weren't going to tell him that).

Now you all stood in front of your teacher, ready for you're results.

"Okay, I'll quickly tell you the results. The total is simply the marks you got form each test. It's a waste of time to explain verbally, so I'll show you the results all at once."

Kirishima stood confidently next to you, you were pretty confident you did fine as well. To be honest, you didn't come in last of any of them, that lovely place was held by the boy who broke his finger.

Aizawa displayed the results projected from his phone and you and Kirishima quickly looked for your names.

Kirishima gasped and threw his arm around your shoulder bringing you into a side hug, you pat his arm with your own smile.

7. Y/n Uchukyuzo 8. Eijiro Kirishima

"Hell yeah, top ten!"

You chuckle at his excitement looking at all the other results. Upon seeing 'Izuku Midoriya' in 21st place, you grimace and look behind you had the boy. He looked so disappointed in himself as he glared at his broken finger, you then wondered what really was up with his quirk that made it so dangerous to use, even for himself.

"By the way, I was lying about the expulsion."

Silence range through you all as Aizawa said this, his face growing with a weird smile as he continued.

"It was a rational deception to draw out the upper limits of your quirks."

"What the fuck!?" You screamed, along with a few others who were freaking out. Upon you screaming, Kirishima took his arm off you and held them up in defense, smiling as you glare over at him.

"Did you fuckin know, shark boy?!"

He flinched and began a nervous sweat, waving his hands at you and shaking his head as you glare up at him and he feared for his life.

"Eh?! No way, dude!"

"That was a little nerve-wracking, huh?" Sero turned to you and Kirishima, chuckling a little as you glared up at him as well.

"I'll take up the challenge anytime!" Kirishima said, clutching his fist in a pound manner. He quickly put his hands down at his side going stick straight as you glared at him again, he smiled and looked anywhere but you.

"I don't know why you were worried, Y/n, you did great. You're in the top ten." Sero placed a hand on your shoulder, trying to take the heat you had on Kirishima off a bit. Both boys laughed a little as you sighed and your body went limp, shoulders slouched and head down as you suddenly felt tired all over again.

"It wasn't just that..." You mutter, thinking about everything that could have happened if you were kicked out of the school.

But with a shake of your head, you denied thinking about it and turn back to Aizawa.

"With that, we're done here. There are handouts with the curriculum and such in the classroom so when you get back, look over them."

You gently elbow Kirishima in the chest, him and Sero still chuckling at your reaction. To them, you were nothing short of adorable at the moment so they couldn't help but want to fawn over you while you pout and cross your arms, turning away, huffing in annoyance.

"Midoriya--" You look over and see Aizawa handing Midoriya a slip of paper. "Have the old lady fix you in the nurse's office. Tomorrow will be packed with even more rigorous tests. Prepare yourself."

"Hey, Y/n."

You turn your eyes away from Aizawa and Midoriya to look at Kirishima, who was smiling at you with a dumb look in his eyes, which made you sigh.

"You're giving off dumb-bitch vibes right now, so as long as it has nothing to do with me being naked, I'm in."

Kaminari, who had Y/n slowly making his way over to you're group, sputtered at hearing something about you naked and he blushed while laughing his ass off. Kirishima laughed while looking confused, Sero also laughing at what you said.

He shook his and rubbed his neck.

"You're something else, Y/n."

Glancing past the group of boys in front of you, you look to the one ruby eyed one who was staring at you from far away. You both stare at each other, ultimately, he was the one to glance away but you continued to stare as you respond to Kirishima.

"Yeah... I try to be."

#bnha #boku no hero academia #mha #my hero academia #bnha x reader #bnha x female reader #mha x reader #mha x female reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #bakugou katuski x reader #x female reader

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nothingelsematterswrites · 5 years

Note

Hello, I love your stories, this is my first time asking :) Maybe John/Brian with sub!Brian in the Hot Space era. John showing Brian who’s boss and why he won’t put up with Brian trying to change his songs. (All consensual ofc) Maybe Bri was just acting bratty to get John a little worked up and show his dom side?

John stops himself outside Brian’s door.

One of their first rules had been never to act in anger, and right now, John can feel it still simmering in his veins, steaming between his ears. Normally, he’s very good at partitioning, at leaving their arguments in the studio, but Brian had seemed set on being a particular asshole today, and it had driven John almost beyond the point of reason.

When Freddie and Roger are the ones taking away his liquor, he supposes he must be unusually cross.

It was just so infuriating. John knew that even though his songwriting isn’t as good as Freddie’s, or Roger’s, or even Brian’s, he still writes good songs. After all, it’s his song that’s still running out of record stores across America. Why Brian always has such a problem with his lyrics, he has no idea. And the bloody guitar solos!

John takes a deep breath.

No, he’s not here because he’s angry. He’s here because there was something in Brian’s expression as John stormed out of the studio; something pleading, needy. John’s here because he’d be an irresponsible dom if he ignored a look like that.

He takes another deep breath, and uses his key to unlock the door.

Usually, when their visits are arranged, Brian will be waiting, kneeling by the bed, usually already wearing his favourite collar and leash, sometimes with an assortment of toys spread out for John to choose from. But after the way the day has gone, John really isn’t surprised that Brian is not in that position tonight; he appears to be in the bathroom.

John takes another breath, and when he starts crossing the room, he’s surprised to find himself perfectly calm.

Brian is standing in front of the mirror, combing out his damp curls. It’s an arduous process, one that John knows if interrupted will leave Brian with a crazy mess the next day.

“Hello, Brian.”

He sees the shiver that runs down Brian’s spine at the tone of his voice, but, impressively, Brian puts the comb down with excellent control.

His eyes flick up in the mirror, meet John’s, and immediately drop.

“Hello.”

“You had quite a day today, Brian.”

John can see Brian contemplate resisting for a moment. He presses home his advantage. He knows it’s not good for Brian when he resists.

“Very busy, weren’t you? Making a lot of suggestions.”

And then Brian’s head drops very slightly, and all the tension goes out of his shoulders.

“Yes, sir.”

John smiles. All his anger has completely evaporated. “Come here, Brian.”

“Yes, sir.” Brian turns and walks towards John, his head bowed, looking up at John through his eyelashes, and John can’t help but kiss him, swallowing the sigh that escapes Brian and running his hands over Brian’s shoulders.

“Why don’t you go and get ready?” he says softly. “Then we can talk.”

John waits in the bathroom, setting out the super-soft towels they keep specially for these nights, turning on the towel-warmer, getting out the lotion and, after some thought, the bath salts. He waits ten minutes, giving Brian his space, and then heads out.

If Brian is sitting on the bed, it will be a non-verbal signal that he feels he cannot handle the extremes of their dynamic tonight. If he is in his usual position, well, John has some thoughts.

He’s quite pleased to find Brian kneeling by the bed. He’s wearing the choke-collar, lead already attached, and completely naked, his hands clasped behind his back.

John seats himself on the edge of the bed, next to Brian, and reaches out, stroking the curls gently.

“You made me very angry today, Brian. Of course I don’t expect the same behaviour in the studio as I do in here, but today, you disrespected not only my authority as your dom, but my very position in the band and myself as a person. I don’t tinker with your songs. I don’t mind friendly suggestions, but I won’t tolerate you trying to re-write my songs.”

Brian’s head dips lower. “No, sir. I’m sorry, sir.”

“An apology isn’t going to quite cut it tonight, I’m afraid.” John’s fingers tighten thoughtfully in Brian’s hair. “I think some further punishment is required.”

“Yes, sir,” Brian’s voice is almost a sigh of relief, which catches John’s attention; he decides not to address it right now.

“I think perhaps twenty strokes with the whip,” John says, as though pondering his decisions. “And then…well, it will depend on how good you are for me. Can you do that, Bri?”

“Yes, sir.”

“All right. I want you on your knees, hands on the headboard.”

Brian obeys, scrambling onto the bed and into position. John leans over to snap the cuffs into place and hears the way Brian’s breathing is already slightly ragged. He can’t help placing a kiss to Brian’s shoulder as he adjusts the collar so that it sits comfortably in the new position.

John quickly clips the longer leash into place and crosses to their whip drawer. He chooses carefully; a short whip made of soft kangaroo leather that Brian had bought him as a gift on their last trip to Australia. He knows Brian likes this one, and it marks him up rather beautifully.

After a moment’s thought, he grabs the lube and something else from their play drawer, and moves into position at the end of the bed. He takes his time settling himself, slipping off his shoes, taking off his belt, and unbuttoning his shirt a little until he feels relaxed. He lifts the whip in his hand.

John then turns his thoughts inwards, and harshly questions himself. Am I really calm enough to do this properly?

Satisfied with his answer - the fury he’d felt in the studio seems to have entirely dissipated now, leaving only a burning disappointment and annoyance - he raises the whip and strikes.

Brian gasps slightly as the whip comes down across his backside, but he dutifully says, “One.”

“Colour, Bri?”

“Green, sir. Thankyou, sir.”

“Good boy.”

John falls into almost a trance-like state as he continues, the rhythm of the whip consistent and regular, every fibre of his being intent on the connection between himself and Brian and the dynamic between them. Brian’s voice cracks slightly when they reach twelve, but before John can even ask, Brian immediately adds “Green, sir,” and John continues, occasionally tugging at the leash in his free hand to pull the collar tighter against Brian’s throat.

“Twenty.”

John sets the whip down. Brian’s ass, thighs and back are now beautifully decorated with red stripes, and he’s flushed and panting, his hard cock hanging heavy between his legs.

“Gorgeous. Good boy, you’re so good for me. Colour, love?”

“Green, sir,” Brian manages to say, his voice breaking.

“Good boy. You’ve been so good.” John kicks his jeans off and quickly tosses his shirt on the pile at his feet; as soon as he’s naked he crawls onto the bed behind Brian, and runs a hand over his back, feeling the shivers that chase themselves all over his skin.

“Tell me why that happened, Brian.”

“Because I disrespected you,” Brian says quietly. “Because I keep trying to change your songs and today I tried to change everything and disrespected your position in the band.”

“Good boy. I think your punishment will only last a little longer, you’ve been taking it so well.”

And then John slips the cock ring onto Brian and the guitarist whines, his back flexing. John waits it out, his fingers rubbing circles on Brian’s ribs, and after a few moments the older man is settled back in position, his breathing slightly ragged, and John takes a moment to smother his lower back in kisses.

“So beautiful, so good for me…just a little bit longer, that’s a good boy. Going to give you my fingers now, I know you like those, does that sound nice?”

“Yes, sir. Thankyou sir!”

John takes his time fingering Brian, knowing the older man loves the feeling, making sure to stroke insistently over his prostate, pulling back on the leash until Brian is nearly sobbing in pleasure. His voice is so ruined that John can’t help but check in again as he prepares himself.

“Colour, love?”

“G-green, sir, please…”

John rewards him by sliding inside, and Brian moans, long and loud and drawn-out, the most beautiful sound to John’s ears.

John fucks Brian hard and rough, knowing it’s exactly what they both need right now. They’re already both so worked up that it doesn’t take long for John to feel the tightness in his spine that signals his orgasm, and he leans over to kiss Brian’s shoulderblade and whisper in his ear.

“I’m not gonna touch you when I take this off. Do you think you can come untouched?”

Brian is almost beyond words at this point, but somehow forces out a “yes, sir, please sir, please, please…”

John reaches around and flicks the cock ring off, his free hand digging into one of the welts.

Almost immediately, Brian howls and comes so hard his whole body sags, clamping down like a vice and making John see stars. He hears himself chanting Brian’s name like a prayer as he spills inside him, dragging breathy little moans from his lover at the aftershocks.

John can’t move for a moment, but with release obtained Brian’s body is shaking, barely able to hold him up any longer. Carefully, he withdraws, hurrying to scoot up the bed and undo the handcuffs. As soon as they’re off Brian collapses, his eyelashes fluttering, John’s gentle push only just stopping him from falling into where his come has stained the top sheet.

John quickly crosses back to the bathroom, grabbing the towels, warm wet washcloths, and the lotion, and hurries back. Brian is lying right where John left him, so he sets to work quickly, cleaning him up and wiping away all traces of sweat and come and lube. His long fingers smooth the lotion into the welts, careful not to miss a spot, the cream soothing and making sure nothing got infected at the same time, though John was careful not to break skin. Then he rubs Brian down with the hot towels on his aching muscles, feeling Brian arch up under the warmth, something akin to a purr leaving his throat.

John rips off the soiled sheet, tosses it in a corner, and returns to the bed, before carefully unbuckling the collar from Brian’s throat and placing it carefully on the bedside table. Then, satisfied that Brian is properly looked after, he slides into bed beside him and wraps his arms around his waist, pulling him close to his body.

Brian shifts, his limbs tangling with John’s, curling into him, and together they just breathe.

“I love you,” Brian whispers. They’re always his first coherent words, but they never fail to make John’s heart do a backflip, even if it cracks slightly at his next words. “You know that, right?”

“Of course I do, my silly spaceman,” John tries to keep his tone light as he presses kisses to Brian’s hair. “And I love you, so much.”

The quiet after this stretches so long that John starts to think Brian’s fallen asleep. They still need to talk about today, and John normally isn’t over-keen on going to sleep with an unresolved argument, but at the same time, he’s even less keen on spoiling their much-needed cuddle time.

“I’m sorry.” It’s barely a thread of sound, but it sounds so sad that John’s heart nearly breaks.

“I’m sorry, too,” John murmurs back. “We’ll talk about it tomorrow, okay?”

Brian nods sleepily, and a smile curves his lips, before his eyelashes flutter shut again, dragging John with him.

#answering asks #my headcanons #breaky #dom/sub #sub!brian #Whoops it got long

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hadiden-lavellan · 6 years

Text

OC Interview Meme

fI was tagged by the wonderful @sakurabunnie and @stumblingsbalderdash ~ Thank you both

For Hadiden Lavellan

1. What is your name?

“Some people call me ‘Herald.’ I suppose that’s one name. Also, Inquisitor, Master Lavellan. Names and titles tend to blend together nowadays.”

2. What is your real name?

“Hadiden Edrin Lavellan.”

3. Do you know why you were called that?

“I’m not sure about my first name, something my mother came up with, or grandmother. My middle name is a namesake for my father’s brother. His brother was made tranquil at an early age, so he gave me his name as a reminder and a legacy.”

4. Are you single or taken?

“It’s that a bit intrusive?” Hadiden smiles. “Taken, for the record.”

5. Have any abilities or powers?

“Abilities or powers, huh. I’m a skilled hunter from my clan, learning to hunt at age five. I’m trained with daggers, but I’m best with a bow. I can sneak along the forest ground, in the trees, or on the street. I once learned how to pickpocket as well. Though, those are all taught abilities. I also wield power from the Fade, technically making me a mage. I can summon ice and fire the best, though I know a few healing spells. I could ramble about this all day, if given the chance. Does this not bore you?”

6. Stop being a Mary Sue.

“Is that an insult?”

7. What’s your eye color?

“I’ve been told I have blue eyes, as bright as the sea and as dazzling as the sky on a perfect summer’s day. In reality, they look like a normal blue to me.”

8. How about your hair color?

“Very blond, like a sunflower. I think I get it from my mother since my father’s hair is a couple shades darker.”

9. Have you any family members?

“Aside from Clan Lavellan itself, my parents and grandmother are my blood family in the clan. My grandfather on my mother’s side passed on a couple years ago. My father’s parents are dead. As far as I know, my father’s brother, Edrin, is still alive in Kirkwall. I heard a rumor from Varric that I also have a cousin, a young mage woman, in Kirkwall. I haven’t met her yet, but she would also be family.”

10. Oh? What about pets?

“I didn’t really have pets in my clan. There was one halla that I had brought to the clan that I liked the most. She was a sweet thing. With the Inquisition, I have a pet hart that I take to the field. She’s a beautiful and powerful creature, whom I adore. I also have a pet nug, but don’t tell Josie.”

11. That’s cool I guess, now tell me about something you don’t like.

“This is going to sound weird, but I don’t like my magic. I refuse to admit that I am a mage.”

12. Do you have any hobbies/activities you like doing?

“I can’t really read or write. I do, however, like drawing. I like drawing, walking through the forest, hiking, and sometimes baking. If I’m not doing any of those, I like to practice my archery.”

13. Ever hurt anyone before?

“I would prefer not to answer this one. It’s not an easy topic for me.”

14. Ever… killed anyone before?

“I hunt animals, so if those count, yes. It wasn’t until I was traveling to the Conclave and joined the Inquisition that I saw blood from a person.”

15. What kind of animal are you?

“I’ve been told a fennec fox. I’m going to assume because it has light fur and big ears.”

16. Name your worst habits.

“I tear at my nails when I’m nervous.”

17. Do you look up to anyone at all?

“I look up to my mother. Before she got hurt, she was a very skilled hunter. I dreamed of being as good as she was once I was old enough to hunt.”

18. Gay, straight, or bisexual?

“A very close friend once said, ‘I prefer the company of men.’ Does that answer the question?”

19. Do you go to school?

“My schooling came in the form of stories being told by our Harhen, my grandmother, and lessons in hunting under my mother and father. I would spend the day outside, practicing or listening to guidance. Once I joined the Inquisition, I was given a tutor to learn to read and write. That same tutor also helped me develop control on my magic.”

20. Do you ever want to marry and have kids one day?

“Figuring I can’t really have kids biologically, I hadn’t put much thought into it. I never really thought about marriage as a teenager or young adult. Considering who I am with now, if time and the future allows, I would adore settling down with him and taking care of children some day.”

21. Do you have any fanboys/fangirls? “Fan what now? If you mean the followers that believe I’m sent from the Maker, then yes. What is a fanboy or fangirl?”

22. What are you most afraid of?

“Losing control of my magic.”

23. What do you usually wear?

”Leggings that I normally wear for hunting, an tunic or large shirt, and no shoes. Sometimes Josephine will have me wear something formal for guests, or I will walk around Skyhold in my armor. It really depends.”

24. Do you love someone?

“I do,” Hadiden stutters and blushes. “I suppose he already knows.”

25. When was the last time you wet yourself?

“Wet myself?” Hadiden asked. “If we’re talking about spilling water on oneself, then last week. If we’re talking about urinating myself, I haven’t done that since I was around six or seven.”

26. Well, it’s not over yet!

“These things are never over it seems. Go on.”

27. What class are you? (High class, middle class, low class)

“I would suppose lower class. The Dalish don’t have a caste system really, though the humans would consider us poor. That’s fine. I liked how I lived. Once I was named Inquisitor, however, I was raised to a nobility title. I have power that is equal to that of the Empress or King of Fereldan.”

28. How many friends do you have?

“My whole clan, though I consider them more family than friends. But I would say, outside of my clan, I have about five or six really close friends.”

29. What are your thoughts on pie?

“I once stole a pie from the kitchen once because I didn’t want it to be served and I not get a slice. I think that says my opinion on pie.”

30. Favourite drink?

“I enjoy tea when I can get it. I drink a lot of water, try to avoid alcohol, and tea is very nice when I’m trying to relax. There was this drink, I think it was coffee, and I really enjoyed that.”

31. What’s your favourite place?

“The forests in the Free Marches. Those will forever be considered home to me. Since they’re so far, I really like the Emerald Grave and the mountains of Skyhold. Skyhold’s mountains turn into a fantasy land during the spring.”

32. Are you interested in someone?

“I would use a stronger word than interested,” he laughs. “But yes, there is someone.”

33. What’s your bra cup size and/or how big is your willy?

“I’ll leave that one to the imagination.”

34. Would you rather swim in the lake or the ocean?

“A lake. I prefer fresh water over salt water. I always get sand in my mouth when I’m at the ocean.”

35. What’s your type?

“My type of what? Weapon? Animal? Man? Can I get clarification?”

36. Any fetishes?

“What’s a fetish? Is that some kind of fish?”

37. Seme or uke? Top or Bottom? Dominant or Submissive?

“Oh- wait,” Hadiden stammers. “Those last two were sex related weren’t they? Dear Creators.” Hadiden’s face turns a bright red. “I would rather not say. That seems like a very invasive question.”

38. Camping or indoors?

“I could stay outside for the rest of my life if I was told to. I love being outdoors, under the stars, free. Though, I will admit, I do enjoy warm beds and warmer blankets in the winter.”

39. Are you wanting the interview to end?

“I can handle a few more questions. I feel as though most of these questions will no doubt end up in one of Varric’s books, however.”

40. Now it’s over!

“Oh! Surprising! I’ll be here if you wish to ask me anything else!”

Here we are! An ask meme after a long break! For now, I’m only going to tag two people. If anyone else would like to do this, tag me in it so that I can see it later :D I’m tagging: @mommydragon-of-all and @the-ultimate-french-fry

#hadiden lavellan #ask meme #dragon age #dragon age inquisition #inquisitor laellan #its been a while since ive posted #ive been busy with army stuff and such #but ill be back with more #hopefully soon

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iamartemisday · 7 years

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Jane Foster Week Day One: Space

A/N: Oh boy have I been looking forward to this so much for the last month and a half. :D I can’t believe the time has finally come, but here we are.

This first ficlet is a continuation to a drabble I wrote several years ago. It can be read here. The idea was that Jane accidentally sent herself to Jotunheim, where Loki has taken over and become king. This is what happens after he finds Jane and takes her back with him.

Hope you enjoy!

.01 Space

Jane woke up on a plushy mattress an indeterminable amount of time after blasting herself to an alien planet and being captured by the king. She was almost convinced it had been a dream when she heard the crackling fire (her lab did not have a fireplace) and remembered her bed was a secondhand cot in a dingy trailer. She opened her eyes and took in deep green sheets on a bed the size of a football field.

The room was even bigger and filled with ancient Norwegian artifacts, from the wall carvings to the decorative wooden shields. It was like one of those historical recreations they kept in museums. Except Jane doubted those phony beds stuffed with straw would ever be so comfortable as this.

The color scheme was decidedly green, with a little black and gold thrown in for good measure. Jane glanced down at herself and sighed with relief that she was still dressed. There had been no ‘bathe her and bring her to me’ nonsense. At least, not yet.

She was alone as far as she could tell. In a room this big, there was no way to be sure. The fire brightened as if aware she was awake and needed more light. It provided more than any fire should be capable of. She’d have to ask someone about that, she thought dimly, assuming this apparent hospitality wasn’t a ploy to bring her guard down. Devouring your prey was easy if they didn’t struggle.

Jane scooted to the edge of the bed. Her shoes were placed neatly next to an ornate armchair. Her jacket was folded and draped over the top. She left them for now, the floor carpeted and the room a pleasant temperature. Her first steps were uneven but quickly improved. Two chairs were positioned directly in front of the fireplace for maximum warmth, an oval-shaped table between them. She studied a dish sitting precariously on the latter, covered by a silver dome with dragon-shaped carvings around the rim. Jane was a scientific mind who prided herself in her critical thinking and problem-solving abilities, but it was at least a full minute before she realized the plate was meant for her.

She lifted the dome, fully expecting breakfast to be a bowl of mush or something not completely dead. The buttermilk biscuits with cream cheese and side fruit bowl, therefore, gave her pause. Jane picked nervously at what appeared to be an ordinary blueberry. It tasted like one too, once she mustered up the courage to eat it.

The door opened, apparently unlocked from the start. In walked the man from yesterday, the one the bigger monsters seemed to defer to. He did have a regal air about him, partial nudity notwithstanding. His red eyes followed her as she sank into a chair. A berry fell between her fingers and rolled under the bed.

“Good morning,” he said. He had a British sounding accent though Jane was pretty sure he’d never set foot in that country.

“Good morning,” Jane answered. “Um… I was just…”

“You may eat,” he said, assuming that was the reason behind her discomfort. He took the chair opposite her, steepling his fingers as she hesitantly took a biscuit and brought it to her lips. A mouth-watering aroma wafted straight into her nostrils, turning Jane’s fear to desire. She polished off the whole thing in two bites and immediately reached for another. “I take it you are satisfied with your accommodations?”

“What?” Jane asked with her mouth full. She swallowed and brushed some crumbs off her lip. “Oh yeah. It’s great. Um… I wasn’t expecting to have my own room.”

“Yes, unfortunately, the dungeons are currently full. You’ll have to make due until the mid-afternoon executions.”

Jane’s heart stopped.

He grinned. “That was a joke.”

If she wasn’t so sure he could kill her just by thinking about it, she’d slap him. “Oh, okay. Um… may I ask a question?”

“You just did,” he said, which was annoying and pedantic, but it wasn’t a no.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” Jane played with a rip in her shirt that wasn’t there before. She must have snagged it on something during the transport. “I’m technically an intruder, even though I didn’t mean to be. You could’ve locked me up for real or…”

He gave a thoughtful hum, then leaned back and crossed one leg over the other. He had ridiculously long legs and kind of amazing abs. “That is the question.”

What was that supposed to mean?

“It is true, in most situations, I would assume you a spy and have you killed on sight. And that is not a joke.” He added that last part when Jane nearly laughed out loud. “However, given the length of time since any of the nine realms have visited Midgard, I doubt you are more than a displaced traveller. That you arrived on Jotunheim of all places is an extraordinary case of bad luck, is it not?”

“I don’t know,” Jane answered honestly. She was sitting in a room more gorgeous than anything she ever thought she’d see in her lifetime with an alien king. “Is it?”

He pursed his lips, then got to his feet. With a wave of his hand, the flames died down. New artificial light took its place. It came from every direction, shining a golden hue on the walls. Jane stared at the multiple orbs in awe. None of them resembled light bulbs or flames. There was no point of origin. They’d just sprung into existence like magic.

“Your people call it electricity, I believe,” he said. “The method of lighting a room without fire… quite primitive if you don’t mind me saying.”

Jane would’ve been affronted and happy to defend her races innovations over the course of a few thousand years, but then again, there was a scientific impossibility happening before her eyes. The wheels in her head turned hard enough to break. “It’s amazing.”

His mouth twitched. “I have a proposition for you, little one.”

Jane blinked. “What kind of proposition?”

“That depends,” he paced before the fire, his long hair swaying behind him. “Do you wish to return to your homeworld at once or would you like to stay a while?”

“Wait, are you saying you could send me home?” Jane shot to her feet. “Like right now?”

“If you wish,” he said almost bitterly. “There are few corners of the galaxy I cannot find. Though before you make a decision, consider this: there is a vast universe out there your people have barely touched, is there not?”

“We’ve been to the moon,” Jane said lamely. “And there are probes as far as Pluto.”

He smiled the way a person usually reserved for a child’s macaroni art. “But my dear, you’ve been given a unique opportunity to see more. All you have to do is say the word.”

The curtains took on a life of their own, sliding aside in perfect synchronicity. They’d blended so well into the rest of the wall, Jane had assumed there were no windows. She was wrong. Without covers, there was almost nothing but windows. Jane beheld the skyline of an ice blue city, teeming with skyscrapers reaching for the stars. Speaking of stars, there were hundreds, if not thousands, twinkling like tiny jewels in the sky. Within seconds, Jane had mapped out five different constellations she had never seen before, and every which way she looked there were more. So many it made her head hurt and her heart soar.

“This… this is…”

She pressed her hands on the glass. When had she moved? She was by the fire a second ago. Now the heat of the flames barely touched her, but she had never felt warmer.

“This is merely a taste of what I can show you, little one,” he said, his lips a hair’s breath from her ear. “Say the word and I will give you the universe.”

Jane swallowed and nodded, her trance broken by the weight of one pressing matter. “But why me? You don’t even know me.”

He took her hand in his. He was wearing gloves for some reason. “I know you’ve accomplished something no one on your planet should be capable of. Not even Jotunheim has managed to create a bridge between worlds. You have achieved on your own what took the Aesir centuries.”

“I wasn’t completely alone,” Jane said hoarsely. The intensity of his gaze silenced any further attempts at modesty.

“The fact remains, little one, you are the most fascinating creature I have come across in all my years.”

How many years was that she wondered. He appeared close to her age, but his eyes were ancient. He could be well over a thousand years old for all she knew and if that were the case… either he was an excellent liar or Jane had just been given one hell of a compliment.

“Okay,” she said, breathing deeply. “First of all, if I’m going to stay a while, you have to stop calling me ‘little one’. My name is Jane Foster.”

Never did she think she’d see such honest to God joy in his eyes, though he covered it up nicely with a smirk. “As you wish, Jane Foster.”

The way he said her name was almost sinful. It shook Jane at her core and she was forced to acknowledge that in spite of (or perhaps because of) his alien features, he was incredibly handsome. “A-and, I need to let my friends know I’m okay. I can’t let them think I’m dead.”

“Very well,” he said. “We can send word to them whenever you wish. Now then, shall I escort you to the observatory?”

“You have an observatory?”

He chuckled. “Jotunheim has come a long way since I took over. Soon our cities and innovations will rival Asgard itself.”

They left the room, the door shutting and locking on its own behind them. Jane would have to ask her new friend about that later. They passed dozens of Jotunn servants and soldiers on their way to the top floor. All of them bowed before their king. None of them frightened Jane anymore as long as she kept close to him.

“Oh, where are my manners,” he said as they reached a glass elevator (they had elevators here). He took her hand and kissed the air over it. “You may call me Loki, son of Frigga, King of Jotunheim.”

“I think I’ll go with just Loki if that’s okay,” Jane said. The elevator arrived and he stepped back to allow her first entry. They were halfway to the top and looking out at the snowy fields beyond the city when it hit her. “I’m sorry, Loki? Like Loki Loki? Like… that… are you-”

“Save your questions, Jane Foster,” he smiled serenely, his red eyes no longer like blood to her. More like rubies. “We have all the time in the world.”

#janefosterweek #janefosterweek2017 #Jane Foster #Loki #Lokane #fanfic

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ashroseevans · 7 years

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Enter Mister H and Mind over Matter

Jumin Han and Jaehee Kang are Mister H and Mind over Matter and when faced with a super villain known as The Pyromaniac, they must find a way to stop him. But can they before it's too late?

Who is this new person who came into heal the injured victims from the fire and why does she want to know about the superheroes that protect Korea?

“Reports have shown that the Pyromaniac has set the area surrounding the building ablaze so that rescue units can’t save the hostages. The fire brigade is currently working on trying to put the flames out so that the rescue team can safely enter the build—”

Jumin pressed the button on the remote, turning off the television. He quickly pulled out his phone and dialed the phone number of his assistant, Jaehee Kang. She answered on the first ring.

“I take it you’ve seen the news, Mr. Han?” she said without any prompting from the other man.

“Yes. We should get going. I’m sure 707, Angel and Star will be there or be arriving when we get there. And if not, well, I think we’ll be able to handle this on our own.”

“Understood,” Jaehee said and the line went dead.

Jumin sighed and looked around his apartment before he spotted his cat, Elizabeth the 3rd, lounging on the couch. He neared her and gently stroked the soft white fur. “I have to leave for now, but I will return soon,” he told the cat who just looked at him, purring from the pets.

Once he was close to satisfied with the attention given to his cat, he disappeared into his room.

* * *

Mister H walked up to where he saw the black cat suited woman near the edge of the room. Star was standing next to her.

“So whats the situation?” he asked.

Mind looked at Mister H. “The building seems to be on fire, but the weird thing is…”

“Nothings burning,” Star finished.

“Nothings burning? What are you talking about?”

“The fire around the building is real enough and I’ll use my power to get you and Mom though—,” Star started explaining

“I really wish you would stop calling me that…” Mind said.

“Sorry about that… I can’t help it.”

“I hate 707 for starting that…”

“Please, let’s get back to the matter at hand,” Mister H said with a sigh.

“Right, sorry. But as I was saying the flames around the building are real and the ones in the building look real, but when I tried using my power to suppress them, they went right around the barrier so I don’t think they’re real at all.” Mister H frowned. Did the Pyromaniac also have illusion powers too? “Strange. Either way, we should go in and save those hostages.”

“I think its dangerous,” Star said. “It could be a trap.”

“Regardless,” Mister H said. “If there are hostages involved we can’t just stand around and do nothing.”

“I understand that, but we should at least wait for the others, just in case,” Star said.

“How about this,” Mind said. “Mister H and I will go in and you wait out here for the others and come in when I give the signal.”

Star frowned and looked at his two friends. But he sighed. “All right, fine. I don’t like it though.”

“You don’t have to like it. You just have to deal with it and let us go in there before something serious happens.”

“You really are…” Star muttered before he shook his head and walked away from them a ways to use his power get ready to create a path. “Once I open up a gap in the fire you have to go quickly because, well it’ll be really hot, and to be honest, the fire might form around the top again.”

“Understood.”

* * *

After Star parted the flames, Mind and Mister H dashed through. The second they got through, Star’s power faded and the fire closed again, leaving Mind and Mister H isolated from any help unit the others arrived.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Mind asked as she walked behind Mister H.

“It’s the only choice we’ve got,” he said. “We can’t just leave those people in here to burn.”

Mind nodded and the two walked around the building, trying to find a place to enter without being detected by the Pyromaniac. They came across a broken window on the west side of the building. Mind blew out the rest of it with her power and she and Mister H climbed through. They stalked through the building, trying to find the room that the dastard was keeping the hostages to free them.

Finally they made it to the lobby of the small hotel. The Pyromaniac was standing in the front of the lobby doors, standing grandly with a smile on his face, looking out at his handiwork. In the far corner of the room, Mister H and Mind noticed that there was a column of fire and Mister H thought that he saw darker patches of fire that looked almost like people. He nudged Mind’s shoulder and motioned towards the fire. Her eyes widened when she noticed what he was trying to show her.

Mister H motioned his head towards them and started making his way over as quietly as he could. As he neared the fire, he expected it to get warmer and warmer, but instead, the temperature stayed stagnant. However, before he got to investigate further, the Pyromaniac turned around and a wide grin stretched across his face.

“Ah, Mister H and Mind over Matter, so good of you to join us,” he said and spread his arms in a deep bow.

“You’re the Pyromaniac, then?” Mind said.

“Indeed. Don’t you like my handiwork? It’s all to prove a point,” Pyromaniac said.

“And what point would that be?” Mister H said and straightened up.

“Simple, that even with super heroes like you and 707, Star and Angel, no one is safe. Not even people vacationing,” he said.

“And how would you accomplish that, hmm?” Mister H said and stepped closer, attempting to use his powers of persuasion on the Pyromaniac.

“Simple, by killing you and the others,” Pyromaniac said and threw out his arms.

Fire flew out from his palms and reached out towards the two heroes standing by the column of fire that imprisoned the hostages. Mind threw herself out of the way while Mister H stood his ground, using his power of augmentation to make him impervious to heat. He ran forward through the fire, jumping out of the fire just as he started to augment his strength.

But he was too slow. The Pyromaniac swept his arm around and caught Mister H in the jaw, throwing him into the glass door of the lobby. Mind rushed in behind him and tried to throw her power out quickly enough to stop the Pyromaniac in her place. The joys about astral imprisonment is it works like a dream, but only when she’s focused.

The Pyromaniac had a hand facing out towards her when she stopped him in his tracks. He looked at her with a smirk before fire erupted from his palm straight at her. Mind’s eyes widened and she dashed out of the way, breaking her concentration. But that was all Mister H needed. Mind created the distraction while Mister H came up behind him and slide kicked the Pyromaniac’s legs out from under him, knocking him to the ground.

Mister H stepped over on top of him and pressed his shoe down on his neck.

“Looks like you’re plan failed,” Mister H said.

“You thats what you think,” he replied. The Pyromaniac started to fade at the edges. “I’m just the first wave. There’s more of us. The Savior and Mint Eye will throw this world into despair and then build it back up again as paradise. But first, we need you out of the way.”

Before Mister H was able to question what the Pyromaniac meant, he was gone completely and his foot fell onto the concrete.

“What was that all about?” Mind asked coming up behind Mister H.

“I don't… know. But we should talk to the others about it,” Mister H said. And then he remembered. “The hostages!” Mind and Mister H ran over towards where the column of fire contained the hostages. The area where the fire was was empty. Not a soul in sight. The fire also disappeared. And there should have been scorch marks on the ground from the flames, but there weren’t. Mister H frowned.

“Illusion magic,” he said.

“Illusions? But I thought only V could use that kind of power,” Mind said.

“That I know of,” Mister H said. “But I'm sure that there are others like him out there.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

* * *

Mister H and Mind walked out of the building only to be swarmed with reporters. They broke away as easily as they good, giving little information about the encounter with Pyromaniac except that the claims of hostages were false and he somehow managed to get away. When they finally broke away, the two met back on the rooftop where they left Star. 707 and Angel were there waiting for them.

“So what happened?” Angel asked.

Mind gave the run down of what happened.

“The Savior and Mint Eye?” 707 asked.

“That's what the Pyromaniac said,” Mister H said.

“Do you know anything about them?” Mind asked.

“I don't, but I can see if I can turn anything up about them,” he said. He focused on he small screens on his glasses lenses before he looked back at the others. “Note made. I’ll get the research done when I get back to my set up.”

“All right.”

“Well, since there's nothing left for us to do here, I think it’s about time that we leave,” Angel said.

“Agreed,” Mister H said.

* * *

-Jumin Han entered the chat room-

-Jaehee Kang entered the chat room-

Jaehee: It seems that we are the only one’s here, Mr. Han.

Jumin: For now. I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before Zen or Seven come online.

Jaehee: Can we talk about what happened earlier?

Jumin: Not here. You know this, Assistant Kang.

Jumin: We can talk tomorrow in the office.

Jaehee: Yes sir.

-707 entered the chat room-

707: hey

707: hey hey

707: How’s it going?

707: Oh. It’s only you two.

707: I guess that means Yoosung and Zen aren’t home yet.

Jaehee: What are you talking about?

707: Nothing, nothing!

-Zen entered the chat room-

-Yoosung entered the chat room-

Yoosung ★: did you guys here what happened today!? At the hotel!

Zen: Were you guys watching the news!?

Yoosung ★: …

Zen: …

707: Whelp.

Jumin: the answer to that question would be

Jumin: Yes. We did see the news.

Jumin: what about it?

Zen: That Pyromaniac guy got away.

Zen: What are w

Zen: What are those guys gonna do?

Yoosung ★: Yeah! What if they start another fire?

Jumin: We’ll just have to wait and see if 707, Mister H, Mind, Star and Angel will be able to catch him next time.

Yoosung ★: I think that’s a pretty lame answer.

Yoosung ★: shouldn’t they go out and try to catch him?

707: I agree with Yoosung.

707: They should probably go out and do something.

Jumin: I don't think there's anything that they can do.

Jumin: I heard from a reliable source that the guy just…

Jumin: disappeared. No trace.

Jumin: if that’s true, then I don't think that there’s much they’d be able to do about finding him.

707: Ugh.

707: I hate when you make sense.

707: you’re making it hard for my hero

707: To

707: Be

707: A

707: HERO

707: ★

707: !!!

Jaehee: One message please.

707: -3-

Jumin: anyway, I have to go.

Jumin: Good bye

-Jumin left the chat room-

* * *

A young woman sat close to the the tent where the wounded were laid out on cots. She was leaning over the fourth burn victim, her hands over the man as her hands glowed with a green light. The doctors stared awestruck as the woman as she healed the men.

When she finished the burn victim, she sat back on her heels and took a deep breath as pain lanced through her leg, the same spot where the man was burned. But as soon as it came, it disappeared. She stood up and moved over to the next man.

“Are you sure you’re okay with helping us, miss?” One of the doctors asked.

“It’s no trouble,” the woman said. “I just wish that I was here in time it try to help prevent this from happening.”

“No no. You’re doing more then enough to help us right now. Thank you so much,” replied the doctor. “Is there anything we can do to repay you?”

“Actually… can you tell me everything you now about Mister H, Mind over Matter, Star of Creativity, Defender of Justice 707 and The Angel?”

Read more Mystic Messenger Stories (and others) here

#mystic messenger #mc mystic messenger #jumin han #jaehee kang #707 #mystic messenger superhero au

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thepearlsourceposts · 5 years

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When thinking of 80’s fashion, the words ‘big and bright’ surely sums it up. It was a decade of big hair, padded shoulders, and eye-straining fabric colors and patterns. Fashion in the 1980s was about materialistic values and flaunting wealth. Having the right clothes meant spending extra money to buy designer labels and sports goods with a brand logo.

Although teenagers certainly played a part, for the first time, fashion wasn’t dictated by youngsters only; baby boomers such as Tommy Hilfiger were becoming mature and more affluent, and they firmly planted their feet among the upmarket fashion influencers.

The 1980s gave rise to more fashion idols than any previous decade. It’s hard to imagine now, but in the 80s there were no cell phones or internet, TV offered only a few channels, and watching a movie was a luxury. After television, magazines, and advertising were the average person’s main source of fashion information. Limited exposure gave a select group of celebrities, music bands, and eighties clothing brands the opening to exert a significant influence on 80’s fashion trends.

The Greatest Fashion Influencers of the 1980s

Fashion Designers and Clothing Brands of the 80s

There were thousands of fashion designers and clothing brands in the 80s, but some will always stand out for their advertising campaigns or merely because their clothes were so quintessentially the eighties.

Reebok, Nike, and Adidas sportswear: Fitness became a craze in the 80s and sportswear from these companies was so popular that it became streetwear.

Swatch watches: Every kid who wasn’t a complete loser had a few of these inexpensive plastic watches made with bright colors and patterns. Owning several was not enough, you had to wear them all at once.

Jordache, Guess, Wrangler, Levi, Gitano, Bonjour, Sasson and a whole plethora of jeans designers: Whether your style was mom jeans, skinny, or acid-washed and ripped, everyone had a favorite pair of jeans in the 80s.

Ray Ban: Famous for their Wayfarer and Aviator sunglasses, a huge pair of sunglasses were compulsory fashionwear in the 80s.

Issey Miyake: Issey Miyake’s designs concentrated on innovation and clothes were are comfortable to wear. In the 80s, he designed outfits that revolutionized pleated clothing.

Triple Fat Goose: Ski-outfits were popular with yuppies in the 80s. Their puffy, down-filled leather jackets inspired designers like Ralph Lauren to also create parkas in other fabrics.

LA Gear, Puma, and Converse shoes: Stars like Michael Jackson and famous athlete Joe Montana helped to make sneakers and high-tops a feature of the 80s.

Gotcha, Maui & Sons, and Lightning Bolt: These surf-wear designers promoted a carefree lifestyle, and because of their fun-loving reputation, the clothes became streetwear.

Coca-Cola: Coca-Cola collaborated with Jordache and made branded clothing popular in the 80s.

Benetton: One of the first big brands to step up and create awareness of social issues, ‘United colors of Benetton’ was a hit when it advertised boldly colored and patterned outfits in the 80s.

80s Music Icons

Madonna: Unquestionably the queen of pop in the 1980s, Madonna not only influenced music trends; her incredible physique and energy prompted many young people to adopt the Madonna fashion style, from lacy tutus and leather jackets to wild hair with velvet bows and scrunchies.

Boy George: As one of the leaders of punk culture and music, Boy George regarded 1980s fashion as art. With a philosophy of ‘anything goes’, Boy George and his American contemporaries like the Misfits helped to make dressing up and wearing makeup something not only the girls do.

Michael Jackson: If Madonna was the queen of pop in the 80s,Michael Jackson was the undisputed king. His power jackets, military-style accessories, and Jheri-curls African-American hairstyle continue as a fashion influence carried down the decades.

MTV: MTV (a music television channel started in 1981) and wildly dressed celebrities of the 80’s was a match made in heaven. It suddenly became much easier to spread a fad and rock stars appearing on the channel had an enormous impact on teenage fashion all over America.

LL Cool J: Hip-hop music and rappers such as Run DMC and LL Cool J left an indelible print on 80s fashion with fishnet shirts, boomboxes on the shoulder, high-top sneakers without laces, large finger rings and neck chains, and the now classic Kangol bucket hat.

Celebrities Who Shaped 80s Fashion

Princess Diana: Many 80’s fashion statements started with the princess, even though she professed herself entirely disinterested in fashion. Beloved by the world since she first publicly appeared with PrinceCharles early in 1981, people noted and emulated her every move. Diana was the force behind iconic 80’s clothing as diverse as the padded shoulder and feminine patterned silk blouses, the winged ‘Diana’ hairstyle, and pearl earrings. She also sparked bizarre 80’s trends such as wearing several watches at once.

Joan Collins: Joan Collins’ powerful character, Alexis Colby in the 1980’s TV show Dynasty, inspired countless women to perm their hair to gain the distinctive big hair of the 80’s. She showed women how to wear puff shoulders and bold patterns, and just how to apply all that peacock eyeshadow and blush. Teamed with a conservative blouse, her power suits became the uniform of women in the workforce who were starting to compete with men on an equal footing for the first time in the 80’s.

Jane Fonda: Jane Fonda was the first major actress to make an exercise video. Already making waves in the fashion world with her role in earlier movies such as Barbarella, she gained enduring fame for the leg warmers and leotards she introduced to the 80’s fashion scene through her fitness videos. Because of Jane, sports clothing walked from the gym on to the catwalk and soon became part of people’s everyday 80’s fashion wear.

Ella Macpherson: The 1980’s saw the rise of the first high-earning supermodels and they increased their popularity and fashion impact by endorsing household products. Because of product advertising, the faces and fashion style of models such as Elle Macpherson, Iman, Janice Dickinson, and Brooke Shields became famous in every household.

Movies and TV Shows of the 80s

The 1983 movie Flashdance represented the essence of the 1980’s style. Oversized sweatshirts for women, leg warmers, leggings, and asymmetrical details originally made popular by the movie, are all coming into fashion again.

In the cult TV show Dallas, everyone tried to become rich and glamorous, and 80’s fashionistas religiously emulated the dress code of actors in the show. When the show recently aired again, its parked an 80’s fashion revival featuring everything from Pam’s big hair and oversize knit sweaters to Ms Ellie’s pearl necklace.

The Calvin Klein underwear scene in the movie Back to the Future perfectly illustrates the power of brand name clothing in the80’s and how celebrity collaboration helped to put a brand on the 80’s fashion list. To this day, Calvin Klein tighty whities with logoed waistband are the preferred symbol of sensual underwear for generation X.

Miami Vice’s look might have been excessive even by 80’s fashion criteria, but predictions are that we will see many 80’s styles from the show such as sockless shoes, 80’s swimwear fashions, and pastel T-shirts trending again next year.

Streetwear For the 1980s

The extravagance of celebrities’ 80’s outfits was toned down in streetwear, but all the elements were there. The fabrics of the 1980s were unquestionably velour, spandex, and Lycra, with comfortable cotton and natural silk also popular. Severely tailoredmilitary-style suits and jackets with padded shoulders were worn side-by-side with printed t-shirts, velvet tracksuits,and baggy harem pants or leggings. One might think that with such divergentstyles there’s no cohesive look to 80’s fashion, but the style expression ofthe decade is united by its determinationto be bright, glitzy and bold. Ordinary people wore clothing in dazzling colors and patterns, emblazoned with slogans;every outfit was accessorized withwatches, sneakers, belts, and jewelrythat will always remain 80’s fashion in our minds, but continued making acomeback in future decades.

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Fifteen 80s Women’s Fashions

The 80’s female silhouette was slender with big shoulders and a pinched waist. 80’s clothing, from dresses to overlarge sweaters, were worn off-the-shoulder and skirts were mini or hemmed at the knee. Footwear included high-heeled pumps and sports shoes, and evensportswear was accompanied by many accessories.

During the 80s, women in charge in the workforce were still novel, and80’s office fashions were inspired byactors such as Melanie Griffith in WorkingGirl. Women dressed up for parties and special occasions more formally thanthey do these days, so women needed a variety of smart clothes and accessories.With the fitness-craze just starting, females of any body type were squeezingthemselves into leotards and bodysuits matched with legwarmers and a headbandto walk, take an aerobics class, or even justto exercise at home with a Jane Fonda video.

The power-suit: A sharply-tailored suit with wide padded shoulders like Jackie Collins’ was a must if you had an office job during the 80’s. With the skirt at the knee and the jacket cinched at the waist, the 80’s power-suit was made of glitzy fabrics in jewel colors and worn with a plain blouse by a designer such as Versace including heaps of costume jewelry.

Sheer tights: With short skirts showing off lots of leg, sheer tights were a staple in every woman’s wardrobe during the 80’s.

Lamé: From 80’s prom style to middle-aged moms at a party, every woman had a shiny lamé dress with ruffles and quite possibly off one shoulder. Lamé dresses were worn in dazzling colors, paired with high-heel pumps and lots of make-up and accessories.

Ruffles: Blouses and dresses with puff sleeves and ruffles at the neck were a necessity in every woman’s wardrobe during the 80’s. This feminine style favored by Princess Diana could be worn with everything from the power-suit to tight jeans for a night on the town.

Sequins: Sequins were a definite ‘thing’ in the 80’s, and you could find them sewn on to the lapels of your power-suit, sweater, or hair accessories as often as on glitzy evening dresses.

Animal Print: By the 80’s wearing real animal skin was a big no-no, but over-the-top animal-prints featured on everything. Name the animal, and you could find it represented in 80’s textiles. From leggings to handbags and sunglasses, bold prints of leopard, zebra, snake and even giraffe skin were the rage.

Leggings and stirrup-pants: Olivia Newton-John kicked off the craze with her skin-tight black leggings in the 1978 movie Grease, and by the early eighties, leggings started to replace fitted slacks for women.Try stirrup pants became popular, and towards the end of the eighties, women of all ages could be seen wearing leggings with a comfortable oversize sweater or large t-shirt.

Big sweaters: Flashdance popularized large sweaters over a tank top worn off one shoulder. Towards the end of the 1980s, sweaters were made of velour or other luxurious textiles and colors were muted.

Jelly shoes: In 1983, a buyer from Bloomingdales in New York saw jelly shoes at a shoe convention in Chicago and ordered them for the store chain. Despite being made of plastic, the inexpensive shoes were incredibly comfortable to wear, and the jelly shoe craze took off to such an extent that even great 80’s fashion designers such as Jean-Paul Gaultier added them to their range

Velour tracksuits: Velvety, stretchy velour fabric is both luxurious and comfortable, which is probably the reason the 80’s velour tracksuit was so popular.The Italian sportswear brand Fila made velour tracksuits that were so well-liked that celebrities wore them in restaurants and bars, and designers like Dior included velour tracksuits in their eighties fashion ranges.

T-shirts: In the early 80s, Katharine Hamnett helped causes to make their voice heard through political slogans printed on t-shirts and soon large companies such as Nike,Adidas and Guess realized the advertising potential of their logo printed on T’s. You could wear your 80’s style t-shirt with a logo or slogan, with printed letters, or in a plain bright or pastel color.The comfortable tee was a staple to wear with jeans or leggings.

Leotards and bodysuits: The 80s were a self-indulgent and self-conscious decade. Jane Fonda took advantage of women’s obsession with dance and exercise with her fitness videos and together with other fitness fanatics such as Cher helped to popularize sportswear leotards and bodysuits into functional fashion. This is one of the80’s fashion trends that is carried through in some form to every decade since.

Legwarmers: It wasn’t only Jane Fonda and the stars of Flashdance wearing leg warmers in the 80’s; leg warmers were every woman’s fashion statement, and sports clothes, skinny jeans, and leggings and a big sweater were all outfits that required legwarmers as a finishing touch.

Jeans: Jordache made tight jeans with skinny legs popular, but women also wore ‘mom jeans’ with a high waist and loose fit around the legs. Whether your jeans were skinny fit or baggy, during the 80’s stone-washed and edgy rock-style acid washed denim fabric was the norm.

Denim jackets: Denim jackets for women became popular in the 70’s, but the 80’s gave rise to the classic short-waisted denim jacket for women. Worn with tight jeans and paired with a t-shirt or ruffled blouse, the 80’s stone-washed denim jacket has become unbeatable as part of a classic American look.

Eighties Fashions for Men

In the 80s, men started attaching more importance to their appearance than before. The term ‘yuppie’ was coined as anacronym for the Young Urban Professional. For the first time in history, fashions for men played as important a role as for women, and many 80s clothing styles were unisex. Men started paying more attention to hairstyles and accessories, and thanks to music stars like Boy George, wearing makeup was no longer a taboo. Although male clothing in the 80s had bright colors and patterns in common with women’s clothing, men still tended to dress more conservatively, and their primary concern was for comfort.

Velour sweat suits: Men and women wore velour sweat suits in the 80’s. Fila, the Italian sportswear brand turned the classic velour sweat suit into the casual-wear staple for every man. Whether it’s the Italian connection or a mafia association sprouted by the 80’s TV series Sopranos, 80’s velour sweat suits became common for men from couch potatoes to trendsetters and remain popular to this day.

Logoed everything: 80’s fashion was largely about showing off affluence and style, and one of the best ways to do this was to wear clothing sporting the designer’s logo or advertising a brand. Everything from Disney to Harley Davidson and Coca-Cola was represented on clothing in the 80’s, and brands such as Nike, Gucci, Levi, Lacoste, and Tommy Hilfiger became household names.

Bomber jackets: Bomber jackets reached the height of fashion in 1986 after the release of Top Gun but even before that, as a useful leftover from military service they were a staple in many American men’s wardrobes. Whether made from nylon or leather, after the 80s bomber jackets became a classic staple.

The Power-suit: Men wore sharply cut suits with wide shoulders in the 80’s. The idea was to look powerful and authoritative. Dark colors with a chalk stripe and jackets with a banker’s collar were the most common style. Men wore ties in the 80’s in a variety of styles; as with most 80’s men’s fashion, ‘anything goes’, and you could choose between extra-wide Kipper ties, skinny ties, and square-end ties. Ties were plain, patterned, or sometimes printed with weird designs that are making a comeback.

Distressed jeans: Hard rock and heavy metal bands such as Nirvana, Sonic Youth, and the Pixies gave rise to grunge culture, and 80’s fashions for men included distressed and ripped jeans. If you didn’t buy designer label distressed jeans from a big name such as Guess or Levi, you could always make a few slashes across the knees and other strategic places with a box cutter. It was also a popular practice to ‘peg’ jeans’ cuffs, meaning they were rolled over tight to show off your high-top sneakers.

Spray-painted and airbrushed tops: Graffiti artists such as Fab 5 Freddy and Jean-Michel Basquiat plied their trade on sweatshirts and T’s and the hip-hop culture of the 80s together with Blondie’s music videos helped spray paint on clothing to become a favorite feature in 80s streetwear.

Gucci sweatshirts: Rappers like Rakim and Eric B. loved the Gucci brand, and the designer’s look was comfortable and stylish enough that even old-school men found their sweatshirts appealing.

T-shirts: A staple in men’s wardrobes since the 1960’s, t-shirts truly took off in the 80s. Whether you wore them plain, patterned or covered in slogans, every male wore t-shirts and the stars in movies, and music videos made muscle T’s famous too.

Polo shirts: Lacoste polo shirts in pastel colors and horizontal stripes were a necessity for the preppy 80s man. Ocean Pacific’s polos had a nautical appearance and were the ideal shirt to wear somewhere between a formal button-down and a t-shirt.

Penny loafers without socks: In the 80s, it was customary for men to wear penny loafers and moccasins without socks.

Parachute fabric: This lightweight and easy-care fabric was popular for sportswear and sweatpants in the 80s. Outfits made from parachute fabric often sported horizontal stripes or chevron design.

Harem pants: The forerunner of today’s dropped crotch pants, harem pants in psychedelic colors and dizzying patterns were a leftover from the 70s that carried forward its popularity in the 80s.

Fat laces: If you wore Puma or Adidas sneakers, fat laces were a way to individualize your shoes.

Jams: Brightly colored and patterned knee-length shorts, often with Hawaii inspired prints. These were fashionable beachwear in the 80s but also doubled as casual streetwear.

Eighties Fashions for Children and Teenagers

Children in the 80s were becoming more self-sufficient than earlier generations, and with many newly affluent households in the eighties, they had the freedom to follow the latest fashions. The MTV music channel and famous musicians and film stars of the decade made a considerable impression on teenagers and fads spread like wildfire.

The jean jacket: Every 80’s kid had one. Acid-washed or just worn to softness, one could rip out the sleeves, add pins and badges, or sew patches on it to express your individuality.

Socks for girls: While boys were getting away with wearing their sneakers without socks, layered socks and socks with lace edging were an 80’s fashion statement for the girls. Two pairs of neon socks worn one over the other, and ankle socks worn with heels were a bizarre 80’s fashion trend that seems set to return.

Tights: Every 80’s fashionista owned a pair of neon or cut-out tights. Worn with a miniskirt and denim jacket, it’s one of the most distinctive 80’s looks and one so horrible we have to hope it won’t return.

Vans sneakers: Skateboarding was a favorite sport in the 80s, and masters of the board were showing off their skills indistinctive checkerboard Vans slip-on sneakers. Kids who wanted to emulate Jeff Spicoli in Fast Times At Ridgemont High rushed out to get their own pair and soon even adults were wearing them.

A mesh top: Layered over bras and shirts for girls or worn rapper-style over a bare chest if you were a boy, teenagers loved to appear in mesh tops on the street or at a party.

Swatch watches: the name Swatch is a contraction of the words ‘second watch’, and that’s literally what these watches were in the 80’s. Inexpensive and made from plastic with bold patterns and bright color combinations, kids often owned more than one and wore them simultaneously. The fad might have started after Swatch noticed princess Diana wearing more than one watch, and they promoted wearing multiple wristwatches by using tennis stars like Ivan Lendl and Andre Agassi as their brand ambassadors.

Mini-skirts: Women of all ages wore their skirts short, but if you wanted a hip image like the girls in Teen Witch, you would not be seen in anything longer than an 80’s mini-skirt made of denim or Madonna-style layers of net and lace.

Lace gloves and lacy clothing: In 1984, Madonna sang her hit song Like a virgin on MTV, decked out in a white dress and lace gloves. Lace gloves and anything lacy immediately became a fashion hit and remained throughout the 80’s.

Platform boots: Whether you paired it with a mini skirt or jeans, platform boots and DocMartens were the footwear of cool kids in the 80s.

Neon everything: Blinding neon hues were a fashion feature of the 80’s, with one out of three Americans owning a piece of clothing in this garish and fluorescent color. Why was neon so popular? Neon was prevalent in the movies and on music stages because of its high visibility, and young people embraced the bright yellow, green, pink and blue hues because the makers of fluorescent colors presented them as youthful and optimistic.

Disney: Disney world was new in the 80’s, and a MickeyT-shirt was a must for younger fashion-conscious family members. In an era of increasing childhood independence, older children tended to wear clothes like 80’s adult styles, with bold geometric patterns and colors ranging from bright to pastel. Girls favored ruffled shirts, balloon skirts, and pumps with layered socks.

High-cut swimsuits: Bikinis were popular too, but a classic 80’s swimsuit would be a high-cut one-piece swimsuit like the babes on Baywatch wore.

Sneakers without laces: Rappers, hip-hop idols, and other music stars popularized the idea of wearing sneakers without laces. This rebellious touch must have appealed to teenagers because flopping around with shoes falling off your feet was a thing in the 80s.

Make-Up in the Eighties

In the 80s, makeup wasunnaturally heavy, bold, and colorful. Emphasiswas on the eyes with electric pink and blue eyeshadow and colored mascara was essential for thick darkeyelashes. Everyone blushed and highlighted theircheeks like Cindy Lauper’s, and lipstick tended toward pale colors.

Source: Hasshe

No one tried for a natural appearance in the 80s; Emphasis was foundation was best worn a few shades lighter than your natural skin tone and slathered on thick their cheeks, a bright streak of blush along the cheekbones to accentuate them to the fullest. Lips were was unnatural with dark lipliner, followed by a bright lipstick in pink, orange, and red. For a while in the 80s, very pale lipstick was favored, but towards the end of the decade, it returned to bright colors.

The focal point of an 80’s face was the eyes. Eyeshadow in peacock shades applied all the way to the eyebrows, followed by heavy eyeliner and lots of mascara. A smudgy look was popular, and often more than one color eyeliner and mascara were applied for a layered look.

Boy George and bands such as the Misfits promoted wearing makeup for men, but although it went a way towards promoting unisex styles for men and women, it was a style not many cared to adopt.

80s Hairstyles

Source:Hasshe

In the 80s, men, and women permed, teased and coiffed their hair to make it as big as possible. Hairstyles were massively large, curly, and heavily styled. Hairstyles from the 60s and 70s crept back into fashion with a few variations, and some fads like a rattail appeared and spread like it was contagious.

Princess Diana’s side-wept shaggy hairdo was loved in the early eighties, but later in the decade, most women wore permed hair coiffed into elaborate styles kept in place with clouds of hairspray. Scrunchies replaced the traditional elastic band, and the new stretchy cloth accessory was often adorned with pearls, sequins, and velvet bows. If you wanted to tie your hair away, a banana clip was useful, and side ponytails regarded as funky and fun.

Bands such as Bon Jovi and Nikki Sixx favored big hair, and many men permed their hair to emulate the style in the 80s. The mullet made a big comeback in the 80s, and TV characters such as MacGyver made the style appealing. ‘Elvis hair’, combed-back and plastered with wet-look products, was also a trendy hairstyle for men in the 80s.

African-American hairstyles were influenced by Jheri Redding, who wore his hair in loose permed ringlets. For a while, Michael Jackson copied this style, and Jheri-curls became very popular. AnotherAfrican-American hairstyle made all the rage by music was the high-top fade. From the moment Grace Jones was seen wearing it on her reggae album Warm Leatherette in 1980, black barbers were overwhelmed with requests for the style.

The skinhead culture started in London in the 1960s, and by the 80s it had spread around the world. Skinheads in America during the 80s shaved their heads. By the 80s, skinhead culture intermingled with punk and reggae and a significant number of youths who followed the style of their music heroes walked around with a bald head, or partly shaved head with hair spikes.

The rattail has been called the ‘mullet lite’ of the 80s and was most popular among boys. Whether you wore your hair short, in a mullet, or permed the heck out of it, a thin strand of hair at the back of your head was left uncut and hanged down naturally to make a rattail.

Accessories That Made 80’s Outfits Pop

Source: Hasshe

Fashions were bright and bold in the 80s but what really gave the decade its distinctive look was accessories. No outfit was complete without a large statement necklace, dangling earrings down to your shoulders and a clash of bracelets. If you were out on the street, a large tote bag and sunglasses were a must, and any physical exertion required the use of a sweatband and a boombox to complete the 80’s look.

Jewelry: In the 1980s, jewelry was large and distinctive. To match their bold clothing, women of all ages wore giant earrings, large beaded necklaces, stacks of bracelets, and enormous brooches. While the rich slathered themselves in gold and gemstones, for the most part, people preferred costume jewelry crusted with rhinestones. In the 80s, jewelry was not just a fashion accessory; it was a personality statement. Teenagers had their own culture of jelly bracelets and woven friendship bracelets, plastic watches, and beaded necklaces. Boy George and Michael Jackson could be seen on stage with large brooches and rappers wound themselves in gold chain and ostentatious gold rings, but for the most part, men of the 80s didn’t wear conspicuous jewelry.

Sunglasses and big-eyed spectacles: Sunglasses in the 80’s had giant frames and sported colored or mirror lenses. Wayfarers and Aviators by Rayban, and Vuarnet were some of the most popular 80s sunglasses, but there were many knock-off brands too. If you wore fashionable eyeglasses in the 80’s, they were oversized, with plastic frames.

Boomboxes: Music was the soul of the 80s, and the only way you could take it with you was a boom box. Walking around with a huge silver radio on your shoulder became an emblem of the 80s ‘in’ crowd.

Tote bags: Tote bags were a favorite fashion accessory in the 80s. Companies such as LL Bean were already selling them for years, but in 1980, The Strand bookstore in New York started promoting their own version of the bag. Companies like Esprit also made distinctive tote bags in the 80s, and they’ve become a classic fashion collectible, still selling thousands every year.

Fanny pack: Fanny packs became popular with tourists in the 80s, then crept into the fashion scene, and finally became a useful accessory for everyone from joggers and cyclists to parents who need their hands free to manage their kids.Although fanny packs are not as popular as in the 80s, they are still important enough for designers like LouisVuitton to include them in their ranges.

Women’s belts: Wide belts with an elaborate buckle were popular and could be worn at the waist, or on the hips. Elastic belts were also worn to rein in over large sweaters and blouses.

Headbands: Starting with the fitness movement, eventually everyone from joggers in the park to Karate Kid and rock stars like Bruce Springsteen and Olivia Newton-John wore headbands in the 80’s. The terry-cloth headband went from a practical sports accessory to a fashion ornament in bright neon colors during the80’s, and everyone who was cool styled their hair around a headband.

If you’re old enough to feel a bit sheepish when you catch a glimpse of yourself in an 80’s photo today, don’t. It was one of the most iconic fashion decades so far and living through the 80s; you helped shape today’s style. Everything from spandex, teal eyeliner, and velour tracksuits to the neon shoelaces which defined 1980s fashion have become trend leaders and gave birth to throwback fashion influences that are predicted to continue to pop up in decades to come. Any day now, you will be able to dig out that pair of Day-Glo sneakers from the back of your cupboard and wear them again with pride.

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