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#but they would have eased their conscious
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Winter's King 14
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No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)
Characters: Geralt of Rivia
Note: Another work week :(
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
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Not long after the king’s departure, Lord Jaskier excuses himself to see to his horse. Queen Jazlene sends him off with a similar quip about serious matters. You don’t quite understand her. She should be concerned with the weeks of travel ahead of her, not only of the time, but of the climate. 
She finishes the bottle on her own. Much of it went to her cup. You think of warning her but it isn’t your place. You can only watch her head wobble as that hazy look softens her features. On her last gulp, a droplet trickles down her chin. You suspect she might be as unhappy as her husband claimed of himself the previous night. They make a rather sad pairing. 
It’s early still. Perhaps once they are settled, it won’t be so tense. They will have a chance to know each other better without the stresses of a war or the road ahead. 
Your thoughts stray and your vision fogs as you stare at a blue tapestry. Jazlene continues to babble and suddenly, the clink of her cup jolts you from your trance. You look at her as she slumps against the table. Her shoulders are slack, her arms bent around her head as it droops onto the wood. You can see her breath as she hunches weakly in her chair. 
“Your highness?” You call to her. You sway on your feet as you watch her. Come on, move. “Your highness?” You take a step toward her, “Lady Jazlene?” 
She groans and slips to the side. You rush around without a thought to catch her. She garbles drunkenly as you hold her in her arms, one leg still on the seat as her other hangs limply. She’s heavier than you would expect. 
“Your highness?” You squeak as you struggle to keep her off the ground. You can’t drop the queen. 
Her head lolls as her lashes flutter. She is certainly not conscious. The acrid scent of wine rises from her lips. You try to hike her higher, slinging her arm around your shoulder as you grunt. She’s not that big, you’re just weak. You can carry a cask or a chest, but a person is a much different matter. 
You wrap your arms around her and haul her around the table. Her slippers drag and you clatter into the chairs and nearly trip on the edge of the rug. Your leg muscles thrum with the effort and your back racks. You look around. The bedchamber is too far. 
You turn and little by little, step by step, drag her to the couch. Her feet loudly scrape across the floor. You angle her around with another laboured grunt and as you do, the hinges whine and the left door opens. You look up as the king enters and your lips part in surprise. You’ve been caught. Rather, the queen has. 
He stares at you and eases shut the door. He comes around as your arms quake. He wordlessly takes his wife from your grasp and lays her across the sofa. You put a pillow under her head and back up, rubbing your upper arms. 
“Your highness, she was not feeling well,” you say. 
“She has drunk herself into a stupor,” he snarls as he backs up, crossing his arms as he glares down at her. “Do not lie, especially on her behalf. It does not become you.” 
“Your highness, I apologise. I only worry for her--” 
“You shouldn’t,” he intones, “she doesn’t worry for you. Or me. Or anyone but herself.” He turns and goes to the table. He rights the overturned cup and you reproach yourself for not doing so first. “But I do appreciate you attending to her. I’d rather not have found her upon the floor.” 
“Your highness,” you bow your head. 
He’s quiet. You’re unsure what to do next. Should you leave him with Jazlene or stay to tend to her? He will need sleep for the ride. 
“Little maid, you will send to have a bath drawn. There will be little chance to wash upon the road,” he commands. 
“As you wish, your highness.” 
“Mm, if only,” he murmurs as she sits and grabs the empty bottle, sneering at its hollowness. 
You set off to have water brought to his chamber. You assist the other servants in carrying the vessels of steaming water. All the while, the king ruminates at the table. He picks at his index finger and his cheek ticks. When at last the tub is full, you go to trail out after the castle servants. 
“Little maid, I require assistance,” he says. 
You remain and the doors close in the tension. You watch the king, your fingers twined together as you cautiously approach. He glowers at his fingers and huffs. 
“You have small hands,” he rests his palm open on the table, “please, I would have use of them.” 
Curious, you move towards him. He turns to you and holds out his large hand. He pokes his index fingers up and hisses. 
“I got it on the door. A splinter,” he explains. 
You see the dark spot, just the minuscule tip of it poking above his rough skin. The skin around it is inflamed, both from the sliver and his fussing. You bring your hands to cradle his single one and lean to have a closer look. You keep one hand under his and slip the other down the side of his palm. 
You brush your fingertips over the lines of his knuckles. He’s quiet as he lets you gently squeeze. You glance up beneath your lashes. 
“It might hurt, your highness. Apologies.” 
His cheek twitches, “I’ve had worse than a maid’s touch.” 
You squeeze until his flesh his taut. You pinch the tip of the splinter with your other fingers, using your nails to get a grip of it. You pull slowly. Very slowly, terrified of losing hold and having it go deeper. The wooden sliver slides out and before you can examine it, it falls to the floor, disappearing into the fabric of the rug. 
The king sighs, “better.” He brings his other hand over yours and covers your small ones with his, “many thanks, little maid.” 
He lets you go, his calloused skin brushing your sleeves, and he hums grimly. He bends his head forward and his white waves shift on his shoulders. He pushes his hair back and raises his head again. His eyes almost glow as he looks at you. 
“I should fetch some water for the queen in case she stirs--” 
“Later,” he dismisses, “might I ask another favour of such delicate hands?” 
You dip your chin down, “I serve you and the queen, your highness.” 
“Mm, yes, you recall, the knot in my shoulder, where I carry my sword,” he points along his shoulder, “if it isn’t trouble, I might have you loosen it before I must ride anon.” 
“Your highness,” you acquiesce, curling your fingers into your palms. You remember that first night you met him, as he sat in the steaming tub and had you touch him. You sweat at the memory. 
“It would be best before I soak,” he reaches to untie the laces of his tunic. 
You watch him, helpless. As with the queen, you can only heed his whims. At least he is gentler in his mastery. He pulls his tunic above his head and strips it away completely. He lets it hang over one leg and squares his shoulders as he sits back in the chair. 
You go around him and he moves his hair to his other shoulder. Your hands tremble slightly before you touch him. His muscles are thick and his skin taught across everyone. His arms are rounded with bulk and his neck is bullish in girth. He carries so much strength and power as if it is nothing. 
You squeeze the muscles gently with one hand, pressing the other behind it. You knead carefully, gradually putting more behind it, responding to the soft breaths and low grunts rising from the king. You hit a spot with some resistance and he growls. 
“There,” he grits as he drops his head forward. “Harder.” 
You push your thumb against the little pearl of tension you feel along his shoulder. He exhales deeply and lets out a wolfish snarl. He grips his thigh as you work his flesh. Your hands move without much thought. Lady Rezlyn often requested to have her feet done, a much less ideal task. 
“Mm, treasure...” he breathes though his words aren’t entirely clear. 
Another noise rises from him, sharper than before. You stop, frightened. 
“Your highness, have I hurt you?” You utter. 
Before you can retract your hand, he has a hold of you. He lifts his head and hangs it back, his hair spilling down. He looks up at you with his bright eyes as he clings to your hand. He presses it flat and moves it over his shoulder. He drags it down against his chest where you can feel his heartbeat. 
You’re caught in his gaze and his grasp. You just stand there, entranced by his golden irises. Each time you see them, they are more brilliant than the last. Your own chest tightens and binds up your breath. 
“You can never hurt me,” he rasps. You gulp as he lightens his hold and pets your hand. He closes his eyes and winces. “Little maid...” he sits forward and gently moves your hand away from his chest, “you must go now. You must face the road with us and you will require rest.” He lets you go completely and stands. “I trust my wife will have many a demand to keep you busy.” 
“Yes, your highness,” you murmur. 
“Now,” he insists. “You must go now.” 
He crosses the chamber and stops in the door to his bedchamber. You quickly flit over to the doors that lead out to the corridor. You pause and glance over as you sense him move. He stares at you, his eyes licking with flames. His chest rises and falls, trimmed in thick hair that trails down his hard stomach. 
“Go...” 
You obey and heave open the door. The soldiers on the other side snort. It is late, they must’ve dozed. You don’t think much of that as you harry down the corridor, not looking back. The king’s timber nips at your ears. The way he spoke; ‘go’. It was more than just a word; it was a warning. 
⚔️
You rise with the castle, quickly falling into the tumult of the impending departure. When you arrive at the king’s chambers that morning, you are sent away. You find Jazlene in her own. He must have taken her back before the sun. 
She is groggy and sombre as you help her dress. The pain in her skull leaks out in pathetic moans. You offer her lemons water and a cool cloth for her head. You see the difference as she accepts but she remains weak. It will be difficult for her to ride. 
Horses fill the courtyard and the luggage carts crowd around the stables and rear of the castle. The scene reminds you of Debray. You only hope Queen Jazlene does not cause a similar scene. You don’t believe she can. 
You accompany her to the front of the train. The king is not there. The queen clutches her throat as if she might be sick as the smell of the horses is stirred by their whipping tails. She grumbles and calls for a water skin. You find one and she shooes you away. 
“Enough of you,” she snips.  
You stay close, keeping watch should she signal for anything else. She can barely lift her head to do more than drink thirstily. Lords and ladies as good as ignore the queen as she mutters to her horse. 
“Eh, mouse, there y’are,” Bryce’s voice undercuts your pity. “I’ve been looking for ya.” 
You face him and the weight slips from your shoulders, “you have?” 
“What are you insinuating?” He challenges, “Daisy’s missing ya.” 
“Oh,” your brows raise, “well, it just so happens I miss her too.” 
“We’ll be off soon. You should come claim your place with the luggage.” 
“Should,” you agree. 
You follow him through the press of bodies. You get further down, away from the pages and soldiers, see Daisy lazily hoofing at the ground. She chews on a sparse bit of grass in the dust. As you near, you notice that her holster is thicker than it was. She is attached to a small cart. 
“What is this?” You ask as you stop short. 
“It’s yours, mouse,” Bryce says staunchly, “isn’t right you riding with the chests. Not for so far as we need to go.” 
“You... you did this for me?” You ask. "But... what about--” 
“Found a spare horse. He’s a bit less friendly than our beloved but he’ll do fine enough,” he explains, “’sides, Daisy needs a respite. She don’t needa be carrying around my hefty behind much longer.” 
“Oh, my,” you put your hand to your cheek and go to the cart, “Sir Bryce, you are a true knight.” 
“Don’t you get sappy with me,” he tuts as he follows. “Look inside, will ya?” 
You look inside the cart. There’s a long cushion and a pack. It’s a lot compared to what you came with; nothing. Bryce reaches in and tugs something from beneath the cushion. You watch the fur ripple out as he reveals the cloak. It’s thick and long and hooded. He holds it up. 
“When we get to the Hinterlands, you’ll be needing this,” he says. 
You touch the fur, it’s soft. You blink and feel it between your fingers. Your eyes sting. 
“Sir,” you bat your lashes, “it is too much for me.” 
“It isn’t very much, you are just too humble, mouse,” he folds and holds it out to you. “Now, don’t you be telling anyone this was my doin’. I got a reputation to uphold.” 
“Oh,” you clamp your lips shut as you try to hold back your emotion. 
A smile breaks through and you bare your teeth. Your cheeks hurt from the joy bursting forth. You hug the cloak and rock, looking around. As you do, you falter at a familiar face.  
The king leads a dark horse along the edge of the yard. He is looking at you, or so it seems. You let your expression slip and tamp down your glee. You bow your head in King Geralt’s direction. 
When you look up again, he is gone. 
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Otome Game ~ *Idia Shroud*
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Summary: It was Idia's idea to game with you. But when you ask him for help with your otome game, he can't help but notice some similarities between him and your favorite character...
Pairing: Idia Shroud X Fem!Reader
Genre: Fluffy Oneshot
Word Count: 1004
Warning: Otome gaming
Masterlist
Taglist: @savanaclaw1996 @goseew
It was Idia's idea to game with you, although he only asked because you mentioned that you had a new game that you haven't gotten around to playing yet. You were sure he had ulterior motives when he asked you to hang out, but you didn't bring it up with him as you didn't want to scare him off. Instead, you simply grabbed your game and met him at his dorm.
Ortho was more than excited to see you. You always held a special affection to Idia's little brother that didn't go unnoticed by both parties. On more than one occasion when you weren't around, Ortho would beg his brother to finally ask you out. But Idia was far too terrified to approach you with a romantic relationship. So he simply settled for a friendship that he would never ever, ever, EVER take advantage of.
Idia made sure to clean his room before you arrived and you were pleasantly surprised. Whenever you crashed the Board Game Club meetings, Azul would go on and on about how filthy his room was. Still, you didn't point it out to him. You didn't want to make him feel any more self-conscious than he already was.
After exchanging some casual pleasantries, the two of you fell into your gaming. It was calm and relaxing. You found yourself enjoying your time with the dorm leader of Ignihyde more than you anticipated. He was considerate about your own gaming experience and kept his reactions to his game quiet. Every so often you would look up and watch what he was doing, asking questions when you felt it was appropriate. He answered all of your questions with ease and even reciprocated by asking questions about your game. All and all, it was the perfect afternoon with one of your favorite people.
Then you hit a rough patch in your game. Your sigh of frustration alerted Idia, who knew exactly what it meant: you needed help. Now, Idia doesn't like to boast about his exceptional skills when it comes to video games, but surely he could appear like your knight in shining armor and lend you a hand?
"What's wrong?" He softly asks, his gaze still trained on the game he was playing.
"I'm stuck. I don't know which boyfriend to choose." You mumble, flicking through the different options in your otome game.
Idia thought it was a good thing you weren't paying attention to him as his hair flickered pink for a brief moment. He fumbled with his control to pause his game before finally addressing your issue.
"What, what do you mean?"
You showed him the screen of your game console. "So my new game is an otome game. I have seven boys to choose from. I just completed the intro and now I have to pick one, but I don't know who to choose."
He frowned and looked at your options. "Why don't you just pick one that you like and then do the other routes later."
"That's the problem. You can only choose once. If I want to complete the other routes, I have to buy another game. It's a major capitalism scheme, but I thought the game looked fun." You shrug. "Any idea who I should choose?"
"Uh... why don't you tell me about them and then I'll help you decide."
You nod with a smile that makes the tips of his hair turn pink again. "Okay in order here you have: Ryushi, the strict student body president who just needs someone to soften his edges, Ietsuna, the lazy slacker who only cares about you, Amane, the bad boy who likes to tease and torment, Kobo, the golden retriever who is the fan favorite, Michinori, the cultured exchange student who is a little fruity in my opinion, Masanobu, the secret prince of the school who would do anything for you, and Ichibei, the otaku with a heart of gold."
"Wow." He's surprised with how typical the choices are like every other otome game. He would normally say pick the one you're most interested in as they're pretty average, but considering you can only make one choice, you have to be careful. "I guess I'd have to say the choice is up to you."
You give him a pout. "You're really going to make me make such a tough decision all on my own? You're so mean, Idia!"
He panics at your words, not meaning to make you upset with him. "Well I mean it's your game! You should pick the boy you feel is the most special to you! I can't really help you make that decision."
"I suppose you're right..."
"Who do you feel is special?"
You shrug and glance back at your choices. "Well, I first thought about Masanobu because who wouldn't want to be a princess? But I felt he was trying too hard in the prologue to try and gain your favor. So I went through the options again and I'm stuck on two: Amane and Ichibei."
He tried to not let you know how surprised and flustered he was. "Oh?"
You nod. "I mean, I'm so like other girls when I say I love a bad boy, but Ichibei... he seemed so sweet and shy. I couldn't help but be drawn to him. I think he might be my favorite."
Your explanation was not helping the poor boy's rapidly beating heart. Based on your little description about him, Idia couldn't help but see similarities between him and Ichibei. Was this your subtle way of saying he was your favorite too? Was it too much to hope that that was true?
"I think you should go with your favorite."
You beamed at his words and his heart skipped several beats. "I think you're absolutely correct! Thank you Idia!"
"You're welcome." He mumbled and tried to return to his game. But he was distracted. Your words and your choice hit him harder than he anticipated. Perhaps Ortho was right. He should ask you out…
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arisenreborn · 2 days
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maybe it means nothing, but...
Word Count: 644 Characters: Reverie (Arisen), Rann (Pawn) AO3: (link)
smh at pawns walking all the time. Reverie is sick of it, too. important to mention though: no other pawns were neglected in the making of this fic, it's just the two of them traveling. ^^
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“You aren’t truly going to walk the entire way, are you?” Reverie asked, lips pursed in a pout. She sat on her knees on the oxcarts bench, elbows tucked against the railing beneath her chin to face him as he walked alongside. 
“I am quite all right, you needn’t worry for me, master.” Came Rann’s answer, head tucked in a subtle bow. “This way, I shall be better prepared to dispatch any threats that may come our way. You,” he moved his eyes towards her, “ought to rest.”
Her cheeks puffed up a little more, brow furrowing. She was good at fighting a pout, but this time she was sorely losing.
“There are guards hired for that exact purpose, besides it’s not as if I’ll sleep through all the shouting.” The last part she said in a lower voice, rolling her eyes with a sideward glance at the cart driver. 
“And more importantly,” her gaze swept back over to him, “You should also get some rest. Being well-rested would serve me better than exhausting yourself unnecessarily, don’t you think?” 
Sometimes the only way to win him over was with a bit of logic.
“Please?” And a bit of pouting. She batted her eyelashes. 
Rann took a moment to look sufficiently flabbergasted, never knowing quite what to make of the twisted-up knots in his stomach when she looked at him like that. But at last he shook his head and relented.
“Very well… If you insist.” 
"I do." She said with a nod, turning back around in her seat and looking quite pleased with herself.
He slowed his stride to move up along the back of the cart, climbing on and taking a spot beside her - and feeling awkward every step of the way. It felt as though the guards watched him every step of the way, and he felt a pang of self-conscious guilt as he sat. 
A feeling that was, however, quickly swept away by surprise as Reverie scooted closer to him. 
“Ahh, I knew it.” Smiling wide with eyes shut, she looked all-too-much like the cat that had caught the canary, while she leaned to rest her head against his shoulder. “You’re the perfect height.” 
Exhaling slowly, he took note of the feeling not unlike ‘relief’ that flowed through him; such ease and simple joy. There were times he noticed, very rarely, when she would say something to deflect from her embarrassment - times when her face glowed a warm red, as it did now. 
It’d have been easy to play along with her remark, or perhaps even to tease her, and feign offense at ‘being used’. But instead he leaned towards her slightly, raising a hand to brush a stray strand of hair back from her face.
“If you wanted me closer, you needed only to say so.” He told her quietly, a warmth thrumming in his breast. 
Her eyes shot open briefly with a look of shock at being so openly caught, but she quickly squeezed them shut again and pressed the side of her head into his shoulder more. The red in her cheeks had spread to the tips of her ears. 
“I’ll… keep that in mind…” She mumbled, and he simply hummed in approval. 
It was not too much longer before the embarrassed tension in her shoulders began to melt, and her breathing slowed to a sleepy rhythm he was familiar with. For a long while he watched her; the curl of her eyelashes, the subtle part of her lips - the strand of hair that rebelled time and time again. 
Then, for a while he watched the skies and the land move around them. He took note of the guards, finding their watchfulness of their surroundings to be satisfactory. And then, at last, he tilted his head to rest atop hers, and let himself drift to gentle slumber.
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The title comes from the song 'Recessional' by Vienna Teng and the lyrics go:
In the terminal she sleeps on my shoulder Hair falling forward, mouth all askew Fluorescent announcements beat their wings overhead: "Passengers missing, we're looking for you." And she dreams through the noise, her weight against me Face pressed into the corduroy grooves Maybe it means nothing, maybe it means nothing Maybe it means nothing, but I'm afraid to move
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padfootastic · 2 years
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I'd love to hear your thoughts on the fight between Remus and Harry in DH. Because throughout the series we see Remus manipulating Harry by bringing up James, but for the first time, Harry brings up James in a situation that is the most relevant, and Remus goes BERSERK.
hello 💜💜 i’m so sorry for how long this has been lying in my inbox but i’ve got so much to say and not enough time for it 💀
i don’t think anything i say re this will come as a surprise to anyone who knows me lol i feel like that fight was such a good opportunity to show, in narrative, remus at fault without excusing his actions and the text still missed the mark. i’ve talked before about this, but remus always gets off scot free with no consequences or even reproach for any of his shitty actions and i think this comes under the same banner. iirc even hermione’s like ‘wtf harry’ because of his response, right?
but here, we see him acting shitty in a manner u absolutely cannot ignore. i mean, there’s a point to which ur willing to ignore a grown man’s agency and actions, right? and i feel like ‘abandoning ur wife and unborn kid in the middle of a whole war’ is waaaaaay past that point. we can talk all day about how he thought he was in the right, how he might’ve actually brought misfortune to them by virtue of who he was, but that still doesn’t excuse what tonks would’ve been going through, esp considering her own dad pulled a similar stunt.
you bring up such a great point re james. remus had absolutely no problems invoking his name when he wanted to guilt trip harry (i keep saying this but their conversation in poa horrifies me every time i think about it) but the moment he gets it back? it’s all ‘oh woe is me how dare u’. kinda makes me think remus never had to deal w the consequences of his actions (which like,,,am i wrong tho) bc all the misfortune he has, he attributes to his condition and never his own actions. he basically operates on an external locus of control and the people around him keep enabling it. (ofc a lot of this is conjecture + influenced by what i’ve seen in fandom bc we (i?) don’t actually know that much about him & his motivations from the text) and i think when he actually is held accountable, he’ll go straight on the defensive bc he doesn’t know how to handle it.
imo remus is super, super self destructive and not that capable at maintaining healthy relationships. for all that people go on and on about james and sirius being assholes and bullies, remus is actually so much more insidious in terms of being ‘toxic’. i really think harry was so right for doing what he did, not matter how much shit he gets for it, because someone has to. his friends won’t, people in authority aren’t, and he gets to go through life blaming everything except himself.
i feel like this is super unsympathetic to him lol but that scene in dh is actually one of my favs just because someone is finally saying something to Saint Remus and the fact that it’s harry, of all people? u go bby!!! it was also such a thoughtless action on remus’ part bc he’s telling this to a literal orphan who grew up abused and neglected. also!! the way it portrays him on the complete end of the spectrum as james (who we know is the ‘embodiment of bravery’ in the text bc of his actions therefore, remus is an absolute coward which, self professed but now proved further) which really makes u understand harry’s pov too, i think. because he idolised his dad, ykno? and he’s heard remus talk about their bond before, and we know harry’s judged people by comparing (and associating) them to his parents right? so it just makes remus come off even worse.
ultimately, i think it was just another selfish + narrow minded action in a long list that we can attribute to remus. can we explain them? sure. but does that justify it? i personally don’t think so, but others can obv disagree. remus wasn’t thinking of tonks or baby teddy or harry when he offered to accompany them, no matter how much he tried to spin it that way and i think that lying (to both others & himself) is v characteristic of his personality throughout the whole series. he’s a serial manipulator and no one’s safe from it, not even him.
(i’m reading this and it’s so rambly gosh. i hope some of it made sense?)
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gimmeurtmi · 7 months
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kinktober day five — hyunjin
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pairing: hwang hyunjin x fem!reader
tags: friends to lovers (kinda), kinktober series, smut!!!🔞
warnings: swearing, nude drawings, fingering, masturbation, use of “pretty”, lmk if i forgot anything!
inspo: uni student hyunjin but make it art
kink: exhibitionism
{ wc: 2522 }
It was a strange thing to be offered, but it was also flattering to be seen as a suitable candidate. The art department had reached out to a number of students to act as models for their sketch class—and you were one of them. It probably helped that your best friend, Hyunjin, was taking that class and you were sure he was the one to mention your name first.
He had asked you a few times to model for him and the only time you said yes was when you found a thrilling show to watch while you modelled; it was easier to stay still with your mind so occupied.
So you said yes.
And only then did the teacher tell you there was a catch.
“Nude?” You all but screamed.
“I know you and Mr. Hwang are close so I can pair you two together—but if you’re more comfortable modelling for a female student that’s fine too. Either way, you won’t be able to participate until you sign the forms.”
You looked at the consent forms in your hand, mulling it over for a few moments still. Modelling for a girl would be more comfortable, but you didn’t know anyone that took Art and being naked in front of a stranger was far more nerve wracking to you.
You called Hyunjin right away. He assured you he’d make sure you’re comfortable and that you didn’t have to agree at all and that he would buy you lunch for a week. He needed a good score on this assignment and he, too, didn’t feel all that comfortable sketching a stranger under those circumstances.
So you signed the forms.
*
You decided to use your room for the assignment, for privacy reasons and to help you feel more at ease. Nothing could be too scary with your supportive plushies in the same room as you.
Hyunjin walked in with his iced Americano (a second one for you, too) and started setting up his station.
He put all his pens and pencils in order, three huge erasers, two sharpeners, and his giant sketchbook. It was so big you guessed the sketch would end up being life sized.
As he set everything up, you fiddled nervously with the string of your robe. It was just your bathrobe, nothing too special, but the whole situation made your heart race and there was sweat gathering on your forehead.
You weren’t so sure if you could do this after all.
“Hyune,” you start, “does it have to be completely nude?”
He looked up at you from where he was straightening his pencils, eyes boring into you. You swallowed.
“Those are the requirements,” he caught his bottom lip between his teeth before he adds, “do you wanna put on some underwear as a warm-up?”
“Do you need sketches of me in my underwear?” You purse your lips.
“Not really,” he says, bashfully, “but if it’ll be an easier start for you?”
You inhale deeply. Untie your bathrobe. Exhale.
You let the fabric fall off your shoulders, pooling at your feet, before you settle on your bed.
Hyunjin nods at you with a small smile, encouraging.
“You got this,” he tries, putting a fist up in the air in solidarity.
“Can I put on a podcast so I don’t get bored?” You say, conscious to not move your legs too far apart.
“Sure, it’ll probably take me a while,” he chuckles, “I need to do like five.”
“Oh, dear god,” you roll your eyes and Hyunjin laughs at you. The nerves you were feeling have all disappeared already—it actually isn’t too weird being naked in front of him.
He’s your closest friend, has seen you being sick after drinking too much, has seen all your embarrassing childhood photos, has seen you with bed head and delirious from no sleep. He’s seen it all—so it shouldn’t be too weird for him to see your tits, too.
Hyunjin directs your poses, the first one casual as you lay on your back. He’s only sketching your upper body, he says, from the neck to your bellybutton, so he lets you cover up your bottom half with a blanket so you aren’t too cold. The first pose is fun since you don’t have to do anything too strenuous.
Once he flips the page on his sketchbook to a new one he changes your pose. This time your profile is facing him, the leg closer to him bent to hide most of your body. You don’t get the privilege of warmth this time, and your butt starts hurting after ten minutes in this position. But you focus on the podcast that’s still playing in the background instead, trying to be a good model for Hyunjin.
For the third pose he gets up and moves the table to the very edge of your bed. You look at him questioningly as he does so, before you let out a small, “why?”
“It’s just that, well, I need a close up,” he whispered the last part, eyes focused on rearranging his pencils neatly.
“Of….?” You think you know the answer.
“Of you,” he says, pointedly, and so you understand.
You can’t help but think he was going too easy on you until now, that this was the real assignment and he didn’t want to scare you away. And perhaps it worked, because the thought of Hyunjin staring at your pussy with that amount of concentration doesn’t scare you as much as it would’ve twenty minutes ago.
It actually… excites you. You feel a tingle all around your stomach, and your heartbeat feels louder all of a sudden.
It was one thing to just be naked in front of Hyunjin, but having him look right at you, with his face frowned in concentration made your core flutter.
You nod timidly at Hyunjin’s questioning look before he smiles. He sits back down on his chair, grabbing his pencil, and getting to the task at hand.
You feel yourself getting wet at the amount of attention he’s giving your body—even if it’s just with his eyes—and you hope he doesn’t notice it. But you do, and with your legs spread the way he asked them to be, you can even smell your own arousal. You hope he isn’t close enough to notice it as well, but you have a feeling that hope is futile. He can definitely tell.
“I read a lot about this once we were given the assignment,” he starts, focusing solely on his sketchbook as he talks, “and sometimes models feel.. you know. So don’t be embarrassed.”
“I’m…” you wanted to defend yourself, because you weren’t even that embarrassed. Just surprisingly turned on. “Okay.”
“It would be more embarrassing for you if you were a guy, guys can’t hide it,” he says, as if to make you feel better.
“I don’t think I can hide anything from you right now,” you scoff at him. Hyunjin giggles in response.
He lets another five minutes or so go by before he takes a look at his drawing. You can’t be too sure because you’ve never seen yourself so close before but it looks like a good sketch. A really good one. You’re flattered at the attention to detail and it doesn’t make you feel shy anymore. You’re almost proud.
“When I was reading,” he coughs, “there was someone who said it’s nicer to sketch those body parts after.. a.. well,”
“You’ve just stared at my vagina for twenty minutes straight, Hyune, surely you can get some words out.”
He looks up at you, eyes round and glossy. His plush bottom lip is slightly red from where he’s been sucking on it as he draws.
“Female genitalia is a beautiful subject to draw after the model has experienced sexual gratification.”
You burst out laughing. “Who talks like that?”
“That’s a direct quote from the article!” He defends.
“So you want me to sexually gratify myself?”
He blushes deeply at that, shaking his hands quickly. “Not if that’s weird! Just if you wanted to. I have enough to probably pass I was just curious if she was right about it and—“
The words die on his tongue when you bring your hand between your legs. Your actions are fuelled by a strange bravery you aren’t familiar with, and the insane amount of arousel that’s coursing through you.
He quickly gets up, turning his eyes away from you.
“Wait, I can leave and you can call me back in when you’re d—“
“—don’t,” you say, running your fingers up and down your wetness, “maybe you can draw the process, too?”
His eyes go wide, so wide he almost looks like a cartoon, before he’s fumbling around to find the chair again. He sits down, quickly grabbing his pencils but they all fall onto the floor in his clumsy urge to get drawing right away.
He recovers them quickly, setting them aside but not at all bothering to arrange them in his neat order like before.
“Yeah, good idea,” he finally says, trying his best to look and draw and breathe at the same time.
He doesn’t have time to draw you teasing yourself before you slip two of your fingers inside you.
The sight is so pretty, so beautiful, and Hyunjin freezes for a moment. He blinks once then twice before he quickly starts putting pencil to paper and sketching out the sight before him.
He knows he won’t be able to do any of it justice but he has to try.
“Can you, move a little less?” He asks after a moment or two.
“I won’t reach sexual gratification if I don’t move,” you explain with a chuckle. If you’re honest, having Hyunjin watching you touch yourself might be enough to get you to cum without much movement at all—but you aren’t sure he should know about all that.
“Yeah, but it’s fucking beautiful and I want to get the details right,” he says.
You exhale lightly at that, trying not to react too much to what he just said. You aren’t sure if he can see you clench around your own fingers or not, but you nod in agreement.
“Pull them out a little bit, just so I can see better,” he directs, so simply, as if he isn’t talking about your fingers deep inside your cunt.
You follow his directions dutifully, as you’ve done all afternoon.
It’s just half of your fingers now, which isn’t much, but you can still feel the stretch. Still, with no friction available to you it makes you needy. So needy.
You want to move your fingers more, you want Hyunjin to watch you do more.
“Hyune,” you say, softly.
“Yeah?” He asks, still concentrating on his task.
“Wanna move now,”
“Just a few final details, okay?” He adds in a whisper, “you’re so beautiful,”
“Hyunjin, please,” you let out, because his compliment isn’t helping your patience at all.
“Would it help if you moved for a bit and then went back to the same pose?” He offers, eyes swimming in sympathy.
“It would, yes,” you nod quickly.
“Go on, then, just for a bit,” he smiles, supportive, before his gaze goes back to his sketch. He takes an eraser, fixing up a few details in an attempt to give you some privacy. But you don’t want that at all.
“Hyunie,” you whine out, and his head snaps up in a second. “It’s no fun if you look away.”
“I, I’m trying not to,” his eyes jump between your face and your exposed pussy, then back to the page. “You should have some privacy.”
“Don’t want it,” you say quickly, fingers moving slowly in and out as he gives you a bit more attention, “want you to see this.”
“I wanna see it too,” he says quietly, “it’s so beautiful.”
“Then look at me,” your fingers move quicker now, your palm resting against your clit and applying just the right amount of pressure, “watch me fuck myself.”
“Fuck,” Hyunjin all but moans, head falling backwards before he quickly zeros in on your cunt.
You let your eyes scan down to his crotch, see the bulge he’s so clearly been trying to hide.
“Come here,” you ask him, patting the space next to you, “want you to really see me.”
Hyunjin almost flips the table over and runs to you, but instead he just trips over one of the legs, letting all the pencils fall again, before he’s climbing onto the bed.
He settles right in front of you, his knee touching your ankle, and lets himself fully gape at the sight in front of him.
“I looked through a lot of portraits you know,” he starts softly, his voice lower than usual, “and I think your pussy is the prettiest one.”
“Maybe it has something to do with the artist,” you smirk at him, mostly to try and hide how much you like him complimenting you.
“Not my sketch,” he’s quick to correct you, “the one here.”
As he says it, he brings his big hand on top of yours, pushing against your hand until your fingers go as deep as they can.
You moan loudly at that, jaw hanging open.
“That’s what you wanted, deep,” he confirmed to himself, looking at your knuckles disappearing into you. “Looks so nice like this, too.”
He grabs your wrist, lifting and pushing your hand in an impossible pace. Your fingers are sore from it after only a few seconds, but Hyunjin’s beautiful face is looking right at you and so you don’t do anything but moan.
“So pretty like this, too,” he says, slightly strained.
You grip his bicep, needing something to ground you as the pleasure starts building and building. It’s much more solid than he lets on, his arms big and strong and his grip on your hand tightening as your whines grow higher and higher until— “I’m gonna…”
“Want me to see it? Should I watch as you cum all over your fingers, pretty?”
And that’s all it takes for it to hit you at full force, your eyes shutting tightly as the pleasure takes over.
Hyunjin giggles at you, small dimples appearing by his cheeks as he averts his gaze away from you. He’s so beautiful even with his head turned away, looking for something.
He quickly finds it and grabs the tissues by your bed to hand you one. You quickly clean off your fingers as you giggle.
“Should you get back to drawing now?” You ask, breathless.
“Yes,” he nods, getting up with a very obvious tent in his pants. He adjusts himself as discreetly as he can, but a sense of pride takes over you knowing you’ve made him hard in the first place.
He gathers the pencils off the floor.
“Next I think I wanna draw your face when you cum, it’s really fucking gorgeous,” he says offhanded as he sketched out the outline of your cunt.
“I’ll have to cum again, no?” You mumble.
“That can be arranged,” he doesn’t even look up.
Your breathe catches in your throat.
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dokyeomini · 1 year
Text
i think something is clicking in me and im realizing that i am actually just an ant in an anthill that is this city and im surrounded by considerablybless people who know me and that any random person i walk oast knows nooothing about me
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sweetiecutie · 8 months
Text
Pairing: König x fem! Reader
Warnings: NSFW, mdni, periods sex, blood play but not really(?), softie König
A/n: very self-indulgent. My periods are as tough as ever and there’s no one to comfort me, so I guess I’ll have to do it myself🥲
König didn’t really know much about periods. Well, of course he knew what menstruation is and that every woman has it once a month, but that was pretty much it. So when you started dating poor guy saw how things really were in female world.
He noticed how moody you would become a week prior your periods, how snappy you’d react to his harmless teasing. König noted your craving for sweets as well, and how angry and sad you’d be over a few pimples that appeared so unwelcomed on your precious face. And König felt truly sorry for you - it was clear as day that you were a hormonal mess, and there wasn’t anything he could do to help you, no matter how much he wanted to.
And then your periods finally came. König watched you get up suddenly from your spot on the couch, rushing straight to the bathroom. He was a bit confused - you were all snuggled up together, watching a movie you picked - did something happen? He knocked on the bathroom door softly, asking if everything was good - a few moments later you opened the door, sour expression on your face as you scrunch up the wrap from the pad. “Yeah, my periods started” you mumbled begrudgingly, your lips pulled in a small pout.
König who just couldn’t bear seeing his precious baby in pain, did everything in his power to comfort you. He wrapped his warm strong arms around your frail form, cuddling you into his chest. His fingers grazed gently the soft skin of your tummy where it ached, whispering sweet nothings into your ear, scattering small kisses wherever he could reach.
König did his research on how to ease menstrual pains. Painkillers, massage, yoga. But what particularly caught his attention - almost every article he’d read said that orgasm is a great way to get rid of cramps - not only healthy but pleasurable as well. So of course he suggested you just that.
König was so sad to see you this fearful and hesitant - “Baby, it’ll make a huge mess. Everything will be covered in blood and I don’t want you to get yourself dirty and-“ you rambled on, his eyes growing wide with every word you said. “Y/n, what are you even talking about?” He interrupted you softly, huge hands coming to cup your cheeks and he looks into your eyes deeply.
“Do you really think a bit of blood will stop me from fucking my amazing sexy girl? If you don’t want this - it’s okay, but please don’t think that I’m disgusted by you bleeding” he said it so earnestly, kissing both of your cheeks reassuringly. König hated the idea of you being self-conscious about absolutely natural processes in your body. So when you nodded shyly, slightly spreading your legs for him to settle in between them, König couldn’t contain a wide grin, even while kissing you passionately.
So with a thick towel under your hips, König got to work - lapping away at your poor pussy, smearing a mixture of your blood, slick and his own saliva all over his cheeks, gazing up at you drunkenly, moaning into your folds at the taste and smell of you. His fingers gently pumped in and out of your sopping cunt, marveling at the wetness blood provided, how easily three of his thick digits slipped into your sensitive cunny.
And only after making you cum on his mouth two times, König decided to fully indulge you, getting his heavy cock out of his boxers. With gentle move of his hips he sunk right into your velvety warmth, penetration as easy as ever due to blood lubrication. He went as gentle as ever, noting how overly sensitive you were - way more than usual. König made sure to not go too deep, to not disturb your poor uterus even more.
König was so sweet, rubbing your clit non-stop, wringing orgasm after orgasm out of your soft beautiful body. He scattered kisses all over your neck and chest, careful to not graze your sore from hormones nipples. And only when you couldn’t take no more - a trembling sweaty mess in his loving arms, babbling and whimpering deliriously, he allowed himself to finally cum on your twitching tummy.
König fucked you so good it took you several minutes to regain consciousness - with bleary eyes you looked up to him, your breath hitching slightly. Here was your boyfriend sitting next to you, grinning from ear to ear; lower half of his face was completely covered in dried blood, his hands and lower stomach glistening with dark red. That would definitely look terrifying if you didn’t know what exactly he was just doing.
“So how are your cramps?” He asked, his white teeth contrasting with brownish-red on his cheeks and lips. You closed your eyes in exhaustion, sinking deeper into soft pillows.
“Gone” you said, making König’s smile brighten impossibly more.
And yes, he’d definitely joke about being a vamp from this day on🙄
Likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! Give writers some love, we live off feedback<3
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remuslovebot · 4 months
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can you do a felix x reader where the reader is like a loner and has no friends/ gets bullied but felix notices her and befriends her. she has like a massive crush on him cause… duh. she thinks he’s doing a dare or something and gets really self conscious etc. but felix’s eases her worries. i’m a sucker for popular bf x loser gf 😫 whatever you think is best honestly cause your work is top tier 🫶🏼
thank you so much for this request and supporting my work!
I hope you enjoy this xx
pairing: felix catton x fem!reader
warnings: use of y/n, bullying, insecurity, oblivious reader and felix
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You walked into the dining hall alone, most of the seats taken. As you walked to an empty seat, girls rolled their eyes at you and boys laughed at you.
You’d never fit in anywhere. Before Oxford, you never went out with friends, because you were a loner. You were a scholarship student, only getting into the prestigious university because of your perfect grades.
You sat down next to a group of loud students, laughing and joking about what you assumed were the teachers. You looked over to the boy next to you, who took a drink of his water.
In a miracle of a moment, the boy looked over at you. He smiled kindly and you found yourself blushing.
“Hello,” he said, his brown eyes looking into yours.
“Hi?” You replied, not used to being spoken to in public settings.
“I’m Felix,” the boy introduced himself.
“I’m y/n,” you replied, still shocked someone as charming and charismatic as Felix was speaking to you.
☙☙☙☙
After that night at dinner, you and Felix became inseparable. He invited you to parties, hung out at the pub, listened to him play guitar in his dorm.
Felix dragged you everywhere and you weren’t complaining. You loved to have Felix as a friend. But you would be lying if you said you haven’t developed romantic feelings for the boy.
But you felt he could never love or be with a girl like you. You weren’t popular or rich. You were a scholarship student who didn’t fit in at parties unless you were with Felix.
The girls never liked to speak to you because they didn’t understand why Felix was so obsessed with you. It made them jealous.
Farleigh was kind but mainly snarky in the fact that you couldn’t pay for rounds of shots at the pub.
One day in class, you were sitting with one of your mutual “friends” — that knew Felix. She was asking you about Felix.
“I don’t know why he hangs around you so much,” she complained. “I mean honestly, I think it might be a dare with Farleigh, because i heard them whispering about something the other day.”
This made you self conscious and you believed the mean girl.
Felix had texted you after class that day, asking if you wanted to meet up at the library for a study session.
You replied no, because you decided not to make a fool of yourself any longer. Instead you hid in your dorm room and contemplated never seeing Felix and his friends again.
Meanwhile Felix was wondering why you didn’t want to hang out with him. It made him upset, as unbeknownst to you he had developed a crush on you.
He enjoyed hanging out with you, making you laugh and buying you anything you wanted. Felix felt like he could trust you.
While sitting in his dorm alone, he remembered a time when you saved his neck in class.
☙☙☙☙
“I mean to be honest, I was out late last night and never had the chance to finish the worksheet,” Felix frowned at you.
“Who has a party on a Wednesday night?” You teased in response.
Felix laughed, “It’s University,” he defended.
You playfully rolled your eyes and slid him your finished worksheet over to his side of the table. “Be quick about it,” you said in a whisper.
Felix looked at you like an angel, “You’re a life saver Y/n, thank you.”
☙☙☙☙
What had happened to make you so upset? Felix thought.
The next day you avoided the group as much as possible. Farleigh and the other girls didn’t seem to mind but Felix was in a bad mood.
“I just don’t know what I did to make her stay away?” Felix asked Farleigh in the library that afternoon.
“Maybe she just doesn’t want to be your friend,” Farleigh suggested nonchalantly.
Felix grunted in response, the subject clearly bothering him.
“Okay, why don’t you talk to her then?” Farleigh suggested. “I can tell you really like her,” he added.
At the end of the day, Farleigh still wanted Felix to be happy.
With this advice, Felix decided to confront you. He at least wanted to find out what he did. Or if you would still be his friend.
You were hanging out in the garden, reading your book for advanced English Literature. It was nice to get some fresh air and it was a hot sunny day.
You didn’t notice Felix making his way towards you until you heard his voice.
“Y/n,” he called. You looked up in surprise. Felix towered over you and you found yourself blushing.
“What is it Felix?” You sighed, placing your book on the stone bench.
“I want to know why you’re ignoring me,” Felix said, somewhat shy. It was odd to see him so shy. As Felix was usually confident.
“I’m not interested in your dare with your friends anymore. I don’t really want to be used anymore, I’m fine on my own,” you said.
Felix furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “What? What dare?” He asked.
“Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about Felix,” you said, standing up.
He was much taller than you and you looked up at him.
“I really don’t know what you’re talking about,” he insisted.
“Annabelle told me,” You said. “She heard you and Farleigh whispering and said your friendship with me was a dare.”
Felix frowned, how dare someone tell you that. He cared about you so much.
“A dare? There’s no dare. You’re my—I care about you,” felix reassured you.
“Why?” You asked. “What about me could you possibly care about?” You asked.
“Well you’re smart and beautiful. You make me smile. I’ll just think about you and my cheeks go red,” he found himself blushing.
You blushed as well, “but, Annabelle said?”
“I don’t give a fuck what Annabelle says or anyone for that matter,” Felix replied, taking a step closer to you.
Your lips were pink and looked soft. Your hair was pulled back and your beautiful eyes stared into his. Felix wanted to kiss you badly.
You pulled him into a hug and his arms wrapped around your waist. Felix’s head nudged into your neck and he smelled your perfume, it was intoxicating.
When you both pulled away Felix moved a hand to your cheek. At first it surprised you, but you leaned into his touch.
“Felix,” you whispered under your breath. You looked up at him and Felix swore if he died right now he would be a happy man.
“Y/n,” he replied.
But then you took matters into your own hands and planted a kiss on his lips. Felix kissed back. It was soft at first but grew rough and passionate.
You pulled at eachother, his hands around your waist and your hands up in his hair.
Having to pull away for air, Felix caressed your cheek softly. “I’ve been waiting to do that for a long time,” Felix smiled.
You smiled in return, feeling safe and secure in his arms. “I have too,” you replied.
“Come home with me, to meet my family at Saltburn,” Felix said. He’d never been so sure of anything in his life and with you his obsession and attraction only grew.
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200124 · 1 month
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DISCIPLINE CHALLENGE
This challenge is to help you address concerns you may face when trying persist your desired state. I call it a discipline challenge because it is to help you maintain the key ideas of the law in your head and to keep conscious of them in order to persist your desired state. By following this challenge you will learn to accept that 4d is the real reality, this will aid in accepting your desire as nothing but an undeniable fact, help you to not be in the state of waiting, impatience and lack.
DAY 1:
This day is focused on accepting the 4D/consciousness as the real reality. This is a huge step because once you have accepted this, it will be easier to get into your dominant state as you have understood that consciousness is the only reality and accepted this. So how will we do this? Through repetition and affirmations - not in a method way but to get this idea stuck into your head. I feel like majority of us keep forgetting this and it leads onto spiralling and what not.
Affirmations:
I know that the 4d is the only reality.
Consciousness is the only reality.
Why would I be worried if I have everything in my inner world?
I have all my desires in the 4D.
You will do these affirmations on a rampage for five minutes - I know it's giving Sammy Ingram but these ideas will be eventually impressed onto your subconscious - making it easier to occupy your state. And after the rampage do it throughout the day as well.
DAY 2:
This day is focused on addressing and overcoming problems that may assist in you falling out of your state. Most big one that majority of us suffer from is being in the state of waiting which does not make sense. Why would you be waiting, when according to the law once you accept you have your desire, that's it. It is done from then on. You have claimed it into your 4D. There is no waiting in the 4D. One thing some of us can suffer from is impatience. Why would you be impatient, when you have it all in your 4D?
This day will include a five to ten minute vaunt on why would you be waiting / be impatient. You can follow your own vaunt similar to this or add in more to this vaunt. Just take the following vaunt as an example!
Vaunt: I literally have everything in the 4d so it is pointless for me to wait. I love having everything in the 4d and the 3d does not matter to me at all. Being impatient is such a silly concept because I literally have everything in my inner world. I am satisfied with having all my desires in the 4D. I have came to acceptance that I have everything in my inner world and I could not be any happier. Waiting for my desire is such an insane thing to do because I have all my desires in the 4d.
DAY 3:
This day is focused on all those that keep looking for movement in the 3D. Sometimes people are really focused on movement, they say they have been in a state for so long and say they have never gotten their desire. It is obvious they are looking for movement and are aknowledging and dwelling on the state of not having their desire, which is silly! By doing Day 1 and 2, it should ease you into not looking for movement in the 3D.
Affirmations:
All my desires have materialised into the 3D because the 3D only reflects my 4D.
Looking to the 3D is crazy because I have all my desires in the 4D, which is the true reality.
I have accepted that I have all my desires in 4D and looking for movement in the 3D is pointless.
Combine these affirmations with day 1 and 2 on a rampage or as a vaunt for six minutes and it will help you to accept that the 4D is the real reality. Do it with some meditation music or your favourite music that will help you to immerse into this idea.
DAY 4:
Hopefully with day 1, 2 and 3, you have came to acceptance that the 4D is the real reality, impatience and waiting for your desire is a silly thing because you have everything in your imagination and looking for movement is pointless.
From this day onwards you can successfully occupy your desired state without being in the state of impatience, lack and waiting. If you find yourself doing these, then I suggest you do day 3 again where you go on a six minute rampage / vaunt with meditation music. Hopefully this challenge will allow you to fulfil yourself that you have your desire.
Disclaimer: I cannot tell you when your desire will manifest with this challenge, that is down to how well you enforce these ideas into your imagination and stick to it, but hopefully it has disciplined you to not be in the state of lack, state of impatience and the state of waiting. It will ease you into accepting that you have all your desires in the imagination and there is nothing more for you to do. It will hopefully allow you to make your desired state of consciousness into your dominant state -> reflecting it onto the 3D.
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vacayisland · 5 months
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LAST BUT NOT LEAST
Floyd x Motherly! Reader
Species and gender your choice- I’m just seeing reader is sweet, calm, mature. Calls everyone baby- always helpful. Maybe Floyd and reader are already dating? And reader calls Floyd the most embarrassing nicknames(sugarplum), number one fan-maybe some mortica vibes? Idk! You have fun with this one
@!; oh, Oh... Floyd / Motherly! Reader
"Summary"! Floyd loves you for many reasons, too many to count on his fingers or toes; too many to remember in one sitting when he's asked that simply question 'what do you love above them?'; too many to make a list of that won't expand pages and pages. Yet, he knows what he loves the most about you; you complete him in the best ways possible. "Tags"! say it with me... fluff, fluff, FLUFF!!, not proof read either :(
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@!; Floyd knew you before he got captured by Veneer and Velvet. He knew you from his travels around the world in an attempt to find himself after the group broke up. He actually found you in Lonesome Flats, despite not being a country troll (or maybe you were), leaning against the window inside a western building. You had been talking to Delta with such a bright smile, Floyd couldn't help but slow down his walk to stare at it; noticing to dimples on your cheeks, the way your eyes lit up as you spoke, and the passion in your voice. It was intoxicating. It drew him in. So hesitantly, he kept his distance but kept near your little building. He didn't mean to ease drop, yet he overheard your conversation: "So, anyone catch ya' eye yet, sweetheart?" Delta's country twang was more noticeable every time she decided to tease you about this subject. You knew she only wanted to see a reaction out of you. Though you couldn't help but smile at her, wafting off the scent of a plum pie you had just finished. "No, not yet, Ma'am." Your voice was soft, a subtle hum to it that Floyd had caught. It made him choke up a bit, though he tried not to focus on that feeling. "Aw, come on, pickin's ain't that slim." Delta chuckled as she crossed her arms, grinning back at you. "And I know many fine Trolls who wouldn't waste takin' you out for dinner... and maybe some wilder ones who would take ya to a rodeo show."
And she winked, causing you to shake your head as you maintained your smile and composure. Despite being teased, Floyd could only describe you as calm and relaxed. Your shoulders weren't stiffened and you didn't crinkle your nose at anything Delta said; it was like her words didn't effect you, yet you were listening intently and responding to her accordingly. "Oh, yes Ma'am. I know that." As you softly laughed at Delta's attempted, you tested the pie's temperature and deemed it cool enough to cut. You took your knife and began to slice the pie into 12 even pieces. "Then let me set ya' up with someone!- Thank you, darlin'." You handed Delta a slice of pie as she spoke, knowing plum was her favorite. Quickly, you searched for a fork and then handed that to her too. She continued, "A pretty gal such as yourself shouldn't have to be kept waitin', though you do deserve your perfect someone." Oh, so you were a baker? Floyd noted that to himself, noticing that the pie that Delta was munching on as you spoke seemed to have some personal touches. Such as some honey baked into the plums, the crust being a little more golden than pies in the Pop Troll village, as well as some sugar that had crystalized at the top. It looked delicious... and it made his stomach growl. Floyd didn't think his stomach actually growled, he didn't catch it. Thus he was both startled and confused when you turned your attention over to him, your soft eyes matching the soft nature you carried yourself. "Are ya' hungry?" Floyd covered his stomach with his arm, a bit self conscious as you called him out. But he didn't feel called out; in an odd way he felt seen. Delta soon turned her attention over to Floyd while taking a bite of the pie. She held up the plate with a grin, "Come on, don't be shy, bumpkin'! Our Miss (Y/N) is the best baker in town and you won't find talent like this; She's like a needle in a hay stack, she is." "Oh, um.. okay." Floyd walked over to the window, noticing how your grin grew slightly larger and your eyes seemed to catch this sparkle in them. You grabbed him a plate, a slice of pie, and a fork almost instantly and placed it on your window ceil for him. "Here ya' go!" Service with a smile. Yet Floyd patted his pockets, and even dug around in them, for something to give you in exchange for the generous slice of pie. He fell short, "Oh- um, I don't have anything-" "Oh don't worry about payment, sugarplum!" Your words caught Floyd off guard, his round eyes shot up to meet yours. "Baking is just a hobby, I don't ask for anything in return; well, other than friends with full bellies and big grins. Seeing people enjoying my baking is enough payment for me." Floyd had kind of believed in love at first sight; but he didn't realize it actually could happen.
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@!; Sometime after Floyd first meeting you and before he got captured, Floyd had confessed his feelings to you. Confessed that he had loved you since he saw you that first day when you gave him a plum pie. Confessed that he adored everything about you; he adored your laugh and your smile; he adored the way you worried about him, but not in an overpowering way, the way you always were there for him, the way that he could come back to you at the end of the day and you will be waiting with open arms. He adored the way you mothered him a little. Not in the way a mother would actually mother their children, yet in the way you were so caring and compassionate, while being sensible and calm made his heart beat out of his chest. You were perfect in every way, shape, and form. He loved you so much it hurt him more to imagine what you were going through when he had gotten captured by Velvet and Veneer. It was complete anguish to think about you sitting on the couch by the door in the little home you two made, waiting for him to only go on days without anything to report. It choked him up to think he could be the reason you were hurting at this moment. But he just hoped you could wait a little longer, hold out a little more, (you always had managed to, though it burns him to think to ask this of you) for him; and he will take everything just to be able to return back home to you again at the end of the day. One day. one day. Until that day, please.. please hold out. Please don't cry like he is.
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@!; The day that Floyd was rescued by his brothers, and Poppy and Viva, after the initial shock wore off his first and only thought was you. It filled his head and he couldn't ignored the thoughts that piled up because everything in his body was screaming for you. For your touch and comfort and he couldn't help but blurt out, "We need to go to Lonesome Flats. Now!" Which got a lot of weird looks from his brothers; mainly Clay, Spruce, and JD looking around wondering what and where 'Lonesome Flats' was while Branch was just plain confused, maybe even a little hurt. Floyd didn't mean to hurt Branch, or any of his brothers by this request, but he needed to make sure you knew he was okay. "The country troll region?" Poppy questioned as she walked over to Branch's side. She tilted her head to the side, "Why do you need to go there?" "Yeah! Why do you need to go there? We just got you back, Floyd." Branch seemed stand-offish by this request, crossing his arms and scrunching his nose a little. Floyd understood where Branch was coming from, he did almost just die in front of all his brothers, but surely they would understand? "Please, just trust me. I.. I need to get back there." Floyd pleaded with his brothers, "I'll explain everything there or on the way. We just- we need to go now! The sooner the better.." And despite everyone's confusion, and unsureness about this all, it was a family road trip to Lonesome Flats. Where, when they finally arrived, Floyd rushed out of the van towards your little bakery. He slowed a bit seeing the window shut and your door not propped open. His eyes widened when he read the sign attached: Closed. But it was your usual opening time, what.. where were you? "There ya' are!" Floyd wiped around hearing Delta's voice. He didn't catch her unfriendly tone at first, though registered it as soon as he caught her face. Still, that didn't stop him, "Delta! Where is (Y/N)?" "More important, where have you been? You've been gone longer than our grazin' cattle, and they returned a month ago!" Delta crossed her arms and let out a huff of annoyance. "You've got your poor-" Though Delta didn't make it far before Floyd saw an all too familiar person out of the corner of his eye. You always managed to steal his attention, and his brothers were even more confused upon seeing Floyd rush over to you; despite stumbling a little bit on his starting sprint due to the lack of energy he has. "Floyd!" Branch called after his brother, just wanting him to be careful. Yet he froze upon feeling Poppy's hand on his shoulder, hearing a small 'aww' escape her lips as she watched Floyd literally jump into your arms. You had noticed him as he ran towards you, and despite carrying a bucket of fresh milk, you dropped it quickly to catch him. Which, was a good idea, since you didn't expect him to cause you to stumble a little. Even so, you laughed as Floyd hid his face in your shoulder feeling your arms tightly hug him. Your hugs were always warm, best described as momma bear hugs. Floyd had missed them and you. He had missed your warmth and your laugh.
"Oh Sugarplum, what happened?" And he missed your gentle nature and calm tone, despite everything he probably put you through after he left. You were gentle as you placed your hands on his shoulders and backed him up a little, so you were looking at each other eye to eye. Floyd couldn't even get a word out before you noticed everything different about him, "Oh my dear.. you look tired! Skinner, and your hair-! Oh my lord, what in the Trollstice happened to your hair, Sugarplum?!" Floyd now had his back facing you, as you had spun him around. Oh, Floyd could just melt at this moment, feeling your hands run through his hair as you took in all the whites that now mingled with the hot pink. He knew you were more used to his darker roots, and not like these whites were natural but he thought they suited him a little more now. Though, just as Floyd was about to answer you, he caught sight of his brothers and the plus ones. And at that moment, wide wide, he knew he had a lot of explaining to do to his brothers...
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@!; It wasn't like Floyd was embarrassed of you, far from it, yet when you had him up and about dancing to Brozone.. it caused his cheeks to flush; from both embarrassment and lovingly. It had been a few months after he introduced you to the family, and he was glad his brothers had taken to you like he did and accepted you into the family. Branch was a little on the nose, but he came around.
Now, after a Brozone featured show, the both of you were dancing like crazy people to an old Brozone soundtrack in Poppy's pod. Poppy was trying to get Branch to dance with her while Clay was trying not to give into Viva's silliness.
Bruce was sitting on some chairs with JD, chatting and making fun of the younger brothers; as it was their bug brother duty to.
"Are you tired yet, sugarplum?" JD snickered as he called over to Floyd and you, his hand cupped to the side of his mouth to allow his voice to carry over the record player. Floyd grumbled a little at his brother's antics and tried to chuckle it off, maybe even shoot something back.
Yet he didn't even have to!- "What's wrong with me calling him Sugarplum, John?" Oh. Poppy paused in her pursuit and glanced over to JD with pressed lips and wide eyes, a silent question of what did he just do?
Clay and Branch both seemed to stop as well, Viva being soon to follow. Since meeting, you had never called anyone by their name. It had always been some cute nickname, such as baby or love or princess. Something motherly that made people's hearts warm upon hearing the nickname roll off your tongue with such affection and ease.
Even Floyd has barely ever heard you call anyone by their first name, that was unless they were in trouble. He decided to turn down the record player a little, just so you didn't have to talk over the music.
"Nothing!-" JD put up his hands at once, "It's just-"
"Just what? You wanna tease my darlin' for my decision in calling him sugarplum? Aren't you supposed to be the eldest brother?" You kept Floyd's hands in yours as you cocked an eyebrow up at JD, your eyes narrowing in his direction. Bruce had turned away, silently drinking his milkshake.
"No of course not-" JD started again, though didn't get far before you flashed a bright smile at him.
"Phew! For a second you have me worried there, dumplin'. Thought you were really striking that low!" And JD stared at you and your sudden switch of mood, wondering if he was seeing things or if he wasn't going insane. Either or, you gave Floyd a kiss on the forehead and turned your attention back to him.
"You still have the energy to dance with me, Sugarplum?"
And Floyd swore he fell deeper in love with you, if that was even possible at this point. "With you? Always."
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archieimagines · 1 year
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touching din | din djarin
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Summary: The three times that Din bends his own rules and engages in physical touch. 
his primary love languages are acts of service and physical touch. i will die on this hill. i started this one just to indulge in the thoughts of touching his lovely face. it’s been in the works for a while and although i know it’s far from perfect, i’m glad that it finally gets to see the light of day! warnings: bad language, potential incoherence? idk i’m very tired but i hope you like it tags: plenty of fluff, plenty of indulgent, sfw touching, and then a good handful of angst. rollercoaster central. this takes place over a period of time, so part of it comes after finding out grogu’s name, which is why he’s referred to as many things! word count: 4650 written by: archie support me on ko-fi!
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The travelling between planets would’ve been excruciating if not for your life partner and your adoptive child. The three of you made rather an unorthodox family. A runaway from Corellia, a Mandalorian and a… a sweet ball of green. An unorthodox family, indeed, but loving.
The Child chirped and bubbled away on your lap, apparently having a conversation with you while you sat in the pilot seat. You listened attentively, made agreeing noises at all the right moments, the lights of hyperspace travel filling the cabin with slow flashes. He really was so cute. You’d tell him it often, and you’d tell him that Din thought so too, even if he’d never say it. That much was obvious.
It was in the way he carried him, the way he protected him. The occasional pat to his head, or the quiet rub to his long ears as he slept. He wasn’t the type to openly say it, but it was clear, and that was what counted.
The Child reached out to the knob atop the gearstick, fingers wiggling.
“Baby, no. We have to always ask Din about the ship, hm?” You bounced him gently on your knee in an effort to ease the sad coos- but there was no need. A gloved hand reached around you, exposed fingertips closing on the ball. It was unscrewed and placed into the waiting green hands, content whirs and chatters soon filling the air.
The warmth in your chest grew into a smile as you dropped your head back, peering up at the helmeted man that stood just out of sight. “That’s a yes, then?”
A nod. “That’s a yes.”
“I didn’t hear you come up.”
He nudged his head to the Child, voice soft, “You were having an important conversation.”
And then he did what you loved.
He reached a slow hand out and stroked it over the top of your head, coming to a gentle hold at the nape of your neck, and leaned in. Your eyes fell closed as the cool beskar met between your brows, and you didn’t need to see him to know his eyes were closed too.
A beskar kiss.
You heard a soft sigh through his voice modulator. This was the way his people would show love. He made no move to break away, even from the awkward angle at which he leant. He savoured the moment, breathed with you, his thumb running back and forth over your skin. You weren’t sure if he could feel the goosebumps that his touch rose every time, his fingertips slipping into the lower roots of your hair.
He loved to touch you, you could tell. It wasn’t easy, and these moments were few and far between with his action-packed lifestyle, but the tenderness of these touches clearly meant so much to him. To you.
Without disturbing the occupied bundle on your lap, you reached for Din’s other hand. It hung by his side until you took it in your own, slowly raising it to place your kiss on the knuckles of his fingers. You kept it there a while, backs of his fingers to your lips, his helmet pressed to your forehead. The warmth of those digits filled a void left by the cold beskar. The warmth of human touch.
Long moments slipped by as you absorbed it until you became self-conscious. He hadn’t pulled away, but you weren’t even sure how he’d felt about it with his covered expression, so you let out a resigned sigh and lowered his hand.
But he surprised you.
His fingers opened up instead, laying delicately on the side of your jaw, his similar hold on the back of your neck still in place.
His thumb reached out to meet the corner of your lips, before tentatively, almost shyly, brushing over the centre of them.
He wanted more.
You were only too happy to oblige, lips raising into a delicate peak, placing a tender kiss to the pad of his thumb. Soon, he shifted, placing his index finger there instead. Then his middle. Each of his fingers tapped to your lips, and you made sure to place your affection on the tip of each one, giving in to the urge to smile.
He loved this.
You heard the tinned sound of a sigh before his fingers slipped away once again, soon followed by his reluctant leaning away.
He stood tall above where you sat, visor staying fixed on you. He was just looking. Just peaceful. You shone an easy smile, somehow both cosy and breathless from the moment.
His helmet turned towards the green being on your lap.
He blinked up at Din, and soon, a confused coo filled the cabin.
Din shrugged one shoulder. “You’ll get it when you’re older.” And with that, he settled back into the passenger seat, arms crossing over his chest. “Rest up,” he called, presumably to the pair of you. “We’ll touch down for fuel in six hours.”
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Din’s bunk was the epitome of comfort. Cramped, yes. Warm, yes. Especially with two bodies. It’d easily become stuffy in there with the panel sealed while the pair of you shared his thin mattress, and you’d always wondered how he managed to keep his helmet on even in that environment. Or perhaps… He couldn’t feel the stuffiness because of the beskar. Or maybe… He was just always stuffy in there, used to closed air.
Your eyes raised from where you’d had them closed, cheek pressed to the chest of his flight suit to mimic sleep. Early mornings after a long, well-deserved sleep often came like this, and there was something so soul-healing about laying there to absorb his calm, peaceful presence before getting up for what would likely be another day of action.
Watching his visor for long moments, working out if he was still sleeping or looking back at you- it had become somewhat of a hobby. Sometimes, you had convinced yourself, if you looked hard enough, you could see the slightest shape beneath the vision slot of his helmet.
You weren’t sure if they were really there. But, in the dim light of the bunk, you could swear the bridge of his nose casted a shadow that caused a darker shadow inside the mask. His lashes were dark and long, and they fluttered slowly as his eyes closed in steady blinks, looking back at you with such leisure.
But then… Had you made that up?
You squinted, straining your eyes until you were sure— yes, you’d made it up. He was still sleeping.
But it didn’t hurt to imagine he had long lashes and a strong nose, perhaps even a strong brow to match. It didn’t hurt to imagine you could see the faintest outlines of the man you love.
Sated, you turned your cheek back to his chest, eyes falling closed to mimic his slumber. Or at least—
“Morning.”
— What you thought was slumber. 
His voice was groggy in the modulator; that intimate morning voice. Deeper, softer than usual.
It brought a smile to your lips. “Morning, my love. You were awake?”
“I have been for a while.” His arm tightened snug around your body in his hold, half atop his. “I like to watch you wake up.”
A soft laugh. “Not creepy, hm?”
“Not even a little bit.”
Silence lapsed with his low tone. All was quiet. Not the whirring of the ship, not the sounds of the forest he’d landed the Crest in the clearing of. Only the delicate air of his breathing inside his mask, catching in the voice modulator so quietly that ordinarily, you wouldn’t be able to hear it.
The thought stirred a deep intimacy in your chest. No one else would get to hear this. No one else would get to lay with him like this, press against his armour-free body like this. You splayed a hand over the cloth of his chest, toes wiggling from an uncontainable contentment with how your leg rested over his. Not an ounce of beskar between the two of you.
But yet… 
Gentle fingertips trailed upwards, over his upper chest, swirling delicate patterns in the creases of his fabric. Your eyes remained closed, focusing everything on him, the warmth that met your touch when you worked past the collar of the flight suit, meeting the skin of his neck.
It wasn’t the first time you’d touched him so. Of course, after this long together, you’d been intimate many a time-- You were both human, after all... But the helmet had always stayed on.
Your fingertips splayed over his throat, and it vibrated with his low hum.
It was no secret by now. He loved to be touched.
You could just imagine him there beneath the visor, eyes closed, brow relaxed. His face caught in a long moment of calm where it was often riddled with worry, or effort from the fighting. Bringing him such serenity like this was the least you could do for him, showing him that he’s loved. So, so loved.
Slowly, your touch crept just a little further up, seeking his jaw. But as your knuckles knocked the edge of his helmet, a gentle hand closed around your wrist in warning. He didn’t need to speak.
Your voice was the softest murmur. “I won’t take it off. Can I just- Feel you?”
He didn’t move, not for a while. You raised your eyes, peering up at him from where you were nestled in his chest, as if you could possibly read his facial expressions.
His hold eased, thumb lazily rubbing over your veins before letting go, and you found a buzz of warmth in your chest. He trusted you with his most precious boundary. Silently, you vowed to always protect that trust.
Delicate fingers worked upwards, feeling for hair from his chin. But, a soft gasp- There was no beard. The gentle prickle of cropped hairs caught your fingerprints as they swiped along his jaw, and you marvelled at it.
“You shave?” The words came out with a soft, amused breath of disbelief, eyes rounded in surprise. For some reason, it’d always made sense that he’d be bearded, long-haired. He had no reason to shave, knowing that no one would ever see, but now that you knew, it clicked.
Of course he’d shave. Din was a particularly thorough person, he was always driving himself forward to do a perfect job of his work: of course he’d take care of himself too.
“If it grows too long, it’s uncomfortable. Catches in the modulator.”
“Ah,” you hummed, brushing along the ridge of his jaw in the confined space. There was something about feeling his jaw move as he spoke, verifying that he really was human, really did have goings-on behind the mask that shielded him from the world. There wasn’t much room in there to move freely, only your fingers able to reach his face, but it was comfortable. You could feel the soft sway of his breath on your touch. “What colour is it?”
“Black. Brown, black.”
You hummed, eyes fixed on his visor lazily, though you weren’t really looking at him. You were visualising as you studied the contours of his lower face, mapping him out as best as you could in your mind, nails brushing through the stubble on his cheek. They trailed towards the corner of his lips, where you noticed the strands got longer. A moustache?
The smile that lifted your face was automatic, beaming at the realisation. You followed the direction of it, above his upper lip, soon finding a little sparse patch on his philtrum. Your eyes drifted closed, imagining the way it might feel to kiss him now that you knew this; how his facial hair would scratch your upper lip, your chin. Perhaps it would be almost sore on your skin if you kissed him long enough, hot enough--
His lips raised to press a real kiss to the centre of your fingers. Slow, shy, even a little clumsy.
A rich gasp pulled from your throat. It was electric to feel his lips on your skin, pressing the affection directly onto you, after these long years of going without.
You let your fingertips lower, finally feeling the shape of his lips, that subtle cupid’s bow as it raised into yet another peck, slow and tender against your touch. Your brows drew together, fighting the emotion that welled up in you, trying to make you cry. You weren’t all too sure why-- this was just- so much. It was so much, to feel him like this, to receive his first kisses like this. Something you’d never even imagined you could have.
“Don’t cry,” he murmured against your fingertips, tone almost a caress. His own fingers raised to brush at the corner of your eye. One must’ve slipped out.
You didn’t even know he was looking at you. Your lashes fluttered open, gaze meeting where you imagined his eyes would be. “I can’t help it,” you whispered. “You’re perfect.”
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He’d lied to you. He’d massively, irrevocably, intentionally lied to you.
Your jaw ached from your grit teeth as you fought back angry fires in your heart, determined not to cry until you’d pulled your family safely off this forsaken, evil planet.
Din had been tasked with a mission of political undertones involving the spice market. He was masking as a bounty hunter to get information, so this time, the importance was in keeping the right people alive.
Of course, it didn’t work, and those people were now trying to kill you.
Your fingers trembled as you fought against the clock and the jolts of blasters firing at the ship to strap Grogu into his passenger seat. Your eyes were bleary, but you had to focus, secure him in safely. You wouldn’t take anyone’s safety for granted after this stupid stunt.
“Get her in the sky!” Din shouted up through the hatch, pushing his voice so loudly against the fighting and blasters below that it almost outgrew the modulator, his real voice peeking through. 
Grogu’s sweet eyes peered up at you, giving a questioning gurgle. The poor thing had no idea what was going on, was probably terrified by it all, and even your demeanour on top of it, but you didn’t have time to explain.
“We need to go!”
You buckled the baby in tightly and fought your emotions to ruffle a quick hand atop his head, hoping to soothe him even a small degree before falling into the pilot’s seat, specifically buckling yourself in, and jamming the engine on with jerky movements. 
The Crest resisted you, far too old and rickety by now to be good for quick getaways with a cold engine, but with some slow drags, turbulence from knocking through trees and extra laser blasts from below, she was finally in the air.
You heard the distinctive sound of fighting downstairs, someone being kicked off the ramp at an easy 400 feet altitude, and then the mechanical sound of the ship being closed off again. 
The ladder creaked with Din’s climbing, and you didn’t look back to him as he collapsed into the other passenger seat, not ready to talk to him yet. You were still seething, and wouldn’t engage with him until you’d pulled up safely out of the planet’s atmosphere.
Long moments of quiet dragged by. He knew you by now. He didn’t need to see more than the square set of your shoulders to know that he shouldn’t speak yet unless he wanted to upset you more. That, and you still didn’t look at him even as the minutes neared a full hour, focused on getting to the nearest hyperspace route.
He glanced to Grogu, who sat there blinking, clueless as he could be. He must’ve known something was going on, even if he didn’t know what exactly Din had done.
Din reached a gloved hand out, petting lightly on the green boy’s head. He still didn’t speak.
Eventually, your frustrated fires ebbed into a more containable state, you shifted the Crest into light speed, and unbuckled your belt with a heaved sigh. “Downstairs, Din.”
You stood, instructed Grogu not to touch a thing, headed down the hatch, and pointedly avoided looking at Din the whole time.
The body of the ship was chaos. Lazed burns in everything the three of you owned, strewn across the floor and torn from the struggle. Clearly, he’d really had to put up a fight. 
It was his own fault.
Boot on metal as he stepped onto the floor beside you. You finally looked at him.
You didn’t need to see his face to know he was exhausted. It was in the way he held himself, the way his arms just hung there by his sides, strong shoulders visibly slouched to the trained eye.
You reeled on him. “Why didn’t you let me in on it?”
Silence.
“Less of that, Din. Speak to me, I need to understand.”
There was a pause before his voice came. Firm, but gentle, as if pointedly trying to keep the peace. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“Then make me understand.” You pulled an upturned crate closer and planted yourself on it, trying to keep the buzz in your veins under control, but your tone was clipped nonetheless as you gestured to a crate nearby. “Go ahead, let’s hear it.”
He sighed and tugged the crate over, perched on the corner of it opposite you. His knees were parted and elbows on his thighs, hands clasped together as he thought through his facts. The best way to make you see that he’d done the right thing.
“I couldn’t tell you my true location because if you knew, your presence would have soiled the plan.”
“So you’re telling me I’m a hindrance.”
“No.”
“That’s certainly what it sounds like-”
“It needed full discretion to work. I’d told them-”
“I can keep fucking secrets, Din.”
“I know you can.”
“So you lied? Told me you were on the other side of town? How was I supposed to get to you if something went wrong?”
He sighed, his head dropping forwards in exasperation. “I told you to stay on the ship.”
“That’s not always possible. You know it’s not! Hunters still have fobs fixed onto Grogu, Din, there’s no escaping that!”
“I couldn’t have you interrupting or we’d all be dead. I’d told them I was alone- no, look at me.”
Your jaw was aching from how you grit your teeth as you forced yourself to look up at that visor, the weight of frustrated tears brimming at your waterline. You gave a small nod.
“Listen,” he started. “I’d told them I came alone. If you’d known my location, you would have interrupted.”
“To save your skin? Yeah, I would.”
“Exactly. We’d both be dead, and the hunters would take the kid.”
“You think I can take care of him without you? We don’t stand a chance without you around, Din.”
He paused. Quiet lapsed, and you had no idea what he was thinking. Sometimes, he really gave nothing away, and it was infuriating. He didn’t let you in. He would rarely open up to you about what was going on inside that beskar that hid everything from you. Everything.
Sometimes, you were sure you didn’t even know the man you were committed to. He held so much of the power in this setup. He knew everything about you, everything was done by his thinking, and yet he didn’t need to disclose much at all. He’d keep you in the dark about everything.
What he was feeling, what he was thinking… Hell, even when he smiled at you he kept it to himself. You’d grown to handle those, but this, actively lying to you. As if you couldn’t follow instructions. As if you couldn’t be trusted.
You sighed as the drops in your eyes welled up enough to fall over your cheeks. You pulled yourself off the crate and approached the ladder to the cabin, calling over your shoulder. “Go clean up or something,” you sniffled, “I need a minute away from you.”
The clang of footsteps behind you, a gentle hand on your shoulder.
“Hey. Look at me.”
“I can’t, Din.”
“Why not?”
Such a simple question, such an impossible answer. You closed your eyes, struggling to pick out words that might illustrate what’s going on inside. The ache that sank your chest, that made your throat feel heavy with uncried frustrations. None of this was okay. Perhaps after you’d cooled down, you’d be able to see that mask as anything other than a barrier between you, that keeps him safe from your eyes. But for now, you couldn’t bare it. You scrambled to express it, but all you could let out was a strained “It hurts.”
Another moment of silence. Then, carefully, “What hurts?”
Clearly, he didn’t mean for his words to bring on the tidal wave of emotions and thoughts that you’d been keeping at bay.
“This, Din. All of this! Living in a ship, wondering if I’m gonna make it back in every time I step out of it, and not even being in on missions that risk your life! It’s like you’re cut off from me. Like we just live in the same space and I’m just there to entertain you. But it’s- it’s-!” You heaved a sigh, head buzzing with the force of the thoughts that were spilling out. They were so honest and raw from brewing for far too long. They must’ve been sharp as they came out, they must’ve hit him like a ton of bricks.
But of course, that damned beskar hid everything.
“It’s hard to be with a man who doesn’t trust me.”
For once, his voice rose. “I trust you more than anyone in the gal-!”
“You almost died because you didn’t trust me enough to let me in! You’d rather die than trust me!”
“That’s not how I-”
“That’s what your actions are telling me, Din. They always do. You never tell me what you’re thinking. I have to guess, but I can’t even read your fucking face. I live my life in question marks because you don’t even give me the option to-”
“You know I can’t show you my face.”
A deep breath left you, shaky and tired. So much pressure had alleviated in your head, like you’d finally emptied the contents of your mind onto a platter before him. And now that you could see it too, heard what you’d said, you felt almost ashamed for it.
Criticising the beskar was too far. That was his way of life, and had nothing to do with how he felt towards you. For sure, it was frustrating sometimes for you didn’t even know what your life partner looked like, but his culture was part of him. And you loved him.
“I know. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-- What are you doing?”
He reached by you to snatch some fabric from a nook, and he folded it into a long strip without so much as a word.
“I’m- I’m trying to apologise-”
“You don’t have to. How can you trust a man you can’t see, right? We’ve been together so long, and you still don’t know who I am.”
You were stunned beneath the guilt that crashed over you. He took your words in so deeply, and fed them back to you plainly. You could see how you must’ve hurt him, with sentiments like this.
Your eyes welled with tears again. Whatever had come over you had clearly wanted to hurt him, but that wasn’t you. Your thoughts were too chaotic to pinpoint, swarmed with hurt and pain that was only now built on by the fact that you’d treated him so terribly. You’d sworn to him long ago that you accepted his Mandalorian binds, loved them even, but you’d let them get in the way with one incident.
“Don’t cry,” he spoke, modulated voice gentle. “I’m- I’m understanding you.” A calloused thumb brushed along your outer lashes to pause any tears that wanted to fall. “Let me help.”
And there was darkness.
He tied his makeshift blindfold behind your head in a loose knot, keeping your eyes in darkness. “Din? What is this?”
He kept quiet, and you heard shifting, something being placed aside.
“Why do you never-”
You cut yourself off when his hands took your wrists and lifted them gently, until your palms splayed on his stubbled cheeks. He gave a long sigh, and you imagined he’d closed his eyes.
Your heart jolted. He was here before you, bare, no helmet. When he spoke, his voice rang out clear and pure, the true timbre of his voice without modulation.
“I said, I trust you more than anyone in the galaxy.” His face moved with his words beneath your touch. “I’d move planets for you.”
He left you breathless. You dove at the chance, fingers tracing over his cheekbones, the bridge of his nose. It stood high and strong, just like you’d always imagined.
“This… This isn’t risky? I didn’t mean to offen-”
“You didn’t offend me. I know it’s hard, I feel it too.” He guided your hands to his lips, and he placed gentle kisses to your fingers.
The lump in your throat welled up again, your nose stinging from the tears that you tried to hold back. The thought of him struggling with his culture simply because he wanted to be close to you. “You do?”
“You know how many times I wanted to take it off? This seems… This is the best way. I’m not breaking any rules.”
You gave a watery, sniffly laugh. “This is the way?”
A hum of humour. “This is the way.”
You let your touch wander over his face, mapping it as well as you could. The curve of his eyelids, the strength of his browbone. He breathed softly, and you could feel the air on your palms as it pushed through.
You wove your fingertips into his hairline, pushing his locks back and bunching them up in your grasp behind his head. It was surprisingly long with unruly waves, and so, so soft.
He leaned in with a sigh until his forehead met yours, hands falling to their home on your waist.
And before you knew it, his lips were on yours. His warm, sweet lips fit perfectly against yours, and your head spun. It was so much, feeling him so close after nearly losing him, arguing with him, and your first kiss in the long years of being his. The first actual kiss.
He was unsure and clumsy in his affection, a little hesitant.
Clearly, this was his first one ever.
You let a hand trail to his jaw, guiding with a gentle touch. He soon settled in, became more confident in his kiss, even if it was still clumsy.
And it was perfect. The determined nibbles to your lips, the soft scratch of his moustache on your upper lip, the way he tugged you closer even as you were pressed against the ladder.
When it finally slowed to a stop, he murmured softly, so much closer than he’d ever been. The sound reached deep inside your mind to soothe your soul and make you crave more of his kiss. “I won’t ever treat you like that again. I’ll give you full disclosure of my missions, every single one. Alright?”
“Alright,” you agreed, breathless and flustered, “On one condition.”
“Hm?” He was clearly lost in this touch, so starved for so long, and it showed in his voice. He was utterly entranced with this new feeling, someone else’s fingers on his skin, words the last thing on his mind.
“We do this more often.”
A low laugh rumbled in his chest, nose nudging on the tip of yours. “Deal.”
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lyneira · 1 year
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♤ "Not worthy?" I'll show you differently ♤
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SMUT - MINORS DNI
-> how would he react to a reader who's self-conscious and ends up distancing themselves from him when others insult them and say that they shouldn't be together? (based on this request!)
All characters are depicted as 18+
fem!reader x twisted wonderland characters / cw: penetration, cunnilingus, fingering, blowjob, mirror sex
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"I'll make you feel loved enough that you won't forget it"
Epel, LEONA, Jack, Ace, Silver, Floyd
I don't see them viewing it as a big problem initially because he's confident that he'll be able to make things right quickly. You just need some reassurance, that's all.
He's not going to confront you directly. He won't need to; His actions toward you would be enough to say that what others were saying was indefinitely wrong.
He'll become more handsy and more forward with his PDA, always making sure that he's holding you or touching you in some way. He'll put his hand on your waist and pull you in close, seldom ever releasing his grasp on you; He'll kiss you more often, ensuring to elongate the kiss for a long time even when there were a lot of people around. When he'd pull away, allowing you to take a breath, he'd shoot a glare at anyone who was staring, daring them to say something.
He'll do all of this as to indirectly tell you, "Hey, I don't care what anyone says or thinks. I'm not letting you go". Yet, if you were still acting distant, then he'd have no choice but to confront you directly.
When he finally does, he'll back you into a corner and ask with frustration, "How come you're still distancing yourself from me? Am I not showing you enough affection?" He'll then lower his tone, "You don't need to run away from me...I love you, y/n...and there's nothing that anyone can say that will ever change that...", looking at you with that rare softness in his eyes that he only showed when he was pouring his heart out. And that's how you know he really meant it.
That look would further soften when you suddenly hug him tightly, and after melting in each other’s arms, he'll whisper into your ear, "I'll make sure you understand how much I love you tonight. Remember this moment whenever you find yourself doubting it"
And when you two make love that night, he'll seem a bit rough initially. He'll be pinning arms above your head, grasped tightly, kissing you ferociously that your teeth often clash, sucking on your skin so intensely, leaving marks of purple, and thrusting himself into you with so much force that you feel like the bed is going to break (which, it almost does, heh)
But after his first climax, releasing his remaining frustrations, he'll slow it down, also releasing his tight grip on your wrists to embrace you protectively, kissing up and down your neck as he thrusts long, slow strokes into you. He'd be all over you. His hands, his lips, and his tongue would again caress every spot on your body, especially on the spots he left a hickey on. He'd kiss them softly, and would cheekily smile into your skin, knowing that these marks would be visible for all to see the next day. After all, they need to know that you belong to him, just as his heart belongs to you.
"Can you SEE how much I love you?"
VIL, Jade, Rook, Jamil, Lilia, Rollo, Azul
You're self conscious? On his watch? Absolutely not.
Seems like you need to SEE how much he loves you in order to really believe it. So after quickly dealing with those who had planted their foolish ideas into your mind, he'll immediately take you to his room to help you confront your problem head on.
He'll be sitting at the edge of his bed, as he speaks to you, "Dear, I've noticed that you've been shying away from me because you've become self-conscious...you need not be. Do not listen to what others say, they don't matter. I adore you just as you are."
When he sees you finally ease up by his words, he'll smile tenderly at you and will then pat his thigh, "Come here..."
You do as you are told, and when you get close to him, he'll suddenly pull you onto his lap, wrapping his arms firmly around your waist, trapping you in his embrace. Funny thing is, up until now, you hadn't realized the grand mirror that was in front of you two. Had he always had that there? In fact, he did not. But today, he needed it for his plan to help you become less conscious. Oh, you're in for it now 😏
"I'm glad you've noticed the mirror. Keep your eyes on it...no matter what I do", he'll mention as he narrows his look into your eyes in its reflection, and you can definitely tell he was plotting something. You were about to ask about it until he surprises you with a multitude of kisses up and down your neck and down your shoulders. If you asked if you could face him, he'd immediately turn you down, telling you to look into the mirror.
And as he became more sensual, letting his hands roam up your body to cup your breasts and fondle them as he continued to kiss your jaw and insisted you to keep your eyes glued to the mirror, you eventually realized his plan: he was going to make you watch yourself as he made love to you.
You figured that it would be easy to endure, but soon enough, you'd think otherwise as he'd further surprise you with his touches.
He'd bring his hands down to your waistband and begin pulling your pants off so that your lower half was now bare. Then, bringing his hands back up to your thighs, he'd begin to spread your legs open slowly, while looking in the mirror to enjoy the view of your pussy all soaking wet for him. "Ah~ You're so wet", he'll grin, eyes half-lidded at the sight. He'll hover a hand over your heat and begins to rub his middle finger up and down your slick, earning a shudder from you. After rubbing it enough, he'll insert it into your hole, massaging your insides and finding that sensitive spot that has you squeezing onto his finger.
You look away from the mirror and shut your eyes at the pleasure he's giving you, but he'll click his tongue, and stops his motions at your reaction, "That won't do, dear. Don't look away". With his other hand, he'll grab your chin and make you face the mirror once more, "Open your eyes. You need to watch as I pleasure you" and with the lack of friction making you antsy, you open your eyes to watch the erotic sight of him touching you. "Good girl", he'll hum. And for that, he'll reward you by using his other hand to rub circles on your clit.
He'll continue to pleasure you while making you watch him, becoming pleased with himself as he was getting you to stare at the sight with less hesitation each time.
When at last he has himself inserted in you, thrusting up into you relentlessly as you both watch yourselves in the mirror, mouths agape as you both moan and pant, faces flushed, eyes heavy with lust, bodies wet from sweat and arousal, he'll lean in towards you ear, sultry whispering,
"Get used to this image, my love...become so accustomed to it that it won't matter what anyone says. You'll remember that you and I are meant to be together...joined as one both body and soul, just like this"
"Do you know what you do to me?"
MALLEUS, Sebek, Deuce, Riddle, Idia
He'd full of worry when you distance yourself from him, wondering if he had done or said something to cause it. Though, hen he finds out that the reason for it was your self-consciousness and the gossip of others that had influenced it, he is fuming. Who dares to insult his darling?! To make you feel this way? He'd be so tempted to make them endure his wrath, but he'd ultimately decide to deal with it later. The most important thing right now was you. It pained him to see you look at yourself that way when he thought the entire world of you. (He practically kisses the ground you walk on, lol)
So he would waste zero time to confront you because there's no way he was going to let you think that he didn't love and care for you.
Do you know exactly the effect you have on him? He'll let you know. He'll tell you how warm you make him feel inside, how you ease him while still managing to give him butterflies in his stomach everytime you laugh or smile at him, how grateful he is to have you in his life. He'll then take your hand, bring it up to his face, and lean his cheek into your palm, telling you how he easily melts into your touch and submits himself to you.
He'll guide your hand down his body, allowing you to feel the heat of his skin, down to his chest, where you can feel the pounding of his heart.
"Feel the rhythm of my heart...it only beats like that for you. You mean everything to me, y/n. Never forget that", and he would press a kiss onto your lips, desperation imbued into them. That desperation would soon turn into passion when you gladly returned his fervor, letting him know that you understood him and relief washed over him.
As you two fiercely kissed, devouring each other's mouths, letting your tongues dance, he realized that he was still holding your hand. So, he'd take the chance to continue guiding your hand further down his body to show you another effect you had on him. You'd gasp when your hand met with his clothed erection, breaking the kiss to look down at it and back up at him. He'll have a faint blush on his cheeks, but will look at you with a firmness in his eyes, "Only you make me feel this way." He'll release his grasp on you, yet, you'll maintain your grasp on him, ready to show him the love and affection that he showed you.
And indeed, you'll feel how enamored and obsessed you make him when you pull down his pants to free his throbbing cock, to lick it, suck on it, bounce on it, ride it, and squeeze it so good that the evidence of his love will be buried deep inside of you and will continue to overflow.
Extra:
He'll also show you what you do to him even when he wasn't with you at the moment. Even if you were away for a while, he'd send you a video touching himself to you. In the video, you'll see his beautiful face twisted in need as you listen to him panting, gasping, and moaning out your name numerous times, accompanied with the wet sounds of his sex being attended to. This would go on for several minutes for you to enjoy, and in the after his release, he'll look hazily to the camera, cheeks flushed, semen stained on his hand, abdomen, and thighs, lips parted as he breathlessly heaves out, "This is what you do to me"
If you were there, he wouldn't have made such a mess everywhere 'cause he would have made his mess inside of you instead, just sayin' ;)
(Cater isn't a part of this category, but I can totally see him doing this too!)
"I love your..."
NEIGE, Cater, KALIM, Che'nya, Trey, Ruggie
You distancing yourself from him would immediately have alarms going off in his head because this would be highly unusual. You two were always joined at the hip (sometimes literally) after all. When he realizes that you're self-conscious, he'll immediately reassure you.
"You know what I love so much about you? I'll tell you!" He'll grab your hand and bring it up to his lips, "I love your touch", and will kiss your palm. He'll then lean towards your face so that his lips were ghosting your forehead, "I love your beautiful mind", and kisses it. He'll then kiss the corner of your lips, "Your pretty smile", which would earn him that beloved expression from you, to his delight. He'll kiss down your neck, "Your voice and the things you say to me", and as he tries to kiss your collarbone, he will pull off your top to expose more of the skin he can kiss. He'll continue down towards your chest, kissing your warm bosom, "Your kind heart and affection". And he'll go on to kissing all over your body as he says what he adores and loves about you, removing any more clothing that might hinder his lips from meeting your skin.
With all his kisses, you were nearly laid entirely bare. All of your clothing were off except for your panties. As he lowers himself down to hover his lips on your clothed sex, he'll look up at you, blush dusted on his cheeks and a sensual look in his eye, "Would you allow me to continue saying what else I love about you?". And with your nod of permission, he'll slip the garment off, and whisper, "I love the way you taste" before giving a deep kiss to your lips. He'll go on to kiss it repeatedly and as you moan and sigh from his kisses below, he'll shakily breathe out, "I love the sounds you make when I'm making you feel good...a-ah..! You make me feel so good" as he mindlessly grinds into the mattress, pre-cum staining the bed, aroused by you.
You'd think he'd be done after letting you know the numerous things he loved about you, but he still had one more he had to say. So after letting you release your nectar onto his lips and drinking it, he's gonna line himself up to your dripping entrance, and will say, "I love being inside you", before inserting himself into your heat. He'll continue to mutter on with each thrust, "oh, you're so warm...you take me in so well...I love it...I love you....so very much"
And with all of the places he's kissed and all of his words of adoration, I'm sure you'll understand the magnitude of his love for you by the end of the night
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a/n: this one was much longer than usual! Some seem a bit ooc and I honestly kinda gave up at the ends of most afshdkwgjak oh well 🫤
© 2023 lyneira. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, PLAGIARIZE, OR REPOST MY WRITING ONTO OTHER PLATFORMS
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byuntrash101 · 6 months
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realistic sex with yunho
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yunho x f!reader fluff | smut | mdni a/n: our big puppy boy yunho is the next entry to this series where i try to imagine how each member would actually fuck, as ✨realistically✨ as possible. disclaimer: i say realistic but lets be honest this is pure delulu behaviour and total fiction. everything is solely based on the vibes the boys give off.
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yunho is the kind of man that knows exactly what he wants. so when he got to know you he knew instantly he wanted you. maybe he didn’t know right away he wanted to pursue a romantic relationship with you but he definitely knew he wanted to explore this as a possibility
yunho goes to people he’s compatible with, therefore there's no awkward first stage. he pursues you but is never annoying or pressing but he's not a smooth talker either (he can be though) he just puts you at ease. he makes sure you feel comfortable around him and lightens the mood often with funny comments and little jokes or even silly faces.
basically makes you laugh all the time.
the goofball™
that's how you fell for him without even noticing. because you were just laughing all the way through enjoying spending time with your friend until he was way more than this.
getting together with him was so natural that at some point the lines got a little blurry and when you finally asked what you guys were he looked at you with big round puppy eyes
"what kind of question is that you're? you're my girlfriend, silly" was his response. to him it was so obvious that he didn't even need to label your relationship. to his defense he's been sure about you since that first day he made you laugh for real. not the polite controlled laugh but snorting laugh you could be self conscious about. but to him it's the single most endearing thing about you.
he loves that side of you and that he's known for quite a while. the man doesn't hesitate and doesn't beat around the bush
(aries much? yes very)
overall yunho is very gentle maybe because of his height but he's very much conscious of his body and strength and he's not the kind to accidentally hurt you when you play fight
and that's how you know than when he does hurt you. he means it. (more on that later hehe)
many people assume that since yunho is like tall tall that's he has a size kink. I am a firm believer that he actually doesn't. he knows he's tall, he doesn't need the size kink ego boost. but you know who has a size kink? san! 
ofc if you're into it yunho will be more than happy to tap into it calling you little and bending you're tiny body in various position where he will look and feel huge over you just to make you shake and whine for him <3
the main thing that gets yunho's blood boiling is very simple: control.
well that's now that he is comfortable with you. because the first time you were intimate i feel like he was very very shy and you even thought it was cute how he got flustered the first time he saw you undress for him or how blushy he got the first time you told him how big he was (more big cock!yunho down below heheheheheh)
but as soon as he became comfortable the golden retriever boy vibe was out of the window as soon as you stepped in the bedroom.
yunho is a dom. plain and simple.
what he wants is for you to submit. he's not even necessarily the mean dom type (he def can be though) he's just the kind that would enjoy for you to be blindfolded or other kind of sensory deprivation or even bounded (if you're into that) he will go absolutely crazy for that
he would enjoy controlling you, getting you to lie down blindfolded and having you be completely at his mercy. He would trace his big hands across your nude skin and leave goose bumps scattered on your body, making you shiver with light touches just to get your blood boiling. He loves to see you pant and squirm with just a few touches. He’s the kind to tease like this until you have no choice but to beg him for more.
there only the real fun would begun skdlsklslkdls
most of the time yunho is making love to you. he doms you but he’s gentle, he whispers words of affirmation in your ear and is very attentive to your queues. he is very observant and will know when to stop/slow down/keep going. and particularly when he penetrates you. Since he's like big big. he always makes sure to go real slow. the one first stroke is always slow and deep, he pushes his big fat cock into you very slowly so you have time to adapt to him. and how he loves to see your lips go round when he bottoms out and his cock comes to kiss your cervix. h absolutely loves to hear your little gasps.
but most of the time you don’t take too long because he already prepped you with a nice session of fingering (and maybe one orgasm or two hehe). yunho doesn't have a hand kink himself but if you have one (if you are a yunho stan lets be honest here you have one lol) he will ABSOLUTELY TAKE ADVANTAGE OF THAT. at first it always starts as a joke to tease you. he knows how much you like his hands and he just loves to tease. at first he just strokes your thighs just to look at you hold your breath and ogling how his hand wraps perfectly around your thigh and how his veins pop out on his forearms when he squeezes your thigh a little. he plays it off as if he’s just minding his business pretending he’s unware of the effect he has on you but when you catch on to his teasing and playfully hit him he just throw his head back and laughs with that crystal clear laugh and creased eyes that made you fall for him. (he's just so cute and handsome and cute and handsome and slkdlskdlkdk)
but then his hand goes back to your thighs but with more purpose, it goes higher on your thighs closer to your center earning a little whimper from you and suddenly this sound makes him forget about the joke altogether. now he pushes his fingers inside your mouth, smirking when you instinctively wrap your mouth around them and suck on them while moaning, eyes fluttering close. 
he presses his other hand to your clothed core and just rubs you there until you lose your mind before you are even undressed
“you like that baby? you like my fingers in your mouth?” "what's that baby? you want them somewhere else too" *snickers cockily* "so eager" “thats it baby make them nice and wet for me so the slide right in your pretty little pussy”
before you know it he pushes two long fingers inside you making your back arch against his broad chest and broken cries fall off your lips.
one other thing: like i said mingi like to be praised and yunho likes to praise you (thats why yungi is match made in heaven)
he loves to see your reactions every time he praises you.
“that’s my good girl” “baby you feel so good around me” “look at you taking my big cock, you’re doing so great for me” 
of course that is interlaced with low groans and pants because i don’t think he’s the type to scream and moan a lot but he’s definitely not the type to keep all the beautiful sounds he can make to himself.
also like i mentioned in other parts of this series yunho is the jealous type. i think possessive even. but like contrary to hongjoong (who would just be upfront about it, confronting the person that hits on you) yunho is more subtle. if he sees you flirting with someone else he would come up behind you and wrap his arm around your waist, throw a defying (and ravaging) smile to his rival. but that’s the thing with yunho. his authority comes from within. he doesn’t even need to use brute force to get his point across he doesn’t need to raise his voice. everything is in the aura. nothing scarier than a mad and angry golden retriever energy boy.
as soon as the opponent taps out yunho is pushing you to a more secluded spot at your current location. If it’s a party it might be a bathroom or an unoccupied room. if it’s a mall it might be a quiet corner of the parking lot. truthfully he doesn’t care because right now he sees red and he needs to remind you that you are his. his only.
he would push you up against the cold concrete wall of the parking lot behind two big cars to be sure no one else can lay their eyes on you and overstim you out in the open until you can’t take it anymore. making you cum on his fingers and cock over and over again until you beg him to stop and he demands an apology from you which you comply to immediately in broken moans and sobs chanting 'sorry’s' and 'i wont do it again’s' until he’s satisfied.
but that is only if you piss him off. so dont piss him off (or do)
i feel like he almost 100% of the times finishes inside you. He just loves to stuff you full and hopefully make you a mom someday (even though he doesn't say it) so he considered this practice for when you are both ready
he loves for you to cockwarm him to sleep after he’s fucked your brains out and you both sleep cuddled up into each other <33333
screaming into the void because how cute (and incredibly hot) can one man be????
BONUS: tw: feet (don't read if it makes you uncomfy <3). idk if my brain’s chemistry was permanently altered by all the memes about this but i have started to believe yunho is actually into feet (yeah boo me if u wanna) when you think about it foot fetish is one of the most common one literally the most vanilla flavored kink ever (i don't make the rules) so it’s not impossible and i dont think it’s improbable. so here you go for this bonus: i feel like yunho likes the mating press for this very reason. because that way with your thighs pressed to your chest he gets to see your feet. when he pounds into you and he feels he’s close he would take hold of your foot and bring it to his face, heavily breathing and panting, getting your toes into his mouth and groan as he fills you up full of cum. one other way he likes to include some feet play is just to get a foot job, he would press both your feet together fuck his fat and mighty cock right between them. and nothing gets him more feral than to do that before he takes you and fucks your tight little cunt. you like the way he ruts into your feet because every time he does he sounds more rough, more primal then ever and you just think that's a good look on him. (not to mention he gets so worked up it’s guaranteed that he’s going to wreck your whole word right after) <3
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IF U WANNA HELP ME PLEASE REBLOG WITHOUT USING THE COMMUNITY LABELS 🖤
want to see another member? request it in the comments or asks <3
realistic sex with seonghwa, with mingi, with wooyoung | ateez masterlist | navigation
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sk-lumen · 10 months
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Date by honoring your nervous system.
This took me a long while to realize, but once I did, it changed how I see dating and chemistry. Let me explain.
When you realize that chemistry and flying sparks have zero correlation with compatibility, you've leveled up your dating mindset.
Most often those sparks and butterflies you feel, that's your subconscious picking up on familiar toxic patterns in the other person. Patterns which remind you of past experiences or even childhood trauma. Our brains are designed to see familiarity as safe, so when toxic dynamics are all you know, this can turn against you. You have to conscious rewire your brain, and be intentional and aware of how they make you feel.
Toxicity = familiar = safe = we interpret it as attraction. If they make your nervous system go haywire, we see this as chemistry and sparks flying, but it is actually alarm bells going off to signal we are not safe.
Healthy = unfamiliar = can feel unsafe and scary. We may interpret a vanilla, calm, comfortable interaction as a lack of chemistry. But there is a difference between no physical attraction, and being attracted to someone but not feeling any sparks. The latter is normal in the beginning. If your nervous system feels calm, they make you feel comfortable and at ease, that's a good sign!
So if there's any advice I would give to my younger self, it's this: date based on how he makes your nervous system feel. Does he make you feel safe, comfortable, at ease? That's the green flag to go for.
-Lumen
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kafkasmuses · 16 days
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the last days of judas iscariot — luke castellan + reader : betrayal hurts the saints the most. 
tags : mdni, dark!luke, angry kissing, religious imagery & symbolism, body worship, angst and smut, love confessions, p in v sex, corruption kinks, implied blood kink, hints of cannibalism
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there was something off about luke castellan. 
he used to be caring, sweet and selfless— he did everything for the people around them, offered them smiles even if it was difficult on his lips, did anything to ease their pain, built himself up into a saint. but eventually, saints will fall, whether it be their own doing, or a martyrdom. 
this was no martyrdom, he was not crucified, strung up on an olive tree, nor stoned. 
this was a conscious decision that nobody else, besides his own self, would understand. it was so, so unlike him, luke was never one to betray the people around him, well, at least he didn’t portray himself that way. if you really knew luke, you’d know how much he hated the gods, he felt as though he was a despicable creation of theirs, and he’ll return the same despising looks. 
but the story starts days before that, luke was as he always was. he offered you a smile from across the training field, and you returned it full - heartedly, waving at him. he moves to approach you, ignoring his sparring partner, “hey, do you need a partner?” 
you glance around for a second, “don’t you already have one?” 
his lips curve to a smirk, “i’d rather be with you.” 
luke castellan had a thing for flirting with you, even if he was just being a tease, and didn’t entirely mean what he said— sometimes you thought he didn’t, or he never did, but in all honesty, he meant everything. 
he admired you beyond proper comprehension, and you did the same with him. having been friends for years, it was no shock when your gazes would linger on each other for longer than they should, when he would do anything to make you smile even if it costs him his reputation. 
on the first day, luke was as he always was, confident, grinning and sweet. 
then the second day came, and luke’s smiles began to fade faster, he looked more tired, there was a certain mournful air that clung to his skin and radiated off of him. you picked up on it immediately, frowning at him and pulling him off to the side even when he was busy, “are you okay?” 
“what?” his saliva feels thick in his mouth, like globs of nectar that feel poisonous underneath their sweet skin. 
“i said— luke, what’s going on?“ you can’t deny how he seems to be out of order on everything, he was even fighting angrier, too, with a revengeful glint in his eye. 
“i really, really don’t know what you’re talking about.” 
“yes, you do.” 
and it only got weirder from there, on the third day, he looked straight up exhausted, like he hadn’t slept the past two nights, and now he was being told to take a break from sword fighting because of how rough he was being. smiles were common from him now but cut off quick, and laughs became rare. he wasn’t trying to make anyone else around him smile or laugh, and he always just looked angry, guilty angry. 
when you waved at him, he didn’t wave back, nor approach you. 
he didn’t want to speak to anyone, so he just didn’t talk. 
he’s suffering from something, you just don’t know what, and whenever you asked him, he shrugged it off with, “i’m just tired.” 
“i know, you look really tired, luke, do you need melatonin?” 
his teeth grit together, and the taste of nectar in his mouth had disappeared, now it was all just bitter poison, “i need to be left alone.” 
“luke—“ 
“please leave me be.” 
if anyone were to ask you now, they’d know you regret leaving that night, not forcing him to speak about it with you. the next night, another camper told you about what luke had done, and you hate the way you don’t feel entirely shocked, not even a little bit, not even at all. 
luke castellan had a fig tree branching out in front of him, so many possibilities, so many stories to be told, and yet his fingers wrapped around the only rotten fruit on the whole ripe tree. two thousand years ago, there was a man exactly like luke, one who went by the name judas, and in luke’s complete distaste of the bible and anything to do with it— he found himself undeniably following the same path of the man who betrayed jesus. 
“ i desire the things
that will destroy me
in the end ”
  — sylvia plath. 
it was a bad idea to seek out luke that night, you knew it well, and luke knew it too when he frowned at you almost immediately after seeing you. he was still in the woods, only alone now, closer to the shore, closer to the riper fig that called his name— the one labeled captain. 
“why are you here?“ his tone is sharper, harsher, but you don’t shy away. 
“why’d you do it?” you watch him visibly swallow at the question, as if he doesn’t want to answer it, even when it’s on the tip of his tongue, but for some reason it would hurt to say out loud. 
he bites the bullet, “you know— the gods, they’re awful, don’t you think they deserve this?“ 
“is that where your heart lies?” the question seems to scorch his skin more than the last, because it’s just a continuous waking to what he’s truly done, how the prophecy haunts him even in his desperate attempts to evade it. 
“i’ve suffered enough, because of them, because of him— so yes, that is where it lies.” 
“you think your suffering is just a one way street?” you pester, anger bubbling in your veins— this was selfish, entirely selfish, he was never the selfless man you once knew, this wasn’t the luke you knew, “it’s not, it wasn’t— you had the chance, luke, to deprive yourself from it.” 
“are you just here to lecture me?” luke’s jaw locks. 
“why are you being like this?” 
luke’s eyebrow twitches, as if he’s mentally debating saying it out loud, but albeit all odds, his lips part, “why don’t you ask that guy you’ve been hanging out with?” 
“what?” it’s hard to realize certain things when you’ve been so focused on one person, you were so caught up on your fears for luke you didn’t even realize that the whole time you were thinking of him, you were blatantly speaking with another man in front of his eyes. 
to the trained eye, they’d know you never had any real feelings for the man you spoke with, but luke was too blinded by his own guilt and resentment that he didn’t realize it himself. it was a wild string of miscommunications formed into a single spider’s web, exactly like judas’ betrayal of jesus. 
INTERLUDE : JUDAS ISCARIOT ( A STUDY ) 
judas iscariot is often portrayed as the traitor in the story, fueled by greed and his resentment that jesus has something he never will. in the original story, judas is put in the narrative as satan’s pawn, judas’ fate is already written down, and he has no way of pushing it back. satan selects him from a group as he is weak, easily moved, and satan had possessed him body and soul and lived out his personal purpose through the vessel. 
the son of perdition : the one doomed to destruction. 
god personally protected all of his other saints from satan, so why not judas? why was judas never enough? was he never righteous enough to be saved? jesus loved him, jesus held his face in his holy hands, and yet he never shielded him. 
judas is a pawn, a thief, a coward, and a denier of the lord. 
judas, in all fairness, is the spitting image of luke castellan. 
“is it ever anybody else, luke?” 
as if arrow met skin, luke’s brows furrow together like you’ve hit him. 
there’s a pause, a deafening silence. 
“i miss you,” you speak again. 
luke’s nose crinkles, “uh-huh.” 
“i miss you, luke.” 
luke castellan is going to hell tonight, he’s going to be scorched in the underworld, so he bites his tongue and he moves in. the kiss is angry, teeth clashing, tongues twisting, lips bruising, but luke wouldn’t want it any other way. he wonders that if, in this kiss, do you forgive him? having been someone praised by the gods, the favored one, did you forgive the one who seemingly betrayed them to most? 
the kiss says how could you? and i’m sorry at the exact same time. 
his hands are quick to grip on your skin like you were his lifeline, tugging you in closer, and smiling against your lips when you melt into his touch so easily. you knew how cruel of a man he was, all the things he did wrong, all the people he had hurt— and yet you’re easing against him like he’s a saint. 
his teeth show his hunger well, nipping at your lip until you hiss and pull away with blood bubbling from a fresh wound. at first, he wants to smile, but he finds some mercy, moving his hand to hold your chin, thumb smudging the blood, “‘m sorry, didn’t mean to, swear.” 
you knew he was lying, you knew he wanted to see you bleed, he liked the way your skin trembled under his touch, the way that even when shock dilates your pupils— you don’t want to pull away from him. in fact, something about it is oddly attractive to you, how sick is that. 
his other hand grips your waist, fingers curling cruelly, “could i..” 
undress you? touch you? luke isn’t sure of the proper words, they sit on the tip of his tongue, but something has him too afraid to say it so bluntly. that’s ironic, considering he didn’t hesitate to steal and lie. luke was still the loser he’s always been, deep down, he’s never known how to actually speak to women. 
you knew this well, it was something you always made fun of him for, but now you only smile sweetly at him. “of course, luke.” 
luke’s hands are desperate when they move to take off your clothes, quick and ruthless, but still so caring at the same time. it was confusing with luke, everything he did had two different sides that would merge together in an unlikely unison. harsh and gentle, bitter and sweet, mean and kind. 
his brows furrow when he dips in, pressing his lips to the skin of your neck, pushing you back into the scratching bark of the tree behind you. adam and eve, right after the bites of the apple offered to them. luke wants to sink his teeth into you, to bite until he draws blood, to devour you whole and call you his. 
that’s… normal, right? 
he doesn’t care, he’s only focused on the shallow breaths that pass by your lips with every scrape of his teeth on the skin being pulled between his lips. his fingers lead themselves further, dipping below the waistband of your underwear and further until you’re gasping and gripping at his wrist. 
“luke.. luke,” you plead, whimpering out for his fingers to have some mercy on your clit— luke ignores you, focused on the pleasure that’s coursing underneath your skin. he memorizes the thump of your pulse against his lips on your neck, the way it speeds up when his fingers dare to graze your entrance. you want it so bad, and it’s taking everything in luke to not be a cocky asshole about it. 
he eventually pulls away from your neck to admire his work, “have you always wanted me to touch you like this?” 
there’s something so poetic about someone who has betrayed the gods you love the most, ruining you. you truly could be awarded for how much you worshiped them, so unlike to everyone around you. they thought their parents were like anybody else, albeit just a little cooler, but you— you felt like a prophet. 
maybe you were, maybe luke was. 
maybe when the oracle whispered the prophecy she mentioned the fall of a saint, and the way he tugged another down with him. 
you look at him fondly, lips parted and puffy from biting, “always.. please.” 
please ; a simple plea, but it makes luke grin like a devil. his eyes follow your hands when you move to undo his belt, tugging at his jeans as if his fingers aren’t making your knees buckle. luke licks his lips, and finally allows you some mercy when his fingers leave your underwear, although you frown from the loss of friction. “i’ll make it up to you, yeah?” 
luke’s boxers and jeans are falling to the floor in seconds, he stifles a chuckle at your shocked expression to his size, only growing cockier and cockier with each second of this ordeal. it reaches it’s peak when he’s pushing into you, hand on your thigh holding up your leg with ease. 
his nose brushes against your cheek, whispering sweet nothings in between faint grunts with each thrust. you’re so pretty, always dreamed of this, better pray the gods aren’t watching. the last comment should piss you off, but it doesn’t, not at all— in fact, it only makes you wetter, the idea that the people you have given everything for are watching you being fucked by someone who despises them. 
his free hand moves up to your neck, wrapping around the bruised skin there, and gripping it enough to barely constrict your air flow. 
due to the choking, and the force of his thrusts, along with all his taunting words, it doesn’t take long for you to cum on his dick— and he doesn’t last long either. 
he finds himself panting against you, slowly pushing out. 
“you really should pray for forgiveness.” 
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floydira · 4 months
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₊˚﹒✶﹒trolls headcanons .ᐟ
brozone, creek & king trollex with a reader going through a breakdown, overthinking and panicking and how they deal with them.
note ; I somehow(?) accidentally deleted the person's ask for this. I don't remember exactly what they asked word for word. (I'm down on my knees apologizing to you rn, I'm so sorry anon 🙏) so hopefully based on my memory this is at least close to what you asked for. I also hope this headcanon is to your liking.
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☆★﹒🎧 ﹐BROZONE
John Dory
erm. well. let's just say when it comes to dealing with other people's emotions, he's not really the best guy to depend on...
BUT considering he spent years by himself (and rhonda) with no other socialization, plus leaving his brothers behind and coming back to them after awhile out of conscious but seeing them nowhere to be found, he definitely felt lonely and HAD his own breakdowns before.
so he'd understand how you're feeling, or at least try to understand.
when he first saw you breaking down, his first instinct was to ask you questions "why are you breaking down?" "did something happen?"
if he doesn't get a reply from you, he'll respect your boundaries and not ask any further questions. he'll just focus on comforting you in the present, awkwardly patting your back and giving you words of affirmation that he thinks would work. like those motivational phrases or quotes online, maybe even those ones that facebook moms use.
if you do give a reply, he'll sit down next to you and hear you out. sipping a drink and lending his ears for you to vent. he'll keep quiet (internally, he's restraining himself from outing his own opinions on whatever you vented to him about).
In summary, he's a listener. If you let him voice his own opinions, he'll tell you his thoughts and views. more often than not, if he does give advice, it's probably best you don't actually follow them. I feel like he's bad at giving advice...
at least, he's got the spirit!
Spruce/Bruce
this troll has a wife and kids. I'm sure he's knowledgeable in comforting someone when they are breaking down or overthinks a lot.
if you're overthinking, he'll support you and keep you company but he's also honest that helps you actually evaluate your overthinking thoughts and not stress too much about them.
once you come to him looking vulnerable, he'll immediately try to soothe you by rubbing your back gently. yk like those back rubs that puts babies to sleep? yeah, he'll do that.
while he rubs your back, he urges you to take a deep breath and let it all out. so you do. unknowingly you ranted and ranted, every little detail spoken word to word. he just has that affect on people.
lets you know that what you're going through is valid.
once you're all done, he'll give you advice to ease you or if you're not looking for advice, he'll just comfort you until you feel better.
Clay
he literally is in a sad book club, he'll have the knowledge about it and how to deal with it. except...he's slightly bad at executing it.
he'll snap you out of overthinking by yelling positive stuff to you, that are actually...effective???
if you rant to him, he'll listen to you attentively and pat your head afterwards. it's just something natural that he does, honestly head pats are soothing ok.
if you're okay with physical touch, he'll caress your face while giving you actually reassuring words. (LIKE. have you SEEN him literally pinching and squishing branch's face when he first met him after 20 years?!) of course, it's effective, combined with his already nice vibe (I feel like he naturally has a healing presence, he's just a sweet little boring cutie)
his method of comforting you naturally makes you feel better. he doesn't have to try hard because just watching his body language and mannerisms are dorky enough that it'll make you smile. he's unknowingly comforting in a silly dorky way. even with how badly he persists to be a very "serious" guy.
he'll definitely give you a big warm hug after everything.
Floyd
he's literally called the sensitive one. out of the brothers, he's definitely the one who understands you the most.
I don't think I even need to explain, you already know how perfect he is with dealing with stuff like that. like the time he talked to veneer about how his sister treats him and how he shouldn't let her be like that to him.
his face is full of worry if he sees you in a vulnerable state.
he literally gives the best hugs, it's canon, I know it's canon.
this emo mf knows exactly the right words to get you out of your vulnerable state for a while (bc the phrases he gives to others are probably what he wants to hear given to him).
he'll be really patient with you and help you with every step along the way even if you're having a hard time changing your bad traits.
he's also attentive at listening, he'll caress your hands with his thumb with a reassuring smile.
he'll be really sweet at tackling your situation and never makes you feel overwhelmed.
will cry with you tbh.
he's kind of helping himself when he helps you, because he's similar in a way.
Branch
branch was quite the panicker himself during the times when bergens ate trolls.
so he'd also know how to help you deal with it because he understands you.
he had to figure it out himself and was mostly alone to deal with his own vulnerability so he's happy to help you.
he'll look calm, composed and collected externally but even he, himself is slightly panicking on the inside. afraid that he'll let you down or he won't be of much help. don't worry though, he has it all put together after a bit.
If you're panicking, he'll help you focus, calm down and ease your hyperventilation.
"concentrate on your breathing, okay?"
once you've calmed down, he'll provide you with reassuring words.
he'll keep you company and stay with you until you feel composed enough to talk about it with him. he'll lend you an ear.
afterwards, he pats you on the shoulder and gives you advice that worked on him before.
━━━━━━━━━━
Creek
as bad as he is, he's literally the best when it comes to relaxation. he has that zen-like wisdom, so he'll calm you down and help you relax if you're panicking or overthinking too much.
just like floyd, he also knows exactly what to say to reassure or cheer someone up.
he'll give you a more positive outlook on whatever happened to you so that you don't overthink it.
tbh his voice itself is enough to calm you down.
he encourages different methods and ways(that he knows of) to you that could help.
King Trollex
this sweet goober offers you all his emotional support.
he feels upset, if you're upset. he's all frowny when he sees you vulnerable.
"can I give you a hug?" ofc he asks for consent.
will hug you tightly (he thinks hugs are a remedy for everything, besides music), quiet sobs are heard as his face is smooshed against your chest. just like bruce, he'll also rub your back soothingly while hugging you.
Intertwines both of your hands and encourages you to put your thoughts into words so that he knows what's going on that head of yours that's overthinking a lot of stuff.
keeps eye contact with you as you rant to him.
"you can get through this." he'll say with his cute smile.
the most he can provide is listening and comfort. he wishes he could help you more.
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