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#how he spends so much looking at other people's art and in a way; their identity and if he wonders if he could ever be like that
a-hazbin-reader · 2 months
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SHOWERING OR BATH TIMES WITH HUSBAND ALASTOR?!?!?!
YES
Alastor X Reader Headcanons
✅️Romantic
❌️Platonic
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TW: Suggestive
Description: ☝️⬆️
Bath time with Alastor is one of the most relaxing things you can do with him
It's the best because of the obvious trust he's giving you with his body, his guard down
As his wife, you're the only person who gets to see this side of him
He starts to find excuses to get you to shower or bathe with him, sometimes he's subtle about it and other times, he's not
"Alastor!!"
"My dear, you're soaking wet! Luckily, I have just the remedy for those cold bones~ A hot bath~"
🥶🙄😑😮‍💨🙂‍↔️
He likes bubble baths but won't ever admit it to anyone besides you, the bubbles just add something a little ✨️
Will literally melt into your chest the moment you start scrubbing his hair, the attention making him go lax
Not his ears going flat against his head and twitching
Sometimes he lets out a few happy growls or bleats whenever you massage somewhere particularly sore
Sometimes forgets he's in a bath and will try to snuggle into you only to get a shock of water in his face, arms wrapped loosely around your hips
There's just something so special about spending uninterrupted quality time with your husband like this
Not that he just takes baths to have you pamper him, he likes doing the same for you as well
He's used to people being wary of him or not fully trusting him, so watching you relax under his care-knowing just how dangerous he is
And trusting him with his claws and his teeth with your bare body? In your most vulnerable state?? It does things to him
Sometimes you forget how strong your husband is, but in these moments when he's maneuvering your body around to better wash you??
He could easily manhandle you if he wanted to
Takes his time washing your body but not necessarily in a sexual way, more like he's admiring fine art that he's allowed to touch
It's like the most heavenly massage, especially when his claws scrape ever so gently against your flesh
Sometimes, the two of you will just lay together and listen to music while waiting for the water to go cold
Maybe you two drink some tea
Showers with Alastor are a little bit different, not by much though
He kisses your body a lot more in the shower, no longer deterred by soap or stagnant water
You two don't normally have as much time together in the shower so the touches are a little more rushed, more rough
Still pleasurable though
It's not as much about cuddling and being close as it is about cleaning each other
Sometimes sex
If you come out with a few more love bites on you than before well...
Alastor is going to be stepping out with some of his own because we all know he started it
You two literally take up ALL the hot water when you shower together, Angel fucking HATES IT
Too bad bby boi
Your husband in all his wisdom even manages to always have the softest, warmest towels waiting for you
If you really play up the cute wife act then you're sometimes able to convince him to carry you to the bedroom
"Oh fine! Just stop using those doll eyes on me~"
As much as he wishes he could just lay in bed with you and never get dressed...you both have work to do
But he cherishes the moments he gets to bathe/shower with his beautiful wife and always looks forward to the next
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This one was so adorable 🥹 I hope you liked it
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kiss-me-muchoo · 3 months
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𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐮𝐬 || 𝐄𝐧𝐳𝐨 𝐕𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐜 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
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𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲_ you are the girl who does the makeup effects for the society of the snow and you fall for el pendejo de Enzo (no te creas, papi tkm💋). But you start avoiding him because it’s not correct to fall in love with someone like him.
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬_ AGE GAP (I’m turning 20 in March, let me live my fantasy), angst, fluff, Spanglish fic (I’m Mexican American, I know what I’m writing), reader is in denial and speaks Spanish, idk misunderstandings?, happy ending (irl Enzo nunca nos va a pelar)😭
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞_ I hate Spanglish but how can I keep both mi gente latino and my RAHHH🦅🇺🇸 people happy? With a Spanglish fic. I let go all my frustrations y lo ardida que estoy con cierto uruguayo.
♪ ♫ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝟒 𝐄𝐧𝐳𝐨 𝐕𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐜 ✰𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱
@kissmemucho on X // @_hannia.k on instagram
「 𝐃𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚_ para todas mis Enzo-motomamis del grupo que ya las quiero un montón y para Juani, que el hijodesuputamadre nunca me ha likeado ni topado. Me volví el joker y ahora soy hater (igual tkm jUaNi) 」
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One day, you started hating going to work. It was half work, half practice for college. Still, you started hating it. From moving some months to Spain to work on the makeup team for a movie, to spending hours with each actor to do their makeup.
That wasn’t the issue though. It was just that… uh… gosh.
You had developed a crush for that man called Enzo. It was so cringe to admit. And it tore apart you because he was significantly older than you. He would never turn to look down at you. That was the most honest thing about the whole thing. Only that you were even depriving yourself from being his friend.
But god, his pretty nose and deep eyes. His soft hair and perfect smile. The way he was so kind to everyone and to you. Soon you learned he was single too. It was so damn much that it made you so mad. He was perfect. Gorgeous in every sense.
And that’s exactly why you now hate going to work.
Sometimes the aura around the team seemed to be heavy due to the context of the movie. You had seen how every actor started to lose weight and prepare for the role. Which was a little tough. Anyways, everyone in the cast believed you were a burst of sunshine at least. Who seemed to make the hours spent seated on a chair with makeup and prosthetics being placed a little more fair.
“¡HEY!…GUAPA, VENÍ PARA ACÁ!” You heard as soon as you entered the workplace. Once you spotted the little circle of boys, you rolled your eyes and giggled.
“¿Y ahora qué se te ofrece Juani?”
“Que confirmes si vienes a cenar con todos” you looked at the others. Matías and the others were exchanging looks, with none other than Enzo. You don’t even look at the man, you can only focus on the boy with annoying blue eyes.
“Cómo jodes, chico. Ya veré si voy o no, tengo mucho que hacer” that was true, you had a lot to do. But mostly, it was because you believed you had nothing amazing to share with them.
“Podemos esperarte.” Enzo said, which immediately made your stomach flutter and your chest to get congested. He was wearing some t-shirt and those damn Adidas joggers he liked to repeat on a daily basis.
The fact that he suggested waiting for you to go out and have dinner should’ve made you blush, but it only made you nervous, increasing your eagerness to run away from the little circle of men.
“No pasa nada, váyanse ustedes. Que se la pasen bien…” and poor Enzo, he watched how you disappeared through the hallways with your big bag full of makeup and brushes.
“Ya va a caer…”
“Pero ni me gusta” everyone giggled. Enzo knew you were younger, of age, but younger. He also knew you were from a little too far away from Uruguay, that you were bilingual, that you were passionate about writing and other arts, that your eyes were lighter than expected in the sun, that your hands were very soft and that you were so extroverted with everyone except with him.
“Sos idiota, si no te gustara no te hubieras quedado como mogólico viéndola irse”
“Pero es una niña…” he tried to reason.
“La veinteañera universitaria que trabaja aquí en producción y anda sola por la vida” everyone laughed again. You were certainly an adult. Yeah you still acquired toys, listened to silly music and watched Barbie or Bratz movies. But you were legally an adult.
Which led Enzo wondering if he could ever have a chance with you. You had seen a lot of people, with how many times you had travelled to Los Angeles, the heart of Hollywood and everything, sometimes he doubted you could be interested in him.
But no… he definitely hadn’t caught an eye on you.
It was a Friday. A week from the day you rejected dinner with your workmates. Nothing serious happened after that. Juani made fun and exposed you with random tweets like a bully. He was laughing his ass off of you, so shameless and stupid. However, you on the other hand… were dying out of embarrassment. Especially after seeing how many people started following him. Then gifting him with an army of girls starving for shitpost around the internet.
“Si no estuvieras por grabar una escena tan desgarradora, te ahorcaba en este preciso momento, Juani '' you wanted to kill him. He had posted online two videos of you dancing like the proudest stripper, a picture of you rolling your eyes that looked extremely silly and dorky. Two audios of you cursing in Spanish and saying how much you hated capitalism. And he even made his own stickers of you to pass around the group chat of the cast.
“Eso te pasa por ¡RIDÍCULA!” The tone he used, extremely mocking you was enough to make you laugh along with him and caught the attention of everyone surrounding you two.
“Pues nunca te conseguiré el follow de los ex-One Direction” he stopped laughing, knowing you had made him remember his humbling twitter posts.
“¡Qué boluda… y pesada!”
“Okay, pinche ardido” one of the design team members from the movie appeared and handed you a little paper. It was the list of your schedule. Juani snatched it and opened it before you could even blink.
“UYYY… te toca todo el día con Enzo” he started teasing you like a child. You rolled your eyes in annoyance.
“Pero la boluda y pesada soy yo”
“Pues si” you finally read the paper and yes… 3 hours with Enzo.
“Well… it could be worse” you admitted sighing, accepting that you would spend three hours swallowing your pride and pierced feelings.
“Dejáte querer…” you frowned confused at the boy beside you.
“What?” You asked laughing, but he only shrugged.
“Nothing, dear” once again, you rolled your eyes.
“De verdad eres medio insoportable” he batted his ears, acting innocent. Deep down, both of you were actually friends.
“Te quiero” he responded, making you laugh once again.
“Si, yo también. Mi pendejito favorito”
“No, ese debe ser Enzo” this time, you blushed.
“Como chingas con meterlo en nuestras conversaciones. ¿Te gusta o qué?” He laughed, helping you out with your heavy bag full of brushes and capes and everything.
“No. ¿Y a vos? ¿Gustas de Enzo?” You remained quiet, pretending you hadn’t heard him.
You opened the door of the little room, surprised to see Enzo already there. So you grabbed the bag from Juani and started closing the door.
“Adios, naco perdedor” and just like that, you closed the door on his face.
You sighed, closing your eyes, before staring at the plain door for some seconds.
“Hola…” you heard his deep and sweet voice. It was just… that you had to be a big girl and leave aside your foolishness for that grown ass man. He was just a crush… a simple mortal at the end.
“Hi…” you replied awkwardly. You had seen the following section of his instagram, the most pretty girls, very different from you. Which made you feel… like it was auto-sabotage. But before you could start feeling depressed again. You decided to keep working, the only reason why you were in that room in the first place.
He would think you kinda disliked him. Every time you entered to work on his makeup, he would be smiling and trying to talk to you. And while you were polite and smiley too, you remained very quiet, always avoiding his cute eyes.
“¿Cómo estás?” He would ask, looking at you through the mirror in the room.
“Pues muy bien, gracias.” You would reply, turning to open the boxes with prosthetics and other special effects makeup. And he sighed, already feeling a little disappointed.
“¿Me permites tus manos?” You ask him. He shows you the palm of his hands with another smile, which you reply quickly. Your heart started pounding as soon as he walked into the room.
“Perdón si estoy fría.” You admit with a blush, knowing the tips of your fingers were freezing.
“No pasa nada, linda” he had to be joking. He couldn’t call you “linda” just like that? However, you do your best to ignore it.
So you start making little lines of the paint samples you had taken. Until you noticed which one was identical to his skin.
“Okay, I got it.” You speak to yourself, out loud though. Sometimes Enzo questioned if you weren’t fluid in Spanish, but he had heard you talk and talk with other people in Spanish. Your accent was so clean, so different to the rest of the crew.
“¿Te molesta si pongo música?” You ask him, grabbing your phone.
“No, para nada.”
“Nomás no me vayas a juzgar” you giggle without looking at him, scrolling through your playlist.
It was the first time you attempted to joke with him. And he wouldn’t risk the opportunity.
“Jamás podría…” you only thank him before starting to play some music.
He was used to your touch now. You had small and soft hands compared to him. Every time you had to pick the right tone that matched his skin, brush his hair and work inches away from his face. It was insufferable for you. And to him… it only built more intrigue.
He listens to how you barely mumble some songs.
“¿Quién es ella?” He asks at the song.
“Nelly Furtado” you reply, concentrating on his hands, starting to draw the fake wounds. Promiscuous was a great song to feel empowered while trying to beat the feelings for the man who was extremely close to you.
Some minutes passed and then Madonna came with Dress You Up and Enzo barely got it right. You sing very low and he tries to hear you with precision.
“¿Y esta?” You ask him when gorgeous started.
and God, that damn song was like a curse and blessing at that very moment.
You're so cool, it makes me hate you so much
(I hate you so much)
You've ruined my life, by not being mine
You're so gorgeous
I can’t say anything to your face
'Cause look at your face
And I'm so furious
At you for making me feel this way
That was you. That was how much you hated your feelings for him. Because he would never be yours.
And somehow, Enzo got the message. He wasn’t sure but he felt how you changed the way of singing and avoided his eyes.
“¿Y esa quién es?” He asked once again.
“Esa es Taylor Swift”
“No la conozco” you giggle, ignoring the song a little bit.
“¡Enzo, por Dios!. ¿En qué mundo vives?” You found it very hard to believe he didn’t know half of your musical taste.
“Pues en Uruguay…” for the first time, he makes you laugh and talks to you so fucking much that you have to stop spreading the fake dirt on his face.
You're gorgeous
You make me so happy, it turns back to sad
There's nothing I hate more than what I can't have
You are so gorgeous, it makes me so mad
You’re so gorgeous
“¿Por qué nunca sales con nosotros?” He asks suddenly, and it takes you aback. That you end up looking straight at his face.
“Tú tampoco sales, prefieres quedarte en el cerro” he laughs, feeling a little too comfortable under your touch on his cheeks and chin.
“He salido dos veces con ellos. ¿Y vos? Cero…”
“Estoy ocupada.” You simply reply.
“No es cierto. Por ahí me dijeron que te la pasas viendo películas y escribiendo fanfiction” you blush, but you keep working.
Actually, last Saturday was the first weekend you cried because of him. You couldn’t even stay at a local bar. You left your friends there to go home. New addition to your routine.
“Maybe… ¿pero a ti qué si no voy?” You ask giggling, hoping he would drop the issue. You pause the music and slip your phone inside your bag before returning to him. Scared of his possible answer.
“Pues… porque te quiero ver” your hands start shaking.
“¿A mí?”
“Si. A ti, linda” he senses how taken aback you are. And he realized, that he had adapted some of your slang words from all the time he spent with you.
“¿Por qué yo, Enzo?” He smiles, and you want to kill him. He made the gesture like you had been so oblivious for ages.
“Porque…” slowly, he grabbed your wrist, preventing you from keeping working on his face. He touches you with such gentleness that it makes you finally start shaking.
The way he looks at you. It must’ve been a dream, two pairs of eyes deeply connected. He was silently revealing he liked you. Once you get it, you shake your head, his eyes giving you some confirmation.
“No..” You brush away from him.
“Si… tal vez suene raro o no me creas… pero, vos me gustas. Por eso quiero verte y busco tus bonitos ojos cada vez que trabajas conmigo…” you sigh, dropping the brush and paint a little too violent.
“¿Y por qué yo entre tantas diosas que están a tus pies?” You are fighting against the tears already forming on your eyes. He remains quiet, and to you… that’s an answer.
He doesn’t like the way you are being too negative. But you don’t like having that conversation at all. You are shocked, and you don’t feel in love at that moment. You feel panic and stress.
“Fui al bar el sábado pasado y te vi con la chica rubia. Si te gusta alguien no dejas a la chica rubia hacer ni un movimiento. No te encuentras en redes a las chicas a las que les das reacciones” maybe you had no right to be so angered. But it had been two months, and everything had worsened. At that point, your eyes were already red and crystallized.
“Nada de eso significó algo”
“Si fue algo. Fue tu cuarteada en lo que buscabas la manera de acercarte a mí. Por si no te resultaba la cosa conmigo…” again, he remains quiet.
“This is bullshit. Mira Enzo, he estado aquí desde hace dos meses y nunca te acercaste. No te salió el amor por mí hoy” you spit with anger, grabbing your paint and makeup, hurrying to get out of there.
“Me has gustado desde la primera semana cuando te conocí. Pero tú no me quieres, y por eso te evado. Aparte del dilema de nuestra age gap, que podría ser un problema” you explain putting your coat on and grabbing the bag.
“Y eres una persona hermosa, Enzo. Sé que eres el amigo y novio perfecto. Pero mi intuición me dice que me vas a lastimar” he steps between you and the door. The proximity worsens everything, he wants to end it all for once with a kiss to make you feel the way he does.
It was already difficult for him. He had felt slightly depressed while filming, he felt weird, in company but alone at the same time. And he believed you were the right burst of sunshine to lighten his weird mood swings.
But you believed he was lying. He honestly felt hurt that you were mistaking him for some womaniser and asshole.
“No te vayas, por favor” he pleaded, shocked to see your teary eyes. So he started questioning what you said about being hurt.
“Ya acabamos, no te preocupes.” You manage to slip beside him, opening the door and leaving him alone.
The dramatic moment culminated in Enzo feeling more depressed and giving a sadder performance for the movie. For you, it gave you a reason to cry in the shower and stare at the balcony of your place for hours, contemplating the sky and feeling so damn weird.
You have flashbacks of seeing him laughing and letting the blonde girl at the bar whisper in his ear. His honest smile and how he admitted he liked you a day ago.
You wished for weeks, now months that he confessed his feelings for you. But the moment he does, it feels wrong. Like it wasn’t meant to happen. Because he’s older, he’s got more experience, he had a very extended long-term girlfriend once, he is too much unlike you.
Maybe it wasn’t meant to happen and this is how it was supposed to end.
With you bursting out in tears and anger. Him believing you were crazy, but you had a point.
He never made a move. Just trying to talk, but he never invited you to do anything with him, or just to stay with him during the free days. It seemed unreal that suddenly he liked you.
And maybe you’re just scared of falling in love, because he could unintentionally but potentially break your heart.
Nonetheless, on the second day you want to distract yourself, it’s Saturday again and you go out alone to jog, then to buy some new clothes and you are about to prepare your dinner when the pain in the ass of Juani asks you to go out for some tapas.
You agree because you really need to distract yourself from thinking about the whole cringy issue with Enzo.
Probably everyone in the production already knew. But you would shut your mouth just to let the rumours die.
You start your walk towards the restaurant when he sends you the location. It’s a few blocks away, and you frown when you see what type of restaurant it is.
“amiguito, pero creí que querías tapas. Este es un restaurante vegano” you send him a voice message. And he replies immediately.
“Ay pues para ser fitness un día nada más, chica. ¿Ya vas para allá?” You roll your eyes, not that you didn’t like vegan food but you wanted tapas.
“Si, morro meco. Ya estoy a un par de cuadras” you send back, putting on your EarPods and route.
You realise how much you like wearing sneakers, long dresses and coats with matching purses. Perfect for the weather and your silly thoughts of walking on the streets along some cool music playing in the background.
Until you arrive at the restaurant and you don’t spot Juani. But maybe he was on his way. So you order first, grilled tofu with vegetables and tangy sauce.
It’s a cute place, and by the time you find a table, it’s already dark. The restaurant has candles everywhere and quality music playing.
When you start closing your purse, you look up and you freeze. Because you see Enzo entering the place, with a tiny bouquet of flowers on his right hand and a water bottle on the other.
He was wearing jeans, a random buttoned shirt and dark sunglasses.
Oh, fuck him. Of course he knew he looked gorgeous.
Quickly you change from your seat, giving your back to him, hopefully becoming invisible.
Your fingers rush to find the contact of Juani and send him a violent voice message.
“Oye, ¿por qué carajo no has llegado? ¿Y por qué Enzo Vogrincic está viendo el menú ahora mismo?” You send and he starts writing.
“Es que él es vegano…” he writes in text, which boils your blood.
“¿Y eso a mí qué chingados me importa, Juani? Ven ya y sácame a escondidas o te juro que me voy a colgar del primer poste de luz que vea” you silently scream, lowering your voice.
“No puedo” that’s it, you’re going to die in a vegan restaurant while Enzo Vogrincic orders food.
You are about to stand up when he literally appears on your table.
Qué hijo de puta, y todavía te sonríe y todo.
“¿Y el Juani ya viene o no?” You ask, trying to sound confident.
“De hecho no va a venir” right, pinche Juani idiota, qué gran amigo y todo.
“That’s it. I’m leaving!” You mumble sighing, standing up from the table, when Enzo grabs your forearm and makes you sit again.
“No, vos te quedas. Mira, te traje estas” he hands you the flowers, yellow tulips.
“Yo nunca le he dicho a Juani… ni a Matías cuáles son mis flores favoritas” you frown confused, grabbing them.
They’re beautiful.
“Tuve que buscar por mi cuenta” he admits, and you frown deeper. Until you open your eyes in shock.
“¿Me zorreraste mi Instagram?” Enzo starts laughing, and you blush. He takes a seat and drops the receipt of his order on the table. You read it, chickpea pasta with arrabiata sauce and zucchini.
You read his order just to avoid looking at his eyes.
“Dejáme explicar todo…” slowly, you look at him. You are still on time to ask for the food to be to go, you can leave and just let this strange issue wash away.
But a waitress appears with your tofu and the pasta. You awkwardly smile and say thank you as well as Enzo.
“Pues ya que…” he smiles, thinking your eyeliner was so perfect. Your dress was cute and the coat made you look elegant and fine.
“Vos sabes quién te engañó. Le pedí que te hiciera venir a un lugar para encontrarme” your roll your eyes. Unbelievable how childish was the whole situation.
“Yo quería tapas”
“Dale, ahorita te llevo por tapas” Enzo says with a giggle. You simply mock him with a gesture and proceed to eat.
“Lamento no haberte dado señales desde el inicio. Creí que con hacerle plática cuando me maquillabas era suficiente.” He confesses.
“Con todos sos un amor. Y conmigo… siempre seria y pues… llegué a pesar que no te agradaba” you shrug, eyebrows rising and avoiding his eyes once again.
“Todo lo contrario…” you admit.
“Ya veo. Entonces hace unas semanas, los chicos empezaron a sacar el tema. Que debía invitarte a salir o hacerte venir con nosotros a comer para ahí verte”
“Y ayer me atreví. Pero temo que tu reacción no fue la que buscaba” he says with many pauses, not wanting to disturb you.
“Tú declaración tampoco fue lo que esperaba.” He nods, calming you.
“Ya lo sé, hubiera sido mejor esperar a estar en un lugar… como este”
“Quizá” you reason with him.
“Incluso desde antes de admitir que vos me gustas, no me he visto con nadie. Así que solo sos tú… nadie más” you nod, looking back at the tulips.
“Están preciosas, gracias” you say lifting the boquete. Enzo smiles. So you know it’s time, you sigh.
“Yo también lo siento por juzgarte sin saber. No tenía derecho de ponerme celosa, ni nada. Es solo que me da miedo dejar que esto, fluya…” you say, not wanting to repeat once again that your intuition said he would break your heart.
“No te voy a lastimar, nunca. Dejáme quererte, linda. Por favor….” he pleads, accepting he was nervous and desperate. He really longed for someone in the upside down moments of his days.
“Yo solo quiero sentir lealtad, confianza, pasión y seguridad. ¿Me puedes dar eso?”
“Te voy a dar todo, pero más lo que vos quieras. Y si lealtad, confianza, pasión y seguridad es lo que querés…. Así será, linda” you smile, finding his hand on top of the table, intertwining your fingers with him.
“Entonces todo bien, lindo” he smiles more, ending in a sweet laugh.
He helps you pick the rest of the food, both of you also order ice cream cones. Him with chocolate and you with pistachios. And soon both of you are walking together in the streets. Spring is near and it’s your favourite season. You feel happy feeling his warm touch outside of the job. And now being inches away from him feels like a new home.
“¿Si vamos a ir por las tapas?” He starts laughing again, and when he leans, you can feel what’s coming.
“Te voy a besar…” he warns before grabbing your cheeks and smashing his lips with yours.
“Te quiero” he spills, and you only smile on his lips, deepening the kiss. Feeling the silly butterflies in your stomach and intense tears of happiness. You almost drop your cone due to that.
“Yo también te quiero” you reply, swiftly bumping your forehead with him. He then takes your hand and suddenly you don’t feel wrong about it.
Now it feels perfect. Like destiny changed and finally it was meant to be.
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bluehourbucky · 1 year
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delicious
pairing: beefy!bucky x reader
summary: you obsessed with buckys thicc thighs
a/n: we've all seen the pictures and I know I'm not the first or the only one who's gonna write this but I have to bc look at him
18+
MINORS PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT
|main| bucky masterlist|
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anyways
bucky loves how affectionate you are and you're not shy about it either.
you're always touching him in one way or another, he likes the attention he relishes in it.
bucky loves that you show everyone that he's yours as much as he is showing people you're his.
but there's one thing that bucky knows makes you feral and he doesn't know why but he knows what.
it's his thighs you're worshiping like there's literally nothing better on the planet earth than his thighs - and there's not according to you.
you love to put your head on his thighs when you two are on the couch and are watching something, it is rarely that you choose somewhere else to lay your head on. apparently they are comfier than pillows.
another thing you love his thighs for is when you're feeling extremely horny and needy you would use his thighs for your own pleasure and never just one because the other one would feel excluded whatever that meant.
what bucky has a love hate relationship with is the way you tease him and it always starts with his thighs.
him driving you somewhere, your hand is in his thigh so close to his crotch but yet so far away.
out and about in public you squeeze it either for the possessiveness or because you seek comfort it's usually the first thing but oh well
dinner with friends is a torture the gentle touches drive him insane and you live for it.
the way you hold onto his thighs when you're riding him makes him absolutely feral.
but his favorite was when you're choking and sucking his cock and the more you do it you start scratching his thighs harder and harder, you're hugging them with every little atom of your body. even before you get to his cock you always and he means always spend a few minutes on marking up his thighs.
bucky didn't know he could love being marked like this so much but he does and it's no surprise his favorite season has become summer just so he could show off your art work.
he doesn't know if you love giving his thighs hickeys more or him receiving them..
bucky hates to admit but he loves when there's other spaces you could sit on, any chair couch bean bag literally anything, you choose his lap, it does wonders to his confidence.
one time when he was feeling a little insecure about his thighs bucky got a long and very pleasant reminder from you how his thighs are in fact the sexiest thighs on planet earth.
and you remind him of that every day.
"doll me and the boys are going out for drinks wanna come?" bucky asks and you check him out and stand up from the couch and walk over to him.
'in those jeans?" you eye him.
"yes?"
"you're not going anywhere in those, you're going to take them off right now also tell them you're not going that you have some unavoidable business to attend to."
and who was bucky to deny you pleasure of enjoying his thighs.
[the end]
likes comments and reblogs are appreciated <3
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fuckaperioddrama · 1 month
Text
Lorenzo Berkshire Headcanons
Warnings: Toxic / Enzo | Fem!Reader | Mentions of Cheating | Rough Sex | Dirty Talk | Manipulation | Mentions of Oral Sex (Male and Female Performing) | Mentions of Alcohol and Drug Consumption | Hints at Threesome/Foursome | Edging | Degradation Kink | Mentions of Violence
Proofread, but I'm sure there's mistakes.
Theodore Nott Headcanons
Mattheo Riddle Headcanons
Blaise Zabini Headcanons
Tom Riddle Headcanons
Draco Malfoy Headcanons
Masterlist
Author's Note: OH! SOME OF Y’ALL ARE ABOUT TO BE REAL MAD AT ME. I feel like the other boys have a lot of grey areas. There are some things we disagree on, but generally we’re all pretty much on the same page. LORENZO BERKSHIRE??? So many different takes.
Lorenzo Berkshire first appeared in a Draco Malfoy Fanfiction. “Filthy,” by babynaomi. You can find it on Wattpad, but here’s the link. It’s completed!
The author also has a series called, “The Diary of Lorenzo Berkshire." Y’all can find the link for that here. It’s ongoing!
I’m keeping in mind how the author wrote him, but I’m also giving myself a lot of creative freedom. This is all a combination of how I think Enzo is based off of what I’ve read and also how I imagine him. I don’t want to write him exactly as someone else has portrayed him. Once again, some of you guys might strongly disagree with me and that’s okay! No one is right, we’re all just having fun.
Anyways. Without further ado…
Lorenzo Charles Berkshire!
Minors DNI | 18+
—-
Lorenzo Berkshire | Physique
6’4 | He’s the second tallest in the group after Theo
I imagine him to be very broad and lean.
Broad shoulders, big chest, Like a thick Dorito, you know?
Everything about him is big
Big hands, feet, forearms, just…big
| Theo is the kind of tall where as you get closer to him you’re like, “Oh wow, this guys pretty tall.” Whereas with Lorenzo, you can see this man from 20 feet away and just KNOW. You just KNOW |
I don’t know why, he just seems like he’s into health and fitness but to an annoying extent?
Like why the fuck are you running 4 miles at 5:00 AM, Lorenzo? Go back to bed.
He puts a lot of effort into his appearance, but he's also someone who is effortlessly flawless
He tries, but even when he doesn’t he still looks perfect.
He's guy that puts you in a trance. No thoughts, just admiration.
Lorenzo Berkshire | Personality
Lorenzo Berkshire is frustrating.
He’s one of those ‘nice guys’ that reads poetry, plays piano, is into the the classics, and overall seems very aesthetically pleasing.
From afar, it’s easy to admire him. To want him.
But then you have an actual conversation with him and you end up fantasizing about punching him in his stupid, pretty face.
Mansplains.
Automatically assumes everyone isn’t as smart as he is. Even if you say you know what he’s talking about, there’s no way someone like you could possibly comprehend him.
GOD COMPLEX!
If you’re not in his friend group then you’re beneath him.
Only time he’s somewhat pleasant to people outside of his group is when he wants something. Usually sex.
Genuinely enjoys making people upset. He thinks if he can affect someone emotionally then he is automatically the one in charge in that situation and he likes being in charge.
Somehow is still popular? Everyone loves him and hates him at the same time.
Charming asshole.
There's just something about him that draws people in.
Inserts himself as a leader amongst everyone, but he can’t do that with the boys. He definitely tries from time to time, but they shut him down immediately.
He does fit into the aesthetic he portrays.
Reading by the black lake while enjoying a mini picnic he packed for himself
Loves art. I feel like he’d collect art pieces for himself and also really enjoys poetry
He is drawn toward nature and really does see the beauty in everything around him.
He’d spend a good 5 minutes just staring a spider web, admiring it’s beauty appreciating the work that went into it.
He sees a cigarette bud on the sidewalk and thinks it’s ‘poetic’ looking.
He observes the female body in all its art forms and he explores every inch of it every second he gets.
With multiple subjects. Sometimes two or three at a time.
He’s also a major party animal.
Drinking games, piercing loud music, and sex is an average weekend for him.
Never gets hungover and will burst into the boys rooms screaming GOOD MORNING at the top of his lungs after a night out just to piss them off
Despite his party boy behavior, he actually excels in school. Participates in class, high marks, etc
He's smart, but not super smart. He has to dedicate some time to study in order to keep his grades.
Can totally see him being a teachers pet. He takes pride in being favored by people in positions of power. He feels like it gives him power.
Very confident in his looks.
Keeper in Quiddditch because it feeds his ego. No one can make it past him.
Smokes weed. More of a drinker though.
Would and has done a keg stand.
Lorenzo Berkshire | Casanova
SLUT!
He has sex all the time and it’s never a secret.
He’s always talking about who he fucked, where he fucked them, and he likes to rate them too.
He keeps a mental note of who is the best at what so he knows who to go back to for certain things.
He has a blowjob person, a doggy style person, and a ‘will let me do whatever to them no questions asked’ person.
Egotistical Dirty Talker
He likes to praise himself and be praised
Listen to you. Whimpering like that already? I’ve barely even started.
It feels good doesn’t it? Tell me how good it feels.
You can't find better than this. You know nobody can compare me.
He goes on dates and has had a few girlfriends.
He loves the rush of everything being new. First kiss, first touch, first fuck.
He always cheats when he’s in a relationship with these women. He has some friends with benefits who he disguises in his social circles as just friends
He likes seeing his girlfriend fall in love with him, it makes him feel desired. But once he gets bored of her he immediately breaks it off.
It’s a complete flip too. He genuinely seems like he cares about them and then out of nowhere it’s like he just turns it off.
Will keep them on rotation though. Whenever he’s horny he texts a bunch of random people and will fuck whoever responded first.
Then when he leaves he’ll fuck whoever responded second.
Lorenzo Berkshire | Friend
Closest to Draco, but still has a unique special bond with all the boys
He’s had these individual moments with each of them that really made them closer
He’s a good friend to have,
He’s always there to help out and cheer the boys up when they’re having a bad day.
The jokester of the group and always knows how to make them laugh
He will defend his boys against anyone. He can say whatever he wants about them, but the second an outsider disrespects them he tears them apart.
He cares about them, but he has a temper.
Becomes a complete asshole when he feels threatened by one of them.
He is a jealous person and if one of the boys does better than him at something he lashes out.
Eggs them on, does petty shit behind their back like put itching powder in their underwear or hide their notes before a test.
He’s the center of most arguments in the group, but they always just punch it out and move on
At the end of they day, they love him and he loves them | Men are weird.
Lorenzo Berkshire | Boyfriend
Obsessive
He sees you as his other half
Since he thinks very highly of himself he feels like you’re some sort of a goddess to be the only woman to ever grab his full attention.
He never stops thinking about you. It drives him CRAZY
He’s always staring at you because everything about you is perfect to him.
Even when you’re stressed, sad, tired, or are not feeling like your normal self physically or emotionally he still is absolutely enthralled by you. Bad days and good days. He'll take it all. All of you every second.
Genuinely thinks you could do no wrong and will back you up in any situation.
You burned down a house? Must have had your reasons. | He supports women’s rights and wrongs.
He actually enjoys it when other guys flirt with you. He likes to watch their reaction when he walks up to you guys and claims you as his right in front of them.
Arrogant strides, one foot after the other before he yanks you to him, your eyes meeting his in surprise. He puts one hand on the back of your neck and the other on your waist as he ravenously presses his lips against yours. His tongue invades your mouth and his hands wonder instantly, groping every part of you. Your thoughts cloud as you mold yourself into his touch and all the while Enzo is staring at the guy the entire time.
The next day he finds them in some secluded hallway and breaks their jaw. He holds them by the collar, staring at them with a smile as the blood runs from their mouth.
I'm going to break one bone for each time you flirt with my girlfriend. Next one will be your neck.
You can never talk to another guy for long before Enzo is by your side and claiming you as his for everyone to see
Enzo is big on Physical Touch because it feeds his ego that he is the only one that can touch you.
Plus touching you just feels so damn good.
Pulling you into dark corners of the library and walking out with you sporting 2 love bites on your neck and at least seven on your thighs.
Hand low on your back, always touching your ass just a little bit as you walk.
Gripping the very top of your thighs when you sit together.
He always has his hand slightly under your skirt and a bit too high for everyone else’s comfort.
But if you dare try to move it, growing shy of everyone’s looks, he stares you down immediately.
Try to move my hand again, Princess. I’ll move it up higher and teach you a lesson right here in front of everyone. You want that? You want me to make you cum in front of all these people?
But if the stares bother you too much then Enzo would drag you back to his dorm so he can touch you in private.
Enzo enjoys the soft touches as well as the rough ones.
He touches you like it’s the last time he’ll ever be able to
Desperate hands clinging to you, holding your head in his hands as he kisses your forehead and rubs your cheeks with his thumbs.
Pulling you in for hugs that last forever, savoring every moment.
Slow and loving kisses every morning when you wake up and every night before you go to bed. He thinks it’s ‘good luck’ to start and end his day with a kiss.
He gets so moody if you ever wake up before him and leave without giving him a one.
He’ll storm up to you no matter where you are or who you’re with and he’ll just grab you and start smothering you with kisses.
Forehead, cheek, nose, lips, neck, wherever.
I need to compensate for my loss.
Huge romantic. Goes above and beyond.
Candlelit dinners, picnics, vacations, and he will spend days, weeks, or even months planning out every single detail.
Nothing ever goes wrong because he doesn’t let it. If something falls through then he’ll find a way to make it happen anyways. You will get nothing less than the best.
Enzo likes to spoil you
Gift Giving
While dating Enzo your wardrobe will continue to grow.
There’s just something so sexy to him about seeing you wear things he bought you.
Clothes, shoes, bags, necklaces, bracelets, etc.
Would buy you a promise ring early into the relationship because he loves fast and hard. Also because he likes to look at the ring on your finger.
And make sure everyone else looks at the ring on your finger.
He likes to let everyone know how much he spoils you so they know they could never compete with him.
But there's also moments that he saves just for when it’s the two of you, wanting the intimacy of being alone.
Without fail he always shows up at your door with a fresh bouquet and your favorite treat once a week. Never on the same day though. He likes to keep you on your toes.
Gift baskets. Lorenzo Berkshire is a gift basket man. He likes to buy you multiple things because he feels like only gifting you one item is never enough.
He would never just leave the items in the bag because he wants to have it nicely on display to you so he can see your reaction as your eyes scan all the different things.
He can and will give you the world.
Quality Time and Words of Affirmations
Enzo likes to spend time with you.
As I mentioned before, he sees you as an extension of himself so wherever he goes you go.
Sometimes you have to convince him to do things without you so that the boys can have a break.
They love you, but you see them roll their eyes as they try to talk to Enzo and his focus is solely on you.
He just sits next to you, kissing your jaw as he whispers in your ear
Do you know how sexy you look right now?
Mmmm, I love you so much.
You wanna get out of here? I'm hungry.
You’re just trying to do them a favor since Enzo would probably ruin his entire friend group if one of them even suggested not bringing you along
Enzo, it’s boys night! I can’t tag along on boys night.
Well why the fuck not?
He’s so stubborn. He can not fathom spending more than five seconds without you.
Eventually you’ll convince him to go have fun, but as soon as he’s done he’s back by your side in an instant.
That was awful, I’m never leaving you again.
You didn’t have any fun?
Of course I didn’t. Why would you even ask me that?
You’re being dramatic.
No, I’m not. You have to come next time. It's the only way Malfoy will make it out alive. If you’re with me there’s less of a chance I’ll beat him to the ground after hearing him complain for the hundredth time within the hour. Blaise had to stop me from killing him at least six times tonight.
If you’re there then I won’t have to explain to Narcissa why she can’t see her cry baby bitch of a son ever again.
You can’t help but laugh at his behavior, brushing him off before getting ready for bed.
And after any time spent without you, Enzo’s clingy behavior always becomes more intense. As soon as you wake up he's attached at the hip, making up for lost time and doing everything for you as an excuse to stay close to you
But Enzo has a funny way of doing things for you. He always incorporates a little bit of teasing into his Acts of Service
Bending down to lace your shoe and grabbing your hand afterwards as he looks into your eyes and presses a gentle kiss to your knuckle.
Flattening out the back of your ruffled uniformed skirt as you standup, grabbing your ass in the process.
Replacing your conditioner when the bottle starts to run low and leaving a note right next to it
“So your hair still feels silky smooth when I hold it while you choke on my cock.
Broom closet later?
Your Enzo”
Even though he likes taking care of you, it’s never for free.
Giving you his notes if you miss class, bringing you tea on late studying nights, or going out to buy you your favorite snacks when you ask him to
He always walks up to you, a grin on his face as he turns his head to the side and awaits his payment. You smile softly and press a kiss against his cheek.
Thank you, Enzo.
I’m at your service, Angel.
Now where’s my tip?
Lorenzo Berkshire | Committed Lover
Dating Lorenzo Berkshire is not for the weak.
Once again, Enzo loves to tease you.
Edging. Enzo will edge you for HOURS and he watches you every second
Sitting on the floor of his room, your heart thumping against your chest as you feel the pressure in your abdomen build before being ripped from of you. You cry in frustration looking up at Enzo through the reflection of the mirror in front of you. Your back is rested against his front, your legs spread wide open as he continues to pleasure and torture you at the same time.
Enzo! Please let me cum! Please!
I think I want to enjoy the view just a little while longer.
Degradation kink. Enzo prefers to be the dominant one because he loves being in control of you.
After edging you he’ll look you in the eyes as he spits in his hand wraps it around his huge, veiny cock. Up and down his hand begins to move, taking his pre-cum and using it as extra lubrication. He bites his lip as his eyes slowly move down your body. Fuck. His pace quickens and he rolls his head back, letting out the most bone chilling moan.
Beg for it.
Enzo...I need you
You can do better than that, baby. Tell me how much you need me to fuck you. Tell me how much of whore you are for me.
He lets you top sometimes.
He only does it if he’s feeling tired, lazy, or if he’s just in the mood to sit back and watch.
Arms rested behind his head as he looks up at you with a smirk. Something about watching you use him just does something to him.
Go on, darling. Do your worst.
And you do. Bouncing on his cock so hard the headboard starts bang against the wall. Pretty soon Enzo’s eyes roll to the back of his head and he’s gripping onto the sheets for the life of him as you fuck the soul out of his body.
It’s now you wearing the smirk as your boyfriend hangs his mouth open, gasping for air. He can barely comprehend a thing other than the feeling of your wet pussy moving up and down his cock
I’m not sure you can handle my worst, darling.
Enzo smiles to himself as you put him in his place. He had finally met his match and he couldn’t be happier.
———
When writing Theo’s it just felt like complete thirst. Mattheo? Sad boy energy. Lorenzo’s feels very analytical. I feel like I’m turning in a research paper.
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cal-flakes · 3 months
Note
sorry for spamming your acc i’ve js been obsessed with your fics!! i was thinking like reader only just getting used to Rafe spoiling her and then overhearing people call her like a gold digger and going back to not wanting him to spend as much as a cent on her and crying that people think of her that way and him comforting her and assuring her he WANTS to spend his money on her and takes her on a shopping spree the next day or something? idek, ignore this if you don’t like it ❤️
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╰┈➤ spoil you
warnings: cursing, threats (sort of)
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hot tears trickled down her flushed face as her hands struggled, furiously shoving the lavish materials back into their rightful bags. ‘she’s just using him’ — the words cut and nipped at her as they did laps in her mind, spitefully. she couldn’t see the jealousy in those same words through teary eyes, she almost believed them. what am i doing? she thought.
exhaling deeply, she sat back against her bed, her fingers threading through the plush carpet as her eyes scanned the shopping bags before her. dollars upon dollars lay before her, scattered around her bedroom, hidden by the paper wearing all of the expensive names. dior, chanel, versace and so on. her hands moved to squeeze and pinch at her own skin, desperately wishing to be out of it. she felt disgusting, how could she let such a sweet boy do this for her? how could such a shallow girl wear such materials?
her racing thoughts were quickly distracted by the heavy footsteps on the stairs, coming to a stop outside her bedroom door.
“y/n? baby? you ready to go?” the voice asked so calmly, blissfully unaware of the mess on the other side. through sniffles, y/n quickly wiped away the remaining tears. “i—um, i don’t think i want to go..” she muttered, just loud enough for a frown to pull at his features.
he tilted his head, unbeknownst to her as he moved to the handle, working quickly to shove the door open. rafe’s mouth fell agape as he rushed towards her frame, curled up on the floor, tear marks painting the beautiful dress he’d requested she wore to their date that day.
“sweetheart, what’s wrong? did someone upset you?” he cooed, yet the gruff, threatening undertone didn’t go unnoticed. shaking her head, she relaxed into his touch as he slotted himself next to her, pulling her head into his sweater clad chest. “then why are you crying baby?”
catching her breath, her eyes moved to the floor, unwilling to meet his eyes as if she’d burst into tears once again. “do you— do you think i’m using you?” y/n whimpered, blinking away any tears threatening to spill. rafe’s eyebrows knit together as he craned his neck to look down at her, all sorts of questions filling his mind.
“my sweet girl— what are you talking about? ‘course i don’t” he soothed, reaching a steady hand to cup her cheek. “why would you say that?”
after a good, long hour of more tears and an abundance of reassurance, rafe had finally managed to calm the flow of tears seeping through his sweater, through the art of forehead kisses and soft words.
“baby, what have i told you about listening to such spiteful words? huh? you are in no way a brat, or using me, or shallow, m’kay?” he sighed, pulling his lips into a thin line. “i buy you these things—“ gesturing to the mountains of bags and teddy bears, “because i want the absolute best for you, i want you to feel good, i want you to feel so unbelievably adored you don’t know what to do with yourself, alright?”
“but— but i can’t do the same for you rafey, i want to, i want to buy you things too! but i can’t..” she frowned, her bottom lip wobbling as she spoke. “you do enough y/n, you don’t need to buy me things, the feeling of you lying on me at night is enough, the smile on your face when i walk through that door— is more than enough”
sighing contently, y/n nodded as she melted further into him— if that was possible.
“you gonna cheer up now? let me take you out?” he chuckled, twirling a slender hand around a couple strands of her now tangled hair. “mhm”
“wait! your walking too fast rafe!” y/n pouted, drawing a hearty chuckle from him as he came to an exaggerated halt. holding out his arm for her, he waited as she skipped along the concrete, giggling profusely as she quickly linked her arm with his. “where to first?” he asked, the infamous smirk once again plastered on his face.
y/n’s face scrunched as she thought hard about this question, her hand— which was tightly wrapped around his forearm, coming to her attention. “well, i do need my nails repainted, they’re so grown out now!” she chirped, beaming up at him hopefully.
chuckling, he pressed a quick kiss to her cheek before leading her through the streets. “little brat..” he muttered, just loud enough for her to hear. “hey!” she yelped, swatting his chest. “that’s not funny!”
“only teasing sweetheart, what colour were you thinkin’?”
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livlaughloveluke · 2 months
Text
𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤 - 𝐥.𝐜 🪸
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daughter of demeter! reader x luke castellan 🫧
summary- the “best friends” of camp half-blood maybe wanna become a little more..
warnings- fem!reader, not proofread
1.7k
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Camp Half-blood was illuminated by gold streaks casted from the early morning sun. Light seeped into Cabin 4 through the window, painting the room with warm hues of yellow and orange. The bright rays were a natural alarm, gently waking you from your warm sleep. 
As the covers slipped off your skin with ease, you carefully tiptoed out of the twin bed to close the blinds. Young campers softly snored, and you couldn’t help but smile at their blissful state. Grabbing the rough fabric, you quietly pulled the two pieces together, blocking any more sunlight from startling your siblings.
Sleep still threatened to drag you under, so you slipped on sandals and trudged towards the kitchen, eager to get a warm cup of coffee, or really anything to help you wake up. 
Outside was fairly silent, contrary to the rowdy and noisy afternoons that typically filled the camp. The only ones awake were boisterous birds, who sung an enchanting song, and a few other counselors who were busy setting up  for the day. 
Your steady steps carried you to the small camp kitchen, where snacks littered the room as a reward for the effort of the counselors. A small jet black coffee maker stood on the counter, with Luke Castellan lingering next to it, facing away from you. Your presence went unnoticed by him, and you watched as he swiftly picked up two steaming mugs.
He slightly jumped at the sight of you, surprised by your hushed entrance. 
“H-Hey. Made you your coffee.” He said, reaching out to awkwardly hand you one of the energizing brown liquids. You delicately giggled at him for his initial fright, and accepted the sweet gesture.
“Thank you. Excited for today’s activities?” You asked, taking a sip of your toasty drink. Today, Hermes and Demeter Cabin were partnering up for a lazy day doing arts and crafts and indoor activities. The kids spent the past week relentlessly training, working hard from dusk till dawn, so an easy day was needed.
“Any time I get to spend with you is exciting.” Luke replied, smirking, before realizing how that sounded and backtracking. “I- Uh, I didn’t mean it-“ 
You laughed again, quickly cutting him off.
“I know what you meant. See you at eight.” You turned away, teasingly bumping his shoulder. 
“See ya.” He whispered out, pursing his lips and doing a slight nod as he witnessed you sauntering away. 
You and Luke had been close friends since the beginning. He arrived with Annabeth and Grover, confused and broken by the world. Luke never wanted to be a demigod, to lose Thalia. It was all too much for him.
But then you passed by in the infirmary, practically radiating a positive energy. You smiled at him, a genuine smile, with your nose scrunching up and your eyes nearly closing, before going to chat with some Apollo kid.
You were selected to give him and Annabeth a tour later that afternoon, presumably for your friendly and charming personality that seemed to lure people in. Luke got to observe your perfection firsthand as you helped the his sister adapt to the new surroundings, sweetly showing her everything to love about camp.
Luke followed you around like a lost puppy, mesmerized by your every move. With every step you took, luscious flowers blossomed, creating a beautiful scenery. Not to mention, the kids looked up to you so dearly, with the way you patched their nearly invisible cuts and grew them tulips on their worst days. 
The sad reality was you were more of a mother to them than their biological parents, even if you were only fourteen at the time. You did your best to make them feel “normal,” to let them live a glorious childhood that you were never granted. 
In those five years after his arrival, you became close as ever. Whether it was spending time basking in the strawberry fields or splashing around in the lake, you spent every minute together, your bond stronger than any weapon forged in Olympus. You laid by him on those restless nights before he got claimed, and after, too. And when you had a small cold, he went full Apollo-mode and spent hours glued to your side until you felt better. 
However, there was one teensy issue. Luke was hopelessly and utterly in love with you. Every one saw the way he gazed at you a little too long and with a little too much love in his eyes for just a friend.
Well, all noticed except you. The poor boy thought you weren’t interested, but the reality was your concept of love was so twisted and blurry that you had no clue what “love” even looked like. 
So, both you and him stayed silent, hoping one would realize eventually, and end this torture of a situationship.
Which brings us back to now, a cool and humid lazy morning with the campers, lounging on the few picnic tables decorated outside Hermes Cabin. Luke watched as you sat with your (and his) siblings, carefully threading pearly pink beads on a flimsy string. You laughed as you talked to the young children, making sure they were all included. The sun brightened your features, making you appeal heavenly. And your eyes twinkled with curiosity as a little unclaimed kid ranted on about some silly story.
“Dude, you’re staring again.” Chris chimed in, raising his eyebrows as he continued to paint navy shades of blue onto a rock.
“Shut up. Aren’t you whipped for Clarisse?” Luke sarcastically asked.
“If anyones whipped here, it’s you. How long have you liked her now? Can’t you just tell her already?” He was quick to return the sassy attitude, remaining unbothered by his friend’s remark.
“It’s not that simple, you know that. What if she doesn’t like me back and-“ He tried to ramble on, negative thoughts swallowing him whole. Luckily, Chris was there to pull him out of his own mind with yet another dumb comment.
“Damn. I knew you weren’t Athena’s son, but I didn’t know you were that clueless.”
“What?” Luke questioned, slightly offended.
“How many guys has she dated since she met you?”
“None. But I don’t see how this really relates-“
“And how many have asked her out?”
Luke paused for a second. There was Ethan from Ares, who tried asking her on a date a week ago, but she declined. Or Jack from Aphrodite, who, let’s be real, was the most attractive boy in camp, but she rejected him, too.
Chris took his silence as a victory. “Exactly.” He retorted.
“Whatever.” Luke shrugged, hopping up to sit by you. You scooted to your left, making room for him instantly. Cheers erupted from the campers as they saw their (second favorite) counselor.
“Luke! Y/N told us that you still snore when you sleep!” One of them pipped out, sending the rest of the minions into a giggle fit. Luke took a dramatic gasp in, placing a hand on his heart to pretend he was hurt.
“I do not!” He yelped, making the younger laugh even harder. He couldn’t help but smile as he watched the kids joke around.
“I can’t believe you would betray me like that!” He said to you, trying to fake upset, but the huge grin on his face said otherwise.
“I mean, am I wrong? You are the loudest sleeper I’ve ever met!” You reply, grinning.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He looks the other way, and before you can say anything, a voice cut you off.
“Hey! Luke, Y/N!” A blond Apollo child shouted from afar, gently jogging while approaching them. They shifted their attention, prepared to fulfill whatever task presented.
“Chiron needs you in the office. New kid arrived. They said his name was Percy or something?” He finished, jogging away, most likely to get back to the infirmary.
The leaders looked back at their older friend, wondering if he could cover while they helped this newcomer out. 
Chris gave a thumbs up, signaling he could watch them for a few minutes. 
You and Luke playfully danced around one another on the short stroll, talking about anything and everything while you walk through the woods.
Soon, you reached the open building, the stain glass windows casting a colorful glow. You peer inside to see a blond teen, looking around twelve years old, arguing with Dionysius.
“Peter Johnson is here!” The drunk croaked out, and the two counselors made sure to swoop in. 
“Percy, Right?” You said, slightly a little too enthusiastic for 8am on a Tuesday morning.
“Yeah. At least someone around here can get my name right.” He rolled his eyes. 
“Sorry about that. He can be a little.. chaotic. I’m Y/N, counselor of Demeter Cabin, and this is Luke, counselor of Hermes Cabin. We can give you a tour, if you want.” You explained, gesturing towards Luke who gave a friendly smile.
“Yeah, sure.” The blond boy replied.
-
“And this is Hermes Cabin, where you’ll be staying.” Luke exclaimed, pointing to the rough looking room.
“Uh, no offense, but why am I staying here?” Percy asked, disgust lingering in his words as he stared down the messy bunks.
“Uh, Offense taken. First of all, we’re definitely the best cabin of all time. And all unclaimed campers stay here, along with children of minor Gods.” The brunette said.
“Hate to break it to you Luke, but Demeter absolutely solos your Cabin.” You cut in, mouth letting out a ‘tsk’ sound. 
“Slow your roll there. Your cabin may be neat, but the amount of plants in there is slightly concerning.” Luke joked, you and him now unknowingly engaged in your own little conversation.
“It’s better than your pig pen!” You shouted, your sweet laugh echoing throughout the area.
“Whatever you say, Princess.” He replied, and Percy took a step back, running into an older teen, staring at the “friends” who were flirting right before everyone.
“Do they always act like this?” He asked, referring to their nonstop conversations, and their slight physical touch. Your fleshy fingers were somehow always grazing his calloused skin. 
“Always. It’s sickening.” Chris replied.
“Agreed.” Percy sighed out, as Luke looked back at the two. They both gave an encouraging look, telling him to shoot his shot. 
“Hey, I was wondering if you, uh, wanted to go out to the lake tonight? Just us?” He asked you, throat going dry and knees threatening to buckle as he fidgeted with his thumbs.
“I’d love too, Luke.” You replied, blushing as you swayed nervously.
“Great! It’s a date! Unless you don’t want it to be-“ He was quick to start, but you briefly interrupted.
“I’d like that.” 
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711 notes · View notes
kenjakusbraincum · 5 months
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Hi, i can’t help but request this because you write so beautifully.
So I just had the idea of a former ballerina being sacrificed to Sukuna. She does her work good and gracefully but she longs for old times where she was able to dance and feel like she’s flying again. So she does it in the evening in Sukunas garden. He of course notices and as culture lover he is he makes her his personal dancer. And a cute lil love story forms from this scenario.
I would be so thankful if you form this to a proper story because i don’t have enough imagination. Love your work
Thank you for the compliment! I apologize in advance for my butchered descriptions of dance scenes and hope you like what I came up with anyways <3
Swan Lake
Sukuna x Reader
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Word count: 6.3k
Tags/warnings: gn! reader but the words maid, whore and bitch are used, true form! sukuna, bullying, fluff with a very brief and soft smut scene at the end!
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Sukuna doesn't care where his servants come from. People get offered to him all the time, and he takes them when he feels his palace is understaffed. And that happens quite often, considering how eagerly Sukuna gets rid of his servants for the smallest inconveniences. His staff is disposable to him, having no value beyond the services they provide him with.
So he doesn't know about your past. He doesn't know you were once an esteemed entertainer. He doesn't know that you were touring the world, sharing your art with audiences of all different classes and ranks in society. He doesn't know you were once the star of the stage, hypnotizing people with the fluidity of your movements in rhythm with the music. He doesn't know you were snatched from fame, taken against your will and brought to him to pay your capturer's debt. You're not sure he's even properly looked at you, much less heard your capturer tell him who you are. You were that worthless to him.
Now you are but a maid. You spend your days on your knees, mopping blood soaked floors. At night, you share chambers with dozens of other servants. Privacy is a foreign concept in Sukuna's palace. You are not entitled to it even in the bathroom. Everything is shared for the servants. There's no space for you to even try to indulge in your beloved profession, even as a hobby. Except...
The garden. Most servants are in bed, prepared to sleep, but your eyes linger on the windows. In every way, going to the garden would be to your own detriment. Losing sleep was dangerous, it could lead to getting caught slacking off, or being ratted out about it. And the consequences for that... well. One could only imagine it wouldn't be a simple slap on the wrist.
Still, you longed for this. The work you did during the day drained you, it was repetitive and soulless. You weren't made to clean floors. You were made to dance, it was your destiny. Since childhood, you don't remember a period of time as long as this one, where you haven't had the opportunity to enjoy your passion. Tears stung your eyes as this revelation found you. Every day, you could feel your life slipping through your fingers. You were alive, but your energy, your liveliness, your personality, all of it was dissipating in the pools of blood you were forced to clean.
''Can you be quiet? Some of us are trying to sleep.'', a servant who sleeps in the bed next to yours snaps you out of your thoughts. You are sobbing. You apologize quickly, and snuggle in bed, trying to muffle the noises against your deflated pillow.
But sleep just doesn't take you that night. You grow more and more frustrated, as time passes and you toss and turn in bed. Eyes wide open, fixed to the window across you. The garden lures you, calls for you. Damn it. You have to try. This is not much of a life anyways, you think. Sooner or later Sukuna or Uraume would find faults in what you're doing anyways, and you'd be served for dinner. You don't exactly have a lot to lose.
Sneaking out of the chambers is easy. You spent your whole life on your tippy toes. No one moves in their sleep as you cross the room, open the door and slide through the crack. Quietly, you make your way around the mansion. Outside, you're greeted by a light summer breeze. The garden is eerily peaceful, lit by the moonlight in this late hour.
You start to warm up, hopping, circling your neck, swinging your legs. Feeling the stretches in muscles you forgot you had. The grass tickles your legs as you splay across the ground and reach for your feet. Then stand and shift your weight to your toes, feeling out how rusty you've gotten in the time you've missed out on practicing. It's not too bad.
So you start out slow. The music plays in your head and you mouth silently, counting the rhythm. Your eyes are glued to the ground, you're trying not to trip and fall on the uneven surface. Your movement feels as smooth as it did before, but you can't see yourself in the mirror to check your form. You close your eyes, surrendering to the cadence of your motions. The music carries you, and as you turn into a poised second arabesque, time seems to slow. It's only a moment, but when you turn back to continue...
Slam. So hard you start to fall back, but his arms catch you around the waist. If you weren't scared out of your mind you would've wondered how did he even show up there without you noticing. But of course, he's Sukuna. You look at him with eyes so wide you think they may fall out, and he stares back with an amused smirk. Then he bites the air in front of you, clanking his sharp teeth together, and you scream in response. His hand flies to your mouth in an instant and he shuts you up.
"Quiet now. You wouldn't want to wake your colleagues up, would you?", he tilts his head, observing your terrified expression. "Or do you want everyone to slack off with you tomorrow?"
"I-I won't slack off I promise!!!", you panic, hands shaking as you bring them up in a defensive stance. Tears pool in your eyes as you stare death in the face. He is... weirdly beautiful, lit by the moonlight. And he holds you sturdily, but gently. It doesn't hurt. And he doesn't seem particularly mad.
"Is that so?", he asks. There's a smile on his face, but it feels dangerous, threatening. Like everything else about him. "Then just what do you think you're doing outside at this hour?"
"I was- I was dancing -", you stutter, struggling to form coherent sentences. Why are you so close to him? You're pulled flush against him. You can almost feel his -
"I didn't know I had a dancer in my ranks. Why didn't you say so?", he says, and surprisingly lets go of you.
You're so sure he's playing with his food. You're so sure he's going to slice you into pieces. You've already crossed so many lines, broken so many rules. You look to the ground, only now remembering eye contact with him was strictly forbidden.
"Speak.", he growls, audibly irritated by your refusal to reply.
You didn't think he was genuinely asking. What the hell are you supposed to say? Why didn't you say so? Maybe because you wanted to see the light of day again? "I ... A lowlife such as myself has no place speaking to your Highness.", you duck your head low in an apologetic manner. And he seems satisfied, smiling playfully again. Except you don't see it, you feel it. Sukuna's presence pulls the most demeaning, self-depricating things out of people's mouths.
"Humble.", he comments and walks a couple steps around you. He's huge. "Go on then, dance for me."
You stand frozen. It's not that you're ashamed... you've performed for audiences bigger than you ever could've imagined. But the weight of his stare is harder to bear than that of hundreds. And the stakes are higher than ever. He has to like it, or else...
"Dance!", he orders sternly, and crosses his arms over his chest. So you give it your all. Remembering where he interrupted you, you get back into position and start. Dance. Your life depends on it, doesn't it? Well if there's one thing you can do to save your life it should be this.
But it's not like before. Fear seeps into every muscle in your body, and your movements are unsure. Every jump is fleeting, every landing shaky. Tears blur your vision, and it's so hard to keep your breathing steady when you're struggling not to cry. But you're a ballet dancer, you were trained to endure. You finish the variation, cross your legs and gracefully bow.
Sukuna watches intently with narrowed eyes, like a predator stalking his prey. You can't see the sly smile on his face, but you can feel it.
"I apologize, your Highness.", your voice trembles. "It wasn't my best."
Sukuna huffs in amusement and waves his hand dismissively. "Go to sleep.", he orders.
You bow before him again, and quickly turn back towards the mansion. You don't feel relief from his piercing stare until you disappear behind a corner in the hallway.
You can't shake the feeling when you're back in your bed, snuggled in the sheets up to your eyes. You just survived a close encounter with Sukuna. And he must've liked what he saw at least a little bit, if you're still alive.
The next morning, you wake up and start getting ready for work with the other servants. The bathroom is busy, and as there's little else to do in the servant circles, gossiping starts immediately.
"Did you hear the scream last night?", the servant taking up the sink next to yours says, tapping foundation into her skin.
"Screams come from Sukuna's chambers all the time. It must be a new pet getting used to him.", another one replies. You shiver.
"Everyone knows how that sounds. This was different!", the two maids exchange a look.
The second rolls her eyes. "So, he killed someone. Nothing new.", she shakes her head.
"No. Uraume would've called someone to clean it up immediately.", the first servant continues. You really, really wish they would just drop it, until... "Hey you.", she turns to you. "Your bed was empty last night, did you hear anything?"
Your blood runs cold. "I was... feeling sick. And went to the bathroom.", you say quickly. "I probably couldn't hear... over the sound of throwing up."
"Hm.", both of them look at you now. "Well you look sick too.", one of them says. "Be careful with work today.", then they finish up and leave. You breathe a sigh of relief and finish up getting ready.
The next few days pass spotlessly. You don't cross paths with Sukuna. But some nights, you feel his presence in the garden. You stretch and practice simple movements in the bathroom, when no one's around. And the variations, you save them for the garden. At night. The only time you feel alive, the only time you feel like yourself. Human. Free. You think you might just get away with no one knowing, but then...
He walks past you and another maid while you're scrubbing the floors in the hallway. Both of you freeze as he passes by, assuming a submissive position and greeting him. You pray he won't notice, pray he won't know you by your voice, but he stops. Right by you, and then there's a moment of silence. He lifts his foot, touching your chin, and nudges you to look at him.
"Oh.", you watch his stern expression soften. "It's a shame for a talent like yourself to waste away on their knees.", he says. You look to the servant next to you, and she mouths a silent 'what?' as she turns her head in your direction.
You swallow your shame. It's not the first time you had to in front of Sukuna. "Its an honor to serve you, your Highness, even if it's on my knees.", you say.
Sukuna hums. "What a good servant you are.", an amused smile graces his face once again. "Well, get to rubbing then.", he nudges your face back downwards with his foot, and walks away.
You and the servants keep rubbing intensively, until he's out of sight and a couple minutes have passed. Then she grabs you by your shoulders and gives you a look that is both terrified and angry. "You did what with Sukuna?", she asks.
You frown, offended. Why does everyone in this mansion immediately think of that? "He knows I'm a dancer.", you say simply and look back to the floor, rage brewing in your chest.
"When did you do it. Was it you screaming? Oh my god it was!", the revelation hits the servant and she puts her hands on her cheeks, looking at you in shock.
"It wasn't me!!", you lie, agitation showing in your voice.
"Does he really have two dicks?", she asks.
You drain the washing rug and smack her in the face with it. "You disgusting pervert, how dare you ask that about your master!"
"You hit me! Whore!", she smacks you back, but harder, and her rag is full of dirty water.
"I'm not a whore!!", you cry, and wipe your face with your dirty, wet hands.
"Dancer. Yeah right, I can only imagine!", she throws the wet rag on you, and it sits on your lap, soaking you in the nasty liquid. "And you're a liar too! How shameless!"
"What is this commotion about?", a voice calls from the back of the hallway, and you turn around with teary eyes. Uraume looks like a blob of white in your vision, nonetheless they're recognizable.
"Tell them! You hit me, you little bitch!", the servant slaps your shoulder. You don't have it in you to fight back. The injustice pains your heart, and you can't bear the embarrassment.
Uraume smirks, noting your disheveled appearance. Your whole uniform is soaked now, even your hair. There's a pool of water forming around you as the liquid seeps out of the rags. "Clean this mess immediately. Master will be notified of this issue.", they say, and walk past the two of you.
The servant looks at you with contempt burning in her eyes. Then spits in front of you. "Clean.", she says, takes the rag you hit her with and starts cleaning.
Sukuna sees you that evening. He sits on his throne, head in his hand, and looks down on you and the other servant. He hides his inner smile, the joy he takes in executing power over others. And it's you again. He asks what this is about, and the servant wastes no time pointing her finger at you, saying you hit her first.
Sukuna's critical stare turns to you. ''Is that true?'', he asks, scanning you from head to toe, noting the state you're in. He's not particularly happy to see you like that.
You timidly nod, admitting your fault in the situation. Your stare is fixed to the ground, where dirty water drips down from your soaked clothes. You smell, and look like a rat, all of that in front of Sukuna. You wish the ground would swallow you whole and spare you this humiliation.
But he knows you. You've captivated him. Otherwise he wouldn't have cared to ask if you have anything to say in your defense. You tell him, omitting the details of her perverse question, you simply say she was slandering his holy name.
Sukuna moves, leaning his elbows on his knees. You care about his name? How lovely. So what is this slanderous thing his servants fought about?
Silence. You and the servant exchange uncomfortable looks. If there was one thing the both of you could agree on for the day, it was that repeating it in front of him was too vulgar. With that, Sukuna quickly grows bored with the situation. When he raises his hand, both of you flinch, expecting immediate punishment. However, nothing happens when he flicks his fingers. You're dismissed.
Quickly, both of you scurry away, leaving the throne room and going back to your jobs. The rest of the day is harrowing. The rumor spreads among the servants quickly, and you are the butt of every joke. You hear whispering and giggling behind your back, and everyone's stares linger on you as you go about your day. The culmination happens next morning, when the servants are getting ready in the bathroom, and the insults start getting more direct.
''Show us how you dance for Sukuna, why don't you?''
''Did you take both at the same time?''
''He didn't like you very much if you're still working as a servant.''
And then everyone goes quiet. When you turn around, you see Uraume at the door, their eyes fixed on you. ''Come.'', they say quietly, and leave without waiting for you to catch up. Well, it seems your punishment is due. You gladly leave the bathroom and follow them down the hall, anything is better than spending another second with the other servants. But now that you think of it, where is the servant that shares your punishment? Have you even seen her this morning? Or after the meeting with Sukuna at all?
You turn a couple corners, and stop at the end of the hallway. Uraume opens the doors to a room, and ushers you inside. What is this? It's furnished. Modestly, but... You open your mouth to ask a question, but you're quickly cut off.
''Make yourself at home.'', they say, and turn their attention to you.
''What about my things?'', you ask, looking around the room, then back to Uraume.
''You won't need them. Do you have good table manners?''
''Uhh.. yeah... I think.''
''Great. You dine with Master Sukuna tonight.''
''Huh!?''
''Your outfit is on the bed, be ready by sunset. I'll come to pick you up.''
Then the door closes and you're left alone in your new room. This isn't what a punishment should look like. Not when a beautiful kimono waits on your bed. Not when there's a barre fixed onto a mirrored wall, and there's a box on the ground, and when you open it, you find pointe shoes. Multiple pairs. He didn't know what size to get you. Ribbons, a sewing kit, glue, scissors... everything you need to break them in. Under that, a simple black leotard and a wrap skirt. By all means... this looks more like a reward.
You try everything on, find the perfect pair of shoes, and test them. It's not a big room, but there's enough space for you to practice with the bar. For the first time in so long, time passes quick. You're doing something you enjoy. It feels like in a blink of an eye, your shadow gets long on the wall opposing the window, and you have to get ready for dinner. You put the kimono on to the best of your ability - you don't have the opportunity to wear it often as a servant, being usually restrained in a uniform. And then reality hits you. Sukuna wants to have you over for dinner. This... is this a date? Unless he was planning to eat you, but you suppose he wouldn't have bought you shoes and furnished a room specially for you if that was the case... Come to think of it, what are you eating tonight?
Uraume knocks on the door, and takes a long look at you when you open. They fix your collar and nod, taking off down the hallway and expecting you to follow. They lead you to the dining room, vast and expensively furnished. You hear your heartbeat drumming in your ears. You only let your eyes explore for a second, before you fix them back to the ground and lower your head in Sukuna's presence.
''Your Highness.'', you bow in his direction.
''Master from now on.'', he says, and stands up to greet you. Master. You've only heard Uraume, and occasionally his pets, when he'd walk by with them, call him this by this... less formal title. He towers over you as his hand touches your shoulder, urging you to turn around. You follow obediently, making a circle and displaying your outfit.
He hums in approval. "Suits you much better than a cleaning uniform.", he says, and pulls your chair out for you to sit. You mutter a quiet thank you and sit down, already overwhelmed by the interaction.
He sits on the other side of the table, facing you. You can't bear the intense eye contact, and the silence that spreads across the room. Your eyes are fixed to your hands in your lap. ''Don't be shy now. I didn't invite you to sit there and be quiet. I reserve such duties for my pets.'', he breaks the silence.
''Master. Sharing a meal with you is a privilege, and I want to thank you for that. I'm not sure I'm deserving of it, though, and how my company may be of use to you.''. The kitchen servants scatter around the table, bringing food and pouring drinks. Various appetizers decorate the table, and only now do you notice you're hungry. You shyly pick the foods that catch your eye the most.
And your humility draws out a smile from him. ''You are an artist. And I am a man who takes great joy in consuming art.'', he says, and taps his finger against his glass, watching you pick. He's getting to know you, through your taste in food.
''I didn't know that about you.'', you say and look to your plate. You feel your hand shaking as you reach for the cutlery. You know Sukuna is judging every move. He was in your territory when you were dancing, now you're on his. And he will recognize the smallest mistake.
''Oh.'', his tone changes. It sounds like he didn't particularly like that comment. He finishes chewing. ''Did you take me for a savage?'', he narrows his eyes. More food is brought to the table, plates come and go quickly as the conversation progresses, and the tension grows.
You stutter, reading his volatile mood. ''I've only heard rumors.''.
He huffs in amusement again. ''I've heard rumors about you too.'', he says, leaning into the table. ''To be fair, I was asking around.''. So he took interest in you. ''They say you were the best there was, until you got captured.''
You chew slowly, taking his story in. He continues. ''They asked about you. Asked if I knew where you are. I said no.''. Sukuna watches as you grow visibly distressed by the mentions of your team. ''The best there is? What a wonderful prize. I'd rather keep you to myself.''. Oh. So that's what this is about. He gets off on the thought of owning you, the best there is, just for himself. You curse whoever told him about you. ''You showed me your worst, and mesmerized me. I want you to show me your best. Dance for me. Convince me you're worth my patronage.''.
The servants bring the main dish, and your head droops, stare fixed into the finely decorated red meat. You touch it with your cutlery, feeling it's texture. Sukuna eyes you as you cut a slice and bring it to your mouth, expectantly waiting for your reaction. You chew slowly, savoring the taste, but your expression is puzzled. ''What is this?'', you ask. And to make sure it doesn't sound like you're unhappy, you cut another slice. Truthfully, the food is incredible, but... you can't quite place the meat.
Sukuna bares his sharp teeth in a grin. ''Veal.''.
The conversation steers into a different direction then, and you quickly forget about how powerless you felt just moments ago. Sukuna is nothing like you've imagined him. He's right, you did take him for a savage. After all, everything you've heard about him pointed to a monster, who only took pleasure in wreaking havoc and destruction. Now, you find him to be eloquent, knowledgeable, and quite sophisticated. In a way, he appears similar to the other people you've met through your job. But way more powerful, and with it, way more intriguing.
Once again, time passes quickly, slipping through your fingers. The dinner is over, and you're facing Sukuna at the door. He seems to be pleased with your company, if you can read his face at all. ''Should I consider my offer accepted?'', he inquires. ''Everything will be provided for you. You just have to dance.''.
Well, it doesn't sound half bad, does it? You're not sure if the terms of the offers convinced you, or his presentation during the dinner. It might just be him. He made you feel you wouldn't be a jester, but a respected entertainer. And not for just anyone, but for a man as thoughtful and cultured as Sukuna proved himself to be. ''For you, gladly. Master.'', you smile at him. And he smiles back, taking your small hand into his, and planting a soft kiss to your fingers. You bow to him, wish him a good night, and you part ways.
Later, in your new bed, you find yourself replaying the interaction. Tracing his features in your memory. It's the first time you've had the chance to observe him, without fear of consequences. And he was beautiful. So elegant in the way he dressed and carried himself. Like a true king.
From then on, life in Sukuna's mansion is a game. Sukuna courts you in his dining room, feeding you delicacies from all around the world Foods that are hard and expensive to come by, that you've never heard of before. He courts you with the things he allows you to do, and the gifts he gives you. You dance and eat and walk around his garden and library. You don't dine with him every night, but when you do, rest assured that a new outfit is waiting for you in your room when you get back from practice.
And you court him on the floor, with feathery leaps that leave him on the edge of his seat, and dizzying turns that force him to focus all four eyes on you. You court him when you finish the variation by bowing before him, on one knee, a breath away from where he's sitting. And when you look up at him, he sees a lover rather than a personal dancer. Even though he's never touched you, or pressed his lips to yours.
There is love in the foods he picks for you specifically to enjoy, and there is love in the way you let him watch you practice. Even if you mess up, misstep and fall out of rhythm. Even if you stumble and fall in the most unceremonious of ways. There is vulnerability in letting him see you fail. It only happens a handful of times, but when you slip before him, you feel more naked than you would ever feel with your clothes off. And the relationship that the two of you foster grows intimate, despite the formal distance you keep from each other.
And that distance closes in, one day when Sukuna is there during a particularly nasty fall. You yelp when you hit the ground, and reach for your ankle, checking for injury. You only notice Sukuna when you feel his hand on your shoulder, and his brows furrowed in worry as his head looms over you. Your eyes meet for a moment, and you're hypnotized. Then you look away quickly, feeling your face heat up from the closeness.
''It's nothing.'', you say, and look down.
''Sure?'', Sukuna asks and stands up. You nod, and he offers you a pair of his hands, to help you stand. You take them, and he hoists you up effortlessly. And now you're face to face with his chest, and you're still holding his hands... ''That should to for today.'', he says, and when you look at him, there's a tender smile on his face. It sounds like a suggestion, but you've learned Sukuna is subtle about giving you orders. You nod, dust yourself off and untie your shoes.
That night, you recall his touch on your skin. Long fingernails ghosting over your shoulder, sending shivers through your whole body. You never expected Sukuna to have it in him to be gentle. But, that wouldn't be the first time he's broken the mold you thought he fit. And now in the cold of night, you find yourself craving him.
The next time you're invited to dinner, the tension is almost unbearable. ''Aren't you a sight to behold?'', he tells you when he welcomes you into the room. He always gives you compliments, but tonight they weigh heavy on your heart. You look across the table and curse every plate and glass that stands between the two of you. You look at him with quiet longing, and you think he knows. Because his smile is victorious, almost teasing. And when you accidentally hit his leg under the table, you start to credit it less to his size, and more to him deliberately crossing into your space. Subtlety is not a word you ever thought you'd attribute to Sukuna, but it seems this is the way you've established communication. You resist the instinct to remove your leg apologetically. So they stay touching.
Unfortunately, this little interaction slowly turns your brain into mush. By the last bite, your hand is trembling and you know you don't have the precision to pick up the last piece of food with your chopsticks. So you leave it on the plate, and wait for a moment when Sukuna is at least a little bit distracted, to attempt eating it again.
But such a thing doesn't happen. Today, he looks at you like you're the food on his plate. "Come on, eat it.", he nods in your direction. You can't read his expression, but it seems benevolent.
"I'm so full.", you make up an excuse.
"Just one strip.", he nudges your leg under the table, and you flinch, cheeks heating up.
"I.. I think I'll combust.", lies.
"I'll be offended.", Sukuna plays along with your game.
"Ah...", he wins, and you pick up your chopsticks with shaky hands. But as hard as you try, the little piece of food keeps escaping you, traveling through the plate.
"What makes you so flustered today?", he asks. "Is it the leg?". You blink at the plate, and feel your face going as red as the wine in your glass. "Come.", he waves his finger at you. You lean into the table, used to following his commands. And in no time, he is looming over your plate, one hand picking the last piece of your food with his chopsticks, and the other gently taking hold of your chin, nudging your mouth open. You part your lips obediently, and he places the bit onto your tongue, never breaking eye contact. His face is mere centimeters away from yours, observing you as you chew.
And the moment you've swallowed, and opened your mouth for air, he seizes you in a kiss. Slow, as he tastes your lips, and lets you adjust and catch up with him. He feels you go tense with the initial shock, then relax in his hold and kiss him back. His tongue brushes past your lips, and you think you'll sink right through your chair, and into the earth beneath the floor. The taste, the smell of him, so expensive and intoxicating. If this moment could last forever -
Foolish you. So much stress and tension, and you barely notice how quickly it passes. , how quickly his lips leave yours. His eyes scan your face, making sure you're alright, and then he's back in his chair. "There.", he says, "Have something to be flustered about."
That night, you think about his lips, slipping away from yours and moving to your neck, collarbones, shoulders. Not stopping until they've explored your whole body and touched your soul.
In the meantime, you practice your chosen choreography to perfection. And when you're standing in his throne room and awaiting the music, and your deciding performance to start, it's the first time in a while that you recognize feeling nervous. Uraume is there too, and his other disciples and guests. But he is the only one that matters. The only one your life depends on. Although the times when your life was truly on the line are long gone, Sukuna is still your patron, and now it's your turn to either satisfy or disappoint him.
The music starts, and the nervousness wanes as you start dancing. Sukuna's gaze is heavy, critical. He's seen you do this times and times already, but now it's final. Now, he's telling you, ''Bewitch me.''. Now, you're joining it together, one seamless show just for his enjoyment. And with every spin, you keep your eyes fixed on him. Enticing him with your movement, seducing him.
And for once, time passes quick for Sukuna as well. He finds himself lost in your dance. In your quick glances, in the way your body moves, contorts, withstands your weight on your tippy toes with so much grace and fluidity. You make it look easy. You nail the landing you failed so many times before his very eyes, perfectly, effortlessly. He almost wonders if you fell intentionally when he was watching you. And he's captivated. By the end of your performance, you earn his smile. You earn the clap of his hands, you even earn his standing ovation. The king himself, honoring you with the highest form of praise.
''It takes quite a performer, to entertain a crowd all by oneself.'', he comments later, over dinner. ''You've convinced me. You're worth keeping.''
''And when I can't dance anymore?'', you ask.
''You'll still be able to eat with me.'', he says.
At the doors, he bends down to kiss you again. You anticipate it, and accept it, kneading your hands through his hair. He asks if you're tired, and you shake your head no. He asks if you want to come with him. Yes, please yes, you've wanted to for so long. You almost thought he'd never ask. Again, his face lights up in a victorious smile.
He walks you through the halls, to his quarters of the mansion. Vast, and decorated with various works of art. They hang on the wall, or stand on the cupboards in forms of statues of various sizes. Sukuna likes to collect things, if that wasn't evident by your presence in the mansion.
''You're dragging behind. Did you have a change of heart?'', he asks, and extends his hand towards you. You step closer, and he wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer. You're standing at the doors of his bedroom.
''I was just admiring the interior.'', you smile at him, and take it upon yourself to cross the doorstep. His bedroom overlooks the garden, through a tall set of windows, little plants sitting on his windowsill. And his bed is massive. You think it could fit four people of your size. But then again, Sukuna is not a normal sized person. Your hand finds the mattress, testing it's sturdiness. And when you turn around, he's right behind you. Towering over you, and forcing you to look up at him, like the king he is. But you're not scared. You have no reason to be.
''Lay down.'', he orders, but his voice doesn't sound stern. Still, you obey, climbing into the bed. And he follows, letting you ease into the pillows only for a moment, before he settles above you, urging your legs apart. You welcome him, finally feeling the closeness you've been craving for so long. His body, big enough to enclose you completely under him, so carefully pressed against yours. Light enough not to hurt, but heavy enough to establish power. To give you what you want, what you've craved for a very long time.
He never lets you forget whose grasp you're in. He folds your smaller body with ease, adjusting you to his liking. And you let him, trusting him with your body and pleasure. He takes you gently, slowly, making sure you're comfortable in the process. You feel so full of him, but it's not enough, not enough until all of your senses are overwhelmed with him. You feel up his muscled arms and back, wrap around him, pull him closer with every stroke, every swipe of his lips against yours. Sukuna draws the moans out of you with practiced thrust of his hips, hitting spots inside you you didn't know existed. In no time you're seeing stars - his four eyes, never leaving yours as you come apart.
And Sukuna is stoic for the most part, but by the end of it, even he is loosing his composure. Hungry moans slip past his lips, his brows furrowing as he concentrates, trying not to let out too soon. You encourage him, babbling sweet nonsense into his ear. This flustered Sukuna, completely engulfed in the chase of his own pleasure, is as close as you've come to seeing a god. Moments later, his hips still, and you feel his muscles tense as he reaches completion, deep grunts filling your ears like the sweetest music.
You lay in his embrace, and trace your fingertips over his tattoos. Your stare is fixed on him, as he tells you various anecdotes from his long lifetime. You enjoy the opportunity to admire his beauty from up close. His eyes, so unusually benevolent as they stare outside the window and turn to you from time to time, to check if you're awake. The curve of his nose, the glimpses of his sharp teeth, his strong, masculine jawline. He is an art piece on his own.
After a while, he notices you struggling to stay awake. His hand on the back of your head nudges you to lay on his chest. He whispers you a good night, and runs his hand through your hair as you drift off. It's been a long day you've dedicated entirely to him, so he finds you worthy of this special treatment. After all, it isn't often that someone claims the title of both Sukuna's personal dancer and his lover, much less in the same day.
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cuubism · 2 months
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more physical therapy au
--
Dream comes to his next physical therapy appointment marginally--marginally--less apprehensive than before. When he'd first gone, he'd expected to be told he was being melodramatic. That he should just be grateful that the surgery was successful and he has some functioning. That he should just give up on his art, that it didn't matter, that it was hopeless.
He doesn't know why he thought that. It's been hard to have a charitable view of people, lately.
But Hob wasn't like what he feared. Hob was... kind. To him.
So he goes back.
He has, in fact, been doing the exercises that Hob gave him. It is not as though he has much else to do with his time. Other than setting up his new flat, where he now lives after fleeing what had once been his home. Even a few months later, the place is fairly... minimalist. Which is not Dream's style. But he'd left with little more than his art portfolio and the clothes he was wearing, deciding that it wasn't worth going back, and he hasn't had the energy to replace anything since.
Or the two functioning arms required to move things.
His flat is depressing enough that even the physical therapy office feels warm and welcoming by comparison. Hob gives him a big smile as he comes in. It's pathetic that it makes his heart flutter.
He goes over to Hob, setting the folder he brought on the table.
"You look cheerful," Hob notes. Dream highly, highly doubts that. But he is perhaps slightly less morose than last time. Nevertheless, he finds Hob's optimism... somewhat cheering. Normally, he would find such a thing annoying. But there is something very steady and reassuring about Hob. Not much in Dream's life has felt steady in some time.
"I have tried finger painting," Dream tells him. He takes the piece out of the folder and shows it to Hob.
It had been interesting, at least. Distracted him for a moment. Made him think about the way children make art, before becoming mired in theory and technique.
He had considered bringing one of his usual pieces to demonstrate to Hob what he's meant to be able to do, in case that would be helpful, but it's still painful to look at them.
Hob takes the painting and stares at it with wide eyes. "How is this actually good?"
Dream should probably be offended by his incredulity but instead he just finds it amusing. "I had lots of time to spend."
He has, once again, painted a bunch of cats, all different colors, cluttering the page. It's simple, and lets him avoid thinking about his more conceptual pieces he hasn't been able to work on.
"Wow," Hob says, propping the painting carefully against the wall by his computer. "Okay. Good work going above and beyond on the instructions, Dream."
That praise alone shouldn't make something in his chest start glowing. But it does.
"It did not hurt... much," he says tentatively, before Hob can ask. "However, with a brush..."
It is incredibly frustrating. It's like his body continually wishes to betray him. He's lost his home and everything he owns and now he cannot even have his art.
"Give it some time," Hob says, reasonably. He is much more patient, and optimistic, than Dream.
He makes Dream draw and write again. It's... perhaps marginally easier after the exercises Hob had given him. Still, he finds himself getting frustrated by the weakness of his grip. And the more frustrated he gets, the tighter he grips the pencil. He knows he shouldn't. But.
"Lighter," Hob tells him, and Dream glares at him. Hob raises his hands. "Not telling you how to do your art. Just telling you how not to hurt your hand."
Dream bites down on his annoyance, but loosens his grip.
He doesn't see very much progress, but Hob seems satisfied. He makes Dream run through some other strengthening exercises, which... don't hurt as much as Dream was expecting them to. He'd expected that this whole process would be nothing but gritting his teeth through agonizing pain, to minimal results. Perhaps Death is right, and he should be less pessimistic.
In any case, Hob seems proud of him at the end. Even if Dream doesn't think he's done anything to be proud of.
But he does leave, perhaps, slightly more hopeful than he entered. And he wants to come back. At least to see Hob again.
~~
Hob doesn't know if it's patronizing to be proud of Dream, but he is. Over the last few sessions, his grip has improved a lot. Dream doesn't seem to see it, but that's alright. Hob does. He's been keeping all of Dream's drawings. They are getting better.
Hob is pretty good at optimism. But even so, it somehow hadn't occurred to him that quiet and morose wasn't Dream's natural state. That is until he sees the joy that lights up in him the first time he's able to draw a cat without his hand shaking. Dream smiles so wide, like he isn't even aware Hob is still watching him, and Hob realizes that there is lightness to him. It's just been buried down.
The time after that, Dream even brings some of his old art to show. Hob's been dying to see it for ages, but hasn't pressed. And Dream's art is gorgeous. Hob can understand, now, why he'd been dissatisfied with those first cats he'd drawn, no matter how charming Hob had found them. His big pieces are so finely detailed, so precise. It's... possibly going to take a bit more time to get him back to that than Hob had thought. But he's determined.
But Dream seems happy to be sharing his art, doesn't fold in on himself this time just to mention it. He talks with enthusiasm about his process, the most words Hob's heard him say in... well, ever. Hob tells him that he's made enough progress to pick up painting--with brush, not fingers--again if he wants, but not to beat himself up if it doesn't look the same as his old ones. And for once, it seems like Dream actually accepts the instruction not to berate himself.
All of this is, most certainly, the reason Hob does the insane thing he does next.
He's organizing his records, having already walked Dream out, when he hears raised voices from out on the walkway. The front door is still open a crack, he realizes, so the sound carries.
"Come on, you're overreacting," says an unfamiliar, male voice. "I said I won't do it again, didn't I?"
"Do not," Dream replies, voice anxious, but determined, "follow me."
"Well if you'd just pick up your phone--"
Hob steps outside. An unfamiliar man--the ex-boyfriend, Hob assumes, he doesn't know his name, hasn't asked, doesn't care--has Dream cornered in the doorway. His posture doesn't immediately scream rage or aggression, which is more unnerving rather than less, considering this is the same person who'd snapped and broken Dream's hand.
And Dream looks scared. Under the mask of stoicism he likes to wear. Any cheer or hope he'd gained from today's session has evaporated, and he looks like he did before, when he'd first come to Hob's office, curled in on himself. It breaks Hob's heart. And makes him angry.
"Stop being selfish and just--" the ex-boyfriend continues. Hob means to cut in and diffuse the situation. Tell him to leave in a reasonably professional manner.
Instead he punches him in the face.
Ex-boyfriend's nose goes crunch in an extremely satisfying way, and he reels back with a shriek, hands going to his face. Dream startles back, hands clutched around his art portfolio.
"What the FUCK!" yells ex-boyfriend, voice nasally from the blood running down his face. "You can't just-- this is assault! I'll call the cops!"
Oh he wants to go there, does he? "You wanna talk about assault?" Hob says, voice rising in volume. Dream edges behind him, though Hob's not sure he's fully aware he's doing so. "You want to get police involved, that's really what you want?"
Ex-boyfriend looks from Hob to Dream and back, hesitating. That's fucking right, Hob thinks. Not so easy to kick someone around when there's consequences, huh?
It helps that Hob is visibly stronger than Dream, and spends all day physically moving people around. If ex-boyfriend tries anything he's going to get put on the ground.
Finally he retreats, though with a look of rage towards Hob. Once he's gone, Dream finally seems to relax, some of the tension easing from his shoulders.
"You did not need to," he murmurs.
Hob shakes his head. "No one gets to come and threaten you here. Particularly not that dickhead."
Dream huffs a small laugh. Then he picks up Hob's hand, studying it. Hob winces. It's certainly going to bruise.
"Now you will need physical therapy," Dream says, lips twitching. Hob's glad for the humor in his voice.
Hob laughs. "Worth it."
"No one has..." Dream starts, slowly, "done something like that. For me."
It hurts, to think that no one's stood up for him. Or even let him know that someone should stand up for him.
"If he comes back I'll do it again," Hob says, and gets a tentative smile from Dream.
Then asks, "Does he know where you live?"
Dream frowns. "I do not think so."
"Want me to walk you home?"
He doubts Dream's ex-boyfriend will come back to the office now that he knows Hob's willing to deck him, but that doesn't mean he won't try to corner Dream elsewhere.
Dream deliberates, then says, "Would you?"
"'Course, love. Just let me lock the place up."
He doesn't realize what he's said until he's already turned back to lock the door. Shit. Today has already gone so far beyond what he's supposed to do as Dream's physical therapist, and now...
In the end, Dream doesn't call him out on it. But he does stick close to Hob's side as they walk, and occasionally when Hob looks over at him, he catches a tiny smile on his face.
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lineli225 · 1 month
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Tomura Shigaraki 's abuse and neglect under All for One
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I've decided to make this post due to the fact AFO's abuse towards Tomura is often ignored and even denied, so I'll be bringing a collection of scenes that prove he was being severally neglected during the 15 years he lived with AFO
1- Malnourishment and Underweight
At the beginning of the story Tomura used to be very skinny, his spine visible, very accentuated collar bones.
We can't see if his ribcages are exposed too since he's always dressed, but we can tell he is abnormally skinny and thin.
Some theorize AFO's purposefully keeps him in this state so he's more weak and frail similar to Yoichi. Or so it adds to his tiredness and numbness.
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He's also been shown randomly struggling before (it could've been the aftershock of Stain attack, i don't know)
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2- Lack of hygiene
He literally lives in pure filth, trash bags, old soda cans, paper, boxes, packages of food that seems ordered other than homemade, it lingers all over his floor, he is clearly a hoarder
It's completely different of the kept and clean bar, and now before you say "That's Tomura's responsibility, he's an adult he should clean it himself!" just think for a minute, if you had a son, that you see as your heir, and bets on their future so much,If you truly cared about them and saw they felt into a hoarder mindset, wouldn't you at least help?
Why not even Kurogiri cleans if Tomura was being cared by him? This clearly is intentional neglect, specially to keep his mood constantly down.
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3 - His teeth
Tomura canonically has crooked teeth (compare his teeth to the other's in the jump festa art), cavities or at least what looks like plaques or dirt all over his teeth.
For someone raised by someone as filthy rich as AFO, he should've had access to dental care
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4- Shaggy hair
His hair looks un-brushed, shaggy and dirty, which had no reason for before MVA when he became homeless, so why even at the start? How long has he taken a bath or a shower?
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Look at the blatant difference in this scene after he showered at the PLF mansion
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5- Unkept, ragged and broken nails
despite his hands also being very skinny, his nails are also all rough and broken Now, I know Tomura isn't a kid to have someone cut his nails for him, but this implies he was never teached how to take care for himself.
Besides of course his clear symptoms of depression and suicidal idealism, which, are very obvious, All for One IS neglecting Tomura by keeping him in that state /knowing/ he isn't being capable of taking care of himself.
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6- His bedroom
First of all: No windows
Second, notice how empty it used to be, he had nothing but a bed and a desk, but right as he committed his first murder he started to receive toys, AFO is lovebombing and manipulating him to kill more
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7- The obvious neglect to his pain
Notice how every time Tomura panics or is even wounded, he is just ignored and left on the floor bleeding out, puking or writhing.
Which uh- it isn't normal to watch your kid writhe in the floor while smiling and monologuing
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8- 24/7 Surveillance and lack of privacy
There are cameras everywhere, AFO spends most of the time watching Tomura, even in his own bedroom, and even talks to him, Tomura probably hasn't had any privacy ever since he was 5
Which is a sign of abuse and control
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His entire childhood from 5 to 20 is often relatable for people who grew in cult like environments, and homeschooled children who grew under controlling parents, despite the abuse not being as "obvious" since AFO never directly physically hurt him, the neglect and psychological torture is still there, that and more all the manipulation, gaslighting and grooming (think of Mother Gothel from Tangled as an example of this type of abuser)
By the way, talking about it
9- Gaslighting
"but wasn't /you/ who desired my power?"
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The entire body possession plot is a clear evidence AFO never saw Tomura as anything other than a toy to play with, the same way he saw Yoichi, but so many people say the possession was a retcon because "early afo cleared saw him as his heir, he even said it's all for him!"
Well, argue with the literal "he's the next me", while he is.... weirdly caressing the screen while he watches his kid with no privacy- 100% creep behavior
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10- AFO's bizzare behavior towards Tomura
The way All for One's hands are often shown caressing him or encasing him somehow, which yeah, it's part of the symbology of Tomura's character (hands that can both hurt and save)
But knowing AFO represents /hurt/ and, you know, i'ts kinda weird to caress the kid you kidnaped off the streets like that-
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Cuz yes! Picking kids from the street even if they are orphan is illegal!! You should take them to a police station instead :D
Tomura was KIDNAPED by AFO, not saved.
11- Proof Tomura doesn't /feel/ saved
During his fight against Bakugou, when he sees him being helped, besides being "broken" he starts to spiral on "why no one saved me even before i was broken?"
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The visual including the granny that ignored him on the streets
AFO broke him.
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He recurrently thinks back to when he was on the streets, even though he was already traumatized, and had already killed his family, he still had /hope/ he ADMITS he believes he could've been different if it wasn't for AFO
If AFO had truly saved him,he wouldn't think like this
12- AFO gifting Tomura the corpses of his family to intentionally keep him nauseated, uncomfortable and traumatized, so he never heals
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Besides their weird placements- On a kid. the gangster's hands being in his chest...
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13-AFO's intentional desire for Tomura's discomfort
If this entire thread didn't make it obvious already, All for One benefits of Tomura's tiredness, ill feelings, nausea, depression and suicidal mindset, and over all physical and psychological discomfort
This ensures he's submissive to his manipulations and orders, keep him feeling hatred and anger due to constant overwhelming feelings and makes it harder for him to think of why AFO does all of it at all.
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I could go even deeper than this about it, but i've reached thread limit and am lazy, so I hope you enjoyed this thread!
Thank you for reading
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k2ntoss · 2 months
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this is from @millyhelp 's ask from the prompts thingy so babe, i hope you enjoy this!!! PLUS THIS IS QUALITY OVER ANYTHING ELSE, i should be asleep by now bc i have to take a flight tomorrow at 6am buuuuut here we are :3
milly when i catch you milly (i have been thinking about THIS since i read your request and i'm literally vibrating here in a level i cannot describe) i just i don't know what i'm doing but i hope you know i'm here sitting while thinking about jason AT WORK
when they murmur pure filth into your ear while they're touching you + smirking into a kiss/against your skin when you whimper at their touch + "you're in no position to tease baby, remember that."
jason can say he hates attending bruce's galas, they're boring and full of people he dislikes but having you as his partner makes it worth the time he spends there. the way he's able to admire you in those pretty long night dresses, your make up and hair done in a way you'd only look prettier to his eyes, it was definetely his favorite part of being out in a night he rather spend at home cuddling with you.
but what jason hates more of bruce's galas is the fact that he isn't able to be too touchy with you when you're by his side and yeah, he also hates the way you take advantage of that because such a loving girlfriend would enjoy the art of torture by teasing him all night long. he stares as you stand right next to him, your hand holding his arm as he speaks to someone and you stroke his forearm without paying much mind to anything else, jason feels your touch a bit more than what he should and it only drives him insane when it comes together with the way you stare up at him as he speaks, if only he could push you to your knees and get you to look up at him while you gag around his cock...
"sweetheart, i'm gonna go get a drink, i'll be right back" you say with a small smile, your hand suddenly bringing him back from his thoughts when you subtly graze his chest with your fingertips, making a soft trail to his stomach and he only nods, his lips parted and his mind running wild once again.
you make your way to the expensive bar, thinking about any tasty drink that will help you feel more comfortable around all the rich and empty individuals around the room so as soon as you're able to ask for a drink the bartender gives you what could have been seen as a gentle smile but truth be told, jason knew better and yeah, he was looking from where you left him because there's no way he'd let his girlfriend all alone and unprotected.
he's able to see the man hand you a glass filled with clear liquor and he holds himself to interrupt you or to make you uncomfortable, he knows you don't try to make any deep conversation with that guy but he, on the other hand leans against the bar and talks to you with a wide grin almost as if he thought he made a great and succesful attempt on getting your attention and that's enough to make him smirk proudly, jason knows he's the only one that knows how to get your attention in a way you do enjoy it.
what's unexpected for him comes right after you notice his eyes on your back and look at him from over your shoulder, giving him a soft smile before turning back to actually chuckle to something that guy was telling you and now, that's weird because he swears that right before you looked back at him you seemed to be really bored about anything you were hearing. jason is able to see, still from across the room how you sit on one of those high stools, the slit of your dress letting your thigh a little more exposed than before and the way you lean forward allows you to be a bit closer to a man that wasn't him.
he has no idea where he should look, your waist seems to call him just so he can place his hand over it and squeeze it in a possessive way, your legs look lile he could make them wrap around his hips as he pounds into you and he has no idea what's gotten into him, it's a mix of jealousy because someone else has your attention and the way your body looks so good it makes jason want to devour you whole.
his need grows worse when you switch from the short vodka and sprite glass to a tall one with whisky and the way you mindlessly stroke the side of it with your fingertips has him almost growling and he decides it's been already enough when the bartender reaches to the pocket of his black blazer and slides his phone over the bar, clearly jason doesn't know that you're just about to type in the phone number of one of your friends that needed a bartender for the new bar he wanted to open and he clearly wasn't even thinking about it, instead he just allowed himself to walk his way until he reached your side, leaning in and pressing a lingering kiss to your shoulder when he stood next to you "thought you were going to come back, princess" he says and there's a ever so slight tint of jealousy on his words.
"oh yeah, i got a little distracted here" you start before taking a short sip from your glass just to offer him an innocent smile "do you remember that bar a friend of mine wanted to open? i was telling him they wanted a bartender and i was about to give him leo's number" and he nodded, the bartender suddenly not looking so flirty with you when your big ass boyfriend was looking at him as if he was about to rip his head off his shoulders.
"yeah? think i have his card so no need to bother," jason tells you, his hand going into his pocket to reach for the nice wallet he used to keep cards and some other important stuff, taking out what he wanted and sliding the card across the bar "here. give them a call but i think they already found someone." he says with a subtle scowl before looking back at you. and as soon as his eyes met yours realization fell upon your boyfriend, that glint of pure mischief and joyful mockery was all he needed to know that this was just another part of your tease game.
"think we can talk somewhere else, baby?" he asks as he leans in to whisper into your ear "don't you think i don't know what you're doing, love." then jason mutters before leaving a soft kiss on your temple as his hand snakes over your side to hold your waist and pull you out of the stool just to walk you out of the room filled with people. it was a short walk across a few hallways before he opened a door that led to a bathroom, the marble counter and the tall roof another proof of how expensive the place was but you had not so much time to actually take in every other detail of the nice bathroom because you felt now both of jason's hands holding your hips and walking you until you were in front of the mirror.
"jay? what's that you need to tell me?" you ask him in a soft tone, sounding innocent as your boyfriend towered over you, his hands now resting on your hips as he looked at you through your reflection.
"how do you manage to look so heavenly, ma?" he sounds really sweet, unbothered as if your efforts weren't enough to make him act feral and that was strange to say the least "this is a good thing about this stupid events, being able to admire my girl looking so good." and still there's still a slight tint of possessiveness slipping into his words
"i don't know what you're talking about, baby" you'd answer, cheeks red and a sweet giggle escaping your lips as your own hands rest over his and anyone could see and say that this was just another wholesome moment between a young couple in love but jason had other plans in mind "but i think we're missing the whole thing"
your word fall on deaf ears when his hands start to stroke your hips, the silky and thin fabric allows jason to feel your bare skin right under your dress and it draws a deep hum out of his throat at the same time he leans to kiss that spot between your shoulder and neck "you know what i don't like about this galas? the fact that every other idiot is able to see my girl looking so damn good and what's worse, is that some of them think they have a chance with you."
his hands lower until you feel how the fabric slides upwards, causing you to shiver when jason's fingers caress your thigh under the slit of the dress while he keeps his gaze on yours through the mirror. he loves the way you look with him, how your body reacts to his every touch and yeah, anyone could say that jason todd is a bit possessive but you wouldn't blame him. the possessiveness on his touch came alomg with pure need, not only lust or dominance but with extreme adoration because you were the most precious thing on his life and he wasn't up to let go of you. not now, not ever.
"i don't know what you're talking about..." this time there's a small grin pulling at the edges of your lips, you do know what he's talking about and honestly, you adore when he wants to claim your attention from himself "but i was having a nice time chatting with my new friend" that part sets off a new jolt of jealousy and also it breaks the already thin string of patience jason has when it comes to your teasing.
"a nice time... were you? i think that you know exactly what i'm talking about, angel," jason utters right as his lips brush against the skin of your neck, he presses a lingering and firm kiss before his hand squeezes your thigh "all that mischief in your pretty eyes, the way you walk making your dress move in a way it only hugs your curves, do you think i can't see it?"
the way his voice grows deeper indicates what he has in mind and that's what you've been trying to get by touching him and putting a subtle show just for your boyfriend to grow insane with need. his gaze parts from your eyes to follow the path his own hands make as he starts to pull up the fabric of your dress, lips making a trail of short kisses that make you close your eyes and let your head drop to give him more room.
"you love attention, that much i can tell," he murmurs into your ear and as soon as he sees how you try to reach for him he shakes his head "no. hands on the counter and keep them there, be a good girl and do as you're told." he says, the comand on his tone sets you in automatic, pressing your hands against the black marble and seeing you being so obedient makes jason grin wickedly.
he had you right where he wanted you.
there's a low and rumbling chuckle that escapes him as soon as he is able to touch your bare hip, feeling proud of the fact that he knew you wouldn't be wearing any underwear with the silky dress that you were using. he loves that, being able to slide his hands under your clothes to touch you and feel you shiver before you start to grind against his fingers without a second thought. the feeling of knowing how much you wanted him and how good he was able to make you feel, it was only him that could do so.
"what a pretty surprise," jason says, one of his hands holding part of your dress up over your waist as the other one went to grip at your ass before letting a harsh slap fall over it that drags a soft yelp out of you "aren't you such a good girl? wearing anything underneath your dress to allow me to have easy access to this pretty pussy of yours" he says in a deep tone as his hand moves again, this time running over your inner thigh to squeeze it.
"jay... anyone could come in..." your words are soft, almost a whisper as jason's hand makes its way a bit further until he's able to graze your clit with his fingertips, making you press your lips in a fine line to hold back the soft moan that forms on your throat as you try to wiggle your hips to get a little more of his touch.
"no one is gonna come in, ma" he whispers into your ear, his arm now around your waist to hold the fabric in place as well as to prevent you from moving "now be a good little doll and spread your legs for me." jason says right before he bites your earlobe softly.
and you do as he says, allowing him to slip his fingers over your cunt in a slow and torturing pace, you can feel the rough skin and the way he seems to know exactly how to touch you to get you wet without doing so much. he keeps that touch, fingers teasingly tapping on your slit before he playfully spreads your lips as he kisses your shoulder with a shit eating smirk whenever you whimper and try to buck your hips to get him to touch you more.
"you don't like it when i tease you like this, baby? you seemed to be having so much fun when you were doing the same to me," he almost grunts as his hand pulls away from you, the pout on your lips and how you seem to wanna cry makes him laugh "you had no trouble to look up at me with those pretty 'fuck me' eyes you use when you're choking on my cock like a little whore."
he needs no other thing really to make you moan, jason knows what to do to get you going and he loves to start by teasing you. leaning in to whisper his every word to your ears and calling you all sort of names, his hands holding your body as he presses himself against your ass, letting you feel his hard cock though the fabric of his dressing pants.
"i wasn't doing that!" you protest, lying to him right to his face just to get what you wanted. pushing his buttons and jason would be lying if he said he wasn't enjoying this little game.
"oh weren't you now? you know damn well you were teasing me, since we arrived you can't stop swaying your pretty ass to make me drag you away just so i can pin you down to fuck you." he says, the same low tone as he talks and his hand moves, going up and hovering over your chest and throat until he reaches your face to hold your cheeks briefly, then letting go to slip his thumb between your lips "such a needy little thing, begging to be used without an ounce of shame like the slut she is"
a muffled moan escapes you, eyes closed shut when jason pushes his digit against your tongue and moves it back and forth as you suck it obediently but he stops and pulls away when he feels you rock your hips against him, your ass rubbing his bulge and making him groan right about to give up the small punishment just to bury himself deep inside you.
"stop moving. you're in no position to tease baby, remember that." jason says, this time his voice sounds a little more stern and his gaze is fixed back on yours "you want it so bad, don't you? want me to use you right here like a little toy for me to abuse whenever and wherever i want."
his hand goes back to your thighs, this time he holds one and squeezes it in a motion that made you lift your leg, allowing jason to make you bend it and hold yourself with your knee pressed to the counter. keeping you spread like that for him he lets a playful pat fall right between your legs, causing you to whimper in need, wanting to grind on his dick until he couldn't resist the urge to actually fuck your needy hole.
"c'mon... i really need you, jay" you moan as soon as his fingers stroke again your cunt, slipping between your folds he smirks when your slick covers his digits creating soft wet sounds as he traces circles on your clit before doing the same around your entrance "need you to fuck me, please, ruin me."
"don't think you deserve so, baby," he coos you mockingly, his middle finger pushing teasingly against you but not sliding in to allow to feel him into you "why don't you pull your dress down, mhm? let me see those pretty tits of yours, put on a show for me."
it makes you shiver, the idea of exposing yourself for him as he's practically punishing you is something new because jason has never asked you to do so while keeping your clothes on, lets not say in a public space but it was a turn on when he looked down at you with predatory eyes as you spilled your breasts out of your dress, the thin straps now hanging loose on your arms as he pressed his chest to your back and made a thrusting motion against your ass.
"the things you'd do for me to stretch your pussy, to be fucked dumb until you are nothing but a cock-drunk slut" he growls against your ear and the whiny moan you let out makes him grin widely as he kisses and nibbles at the nape of your neck "here, hold your dress for me, sweetheart"
and he nods when your hands hold now your dress, his hands guiding you to make you bend slightly. jason looks hungrily at your exposed body, the way you look so vulnerable when he took advantage of it made it so hard to resist his urges but he knew that as soon as you both arrived home he'd be able to fuck you into a mindless puddle.
"you adore doing this, don't ya, ma?" he asks, one of his hands slides down your back. caressing your spine and to your ass until he reaches your core, a sharp slap falls right there and the whine you let out only fuels jason "teasing me just so you can get attention, you love to get me jealous just for me to end up letting you know how i'm the only one that will make you feel so good"
his fingers are stroking you again but this time he isn't as delicate or slow as before, his hand grinds against your cunt and he pinches your clit a few times to make you moan even louder. the wet sounds his palm makes while he plays with your slick are only hushed by your whimpers, his other hand now groping your breasts.
"it's adorable how you try to get me to use you just to be edged, to be teased like every dirty slut deserves" jason growls behind your ear and this time he pushes two fingers inside you, moving them at a fast pace without really paying mind to the way your legs tremble because he is also teasing your nipples "all of this effort just to get your pussy played with, not even getting to feel my cock inside your greedy cunt."
"jay please... don't do this to me" you cry, the torture continues because jason touches your sweet spot a few times by curling his fingers but stops when you clench around him, trying to move and fuck yourself with his fingers but the gaze he gives you is enough to stop it.
"i'm sorry, princess, that's all you'll get now" jason whispers, a satisfied smirk and a kiss on your temple as he takes his fingers out of you before stepping back "you should fix your dress again, baby, you can't go out with it all pulled up."
that's what you got, jason is now looking at your reflex as he leans back against a wall and he licks his fingers clean before giving you a lovely smile.
maybe, just maybe, you were in no position to tease after all.
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seonghwaddict · 9 months
Text
say my name — song mingi
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request by anon. "This is my first request to anyone ever so forgive me if this is..idk incoherent 😭. But lately I've been thinking about a short smut story where the reader (fem) being a backup dancer for ATEEZ and Mingi catching feelings for her over time and then end up fucking in the dressing room and maybe one of the members walks in idk have fun with it. 🤭"
idol!song mingi x backup dancer!reader. genre. smut. warnings. smut below the cut, explicit sexual content minors dni, fingering, some dirty talk, use of petnames (doll, baby), slight dom/sub dynamics, dom!mingi, swearing, intentional lowercase. please let me know if i missed anything. wc. 1.2k.
lilo's notes. i'm back!! this is the first request i've received, hopefully i did it justice. by the time i finished writing i forgot that anonie asked it it's possible for another member to walk in and join.... sorry about that. but anyways, i hope you all enjoyed this!!
listening to. perceive by doma cyno.
masterlist
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“fuck, baby,” a hand swiped through your folds, gathering the almost embarrassing amount of arousal from your core. “you’re so wet.”
you like to think your day started off like every other day. you woke up at 7 am, ate breakfast, got ready for the day and arrived at kq two hours later. you went through some choreographies with the other backup dancers until 4 pm, left to run some errands, and then returned to practice some more on your own.
since your first day at the company only a few months ago, you’d always take a few hours after your shift to perfect your art more than you already have. sometimes you’d spend those hours with the other dancers who showed up for the same reason, but surprisingly, a lot of the time it was mingi who found himself practising his group’s or his own choreography alongside you.
the first few times felt awkward, to say the least.
you yourself weren’t really one to strike up conversations with random people, and considering he was part of the group you had to dance for, you were afraid of slipping up and losing your job. but, eventually, he talked to you. after that, things were easier—you’d joke around, take breaks to go eat something, help each other and sometimes even stop what you were working on to choreograph something together; just the two of you.
it was only a month or two later that you caught yourself looking at him in a less than friendly but rather heated way… and much to your surprise, you slowly started noticing his own lustful glances—lips red from biting them and hooded eyes tracking your every movement. but, alas, you weren’t one for first moves.
considering all of this, you weren’t surprised at the position you were currently in; on the floor of the practice room, legs hooked around his as you sat between them, mingi’s lips against the side of your neck, one arm around your waist and the other with his hand inside your panties (your shorts had been discarded long ago, along with his shirt) as he faced you to lthe mirror, forcing you to watch his every movement.
he swiped his middle finger through your folds, gathering some arousal and then slowly circling your swollen clit. a breathy whimper escaped your lips as you threw your head back on his shoulder. the combined sensation of his finger around your nub and his lips kissing and sucking on the sensitive skin of your neck sent another wave of wetness gushing out of you.
“eyes on the mirror, doll,” he moved his head up to whisper right into your ear with that husky voice of his, gently biting down on your earlobe. he removed his hand from your pussy for a moment, letting your legs down to slip your panties off before hooking them over his thighs again. you were practically dripping as he exposed you. “i want you to see what i’m doing, watch how your beautiful little body reacts to me.”
reluctantly, you nodded and pulled yourself off his shoulder, eyes zeroing in on the arousal smeared between your thighs. a moan escaped your lips as he gave your clit a particularly firm tug, his ring and middle finger pressed against the skin on either side of it and pinching gently. you tried holding back your following moans, but the quiver of your thighs gave you away. though, you felt better knowing you weren’t the only enjoying this so much, his erection strained against his pants and poked at your ass. 
his movements against your heat were slow but precise, eliciting pretty little whimpers and moans from you. the hand wrapped around the front of your waist moved up, featherlight touches leaving a trail of goosebumps behind as he gently brushes his fingers over the fabric of your bra. then he nudge the straps down your shoulder and let the bra cups fall, his hand immediately going to tweak at your nipples. 
“f-fuck…” you cursed quietly, trying your best to stop your eyes from fluttering shirt from all the pleasure and keep your eyes on the mirror as he asked.
two of his large fingers circled your entrance, massaging it before slowly pushing in. jaw slack at the stinging stretch, you watched as they disappeared into your vagina, breath stuttering when he curved them just enough to brush against the right spot. your hand snaked it’s way behind his head, tugging on his hair gently.
“oh, look, doll,” you heard him groan behind you, feeling his smirk against your neck, “look at how well you take my fingers…”
and with that he slowly began pumping his fingers in and out of you, digits firmly pressing against the spongey spot inside you each time, increasing his speed more and more as his thumb continue circling your clit. he watched your face in the mirror, analysing each twitch of your muscles and each flutter of your lashes to perfectly adjust his movements. in any other context, you perhaps would’ve appreciated how perceptive he was. but right now you wanted nothing more than to savour the feeling of his fingers, anticipating how his cock would feel in you. 
before you knew it, the familiar knot of an orgasm began tightening in your abdomen, your body squirming.
“shit, mingi…” his name tumbled out of your mouth in a drawl and his movement stopped for a moment.l before he continued at a more rigorous pace. you could’ve sworn you felt his erection twitch behind you. 
“say that again,” he growled, “say my name.”
the rough scratch of his voice made you impossibly wetter as you obeyed quickly. “mingi, o-oh…”
after that it didn’t take much longer for you to snap, coming down hard on his fingers, muscles jerking and back arching as his hand clamped over your mouth to muffle your noises.
“keep it down, baby, someone might walk in and see you at my mercy.”
he pulled his fingers out of you and caressed your thighs. it didn’t take to long for you to calm down from your high, chest heaving with deep breaths as he whispered praises in your ear. despite the fact you just had an orgasm, you knew you still wanted more.
“i-i need… i need you,” you tried, face flushed as you hinted the best you could.
“hm?” he chuckled. “and what exactly do you need of me?”
with a huff, you grinded yourself back against him, against his cock, but he moved his hands to grip your hips firmly and stop you. 
“that won’t do,” he shook his head. “i want you to use your words, doll. can you do that for me, baby?”
a moment of silence passed between you. it was awkward or anything, a teasing grin on his face as he looked you in the eyes through the mirror, your brows furrowed before you sighed.
“god, mingi, i need your cock in me.”
he grinned, hands tugging your shirt and bra off before sitting back on his knees and turning you around. mingi leaned over you, cupping your chin before kissing you with a bruising hardness. once he broke the kiss, a malicious spark shined in his sharp eyes.
“anything for my doll.”
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network. @cromernet
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tadc-ragatha · 7 months
Text
Being Their Friend
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TW: Breakdowns/crises (mentioned), knives, swearing, centipedes, bullying, general mental health stuff, Zooble's limbs being (painlessly) moved/stored/body horror
Type: Headcanons
A/N: Hi. These are just for fun; don't get up in arms if they aren't perfect (they can't be anyway, considering how far into the show we are). Requests aren't open (EDIT: they are open now). Spoilers obviously. Includes only the main six because I honestly don't know enough about Caine yet.
Pomni
Being her friend entails a multitude of existential crises. Everyone's trying to find their own way to cope, but expect to be helping her through many a panic attack. She's a hot mess most of the time, and doesn't really know what to do.
As seen in the trailer, she still gets scared of getting hurt, much unlike people like Ragatha who know they can't be harmed by knives or whatever else Caine throws at them. It'd be your job to help calm her down during these situations and help her adjust to not being hurt.
Other than that, I imagine once Pomni gets (semi) used to living in the digital circus you'd spend a lot of time looking for the exit. She definitely wants to get out of there before she becomes abstracted--something she knows is possible with her mental state. She also just wants to get her and everyone else out of there. Even that jackass Jax.
Pomni would take a lot of comfort in the things that connect her to the real world like food. If she offers you some food, you know you're really friends with her. If she had access to drawing/painting equipment or whatnot, I reckon she'd try to draw herself in her real form (if she could remember). She's like to see what you look like, and would compliment you on your appearance.
Ragatha
Ragatha's been in the digital circus for a while, and is much more comfortable with it than some of her other friends (or so she likes to pretend). She's fine with getting hit with knives as seen in her introduction short and likely wouldn't be scared of dying by anything else. As she said, her only fear is centipedes.
Still, it'll be your job to get them out of her room for her. Everyone knows what an arsehole Jax can be, and she sure as hell isn't risking walking into her room to find tens of thousands of them. If you don't do it, she's staying in your room for an indefinite amount of time.
Actually, I think Ragatha would like to have sleepovers anyway. It'd keep her impending thoughts at bay. Even if she doesn't require sleep, it's fun and reminds her of home. Like I said in Pomni's section, I think she'd enjoy drawing or painting. Or any creative visual art really, but especially drawing and painting for the purpose of making pictures of what you look like outside of the digital world.
Though be warned, the sight of her may send her off on a spiral of homesickness. Since Ragatha serves as a kind of rock of stability (as best as her overly optimistic self can), seeing her collapse may cause the others to collapse, too. Except maybe Jax, but it'll be up to you to try and get everyone back together before abstraction happens.
Jax
First of all, I don't know if this is possible. Not only are we so little into the show to really know, but Gooseworx also said he's going to have some really bad scenes. So, I suppose you won the lottery in doing this...Maybe. It really depends on how you look at it.
Because first of all, he's still a massive dick. He's just rude to everyone, so expect nothing different. He'll still be a jerk to you, "prank" you, or really, just straight up bully you. Honestly, half the time you can't even tell this guy is supposed to like you. He doesn't even really say sorry unless it's sarcastic.
The only way you can tell he likes you as a friend is when he gets all up in arms about you being annoyed at him. At first, at least, he's confused as to why you can't just let it go. Over time, though, he gets more in tune with his emotions and starts to mellow out a little.
However, it does come with the perk of having someone who will beat the ever-loving life out of whoever hurt you. Okay, well, not that far--he's got to keep his reputation as someone who doesn't care about other people, so he'll at most just be a bit of a bigger pain in their side. But it's still there.
Things you'd do together include terrorising the other members (or, he tries to get you in on it, anyway), sneaking into people's rooms to snoop around, and all-in-all just being a bit of a pain. But you also do other things; he seems like he's not one for visual arts or theatre, but maybe he could play an instrument and may--very heavy on the "may"--teach you some stuff. Otherwise, I don't think he's an arts guy. He'd enjoy video games, though, if they had those! And going to the digital carnival for thrills along with just exploring the grounds.
Kinger
Kinger would be an interesting friend. I have two routes for this guy based on a theory I saw. Route one follows him actually being on the brink of insanity/abstraction. In this route, you have to make sure he's alright. Just be gentle with him and check up on him every now and then. But don't be in his face all the time. Everyone needs a bit of personal space.
You can still hang out with Kinger, obviously. You can still talk about things you'd normally talk about, whatever that may be. Just don't bring up the abstracted queen (who I shall be calling Queener). It'll bring up some...Bad memories.
Anyways, my second route is this: based on a theory, Kinger is actually one of the more stable ones in the group, and is just pretending to be on the brink of losing it. Basically, if I remember right, he's pretending in order to get out of the activities/shenanigans of the group.
But no matter what his reason for doing it is, he's smart as hell. Having tricked everyone, it'd take a keen eye to figure it out. If you do, he'd be impressed. Once he trusts you enough, the two of you will discuss the other circus members and how to outsmart them secretly. You'll also just hang out, gossip...He feels like a guy who'd be into drama, with his whole being the actual king thing. You two would do some impromptu skits and whatnot to pass the time.
Gangle
Oh, Gangle. What would you do with Gangle? Well, you'd certainly have to be gentle with her. She's a very fragile soul--and also fragile physically--and needs some care. Help her repair her mask, or better yet, stop Jax from breaking it in the first place. In fact, just stop him from doing any mean stuff to her in the first place.
Other than that, Gangle is someone who'd actually enjoy drawing as a hobby and not just a memories thing. She draws anime, and would make you and her anime personas with cool abilities and features like wings and shit. I imagine her art style is very early-mid 2000s anime, with the really big eyes and whatnot.
Anyways, I reckon she'd also write. Mostly fanfiction when she wasn't stuck in the digital world, but since there's no fandoms to write about now she'd start branching out into her own original stories. But don't get me wrong; if anyone was going to write about their friends and fellow members it'd be her. She just hides it somewhere other than her room. Gangle would like to write stories about your sonas going on adventures and saving the world.
Eventually, these stories probably get found by Jax or someone else (but probably Jax). He'd laugh his arse off at them and would run to tell everyone about it. Unless you can absolutely beat the shit out of him, prepare to do some explaining and also comforting for her.
Zooble
Zooble does not give much of a shit about the others. They wouldn't let them die (at least I think so), but they're in no way buddy-buddy with them. In order to be friends with them, you'd have to meet their strict criteria. So, good job on that!
Being friends with them would either involve lots of gossip because they want to talk shit about people and complain, or it'd have no gossip because they honestly couldn't care less about the others. I can't tell. But if you do gossip, I imagine they know a lot about the other members. You'd be filled in on everything they know, too. They've been dying for someone to tell this too.
Zooble's also very particular about their looks, as seen in their introductory short. They have many stored limbs and whatnot to swap around for their mood. Don't mess with their body by switching around their antennae-like things or ripping off their body parts like Jax. They will retaliate.
Going off of this, though, I imagine they're pretty strong. I mean, they choked Jax like that. So, if anyone (him) comes around to piss you off, you best bet they'll be on their way to beat his arse. Though, it probably ends in a tug-of-war with one of their arms.
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sabertoothwalrus · 7 months
Note
hi !! just curious because i was looking at your adventure time episode guide and i love hearing other peoples adventure time takes !! how come you don't like finn's characterisation in together again?
I've talked about it before here and here!
But also I'm gonna say more and share some art I did in 2021 for a rewrite comic that I never got around to doing
So again to reiterate: Adventure Time is usually VERY good at making it feel like time passes, even when you're not watching. It's something about what they don't show that tells you everything you need to know.
Together Again did not do this.
It really really felt like they were avoiding showing Finn as an adult, as if they wanted to leave his post-show life ambiguous. Which, now that Fionna and Cake has shown us literally that, it makes Together Again feel even more wrong?? Like. imagine you have to pick a moment from your life that represents You™ the most. Together Again said that Finn, after living his whole life and dying as an old man, feels most represented by how he was at 17. I do not buy this. I am 25, and I cannot fathom identifying by my 17 year old self. I was a completely different person then, I was still cooking. I can imagine most people feel the same. And ok, so maybe Finn DOES for some reason feel stuck at 17? Explain to me why!! What needed to happen to him that made him feel that way?
And before you just say "it's because Jake died," there's still too much that was left out. How old was Finn when Jake died? What was Finn like, at that point? What else had they accomplished? What was he doing at the time that was on the forefront of his mind? Where/with who did they spend most of their time? Where were they living after the treehouse got destroyed?
It was like,,, it was like the story Together Again actually wanted to tell was about Finn's grief, and how poorly he copes, and how too much of his identity is tied to Having Jake, and how he struggles to move on. But that's not the story we got. I honestly think-- as interesting as it was-- everything with New Death and Tiffany and Lich just did a disservice to the focus, which was Finn trying to get over Jake.
I think Together Again should have gone like this:
Finn and Jake had always planned that whoever died first would wait in the dead world for the other to die so the two of them could reincarnate. Jake dies first. Jake would be able to "watch over" Finn as he lives the rest of his life, so Jake wouldn't miss Finn as much as vice versa, since he'd feel like he's still there with him. Eventually, Finn dies.
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Finn's appearance would change with his emotional state. I thought it'd be interesting to show different phases of his life through the stages of grief.
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There'd be a room where they could watch Finn's memories. Finn would walk Jake through the events of his life. We SEE exactly how Finn dealt with grief, with heartbreak, with love, with friends, with community. All the good and all the bad.
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By the end of it, Finn is quiet. "Jake... when we reincarnate, will we.. lose all of this?" "Well, do you remember anything from any of your other past lives?" "No.. But that's the point. I don't want to forget you." Finn, despite their promise, despite Jake waiting for him all this time, declines reincarnating. He doesn't want to move on, because that would mean forgetting everything. He wants to say with Jake!! He JUST got Jake back!!
“What if— in the future— what if they forget about us? What if they don’t know about all the stuff we did?” We see Ooo in its current state. It’s changed, but it’s clearly been affected by the two of them. Every person they’ve saved, every civilization they helped build, every hero they’ve inspired. They’ve left their touch everywhere. “They’ll know,” Jake says with certainty. “We’ll know.” We see the future, with Shermy and Beth. We see the Finn Sword, and BMO with all their old belongings. Everything stays, but it still changes. Will happen, happening, happened. These have always been the themes of the show. They reincarnate, together.
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disillusioneddanny · 5 months
Text
If It Makes You Happy (then why the hell are you so sad?)
Tim took a bite of his ravioli and looked around the table at his family. It was Sunday dinner. A monthly tradition where every member of the family adopted or otherwise came to spend a few hours together. It didn’t matter who was arguing with whom, or how estranged from the family you were at the time. You still had to attend the monthly family dinner. However, there were times when Tim wondered if anyone would notice if he stopped attending. If he no longer came to the dinners where he sat mostly unnoticed by the rest of his family. Where he typically sat in silence, having not uttered a single word throughout the entire event. Would they ever realize he was gone? Did they even realize he was there in the first place? 
A part of Tim truly doubted it, if he was being completely honest with himself. Maybe that was why he hadn’t been able to share with the family his upcoming exhibit. 
Tim was in his fourth year of college. Where he was getting a degree in Art, Technology, and Culture. It was a major that allowed Tim to immerse himself in photography, video art, creative coding, and so much more. He had gotten to work in traditional analog and digital photography. Played around with film and art in ways he had never thought of before while also learning about cultural theory, the expression of ideas, and cultural practices which gave him the chance to truly discover himself. It was the first time he had ever chosen something for himself. 
His entire life he had been groomed to run a business. To at first take over Drake Industries one day and then later Wayne Enterprises where he was unfortunately CEO. But then he had learned about the ATC program at Gotham University and he had fallen in love with it.  He had always been obsessed with photography and even film later on as he grew older and spent his days alone in dusty old Drake Manor. And he had always loved to learn about cultures, he ate up the stories from his parents and their trips abroad. Had spent countless nights watching the people of Gotham and how they did things, and had absorbed it all like a sponge to make up for the fact that he was just a lonely boy living in a manor by himself. 
Even when he had joined the Bats and had made his tiny little place with them, he still fell back on his love for learning about others and his desire to tell their stories. It had just become an intrinsic part of Timothy Drake. 
And now here he was, slowly creeping to the finish line. He had his senior showcase coming up. A requirement for all students who were receiving a bachelor of fine arts. He was to show off all of his best work from the last four years. It was a chance for him to show everything he had learned, and to display his work with pride. 
He had toyed with the idea of inviting everyone to it. To let them see the love that Tim had cultivated over the last four years. He was set to graduate in just a few months and the pride he felt for himself was tremendous. And if Tim invited the Wayne family to his senior showcase, then maybe they could come to his college graduation and share the achievement with them then too. 
It was a big time in Tim’s life and he wanted to share it with them. 
He listened as a lull came in the conversation and carefully cleared his throat, drawing the attention of the others. 
“I have a senior showcase this weekend for my BFA. It’s at six in the evening in the Wayne Arts Center on Gotham Campus. I would be happy to see you all there,” he said hesitantly, eyes firmly trained on his plate of food. 
“That sounds nice, Tim. I’ll try to be there,” Bruce said politely before going back to his conversation with Jason and Dick. Tim felt eyes on him, though, and slowly looked up to find his little brother giving him a curious look. 
“What?” He asked, still trying to calm his heart just a bit. He still wasn’t sure why he came to these things, why he was even here. Just talking to the Waynes gave him anxiety. Just being here reminded him how much he didn’t belong. How other he was compared to the rest of the kids that Bruce had adopted? 
Damian tilted his head to the side. “I was not aware that you were getting your Bachelor's in Fine Arts. Will you tell me about your degree program? I have been thinking about getting an Art History degree but have been torn between that and a business degree.”
Tim gave him a small smile and rested his chin on his hand as he started to tell Damian all about his degree and how he was enjoying the program at Gotham University. The rest of the family went on to their own conversations while Damian listened with rapt attention to Tim describing the ATC program at Gotham U. 
The rest of the week was a whirlwind as he prepared for his senior showcase, he had sent out invitations to everyone he wanted to come see his work. The Team had already made a reservation to take Tim to lunch before the showcase before helping him get everything ready. And as the day came to be, they had made good on their word, taking him to his favorite Vietnamese restaurant in Gotham before taking him to the gallery. He blushed as he listened to his three best friend gush over his artwork, as they listened to him explain each piece. They asked questions and made remarks about what their favorite pieces were and even tried to buy a few pieces only for Tim to promise to give each of them prints of his photos. 
The three had left with quick goodbyes, each one giving Tim a hug and congratulating him before they made their way from the gallery. The rest of the evening dragged on as people came by and asked Tim about his photos and the small films that played on the movie screen on one wall. He smiled and explained each photo to anyone who asked. He had wanted to showcase his vigilante photos of the bats and birds but it had been too much of a risk to do so. 
Instead he had shown off his photos that showcased all of his favorite parts of Gotham. From the beautiful gothic architecture, the gargoyles that looked out over the city. He showed the photos from the last time Ivy had thrown a fit in Robinson Park and covered the entirety of the grounds with flowers. He showed the pictures of community from Crime Alley and the beauty of the strength of Gothamites who had managed to survive the worst of the worst. 
He also featured pictures of his family, of Dick hanging from a chandelier, of Damian training Titus to do a trick. He had a picture of Bruce, Alfred, and Jason sitting side by side as they each read a different book. One showed Cass as she posed for the camera in her favorite ballet form. They were some of his most treasured memories, there for everyone to see and enjoy. Tucker between the one of Damian and the one of Dick was a photo of Tim. He had taken forever to set up the camera and get the timer right. Alfred had simply chuckled the entire time as he continued to offer to take the picture for Tim but no one was meant to be behind the camera for that picture. It was the only family portrait of his entire family. Cass, Damian, Tim, Dick, Jason, Bruce, Alfred, they all sat smushed into a single couch together, wide smiles and laughs on each of their faces as Tim beamed from the far side, leaning into Alfred’s side. 
The gallery was meant to showcase culture that was important to Tim. To showcase the life that he loved and treasured. And even if he never felt like he quite fit in the Wayne Family, even though he knew that he was the expendable one, the replacement, he still treasured his family. It was why he had invited them, he had wanted them to see just how important they were to Tim. And maybe they would realize he was important to them too.
Only, the rest of the evening seemed to drag on, and not a single person from his family ever stepped through the door. He waited, shoulders tensed and smile polite. Every bit the gentleman that Janet Drake had trained him to be as he stood with his hands clasped in front of him. He kept glancing at the clock, waiting for Bruce or Dick or someone to walk through the doors, to say hello and look at all the work that Tim had put in the last four years in college. The hours ticked by until it was nearing ten pm and the gallery started to clear out, custodians came in and started to clean up around him. 
Tim cast one final look at the doors before he turned to his photos and started to take one off of the wall. 
“Master Timothy! I am so sorry that we are late,” a voice said and Tim quickly to find Alfred and Damian walking through the doors of the gallery. A small smile spread on Tim’s face as Damian bound forward. 
“I apologize,” Damian said softly, staring up at Tim with disgruntled eyes. “I got into an argument with Father and then Titus scared Alfred the Cat and we spent the last three hours searching for that blasted cat and when we realized the time we came straight here,” he said. “What did the others think of your exhibit?”
Tim’s smile fell and he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “They uh, they didn’t show up,” he said quietly. “But if you’d like, you guys are the last ones to show up. I’d love to show you everything.”
Alfred’s face fell at that as he stepped forward and clasped a hand on Tim’s shoulder. “That is their loss, my dear boy. I would love to see your work,” he said. Before he could stop himself, Tim pulled Alfred in for a tight hug, burying his face in the old butler’s chest as he held him close. 
“Thank you,” he whispered before pulling away. He glanced down at Damian and smiled. “How about I show you my work and then if my advisor is still here you can meet her and talk to her about the ATC program.”
The fourteen-year-old nodded his head once. “I would appreciate that,” he said before grabbing Tim’s hand hesitantly. He followed quietly as Tim showed them his pictures of Gotham, explaining the stories behind each one before he showed them his favorite pictures. His pictures of home and both men let out soft gasps as they looked at them. 
“Master Timothy, these are beautiful,” Alfred said, stepping forward to take in the picture of him, Bruce, and Jason. 
“The lighting for this is amazing, I did not know that I even smiled like that,” Damian said softly as he took in the picture of him smiling at Titus. 
“Oh Tim,” Alfred said quietly, losing all strict politeness that Alfred held so dear to his heart as he took in the family portrait. “This is amazing, Timothy. So absolutely perfect. I remember when you took this photograph. It was right after Thanksgiving dinner last year.”
“I was so irritated, Todd had gotten mashed potatoes in my hair,” Damian said with a huff, a small smile tugged on his face. 
“I did not even realize that Master Richard and Master Jason were hugging in this picture,” Alfred said, a soft smile sti on his face as he took in the way Dick had his arms wrapped around Jason’s shoulders, a wide smile on his face as he laughed at something Jason had said. A small smile sat on Jason’s face, his eyes brighter than Tim had seen since the older man had come back from the dead. 
Alfred tore his eyes from the picture. “How much?” he asked. 
Tim blinked. “What?”
“How much for the picture?” Alfred asked him, turning back to the family portrait. 
“For you?” Tim asked, blinking again in surprise. “Free of charge, considering it a thank you for coming to my senior showcase.”
“I would like this one of Titus and me,” Damian piped up. “It would be lovely on my desk in my bedroom.”
Tim sniffed, his chest tightening slightly. “I would be more than happy to give you both the original copies.”
“Timothy,” Alfred said, turning back to Tim, that soft, kind, smile on his face once again. “I am so incredibly proud of you.”
The vigilante’s eyes burned furiously. “I-I thank you,” he said, a soft sob slipped out of his mouth before small arms wrapped around him. Damian hugged him tight, his face pressed against Tim’s chest. 
“I am so sorry that our family forgot to come to your showcase, Timothy,” he said stiffly. “You are incredibly talented and it is their loss for missing out on this.”
Tim pressed a hand to Damian’s back, feeling tears building behind his eyes that threatened to spill over. “Thank you,” he whispered. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly before he looked around and spotted his advisor. “There’s Professor Maheshawen. She’s my advisor. We can go talk to her and you can ask your questions, okay?”
Damian nodded and pulled away carefully, smoothing down the front of his sweater before he followed after Tim to meet his professor. Leaving Alfred to continue staring at the pictures with a kind smile on his face.
Alfred Pennyworth looked at the smiles on his charges faces and let out a breath. One of these days, Bruce and the others would realize just how important Timothy was to their family, how he was the one who held them all together. He only hoped that they would not realize that lesson too late in life. At the very least, Damian was now starting to understand just how wonderful Timothy Drake was. 
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bby-deerling · 2 months
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Hi!!! Can I request Sanji and Kidd (separate) with a S/O who shows love by making things? For ex. She’d make bracelets or drawings as nothing that comes to mind honestly. If something makes her think of them she would whip it up in no time, she’s always had a knack for crafts! anyways your fics make my day, I love reading them sm! Hope you’re healthy!!
awee nonny, this is so cute! i threw in zoro too bc i looooove him or whatever, i hope that's okay!
one piece men & a s/o who makes them things
ft. zoro, sanji, kid || masterlist
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zoro
he isn't very vocal when you give him a gift, but most of the time he simply is at a loss for words. zoro isn't the type to think much about gifts that people give him, but something handmade from you holds a special place in his heart, especially if creating art is related to your dream—to him, it shows dedication, a trait he really admires in you.
will wear any bracelets you give him until they inevitably fall apart from excessive wear and tear or getting accidentally sliced off in battle; at first he simply wears whatever you give him, but after a while he'll gruffly ask you to make the next one black and green.
he's terrible at expressing it, but he enjoys the drawings and paintings you make of him that range from full-fledged pieces to silly doodles. at first, you weren't sure if he was even keeping them, until you find a stack of them at the bottom of his drawer, kept neatly out of harm's way.
sanji
fawns and coos over every scrap of paper and gift you make for him; he loves to show your accomplishments off and brag to anyone who will listen and can't help but ramble on about how talented his lover is with all things crafty.
will wear any piece of jewelry, even if it makes him look absolutely silly. one time you turned a neat looking shell you found on the beach together into a necklace that was far too clunky and large to look good, but he wore it to death anyways, getting emotional every so often as he recalls the memory.
when you redraw his first wanted poster, creating something that both you and he feels is more accurate to his likeness, he falls to a heap on the ground and cries in happiness. the way you capture him, mixed with the care you put into each stroke of your colored pencils melts him into a puddle of lovestruck goo.
kid
one-upping each other with handmade gifts is a not-so-silent competition between you two. he deeply loves and appreciates all of your gifts, in his own clumsy, brutish way, but he can't help but want to return every present you give him with something better.
though he is resolved to knock your socks off and "win" the never-ending competition between you, he also takes it upon himself to help you take your own projects to the next level, even if it sometimes spoils the surprise for him. he teaches you basic metalworking and wire-wrapping to make your handmade jewelry more professional, and has no problem doing some plundering to get his hands on some rare stones for you to use.
some of his favorite times are spent tinkering in his workshop, with him working on a large-scale mechanical engineering project while you diligently make your crafts alongside him. though most of the time you have to yell over to each other to overpower the hum of machinery, spending time hanging out and chatting with you while you both create something worthwhile means the world to him.
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nkogneatho · 5 months
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𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐀𝐑𝐓
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—a/n: a fluff piece with toji. self-inserted because i think about him way too much.
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"Toji," you cooed in your sweet voice, grabbing the attention of not only the man you were looking for but a handful of other people in the painting section.
"Yes, my love?" He excused himself from the painting he was eyeing. He was wearing a black trenchcoat, underneath a coffee dark shirt. He had black leather gloves because you asked him to wear it as they completed the look. He isn't the one to care about fashion much, but it's nice to have someone like you to remind him he has potential to look like he's straight out of a vogue magazine.
"Shouldn't you be here too? You're older than the museum probably," you tease him.
"How long have you been waiting to crack that one?" His voice was monotonous.
"The day we started dating." He nodded at your patience. "Now, let's go over there, please."
"Baby, they have nothing interesting in that section. See? Not even a single person there."
"But I wanna see. please? please? I promise we'll be quick." It's not like he didn't want to go, it just felt useless. The room was practically empty. Nothing but a glimpse of a statue lurking that no one was interested in. But since it caught your eye, he probably was curious too, now.
"Okay," he replied. You grabbed his hand, layered in a glove drenched in cold, but you were too excited to care. You dragged him in the room, and your eyes fell on the statue—well...fell in love with the statue. It was a beautiful sculpture of two lovers embracing each other in a beautiful way.
"Oh my god," you were so in awe.
"See? It's just another couple statue," Toji claimed.
"No. It's different. Look how he is gently holding her, like he wants to protect her from every bad thing." Toji chuckled to himself after realizing you might've just described him.
"And the way her hands are reaching for his hair, trying to pull him in so that he is bathed in her love and never leaves. And...and the way he is looking at her which such fondness...like she's something he cherishes so much. Like she's everything he's ever wanted."
The room went silent after you finished your last sentence. Your eyes turned to the side to find Toji staring at you. Surprisingly, with the same expression you were just now describing.
"Toji?"
"You are so cute," he complimented.
"What has gotten into you all of a sudden?" He did shower you with compliments everyday but calling you cute was rare. And it always came after a long gaze.
"Nothing. I just realized this might be us." He walked closer. "Beacause you are everything I ever wanted." His hands started caressing your face. "I wanted these beautiful eyes to search for just me. I want these lips to kiss just me. I want these hands to hold mine."
"Toji—"
"You are what they call art, my love. And if you'd let me, I'll spend my whole life admiring you. Just you."
You pulled him in a kiss because there's no way after hearing one of the most poetic things, you were just going to stand there. He breathed into the kiss, like he was holding them for too long.
"Dammit, baby. Stop making me cry in public," you held his cheeks in your palm.
"Hmm." He let out a small chuckle. "Let's go home. I'll cook your favorite tonight."
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