Tumgik
#i mean to be fair i think i'm pretty clear in like what i'm looking for.  it's just a matter of finding the right artist
daydreamingqueen1 · 5 months
Text
Pairing: boyfriend! Spencer Reid x Reader
Warnings: fluff, like a swear word, a bit suggestive, no y/n.
Summary: Spencer seeing you for the first time in a push-up bra.
Word count: 670.
✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆
"Spence, did you grab the present? I don't want Penelope to kill me, you know," you yell from your room, finishing getting ready for Penelope's over the top birthday party.
You are checking yourself in the mirror, you have chosen to keep it simple, wanting to look pretty but letting the birthday girl go for the more neck-turning outfits.
You had, however, bought a new push-up bra to use with your usual little black dress since most of your other bras were not... let's just say not in the apogee of their life. It is a plain thing really, black with thin straps and a bit of lace that shows a little over the the neck of the dress. It is nice and it wasn't too expensive, making your breasts pop up, and giving you an overall more flattering look. You didn't think the difference with a regular bra was that noticeable until—
"Yes, I already put it in the car so we don't– Babe."
You turn your gaze from your reflection to catch Spencer standing dumbfounded at the door with his mouth hanging open, his sentence cut in half.
His eyes are definitely not in your face.
A slight smile curls in your face, "What?"
"I–" your boyfriend stammers, unable to stop ogling at your cleavage, his voice dropping to an airy whisper, "They look huge..."
"Spencer!" you chastise him lightly, a slight blush creeping up your cheeks.
"What? It's true!" Spencer retorts back, taking a step closer to you, his eyes briefly flying to your face before returning down, "They– they look..." he makes a gesture with his hands resembling two blown out balloons.
You walk up to him and slap his shoulder, though a chuckle escapes your lips, "Stop! Don't look at me like that!"
"They're practically staring back at me!"
"It's just a new push-up bra," you huff, your arms crossing over your torso defensively but it has the opposite desired effect since it makes your cleavage even more pronounced, his eyes widening comically like one of those cartoon characters.
Spencer's nods, looking almost entranced, "Well, I really like it,"
You make a pout, "Is it too much? Should I change?"
"No, no, no, definitely not," his eyebrows almost shoot up to his hairline, "You look awesome, sweetheart, I just wasn't prepared, you almost gave me a heart attack, I mean, wow– just..." his hand reaches out to touch your breasts on instinct.
You slap him again, his hand this time, "Spencer!"
"Sorry, sorry, they're good, they look good, shit– sorry," He shakes his head as if trying to clear his thoughts, "You look good, babe."
You purse your lips, "That's it, I'm changing,"
"No, babe, really, I'll stop now I promise." He gives you an apologetic smile, his eyes on your face now.
A small smile threatens to appear on your face but you swallow it down. It is kind of cute that he seems so mesmerized by you, well, even if it is because of your tits. Something about having Spencer stuttering over his words like a teenager at the sight of them gives you a bit of a confidence rush.
You sigh, "Okay, but you'll behave, alright?"
"Yes, sweetheart, I'll behave," he pulls you into a hug, knowing damn well you can't resist it. You lean into his chest, inhaling the lovely scent of his freshly applied cologne.
He pulls back after a few moments and grins down at you, "Should we go then?"
"Yes, Spencer, let's go," you flash him a smile before exiting your bedroom with him trailing right behind you.
"Just to be fair, I like the back of the dress just as much."
Your hands fly back to cover your ass, "Spencer!"
He chuckles walking up next to you and depositing a sweet kiss on the top of your head before opening the door for you, "We're definitely leaving Penelope's party early."
Oh, well, your genius boyfriend can be an idiot sometimes. You'd be lying if you said you didn't like it.
✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆
well that's it, just a short drabble that came to me because of a tiktok lol
I'm kind of new to tumblr but i'd like to start writing prompts like this so if you have an idea you'd like me to write feel free to reach out!
reblogs and comments are appreciated <3
hope ya liked it, byebye
My masterlist
2K notes · View notes
weebsinstash · 2 months
Text
I know the show isn't out yet but Stayed Gone is stuck in my head and I'm chugging my yandere Vox juice so hard right now. I think he has the capacity to be absolutely insufferable
Tumblr media
---for starters THE SPYING POTENTIAL WITH THIS MAN. You're telling me he can directly plug himself in to the city power grid and see through all televisions, potentially even phones and computers too? Could he put himself on your phone and start going through your texts? Could he even just put himself on your phone real quick while you're sleeping to check in on you? You couldn't even have privacy in your own home because of whatever screens are around he could potentially shoot himself to or watch you through. Imagine just being in your apartment completely alone and he's suddenly on your tv. Like what if you had just been sitting there topless or with your dick out or something or 👀 I mean. He could see so much, really...
---God honestly like. You know I keep mentioning the Instagram without ever attaching pics or anything because I'm on mobile and I'd have to use the hazbin Instagram archive blogs here on tumblr to go find them back like, you know Val would openly post the meanest shit, would literally post Vox's face being busted up because he woke Val up from a nap or i think it was he literally just brought him the wrong soda (which to be fair was taken from Velvet and was half empty), and then you go over to Vox's account and his pic was taping his pieces back on while being really frustrated and kinda lowkey looking like he would cry
Like Val's out here "women are stupid also men are stupid too" and talking about how he adopted a dog and killed it within like 48 hours and here's Vox celebrating his pet's birthday with cake and a party like. Why are these men together. Why. Why. Don't get me wrong I love to be the involuntary third in a toxic codependency but--
look all I'm saying is... do any of you get really really upset when you see someone being mistreated, especially more so a friend of yours?
READER JUST LOSING THEIR SHIT GETTING FERAL ANGRY SHOUTING AND SCREAMING AT VAL BECAUSE HE PULLS SOME SHIT and like that's IT for you because 1. Valentino might like actually backhand you one as well, do you think he wears rings so it hurts, 2. Vox sees you defending him and like, it's based on your own preferences really but if he wasn't already gaga this CEMENTS it and 3. especially if he watches you have to take a blow for trying to stick up for him. Like what if you cry. I have a low pain threshold, I'd be sniveling and crying at the least. Valentino storms off and Vox is helping peel you off the floor cause you curled up into a ball or some shit and he's sitting there thinking "wow they suck at this but they still did it for me 🥺"
---during his song with Alastor, it's a little confusing because they show an actual camera crew when he's turning the TVs on, but i think it's pretty clear that he can control whatever the screens show visually, thus his little zany sketches and being able to talk to himself and at one point, showed the visual of himself blocking the radio Alastor was projecting on right next door. I can just see him using this to kind of.... fuck with you, really! Or do whatever he wants? He's trying to suck up to you and he's surrounded by roses, or you're his co-host/guest host and he thinks your joke was funny and gives a little audience laughter as a treat
Or you know... you're running from him down the street, passing all these different screens and displays as they power on and show things like, him "jumping in front of you" while demanding you stop or, trying to show some kind of blackmail publicly, or just, begging you to just ACCEPT HIM and showing you all the fun things he could do with you, "cmon, I said I was sorry, stop freaking the fuck out! We can- we can do that thing you've always wanted to do, what about that?!" as he tries to project you two doing something fun, but most importantly, doing it TOGETHER. You're running from him terrified and he's showing you images of like you two smiling and happy or, it becomes scarier as he's more desperate
"Don't-don't make me do something fucked up!! I'm serious, STOP RUNNING" and he's like freaking out, showing shit of trying to hold you down, tying you up, and/or shoving you into a locked room
Sudden thoughts of "what if the more emotional and unstable he becomes, the less he can control his intrusive thoughts and shows his more impulsive darker desires". He's tweeking and the screen glitches and you briefly think you see yourself completely restrained, blindfolded, gagged--
---he's just like OBVIOUSLY so prideful but also immature and whiny ("who gives a shit about alastor?" Well you, mr hes just quietly minding his own business and I'LL start beef because i feel threatened and STILL LOSE, like awww my poor little pogchamp got publicly humiliated in an argument HE started out of nowhere, he's my little sad wet baby lmaoooo) and we already know his relationship with Val can become physically abusive, so, you pair him staying in that kind of relationship, being codependent, with this personality of his, and I can just see.... ACTUALLY FUCKING TRIGGERED LIKE LITERALLY CRYING UPSET VOX BECAUSE YOU REJECTED HIM like he's pissed he's hurt he's lonely he's heartbroken and HELL NO IS HE GONNA ACCEPT THIS
Vox would be over here proudly claiming on his TV show that NO HE REJECTED Y O U, not the other way around! He's not upset! He's totally fine! Meanwhile everyone watching can tell this man is manic and visibly hotboxing copium, "I didn't even really like you anyways!!.... no, I mean, shit, fuck, COMMERCIAL BREAK--" *cut to technical difficulties screen because the man is CRYINGGG*
-- Valentino and Reader bonding over teasing Vox and making him flustered and of course, obviously, the inverse. I still kinda like the idea of "they both think you're cute but like nothing exciting until one night they bump into you unplanned and you're all dressed up". Like Val is from the 70s or 80s so they go to a roller rink disco whatever kinda place because I'm sure the coke game there is INSANE and you're just like, swaying your hips spinning around to Let It Whip or September or something dressed in some shorts that make your ass look just right 🤌
You're sneaking back into the studio after a night out and they're both lounging somewhere and Val's like "uhhhh who is THIS coming in without saying hi to Daddy?" and you pull your sunglasses down like "SIR??? 😳" And now HE'S flustered because he didn't know that was you and Vox is feeling some new kinda way because he's used to seeing you in like, your work uniform or casual wear
Val who then makes your work uniform really slutty and you have to serve him and Vox wearing it 😩❤️
---I have this thought of like lmao imagine walking down the sidewalk with Angel and seeing Vox on TV and Angel is like "ya know he can see everything outta dese things when he's plugged in" and you're like "bullshit, he couldn't possibly process that many screens at once, it'd overload his brain, he wouldnt be able to concentrate" and you're like "here I'll prove it, hey Vox, check it out you fucking dweeb" and flash him your bare titties or you MOON HIM
scenario A would be that he INSTANTLY barks out laughing, "hey Val, that dumb slut who brings you drinks just flashed me!" And he just totally shows it on the air, maybe partially censored, maybe not at all, your phone is ringing IMMEDIATELY, of COURSE it's Val, and Vox is broadcasting your mortified embarrassed expression, "our big story tonight: drunk bimbo fucks around and finds out! More updates after this word from our sponsor!" and the man will noooootttttttt stop bullying the fuck out of you afterwards, because he's got a crush on you and you're like someone weaker than him his insecure ass can punch down on
Scenario B is that he instantly turns pink and about 5 seconds later he blue screens and the entire city experiences a blackout and when he comes back on the air he's like stammering and, glancing at, it FEELS like he keeps glancing at you, but, is he really?
------
I dunno... like I'm sure Valentino is gonna wind up being unstable in his own way but I guess there's a certain, ALLURE to Vox being a little bratty and whiny while also having these very VERY handy, actually quite scary abilities and resources 👀 like boy show me what that screen do 😫💦
844 notes · View notes
sinsofsummers · 9 months
Text
undone
2.2k | dbf!joel miller x f!reader
Tumblr media
summary: joel miller worships the day you showed up braless to his fourth of july party. warnings: smut (of course), 18+, mdni. no outbreak au, fourth of july party (forgive him he's from texas), joel's pov, he's a dumb bitch, masturbation (m), pervy!joel but not really, age gap (reader is in her 20s, joel in his early 40s), slight religious slander (not extreme by any means!). note: this is just me dipping my toes into the dbf!joel universe, lemme know what you think! zero editing basically, i'm so sorry, there will probably be more drabbles for this. also this is consolation for the dumb shit holiday that is independence day in the us. i hate it here.
He's anything but religious; he hasn't gone to church since he was a kid. And yet...Joel Miller worships the day you went braless to his Fourth of July party.
Even now, laid in his bed with his arm thrown carelessly across his face and his fist curled tightly around his cock, he's not sure he'll ever recover.
Muffled grunts fall from his lips with every strained tug, and he's sure it sounds something like prayer. Considering the fact that you're as close to heaven as he'll ever get, he'll call it a fair assessment. If it's sacrilege to jerk off to the thought of his best friend's daughter every night...so be it.
He's never been one with any type of remarkable memory, but he knows that the image of your perfect chest peeking at him through the thin thank you'd worn that day would stick with him forever.
You'd blinked up at him with a grin, a bowl of fresh fruit salad prepared to share with the rest of the guests in your hands. A strand of hair had fallen into your eyes and he'd had to fight against every urge and keep his hand down at his side.
What he really wanted to do was brush your hair from your eyes (ever the gentleman), and then replace the spot where his fingers would touch your forehead with his lips. He'd always wondered what your hair might smell like, what shampoo you used in the morning, and how your skin looked when the suds ran down your body, rinsed down the drain.
What he wouldn't give to be the suds running down your radiant skin, to touch every curve and crevice of your body, the spots that never see the light of day.
He hadn't seen you since you'd gone to college. Well, not for more than a few days over your Christmas break each year, and even then...he'd made sure to steer clear of you. Tried to ignore the way your smile made his own stutter, how your arms were always so soft around his neck when you gave him the occasional hug.
How your eyes had begun to linger, just enough to make his jaw clench and his cock twitch.
A strangled sigh fights its way out of his chest as he remembers the events of that fateful party, and just how he's ended up here, cock in hand, your scent in his head, and your name on his tongue.
"Jesus Christ," he murmured when you and your dad showed up with your dishes to pass. The backyard had been strewn with red, white, and blue decorations, the perfect image of a typical Texan backyard celebration for Independence Day.
He'd been unable to hide his groan at the way the bright colors practically bled into his skull, but there was no other way to have a Fourth of July party, apparently. Of course, this was really just for tradition, and...well, his younger brother Tommy would have had his head if there weren't at least a few American flag streamers.
Your little white tank had already begun to cling to your skin in the Texas heat, the straps thin. Before he knew it, he was hoping that the sun would do him a favor and kiss your skin where he wished he could. That it might form those pretty little lines along your shoulders and give a warm glow to your face, evidence of your presence at his house, at his party, drinking his beer.
"Drunk already?" your dad's voice roused him from his momentary lapse in judgment and then Joel was getting tugged into a firm handshake and a clapped hand on his shoulder.
He tore his eyes from you and hoped that the pink in his cheeks (that was definitely there) could be mistaken for a quickly setting sunburn. He didn't want to think of what you might take his blush for if you noticed.
He chuckled, shaking his head and returning the handshake. “Hell no,” he answered hastily, “just gettin’ hungry for that fruit salad, man.” And the angel holding it. “Need a hand?” he asked you, forcing his eyes not to wander from yours.
Fuck. Your eyes were extra bright today, with the sun seemingly lighting them from the insides. And those cheeks? Already pink and sunkissed, just how he’d hoped they would be. He might have offered you some sunblock if he’d thought it was appropriate. Might have offered to help you spread it onto your smooth skin if he’d thought that was appropriate.
Of course, he’d be condemned to the darkest circle of hell if he let those thoughts run wild. So he trained his eyes on yours and waited for your response.
You shook your head and tucked your hair behind your ear. You squinted into the sun, an action that forced one eye closed, as if you were winking at him. “I’ve got it,” you said casually, “can I put it inside for now?” You adjusted your hold on the fruit salad, making your breasts shift under your shirt.
Joel nodded—fuck’s sake, he thought with the movement of your chest—and tilted his head toward the back door that led to the kitchen. “Go for it, Sarah’s already in there.”
Your dad had been called away by Tommy, so Joel was left in your quiet company. He watched your smile widen at the mention of his daughter’s name and felt his heart twinge. You were just a few years older than his daughter, and here he was, not only willing his cock to settle down at the sight of your nipples pressing against the cloth of your shirt, but also wishing that your smile widened at the mention of his name. 
Joel wasn’t quite sure what happened in the subsequent minute or how he moved so quickly. Before he knew it, you’d stepped closer to him and he’d stepped to the side, except he was really just getting in your way, and your eyes were widening in surprise, and then the bowl of fruit salad was shuffling in your grip and he was stumbling to get back out of your way and then—
“Shit,” you mumbled a curse. The juice from the contents of the bowl—mostly watermelon juice, it looked like—had splashed up onto your shirt, seeping through the white fabric and painting your chest a pale pink. You looked up, a careless smile replacing the distracted look on your face. “Don’t worry about it, Mr. M, really. I was gonna have to wash this shirt tonight anyway.”
“I—uh, I didn’t mean to,” was all he could come up with, and he could feel his face heating once more at the look on your face. “Shirt’s ruined. I’m sorry darlin’,” he mumbled—was the temperature increasing by the second?—and pretended not to notice the way your shirt clung even tighter to your chest. It was like a damn wet t-shirt contest, the way the darker shade of your nipples began to peek through the soiled fabric at him. He blinked and looked away, trying to ignore the way your smile had turned into a smirk. Have you caught him? 
You shrugged and passed the bowl to him. “No, it’s not,” you reassured him with a breathless chuckle. “I’m sure Sarah’s got a shirt or two I can wear.”
He’d been left standing with the bowl of your fruit salad as you’d trekked into the house, presumably to do as you’d said. When you came out just a few minutes later, he’d been talking to your dad and a few of the other neighbors that had come over. He’d almost completely forgotten about the incident, until you were there again, standing in front of him. 
In his shirt.
“Uh,” he said dumbly, not sure whether you knew whose shirt you were wearing, or if you’d gone into the wrong laundry pile.
You picked at the hem of the shirt, and he traced the lines of your long fingers with his eyes, practically seeing your sweet scent sink into the fabric. He hoped you could smell his cologne lingering on the collar as it licked against the soft skin of your neck. “Sarah found this in her closet,” you explained, “she said it was one of her sleep shirts.” You flitted your gaze to him, and he caught a glimmer of amusement in the depths of your eyes. “Smells kind of…”
Like me. He shivered despite the heat and tapped his finger on his hip to calm himself down. It smells like me, and now you’re gonna smell like me, angel.
“Like men’s cologne,” you finished with a smirk dancing on your lips. “You sure Sarah’s not bringing home any guys you don’t know about, Mr. Miller?”
He cocked an eyebrow and bit back a cutting remark. “‘Course not,” he said smoothly, “they’d never get past the front door.”
It was all he could do not to tug you onto his lap with his shirt hanging past your hips, giving the illusion that you weren’t wearing any shorts beneath it. Fuck, he had to get away from your father before he did anything he regretted. “Need another drink, anyone?” he offered, shifting his weight away from you in a failed attempt to get the thoughts out of his mind.
The others shook their heads, but you nodded. “I’ll get another, actually,” you said simply. And then he was stuck with you, his fingers itching to lift that shirt from your body and reveal that warm skin to his desperate mind.
The kitchen was empty—a small blessing—and Joel fished through the fridge for another beer. Handing one to you, he cherished the way your fingers brushed his as you pulled it from his grasp, the droplets of condensation running down the bottle like he knew the sweat was running down his back at the thoughts that swam through his mind.
“S’my shirt, you know,” he grumbled softly, not quite sure why he’d said it. Maybe it was to gauge what your reaction would be. Maybe he already hoped that you’d smile at the thought.
You looked down at the shirt, cheeks reddening. “It is?” you said quietly, the surprise unraveling in your voice. “I’m sorry, I can get another one—”
He waved a dismissive hand. “Nah, s’okay. Looks better on you than it does on me, anyway.”
“Oh.” Just one word, but he noticed the way your legs wobbled at the same time. The way the bottle slipped just a centimeter in your hand.
Gotcha, he smirked inwardly. 
Days have gone by, and he still thinks about that blush in your cheeks every night. He can’t help it when you just look so angelic in the shirt of a sinner like him. 
Joel’s hand squeezes his cock for all its worth as he strokes himself languidly, faint mumbles beginning to fall from his lips like the verses of a damn hymn. “So fuckin’ pretty,” he groans in the darkness of his room, feeling the pressure build in his body. With every muscle in his chest tensing, he lets a broken sigh escape his throat as he spills his hot seed into his hand, the picture of your face embedded in his mind’s eye. Laying there for a moment, he catches his breath as oxygen raggedly pushes itself in and out of his lungs.
And then he hears it. A knock. The front door, it sounds like.
He hastily cleans himself up, but the faint feeling of stickiness remains on his hand as he traipses down the stairs in the dark, wondering just who the hell would be knocking on his door so late at night. 
When he opens the door, he’s not exactly expecting to see the face he’d just come on his hand to. 
“Hey,” he chokes out, hiding his hand behind his back as if you might be able to see the evidence of sacrilege on his skin. He’s afraid you’ll be able to decipher the sweat on his forehead for the sinful act that it had come from just moments ago. “What’s up?”
“Oh!” you sound surprised at his answering the door, a fact that makes him smirk. “I’m just…I’m just here to return Sarah’s shirt,” you explain hastily. 
There it is, hanging from your loose grip, waiting for him to take it. “You mean mine,” he corrects gently, his grin widening as he feeds his hand up the frame of the door, hovering over you close enough that he can see your pupils widen and pulse at the proximity of his chest to yours.
Your mouth hangs open, just enough that he thinks about pushing his thumb in between your lips, up to the first knuckle. His mind goes wild at the thought of how warm and soft and wet your mouth would be around his fingers. How perfect it would be around even more.
He shoves the thoughts away as you nod. “Yeah,” you say with a breathless chuckle. “Yours, I mean. I don’t need it anymore, though. So…” your eyes drop to the shirt between you, your words trailing off.
Joel shakes his head. “Don’t need it back,” he says warmly. “Not yet, anyway. Keep it.”
You blink. “What?”
He shrugs, the thought of you wearing it more than once lighting his mind on fire. “Keep it for now. I’ll come to collect it some other time. No reason to return it in the dead of night, doll.”
Fuck. The nickname had slipped. 
But based on the way your lips curl at the corners, he’s dodged a bullet. “Okay,” you say softly, and he swears he can see the moon reflected in your eyes. “Just for a little longer, then.”
He nods and says goodnight, closing the door only when he can see that you’ve made it back to your house next door safely. The door shuts with a soft click, and he grins to himself. 
To hell with the shirt. Doesn’t matter to him. He’ll get it back eventually. And when he does, he plans to have it smell like you.
this ending was so rushed ahhhh i have to go to work!!! bye!!!! ty for reading and all the love!!!!
tagging here cause i have to goooo to workkkkk!!!
@mingiast @iluvurfather @cavillscurls @cupofjoel @thetriumphantpanda @morning-star-joy @sofiparallel @elegantduckturtle @evyiione @bitchwitch1981 @disassociation-daydreams @mrsquill @littlemisssluttyknee @papipascalispunk @mumma-moonchild @marchai @mlodanatka @xdaddysprincessxx @bongsrconfusing @tlouadditc @dinsdjrn @alejaa-a @daysilva2 @worhols @jellybeanxc @struig @cherryreddarbiter
2K notes · View notes
rintosei · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
TALENT OF ATTENTION
feat. itoshi sae x gn! reader
prompt: “my hand is kinda heavy, can you hold it?” “that’s not how the line goes, but you’re cute so fine.” (from here!)
notes: a small drabble because i felt bad for not posting new fics for a couple of days ;-; still working on the rin fic and it's a pretty long one hihi
Tumblr media
you were on a mission, and that mission is to make sae feel flustered. you have never seen your boyfriend flustered or shy before, so now you have made it your duty to do so.
it was somewhat difficult though, considering that sae himself doesn't know what makes him flustered.
he's the best midfielder in the world, what's there to worry about?
now that you think about it, you have seen sae being all shy and flustered before, and that was when he asked you out on a date. he got all shy and couldn't meet your eyes and you can't help find it cute.
other than that, nothing you've ever done made him feel flustered. on the contrary, he's really good at making you feel shy. even small actions like kissing you a goodbye every morning, giving you his hoodie whenever you're cold, or even just wrapping his arm around your waist was enough to get you all red and shy.
you tried doing things you find cute to him, but all he responds with is a small smile or a "thank you, love." (which makes you all happy inside whenever he calls you that).
groaning in annoyance, you mindlessly scrolled through tiktok, occasionally letting out a few laughs at videos you found funny. a lightbulb suddenly appeared in your head.
"i know! i can try using pickup lines! why didn't i think of that sooner?" you thought to yourself, opening safari to find some cheesy yet cute pickup lines to use.
you eventually found one, and started a mini rehearsal of how you were going to start it. when you found the perfect "lines" to do, you stand up, walking to sae who was currently watching some netflix in the living room.
"sae, sae!" you called out excitedly, sitting down on the sofa next to him. his hands immediately paused the show, instinctively placing it around your waist.
"what is it?" sae asks softly, looking into your eyes. you paused, mind suddenly going blank.
"how can someone be this pretty? it's not fair!" you think to yourself as you find yourself admiring sae's facial features instead of starting your plan.
"love?"
"hm? oh!" you quickly snapped out of your daze, clearing your throat and faced him. "sae, my dearest boyfriend, my hand is kinda heavy, can you hold it?"
ah, you messed it up.
sae blinks at you and laughter bubbles up in his chest. "that’s not how the line goes, but you’re cute so fine." he takes your hand in his and squeezes it.
you whined out in embarrassment, using your free hand to cover your face. "i can't believe that happened! why do i keep messing it up?!"
"what do you mean? did you plan something?" sae asks almost innocently. truth be told, he's known what's been on your mind lately and why you have been attempting to do all these cute stuff to him. it was cute to him, so he didn't stop you from doing it.
"yes, i did! i wanted to see you all shy and flustered so i tried doing cute stuff you have always been doing to me but i always fail because-" you take in a deep breath. "-because of your pretty face i end up messing up or stuttering!"
when sae doesn't respond you lift your head and to your surprise, there was a light hue of pink on his cheeks. he immediately averts his eyes. "w-why're you staring?"
you rubbed your eyes, thinking that you were seeing things but when your sight becomes clear again, you are definitely not seeing things. "YOU'RE BLUSHING!"
a small pout appears on sae's face. "no i'm not, what are you talking about?"
you place both hands on his cheeks and forces him to face you. when his eyes meet yours, it made him even more red. "AH-! you are! aw, you're so cute when you're shy! just like a little tomato."
he smacks your hand away gently, turning his whole body to face away from you. "shut up."
"sae the little tomato!" you teased, earning a playful shove from sae.
he immediately pulls you close to him, which surprises you. his face was close, like, really close. lips merely a few inches apart and when you think that was going to kiss you, he pulls away.
"like that?" he asks, and now it was your turn to get shy.
"that was not fair!"
Tumblr media
taglist: @hyomagiri @tim-shii @fallenssun @17020 @saetoshi @daiseukiis @inariezaki ♡
1K notes · View notes
bonny-kookoo · 8 months
Text
X♡X♡ [SEVEN DAYS] Day 2
Tumblr media
The second day gives you a moment of reflection, and an interesting insight into his position in not only this arrangement, but the scene in general. And he also helps you use your past bad experiences go create a new one- one you'll probably never forget.
Tags/Warnings: Porn with a lot of plot basically, inexperienced!reader, Dom!Jungkook, BDSM themes and elements, discussion of past bad experiences (sexual and general relationships), bondage (tied wrists), sensual dominance, Oral (male receiving), handjob (female receiving), squirting, more of Jungkooks dirty thoughts but its pretty tame this time haha, aftercare, romantic tension is that a thing I'm making it a thing now
Length: 5.3k
There is no taglist for this fic.
-> Masterlist
A/N: Hello hi I hope this doesn't disappoint 💗
◇━━━━━━━━━━X♡X♡━━━━━━━━━━━◇
The next day, it's him who wakes up first. And for a minute or two, he's actually unsure where he is- why is he on the couch? And why does his chest feel so heavy?
And then it all bleeds back into him, fills his head with nothing but memories of what happened yesterday.
He wonders if it feels the same for you as it does to him. Do you enjoy it? Sure, it looks like it, feels like it- but what if you only pretend to not make him feel bad?
He knows what's going on with him, so he decides to be a little selfish for once. You'll understand- he's doing it to stay sane and in a good headspace after all, and that only benefits you at the end of the day.
His arms move around a bit, adjust as he carefully pulls you a little closer, just to reassure himself. You're sleeping deeply, resting comfortably, and that can only mean that he's not scary to you. You still like him, you still want to spend time with him.
You wake up slowly, stretch your limbs for a second before you yawn, eyes slowly opening to look at him. "What's wrong?" You ask, and he just shakes his head.
"Nothing." He smiles, speaks with an equally as tired voice towards you, as you to him. You don't buy his cheap lie though.
"If I need to be honest at all times, I want you to do that too." You argue sleepily. "Thats only fair."
"You're right." He sighs, running a hand through your hair. "You remember how you dropped yesterday, during your shower after I warned you what could happen?" He reminds you, and you nod, suppressing a yawn. "Well, I'm having somewhat of a similar situation. It's fine though- I'm already feeling much better." He reassures, but you move, and lean on your hands before you sit up.
"No, wait-" you shake your head. "-can I help with that? Like, you helped me, there's got to be something I can do in return." You tell him, and he can't help but lean his head back, close his eyes and laugh.
You're just too precious.
"I just need you." He says after a moment, hand reaching out for yours to take. "Thats all." He shrugs, and you watch him with suspicion, though you do take his inviting hand and lay back down close to him.
"Can you.. you don't have to if it's weird!" You instantly interrupt yourself, making him chuckle. "But.. okay so, it made sense to me that as the.. receiving one and stuff, you'd go through a drop of emotions. Like, of course, sure. But like, I don't really understand how you'd get the same feeling? You're the leader and stuff, right?" You wonder, and he nods, humming to himself as he thinks about how to properly explain it.
"People tend to think that the sub is.. some sort of 'victim' towards the dominant person." Jungkook says, while the arm you lay on is bent, hand drawing shapes on the tip of your shoulder. "In reality, it's a clear power exchange, right? I only do what you tell me I can. You're calling the shots. You make the boundaries- I only ever have as much power as you're willing to give me." He explains to you, and you nod. "And with that comes.. responsibility. Pressure. Because in order for you to be able to let yourself fall, I have to be able to hold you for that time." He continues, as your hand reaches out to let your finger follow some of the inked lines of his tattoos. "I go through just as many emotions as you do. It's why I told you aftercare is important for us both." He says, looking at where your finger is tracing his skin. "Without it, I can drop just as hard."
You adjust your position as he finishes his explanation, looking at him. "Is there.. can I do anything to make sure you.. like, don't?" You ask. "As in- what do you need to feel good afterwards too?" You wonder, and he laughs to himself, shaking his head before he pulls you a bit closer for a second.
"Like I said-" he says, stretching his arms as well. "-I just need you. As long as you make me feel wanted, I'll be fine." He offers, before he kisses you're forehead, only to get up and walk into the bathroom right after.
You're not entirely sure if you understand what he means by making him 'feel wanted'-
But you'll do everything that you can to make sure he's gonna enjoy this week just as much as you know you will.
◇━━━━━━━━━━X♡X♡━━━━━━━━━━━◇
You're both having breakfast, simple foods on the table, and in a way, it feels almost domestic. You already don't want to ever leave his home ever again- everything's so calm and it feels almost.. surreal. You've never felt like this. Up until now, you've always been somewhat stressed about things, so much so that it's become normal to you. The pressure of work, someone ringing the doorbell even if it's just the mailman, your boss calling you into office every now and then- pressure and stress have always been there for you. So, in a way, this calm and carefree bubble you're currently in, is intimidating you.
A lot.
"Have you ever given head before?" Jungkook asks suddenly, making you choke on your glass of water, making him pat your back with a grin on his face. "Sorry, I should've waited until you were done drinking." He laughs, and you slowly catch your breath again.
"I uh- tried but it was awkward really quickly so he.. kind of told me not to.." you reply to him, your words growing quieter towards the end. He feels an odd sense of pity for you- not really in a demeaning manner, but more so in a way of empathy. After all, he's been through a bad relationship in the past too- one that had given him major insecurities from himself and his body, issues he needed time for to solve them for himself. He feels for you. You should've never had to experience those things.
But if he can do anything to help you heal, he will do it.
"Did you not like it?" He asks casually, eating the simple breakfast food he's made earlier. He's so at ease with these things that you can't help but be as well- shrugging.
"I.. don't remember." You answer honestly. "I'm not sure anymore. I think.. like, the idea of doing it with you seems a bit intimidating, but not.. unattractive, you know?" You say, carefully lifting your gaze to look at him, who's lips are slowly turning upwards at the corners as he chews his food.
"Would you like to try? After we're done eating?" He asks, and you nod. It's another sign that you're growing more comfortable with him- clear answers falling more freely from you, you're no longer as eager to make sure you keep your true intentions hidden. And while he knows you still hold back a lot, he still appreciates the steps you're taking towards him.
Because it makes him eager to finally take your hand and never let go.
"You know.." You start, slowly, and he let's you go at your own pace for a moment, not pressuring you by looking at you or anything. He knows you're easily intimidated and pushed backwards whenever you try and jump over your own shadow in any way, so he tries to keep things as comfortable as he can for now. Just like he said, he's getting to know you, after all- not only on a physical level, but an emotional one as well. He's got the unique opportunity to really look behind the scenes of your otherwise always carefree nature you put up.
He wants this simple act to become a reality with him. He wants to be able to actually make you feel relaxed, and comfortable, and not so stressed all the time. Because he felt it. In the tense muscles of your body, in your need to somehow prove to him that you can be independent, and even before he got to touch you he's known. You seem awfully terrified of relying on someone, of trusting, or simply letting someone else take the reigns. You never truly let yourself go, and while he wants to know why- this week, he's rather gonna focus on showing you that he can be a safe zone for you.
He can't erase what memories you've already made. He can't undo what's happened to you- but he can make sure that your future experiences will outweigh any bad past you're carrying around.
"How about we.. uhm.." You start, instantly gaining his attention. You seem to think deeply before you bite on your bottom lip, a nervous habit he's already noticed. He does it too, mostly with his piercings- so he's in no position to try and scold you for it. "Like, I feel like you're not.. uh.." You don't know how to say it, and it's clear to him. He wonders what you want to say. He's not- what? What do you want him to do?
"You know you can be honest with me." He chuckles. "Really. If there's anything I'm doing that's not comfortable to you, you should actually said it." he offers, and you nod, putting your cutlery down before you lean back on your hands.
"It just.." You still struggle clearly. "You're the.. dom, right?" You ask, and he nods. "But, it doesn't really feel like it?" You carefully phrase, probably because you don't want to scratch his ego in case he'd feel attacked. But he's not so fragile. He won't break from a simple observation like that.
Mostly, because you're right. And that's been a calculated move from the very start.
"I don't want to overwhelm you, simply." He shrugs. "I hardly think you would've enjoyed our first experience together if I was to push you around and bark orders at you, would you?" He jokes almost, and you nod after thinking about it.
He's right. That would've probably more or less traumatized you.
"But we can definitely increase the intensity, if you want to." Jungkook offers casually. "I go at your pace, after all."
"But is that even enjoyable to you then?" You wonder, a bit insecure. "Isn't it boring?" You ask, and he shakes his head.
"Trust me-" He smiles, collecting the empty dishes on the table. "-having sex with the person you love is never boring." He winks, before he takes your dishes too, and brings them into the kitchen to wash them.
All while you're left stunned by his words spoken so effortlessly and out in the open as if they were nothing.
You wonder when you'll be able to do that.
◇━━━━━━━━━━X♡X♡━━━━━━━━━━━◇
It's only Tuesday, and for some reason, sex has already begun to feel.. almost natural with Jungkook.
He doesn't make it into an awkward show, or something you need to endlessly prepare for- and neither does he keep it strictly bound to one place or setting like you've known it to be in the past. Jungkook is a free spirit- and it shows in the way he approaches sex and intimacy.
It's odd, how you're already noticing that.
"Now remember, Tiger stops everything. Saying it is nothing bad, it won't make things awkward-" he recites to you, as he crawls onto the couch, already shirtless. "-well simply calm down, clean up, and talk about what made you use it. Not to put you on a pedestal-" he continues, and you nod.
"-But to communicate and learn, I know." You reassure him, and he smiles, tapping below your chin.
"Good Girl." He teases, probably accidentally making your heart jump.
Whenever he says things like this, does things like this, you feel like you're actually falling in love with him. And that's fine, right? After all, he wants to love you too.
He's just waiting for you, patiently.
"Alright. Eyes on me from now on." He demands, commanding tone making it clear that the scene has begun- and the excitement of it easily begins to bubble up in your veins, filling your bloodstream with warmth and anticipation, while he moves, buckle of his belt jingling a little as he discards his pants- and you just know, from the way he moves, that he's also stripping off the rest of his clothes.
But you stay strong, even though your eyes desperately want to wander lower, curiosity spreading as he moves to sit behind you, when you feel something cool but soft against your wrists he's holding behind your back. "Remember-" he lowly speaks. "-If you feel like you'll panic, say the word." He reminds you one last time, before he pulls his pelt tight, experienced movements of his hands binding together yours, making you unable to use them anymore.
And then, you feel his lips. Faintly, almost teasing, pecking your skin, from the spot where your wrists rest straight up your spine to the back of your neck.
You shiver, but not from the cold. He chuckles as if to answer, before he moves to sit down with his back against the headrest of the pull out couch you've slept on with him last night, reaching out to you.
His hand on your chin, thumb almost gently running over your bottom lip, before he dares to make you open your mouth, his finger on your tongue. Throughout it all, your eyes stay on him, just like he told you they should, and you can feel something happening to you you didn't know was possible.
You feel like you're reaching your peak just from this alone- the sight of him, your hands bound behind your back, the knowledge that he's entirely bare in front of you. You want to see him.
But you wait. He's in charge, after all.
"So pretty.." he chuckles with eyes dark, licking his own bottom lip until the tip of his tongue plays with his piercing a little, while he watches you struggle to stay calm. His hand leaves your face, before he seems to think-
Just for a second though. He won't go there yet- slow steps, steady progress, no rush, he reminds himself.
"Look at you, so patient." He praises, and your breathing picks up at the sound of his words, eyes sparkling. You're so cute, he thinks to himself. Dangerous, most of all. "Tell me what you want." He commands, and you swallow, before you speak.
".. you." You answer. He chuckles.
"I'm right here." He snickers, amused.
"No, like.. I want-" you say, looking down his chest, his stomach, muscle defined as you reach his belly button, before the prominent V-Line greets your vision, soon followed by his hard length fully erect.
It twitches once, and you can't look away.
"Eyes up, darling." He demands, and your gaze snaps back up, earning a pleased smile. "Good Girl." He grins. "Now, I'll ask again. What do you want?" He asks, and you have to physically force the words out of you.
"I want you inside my mouth.." you tell him, and he tilts his head to the side, faking innocence.
"You'll have to be more specific, darling." He purrs down at you, hand around your neck angling your face upwards to straighten your back, fixing your posture for you. It helps- though the simple touch around your throat makes you clench around nothing, oddly enough. It's clear that he's slowly increasing the intensity of the powerplay- no longer as easy to convince.
You've probably already leaked onto the sheets underneath you. And you couldn't care less.
Maybe it's the way he's gotten you to straighten your back in an almost confident position. Maybe it's the praise getting to your head. Or maybe you're just being consumed by your own lust. But suddenly, your words aren't so hard to say out loud any longer as you speak.
"I want to please you." You say, and it catches him off guard a little. "Please let me have it.." you plead, and in this moment, he doesn't care that you're technically still not speaking out what you want specifically. He really couldn't care less.
How could he, with a goddess Aphrodite on her knees right in front of him, asking to pleasure him?
"Go ahead, darling." He says, finally offering his permission. "Let's see what you have to offer, hm?" He teases with a low purr in his tone, and at that, you realize you've received the green light from him.
And quite honestly, suddenly you don't care anymore if you've ever given head- because after all, Jungkook will guide you. Jungkook will use you in any way he deems right.
And you don't mind one bit.
You're not to sure what you're doing, but you're going small steps at a time, threading carefully to check what works and what doesn't. It's intimidating, yes- but not in a bad way. More like, you know what you want, you got the goal right in sight of you, but the road there seems a bit tough to navigate.
But you'll figure it out. You'll earn his praise, his affection, and most of all-
The sight of his face bathed in pleasure.
You lick the very tip as if to taste first, eyes looking up at him to check if there's any change in his expression- but he just watches you for now, not much to be seen on his face yet. Only when you wrap your lips around the head of his cock does he lean his head back, eyes closed and lips parted, and you know that while yes, you're getting what you wanted-
It's not enough. You want to see more.
Your wrists struggle for a second as you're reminded that they're out of order for now- and instead of starting to panic like you thought you might, you instead think of any other way you could use your mouth on him. You don't want to be boring.
If you're boring he might just not want you.
And you want him to want you.
Rolling your tongue around his head, you notice the way the muscles in his lower stomach contract- a clear reaction, face also scrunched up in what you know must be a positive reaction-
Because he's smiling, after all.
You're taking him deeper and deeper, testing your own limits, and its really making him use up all his willpower not to grab your hair and fuck your mouth. Your lips are shiny with your saliva, you're slowly easing that tension in your bones too- you're becoming comfortable, and that alone is reward enough.
That, and your goddamn tongue running over his cock like a succubus.
You're not sure how to properly stimulate him considering you can't fit much of him in your mouth, so you occasionally let him pop out just to lick the rest of him base to tip. You like the way it makes his breath hitch.
"So good." He praises, breathes out mostly as you hold him flat on your tongue, swallowing around him.
And he gasps out at that, a moan escaping him that sounds so forbidden that it sends pleasure right down your core. You do it again, and it makes his face scrunch up, teeth biting his bottom lip as he starts to look concentrated on something.
"You can spit it out." He says, and for a second you're not sure what he's saying, having just started to play around with sucking the head slightly, when his thighs seem to struggle keeping still, a drawn out groan escaping him as his release shoots into your mouth.
You drink him up, and he can't help but laugh.
You really are dangerous, a demon in disguise.
The moment you let him go, you lick your lips, although the bitter taste makes you involuntarily cringe slightly. He can't help but chuckle in endearment at the sight, moving in his position to kiss your cheek, jaw and neck, tongue running over your skin it feels like, his kisses both incredibly dirty but sweet.
It makes you feel butterflies, and they're just as excitedly fluttering around as your body is as soon as his hand finds its way between your legs.
"So wet- desperate to get off, aren't you?" He asks, and you nod, easily falling onto your back to lift your legs as he strips off your underwear, clear strings of arousal clinging to the fabric for a moment before its discarded somewhere you don't care. "Look at that pretty cunt." He chuckles, hand easily moving, fingers dipping between your lower lips to cover themselves in your juices, every motion smoothly gliding. Two of them enter your achingly empty core, and he feels you clench around his digits already as he moves them in and out. "So soft and warm.. makes me wanna bury myself balls deep inside it." He says, and you whine at the thought of it.
You want it. No matter if you can't take it- you want it.
He takes out his fingers just for a moment to teasingly tap your clit, making you kick out your legs in frustration as he keeps on providing never enough friction or stimulation to truly get you off.
"Please-" you beg, out of breath. "-please make me cum!" You tell him, and the corners of his lips move upwards at your first true demand voiced out clearly.
"You wanna cum, huh.." he hums almost to himself, when he moves to perk your butt up on his thigh, before his hand cups your heat for a moment, as if to contemplate what to do next.
And then his fingers are back inside, curling and moving rapidly, heel of his palm finally giving you that friction you've been seeking. But it's fast, it's rough, and while you don't say the word that would stop it, you're unsure what's happening to yourself.
"Let go." He tells you, free hand grabbing one of your tits to let his thumb run over your perked up nipple. "You wanted to cum-" he almost mocks you, "so cum." He demands, and that you do.
You don't know what exactly happens, but you know that he doesn't seem to mind it, so it's probably nothing bad.
Wet sounds suddenly echo off the walls as he moves a bit slower, pushes you through your orgasm and straight into another, softer one that doesn't make you almost deaf and blind. It soothes you a little, until the sting of overstimulation makes your hips jump.
You only barely notice his palm soothingly running up and down your thigh now, having let go of your still throbbing cunt as you recover from whatever that was, sheets visibly darkened below you while his hand and forearm are glistening with liquid.
You can see him smile down at you, and that's enough. You don't need to understand anything to just enjoy his affectionate eyes on you.
◇━━━━━━━━━━X♡X♡━━━━━━━━━━━◇
You're in the bathtub, when you inspect your wrists, his own hands carefully holding them, thumb running over the red marks left. They'll fade soon, you know that- and it makes you almost sad, looking at them.
"Leather is a bit rough." He hums in thought. "I'll use something softer next time." He offers, moving your wrists closer to his face to kiss the skin there.
"Its fine.." you say quietly, voice echoing off the tiled walls of his bathroom. "I like.. this." You say, and he chuckles.
"Me kissing you, or the marks on your skin?" He wonders, and you shrug, water moving a bit.
"Both." You say, looking up at him from over your shoulder.
"Noted." He jokes, though you can see something sparkle in his eyes. "Though, I gotta say.." he says, moving a bit as the water sloshes around, "...that was quite impressive for a first-timer." He jokes, and you roll your eyes, face turning red.
"I didn't even know what I was doing." You deny, making him laugh openly.
"Well, once you know what you're doing you're gonna send me straight to the moon then." He exaggerates playfully. "That'll be an out-of-body experience!" He tells you, and you just lean back into his chest, shrugging.
"Well, I've got five more days to work on my skills." You proudly say, and he nods quietly.
"Only five?" He teases, and you groan.
"Yeah.." you hum, looking up at him. "Tonight I just wanna.. cuddle?" You ask, and he nods softly down at you, arms wrapping around your shoulders.
"Cuddling it is then." He tells you, reaching over your shoulder to drain the tub of the soapy water.
And true to his word, the rest of the day is in fact spent mostly domestic and without any further mention of any.. adult activities, until a question begins to bother you, as you watch him scroll for something to watch on his TV. "Hey, Jungkook?" You wonder, and he raises his brows, humming a reply to you that shows his peaked interest in what you've got to say. "Isn't it.. gonna be, I don't know.." You mumble, unsure how to phrase it. "How come we haven't had.. sex yet?" You ask, and he looks confused for a moment, before he looks at you, task immediately abandoned at your words.
"I'm not sure if I follow." He jokes. "I'm pretty sure we had sex just a few hours earlier? When you squirted-" He starts but you wave him off like an annoying insect in panic, making him laugh at your shy antics.
"No no no, that's not-" You shakes your head, before you clarify. "That's not- like, proper sex. You know." You try to get him onto the right path, and he leans back into the couch, crossing his arms.
"Ah-" He hums out after a moment of contemplating what you've said, finally processing it correctly. "Okay, I get what you mean now. Though I've gotta correct you-" he says, putting down the remote to the TV for now. "-I don't have to put my dick in you to be able to call it sex." He corrects you in a gentle way, before he uncrosses his arms, turning his body more towards you. "But I have a feeling that's not entirely your point." he continues, and you shrug.
"I don't know how to explain it." You complain. "Like, even if I'm gonna like everything you do this week-" You offer, trying to convey your feelings properly. "-I'm still not gonna be able to.. have that kind of sex with you." You say, and he scrunches up his brows for a second, before he shakes his head.
"Doesn't mean we can't try." He tells you. "Is that something you'd want?" He asks, and you nod. "No, I mean- is that something you'd like to do? Don't just say yes because you think I'll need that from you to feel satisfied. I can think of numerous different ways to get myself off with your help, don't you worry about that." He chuckles, especially when you grow clearly flustered by his blunt way of talking about this entire topic.
"I already know I can't do it." You deflate, averting your eyes. "I told you- it didn't work-" You start, but he shakes his head.
"Just because it didn't work with him, doesn't mean anything." He denies. "There's tons of reasons you weren't able to take him. Maybe actual size, maybe poor preparation, maybe you were too tense, maybe all of it- we'll never truly know." He shrugs his shoulders. "Trust me when I tell you, that if you want to try, I'm gonna make sure I'll use any way I know of to make it as comfortable as I can." He offers, but you don't seem too convinced.
"But you're- like, a lot bigger than him." You say, probably unaware how that fuels Jungkook's ego in secret, as he suppresses a smirk.
"So?" He asks, unable to see your point. "I'm not like him. I actually care about my partner's pleasure together with my own. You'll just have to trust me, and I'll make sure to try any way to make it work." He offers, and after a moment or two, you nod.
"Okay." You say. "I want to.. try then. Like, not right now- but, I don't know. At some point." You nod, and he grins brightly, nodding as well.
"I'll keep it in mind."
◇━━━━━━━━━━X♡X♡━━━━━━━━━━━◇
"You're still awake." He notes as he sits down on the edge of the pulled out sofa, having left his bedroom to grab a glass of water in the middle of the night, and you sigh, admitting it with that reaction. "What's on your mind?" He asks, and you shrug, turning towards him.
It'd be selfish to ask him to sleep in the same bed with you again, right? After all, this week is about sex, and finding out if you're.. physically compatible, so to say. Or maybe not even that. He'd just said he wants to convince you of his ways, not that he'd be with you at the end of this week. Have you lost that out of sight, already?
It's only Tuesday, and you're already somewhat regretting things. It feels weird, like that feeling of disappointment you get when thinking of a past experience or achievement you missed out on because you'd been simply stupid or selfish.
This doesn't mean anything to him. He's just so caring because that's what he's like with everyone he fucks.
"Nothing." You say, refusing to open up to him, and he doesn't know what brought that on. He's not sure what he's supposed to do now- after all, you both agreed to exploring each other on an intimate level, but you didn't actually clarify if you wanted to explore anything romantic either. He doesn't want to overstep a line for you, doesn't want to push anything you wouldn't feel comfortable with.
But at the same time, he can't help but feel like you're constantly reaching out for his heart, though careful, and unsure.
"If it keeps you up at night it's not nothing." He declines your answer, reaching out to adjust one of the pillows so it doesn't hide your face from him. "Tell me. I can't help if I don't know what's going on." He reminds you, and you stay still for a moment or two, clock on the wall of his open kitchenette ticking the only sound in the apartment for a good while.
"I think I-" You start, unable to finish that sentence how you'd like to.
I think I'm falling in love with you.
"I think I don't want to sleep alone." You instead say out loud, sounding horribly selfish in your own ears. But he just chuckles and nods, patting the blanket you're under.
"Scoot over then." He teases, making you move just like he'd requested, before he sneaks underneath the blanket where you're already warm and cozy. "You know you can tell me anything, right?" He asks quietly, as you look at him in the darkness of the apartment.
You nod, silently, hoping he sees.
He does- but he doesn't believe in it. There's something on your mind you're not telling him, and he knows he's gonna have to coax it out of you at some point this week, because there's this odd feeling in his chest that suspects, and maybe even hopes, that what he himself is feeling might just be what you're battling with as well.
And he wants to hear you say it.
He wants you to love him.
1K notes · View notes
solar-wing · 15 days
Text
⚣ It's Not A Competition 🥇
Tumblr media Tumblr media
⚣👊🏻 A/N → SURPRISE! double post today! I've been wanting to do a Clark Kent post forever but never had any good ideas. Then, this popped into my mind. Also, I'm really trying to clear out my drafts and any old requests. WARNINGS: Canon-Typical Violence | Jealousy | Established Relationship
⚣👊🏻 Summary → Dark Knight this and Dark Knight that. What about Superman?! He's also a great hero! Better than Batman, at least. The guy doesn't even have powers. But that's what makes him more interesting and cool, according to Y/N. And frankly, Clark has had quite enough and intends to show him why Superman is way better than Batman.
⚣👊🏻 Words → 4.7K
REBLOGS & replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛
⚣ ENJOY 👊🏻
Tumblr media
Clark just didn’t get it.
Why was it that Y/N was so obsessed with Batman and not Superman? All the young reporter ever talked about was the Dark Knight and how he was so cool and mysterious. Going on and on about his awesome gadgets and the fact that he had no powers, which made him so interesting.
Clark very much would beg to differ.
“You know, Superman can shoot lasers out of his eyes, and I heard he can move faster than the speed of sound,” Clark pointed out while walking with Y/N down the sidewalk. They decided to go out for lunch and since the Daily Planet was so close to one of Y/N's favorite restaurants downtown, he figured, why not just walk together?
“Clark, not this again,” Y/N chuckled while sipping his drink.
“I’m sorry, you just always talk about how great Batman is, and I’m not saying he’s bad, but I don’t get how he’s better than Superman?”
“You know, you’re starting to sound like Lois with all your Superman praise and comparison.”
“Well, she’s not wrong. I mean, come on. What can Batman do that Superman can’t?” Clark asked, looking down at his boyfriend while waiting for an answer.
“Batman’s quicker on his feet. He thinks of solutions faster and more creatively than what I’ve seen from Superman. Plus, he’s resourceful. The guy’s got a freaking jet. The only people I could think of that own jets and planes and all the crazy gadgets he has would probably be Lex Luthor or Bruce Wayne.”
Clark tried not to react to the irony of that statement, rather focusing on how he could combat that logic even though it was true. He had to admit that his comrade, whether in the field or in practice, was very good at analyzing a situation and using whatever he had around him to his advantage.
Still, it didn’t mean he was better than him.
“Well, Superman can also fly, and as many have witnessed, is crazy strong.”
“Yes, he is. But if Batman can afford a jet, I’m pretty sure he can afford a jetpack, too. Plus, we all know how strong Superman is, some more than others. Their insurance claims can definitely speak to how strong he is.”
That last line Y/N said was more so to himself than as a statement to Clark. However, it didn’t take away the slight sting from his words, considering how true they were.
“So you’re saying Superman is reckless and bad at his job or something?” Clark accused.
“What? No, I’m not saying that at all. Why are you getting so defensive about this? You’re acting as if you know the guy. Wait, do you know him?” Y/N asked, now looking up at his giant of a boyfriend.
Sometimes, he wondered what kind of genes ran in Clark’s family. It was a bit of a puzzle to Y/N why the six-foot-something man was in journalism rather than something that seemed more his speed, like fitness or athletics.
“No, of course not. I just don’t think it’s fair or even logical to compare Superman to someone like Batman, considering what each of them has respectfully achieved, not to mention the state of their cities and everything. I mean, have you ever been to Gotham before?” Clark asked, doing his best to not draw any more curiosity or suspicion out of the younger male.
Not that he was doing a good job of that in the first place.
Clark just wished he could’ve shown Y/N why Superman was better than Batman. They’d only been dating for a few months so it wasn’t reasonable or even smart for the Kryptonian to consider revealing his identity to him, no matter how much he wanted to.
“Clark, it’s not a competition. You know that, right?” Y/N said, placing his hand on Clark’s arm.
They paused in their steps, Clark looking down at the gentle hand lying across his forearm before looking up into the eyes that always put him under a spell. He smiled to himself, thinking of the fact that even if Y/N favored Batman over Superman, Clark was still the real winner, because he had him.
He took his hand in his own, doing his best to contain his excitement pulse at the feeling of his larger hand surrounding the smaller one in his grip. Y/N was still a male, so his hand wasn’t dainty or small by any means, but compared to Clark’s, it might as well have been.
“Yeah, I know. Sorry, I got a little bit crazy.” Clark apologized with a small kiss on the shorter man’s hand causing a slight blush to appear on the smaller male’s cheeks.
“It’s ok. Besides, I like a little bit of crazy. Keeps things interesting.” Y/N said before continuing their walk towards Clark’s place of work.
‘You have no idea,’ Clark thought to himself as he followed behind, letting himself be tugged along.
Tumblr media
They returned to the Daily Planet to find everywhere in a buzz, chattering excitedly with each other as various individuals were either running to the bathroom with pouches of makeup and skincare and others at their desks touching up their hair and clothes.
“What’s going on?” Clark asked aloud as he strode into the office while still holding Y/N’s hand.
“Was it like this when we left?” His boyfriend asked, chuckling at the comical movements and gestures of the rushing to get re-ready for whatever was happening.
“No, it was actually the opposite,” The reporter stated before eventually spotting Lois at her desk, who was also touching up her makeup and hair. He made his way over to the desk area, narrowly avoiding multiple people rushing while pulling Y/N closer to him to keep him from getting bumped into.
“Lois, what’s going on?”
“Oh, hey, Smallville. Hello, Y/N. Didn’t you both get the emergency email Perry sent to everyone earlier?” She said in her usual fast-paced, business tone while curling her eyelashes.
“No, We were at lunch. What was the email about?”
“Oh, Clark. Must I always have to save your butt?” Lois said before handing her phone over to the man, Y/N chuckling behind him at the comment.
Clark threw him a look while Y/N did his best to keep a neutral face before reading over the email.
“Bruce Wayne is coming to the Daily Planet?”
Y/N's eyes went comically large at the mention, immediately jumping to read the email for himself, “No way!”
Lois smirked to herself before grabbing her phone back from the man, while Clark just stared at his boyfriend in jealous shock from his excited outburst. “Yep. Wayne Enterprises has announced its support of various major liberal movements and is donating large proceeds to different organizations calling for massive change in the nation. And with this being an election year, many political figures and business entities are feeling a little uneasy at this sudden new support from the tech giant. And yours truly, landed the exclusive interview with him to get all the nitty and gritty details .”
Y/N’s eyes were almost bugging out of his head, before he ran to the bathroom himself, snatching his hand from Clark’s who looked desperately after him.
“Dammit, Bruce.” The reporter growled under his breath.
“You say something?” Lois asked while powdering her nose.
“No,” Clark responded gruffly, an irritated glint in his eye before walking to his own desk.
Tumblr media
After everyone has ridiculously made themselves extra presentable, including Y/N much to Clark’s annoyance, the pair stand outside the room with a few others, watching through the glass pane walls as the interview is broadcast live to the entire nation. Lois asked Mr. Wayne various questions, ranging from his real intentions behind his charitable donations to whether he was looking to begin any political endeavors and win the favor of the public.
Bruce answers every question with confidence and suaveness, leaving no room for questions about his actions, and denies any political motivations. Y/N watched impressed from the other end while Clark just looked around with a grim and irritated look, his arms crossed as he listened to the interview and watched his boyfriend fanboy over his secret comrade.
“Well, you certainly seem like the charming and noble benefactor, Mr. Wayne. I can see why you're known as ‘Gotham’s Favorite Son.’ I have to ask though, even if you truly have no political ambitions, aren’t you worried that these donations and announcements along with the unwavering stance you’ve taken on these political topics will inevitably place a target on you?” Lois asked, notepad and pen sitting with poise and precision, ready to take down every little thing the billionaire said.
“Wow, I can see why she’s so respected. She’s nailing this interview.” Y/N commented.
Clark nodded to that. Even if he wasn’t feeling the most agreeable at the moment, he’d always give hats off to Lois’ skills. The woman was a powerhouse when it came to this stuff.
“Well, first off, thank you for your earlier comment. I don’t think of myself as anyone’s favorite, but even I can’t control what the public says or does,” Bruce responded with his ever-so-billion-dollar smile, earning a laugh from Lois and probably every other American tuning into this broadcast, including Y/N.
Clark, however, wasn’t impressed. He’d heard funnier.
“But, to answer your question,” Bruce continued, “...any move in the business or even the political world I imagine can be considered a risky one. I’m not going to pretend that my decisions have made some very happy, and others very unhappy. That’s life. You can’t please everyone. But, to sit and accept things as the way they are for fear of retaliation or backlash is misery in itself. I believe anyone who doesn’t speak up for what they truly believe or want for fear of ‘rocking the boat’ is just content with living in their own misery. And, let me be clear before I’m canceled—I know the meaning behind that now thanks to my kids, particularly my two youngest sons—I’m not saying someone who’s genuinely content and happy with where they are is included in this. I’m specifically talking to those who want change, and want to create a better world, but are waiting for others to do it for them.”
Despite its clichéness, many in the hall gave a small clap to the CEO’s words, Y/N looking thoroughly impressed himself.
“Wow, he really is an inspiring man,” Y/N commented.
“He’s alright,” Clark said in response.
Y/N gave the taller man a suspicious side look, “Alright, what’s going on with you? You’ve been standing there pouting
since this interview started. What, do you not like Bruce Wayne or something?"
Clark sighed before looking down at his boyfriend. It was true, he wasn't really liking the guy at the moment. But, it was just because he was so jealous. He didn’t like how Y/N was looking at him, or how he was talking about him.
It wasn't fair.
The reporter wanted Y/N to be looking at him and only him like that, and he wanted his attention and affection, and he wanted him to only talk about him like that. It was petty, and it was selfish, but Clark didn’t care.
He just wanted Y/N to only admire Clark Kent. not Bruce Wayne.
Only Superman, not Batman.
Despite Y/N's earlier words about it not being a competition, Clark knew the truth. It was a competition, one he was not planning on losing.
"No, I don't not like him. I'm just not that impressed, is all. He's not a superhero." Clark said.
"Neither is Lex Luthor. But, that doesn't stop the public from making him the villain in his story. I'm sure there's a lot more to Bruce Wayne than the media is letting on."
"Oh, trust me. There's more to him than what meets the eye," Clark mumbled to himself as the interview was getting ready to wrap up.
"Well, on behalf of the Daily Planet, I'd like to thank you for joining us today. Your words are certainly ones that will not go unheard by many. I look forward to—"
Before Lois could finish speaking, the lights in the building suddenly went out, leaving the office pitch black. A few people in the hall gasp, Y/N instinctively grabbing Clark's arm, who in turn places his hand over the smaller man's own.
"What's going on?" Someone asks.
"I don't know. It's almost like a blackout, but it can't be because we have backup generators. They should've turned it on by now." Another responded.
"Clark, what's going on?" Y/N asked toward his boyfriend, who was holding the smaller male closer to him out of instinct.
"I'm not exactly sure..."
Just as he said that, the lights came back on, and everyone was looking around confused as to what the source of the blackout was.
"Oh my god!" One of the people in the hall screamed suddenly as everyone turned back towards the interview room. Inside the room, some members of the crew suddenly had masks with insignias covering their faces on them. One of them was behind Lois holding a dagger to her neck while another stood to the side, pointing a gun directly at Bruce's head.
"I'm so sorry to interrupt, Ms. Lane," The individual in the middle of the room said, "But, this interview isn't over just yet."
"Who the hell are you people?!" Lois asked, fear and anger in her eyes as the blade was held to her neck.
"Wouldn't you like to know? As for Mr. Wayne, we're going to have a little chat. I suggest you and your friends don't follow or intervene. Otherwise, this broadcast won't be the only thing getting cut" The masked individual threatened, nodding to Lois.
"Don't you dare touch her," Bruce warned, his expression serious, as he got ready to stand.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Mr. Wayne. We wouldn't want anything bad to happen, now would we? Especially with all of America watching right now."
Bruce sat back down, knowing that his opponent was right. He couldn't let them hurt Lois, and he certainly couldn't risk any lives in this room.
"Don't worry, Mr. Wayne. We'll make this quick," The leader said as one of the other masked goons went to lock the door that led inside the interview room.
"Clark, we have to do something," Y/N said, his heart racing a mile a minute.
"I know. Stay here. I'll be back." Clark said before running off, leaving the smaller male alone.
"What? Clark, wait! Where are you going?" Y/N called after him, but the taller man didn't hear him, already too far away.
'What the hell is he doing?' Y/N thought to himself before turning his attention back towards the situation in front of him.
As Clark rounded the corner and made his way down the hallway, he made sure no one was watching him before he ran as fast as he could into the supply closet. Once inside, he quickly changed into his suit before taking off through the backdoor.
"So, how does it feel knowing that you're on the side of the wrong? How does it feel knowing that no matter what you do, you'll never be able to fix the mess you made? All the lives lost because of you," The masked man asked Bruce, who was sitting calmly in his chair, his eyes not showing an ounce of fear.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Of course you don't. None of you wealthy elites do. You don't know the pain and suffering your companies and your products cause to others. You don't know the misery you cause. Well, allow us to show you." The man said before signaling his partners.
One of them immediately moved and grabbed a hold of the camera, pointing it directly at the masked man in the center.
"Hello, Metropolis. And hello, America. If you're watching this, that means you're just as much a part of this as we are. if you've been sitting here listening to the lies and promises of a better world by this man and his kind, you are as much a part of his schemes as he is. It is because of people like him that we have the world we live in. It's because of people like him that so many of us suffer. It's because of people like him that the world will only continue to rot and decay until there is nothing left but a pile of ashes. But, we will not be the ones who burn. We will not be the ones who lose. We will not be the ones who suffer, not anymore. Today, we fight back. Today, we will show the world that we will not be silenced, we will not be oppressed. We will not allow the likes of him and his kind to continue to control us anymore with false promises of a better tomorrow while lining their own pockets. Today, we say enough is enough. Today, we rise. Today, we will take back what is rightfully ours. Today, we take back our freedom and our lives from the rich and corrupt." The man spoke, his words filled with conviction and determination, but also hatred and poison as he stared deep into the camera.
"And if any of you try to stop us, then you will be considered just as guilty as the rest of them. We will not be silenced. We will not be ignored. And if you think that the likes of Batman and Superman will save you, I wouldn't be too sure of that..."
As soon as the leader was done with his speech, the sound of the glass shattering was heard as Superman broke through the windows, flying into the room before stopping directly in front of the man holding the camera.
"But, I am..." The Man of Steel said, shooting a laser beam at the dagger being held by the goon threatening Lois. He immediately dropped the blade as it became too hot, giving the Daily Planet reporter the opportunity she needed to escape his hold.
"Bastards," She cursed, turning around and delivering a kick to the masked man's groin.
He groaned out in pain, falling to the floor before Lois punched him in the face, knocking him out.
Superman turned his attention back toward the masked man standing in the center, "I believe it's time for you to take a hike."
"Not yet. We still have unfinished business," The man said before signaling his other henchman. The man immediately aimed his gun at the Kryptonian, firing shot after shot into him.
Superman stood his ground as the bullets hit him, before eventually, the gun ran out.
"You're right. This is definitely the end," Superman said as he flew toward the man, knocking him out before he could reload his gun.
As Superman finished off the last of the henchmen, the leader turned back towards the camera, "Sorry, Superman. But, the damage has already been done. I hope you enjoyed this little taste of what's to come."
Before the Kryptonian could stop him, the man took out a smoke bomb, throwing it onto the ground and covering the room in a cloud of smoke.
"Crap," Superman cursed, unable to see as the man escaped.
As the smoke began to clear, Bruce took out his phone, "Alfred, I need you to track this signal."
"Understood, sir. I've also informed the police and they're on their way," Alfred responded.
"Good," Bruce said before turning back towards the room.
The actual camera crew was not out in the hall, hugging their co-workers who were all relieved at their safety. The broadcast was cut from the air, but there was no doubt every TV station from here to San Francisco was talking about it. Y/N was standing nearby, his eyes filled with awe and admiration as he stared up at Superman.
There was something oddly familiar about him.
...
Nah.
"That was incredible, Mr. Wayne," Lois said.
"I could say the same thing about you. I'm glad you're ok."
Lois smiled at him, "You were worried about me?"
"Of course. Why wouldn't I?" Bruce asked, a small smile forming on his lips.
Lois blushed slightly before turning back to look at Superman, who was now standing right in front of the two.
"Thank you for the save, Superman," Lois said, extending her hand out to the Kryptonian.
"My pleasure," Superman said, shaking the woman's hand before his attention was drawn toward Bruce who just gave him an appreciative nod. Though the look in his eyes signaled they would definitely be communicating about things later.
As Bruce and Lois moved towards the hallway, Lois spotted Y/N who was standing close to the door peeking inside.
"Oh Y/N, there you are! Thank goodness, you're alright." Lois said, walking over to him and hugging him.
"Yeah, I'm ok. Are you?" He asked, looking up at the woman.
"I'm fine. I'm tougher than I look."
"That's good to hear. And, it's good to see you’re okay as well Mr. Wayne. That was scary." Y/N said, turning his attention to the billionaire.
"Yes, I'm glad I'm alright, too," Bruce said, his attention on Y/N.
"Oh, Bruce Wayne, this is Y/N L/N. He's one of our upcoming new reporters along with Clark Kent, who you've met before." Lois said, introducing the two.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Wayne," Y/N said, extending his hand out.
Bruce took it, giving the younger man a firm handshake, "The pleasure is all mine."
As the two looked at each other, Clark was standing nearby, his gaze focused on the two, his fists clenched.
'I swear to Rao...' He thought to himself, jealousy coursing through his body as he watched the two interact.
"So, Mr. Wayne, what do you think that was all about?" Y/N asked.
Bruce turned to look at the woman, an amused eyebrow raised, "He must be getting trained by you," He said, sparking a laugh from Lois and another eye roll from the Kryptonian before flying off, "And please, call me Bruce. Mr. Wayne makes me feel old."
"Bruce, then. What do you think that was all about?" Y/N asked again.
"Well, I can't be certain, but based on their words and their actions, I'd say they were a group of anarchists."
"Anarchists?"
"Yes. They're not an uncommon group. Many people are growing tired of the way things are in this country. With the state of the economy and the government, it's only a matter of time before things begin to boil over."
"So, you think this is going to happen more often?"
"I'm not sure. But, I have a feeling we haven't seen the last of them."
Y/N nodded his thoughts on the events that had transpired earlier.
"Y/N!" Clark called, interrupting the conversation.
"Clark, there you are! You had me worried sick," The smaller male said while hugging his boyfriend, missing the sharp look the taller man was throwing at the billionaire.
"I just went to alert the building security and the police. Seems everything turned alright though since Superman showed up," Clark said, wrapping an arm around the younger man's waist while still giving a side eye to Bruce who was watching with amusement.
"Yes, thank goodness he did. I'm sure we all owe him a huge thanks for his services."
"Yes, indeed we do. But, unfortunately, I must be going now. It was a pleasure meeting you, Y/N." Bruce said, extending his hand once more to the younger man, who took it, shaking it gently.
"It was a pleasure meeting you, too."
Bruce smiled at him before turning back to Lois, "And it was a pleasure seeing you again, Lois."
"Likewise, Mr. Wayne."
Bruce smirked, "I do believe we're a bit past the formalities now, Lois. Please, call me Bruce."
"Of course. Bruce." The woman replied, her tone flirty and her expression coy.
Y/N noticed this and turned to look at Clark, whose expression was blank as he looked on.
"Will do, Lois. I look forward to our next meeting," Bruce said before stopping in front of Clark.
"Good seeing you as well Clark, as short-lived as it was," Bruce said, extending his hand out for a handshake.
Clark reluctantly took it, the handshake lasting longer than was necessary.
"Likewise," Clark replied.
Bruce nodded, his eyes giving the reporter a knowing look before he was escorted out by security.
Once the billionaire was out of sight, Clark and Y/N decided to leave as well, making their way towards the elevator.
"Well, that was a crazy day," Y/N said.
"Yeah, tell me about it."
"Do you think Bruce Wayne knows Batman?"
Clark stopped mid-step, a shocked expression on his face as he looked down at his boyfriend.
"Are you serious right now? You can't be serious?" The taller man said with an indignant expression.
"What?"
"You're still thinking of Batman after Superman just came and saved everyone?"
"Well, yeah. I mean, he's a hero too. They both are. Besides, Superman is always getting most of the credit, don't you think? It would make sense if they were working together. You know, the world's greatest detective and the world's greatest hero, solving crime and catching the bad guys. Wouldn't that be so cool?" Y/N asked, his eyes gleaming with excitement at the thought.
"No, not really. I don't see why that would be a good idea," Clark said, rolling his eyes.
Y/N sighed, "Clark, remember what we talked about earlier about it not being a competition?"
Clark looked down at the smaller man, his eyes filled with frustration, "Yeah, but it doesn't mean you have to obsess over Batman. Superman is just as obsessed-worthy!"
"Clark, seriously, what is up with you? It's not like I want to marry him or something."
"You're acting like you want to," Clark mumbled under his breath.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"Look, Clark. I'm not going to say I'm not a fan of Batman. I mean, I think he's cool. But, that doesn't mean that I'm not a fan of Superman either. I'm a fan of both of them. I think they're both great heroes, and I think they both do good work."
"But, you don't think that Batman is cooler, or that he's better than Superman?" Clark asked, his expression pleading.
"I mean, I guess. But, why does that matter? Why are you so hung up about this?"
"Because, I—" Clark started before stopping, knowing he was about to give away his identity.
"You what?"
"I just want you to think of me, is all," Clark said, looking down at the ground, feeling a bit embarrassed.
Y/N's heart softened at the confession, the older man looking like a little kid who just got his favorite toy taken away. He stepped forward, cupping the taller man's face in his hands, causing him to look up.
"Clark, I do think about you. I think about you all the time and I love how protective you are of me. Whether I like Batman or Superman more isn't going to change that" Y/N said, trying his best to ease his boyfriend's fears.
"Promise?" Clark asked.
Y/N chuckled, "I promise."
"Good," Clark smiled while leaning down to place a kiss against his boyfriend's lips, "You should still like Superman more."
Y/N rolled his eyes, "Sure thing, Clark. I'll work on that."
"Thank you."
"Whatever. Now come on, we now have a celebratory date to go on." Y/N said as he grabbed Clark's hand.
"What are we celebrating?" Clark asked with a laugh as he was pulled towards the elevator.
It was always adorable watching the smaller male pull Clark around like it was nothing.
"Surviving our first criminal encounter together," Y/N said while hitting the first-floor button.
"First?"
"Honey, we live in a city with sky-high insurance because a superhero lives here. You really think this will be the last?"
He definitely doesn't.
Tumblr media
☀️ | Clark Kent/Superman | ☀️
☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️
245 notes · View notes
ystrike1 · 1 month
Text
Mystic Prince - By Aheuredal (8/10)
Tumblr media
Do you hate harems? Don't worry. There's loads of unrequited love here. Our female(?) Protagonist is a mystery. The entire story is a tournament arc. There's a bratty yandere, a loyal yandere who was sired by a loyal yandere Emperor, and a starving lovestuck demon. Mystic Prince is not just a yandere story. You will have to be in it for the action and intrigue, and the uncertainty.
I'm going to say it right out the gate.
There is no slavery in this one. Only voluntary servitude. In this particular fantasy setting Demons and Gods exist. Demons have white hair. Gods have black hair. The Gods grew emotionless. They stopped caring for humanity, so they gave humanity the power to protect itself as a final gift.
Tumblr media
Regular humans live for about a hundred years, but there are special demi-gods now! They can defend the humans and rule the land! Great! Also the Emperor is decided through various tests and trials, not by blood. Great! The Emperor must maintain a Barrier around his nation to protect it. If that barrier breaks well...chaos. So, that means the tests are extremely hard. Great!
Oh, did I mention that the Emperor must be male? Yes, there are NO female demigods. Only pretty priestesses who spend their entire lives in captivity, waiting for the chance to oversee the Emperor Tests.
The gods send down a signal 500 years late, because they really don't give a shit, and a new Emperor can finally be chosen.
One candidate is the handsome and heavily scarred Yeon. He always bathes alone, because the deep marks on his chest are disgusting to look upon. He wants to be Emperor so he can ascend to Godhood after his reign, and he plans to bring his half-demon attendant with him. Biseol struggles with the urge to eat his leige, whom he secretly loves. Biseol and Yeon are both outcasts. Underdogs. Unwanted. Yeon in particular seems to have a persecution complex, due to the abuse he faced for bring born female.
You see the gods made an error when they gave demigod powers only to male princes. Sexism is rampant in the glorious kingdom of Yeol. Can you imagine? You’re a wife in a great family, and you only birth girls. That means your family never, ever gets the chance to participate in the "fair and balanced" Emperor Tournament.
Women who give birth to too many girls are often thrown out because of this.
Tumblr media
The First Prince is the son of the current Emperor. Fair is fair....but a head start is a head start. Doha has struggled with his feelings for Yeon since he was a child. He is very much like his father. He struggles with the urge to follow his crush around. To be clear Yeon and Doha are not on speaking terms. Doha struggles with the idea of being attracted to a "man", and Yeon only sees Doha as competition...until he constantly starts sacrificing himself to save Yeon.
The most qualified prince actually isn't interested in becoming Emperor.
Tumblr media
Doha entered the tournament to look for answers. You see, his mother was a commoner. A mortal with red hair. Priestesses and the like usually marry Demigods because they can live about two hundred years, which is a little better than a pitiful human. She was the current Emperors only lover, ever, and by the way the Emperor is 1000 years old.
Yeol has lived in peace because it's what she wished for. Upon her death he planned to kill everyone and let demonkind into the kingdom.
His existence is torture. He has been longing for death ever since, but he does love Doha.
He knew Doha never wanted to be Emperor, so he shares the truth. His mother was never treated with respect. She was only happy with him, but the snakes in the castle never relented. She died shortly after giving birth to Doha.
Tumblr media
We meet a classic snake/cockroach type prince. He's kinda the weakest plot point. His stupidity pushes the plot forward too much, and he becomes a running joke. I think the story would have been better off without him.
Doha starts protecting Yeon because of idiots like him.
Tumblr media
Yeon also struggles with real, actual anger issues. She is no saint. Pursuing the throne to become truly immortal, instead of just long-lived, with your bestie is kinda really selfish. I do think Yeon would be a fine Emperor though. She's better than the morons. She wants respect and power, and she's highly capable.
Also, Yeon does identify as female.
She just can't....be that to be respected. It's awful. Her secret is extremely well kept. Her breasts have been completely cut off from what the art implies, and she packed on muscle during her fire training. The only giveaway is what's under her skirt, and that's why she bathes alone.
She hates to see Biseol disrespected, because he knows her. She can relax around him. By the way she only has fire power. The other princes, who are male, have the ability to use any element if they apply themselves. Yeon only has fire, and a demonic attendant who is sometimes more unstable than her.
Tumblr media
Yeon had a loving mother.
A little sister.
A father who wanted a son.
Being born female ruined her life. She was able to become a "prince" and obtain the long life Demigods have by lying and gaining the support of the weakest Sage. Every Prince has a Sage and an Attendant supporting them. That's why Yeon blends in. It's why nobody really suspects she's a woman. The lies run deep, and she does have support.
It just...feels fragile.
It may fall apart like a house of cards.
Tumblr media
Yeon is especially kind to women, because men are not. She uses her position of power to get justice for wronged women on several occasions. We see the ugly side of love, again and again.
We are left to wonder if Biseol or Doha would respect her opinion if she didn't have her powers.
Powers which were born from the unfair abuse she experienced. Yeon accidently burned up her entire family. The father she hated, and the mother she loved. Her baby sister too. She had no choice. It wasn't on purpose, but she wouldn't have died anyway.
Her father decided to kill her. Her sister and her mother too. He called them useless and he threw them out of the house. If Yeon didn't use her rage and fire she would have died in the street, with her mother.
Tumblr media
Hamil is a nasty example of a bratty yandere. Yeon trusts him and he takes advantage of them. Yeon thinks Hamil is cute and sunny. Hamil is the only prince Yeon is close friends with. Biseol knows Hamil is manipulative, but he doesn't tell Yeon...because Yeon would never believe it. Hamil is meticulous. Kind. Even the female servants love him, and that's how he catches Yeon. She sees sunny, bright Hamil innocently chatting with maids. Always kind to women (when she's around) and she trusts that.
Hamil knows she is a woman hiding her gender, and he does anything and everything to appear cute...to make her depend on him for comfort.
Tumblr media
Doha....gets over it but he's tempted by his own selfish desires for a long time. He wants to protect Yeon. He wants Yeon to choose him. He wants to be alone with Yeon. He doesn't want anybody else to touch Yeon. He doesn't want Biseol close to Yeon. He doesn't want Hamil close to Yeon.
He fails and fails. Yeon doesn't notice his love, because its so twisted and repressed.
Eventually, Doha decides to support her bid for the throne out of love. He decides to stop thinking only of himself. Yes, he is the endgame love interest. Who would have thought the second generation yandere who is also the most powerful would win. I totally didn't haha...
I'm kinda worried that Biseol will die or become the villain.
166 notes · View notes
luveline · 1 year
Note
ah I saw that you were asking for poly!m and like <3 <3 <3 I love them so much. loved your blurb of them with r and the chicken wire <3 if you're still asking, what about remus and r cheering for the boys at a sports thing and they're literally disgustingly sweaty but they all just love each other I'll cry
thank you for your request! you and your guys after a rugby win <3 fem!reader cw suggestive
Remus' hand is the only warmth to be found for a half a mile. 
"Come on, Sirius!" he bellows, pulling your hand along with his incensed movement. 
You look out at the field to find your boy, Sirius making a sprint for the end zone. If he can score this last try —five points for the team— he'll win the game. James is right behind him, and you think for a moment that Sirius is going to pass the ball back. 
Sirius isn't even supposed to be playing today. James had begged him as a favour after a freak disaster wherein no other players were available, and when Sirius does play its as a back, because he's fast and springy. And yet. Two threes down the field, nearly three quarters, Remus' hand tightening in yours, and– 
"Go on!" Remus shouts, the two of you flying to your feet. 
You scream something completely incoherent and bounce up and down, a high-pitched squeal that can't be helped. You're drowned out anyhow by the team's followers behind you. James' team isn't a Top 14 contender or anything but that doesn't mean they aren't good, or that the fans aren't out in droves today to see the game, held in your home stadium. The feat of Sirius' accomplishment is clear — the stands shake with cheering, and the clock counts down. The game is finished, and James' team has won. 
You and Remus are so excited, you scream until your throat hurts. 
"Remus, he did it!" you shout unnecessarily, turning to Remus, throwing your arms around his neck. 
"Oh god, we're never gonna hear the end of it!" he shouts back. 
It's not Sirius who won't let you hear the end of it. 
"Did you see him?" James asks when you reunite, changed into his new clothes but still, undeniably, dripping with sweat and adrenaline. "Did you see? He ran like the fucking wind." 
Sirius stands behind him. It's very obvious he's trying not to smile. 
You can't decide who to hug first but Remus makes the decision for you when he practically knocks Sirius down. 
"You fucking did it," Remus says. 
Sirius lets himself smile, then.
You sidle into James open arms and frame his face with your hands. "You played so well, Jamie, you must feel so proud of yourself." You brush sweat-slicked curls behind his ear unflinchingly. 
"We played amazing," he agrees, leaning down for a kiss. 
It's celebratory and congratulatory and also just mushy. You pull back and lean in again straight away,  deciding what you have to say will have to wait. You kiss and kiss and stroke his hair away from his face. He's not nearly as nice, post game roughness in the way his lips part under yours. You yank back before he can involve you in some unsavoury public snogging. 
"You played amazing James," you say, "you always do." 
"What's that supposed to mean?" 
You look over James' shoulder at a Sirius' pout. Remus still has an arm around his neck, but that's never stopped you before. You laugh and pretty much jump at Sirius' lean chest, pleased when Remus puts a hand over your back to steady you. 
"You know you played well," you say, brushing at Sirius' clean shaven cheek with a loving thumb. You beam at him, burying your face in the crook of his clammy neck. "Oh, you played so well. You're amazing. I'm so proud of you." 
You pull away from the two of them, and all four of you stand in a love bubble in the middle of the room, which you try not to do. It happens more often than you'd think. 
"Woah, wait," Sirius says. "I'm a gentleman, and I don't believe in coercion, but I do believe in fairness, and we all saw the way Prongs just laid into you–" 
"If you want a kiss, Sirius, you only have to ask," James says. 
You nibble your lip and move to Sirius again, feeling the slightest bit shy at his proclamation. You know that he wants to kiss you, as you want to kiss him, or Remus or James, but what Sirius doesn't always realise is that he's intimidating in his manner. Like Remus in bed, or James when he's tired, Sirius is always a little stern. He brings out your timidness. 
"He's put her on the spot," James says sympathetically. 
"Look at how cute she gets, every bloody time," Remus laments. 
You laugh under your breath and screw your eyes closed. Sirius doesn't make you suffer, simply leans down and kisses you, his attention to your top lip. It's definitely not the kind of kiss you should share in public, not because it's especially salacious: it's charged. You worry the entire room is watching him melt you, but thankfully Sirius steps back before you can burst into flame. 
"You did play really well," you say. You sound as dizzy as you feel. 
Sirius laughs genuinely, his hand following over your head to behind your shoulders. "Thanks, doll." 
The boys spend some time talking to people you don't know and then you're homeward bound, James pulling a concerned Remus, two pale hands wrapped around his wrist. "Where's your brace?" Remus murmurs, not looking where he's going. 
"It's in my bag, it was too sweaty to keep on." 
Remus probes at James' wrist. "Doesn't it hurt?"
"Does when you do that, handsome." 
You grin and swing your hand in Sirius', right behind them. 
"You must be really tired, now," you say. 
Sirius looks down at you with a charmed smile. "Not too bad, my love… You know, after a game, you're supposed to do some light training. Relax the muscles." 
"Really?" you ask. "What kind of training?" 
"It's the high impact, you need something to wind down afterward. And it's all legwork, of course–" 
You make a disbelieving sound in the back of your throat. "Of course. I'm sure we can find something to save your poor muscles." 
He pulls you in by the arm and leans down to kiss you, but you stop him, dipping your chin away from his searching mouth. 
"Sirius? Recovery training usually happens the day after a match. You know what they recommend immediately after?" You lift your chin until he can feel each word against his lips. "Rest." 
His breath is hot against your face.
"Well," Remus says, cutting through the quiet, "it's a good thing I don't need to do that." 
He and you both burst into pleased laughter, leaving your gutted sportsmen to glare at you sullenly. 
"When have I ever needed rest after a match?" James argues. 
"That's true. James is back in." Remus beams at Sirius, your joking a lightness that brightens his entire face. "Guess you'll just have to watch, Siri." 
2K notes · View notes
solarmorrigan · 3 months
Note
Actually infertile omega!Steve for the WIP ask thing
Y'know what, you're the only person who's asked about this and this has been sitting in my drafts for months and I don't think I'm ever going to develop it past this point, so! I'm just gonna give you the whole thing
Fair warning, I did write this in the midst of an anxiety attack sometime after one in the morning. It's been edited! But that's pretty much the vibe
[CW: ableism, internalized ableism, uh... sexism? is that a thing I need to warn for in omegaverse? I dunno, it pretty closely mirrors real-world misogynistic views, so heads up]
-
Give me omega Steve who genuinely will never be able to have children. Who is tentatively excited after the Upside Down and Vecna and everything to get out from under his parents' influence and stop taking the harsh, heavy-duty suppressants that he was too young to have ever really been on in the first place and to get to actually be who he is. To get to freely express his designation
And instead he finds out that his body is fucked up and he'll never have a normal fertility cycle and he'll never be able to have kids
Give me Steve being told by a shitty, prejudiced doctor that it's basically all his fault for all the damage he's done to his own body over the years - the head injuries, the broken bones, the mysterious flesh wounds. Clearly these things upset the balance of his Delicate Omega Body and that's why his reproductive system is all fucked up (couldn't possibly have been the extended use of those suppressant drugs during his developmental years, oh no)
And Steve isn't exactly devastated at first, but he does feel ashamed. He only admits what's happened to Robin and no one else, and no matter how indignant she gets on his behalf, no matter how hard she tries to push him to get a second opinion, he refuses. He doesn't want to hear how bad he's fucked up from anyone else, thank you very much
The devastation dawns on him later, in stages. It occurs to him slowly what he'll never be able to do, the ways in which he'll always be othered by a society that often still values omegas for their fertility, the way his dream of a big family has been completely shattered
And it occurs to him that he'll never be considered a good mate, damaged in so many ways, unable to even offer children in exchange for whatever other shortcomings he has - which means that as soon as Eddie starts showing interest in him, he has to shut it down as quickly as possible
Because of course Eddie's going to want a family one day, and Steve thinks he'll be a great alpha and a great dad, and he deserves that - he deserves someone who can give him that, who can give him all the things A Good Omega should. So no matter how much Steve wants to be with Eddie, no matter how safe and at ease he feels around him, he can't let Eddie think he's a viable option, and pulls away
And Eddie - well, look, if Steve really doesn't want him, then he'll respect that. He can take no for an answer. But Steve has never really given him a clear no so much as he just started distancing himself. Making himself unavailable, no longer sitting next to Eddie when the whole group hangs out, no longer unconsciously curling into his side on movie nights, just - ghosting, essentially. And that, Eddie will not take
So he confronts Steve; he's not aggressive about it, of course, but he makes it clear that he's not leaving until he gets a straight answer. Tells Steve he's been getting some real mixed signals, and does he want Eddie or not?
Steve says Eddie doesn't want him. Eddie calls bullshit. Of course he wants Steve, he's never wanted anything, anyone, in his life like he wants Steve
But if Steve can look Eddie in the eye and tell him that he doesn't want to be with Eddie, then Eddie will go
And Steve - he's never been a good liar. Not when it comes to feelings. He's never been able to lie about that, so he breaks down and admits the truth, instead: he's a fucked up excuse for an omega, he can't have kids, he doesn't really even know how to do the social shit omegas are supposed to know how to do, so. There. So Eddie shouldn't want him
And Eddie is horrified. Not because Steve is "broken," but because of all the hurt he's taken on over the years, because of the way he seems to think it's all his fault, because he thinks his only worth as a mate is in bearing kids or caring for others. As if anything like that would put Eddie off - as if Steve has nothing else to offer
It's a slow process, after that, getting Steve to accept that he's desirable for who he is and not what he can do
It starts with Robin and Eddie teaming up on Steve and eventually getting him to go to another doctor, a better doctor, who promises Steve that what happened to his system is in no way his fault. It goes on with constant reassurance, which Eddie never minds providing (dramatic little shit honestly loves the opportunity to wax rhapsodic about whatever he loves, which very much includes Steve), with an unconditional acceptance from the rest of the group, with the realization that Steve already has a big family (and multiple children; like, seriously. how did he miss that. Eddie loves to tease him about it)
And eventually, when they're ready, it goes on still with the promise that they can adopt, or consider surrogacy, or just kidnap their friends' pups (Steve laughs at the last one, but Eddie notices that he doesn't say no). There is no right way to do it, no perfect way; as long as Steve just keeps being himself, Eddie will never be disappointed
288 notes · View notes
turtlecleric · 2 months
Text
Interrupted + Together won the poll
Bay!Mikey x Reader, NSFW, inspired by art by @thejudiciousneurotic
---
Mikey is thinking about you. 
Again.
But, come on, it's not his fault! Yesterday, when you dropped your phone and knelt down to pick it up… How is he supposed to see that and not have the image seared into his mind? The image of you on your knees at his feet, looking up at him with those… those eyes, and that face, and that mouth and-
God. You're so beautiful. He can't help but imagine how your pretty lips would look wrapped around his cock. 
He's being, like, super creepy, isn't he? Friends don't think about friends when they jack off, do they? 
…But he really, really doesn't want to stop. 
He can almost pretend his fist is your mouth. It feels good, but he knows you'd be even better. You'd be… so, so good. So good for him. 
He wonders if you'd make little noises while you took him down your throat. And what about those eyes? Would you keep those big eyes open while he fucked your pretty mouth? Keep them on him? Would little tears gather in the corners?
Would you let him lead? Let him tangle his fingers in your hair and move you how he wanted?
Fuck, he wants you. He wants you so bad it's insane. He doesn't even care what you'd be like, he knows it would be incredible no matter what. You're perfect.
Your name slips out of him as he strokes himself faster. It feels… really good to say it out loud. He groans it again, louder than before, bordering on desperate as he chases his release. He wants you. Fuck he wants you. He's close, with the thought of you kneeling between his legs. The thought of your mouth, your eyes, your everything. You'd be so, so-
The door starts to open suddenly, and frustrated irritation ripples through him. His brothers were supposed to be out for at least another hour, but either way they should know to at least knock first when the door is closed. 
Well. At least he'll get to embarrass whoever it is. All three of them have walked in on him before, and they always end up absolutely mortified. A smirk is already pulling at his lips, but then the door opens all the way and he sees that it's you.
It's you.
“Oh, shit!” He leans forward, pulling his knees together and trying to hide himself. His heart lodges in his throat, and he watches you realize what you just walked in on. Watches you freeze, watches your eyes widen and your face flush and your mouth - that mouth, oh God - fall open in shock.
For what feels like an eternity, you and Mikey just stare at each other. Then you blink, and your mouth closes. You step further into the room, closing the door behind you before pressing your back against it. 
You're still staring at him. Burning holes into his eyes with your own. And he's sitting on his bed completely fucking naked except for his mask, and his dick is somehow still rock fucking hard in his hand, and oh my god you just walked in on him jacking off to the thought of you. 
So this is what it feels like to be the embarrassed one in this situation. Huh. He's not a fan. 
You're still staring. 
“Uh…” He clears his throat, shifting awkwardly on the bed. “What-”
“You said my name.”
Oh God. He had said your name. Not exactly quietly, either. Shit, shit, what was he supposed to say? Answer!
“Yeah, I. I did.”
Your eyes flick downward for a split second before they return to his face. Your tongue darts out to lick your lips, and come on. Come on! That's not fucking fair. 
“Were you… thinking about me?” You ask.
Shit. Say no, he thinks. Say no!
“...Yes.” Shit! You're going to hate him, oh God, you're probably super grossed out! Fix it! “I'm really sorry, Angelc- I mean! Uh, I can stop calling you that if you don't - if this is, like - I mean, I just think you're really really beautiful and I really like you and-” 
STOP TALKING WHAT THE FUCK!
Mikey closes his eyes and groans. Imagines dying of embarrassment. Or launching himself into the sun. Or just dissolving into dust and scattering across the earth.
When he opens his eyes again, somehow you're still here. And for some reason, you're walking closer. 
What the hell is happening?
You get close enough that he could reach out and touch you if he wanted. There's something in your expression that he can't read, but to be fair he might be a little distracted by the sight of your lips up close, still wet from when you'd licked them.
“Mikey.” When he finally meets your gaze, you let out the cutest little laugh he's ever heard. “You do realize I've been flirting with you for weeks, right?”
It takes him a solid ten seconds to register what you said. He blinks, his brow furrowing as he thinks back to his last several interactions with you. 
Oh. Ohhhhh.
He watches you, just to make sure you're not joking.
You're not joking.
When it clicks, when he finally lets himself believe it, he can't stop the ecstatic smile from spreading across his face. You smile back at him, and he thinks his heart might actually burst out of his chest. Holy shit. You like him? You like him?!
A hand on his arm pulls him from his thoughts, reminding him that he's still very much naked on his bed in front of you. You seem to remember, too, and he sees your eyes drop to his hands where they're covering his dick. 
“I know this is kind of fast,” you whisper. “But can I…”
There's no way this is real. There's no way this is actually happening. “You want to…”
You press your lips together and nod, glancing back up at him with trepidation.
Mikey feels his eyes get impossibly wide. He's got to be dreaming. This is too good to be true. 
But he's certainly not going to say no. 
He nods in return, pulling his hands away and watching in disbelief as you climb onto the bed and settle in between his legs. You watch his face for a moment. Whatever you see must satisfy you, because then you lean down, reaching out with both hands to gently stroke his length. Immediately a breathy moan slips out of him. He can't believe how much better someone else's hands feel compared to his own. 
Is this really, actually happening?
He's thinking there's no way it could possibly feel any better when suddenly your head dips down and you take the head of his cock into your mouth.
His entire body jolts at the feeling, something between a groan and a whimper punching out of him, and then you take him in further, and your head starts to bob, and you're watching him through your lashes, and he's going to fucking die. He's actually going to die. You're actually here, and you're actually kneeling between his legs, and your mouth is so warm, and your hands are so soft, and everything is so much better than he could have ever, ever imagined. The waves of pleasure have his toes curling, his fists clenching in his sheets, his eyes fluttering shut even as he tries to keep them open so he can watch the hottest thing that's ever happened to him play out in real time. 
What's truly embarrassing is how quickly he reaches his limit. 
“I'm gonna-” He can't even finish his sentence before he comes. His entire body shudders and he thrusts into your warmth again and again. He can't stop his hips from chasing you, can't stop the growl that rips out of his chest. He's vaguely aware that you're swallowing his come, your throat squeezing around him as you do, and that pulls another growl from him. 
Holy shit. Holy shit.
His brain is still buzzing when you pull away, his dick making an obscene popping sounds as it leaves your mouth, but he can't focus enough to really follow what's happening. 
There's one thought bouncing around in his mind: He knew you'd be good. 
At some point he opens his eyes again. You're laying on top of him, tracing patterns into his plastron with a finger. He must have a goofy, dazed look on his face, because you giggle when he looks at you. It makes his heart do a little flip, makes him remember the thing that really makes this all feel like a dream come true. 
You like him.
“Was it good?” You ask.
He blinks at you stupidly and huffs. “Are you kidding me? I'm in heaven, Babes. I can't - I mean, it's… wow.”
You laugh again, and it makes his chest soar. He wraps his arms around you and squeezes until you squeak, then flips you onto your back so that he's hovering over you. He's pretty sure fireworks are exploding in his chest at the sight of you beneath him.
“Okay,” he says, eyeing the button on your pants before looking back at you. “Your turn.”
Your eyes widen, your mouth falling open and once again distracting him with those pretty lips. “M-My turn?”
“Yeah!” His smile falters. “If you want to, that is. Obviously we don't have to do anything you don't want to, but… I wanna make you feel good, too.”
Your gaze softens, and your lips press into a fond smile. “I want to,” you assure him. “I really, really want to.”
He beams down at you, lowering himself onto his elbows and forearms so he can kiss you. It's a tentative thing, slow and careful and full of joy, but as you each get bolder it turns into something more fervent. He shifts, holding himself up with one arm and reaching down with his other hand to unbutton your pants. When he sits back so he can use both hands to tug them off, you help him by shimmying and let out another laugh that sets him on fire. 
He pauses for a moment more, drinking in the sight of you. Your lips, a little red, a little swollen. Your shining eyes, staring at him like he's the amazing one. It hits him again. 
You like him. 
It really is a dream come true. And he's going to earn it. He's going to earn it every day for the rest of his life. 
144 notes · View notes
not-terezi-pyrope · 2 months
Note
Ok. It's pretty clear you are more welcoming of AI, and it does have enough merits to not be given a knee jerk reaction outright.
And how the current anti-ai stealing programs could be misused.
But isn't so much of the models built on stolen art? That is one of the big thing keeping me from freely enjoying it.
The stolen art is a thing that needs to be addressed.
Though i agree that the ways that such addressing are being done in are not ideal. Counterproductive even.
I could make a quip here and be like "stolen art??? But the art is all still there, and it looks fine to me!" And that would be a salient point about the silliness of digital theft as a concept, but I know that wouldn't actually address your point because what you're actually talking about is art appropriation by generative AI models.
But the thing is that generative AI models don't really do that, either. They train on publicly posted images and derive a sort of metadata - more specifically, they build a feature space mapping out different visual concepts together with text that refers to them. This is then used at the generative stage in order to produce new images based on the denoising predictions of that abstract feature model. No output is created that hasn't gone through that multi-stage level of abstraction from the training data, and none of the original training images are directly used at all.
Due to various flaws in the process, you can sometimes get a model to output images extremely similar to particular training images, and it is also possible to get a model to pastiche a particular artist's work or style, but this is something that humans can also do and is a problem with the individual image that has been created, rather than the process in general.
Training an AI model is pretty clearly fair use, because you're not even really re-using the training images - you're deriving metadata that describes them, and using them to build new images. This is far more comparable to the process by which human artists learn concepts than the weird sort of "theft collage" that people seem to be convinced is going on. In many cases, the much larger training corpus of generative AI models means that an output will be far more abstracted from any identifiable source data (source data in fact is usually not identifiable) than a human being drawing from a reference, something we all agree is perfectly fine!
The only difference is that the AI process is happening in a computer with tangible data, and is therefore quantifiable. This seems to convince people that it is in some way more ontologically derivative than any other artistic process, because computers are assumed to be copying whereas the human brain can impart its own mystical juju of originality.
I'm a materialist and think this is very silly. The valid concerns around AI are to do with how society is unprepared for increased automation, but that's an entirely different conversation from the art theft one, and the latter actively distracts from the former. The complete refusal from some people to even engage with AI's existence out of disgust also makes it harder to solve the real problem around its implementation.
This sucks, because for a lot of people it's not really about copyright or intellectual property anyway. It's about that automation threat, and a sort of human condition anxiety about being supplanted and replaced by automation. That's a whole mess of emotions and genuine labour concerns that we need to work through and break down and resolve, but reactionary egg-throwing at all things related to machine learning is counterproductive to that, as is reading out legal mantras paraphrasing megacorps looking to expand copyright law to over shit like "art style".
I've spoken about this more elsewhere if you look at my blog's AI tag.
157 notes · View notes
apocalypseornaw · 4 months
Text
Real or Not (Pt 4/5)
Tumblr media
Dean Winchester x Reader
Dean finds out what Camila did and hits the road to chase you to Donna's in hopes you'll talk to him and hear him out
@lacilou s idea
Dean climbed into the impala and Sam was silent. He glanced over to see you were looking at the impala or Camila, your eyes had that far away look when you were lost in thought. He said a prayer to Castiel, hoping the angel was listening to ask him to keep a feed on you. He hated sending you on a hunt without him or Sam backing you, he didn't trust anyone else.
As soon as he started the engine and pulled out onto the road Sam turned to look at him "Dude, what the hell was that?" He knew his confusion spoke for itself because Sam motioned back towards where they'd come from "You kissed Y/N on the frickin forehead! Like you do Charlie or Jody!" "Fuck" he slammed his hand against the steering wheel when he realized what he'd done.
Sam shook his head "I know going into a hunt isn't the best time but what's going on here Dean?" Dean let out a groan before turning to look at Sam "Before Camila called my plan was to take Y/N to one of Bobby's cabins for the weekend just the two of us so I could talk to her"
"about?" Sam pushed and Dean shrugged "I'm in love with her Sam. The way I feel about her, I never knew those feelings could happen to me but just waking up with her in my arms makes me see the light at the end of the tunnel. I wanted it to be a big romantic thing with her favorite flowers and a fireplace for us to be in front of. She deserves the best and I wanted to give it to her"
"You do realize she's probably thinking that forehead kiss was because of Camila? I know her pretty good and sometimes she's not quite as confident as she acts and if she thinks you're trying to treat her differently because of Camila..." Sam trailed off but Dean could read between the lines, what if something happened to you because he'd made a stupid mistake from simply letting himself get in his own head? How the hell could he live with himself?
He shook his head "She'll be ok for the hunt. She thrives on the fight then I'll talk to her as soon as we meet up" Sam nodded slowly "Ok"
Tumblr media
A few bruises but beyond that Dean and Sam both had faired pretty well. No casualties and the kids were headed home to their parents.
Sam cut his eyes towards him as he peeled out onto the road "Since we got the fight she should be ok" Dean nodded "but I need to talk to her now"
------------
When the boys got back to the motel they spotted Camila's mustang so they parked in front of her room. They both got out quickly, Dean a few steps ahead of Sam. When he knocked on the door Camila burst out "Oh Dean! I don't know what happened Y/N went insane and attacked me"
He froze for two reasons, you didn't ever swing without reason and she was trying to put her hands on him. He pushed her back not enough to make her stumble but to make it clear he needed space. "What the hell do you mean?" Camila shrugged "We were talking and she hit me!" She had two tells when she lied, her eyes got too big and her voice got higher.
"What the fuck did you do to Y/N?" He asked letting venom drip into his voice. You weren't here, she'd left you alone in a town you didn't know with few weapons. She had the nerve to fucking grin at him "I got her out of the way so we can get back together. Cmon Dean you know we were good together" she tried to touch him again so he stepped back holding a hand up "Don't! Tell me where the fuck my girlfriend is now!"
--------
Sam called Dean's name after over hearing the conversation and when Dean looked up he waved him over "I can track her phone"
Dean was leaning over Sam's shoulder at the trunk if the impala when he heard Camila say "Told ya" he looked up to see she had his phone. He'd never moved as fast as snatching the phone out of her hand. He looked at the call log to see your number had been called "What did you do?" Camila shrugged "Made sure she won't take you back"
Dean could feel his blood boiling as he stepped back from her "Get it right the only reason I'm not beating your ass is because you're a woman but let's get one thing straight Y/N is it for me. The past Dean you can have him he was young and dumb. She brings out the best in me. There isn't a future for me without her in it. You could live a thousand times over and not be half the woman she is. Don't fucking call me or Sam ever again and after I make a few phone calls you'll be black listed so find a new career besides hunting"
Tumblr media
The road stretched out too damn far in front of Dean. You had damn near an hour head start but it didn't take a lot to guess where you were headed considering what direction you were headed in. You would be at Donna's.
Your phone was turned off a while ago but luckily Sam was still able to track it. He needed to see you, see what lies Camila had told you. Why had he trusted her?
He never should've agreed to help her on a hunt. He should've kept the original plans he had and you'd be in his arms right now. "Has Donna answered?" He asked Sam for what felt like the hundredth time. Sam shook his head "No"
---------------
He never should've made you doubt how he felt. He should've told you the moment he started to fall, he should've trusted that the two of you could face whatever would come together. He should've made sure no one could come between the two of you.
Every damn memory he had of you flashed through his head. When you agreed to move into the bunker, the first time he knew he was developing feelings for you, the first time you kissed. Every damn moment was etched into his mind, you were the best woman he'd ever met. You were beautiful and chaotic, strong but gentle.
The future was something he could finally imagine, retiring from hunting, a ring on your finger. Taking vacations and having a house that didn't double as a fall out shelter. Knowing what was out there but knowing the world was to a point you could hand the reigns over hunting over. Bruises no longer being under his lips when he kissed down your body, no longer being scared he'd have to see you on top of a pyre one day.
Tumblr media
He hadn't realized Sam was talking to him until he reached over to shake his arm. "What?" "I said we're almost to Donna's. Are you good?" Dean shook his head "Ask me that after I talk to Y/N"
@lacilou @saranghaey @stoneyggirl2 @marimarvelfan @roseblue373 @suckitands33 @backtotheshitshow @jackles010378 @leigh70 @diagnosedpsychosis @badassbitch-21
214 notes · View notes
steves-strapcollection · 10 months
Note
47. “When I picture myself happy… It’s with you.” 💕💕
YES! I'm still working on asks from THIS ask game, and I absolutely will be happy to receive more (since I'm using these prompts as exercises to write short shit without context to overcome my pathological need to write So Much Context)
[ NOW ON AO3 ]
There was something distinctly heartbreaking about playing wingman for the guy who made you believe in the entire concept of soulmates, Eddie thinks as he leans against the trunk of Steve Harrington's Beemer. It's not even that he thinks they're soulmates, but what the dude has with Robin is really convincing. And maybe Eddie is pretty sure Steve is his soulmate, even platonically, even if that thought makes his pining ass want to vomit.
He refuses to pine after a straight man for eternity, and yet...
What's stupid is that Eddie is a shit wingman, so it doesn't even make sense that Steve keeps taking him out with him to bars and shit. Half the women that wanted to even approach Steve were afraid of Eddie, and the other half were fucking mean to him which lost Steve's favour immediately which... hey, Eddie couldn't complain too much about that.
But still, that meant that Steve was striking out every single time and Eddie was feeling bad about it because he was happy about it. He got to spend a whole evening with Steve and sometimes they would spend the night together because Eddie's place was closer and Steve was too tired to drive all the way home. Eddie could pretend this was a real date, that Steve Harrington was dating him.
Jesus H. Christ, he was pathetic.
Steve sighs next to him. "Why is this so hard?" he asks, and at Eddie's questioning look, Steve elaborates, "Dating, getting laid, whatever you wanna call it?"
Eddie huffs a laugh, and shrugs. "Well, I mean, I think I've got it worse in that department, Stevie," he mutters, taking a drag of his cigarette. Steve's known about him being gay for months now, which makes it even more wild that the man still shared a bed with him and took him out to bars almost every Friday night. Tossing his cigarette onto the asphalt and stubbing it out with his boot, Eddie asks, "What are you even looking for?"
Steve pauses, staring at the ground. "Someone who makes me happy, who gets me, who wants to be with me, the real me, y'know?" he asks without even looking at Eddie, which is good because Eddie's sure the way his heart was breaking would be visible from fucking outer space.
Me, that's me, Stevie. Choose me. That's what Eddie wants to say, to shout and scream and even stomp his feet a bit because it's not fucking fair. He's all those things and more and he wanted to be that for Steve.
"Think you might be putting too high of standards too early on these poor girls, Stevie," Eddie laughs instead, grinning crookedly over at Steve and stopping short at the intense gaze being leveled back at him.
"See, that's the thing, Eds. I'm starting to think I've been looking for that in all the wrong places," Steve says seriously, shifting so he's standing in front of Eddie.
And Eddie is sure he's dreaming. He's actually fast asleep and he's going to wake up literally any second and this was all just some terrible dream thought up by his awful, gay, pining, stupid brain. Because it actually sounds like Steve, the love of Eddie's life, is about to confess something huge to him.
"What makes you say that?" Eddie croaks out before clearing his throat, glancing at Steve's lips before meeting his eyes.
"I've always had these big dreams about my life, what it'd look like if I wanted to be happy, and before I always thought of these grand things that involve a wife and a whole pack of kids," Steve says and Eddie feels his already shattered heart break even more.
Eddie manages to laugh, though, even if what he really wants is to crawl into bed and cry. "Okay, so now you're raising the bar even higher on these poor girls?" Eddie asks, shoving Steve's shoulder with his fist.
Steve isn't swayed. "You don't get it, Eds, that's not what I want anymore," he says, running his hands back through his hair. "That isn't what I imagine when I think about being happy."
"Then what do you imagine?" Eddie asks because, apparently, he's a huge fucking masochist.
"Eds... you're really going to make me say it out loud?" Steve asks, almost teasingly, and then he steps just a little bit closer.
Eddie's heart stops, once again struck by how not real this has to be. "Yeah, I'm gonna need you to say it with your outside voice, Stevie," Eddie says. "I'm not a mind reader."
Steve sighs heavily and puts his hands on his hips as he visibly considers his next words carefully. Something comes over his expression that takes Eddie's breath away, something fierce and brave and beautiful, and now the full force of it was turning on him when Steve's eyes meet his.
"When I picture myself happy," Steve starts, stepping close enough that the heat radiating off of him begins to warm Eddie's chilled skin. Steve lifts a hand to cup Eddie's jaw as he says, "It's with you, Eds."
Eddie blinks owlishly at Steve. "What?"
"I think I'm--I've been into you for months, and when you came out to me I got so hopeful, like I actually maybe stood a chance, which is obviously stupid. Just because you're gay doesn't mean you're into me but still," Steve rambles a bit as Eddie tries to form a coherent thought. Steve chews on his bottom lip and asks, "Eds? What do you--is this, like, okay?"
Eddie slaps himself in the face, just hard enough to sting, and Steve jumps.
"Eddie, what the hell?" Steve asks, bewildered.
"Sorry, just checking that I'm not dreaming. Pinching wouldn't've been enough to wake me up from a dream this good," Eddie breathes, twisting his hand in the front of Steve's polo and pulling him close. "You mean that, Stevie? You want me?"
"More than I've wanted anything in my life," Steve confesses easily, and he stumbles when Eddie gently shoves him back.
"Then take me home and we can make out about it in private, yeah?" Eddie suggests, grinning as he scrambles to get into the passenger seat of the Beemer.
When Steve gets into the car, he's grinning, and Eddie leans across the center console. "One kiss for the road?" he asks, batting his lashes up at Steve.
"Absolutely," Steve agrees, and then their mouths slotted together perfectly, like they were made to be kissing each other all along.
And yeah, Eddie was really starting to believe in soulmates actually...
Thank you again for sending me this ask!!! Send me more of these fun prompts? Also, if you like my writing, please consider checking out writing blog -> @gerrystamour
414 notes · View notes
wayfayrr · 4 months
Note
I see your human!reader and raise you: the Chain struggling to find food they can actually eat, reader feeling terrible and maybe a bit like a burden because of it, and getting into a dangerous situation in order to make it up to them
Source: the Owl House :)
I'm so sorry that this took so long to answer!! I've been quite busy recently but while I haven't watched the owl house I hope this does what you wanted justice, it got out of hand the more I wrote!!! I've heard it's great I just don't really watch shows :( Fair warning this got way more angsty then I planned for it too, with reader being pretty flippant about their own safety than they really should be, there's a brief not very detailed description of gore too. (it's also fairly wars centric towards the end)
[masterlist]
Tumblr media
“[Name]! So wind and I’ve just been to the village right? I think I’ve finally found something I can cook that you should be able to eat! It was quite expensive but I’m sure it’ll be worth it for you!” 
“We looked around for ages, so if you can’t eat this then there might not be anything in Hyrule that you can eat!”
Wind means well with what he’s saying; I know that Wild does too, they don’t mean to make me feel bad - I think they don’t anyway. Not like they really need to try with how much of a burden to them I am. Buying expensive supplies just for me? When they’re already struggling to afford their own basic supplies, now I’m just adding unnecessary costs for them. Don’t get me started with the looks of pity they give me either. 
“Thank you both but, please don’t go spending so much on me.”
“But we have to find something you can eat, you’ll just be a… It’s not good for you to starve!”
That - that’s the closest any of them have gotten to saying it outright, they really do just see me as a burden - they aren’t even trying to hide it now. No wonder I’ve always been kept to the side in any fights, Hyrule can’t heal me so I’d just be deadweight if I got hurt, I can’t fight like they can really all I’m good for is as a meat shield to defend them from magic. “Hey [name], are you alright? You zoned out a bit there…”
“Oh, yeah I just - I think I just need to have some time alone if that’s alright? I’ll make sure to stay in distance of the camp.”
“As long as you’re careful and not there too long, I’m sure it’s fine. I’ll tell the others for you.”
I hope he doesn’t.
He seemed content with how I nodded at him, so I should be in the clear to go and just vanish for a while even if it’s just to pretend I’m not causing them issues for a little while.
It doesn’t feel like it takes me long to get to a nice place to sit, so it should still be pretty close to camp - not that they should be worried for me. Somewhere nice and open to sit next to a gentle babbling brook, it’s calm and I’m alone, everything I need at the moment.
Shit - how did I not see a sleeping lynel!? No no, not now I don’t even have a weapon! … What if I did kill it though - their parts can be sold for a fortune… I could pay my way and prove I’m not just useless. Even if I don’t - well they won’t have to worry about me in that case.
It hasn’t seemed to notice me yet, maybe there’s a chance I can come back from it. If I just stay low and as silent as I can then I should be able to jump it. 
Stay quiet, take its weapon. Wow, that’s a lot lighter than Wild makes it out to be. Now to just - Just go for its neck! I - I actually managed to slit its throat!
IT’S STILL ALIVE!?
Okay. OKAY! Its movements are sluggish and it seems to be bleeding out so just get away from it - 
Why - why can’t I feel my arm properly? Why is my shoulder so wet all of a -! The pain hit harder than a truck every nerve on my left side feels like it’s being set ablaze, there wasn’t a single hope of keeping in the scream I just let out, one I didn’t even realise had ripped its way from my throat. Tilting my head down to see the cause; suddenly my body feeling nothing but raw visceral pain suddenly makes a lot more sense than before. The stupid thing cut half through my shoulder with my arm now hanging limply by my side. 
“[NAME]! WHAT ARE YOU DOING - YOU’VE BEEN MISSING FOR HOURS - WHAT Did you - [name]!?”
Wars is here..? Didn’t Wild say I was going off for a bit? Why would he be looking for me? I can’t be worth so much that he’d go off on his own to look for me.
“Oh goddesses [name] what - no, no, no stay awake, you’ve got to stay with me darling.”
“‘m awake… ‘m - still ‘ere…”
Is that really what I sound like right now…  I sound so slurred… like - like how people on tv sounded when they were. Oh.
I’m bleeding out and delirious then, no wonder Wars is ‘here’, he’s just my brain giving me one last happy memory before I kick the bucket. Isn’t that wonderful, to spend my last moments hallucinating my unreciprocated crush caring for me. Closing my eyes feels all too easy, even when I’m about to drift off it still feels as if he’s holding me, maybe this won’t be too bad?
“[Name] don’t you DARE close your eyes, you - I’m not losing anyone else I care about - I can't lose you… I haven't even-”
A harsh slap to the face after a shaky breath - one that feels all too real - has me reconsidering things, the feeling of something tears dropping onto my face is the thing that finally has me opening my eyes despite how hard it is to do so. 
“I - I have some bandages, a potio- no that’s not going to help you I’ve got bandages I just need you to talk to me while I use them, so I know you aren’t close to passing out. You’re going to make it out of this - I need you to make it out of this.”
The agony of him adjusting my arm to bind it, well it’s proof that I am still very much alive. If he really wants me to talk… well then I might as well try to get some answers out of him.
“Why - why ‘re you - wh’ ‘d you come lookin’ fr me?”
“You - vanished for hours without a word, did you really think none of us would get worried? Even if none of the others would, I will always come for you.”
“Hm’ wild said he w’s gonna tell the rs’ o’ you… b’sides ‘m just a burden ‘nt I? Wil’ pretty muh said i’.”
“...Wild. but why would he risk - he wouldn’t put you in the… Don’t worry about what wild says he’s lying, you’re not a burden, even if you were. You’re one I would choose to carry every day for the rest of my life without a single regret. Don’t let what he says get to you, darling.”
Murderous, that’s the best way I could hope to describe the look on his face, it’s like he wants wild dead. His bandages seem to have stopped the bleeding though, so while I still feel lightheaded I should live as long as the wound doesn’t get infected. 
“Wai’ why’r you callin’ me darlin’? ‘M not - you’r…”
A little smirk crossed his face then barely lasting long enough for me to just notice it before it was replaced by concern, did I forget something, I mean it’s not impossible that I also hit my head right? Right?
“But you’re my partner, honeybee, we’ve been together for a few days now - you - you can’t have forgotten that right? If that’s the only price for you surviving, I mean we can always just make better memories. You - You’re still alive and that’s the most important thing.”
Well that’s not impossible, I know I’ve had feelings for him for a while so if he did ask I would’ve said yes…
“We can remake the memories later after you recover. You know I’m so glad that human blood flows slower than ours, those precious few extra seconds are literally lifesaving.”
He’s just babbling to himself now, must’ve been stressed over me; now that I’m safer it’s all just draining out of him. The way he’s clinging to me and shaking shows that fairly well too, like he doesn’t plan to let me out of his arms for a long while. 
“Please never do this ever again, I don’t even know what you were planning but you could’ve died [name], you could’ve died and I wouldn’t have had a chance to say goodbye. Please you have to explain why when you’re better. Please promise me you’ll tell me why.”
“I will Wars, I swear.”
“...That’s all I needed to hear, thank you darling.”
217 notes · View notes
weird-an · 1 year
Text
Steve is such a bad liar.
Robin would be insulted, if it wasn't so funny. He bitches about Hargrove coming in at Scoop's and teasing him about the shitty uniforms every day. He claims to be annoyed by Billy nearly crawling over the counter to stare at his thighs, while not having asked out any of the pretty girls that had only eyes for him since it started. He talks about boobs every day but can't stop ogling Billy's chest. Well, to be fair Billy's shirts are always unbuttoned.
Still, Steve complains about it. It's hilarious and sad at the same time.
"I swear Robin," Steve says for like the fifth time in a few minutes. "I'll punch him in the face tomorrow."
Robin rolls her eyes. Like Steve's going to do anything else than nearly drooling on the sundaes. "Yeah, sure."
"What?" Steve puts his hands on his hips, reminding Robin of an upset, overworked dad. "I already did it. I'll do it again"
That's it. It's one thing that Steve is lying to himself, but lying to her face? No fucking way.
"Dingus, you stare at him every time he comes here." Robin gives him another point on the You suck board. "You're into him."
"I'm not staring." Steve purses his lips, face turning a little red. "And I'm not-"
"Well, he's into you."
"He is?" Steve clears his throat. "I mean... I don't think he is."
Robin gives him a day to let sink it in. The next time Billy comes to Scoop's its so blindingly obvious. Steve has to see it.
Billy made his hair. Fluffy curls, bouncing around his head, shirt held by one tiny button, showing off the shadow of his nipples. Robin wonders how much time he spent getting ready.
They're both hopeless, Robin thinks.
"Steve has to talk to you," she snaps before any of them can say anything. "In the break room."
"What?" Steve turns to her.
She's so fucking done with them. Boys are stupid.
"In. The. Break. Room." Robin points at the door. "Now."
"Welcome to Scoop's Ahoy," she says to the girl behind Billy, flashing her a smile.
Steve and Billy stay away for an hour. Robin gets a bit worried. Maybe she has been wrong and they're killing each other back there. Scoop's new flavor is going to be interesting.
Finally they come out. Well, Billy stumbles a little.
"Bye Buckley," he says, not looking at her. His hair has even more volume than before. There's a bite mark on his pec.
Jesus, she just wanted them to talk. Boys are idiots. Robin is glad she isn't into them. She's never eating her lunch again in that room.
Steve has a dazed impression on his face, grinning like he does when they smoke too much pot.
"I... " he pauses. "I owe you."
490 notes · View notes
kitasgloves · 1 month
Text
"Melting"
Tumblr media
event masterlist
— ♬ "Melting like an ice cream when you smile"
— ♬ Akaashi x Reader, timeskip, SFW, fluff, gen reader, neighbors to lovers, no beta
Tumblr media
Moving into a new apartment complex marked a new journey in your life. A new journey means changes, and changes lead to adjustments, which truthfully you weren't a fan of. Somehow moving into your new place became a hassle, to be fair, you were doing all of the moving alone and you had a ton of stuff that held way too much sentimental value to get rid of. So, the first day felt like you were about to snap your spine in half.
"Three more boxes to go"
You groan as you settle a box in the living room. Sweat trickled down your face and your back as you went to fetch another of your boxes. As you reached to pick up the unsuspecting box, you didn't anticipate the weight it held that sent you almost stumbling back and losing your balance.
"Oof-"
Your body tilts backward with the box in hand when suddenly a pair of firm hands catch your shoulders, stopping you from falling. You momentarily freeze at the sensation of large hands keeping you in place.
"Are you okay?"
A deep but velvety voice sends your heart to a screeching halt. Your head whips around to be violently smacked in the face by the sheer beauty this stranger held. Gunmetal blue eyes, dark hair, thin-framed glasses, and a face sculpted by gods? Your breath hitches.
"Oh! I-uh..."
"Do you need help with your boxes?"
You were nearly about to decline until you bit your tongue and nodded to the handsome man. You stood there like an idiot gawking at this tall pretty guy carry two of your boxes inside your apartment without breaking a sweat. Oh, he must be packing under those layers of clothing. You shake your head hoping it will dust off the heat on your cheeks.
"Th-thank you for helping me out! I'm [Name] by the way"
"I'm Akaashi and you're welcome. Let me know if you need any more help"
He gives you a curt smile that makes your toes curl as you watch him retreat inside his apartment next to yours. Oh my god, this hot dude is your neighbor, talk about luck. When you enter back inside your place with tons of boxes to unload, that's when you begin to melt replaying the moment his hands held your shoulders.
Only weeks later your tiny crush on Akaashi developed further to full-on attraction that you're too shy to admit. Denial was futile not when he's so gorgeous and has a heart of gold. Akaashi makes you revert to a high school student giggling about their first crush. You're a grown adult yet you can't help but leave tiny notes on his mail whenever you pass by his door, like a student would to their crush's locker.
You are my church, you are my place of worship. I heard you're the plug, can I be the circuit?
When Akaashi finds this unusual note sticking out of his junk mail, he is perplexed. It was written in cursive and on pink paper...oh. He pauses. It almost resembles a deja vu moment. Nonetheless, it feels familiar and reminds him of when he was younger. Akaashi thinks if this note just happens to accidentally get mixed up with his mail. It was a possibility considering his name was not on the love note, or anybody's name for that matter. He scratches his head but discards the note under a stack of paperwork on his desk.
When I got court, I hope that you're the verdict. When you're around, my insides turn inverted
You delicately wrote on a piece of light pink paper with your fountain pen, it's been a while since you've written in cursive but you made an effort. You waited until the coast was clear as you snuck the folded note between Akaashi's daily stack of junk mail by his door before slipping off to leave and get groceries. Coincidentally, you meet him at the nearby supermarket. You go short-circuited when he offers you a smile and wave as you awkwardly return the gesture. God, you feel like melting again.
Take one look at you, you're heaven's incarnate. What is this spell, baby? Please show some mercy
Akaashi has been staring at this love note for thirty minutes already, unable to decipher what he felt. This was the third letter he had received and he had concluded that it wasn't accidental. Someone was intentionally sending him love notes. He tucks the note along with the others inside his favorite book and sits back. He feels like a high schooler contemplating their emotions after receiving their first confession through their locker. Akaashi has experienced this before and even politely rejected some of those love letters back in high school because romance wasn't a priority back then but now, he doesn't know what to do but wait until this secret admirer sends another note.
Melting like an ice cream when you smile. Melting, you're a daydream, stay a while
You're stuck in your apartment on a day of watching YouTube videos. Your search history was embarrassing. You recently snuck another note in Akaashi's mail and you're here praying you'll learn to be funny, so you're watching every stand-up comedy. You hoped that it'll at least rub off on you so Akaashi will smile at everything you say. You screamed against your hands, you truly felt like a frustrated teenager and hopelessly crushing on someone out of their league. But something in your heart tells you to persist or maybe you're delusional thinking your neighbor will return your feelings.
You got some soft lips and some pearly whites. I wanna touch them in the dead of night
For the first time, Akaashi smiles at the love note he has received. Albeit, small but visible. Something stirred in his chest that he had to double-take. He re-reads the note over and over again, he assumes that his secret admirer is a true romantic, and something about it makes his insides go fuzzy. He has zero clue about who could be giving him love notes, but god he wants to know.
Your smile ignites just like a candlelight. Then somehow, I know everything's alright
You wrote another letter and you were about to stick it in Akaashi's junk mail as always when you almost got caught. Thankfully, you slip the note in your pocket when Akaashi goes to pick up his mail, you pout, and you realize you're a second late to sneak your note. Your neighbor notices you and waves.
"Hi, [Name]"
"Hey, Akaashi"
"Do you mind if I ask you a question?"
He asks you as you nod, curiosity burning through your eyes. Akaashi invites you into his apartment and stores away his mail. Your heart stops when he shows you the oh-so-familiar pink note, and your flight or fight instincts almost go off. But you stiffy sat there, hoping your oblivious facade wouldn't give anything away.
"So, I've been getting these love notes for five days straight and I don't have the faintest idea who could be giving me these"
Akaashi shows you the love notes you've been anonymously giving him and you pretend to inspect them while deep in thought.
"Hm, it could be one of our neighbors"
"I'm not close with anyone besides you, [Name]"
"Oh"
God, you hope the blush won't be evident on your face. You pretend to cough on your hand to cover your face as you try to make up an excuse to leave because you have no idea how long you'll last without crumbling in front of Akaashi.
"I'll let you know if I find someone suspicious, heh"
"Okay"
Akaashi watches you leave his apartment, seemingly in a rush. He sighed and was about to sit back in his office when he noticed a folded pink piece of paper left on his couch, right where you sat. He holds his breath picks up the note and unfolds it to reveal the same cursive handwriting to his secret admirer. His mouth goes agape. He didn't want to jump to conclusions but if he were right and you were his secret admirer, he wouldn't be more glad.
"Shit! Where's the note?!"
You searched all your pockets to find the note you previously wrote for Akaashi but never got to drop it off missing. Then your sweat turns cold, did it slip from your pocket and land on Akaashi's couch? There is no way. You grabbed a nearby pillow and screamed against it. You were beyond mortified. That's it, you're moving places again, probably in another country. Preferably while also changing your clothes, your hair, your face, and your name. It was impossible to look Akaashi in the eye anymore once he found that note and discovered you're his secret admirer, you doubt the guy has feelings for you in the first place.
You hugged your pillow and frowned, you shouldn't have done that. When you're about to sulk in your room and play some sad music to help you make you feel even more pathetic, a knock on your door interrupts you. Your stomach drops, you know it is Akaashi. Great, just fucking great. Maybe you should jump out of your window and escape? Or maybe just ignore him until he goes away? Or maybe just face him like a grown adult. You sighed and swallowed your fear as you dragged your feet towards the door.
Astoundingly, Akaashi was standing at your doorstep with a bouquet of your favorite flowers. You let out a silent gasp. Your neighbor was giving you a smile that never fails to make you melt.
"[Name]"
"Akaashi, what's...what's this about?"
"I know about the notes, I know it was you"
"Oh. Why give me [Favorite flowers]?"
"Because I want to give it a shot. I want to let you know that you also make me melt like ice cream when you smile"
Hold up, could someone pinch you awake holy shit this feels so surreal. You stumble over your words before ultimately letting out a laugh, there was no way that your delusions came true and that you have an actual fucking shot with Akaashi Keiji. He stands there patiently, waiting for your answer.
"Are...are you for real?"
"I wouldn't have gotten to know you and what flowers you liked if I didn't like you"
"Holy shit, yes!"
You squeal as you go over to hug Akaashi, almost knocking the bouquet out of his hands. He laughs and holds you securely in his arms while his heart pounded wildly against his ribcage. When you both pull away and he sees that perfect smile of yours he never gets tired of seeing every day, he feels beyond ecstatic, fuzzy, and most of all, he feels melting like ice cream.
Tumblr media
©kitasgloves (do not steal or copy)
103 notes · View notes