#like minus the red hair and the glasses
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I'm so sorry but why does he look like Crowley with this hair?!
Like wow
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They Said No... Part 3
Obey Me! Datables (minus Luke x MC!)
Featuring: Simeon, Solomon, Diavolo, and Barbatos
Part 1 HERE
Part 2 HERE
~We all get asked to do things sometimes that we do not want to do. And it's okay to say no, but sometimes you need a little extra help to get the point across.
Warnings: MC gets propositioned and S*ut shamed by a demon, threats, violence, sass, discussion of pact making, and other things like that.
Diavolo
The enchanted orchestra plays a haunting waltz as the Prince’s golden gaze scans the ballroom. The hundreds of well-dressed guests don’t capture his attention at all.
How could they?
None of them are you.
He has been so preoccupied with diplomacy and engaging with some of his more noble guests he hasn’t gotten to see you at all tonight. He misses you and your smile terribly, especially when a fake one has been plastered on his face all evening.
To help in his search and hopefully get a bit of alone time with you, he decides to drop his princely grin and walk about the room as if he has a set purpose. If he seemed preoccupied, no one would bother him for the time being.
It works like a charm and the crowded dance floor parts for him like the red sea. He passes what looks like Beel hunched over the buffet table, Satan chatting with a representative for the Animal Shelter, and Asmo playfully twirling a glass of demonus in his freshly painted nails as a crowd eats up every word that comes out of his mouth.
But where are you?
Finally, after minutes of searching the room, he finds you leaning against one of the pillars on the far side of the ballroom staring out the window at the purple-tinted moon.
He can’t keep his expression of indifference any longer; the grin tugs at his lips as he grabs two flutes of demonus from a passing servant. Ready to sweep you off your feet and hopefully into the gardens for a little stroll away from the party.
But someone beats him to it.
A long-haired Demoness with long deep blue curls saunters up beside you, “Well don’t you look sinfully delicious this evening?” She draws gently, trailing one of her gloved hands down your arm. You tense under her unfamiliar touch and subtly move a bit further away from her.
“Tell me, Little Lamb,” she coos, flicking her serpentine tongue in your direction. “What does a demon have to do to get you alone for an evening?”
Wha, excuse me?” you blink.” Your behavior is uncalled for.” You take another, much larger step back. “You should go now.”
“Oh, come now,” she laughs, tossing her head back haughtily. “Don’t think I haven’t heard of your reputation MC, a mere human seducing their way through the Devildom. Surely you can make an exception for one more?”
The glasses in Diavolos’ hands shatter violently, and their contents drip onto the marble floor Barbatos took such care in polishing earlier. “What do you think you are doing?” he growls, filling the room with his overwhelming aura.
“L-lord Diavolo,” the demoness shakes, her violet gaze wide and darting between you and the Prince, no doubt trying to figure a way out of the punishment that awaits her. “I was just joking around with them; that’s all; humans are too sensitive.”
“You continue to insult Mc,” he frowns. “Do you not wish to keep your tongue? Leave now before I take more drastic measures.”
They nod hurriedly and rush away from the ballroom, leaving you and the Prince surrounded by onlookers. Your eyes brim with unfallen tears, but you keep your composure beautifully. “Thank you, Diavolo.”
The rage inside him dulls as he shakes the demonus off his hands and escorts you away from prying eyes.
Barbatos
“Sorry for the wait, Mc,” Barbatos says, leading you into the lounge outside of Diavolo’s office. “The young master has been tied up in meetings all afternoon, but once he is done, the three of us can go out to dinner.”
You smile brightly as the butler, your hand lingering on his own, not wanting to let go. “That’s alright; I don’t mind waiting with you.”
You’re just too precious; it makes his ancient heart skip a beat. “I just have one last chore to do, and then I’ll be all yours.”
“Oh,” your slightly disappointed tone fills him with pride as you glance around the room. “Can I help with anything?”
“Absolutely not; you are a guest. All I require of you is that you relax and enjoy yourself until I come back,” he says, placing a hand on your lower back to lightly guide you into the comfortable seat in the room. “I promise I shall only be a few moments.”
He leaves quickly, making sure to be near enough should you require anything. With a steady hand, he wipes a vase far older than himself faster than anyone else would attempt to. The ancient porcelain still shines like new under his careful touch, but as he looks into the rich colors within, he can only think of your eyes.
His ears twitch as the sound of footsteps is much heavier than your own. They thud down the hallway stopping at what seems to be the door to the lounge, and step through the freshly oiled hinges.
A weary feeling settles over him for two reasons,
Firstly, The young master isn’t expecting any more guests today.
And Second, You are completely alone in the room with a strange demon.
Instinctually, he places the vase down and rushes down the hall to check on you.
He pauses just outside the door catching the scent of the son of a well-known Noble Demon. His green eyes peek through the crack in the grand double doors, it may be impolite to eavesdrop, but as a Butler, it is quite the perfected skill.
“You there, Human.” the pompously dressed Demon sneers in your direction. “Go make yourself useful and fetch me something to drink.” They smirk confidently at you and lounge back into the chaise as if they own the place.
It grinds Barbatos’ gears, but he doesn’t interfere yet; the mantra ’a good butler does not make a scene.’ replays in his head as if it is a warning, but his hand is already on the doorknob before you even reply to the rude Demon.
“Excuse me?” you say with a composure that makes his heart flutter, “But I believe you have mistaken me for someone else; I do not work here; perhaps one of the Little D’s would be able to assist you.”
He scoffs as if he had never been told no before. “I am a very important guest of the Crown Prince; you are nothing. If I want you to grab me something, you will get it for me.”
“I already told you I do not work at the palace; I have business with Lord Diavolo just the same as you do,” you explain again.
“You speak as if we are equals; perhaps I need to teach you a lesson,” they spit, uncurling their barbed tail and pointing it threateningly in your direction. Your eyes widen a bit, and you subtly shift in your seat; Barbatos spots thin tendrils of magic already at your fingertips in case the entitled demon attacks.
He can watch no longer- Stepping into the room without his usual polite smile, “That’s quite enough; your disrespectful behavior is not tolerated in this castle.” At Barabatos’ entrance, the Demon begins to shake something fierce as whispers of what the butler does to threats to the crown replay themselves in his ears.
Barbaots tries to hide the softness he feels when he sees the way the fear of your features falls away in his presence.
Although it is immensely satisfying to watch someone who was once so proud and entitled backtrack and blubber out a seemingly endless stream of apologies and excuses to you, Barbatos is in desperate need of your quality time, and this imbecile is getting in the way of that.
“Furthermore, why would you ever ask them to do something for you that you are clearly capable of yourself,” he asks, smiling maliciously, leaning close to the trembling Demon’s ear. “Are You Helpless? If that’s so, why should someone as pathetic as you ever request an audience with the future king?”
“R-right, s-sorry,” he mumbles, scurrying out of the lounge as if he were a rat. The thought of such sends a shudder through him as he turns his attention back to you. Your shoulders are stiff and rigid, your breaths come out shakily, but you are unharmed, and that’s all that matters.
“Little Rose,” he asks in a feather-light voice, crouching down to your eyes level and taking off his white gloves to hold your hands properly. “Are you alright?”
You nod slowly as he rubs gentle circles into the back of your hands. The contact soothes him just as much as it is soothing you. “I’m okay.” you say at last, “Thank you for being there for me, Barbatos.”
“When you need me, I will always be there for you- I promise,” he says softly, meaning every word.
Simeon
Simeon is all smiles as he walks down the cobbled streets of Majolish. How can he not be? He’s going to have lunch with you.
A part of him feels bad about not telling Luke about this little date, but he really wanted to have some alone time with you.
As of late, It seems as if everyone else has no problem getting you alone; it pulls at his heartstrings to know that he isn’t as present in your life as he wishes to be.
Some may call his feelings possessive, but in all reality, it is love, true unadulterated love. Every time he sees your face, he wonders if falling from the celestial realm would really be that bad of a thing.
Just as he approaches the Bistro told him to meet him, he notices you off in the distance. You walk quickly across his path, a look of irritation on your pretty features that has the Angel wondering if he himself has done anything to upset you recently.
He hasn’t, but the feelings of insecurity persist, and he gets closer.
“No comment,” you say aloud, your hand swatting at the air around you as if there was a bug. “I told you I have nothing to share.”
He may not be able to see the other presence around you, but he can feel it. One of the tiniest Lesser demons he has ever taken note of buzzes around your head like a fly around a bowl of fresh fruit.
“Come on, sweetheart; you gotta tell the people what they want to know.” The voice says in a comically high-pitched voice.
You stop and stare at the little bugger. “I have nothing to say to you about the brothers, the prince, or anyone else for that matter,” you say defiantly.
“Listen, MC; I’m a busy demon. The kind of Demon who has deadlines. If you don’t give me something good, I’m done for.” He pleads, circling around your head once more.
Simeon takes a careful step forward, more than ready to come to your aid when the Demon opens his mouth again.
“What about the Angel? You gotta tell me something about him. No one is that good, that pure. I’m sure my readers would kill for a story about how one of the highest-ranking angels of the celestial realm is being corrupted right here in the Devildom.”
Simeon stops in his tracks. The accusations may be false, but those rumors are dangerous, especially to him. If his superiors heard a story like that was gaining traction, they could take him away. He would never get to see you again.
The Angel knows he has told you many secrets in the late hours of the night that would satisfy this pest of a reporter. But those secrets were exchanged in hushed tones with many tears. You would never betray him like that.
Would you?
His heart feels so tight in his chest as you stare at the Reporter in shock. “at first, I thought you were just annoying. “You say calmly, “but it seems to me you are more than that; how stupid can you be? Simeon is one of the kindest beings I have ever met; your story has no substance; leave me alone.”
The emotions that welled up in Simeon’s chest when you took his side were indescribable—making the sweet Angel feel as if he were falling for you all over again. He feels rejuvenated and ready to help you get rid of this Reporter once and for all.
Despite the pissed-off look on your face, the Reporter does not back away, throwing up his tiny hands and changing the subject.
“Okay, nothing special there. But how about Belphegor? Is it true he was kicked from his exchange program early as a result of sleeping through his classes?”
“I may not know too much about reporting down here, but I am fairly certain the best information comes straight from the source,” he says in his calm and cheery voice. With his presence known, he sees the Reporter fly out of your personal space bubble quickly. You look visibly relieved that there is no longer buzzing in your ear.
Now that you are feeling better, the Angel continues his lecture, “As for me, I have nothing to say to someone who works with such a lack of integrity. Please leave the two of us in peace.” Although he speaks with a smile on his face, his words are not a friendly suggestion. The lesser Demon flies away quickly, not wanting to face the wrath of the Angel.
With the pest gone, he turns and gives you the biggest, most sincere smile he has to offer. Feeling an emotion he cannot name with your knees buckle at the sight of him.
“I’m glad he’s gone,” you say softly, taking his outstretched arms for balance as you make your way back over to the Bistro. “I kept telling him to leave us alone, but he would just keep pressing with these awful questions.”
“I know,” he says, kissing the top of your head lightly, “But I would like to thank you for sticking up for me.”
“And you, me,” you giggle, glowing with a light all your own.
Solomon
The great sorcerer finds himself continuously drawn to the clock, the slow-moving hands taunting him as he comes to a disappointing realization.
You’re late…
You’re never late.
He looks back at the fully prepped conjuring station and fiddles with the covers of a few of the jewel-encrusted spellbooks longingly. Your magic lesson was supposed to begin ten minutes ago, but you are nowhere to be found. He spots his DDD lying face down on the end of the clean countertop and reaches for it.
Perhaps you messaged him, and his ringer was off. He picks it up only to see his blank lock screen. Your pixelated smiling face does little to ease his mind. With one last glance at the clock, he turns and walks out the door. His cape flows behind him as he walks through the hallway of Purgatory and out its doors.
He’s out on the street, walking towards the House of Lamination with vigor, using his arms to propel his speed walk forward like he is a mom walking the track at their child’s soccer practice.
The thought does cross his mind that he had forgotten a possible time change the two of you had agreed upon earlier, but as he rounds a corner, he is able to make out your figure through the light fog that settles on the ground.
But you are not alone; in front of you, there is something large in your path, the fog makes it difficult for him to see exactly what it is, but the aura radiating off of it reveals that it is a lesser Demon who is currently on their knees in front of you.
‘Well, this certainly looks intriguing,’ he thinks to himself, stepping closer. A wave of his hand sweeps away the fog, but neither you nor the begging Demon seems to have noticed his presence yet.
“Please, please, please. Mc. You just have to accept me.” it begs, a clawed hand creeping forward, trying to grab ahold of your shoe pathetically. “I’d do anything for you, Protect you, worship you, anything.”
Solomon has no clue what is happening right now. Is it perhaps another demon professing their love to you?
No, if that were the case, you would have politely turned this poor Demon down with a kind look on your face. But instead, he sees you look uncomfortable, very uncomfortable, as you take a step farther away from the Demon’s outstretched hand.
“I have already told you no,” you say at last. “I am not interested in making any more pacts.”
Solomon immediately understands why you look so uncomfortable. When making a pact with a demon, it does more than grow one’s powers. It creates a bond.
Many Demons do not understand just how draining it can be to have a pact with a demon who doesn’t deserve it.
Although Solomon may desire pacts with strong demons so that he can be strong enough to protect the human realm should the need ever arise? You are different- you have your own reasons for making pacts with the brothers. These pacts are a symbol of your love. Something he is certain this little pest is undeserving of.
Solomon decides that he would like a bit of attention now…
“Oh my,” he says, walking around the Demon as if he were as insignificant as a fallen tree branch. “Do watch your step Mc; it looks like no one has come by to clean up these paths after last night’s storm.”
You look visibly relieved to see another friendly face, and Solomon kisses the back of your hand tenderly. The Demon stares at you both angrily but knows better than to say anything in response. Solomon smirks and looks down at the pushy Demon with a narrowed gaze.
“Why would MC share a part of themselves with a demon who is too stupid to understand the meaning of the word no?” he says with his silver tongue. “They may be kind enough to turn you down politely, but me? Not so much I’d leave if I were you.”
Wordlessly the Demon picks itself off the ground and runs off with its curly tail between its legs. Not wanting to anger Solomon the Wise any more than he already has been the smartest decision they have made today.
As they scamper off, you look a bit embarrassed as you check the time. “I guess I’m running a bit late to our lesson today, aren’t I, Solomon?” A soft giggle slips past your lips, and Solomon wonders if he will ever get tired of hearing that sound.
“You had a good reason,” he replies simply.
You groan. “Still, I had been trying to shake them for at least thirty minutes, but they wouldn’t leave me alone.”
“Hmm, then how about we do something else today?” he offers. “Take a break, maybe, sneak up to the human world for some frozen yogurt or a soft pretzel?”
Your eyes light up at his proposition. “Could we get a drink?” you ask, “Demonus isn’t gonna cut it today.”
You’re just too cute sometimes. It makes him feel much younger. He looks at you with an almost boyish grin and laughs, “I think we can make that happen.”
#obey me!#obey me nightbringer#obey me#obey me headcanons#obey me writing#obey me x reader#diavolo#diavolo x reader#obey me diavolo#barbatos#obey me barbatos#barbatos x reader#simeon#obey me simeon#simeon x reader#solomon#obey me solomon#solomon x reader
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Dorm Leaders (minus Vil) reacting to the reader calling them Beautiful
I may be sick but my head is overflowing with writing ideas so I have to do this. I’m excluding Vil because Vil already knows he is beautiful, so all the Vil simps don't be upset ok. Enjoy :)
Riddle Rosehearts🍓
🍓"!?!?!!?!?!!" Riddle was left stunned at what you had said, and his hair strands jumped up in shock.
🍓Him? Beautiful? That word was never brought up whenever someone would talk about him or mention him. Riddle has been called many things like "smart", "talented", "strict", and cough cough "short" (even though he despises that word), but he has never been called beautiful before.
🍓After Riddle calmed down, he would look at you with judging eyes, most likely thinking you were joking and it was a prank suggested by Ace or Floyd, but as he kept looking into your kind eyes, he realized you meant it truly.
🍓Cue a blushing Riddle, as he looked away from you, embarrassed then looked back at you again: "You are very bold, Y/N. Most people are afraid to say anything to me, yet here you are, casually calling me beautiful."
🍓If you tell Riddle, you will never be afraid of him and will always find him beautiful, yelp good job, you just broke Riddle, as he will turn red all the way up to his ears and neck, and his eyes will become watery, as he will be feeling emotional from your sweet comment.
🍓Everyone in Heartslabyul will notice that Riddle will be in a joyful mood the day after you called him beautiful. He will be smiling more and be less strict with the rules. Heck he even let Ace go with just a warning, instead of collaring him.
Leona Kingscholar🦁
🦁You and Leona were both hanging out near a tree in the botanical gardens, with you reading a book for class and Leona sleeping next to you. As you gazed at Leona's peaceful face, you called him beautiful then went back to reading your book.
🦁Well that woke up Leona from his nap. Leona eyes both opened up in shock and he glanced towards you, not expecting, you the Herbivore, to call him beautiful.
🦁The smirk on Leona's face will be huge, as he reached his hand towards your face, moving your head for you to look at him. "Heh, you expecting to butter me up with compliments, Herbivore? You just calling me that so I can help you with your assignments."
🦁Shaking your head, you told Leona that you were stating a fact and that he really was beautiful. You even said that you found him very beautiful the day you stepped on his tail, yet you didn't say it out loud.
🦁This mans ego was already big to begin with, and you had succeeded in making it even bigger. Leona still had that smirk on his face, but his face was slightly flushed and he was giving you bedroom eyes.
🦁Leona quickly got up off the ground, grabbed you while flinging you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and began speed running back to his dorm. Good job Y/N, you have woken the beast and he was going to take his time with you and expects to hear more compliments about how beautiful he is.
Azul Ashengrotto🐙
🐙"CRACK!" Azul glasses had broke the minute you said that comment to Azul as both him and apparently his glasses were in shock from your comment.
🐙Azul was just on his desk, finishing some documents, and you had just walked into the room to give him some tea and then all of a sudden, said that to him.
🐙Azul immediately didn't believe the word that came out of your mouth. He honestly thought the twins had set you up to this as a way to mess with him. Feelings of insecurity began to rise in Azul as he told you not to lie to him, as he was never called beautiful once in his life, especially to how he was bullied during childhood due to how he looked.
🐙You told Azul that you don't joke about stuff like this, as you walk over towards Azul and place your hand on his cheek. You tell Azul that he is beautiful, including his merman form, and he shouldn't believe the hurtful things that he was called in the past.
🐙Azul started to sob uncontrollably at your kind words, as he moved closer towards you and pulled you into a hug, with his head on your chest. Your words had a big impact on Azul as he slowly started to build confidence and appreciate his merform a bit more instead of hating it.
Kalim Al-Asim☀️
☀️"OH THANK YOU Y/N!! YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL TOO!"
☀️Kalim wasn't really fazed by your compliment as he always complimented everyone he met, so it didn't come as much of a shock when you called him beautiful.
☀️Still this adorable sunshine boy was very happy and gave you a giant bear hug, and offered to give you a ride on his magic carpet.
☀️You accepted the offer and both you and Kalim flew around Scarabia. After a while, the both of you stayed on the magic carpet and just hovered above while looking up at the starry sky.
☀️Kalim turned towards you and noticed you were staring at him and he asked what was wrong. Feeling shy, you turned your head away and apologized saying you were staring at him cause he was really beautiful
☀️He blushed this time and felt butterflies in his stomach. Kalim was starting to realized that you calling him that made his heart ache. He hugged you again and gave you many smooches on your face.
Idia Shroud🎮
🎮 “CRITICAL HIT!!!!!!!” Idia had literally clutched his chest and collapsed from his bed in utter shock
🎮you were in Idias room, watching him during one of his gaming streams. You liked watching him play in person because you get to see many of his expressions especially his smile which he didn’t always do, and you found his smile very beautiful, but you had accidentally said that out loud in front of him and he had heard you
🎮 “NANI?!? NANI NANI?!?!?!? THEY CALLED ME BEAUTIFUL?!?!?!? OMG THIS IS LIKE THE SCENE FROM AN ANIME WHERE THE UNPOPULAR GUY GETS ASKED OUT BY HIS CRUSH?!?!? THIS CAN’T BE HAPPENING RIGHT NOW!!!”
🎮Idia’s mind was racing a thousand thoughts a second, but he eventually snapped out of it when you had tapped one of his legs that was still dangling on the bed, asking him if he was ok
🎮Idia got up slowly like a zombie and sat back down on his bed, cross-crossing his legs while pulling his hoodie up over his head, hiding his face from you. “P-player 2. You can’t be serious. Me? B-b-beautiful? No way.”
🎮Heaving a sigh, you grabbed Idia’s face and told him to look up at you. Shocked, Idia looked up at you, not expecting you to touch him like that. You began complimenting his hair, his face, his smile, his voice and you go on to tell him that he can keep denying he is beautiful but you will continue to call him that no matter what.
🎮His neon blue fire hair started to glow bright pink, as his heart began to skip a beat at your words. You smiled at him and wrapped your arms around him in a hug. Idia stayed still like a statue, but he slowly melted into your hug and gave you a quiet “thank you.”
Malleus Draconia🐲
🐲 “…..” Malleus was left baffled by your words. The both of you were strolling near an abandoned building, observing the structure and admiring the gargoyles. Malleus was going on and on, taking about how beautiful they were and you had agreed with him, while also saying he was too
🐲Malleus was a crowned prince and also one of the strongest mages in the world, so he is often feared by others for his magic and intimidating aura, but then you, a magicless human, who had just arrived to this world out of nowhere, called him beautiful, without any fear or hesitation
🐲Silence filled the air, as both you and Malleus stared at each other, until you broke it and looked away from Malleus, embarrassed at having said that, but you turned back to Malleus in shock as he started laughing
🐲 “Hahaha, Child of Man, you are a strange one indeed. Never has someone called me beautiful before. It is a very odd feeling, but I don’t detest it. Thank you.” Malleus made his way closer towards you and patted your head, smiling kindly at you.
🐲Blushing, you looked back at Malleus with a smile and said your welcome. Malleus continued to gaze at you with loving eyes, as he leaned closer and gave you a kiss on the forehead, and then he disappeared, leaving behind glowing fireflies.
#twisted wonderland#twst#disney twisted wonderland#disney twst#riddle rosehearts#twst x reader#twst riddle#twisted wonderland x reader#twst disney#leona kingscholar#dorm leaders#dorm leaders x reader#twst dorm leaders#twst writing#leona kingsholar x reader#azul ashengrotto x reader#kalim al asim x reader#idia shroud x reader#malleus draconia x reader#twst x you#fluff headcanons#twst fluff#twisted wonderland housewardens
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❥déjà vu (m)
↳ One year after the fulfillment of a particularly raunchy agreement with your best friends husband, the three of you once again find yourselves together over a bottle of pinot noir, an appetizer, and an unforeseen question laid out on the table:
If you could do it all again, would you?
kim doyoung x fem!reader — friends with benefits, gratuitous sexual content, porn with plot [21k wc] cws: open relationship, alcohol consumption, bdsm-heavy!! dominant doyoung, submissive reader, restraints, impact play, slapping, dom-drop+aftercare, unprotected penetrative sex, oral sex (m+f), gratuitous dirty talk/degradation/humiliation, cum play/facials/wet&messy, deep throating, safe word usage, ravishment play, infidelity play, spit play, doyoung has a big dick and fucks like a pornstar.
In the dimly lit ambiance of the swanky restaurant that you and your present company currently reside, and over the dull, pleasant hum of the chatter of the surround patrons, you suppose you can't help but reminisce, just a little bit.
One year.
Not on the dot, a few weeks give or take since the beginning of one such agreement, but nevertheless a time in your life that you've found yourself recalling perhaps a few more times than you'd care to admit. Admit to yourself, and especially to aforementioned present company.
You bring yourself back from the thought just in time to make eye contact with the man across the table from you — a knowing collection of features gracing his face, of course, he doesn't know the ins and outs of whatever it is that happens to take your attention in the moment, but rather, just that there had been something to stir you away from the present. The ringing laughter of your best friend just next to him finally coming into earshot to let you know that the two had been engaged in some other conversation that you must have tuned out slightly, you watch her snake an arm around his as his preoccupied one continues to top off your glass of red wine.
Thankfully, third-wheeling with the couple has become far more comfortable, though, you suppose you know what the reason for that may be.
Mina, with blonde hair tied back into a ponytail and a black sweater on — it must have been the evening for couple outfits, as Doyoung sports just about the same, minus the blonde hair, instead sporting his usual black with seemingly no interest in ever changing his look.
"I'm so annoyed I have to go on this business trip at all," Mina huffs, across the table and next to her husband. "But they did say that I would need to be gone like this occasionally when I took it, so hopefully it can be done and over with as quickly as possible, at least."
"How long was it, again?" You ask, fork gently pressed between your lips to clean it off.
She rolls her eyes as the response begins to leave her. "A month. I don't know what he's going to do without me."
Playful in nature, Mina cozies up with Doyoung next to her as she says it, to which he merely offers a roll of his own eyes before audibly inhaling to response. "Surely I can manage."
"He'll probably just work the whole time, anyways," You add. Your friend nods knowingly. "Aren't you writing a book?"
Lips to his glass, he begins speaking into at the tail end of his sip before placing it back onto the table to carry on with the thought. "It's finished. Loose ends here or there but mostly done. Back to the usual workload, now."
Humming, you carefully shovel another forkful of pasta into your mouth before your vision catches on Mina — a certain gleam in her eye that you know all too well by now to mean that the woman be up to no good, you slow in your motions as you maintain your eyes upon her in wait for what it is that she almost certainly be about to unload on either of you in the middle of this far-too-expensive restaurant.
"Actually," she starts with a jingle to her tone. Eyes now averted from either of you, she still maintains the wicked upturn of the corners of her lips as she hesitates only slightly before finishing the sentence with little more presented to either of you. "I kind of wanted to talk to you about something—"
"Who?"
The word drops from both you and Doyoung simultaneously, and as a result, pulls a resonating chuckle from the woman.
"Well, both of you."
Uh-oh.
Doyoung, once having had his head turned towards his wife, now slowly pulls his vision ahead again, but not without narrow, questioning eyes still remaining to his side as if suspecting her being up to no-good. For good reason, as well, because you maintain the same amount of surveillance on her in wait for what it is that she's about to bestow.
Like a villain sitting in her evil, hands twisting within themselves for all of the devilishness that be about to transpire as a result of her.
"I have an idea."
"Well, that much we can tell, you only get like this when you have one of your ideas," Doyoung can't help but quip back immediately. A man lovingly fed up with all of the nonsense that his wife bring to his life, while no doubt being a large part of the reason that he love her in the first place. "So, what is it, then?"
"No fun, as usual." She sighs before taking a hastened sip from her own glass of wine. Then, her attention turns almost exclusively towards you, as if equally fed up with the way that her husband be behaving in regards to her unknown genius. "Since I'm going to be gone so long, I was thinking — why don't you come stay at the house?"
A shocked, resounding ‘what!?’ coming from both you and the husband in question, once again.
Of course, Mina only laughs at the response from you two with a gentle shake of her head to top it off.
You don't entirely know what to make of the offer, and frankly, you're a little bit too afraid to ask. Instead, you're thankful for Doyoung's bluntness, and perhaps also his familiarity in navigating these particular waters with his wife — because you think you know what she's suggesting, but he most certainly will be the one to ask the question out loud.
"Are you suggesting another arrangement while you're gone?"
"Yeah, why not?" She chimes back as if it be the most normal thing in the world. That it be bizarre for anyone to so much as question it further. "It's a whole month, darling."
"Fairly certain I can keep myself busy enough to not die without having sex for a month."
In ways, this conversation not really involve you currently. Should it play out a specific way, suppose then your input be necessary, but for now: this is between the betrothed.
Mina finally turns in the booth to face him better, but Doyoung insists on maintaining his calculated stature in facing forward and staring out towards the nothingness of the restaurant. He's difficult to read in moments like this; unable to discern if he's upset by the proposition, the potential implications of it, or if he's interested and just unwilling to come of all too eager, and especially in front of you.
After all, the last time sure did end off with a bang, of sorts.
"Are you mad at me?" She asks cutely, as if knowing the answer already. A woman who knows her husbands buttons well, as he turns to give her his full, undivided attention almost the moment that the last syllable drops from her mouth.
"No! I'm not mad, it's just," he pauses, thinking through his word choice carefully as a result of present company, you're sure. "I thought we all agreed that it was a one time thing."
"Then say you're not interested and I'll drop it."
For a split second, Doyoung's eyes catch your own, but he pulls them back and away from you nearly just as swiftly.
You don't think you've ever seen him like this. So...flustered?
Swallowing so hard you watch the lump in his throat bob, Doyoung cocks his head to the side once as if stretching for the marathon of a conversation that his acquiescence to this may just result in. A marathon, indeed, because there would certainly be a whole load more negotiations to take place for a month of who-knows-what-really.
Hesitancy to admit that he's interested in the arrangement. Reluctance to admit it outright without seeming all too eager to re-engage. Tricky waters for the husband in question to navigate, certainly.
Eyes fluttering shut, he sighs. "I'm not against it, just...surprised."
And unfortunately, that means it's your turn now.
Both of their attention now turning to you just as the waiter comes and brings the bill to your table, you feel the heat of embarrassment rush to your face — as if this stranger be privy to the topics ongoing currently — you chuckle nervously as you take the paper in hand, only for Doyoung to just as swiftly tear it away from you before you have so much as a second to consider paying it yourself.
"Well?" Mina questions, chin resting inside of her palm as an elbow settles against the waxed wood of the table top.
For whatever reason, you choose not to acknowledge the man any further as you think through your answer. Assuming him far too busy calculating incredibly simple math especially for someone with a career in finance, all you are capable of is simply thinking him all too enamored in that to be paying any interest or mind to what your response to this question could be. So, with eyes glued to the table in front of you, you muster up all of the courage that you can, while simultaneously biting back the bubbling excitement that you're not too proud of having, before finally giving your best friend your full attention and giving the answer that you think be the one that everyone at the table be looking forward to hearing from you.
"Yeah. I'm down."
Three weeks later, you bring your belongings for your extended stay over to the house that you find already to be comfortable.
There's a certain air about it: a place that you've already spent countless days and nights at, but knowing the circumstances under which you're back inside of their humble abode offering a new set of eyes that you have long since abandoned since a year or so back. Kitchen countertops and upstairs walls that serve as reminders of all sorts of goings on between you and the man of the house — perhaps things you may find yourself revisiting as well as new, unexplored areas with him — there's an excitement within you that now takes the place of any uncertainty or reluctance the first time around.
Because you know Doyoung, and you trust him completely.
Dragging a large suitcase inside, as well as an over-the-shoulder bag and a laptop bag for work, you carefully set your belongings down on the white, marble flooring of the home as you listen for the nearing sounds of footsteps hurrying down the upstairs hallway and towards you. Mina tips over the railing with a bright, cheerful smile — somehow the happiest of the three of you about the way that things are going to carry out for the next thirty days.
"You're here! Doie! She's here!"
Of course, you don't hear from the man, and instead your friend rushes herself down the stairs and into your arms with a wide, tight hug.
"I'm also hungry, I hope there's food in this house," You playfully respond, but before Mina has the chance, Doyoung retorts plainly from the same railing that Mina had been lovingly doting on you only minutes before.
"Suppose I'm expected to keep you fed then, as well."
"Yes, dear," Mina dryly answers with a huff over her shoulder. "Feed and fuck her, that's the agreement."
It being so simply discussed out in the open perhaps something you may never grow completely comfortable with, and with eyes glancing upwards to gauge the mans response as a result of his wife’s words, Doyoung's eyes only roll before sauntering down the stairway just the same as the woman had.
"Are you going to make dinner tonight?" Mina questions as he arrives just behind her. Hands in pockets, he shrugs rather nonchalantly, as if it make no difference to him either way. "I could."
He meets eyes with you, a single eyebrow raising. "Should I?"
"Uh, yeah," you hesitate in response, arms still wrapped around his wife as the conversation carries on. "That'd be really nice."
"I'll go prep then while the two of you say your goodbyes."
And before exiting the scene, Doyoung leans forward and around to kiss Mina — her still very much attached from you, it results in a very full, somewhat-intimate moment that you're all too included in. Unsure if they simply not be aware of your proximity or just as much not care, you swallow and glance away until they're finished — Doyoung's eyes once again catching onto your own before he pulls away from the blonde woman and disappears inside of the kitchen just down the hall.
Shortly there after, Mina separates herself from you, as well. Bags already packed and set aside by the door, you ask her if she need any help in bringing her things out to while she protests, and simply tells you to go and enjoy your stay...
...as well as 'all of the things that the stay has to offer.'
You're not sure if you should feel guilty for the amount of anticipation you've been holding back ever since the initial conversation, but you can't help but wishing for the woman to hurry herself out of the residence, even just a little bit.
You love her, of course, and if her being there instead were an option you would happily choose that ahead of your own interests.
But it's not an option, and frankly, you want to fuck her husband again. No real need to beat around the bush about it, this time.
Two hours after the wife’s departure, the scent of dinner brewing emanates throughout the lower level of the residency that you're now expected to call 'home' for the next month. Surrounded by familiar, white walls and granite countertops, the tall man within be laid with the multitasking of dinner-making while you carry out the finishing touches of table setting. One hand carefully cupped around the tip of the last candle, you hold the lighter against the wick for the fire to catch, and pulling away, you glance over the handy work that you've done in the meantime as you wait for the food to finish cooking. With a heavy sigh coming from Doyoung, you glance over only to find him missing momentarily — popping up from his presumed kneeling position in front of the small, compact wine cooler with a bottle of white in hand.
"Are you going to get changed?"
His expression is somewhat deadpan, which you suppose is to be a bit expected of him, but the question definitely coming from out of left field given your lack of knowledge of even being expected to wear something other than what it is that you had arrived in.
Was this...a date?
Stammering slightly, you do some quick, on your feet thinking about anything that you may have easily accessible in one of your bags that not require a whole lot of putting together in the last minute. "Yeah, give me a second."
Nearly jogging out of the dining room, you hear the man loudly and in your direction. "Make it quick, dinner's in ten."
Pulling a loose, casual dress from your bag and quickly bringing yourself upstairs and into the guest bedroom that you're now to call your own, you can't help but divert your attention down the hall to the shared bedroom of the wedded couple, with one, main rule bestowed upon you by Mina days before your arrival. Her only request of the two of you and your adventures together while she be gone:
Never in their shared room.
No interest in breaking such a rule, instead, you think it charming as you disrobe quickly to change into something more fitting for the evening together. That even in all of the things the couple be willing to share in their marriage, some things still remain off limits, and only for them.
As you re-enter the kitchen area, you catch Doyoung as he pull his apron off from around his neck. Long, thin finger deftly working at the tie around his small waist in a way that reminds you of precisely the way that the mans body look: broad shoulders cinching so snugly at the middle — accentuated by the way fitted trousers and belt hug him and pull at the loose fabric of his button down shirt — he catches you looking well before you find enough awareness to bring your eyes away, and a flush of heat settles at just the tips of your ears as a result of being found out in such a way.
He says nothing, however, instead carrying on with the task of setting the discarded item onto the back of a chair and nodding towards the glass dinner table. "It's ready."
Walking steadily behind him, you realize that the close proximity of the both of you in such a way having long since reignited a sort of burning passion within you for the man — with eyes cascading over his shoulders and back as he bring himself forward, you feel the first, all too evident throb of arousal between your legs that you know, for a fact, you can't possibly place blame on anything else.
When the original agreement had come to a close, you accepted as much happily. A good, positive, growing experience for you in so many ways, but more than that, you were satisfied. Not just sexually, but with your relationships, your life, and your choices. Within the closure came a certain kind of acceptance of yourself in ways that you had never had the opportunity to find before, and now with the re-opening of it, what you really hope to find is more of that.
More acceptance, more trust.
In ways the nature of such agreement never truly able to be just about sex. You can't speak for him, but for you, so much more to be learned and experienced.
Reaching the clear end of the table, majority of the things residing atop it placed further down to accommodate the fact that only two people be sitting there this evening, Doyoung stops so abruptly in his tracks that you nearly collide straight into him — hands coming up to steady yourself and set space between the two of your bodies, it turns into a bit of a whirlwind, however, when you feel the familiar grip of fingers coming around one of your wrists and pulling you forward and in front of the man.
You don't get much more time between then and the few seconds following: expertly placed up and on top of the glass with your legs pried apart to make room for the man between them.
The first kiss comes equally hard and fast, as well.
Nipping into your bottom lip, you don't need much help navigating these particular waters as your hands already make quick work of his belt, followed shortly thereafter by the button and zipper of his black trousers — with such little time passed and a palm pressed against the front of his pants, you find only the beginnings of an erection forming, enough to have you groaning into his mouth with promise of what's to come all of the same, however.
A master of his craft, Doyoung having already pressed the majority of the length of your dress up your hips upon hoisting you onto the table, he dips a single finger down the front of your panties and between your folds, as if to test the waters already. From your position, it's easy to feel the ease in which he glides against you due to the slickness already presented to him — your reward thus far? An absolutely wicked groan of his own through teeth that bite down just a little bit harder into your lip.
"God, how long have you wanted this?" He says with a low tone, words delivered directly into your open mouth as you gasp for air at the feeling of him rubbing gentle circles into your clit just the way he knows you like it. "You're so wet already. You still think about it, huh?"
Less interested in playing games and more willing to be a far more active participant this time around — leaving behind the shyness and apprehension that came along with the completely uncharted waters of the first time — you tilt your head back just slightly and grin, taking in the feeling of him all over again.
"Yeah, I do," you answer with airy confidence. "Don't you?"
"Fuck yes I do."
Words coming through in nearly a growl, Doyoung drags his mouth down along your jaw to suck into the skin all of the way down your neck before settling into the juncture of your shoulder. Pointed sucks and nips into the skin there as if a man truly starved for your touch, you feel him pull you forward and tilt you back just slightly — adjusting the angle of your body so that the fingers teasing you can slip down further — middle finger gliding so easily inside of you, he gives you three pumps of it before adding a second to see how much you need to be prepped for him.
The answer is very little.
Barely any resistance brought to him as he fucks you open with his fingers, you lean back with one palm against the glass behind you to remain stable as the other fishes out his length from behind the confines of the fabric holding it. Long and beautiful, just like you remembered, you run the palm of your hand up the underside of his shaft before delicately wrapping fingers around him and offering him a few lazy strokes; for no other reason than to hear the way his breath hitches just beneath your ear as his mouth carries on its journey back up that way.
As the man carefully creates enough space between your bodies to hook fingers into the sides of your undergarment and pull it down your legs, as he quickly presses his own pants down his thighs just enough to not be a deterrent, you can't help but notice the palpable urgency that this instance carries: a man known for his intensity and ability to maintain stoicism even in the face of erotic desire, this time you find him nearly unrecognizable from any of the times before. No roles between you, no power dynamics at play.
Just two people and raw, sexual desire.
Forearms hooked up and under your legs for leverage, you reach down to him to angle and ease him inside of you with one, smooth drive of his hips — sinking into you with heavy, contented sighs dropping from the both of your mouths at the feeling of each other. Rocking into you shallowly two, three times, it's only then that Doyoung reach his hand up to grasp the side of your neck as if to hold you there, in place, and with all eyes on him, as well.
Pulling the leg still in his grasp up and tightly against the side of his body, he offers you a quick, hard, snap of his hips that finally has you feeling exactly how it is that you want him to make you feel.
Crying out, he settles his forehead against your own, looking you dead in the eyes as he offers another hard drive of his cock into you. The angle is just right for him to graze your g-spot with intense pressure, and already, you feel your thighs quaking around him at the sudden onset of it.
He starts slow, but is quick to find his pace against you, all the while holding you firm in his gasp for just the right amount of leverage that every forceful thrust into you be received with the utmost impact.
You had forgotten how easily he's able to have to falling apart under, and around him.
Electric intensity coursing through every nerve ending, toes curling as your moans quickly dissolve into pathetic whimpers, you feel the prickling of wetness threatening your tear ducts as you bite hard into your bottom lip in an attempt to bring yourself back, even just a little bit.
It's the first time, and relatively vanilla, at that. This man can not have you withering like this already, it's humiliating.
With his jaw tight and teeth gritted as he stairs down towards you, you whine out as the hand around your neck snakes up just ever so slightly and into the hair at the back of your head — fist clenching tight within the strands, and it's only then that Doyoung break his gaze with you and trail hot, dry lips down to the shell of your ear.
"Thought I forgot what you like?" He asks with a drop of venom to his tone. "Don't want to ruin you just yet, we still have dinner to eat."
There's that nasty mouth you had grown to love a year ago.
With impending orgasm on the horizon that no doubt that man inside of you can feel, he trades in shorter, quicker drives into you for fuller, longer ones — offering you the feeling of the entirety of his cock with every snap of his hips, and it's really then that you realize that Doyoung have your likes a little bit too under his thumb for your liking.
But only as far as ego goes. Physically, you already find yourself lamenting the day in which this must once again come to an end.
Walls clenching down around him, Doyoung hisses into your ear as you bite back the full, long moan of an orgasm that's soon to shake you, and dipping down only long enough to nip and suck into the skin below your ear, he brings his mouth back up to it right as you're on the verge of your release.
"How about you make me come, so that I can lick it out of you for dessert."
And that will certainly do the trick.
Yelling out so loudly that you're happy to know that the two of you home alone and on a plot of land large enough that neighbors not be a concern, your orgasm rips through you, so desperate to grip onto something that one hand come up to curl fingers into Doyoung's forearm as he hold you by the hair in place for him to fuck into. Bringing his head up to look at you, as if the unsure about the motion and having to check in on the goings on visually — happy with the scene as your eyes roll back into harshly knitted eyebrows, you hear him groan from the chest — full-bodied and throaty as he comes as well with only a handful more drives into you before burying his cock entirely to empty his load inside of you.
The familiar twitch of him as he comes — mouth delicately hung ajar and looking down at the place where he disappears inside of you — a simple man who enjoy all of the carnal pleasures that sex offer him as much as any other. Prim, proper, put together on the outside but when given the chance, a man willing to say and do the the nastiest, filthiest things to and for a partner...for the both of your enjoyment.
The wetter, the messier — the better it is, for you and him, alike.
And as the two of you sit together for dinner only moments after, discussing the trials and tribulations of adult, workload life — with his cum dripping from your cunt and soaking into your panties, you know one thing is for sure, and that is that whatever is left of it inside of you by the time you two are finished here, he most certainly will be making good on his promise of dessert.
Waking up in the morning feels strange, even under the circumstances of a fake-dating agreement.
On one hand, it makes sense: preferring to sleep in the comfort of ones own bed, but as you lie awake, staring at the while ceiling above and listening to the hum of the dehumidifier that stand tucked away in the furthest corner of the room, you can't help but feel something. Some way about it.
However, it is early into the scenario — only day two, so perhaps it best to allow these feelings of uncertainty lie dormant for just a little while longer — given time to manifest into something if they ever are to, before bringing it to the attention of the man of the house.
Would it be a strange request? All things considered and through all of the other goings on, could something as quaint as the request to be slept next to be one unspoken hard limit for the husband in question?
A single, hard blink has you putting the thought out of your mind in exchange for rolling over to face the window as the delicate blanketing of morning rays wash over your frame. Snagging your phone from off of the nightstand, you check the time only to be be shocked by how early it is — only a bit past six — you come to realize that it explain the sound of rustling from downstairs that you originally thought to be nothing but the typical sounds of a house in the night.
For a moment, you contemplate attempting to go back to sleep, rolling onto your back once again and sprawling across as much of the expanse of the much-too-large furniture as you can possibly manage. Instead, it's the sound of the espresso machine ringing loudly through the residence that has you reconsidering your options.
Footsteps climbing the stairs, you can't help but listen in on the way that the man moves about when not in the company of you or others. Sounding as if he is, however, you hear him on the phone to someone or another — displeased at best, as well, given the strength to his voice despite being unable to make out the words. Shuffling around his office briefly only to disappear back down to the lower level, you decide then that you much too curious about Doyoung in a way that you hadn't quite expected: him as a person, him as an employee, him detached from sexuality almost entirely.
Feet into slippers and a light robe over your shoulders, you quietly tip-toe your way down to the kitchen where it seem that the majority of the early morning happenings be taking place — as you make your way closer, the distinct scent of coffee brewing and and continued sounds of an irritated man, none too thrilled about the conversation taking place, but it's only when you reach the nearest entryway and your presence demands his attention, that you feel as though you may have been walking into more than you had thought to be signing up for.
Black hair styled and slicked back with a gray suit adorning him — it would appear normal, given his occupation, if not for one, glaring, difference to the typical business attire.
No shirt worn underneath the jacket, instead, you find yourself faced with the expanse of smooth skin that you're already well acquainted with, sure.
But not like this?
Your being there appears to fluster him slightly as he turns his back towards you quickly and cusses under his breath despite still being on the phone. Informing the person on the other line that he'll call them back, you watch with a sort of innocent enjoyment as Doyoung pulls the jacket closed before turning to face you again.
"What are you doing awake?" He all but stutters out, a good attempt at maintaining his vocal balance through his embarrassment, you have to give it to him.
With a single eyebrow perked upwards, you offer him nothing more than a gentle grin at first, slipping through the doorway finally and pulling a mug down from one of the higher cupboards to pour yourself a cup of coffee. "I don't sleep so well in new places, it'll take a couple of days to get used to a new bed."
You can't be sure if ignoring the elephant in the room be what he desire right then and there, or if instead it only lending to more awkwardness — so, you make a judgment call then and there as you turn to seat yourself at the kitchen island and hopping into one of the tall stools that reside there.
"So—"
"Don't." He immediately interjects with screwed shut eyes and a palm up towards you.
A small giggle escapes your mouth at his insistence, but beyond that, you choose to let it lie as you quietly scroll through your phone. Doyoung, however, not as easily placated — shuffling around nervously in place, and if you didn't know any better, you might think him to be irritated at your lack of insistence further.
"It's not what it looks like."
Glancing up towards him, you blink once. "I assure you that I have no idea what it looks like."
It's the truth, because after all: what the fuck?
Rolling his eyes and accepting defeat, the man grabs his mug from behind him and seats himself across the way from you with phone in hand as if waiting for a call that he intend on answering the absolute second that it begins coming through.
"So, you know I wrote a book."
You nod.
"Publisher wants me to do some promotional photos for it, now I get word last minute that the photographer isn't coming and they're having a hard time finding someone who can make it all of the way out here in time."
"Is there a reason that they want you to be dressed like a Chippendales dancer for a book about business and finances?"
Groaning and tossing his head back so abruptly you think he might send the entirety of himself barreling backwards and out of his chair, when he comes back upwards, he looks approximately as pained about the whole ordeal as you might expect him to.
"Something about selling more books."
A questioning hum into the rim of your mug, you would be lying if you said that you didn't enjoy having a bit of the high ground over the man for once. Tables turned briefly as he sits across from you nearly nervously sweating the wax out of his perfectly styled hair — when the call begins to come through finally, Doyoung jumps up and out of his chair to answer it — hurried and excited at first, only to find himself sounding just as annoyed and despondent as you had heard him earlier on.
Guess it's not going well.
Turning to you once again as he ends the call and setting his phone onto the granite countertop with a heavy sigh, he tilts his head backwards with eyes closed as if in silent prayer for some sort of answer to this conundrum from some sort of higher power above.
Luckily for him, the answer only need fifteen more minutes to wake up and another cup of coffee, first.
"Did Mina ever tell you I got pretty into photography a few months back?"
"I'm sure she mentioned it."
Slow on the pick-up.
"I brought my stuff with me because you guys live in sort of a good area for landscape photography," you continue on, and thankfully by now the mans eyes start to pick up and raise towards you as you speak. "I don't really do people but it doesn't seem like you're in much of a position to be all that picky."
Quietly taking another sip from your cup, you sit by and wait for the reluctant acceptance: because he's a man out of other options, and you don't really have anything better to be doing this early in the morning, either.
"Fine." Doyoung sighs, tipping his own drink all of the way back to finish it off as if downing a shot of liquor to prepare him for the morning going forward. "Just make sure I look pretty, would you?"
"Of course, darling."
Snapping a few test shots, you pull your camera down from your eye and take a look through the display to check the turn out — given, it's a bit of a rough shoot with no lighting equipment and not much else to help you along your way, but you figure with what you're getting here currently that someone far more talented than yourself be capable of fixing anything decent you get in post.
Looking upwards again and towards your subject: laid out on the white flooring of an otherwise unfurnished room that the happy couple haven't had the time to get around to just yet, Doyoung keeps his attention turned well away from you as you cycle through the photos to determine any better way that you can make this work.
You think, perhaps, that he's still a bit bashful of the circumstances.
Leaning back against his elbows and forearms, you watch him glance towards the ceiling just briefly before finally looking at you.
"Well?"
It's a little bit funny how little he wishes to be doing this right now. Karma, perhaps, for years of subtle torment.
"They look good enough," you admit with a slight nod, sounding almost surprised at the fact. "I think we can get a few good shots pretty quick and have you back in your office writing boring reports, or whatever it is that you do, in no time."
"I'd much rather be doing that." He huffs, turning his attention away again. The movement gives you an excellent shot of the angle of his jaw, however — thus, you bring your camera back up to take a few more pictures before gracing him with a reply.
"I've never met a man so dismayed by being attractive."
"You think I'm attractive?"
You bring the camera down again, a slightly annoyed but playful cock of your head to the side that silently says 'really?', because frankly, it's a stupid question. This is a fact that Doyoung knows, as evidenced by the smirk that takes his lips as a result of your reaction to it.
"It's not the 'being attractive' that's bothersome," he continues on with the thought, offering you an honest response now. "Just don't really need or particularly enjoy this kind of attention on myself. It feels bizarre, especially as someone in my line of work."
It makes sense, and snapping a few more shots, you opt out of a verbal reply and only hum of acknowledgement, instead.
"I'll be happy to have it over with, and now I know, no more books."
Without pulling up from the camera, you carry on with your direction. "Look towards me."
Head turning slowly and eyes settling deeply into your own even through the lens, Doyoung settles into his new pose — a smoldering look to him that really would have you thinking that something like this be his chosen line of profession after all, but shaking it off, you press a few more clicks of the button and check in the view finder once again for how the photos are turning out thus far.
Doyoung's gaze, however, remaining firm on you as you do.
Jacket open again and chest fully on display, you make a good effort of attempting to ignore the flesh before you. Of course, it's far from the first time that you've seen him — and really, you've seen him in far less clothing and far more intimate scenarios, but something about this, you find, doing a little bit extra for your visceral attraction to the man.
Even worse, it's about seven in the morning. Who tries to fuck their best friends husband at seven in the morning?
You do? Maybe?
Mind wandering to the thought of whether or not it's something that is also on his mind, you figure it not too far from the realm of possibility: after all, the relationship between the both of you be almost strictly a sexual one, what else is there for either of you to be fantasizing about whilst in each others company like this?
"Is it good?"
The wording is a little strange, and that's because you know it to be a question with a hidden agenda behind it. A question he often asks you while buried deep within your body, as your eyes fall to his and your camera falls away from your face just a bit, you can quite easily see the sinister curl of one corner of his lips. Knowing, playful, a man with an agenda, indeed.
"Yeah," you answer cooly, not willing to allow him the satisfaction of knowing about your growing arousal. "They look good."
It's then that one of Doyoung's hands slowly glides up and to the front of his trousers — watching on as he expertly unbuttons and unzips them all the while maintaining perfect eye contact with you — there's a part of you deep down that is pleased with the non-verbal communication between the two of you and how far that it has come, even with so much time between the last time and now.
There's also a part of you that's willing to beg to have him in your mouth right now, but you'd rather not make that one so obvious just yet.
"Why don't you come get your reward then?"
Well, so much for the 'not making it that obvious' plan.
Slowly and gently setting the camera down on the only, lone dresser in the entire room, you just as carefully shrug off the robe you had been wearing — long, loose sleeves tending to be a bit of a detriment for these sorts of activities, best to be nimble and able to do whatever it is that you need to do.
The fact that you don't know what that is yet quite possibly the most enticing part of it.
Spending more time with the man in casual settings, you find it charming as well as that much more sexy to see the way he so easily slips into that dominant role. Not that long ago flustered and shy about you catching him in the kitchen in the same open suit coat that he adorn now.
Closing the distance between you and carefully settling down onto your knees between his legs, you watch as his hand slip down and beneath the fabric that still offer coverage from your sights — palming his growing erection just under, and worse than that — still maintaining that devilish eye contact with you like nothing capable of pulling his vision from yours.
"What do you want?" He asks with a sultry groan to him.
And still maintaining that initial desire to not completely give in to his whims, you instead decide on a bit of turnaround. Biting your lip, you look him straight in the eye to deliver your reply. "What do you want?"
It does give him a bit of pause perhaps — a single eyebrow perking up at the slight bit of defiance you dangle before him, but rather than deter him, he leans into it in full.
And you had not calculated the risk of being told precisely what it is that he wants from you accurately, either.
"I want you to spit on my cock, and then I want to watch you gag on it until I come."
It's a total knockout of a response, just like that. Throat running dry and heart thumping hard in your chest at the promise of exactly that, Doyoung's eyes remain on you as he offers you nothing more than a small shrug at your inability to properly digest the information.
"You asked," He adds with a much too sly smirk.
Hand shifting to be removed from his pants, Doyoung runs his thumb over the tip of his length to gather the bit of precum that's since gathered there, and upon its exit, he whispers a simple "come here" as he extends it towards you and presses the digit between your all too accommodating lips to suck him clean. Wet and wrapping around it, you run your tongue around him and offer a gentle suction before the man hooks into the corner of your mouth with a deeply wanting groan.
"Get what you want, then."
Taking his hand back from your face, you waste little more time before hooking your own fingers into the sides of his trousers and giving them a tug — hips lifting off of the flooring for just a moment to allow for the shift — you bring the fabric down just enough to be out of the way, watching as his cock springs free and the tip of it lie against his exposed abdomen. Perching over Doyoung's hips, you take him into one hand, a few languid strokes to feel just how hard he already is before dipping your head down and taking him into your mouth with the swirl of your tongue.
Breath hitching in his throat at the feeling of you, it's one of your favorite things about sucking him off — always just a little bit on the verge of falling apart beneath you entirely as you do so.
Pulling off of him for a moment, you glance back up the length of his body to make eye contact with him once again before allowing the lewd display of saliva to fall from your puckered lips and messily onto his shaft in hand. Then, it's back to business, taking him deeper and fuller into your mouth with light suction and long, slow bobs of your head around him.
"Yeah, just like that, baby," Doyoung whispers out, head falling back to take in the feeling just briefly before bringing his gaze back up to watch the way you work him — not wanting to miss a moment of the show. "Love my cock, don't you? Can't get enough?"
Moaning around him in affirmation, the words cause you to stroke him just that much faster — enjoying the way he sounds when you have him like this.
"Think you can take it all this time?" He asks, voice slightly broken already. "Bet you practiced while we were apart, didn't you? Sucking other cock just in hopes that you can take mine that much better if you were to get the chance."
Throbbing between your legs far from dull at this point with a man never relenting in the dirty talk, you once again groan around him as you also feel yourself falling apart despite being wholly untouched thus far. You can't see him, but you feel the shift of his weight to free one of his arms for movement, followed by the familiar feeling of his fingers collecting loose strands of hair as he intertwine them into the collection of it at the back of your head.
Leverage.
There's truth to his words, though. Not so much about sucking off ever Tom, Dick and Harry in town just to practice for the inevitable resurrection of your sexual relationship with Doyoung specifically, but you had seen other men since then, and you had sucked some of their dicks.
You're a little proud of the progress made, sure.
Bringing yourself up enough that only the tip of him remain between your lips, you take a deep breath in preparation for what's to come — the gentle, careful press of his hand down against the back of your head to force more of his cock into your mouth...slowly, inch-by-inch and with no rush to have you take the entirety of him in one go, when he reaches the back of your throat you focus on steadying and relaxing yourself for him. Hissing through his teeth at the feeling of burying himself so deeply within your mouth and throat, as he ventures further, you feel the welling of tears in your eyes at the light discomfort of it.
It's not bad, and far from enough to not want to keep going — rather, the excitement of having so much of him far outweighing those things, anyway.
Slipping into your throat delicately, Doyoung instead opts for short, shallow thrusts into you for the rest of the way, and once he feels your nose against his pubic bone, he can't help the breathy moan that escapes from his lips.
It's heavenly, hearing him so desperate beneath you.
Pulling you back up and off of him slowly, the two of you look at one another — you with teary, wet eyes and swollen, red lips — you think that the darkness in his eyes deepens just that much more at the sight of you destroyed on his cock before him.
"Think you can take it again?"
"Yeah."
"Such a good girl. Go ahead then, swallow me down."
Repeating the previous motions, before your nose settles against his skin, Doyoung instead opts for slow drives of himself into your mouth — gently throat fucking you with dizzying, incoherent sounds melting from his lips as you take just about all of him inside of you like this. It takes very little time before you hear and feel the familiar notions of him reaching his peak, a few harder, deeper drives of his cock up and into your mouth through his attempt to maintain his composure that have you gagging around him ever so slightly, and just as promised.
"Fuck, you take it so well now," he all but whines, eyes screwed shut and eyebrows knitted tightly together as he shallowly bucks his hips up into your mouth to chase his release. "Wanted to earn my cum, didn't you?"
You can't grace him with an answer, and he knows it well enough — the dirty talking is for you, really, knowing the way that every word pools between your legs — an unrelenting throb there now and unknowing if you'll be offered the same release that the man under you be about to experience.
In a way, you almost don't even care if you cum.
Suddenly, Doyoung pulls your head up and off of him completely to instead replace it with his hand — quickly stroking himself to completion only to empty his load on the expanse of exposed skin along his abs and sternum with a hot, heavy, whiny vocalization.
Catching your breath for only a second, in one, fluid motion you dip your head down to lick the white-translucent fluid off of his body as his chest heaves just above where you work.
Turning your head to grant you the ability to look up at him, the two of you make eye contact once again as your tongue dips out to collect his cum. Head falling back, he lets out an exasperated moan at the sheer sight of your desire for him.
"Ride my face," he suddenly demands, hands reaching down for your arms and already pulling you up and towards him. "Now. Come on my face."
A dizzying request from him and not one you had factored into the potential possibilities, you don't bother inquiring further as you struggle to your feet and discard your garments as quickly as possible before wobbling over to him and kneeling above his face with creeping uncertainty.
Doyoung wastes no time, however, digging fingers into the flesh of your behind and pulling your soaking cunt flush against his mouth — digging his tongue firmly into your clit and offering you the much needed relief you had been hoping for. Whimpering in his grasp, he goes at you hard and fast straight from the get go in a way that has you reeling with the threat of an orgasm that you knew wouldn't be all that far off from the horizon, anyway.
"Doyoung, fuck—"
Moaning against you, the vibration tickling your sensitive nub just that much more as he quickly circles over it with far more than just expertise, you find yourself thankful for the close proximity of the wall just behind him as you fall forward slightly and find leverage against it. "Fuck, fuck, I'm gonna come, I'm gonna come—"
You sound somewhat surprised by the fact, large in part because you are. Not that you anywhere near able to follow the flow of time, rather, you know that it certainly hasn't been long since having made your way up here, and already Doyoung is having you tumbling over into orgasm.
In the last moments before you cum; grinding down hard against the mans mouth as he groan up into you and fingers digging into you flesh to hold you in place — you look down ever so briefly to find his eyes — narrow, lustful, and with a job to fulfill right before you come with an embarrassingly high pitched shriek, thighs quaking around his head as you bite the tail end of your yell back and indulge in the feeling of him sucking any coherent thought that you could ever possibly have in that moment straight out of you through your pussy.
And as you wind down from the exhaustion of your early morning escapades, you shakily crawl off of him, clumsily falling to the floor next to him and heaving in the afterglow of ecstasy. The two of you enjoy the silence for just a moment before Doyoung turns his head lazily to allow his eyes to fall upon your weary form.
"Breakfast?"
Huffing out an exhausted laugh, you can't help but smile at the nonchalance of it all as you grant him a nod. "Yeah, that'd be great."
"Cool," he says, bringing himself up and to his feet to shrug off the suit jacket entirely and leaving it bunched up on the floor next to you. "You suck my dick like that again and I'll cook you a six course meal every day until Mina gets home."
"Good to know."
With your nose buried in your laptop and comfortably sat in the lavish living room with no company other than yourself, you tab away at your keyboard to answer work emails and respond to other such employment related inquiries. Approximately a week into your stay at the current residence, you find yourself quite easily settled in by now: the two of you working on your own for the majority of the day, occasionally meeting in the kitchen or the hallway as either you or Doyoung come to and from your standard whereabouts, and, if given the free time at a whim — a quickie where ever either of you wish to have the other.
The entire circumstances fundamentally erotic — your entire being there at all deeply erotic in a sense — but with a week down and more rounds under your belt than days spent there already, you can't help but find that the simplicity of domesticity already setting in, in a way.
When Mina had suggested a sort of 'fake-dating' scenario, you hadn't anticipated it being so on the nose.
Because it truly does feel as though you and Doyoung are dating: engaged in a relationship beyond just the sexual, despite being intensely sexually charged and the entire surroundings of it being build off of that. You eat together, you chat together, you shower together occasionally — for all intents and purposes, you are, as Mina had suggested, dating; in some way, shape, or form.
It's not boring, but a sense of excitement and luster has already worn off in a way that you can't help but acknowledge. Of course, you still desire the man viscerally just as you always had the very moment you began your physical relationship with him...but the fact of the matter is just that: it's different now.
Upon sending out your last email at just before four in the afternoon, you shut your laptop in tune to the sound of Doyoung treading down the upstairs hallway and making his way down the stairs. Glancing up towards him, the two of you make eye contact, giving him pause for just a second before he continues his way down to the floor level of the home.
"What do you say about ordering in tonight, I don't feel like cooking again."
Dramatically throwing yourself back along the length of the couch, you swing your arm up and across your face like a damsel in distress at the mere thought of not being personally catered to. "What ever will I do? What's the point of even being here?"
He rolls his eyes at your overacting. "I'm going to order a pizza. I'll order two so that there are leftovers for tomorrow, then I can really punish you if I have to."
"Kinky," you quip back playfully as you bring yourself back up to a sitting position on the black leather. "Then what?"
Bringing his hands to settle on his hips, Doyoung simply stares at you with his head cocked to the side.
"If you think I'm going to be your tough, hard dominant boy-toy your whole stay then sorry to disappoint, but I'm only one man, I need some rest too, you know."
Of course, the banter is part of the fun of it. Something that the two of you have always engaged in, but as of late with the comfort of living together established, a new level of it unlocked. Easier and more fluid. Where once upon a time there be perhaps more truthful venom behind comments or words, instead now rest an adoring familiarity between the new faux-couple.
"Endlessly disappointing, aren't you?" You sigh in response, unable to fully hide your grin.
"So I've been told," he's quick to admit. "But if you're good tonight then there is something you might be pleased to discuss over dinner."
An intriguing promise of what's to come, and entirely unknowing of what it is that he be referring to, you find your curiosity to most definitely be piqued. Eyebrow quirking upward at the sly comment, you're mindful of the mischievous glimmer in his eye that you know to only present itself when the man have something very particular, and particularly raunchy, at that, in mind.
As the both of you settle into the smaller living room area just next to the dining room — fireplace lightly crackling in the not too far off distance and a cheap bottle of white wine opened and set on the tiny coffee table, as the television in front of you sounds off to fill the room with sitcom chatter and laughter, you glance over to the man just next to you: sitting with legs crossed in front of him and his plate balanced onto his lap as he bite into a slice of cheap, cheese pizza. It's a sight that you come to realize in the moment that you're unfamiliar with, all things considered: a particularly raw and true level of domesticity where Doyoung exist as just some guy, in the best way possible. You realize in this moment as well, that it's times like this that are likely cause for Mina's falling in love with him. A good man, after all — and more than that, seemingly perfectly well-rounded in all ways, as well.
Even so, as the flicker of illumination dances across sharp, pretty features — round, framed glasses perched upon his nose and rather unkempt hair in the front from a hand running through it numerous times that day — the conversation mentioned earlier weighs the heaviest on your mind with promise of, well, you don't quite know yet; but you sure would like to find out.
"So," you chime, semi-awkwardly on purpose and for effect. It's enough to garner his attention already, a man not all that wrapped up in the show carrying on before him to begin with. "About that talk."
"Right," he quickly responds with a single nod, setting the food down onto the plate in front of him and bending forward to set it onto the table between the both of you. "About that. I was curious how much of this...arrangement you were looking to explore in our time together."
The inquiry brings pause, finding the wording of it slightly difficult to navigate, because what does he mean by that?
You suppose your hesitancy is telling, however — Doyoung chuckling lightly under his breath before rephrasing the question more clearly.
"I mean...the first time we started sleeping together you were interested in exploring a rather dominant and submissive power play scenario. I'm wondering if you're wanting to explore that further."
'Further,' you think, being the operative word, and yes, yes you do.
Reaching forward for your glass of wine, you take a sip before answering him confidently. "Yeah, I've thought about it. I had done some exploring this past year but—"
Hesitating to think through your words carefully, Doyoung interjects with the thought you had been leaning towards anyway, and in a way, it proves your point just that much more.
"—Haven't established that level of trust with anyone?"
"Yeah, that."
He nods, finally spinning himself in place on the couch to fully face towards you. In a way he appears particularly earnest, as if even now still vying for that level of trust necessary to engage in the even harder, darker sides of BDSM as implied.
"Then," he says a bit more seriously than you would have ever really expected. "Tell me what you want."
You suppose that as far as situations that require a more serious touch, this be at the top of his list.
It's not something that you've spent all that much time thinking about, however. No list of 'things to try' on hand or a bullet pointed note on your laptop of all of the ways in which you wish for him to have you. Rather, they be fleeting, passing moments that you find yourself fantasizing about in private, discarded just as quickly as they find themselves making way into your mind.
But you do know that they still lie embedded in there somewhere, you just have to dig them back up.
As well as relay them to him in plain, simple words. It's not only an admittance of desire, but one of confession: 'this is all of the ways I've wanted you even since then.'
You swallow down the bubbling humiliation though, knowing that if not capable of bestowing upon him precisely what it is that you want of him that he be in no position to grant it to you.
He needs to know everything, because he has to have a plan.
"Restraints," you begin, inhaling deeply after the word leaves your mouth. "Orgasm control, impact play...basically all of the same but turned up a notch."
Doyoung nods, reaching towards his own glass of wine and sipping from the rim. Then, after thinking through your words, he offers another nod of understanding.
"Okay, then here are my rules: first, the same safe wording system will remain in place, we both know it and are familiar with using it so I think that's best. Second, no renegotiation mid-scene, it makes it difficult for me to be able to have an understanding of where you are and also gives me cause to have less trust in your word—"
Pausing again and with his head tilted down towards his lap, he glances up through his eyelashes at you for explicit eye contact in that moment.
"—And if I'm going to hit you, I need to be able to trust your word of when it's just enough, or too much."
"Yeah, of course."
"Cool," he finally sighs, dropping the tough and serious exterior to once again fall back into the Just A Guy role he had previously been enjoying. Doyoung slumps to the side and against the back of the couch with a contented grin as he finishes up his thought. "Tomorrow evening, then? Doesn't have to be then—"
"No!" You nearly shout, already thrilled with the thought of all that's soon to come to you. "No, tomorrow is good, perfect."
Standing to his feet, the man reaches down to take both of your plates into hand with intention of heading towards the kitchen. "I'm going to head to bed then. Long day, tomorrow will be longer now — try to get some good rest tonight."
Needing no verbal response, you sit back comfortably against the large cushions of the couch as he begin to head towards his exit — it's then, that a sudden thought comes to mind in an instant, and before your window for negotiation truly closes, you have to put it out there, now or never.
"Oh! Doie? One more thing about the scene tomorrow?"
He hums in acknowledgment of your words, merely glancing back and over his shoulder at you in wait for what it is that you wish to add.
"When you hit me...leave your wedding band on."
Snorting through his nose with a chuckle, the man playfully shakes his head at the thought and the implications behind it — just as quick on the uptake of one of the joys of kink exploration within the confines of this arrangement.
No one is cheating on anyone, doesn't mean we can't pretend, though.
"Kinky minx," He responds coyly, dumping the dishes into the sink and disappearing into the darkness of the otherwise unlit household.
"Shall we?"
Doyoung's voice is calm and pleasant when he asks the question. There's a hint of knowing within it, a playful nuance in regards to what's to come from here on out that already has anticipation pooling between your legs in a relatively unexpected way. You were excited for tonight, of course, but a physical response as a result of him merely alluding to it not exactly something you had foreseen in your future.
You recall Mina telling you how good of a dom he is a year ago.
The evenings festivities call for a one drink maximum: a rule implemented by the man himself to ensure that the parties involved be well aware of themselves and within the grips of their own feelings and boundaries enough to ensure safe play. One drink offering plenty to take the buzz of nervousness edge off, after all.
Dinner is light. Enough to keep the both of you fed and fulfilled without weighing either of you down, especially when you can't be sure when or if you're to be gagged — and beyond that, on what, you'd rather not take the risk of throwing up all over him — at least, minimize it as much as possible.
None of this is all that new to you, though. You've played before, partaken in kink and gone to parties before. Engaged in such things with people who are not Doyoung in between then and now — but as you quietly follow him downstairs and into the basement below, you find yourself so much calmer with him that with any of your previous play partners before.
It's not a matter of poor vetting and even poorer partner choices: you've had fun, it's been safe, and everyone has left satisfied. However, there just be something special about your play partner now — a level of trust and understanding between the two of you that takes an edge of uncertainty from the back of your mind and discards it entirely.
You don't have to worry about him, not even a little bit. As a result, you don't have to worry about you, either.
"I can't believe you two have a dungeon, how cliche," You sarcastically quip as your foot lands onto the floor at the end of the stairs.
Doyoung glances at you briefly from over his shoulder and shoots you a roll of his eyes. "It's not a dungeon, we just wanted to keep the upstairs bedrooms available for guests. We had no other plans for the basement, so—"
"—So, you turned it into a dungeon," You finish for him.
Walking over to a small, unceremonious table, Doyoung pulls out a tube of hand lotion from one of the old, brown drawers and squeezes a small dab of it into palm. "If calling it that gets you off, then by all means."
As the man settle in and begin preparing for the activities, you take it upon yourself to glance around and take in the sights. Truly, it's nothing like the fancy, mommy-porn movies: no huge rigs or handcuffs hanging from the ceiling. Rather, it's sort of just a regular room — obviously re-done since moving in to serve this purpose specifically, you take notice of the king sized bed off at the furthest end of the rather small underneath of the home — satin, royal blue sheets and a single pair of restraints hanging from one of the golden bedposts there.
"Have you ever played submissive?"
It's a question that's rattled around your brain for a while now, suppose now is as good a time as ever to sate the curiosity. Doyoung comes up from behind you so quietly that it nearly startles you with another pair of wrist binds in his grips, and as you glance back and the two of you make eye contact, he reaches out for your hand — slowly fastening one of them to your wrist before answering the question.
"If you must know, yes," He says, tightening the restraint against your skin just firm enough for a good hold, and without causing pain. "One of those...'you gotta try it once' sort of situations."
"How did that go?" You ask further as he spins you in place to face him, fastening the other half of the tan leather to you. Doyoung offers you a sly grin first, slowly stepping you backwards on your heels and towards the bed, before gently tipping you and causing you to fall flat on your back to the mattress below.
"Didn't take."
While restraints, you find, aren't typically your thing, it's a situation in which you feel comfortable with him. You question momentarily if there be any other person in the world that you would be willing to be in this current scenario with: bound and laid out against the sheets of someone's basement bed, and the answer is a quite easy and resounding 'no.'
"Recite back the safe word system," He demands, tone dropping in a way that you know this be the beginnings of the scene at hand. You watch him as he rolls up the sleeve of his white, button down shirt — more or less still dressed up from the work day just before — sort of the archetype of the CEO dominant man that while typically you don't find yourself creaming yourself for...this time, it's sort of working for you.
"Green is good to keep going, yellow to slow down and lighten up, red is full stop to the scene. If unable to speak: two taps to someone's body is effectively a yellow sign, and three is a red sign."
"Good girl," he chimes, squatting down to the edge of the bed between your legs and hooking fingers into the sweatpants you're wearing. "Scene renegotiation?"
"Only to lessen, never to strengthen."
Pulling the fabric down your legs, panties and all, you feel the rush of cool air against your flesh in a particularly stark way — your body temperature seemingly already flaring up at just the mere discussion of the rules from here on out, you find this to also be an unexpected turn out of tonight's engagements.
"Sit up," He then requests; a near impossible task for you alone given your bind. He knows this, naturally, and reaches for the center of your restraints to pull you upwards and seated just as he desires.
Cold fingers just grazing the flesh of your torso as he grabs at the hem of your shirt and brings it up over your head, it's electric — felt through what you think could be every nerve of your body with barely any physical touch at all.
A worrying trend for your resolve tonight.
With you fully disrobed, Doyoung pushes you to lie back again, dipping down into his previous position and hooking his arms under your legs to pull your bottom to the edge of the bed. It's exciting already: the anticipation of what's to come and what he will do with you — relinquishing all power and ability to be an engaging participant in your activities in a way not yet engaged in since your time arriving in the home.
It's then that he dips a single finger between your folds — the touch is delicate, barely offering you any sort of stimulation at all, and as a result, you're already keening and attempting to melt yourself into his touch. This, of course, gives him great pleasure at the sight of you already so needy and wanting for him — evidenced on his face as he looks up at you from between your legs and gives your clit the lightest feathering of a swirl with the tip of the digit present there.
"In a rush?" He asks teasingly, still circling the collection of nerves between your thighs.
A dizzying offering of almost nothing to your body despite knowing how you crave his touch.
"What do you want?" Doyoung questions as if speaking to no one in particular, finger dipping down towards your opening and shallowing pressing inward as if intending to penetrate you. "I take it you want me to fuck you open with my hand?"
With a small whimper dropping from your mouth, he hums inquisitively. "Feel my tongue on you? Taste you like you have the last cunt on earth?"
"Yes," You finally whine in reply, but the response from you garners nothing from the man in question.
Instead, and in a rather surprising turn of events, Doyoung gives you just that: carefully slipping a single finger into you, slowly fucking into you with ease as a result of the ample arousal already having pooled there. It's shallow, slow, and far from enough to get you anywhere you're wanting so desperately to go, but better than nothing — a moment later, you feel the heated waves of breath across your labia as he brings his mouth mere centimeters from your mound.
Nearly instinctually you attempt to grind yourself down and against his hand and face, but it results in little given your lack of mobility. A light chuckle offered from him as a result of your wanting, you feel him press his lips lightly against your lower ones, but only to speak.
"You think I'm going to let you come?" He questions, offering one, long, stripe of his tongue through your slit finally and giving you the warm, wet, contact that you've been silently begging for. "You still want it even though you know I won't, that's how desperate you are for me, isn't it?"
Whining out a breathy affirmation of the fact, he serves you another press of his tongue against you for what you can only figure is 'good behavior.'
"I can always make you come so quick like this, can't I? Like your pussy was made for me—" He carries on the thought, pausing long enough to drag his tongue over you languidly and pulling from you the most desperate whines each and every time. "Body made for me, isn't it? Your mouth, your throat, your cunt, your ass...all mine for the taking, aren't they?"
The moan that tears from your throat at the words is nothing sort of humiliating.
"Answer."
"Yes, they are," You force yourself to reply through a breathy, broken voice.
"I know, you're so good for me. What a perfect little toy for me to come inside and toss aside until next time, aren't you?"
You don't have a chance to respond before his mouth is attached to you, tongue digging firmly into your clit and the sound of him sucking into you resonating through the otherwise empty basement. Eyes screwing shut, you only have a second of self-awareness to realize that he really might be able to make you come in record time at this rate. Curling his fingers up into you and running his tongue across you in just the way that he knows gets you there, you whine out loudly — back coming up and off the bed as he seemingly tries to get you there already.
"Fuck, fuck—" you breathe out as your body finds itself on the precipice of orgasm, but as a man all too good at what he does; expert hands and mouth bringing you just to the brink before pulling back from you entirely and watching your body tremble at the feeling of the loss. "—Doyoung please, please please."
"And what have you done to earn it, hm?" He asks, leaning forward and over your body to take your bound hands into his grasp and sit you upright at the edge of the bed before him. Still shaking lightly from the feeling of a ruined orgasm, hair strewn about your face and eyes glazed over from the need — Doyoung looks down at you with a gentle cock of his head as if charmed by the sight of you already so fucked out with so little having taken place yet.
Hands reaching down for his belt and subsequently releasing his erection from the confines of his black trousers, you're forced to watch him lightly palm himself just in front of your face.
How familiar a sight it is.
"You know how to earn it, don't you baby?"
You nod, although it's not enough for the man before you. "Answer."
"Yes, I can earn it."
"Good girl," he says, angling the tip of his length down and to your lips, only lightly dragging across before gently tapping you with it as a signal to open your mouth for him. "Though, suppose this is a bit of a reward in and of itself, isn't it? You love my cock, isn't that right?"
With only the tip of him presented between your lips, you're able to still speak around him. A simple "I do, please let me earn it" falling from you before you're able to even register the words and the meaning behind them.
It never gets old the way this man can have you falling apart with ease.
Hand dipping to the back of your head, Doyoung pulls you forward and sheathes as much of himself inside of the warmth of your mouth as he comfortably can at first — just like the last time, there's no aim for discomfort or pushing any particular limits this time — rather, he understands yours and your abilities well enough by now to know precisely the best way to go about having you, and equally as much, allowing you to have him.
Lips firmly wrapped around him, with each pulling back of your head, you look up at him to meet eyes — narrow, dark ones staring down at you to watch the way his cock disappears inside of your body.
"Fuck, that's it baby," he whispers out as he begins to gently drive himself into your face. "Such a pretty face, just made for me to fuck."
But for as much as Doyoung knows you and your body, the same can be said for you and his — you know this sort of engagement to be his weakness, and for all of the chiding he does at your inability to hold out on him, the very same can be said for him in these situations.
Bringing his hand forward and from the back of your head, he instead grasps your jaw, prying it open forcefully so. "Open, swallow it down. Take it all."
Giving you little time to adjust, you feel him press his hips forward and as a result, begin the drive of his cock down into your throat. Gagging around him, he pulls off quickly. "Color?"
"Green."
And with that, he serves you another, direct press of his length down into your throat. Easier this time, but the sound of your heaved breaths and gurgling around him as your nose meets his flesh going straight to that place deep within him that you can tell makes him want to come at a moments notice. As a result, he pulls back and from your mouth entirely — giving you a moment to catch your breath before grabbing at your chin once again and forcing your mouth open for him.
"My little cockslut has gotten so good at that. You sound so pretty when you're gagging around my dick."
Leaning forward, he allows a small dropping of saliva to fall from his mouth and into yours before once again pressing his length between your lips and shallowly fucking your mouth with a few, quick, thrusts.
"You want my come?" He asks firmly, stepping away only enough for the tip of him to rest against your mouth.
"Yes."
And then it comes: one light, open-palmed snap of his wrist against the side of your jaw.
"I don't believe you, make me believe it."
"Yes! Yes, please come in my mouth, please let me taste you, Doie."
Tightly gripping your jaw again, he holds you in place to rub the mess of saliva and precum thoroughly around your face — so wet that it's nearly dripping from you — Doyoung smiles down at you at the sound of the pet name leaving your mouth.
Because that's when he knows you're really fucked up for him.
Another, slightly harder tap of the inside of his fingers to your jaw — it doesn't hurt and it's far from jarring in any way, but the implications of it within the scene driving you absolutely wild in the moment, you're happy you asked for this in particular.
The glimmer of his wedding ring still present on his hand, all the while.
"So nice of my wife to offer me such a compliant play-thing to use as I wish while she's gone," he says, finally dropping his pants to the floor entirely and beginning the unbuttoning of his shirt as if to soon discard it entirely. "Suppose now I get to decide which hole I want to take, don't I?"
You nod, and as a result, Doyoung lands the hardest connection of his hand to your face that he's given you thus far. This time, enough to actually cause your head to move a bit, as well as the slightest sting to the skin.
"How many times do I have to instruct you to answer? Are you already so fuck-dumb that you can't remember one, single rule?"
"No! I know it, I'm sorry!" You quickly amend with a shake of your head. "You can have anything you want from me."
"I know," he plainly responds, as if already grown tired of the discussion at hand. Simultaneously, Doyoung pushes you to the side and back against the bed, only this time pulling you up by the hips and displaying you bent over and lewdly spread open for him at the edge of the bed. "I'll take what I want, that is your purpose here, after all, isn't it?"
"It is," You quickly answer this time as to avoid punishment.
Feeling the tip of his cock pressed against your opening, you hear the man chuckle from behind you at the sight before him. "Your messy little cunt is practically dripping. Begging to be filled with me. Pathetic."
The words garner a whimper, and pathetic is correct as you feel him drag the length of his cock up and down your folds in a simulation of fucking you. Slow, concentrated drives against you, but not into you, that have you keening and attempting to push back and onto him in a way that is far beyond humiliating — a new low for you, even given your previous encounters. You don't think you've ever needed to feel him this badly, and worse than that, you know that he knows it, too.
You're thankful when he readjusts his position, feeling the tip of him pressed at your opening again followed by the smooth, easy glide of his full length into you. A dizzying feeling of being so full of him after what feels like an eternity of being denied him in so many ways, Doyoung sinks into you from behind and sits flush against your ass for only a moment before leaning forward and harshly gripping his fingers into your hair.
Followed with a hard, rough, snaps of his hips into you that has you nearly toppling forward at the momentum of it.
"You thought I was going to fuck you for you?" He breaths out, venom lacing his tone as he delivers another, harsh, thrust into you. "You're nothing but a hole for me to fuck, and come in."
Pressing your face into the mattress, the man then focus entirely on his own pleasure: chasing his release as he fucks you hard, quick, and selfishly. No concern for the proximity of your orgasm as a result of him.
The irony being, of course, that after so much lead up to this moment, you're just about there, anyway.
Stopping briefly and much to your display, Doyoung comes around to the side of you to release you of your restraints, but as he settles in behind you and sinks into you all over again, you feel him lean forward to retrieve both of your wrists and twisting them behind you — new, better leverage for him to use your body with like this.
"God, your cunt feels fucking heavenly," he groans through rough drives into you and over the sound of your pathetic, fucked-out babbling just below. "Useless bitch not good for anything but taking my cock, guess you're good for something, after all."
"Fuck, Doie—" you whine out at the culmination of words and the feeling of him relentlessly pounding you.
"Yeah? Is the little whore gonna come anyway? Even when I just try to use your body to dump my load in, it still gets you off, that's how much you love it, huh?"
He's right. This one might keep you up at night in the future.
"Yes—" you whimper breathlessly, dangling on the edge of your now inevitable release. "Yes, yes, yes, please I'm gonna come—"
"Fine," he hums, similarly close to his own peak. "Come then, want to feel you milk me when I fuck my load into your messy little pussy."
And so you do. Your orgasm ripping through your body hard and quick — shrieking loudly against the mattress as Doyoung continues to pound you through it — shaking and clawing at nothing attainable as it tears through every inch of your body. You're barely aware enough to hear him groan out from behind you as his own takes him: cock deeply buried into your walls as he unloads inside of you — cock so hard and deep that you feel the pulse and twitch with every rope of cum that he delivers to your insides.
Slowly, carefully pulling from you, listening for the way his breaths are heavy and worn from the scene having just played out to perfection, as you fall to your side to lie flat against the bed to catch your own you feel the gentle, careful dip of the mattress from just beside you as he settles in just the same.
Silence blanketing between the two of you, you inhale to speak — only to be cut off by words of his own in an entirely unsurprising and frankly, shocking way.
"I'm sorry."
"What?"
The snap question comes out before you have a second to even really mull over what it is that he could be apologizing for, because frankly, everything went on without a hitch. It was everything you had wanted and maybe even more, and now he's apologizing for it?
Arm slinging up and over his face as if to hide himself from you in a way, Doyoung sighs. "You know I don't mean that stuff right? About this being the only reason you're here? I feel kinda..."
"You're dropping right now," you interject suddenly, reaching over to take his hand into your to offer him some seemingly much needed soft, physical comfort. "What do you say we head up to that big tub you guys have in the upstairs bathroom and take a nice, cozy bath?"
With a delicate squeeze of your hand, you take it as an accepting of terms — not even bothering to dress before escaping the basement and wobbling yourselves up to the next scene on the agenda: aftercare.
"When did you know you wanted to marry Mina?"
Sat up against one end of the tub with Doyoung's back to you, you run soapy fingers through messy, black strands — nails gently grazing the flesh beneath in such a soothing way that you all but feel the man melting into you presence, he hums at the question before sighing to answer it.
"Quite early in our dating, actually," The man replies confidently, head tilting back so that you can lather him up better. "Maybe three, four months in I felt like she was going to be the woman I spent the rest of my life with. Of course, we were kids so we dated for a long time before taking the step, but I knew."
A charming side of him that you typically find yourself unfamiliar with — listening to him muse about the love of his life, your best friend, and the ease in which he does so even in the most intimate company of yourself.
"Cute," you whisper from just behind him, wetting your hands again before setting them back within his tresses. "Who knew you were such a soft romantic?"
"Hey! I have many sides to myself!"
Happy with your cleansing, you take the shower nozzle into hand and instruct him to dip his head back towards you even more to gently rinse the suds from him, and once rid of them entirely, you delicately press his head back upwards to wrap your arms around his shoulders.
"How are you feeling?"
"Better."
Planting a kiss to an exposed shoulder blade, your lips linger there as if to speak directly into his skin. "Have you ever dropped like that before?"
Doyoung chuckles at the question, as if slightly humiliated by the answer as he nods his head in affirmation of it. "Yeah, Mina could tell you plenty a story about coddling me after a particularly rough dom drop."
But rather than shameful, you find it adding a new level of humanity to the man that only allows for you to appreciate him and the role that he take on just that much more.
"You did well," you offer him in solace with a squeeze of your arms that encompass him. "It was amazing. I couldn't imagine playing like that with — well, anyone who isn't you, I suppose."
Reaching to find your hand, he takes it into his and presses the back of it to his lips for a small peck.
"Good, I'm glad. I had fun, too."
After drying off and heading back down to the kitchen for a late night, before bed snack, as the both of you head into your separate directions for sleep, it crosses your mind to ask him to spend it with you.
You find in the next two weeks that the majority of the time is spent much like the first: working from the home and occasionally meeting with your live-in partner for silly activities when the time should meet and the interest strike: the occasional blowjob in the kitchen, or being eaten out against the upstairs railing of the hallway — and if time really permits, bent over the back of the couch where you typically work from. Suppose it can be chalked up to the excitement of a sort of honeymoon phase shared between the two of you, after all, this just be yet another arrangement with an end date, and if the effort is to show, then you both have every intention of getting your proverbial moneys worth.
In the midst of a particularly slow work week for you, and a much heftier one for Doyoung, you find him out and about much less — earlier so offering you the handling of his credit card to order food to the house as you see fit on account of him having little to no free time to do any of his usual cooking — you accept it with a bit of a dropped heart. Sure, there's joy in having free reign of a rather full bank account not belonging to yourself, but more than that; the enjoyment of spending time with him now cut incredibly short and on a whim.
Your relationship together has shifted. It's not necessarily just sex (although that still be a large portion of it), but rather, the two of you melding together in a way that you figure neither of you had really seen coming. Enjoying the company of each other in non-sexual settings — in fact, you come to realize that dinner be one of your favorite times of the day as you wind down from working hours and instead just chat about normal, everyday things. Goings on in the world, work, maybe even some gossip about friends — a bizarre realization, and so far into your time spent here now: you and Doyoung are friends.
Sure, friends that viscerally enjoy the body of the other, but still just friends aside from that.
Waking late one night on account of what in particular — you can't be so sure — you grab your phone from next to you to read the time: a quarter past three in the morning. Having grown accustomed to the bed in which you currently lie, you settle your head back into the pillow to once again meander off to dream land; that is, before you hear the familiar clattering of keyboard typing from down the hall.
It's not that you can't sleep through it, you most definitely can — the sound not carrying far or loud enough to disturb you all that much — rather, it's the thought that Doyoung be up still, this late at night, and to work, at that.
Kim Doyoung is many things. Workaholic high on the list, certainly.
Slipping your robe on over your shoulders like so many times before, you once again carry yourself down the hall quietly — as if meant not to awaken anyone despite being the only two people in the home — as you reach the doorway where his study reside, you listen in for the sound of the keyboard again before entering and disturbing him in full.
But instead, you're met with silence.
You know what you've heard, though, and turning into the door, you suppose you can't be all that surprised by the sight that greets you: a man slumped back in his chair, head tilted back and against the headrest, utterly unconscious as the bright, blue light of the monitor before him illuminates his handsome features.
At the very least you're happy to find him comfortably dressed for late night engagements like this — gray sweatpants and a matching gray pullover sweater with the name of the widely regarded college that he had attended years back — you take it upon yourself to step towards him and with a gentle hand pressed to his shoulder, you slowly shake him back to his senses.
"Doyoung," you whisper, an attempt to pull him back into a conscious state with as little startling as possible. "Doie, wake up."
Thankful for the ease in which he comes to, picking himself back up to sit straight and rubbing his eyes with the back of his hands, Doyoung blinks hard towards the screen before glancing up and towards you. "What are you doing up?"
"I could ask the same of you," You quip back, hands into your hips like a disappointed mother figure. "Let's get you to bed, Mister."
"Mom—" he drawls, playing along with the scene, but saving his work and shutting the machine down all of the same as he stands to his feet. "I don't wanna."
You sling an arm around his waist as his finds your shoulders — realistically the man have no problem walking, of course — but you find the scene charming all of the same. As you turn to your left in an attempt to take him to his bedroom, he fights the movement, instead pushing towards the right and down the hall towards your own bedroom.
"Lemmie put you back to bed, first," Doyoung insists, still motioning that way with his body weight against you. "It's the least I can do for you saving me from the grips of Excel spreadsheets."
A bit of a charmer.
Relenting, the two of you make your way down the darkened path and back into your bedroom. He lags behind you next to your bed, nimble fingers reaching into the neckline of your robe to help remove it from your body as you once again lie yourself in bed and cozy up within the sheets — still warm from your presence just earlier in the night.
Doyoung kneels down next to you, arms crossed against the edge and chin pressed into them as he gazes up at you.
"You're the most boring man I know," you start with a breathy chuckle. "Staying up late to do spreadsheets."
"Yes, I know," He willingly admits with a pleasant cock of his head. "Do you want me carnally?"
Reaching over your own body to playfully slap his arm, you opt out of answering the asinine question. Largely due to your awareness of it being rhetorical, but also in part to the both of you knowing that yeah, obviously you do. Embarrassing.
"Get some sleep." He finally says with finality to his tone, standing to his feet with intent to leave.
You figure, now is as good a time as any.
"Actually—" you start, the word coming out a bit more meekly than you had hoped when thinking it through in your head. You suppose it's the possibility of rejection that has to reeling with this sort of lack of confidence that is relatively unfamiliar to you. Still, you push forward with the inquiry; a disservice to yourself not to. "Would you sleep with me? Like, spend the night with me?"
The question gives him pause, and as a result, has you second guessing yourself, too.
"You don't have to, I mean, I don't know if you're not allowed or just don't want to, it's just—"
"—I'm allowed to sleep with you," he interjects suddenly to cut off your anxious word-vomiting, a small smile pulling at his lips as he continues the thought. "The only rule is we can't do anything in the shared bedroom, but yeah, I can spend the night with you."
"Oh," you whisper, perhaps the largest part of you not having anticipated this response after all. "Okay."
"Is that what you want?"
"Yeah, kind of." You answer with a tiny nod.
Instead of engaging in the conversation about it any further, Doyoung takes it as an opportunity to accept your terms and disrobe for the evening: you watch him intently, taking in all of the ways that his body move as he pull the shirt up and over his head to toss it aside — toned chest that you've seen so many times before now only visible through the slivers of illumination granted by the moon through your blinds — it feels intimate in a different way this time: like normal lovers. People not involved in an 'arrangement,' people who are simply dating and might even have sex with each other because often times, that's what people who are dating and attracted to each other do. Falling asleep in one another's arms in the afterglow of it, or maybe just falling asleep in one another's arms as the grand finale of the evening together.
His pants go next, and before you have much of a chance to think further on it, you feel the man slip into your bed and under your covers as you scoot across the mattress to the other side to accommodate for his figure.
"I picked out this mattress," he proudly chimes. "Good, right?"
"No wonder I sleep so well here, thing probably costs an arm and a leg."
"Yeah, it kind of did." Doyoung chuckles, turning to his side to face you.
Silence blanketing the room, with such little light shone in you find it difficult to keep track of where he is, or what he's doing whilst beneath the sheets with you. A gentle rustling of the fabric, you can't tell what he's doing until fingertips feather across the skin of your face to brush stray strands of hair from you.
He must have better night vision than you, and with even more of a shift of his body, you're met with the feeling of warm, minty breath on your face as he dips further into you for a kiss.
You meet him eagerly, maybe even too much so with teeth lightly sinking into his bottom lip and eliciting an ever so slight groan from him at the feeling. He's happy to meet your advances, however, mirroring the motion before parting lips and pressing his tongue into yours.
Barely creating space between you, he instead opts to speak directly into your waiting mouth. "This why you asked me here? Doesn't seem like you're trying to sleep."
You had been originally, but plans do change.
Rather than offering him a verbal reply, you slip a hand down and between your bodies to wrap fingers around his length — already attentive to the stimulation in part — and pumping him gently, you revel in the way his sighs into your mouth; choked and broken groans caught in a dry throat at the feeling of you palming him so deliciously like this.
You're thankful for your night vision finally coming to you, and allowing you to take in the sight of half-lidded, wanting eyes staring back at you.
"It's late," Doyoung whispers first, a lazy reasoning as to why you shouldn't be wanting to partake in such lewd activities currently. But rather than engaging in the banter with him, you bypass it entirely with the one thing that you know will make the man putty in your hands.
Firm, long strokes of his cock in your hand, you once again bite into his lip with a breathy moan against him. "Doie—" you all but whimper into his mouth. "—please."
You get little time between the moment the word drops from your lips and when you find yourself pressed back against the mattress with him hovering over you. A grin of victory splashing across your features as you feel him tug your panties down your legs and toss them aside without much of a care, just as quickly coming back up to bring his mouth to your own with a bit more hungry intent behind it than before.
Reaching down between both of your bodies to position himself to enter you, Doyoung drags fervent, hot kisses down your jaw and to your ear that bring the temperature of your body up just that much more. A once dull throb between your legs now impossible to ignore and full of want as he rub his cock up and down your slit to spread your wetness around before attempting to penetrate you.
"You drive me crazy."
As his hips press forward and his cock begin to sink into you — with a lack of foreplay you find a particularly pleasurable burn that come along with the resistance he's met with upon entering a body not quite made to be ready to take him. Jaw hung ajar at the feeling of him prying you open slowly with shallow, timely thrusts, you exhale heavily against his face as he once again meets you eye to eye.
Seated flush between your legs, he pauses for a moment to kiss you deeply — rocking into you with little withdrawal in a way that has his pubic bone continually bumping against your clit — you whine into his mouth as he drinks it down between dips of his tongue into you.
Cock nearly fully buried inside of you at all times like this, you feel impossibly full of him as he grinds against the apex of your thighs. One hand brought down and gripping firming into your waist as if to hold you perfectly in place to take him, he feels suffocating in a whole new way that you find you've never quite experienced before: in the absence of immense dirty talk and power play — sex with Doyoung be just as intense and enveloping, all the same. A man all too in tune to the needs of your body and mind.
"Feel good?" He finally whispers against your face. You think him to be well aware of the answer already, though.
"Feel so good, so good," you whimper in an airy, stifled tone. "You feel so big."
"And you take it all perfectly."
The words send your brain buzzing, the coiling of release beginning in your abdomen as a result of the relentless pace he has set against your clit — thinking of how far, how deep his cock is buried within you a dizzying thought as he continues to rock against you with just the right rhythm that can have you sent over the edge in no time.
"I want to feel you come around me, baby. Can you do that?" Doyoung asks in a whisper against your cheek as he trails pecks of his lips across your hot skin.
Teeth pulling at your bottom lip as you try to bite back the sounds that threaten to rip from your throat as your orgasm looms on the precipice.
Nails digging into the flesh of your waist as he attempts to drag you down harder against him for more friction, it's just enough while his lips and teeth simultaneously suck into the skin of your neck to decorate you with pretty marks to send you barreling over the edge. Doyoung feels it more than anything as a hedonistic groan drops unexpectedly from his mouth at the feeling of your walls gripping down on his cock still buried well within you as you come.
A chanting whisper against the heated skin of your neck, "Fuck, that's it, just like that."
Riding you out properly through your orgasm, it's only then that the man release his grip on you: opting now for long, fluid drives of his cock into you to bring him to his own end. It doesn't take long after the feeling of you all but milking him for everything that he's worth only moments before — once again burying deep inside of you with the twitch of his length to release warm, wet, ropes of cum deep inside of your now dripping heat.
Head coming back up from your neck to gaze into your fucked-out eyes, his vision dances over your features for just a moment — taking in the sight of you before once again greeting you with a deep, adoring kiss.
Wincing from the stimulation of having just come as he drags his softening cock from you, Doyoung flops to the side of you with a heavy exhale — a hand mischievously finding itself between your legs once again to play with the mixture of cum and other such wetness left behind in the aftermath of your unplanned rendezvous.
"So," he sighs out as the tip of his middle finger drags up and against your all too sensitive clit. "Those spreadsheets, huh?"
How cruel the world is — the most exquisite cock being attached to the most insufferable man you could ever know.
As the last day at the residence finally comes around, you spend the days just prior expecting it to be bittersweet, in ways. Naturally, you're thankful for Mina's return as well as yourself reentering a life of normalcy compared to the rollercoaster of a getaway as you've spent the last few weeks — rather, you're none bitter and all sweet for all of those aforementioned reasons.
Of course, your relationship with Doyoung has reasonably shifted. A man that once only served as a mark of unappreciated and relatively unwelcomed contention, now having morphed into one of your most trusted and perhaps even in ways, adored, people in your life.
You contribute it mostly to the little things. The ins and outs of living an everyday life alongside the man — allowing to view him in a new way, and maybe even the way that Mina does — that casts him in a brand new light. Hardworking, thoughtful, and above all else: trustworthy.
Putting your care and well-being: emotionally, mentally, physically — in his hands, and not only coming out on the other end just as well as you had gone into it, but in ways, even better.
But don't tell him that, it'll go to his head.
On the last evening and after that aforementioned six course meal that you had never actually expected to come to fruition, as you find yourself comfortably seated on the loveseat in front of the television and just next to the warmth of a crackling fireplace, you gaze over the back of the cushioning: watching the man with rolled up long sleeves as he pop a last bottle of some expensive wine he got from who-knows-where as a sort of parting gift only shared between the two of you.
Two glasses in hand, Doyoung hands you one and you share a light tapping of rims before taking your first sips as he sits down next to you.
"Excited to get back home?"
Mulling over the question momentarily, you hum into the edge of the glass before taking another, small sip and setting it onto the table just in front of you.
"Yeah, I feel like I've been on vacation too long being here, it feels weird."
Chuckling, he matches your action before leaning his head against the couch to look at you. "You've been working this entire time, hardly a vacation."
"That's true."
"Imagine my surprise finding out that you do have a job that isn't simply being friends with my wife!"
Tossing your head back as if in utter disbelief that he really be bringing this joke back, you whine out your response to him. "Are you really going to do this again?"
"Have to keep things interesting still," he starts with a sly grin, reaching for your arm and lightly taking it into his hand by the wrist. "If I'm too nice to you, you won't want me viscerally anymore."
The physical touch serving as a motion to have to closer to him, you follow his lead — pushing yourself across the furniture and pressed up against him with your side. Playing mad, you choose to ignore the way his fingers feel against your skin, but harder than that: ignoring his breath against your ear as his face dips down and closer to yours.
More than aware of his ability to feel your skin raising beneath his touch, you instead make an attempt to bring attention away from it.
What's the harm in a little hard to get fun on the last night, anyway?
That is, if you can hold out long enough to make it such.
"Am I supposed to still want you after this is all over?" You ask firmly, as if none too affected by the proximity of his body to your own. "Like knowing that your wife’s best friend desires you sexually or something?"
"Sure," he admits without missing a beat. "Doesn't everyone like feeling desired?"
You opt out of responding, but your lack of one does not offer the reprieve you had hoped as he continue on with the thought.
"The taboo nature of the husband and the wife’s best friend—" he whispers into you, hand on your wrist now long since abandoning its position and moving across to your thigh.
Yes, you had worn a skirt on purpose knowing the plans for the evening. Plans to only play hard to get, after all. Not actually make it all that difficult to acquire.
"—Plus, you already admitted you still thought about it long after the first arrangement ended. Am I supposed to believe you just needed a month to get it out of your system and thus you've now grown tired of me?"
"I could go off it just fine," You continue the ruse, tone pointed and unaffected as his fingertips feather up and under the hem of the garment laid across your legs.
As the tip of his middle finger edges just up against the front of your panties, you delicately attempt to squeeze your thighs shut, only for the man to take notice and disallow it immediately.
"Spread your legs."
Of course, you do as you're told. Not yet relinquished from the grip that he has on you.
The problem lie in how electric his touch is — knowing just the right way of engaging with you physically, pressing all of the correct proverbial buttons that time and time again has to coming undone for him as quickly or as slowly as he would like, depending on the circumstances — with his hand curling into your underwear and a single digit pressing against your slit, you can just about feel the way his lips turn upward at your compliance for him even now. Until the very end.
"Is that so?" Doyoung finally says in acknowledgment of your obvious lie. Eyes thin and intent on you as you try your best to not make your want for him so damn obvious. "Well, you're going to have to, after all. I can't help but wonder, though—"
Pausing the thought as he gently penetrates you with a single finger and you subsequently melting in his grasp at the feeling of it — you know you've lost, but suppose even in that there is victory.
"—Who's going to make you come the way I do? Who's going to have you a whimpering, begging mess for them the way that I do? Who will you be able to relinquish all power and control to the way you do with me?"
You know that he's using it as dirty talk in the present moment, but you'd be lying if you said you hadn't been asking yourself the very same questions these last few evenings spent at the marital home.
Who is going to replace Doyoung in your life?
"We'll have to find you someone nice to play with," he begins again, pulling from inside of you and turning his attention to your clit with the very same finger, instead. "Well, not too nice."
'We.'
The idea that Doyoung will be by your side, aiding you in finding and vetting any future play partners because not only is his safety important to him, but your enjoyment, as well. The idea that although it brings him great pleasure to be that sole person in your life capable of bringing you to that level of sexuality, that he knows your arrangement unsustainable long term, and him not wanting you to miss out on it just because of his unavailability.
Guess you really do have to hand it to your bestie, she really landed a keeper.
As the first, small, whimper drops from your lips, the familiar feeling of Doyoung smiling against you returns again as he meets it with praise, as always. "There she is," he says, as if having been working to summon the version of you that lie dormant and waiting to fall apart for him as he see fit.
"Come here," he whispers against your ear, low and up to no good, you're sure. "Why don't you come sit on it?"
So much for playing hard to get, the promise of being full to the brim with him one last time all too enticing to play games with, Doyoung pulls his hand away quickly to shove his pants down his legs and out of the way as you bring yourself to a knelt position atop the cushions. Turning to face him, it's a sight that you think may never get old, and that you'll likely have carried with you forever should you be able to maintain it: Doyoung's slanted lean against the back of the couch in wait for you to straddle him — long, beautiful cock in hand as he lazily strokes himself in preparation to penetrate you, and eyes gazing straight up and into your own — always granting you his full and undivided attention.
Wobbling slightly as you position yourself over his thighs and gently bear down against him, the man angling his length just right for you to impale yourself upon him, as you begin your descent and enjoy the barely-there string of his stretch, Doyoung brings his other hand up to your face to pull you down and close to his own — lips just lightly meeting — as he speaks in hushed, hidden, words.
"Sit on it before my wife gets home, yeah?"
It's something that the two of you had ballparked playing with the entire time: the infidelity that not be taking place, but rather, the illusion of it. Roleplaying.
Vaguely dabbled in at the end of your first arrangement, you suppose it only fitting to close off this one, as well.
Sinking down on him slowly, you whine into his mouth at the words. Kissing you delicately at first — more teeth and tongue added to the mix with every inch of him you bury inside of your heat — as you comfortably settle down and into his lap in full, the both of you let out an exhale that neither had been aware of your holding as your eyes meet once again before resuming any movement.
"Good?"
You nod.
Lips grazing down your chin and jaw as he sucks gently into the skin just below, Doyoung barely presses his hips upwards and against you, only enough to pull a threatened hiss from your mouth at the feeling of him almost too deep inside of you.
"Gonna have to be quiet," he whispers into your skin at the reaction of feeling him. "We don't want the missus to hear, now do we?"
"God, you feel so big right now," you say, unable to help breaking character in the moment at how impossibly full you feel. The commentary pulls a breathy laugh from the man beneath you and a small shake of his head in reaction.
"I'm trying to do something new and you just want to default back to that old shit, huh?" He jokingly chastises, hands snaking around to grasp onto your hips as a silent beckoning to begin moving. "Yeah, I get it, it's big, can we move on!"
With the both of you laughing now, the mood feels a tad bit lost — perhaps the initial one, but not the whole mood entirely. Instead, it feels perfect an ending for such a long, sexually-charged, exploratory month — full of growth and understanding and...maybe even some love there, yeah.
Maybe it's not impossible that there be space in your heart for love for him, given everything. Not romantic, or platonic, or familial — but somewhere in between. All of them and none of them simultaneously.
"Fine, geez, never met a man so upset about hearing how big his dick is," You respond with playful annoyance, finally grinding your hips down and against him to garner just that right amount of friction from inside of you that has you both groaning out in tandem at the feeling.
Bringing one hand up from your lower body and making quick work of your blouse, Doyoung palming the mound of flesh that sit eye level with him as you ride him steadily — leaning forward, he wastes no time circling one of the sensitive buds with his warm, wet tongue before fully clasping around it with his mouth and continuing the motion as you fuck him from what might typically be considered for the majority of your engagements: switched positions.
Groaning into your flesh as you find the perfect rhythm for yourself — fingertips digging into the flesh of your hip as he desperately attempts to fuck up into you and match your movements, as he pulls his mouth away from you and you both make eye contact, you realize that perhaps for once you're not the one at the mercy of the other this time, and rather, it's him.
Whining out with eyes clenched shut and dropping his back down against the sofa again, it's a simple "fuck" that escapes him, and nothing else.
But you're pretty sure you know what that means, and for once, you're not even close.
"Already?" You ask, somewhat curious, but somewhat with intent to be a little bit annoying, as well. It works just as expected, eyes flashing open and at you with the most despondent expression you could have imagined.
"Don't be like that, God."
With his jaw clenched so tight you can nearly hear the sound of his teeth gritting, you bear your weight down onto him harder — taking his cock as deeply as you can before switching to full, lengthy, bounces of your hips atop him. The switch immediately has the man beneath you moaning, and with a little bit too much proverbial pep to your step, you lean down to close to distance between your mouth and his ear just as quickly as the thought comes to you.
It's not a whisper, you don't bother making it such: really, who is going to hear?
"Gonna have to be quiet, don't want the missus to hear, do we?"
"Hear what?"
The sound of a third voice feeling a bit like how time feels the seconds before a car crash happens — the sounds of tires screeching before the crunching and clanging of mangled metal — you can't even help the shriek that resounds from you as your eyes immediately pull up at glance over at the entrance to the kitchen from the doorway hall.
Throwing yourself off of Doyoung in a fit of humiliation of also due in part to feeling as though you've been caught fucking your best friends husband (for good reason, you suppose), the man only flings his arm up and over the back end to grant himself enough leverage to turn himself to look at the sight you've only just laid eyes on.
"Saved by the bell, welcome home, honey."
"You guys are so fucking weird!"
The screech coming from you, obviously. Pulling your clothing back into place hurriedly as Doyoung does the same in a much more lackadaisical fashion, you hiss towards him as if still trying to avoid allowing the missus to hear the both of your goings on. "Did you know she was coming home tonight!?"
"No," he chuckles. "But thank God she did, huh? Things were getting a little out of hand!"
With a light tap of your ass, Doyoung stands to his feet to go greet Mina — bags still in hand as she stand with a wide, adoring grin splashed across her face.
"Have fun while I was away, darling?" She asks knowing all too well the answer. Of course, Doyoung happy to play along. "She's incorrigible, my love. Not a moment spent free from her evil clutches."
"I'm sure," Mina replies, kissing him lovingly as he walks past her and into the kitchen, all the while feigning his dismay.
"Are you going to come say 'hi'?"
"Ideally if I wait here long enough I will simply melt into the couch cushion and cease to exist."
Mina rolls her eyes at the dramatics displayed by you. "You do know I already knew you were here fucking my husband all month, right? Like, it was my idea and everything?"
Sighing, you flop around on the sofa like a child throwing an uncontrollable fit. "I know! But it still feels so weird that you...saw it! Why do I feel weird and you don't?"
"Because standardized monogamy and societal assumptions and traditional versus non-traditional relationship models; I don't think you actually want me to explain to you why but — it's fine. I caught an earlier flight in, I kinda knew there was a chance I might catch you guys. I had texted him but you know how he is with his phone."
Silence. Mina sighs.
"Can you say something? Please don't melt into that loveseat it was almost ten thousand dollars."
That being the thing that has you jumping up and off of the furniture in shock and horror, you finally look up at your best friend from across the room — taking in the sight of her gentle and loving smile and in that moment, you accept this snapshot in time for everything that it is, just the same as all of the previous ones this month.
A reminder to take people at their word. To believe what they tell you if there is love between you. To have the bravery and respect to trust someone when even in the shroud of doubt — they tell you that it's okay.
And so, you run your palms over your blouse and skirt in a rushed attempt to clean yourself up ever so slightly, and with one footstep towards the woman that you've held dearest to you for so many years, you swallow down all of the nasty feelings that no one but you and the heavy weight of unrelated parties expectations cast upon you: because after all — that has nothing to do with the three of you, right here, and right now.
"Welcome home, Mina."
♡ send me your thoughts and feelings in my ask.
—this is part 2. part one [here].
#doyoung smut#doyoung x you#doyoung x reader#doyoung x y/n#doyoung imagines#doyoung scenarios#doyoung fanfic#nct smut#nct x reader#nct x y/n#nct x you#nct imagines#nct scenarios#nct fanfic
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𝐵𝑢𝑡𝑡𝑜𝑛 𝐸𝑦𝑒𝑠 | 𝐷𝑎𝑛 𝐻𝑒𝑛𝑔 𝑥 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 & 𝐵𝑙𝑎𝑑𝑒 𝑥 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟
Dan Heng :
You sat in a long dining table, empty chairs surrounded it except for the one that was the opposite of you at the other end of the table. He only read a book while he ate the fine meal he prepared for the both of you. The silence was so uncomfortable, the only reason why you were even back in this strange world was so that you'd be able to rest with a full stomach after working overtime as a waiter. You dipped your spoon in the warm dish that was freshly prepared. How was this place even real to begin with, how is it that dream food would be able to make you feel like you actually eaten something.
You took a spoon full of your meal before thinking back to as to how you even ended up here. You returned home from work only for you to then appear here the moment you closed your eyes upon entering it. As you tried to remember what happened before you appeared in this world, your felt a sharp migraine start. Such a sudden force of pain caused you to drop your spoon, the food falling from it and onto the floor. You close your eyes as you rubbed your temples, before feeling someone else's touch on you.
You opened your eyes to see Dan Heng next to you. Black hair, pale skin, and those cameo blue button eyes... You remember when you first entered this place. It was when you moved into this run downed apartment complex with some skeptical people as your neighbors. One of them was a young boy named Yanqing if you remember correctly... It wasn't until he gave you a button eyed doll of yourself that you fell into a world that wasn't yours.
"This is the other realm.." The stranger explained as he set down two plates for the both of you. "And who are you?" You then asked. He froze for a bit before sitting down across of you before answering. "I am what you'd call your other lover."
"Funny. I never had one before." You scoffed, crossing your arms. This was unbelievable, everything that was happening was.. "That explains why you're here then..." He muttered under his breath, you turned to look at him. He was looking down before he met your gaze. He cleared his throat before speaking, " Apologies.. It wasn't - I didn't mean it like that..."
"Yeah, sure..." You sigh.
-×-
"Are you okay?" He asked, bringing you back from your thoughts. "Uh- Yeah I'm fine.." You replied, the both of you were still in the dining room but this time the table was empty and not filled with food and desserts. You attempted to get up from your seat before Dan Heng gently sat you back down. "Stay here, you're probably experiencing symptoms of fatigue. I want you to sit here and wait, I'll come back with a glass of water for you before we take you to bed.." He explained before leaving.
Blade:
The man you knew as Blade walked beside you, the both of you touring the gardens of this strange world. The gardens filled with red spider lilies, a small fountain in the middle of the grounds. A small white roses floated in its waters..
You walked up to it, Blade following closely behind you. The water was crystal clear minus the roses that filled it. You could easily see your own reflection alongside Blade's but in the reflection his hair was white... it's probably just the lighting that made it look white. He barely spoke a word to you, only when he deemed it really necessary to of course.
"It's getting late. We should head back now, the food will grow cold.." He spoke, his voice was deep and detached. But that's to be expected from him, you grew used to his quiet nature since the few days you've known him for. "Just give me a moment." You spoke, taking a white rose from the fountain before turning to look at Blade. Dark navy blue hair with faded red tips, pale skin, significantly taller... But your attention went to his red eyes... Those red button eyes.
It didn't cross your mind as to why he had them for eyes. How was it even possible to have buttons for eyes? How was any of this real? Who even is this guy? What is this place? Why can't you- Suddenly you felt a sharp pain in your abdomen, nearly causing you to fall back if it wasn't for Blade stopping you from doing so. "Come on, let's get you inside already.." He spoke, taking the white rose from your grasp. The flower immediately welted in his grasp and fell to the ground as Blade led you to the building.
Upon entering your other home, Blade had you seated in the living room when he went to go get some water. You remembered the first time you set foot here, having to move due to complications from your former location. You thought the High Cloud Apartments would be a good place to stay. The neighbors were oddly very kind except for one you've met who was a young boy named Yanqing. One day when he was following you around, more than likely curious of the new person, he gave you this doll he found that looked exactly like you.
That was when you fell into this other world. Once falling here, you met Blade. "Just call me Blade. This is the other world you've found yourself in and I'm.. your other-" He mumbled the rest. It was later then revealed that he was your so called other lover? He didn't really seem to like the idea of it but didn't say anything after those words left his mouth.
You snapped out of your thoughts as the sound of a glass cup being set down was heard. Your eyes landed on the small cup, that Blade once held, was now on the coffee table before you. "Drink it and I'll help you up the stairs to your bedroom for you to rest."
#dan heng x reader#hsr x reader#blade x reader#honkai star rail#hsr x gender neutral reader#gender neutral reader
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Gold Rush
Azriel head canons inspired by Gold Rush by Taylor Swift
Azriel hated taking you to Rita's. He hated taking you anywhere for that matter- not that he was ashamed of you, no he'd never be ashamed of you. It was how every single male looked at you and then at him. Wondering how the Shadowsinger, the feared Spymaster of the Night Court got you as a mate.
The bond had snapped in place years ago, but it still felt new to Azriel. His heart still stopped a little whenever you flashed him a smile meant just for him, or the when your hand would lightly brush his arm when you walked past. He would do anything for you, he promised you as much that day when the bond snapped in place.
That promise is the exact reason why when you throw your arms around his neck, your face flushed and your breath smelling like the good wine Rhys keeps hidden from the rest of the Inner Circle and asks him to come along to Rita's to dance with you he immediately says yes before thinking and a smile as wide as your own spreads across his face, a smile he can't hold back, a crack in his usually cool demeanor that only you can crack
Azriel leans against the wall of the bedroom, watching you scramble to get ready to go dancing, at some point Mor floats in with another glass of wine for you and one for Azriel. He takes it from Mor, mostly to keep his hands occupied so they don't rip the navy blue velvet dress from your curves. He heard Rhys and Feyre return back from wherever their duties had taken them for the day, Rhys complaining that at this rate, he'll never have any good wine. Feyre joins in with you and Mor to get ready, the three of you trading heels and accessories and Mor trying to steal one of Feyre's dresses which Rhys immediately stops. Azriel finds comfort when you look over your shoulder, your hair held back by one of Mor's combs and smile with your pretty, red lips.
You held his hand tightly, you always hold his hand tight, he loves it when you do that.
All of you minus Amren walk to Rita's and you bump your hips into Azriel's as you walk along before he's tucking you into his side. Azriel presses a kiss to the side of your temple as you snicker at some story Cassian is telling but you quickly turn your attention to Azriel instead. "What was that for?" Azriel just shrugs "I need a reason to kiss my mate now?" You slightly blush as you shake your head "never"
When your group arrives at Rita's Azriel watches you, Mor and Feyre make a beeline to the dance floor, you sandwiched between Mor and Feyre. The three of you dance, your arms around each others shoulders spinning around. Azriel stands back with his two brothers, Cassian passing him a beer. He shoots any male a hard glare that so much as looks at you.
You never notice the attention though, your attention always on the Shadowsinger and not before long, your pouting and walking over "won't you dance with me?"
He always says yes, he'll always dance with you
He lets you lead him to the dance floor, his hands firmly on your hips, moving you to the beat
His favorite though is towards the end of the night, when a slower song is thrown into the mix, his head bent down to press against your forehead
You lean up grumbling about how. unfair it is that he's so damn tall, he huffs out a soft laugh that fans across your face as he mumbles that it's so unfair you're so damn short. You just playfully pinch his arm in answer as he sways the two of you.
He always offers to fly you back home since you've been complaining about the heels hurting your feet since you arrived at Rita's. You never learn. As much as you love flying, especially at night you always decline when he asks to fly you home in favor of walking through the city. It's just the two of you as you walk home, your friends having gone home or somewhere else. It's your favorite part of your night out and his too. He gets you all to himself.
You do let him scoop you up once you get closer to the apartment you have for nights when you don't want to be up at the House. He carries you inside, taking you to the bedroom, your eyelids heavy as you softly murmur a thank you for the night out.
Azriel presses a kiss to your temple, murmuring softly against your hair that he'll always take you out whenever you want, you just nuzzle your face closer into his neck in answer.
#acotar headcanon#acotar#a court of thorns and roses headcanon#a court of thorns and roses#a court of thorns and roses x taylor swift#azriel headcanons#azriel fluff#azriel x reader#azriel x you#azriel
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Appearances for the GG rivals au character.
I am no artist, so these will simply be written descriptions with a few images thrown in here and there. These are all subject to change at any time, as well, since this is still in its early planning stages.
For Gem, I imagine she looks a lot like in this gorgeous fanart, except her dress has slits up the side to allow for easier movement and her hair is a low bun with a braid wrapping around the front of her head, like this.
Scott and Impulse wear armour similar to how applestruda draws it in her au, with their cloths in shades of teal and yellow. Scott, I like to imagine, has long, back length hair, that he wears down and covering one eye. Impulse has shortly cropped hair and two little nubby horns that are tipped in black, as well as sharp clawed hands. Scott's teeth are sharp; no one quite knows why.
Grian's eyes are entirely black like a barn owl's and his hands end in sharp talons rather than nails. He doesn't have wings, not anymore at least. He wears a high collared red tunic and brown trousers, but both are rarely seen past the heavy, ankle length, black cloak he hides himself under, which is held closed by a silver brooch in the shape of an eye. The cloak has a hood but he never wears it. He always seems to be sliming, whether that smile is devious or genuine is up for debate. The brooch looks something like this, minus the blue center and the circlular details
Scar wears a similar black cloak, held closed by the same brooch, though he wears his with the hood up, and it has red flower detailing on the hem (so, similiar to his secret life look but its a full cloak). His eyes are still green, though, and he has a single grey streak in his brown hair. His tunic and trousers under the cloak are both black and he wears his shirt just a little bit too open at the top. He also always wears a smile, but pretty much everyone can agree it is deceptively kind.
Mumbo and Etho wear matching outfits, claiming it is professional since they share a job, but it is something they choose to do not something that is required of them (they are just silly, really). I imagine they are simple outfits consisting of white tunics with black trousers and thick, leather aprons on top (mumbo's is red and etho's is green). They both wear goggles and thick gloves, as well as chunky boots, all for safety since they work with explosives. Etho wears a black bandana on his lower his face. His goggles replace his headband in this look, being what keeps his hair out of his face. His scared eye is missing entirely; he does not have a false eye, it is just an empty socket. Mumbo wears his goggles around his neck when they are not on his face.
Bdubs dresses similarly, minus the apron and goggles, since he works out in the garder. His shirt is white, and he has brown trousers. Over that he wears a thick cloak that is almost always covered in some manner of flora and/or mud. He completes the look with a wide brimmed hat to protect him from the sun.
Cleo is also dresses similarly to Etho and Mumbo but her apron is a plain brown that is stained with soot. Her tunic sleeves are always rolled up to show off her strong arms and she doesn't wear her safety gloves nearly as much as she should, and she forgoes eye protection entirely. One of her eyes is missing (surprisingly not related to the lack of protective wear), replaced with a glass eye of a slightly different shade of green than her organic eye. Her hair is pulled into a much messier bun than Gem's, with frizzy stray hairs going every direction.
Ren and Martyn look like how they are typically drawn in third life fanart. Ren's eyes are red, as well as blood shot, and he almost always appears angry.
Pearl wears a white tunic with flared sleeves tucked into a pair of high waisted black trousers. Over this she has a deep, red cloak that stops at her waist. She has a crescent moon shaped birth mark on the left side of her face. She carries a sword around her waist. Her hair is always down and messy under her hood.
Bigb just looks like a baker, I am not sure how to describe it. But he always seems to have flour stains on his clothes no matter how hard he tries to wipe it off. Big strong arms for him as well.
Skizz wears the same armour as Scott and impulse, and his underclothes are black. The sleeves of his tunic are ripped off and he does not wear his gauntlets. He refuses to elaborate on why. He is a dove avian.
Tango wears a short sleeved red tunic and black trousers with big chunky boots. His hands are clawed, and his ears are pointed; both are tipped in a red to black gradient. His eyes are entirely red. He has a long tail that ends in a tuff of fire that doesn't seem to have any real heat.
Jimmy wears a blue tunic with a brown vest over it. Brown trousers and chunky boots. His sleeves are always rolled up and he is always covered in some manner of dirt, both because of the work he does on the farm, and from being very clumsy. He has bull horns, one of which is chipped. He also has a tail.
I still don't have set roles for joel and lizzie just yet so they do not have designs in mind either, unfortunately.
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What Was Missing Review
Finn is revealed to regularly have alone time with the wad of Princess Bubblegum’s hair she gave him in “To Cut a Woman’s Hair”. It’s essentially a PG version of a guy still holding on to their ex’s underwear for personal use. The allegory is pushed forward with Finn checking to make sure he is alone. Don’t get me wrong, this isn’t exactly shocking behavior for a thirteen year old boy, but it’s the first big sign that Finn’s crush is getting unhealthy after “Too Young”. It’s time to move on! Unlike “Wizard Battle”, I like the incorporation of Finn’s feelings, despite the arc feeling like there’s nowhere to go after “Too Young”. It’s not the main conflict in the episode, and serves to build to a climax in the season finale.
The Door Lord steals Finn’s gum, Jake’s blanket, and BMO’s controller. It’s hilarious that he only speaks in loud mumbles. He’s supposed to be related to Key-per from “The Enchiridion!”. The Door Lord steals a toy from a candy person and Finn reassures him “I’ll get your kid back, toy!”. The episode wasn’t originally written this way. Adam Muto misspoke when he was pitching the episode and they thought it was funny to keep it like that. Door Lord steals something from Bubblegum and attempts to steal Marceline’s bass axe. With Maja being in possession of Hambo, it makes sense for her bass axe to be her most important item. Finn, Jake, Princess Bubblegum, Marceline, and BMO have to team up to solve the riddle of the door. It’s great getting to see this group of characters together for the first time. It’s the entire main cast minus Ice King, and they get so few opportunities to all be together before Stakes. Their group dynamic is so fun too. The episode is set in Red Rock Pass, which is a really pretty setting to choose for a (mostly) bottle episode.
Marceline chastises Bubblegum for not executing the door lords, as they kept breaking out of jail. I’m not sure if PB is really above just killing them, considering all the fucked up stuff she’s done in the past. But, killing might be a bridge too far for her. I know she committed robot genocide, but I argue she didn’t see them as sentient beings. Jake decides to pretend to be the jerk in the band. Since Jake doesn’t have a grand emotional arc, this is a funny role to put him in. Marceline starts singing “Just Your Problem”:
-“I’m gonna drink the red from your pretty pink face”. This pretty much gives the game away about PB and Marcy not being platonic. She’s singing about kissing and biting PB.
-PB calls it “distasteful”, causing Marceline to accuse her of just not liking her. This ties into PB not liking Marceline’s behavior when she got more and more consumed with her princess duties. Marceline became well aware of this by their first mission to the Glass Kingdom (“Oh c’mon, you love it.”).
-“Sorry I don’t treat you like a goddess. Is that what you want me to do?” She’s calling out PB’s god complex. Marceline assumes Bonnie thinks she’s better than her, like how she sings “you’re self-obsessed and all the rest” in Distant Lands.
-“Sorry I don’t treat you like you’re perfect, like all your little loyal subjects do. Sorry I’m not made of sugar. Am I not sweet enough for you?”. Marceline thinks Bubblegum demands absolute loyalty from everyone as she does with her citizens. She thinks PB would prefer Marceline to be a dum dum juiced moron that never questions her. We don’t know if Marceline is aware of the dum dum juice, but I like to think that she’s partially referring to that. It also relates to Marcy viewing PB as a dictator as she sings in “Woke Up”. She thinks PB wants her to turn down her edginess and be sweeter, like when she wasn’t taking the situation in the Glass Kingdom seriously, something I’m sure wasn’t an isolated incident.
-I’ll lump together “Is that why you always avoid me?” with the later line “I forgot what landed me on your blacklist.” Some people question why Marceline wonders this considering her singing “Woke Up” is the obvious answer. I think she’s partially referring to PB’s actions before their breakup. Bubblegum grew more distant as her responsibilities grew, something that confused and hurt Marceline. PB talks about this in “Varmints”. She’s also referring to PB being cold to Marceline for centuries after their breakup. Even when they were around each other in “Power Animal” and “Video Makers”, we don’t see them talking. Bubblegum was very dismissive of Marcy in “Go With Me”. This is partially Marceline’s fault, as she can be really rude and mean to Bonnie, as seen in this episode.
-“I shouldn’t have to justify what I do.” Marceline doubles down on acting the way she thinks people perceive her. If people think she’s a monster, it's less painful for her to embrace it. This is something she picked up on from thinking she scared her mother away.
-“I shouldn’t have to be the one who makes up with you so why do I want to…” Marceline thinks that since PB is the one who pushed her away, PB is the one who should take the initiative of making things right. There is some truth to this, but as we see in “Obsidian”, they are both more at fault than Marcy is willing to admit. The faces on the door glow brighter and Marceline gets closer to the truth. The truth is she wants to at least be friends with Princess Bubblegum again. That’s the real reason she joined the group here. Reconnecting to PB is something we’ll see her try to do in episodes like “Sky Witch”, “Princess Day”, and “Varmints”.
The song itself slaps. “Just Your Problem” is super popular, so much so that tons of non-fans know the song. A big reason being that it’s probably the most relatable Adventure Time song ever. A lot of people have friends and lovers that drifted away from them or became downright cold to them due to their differences. Rebecca Sugar even based the song off of her experience with a roommate. Princess Bubblegum’s face during this is also pretty telling. She was definitely having flashbacks to the last time Marceline humiliated her with a song. PB’s face turns to shock when Marceline is on the verge of revealing she wants to make up with her. I don’t blame Bonnie for not realizing this. Marceline’s general nastiness towards her, and of course what she said about her while singing “Woke Up”, would give PB the opposite impression.
Finn doesn’t fully grasp the tension between PB and Marcy, but is able to diffuse the awkwardness and get everyone (besides Jake) to have fun together. I also like how sweet Marceline is to BMO, gently calling him “baby”. I like PB’s quirky attempt at a science based song, which is more fitting for her than singing her heart out like Marceline and Finn. Her song fails and Marceline uses it to antagonize PB. She fixates on Bonnie’s failures as she feels insecure in her presence. The words “monster trash” are definitely echoing in her mind here. Marceline is still really nasty to PB. A lot of it feels like unwarranted bullying without the context of future episodes, but even with the context, it still feels that way to an extent. Spitting on PB is pretty inexcusable and Bubblegum is totally right to walk away after it. Their conflict boils down to Princess Bubblegum’s ego and Marceline’s insecurity clashing. I also like the detail of Shelby slithering back into Jake’s smashed viola.
As a final effort, Finn sings “My Best Friends in the World” after realizing the key to the door is the truth:
-“Am I a joke…?” Finn worries that Marceline doesn’t respect Finn, and perhaps only hangs around him because she enjoys messing with him. This is an understandable fear with episodes like “Henchman”. It’s still fundamentally untrue, squashed by the end of “Henchman” and in “Heat Signature”. There is no denying, however, that she loves trolling Finn. She likes messing with everyone, Finn’s young mind just makes him an easier target.
-“...your knight…?” This could be taken to mean Finn wonders if PB only keeps him around, and entertains his advancements, just to use his service to the kingdom. It’s true that Bubblegum employs Finn a lot, and isn’t above manipulating him for her benefit (“The Other Tarts”, “Too Old”, “James”), but she still genuinely enjoys his company whether they are working or just hanging out. He might also just be referring to this positively, as her knight in shining armor.
-“Do you look down on me because I’m younger?” All of Finn’s closest companions are older than him, and it makes sense that this weighs on him. Even Jake, who is often close to Finn’s level and acts as a best friend, also often acts as his parental guardian. This line applies most of all to Bubblegum, given how recent “Too Young” is. The events of that episode are still raw for Finn, and PB’s behavior to him after her age was restored came across as condescending and dismissive.
-“I just wanted us together and to play as a band. Last night was the most fun I’ve ever had.” Finn loves getting to finally hang out with everyone he loves together and feeling like part of a family.
-“Even liked it when the two of you would get mad at each other.” Finn prefers honesty between friends, and appreciates seeing their more vulnerable side as they are usually more closed off from their true emotions in front of him.
-“You are my best friends in the world. And that’s right, I’m talking about the two of you girls. And you Jake.” With his parents dead, the three of them are by far his closest companions. He’s even grown very close to Marceline in recent times. It’s kinda mean to exclude BMO, who’s right there, but BMO becomes more of a part of Finn’s family over time than he is here.
-“I’ll forget that I lost a piece of your hair. I’ll remember the pasta that we shared over there”. Very sweet line about how the wad of hair doesn’t really matter, the time he spends with PB and getting to be her friend is what’s meaningful to him. I like how the pasta has a double meaning. He obviously just shared pasta with her, but he also had a pasta dinner with Bubblegum when she gave him the hair.
Finn’s song is my favorite moment of the series so far, and one of the best scenes ever in the series. I thought “Just Your Problem” was Adventure Time’s best song up to now but it’s then immediately topped. I love everyone participating in the song, especially Marceline singing along with Finn for parts of it. Finn’s song causing even PB and Marcy to harmonize together is great symbolism for Finn helping to bring them back together. Even Jake finally breaks character, he’s too caught up in the moment! Rebecca Sugar drew on her feelings of being a young newcomer when she joined the Adventure Time staff to write this song. Worrying about how your friends see you and if they respect you is another very ubiquitous concern.
The group realizes that the Door Lord showed them that the real treasure is friendship. It’s very cheesy but the contents of the episode does enough to justify it. It’s cool how well the episode ties two themes into this episode: friendship and honesty. The quick cut from the Door Lord happily seeing they got the message to him being bruised and tied up is hilarious. They get their items back, including the famous rock shirt. It’s not at all PB’s style, going to show how much its pure sentimentality means to Bubblegum. The reveal that PB kept the shirt comes as a shock to Marceline. She realizes that Bonnie doesn’t see her as just her problem. Marceline blushing and PB revealing she wears the shirt all the time as pajamas are heavy hints to their romantic pairing. Their interactions in this episode are very queer-coded, even though they aren’t hitting us over the head with it like they do in season 7 onwards. The episode itself gives enough to figure out the broad strokes of Marceline and Bubblegum having a past and a falling out without giving the details, and it’ll be a long time until they are willing to explore it more at all. It’s revealed that Marceline only joined to hang out with them. Beyond reinforcing the theme of friendship, Marceline and PB now know that the other is interested in reforming a connection again, even if Marceline will have to be the one that ends up instigating it.
“What Was Missing” is a fan favorite for good reason. The two musical numbers are the biggest draw and they are incredible. Rebecca Sugar using her own personal experiences to write them makes them feel so raw and personal. It’s some of the most direct the series ever is about Marceline and especially Finn’s thoughts and feelings, with them explicitly singing them. It’s refreshing to get some clear cut insight as the show is usually much more guarded. I wouldn’t want the series to always be this direct, but it's nice to have moments like these every once in a while to help provide insight into their other appearances. The episode is essentially a precursor for Steven Universe. You could slot in Steven for Finn, Pearl for Bubblegum, and Amethyst for Marceline quite easily. I also really like PB in this one! Despite “What Was Missing” having not one, but two characters that are in love with Princess Bubblegum, she gets to shine. It’s definitely more Marceline-heavy, but I like PB standing up for herself, getting to see her side of the conflict, and the return of her quirks with her scientific song. PB and Marceline also have pretty great outfits here, and it’s definitely their most iconic looks besides their default outfits.
Rebecca Sugar has since stated that she wrote PB and Marcy as exes in this episode. She felt their interaction in “Go With Me” read that way. The episode does a great job extrapolating from that brief interaction. According to Rebecca Sugar, she pitched this idea to Adam Muto, who she boarded the episode with, and he approved. They ran this by Pen who also liked it. Cartoon Network forbade the crew from being explicit with it. They still did a good job making it as clear as they could with the restrictions and the fandom picked up on it. Rebecca Sugar wanted to include LGBTQ representation and felt that exploring it through the lens of two exes with a past was the best path to getting it in. Despite it only being subtextual, it was a big deal for 2011.
This episode stirred up quite the firestorm. It’s possibly not a coincidence that it would take almost two years for PB and Marcy to interact again. The Fredator associated Youtube channel Mathematical! posted recaps after the airing of Adventure Time episodes. After the airing of “What Was Missing”, their recap speculated on the possible romantic pairing between Princess Bubblegum and Marceline, interlaced with overtly romantic drawings of Marceline and Bubblegum from character designer and storyboard revisionist Natasha Allegri. As a result, Fredator fired Mathematical! producer Dan Rickmers, deleted the video, and cancelled the Youtube series. Times were different then, but that’s no excuse for such an overreaction. Fred Seibert offered the following explanation:
“Well, I completely screwed up. There’s been chatter on the internet recently about our latest Adventure Time “Mathematical!” video recap that we created, posted, and removed here at Federator. I figure it’s time to clear up the matter. In trying to get the show’s audience involved we got wrapped up by both fan conjecture and spicy fanart and went a little too far. Neither Cartoon Network nor the Adventure Time crew had anything to do with putting up or taking down our latest re-cap. The episode ”What was Missing” remains a terrific short and will be shown again and again just like any other Adventure Time episode. I let us goof in a staggering way and I’m deeply sorry it’s become such a distraction for so many people.” It’s a really weak reasoning as Mathematical! had always been a fan oriented show and that’s what the entire fandom was talking about. Still, I’d expect this from an executive. What was unexpected were Adam Muto’s comments:
“If it was just a fan video there would be no problem at all. The problem was that it was made by a production company actively involved with the show. The video took something that was a possible subtext and declared it, in effect, text and made it seem like the production was actively seeking out input on plot development. That's all there is to it.” Considering Sugar said that Adam Muto agreed with that interpretation, it would have been for the best if he just stayed out of the situation. That’s what Pen Ward did ("It’s hard to comment on that, because there were so many extreme positions taken on it all over the Internet, and it happened so quickly. I don’t really want to comment on it because of that, because there were so many extreme sides taken. It was a big hullaballoo.")
Now that we know Bubbline was in fact the crew’s intention, and it’s since been explicitly canonized, the situation is just even dumber. Dan Rickmer is definitely owed an apology. But what’s really important is the series no longer having to keep their relationship a big secret.
Grade: A+
#adventuretime#adventure time#what was missing#finn and jake#jake the dog#finn the human#princess bubblegum#marceline#bubbline#rebecca sugar
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Safe Haven (M) | PJM (Teaser)
Safe Haven
⟶ Pairing: Park Jimin x Female Reader
⟶ Genre: royalty, smut, 18+
⟶ Tropes: forbidden love au, medieval royal au, royal king’s guard werewolf!jimin, etc
⟶ Teaser WC: 1k+
⟶ Warnings: mild birth scene mention (hardly any details!), mentions of d*ath, brief fighting/attacking descriptions, blood, hair pulling (when attacked), weapons mentioned, poison/venom mention, random side character d*aths, soft pining, (smut warnings will be added in the official post!)
⟶ Summary: When a wolf protects the royal family for many years, he’s faced with one special princess who he’ll do anything for.
⟶ Author's Note: This is a teaser for my upcoming fic which is apart of the “To Love a Monster” collab! Teaser is currently un-beta'd! If you would like to be added to the taglist, please leave your url in the comments! (assumingly you allow tagging of your blog!) & Also feel free to tell me what you think in my asks (link right below!)
Masterlist ◈ Mail Box ◈ AO3 ◈ Ko-Fi
White flurries fall slowly from the gray clouds above, decorating the large courtyard you spy down on in a sheet of fresh snow. Most of the garden that blooms the most gorgeous flowers is now a mess of dead plants and weeds.
The bare trees stand firm. But for those who stand strong in the winter months like hollies with red berries and camellias, continue to stand out next to the beauty of sheared evergreens and deciduous shrubs with colorful stems.
Your eyes are not trained on admiring the bright snow that cascades from the sky so beautifully. Normally you do. As you sit by your glass window with a blanket around your shoulders, you look down from your chambers on the third level of the castle to fancy something different.
Men – some of the royal guards – play around with one another in the cold weather. Some have shifted, others remain in their noble suits. The one you fixate your stare on is your personal guard, Jimin.
He stands leaning against the stone staircase besides a few of his equals. Chatting away about who knows what, watching the others roughhouse with another. Jimin is quite handsome, he always has been. For as long as you remember he’s looked the same, minus the fluctuation of hair styles and added tattoos that linger his body. A few battle scars to add.
As a guard he wears your family's sigil proudly – a lotus flower – on each of his articles of clothing. Customized into each of the guards’ crested plates of metal armor and sewn into each leather hide.
Jimin possesses the unfair mix of unlimited masculine and feminine traits, having a soft-looking composure and full lips plus a sharp jawline and toned muscles. His voice is nearly angelic when speaking in hushed tones but also stern as ever when he leads with his strong confidence. He may not be as large as his fellow wolves, but he’s proven himself countless times to your family to have the privilege to be your personal guard. There’s nobody quite like him; no one you’ve met in your life that is.
You commend him in silence, appreciating what you can watch from afar. Even from a distance behind a glass window, he somehow manages to make your heart race. An infatuation some may call it. A yearning. He and your family have been consistent in your life, he’s comfort – as are they. But you knew from a young age, from when you began favoring Jimin’s company over others, that you need to call it ‘nothing’. Because whatever feelings that spin deep inside you are never to be spoken aloud. It’s foolish for your Kingdom, family, and you to long for a wolf who doesn’t see you as anything but a duty.
What’s more disappointing is that you don’t need to admit these infuriating feelings to Jimin, he already knows. He would never allow it to get far by cutting you short and being curt with clipped words and disapproving looks.
He is a wolf and you are a royal. Two beings who have no business intertwining besides with loyalty to the family and the job of a guard. Your acquaintanceship between another is only going to be professional. Perhaps it’s to keep the bloodline pure, untainted. How every sibling of the family is betrothed to a neighboring kingdom, growing the alliance across countries. And not one of them has a blend of wolf’s blood in them. Even though werewolves are evident in the world around you.
“Aren’t you supposed to get ready for the party tonight?” A maid who's making your bed quips up as you're daydreaming down into the evergreen.
“I’ve been stuck on deciding which dress I should wear.”
“No, you’ve been stuck staring out into the courtyard,” she corrects.
You slump in your seat as you stubbornly hold your position by the window. When you look back down, you admire the off-brown and black tones of that particular wolf you fancy. She isn’t wrong, you know. His kind eyes and kind smiles make you feel warmth like no other, and you enjoy seeing them when you gain the chance.
“I can multitask,” you feebly argue. You drag the blanket tighter around your shoulders, keeping in the warmth of your body as much as possible. “Besides, the party isn’t until a few more hours.”
“Princess, you already have guests arriving. Half the guard is at the entrance welcoming the parties who show up early. Let’s not begin to mention how several potential suitors are arriving today. You’ve failed to marry even when betrothed. Such a shame what happened with the Jeon family.”
“I prefer not to be a royal. It doesn’t feel right the way we work,” you sigh as the joyful wolves down below have fun while you’re stuck in your tower with envy. “Can we braid my hair like that one time at my Aunt’s wedding? It cascaded down beautifully.” You speak while staring out of the window, purposely ignoring the heavier topic your maid mentions. “I’ll go with the silver dress. That one comes with the gorgeous fur shawl.”
You notice the way that Jimin has suddenly turned to look up toward your window, half expecting to see you through the glass. Even in the midst of his comrades, he finds a way to give you an ounce of attention. He shakes his head momentarily, already scolding you without knowing what you’re supposed to be doing. Jimin knows looking for him isn’t on your agenda, you purposely put him there.
“For me to do that,” – you hear the voice of your maid – “I need you to get out of your chair and into your washroom.”
A small frown carves into your face when Jimin circles his finger in the air and directs you to turn around, go back to your business. He knows he’s escorting you tonight at the party, you will see him later. To make his point come across sternly, he disassociates his eye contact – bringing his attention back to his other peers and away from you.
“Princess,” your maid bids you once again.
Reluctant to leave your post at the window, you stand up regardless. You have a long night ahead of you while the castle starts to fill up with guests for your younger brother’s birthday party.
⟶ Estimated Posting Date : June 2023
© 2023 All rights reserved under @kth1 - do not copy, repost, modify, edit, or translate any of my work without my direct consent. This TUMBLR and AO3 are the ONLY places my fics are posted.
#safe haven#fic teaser#safe haven teaser#fic: safe haven#bts smut#jimin smut#jimin fluff#jimin pining#bangtansorciere#btscreaturescoven#jimin x reader#bts x reader#kth1fics
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~Through the Nomad’s Eyes~
“It's not terribly often.
A few times a month, I'd say -- sometimes less.
Depends how much trouble I get in.
Day is dark with smoke, my vision is full of embers.
My eyes burn, the fires are hot.
Birds chirpin', people talkin' is replaced with screams.
Tall, proud buildings are suddenly collapsing.
I hear children cryin'...
I see dirt roads and pavement painted red.
Stalls and homes fall to stone and ash.
The smell is...indescribable.
Those screams...
It's unbelievable, what...godless sounds come out of a person, when they're bein' burned and mangled...
Or shot...
Or trampled...
Or crushed by debris...
The ground shakes, glass shatters.
It's pure chaos, but it's only a second.
Then, I blink my eyes...
And it's all over.
And my heart stops racin', and the ice in my veins melts.
'N I'm okay.
This doesn't usually happen when I'm somewhere peaceful.
Naw, it's usually when I'm gettin' myself into trouble helpin' folks.
Wherever there's a fire, when I hear screamin', when there's panic.
It affected me worse when I was younger, but I've learned how to push through it now.
It helps to remind myself that it's over, but...I know it'll always be with me.
I'll always be haunted by that day.
By the screams, and...by them gettin' quieter...
By the blood.
By the ash, the flames, the rumblin' of the earth.
By the empty vessels I climbed over -- bodies, people.
People someone loved.
Mothers.
Fathers.
Babies...
I'll always see those faces; sometimes when I close my eyes, they're lookin' back at me, hollow.
I knew some'a them...
People who took care'a me.
That day is the reason I look back, why I can't stay out'a harm's way.
Because I know what happens when hearts grow dark, what hurt and twisted people do to other people.
Maybe I can make a difference, maybe I can't, but I gotta try.
I want to prove that love, that patience and time, can change fate, can tame temper.
I know what it means to be helpless, and when I see someone else livin' that, it makes me ill.
I know that hurt people hurt people, that someone failed them, too.
When I see disaster, I gotta run to it.
I'm sorry...
But I gotta.
Because if I do nothin' even though I had the chance, then it's my fault.
It's not rational, but don't ask me to change...'cos I can't...
Don't feel sad for me, now.
In my heart, I really feel...good.
Yes, I hurt a lot, and I feel guilty.
I punish myself when I can't save somebody.
Sometimes I don't love myself like I should, I don't take care'a me.
Sometimes I think, "It shoulda been me."
Sometimes I feel...worthless...but I really know better.
If I didn't, I wouldn't feed and take care'a myself like I do, and play and have fun, right?
I like livin', I like bein' happy.
...
If I run into danger, and someone comes out alive or better off on the other end because of it, I've succeeded.
If I run into danger and all that happens is I got a whoopin', well...reckon I had it comin'.
Who am I to say what's what?
But yeah, generally, I feel good.
Minus the memories, the nightmares sometimes, I often sleep real good at night.
I can smile, and laugh play and sing and see what's beautiful in life.
This life is painful, and scary, but it's also miraculous.
We're all here on a whim; the odds of us existing are so against us, and yet here we stand.
A universe, cold and empty and quiet, full'a nothin'...
It's such a divine gift to be here, to learn and think and share life with others.
To make new life, to lay down past life, to cry and grow and nurture.
All from the same place, from dust to dust, to one day all return to that same place.
Ooh, it makes my hair stand up!
Doesn't it you?
I see fire...
I see blood...
I see death...
But when that passes, I see joy, and nature, and all of us together.
I see life blooming, new beginnin's unfolding.
I see us learning from what we live through.
The past haunts me, but I won't live in it.
I'll just look back at it -- and that's okay.
It's okay to look back.
I'll just let it inspire me.
Don't try to turn my head when ya see me lookin' over my shoulder.
It'll release me when it's done."
#wander over yonder#woy#woy fanart#ptsd#no that isnt Harvax LOL#just his species though#more to come on the species later
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imperfectionist (vinny hong x jo!reader)
jay jo's imperfectionist sister meets the flawful vinny hong.
part 7
part 6 | part 8
part warnings: fem!reader, jo!reader (jay is reader's 1 year older brother, but they're in the same class), second person's pov (you, you're, your), wb main story SPOILERS
—
Why was he shocked? He already saw you in your school uniform when he took you to the hospital.
“Sorry, Principal. I can come back later if you're busy–”
“It's alright, [Y/N]. I'll have you as a witness for your friends' proposal.” He motioned you to stand beside him. Albeit confused, you obliged while still carrying the papers and brown envelopes.
Friends, huh.
You casually eyed them one by one. Even noticing Minu's stupid-looking, over-gelled hair. But averting your gaze once you felt a certain red-hair's stare. He stared you down and you can feel his fixation on you, yet you were determined to keep your nonchalance affront.
You surely weren't needed here, so why did the Principal make you stay? While their attention were elsewhere—well, except for Vinny, who still has his two-toned eyes following you, you were finally about to escape the Principal but when you tried to sneakily walk past them, Shelly took your arm and quietly tucked you beside her while listening to her Granddad. Yes, the Principal. Shelly's Granddad. One person. The principal is Shelly's granddad.
After what seems to be a proposal to skip school to compete in the tournament, the Principal guided you out of the office, letting you go before classes started.
You thought it was over, not until Mr. Nam, who accompanied you outside, called your name from the door, so you expectantly waited for what he had to say,
“The red boy isn't from here, would you mind escorting him off the campus? You’re Vice of the student body after all.”
Agh. What is he, a preschooler?
You glanced at Vinny, who just came out of the door, for a split second. “No. Not at all.”
Vinny stopped in his tracks when you faced him, now he was blankly staring at you.
“Follow me.” you composed yourself and led him to the exit. You can hear students’ chatters and whispers but you chose to voluntarily not pay them any mind. You were watching his reflection on the window panes of the classrooms from your peripheral vision, so you didn’t have to look behind to see if he was following you.
You remained civil, and as much as Vinny hates to admit, he’s annoyed by the way you’re pretending you don’t know him after everything you said and did in your past encounters. Sure he hated talking, like he always did, it’s not like he wants you to converse with him.
But somehow in this third encounter, why did he perhaps expect… more?
You can’t talk to him, yet. You shouldn’t. At least not in front of your schoolmates and especially not in front of Jay and the others. Acting like you know him will only spark more rumors and suspicions. Once again you can feel his stares right behind you as you wordlessly guided him towards the gate.
Your mouth was itching to open and talk. But not now. At least not while the guards were looking at you, they know your mother. You’ll be dead.
When you reached the gate you stopped just before the gate and asked if he needed more directions to go where he’s headed to, but he insisted he knew where he’s going.
You were about to leave but his hand reached forward. Handing you something. You wondered what it was for a moment until you saw the object. The tomato charm you gave him.
You eyed the charm on his palm and looked back to his face. “What do you want me to do with that?”
“You might want it back.”
“Who do you take me for? Give and take?” You frowned. “Bring my glasses next time.” and then you turned your back on him.
Once again, Vinny’s brows slightly furrowed in annoyance. But then he finally confirms that you do remember him. You just act like you don’t.
What the hell just happened? What do you mean? Since he met you, all you ever did was to make his head hurt. He only watched you from afar for less than a second, before he turned his back shortly.
Not worth it, he thinks.
___
Like you already said before, you and Jay don't always go home together after class, it's always taken you to go separate ways after school as a norm unless you both agree you'd go home together beforehand.
After the subject bedel announced your professor’s absence, his whole class period became your class vacant.
You loomed over Jay's desk. “Got any snacks?”
He slid a wasabi lollipop while not even panning to you, eyes glued to his textbook, choosing to spend his vacant time studying.
“Why aren’t you studying?”
“I’ve already read everything last night. I'm getting dizzy seeing words on a textbook.” You reached for the lollipop and opened the wrapper before putting it in your mouth and slumpily sitting beside him.
Some of your classmates were a little taken aback because you barely sit beside Jay in classrooms. That was because you were having enough of seeing Jay’s face. From your house, to the student council hq’s, to the classroom, you’d see him. You were getting tired of seeing him everywhere. But it’s different now that you don’t see him at home because you don’t live there anymore, and you don’t see him at the council hq’s too now because he isn’t the President anymore.
“Got yelled at by mom and dad last night?” You asked him.
“...Yeah.”
“Sucks.”
“Has your flu gone down?” Right. You didn't tell anyone the truth. The only ones who knew were Suki and well… Vinny.
"Yeah. I did a lot to feel better sooner. Anyway, thanks for lending me your glasses.” you moved his eyeglasses that you borrowed up and down over your nose bridge.
The eyeglasses you were currently wearing were Jay's. They were his backup ones. Only the morning after the stabbing incident you realized you've lost your glasses. And then you remembered the nurses gave Vinny your belongings before your back was stitched up. But you promised to give Jay's glasses back after you retrieve yours from Vinny.
“How's your new member holding up? Any problems?” You shift your body to face him while biting your lollipop's stick.
Jay eyed you. “What? Oh, you mean Vinny? He's… fine. I guess.”
Must be still warming up. He’ll get used to it. You glanced out the window. The sky was already turning orange. Dom’s loud mouth echoes all the way from the back of the classroom blathering something about Hummingbird’s next cycling practice made you remember something.
“Say, can I come watch your next practice? There's also Yuna and Mia, right? Would another bystander distract you?”
“Yeah. You can come.” Jay replied. You were thankful at how he didn’t ask why you wanted to come. The real reason was to retrieve your glasses from Vinny.
Shelly called your name while closing Jay’s table. You were getting used to her ditzyness. “My sister-in-law, are you close with Vinny? He looks cool! Is his hair color natural?”
Why does everyone here think we’re close?
“Don't know. Don't care.” you faced Jay's desk to steal all his wasabi lollipops while he's not looking. You stood up with a jacket filled with lollipops and let Shelly take the seat beside Jay.
___
You passed your fake medical certificate to your professor for your absence. You were waiting for your excuse letter to be signed before going home, when the new phone you bought beeped.
Unknown Contact: hiya, is this [Y/N]? ;)
[Y/N]: who's this?
Unknown Contact: vinny ;)
You gaped your mouth. Vinny? That Vinny?
[Y/N]: wrong number
After sending a lot of keyboard smashes, his messages suddenly halted. You thought he was done until you received another.
Unknown Contact: that was not me fuck
Unknown Contact: i swear that wasn’t me
You chose not to point it out in your reply.
[Y/N]: my glasses
After reminding him, the professor handed you back the excuse letter. You thanked him and exited the room. You wonder where he got your number, especially with the fact that after losing your phone when you were stabbed, you changed phones and SIM cards.
You smirked triumphantly for a split-second and put your phone inside your pocket.
***
sorry for the slow ud's !!!! academic responsibilities always get in the way D:
anw, a gift for you
© to whoever edited this gem
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୨୧ , guts x GN!reader.
( first meeting headcanons )
written by ISHA.
tags fluff, shyness, sfw
. . .
you'd met guts in a tavern by the outskirts of midland, drinking a filthy whiskey you had not paid for. there weren't a lot of people so you basically had the place to yourself, minus the bartender shooting you wary looks. it was quiet and you enjoyed it.
and then, an apostle attacks. the large beasts destroys the tavern to a large pile of wood and stone and you're sure there's no way they'd be able to mend it back together. you're still downing your bitter drink when the apostle takes notice of you behind the now wrecked bar. you had taken shelter with the bartender, but by the looks of it he's long gone, impaled by a spear to your right.
you are definitely alone now.
but then a tall man jumps atop of the apostle with a freakishly large sword and slides off its head with one clean swoop. the grotesque head falls and rolls along the floor by your feet, followed by a trail of blood as it's eerie eyes stare up at you.
shocked, you drop your glass with a gasp. too busy worrying about the blood staining your silks, you miss the loud stomps of heavy boots approaching you ahead.
"are you alright?"
you snap your head up at the deep voice before you, gazing up at a bruised yet oddly handsome face. his dark hair is unruly and frames his solemn features rather nicely. the man seems to have lost an eye, if the scar travelling down his eyelid was of any indication. but truthfully, it was kind of sexy. your saviour wears a stoic expression, awaiting your answer impatiently.
"oh of course i am, now that you're here." you wink, not expecting the man to catch on.
but he does, his face flushed red. he rubs the back of his neck and attempts to avoid your longing gaze, though it's futile in the end; you have gorgeous eyes.
"guts," he coughs out suddenly, and when you raise a confused brow at him, he repeats himself regardless of how his heart thumps loudly against his ribs, "the name is guts."
his name is odd, that's for sure. but the way he eyes you up and down like you're destined to be devoured by him, isn't so bad.
#guts#guts x reader#guts berserk#berserk x reader#x reader#guts x you#guts x gn reader#gn reader#berserk
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yay congrats on 1k!!! can i request “who’s going to stop us, huh?” with eddie <3
maybe with the goody two shoes!reader if the trope helps, if not tHATS OKAY <33
author's note: for my 1k celebration. this wasn't where i originally intended for this to go, but this is just a look inside my thoughts at 7 in the morning as i wrote this, forgive me.
cw: 18+ (minors dni), fem!reader, innocent!reader (sort of), fingering, eddie being a wonderful and adorable boyfriend
word count: 1.5k
Eddie twirled the frilly material of your pristine, pink bow around his finger, a little strand of your hair getting caught. He laughs softly, smoothing out the perfectly curled ponytail, admiring the way your cheeks blush a deep shade of red, the heat of his breath ghosting over the back of your neck.
No matter how hard you tried, you always ended up in these situations.
Eddie was a terribly bad influence—always getting you in trouble with your parents, getting you to skip glass, god forbid your grades drop, which luckily they hadn’t, but they were on that very thin teetering line and you were fed up. Fed up.
But, then you looked at him and you couldn’t help it.
He was the reminder you needed, to not take everything so seriously, allow yourself to breathe, think, and do something for yourself for once. He had, essentially, ruined all other men for you. No one compared, not even Jason.
“Did you pass that big test you were so worried about?” Eddie speaks softly, his chest pressed against your back, head tilted over your shoulder. He hovered, so desperate to always have a hand on you. You loved it.
“Mhmm.” You acknowledge, fingers dancing across his hand that was resting against your hip, dipping underneath the cute, white button up you had worn that day. “How did your English paper turn out?”
He whips the schoolwork from his pocket, unfolding it in front of you. “Solid C minus, can’t complain.” He tells you, a smile evident in his voice. He tosses the flimsy paper to the side, having only held onto it to show you, in hopes you might be willing to reward him for such diligent work. “You’re wearing the skirt again.” He comments absently, hands exploring lower, twisting the material in his fingers.
Luckily, you two had enough privacy here, in the wooded area where he did most of his after school deals. Otherwise, people might start getting the wrong idea—not that it wasn't obvious what you two were getting up to. Eddie was definitely aiming to get somewhere, but you weren’t too confident that you could meet him halfway.
“I am.” You agree, crossing one leg over the other, the laces of your white converse knocking together as you leaned back into him. “What’s the big deal?”
Eddie chuckles darkly, deft hand sliding between your thighs, wedged between where they had been crossed. Eddie was determined, not one to let up too easily. You really couldn’t find it in yourself to argue, either. But, you did have things to worry about. The idea of someone walking up on you two, in such a compromising position—it was mortifying.
“Eddie,” You whine in protest, watching the skin on his hand flex over his knuckles, his fingers digging gently into your thigh. All you have to do is part them…just a smidge, “we can’t.”
“Who’s gonna stop us, huh?” Eddie challenges, your legs parting easily, falling victim to his delicate touches, hand trailing up the inside of your thigh, ghosting over the thin material of your underwear. “No one comes out here.”
“You say that—“ You say on an exhale, hands planted on either side of Eddie’s legs, struggling to hold yourself upright with the pressure he was pressing against your already soaking wet cunt. He was teasing, like the menace he was, not daring to slip a hand under the fabric.
“I know it.” He whispers into your ear, a single digit dragging up and against your covered clit, drawing a soft gasp from your chest.
“Eddie.” You protest again, words hanging on your tongue but never leaving, the heat in your lower abdomen growing as he finally, finally dipped a finger inside your underwear, running through your folds.
“Hey,” He shushes, “You’ve been so worked up and worried, let me do this.” And you have, he’s seen it. All month you’ve been nothing but a giant ball of stress, taut and ready to explode at any minor inconvenience. You never had time like this anymore, always shoving your face into a book or another pile of homework you had to finish before the day was over.
He just wanted to take care of you.
“Okay,” You sigh quietly, breath hitching as he dipped a finger inside of you, curling slightly as he dragged his thumb over your clit, moving in small, gentle circles, “just be careful.”
“Always am, aren’t I?” He says, brushing your bangs away from your ear, kissing gently at the tip of your ear, his fingers doing all the dirty things you wanted his mouth to do to you.
You nod jerkily, moaning out as he dipped a second finger inside, hands grasping the wood of the picnic table, leaning further into Eddie’s chest. He laughs, shifting to help keep you upright, his movements inside of you never faltering. You gasped, a high pitched whine as he hit that delicate sweet spot inside of you.
“Eddie,” You sound desperate, a broken sob leaving you mouth as he picks up his pace, “feels so good.”
“Yeah?” He’s so fucking smug all the time, “Pussy feels so good around my fingers, bet it would feel even better around my—“
“Eddie.” Your tone is more forceful, a warning. You two hadn’t even had sex yet, it was one of the main rules you had for yourself, at least until you’ve managed to get through the semester with perfect grades, then you could allow yourself that one, very simple indulgence. And you wanted Eddie, so badly that it hurt. He understood, too—he didn’t ever seem upset about it, but he was attracted to you, in every way possible. So, could you really blame him?
And if his hands and mouth were this good, you weren’t sure how you would be able to keep it together when you finally had the chance to take him fully, the feeling of his dick pressed against your back already intimidating enough.
“Sorry, princess.” He apologizes, picking up his pace gradually. He focuses his attention on your swollen, sensitive clit—watching the way your body jerks slightly, on the brink of another blissful orgasm at the hands of Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson. “Just thinking.”
You still couldn’t grasp how or why Eddie had taken any interest in you at all, you didn’t feel special. But, Eddie made it very clear that you were so much more than what you saw yourself as.
You moan out, feeling yourself clinch around his fingers, your arm desperately coming up to wrap around his neck from behind, pulling at his jacket, his hair, anything. You felt like you were finally going to explode now, all that pent up stress and anxiety at its tipping point.
“It’s okay,” He murmurs, your shoes planted against the seat of the table, rutting up against his hand. You were red with embarrassment, feeling meek at how badly you wanted this, “enjoy it, sweetheart. You deserve it.”
And you do. You do fucking deserve it.
You cry out, bound to attract attention—some few black crows scurrying away from their branches at the sound, Eddie’s hand flying up to cover your mouth as you ride out your orgasm against his hand, hips chasing his fingers as he held on tight, waiting until you were finally still to let go.
“That never gets old.” Eddie laughs softly, wiping his wet fingers on the black handkerchief that hung from his pocket, helping you situate yourself more comfortably, your underwear feeling sticky and cold now, Eddie’s hand no longer providing the warmth you needed. “I didn’t take you for a screamer.”
You swat Eddie on the arm, pointing a painted nail in his face, “What did we talk about?” You ask petulantly, waiting for him to answer. A grin breaks out over his face.
“No distractions until the semester is over.” He tells you, sounding entirely too flippant about it. “But hey, you weren’t saying no.”
You sigh, giving up. He was right, you couldn’t resist him, not like this.
“All that Eddie, Eddieee,” He mocks playfully, imitating your soft moans, “seems like you were enjoying yourself, if I’m not mistaken.”
“Oh, don’t even go there,” You warned Eddie, knowing exactly where your mind was going, “have you forgotten what you sound like with your dick in my mouth?”
And it really shouldn’t turn Eddie on, the way you speak so openly and raw about it, it was like hearing you curse, something that was just as much of a rarity as this.
Eddie holds his hand up in defeat, surrendering to your deadly gaze. You smile triumphantly, giving him a chaste peck on his lips. “Now, get me home before my parents decide to give me another lecture about you.”
Eddie nods dutifully, two fingers coming up to his forehead in salute. “As you wish, princess.”
And truly, you couldn’t resist the gloriously peeved off expression your parents had whenever you’re loud, head banging, rock music loving boyfriend dropped you off to your house everyday, feeling their blood boil just a little hotter.
#eddie munson smut#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#my writing#1kfc
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IDOL-Chapitre un
Adrien Agreste/Chat Noir x Male!Idol!reader
When a young American idol and his band tours in France, every one in Adrien's class wants to go. Unfortunately for them, tickets sold out as soon as they were for sale. Fortunately for Adrien, his father was able to get him tickets, but with a cost. Even though theres an underlying reason on why he's going, Adrien decides to take his best friend Nino, and his other two close classmates/friends, Alya and Marinette.
When they all got to the concert and the idol started singing, it mesmerized Adrien, pulling him to the front of the stage. Seeing the idol perform made Adrien feel things he never felt before, and it didn't help when the idol lent down and kissed Adrien's hand. Now that caused quite the ruckus.
"𝐔𝐡, 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐈 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐭?"
[Unedited]
[(h/t) = hair type, i.e. curly, wavy, straight, ect.]
[Everyone in the story is 18 or older unless it is specifically said otherwise.]
*Y/N's POV*
"We're going to France!" Your manager, Sheena, just cheered. It was silent in the conference room as you and your band mates took this in. "Huh?" Was all you could say. "What do you mean: 'huh'?! You guys are going to tour in France! Be more excited!" Sheena yelled at us while shaking her fists.
"Are we that popular to be touring in a different country?" Your bass player, Jiraiya, questioned. "Oh boy, I don't know any french..." Your drummer, Loyal, worried out loud. "Relax, I'm sure this'll be a fun, new experience for all of us." Your guitarist, Kylian, said as he patted Loyal's shoulder in comfort. "Ah, I can't wait for the food!" Your keyboardist, Kairo, was already drooling at the thought of French cuisine.
These are your bandmates. You five, including yourself, make up the band: Ensnare. There was you, Y/N L/N, age 18, 5'9", the leader and vocalist. Then there was Jiraiya Duran, age 19, second in command and the bass player. Jiraiya is of Asian and pacific islander descent, around 5'8", has straight black hair, sharp dark brown eyes, glasses, tan skin, a Medusa lip piercing, sharp features and a slim but fit figure. You honestly think he could become a model if he wanted to. You could call Jiraiya the cool but serious type.
Next is Kylian Thatcher, age 18 and the guitarist of the group. Kylian is of European descent, 5'7", has wavy light brown hair, blue eyes, peach colored skin, dolphin bites lip piercings and a sharp jawline, giving Jiraiya a run for his money. He's definitely the most cocky in the group, constantly butting heads with Jiraiya when you're not around. You could consider him the bad boy out of everyone.
And finally, the twins, Loyal and Kairo Elsher, age 17, mix of European and African descent. Loyal is our drummer while Kairo is our keyboardist. They're identical twins with a height of 5'6", heterochromia eyes (one hazel and one green), light brown skin and a beauty mark under their right eye. They both have curly, colored hair, but their natural black hair is starting to show at the roots. Loyal's hair was dyed blue while Kairo's was dyed orange. The only difference between the two, minus their hair color and their instruments, was their personalities. Loyal was nervous and introverted, Kairo was care-free and extroverted.
Oh, and we can't forget our manager, Sheena Wright, age 40. She is of European descent, 5'6", dyed red hair, blue eyes, freckles, peach colored skin and has multiple ear piercings. Sheena's personality is very outgoing, she's headstrong but determined, she knows when it's time to be serious but also knows when it's time to let loose. In a way, she's kind of like a cool mom to all of us.
"Wait, wait, wait," You started, placing your hand on the table to calm everyone down. "Isn't France notorious now because there's villains constantly running rampant?" "Oh yeah, will we be safe?" Loyal sat up, instantly starting to worry. Sheena waved us off, "Of course you'll be safe! You'll have your bodyguards and Frances hero's."
"'Frances hero's?'" You repeated, not sure if you heard her correctly. "Oh, that's right," Jiraiya started, opening the conference room laptop. He started typing then projected an image of a dark blue haired female in a skin tight, red suit with black polka-dots and a blonde haired male in a skin tight, black cat suit with cat ears on top of his head. "This is Ladybug and Chat Noir, Frances hero's. They're the ones who take care of the villains." Jiraiya explained, pointing to the duo.
You sighed then asked, "When is it?" "It's in six months, you'll be doing the same tour you did earlier this year." Sheena informed. All of your bandmates look to you, their leader, for your decision. "Seems like we need to start learning French." You shrugged. Kairo and Kylian cheered, Loyal got a nervous look and Jiraiya smiled.
*Time Skip, Adrien's POV*
When I entered my class, every one was absolutely buzzing. I went up to Nino, Alya and Marinette as they were huddled together watching something with large smiles. "Whats going on you guys?" I smiled, peeking over Nino's shoulder. Marinette jumped and squeaked at my presence and Nino greeted me, "Hey dude! We're just watching the announcement for Ensnare's France tour!"
"'Ensnare'?" I questioned. "Yeah man," Alya started, smiling. "Ensnare is an American boy band that's totally amazing. Everyone in the group is super talented and not to mention super hot! And they have mentioned some of the best news I have ever heard: they're coming here!" Her and Marinette squealed in excitement. "Here, watch this!" Alya said, pulling up the video they were watching earlier.
On the screen was a... really attractive guy. He seemed to be around our age, but he had a mature air about him. His soft smile, (e/c) eyes, (short/long) lashes, clear (s/c) skin, sharp jawline, and (h/t) (h/c) hair all screamed hot model.
"Depending on when you're seeing this, bonjour or bonsoir République française! This is Ensnare announcing that we will be touring all of France in six months! The tickets will go on sale at 10 in the morning your time, so get them while you can! They're limited! And if you get the VIP tickets we all can't wait to meet you! The VIP tickets include a meet and greet before the concert, a picture with us, and a signed piece of merch! But we are giving out a handful of Deluxe VIP tickets where you get everything a VIP ticket does, but you also get to have dinner with us! The meet and greet will be after the concert though. Remember, premier arrivé premier servi. À bientôt!" The male ended with a smile and a wink.
Ba-bump
'What was that?' I shook my head. "Who was that?" I ask, pointing to the male on the phone. "That's (Y/N) (L/N)! He's the leader and singer of Ensnare! Then there's Jiraiya," Alya excitedly explained, hurriedly moving on to the other members before I could ask more questions about the bands leader. 'Oh well, guess I'll do my own research tonight.' I mentally shrugged to myself as Alya continued to explain every member to me.
"Wow, it seems like you guys really like them. Are you going to their concert?" I questioned, getting pouts from the girls in return. "We're gonna try! That is, if the tickets don't sell out." Marinette answered. "I'm sure you guys will get them!" I encouraged, giving her a smile. Her face immediately turned red and she gained a nervous smile, she started stuttering before Alya stepped in, "Well it's going to be hard since pretty much every one I know is going to try to go to that concert. But we're going to try too!" "I'm sure you'll get them, babe." Nino said, kissing Alya on the cheek.
"Wait, when you say every one you know is going to try to get tickets, does that include our friends?" I ask, referring to the other students around me. "Definitely," Alya sighed. "Well, fingers crossed." I gave Alya and Marinette a comforting smile.
*Time Skip*
"I'm sorry you guys," I tried to comfort my sad friends. "We were so close to going to their concert..." Marinette mumbled. "At least no one else in our class was able to get tickets!" Nino also (poorly) tried to cheer them up. "Still..." Alya sighed in a sad manner. Everyone in our class was bummed out that no one got tickets. And not to mention Chloe who had a temper tantrum when even her dad couldn't get tickets. Even I was a little sad that I couldn't get tickets, I don't know the band very well but I wanted to see that (Y/N) in person... 'Wait, what's up with my thoughts?' I shook my head.
*Time Skip*
I just got home after a photoshoot, heading straight to my room. After I closed my door and made sure Nathalie didn't follow me, I let Plagg out of my shirt. "Gosh! Its about time!" I ignored the kwamis complaint and went to my computer, logging in.
I went to the search engine and typed in: 'Ensnare'. The American boy band popped up and I clicked on the members. "Um... excuse me? I think you're forgetting something." Plagg flew next to me, opening his mouth. I rolled my eyes and tossed him a piece of camembert, successfully quieting him.
I turned my attention back to my monitor and clicked on the bands leader. "Hm... let's see, Y/N L/N, age 18, Ensnare's vocalist..." I was mumbling to myself as I read information about him. After a couple minutes I watched some of their music videos and covers. "His vocal range is amazing..." I mumbled to myself again.
"You seem to really be into this guy, you like him or something?" I jumped as I heard a voice in my ear. I turn to see Plagg with a smug look on his face. "W-What? N-No! I just found out about him today!" I explained, confused at my stuttering and racing heart. Plagg flew circles around my head, "Doesn't mean a thing!" He teased in a sing-song tone. "Whatever..." I waved him off.
I saw a thumbnail of a video and it looked like Y/N in an interview. The only thing was, it was titled: 'ENSNARE'S Y/N'S TYPE'. I clicked on it, curious. You could tell the video didn't start at the beginning of the interview with how it was edited.
"So," The interviewer started, "All of your fans want to know: does Y/N L/N have a secret girlfriend?"
Y/N uncomfortably laughed, "I'm not going to lie, I wasn't expecting this question."
The interviewer laughed, "C'mon! Every one wants to know!"
"Fine, fine. No, I do not."
"Wow! Really?! Why not?!"
"Haven't met the right person yet."
"Can we at least ask who your type is?"
Y/N was quiet for a bit, thinking. But he finally smirked, "Blondes."
Ba-bump
"Blondes? Like me?" I unconsciously said, making Plagg snicker in amusement.
*Time Skip*
I was eating dinner by myself in the dining room, picking at my food. "Adrien," Nathalie called out to me, "Are you alright? You seem to be thinking about something." I blushed and waved her off, "O-Oh, yeah, I'm fine." It looked like she wanted to say more, but left it at that.
In fact, I was thinking about something. More accurately, someone. I couldn't get his face or voice out of my mind! 'Y/N L/N... what are you doing to me?'
"Adrien," I look up to see the owner of the deep voice. "Father!" I stand up from my seat, pleasantly surprised and confused. "I don't have much time, but have you heard of the American band: Ensnare?" He got straight to the point. "U-Um, yeah." I answered.
"I have 4 Deluxe VIP tickets to their concert in six months, I want you to go."
"Really?!"
"There's a catch. I want you to befriend them and convince them to collaborate with me for a new fashion line. I've asked them multiple times myself, but they keep turning me down. So, go to the concert, befriend them, and convince them. If you fail, I'll be disappointed."
"...Yes, father."
"...You can give the 3 extra tickets to your friends if you would like."
"Thank you, father!"
He nodded at me and walked out. I was excited but nervous at the same time. Me and a few of my friends get to go to Ensnare's concert! But... if I can't convince them to collab with my father he'll be upset. 'One step at a time, Adrien!'
*Time Skip*
"AHHH!" Alya and Marinette screamed in excitement. "I can't believe you're taking us to see Ensnare!" Alya shouted, large smile on her face. "This is amazing! Thank you so much, Adrien!" Marinette also shouted. "Yeah man, we all really appreciate it!" Nino added, patting my shoulder. All I could do was laugh at their reactions, "It's no problem, you guys are my best friends, of course I'll take you!"
...
"Did you guys hear that?" I asked, after hearing a faint scream. Alya and Marinette snickered to themselves, "I think Chloe is a little upset you didn't ask her to go to the concert." I frowned and shrugged, "If I had an extra ticket I would."
#x reader#reader insert#miraculous#miraculous ladybug#chat noir#chat noir x reader#chat noir x male reader#adrien agreste#adrien agreste x reader#Adrien agreste x male reader#x male reader#idol fanfic
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I’m curious what the others finfolk forms look like, what kinda tails and colors do they have, markers, etc. I’m so excited for the au!
I am not feeling well enough to really draw so I will just give descriptions instead! I'll be sure to draw everyone at some point though, but if you want me to ping (or just message) you or anyone else just private message me or let me know in replies.
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For all neighbors minus Home:
Each and every neighbor will grow claws, teeth, increased height, increased strength, and webbed hands when fully transformed. As for clothes, they're designed to change with their form.
Wally Darling
Wally may still be the shortest of the neighbors, but he's still quite tall when compared to normal puppets (most finmen are huge regardless). When he comes off as a normal-looking puppet, he wears a blue glass colored (blue glass is a color, it is my favorite color-) clothing, or sometimes loose-fitting beach clothes if he feels like relaxing. He often keeps a red shell pendant around his neck area and a black single earring on his right ear.
When Wally is a finman however, his yellow felt turns to scales that range from yellows, purples, teals, and different shades of blue. His ears become thick and finned, each end going up into a small S-shaped curl. Underneath the clothing, his body is covered in soft red swirling and spiraling markings, something you can he on his cheeks. Unlike the finwomen, finmen don't turn into mermaids/mermen, so he does not have a tail at all and he instead grows various fins on his body, all very colorful. Oh, and don't forget the fangs and claws...those are pretty sharp.
Barnaby
Barnaby is one of the taller finmen, but not the tallest. You can usually find him wearing shorts, sandals, shell necklaces, and a sunhat. It's just so darn hot sometimes so don't expect to see him in a shirt really. If anything he'll probably be under a shady area or relaxing in some cool water.
While he does already have teeth and claws, they are pretty dull until he transforms, having his teeth become more shark-like and claws much sharper than anyone else's. However, Barnaby is the only one here who does not grow scales at all. Instead that blue felt skin will turn into something far more smoother and paler in color almost becoming grey but not quite grey. The spots all over his body stay of course, but they become darker and more larger, creating marbled patterns. Not only is Barnaby the only one without scales, but he is the only one to grow a tail and keep his legs. The once small fluffy tail turns into a strong shark-like one, being capable of causing someone a concussion or head trauma if he really swung hard enough with it.
Sometimes everyone suspects he isn't a finman, but even if Barnaby wasn't, everyone would still love the big guy.
Howdy
Being a fisherman has its perks. One being that it tends to be a good workout, another being that you can get all kinds of stuff from the ocean. That being said, Howdy is a giant when compared to the others. In his normal form, the fisherman has medium long blue hair that's often slicked back or just braided all under his hat. You'd think that running a shop and being a fisherman would leave little time for this man to tidy up his clothes but you'd be wrong. Everything remains completely clean no matter the weather, it's almost scary. Even the shell pendant he wears on his apron is constantly shining.
Obviously having double the legs and arms leaves him with double the amount of claws to tear someone up with. As a finman, Howdy's height becomes outright terrifying to anyone he meets. Forget the scary claws and fangs, his height alone is enough to scare the fear of God into anyone.
The colors of Howdy's scales match himself much like it does with Wally and the others. Green scales fade from blues to teals and tiger-like stripes decorate his body, leaving oval spirals on his cheeks.
Eddie
Probably the friendliest captain out there with the coat to match! Often times Eddie will be wearing his white captain's coat and hat, having a shell pendant pinned to the black suit he wears under. He always stays tidy, keeping his red hair slicked back under his hat.
As a finman, Eddie will also grow in size. This is when his usual friendly appearance turns more scary to some. Being large and having a giant captain's coat squaring your shoulders can look intimidating. Along that, Eddie's hair tends to get more rougher and slightly wavy, so he lets it down every once in a while.
Frank
Frank is the only one that wasn't a finman before moving in on the island, having been a normal puppet before. He still prefers to remain as his normal puppet self on most days unless it's rainy or stormy. Usually he is wearing vests, casual clothes, and colors that are muted in color, preferring to keep the shell pendant he has on a butterfly bow, keeping the bow as a reminder of his old life.
In the rare times that he decides to be more fin-like, the only things about Frank that change is that he grows teal, purple, and grey scales, square-ish finned ears, squared swirls, and fangs.
Julie
Being a finwoman (or mermaid) has it's perks.
Julie will on most days wear light colored fluffy dresses with thick high sandals, a large sunhat, and a shell necklace to match. If not a dress, then she'd be happy to wear anything good for the beach so she can go ahead and jump in the water at any time.
As a mermaid, Julie transforms her legs into a long and strong tail, being just as strong as finmen (no really, you do NOT want to get hit with her tail). Her scales often reflect the dresses she usually wears, which are deep shades of coral reds, pinks, oranges, and yellows. The fins at the end of her tail are wide and flowing, sometimes she'll even wrap herself up in them for fun.
The ears differ slightly from the others as they appear more softer and fluffy with light pink swirls and sparkles dusting her face.
Sally
Sally is sometimes nicknamed Sally Scarlet for several reasons. One reason being the clothing she wears. Everything is always extravagant or just screams passion, having everything in shades of red and black.
Sally is the only one who is almost always in her mermaid form. No really, she even has a part of her house with an indoor pool that leads to the ocean because she just doesn't feel like getting out of the water yet. Her tail is much longer than Julie's but more slim and much sharper, some scales being so sharp they can be flung or used as throwing knives. The weapon tail is made up of blood red scales with speckled black and gold scales scattered on her body.
She often wears a golden crown around her already existing crown (she's a star so duh) and dark makeup to compliment her scales. Of course, she painted her claws black to match. Dramatic...
Poppy
Poppy is probably the most colorful out of the neighbors, having literally every color in the rainbow on her. You can usually find her outside gardening with Julie, wearing nothing (because she has feathers) or just wearing a light colored shawl with a matching sunhat. She often carries her shell or clips it to a shawl.
However, Poppy is a little bit different like Barnaby when it comes to her original form, but no one questions it really. Like the other mermaids, Poppy will form a tail consisting of the rainbow, but the rest of her body becomes much larger and longer, resembling something closer to a serpent. The feathers soon turn into long spikes and sharp scales that could easily cut through steel. Her wings become giant fins and her beak grows a sharp curved end. She doesn't transform ever much like Frank due to her scaring herself and others sometimes.
Home
It is known that Home has a physical body, but no one other than Wally has talked to him. The only time anyone ever gets a glimpse of Home is when a shell is being given to a neighbor. Large clawed and black scaly hands reach out from the dark whirlpool to take the shell and imbued his magic into it before it's given back.
Sorry for any spelling errors, I'm a bit tired right now.
#welcome home#welcome home au#welcome home finfolk au#finfolk#au#welcome home wally darling#wally darling#welcome home barnaby b beagle#barnaby b beagle#welcome home howdy pillar#howdy pillar#welcome home frank frankly#frank frankly#welcome home eddie dear#eddie dear#julie joyful#welcome home julie joyful#welcome home poppy partridge#poppy partridge#welcome home sally starlet#sally starlet
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Sweetie; part 2
Bob Floyd x F! Reader “Sweetie” 18+ minors please do not interact :)
(Bob gives me soft-dom vibes and this is a reflection of that feeling)
Series with @blimpintime, go check out the Jake "Hangman" Seresin x F!Reader story they’re writing, our stories are intertwined :) !!!!
Dyna had found me leaned against my locker with my head in my hands and had lent me a sympathetic ear. I don't give her all the details of my encounter with Bob but once she found out about my scheduled date she smacked me hard on the arm.
“You’re going though right?”, she asks eagerly.
“I mean… yea, It would be kinda rude to stand him up.” I say sheepishly
“Girl who gives a shit about being rude,” she throws her hands in the air exasperated. “You clearly like something about him, you're red as a lobster.” Dyna smirks at me and picks up her drink to take a sip.
“Well,” I say, bringing my hands to my face, “He is pretty cute and the way he asked was really sweet.”
Dyan rolls her eyes and pops open her locker, “Well you'll have to let me know how it goes, and hey, if you wanna use my curler I’ll give you extra 15 on your break.”
I pick up my coffee and smile before bringing it to my lips, “Sounds like a plan.”
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………
The clock is ticking closer and closer to four and my anxiety is spiking with each passing minute. My date with Bob is crawling closer and closer and closer, and his words keep reverberating in my head.
‘I let very few people call me Bobby.’
What was that supposed to mean? Only people he liked? Only people he was interested in? What if it's only people he wanted to take home at the end of the night?
Before my mind can wander too much further my ‘Lock up :)’ alarm dings on my phone, which meant I had five minutes till four. Dyan was having me lock up before I left for the night. I make my way to the break room and take one last look at myself, freshly curled hair, lip-gloss Dyna practically put on me, and the same clothes I’d been in all day, minus the tacky vest.
The same clothes that Bob had liked.
I turn from the mirror quickly and grab my tote, checking that the door to outside was locked and arming the security system. I made my way through the empty hangar and flipped the row of light switches all off before stepping into the lobby and locking the glass doors behind me. As I walk I’m able to see more of my surroundings through the front doors.
There stood Bob in profile, looking down the street. He’s dressed similar to the morning but now instead of a pair of stylish sneakers he wore heavy brown boots. His jacket was zipped to his sternum and he had one hand in his pocket. The hand I could see drummed a beat out on his thigh. I feel my lips turn up at the sight of him and butterflies erupt in my stomach, his words drifting back to me. I push the door open and he turns at the noise and his face splits into a grin upon seeing me. He starts walking towards me and I wave.
“Hello again Sweets,” his smile is practically glowing.
“Hi, let me just lock up and thenI thought maybe we could take a walk on the beach.” I say, sliding my key into the lock and turning it to click.
Bob chuckles, “A long walk on the beach huh? What cheesy movie did you get that from.”
I feel my face heat up, why was I just realizing how cheesy that sounded. I quickly cover for myself, “Or ya know we could walk around downtown, or get dinner, or-” I feel myself begin to ramble and turn towards Bob but i'm surprised to find him not even a foot from me. You’d think he's a stealth pilot from how quietly he moved.
He smiled down at me, lips sweet but eyes wicked, “ Actually, I do like long walks on the beach, but I thought we could take a ride first.”
His words are like honey and my heart stutters. I blink at him owl eyed, processing what he had said to me but unable to conjure a response. “Uh,” responded intelligently.
He gently slides a hand into mine, “Common Sweets, nothing’ to be scared of.” I follow him in a bit of a daze, across the road to the parking lot, after Bob stops and looks both ways. ‘What a dork’, I think to myself and smile, I’ve always had a soft spot for dorks.
I’m so distracted by my own thoughts I almost don't realize Bob has stopped, I stumble for a split-second and catch myself. We have stopped at a motorcycle of all things. The words ‘Kawazaki’ and ‘z440’ are written on the side. The intimidating machine is black with silver accents and hardware. The seat dips in the middle and then forms a sloping shelf, meaning it's a two seater. I look up at Bob and he's already smiling.
“We don’t have to,” he says smile falling a little after seeing the shock on my face, “I know a lot of people are scared of them, and for good reason. We can just walk to the beach if you’d like.”
There is a pause where we stand and look at eachother, his face contorted into a forced smile and ming still surprised, before I burst out laughing.
“Bobby! You’ve gotta be kidding! This is amazing, of course we have to go for a ride!” I squeeze his hand tightly, he’s still holding onto me.
His face lights up and he brings my hand to his mouth for a quick kiss. “Let me grab your helmet,” he says before dropping my hand and picking up one of the helmets that hung on the handles. He gingerly hands it to me, it's shiny and black with a flip up visor. So much for curling my hair. Bob lifts his off the other handle and I can tell that mine is his spare. The helmet he holds is similar to a pilot's helmet. It's a queasy shade of green with three large brownish stripes tailing over the top. I can see a few stickers placed on the back, the most attention grabbing being a large, yellow triangle that reads, ‘Baby on Board’, similar to the kind you might see in the back window of a car. I giggle a little at the sticker and Bob gives me a curious look.
“Sorry,” I waved a hand in front of me, shifting the helmet under my arm,” I just love your stickers.” Bob glances down at the helmet and blushes.
“Oh yea, that's kinda an inside joke between Phoenix and I. She got me this sticker a while after we started flying together.” Bob slid the helmet over his head and secured it before nodding his head at the one setting under my arm, “Need some help?”
I shake my head and slide the helmet over my head and give it a little wiggle to get in place. When Bob comes into view what little I can see of his face is red, and he reaches up to flip my visor down. He holds out his hand and steps back, “After you Sweets.”
I exhale and swing my leg over the bike as Bob holds it steady and scoot back into the passenger seat. For the second time today I thank my guardian angel for telling me to wear pants today. Bob slides his leg over the bike in one practiced motion and he glances over his shoulder at me.
“I want you to wrap your arms around my waist and hold on tightly. Just pat my leg if you want me to slow down and squeeze my knee if you want me to stop, okay?” I nod at his instructions, repeating them to myself, pat to slow down, squeeze to stop.
Bob's hand goes to turn his key but pauses before starting the bike, “The best way to stay on is to stay really close to me.” I could detect the hint of a smile from under his helmet and the bike rumbled to life under me. A squeak escapes my lips and I hope Bob can’t hear it.
I wrap my arms around his waist tentatively and I see Bob glance over his shoulder and shakes his head back and forth. I loosen my arms a little confused. Bob contorts his arm to touch my hip and gives me a pull forward so that my hips are pressed flush to his. He releases my hip and moves my arms tighter around his waist. I feel my face heat up in the confines of the helmet as Bob releases the kick stand. I press my chest to his back and give his waist a reassuring squeeze. I feel him relax a little bit and the bike starts to move, slowly, through the parking lot.
As we make our way onto the main roads the wind moves through my clothes and I can’t keep the smile off my face. We cut smoothly through the streets, pressed closely. The bike rumbles between my legs and my face feels hot. Bob takes me nowhere and everywhere with no particular destination in mind. We pass the port, beaches,and the HardDeck. I look around me like I haven't traveled these roads hundreds of times. The combination of Bob's cologne and his body keeping me warm the wind doesn't bother me.
As the sun starts to throw longer shadows along our path bob starts to take more turns guiding us towards a public beach. We find a parking lot off the side of the road with a set of steps leading down to the sand. Bob moves the kickstand out and holds his hand over his so I could take it and slide off the bike. Bob swings his leg over and I pull his helmet from my head. Bob does the same and we both grin at each other, his hair is standing at a weird angle and I'm sure mine doesn't look much better. As confirmation a strand falls in my face, before I can move Bob's hand is gently swiping it back into place. He smiles gently at me and then pulls away to scratch the back of his neck.
“Your hair is all over the place,” I giggle out the obvious and Bob glances up at me bashfully.
“Yea?” he questions, “wanna fix it for me?” He gingerly removes the helmet from my hands and hangs both of them on the handle bars, before half sitting and half leaning on the seat of his bike. My face feels hot as I step in closer and his knees spread a little farther allowing me to get closer to him.
I gently reach up and run a hand through his hair. It looks a little darker but I see golden streaks gliding through the waves of his hair. It’s soft too, freshly washed and easy to run my fingers through. I brush it into a poor substitute of the neat combed shape he had earlier. I go to step back and I feel his hands softly touch low on my hips. I look down at him in surprise and he smiles up at me, the golden rays of the sun giving him an ethereal glow.
“Thank you Sweetie,” I feel his hand trail down the back of my arm and his fingers slide through mine before bringing my knuckles softly to his lips.
My heart thumps loudly in my chest and I’m unable to move as he stands, still chest to chest with me. Still holding my gaze and still smiling.
“Ready to go?” Bob asks softly, pulling me back to my body. I nod and look down at my feet and Bob tugs at my hand which makes me realize he hasn't let go of mine. He leads us down the rickety stairs towards the beach, due to it being the off season it's mostly empty. We kick off our shoes when we get to the loose sand. Bob gently lifts my shoes from my hand and holds both pairs in his left hand and my hand in his right. We make our way down to the surf and walk slightly out of the reach of the tide. We smile and run down the list of terrible first-date-questions.
Bob loves legos, specifically the flower sets. His favorite holiday is Valentine's day and favorite color is rusty orange. I laughed as he told me about his older brother and two younger sisters and what kind of trouble they got into as kids. He told me about his dad who worked as a professor and his mom who had also served in the Navy. He showed me a few pictures of his dogs and one of him atop a horse, which he affectionately called Cassie.
He flipped through a few more before showing me another picture of a small orange cat resting on his chest,asleep. As cute as the cat was I couldn't help but notice he lacked a shirt in that photo, taken from a high angle with lighting that made his skin look warm and soft.
We finally decided to make our way back to Bob's bike for the ride home. He lets me sit on steps as we pull on our shoes. As I'm tying one of my sneakers, Bob puts one knee on the steps and ties my other for me. I smile at the small act of service. Bob looks at me from his place on the stairs and smiles.
“Sweetie?” His voice is soft and gentle.
“Yes?” I whisper back.
“Let me know if I'm being too forward but,” my heart thuds faster in my chest, “if you keep smiling at me like that I might carry you up these stairs and see how many laws I can break to get you alone faster.” My face is hot but a smile creeps back across my face anyway. Bobs expression promises mischief.
“Well,” I cleared my throat a little, wondering if I really want to say what I'm about to say, “how many laws could you break Bobby?”
His eyes go wide before he surges forward and he scoops me up. I yelp and then I laugh as he climbs the stairs with me halfway over his shoulder. I laugh louder as I shout into his lower back, “If you carry me, what was the point of putting on our shoes?”
My feet touch the ground back next to Bob's motorcycle and he catches my waist before I can move away from his intoxicating presence. He leans down and murmurs in my ear, “I’ll take you home if you like, but I’d really love for you to come home with me tonight Sweetie.”
I place my hands on his chest and lean back to look him in the eye sternly. I glance down at his lips and I can tell he notices by the way his grip tightens but he remains still, waiting for my go ahead. I only respond by moving in closer and softly joining my lips to his and Bob returns the favor.
We hold each other like that for a moment, then pull away breathless but wanting more. Bob runs his palm along my jaw to the back of my neck and gently brings me in for another kiss. Then another. I slide my tongue against his lower lip and he takes that as an invitation. His hand tightens slightly on the back of my skull and a small gasp escapes me as he gently bites at my lower lip testing me. I lean in closer and he bites a little harder. His hands slide from my waist to my lower back and press my torso to his.
As he pulls away again his look is hungry, “Another ride for ya Sweetie?” I blush at the innuendo and pluck ‘my’ helmet off the handle and pop it confidently over my head.
“Ready when you are Bobby,” I say smiling at him as he grabs his own and slips it over his head.
Bob smirks at me from under his helmet before reaching up to flip my visor down, “No, Sweet Thing, I don’t think you are.”
..............................................................................................................................
AN; oh no! What ever could she not be prepared for?? could it be Bob's massive di-
Part 3 already posted >:)
-okay, bye, thanks for reading, love you <3
#minors fuck off#top gun maverick#bob floyd#bob floyd x female character#bobfloydisagentleman#top gun fanfiction#bob floyd smut#bob floyd x female reader#bob floyd x y/n#bobfucks#Bobfloydsmut#bob floyd fluff#tgm x reader#tgm fandom#tgm#rhett abbott
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