#And I am TOO SHY to send you asks directly

[somegrumpynerd]

Me every time somebody says something nice in the replies or tags on my posts

[byeuijoo]

am i in love? 𐀔 boynextdoor

genre : fluff ⋆ warnings : very, very cheesy ⋆ word count : 594

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⭒ park sungho

when he realized he loved you as more than just a friend, sungho tried to play it cool. which is funny because, in reality, you soon realized that something had changed : he was trying more to flirt with you and get your attention, while selling his merits by making you understand that he was better than the others. he'd show you a bit more of his muscles, show you his soccer skills.. and even though he tried to be discreet about his feelings, he failed miserably when you asked him directly if he had a crush on you.

⭒ lee riwoo

when he realizes he's fallen in love with you, sanghyeok tends to be more distant with you, but simply out of sheer shyness. but he'll still do his best to get your attention in subtle ways : he delivers flowers at your house with a little card and a hand-written poem, he tries to send you signals on social networks, hoping that miraculously you'll understand that he's talking to you.. he's a discreet admirer whom you've noticed and whom you like to panic by getting a little too close to him, just to see his cheeks redden because of your smile.

⭒ myung jaehyun

he was already clingy, but when he realizes he's developed feelings for you, oh boi, jaehyun is even more clingy. nevertheless, there are some changes that you can easily notice : the tips of his ears get redder when you flirt with him, he's always trying to hold your hand in his, even when you're doing nothing but sitting close to each other, he always tries to get your attention and gets sulky when you talk to other boys.. he's so down for you, he can't help reminding you that he exists all the time.

⭒ han taesan

to have spent so much time by your side, getting to know you and finding out more about you, dongmin realized that his heart was beating faster than normal when his eyes met your smile. he'll become more shy, without giving you radio silence. but let's just say that he laughs more easily at your jokes, that he observes you smiling like an idiot more often, and most of all, he'll share more of his favorite music with you. (he's probably trying to convey his feelings through the lyrics, but you're too blind to see it.)

⭒ kim leehan

to say that donghyun has had a crush on you since first sight would not be a lie — of course, his feelings built up gradually, but you were already running through his mind every day since you met. he's quite calm, and has no trouble keeping his feelings to himself, but he tends to look you in the eye in a different way now. more warmly, more tenderly, with a hint of shyness in his eyes. and he has to admit that your smile makes his heart skip a beat.

⭒ kim woonhak

woonhak is totally vocal about the fact that he loves you. he don't care about other people opinions, he just wants to make sure you know he likes you. so every day, he brings you a carton of his favorite chocolate milk, leaving a note on it, reminding you that he likes you — again. or he'll probably just show up when you least expect it, standing in front of you with the most dazzling smile, and you have to admit that hearing him say those words in person makes you all shy and smiley. even if you need time to make a decision, woonhak remains patient and does everything to keep your full attention on him.

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reblogs & feedbacks are highly appreciated !

taglist ౨ৎ @wtfhyuck @florainnie @dazzlingligth @yuma-is-mine @lilriswife4life @leehanascent @wantmatthew

[sugurugetofavoritemonkey]

request for ethan 🤭

reader drunkenly confesses her feelings about ethan to tara or chad or something and then she avoids him the following day bc shes shy or embarrassed, but he totally likes her back (everyone knowsssss)

and it ends in smut or fluff? 😛

ps i adore ur writing! <3

A/N : Hii ! 🖤 Thank so much for your request that I loved doing, this type of idea works so well with Ethan and is so cute 🥰 Also thank you for liking my writing and sending me Ethan’s ideas, it always makes me so happy 💖 Please tell me if I did justice to your request, and you can still send more for Ethan ! ✨

Reader drunkenly confesses her feelings for Ethan to Tara and gets shy about it when in reality, everyone already knows that Ethan feels the exact same way for you.

You were at a party with all your friends, including your dearest one Ethan Landry. You even enjoyed most of this night alongside him and almost only with him as the both of you giggled, talked about anything and everything and held hands to walk through that pool of people to fill your cups. Maybe a bit too many drinks for you it seems as you were now talking with Tara, sitting on the couch in the corner, while Ethan was busy talking with Chad at the other end of the room. You started talking with her about trivial things at first but as your hazy gaze found Ethan, your drunken mind started to change the subject on its own. It has been minutes since you started talking about Ethan to Tara who listened to you with a little smile, your drunken words slowly switched from random thoughts to more precise ones that could easily be directly linked to your feelings for Ethan as you ramble about him with a slurred voice.

« …and you know, Ethan’s always kind to me. The other day, he made sure that my necklace was placed right and tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear. He also always holds my hand when there’s a lot of people at the cafeteria, a-and he helps me with the homework that I struggle with…and I think he compliments me every morning about some nice details he noticed on me. I t-think I like being with him…maybe…I don’t know. », you stop your rambling for a few seconds in a pout as you think about Ethan with a smile on your face.

Tara looks at you with a knowing smirk. Everybody perfectly knew that you and Ethan were meant for each other…the problem was simple : you were both incredibly blind in this situation. Tara took this situation as an opportunity to move things forward for you both as she asks you, « Do you like him ? Like…do you have feelings for Ethan ? »

Without even looking back at Tara, you swiftly nodded your head at her in a natural admission, your drunken state blurring your mind as your reactions become too instinctive and honest for a moment, « Of course I do…he’s the most perfect guy I’ve ever encountered in my life. »

Tara doesn’t have time to react when your eyes go wide as you realize what you just admitted out loud in front of your friend. Your eyes scan the room in panic in a way to make sure that Ethan wasn’t anywhere close enough to hear that.

You laugh it off and try to make her forget what you just said, « Forget about it, I d-don’t even know what I’m saying. Ethan’s just a friend, a very good friend… right ? »

Tara gently laugh at you as she rubs your hand in a reassuring way, « You don’t sound so sure of that statement, am I right ? »

The next day, you made your best to avoid Ethan at all costs seeing how embarrassed and shy you got when you admitted out loud your feelings for him, even though he wasn’t there to hear. What you didn’t take into consideration was the fact that it was almost impossible to avoid Ethan without acting strange. You both practically spend your entire days glued to each… and now what ? Ethan would have to live without knowing what he did wrong ? The poor boy took the entire morning searching in his mind what he possibly could have done wrong, his puppy eyes looking at you from afar as he seemed completely lost while talking about it with Chad.

« Do you think that I’ve made her mad or sad ? It wasn’t my attention…maybe she didn’t get a good grade with my advice for the math exercises. And it’s true that I was a bit late to pick her up this morning to accompany her to school but still… », Ethan pouts a bit while his legs don't stop moving and his right foot taps on the ground due to the anxiety of not finding his fault in all of this.

Chad just can’t hold his laugh any longer at the sight of his poor friend breaking his mind over you.

« Man, you do realize that you’re better to her than any guy she knew in her entire life, right ? »

Ethan is dumbfounded as he looks at his friend like he hasn’t done anything particular, « I mean, I just want her to be happy and to protect her, that’s all. »

Chad smiles at the pure innocence of Ethan, « Well, I think that’s enough for her to fall in love with a cute guy like you. »

Ethan’s eyes grow even wider at the realization of what Chad just said. Ethan’s voice grows pitched as he talks faster in excitement.

« What ?? She likes me ?? Since when did you know that ?? Did she tell you ?? And are you sure about that ?? Becau— », Chad cuts Ethan’s rambling before he wouldn’t be able to calm him down.

« Hey hey hey, relax, everybody knows that since months ago, AT LEAST. »

Ethan looks at his feet in silence to register how blind he was to your signals, even though he doesn’t know you weren’t better than him on that matter, « Oh… »

Chad tries to cheer him up by poking his side lightly, « Tara told me that your girl was just as dense as you about your relationship, even though it’s clear as day that you both love each other. Come on…do you realize that you don’t go a day without seeing her at least every 2 hours ?? Talk to her about it, I’m sure it will be better for her and you. I don’t even know how you both are able to not jump on each other with how close you guys are. », Chad finishes with a chuckle and a sigh.

After talking with Chad, Ethan is now pretty motivated to find you and finally confess his feelings for you, and it doesn’t take long for him to spot you in the corridor as he successfully corners you against a wall.

You avoid his gaze with a blush as Ethan surprises you with a confidence that he rarely shows, as he firmly yet gently takes your wrist in his large hand to lead you in an empty classroom.

« We have to talk. »

Once inside, Ethan lets go of your wrist and you both stand in front of each other close enough that his fingers still brush against yours.

There’s a moment of silence before Ethan speaks first, his early confidence now starts to fade just a little when his eyes find yours and he starts fidgeting with his fingers to choose his words carefully.

« I-I know why you avoid me so much today and I wanted to tell you something. We’ve been friends for so long and I developed f-feelings that exceed this type of relation, that you perhaps, and I hope so, share as well… I don’t like it when we don’t talk or don’t see each other b-because… I really like you… I-I love you. », Ethan declares to you in such a soft and gentle voice as he opens up and declares his feelings for you.

You look at him with big soft eyes as you chew on your lips when your heart stomps against your chest so loudly that you fear that Ethan can hear it as well. With all the courage you can gather, your trembling hand searches for his to hold two of his fingers. Your voice is shaking but Ethan finds the honesty in it touching as he brightly smiles at you the way you adore.

« I love you as w-well Ethan, far more than you can imagine. »

Ethan’s free hand cups your cheek tenderly as if you could break as he asks you in a silent voice, with his eyes focused on your lips.

« Can I kiss you, please ? »

You nod at him instinctively as Ethan’s mouth presses against yours in a kiss that you desperately craved for god knows how long. The kiss is gentle at first, soft and experimental. Ethan caresses your cheekbones with a featherlight touch as you stand on your tiptoes to deepen the kiss that quickly turns eager with all the excitement and emotions shared between him and you. Ethan’s tongue licks at your lips to ask for entrance as you willingly give it to him without hesitation. Heavy kissing becomes making out when the sound of heavy breathing is shared between your lips that glisten with wet saliva, seeing how messy you’re passionately kissing each other, like you both desired it for too long. Ethan’s hand comes to softly caress your nipples, his touch warm as you moan against his mouth and pull slightly on his curly hair.

Out of breath, you both break the kiss as you look at each other with half-lidded eyes, your lips and his still connected with a thin string of saliva.

Ethan is the first to murmur against your swollen lips, « You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to do this for a long time. »

You giggle against his lips out of happiness of hearing something you absolutely agree with, before being slightly startled by knocks on the door.

You look at each other dumbfounded before Ethan reassuringly intertwines his fingers with yours as you leave the classroom still a bit out of breath and with disheveled hair just from making out. Ethan and you awkwardly smile at Chad and Tara who are standing outside the door with knowing smiles at your looks and the way your free hand holds onto Ethan’s arm with a blush. Tara and Chad look at each other with a sigh, « What have we done ? »

Their eyes are back on you both now, teasing you sarcastically, « We don’t want to see you both sharing saliva every 5 minutes, got it ? »

💗 Ethan Landry Masterlist 💗

[spiceofvy]

🐙 here. again. How about Stray Kids as sugar babies? I don't mean that they're like, broke, but like if their partner treats them so much and so often that the sugar baby sugar parent jokes speak for themselves.

Anyway, who likes what kind of gifts; such as For-maximum-eyecandy-effect, being taken to events, cool tech, treated to food, that sort of thing. ...something around those lines, I mean, you're the writer so maybe you got a cooler spin on this.

Am currently unemployed and can't treat nobody rn but I feel the itch to be a sugar parent nowdays.

Hope you knock em dead ✌️

Spoiling SKZ with gifts

cws: fluff, gender neutral reader, two sensual innuendos (hyunjin, jeongin)

Chan: Noooo don't buy him things. He is the one that wants to spoil you instead. That's like his duty in the relationship. But he will wear anything and everything you buy for him. Especially if it's skzoo merch, but only if you also get something matching for yourself or else he will get it for you. Will pout and blush when you give him something but when someone asks him about it he will proudly tell everyone that you got it for him.

Minho: Shamelessly asks for things he likes but only he is 100% percent sure that you don't mind spending money on him and actually enjoy buying him stuff. Would totally love some expensive cat toys, or those treat dispensers that cats have to activate by pressing a button or solving a puzzle. Also enjoys being taken to super fancy restaurants, but he always insists on paying for the dessert. Once send you a picture of a fancy kitchen appliance as a joke and was very shocked when you actually got it for him.

Changbin: Our rich boy makes a challenge out of it. Who can spend more money on the other? Doesn't love to go out to restaurants but likes to get luxury takeout instead. Also enjoys a lot of expensive workout gear. Sends you even more workout pics afterwards. Answers any gift of yours with one of his own. Also shares every piece of food with you that you paid for and asks you to come to the gym with him so you can see him in the new gear.

Hyunjin: Less shameless than Minho, he wont straight up ask for things but instead sometimes just sends you links to stuff he likes. Especially likes being taken out to art shows or galleries. Or full shopping trips. Always models the stuff you got him afterwards for you. Especially when it's jewelry or perfume he wears only the jewelry and the perfume. Will totally tell the other boys that you paid for it, like the proud sugar baby he is.

Jisung: Mostly asks for food. Like snacks and (imported) candy. Ask absolutely shamelessly for it. Especially at food stands, picks like every different taste and makes you try it with him. Gets super happy about the good food. Also likes to be taken out to carnivals and theme parks. Prepare to pay and wear silly headbands and pose for all the photo ops. Also always buys you something in return.

Felix: Really enjoys being treated like that. Blushes dark red when you give him something and thanks you by plastering kisses all over your face. Especially like some fancy gaming equipment or lootboxes or genshin pulls. Totally shows off his new equipment to you and brags about it towards the others. Would never directly ask for anything, except for plushies. He gives them names and then treats them like they are your children.

Seungmin: Was really shy when you started to buy things for him. But he actually enjoys being spoiled. Mostly baseball tickets and manga. Really impressed when you know a new release before him. Gets soft about those gifts and treasures them a lot. Always blushes a little when he gets something from you. Invites you out for dinner shortly after you gifted him something.

Jeongin: Really enjoys being spoiled, full maknae mode. Loves getting clothes and short vacations. But always pays you back afterwards. Models the clothes, and gets you something matching. Massage your shoulders on the beach you took him too. Surely only with the intention to spread sun protection on your shoulders and back. Don't mind his hands wandering lower, and his pretty new clothes landing on the ground.

[meieis]

Something not to be learned- Lute x Seraphim angel! Fem! Reader

My note: Y/N are constantly surprised in this fic, there is nothing we can do, anyway, I have been thinking about writing this as my fic for a long time, finally it is finished. It's something I've been thinking about writing for a long time and now ıt's here. This story's/fic's timeline when Vaggie was still an exorcist angel, though she is not mentioned here

Warning(?): swearing, Adam implicitly (actually explicitly) saying 'that thing', insinuations of sexual intercourse made by Adam. Finally, the reader was mentioned as a fem, but if you are a male or want to read as a male, think of the places where the reader is mentioned as a fem as if they were mentioned as a male.

Synopsis: After Adam confirms your feelings for Lute, he puts you in ridiculous situations to get you to confess your feelings for Lute. But in the end, Lute finds out about your feelings, but she still chooses not to tell you that she learned this

Adam had been strange lately, the absurdity of the nicknames he gave himself didn't get any better or less, the weird thing was that he acted as if he was suspicious of something, one day he asked you to join him while he was having something to eat again. "You're gaining too much weight," you said calmly. Adam stopped drinking the drink he was drinking after your words. "You're too skinny, am I saying anything?" He said playfully and leaned back "What do you think of Lute?" Hearing the question surprised you "well... Maybe cute...?" You say and Adam smiled when he heard this "Yes baby, my Danger Tits girl is cute, But what I'm asking is would you do that thing?" He made that gesture with his hands that symbolized female sexual intercourse. "I don't know if Lute is interested in women, though?" He says and then your eyebrows are furrowed. How could he dare to ask you this? You are his superior, you are superior to him. Noticing your confused looks, Adam's smile widens and he continues talking. "What's the matter, baby? Or are you shy?" You couldn't say anything. After a few minutes, when you got over the shock, you looked at him. "How dare you ask such a questio-" Adam cut you off, "What have you never do before?, look baby, everyone can do 'that thing' here, and besides... It feels good, I mean-" He said angrily. You looked at him angry, This was a warning to Adam not to continue. "Look, I understand the warning, but just tell me yes or no?" You sighed to calm yourself, covering your face to think. "Are you depressed?" Adem said as he continued to drink his drink and sit comfortably. "Yes, I would." When he heard this, he squirted the drink he drank from his mouth. "Adam! Eww" you said as you walked directly to the side where there was no bath, he still looked confused at the answer "holly shit... Really? " He said with surprise, you nodded.

And now you put up with his nonsense, he confirmed he's suspicions and sends you to ridiculous places with Lute, the love hotel is an example of this, he said we will have the meeting in the love hotel and you went knowing that he will not touch you and what do you see in the room Lute! You ask "What are you doing here?" You asked while looking at Lute "Oh, your highness... Adam called me here for the meeting" FUCK. That bastard, you ran out of the room directly slamming the door and quickly found him "Y/N! You told a man so quiet-" You interrupted Adam, and you say "What the hell are you doing?!" It took a while to calm you down.

But he didn't stop as he is now, standing in the empty meeting room, Adam told you that he wanted to have a meeting about hell and he didn't say why you didn't do it with Sera, but yes, right now you are here in strange silence with Lute... "why don't you sit down?" You asked in the most polite tone you could. Lute shrugged. “Thanks for asking, but there's no need.” she said in an emotionless tone. You felt too embarrassed to look at Lute. In fact, it was only because of Adam's efforts to get you closer to her. You sighed. “Lute... So i-" she interrupt your speak "don't worry about the love hotel thing. It's just sir's bullshit" she said emotionlessly and continued "i got a weird nickname around him, it's 'Y/N's bitch'" you're completely confused, a reason to kill adam again! You stood up "WHAT?!" You said in surprise, but Lute didn't even show any signs of emotion. She looked after you as you quickly left the room.

"you-" you said as you grabbed Adam's collar, which was a strange sight to the others "What?" He asked in surprise, you noticed the looks of humans, or rather angels, good souls and let him go, "Are you calling Lute 'Y/N's bitch'?" You asked with a frown, but this didn't change Adam's relaxed demeanor. "Look baby, I'm showing people that she's possessive, she have a Master~" he said playfully while pointing at you but you just covering your face with your hands, you groaned in anger. "chillax babe, We both know you love Lute" his smile grew when he got an exasperated look from you "I wish you didn't know this" you turned your back on him, Adam put his hand on your shoulder "You know, you have to get Lute to bed first or they'll catch-" you frowned at him "Fuck off Adam"

At that time, Lute was hiding and listening to these, she was definitely surprised, not by your swearing, but that is a reason for surprise... Did he just hear that you loved her, that is, HERSELF, it is impossible, you are a seraphim and she is an ordinary angel, no matter how exorcist angel she is... You are not on the same level, she is the low one not you but now she understands everything better, all that nonsense that Adam did... Everything was trying to bring you together and make you confess your feelings, Lute quickly returned to the meeting area and when she saw you coming, she acted like she didn't hear anything, she not told you your secret. It will hold for a while, but hearing this made her feel a feeling she's never felt before... Is this the bullshit they call love?.. she does not know

extra :

"Sir, can you stop calling me that nickname? We're in the middle of an exorcist thing." She said looking at Adam as she killed the sinners. "What's wrong 'Y/N's bitch'" Since she wouldn't take her anger out on Adam, she started taking it out on the Sinners. She thrust the exorcism weapon into and out of the corpse at least ten times "Chillax lute... Fuck" Adam said as he took a few steps back.

[finniestoncrane]

Farrell!Penguin x Plus Size!Fem!Reader, word count: 8.5k commission: i am an oswald cobblepot fat girl lover truther, and i am always so so so so overjoyed when i get to write him loving on a big girl!! this is a sweet commission i got for a slightly shy and maybe a bit insecure and nervous plus size reader going on a date with oswald and then having some dessert afterwards... 💜🐧 commission me here! request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: weight/insecurities mentioned, passing up food, awkward dinner date, penetrative sex, there's a magnum condom for my monster dong moment in here so you better at least giggle and blush for him

It was a fairly typical Saturday for you, with the exception of the evening’s plans. The minute that five o’clock had hit, you were rushing up off the sofa to start getting ready. Not that you had been doing anything except sitting in silence and waiting all day. Every time you tried to read or work on your latest craft project, or even turn on the TV for some mindless, numbing background noise, you had been immediately distracted by your nerves. And worst of all, those nerves had now made you ever so slightly behind your own schedule.

You ran quickly from the bathroom of your small apartment to the bedroom, abandoning the towel as it fell from you, but catching it in your hand to drag it along behind, and hoping none of your neighbours happened to peer in through the blinds at that moment. Standing in the corner of your room, you wicked away at the droplets of water on your body, watching your thighs jiggle as you rubbed them down. If you spent too long on this, the painful ritual of doting on your body, you might not want to go out at all, and you couldn’t risk any kind of delay-inducing breakdown. This was too important. How often was it that people were invited out on a date with Oswald Cobblepot? 

A lot, actually, you imagined. He was handsome, charismatic, powerful, and of course, rich. A fact which you didn’t find important, but which he had flaunted anyway by sending you an outfit to wear for your dinner with him. You didn’t even recognise the name of the boutique on the packaging it arrived in, that’s how fancy it must have been. And you had immediately felt out of your depth, knowing that Oswald was more fashionable, more in the know than you. About everything, it seemed. 

Well, maybe not everything. You weren’t quite sure how certain he’d be that he’d made the right move in asking you out once you had the dress actually on. It felt too tight, and like it highlighted every part of you that you were entirely self-conscious about. Every lump, every bump, every asymmetrical curve that you found on the sides of your body, the way your stomach and back both protruded somehow. This dress found a way to highlight it, like it was set out to disappoint you. An enemy. But you were already running dangerously behind schedule, and while that of course would usually send you over the edge and into a pit of nerves, this was only amplified by a thousand, made exponentially worse by the fact that you were potentially going to be late for a date. A date with none other, and you hated to repeat yourself, Oswald Fucking Cobblepot. There really was no time for you to let in the nagging self-doubt, not tonight. If you didn’t look directly at it, then you could pretend it wasn’t happening. 

You quickly tidied up your hair, letting it fall into a slightly neater version of your usual style, and added what little makeup you were willing to wear, knowing that your nervous sweating was liable to have it all sloughing off within minutes anyway. Your concerns about looking absolutely perfect for Oswald were no longer a priority, or even a possibility. All you needed to be at this moment was presentable and on-time. And those concrete needs were slipping out of your grasp with every minute you spent panicking in your apartment. With a final deep breath and a quick check of your bag to make sure you had everything, you gripped the door handle and headed out.

Surprisingly, the forecast had been relatively pleasant for the day, and you found this to be accurate when you were out in the mild, thick air of Gotham. No rain, no wind, just a grey sky and an above average temperature for what seemed like the perpetually dismal and gloomy place you called home. Still, you carried your umbrella in your bag anyway, not trusting anything about the city. Umbrella, pepper spray, spare cell phone battery, mini first aid kit. The essentials. As you walked down the steps to the subway station a block away from your home, you wondered how many other cities necessitated this level of preparation and protection from its citizens. Surely, any other city, any normal city, even those without their own vigilante figures of justice, would maybe, at a push, carry some pepper spray. But, you wouldn’t have it any other way. Without the risk, there was no reward. And if the risk was a cavalcade of gimmicky, but dangerous, villains, the reward was Oswald Cobblepot. He was very much worth it, in the grand scheme of things.

As you waited on the platform among the throngs of other commuters, you tried to soothe your nerves by reliving the moment Oswald had approached you. Out alone, stood up by a blind date, filled with nerves about whether or not he had seen you and decided he wasn’t into ‘big girls’ and then left without a single word.And just as you had decided that the drink in your hand would be your last, your senses were overwhelmed by a presence that made your heartbeat quicken. There was a distinct warmth, a deep, almost sweet scent, and a feeling of safety that enveloped you as a figure sidled up beside you at the bar. They asked you a question, a simple one, almost cliche. 

“How’s someone like you drinking alone, sweetheart?”

When you turned to answer, you felt yourself wobble on the bar stool, body threatening to faint as you recognised Oswald Cobblepot, smiling at you, his gold tooth glinting in the dim lights of the bar. 

Initially, you thought it was a mistake, and had turned to see if there was someone prettier sitting behind you that had caught his eye. But he had placed his thumb and forefinger on your chin, turning you back around to meet his eye. A confident move that, had it been executed by anyone else, you would have been quick to beat them off and leave angrily. But this was Oswald. Fucking. Cobblepot. His charisma and reputation let him get away with a lot of things in Gotham, a bit of forceful flirting was definitely one of them.

He had asked your name, placed his hand high on your thigh as you spoke, and then apologised for having to leave so quickly. But he took your number, gave you his, and told you to be ready on Saturday, because he was taking you out to make up for whatever ‘dumb, rat bastard’ had stood you up. You had expected it to be an empty gesture, one meant to placate a damsel in distress. So when the text came in the next morning, you were giddy beyond belief, and then had to sit down and practice your deep breathing to prevent a panic attack. Then the call came, and you worked out the details together. Or at least, you agreed with every aspect of the plan that Oswald told you. 

And then yesterday, the dress had arrived. 

The box it came in was itself more extravagant and beautiful than anything you’d ever even treated yourself to after a long time saving up. One of those boxes you knew you were saving, because it would definitely come in handy somehow. And the ribbons it was tied up in, the bow on top so perfect, the tissue paper the dress was carefully nestled within, all of it was too good to toss away. Plus, it had been hand-delivered by the courier of whatever high end store Oswald had purchased it from, the logo of which you didn’t recognise even, so it was all pristine. Your excitement was only dulled when you finally dared to open the box, very carefully, and found within it that the dress was definitely far more revealing than anything you had ever owned or even considered owning. 

The low, scoop neck, the thigh high slit on the side, the tight, silk material, the thin straps, the sleeveless and backless style. None of it was your preference. And you’d known from the moment you tried it on that you’d be uncomfortable in it all evening. But it didn’t seem like there was any validity to the option of not wearing it. You might as well have spat in the box and sent it back to Oswald. No, you had to wear this dress. For him. 

The next problem, once you had accepted the fate of having each one of your curves and rolls, your arms exposed, your breasts and cleavage, albeit sagging with weight, on display, was that you had nothing to wear with the dress. You had no spare cash, and not even anything in your savings, that you could part with in order to procure some accessories or a pair of shoes or a handbag that did the dress justice. And it was winter, which meant that you would have to wear your same old coat over the top on the journey to the restaurant where you were meeting Oswald. 

“Like slapping makeup on a… yeah.” You thought it to yourself, cringing at how cruel your own words could be, but frowning at the truth. The nicest things you owned would have to do, and luckily, they were neutral enough, in silver and black, that they complemented, or at least didn’t clash with, the deep, shimmering and almost pearlescent purple of the silk fabric that made up the dress. All in all, you didn’t hate how the look had come together, but you were happy to wrap your body up in your almost ankle length puffer jacket as you thought about being viewed in public. Beneath the thick coat, no one would know, and that suited you perfectly. 

As you grimaced at the harsh wind that bit at your cheeks, oddly grateful for the way it had distracted you from your almost forlorn thought spiral, you noticed the slight rumbling of the train that signalled its arrival at the station. Jostled from side to side by other commuters desperate, for some reason, to be the first on the train, you finally found your way inside and scoped out the carriage for a seat.

Looking to your left, you caught the eye of a woman with a seat next to her, who looked down to your shoes and back up to your head with a look of vague disgust, one you were familiar with from some people. She looked to be making herself as small as possible in her seat, as if she thought you might crush her when you sat down. You decided you’d rather stand quite happily than let her judge you so extremely, and karma served her quickly as a kid wearing headphones which were blasting tinny music sat down beside her and spread his legs apart, taking up the space she had so graciously provided him, much to her chagrin.

Smiling a little, trying to keep it to yourself, you saw there was now a seat to your right, and when you looked, the man beside the empty spot smiled and shifted his bag onto his lap. With gratitude, you smiled at him as you sat down, holding your own bag in front of you and keeping yourself busy by watching your reflection in the window opposite you. It was there that you spotted the man at your side stretching his neck, trying to gaze down the front of your jacket, which had come unzipped slightly, exposing your bare neck and the deep cleavage the dress provided. Just as you prepared yourself to cough or make it known that you were well aware of what he was doing, you felt his body lean into you, far too close for comfort, and he whispered in your ear.

“Y’know, I like a big girl.”

That was enough to have you standing up and walking away to the door of the carriage. You were only one stop early, you could walk to the restaurant. Anything was better than sitting there being judged or ogled. Usually, you could shrug these gazes off, the cruelty, the fetishisation of your body, but today everything just seemed to weigh that much heavier on your mind, with no pun intended.

Once out of the station, you looked at your phone and began pounding the pavement, realising that because you had gotten off a stop earlier, you might be a few minutes later. The world felt like it was closing in on you, a catastrophe of epic proportions which would set the entire date off on the wrong foot.

“Hey, gorgeous. You rushin’ to see someone special?” 

You were in no mood now, and what little bravery you could muster was quick to come out as you turned to scold the sleaze who was trying to hit on someone who was so obviously busy. Luckily, before the tirade of venom spilled over your plump, pouting lips, you recognised the face, the smile, leaning out of the extravagant, deep purple and gold car’s window. 

“If you’re goin’ my way, I could give you a ride?”

Oswald winked, leaning over to the passenger side and pushing open the door. The restaurant was minutes away, but you got in anyway, not wanting to make things awkward by refusing a ride. With his hands on the wheel, thick fingers, gold rings on them curled around it, he took off for the short journey. As he drove, you could feel your upper lip sweating, unsure about what to do or say now, but you managed to spew some words out.

“Mr Cobblepot, it’s nice to see you again! At least I don’t have to worry about how to find you when I walk in the restaurant.”

“Oswald, doll. We’re on a date, it’s not a formal affair.”

Cursing yourself, feeling your cheeks flush a little, you let out a soft laugh.

“Oswald, thank you for the ride.”

“No problem, glad I could be of service.”

Within a few minutes you were pulling into the parking space at the front of the restaurant, one you were sure had been kept empty by the poor waiter standing out in the rain. They really rolled out the red carpet for Oswald Cobblepot around here, evidently, and the thought made you nervous. What if they were shocked by his choice of date? Confused, enough to whisper about you, to mention it to him when he got up to go to the bar alone for drinks. Maybe he’d change his mind about you if someone told him he could do better? You had to toss those thoughts to the side for now. You were on a date with him, and that was enough. If this ended horribly, if he never wanted to see you again, at the very least you could be grateful that you got this sweet taste of the good life for one evening. 

You smiled towards Oswald as he held the door open for you, trying your best to look confident, and to pretend that you weren’t terrified to enter into the building first. Already, you could feel eyes on you. These kinds of people could smell on you that you didn’t belong there. It was obvious to them. But when Oswald stepped up behind you, every lingering stare was quickly averted, no one daring to make any judgements while you were on the arm of someone so powerful. It was an interesting feeling. Safety, for one of the first times in your life. Even standing next to him felt like you were being held in a warm embrace of comfort. He just exuded a confidence you couldn’t quite find, and he seemed to have plenty to share.

Pushing ahead of you, Oswald followed the waiter to your table and pulled your seat out for you, taking the seat opposite and moving it around to sit closer. With a snap of his fingers, the wait staff rushed to move his place setting around in front of him, murmuring quiet, sincere apologies as they did so. And before you could let that inherent egoism of that power move to settle uncomfortably on your mind, he opened his wallet and passed each of them a crisp, hundred dollar bill, patting them on the back and offering his deepest gratitude. He was generous, a gentlemen, and he was kind to everyone on every rung of the ladder, it seemed. He really was absolutely perfect. 

Lifting the menu, hiding your blushing smile behind it, you studied the plentiful options and felt the drool collect against your cheeks before you reminded yourself of who you were, where you were, and who your company was, at which point you flitted your eyes to the lighter options and settled on a bland salad. 

“What’re ya havin’, kid? Remember, this is my treat.”

“Oh, thank you, Mr Co- Oswald. I was actually looking at the garden salad, it looks very nice.”

“Huh… sure thing.”

He seemed disappointed in your request, and you wondered at what point you’d gone wrong. There were a multitude of possible answers to that question though, of course, so instead you tried to steer the conversation on to another topic.

“So, do you come here often? The staff seem to know you.”

Lowering his menu, Oswald flashed you a grin, his tooth glinting as he winked. 

“They know me everywhere, doll.”

As you tried to struggle out of the whole it felt you were digging, he laughed heartily, placing his hand on your knee for a brief moment before removing it again.

“Relax, sweetheart, I’m just joking. I mean, they do know me everywhere, and I mean everywhere, but I’ve been comin’ here since I was a young man, just making my way in the world. This food’ll keep you right, keep you good on the path to success, ya hear?”

“And I ordered a garden salad. Fuck.”

“It sounds wonderful, Oswald. What are you going to have?” 

Before he could answer, an old man, who you assumed was the owner, approached the table with a notepad, slapping Oswald on the back before greeting him.

“Mr Cobblepot! Nice to see you again, and with a date this time! Lucky you!”

You smiled, unsure if he meant either you or Oswald were the lucky ones.

“What can I get you, big guy? The usual?”

Raising his hands, Oswald shook his head.

“Uh, no, not tonight friend. We’re gonna have the nicest bottle of red you’ve got, and two garden salads, thanks, chief.”

“If you say so, Mr Cobblepot.”

With that, the ticket was put in, and your meal was prepared. There was a surge of disappointment coursing through you, but considering what other limited options you had, you felt you had done the right thing. Although, you couldn’t help but feel horrendously guilty about the fact that Oswald had felt as though he couldn’t eat what he wanted. You supposed there was some unreconciled double standard there, one that was enforced by society but ultimately upheld by your own self-doubt. But you had to commit now. That was at least a concrete plan while you got through the rest of the meal.

You tried to keep your eyes on Oswald, focusing on him as he spoke. As much as you didn’t really want this date to be something you had to “get through” that was, unfortunately, how it felt. To you, this was a chore for Oswald. Something he had committed to, and had to carry on with until he was done and could say goodbye to you. An embarrassment, in the dress he hadn’t yet commented on, which of course meant he hated it. Ordering a stupid salad and making him feel bad about whatever it was that he wanted. The sooner it was over, the better, at least for him. And it meant you could stop trying to pretend like you couldn’t see the prying eyes of the other tables, looking over at you, judging your clothes, your looks, the food you might eat, the company you were keeping. 

Still, you managed to find some energy to maintain a conversation. It would have been impossible not to. Everything Oswald said, every polite, interesting question he asked you, every kind word he had commanded your attention. So much so that the time it took you both to place your forks down felt like it had gone in miraculously quick. Which it likely had. You didn’t want to look at your watch, but you imagined that given the fact you were both picking at what you would usually have considered a pretty small appetiser, that barely any time had passed at all. Not exactly value for his money, you cursed inwardly. 

Looking to your plate, you were pleased, in a cruel and self-hating way, to see that you had managed to even leave some of the salad uneaten. The fear of eating in front of people not conquered, but at least bypassed, skillfully sidestepped for another evening.

And then your stomach rumbled. 

You might have gotten away with it if you hadn’t also looked straight up and into his eyes to make sure he didn’t notice, but he did. Completely embarrassed, you made a move to excuse yourself, but he raised his hand and shook it, sighing as he spoke.

“Listen, kid… you gotta tell me. Why didn’t you just order what you wanted?”

“I… uh, I did, Oswald.”

“Look, either you’re lying to me, because I don’t think you did. Or, you’re not the kinda gal I thought you were. I can’t tell which is more disappointing.”

“Well, I’ve fucked this up. I might as well be completely honest.”

You took a deep breath, emotions running high enough to give you not a boost of confidence, but a complete lack of ability to hold your tongue.

“Ok, fine. That’s not what I wanted. I wanted the burger. The big, fat, greasy burger. With everything on it. And a side of the truffle fries. And the garlic bread. I don’t know why that was all on the menu, this place seems too fancy. I guess they have it on there for people like me. People with an unrefined palate. People who are greedy. People who are f…”

You trailed off on the last word, very aware that not only were you dangerously close to insulting yourself, but Oswald also. 

“I’m really sorry, Oswald. It’s… I should have been honest. It’s difficult for me to… I don’t like eating in front of people, usually. Not in public, and not anything that isn’t… y’know… healthy.”

Oswald wiped at his face with a napkin, and sat still for a few seconds, scrutinising you, looking to see if your words were truthful, although your shuddering breath and wet eyes suggested they were.

“Thank god for that, baby. I was worried I’d picked wrong. You shoulda just told me! You think I ain’t got a lil bit of that no good self-confidence block sometimes? I ain’t exactly the picture of a slender physique, y’know?”

He patted his stomach, smiling wide enough to pull a grin from you in return.

“I figured we’d eat together, keep each other company. I don’t date anyone I think can’t match me. You have no idea how worried I was when you were picking at that salad! You still hungry?”

Swallowing your nerves, you nodded gently, averting your eyes from him. 

“C’mon then, lemme take you out for dessert.”

Oswald stood up from the table, offering you his hand to help you out of your seat. As he led you to the door he called out behind him.

“Thank you fellas, charge it to the card!”

You stayed mostly silent in the car, worried that Oswald was still wrestling with his opinion of you. Lying, pretending to be someone you weren’t, making him think he was wrong. Those all felt like cardinal sins of dating someone as amazing as he was, and you wouldn’t be surprised if he bought you dessert and then took you home. In fact, you expected it at this point. Though you weren’t sure what you thought would happen. It seemed unlikely that you’d get anything more out of him, he had been a complete gentleman the whole evening. No overkill on the flirting, kept his hands, and his eyes, to himself. Maybe, if you had been lucky, or hadn’t messed everything up, he would have given you a goodnight kiss. But now, you felt like it was a miracle he would even give you a ride home. 

“Wait here, sweetheart, I’ll be right back.”

The car was stopped by the curb next to a little bakery you had walked by maybe once or twice on your way into the nicer side of town. You’d been so wrapped up in your own thoughts you hadn’t even noticed. From the window, you could see Oswald, laughing and talking to the woman behind the counter. He seemed to know everyone. Or, he was so personable that everyone he met instantly liked him and felt like they had a rapport. You wondered why it was so difficult for you to feel like that, though you did feel comforted by his presence. You chalked it up to your own insecurities, convinced you’d never be good enough for someone like him. 

As he exited the building, he smiled, holding up two small, white paper bags and handing them to you as he got in the car.

“What’s this?”

“Cream donuts. Best in town. Best on this coast. Best in the world maybe. They’re my favourite, and I thought you’d like to try them, since you’re sweet, and round yourself.”

Blushing, you bit the inside of your cheek to suppress the high pitched squeal that threatened to ruin the cool exterior you were clinging onto. 

“Thank you, Ozzie.”

“Ozzie?”

“Sorry! Oswald! I didn-”

“No, no, I like that. Sweetheart, you can call me whatever you like, I ain’t complaining.”

With that, he pulled out into the road and headed to your apartment, following your directions as he made the quick journey through the dark streets. When the car was stopped, he got out and opened the door for you, walking you up the steps and stopping at the front door. He was standing too far away for you to lean in and kiss him, as you were so desperate to do. It felt awkward, but you persevered. You had to speak. Without risk, there was no reward.

“Well, this is me. Would you… like to come in? I can make us coffee and we can eat our cream donuts?”

“Nothing has ever sounded better, toots.”

You smiled, unlocking the heavy front door and considering what that meant. Did he really want to spend more time with you, or was he just being polite? You couldn’t tell with him, he seemed so nice, so sweet. It wouldn’t surprise you if he agreed to marry you, and have kids with you, and retire to the Italian coast with you just out of his desire to be polite. Alternatively, it meant that he was coming into your apartment, fully aware of the implications behind that as an after date activity. So it really seemed, even though your brain fought against it, that he was into you.

Stepping in through the door, you held it open and stepped to the side against the wall to make room for Oswald. As you walked away, you tripped, feeling yourself being tugged back at your ankle by something that had latched onto your shoe. Stumbling forwards, you saw everything happen in slow motion, preparing to fall flat on your face, but instead found yourself limping into Oswald’s arms as he caught you. Looking up to him, his charming smile and breath of relief made your heart flutter more than the anticipation of the pain of thudding against the floor had. Looking down as you steadied yourself, you muttered your annoyance.

“Oh, shit…”

Oswald had caught you in time, making sure you didn’t fall and make a complete ass of yourself as you entered the building, but when you looked down to see what you had caught yourself on, you noticed that the little clasp on the strap of your shoe had bent backwards, snagging on a loose nail in the wall.

“Aw, I really liked these.”

“Wait there, sweetheart, lemme get that.”

It took you by complete surprise as Oswald knelt on one knee on the filthy ground, tarnishing the suit pants that you were sure cost more than a month of your rent plus utilities, just to help you out. It was incredibly chivalrous, dauntingly romantic, and yet managed to be so endearing and adorable. His fingers betrayed his cool, confident exterior as they trembled when they made contact with your skin. With one hand on your ankle and the other lifting the toe of your shoe, he lifted your leg up, balancing the sole on his other knee, and began working on the buckle.

“Musta got bent when you got knocked into the wall, toots. I can fix it though, gimme a sec.”

Still shaking, with what you could only assume were nerves, Oswald bent the little piece of metal back into shape and pulled the ankle strap back through the buckle. He gazed up at you, a question on his lips, but was stopped by his inability to form a coherent sentence. From this angle, you looked… he couldn’t really find the words, not even in his own mind. There was a noise akin to a pained groan filling his head, a desperate need to scream out, which he was sure would only translate to a pitiful whine if he dared try to say anything. You stared down at him, eyes wide as you waited for him to finish, or to speak. His hands held your lower leg, palm holding onto your soft skin as he stared back up to you. From down here, you looked angelic. The ceiling lights of the dingy entrance of your building, irritating and far too bright usually, seemed like a halo, an aura of beauty surrounding you. Your thighs, your stomach, your breasts, all of them more pronounced as your leg was hitched up into them. When you smiled, a look of slight concern, he watched as your cheeks pushed into your eyes, your double chin more pronounced as you leaned back. It had him struck completely dumb. 

Trying to maintain his gentlemanly approach that he’d upheld the entire evening, he averted his eyes from your body, trying to push the thoughts of how each of those curves and soft protrusions would feel weighing down on him as he held you in bed, but for his efforts, he was only punished further. Out of the corner of his eye, and pulling his gaze in like a trap, he noticed that the way your leg was balanced on his mean that the slit of your dress was pulled wide. And from that exact angle, he could make out the front of your underwear. They covered everything, but that didn’t stop him from indulging in thoughts of a more carnal nature. How those thick, plump lips would feel around him, how soft your chubby mound would be against his nose as he dove in for a taste. 

Clearing his throat and wobbling slightly, he lowered your leg to the floor and steadied himself, cheeks red as he chastised himself for taking such a long look at what was below your dress. 

“There you go, doll. Good as new. But lemme get your size and I’ll have a new pair at your door by tomorrow, ok?”

You giggled, knowing there was no point in refusing his gesture, and took his hand as you guided him towards the stairs to your apartment. Taking it slow, so as not to rush Oswald given that his leg brace meant he was at a slightly slower natural pace than you, was actually pleasant. It meant you weren’t having to rush to pretend you could keep pace with ‘fitter’ people, and you didn’t have to hold your breath for fear of sounding like you were struggling. Everything felt right, like you were at the pace you should be at with Oswald. 

Oswald, though, was more than happy to trail behind you as you made your way up the four flights of stairs to your apartment. Sure, his leg was getting a bit sore, his knees stiffening up, but it was worth it for the view. All evening, he had managed to steal glances, sneak a little peek at your body as you leaned in to speak to him, or shifted in your chair, or leaned back in the passenger seat of his car. How your lips had closed around your fork, how your eyes instantly shot to his as he spoke to you, how your cheeks puffed up when you smiled. The way your breasts spilled ever so slightly up over the top of the dress, the way your thighs spread out on a surface, the way your stomach hung and moved as you bent over. Only brief glimpses, but he had seen so much. And now, he had a free show. 

Holding your coat in your arm, since it wasn’t needed for the brief ride home, you made your way up the steps in just your dress. The fabric clung to every curve, every protrusion of your soft form. Each stair you climbed, each move of your legs, your thighs jiggling, brushing against each other. The way your ass bounced, tightening and loosening as you stretched the muscles to carry you. By the time you both had reached your floor, he was having to try and picture some of the more horrific crime scenes he’d been a part of just to keep himself from going over the edge. If he got any stiffer, he wouldn’t be able to walk to your door.  

With great effort, and with all of the strength he could muster, he managed to suppress his cruder instincts and desires and shuffled to your door, following you through it and sitting down on the sofa when you offered him a seat. 

“Thanks, sweetheart. Beautiful place you got here, you got it lookin’ nice, real nice.”

You were hanging up both of your coats, but you turned to question his sanity, knowing that he likely had storage closets in his home that were bigger and better decorated, when you noticed that he looked a little flushed.

“You ok, Oswald? You look a little-”

“Nah, nah, I’m fine sweetheart! Just came up those stairs a little too quick is all, I’m not no spring chicken remember! And it’s hot! Or is it hot in here?”

“I haven’t had heat in here for a week, landlord is putting it off. But… I can open a window?”

Oswald nodded silently. You couldn’t help but wonder if it was making him nervous, the looming threat of having to kiss you. Or… the anticipation of kissing you? He’d come all the way up here, and you couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes fell on your body, flitting away when he thought you were about to catch him, not realising you already had. The thought alone made you blush, so you turned from him quickly, opening the window above the sink and picking up the bags from the bakery as you took a quiet breath to calm yourself.

“Dessert?”

“Thank you sweetheart, you’re a doll.”

Oswald took his donut with a smile and a gleeful sigh, and you giggled as you pulled yours from the bag. It looked amazing. He’d definitely picked right. And the way he tore into it, devouring almost half of it in one bite with a soft moan, eyes rolling back in his head, you realised how silly you had been earlier to be embarrassed in front of him. You’d only made him feel worse, clearly. Oswald had no issue making a mess of himself in front of you, and he waved his hand, encouraging you to eat, which suggested he had no issue with you making a mess either.

Having been given the permission to do so, you indulged yourself, taking a large bite of donut and with a full mouth, moaning a note of satisfaction. You savoured it on your tongue, and without intending to do so, ran your tongue seductively across your lips to ensure that nothing went to waste. But you were quick to pop it back into your mouth when you noticed Oswald gazing at you intently, his eyes unblinking. 

“It could mean anything… it could…”

But you could sense something behind the gaze, something definitely in tune with how you found yourself looking towards him over the course of the evening. Enamoured, potentially even filled with lustful thoughts as he watched you. But the intensity of his stare slowly dissipated, his lips curling up slowly into a gentle smile. The change in expression concerned you, but not enough that you didn’t smile back, finding the bravery to try and ascertain what, exactly, was on his mind.

“What’s up?”

Oswald let out a soft chuckle as he looked to you, covering his mouth as he finished the bite of donut he was working on. The laughter worried you, more than putting you at ease, and you only got more flustered as he reached for you.

“Hang, on sweetheart, you got a little something…”

“What? Oh, shoot, have I made a mess?”

You attempted to wipe at the corners of your mouth, worrying that you were making more of a fool out of yourself the longer it stayed. Taking his thumb, a sweet, mischievous smile on his face, Oswald stroked your cheek, removing the dollop of cream that had found itself there. He held his thumb out, displaying the offending smear to you. Without thinking, and in a move that still confused you even afterwards, when you had time to consider what possessed you to follow through with the action, you leaned forward and wrapped your lips around his thumb, licking the cream from it and sitting back. As soon as you had swallowed the sweet flavour on your tongue, you realised what you had done. Your cheeks flushed a bright pink almost immediately, and your eyes widened, threatening to prickle with tears as you watched Oswald stare back at you in the same silent shock. 

“Jesus christ, sweetheart.”

His face was still, mouth straight, eyes wide with disbelief. You couldn’t quite read his tone. You had to say something, anything, to fill the silence. It was too quiet, and the longer it went on, the worst it would be. So you conjured up some words of apology.

“Oh my god, Oswald, I am so sorry! It’s just…”

You weighed up the options before you, and decided to cut all your losses and try making a joke. Be yourself, be goofy, be ‘unrefined’. Be. Yourself.

“... it’s a good donut.”

He laughed, his eyes bright and his smile wide and sincere, soft and gentle, filled with genuine happiness. You were finally getting comfortable around him, and as arousing as it was to have you sucking on his finger, he found it even more tantalising knowing you were finally opening up to him.

“You got more, toots. Hold on, lemme get that. Just a second…”

He fumbled around in his pocket for a moment, pulling out a purple cotton handkerchief, monogrammed in gold, and wiping his brow on it. Sitting down on the sofa, he took a deep breath as he wiped the streak of cream from your cheek, not really listening to you as you spoke.

“Oh, you dropped something, Oswald. Let me get it.”

Bending down to reach for the small, glinting square just below the sofa, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of disappointment. 

“... lemme get that…”

You’d been so hopeful that he was going to lean in to kiss you, or, if you could really imagine something so bold, to lick the sweet, sticky mark from your flushed skin. It was beginning to feel like the intentions were never there. He might be attracted to you, you could concede to that by now, but he seemed to be far too much of a gentleman to take things further, especially on the first date.

But just as you silently prayed that there would be a second date, and a third, and, dare you dream, a fourth, your fingers tapped on the metallic wrapper under the chair, picking it up and turning it around as you brought it closer to you.

“Oh, sweetheart, I am… so sorry. You can just give that here.”

Your heart skipped a beat, enough that you found yourself struggling for a breath. Between your fingers, with Oswald reaching for it desperately, you held a condom. It wasn’t exactly a definitive symbol of intent, but it was enough to give you hope. You never imagined that the glint of the golden wrapper could have aroused you so quickly, but it had. And as Oswald took it from you, you found yourself smiling slightly in return to his nervous grin. 

“I didn’t mean anything by that, toots… I am so sorry, really.”

“You didn’t mean anything by that?”

Stuttering, letting you see him truly nervous for the first time that evening, he tried to respond.

“Well, uh… n-not nothin’, kid. I mean, it’s there, isn’t it. It was in my pocket. I’m not exactly the kind of guy who walks around with one ‘just in case’.”

“So there was… intent?”

So bold, but so nervous, and yet you kept prodding him for more information. The way his cheeks and nose had begun to turn pink let you feel an ounce of control, like you were finally able to take charge. 

“So… a gentleman like you doesn’t carry them around for nothing, but he’s smart enough to be prepared on the off chance…?”

You spoke so softly, so slowly, sultry and sweet, enough that Oswald’s smile began to spread out, realising that you weren’t put off by his little faux pas. Regaining his composure, he returned to his usual, composed self and shuffled forward on the sofa towards you. 

“I do like to plan for every eventuality. I go out on a date with a beautiful dame, I don’t expect anything in return. But I’d be damned if I showed up to your place and had to turn down any opportunity.”

Your own confidence was dwindling, if only slightly, and you broke the facade of the flirtatious tease to beg for some reassurance, as subtly as you could.

“And… you hoped for an opportunity… with me?”

You hadn’t known Oswald for very long, but it felt like he could read you like a book. He clapped his hand over his mouth and drew it down, shaking his head as he looked over your body.

“Are you kidding, toots?”

“I guess… I just wasn’t sure if I’d be what you… expected… or wanted…”

“We lookin’ at the same thing here? You think I wasn’t hoping for even just a chance? With that face? And those legs?And that ass? And that sweet, cushiony stomach you got? All wrapped in that fuckin’ dress? Oh, ho, ho, don’t ven get me started on the dress.”

Finally believing that Oswald had consciously and willingly chosen you, you decided to take what you wanted, or at least, ask for it nicely. 

“Actually… I think I would like to get you started.”

With a coy smile, you batted your eyelashes at him, and he moved forward to the edge of the sofa, his hands lifting yours from your sides and kissing the knuckles. 

“I’m glad you wore it. I didn’t wanna make a big deal outta it, felt like I was being controlling or something… And I knew if I told you how good it looked on you, I just wouldn’t stop. Wouldn’t have been right for me to spend an hour of our date telling you how I liked the way the fabric hung on you…”

He pulled you closer, tugging on your hands, lifting them again and turning them over to kiss your wrists. One placed on each one, a shiver coursing through your veins.

“... how each little curve, each bit of you is highlighted, teasing me, begging me to run my hands over them and feel them…”

Oswald’s hands skimmed over the ridges and curves of your sides, palms pressing into each of the outward bulges of soft flesh as he moaned in appreciation. The sounds he made were muffled by your neck, where his lips were held in a flurry of passionate kisses, his tongue lapping over your skin as he tasted you, savoured you. Each pause to catch his breath he spent whispering his intentions and desires for the evening.

“... how warm you look, how you would feel…”

His hands moved around to your lower back, fingers hovering there before he let them slip down, palms over your cheeks, cupping at your rear. He pulled you slightly, knocking you off balance, stumbling and almost falling onto him, your breasts making contact with his face before you steadied yourself. But Ozzie leant forward, placing his prominent, distinct nose between your breasts, then his cheeks, moaning and sighing as the soft, gentle and ample tissue that comforted him. 

The haze of arousal came over you, your body no longer being controlled by your overthinking brain, your desires free to rule, and your hands found his thick thighs, travelling up them until your fingers struck the metal of his belt buckle, quickly, but not effectively. Taking his hands from you, Oswald lifted yours from him, unbuckling the belt on his own. His eyes flitted up to meet yours as he unzipped his fly, eyebrows raising in a question. You answered with a smile and a subtle nod, trying to decide whether it would be polite to watch or look away, but found your eyes trained to the spot. Breath hitching. Mouth falling open ever so slightly as he took his cock out, average in length, but thick, already stiff in his hand. 

Ozzie’s hands were back on you, his fingers tickling at the back of your thigh, gently edging you closer to him, pushing up the skirt of your dress, exposing more of your skin. Under the fabric, his thumb hooked onto the waistband of your underwear, teasing your panties down as he chuckled, lustfully. 

“You wanna take a seat, let me see if you feel how I thought?”

Usually, you’d worry about the position, the weight, the worry that you wouldn’t look good in position, that having someone look up at you would only highlight your double chin. But, strangely enough, not only did you not care when those thoughts quickly entered your conscience, you got excited over them, the notion that your body would be there, viewed, and worshipped by Oswald Cobblepot, of all people. 

As you began to lower yourself down, he motioned for you to pause for a moment, reaching to the other side of the sofa and picking up the condom. He pursed his lips as he rolled it down over his thick length, leaning back as you eased down onto it. The moment it touched against your lips, filling you, inch by inch, until your thighs were settled against his. 

Straddling him, you felt his hands cupping at your thighs, caressing down your back, gently grabbing at you to pull you closer and assist in your movements. He couldn’t settle on a place to touch you, his hands taking in every inch of your body, fingers digging into your thighs and moving to your hips to cling to you, moving you back and forth as you rocked yourself on his cock. Each motion felt better than anything had before, each soft groan he made, the way his lips curled into a snarling grin with pleasure sending you further into ecstasy. 

His hands travelled to the nape of your neck, curving round your shoulders and peeling at the thin straps of the dress, watching the silk fabric slip down over your chest, eventually exposing your breasts to him. With no effort to hold back his boyish glee, he threw his head back and moaned.

“Mother of god you look fuckin’ fantastic!”

While you rolled your hips forwards and backwards, relishing in the feeling of his cock twitching inside of you, Oswald’s large fingers pinched each of your nipples, teasing at them as he licked his lips, delighting in the way it made you whine, biting down on your lower lip, your smile still visible.

The movements between you were frantic, reaching the apex of the heated moment you were sharing. As the climax approached, you felt Oswald move his hand from you, bringing it down in a swift, sharp cracking motion against your upper thigh, his fingers settling on your rear as he gripped and winked.

“You think you can get a little bit faster, toots? A bit dirtier to see me through?”

By the time he was finished speaking you were already rutting into him, animalistic as you determined to give him what he wanted. He was hardly a gentleman now, as he smacked your ass, jutting his hips upwards, pumping his length inside of you as he wailed out.

“That’s it, baby… good girl, good girl, god, you’re such a good girl for me, huh? Oh yeah… fuck… fuck!”

He pulled you onto his chest, still inside of you as he thrust his hips up, firmly, but slowly, letting your top half rest against him as you felt him cumming, then relaxing, holding you on him, still inside of you. You had no intentions of moving, until he decided it was uncomfortable. You were content to be balanced precariously on his body, your toes pushing you up from the floor, face resting against his still clothed chest, listening to him hum in satisfaction as he caught his breath. 

Letting out a soft chuckle, he leaned down to kiss your head, stroking your hair as he settled back down flat. 

“Every eventuality, kid. As if this wasn’t what I wanted all along.”

[baby-xemnas]

everyone who said "i wanna write them" be stunning and brave and actually do it

(but u have to want it yourself, forced work is unlikely to be good)

one day my preferred positions for them will be written by somebody with this much care and love....i have to believe

[goldengleams]

Can you do a “things that make sense as a boyfriend” for jack please?? :)

here you go!!!

jack is definitely a softie

like he won’t admit it or ask to cuddle you but if you’re laying down in bed or on the couch he will for sure be laying right on your boobs

lowkey not great at texting back but he knows this so he tries to leave you little love notes around the house every once in a while to make up for it

isn’t a huge fan of pda but will always, always have a hand on your back at all times

also loves to walk like, directly next to you

like you’ll be out on a walk and jack is just…in your space

“j, move over, im tripping over you.”

“trippin, stumblin,”

“im literally going to shove you off the curb!”

jack is private but not shy

but it does take a while for him to introduce you to the fam because he’s nervous about the attention

but to combat this…

i feel like jack would pay attention to the videos you watch and where you’ve said you want to travel

“babe, wake up!”

“jack, it’s 7 in the morning, go back to bed!”

“fine, but if you want to get up, we can get on a flight to your favorite beach by noon.”

“…”

“you’re insane. but also yes, i am up.”

spontaneous when he has time!!

will always be down to try out new restaurants or walk around in nyc

im gonna go with you living in nyc/nj because i see jack with a city girl

you’re always teasing him about not knowing how to drive and always ordering rides instead of taking the subway

jack isn’t overly protective but he definitely wants to make sure you get home safe every night

oh to add onto the city thing

jack would 100% go do all of the christmas stuff with you

like he’s beaming when he sees your eyes light up at the sights of the busiest city around the holidays

mans lives to make you smile

definitely competitive

like is obsessed with watching sports and playing against you in fantasy football

already has stupid shit planned for you because he’s determined that you’re going to lose

“im only losing because you and luke were scheming against me!”

“better luck next time baby!”

not good at cooking but does like to bake with you

(side note: will literally never admit to anyone that he enjoys watching the great british baking show with you. never)

easygoing, so fights don’t happen that much

but he will get snippy with you around the beginning of the season

and if he’s hurt…

“jack, im just trying to help you, you put yourself in more pain trying to put your shirt on alone.”

“I don’t want help, ive got it. go away.”

will be the first one to apologize after a fight

gets emotional over you because jack cares about you a lot, just sometimes isn’t the best at communication

but once you guys talk he is smothering you in a big hug and wiping your tears away

ellen taught this man well obviously

lets you say what he wasn’t ready to hear before and like actually understands you

“I love you, always will.”

“love you too, j.”

Just a few thoughts for you!! Send in some more requests and I’ll try to do them in between my finals!!

[milquetoast27]

The Emotional Reticence of Holmes and Watson

Sherlock Holmes and John Watson, two shy Victorian men, maneuver their vulnerable feelings of affection for one another in an expertly flawed and human manner crafted by Arthur Conan Doyle. First and foremost, I am examining their use of "my dear Watson" (91 times in the canon) and "my dear Holmes" (14 times).

The first time Holmes ever uses "my dear Watson" in the canon, it's actually in a rather sarcastic tone.

"What is your theory, then, as to those footmarks?" I asked, eagerly, when we had regained the lower room once more. "My dear Watson, try a little analysis yourself," said he, with a touch of impatience. "You know my methods. Apply them, and it will be instructive to compare results." (SIGN)

Note: for The Great Game, this absolutely isn't the first time Holmes has used this phrase, but from the narrative perspective, it is absolutely the first time Conan Doyle put this phrase to paper, which is more relevant to this examination.

Holmes uses this phrase with a touch of exasperation, which even in itself holds some love within it as he encourages his friend to utilise his own beloved methods. And even in this first instance, while Holmes's tone indicates some displeasure, the personal address ensures that it isn't a genuine blow. But the intimacy of "my dear" is quite daunting, isn't it? so Holmes utilises the veil of sarcasm to break the barrier, in the spirit of "look, I've said it now. Now I may go and say it as much as I want."

Oh, and he does. The frequency of 'my dear Watson' slowly builds through the canon and peaks through FINA, HOUN and EMPT. It isn't surprising, considering they hold some of the most critical points in their relationship.

• "My dear Watson, you were born to be a man of action." (HOUN) • "Not for the world, my dear Watson. I am perfectly satisfied with your company if you will tolerate mine." (HOUN) • "Then these are your instructions, and I beg, my dear Watson, that you will obey them to the letter." (FINA) • "My dear Watson, I owe you a thousand apologies. I had no idea that you would be so affected." (EMPT)

It is evident, that it is after this barrier is broken in SIGN, that Holmes feels comfortable to use this address in such a sincere manner. In fact, it is apparent that it is in particularly emotional circumstances that Holmes is more likely to call for Watson through any means at all.

So, how about Watson?

His use of "my dear Holmes" is almost exclusively out of shock or surprise whenever his 'Johnson' claims anything particularly outré. Again, while Watson is in disbelief, and most probably doubtful of Holmes's claims, the personal address softens this blow to say that no real harm is done between them.

• "My dear Holmes," said I, "this is too much." (SCAN) • "My dear Holmes!" "Oh, yes, I did." (SPEC)

The first real instance of Watson using this phrase sincerely is in FINA.

"You are afraid of something?" I asked. "Well, I am." "Of what?" "Of air-guns." "My dear Holmes, what do you mean?"

Holmes is acting more than out of the ordinary to put Watson in some kind of concern and this question comes no doubt more from worry than simple surprise. He even asks again, "but what does it all mean?" which highlights his wish to be by Holmes's side, even in danger.

The first and only instance of a good-hearted affectionate address comes to Holmes in HOUN. However, interestingly, it is only through the written word, in Watson's letters to Holmes from Dartmoor.

• Congratulate me, my dear Holmes, and tell me that I have not disappointed you as an agent. • Such are the adventures of last night, and you must acknowledge, my dear Holmes, that I have done you very well in the matter of a report.

Watson's method of breaking the barrier is to send it remotely through his pen, which is, after all, much less daunting than saying it directly. It is absolutely worth noting that Watson has also used this language when specifically wishing for praise - it shows us that he feels the closest to Holmes when he is able to follow his own methods.

Conan Doyle shows us the ways insecurities and pressures can collaborate with our most earnest and deepest affections. Holmes and Watson aren't perfect beings, but navigate through their web of reticence and inner desires to find an unspoken but profound dialogue between them.

[simpinghour]

Shigaraki as your plug 🍃🌱

Shigaraki x reader, Mentions of oral sex, squirting, orgasm, weed

So before you get into this, I want to say that I am so sorry I've not been able to post. I am completely disabled. I'm smoking day and night bc gabapentin doesnt do shit for pain and I cant function any other way.

With that said, I used the voice to text to write most of this but it's still hell on my hands bc I had to use my laptop to edit and my hands are why Im disable. theyre numb as shit as i type this and i gott be up in four hours to go to the ss office.

but im high and is horny hours so here you go, Shigaraki x reader, Mentions of oral sex, squirting, orgasm, weed

Shigaraki is a creepy sort of dude, there's no denying it. But there was something about him that you liked all the same.

Then came the day where some drunk dude thought nothing of shoving his hand up your skirt and groping you at the cub.

By the time Shigaraki was done with the guy, he’d been left cowering in the alley with a broken hand and a busted nose.

He gained more of your respect after that.

It doesn’t hurt that he always is willing to give you free weed. But he always wants to linger at your place for longer than is needed for a regular drop off.

You’ve long suspected that he has a thing for you. Today you’re absolutely sure he does. He brought you some new strain that everyone has been raving about. You have Darkwave playing on low and you’re both reclined on your bed. Shigaraki’s hair tickles your bare calf and his fingers have been suspiciously inching closer and closer to the hem of your shorts.

“Do girls like it when you go down on them?” He asks, completely out of the blue.

Normally you’d be shocked, but the weed he brought has you literally locked into place among your mountain of pillows and squishes. Plus the vibe of the synths in your ear, the fairie lights strung among the floral garland in your room and the sweet sandalwood incense mingled with the dank weed is a delight for the senses.

“Some do,” you reply airily. “And some don’t. I understand why though; it’s only good when you have someone who knows what they’re doing and if not, they’re willing to learn.”

“Ah,” he replies in that oddly rough voice of his. His dry fingers are rubbing along the top of your thigh with more vigor now and you can hear Shigaraki swallowing hard.

“Does that mean you’re willing to teach?” He asks.

“Does that mean you’re willing to leave?”

“Yeah.”

You unceremoniously shift around to kneel up in bed and slip out your shorts and panties. They’re tossed to the floor and you grab a pillow, arrange it so you’ll be comfortable and lie down.

Shigaraki is staring at the entire scene unfold and there’s a strange glimmer in his red eyes. Your pussy has already begun throbbing as it’s been a while since you’ve had any action and you suspect that you’re dripping onto the sheets already.

Shigaraki isn’t even shy— he immediately slides flat onto his belly, slips both arms beneath your thighs and plants a hot, wet mouth directly upon you.

You don’t know if it’s beginner’s luck or what, but he suspiciously finds your clit with deft precision and somehow knows to warm it up gently with the flat of his tongue before aggressively sucking and licking away.

You’re secretly ashamed to admit how much you want to moan by the idea of letting your creepy plug eat your pussy like it’s dessert and do a damn good job.

And then Shigaraki sucks the underside of your clit in a way that forces a yelp out of you. It’s not long before shame leaves your body the way water escapes a popped balloon.

You barely recognize your own voice when you tell him to use his fingers but not go too deep. You’re sure the bastard is smirking the way he inserts two fingertips inside and nudges them juuust right into your g-spot, but you can’t tell because the sensation send a jolt so fierce throughout your entire body and now you’re clutching onto your pillow with both eyes squeezed shut.

Shigaraki seems to know he’s got you where he wants you, because your thighs are easily coaxed up into the air.

Between the perfect fingerwork combined with the perfect lips and tonguework on your now engorged clit, your orgasm hits you faster than you can anticipate. One moment you were sucking in air, trying to cope with the floaty sensation of being high combined with the hot, wet nasty feeling of someone’s open mouth completely engulfing your genitals without it hurting, and the next you were screaming Shigaraki’s name combined with incoherent gibberish as your pussy spasmed and spurted around his long, thick fingers.!

Eventually you realized Shigaraki had turned on the fan and lay back down next to you, in the same before when his soft blue hair brushed against your calf.

He kept going until you begged him to stop, and the only thing you could register was the soaked sheets beneath your ass and the way your body continued to tremble.

[queenshelby]

Daddy Issues (Part Four)

Pairing: Dominant!Cillian Murphy & Shy!Reader (& Jamie Dornan)

Warning: Smut, BDSM, Daddy Kink, 4-Somes, 3-Somes, Sugar Baby Arrangements

Summary: Through your best friend, you meet actor Cillian Murphy and come to some kind of arrangement involving intimacy in exchange for being spoiled financially.

Written with: my beautiful wife @darkshelbyfiction

Your PoV

At around eight o'clock in the morning, you woke from your slumber feeling refreshed and pleasantly worn out. It appeared that the entire night's events had left quite an impression on you. In fact, just recalling the events brought forth surges of excitement which you had never felt before. 

The memory of having heated intercourse with Cillian in particular induced goosebumps, sending shivers along your flesh, making you wonder what the day ahead might bring.

When you stumbled into the living room however, only Emma could be found while Jamie had already left in order to go for his usual morning run.

Meeting your eyes, Emma began speaking immediately. "So, did you sleep alright?" She asked kindly, showing genuine concern.

"Yeah, surprisingly enough," you admitted honestly, thinking back to the incredible experiences you had just undergone.

"Cillian did not stay. He never does," Emma explained quietly, running her hands through her messy curls, wondering whether you were upset by how things had ended last night, namely with him leaving. 

"I don't blame him. I hate sleeping in the same bed with strangers anyway," you told Emma lightheartedly, immediately sensing her relief.

"Really? Because I absolutely love staying in the same bed with Jamie. He is surprisingly cuddly," Emma laughed before querying directly how you felt about last night's events.

"Do you have regrets? About last night?" Emma asked, searching your eyes earnestly. There was something unspoken lingering between you two, a bond formed amidst shared experience.

She needed to understand where you stood, emotionally and, much to her surprise, you smiled slightly and leaned closer to her, taking her hand into yours.

"Not really. If I regret anything, it's that our little tryst didn't happen sooner. It was fun and I feel surprisingly comfortable with what happened between the four of us," you confessed casually, raising your eyebrows playfully. "Maybe even too comfortable," you added and, immediately, Emma grinned widely as she stretched herself comfortably.

"I am so glad because I honestly thought I went too far. I never intended to push you into anything like this, knowing how reluctant you usually are when it comes to intimacy," Emma expressed sincerely, cupping your cheek affectionately. Her honesty touched you deeply, and it struck you that perhaps your friendship hadn't changed irreparably due to all the strange occurrences lately.

"No, I didn't feel pushed into anything, Em. We are all good, alright?" you said reassuringly, giving her a gentle smile. You then continued, "I am curious though, Jamie did not appear to be as dominant as I had expected. Is he usually this timid?" 

 Glancing away for a second, Emma responded hesitatingly, "He can be dominant, but most of the time, he prefers to let me lead..." She trailed off, seemingly unsure whether she should continue discussing this or not. 

Feeling somewhat confused, you pressed further, asking "But why is he so generous then? What is his deal if control is not what he is after?" Your expression grew increasingly perplexed as you tried to piece together your understanding of Jamie's behavior.

 Emma shrugged slightly, choosing her words carefully before answering. "Well, think about it like this - a man like him might get bored easily and there is always a risk, considering that he is somewhat famous. He wants security, but without any feelings or strings attached. He has a high libido that needs to be satisfied. He is really into adventurous sex, but he is not Christian Grey. He does not like to exercise dominance. All he wants is to have fun with someone he can trust," Emma explained. 

Your brow furrowed in thought, processing the idea as you mulled it over.  Then you contemplated, "But when he is done with that, doesn't that mean he may stop supporting you sometime, once he wants something more serious with someone else?" These questions seemed pertinent given the circumstances. But Emma, ever resourceful, had answers prepared.

"It's true, Jamie may not stick around forever. However, I believe it's more beneficial for me than harmful," she asserted firmly. "He gives me everything I need right now, and once I'm ready to leave him behind, I will. Until then, it works perfectly for both of us," Emma defended fervently, a stubborn glint in her eye. It occurred to you then that despite Jamie's apparent lack of commitment, his support provided stability and security for Emma during her financial struggle at university.

Perhaps Jamie saw something in Emma beyond mere sexual attraction; something deeper that kept him interested. Maybe it was trust and security that he was after, just like Emma had suggested. Or maybe, he simply enjoyed being able to provide such benefits to someone in return for the pleasure she gave him.

Regardless, your curiosity was piqued about this kind of arrangement, one based solely upon mutual satisfaction and desires. As you delved deeper into conversation with Emma, your initial confusion gradually dissipated, replaced instead by fascination.

"You know, Cillian might be looking for something similar to what Jamie and I have in place, some form of temporary companionship rather than romantic attachment. He just separated from his wife and with this new movie coming out, he is reluctant to continue his usual behavior," Emma pondered pensively, drawing you into the nuances of these unusual arrangements before suggesting that this may be an option for you.

Her proposal was unexpected but certainly interesting. While you initially dismissed the notion, deep down, a part of you couldn't help but entertain the possibility of exploring such an arrangement yourself, especially after witnessing firsthand the dynamic between Jamie and Emma. This type of setup, founded entirely on fulfilling needs and mutual desire, appealed to you tremendously.

But then again, Cillian was much older than you. He had experience and you could not match this experience. He also had a reputation of being a womanizer and you read about several cheating scandals in the past. He was clearly sleeping around and the last thing you wanted was to be one of many. 

"I don't think so, Em. Cillian is extremely gorgeous, but he is not the kind of guy I should get myself involved with. Besides, he's way older than me," you replied, attempting to dispel the suggestion gently. Emma raised an eyebrow at your comment, acknowledging your reservations about age differences, although her gaze suggested a hint of intrigue.

"You are right. Maybe he isn't for you. He is into some kinky shit too. At least so I've heard," Emma murmured suggestively, flashing a devilish smile that made you raise an eyebrow in response.

You couldn't deny that you had always been curious about experimenting with different aspects of intimacy, pushing boundaries and exploring limits. Was it possible that this was just another opportunity presenting itself to indulge those curiosities?

"What kind of kinky shit are you talking about? I mean, we just had a foursome, and I don't think it can get any kinkier than that," you joked, feigning disinterest. But inside, you knew you weren't telling the truth. You secretly craved more intense thrills, more deviant experiences. Deep down, a small voice whispered seductively, tempting you to consider the possibilities that lay beyond vanilla. Yet, you remained hesitant – partly due to fear, partly due to uncertainty regarding the path laid before you.

"Well, apparently Cillian actually likes some elements of bondage and discipline", Emma divulged nonchalantly, smirking teasingly as she awaited your reaction. "Maybe he should have played Christian Grey instead," she then mused, referencing Fifty Shades of Grey again. 

"How do you even know this stuff?" you asked Emma, clearly caught off guard by this revelation. Emma smiled mysteriously, crossing her legs provocatively as she spoke.

"It came up a few weeks ago when we had this threesome. Jamie mentioned it in passing," Emma giggled softly and your face flushed red instantly, unable to hide your embarrassment or curiosity. Clearly, this topic aroused you greatly, but you did not want to admit this to your friend.

"So, he likes to be the dominant then, I assume? Is that what you call it?" you ventured hesitantly, intrigued yet still apprehensive.

Emma nodded affirmatively, adding with mischievous excitement, "Yes! And trust me, there is no better feeling than knowing exactly what you want and getting it. He was being gentle with you. He was much more dominant when the three of us...you know...never mind...," Emma trailed off but you would not let loose.

"Well, I am not you, obviously.  He was probably cautious, seeing that I was really nervous," you said with blushing cheeks, and Emma went on to explain that, in other aspects of life, Cillian was rather timid.

"He is a nice, caring and somewhat gentle guy, who seems to like rough sex," Emma said with a mix of admiration and amusement, as though recounting a personal experience. Your head spun with thoughts as you processed the information she had revealed. Intrigued by the prospect of engaging in a more liberating, uninhibited form of sexual encounter, you found yourself questioning whether you were truly capable of embracing such a radical shift in your usual approach to sex. You wanted to be more open to your needs, but could you?

"Interesting. Well, I am sure there are many suitable women for this kind of power exchange. But, I am not one of them," you determined in the end, finally voicing your inner concerns.

"Are you sure? Because, I could see how attracted you felt towards him, and you are clearly asking a lot of questions. That alone tells me that this might indeed be worth considering. Everyone starts somewhere Y/N," she encouraged gently, her tone persuasive and compelling.

As she spoke, images of your steamy encounters danced through your mind, leaving you yearning for more intensity and eroticism. How would you react in such a situation?

Would you dare take the leap? Your imagination raced ahead, visualising every detail of such a forbidden scenario vividly. You felt your heart race, pounding loudly within your chest. You looked towards Emma inquiringly, seeking confirmation and guidance. She studied your face closely, reading your thoughts accurately. With a sigh, she acknowledged your internal turmoil, saying quietly, "Of course, only you can decide what is right for you." Emma's calm demeanor served as a reminder that ultimately, the choice rested squarely upon your shoulders.

After all, it wasn't as if you hadn't fantasized about this kind of liaison before. The difference was merely the scale of risk associated with it, compared to the rewards it offered.

The thought sent waves of heat coursing through your body, causing goosebumps to rise along your skin and, yet, you declined the notion to engage in something like this. 

You realized that perhaps you were not quite ready for this change just yet and, with that, you were determined not to take Cillian up on his offer on catching up with him again.

Cillian’s PoV

Meanwhile, after his morning run, Jamie caught up with Cillian at his hotel where, in the neat little coffee shop downstairs, they exchanged some lighthearted banter.

"So, did you have fun with Y/N last night?" Jamie asked casually, sipping his espresso.

"Yes. She is rather cute and we managed to find our rhythm pretty quickly," Cillian responded, equally casual in mannerisms, albeit with a touch of melancholy evident beneath his exterior composure. His fingers traced absentmindedly across the rim of his cup.

Jamie observed Cillian closely, picking up subtle cues which indicated that, perhaps, Cillian wanted to see you again after last night's encounter. 

"Are you going to see her again? You seemed to get on quite well," Jamie probed further, raising a brow quizzically. Cillian considered the question for a moment while thinking about how shy and inexperienced you were.

"We did get on, but she is quite young and inexperienced so it might be a waste of time," Cillian mulled out loud, his gaze far away, likely contemplating memories of the sensuous encounter he shared with you earlier that evening.

Jamie noticed the introspective look on Cillian's face and decided to leave him with his thoughts. After a brief pause, he changed the subject abruptly, hoping to redirect the discussion.

"Hey, speaking of time, let's grab dinner tonight, shall we? It's been ages since we caught up properly, without women being involved," Jamie proposed cheerfully, breaking the heavy silence that hung thickly around them.

Cillian glanced at Jamie briefly, acknowledging the suggestion with a slight nod.

Despite the camaraderie among themselves, both men understood perfectly well why they sought solace in casual affairs and no-strings-attached hookups - it allowed them to temporarily escape the monotony of daily routines. They knew how fleeting pleasures could provide much needed respite amidst hectic schedules.

***

Over dinner, Jamie and Cillian discussed their respective lives, ranging from acting projects to failed romances. Their rapport was effortless, built on honesty and understanding.

Despite the surface conversation about work and women, Jamie picked up on undercurrents of dissatisfaction swirling beneath Cillian’s placid exterior that day.

Cillian was about to divorce his second wife, who was an actress as well but was tired of living in his shadow. He had grown weary of the superficiality that accompanied stardom while she indulged on it whenever she could. As he continued drinking, Jamie noted Cillian's solemn state and wondered what demons haunted him behind closed doors these days. 

He appeared drained – not just physically, but emotionally too. There was an air of vulnerability about him that piqued Jamie's interest even more. It occurred to Jamie that Cillian was essentially similar to himself, searching for true fulfillment amidst an empty world full of deceiving facades. 

Without warning, Cillian began discussing his marriage and its eventual end. As he narrated tales of his failing relationship, his hands moved nervously across the table, giving the impression that his thoughts were almost tangible.

“She’s so… demanding,” he uttered with a hint of bitterness in his voice. “Always wanting attention, accolades, and constant validation.”

"And just an hour ago, she sent me a text. She now does not want to go through with the divorce, claiming that 'we need to try harder'. What's left to try?!" exclaimed Cillian bitterly, slumping back into his chair. This latest development added fuel to his frustration, making the already volatile mixture inside him reach boiling point.

There was a palpable sense of despair and exhaustion hanging heavily in the room as Jamie listened intently, offering nothing more than comforting silence. He recognized these feelings well, having grappled with them countless times during his own tumultuous past relationship. Jamie too was divorced, and this is why this arrangement with Emma came as solace to him as he could be himself without judgment from her.

Having been in this situation himself, Jamie could relate to Cillian's predicament because he experienced it firsthand. It took him several months of therapy post his split with his wife, but eventually, he emerged stronger – wiser. Now, his priorities revolved mainly around his career and maintaining a healthy balance between his personal needs and work.

"You need to find a balance man," Jamie thus suggested earnestly, hoping his advice resonates with Cillian.

"And how will I do that?" Cillian questioned, genuine curiosity lacing his words.

"By focusing less on other people and instead turning inward, examining what brings you joy or contentment. You do not need to make everyone else happy. You just need to look after yourself for now. It may sound cliché, but discovering your own needs can sometimes be the most difficult task," Jamie advised earnestly, knowing that self-exploration isn't always easy.

Cillian mulled over Jamie's advice, reflecting deeply on it. He appreciated Jamie's sincerity, but the truth remained that achieving equilibrium required more than just insightful counsel. One must also possess courage to actively pursue personal happiness. Despite feeling exhausted, a spark of hope flickered within him as he grasped onto the potential of redefining his life.

Meanwhile, outside the restaurant, the streets bustled with people hurrying home from work. Neon signs advertised trendy bars, flashing enticing invitations to indulge in late-night escapades. Jamie stood up from the table, signaling the end of their evening, but suggesting a drink at a local bar named "Soho". 

"Let's go and have a few pints before calling it a day," said Jamie gesturing towards the exit.

"Alright, where to?" Cillian enquired, his tone teetering between amusement and weariness.

"Just follow my lead," Jamie replied with a grin, taking charge. Leading the way towards Soho, he guided his mate through crowded streets filled with pubs, restaurants, and colorful storefronts. Everywhere, there was music blaring from clubs and pubs, adding to the vibrant atmosphere. People passed by them in a blur, seemingly lost in their own adventures.

***

With a familiar ease, they entered the dimly lit Soho bar. Dimmed lights cast warm, alluring shadows upon the walls, creating an ambiance perfect for anyone's mood.

Unbeknownst to Cillian, both you and Emma worked at Soho as part-time employees due to your close connections with the bar's owner, Michelle.

Michelle was a woman in her thirties who, just like you and Emma, attended law school during the day. 

Unlike you, however, she was rather wealthy after having inherited a good fortune from her late father, allowing her to own and operate various establishments throughout London. This included "Soho", which was one of her favorite spots. The bar held sentimental value for her, serving as an oasis where she found solitude amidst the bustling city. 

The pair settled into comfortable chairs near the bar counter, surveying the cozy yet lively interior decorated with exposed brick walls, antique mirrors, and tasteful light fixtures casting a soft glow on patrons.

"Couldn't stay away, could you?" Emma asked Jamie after she had spotted him while, all at the same time, you dropped your utensils when Cillian came into view. For some reason, you had not expected to see him again, but here he was, at your work, having a few drinks with Jamie. 

"No, I couldn't," Jamie teased without showing her genuine affection in public. For what Michelle and the other waitresses knew, Emma was nothing but an acquaintance to Jamie Dornan and, ironically enough, most of them wanted her to introduce them to the famous actor. 

Jamie and Cillian ordered a couple of bottles of beer, taking a seat against the wall. Tired from the evening's events, they sank deep into their seats, watching the crowd move restlessly around them.

Cillian occasionally glanced over towards you, unable to help stealing subtle peeks every once in a while. His gaze then drifted towards the bar, where rows of whiskey glasses gleamed seductively under the low lights.

"Stop starring at her. You are making her nervous, "Jamie joked as he noticed Cillian's frequent glances toward you. 

"I am not starring!" Cillian defensively responded, sipping his beer and averting his eyes.

"You are. But that's okay. After all, you got to fuck her last night. Just calm down and let her work though, alright?" Jamie said, smirking playfully.

Cillian hesitated slightly, trying to suppress his growing desire. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, avoiding eye contact with you before realizing that hiding his attraction would only become increasingly challenging as the night wore on and the drinks kept flowing. 

"Look, let's call it a night soon," Cillian finally spoke up, breaking the heavy silence that had fallen upon them. "These drinks are starting to get to us anyway," he pointed out just as Emma knocked off and walked over towards their table with a drink in her hand. 

"True," agreed Jamie, nodding along, though a faint smile played on his lips. "Do you want to come to my place? I am sure Emma would like you to join us again," Jamie invited Cillian with a slight pause. 

"Not tonight. I need to catch up on some sleep before my interviews tomorrow," Cillian declined, his eyes betraying a twinge of reluctance while Emma suggested that, at the very least, he should finish his last bottle of beer.

"Sounds like a plan," Cillian conceded, his focus returning to his half-empty bottle while you, too, finished up your shift and joined the trio.

"Hello strangers! How are we feeling tonight?" you asked casually, placing two extra bottles of beer on the table - much to the delight of Jamie who was not yet ready to leave.

Cillian, on the other hand, was yawning and you too were exhausted from your long shift.

After a while and some more conversation between the four of you, you decided to finally excuse yourself and head back to your flat since it was getting quite late. 

"How are you getting home?" Cillian enquired as you made plans to depart, alone.

"I parked out the back. I don't like taking the tube at night on my own," you answered nonchalantly and, much to your surprise, he seemed relieved.

"That makes sense," acknowledged Cillian as he drained the remainder of his drink. "I will walk you to your car and then head off myself, alright?" he suggested to which you nodded agreeably. 

***

As Cillian accompanied you to your car, the night air felt fresh despite the humid summer heat while his body itself was radiating warmth. There was something incredibly attractive about him which intrigued you and he was aware of your attraction too, evident in the way he looked at you — those intense blue eyes burning brightly even under the streetlights, the curve of his mouth hinting at something far beyond simple friendliness.

Yet, you didn't dare say anything. Instead, you chose to walk alongside him silently, cherishing these fleeting moments together, unsure if they would ever happen again after you had already made up your mind not to call him following last night's encounter. 

As you approached your car, however, everything else came to a standstill.

"So, um..." you stammered. "How are you getting back to your hotel? Do you need a lift?" you offered politely, suddenly finding yourself wishing to prolong your unexpected reunion.

Cillian looked surprised but grateful as he accepted your offer without hesitation. 

"That would be grand, thank you," he expressed, reaching for the door handle to open yours for you before walking towards the passenger side of the car and taking a seat next to you.

Your hands trembled slightly as you tried inserting the key into the ignition slot. This small gesture of kindness brought forth so many mixed feelings.

Embarrassment quickly flooded your face, turning redder than usual. Trying hard to regain composure, you attempted to start the engine of your car but your efforts were futile. The car would not start. 

"God dammit," you cursed, hitting the dashboard lightly with frustration. Cillian simply watched, observing how your cheeks flushed deeper with embarrassment as you struggled with the malfunctioning engine before speaking up.

"Don't worry about it. Let me call roadside assistance. They are usually pretty quick in London," he said with a gentle tone while tears started forming in your eyes from pure exhaustion, relief, and vulnerability. It dawned on you – no matter how much you desired to forget your meeting with him, fate conspired otherwise in the most irritating way possible. 

"No don't. I can't...." you began to say, panicking and desperately hoping that he wouldn't notice how utterly disheveled you truly were beneath your professional exterior. "But thanks. I appreciate it." 

"Y/N, you can't just leave the car here. You will get fined if you do," Cillian stated firmly while watching you lose your mind. "It's alright. It's not a big deal. We will just make the call and they will come out and probably replace the battery. I will wait with you. It's all good," Cillian confidently declared, trying to calm you down but you kept shaking your head.

"I can't afford it. It will cost at least a few hundred pounds," you explained with a defeated voice, looking away as Cillian raised an eyebrow, sensing your less than fortunate situation.

He moved closer, offering a sympathetic grimace. "Don't stress, Y/N. I can pay for it," Cillian assured you gently, reaching for his phone and dialing the emergency number as you continued to argue with yourself mentally, debating whether accepting his generosity might compromise your independence. 

"No, I can't accept this, really. Thank you, though. Seriously," you pleaded; however, your pleading fell on deaf ears as he put on his best persuasion tactics.

"Y/N, please. Let me take care of this. Trust me, you can't leave the car here. You will get fined more than the battery would cost, especially if you get towed overnight," he told you and, with little room left for refusal, you caved in, feeling torn apart inside. Despite wanting to maintain your distance from him, there was still something undeniable about the man. Perhaps it was his raw charm, captivating presence, or his sincerity.

"I will pay you back when I can," you whispered quietly, attempting to hide your shame at accepting such an act of kindness from someone you barely knew.

"There's no need," he replied firmly, holding your gaze intimately, but you insisted. 

"No seriously Cillian. I will pay you back

when I can," you repeated resolutely, determined to hold onto what remained of your dignity. Yet, even through the dim street lamps, you could see the intensity in his eyes, burning right through your resolve. He took your hand gently in his, rubbing comfortingly with his thumb.

"Y/N, stop. It's fine," he whispered softly before, finally, roadside assistance picked up the phone.

After providing the necessary information, Cillian handed it over to you. With his guidance, you navigated through the automated system until a service provider confirmed the arrival time. Relief surfaced across your face.

Cillian smiled, recognizing your gratitude. "Thank you," you breathed deeply, feeling calmed momentarily, allowing yourself to relax against the cold leather seat, your heart racing as you realized how close you now stood to him due to the limited space within the confines of the car.

"Do you want to go back inside while we wait?" you asked, but Cillian shook his head head decisively. "No, let's stay out here. I prefer it outside," he stated firmly, pulling out a cigarette packet from his pocket and lighting one up. His eyes turned glassy as smoke swirled around him, creating an ethereal aura surrounding him. Your eyes followed his every move.

"You know you don't actually have to wait around with me. You can go with Jamie and Emma," you said sheepishly, glancing at Cillian briefly, trying to gauge his reaction. He only chuckled softly, shaking his head playfully, clearly unbothered by your suggestion.

"No, I had enough excitement last night and, to tell you the truth, these things are a lot of work," he admitted candidly, blowing out a cloud of smoke before continuing.

"So, you are saying that threesome are hard work, huh?" you questioned curiously, raising an eyebrow while secretly admiring his frank honesty. He smirked wryly, tossing the cigarette stub away into the darkened street below.

"Yes, don't you think?" Cillian asked before continuing this conversation. "I mean, they are fun, occasionally, but not regularly," he admitted candidly, making eye contact with you once more. You couldn't help but feel drawn to him as he spoke with such openness, his words resonating deep within your core. You found yourself unable to resist probing further.

"So, you prefer one on one encounters then?", you queried curiously, amused yet somewhat confused by his admission. "Well, mostly," he responded candidly, blowing out another puff of smoke. "Though sometimes it depends on who I'm with and the chemistry." Cillian added thoughtfully just as, finally, roadside assistance 

arrived to change your dead battery. Their appearance provided temporary reprieve from the escalating sexual tension between both of you.  

The mechanic worked efficiently on your car, carefully replacing the old battery with a new one. While they completed their task, Cillian and you stood outside and you were getting visibly cold. 

He noticed your shivering and pulled off his jacket to drape it over your shoulders, engulfing you warmly. You felt like a bird trapped in a cage - caught up in the magnetic pull that seemed to exist between you two. Unconsciously, your body shifted slightly closer to his, seeking some form of heat from his frame. But, instead of reacting, he merely stared straight ahead, appearing unfazed by your proximity.

When the mechanics were finally

done fixing your car, you silently wondered why he bothered helping you tonight. Hadn’t it been too much trouble for him? Nonetheless, you refused to express any signs of indebtedness or sentimentality and, after he paid the mechanic's bill, you both jumped into your car.  

Despite the late hour, traffic was relatively smooth and quiet, allowing you to navigate the streets together seamlessly. As you cruised along, the mood became increasingly awkward.

You exchanged polite, neutral conversation which did nothing to alleviate the palpable tension. Despite sharing laughter over trivial matters, you couldn't shake the feeling that the air was charged, electric even. You attributed it to the circumstances under which you met – a combination of intense desire and circumstance, but you also couldn't deny that something else lay hidden beneath it all. Something far more potent than simple attraction.

Unphased by this however, you dropped off Cillian at his hotel. After thanking him profusely again for everything, he said goodbye, kissing you on the forehead tenderly before stepping out of the car and heading back inside.

"It was good to see you again, Y/N. Call me know if you ever want to catch up," he said and, with that, the door closed behind him, leaving you alone with your thoughts. You sat there for a moment, taking in the lingering scent of his cologne mixed with your own musky pheromones. The memories of your passionate encounter played vividly in your mind, consuming you completely. Your fingers traced light patterns upon your skin where his hands had held you so tightly. Unable to escape the power he held over you, you drove back home, haunted by his touch, knowing deep down inside that you should not be getting involved with this man. It was something you should not pursue and, with that, you remained resolute to avoid him from that point forward. 

Tags:

@sunbeamseas @saint-ackerman @oatmealisweird @naxxsstuff @amanda08319 @r-m-cidnah @elysiannook @cillshot @infireddabdab @tastycakee @harrysbestiee @lilybabe22 @adalynlowell @henrywintersdearestgirl @ietss @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @ryiamarie @axionn

@heidimoreton @nela-cutie @futurecorps3 @delishen @nosebleeds-247 @thirteenis-myluckynumber @gills-lounge @hjmalmed @lost-fantasy @tiredkitten @sidechrisporn @smallsoulunknown @charqing-qing @hopefulinlove @aporiasposts @shycrybaby @me-and-your-husband @hjmalmed @lacontroller1991 @galxydefender @aporiasposts

@galxydefender @hunnibearrr @saint-ackerman @lunyyx @gentlemonsterjennie1 @ihavealotoffandomssorry @nadloves @lost-fantasy @nolucesn@mcavoy-girl @hjmalmed @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @blushykiss @tatumrileyslover @teawithsatanx @orijanko @rhaenyra4ever @xcinnamonmalfoyx @budugu @nadloves @kmc1989 @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @forgottenpeakywriter

[fillinforlater]

When Life Gives You Bandmates, Make A Mess Out Of Them

Huh Yunjin x Nakamura Kazuha

Length: 2830 words

Tags: idol x idol, falling in love, getting the hots for someone, in heat but totally not gay, sweaty and scared, in denial, lesbian sex, teasing, fingering, dirty talk, turning-someone-gay kink, making out, passionate sex, squirting, rubbing on each other, pit licking, pit kink, taking control, totally_straight!Yunjin / confident!Kazuha

TW: disclaimer: it's just a fic with kinks--no, you can't turn people gay/straight with force, but you should know that

Inspiration: @friskyriskywhisky once send an ask a looooong time ago with "J-line getting all the girls" and this suddenly came up, so I made this.

(A/N: Hope you like this idol x idol piece with a fucking great ship tbh. L4 is still in the works)

"Hurry up, we're pressed for time."

The photographer slaps his thigh repeatedly, each smack transferring his stress to everyone around him. Kazuha quickly steps up, with her simple yet addictingly beautiful outfit and long strands of chocolate colored hair. Her bandmate however is still nowhere to be seen.

"Where is the other?" the photographer sighs and turns to one of the staff members. The woman shrugs and walks towards the dressing room, shouting one name over and over again. 

"Yunjin! Yunjin, hurry up! We don't have all day!"

"I'm sorry!" Yunjin shouts in panic as she sprints out from underneath her stylists busy hands, through other staff members until she's right next to Kazuha.

"Ah perfect," the photographer says and picks up his large camera. "The behind the scenes team is also ready, so please get into position. Facing each other, hands on—you know the drill."

The two girls nod, it's not their first shooting session after all. Business as usual, one could say, nothing too special, too crazy—yet something is building up. You never know, until it's too late.

My heart is beating faster, Yunjin thinks and takes a deep breath. I should not have sprinted here.

"A bit closer please," the photographer gestures with his hands.

Kazuha takes a confident step forward, Yunjin hesitates.

That's a bit too close—wait, what is this? Why does she smell so good?

"Try to lock eyes, gaze a little," he shouts with anticipation.

Kazuha has her eyes already locked on target, when Yunjin slowly raises her head.

Wha—do-don't look at me like that!

For a fraction of a second, a smirk. Yunjin can barely keep her wrist on the younger's shoulder.

"Perfect."

Perfect indeed. Fuck, why is she so pretty?

Kazuha smirks. 

No matter how fierce and cool her facade is, Yunjin can't hide it anymore. She averts her eyes, her head to the side and, as if her heart is directly connected to her lips, she cracks a wide, shy smile. Kazuha joins her and they both begin to giggle.

"Nice, nice, very good," the photographer praises and someone from the behind the scenes crew gives a thumbs up. "Great content, well done girls."

"Shall we go again?" Kazuha asks, her lips still formed in a cheerful smile, and Yunjin can't help but stare. If it were up to her—

Please, again, Zuha.

Wait, fuck, what am I even thinking?

"It was perfect, I think we got everything,” the photographer responds. “Time for your solo pictures."

Kazuha gives a thumbs up and tries to leave the set, but Yunjin is still frozen before her, eyes a bit teary, arms a bit shaky, her smile a bit wider than usual.

"Yunjin-unnie, would you please—"

"Ahhh, of course, Zuha," Yunjin jumps and flails before getting out of Kazuha's way. "Sorry, I'm a bit lost today."

"Nah, it's fine," Kazuha waves her Unnies' worries off. "It's kinda cute."

With a wink the younger girl disappears behind the dressing room door. Yunjin's face starts to burn. The rosy flush that was about to settle on her features turns to the red of fire and no fire truck can cool off her heart right now. Flames engulf it again and again, as if someone keeps pouring gasoline on it.

What's wrong with her today? No, what's wrong with me today? Just a photoshoot, and of course she is pretty, Chaewon is pretty too, Sakura too—no, that's not it. 

But she smells so good, and her smile, those lips, the way she is confident yet acts shy at the same time—

Yunjin reaches for one of the water bottles and settles down, somewhere far away from the clicking of the cameras. No behind the scenes footage of her should exist right now, it's already a bit embarrassing that they captured her being somewhat unprofessional earlier.

Seriously, get your act together, She tells herself. What about it? Not that I haven’t seen pretty people before, not that I like girls that way. Probably just overworked, curse this comeback schedule. 

A couple of minutes later, Kazuha steps out of the dressing room, a blanket wrapped around her body. It hides her new outfit and her great body. For some reason, Yunjin has to think of the latter first, but she tries to shake it off and takes another sip from her bottle.

“Ready for the final set of pictures?” the photographer asks as one of the stylists combs and curls the final strands of Kazuha’s immaculate hair.

“Yes, where should I put this blanket?”

“Just put it on the floor, we’ll focus on your upper body for now.”

Like the curtains to a theatrical masterpiece, the gray blanket rolls off of Kazuha’s shoulder to reveal something so marvelous, Yunjin almost spits out the water in her mouth, shit. 

The japanese girl wears a large, open cardigan loosely hanging from one of her shoulders. Tight skinny jeans wrap around her hips, but thank God they do not hide her belly button and chiseled abs, the product of hard work and divine favoritism. What makes Yunjin gawk the most however is the exposed part of skin above Kazuha’s chest, a biteable collarbone, a lickable shoulder, fuck, I’d bite and lick my way up to her lips, oh my God, she is so fucking hot. 

Her Dongsaeng begins to take poses and make expressions that strike Yunjin’s body with heat, from head to toes, but most importantly, around her heart and at her crotch. Her eyes linger on the skin as she fans air to herself, but every attempt at cooling her off is futile. Kazuha just goes on, face disinterested, hand placed to the side of her head—that’s just personal now.

Yunjin tries to turn around, rather looking at the white concrete wall instead of the flawless skin she'd love to place hickeys on—she already failed and continues to stare. She can feel a tiny trail of her own wetness run down her trembling thighs and her drooling mouth falls open slowly. Luckily, no one is paying attention to her right n—

The camera. Behind the scene footage of her at the worst possible time. There is no explaining the rosiness of her cheeks or the glassiness of her eyes. Yunjin turns away from the camera and then back to it.

"Ah," she groans and dramatically fans air to herself. "It's so hot today, I—I need some water."

Shit, that was so stupid, Yunjin thinks as she tries to laugh it off. To make it worse, the cameraman gets closer, confused at the joke and her expression. Yunjin makes a finger heart, then hides her face in embarrassment.

Oh my God, I'm such an idiot. The only thing hot here is Zuha, for fucks sake. Why am I tripping so hard?

Why is she making me trip so hard?

#

Yunjin twists in turns underneath her sheets. It’s too hot beneath them, but it’s impossible for her to fall asleep without it. Sweat builds up on her legs, cooling them; it’s completely different in between her legs. The liquid building up there just makes the heat worse, it makes her more desperate and pushes her into a frenzy.

I need her so bad. Zuha, you make me go crazy!

Yunjin opens her eyes. The surprisingly strong light of the moon shines through the open window, onto the bed beside her. In their dorm, Yunjin shares a room with the person she longs for—it feels more like a curse than a blessing as of now though. Kazuha’s toned back, partially covered by her sports bra, is turned to Yunjin, but it suffices to start the elders' fantasies.

Zuha, I-I want to feel her skin, the shoulders, the back, then the abs, God, those hard, perfect abs. I need to grab them, hng.

Fuck it.

“Zuha, are you still awake?” Yunjin whispers, her voice seconds before breaking, her fingers entangled in the hem of her shorts.

“Yes, Unnie,” Kazuha whispers back and turns around. She looks beautifully sleepy, eyes narrow, blanket pressed to her chest. Small beads of sweat on her temple show that she is somewhat hot as well. “You keep turning all the time, it’s pretty loud.”

“I-I’m sorry about that, bu-but—” Yunjin takes a deep breath. 

“—it’s your fault, Zuha-yah.”

Yunjin climbs out of her bed and walks over to Kazuha’s. The Japanese girl looks at her confused and sits upright on the mattress. Yunjin can’t help but stare down at the perfect figure, the heaving chest, the thick thighs, I’m so sorry, Kazuha.

“I need you, Zuha.”

“Unnie? What’s wrong with you?”

“Please touch me.”

Yunjin pulls down her shorts to about her knees to reveal her shaven crotch drenched in slick arousal. She squirms and shivers when a tiny breeze comes through the wide open window, her eyes are unable to look at Kazuha, yet it is the only thing she wants to look at. 

“Please, Zuha-yah, your fi-fingers, I—”

Yunjin’s voice is tiny, very weak. She is not sure Kazuha even hears the words, let alone understand what she means. It's a tense moment where fear and arousal reach a new peak for Yunjin, I can’t think of anything else—what have I done? This was stupid.

Suddenly, hands on Yunjin’s hips, a warm touch on both sides. When she re-opens her eyes, Kazuha’s face is on eye-level with her and so close. Lips could almost touch, and Yunjin breaths heavily through her nostrils as she becomes stiff. Kazuha looks unimpressed.

“I did not know you swing this way, Unnie,” she says and pulls Yunjin onto the bed, having her face close at all times. “I thought you liked guys.”

“W-well, I, uhm—ah!”

Yunjin moans long and deep when Kazuha’s palm suddenly cups her pussy. A long drag by the middle finger, from her entrance, over her lips and clit to her navel—Kazuha has her pinned to the bed with a single digit. The younger idol smiles for a second but then her unimpressed, somewhat annoyed expression returns and she blows air on Yunjin’s cheeks.

“Ts, you can’t even admit it. That is kinda sad.”

Kazuha’s hand roams Yunjin’s tummy, then moves up and over the mid-sized, covered breasts. Yunjin groans as her hard nipples get rubbed through the fabric, the jolt of stimulation sends her hips upwards. She is bucking them upwards, please Kazuha, touch me, use your hands, but instead, Kazuha put one hand beneath Yunjin’s head.

“Where do you want this?” Kazuha asks and drags her finger over Yunjin’s chest again while forcing her head to watch with the pillow-like hand.

“A-at my cro-crotch.”

“Aw, Unnie, that was nothing. Try again.”

“I-I want them in my p-pussy, plea-please.”

“Almost there, Unnie.”

“Please, Kazuha, finger my pussy!”

“Good girl, Yunjin.”

Kazuha wastes no time and quickly searches for Yunjin’s slit. Quick rubs over Yunjin’s clit makes the elders head go haywire, before Kazuha inserts two of her digits into the wet cavern. Yunjin moans loudly, her body instinctively trying to force the fingers to move in order to feel them craze her cunt. Kazuha pulls them out however and rolls her eyes. 

“So greedy,” she says and makes Yunjin look at her awaiting cunt, fingers not inside anymore. “Greedy girls don’t get what they want, Yunjin.”

“Kazuha, please,” Yunjin whines and pouts her dry lips.

“Admit it,” Kazuha says sternly, ring finger circling Yunjin’s clit. “Or are you just a bit lost today, like earlier, during the shoot? Do you like guys, and hope that I am one of them? It’s just a phase, huh? Not real feelings, just something that you talked yourself into, right?”

“Hng.”

Yunjin groans, her face burning from desire and shame, a lot of uncertainty engulfing her, but at the same time, the answer, the right answer is so painfully obvious. Kazuha is so hot, hotter than any person ever, literally flawless, and her fingers are so close, ah!

“Say it, Yunjin.

“Say it.”

“Ka-Kazuha, you—

“—you made me gay!”

Kazuha smiles and slams her hand onto Yunjin’s pussy. The short burst of pain makes Yunjin gasp, but what leaves her truly speechless is the two fingers that start to pump and curl inside her heat. Kazuha pulls Yunjin’s hair, makes her look at how eagerly her cunt takes the digits. Yunjin can’t deal with it, her mind goes blank, her moans become feral. She screams repeatedly when Kazuha makes sure that her palm grinds vigorously on her clit

“Ruin this bed, Yunjin,” Kazuha groans, her voice becoming lower and more sultry. “Sweat on it, drool on it, cum on it. Spray your juice all over it and you’ll be a good gay girl.”

Kazuha! You’re so good at this, I want nothing more, only your touch, your fingers, your body! I’m so gay for you, ah!

“Kazuha, I-I’m so close—no, I’m cumming!”

Kazuha giggles and focuses on Yunjin’s clit more. No more words, just a booming scream that fills the entire dorm, even the street outside. Someone standing beneath the window, however high it may be up, surely knows what’s happening upstairs in the shared room. Someone launches their nectar out of her cunt in an orgasmic release while the other smiles and kisses her tenderly, continuously teasing the entrance to get a bit more squirt out.

Your fingers, your lips, Kazuha~

“You came so much, Yunjin,” Kazuha says happily, rosy cheeks and the biggest of smiles. Yunjin loses herself in the younger’s hazelnut eyes, her own full with tears of overstimulation. Suddenly, Kazuha starts to remove Yunjin’s bra, then undresses herself. Before Yunjin can react, they are both fully naked and Kazuha is on top of her, breasts, abs and pussies rubbing against each other.

“You have an amazing figure, Yunjin. Bigger breasts and a firm butt.” 

Kazuha gently slaps the latter and watches Yunjin melt even more into the wet bed.

“Y-you too, Kazuha. I-I want to touch all of it.”

“Then do it, silly,” Kazuha chuckles. “Your arms have been stiff this entire time. Just feel me up—or do you like this more?”

Kazuha entangles her fingers with Yunjins and then pins both her hands above her head onto a pillow. Yunjin looks and feels even more open now, as her sweaty, smooth pits are exposed and her amazing figure is in perfect view now. 

“Kazuha~”

“You like this, don’t you? My gay little girl wants me to touch her more, right?”

“Yes~”

With a big smirk, Kazuha starts to grind on Yunjin. Stiff nipples rub stiff nipples, a hard clit rubs another hard clit, curves and curves start to become one entity. Kazuha kisses all over Yunjin’s face, from ear to ear, over cheeks, chin or nose, until they engage in a passionate make out session, which urges Kazuha to grind her cunt faster on Yunjin’s.

“You like this, Yunjin?” Kazuha asks, lips still loosely connected to Yunjins. Drool runs from her mouth as she nods. Kazuha shifts the focus of her tongue further down and then suddenly to the right, orbs still locked with the heavily breathing, moaning girl below her. 

“What about this?”

Gently, Kazuha starts to lick across Yunjin’s exposed pit, the salty sweat hitting her taste buds, but instead of making her back off, they urge her to lick faster. Yunjins mouth is agape, her hips begin to work in tandem with Kazuhas to give more stimulation to her dripping pussy. 

“B-but it’s s-so sweaty,” Yunjin stutters, against the natural reaction of her body which is to succumb to Kazuha’s marvelous play on this sensitive spot.

“That’s why I like it so much,” Kazuha responds in a sexy hum and kisses, sucks even on the skin in the pit; everything to push the whimpering girl into another orgasm, which works faster than she would have imagined. A lot more quietly this time, Yunjin’s wets the bed and her legs in a fountain-like squirt while Kazuha makes out with her hairless armpit. 

A little more than a minute later, the two of them lay in their own beds, dressed in new clothes, breaths still quick, but trying to sleep nonetheless. Yunjin faces the wall, in heaven and at the same time embarrassed. She tries to close her eyes, but they can’t stay closed yet. She turns to Kazuha’s bed and peeks right into Kazuha’s sleepy face.

“Sleep tight, Unnie. Try not to keep me awake this time.”

“S-sure, Zuha.”

#

Yunjin wobbles to the breakfast table. Kazuha and Chaewon are already sitting and eating their cereal, while Sakura is in the kitchen making coffee. Yunjin’s heart beats faster, but she tries to play it cool and just sits down next to Kazuha like she usually does. As she reaches for the cereal however, Chaewon slams her hands on the table and her face turns bright red.

“You-you are a screamer!” she shouts at Yunjin. “Control your voice next time, jeez!” 

The room goes deadly silent, as if all the life had been snapped away. 

“Huh?!”

(A/N2: Adding some Kazuha and Yunjin for beauty appreciation just because!)

[softrozene]

Comforting Female Reader Who Has Experienced an Assault

Anon asked: Hey honey, I was too shy to ask off of anon... But do you think you could do some HC’s for the boys helping a f!reader who was previously sexually assaulted? I am having a really tough time right now. ( I am handling it all and I have people helping me too) it’s just really weird for me to deal with I guess Thank you sweet Ro!

rdr2 masterlist

I’m sorry to hear that stuff like that is happening to you but if you ever need someone to talk to just to vent or for advice you are always welcome to talk to me since I have experienced past sexual assaults and harassments. It’s always a no-judgment zone when talking to me fyi. Just remember everyone processes it differently but you are not alone and hopefully the people helping you are a strong support system.

I love you anon and I hope these make you feel better.

 I chose almost all the males I usually write for because they would all kill/die for the ones they love. 

Originally published on February 11, 2020

*Speaking to everyone who reads this: These can be taken as platonic relationships or romantic. Just know I am not romanticizing the issue. There will be solid advice. There will be dumb advice. These are after all my headcanons for how I think they would treat the issue with a fem!reader (I think with a male!reader they would act just a little bit differently. This is a sensitive topic so please read the warnings and just remember you are all loved.

Warnings: Angst, PTSD, fluff, mentions of past sexual assault

Hosea Matthews-

He would hear this from you directly

  Would be shocked before he drops everything in order to listen to you

  If you don’t wanna talk about it he won’t push you but he will hint that it may make you feel better

  If it happened all in the past he would piece together some of your tendencies that relate to the assault, what you tend to avoid and whatnot, and basically, he’ll help you so nothing at the camp will trigger you

  If it happened more recently he will try and urge you to tell him who it is so he can sick the boys on them, without your knowledge of course

  He’ll just say “It’s been taken care of Sweetheart. No need to worry about it.”

   Hosea is the most caring one out of them all and will constantly check up on you, see how you are doing/feeling, will get you whatever you want whenever you want, and more importantly will always put others in their place if he feels they are getting on your nerves or are crossing boundaries

  If you do daily talks he’ll always ask if it’s okay to hug you or hold your hand because he wants you to know desperately how much you mean to him and the gang

  If he sees you heading down the wrong path, he will pick you up without a doubt. Orders you to take care of yourself and if you don’t listen to him, he will send Arthur and John the most awkward boys in the universe to go and talk you into doing the stuff he told you to do

  He’ll do about anything you want in order for you to feel better and get past this traumatic experience

  “We can’t change what happened to us. That’s all in the past. However, we can change how it affects us now. How we’ll go on in the future. Turn this into something to make you stronger.”

  Dutch Van Der Linde-

  Will deadass go on a rampage after learning you’ve been assaulted

  All you have to say is that you got hurt by someone- He doesn’t need any details unless you want to fill up the rage he already has

  He will hunt down whoever they are no matter where they are with most of the gang by his side, it doesn’t matter how long ago it was, he wants to see that bastard/bitch who did this to you in the ground

  “And they will surely be dealt with” literally will be his words- Anyway after they are dealt with will he only focus on you

  He’ll be careful with you and probably the most annoying thing he can and will do is, treat you like glass

  It doesn’t matter anymore if this was in the past or more recently, he will make sure someone he trusts is by your side and preferably a woman so probably Miss Grimshaw

  Eventually, he will realize that he is overdoing it but he will give you one of his speeches saying it’s only because he worries about you

  You just gotta be upfront with him, tell him what you need and what you do not need, and he will fix himself after apologizing

  Expect a lot more gifts from yours truly

  By a lot, I mean a lot

  He will make it rain jewelry for you if it means you know how much he cares

  Can’t say that about the money though

  If it still lingers over you he will without a doubt, try and help you through the process of at least accepting what happened well happened

  “Try and focus on the now and make yourself better for the future” Or something along those lines would be his advice

  Arthur Morgan-

  Is a saint no matter what he says

  You would have to tell him face-to-face and rather bluntly that you were assaulted. If you hint at it, he may take a moment before he realizes what you mean

  He won’t act fast but he will sit down with you and have a talk with you

  Of course, he wants to act, his blood would be boiling at the thought of someone even touching you without your consent but for your sake, he will take a breather and wait until you are done venting to him

  He would treat you the same

  He wouldn’t necessarily tread lightly on certain topics unless he sees that it makes you uncomfortable and omg if one of the boys dares to mess with you he will be on their ass in a hot second

  Basically, he may hover but he won’t realize it since he’s treating you the same way as always

  It’s up to you as well to decide the fate of who hurt you

  If you want them dead, he’ll go do it in a heartbeat

  If you want them beaten, he’ll go do it in a heartbeat

  If you want them threatened, he’ll go do it in a heartbeat

  If you don’t want anything done, he’ll just keep an eye on you and make sure you are faring well

  When he’s not at camp he’ll have Hosea, John, or one of the ladies keep an eye on you

  He makes sure that you know you can bother him for anything, he may be grumpy about it but he’ll do it just for you

  If you’re having nightmares or just can’t sleep you can sleep on his cot and he’ll stay with you until you do fall asleep

  If nothing works to make you feel better you bet your ass he’ll take you with him, on rides to town just to get you out and about

  His last resort is letting you see his journal- That’s how you know this boy genuinely cares about you because no one touches the journal

  “People are not so kind. But you are. What I’m tryin’ to say is don’t let that bastard/bitch put out your light. I care ‘bout ya.”

  Charles Smith-

  He would be the most understanding like Hosea

  Would make sure that you are in a safe space mentally before he allows you to vent

  Will reassure you that you are safe no matter what but he will want to get back at this person

  It usually goes against his code for killing but he cares about you and no one deserves to get hurt like that so he will take time out of his day (probably go gather Arthur) and go and kill this person

  Whether you wanted that or not he would have convinced you this person would probably have another person to prey on soon enough

  Speaking of, he will remind you that you are not a victim but a survivor

  He’ll be there for you all the way

  If you need some company he’s there for you even if you don’t want to talk

  Charles can and will be your rock if you need it

  He’ll help pick you up and depending on if it’s okay with you, tell a selective few what happened so they can also help you

  It may be cheesy but I can see Charles in this scenario making you say positive things about yourself in order to ward away the negative thoughts

  “Repeat after me. I am a strong woman. I am resilient. I am a tiger.”

  May or may not be making fun of Mr. Pearson at the last one in order to get you to laugh

  Either way, he’ll make sure you to feed you positive lines almost every day

  If you need to get out he’ll take you on nature rides and remind you out beautiful the world is despite how cruel the people are

  He won’t exactly hover but he will be constantly glancing your way at camp to make sure you are all good

  Tells you venting is actually good without needing to hear the advice

  I forgot to mention it in the others but, all these males will make sure you know self-defense. They give you tips and tricks with each weapon of their choice that way no one will mess with you again

  You can always rely on Charles to give you good advice though. Understands that sometimes you just need someone to rely on so you know you’re not alone

  “I know you. You are strong and beautiful. Don’t give anyone the power to doubt yourself. Only you have that power.”

  John Marston-

  Is fucking awkward when it comes to this kind of thing

  He will 100% see red as soon as you tell him and no matter what no one but Arthur, Dutch, and Hosea can stop him from going after the person who hurt you (and those three will join him tbh)

  He is not the best to talk to about this so he’s okay if you just need the company

  May take you to a saloon and get you a drink or two just to ease you, will not give you more

  Honestly, I see John as completely awkward and not knowing what to do for this situation. He’s at a loss and if the problem (the person) has been dealt with wouldn’t know how to help you

  He would go ask the girls how to cheer you up or make you feel better, go to Hosea would be a better option and would finally just ask you what you need and how so you don’t get stuck in your PTSD

  Though he may understand but not in the way that is relatable. He’ll understand the nightmares and such but he won’t understand if you fear that person because his situations have always been near death

  He will desperately try to understand you though

  Will send Jack your way if that kid can cheer you up

  “Well fuck, y’know I always have your back. Just- I um don’t let ‘em get to you.”

  Javier Escuella-

  This man would have no idea what to say at first

  It’ll take him a minute to register before he asks if he can hug you- mostly to reassure himself that you are physically safe

  Once that is done and over he will get straight to business and ask what you need

  Murdering the person would cross his mind tbh but he’s too focused on you that he won’t ask till much later

  If you need to clear your mind he’ll take you fishing, show you how to fish and have Hosea come along so it’s all positive vibes

  He’ll write some songs and lullabies for you and serenade you to show you how much he cares

  I honestly think Javi bottles everything up when it comes to himself so he’ll be more than happy to talk to you about your PTSD or share stories and even his own past if he deems it right by you

  He would gut whoever you want like a fish for you btw

  “Hermosa, you’re strength inspires me”

  And it truly does

  It takes a lot of guts to admit and accept what’s happened and even more to want to reach out for help

  Javier would admire that and remind you whenever you need to hear it

  Sean Macguire-

  Ahaha if you thought John or Dutch had a short fuse for this- The minute he finds out he’s already spouting nonsense of them meeting their demise

  And if you allow it or they are not dead he will surely make them have a terrible death

   He would risk getting caught by bounty hunters again if that were the case

  As for comforting you, this boy doesn’t exactly know how to do that

  He laughs off his own traumatic experience so he’d probably be trying to get you to crack a smile or drink with him

  Homeboy would try and get you to kill some bloody people for the fun of it ngl

  Hopefully, his energy will rub off on you

  I don’t really see him as the sitting down type but if he cares about you he is more than willing to listen to you and also more than willing to give you unwanted advice and a shite ton of his opinions

  “Yer fuckin’ priceless. No mutherfucker hassa right to touch ye.”

  He will end the speech with something gory I bet

  *I was going to add Keiran and Lenny but I ran out of ideas but I hope the lovely lads I did write and their reactions/comfort help anyone who needs it

[e-dubbc11]

Hot neighbor Rumlow that you see in his yard like this one day. That's it. That's the ask 🥵💦

My lovely Lily,

You have so many great ideas roaming around inside that brain of yours and I love that you share those ideas with me and trust me to bring those ideas to life. So you wanted neighbor Rumlow? Here he is! I really hope you like it and thank you for always sending things/ideas to my inbox and for just being such a good friend ♥️♥️♥️

Hey, Neighbor

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Brock Rumlow x F! Reader

Warnings: None, really. A couple of swear words, fluff, some smooches, mentions of infidelity and divorce.

Word Count: 3.7K-ish

Summary: You’re newly single and start looking at your neighbor differently.

A/N: I don’t really have much else to say that I didn’t say above. Brock is fun to write for and even though she hasn’t read it yet, Lily said she’s already game for a part 2 🤣 I hope you like it!

As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

The early morning sun peeked through the very small opening in between your bedroom curtains. The warm rays beamed into your room, directly onto the foot of your bed where your dog, Beast, was sleeping peacefully.

It was Saturday and he seemed quite content that he also did not have to wake up early this morning however your internal clock never let you sleep in too much. Waking up with the sun was a lot better than being jolted awake by an alarm while it was still dark outside though so you reveled in the restful sleep you had last night.

You rolled over to look at your clock. It was 7:00 AM, birds were happily chirping outside your window, and you couldn’t wait to get up to do…nothing. It had been over a month since you had a free weekend and all you wanted to do today was relax, maybe start the new book you just bought, or just do whatever you felt like doing.

The house was quiet.

Since you finalized your divorce eight months ago, it had been very quiet but most of the time you didn’t mind. You thought maybe there was something wrong with you because you didn’t really have a problem being alone, sure there were times where you were lonely but you still didn’t mind being alone…maybe you actually preferred it.

You didn’t have any children so the divorce was quick and easy, he let you keep the house because he was moving in with his girlfriend, the one he was seeing while still married to you.

Yeah, that felt like a punch to the stomach. How could you not see it coming? Were you that blind? You thought you were happy together but it was all a lie, a lie that had dragged on for the past two years. It was humiliating and you felt like everyone knew he had been cheating on you except for you.

Even though they weren’t, you felt like everywhere you went people were looking at you, talking about you, and feeling sorry for you. But you were better off without him and you had everything you wanted right now.

You lived in a nice house, had a good job, friends, family, and your dog. What else did you need right now?

Coffee…coffee is what you needed.

“C’mon Beast…time to go outside, buddy. Let’s go.” You said, patting him on the head as he blinked his eyes and yawned, showing you all of his teeth.

After your divorce, you went to a local shelter because you wanted a dog for protection and companionship as you were now alone in your house.

When you walked in to where all of the kennels were, at first none of them felt like “the one” but as you moved toward the end of the rows of kennels, a young gray and white pitbull pushed his nose through the hole in the cage door and started wagging his tail, aggressively. Whimpering, he licked your fingers when you held them up to the kennel, he was such a sweet boy.

“What’s his story?” You had asked the employee.

“Not much to tell really, this guy has had a couple of homes but each owner said they didn’t really have the space for bigger dog like him and couldn’t give him the attention he needs.” They replied.

You had a decent size home and nice big yard for him to run around in so the decision was made that he was coming home with you and Beast smiled for the entire ride to his new home.

He did his little happy dance with his front paws before you opened the door and as soon as you opened it, he took off running for the very back of the yard where he did his business. As he sprinted back toward you, he stopped quickly in the middle of the yard to bring you his ball that he loved for you to throw for him.

The air was still slightly chilly as it brushed against your exposed skin. Your sleep clothes left little to the imagination, maybe you were still not fully awake yet, but you looked down and realized you were out in the middle of the yard in a thin strap tank top and shorts, with no bra on which of course is when your neighbor stepped outside to get onto his motorcycle.

You didn’t know what he did for a living but he was always out until crazy hours of the night or going in on weekends. You didn’t think he was a doctor; his wardrobe didn’t exactly scream “healthcare professional” but anything is possible. Dressed in all black wearing combat boots, he walked out of his side door with a scowl on his face and a furrowed brow.

His side door faced your yard and he actually did a double take when he saw you standing in the yard, half naked, playing with Beast so you gave him a little wave and a slight smile. He seemed a little flustered and quickly waved back but in an awkward manner.

His name was Brock Rumlow and had just come home from work the day you were moving into your house so he introduced himself to you and your then husband.

At the time, you didn’t really pay that much attention to what he looked like but now that you were single, you had noticed that Brock was quite handsome in a grouchy, angry sort of way.

Brock had dark brown hair, days old stubble on his face, and his eyes were a warm golden brown like the color of amber or whiskey. It was one of the first things you noticed about him when he introduced himself.

But you’ve had little interaction since besides the occasional “good morning” or a wave here and there. You felt yourself staring as he climbed on his bike and sped off down the street. You probably wouldn’t see him again today.

“Beast! Inside, now. Go on, time for your breakfast.” You said, holding the door open for him.

The temperature outside warmed up nicely since this morning and after cleaning for a little while, you decided you were finished with that for the day and were ready to relax with your book and a cup of tea. Part of the reason you bought your house was because it had a reading nook. You had always wanted one and you finally had one, it was your favorite place in the house.

With Beast asleep on the floor next to you and your tea resting on a little table behind your head, you were fully immersed in your book. Since it was such a nice day outside, you had opened the windows to get some fresh air and the curtains swayed as the cool breeze blew in through the screens.

You were so lost in the story, you almost didn’t hear Brock’s motorcycle pull back into his driveway. That’s strange. Usually when he left for the day, he was gone until sometime in the evening but you didn’t think much of it and went back to your book.

The reading nook faced Brock’s house and at one point you looked up from your book to rest your eyes and look out the window. To your surprise, when you looked up, Brock was standing in his driveway…and he was shirtless.

“Holy fuck.” You said out loud.

Oh shit…hopefully he didn’t hear you.

He was quite the specimen, warm tan skin, tight arm muscles and abs you could wash clothes on. How have you not seen this before? It couldn’t be the first time he’s been outside without a shirt but then again, he usually isn’t home during the daylight hours where you could see him clearly.

Beast picked his head up off of the floor as the words escaped your lips and he cocked his head to one side as he looked at you.

“Oh don’t look at me like that.” You said narrowing your eyes at him. “I didn’t know he was hiding that body underneath his clothes. How could I?”

You felt a little crazy talking to your dog like he was a person.

It looked like Brock was doing some stretching. Biting down on your thumb, you continued to stare out the window, hoping he was too far away for him to notice you gawking at him. With your thighs clenched together, you inched closer to the glass but you weren’t paying attention to how close to the glass you were.

Your forehead hit the glass with a slight “thud;” Brock looked up from his stretches and looked in your direction, thankfully you were quick enough to duck away from the window.

The pillow cradled your head as warmth rose to your cheeks and you watched as your book, resting on your chest, rose and fell with your nervous inhales and exhales. Beast had started to bark when he heard the thud against the glass. You tried to get him to stop by whisper yelling at him.

“Hey! Ssshhh, stop it! It’s just me!” You said.

Peeking out from behind the curtain, you saw Brock had gone back to his stretching. It looked like he was getting ready to go for a run. Beast finally stopped barking and Brock took off down the driveway.

You watched him until he was out of sight; finally, you could breathe easy but now you were wondering if he had noticed you watching him. You didn’t think so but it was still a possibility especially after the dog started to bark.

Maybe you were done reading for now.

**********

Since you had the entire day to yourself, you had the time to make your grandmother’s spaghetti sauce. You were the only one she trusted the recipe with and each time you made it, you reminisced about all the times you helped her make that sauce.

It would cook on the stove all day and your reward for helping her was she would give you a small bowl filled with sauce and a couple pieces of Italian bread for you to dip with. You would always get to have some before anyone else did, it was one of your favorite memories of her.

To get even more fresh air inside the house, you had opened the front door and kept the screen door shut plus Beast loved to sit in front of the door and watch people and cars go by.

While stirring the sauce, your back was toward the front door when Beast started to whine and scratch at the door. You figured he just saw another dog walk by; he loved to say hi to every person or animal that walked by the house.

He barked then scratched at the door so hard that he nudged it open and ran outside. You turned to see the screen door ajar and swaying back and forth.

“Shit! Beast! No!!” You shouted after him.

After you ran outside and down the driveway, you looked around for him and finally found him licking Brock’s face just past your mailbox.

“Oh my god, Brock I am so sorry! He just pushed the door open and ran out before I could stop him.” You said apologetically.

Brock was kneeling down next to Beast, gently patting his head.

“Oh that’s alright, doll. He’s a good boy, he just wanted to say hello. Didn’t ya boy?”

The smile on Brock’s face was probably the most genuine smile you’ve ever seen on him which made you smile.

“Well thank you for catching him for me.” You said.

You then did something very out of character. You had always been very shy and quiet but you liked Brock and you definitely couldn’t eat that sauce all by yourself. So even though it made you feel nauseous, you decided to ask him anyway.

“B-brock? W-would you like to come over for dinner tonight? I, well I made my grandmother’s spaghetti sauce and I forgot that it’s enough to feed a small army.” You said, struggling to get the words out.

He looked shocked and didn’t really know what to say, like it was the first time he’s ever been invited to dinner.

“Oh…thank you y/n, but I’m all sweaty from my run just now.” He said, politely.

You noticed the sweat glistening off his body and on his forehead. It was hard not to notice. He really was extremely handsome, especially when he smiled.

“Well you have plenty of time to shower and change. I’m not quite finished cooking yet.” You said.

Brock looked a little uneasy, almost like he didn’t want to hurt your feelings by telling you no. You finally felt ready enough to talk to another man in a way that’s not platonic and you were terrified that he was going to say no. And then to think you would be reminded of that rejection every time you saw him after that.

Glancing down at the ground, you thought maybe it would be easier if you didn’t look at him. Maybe you could keep the tears from stinging the back of your eyes but he surprised you with his answer.

“Well in that case, I’d love to, doll.” He said softly.

Butterflies formed in your stomach and the words that fell from your lips were a little shaky but you managed to get them out without stumbling too much.

“O-ok. Great! I’ll see you in about an hour then.” You said. “Come on, Beast. Let’s go, ya troublemaker.”

**********

Not wanting to look like you were trying too hard but still wanting to look put together, you put on a pair of jeans and changed from a white t-shirt to a black one in case the clumsy version of you decided to show up and get marinara sauce all over yourself. You kept the minimal makeup look you had on from earlier in the day and kept your hair back.

Brock knocked on your door exactly an hour later, Beast helped you greet him at the door by barking and wagging his tail. Brock had brought over a bottle of wine which was very sweet of him.

“Hi Brock…Beast, get down! I’m so sorry…oh, thank you for the wine. That’s very nice of you…BEAST, get down! I know you’re excited that someone else is in the house.” You said.

A slight smiled stretched across his lips as he looked at you with his honey colored eyes.

“I had a grandma once too…she taught me never to show up any place empty handed. I woulda got ya some flowers too but I only had an hour.” He said with a wink.

Brock was dressed almost exactly like you were. Black shirt and jeans but he was wearing black boots; he looked incredibly handsome.

He took one look at the dining room table and admitted to feeling a little underdressed. You had set the table nicely with placemats, cloth napkins, and candles. You didn’t think it was overly romantic but maybe he did and you were afraid you might scare him away but it didn’t.

“Do you need help with anything?” He asked.

You were caught completely off guard by that question. Your ex-husband didn’t help much with the cooking or anything, really.

“Oh! Thank you, I think I’m all set though. Actually, you can open the wine…let me just find the corkscrew.” You said.

**********

Surprisingly, Brock was very easy to talk to. The wine probably helped a little but you had a feeling that maybe he wasn’t as angry as he appeared to be sometimes. Eyebrows pulled together in a straight line, lips pressed together, the gruff raspy tone to his voice when he said “good morning…” maybe he just didn’t want people to know that he’s actually kind of sweet and soft.

“I’ll admit, I was a little surprised when I saw your ex movin’ out. I thought you two had a decent marriage.” Said Brock.

With raised eyebrows, you said, “Yeah well, I wasn’t having sex nearly as often as he was sooooooo.”

Brock looked surprised as you confessed your ex had cheated on you.

“Wait…he cheated on you?” He asked.

“Brock, I feel like everyone else knew except me, like everyone on the street was looking at me differently. I felt really ashamed.” You said with a hitch in your voice as you looked away from him.

Tears welled up in your eyes quicker than you anticipated and before you could prevent one from streaking down your cheek. It was slightly embarrassing because you didn’t know your neighbor all that well and now you were crying in front of him.

“Hey, hey y/n…it’s ok.” He said softly as he gently brushed the top of your hand with his calloused fingers. The rasp in his voice was so sexy. “If it makes you feel any better, I had no idea and I doubt anyone else knew either. Plus…just…well, fuck that guy.”

You weren’t expecting him to say that; it caught you off guard and you let out a little laugh.

“Ya know what? You’re right…fuck that guy!” You exclaimed with a wide smile.

The two of you finished the bottle of wine and Brock insisted on doing the dishes, he actually looked cute with the dish towel draped over his shoulder which, you couldn’t help but notice, was filling out that part of his shirt nicely. Was it the wine that was making you warm or was it him?

You continued to talk for a while longer before Brock got up to leave. You really didn’t want him to go though.

“In my line of work, they don’t really care that it’s Sunday. I have to get up early tomorrow.” He said.

Nodding your head, you replied. “Oh of course. I understand.”

You followed him over to the front door, he turned to face you, and said, “Thank you for this, y/n. It was really nice, haven’t had a home cooked meal in awhile so thank you again.”

Your bodies were close, sharing the same air and you could smell the wine on his lips as he spoke.

“You’re very welcome, Brock. I’m sure I’ll still be eating that sauce for days but thank you for trying to help me make a dent in it.” You said, nervously.

Your heart was beating so fast, you thought it was going to burst out of your chest. You knew your skin would be warm to the touch as your heart beat faster and faster.

“Well…goodnight y/n.” He whispered.

His warm breath brushed against your ear, the air between you felt thick, like you could cut it with a knife and you wanted him to kiss you so badly.

You replied. “Goodnight.”

He walked out and turned back once more to wave and smile at you.

Before you closed the door, Beast whimpered while staring out at the street. He was probably wondering where Brock went.

“He went home, buddy. He doesn’t live here, ya know.” You told him with a slight smile but in a disappointing tone.

As you closed the door, Beast whined again and you whispered, “I know, I wanted him to kiss me too.”

After your shower, you decided to read a little more. The lights in the house were dimmed, the only bright light in the room was your book light and you had only been reading for about 20 minutes when Beast let out a low growl. You looked down at him, his tail started to swish back and forth then started to whine.

“Ya know for a big bad pitbull, you whine a lot like a little baby. What is it?” You asked.

Immediately after you asked that question, there were three loud raps against your front door. Confused, you put your book down, threw the blanket off of your legs, and walked over to the front door. Beast followed you, wagging his tail.

Brock was leaning against the screen when you opened the front door.

“Hey doll, I uh…well, I forgot something.” He said, opening the screen and stepping inside.

You looked up at him, then looked back over at the dining room chair, still a little confused.

“Oh…I don’t remember you bringing a jack—“ You tried to say before he cut you off.

Brock’s lips collided with yours, as he closed the door behind him. Suddenly your back was against the wall, running your fingers through his thick brown hair, while your lips parted, giving his tongue access to your mouth.

He was a really good kisser.

Brock’s chest was pressed firmly against yours, so you were pinned in between him and the wall. He was so strong but it felt amazing to have your body pressed against his. He nipped at your jawline and peppered kisses up and down your neck while soft moans escaped your lips.

Beast stood on his hind legs and lunged toward you and Brock like he was missing out on something. He was whining.

Breathing heavily, you pulled away and smiled at Brock. Your cheeks were warm and you could feel how red they were.

“I think someone else wants a kiss.” You said. “Careful, he has a fast tongue.”

Brock bent down so he was level with Beast and he glanced up at you. “Yeah, he ain’t the only one.” He said with a wink.

You covered your eyes in embarrassment.

After giving Beast gentle pats to his head, Brock stood up and closed the gap between your bodies. He cupped your cheeks, leaned in, and kissed you again. These were gentle kisses, soft and sweet and his stubble lightly brushed against your skin.

It had been awhile since your lips had touched someone else’s, his kisses sent shivers down your spine and gave you butterflies in your stomach. These were feelings you haven’t had in a long time; you were nervous but willing to give it all another chance.

“Dinner at my place next time, doll?” He asked.

A sly smile stretched across your lips as you purred into his ear.

“Only if we can have dessert first…neighbor.”

Others that might enjoy: @munsonownsmyass @itwasthereaminuteago @fluffyprettykitty @k-marzolf @redstarsandnightmares @nutmeg17 @gijos @randomlittleimp @nekoannie-chan

If I tagged you and you didn’t want to be, just let me know and I’ll never do it again. As always, thank you again for reading!

[ask-ganondorf]

Ask Ganondorf!: The "About Page"

[[Welcome to "Ask Ganondorf", a Legend of Zelda-themed askblog formerly exclusive to Cohost! This is the post where I do a little promoting and explain a few things. This is the mod speaking; I hope you enjoy your visit here, and don't forget to leave a message before you go~!]]

[[Continue below the cut for more information...]]

[[This is an old-fashioned character askblog, the kind that was popular on here about a decade ago. Want to ask Ganondorf something? Go right ahead! You don't even need to be a LoZ fan. An askblog lives and dies by audience interaction, so when in doubt... just send whatever ask you want! Don't be scared of the idea that someone else may have already asked what's on your mind, anonymous asks are enabled in case you're feeling shy or private. I don't mind "spam like"s, comments, or reblogs, either. You can ask the mod (me) things as well if you really want! Lore, clarifications, headcanons, boundaries... though some things may be left vague until the point where you can get the information out of Ganondorf himself, heheh...]]

[[This askblog is migrating from Cohost because of Cohost shutting down at the end of 2024. I never got much following there, but Cohost's more lax content/artwork guidelines shall be sorely missed. I am going to gradually cross-post what asks I did manage to answer on the original Cohost edition; I shall also try and go through the unanswered asks I have left over in the Cohost inbox and answer them here, in kindness and sadness...]]

[[The desktop theme of this blog is currently under heavy construction. Be patient, an evil king's castle can't be built overnight~!]]

[[The "timeline" and exact time this blog takes place in is intentionally left vague, but is very much Ocarina of Time-inspired at least in terms of aesthetics. This may change as the blog evolves and builds more interactions. It's also quite headcanon-heavy (as it must be, since Ganondorf gets so little deeper exploration in canon...), so prepare for lots of fun with that! I'm also open to old RP/ask blog community staples such as magic anons, special events, prompts, themed starters, etc... Again, don't be too afraid to try sending messages yourself! One last thing to bear in mind, however...]]

[[I am NOT the character featured on this blog. Views expressed in-character are not necessarily shared or intended to be promotion.]]

[[Some content on this blog may become "dark" given the villainous focus. This askblog is not recommended for children and certain posts may be marked 18+. Please discern fiction from reality and avoid assuming malicious or dangerous authorial intent. Message me directly if you require clarification, triggers tagged, or content warnings applied.]]

[[All that said, have fun! This post may expand in the future to something like a FAQ, and will remain pinned until I create proper subpages.]]

[[As for all that you really need to know about me, the moderator, personally...]]

[holybibly]

hi!! i’m a writer myself and despite having mdni on my blog, i still get a lot of minors trying to with my work. i regularly have to check my followers for ages in their bio and i’ve even had minors come in my inbox telling me that i’m ’overreacting’ for not wanting them to read my writing. it’s gotten to the point where i’ve just turned off anon altogether, partially because of the weird people in my inbox and partially so i know i can be safe and not respond to minors by accident.

i guess what i’m trying to get at here is even though you have mdni on your blog, how can you be sure that the people in your inbox aren’t minors. there’s nothing physically stopping them from coming on your blog and sending sexual asks and you seem to facilitate these asks by responding in an equally sexual manner. i hope i’m not coming across as rude, but i just don’t see how you can be sure that you’re not engaging with minors when you respond to anons in a flirtatious and sexual way. if you somehow do check their ages, great! but since they’re anon, i don’t really see how that’s possible…

So, hello. Well, the wording of the question is rather crude to begin with, don't you think? And frankly, I'd prefer to take such questions to DM posts, but if you want to talk, you're welcome. 

First of all, don't you think it's a bit unfair? Accusing anonymous people and then asking a question anonymously? I don't think it's very nice, or do you think I'm going to declare a witch hunt and go on a bashing spree? That's so stupid. Or do you just not like me? Because that's what it sounds like. In general, I don't mind you having an opinion, but by sending a message like that, you knew I'd respond to it. 

Secondly, I know this is going to sound awful and you can totally throw a bunch of shitty comments and posts at me, but let's be honest, even if we check the age of our subscribers and readers every time they subscribe to us, when they ask us questions, comment, reblog, etc., where is the 100% guarantee that those people didn't lie about their age when they created their blog on Tumblr? 

Go to any porn site; age verification is just a tick in the box. These are the horrible realities we face every day. The internet is a place where it is very difficult to verify anything, and unfortunately, there are consequences.

I am in no way supporting the sexualization of minors, and I am certainly not engaging in depravity, although you make it sound that way. 

But I do know that there are many people who can't talk openly about their desires, sexual or otherwise; people who doubt their sexuality and self-acceptance; people who are judged for being different; people who are shamed for being too feminine or masculine; for having problems with daddy or mommy; or simply for being too quiet and shy. Not all of us are going to come out for manifestos and parades. 

And in this case, the only option for them is anonymity. I repeat, I do not support the sexualization of minors in any way, and if you want to accuse me of encouraging such things, I suggest you look at some of the profiles of authors on AO3 who openly use sex scenes with minors and even children in the text of their work. 

I don't know your social circle as a writer, and since you're asking this anonymously, I can't even check your work, but I think the problem is not whether I answer anonymous questions or not, but whether I talk to my bunnies at all. Every time I get messages like this, I think about it. You call me weird, angry, triggering, and now a lecher. Not directly, but the context is clear. 

I've never written messages like that to anyone; you know, it's not nice. I've never intended to offend or hurt anyone with my replies or FFs. But apparently everyone around me, for some strange reason, thinks I'm some source of universal evil while trying to retrain me and change my character and disposition. 

I really hope you are happy with what you are doing. 

Bunnies, I'm sorry. There will be no updates for a while.