#I CAN SEE THE PROS AND CONS OF BOTH OPTIONS REALLY
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ayyponine · 1 year ago
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girl help im going back n forth on whether or not i should send an email to thank the beautiful man fr letting me join the drawing session last week (more info on that entire situation here and here) and letting him know i probably wont be back but appreciate having had the experience either way. great or horrible idea leave a comment or DM to lmk.
#anyway more nuance on the whole situation is this. i am very single and this guy keeps being on my mind but i do not have any read on him#the last contact we had was me makin an ass of myself by going like hehe yeah this was nice everyone was nice ok yall have a nice evenin bye#while my heart was like visibly pounding out of my chest and u could probably see on my face i was internally thinking girl shut UP!!! LEAVE#so im like ok either hes weirded out by me so let me say thx AGAIN now in a composed way AND giving him peace of mind knowing i wont be back#unless?? i was not as awkward as i thought & get reassured i can return any time and then i could still b like thanks! and just Not go#i mean even then he might say it's fine even if he IS uncomfrtable w me just to 1. be nice and 2. make money w a participant locked in yknow#it does NOT help that the line btwn casual and professional was like NOT there btw its him just hosting the event as we all do our art idkkk#anyway if you THINK youve PROBABLY been a lil off is it better to 1. have a do-over and get closure or 2. fuck off forever hoping u never#like EVER run into the dude again and be awkward AGAIN bc well! u live in the same city and are both into art so?? there IS a possibility#I CAN SEE THE PROS AND CONS OF BOTH OPTIONS REALLY#yay for sending email: get a response get some clarity NOW. nay for sending email: girl u met him twice. please. leave the stranger alone <3#the one positive abt me feeling Dumb and Embarrassing is at least every time i think back i heave a Big Ole Sigh. feels nice tbh feels good#sad part is i rediscovered how much i love doing art and want to improve. would love to return it was so cheap.. pleek ill get over my crush
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nanamiscocksleeve · 3 months ago
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Prescription For Pleasure
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Warnings: MDNI, sex, masturbation, medical masturbation, use of vibrators, clit play, piv sex, use of latex gloves, oral (fem receiving), some praise, kinda slow burn A/n: I am not normal about this man in any way. Not really proofread. Please do not use my banners without permission.
You’re seated in Zayne’s office, trying not to squirm as he sets up your appointment. Although this was now the third time you were seeing him for this regular inspection, it didn’t alleviate your nerves the slightest. Each month, according to the Hunter’s Association regulations, every hunter needed to be seen by their primary care physician for 3 consecutive days for their health.
And although the association deemed it a necessity, it was an embarrassing requirement according to you. The Hunter’s Association had done a survey and discovered that many of their employees suffered from high levels of stress because they were isolated and lacked much-needed human contact. To combat this, they made it mandatory to get physical contact by a medical professional every month.
But when all the fancy jargon was pushed aside, all the hunters called it the same thing - medical masturbation. It had become wildly popular amongst both men and women hunters, eagerly marking the days on their calendar for when they could come in. When you heard about the rule, you wished the earth would open up and swallow you whole. You had tried talking to Jenna to insist that you were indeed taking care of yourself in that aspect, thanks to your trusted vibrator, but she had shaken her head no. 
“We need documentation. I’m subject to it, and so is everyone else in my order.”  Defeated, you’d walked out of Jenna’s office before remembering another mortifying fact with a jolt. Your primary care physician was Zayne. 
Your childhood friend, your trusted cardiologist, stoic and calm, who remained reserved during your general checkups, was going to be your medical masturbator. You had almost turned yourself into a ball on the floor, tweaked out at the insanity of it all. Although Zayne was your general physician, you had a separate gynecologist, and apart from asking if you’d had your annual PAP smear, Zayne had left that part of your anatomy unquestioned. It didn’t help that you were attracted to him, and sure, if he’d asked you out on a date, you would have been more than happy to let him inspect you all he wanted down there.
But this clinical setting, enforced by your organization was a little too much to bear. Wondering how to tackle this situation, you wander over to Tara who was humming as she made her medical bookings on her phone app. “Isn’t this exciting?” she squeals as she sees you. “God knows the dating pool is thin right now. This is just what I needed!”
Tara’s primary care physician was a woman, and you wondered if that was a pro or a con. On the one hand, dropping your panties for a woman doctor seemed less unnerving than for a man. But if you had a preference for men, would it work against your arousal? You shook your head at your ridiculous musings and focused on talking to Tara. “Are you really that excited about this?”
“You have no idea!” Tara taps her feet as she talks to you. 
“And you’re ok about having a woman stimulate you?” You probe, trying to gauge Tara’s reaction. Tara giggles and lightly pats your shoulder. 
“I don’t know but the idea is kind of hot. I mean, getting it on in a doctor’s office? Besides if I don’t like it, I can change the doctor the next time.”
Her words hit you like a ton of bricks. “You can change your doctor?”
“For this yes, the app gives you an option since it involves showing off a lot of intimate areas. You have to be able to trust your doctor right?”
You logged into the app, finding the little button to request a change in doctors, but for some reason, the page kept refreshing and crashing. With a sigh, you decide to get the worst of it over with and call Zayne, hoping he can make the change for you on his end. His voice is cool and professional when he answers your call.
“Yes?”
“So, you must have heard about…the new regulation?” you had put forth nervously.
“I am aware of it, yes.” 
“Well, for obvious reasons, I would like a different doctor.” 
Zayne smoothly says, “Of course. Patient comfort is always first. Do you have a doctor in mind?”
“Maybe my gynecologist? I tried doing it in the app but it keeps crashing.” There’s a moment of silence and you can hear Zayne’s fingers tapping away at his keyboard before a low hum leaves his end of the line.
“There appears to be a problem.”
“Problem?” you’d parrotted back.
“Yes. Because so many people are booking appointments at the same time, most of the available doctors are already taken. Including your gynecologist.” 
It felt like watching a bird crashing into a window in slow motion, that brief moment of hope that it wouldn’t hit the glass shattering in an instant. “Oh.”
There’s a pause before Zayne delicately says, “I’m sorry but it looks like you will have to make those appointments with me for this month. 3 of them according to the regulation. Hopefully, you can make the change for next month.” His voice sounded slightly apologetic.
“Won’t it be weird given that we know each other personally?” The question had fallen from your lips before you could stop yourself. 
“I promise not to treat you any differently than any of my other patients who are coming in for this inspection. I understand this may be a little unexpected, but I assure you I did a term of gynecology during my internship.”
A tinge of mirth carried over in his voice and you can’t help but make a noise of embarrassment. “Zayne, please!” His laugh was dry but not unkind, and you can’t help but want to hide your face even though he couldn’t see you. 
“Don’t worry too much. But I do advise you to make the appointments soon. My schedule is filling up rapidly.”
With those words, he’d disconnected the call and you were left wondering if an unknown god from another planet had cursed your existence. 
And changing doctors had proven to be more difficult than you’d thought. The entire organization seemed to be having a single thought. They had made appointments in the app almost halfway into the year, essentially blocking you from being able to do anything about your situation. Now on your third month with Zayne, you watch as he checks his notes from your last session, feeling like you want to scamper from the room.
The last two sessions had been incredibly stimulating, your arousal heightened by the fact you were attracted to Zayne. You’d never considered having someone watch as you touched yourself but found that you’d enjoyed it, at least, when it was him. He had remained professional, but you’d avoided him these last two months, save for when you had to get your monthly cardiac profile. He reads his notes from his computer as he prepares for your session. 
“Preferred device for stimulation still a vibrator, with a large, rounded, flexible head?” His eyes remain on his screen and you’re grateful for him giving you this smidgen of privacy. 
“Yes.”
“Preference for the doggystyle position still?” 
Your face burns. “Yes.”
“Still consenting for verbal stimulation?”
You nod your head.
“And still consenting for internal vaginal stimulation?” You make a noise of consent, squeezing your thighs together, your panties uncomfortably chafing against your already swollen pussy. 
“All right, I have everything I need.” He logs off and removes his lab coat, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt, revealing his well-corded arms, and your mouth almost waters at the sight of them. Clearing your throat, you shyly reach into your bag and pull out the vibrator in question, which he takes from you and clamps into a stand, adjusting it over the examination table you’d be on. A bottle of lube awaits on the tray next to the table and you swallow as he finishes the setup. 
“Whenever you’re ready,” he says in that deep voice, and feeling like your fingers are wrapped in thick woolen mittens, you reach behind you to untie the hospital gown you’re wearing, and it falls to the floor with a swoosh, your nipples pebbling under the sudden chill. A small set of sensors were taped to your chest and on the sides of your forehead, essential medical devices to ensure your orgasm was satisfactory. Unperturbed, Zayne gestures to the table and you make your way onto it, letting your feet settle in the stirrups as he settles on a stool between your legs, pulling on latex gloves before gently spreading your folds apart. You stare up at the ceiling as he does his initial checkup.
“Labia look healthy, no signs of trauma or abnormal discharge,” he murmurs, then runs a finger down the edge of the fold that separates your inner and outer lips, causing your core to clench involuntarily. You hold still, knowing very well he saw the action, holding your breath, letting out a little sigh as he lets go. 
“Normal reaction to stimuli, already semi-aroused,” he says, trashing the gloves and making another note on his computer. He glances over at you, leaning back uncertainly on the table. “You may begin.”
You swallow, then carefully turn onto your hands and knees, crawling towards the head of the table, grabbing the bottle of lube and squeezing the viscous liquid onto the head of the vibrator, avoiding eye contact as your breasts sway under the motion, nipples painfully hard from anticipation. You could feel Zayne’s gaze but can’t bring yourself to look up. Even though this was the third time, it hadn’t gotten easier, stripping naked and pleasuring yourself in his office. 
Once the rounded head of the vibrator is slick, you turn, the chill of the lube against your heated membranes causing more blood to flow into your already engorged nub, and run your moist slit across the surface to spread the liquid onto your slickened folds. Your hand fumbles for the little remote control and with a buzz, the vibrator turns on at the lowest setting. You click the button a few more times until it gets to the speed you liked, then fail to hold back a moan as the sensations pleasurably begin to take hold in your clit. 
The first time you had done this, nervousness had made you set the vibrator on the highest possible setting hoping to get a quick orgasm and sprint out of the office. Unfortunately, the sensors relayed this information into Zayne’s medical record that your climax had been unsatisfactory, and you had endured being lectured by him with the medical gown loosely draped on your body, your rear open to the cold office air. 
His tone wasn’t unkind but it hadn’t helped you feel better either. “It helps neither of us if you rush this. The whole purpose of this examination is to ensure you’re relaxing. I know it’s embarrassing but if you fail to have a proper orgasm, I’ll have to make you repeat the process until I get data that says otherwise.”
“The sensors are-”
“The only way to measure anything. Without involving another person anyway.”
His words had left you gobsmacked and your retort had died in your mouth. After that incident, you had learned. Even with the chagrin of having him watch you, you had learned to take your time and let the feelings build, leading to incredibly savory climaxes that made your body squirm from the aftershocks. 
Your hips sway, setting up a rhythm to brush your sensitive slit onto the head, letting it vibrate from cunt to clit, the lube aiding the frictionless sliding and making your core drip. Quiet noises of pleasure leave your throat as help yourself, arching your back and changing the curvature of your ass to maximize the sensations, then when the perfect pattern emerges, you let out a keening sigh, and try to remain still, letting the vibrator work its magic. 
Zayne, who has been quietly observing the computer this entire time, observing the spikes relayed from the sensors, asks, “Have you found your optimal pleasure form?”
“Yes,” you gasp, the timbre of his voice sending an arrow of lust into the deepest parts of your clenching core. You knew what was about to come next. The sound of Zayne’s desk chair moving, followed by the snap of latex gloves as he pulled a fresh pair onto those beautiful hands. He approaches the examination table and takes the bottle of lube you had set aside earlier, a wet squelching noise issuing from it as he squeezes it over his gloved hand, gathering the fluid on his index and middle fingers. He leans over to whisper in your ears; the verbal stimulation has begun.
The humiliating reveal that you had a heavy praise kink had come up during your initial session and despite your insistence that it wasn’t necessary, Zayne, the ever-diligent worker, had made a note in your profile, and he’d been fulfilling it each time. A tickle of hot breath near your ear, before he murmurs, “Are you enjoying yourself?”
The hum of the vibrator in the background coupled with his voice makes your breath catch in your throat. You nod, knowing you didn’t have it in you to form coherent words. 
“That’s a good patient. Good patients listen to their doctors you know. And you’re doing a wonderful job.”
Your hips snap back to push your clit against the rubber pad, letting out a whimper of pleasure, the action pushing your ass up higher, revealing your pathetically drooling cunt, fluttering with the dissatisfaction of being unfilled. 
“Are you ready?” He waits for your consent and you manage a husky, ‘mm hm’.
“Good girl. Take a breath.”
You inhale, trying to relax, then let out an uninhibited moan as Dr. Zayne inserts his middle finger into your needy cunt, the ring of muscles offering no resistance to the probing digit. He gently thrusts a few times, before curling the tip of his finger up into the delicate patch of nerves on your upper wall, the smooth come hither motion awakening a new level of pleasure in your body. Your fingers tighten on the edges of the table, sobbing, trying not to scream at the feelings that threatened to explode from you. He keeps up the gentle assault before asking, “Are you ready for another one?”
“Yes…” your voice comes out shakily, knowing you desired more than just his fingers, but that you would never get to experience it. 
“Perfect. So well behaved, taking exactly what I give you.” Zayne’s sensual voice floods your ear before his index pushes into you, the thickness of both his fingers sending you into overdrive. Your walls clench welcomingly around him, inciting an exciting pull of liquid heat in your abdomen, the muscles tensing in anticipation for the exquisite release you knew was about to occur. 
Feeling your inhibitions abandon you as you are stroked closer to orgasm your self-control slips and his name falls from your lips as he pushes over the edge.
“Zayne…” some partially functioning confine in the back of your brain registers what you had just involuntarily purred, but the spasms rocking your core, those gratifying waves of delight flooding your body made it easier to ignore it as your being is reduced to a pliant mess of pleasure. His fingers ease up as the fluttering in your pussy calms down, your clit pulsating weakly as the final vestiges of pleasure are wrung from your body. 
With a wet noise, his fingers leave your moist hole, the glove coated with your juices and the lubricant. Awareness finally comes crashing around you as you realize what you had uttered in the throes of passion. 
“I…I didn’t…I wasn’t in control…” You try to find a way to explain, to let him know you had very little choice in the matter of sobbing his name as you orgasmed, but everything feels flat, almost on the fine line between explaining and insulting. 
“There’s no need.” Almost as if he’s read your mind, Zayne matter-of-factly redirects the conversation. “It’s not uncommon to blurt out things during climax. Some people swear, and others call out names. It was a very normal reaction considering I was the one in the room with you.”
He throws the gloves in the trash and goes to check the computer, to ensure the sensors had given him the information he needed before starting the second round of the appointment.
“Oh.” You say quietly as he sits at his desk, feeling dejected. Although relieved he wasn’t making a big deal out of it, you can’t help but feel disappointed with his reaction. Shouldn’t a man be flattered when a woman cried out his name when she came? Maybe he really was treating you strictly as a patient. And here you were, pussy exposed and spread after being probed by his dextrous fingers, mooning over him like a high school girl. Perhaps the limit of your relationship with him was in fact, doctor and patient, the childhood friends aspect fading. 
So there was no romance here at all. You had a crush on him, and he was doing his job. Reality sucks. You sniff and suddenly feel cheap, and get out of the doggystyle position and try to find the hospital gown to preserve some of your modesty. Zayne glances over at your sudden movements.
“Are you cold? I can get you a blanket.”
“I’m fine.” You try to sound normal. 
“Your records show that you usually rest about 10 minutes before you are ready for the next round. Do you feel like that will be the case this time too?”
You find the gown and drag it up to your chin, covering your body as you lay back on the table. “Yeah. Actually a little sooner today maybe. I have somewhere to be.”
“You can’t rush these things. Your body will cum when it wants to. A forced orgasm doesn’t promote anything beneficial.”
“Well can we find a way for this to happen quickly and in compliance with the sensors?” You’re trying not to let your frustration show, the pleasantness of your orgasm fading. “I don’t think I have the patience to do two more rounds.”
Zayne listens to you impassively, but those amber eyes flecked with green had an underlying intensity you couldn’t place. “You don’t have the patience to do two more rounds?” He gets up and comes over to you. “You want to just leave then?” He approaches the edge of the table and there’s tension in his jaw. Perplexed, you look at him, his reaction unexpected. 
“No, I’m sorry, I know I can’t leave because of compliance and all that.”
“Compliance,” Zayne mutters under his breath before grasping your chin and forcing you to look at him, a gasp leaving your throat. 
“You’re getting frustrated because you have to do this a few times every month while being supervised? Do you have any idea what I have to do before you come in for these sessions?” His voice is a growl and you clam up, shocked by this aggressive display of expression from him.
“Every month I have to remain professional as you come in, pleasure yourself, and then leave. I have to endure seeing your beautiful body bare in front of me and control all my impulses to touch you, to not overstep my limitations as your doctor. I pleasure myself remembering the noises you make and ensure I’m well spent before coming in to do your appointments. You sit there, acting like it’s hard for you, but do you have any idea what you do to me?”
One of his knees is on the table, and he’s looming over you making you feel like a tiny animal caught in his fury. “It’s torture, to watch you. You’re not like the other patients I see. You never have been. Because with you, I always feel like I’m on the verge of losing control. Do you know how difficult it is to not do things to you that aren’t specified on your medical record? To have my fingers so intimately inside you, feel every little drop of pleasure clenching around my fingers, knowing at the end I can’t have you to myself? To hear you call my name and know that you only see me as your doctor?” 
Your face is a bright shade of red but you can’t look away from his face. His teeth are gritted, and when you dare to glance down, you see the noticeable bulge that has formed between his legs. He follows your glance and clicks his tongue, letting go of your chin. 
“I know I crossed a boundary today. It’s all right. You can go. I’ll reschedule you with another doctor. I know you didn’t want me in the first place.”
Your mind is a blur as you quickly reach out to grab his hand, your heart hammering wildly in your chest. His admission was like a prayer answered, and you weren’t going to meek about this. His breath hitches as he feels you pulling at his hand and gives you a look of uncertainty. Your lips part but the words you want to say refuse to come out. 
“Damn it,” he whispers ferally before his mouth captures yours in a rough kiss. It was wild and demanding, a contrast to the reserved, patient man he usually was. You’re swept up in the feeling of his mouth on yours, the taste of his tongue, and the softness of his lips. When you break apart, his hand cups your cheek, his eyes searching your face.
“This isn’t just because of the session right?” He asks keenly and you realize what he’s asking you. He’d been aching for you before this whole stupid policy came into place. The same way you’d been longing for him. 
“No, it’s not. I had a crush on you back when you became my doctor to check on my heart condition.” A sigh of relief leaves him before he tenderly presses his forehead to yours, and you’re caught up in the sweetness of the moment. 
“I just had to be sure.”
Boldly, you raise your head, delighted when he meets you, pulled back into his kiss, your tongues sliding over each other, your fingers tangling into his hair, scratching the nape of his neck, pulling him closer to you. 
You gasp as he breaks the kiss to drag his tongue down the column of your throat, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses to the heated flesh, your blood humming in your veins as your eyes flutter closed. He pulls away the gown and pulls your perked nipple into his mouth, and you revel in the jolt of pleasure it brings you, each suckle felt in your clit which had already swollen up again in need. His fingers capture your other nipple, softly tweaking and pulling it and drawing little whines of desire from your throat. 
Your hand finds the junction between his legs and cups the heavy bulge, drawing a groan from him, palming him through his slacks, feeling it grow and tent the fabric under your ministrations. A low guttural sound leaves him and he gets off the table, and you almost protest until you see him dragging the small wheeled stool from earlier towards the table. He settles down on it, looping his arms around the tops of your thighs and pulling you closer to the table's edge until your feet find the stirrups again. 
“Stay open for me darling,” he instructs, his eyes glittering and you shiver as you feel his breath against your swollen folds. You squeak as he pushes your folds apart with his nose, inhaling your scent, his eyes growing dark with lust. “You smell delicious. I always wondered. Had to stop myself from sniffing my gloves after you climaxed. Not professional you know.” 
The musky tang of your pussy fills his senses, and his tongue darts out and dips into your slit, finding the swollen bud and licking it with just the right pressure that makes your toes curl and stars pop into your vision. 
Your hand rests on his head, tugging his beautiful dark locks, his name falling from your lips without barriers. Your hips rock against him, moaning, then let a sob as his lips suction around your clit. His fingers, free from the gloves at last, probe your entrance, scissoring inside to prepare you for what was to come before they curl up into that gummy patch that he knew too well. 
The sensations flood you, and the sheer knowledge of knowing you had Zayne touching you this way, unbound by the usual rules was sending you into a frenzy. Incoherent noises leave your mouth, crying out hotly as he teases the orgasm from you, your body shivering from the intensity. 
He wipes his mouth on the back of his hand and takes in your appearance, so soft and satisfied on his table, a dreamy look in your eyes.
“Are you prepared for the after?” he asks, you nod, more than eager to experience him. A sly smile crosses his face before he reaches over into the little chest of drawers by the table and pulls out a condom. 
“Hospitals have free condoms. It would be impractical to not use one when it’s on hand.” He explains seeing your questioning look and stands to undo his pants. You watch curiously as his cock is finally freed, eyes widening as it faces you, so impressive and veiny, standing proudly with a slight curve in its length. His pubes were neatly trimmed at the base, ebony curls visible behind the shaft. As he starts to roll on the condom, you feel your whole body heating up in anticipation. 
He leans down to kiss you before taking your feet and resting them on his shoulders, his cock at the perfect angle to enter you. As he sinks into your welcoming heat, you let out a sigh of longing, feeling the delicious stretch of muscle as he pushes up inside you, gasping as you feel his full length sheathe itself. As he bottoms out, his eyes close in bliss, hardly daring to believe that after all this time, he is finally getting to fulfill this private dream. 
Each stroke has him brushing against your gspot and kissing your cervix as he paces himself, feeling the primal urge to take you roughly and selfishly calling at his self-control. A growl leaves his throat as you whimper, straining towards him as the both of you struggle to keep a grip on reality. He feels the seductive way your walls clench around him, hears the soft noises you make, sees your face contort in pleasure with every roll of his hips. 
“Oh you feel so good,” he pants hotly, glasses askew, almost at the tip of his nose as he thrusts. “Clenching me so needily. Gonna milk me dry.”
Your response is a shuddering whimper, your back arching greedily to feel all of him, creating the perfect curvature to brush your clit against the base of his erection with each push of his hips. He feels the little bud on his heated skin, your combined fluids dripping onto his shaft, slickening the bundle of nerves with each stroke. 
“Be a good girl and cum on my cock the way you do on my fingers.” Zayne’s voice is husky as he tries to hold on, damned if he came before you. “I know you want to. I can feel the way your walls are spasming. They always do this pattern before you orgasm.”
The fact that he had memorized this knowledge of you was too much and you let go, your voice filling the room as you climax. Zayne’s hips stutter as he feels you around his length, pussy fluttering so him. His pace quickens, the sound of slapping skin becoming more and more urgent, his balls hitting your ass each time as he chases his orgasm. 
A shiver passes through his body as it happens and he buries himself in your warmth. You hum in satisfaction as you feel his cock twitch and pulse inside you as he spills his load. He pants, sweat on his forehead as he bends down to kiss you again, carefully lowering your legs which burn from the stretch as they settle on the stirrups. 
Threading your fingers through his hair, you brush your noses together, smiling shyly at him as he smirks, his eyes closing as he catches his breath.
“Can I see you outside of my office sometime?” he asks and you laugh at the invitation. 
“Are you asking me out on a date after having sex just once?” you tease as he grips the base of the condom and slides out, your pussy feeling the loss keenly. 
“I have been wanting to for a while. I was just wondering if I was misreading the signals. But I think I have a solid answer now.” He helps you sit up and cradles your body against his, idly stroking your skin, before gently removing the sensors off your body. 
“Let’s get dressed,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead after a moment of cozy silence, and the both of you hunt down your clothes. As he fixes his tie, Zayne passes by his computer and lets out an amused huff. 
“Something funny?” you ask as you button your blouse.
“The sensors definitely gave enough information to make anyone’s head spin.” You walk over and snort as you see the window, full of sharp spikes. 
“Well, at least I am guaranteed you had a good time.” Zayne’s eyes sparkle mischievously as he pulls you in for another kiss. 
“I’m not changing my doctor,” you reassure him as you pull away. There’s amusement in his gaze when he replies. 
“Oh, definitely not. I think if the Hunter’s Association ever sees this record, they’ll heavily advise you to remain with the same healthcare professional.” 
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© nanamiscocksleeve original work | no copying, plagiarizing or translating support banner by @/ cafekitsune @theimmortalbuns @otomegamesforlife @sweets-kozume @actuallysaiyan
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yuujispinkhair · 4 months ago
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CollegeBoy!Sukuna accidentally knocking you up – Part 2 B
-> Option B: "Let's have a baby!"
You can read Part 1 here.
I decided to write two different versions of Part 2 (both are comforting). Option A: The Reader has an abortion Option B: The Reader decides to have the baby(s).
Modern!Sukuna x Reader (female). Fluff + Smut. 18+. Light angst with a happy end. 7K words. Unplanned pregnancy, Reader decides to have the baby. There's a short moment of worry during the pregnancy, but nothing bad happens. Pregnancy sex, praise, slight lactation kink. All characters are of age. Minors don't interact. Divider@/plutism + dollsciples + benkeibear
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The first night after finding out your college sweetheart accidentally knocked you up is a sleepless one for you. You're lying in Sukuna's arms, staring at the wall while your mind whirls, refusing to let you find any rest. You are grateful that Sukuna is here. At first, you had tried weakly to tell him that you wouldn't be mad if he needed some time to himself. But he just huffed and rolled his pretty eyes before pulling his t-shirt over his head and dropping it to the floor before his hands went to his jeans, unbuttoning them and pushing them down while telling you in that low, stern voice,
"You think I am going to leave you alone after this? Absolutely not. Now get your pretty ass into bed, princess. I am staying."
And now he is lying behind you, snoring softly against your neck after he, too, struggled to fall asleep for over an hour. And you can't help but snuggle against Sukuna's warm, muscular body. His presence is reassuring, and his strong body and soft breath on your neck stop you from spiraling, even though you still can't find any rest.
You are busy making a pro and con list in your mind. Could you really make it work if you decide to have the baby? Could you handle going to college and being a mom? Wouldn't an abortion be the more sensible thing to do? On the other hand, would you be ok with the what-ifs haunting you after deciding against the baby? It's the most challenging decision you've ever had to make.
But if you are honest with yourself, your heart already knows what it wants.
The idea of having your own little family with Sukuna makes you smile. The mental image of Sukuna going to class with your little one in a baby carrier won't leave your mind. And you tear up a little when you imagine how sweet a life like that could be.
But you try to give your head a chance, too. It's not hard to find reasons why you shouldn't have a baby at this stage of life. Yet, any argument that speaks against a baby also leads to an excuse as to why it can still work. And after all, you know you won't be alone. Because there is Sukuna. Sukuna, who didn't run when he found out he knocked you up. Sukuna who told you he will support you no matter what you decide. Sukuna, who told you he will make sure you and the baby have it good if you choose to have it.
And now, one of his large hands is resting on your belly, long fingers sprawling possessively and lovingly over it, and it's a touch that fills you with longing. It's a touch that makes you see a future in which you and Sukuna are young parents and live together in domestic bliss.
It's that thought that finally makes you drift off to sleep, too.
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"Kuna?"
You gnaw on your lip nervously as you turn around in your boyfriend's arms and look at him, about to tell him your decision. Sleepy maroon eyes meet yours, and a lazy smirk spreads over Sukuna's tattooed face.
"Hmm?"
You always love how soft he looks right after waking up, with his pink hair ruffled and his voice even lower than usual, his gaze unguarded and warm. You reach down to take one of his large hands in yours, holding it with both of your smaller hands as you say the words that will change your and Sukuna's life forever,
"I think I want to have the baby."
It's, at the same time, the most terrifying and most beautiful thing you ever said. You gulp nervously, watching Sukuna's face carefully. He blinks, and the smirk vanishes from his face. Instead, he looks at you with a serious expression in his beautiful maroon eyes. He nods, never breaking eye contact as he says,
"Then we'll be a family from now on."
You still stare at him with wide eyes, clutching his hand tightly, and Sukuna laughs softly, leaning closer to nuzzle his nose against your forehead,
"Hey, don't look so worried, princess. I meant everything I said yesterday. Every word. I won't run. We'll make this work. You and our baby will have it good. I will make sure of that. I love you. I won't leave."
Your heart flutters at the reassurance, and when Sukuna wraps an arm around you, you snuggle against him gratefully, sighing softly as you push your face against his warm, buff chest. You can hear his too-fast heartbeat, which gives away how nervous Sukuna is, too. About the pregnancy and the prospect of being a dad at such a young age. But Sukuna doesn't show it. You know he is being strong for you, so he can be your safe place. It makes you press a tender kiss to one of the tattoos on his naked chest while mumbling a soft, "I love you, too."
You believe Sukuna when he says the two of you can make it work. You have a feeling that with Sukuna by your side, you can do anything.
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You get an official pregnancy test done at your doctor's office only two days later, followed by the first ultrasound examination, which you come out of with ringing ears after your doctor beamed at you and congratulated you on a twin pregnancy.
You walk over to Sukuna, who is waiting for you in the waiting room and wordlessly press the ultrasound picture against his chest. You wait a few seconds, barely able to keep silent while Sukuna examines the small picture with narrowed eyes until he finally is like,
"What am I supposed to see here? Wait a moment...why are there two?"
And you burst out laughing, looking at him, unable to stop grinning as the realization settles over Sukuna's face, and the corners of his mouth twitch until he bursts out laughing too,
"I should have known! Of course, I knocked you up with twins!"
There's a certain pride in his voice, and it makes you laugh even more. The first shock of finding out that you will have not only one but two babies to look after is lessened by the humor of it all.
Sukuna brings the picture closer to his face,
"Those little peas are supposed to be my children? Did you see how fucking small they are? Well, little ones, you have a lot of growing to do if you want to be as big and strong as your daddy!"
You chuckle and hug him, overcome with emotions at hearing Sukuna talk like that, already so naturally slipping into the role of the soon-to-be daddy.
"I will probably not be able to move at all with your two huge, heavy babies in my belly. Why do you have to be so big, Kuna?"
Sukuna flashes you a proud grin while wrapping an arm around you and pulling you closer,
"Oh, don't act like you aren't crazily into it. And yeah, us Itadoris are big babies, so you better be prepared."
You open your mouth to whine, but Sukuna places a finger on your lips, smirking at you,
"Stop complaining, princess. You know that you have me. I'll make sure to feed you well when my brats make you hungry. And I'll get you everything you need. We both know that you won't have to lift a single finger."
You know he is right, and he already proves it to you when you get home again, and Sukuna gently pushes you onto the couch, telling you that you have to rest.
"I'm gonna make lunch now, and no, you aren't allowed to help! Be a good girl and just chill."
And so you sit there, with a hand lightly rubbing your belly, the ultrasound picture lying next to you, looking at the TV that is showing some game show. But you don't really register what is happening on the screen because you are too busy getting accustomed to the fact that you are really going to be a mom.
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As the weeks pass, a small bump begins to show on your belly, and neither you nor Sukuna can stop touching it and staring at it in fascination. It still feels unreal that there are supposedly really two babies growing inside you. The little pea-sized spots you could see on the first ultrasound didn't look like little humans at all. But the small bulge tells you that there is truly something happening inside your belly.
You have several doctor's appointments, and Sukuna drives you to all of them. He always comes up with you to the waiting room and sits there, holding your hand, a reassuring presence by your side. He always lets you know he is there for you. That he isn't running from the responsibility.
Your doctor informs you that you can bring your partner with you to the next ultrasound so he can see the babies, too, if he wants, and when you tell Sukuna about it, he agrees immediately.
"Of course, I'm coming with you! I need to see what my brats are doing."
It makes your chest feel warm. Sukuna isn't just enduring all of this. He doesn't just play the dad because he feels like he has to. He is truly interested in your little family, which is growing in your belly.
You can tell that Sukuna is nervous on the day of the ultrasound. You catch him patting the pocket of his leather jacket as if to grab his cigarettes, only to let his hand drop again when he remembers that he threw all of his cigarettes away on the day you told him you wanted to have the babies.
It's cute to see your tall, muscular boyfriend with his piercings and intimidating-looking tattoos, sitting in the waiting room, playing nervously with his tongue piercing and grabbing your hand so tightly that it's a bit painful.
He is playing it cool in front of the doctor, though, his usual arrogant smirk perfectly in place. Joking around and oozing confidence. Until the screen fills with the ultrasound images, and Sukuna suddenly becomes completely silent.
The "peas" have grown quite a bit and they actually resemble tiny human beings with small arms and legs. Even though you can't feel it yet, they move around wildly, doing somersaults as if to show their daddy that they are just as athletic as he is.
You turn your head to look at Sukuna, and your heart clenches when you see the thunderstruck expression on his tattooed face. He stares at the screen in awe while his lips tremble ever so slightly.
You reach out to touch his arm, gently caressing his tattooed biceps, and Sukuna looks at you with his maroon eyes glittering suspiciously. Your bad boy who always acts so tough, but here he is fighting tears upon seeing his babies in action for the first time on a flickering ultrasound screen.
It makes tears well up in your eyes, too, your chest filling with almost overwhelming love. And suddenly, everything feels even more real. This is really happening! You are having Sukuna's babies! Sukuna and you will be parents!
And as if he read your mind, Sukuna's low voice is in your ear suddenly, sounding solemn and shocked and in complete awe,
"Those are our little brats."
You can only nod wildly in response as tears glitter in your eyes.
The two (or four) of you leave the doctor's office in a daze. Sukuna's arm is wrapped tightly around your waist, and you feel him pull you closer to his tall body anytime you walk past someone, protecting you from any possible danger. Sukuna even drives much slower than usual. It makes you smile to yourself, filled with love and gratitude for the man by your side.
The man who didn't run, the man who took responsibility, the man who turns to look at you at a red light with his eyes full of love.
Sukuna parks in front of your apartment and sprints to your side of the car to open the door for you and offer you a strong arm. He doesn't leave your side all the way to your apartment, making sure you won't fall on the stairs or slip in the hallway. And you can't help but grin to yourself. It makes your body buzz with excitement, knowing this tall, strong man is so protective over you and the babies that are growing in your belly. His babies.
Somehow, it makes Sukuna even more attractive, even though you never thought he could get any hotter than he already is. It makes you lean against him and smile toothily up at him once you enter your apartment. You put your hands on Sukuna's defined pecs, feeling him up through his thin t-shirt as you get on your tiptoes to kiss him sweetly. Murmuring against his lips,
"You're already such a good daddy."
Sukuna laughs and pulls you closer, smirking his sexy smirk against your lips before he pushes his tongue into your mouth, kissing you thoroughly before he carefully picks you up princess style to carry you to the bedroom and continue what you started.
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"Oh my god, what!? I am going to be an uncle?"
You are convinced the whole dorm hears Yuuji's excited scream as he pulls his brother into a bone-crushing hug, and Sukuna's low laughter fills the room.
You smile as you watch the brothers high-fiving each other and grinning like two madmen. Sukuna announced the big news to Yuuji in his usually blunt manner. He pulled you against his side and put one large hand over your belly while smirking at his brother and telling him,
"You'll soon have serious competition for the title of Biggest Itadori Brat. We're pregnant with twins. Two boys, just like you and me."
By now, Yuuji has let go of his brother and comes over to you, smiling from ear to ear and telling you how happy he is for you and Sukuna. There is no sign of disapproval or judgment, only genuine joy. And it makes relief wash over you. You hope that more people will react nicely once your baby bump is big enough so you won't be able to hide your pregnancy anymore.
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You once heard someone say that no pregnancy goes by without a big scare.
And you get your scare when you get up one morning to use the toilet only to discover a bloodstain in your panties.
"K... Kuna..."
You say his name instinctively, needing him by your side as the fear makes your pulse race. And Sukuna is by your side in lightspeed, running into the bathroom only wearing his boxer briefs, hair messy and ruffled from sleep, with wide eyes and worry written all over his handsome face.
"What's wrong, baby?"
Your voice trembles when you explain,
"There is... there is blood."
The first tears run down your cheeks as you press a hand over your mouth. You are scared out of your mind. Scared that this means you lost the babies. Scared that something went wrong, and now your happy little family will never be.
You almost scream at the irony. This pregnancy wasn't planned. Not so long ago, you contemplated getting an abortion. But now, the thought of losing your babies makes you spiral!
It's Sukuna's low voice that pulls you out of the panic attack.
"Don't worry too much, princess. It's not a lot of blood, ok? We'll get it checked. But I am sure it's nothing bad. Come here, sweetheart."
He gently pulls you into his arms, holding you tightly while his lips press little soothing kisses to your temple and cheek. So surprisingly soft for a guy with such a bad boy reputation.
You can tell by Sukuna's posture and the tenseness in his muscles that he is worried, too, but he stays strong for you, and that is exactly what you need at that moment. He is your big, strong boyfriend, someone you can lean on and who knows what to do because he always knows everything.
Sukuna is gentle with you. He helps you get dressed and carefully carries you down to his car. He talks to you on the whole drive to the hospital to distract you. He stays by your side when you are told to take a seat in the waiting area, holding your hand the whole time until a nurse picks you up and leads you to an examination room. The last thing you see before turning the corner is Sukuna's soft, reassuring smile, even while his wide gaze gives away how scared he is, too.
Ten minutes later, you return to Sukuna with a relieved smile on your lips. You can see the breath he lets out, the way the tenseness leaves his broad shoulders and the way his hands unclench.
"The babies are fine. They were as active as ever. The doctor said everything is as it should be. The bleeding could have been caused by all kinds of things, but it's nothing bad. I should just try to avoid stress and rest a bit more."
And Sukuna wraps you in his strong arms, hugging you a bit too tightly, clinging to you as you feel him exhale shakily.
"I'm glad the three of you are fine. Promise me you will really rest more."
"Of course I will. I want the babies, too, Kuna. I won't do anything that could put them at risk."
To your surprise, you feel Sukuna tense up again, and then he pulls away just enough to look at you with a scowl on his beautiful face and worry in his eyes,
"I am not just worried about the babies. I am worried about you, too. Always about you. Fuck, I love you. I need you to take good care of yourself. I can't lose you, princess!"
And you almost melt into a puddle right then and there, feeling tears well up in your eyes again, this time because you are so touched, and so relieved, and so in love with the boy in front of you.
"I love you too. Thank you for being there for me, baby."
"Always, princess."
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Your belly is constantly growing, and by now, you aren't able to hide your pregnancy anymore. You get several curious glances on campus. Some people approach you directly. Others whisper when you walk past.
But those whispers stop the moment Sukuna joins your side, walking next to you like some bodyguard, one strong, tattooed arm casually thrown over your shoulder. He leans down to kiss your temple while his cat-like maroon eyes watch the people in the hallway, smirking his most dangerous smirk at them, daring them to make a mean comment and suffer the consequences.
Sukuna places one large hand on your swollen belly, sprawling his tattooed fingers possessively over it as he sneers at the group of girls who are known to be the biggest gossips of the whole campus,
"Those babies are mine. You can let everyone know that. And if anyone has a problem with it, they can come to me and say it to my face."
And you can't help but laugh and lift your head proudly, too, grinning from ear to ear, glad that you are dating the campus bad boy and won't have to endure any bullying because you managed to get knocked up by your college sweetheart. No one dares make any snide comments after finding out who the father of your babies is
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You're sitting on the couch reading a book when there's a sudden movement in your belly. You gasp and stare at your baby bump.
"Oh my god, Kuna! Come quick!"
Your loud squeal is one of excitement this time, but there is still alarm written all over Sukuna's tattooed face when he hurries into the living room, cooking spoon still in his hand,
"Fuck! What's wrong?"
But you are quick to chase his worry away, meeting him halfway, walking toward him with a broad smile on your face and your hands cupping your swollen belly.
"It's the twins! I can feel them move! Come here so you can feel them, too!"
And Sukuna looks at you with wide eyes, dropping the spoon he was holding and rushing over to you. He stops in front of you, his gaze traveling down to your baby bump.
You laugh and grab his large hands, placing them firmly on your swollen belly. It takes barely a second, and then Sukuna's gaze snaps to yours,
"Our little brats are kicking me!"
You giggle and nod,
"Yeah, it's so cool, right? I just hope they won't get too wild."
And Sukuna grins and looks at you with an amused and super proud sparkle in his maroon eyes,
"Oh, I know they will be wild. Don't get your hopes up, princess. They are strong, just like their daddy. Right, my little gremlins?"
Sukuna's voice is amused but also tender, making your heart feel full. You know that he already loves his little ones. You can hear it in his voice and see it in the soft look on his face.
Sukuna drops to his knees right in front of you, hugging you and resting his head gently against your baby bump, a tender smile on his face.
A display of such pure devotion and love that it makes you tear up a bit. Sukuna grins as he pulls up your shirt, and then he presses two soft lingering kisses onto your swollen belly. You can feel his smile against your skin just a second before you feel another strong kick from one of the twins, or maybe both of them. As if they want to greet their daddy and show him how strong they already are.
Sukuna laughs, putting his hands on your belly again, grinning as he feels his sons move around,
"Hey, listen up, little brats. Daddy is proud of you for being such strong ones, but be nice to your mommy, ok? Don't kick her too much."
You chuckle and put a hand on Sukuna's head, gently petting his pink hair and running your fingers through the silky strands as you smile down at him. You are sure that you must have heart eyes because Sukuna looks so good kneeling before you, hugging you, and kissing your baby bump while talking to his babies in your belly.
Every last sliver of doubt you might have ever had about this pregnancy dissolves at that moment as you watch your man being so loving and cute. So excited about the development of your babies.
He grins up at you, that boyish grin that always gives you butterflies, and you catch yourself thinking that you really hope your little boys will have the same grin one day.
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Of course, you heard about pregnancy cravings, but you couldn't imagine how intense that would be. Now you know it.
You're having a lazy evening on the couch, watching TV with Sukuna, when a commercial for a specific yogurt starts playing, and suddenly, it is all you can think about. You need that yogurt! Right now!
You whine about it like some five-year-old, and Sukuna laughs and pulls out his phone, filming you, telling you that he always wants to remember these epic moments of your pregnancy lunacy. And you huff dramatically and roll your eyes at him and hit his biceps playfully while pouting at him,
"But Kuna, please. You want your babies to become big and strong, right? I am sure they need dairy products right now, and that's why I crave that yogurt! It's them! It's your twins! They make me want that yogurt so bad! Please get it for me, baby, will you?"
You bat your lashes at him, and Sukuna grins at you, reaching out to cup your chin and gently press your cheeks together. His grin grows as he slowly leans closer.
"Stop it, princess. You already know full well that I will buy you that fucking yogurt. If my girl wants that yogurt, she will get that yogurt."
He presses a quick kiss to your pouty lips before he gets up from the couch and is on his way to the door. He looks over his broad shoulders, winking at you. And a second later, your boyfriend is already out the door on his mission to get you all the yogurt you crave.
He returns 20 minutes later, carrying a whole pallet of the desired yogurt, walking toward you with a proud expression on his handsome tattooed face.
"See, princess. You have me to get you everything you need. Now give me a kiss, and I will give you a yogurt."
Sukuna grins that beautiful boyish grin at you, his eyes filled with warmth and tenderness, and you laugh and grab his jaw, giving him a loud, wet smack on his tattooed cheek and then a sweet, slow kiss on his lips.
"Thank you, baby. You are the best."
And you feel him smile against your lips as his large hand cups the back of your head to hold you in place so he can kiss you some more before you can pull away to indulge in your newfound yogurt addiction.
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You catch Sukuna standing in the twins' room in your new apartment, paintbrush in hand, his naked chest heaving, sweat mingling with the paint stains on his skin next to the tattoos adorning his muscular body. And it's one of the sexiest sights you have ever seen. Your man building a nest for your babies.
Money is tight, so you could only afford an old and rather shabby apartment. But Sukuna is very determined to turn it into a nice home for his little family. He told you that you don't need to hire any professional craftsmen. Sukuna will do it all by himself (and with the help of his brother). He will make sure you and your babies have a clean and pretty place to live in!
And he keeps his word.
Only a short time later, the apartment is ready to move into, and it looks amazing. A cozy little place for you and Sukuna and your little boys.
Living together with Sukuna feels incredibly nice. You have already been spending all your time together ever since you were pregnant, but knowing that you are actually living together now makes things feel different. Sweeter somehow. Domestic. Just like you dreamed it would be.
This is Sukuna's and your place. Your shared home. It is where you will raise your babies, where you will laugh and cry, eat together, make love, and celebrate the twins' birthdays.
Sukuna's favorite part of the apartment is the kitchen. He spends a lot of time in there, cooking and baking for you, claiming that he needs to feed you well so you get all the nutrients you need right now.
He is stern when it comes to your health, watching you with hawk eyes when you eat and shaking his head when you push some food to the side,
"Uh uh. I looked it up, princess. Those are essential during pregnancy. You will eat them."
As annoying as it can be, you can't be mad at Sukuna. He is just trying his best to take good care of you, after all. And in the end, you always hug him and kiss him and tell him he is the sweetest, which makes Sukuna look very pleased while he announces,
"My girl will always have it good with me."
He is right, and you are very happy about it. Sukuna is super protective of you, even more so now that you are pregnant with his babies. He doesn't let you lift a single finger, insisting that you aren't to carry anything heavy and that you shouldn't do the laundry or clean the apartment.
You laugh when you come home from class and find Sukuna and Yuuji deep cleaning the kitchen together, both sweaty and bitching at each other but motivated like hell to get everything shiny and clean.
"Brat, you missed a spot there! Get your lazy ass up and keep scrubbing my fucking sink! This is for your nephews, you little shit! You don't want them to get all kinds of infections, do you?"
"No, of course not! But Kuna! Grandpa never had a clean house, and you and I lived too! You are such an asshole, oh my god!"
You clap a hand over your mouth to stifle your laughter, feeling bad for Yuuji but also filled with love at seeing Sukuna so aggressively motivated about your domestic life. So eager to prepare everything for the twins.
Sukuna is a good man for you. Tough on the outside but caring on the inside. And you already know that he will be a wonderful father.
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Your pregnancy progresses without any complications. But you are not immune to the emotional rollercoaster of the pregnancy hormones raging in your body. You cry more easily, sometimes without even really knowing why. You get anxious over the smallest things. And sometimes, everything is too much, and self-doubts fill your mind.
It's those moments that make you suddenly cry and hug yourself, unable to regulate your emotions, hiccuping from all the tears,
"I can't do this! I have no idea how any of this works! I suck at everything I do! I will be such a terrible mom!"
But Sukuna is there for you each and every time, catching you anytime you fall. He wraps you in his strong arms, comforts you, pulls you against his muscular body, and lets you use his broad chest as your pillow, not caring at all that your tears and snot soak his t-shirt. He strokes your hair soothingly, cuddles you, and talks to you in that low, velvety voice. All soft and sweet, murmuring reassurance to you while he pets your hair,
"Shhh, it's ok, baby. You can do it. You'll be an amazing mommy. And even on the days when you can't do it, there will still be me who can do it for you. I won't let you down, ever. You aren't alone in this, princess. You will always have me."
It makes you cry even more. But the tears turn into tears of joy, affection, and love. Sukuna is your rock. To everyone else, he may seem like a superficial troublemaker who only wants to have fun, but you know a different side of him. The accidental pregnancy showed you that Sukuna is so much more than meets the eye. You know you can always count on your bad boy with the face tattoos and the pink hair. You know he will keep his word.
You snuggle gratefully against him in those moments, crying until you fall asleep on his chest, feeling safe and loved and knowing that when you wake up a few hours later, things will look better again.
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You talk to your doctor and schedule a planned c-section after seeing how big the twins are already at this point, making you freak out at the thought of trying a natural birth.
Your doctor laughs and tells you that it's no wonder they are big after seeing their daddy, and somehow, it gives you butterflies and makes you smile like an idiot, even as you nod and agree that, yes, Sukuna is really tall and big.
When you tell Sukuna the news, he is, on the one hand, proud that his brats are growing so healthily and seem to turn out just like him, but on the other hand, he is worried about you.
"I will be with you during the c-section. You better know that, princess."
"Of course, I know that, baby. But I am ok, really. I am not scared of the surgery. I am actually glad I don't have to try pressing those big boys out the natural way!"
You look at Sukuna, and his lips twitch, and then you both burst out laughing at the same time before he pulls you against him and hugs you loosely, careful not to squish your swollen belly too much.
Your baby bump is huge by now. You can't see your feet. You can't bend over. You can't move the way you want to. Your belly is heavy and in the way all the time now, and it's a bit annoying at this point.
But Sukuna always manages to make you feel better about it.
He constantly walks up to you, stands behind you, and reaches around you, cupping your swollen belly with both hands, joking about how it is exactly like the basketball he is used to from practice, only prettier.
And you laugh and complain playfully and turn around in his arms, kissing him while still smiling. And he smirks at you and informs you,
"I told you that you have me to take care of you, princess. Stop whining, and just come to me when you need help. It's really that easy."
He is right.
You tell Sukuna you are having trouble putting on your shoes, and Sukuna is instantly by your side. He makes you sit down again, takes your legs into his hands, puts your shoes on for you, and ties the shoelaces.
He is there when you need to pick up something. He is there to do the laundry for you and carry groceries and even your bag when he walks you to your classes. He is there to remind you that you should lie down and rest. And if you don't listen to him, Sukuna can still easily pick you up and just carry you to the bed or couch.
And as much as you are starting to get annoyed by your baby bump and your heavy breasts and swollen face and legs, Sukuna absolutely loves your pregnant body.
There are moments when you are close to tears and feel insecure about your new body shape, missing the way you used to look before, but Sukuna won't let you talk yourself down. He leaves no doubt about how attracted he is to you.
"Stop it, baby. You are so fucking sexy. You think you don't make my dick hard anymore? I'll show you how wrong you are about that, princess."
He walks up to you, making you gulp hard when you feel him stop behind you, his husky voice in your ear, hot breath on your neck sending shivers down your spine.
He presses his tall body against you while his large hands wander lovingly over your body, cupping your plump breasts, caressing your swollen belly, squeezing your squishy hips and thighs while hot, wet kisses trail up and down your neck and Sukuna rubs his rock-hard erection against your back, letting you feel how hard you still make him.
"If you weren't already round and swollen with my twins, I would fuck a baby into you right this second. But just because I can't knock you up again right now doesn't mean I can't fuck you."
Sukuna is careful to put you in positions that are comfortable for you and won't hurt the babies. And his thrusts are a bit gentler than usual, but his hips still roll against you with that perfect, sexy pace, dicking you down so good that it makes you sob his name and forget all about the insecurities you felt earlier.
You are lying on your side, and Sukuna is spooning you, fucking you from behind with those slow, deep strokes that make your head spin. His strong arms are wrapped tightly around your body, his hands squeezing your breasts, and he growls in your ear when a few droplets of milk already spill from your swollen tits.
You mewl when Sukuna doesn't wipe his hands on the sheets but licks your sticky milk off his fingers, groaning as if it's a sweet treat, telling you how good you taste.
He flicks his thumb over your puffy clit, making you scream with how good and intense everything feels with the pregnancy hormones and the increased blood flow in your body. Forgetting all about the insecurities you felt earlier as you give yourself to Sukuna and let him worship your pregnant body.
One of his hands is holding your swollen belly, while the other is between your thighs, spoiling your pussy with his loving caresses. And all the time, he praises you with that low, sexy voice, telling you how crazy you drive him.
You squeal loudly when your pleasure peaks, and you clench so hard around Sukuna's cock, that you take him with you over the edge, making him groan loudly against your neck while his large hands sprawl over your pregnant belly, holding it firmly as he ruts into you and spills his hot cum into you.
Sukuna is always sweet to you after sex, but even more so now that you are pregnant. You get cleaned, you get cuddled, you get praised, you get offered snacks, which makes you laugh softly and pull Sukuna into a deep kiss, telling him that the only snack you want right now is him.
All of this helps you accept the changes in your body and even appreciate them. Sukuna makes you feel desired and sexy, even when your legs and face are swollen, and your big baby bump makes it impossible for you to move the way you used to.
Sukuna loves your baby bump.
And not just during sex but all the time. He can't keep his hands off it. A large tattooed hand always rests on your swollen belly when you snuggle on the couch together, watching your favorite shows. Or at night, when you lie in bed, and Sukuna hugs you from behind. He even does it in public, proudly showing you and your baby bump off.
It makes you smile, thinking that just a few months ago, you and Sukuna were both freaking out about him accidentally knocking you up, but now you are both so at peace with how things are. Even happy and excited to share this new chapter of your life with each other.
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You are standing in the baby room section of Ikea three weeks before your due date, a hand resting gently on your swollen belly, smiling when you feel your babies' occasional kicks.
Their daddy is busy picking out a changing table while looking completely out of place with his black clothes and intimidating-looking tattoos amidst all the white and pastel-colored furniture surrounding him.
He is sticking his tongue out in concentration, his tongue piercing glittering in the artificial light as he takes measurements with a measuring tape to determine which changing table fits better into the kid's room. And your chest fills with warmth as you watch him.
He is so focused, so invested. This is important to him. Your babies are important to him. You are important to him.
Before you even know it, you are standing behind Sukuna and wrap your arms around him, hugging him and snuggling against his broad back, at least as much as your huge baby bump allows.
Sukuna looks over his shoulder with that boyish grin on his tattooed face, looking so good that the sensation of your babies kicking you isn't the only fluttery feeling in your stomach.
"Do you want the blue changing mat or the yellow one, princess?"
You chuckle, unable to stop the broad smile spreading over your face,
"You are so sexy, daddy."
Sukuna's smirk grows bigger, and he lifts one eyebrow,
"You think this is sexy? Just wait until you see me giving our brats the bottle or changing their diapers."
"I'll probably faint from all the sexiness!"
You both start laughing at the same time. And Sukuna turns around to steal a few kisses before he wraps his strong arms around you and tells you about all the sexy dad things he will do when his brats are here.
And you both laugh as you stand there hugging and joking and flirting in the middle of Ikea, feeling as if you are in your own little bubble. And you kind of are, aren't you? This is your little family. Sukuna and you and the babies in your swollen belly.
And you realize that you can't wait for the little ones to finally be here. You can't wait to finally see Sukuna holding them, carrying them around in his tattooed arms, hearing him sing them to sleep with that sexy low voice, and seeing him be the proud daddy that you know he will be.
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I WANT THAT SEXY DADDY IN MY LIFE AAAHHH 😭💗 This story became so much longer than I thought, but I just couldn't stop writing. I found so much comfort in this whole series. Our fave bad boy becoming all mature and responsible 💗
I hope you enjoyed Option B and that it could make you smile, too!! Thank you so much for all the sweet comments and tags on Part 1 and Option A. It was such a nice journey with y'all!!
Comments and reblogs would be very sweet 💗
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junkissed · 4 months ago
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bad neighbor
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member — neighbor!dino x f reader genre — smut, college au word count— 6.3k synopsis — pros of living next door to a frat house: your neighbor is really really hot. cons of living next door to a frat house: probably everything else. smut warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, fingering, lots of making out, facial (cum on face), semi public sex (hooking up at a party) content warnings — slightly introverted!reader, chan is in college but reader isn't: can be interpreted as older!reader but that's up to you tbh, mentions of weed & alcohol (chan & reader are both sober), cameos from cheol & hoshi hehe notes — thanks again to @onlymingyus for helping me get my brain in order <3 please reblog or send an ask if you enjoyed reading!! it means a lot to me and it helps me continue writing :) i hope you like this fic!
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it's still early in the evening when the music starts.
the sound of voices and cars honking outside your house draws your attention away from the latest episode of your favorite new show. you get up and walk over to the window, peeking out through the curtain at the bright headlights beaming at you.
with a sigh you push the curtain closed again, heading into the kitchen to make yourself a cup of tea. if tonight is like any of the other nights, then it'll be a long time before you fall asleep. hopefully the chamomile will help—is what you tell yourself every time. and every time, it doesn't help.
living in the same neighborhood as the frat houses from the nearby state university was certainly a choice, but the rent in the area was the cheapest in town and you didn't have many options left. with the fall semester coming up fast, every other apartment complex and condo in the city was already rented out. after moving in, you'd quickly discovered why the rent was so cheap: not because the house was in bad condition or because the location was inconvenient, but because of the parties. nearly every fucking night.
you might actually be impressed at how these college kids find the energy to party so often, if you weren’t so fed up with them. every friday and saturday night, and even sometimes during the week, at least one house on your block was throwing some kind of wild party.
by now you'd seen it all: drunk girls throwing up on your lawn, shirtless guys doing keg stands in the middle of the cul-de-sac, people making out literally everywhere. and yes, including that one time on halloween when you found two playboy bunnies having sex with spider-man in your backyard. how they got back there was anybody's guess, but from then on you’d started double and triple checking that your back gate was locked every night. 
tonight, it seemed that the festivities were being hosted at the house across the street. and the man behind it all? none other than lee chan, president of the fraternity and owner of the house.
you'd only officially met him twice, once on the day you'd moved in and once the day after. his red honda had pulled into his driveway at the same time you were unloading your boxes from the u-haul, and he'd jumped out and offered to help carry your furniture inside.
at the time it had felt like this was finally your meet-cute moment, the friendly and unfairly attractive boy-next-door that sweeps you off your feet with love at first sight. but once the final box had been moved, he'd simply given you a smile and a wave and went back inside his house. no cute bonding, no exchanging phone numbers, no asking to see each other again. he just left.
of course, that had been before you found out about the parties, and the shock you were in for that same night when people had started showing up in droves had nearly led you to call the cops. so the next morning you'd put on a nice outfit and went to knock on his door, and it was then that you found out more about the neighborhood you'd found yourself living in.
with the same polite tone he'd used yesterday, he'd been friendly and apologetic for the noise, promising that he'd make sure everyone stayed on his side of the lawn and that no one disturbed you or your house. he'd explained that it wasn't a quiet neighborhood, no matter the time of year, but repeated that if anything happened he would take full responsibility for it. he said that you were welcome to come over any time, whether you needed something or you just wanted in on the fun.
you'd taken his word for it, sheepishly waving goodbye as you crossed the sidewalk between your houses, though you figured you would probably never set foot inside his house while there was a party going on. and as you’d walked away, you had tried to ignore the feeling of your heart fluttering with the beginnings of a crush on your neighbor.
tonight, however, your heart was doing anything but fluttering. music blasted outside, definitely a lot louder than usual, and the sound of car engines revving was already getting on your nerves.
you dunk your tea bag into the boiling water at the same time a loud banging on your door makes you jump, and you narrowly avoid spilling it all over yourself and the counter.
quietly you rush over to the door, looking out the peephole to see a group of people carrying cases of beer, looking around at your front porch.
before you can figure out how to react, you hear someone yell something distantly and the group turns around in the direction of the sound.
"shit, wrong house," one of the guys says loudly. "sorry, whoever lives here! have a good night!" he calls as they walk away, the others laughing over a joke you can't hear. 
with the crisis averted, you head back into the kitchen and pull the tea bag out of your mug, chucking it into the trash with a huff. full responsibility, your ass. 
and then… you have an idea. 
chan had been so insistent that you could come over if you ever needed anything, so you might as well take advantage of his offer. because tonight you did, in fact, need something. you needed the party to not be so goddamn loud that you can literally feel your living room floor vibrating beneath your feet.
you stick your mug in the microwave to reheat later and quickly change out of your pajamas and into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. presentable enough that you don’t embarrass yourself, yet comfortable enough that you don’t feel so awkward.
with a deep breath, you pull open your front door, keys tightly in hand as you lock it behind you and start making your way across the street.
you're almost at chan’s front door when a man steps in front of you out of nowhere, stopping you short. "hey, here for the party?" he asks, holding up his hand for a high-five.
"um… kinda," you say, lightly tapping his hand. you figure he must be the bouncer of some sort, from his friendly yet confident no-nonsense attitude and the way his thick biceps strain against the sleeves of his t-shirt. "i'm looking for lee chan, he owns the house?"
"gotcha," he nods. "gotta check your age before i let you in, though."
you pause, his words sinking in as you realize why he's asking. "oh, sorry, i didn't think i'd need my id," you apologize. "but i live next door, my driver's license is just in my wallet, i can go grab—"
"are you over 21?" he interrupts, and you frown at the question.
"uh, yes?"
"cool. head on in, then," he says.
you look at him suspiciously. "you're sure you don't need to see my id? what if i was lying?"
"dino will probably be downstairs, his room is the door at the end of the hallway on the left," he says, pointedly ignoring your questions. "and while you're down there, tell him cheol sent you. ask him to grab another beer for me."
he waves towards the open front door, and hesitantly you make your way inside. you have no idea who the hell dino is, and you can only hope it's just a nickname of some kind and the man you're about to go find isn't some stranger.
the second you set foot inside the doorway, it's like entering a completely different world. the air is stale and humid, clinging to your skin as you push through a crowd of what must be hundreds of people packed like sardines into every corner of the room.
the music gets louder the further inside the house you go, and you have to focus on repeating cheol's instructions in your head so you don’t get lost in the maze of hallways and doors. downstairs, end of the hallway, left. 
you soon find out where the music is coming from. unlike the normal house lights on the first floor, downstairs everything is dark except for colorful flashing led lights around the room. a man stands on top of a table between two huge speakers as people crowd around him, jumping and shouting lyrics to the song that’s playing.
there’s so many people that you have to push your way through the crowd, but most of the people around you either don’t notice or are too drunk to care. but finally, you make it to what looks like the hallway that the man outside—what was his name, cheol?—told you about.
you open the first door on your left and find four people sat quietly on the floor passing around a bong, a thick cloud of smoke hanging over the room. all four of them look over at you at the same time, glazed eyes silently asking who the hell are you?.
"sorry, wrong room," you squeak, slamming the door and retreating back into the hallway as you try your best not to step on anyone's feet.
with a deep breath you crack open the door directly beside the one you'd just opened and poke your head inside, and relief washes over you when you see chan inside.
he's sitting on a couch with a couple girls sitting next to him and a guy slumped against his shoulder, eyes closed and brows furrowed.
he looks up when the door opens, and a look of shock spreads over his face when he recognizes you. he calls your name and you step inside tentatively, saying his name in response. "chan?"
"close the door behind you," he says, and you jump to turn around and shut it with a click. he must notice you standing like a deer in headlights, because he motions you closer to him with a friendly smile. "sorry," he explains. "people will think it's an open room if you leave the door open. i don't want anybody in here without a reason to be."
you nod, but your eyes dart over at the girls sitting beside chan. he makes eye contact with them and clears his throat, and without a word they stand up, understanding the message.
he helps the man laying against him sit up, then helps him stand up and hands him off to the others. "don't let hoshi drink anything else tonight except water, okay? keep an eye on him until your driver shows up."
they nod and slip their arms around their friend, helping him stumble out of the room as he grumbles about something incoherent. "thanks, dino," one of them says with a little wave. "see you monday for that bio test."
the girls open and shut the door quickly, suddenly leaving you alone with him in the room.
"hi," you start, not knowing what else to say. it's been such an ordeal just trying to find him that you've almost forgotten why you came searching for him in the first place.
"hi," he repeats with a laugh. "honestly, i never thought i'd see you here. you don't seem like the type. so, what brings you over tonight?"
"you've only met me twice, how would you know what i seem like?" you reply defensively, thought he's spot on. this is not your usual scene at all, and you’re sure that anyone at this party who’s even a smidge sober must be able to tell how out of place you look.
he shrugs, patting the couch seat next to him. "alright, fair point. come sit down."
you carefully take a seat, purposefully avoiding eye contact with the collection of ambiguous stains on the couch cushions.
"oh, before i forget. somebody named cheol told me to tell you he wants a beer?" you say awkwardly, relaying the message.
"bastard," chan mutters, but he's smiling, and you assume the guy you met earlier is a friend of his. "fine, i'll grab him something when i go back outside." pausing, he turns his attention back to you. "but really, why are you here? i don't wanna make any assumptions, but i doubt it's for the free alcohol."
"if i was, you'd have to tell me where to find it," you say with a shrug, and he laughs but stays quiet for you to finish.
you fold your hands together nervously. "anyway, i just came over to ask—could you maybe turn the music down, like, just a tiny bit? and also… can you tell people to stop having sex in my yard?"
he winces and gives an apologetic smile. "yeah, of course. sorry about that. i told vernon to keep it down, but you know how he gets when he's…" he stops as if he’s just realized something. "nevermind. i'll go let him know right now. do you wanna come with, or you wanna stay here?"
"no offense, but i'd rather not go back out there," you laugh awkwardly. “it was bad enough just trying to find you in the first place.”
"all good," he replies with that friendly smile of his. "it's not for everyone, that's for sure. just make sure the door stays closed, and you'll be fine in here by yourself. shouldn't take too long."
he opens the door and slips out, slamming it closed behind him. you sit unmoving on the couch, finally glancing at your surroundings.
unlike the first room, the air here is fairly clean, other than the faint smell of alcohol and weed wafting in from under the door. you realize this must be chan's actual bedroom, when you see the posters that cover the walls and the bookshelf full of knick-knacks and textbooks.
you start to wonder who else lives in this house, but soon the door opens again and chan returns, the sound of voices and music flooding in while the door is open but quickly falling quieter once the door is shut again.
"alright, he'll keep it down. i'm sorry about the noise," he apologizes again, but you wave him off, suddenly feeling shy around him. with him still standing and you still sitting, he towers over you in a way that makes the butterflies in your stomach flutter back to life.
"no, it's fine. really, it's not that big of a deal," you rush, trying to ignore the growing feeling in your chest. was he always this hot? for the first time tonight you notice how his blonde hair falls in waves around his face, perfectly framing his soft features.
he shakes his head. "really, i mean it. vernon will make sure it doesn't get out of hand, he’s good at that. i can't exactly give you a quiet evening, but i can give you the best i've got."
you take a deep breath and stand up. you're already way outside of your comfort zone even just coming to this party, but maybe this experience hasn't been all that bad. after all, you got to see chan again, and you got to exchange more than a handful of words with him like you did all the other times you’d met him.
"well… what is the best you've got?" you ask him, and you almost see him raise an eyebrow.
he puts his hands in his back pockets, pausing for a second as he looks at you. "mm, best i've got? probably this room. my room. quietest in the house, and nobody will come in to bother us."
your heart races as you take a small step towards him, standing close to him but still keeping some distance between you.
"so does this mean you're not leaving?" he asks when you don’t say anything, just barely loud enough for you to hear him.
"do you want me to stay?"
he takes a step closer to you. "only if you stay with me."
"do you say that to all the people you bring in here?" your question is joking, but a part of you still worries that he thinks you're just another girl at the party looking for a one night stand. though honestly, you wouldn't even really mind if that's all this was. hell, maybe all the secondhand smoke is getting to your head and clouding your judgement, because hooking up with your neighbor seems like a pretty fantastic idea right now.
"the only time i let people in my room is to let them use my bathroom and to make sure they don't die of alcohol poisoning," he says in a low tone, a little laugh escaping him. "and now, i guess i let my hot neighbor in here, too."
"you think i'm hot?" you ask, taking another small step forward.
he matches your stride, taking one last step towards you so that you're finally standing toe to toe with him. "i'd be an idiot not to."
"but how would you know, if we've only met twice?"
he laughs. "well, you had just moved in. i wasn't gonna hit on you when you hadn't even finished unpacking your furniture yet."
"so you did want to hit on me, then," you say confidently, straightening up a little.
“did i ever say i didn't?” he rests his hands on your hips and gently pulls you towards him, closing the last of the distance between you. his eyes never leave your face, gauging your reaction and looking for any hesitation.
you wrap your arms around him and lean forward, a smile on your lips. "good to know."
he leans in the rest of the way and presses his mouth against yours, and everything else just falls into place. your hands reach up to find his hair, threading your fingers through his blond waves and tugging experimentally, and when he lets out a little noise of pleasure you kiss him harder.
the noise of the party fades into the background as his hands slide down your body to grip your ass, and you can’t help the little moan that escapes as he starts to back you up against the wall. his hands stay put, kneading your ass as you try to keep your legs from giving out already. it’s painfully obvious how bad you want him, but it’s equally obvious how he feels the same way.
“fuck, been dreaming about this since the day you moved in,” chan says, pulling away from you with a shaky breath as your fingers tug at the hem of his t-shirt. 
he pulls it off over his head before leaning over to kiss you again, his tongue tracing over your lips. he’s good at this; not like you’re surprised by it or anything, but it still catches you off guard.
he seems to be able to sense the tiny bit of lingering hesitancy, so he breaks apart from you but still keeps his arms firmly around you, loosening his grip just a little. “is this okay?” he asks in a low voice, but you can hear the concern laced in it.
you nod quickly, tugging your shirt off quickly and letting his hands settle at your hips before you pull him back closer. you never do this. maybe you really had inhaled too much secondhand smoke on the way in and you aren’t thinking straight. but deep down, you know that’s not the case. 
as much as you hate to admit it, your harmless crush on your neighbor has grown into something much, much more. you can’t say you’ve never been a little jealous when you see girls leaving his house on sunday mornings after parties. you can’t say you’ve never let your eyes linger a few seconds too long when he goes out to check the mail and he’s wearing that tight black tank and thin silver chain he never takes off.
or the fact that he works out in his garage with the door open, and you aren’t really purposefully trying to look but it’s not your fault that your window just happened to be open. and it wasn’t your fault that you just happened to look outside and see him shirtless and bench lifting a very large amount and if you were really really quiet you could almost hear him groaning—
he slides his hands down your bare skin, hesitating again at the waistband of your jeans, but you arch your back a little to push yourself closer and he takes the hint. he easily undoes the button with one hand, and you try not to think about how many times he must’ve practiced that in order to get that skilled at it. but that thought is quickly pushed out of your mind when his hand makes its way into your pants, his fingers experimentally sliding down past your underwear and brushing through your folds.
you let out a groan, rolling your hips into his hand encouragingly. you’re already hot and sweaty, standing with your back against the door in just your bra and jeans, but it’s hard to tell if the heat is from the crowded, stuffy house or from something else.
“god, you’re so wet,” he murmurs under his breath almost incredulously as he presses his fingertip against your clit, circling the swollen bud before dipping back down to collect your arousal on his fingers.
you squeeze your thighs together out of instinct, trapping his hand between your legs, and he looks up at you for confirmation. “more,” you whimper, just loud enough to be heard over the music and the noise on the other side of the door. “chan, please.”
he groans and puts more pressure on your clit, starting to rub a little faster and a little messier. he slides his middle and index fingers inside and you let out an involuntary yelp, clenching and bucking your hips in search of more friction. he starts out slow, curling his fingers in a beckoning motion as his other hand massages the bare skin of your waist.
after more of your pleading he finally concedes, sliding his fingers out and wiping them on his stomach, leaving a glistening trail of wetness on his tan skin. he glances back up at you in questioning, but he finds no hesitation in your expression as his hands start to push your pants down your legs and you kick them away, leaving you bare in front of him.
“you sure you're ready?” he pauses to ask one more time, but your quick nod has him jumping back into action in seconds.
he follows hurriedly, stripping out of his pants and shoving his boxers down to free his cock. his length springs up and slaps against his stomach, the tip looking flushed and heavy, and your mind goes blank, replaced only with the thought of him inside you. he holds himself in one hand, lining his cock up at your entrance as you adjust your position in preparation.
you groan as he finally ushes into you, your fingernails digging into the back of his shoulder blades as you struggle to balance.
“feels good?” he mumbles as he lifts your thigh, wrapping your leg securely around his hip. he doesn't move yet, his hips still as he lets you move however you need.
you barely manage to nod in return, keeping your hands firmly planted on his shoulders, slowly but surely adjusting to his size. “god, yes,” you manage, trying to keep your breathing steady. “if i'd have known you felt this good i would've come over way sooner.”
“mm, well. you're welcome over here any time.” he grins at you. his dark eyes get hazier with desire as he holds you firmly against his pelvis. “for any reason you'd like.”
the best response you can come up with is “sure”, barely listening as you start to roll your hips, but you can tell the sincerity in his statement. your attempt at movement doesn't work very well in this position, but chan quickly takes the hint, pulling back and letting his cock slip halfway out before he drives back into you.
the first thrust has you seeing stars already, and you let out a broken moan as he starts to build up his pace. your back slides against the wall as you feel the bass reverberating through your bones, and it only enhances the feeling of his cock dragging against your walls.
“if there weren’t so many people in this house, i’d have you screaming my name right now,” chan huffs against your lips, pulling your body closer and wrapping his arms around you tighter.
“mm, but the music is so loud they probably wouldn’t be able to hear it anyway,” you bite back with a brazen smile. you're feeling bold, the party atmosphere filling you with a cockiness that you don't usually possess. but something about the environment, the fact that you're fucking the hottest person here while hundreds of people rave obliviously outside the door, is a thrill you've never felt before.
he rolls his head back with a groan, and you feel his thrusts suddenly getting harder and deeper. you have to fight to stay standing, using all your energy to keep yourself upright and leaning most of your weight on him, but if he notices it he doesn't let it show. all those push-ups and bench presses that you ogle him doing in his garage must be good for something, from the way he hoists you against the wall and drives his cock into you without even barely breaking a sweat.
“say it, then,” he goads, his fingers digging into the flesh of your thigh as he holds your leg up. “you want to, don't you? you wouldn't have come over here tonight if you didn't.”
the worst part is that you know he's right. your own curiosity is what brought you here tonight, masked by the claims of noise complaints. the noise isn't even really that much of a bother: you could've gone to bed, turned on your fan and played some white noise, and you would've been perfectly fine. but some part of you longs to know what goes on at these parties, to see your devastatingly sexy neighbor in this setting you've never witnessed him in yet. so now that your curiosity has been satisfied, you really have nothing to lose.
“chan! fuck— mmph, yes—” you whine loudly, unintentionally clenching around him as the words fall from your lips. there's no way anyone would hear over the music, and even if they did, there's a high chance they wouldn't care either way. it's just what happens at parties.
his eyes light up at the sound, a moan of his own leaving his mouth as he thrusts into you over and over again, burying his cock as deep as he can go with every stroke. a familiar heat burns in the pit of your stomach at his movements, winding tighter and tighter with each passing second. your walls throb around his length, filling every inch of you until you can't take it anymore.
“chan…” you groan again, pulling him towards you with your leg around his waist. “please, keep going… c-close, i'm close—”
he leans in and presses his lips to yours, swallowing your moans with his eager mouth. “god, please cum for me,” he says breathlessly, pulling away but leaving just enough room for your lips to stay connected by a thin string of spit. “need to feel it, need to feel you. please, baby, fuck…”
he slams into you even harder, driving his cock right up into the spot that makes your knees nearly buckle. you manage to whimper out his name one last time before your lips go slack against his mouth, your eyes squeezing shut as you crash into your climax. the force of his steady, constant thrusts combined with the force of your orgasm leaves your body tingling, every nerve alight from the waves of pleasure pulsing through you.
his movements don't ever slow, but you can see the emotion twisting in his face in reaction as he watches you cum, squeezing around him so warm and wet and perfect that it takes every ounce of his self control not to immediately follow you over the edge.
his eyes bore into yours, watching your face until he's sure you've recovered enough to handle him. he pulls out and keeps his hand firmly wrapped around the base of his cock, jerking himself with tiny flicks of his wrist to keep the momentum going.
immediately you drop to your knees in front of him, tilting your head back to stare up at him between his thighs, your eyes wordlessly pleading with him as your tongue nearly rolls out of your mouth.
“fuck, you're so…,” he groans, keeping his fist tight around his cock with a few final motions. “you're so fucking hot, god, i'm gonna—”
he whines and his hips buck as he spills across your face, thick white ropes landing on your tongue and your cheeks. your smaller hand reaches up to replace his and you take him into your mouth, gagging only slightly as the salty taste fills your mouth. you wrap your lips around him and swallow, letting your tongue swirl around his sensitive head to collect it all until he's finished.
he pulls back and his cock slips from your mouth, leaving you gasping and licking your lips to catch the stray drops of his cum. his voice is low and strained as he reaches out his hand to help you up, his thick biceps flexing as he pulls you to your feet. despite the blissed-out look on his face you can see the guilt in eyes and it makes you pause, wondering if he didn't enjoy it the same way you just did. but it's only another moment before he speaks again, and your short-lived worries are put to rest.
“i'm sorry it was so fast,” he says almost shyly, pulling you over to sit at the edge of his bed. “i can go again if you aren't done yet. or we can do something else… or i could walk you back home. whatever you want, i'm happy to do.”
you expression softens into a grin, still a little hazy but definitely not finished. “oh, i can go again, for sure. i've got all night if you'll let me.”
his eyes crinkle with an eager smile, and you're already spreading your legs to give him space as he falls down onto the bed between them, landing on top of you. his hand cups your chin ans he pulls you into him, his lips finding yours and melting into you with a satisfied hum. his tongue finds its place once again in your mouth, prodding inside as he kisses you with a level of passion and desperation you haven't felt in a long time. 
he groans into the kiss as he tastes himself on your lips, exploring your mouth and the bitter taste he left inside. you feel the vibrations from it in your jaw and down your neck, and it only makes you kiss him harder in an effort to draw out more of those pretty sounds.
"hey, dino, didn't you say you'd bring me a beer? it's so boring standing out there—"
the door opens and you jerk away with a scream, hiding yourself under chan and using the nearest piece of clothing to cover up as someone barges into the room.
"cheol, get the fuck out!" chan shouts, wrapping his arm around you and keeping you pressed tightly against his chest, using his back to shield you from view. "fucking knock next time, dude, you know better!"
"jeez! how should i have known? i thought you said you didn't hook up at parties," cheol mutters as he turns around, slamming the door shut behind him. "i'll get the damn beer myself."
the door slams shut once again, and chan sighs and hangs his head, his forehead leaning against your chest before he reluctantly crawls off of you and crosses the room to lock the door.
“you don’t hook up at parties, huh?”
he turns around to look at you, and you pause to take him in. his hair is messier than it was when you got here, glued to his forehead with sweat and sticking up at odd angles from you tugging on it. his broad chest is tinged red with tiny scratches from your nails, and it makes you want to bite him all over, but you contain yourself for now.
your voice is teasing, but cheol’s words have honestly made you feel a million times lighter. you hadn’t expected to be anything special to chan after tonight; at the very least, you hoped that it wouldn’t be awkward when you see each other, but you’d figured you were just the next in a long line of girls waiting to have their turn with him. for once, you’d never been so happy to be proven wrong.
“i’ll make an exception for the pretty neighbor girl. just this once.”
“oh, so now i'm just pretty. i thought i remembered you saying that i was the hot neighbor girl,” you giggle, watching as he hops on one leg to put his boxers back on.
“two things can be true at once,” he says with a grin as he walks back over to you still lying on his bed. “besides, i still haven't taken you out on a date yet. would be kinda forward of me to call you hot when i haven't even bought you dinner yet.”
you smile at him, trying to fight the warmth burning in your cheeks as you reach up to ruffle your fingers through his soft hair. he lets out a satisfied groan at the feeling, and it gives you an idea.
“do…” you trail off, suddenly unsure, until you see the warmth in chan’s eyes as he lays on top of you and it fills you with confidence again. “do you wanna continue this at my house? i’ve got the quietest room, and nobody will bother us.”
“mm.” he grins at the way you repeat his words from earlier, enamored with your shy yet playful tone. “if we’re at your place, does that mean i get to give you the noise complaint this time?”
“i’ll allow it.” you roll your eyes and pull yourself to sit up. “i need a shower, and i’m sure you would like one, too. plus i have food that hasn't been spilled on the floor or soaked in alcohol.”
he picks your shirt up off the floor and hands it to you with a smile, moving around his room with a quiet confidence you find unbearably hot. “does this mean anything to you, or is this just a tonight thing?” he asks.
you bite at your lip as you shimmy back into your jeans, shaky fingers sliding the button into place as you sit back down on the bed. “it does,” you reply simply. “you did tell me you'd buy me dinner, after all. i'm gonna hold you to that.”
he leans over you, pressing another chaste kiss to your lips. “and i plan on keeping that promise.”
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you stumble your way through the house, squeezing chan’s hand tightly as he pulls you up the stairs, following him towards the door. you're not worried about anyone noticing you anymore: everyone's too wrapped up in their own business to care, including you. the party seems dulled now, the music fading and the people around you becoming blank faces. all you care about is chan, your eyes roving over his broad back muscles that peek through his shirt as you trail behind him. you must look no different than every other drunk college kid here with the giddy smile on your face, but you haven't had a drop of alcohol. it's just the effect he had on you.
finally you make it outside, and the cool night air feels sharp compared to the humidity inside the house. already it seems quieter as you start to walk the distance across the street, moving away from the party and towards the comfort of your own home. chan moves up beside you, wrapping his arm around your waist while you lead the way, but you're stopped once again by the same man from earlier.
“hey,” he greets chan, only sparing half a smirk in your direction but otherwise not bothering you, despite the heat that instantly rises in your cheeks at the fact that you were caught. “did you get my beer?”
“no. you said you were getting it yourself.” he rolls his eyes, and cheol whines and gives him a look that you swear almost looks like a pout. “if anyone asks about me, tell them i'm not home. tell them i had to…” he looks over at you with a cocky grin. “…had to go take care of something. noise complaint.”
cheol groans, making a face. “god, whatever. i don't want the details. but just don't make me stand outside next time. i'm doing you a favor here. i'm supposed to be working on my thesis.”
“sure,” chan replies, but he's still stuck staring at you, barely processing his friend's complaints. “yeah. anyway, i'll catch you tomorrow.”
he tugs gently on your waist and you start walking again, leaving cheol without so much as a goodbye or even a proper introduction. you'll deal with that later, you guess. there’s a lot of things you'll have to deal with, but at least the wild parties your neighbor boyfriend throws won't be one of them anymore.
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highdramas · 2 years ago
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you’re the only friend i need | s.h.
pairing: steve harrington x f!reader warnings: language word count: 4664 summary: having steve harrington as a fake boyfriend proves to have more pros than cons, all things considered. the biggest pro is one that you didn’t even realize until you were in the thick of your fake relationship. notes: if you are under 18 do not interact with my work or this fic. this fic is a continuation off of this request, which is a to all the boy i’ve loved before based steve drabble, and will make a lot more sense if you’ve read that first! ty for reading and enjoying ily alllllll
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having a boyfriend, even if steve was your fake boyfriend, was like a set of constantly evolving circumstances that you never quite knew how to get used to.
the strangest part of it all was the dates.
your one real relationship never even offered the option of dates. with ryan, he had wanted to keep things so secretive... the extent of your “dates” was him sneaking in through your bedroom window and making out on top of the covers. but steve...
steve hadn’t been lying when he told you that if you two were going to be in a fake relationship, he was going to make it worth your while.
within the first week of your arrangement, steve had come to you with a list and furrowed brows. you’d barely gotten into his car before he was examining the list one last time and passing it to you. “okay, these are the ideas i came up with. i know what telling you removes some of the magic, but--”
you both say at the same time, “not real.”
“yeah, so... figured you could take a look at the list, tell me what you’ve already done, and we can skip those. whatever you did with ryan, you know--”
skimming the list, you shrug your shoulders. “i don’t know if we did any of these,” you admit, looking up at steve. “i don’t think that ryan would’ve even been able to come up with a list like this if you put a gun to his head.”
steve scoffs. “well, yeah, ‘course not, because he’s not me. but, not even a fraction? i mean... did he take you to dinner?”
you shake your head.
“ice cream?”
another shake.
“what, the movies? i mean, i’m not even listing off any of the creative things--”
“no, steve!” you exclaim, tossing the list back over to him. “no, he didn’t buy me dinner, or dessert, or take me to the movies! he didn’t do anything, that’s kind of the point.”
a hush falls over the car, and you’ve never felt awkward around steve before-- well, not in the last week, not when you started to really get to know him-- but you feel a little awkward now in his bmw, rubbing your hands on your jeans and wishing that you could just disappear. if you disappeared, maybe you wouldn’t have to deal with this mortification that was settling in your chest. just how pathetic you feel having said everything out loud.
it’s as if steve can see the gears in your head turning, can see you turning in on yourself. “hey, hey...” he turns the key and the car turns off. he unbuckles his seatbelt-- one thing that had surprised you about steve was how safe of a driver he was and how much of a stickler he was when it came to seatbelts and general car safety-- and shifts his body towards you. “i didn’t mean to embarrass you, or make you feel bad.”
“you didn’t embarrass me.”
“regardless,” steve reaches out for your hand, and you think about it for a moment, how you might feel like you gain the upper hand by refusing his, but you eventually relent and take it. your pride isn’t worth more than the comfort that steve provides, even with a simple touch. “i’m sorry.” his hand squeezes yours and his thumb draws a pattern over the back of his hand. it’s these moments where things feel so damn confusing, where your brain knows that this is all fake, but your heart can’t seem to parse the difference. “and, for the record... i know i’ve said it before, but he’s the one who should be embarrassed. i didn’t feel one way or another about him before, but he’s a total dick.”
anyone else and you may believe that they were just telling you what you wanted to hear. but steve has always had this knack about him, and maybe it’s only with you, but you simply don’t believe that he would keep things from you. that he’d be anything but perfectly genuine. maybe that’s naive, maybe that framework of thought will get you hurt one day.
you’re willing to find out.
˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ ˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ ˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ ˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ ˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ ˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ ˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊
steve creates a schedule for your dates. a schedule.
upon the reveal of how little you’d truly been treated in the past, he had quickly snatched the list back up, folded it up nice and neatly, and tucked it away into his pocket. he’d cited that now everything was going to be a surprise.
you go on a date with steve every tuesday and friday. and, at some point, that bled in to saturday’s and sunday’s, too.
(at some point, you end up realizing that you spend more time with steve than without him.)
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DATE IDEA 17: CAMPING
“you really thought that camping would be good for our first fake-date that’s not, like, dinner and a movie?”
steve closes the trunk and slings the tent bag over his shoulder. “i don’t know what you’re talking about. this is still a great idea.”
“isn’t part of the point of all of this is for people to, you know, see us?” you make a dramatic show of looking around, using your hand as a temporary visor, searching high and low for any soul who may feast their eyes upon you with steve harrington. “i don’t see anyone.”
taking a step closer to you, nearly chest to chest, steve peers down at you. “no one’s gonna believe us as a couple if we don’t seem comfortable around each other,” he turns around and trudges towards the plot of land that the camp host had directed you to. “what better way to become comfortable than to share a tent in the middle of nowhere?”
you roll your eyes but follow behind him. he guides you towards the little picnic bench and encourages you to sit on it. “what are you doing?”
“what do you mean?” steve shrugs and grabs a coke from the cooler and hands it to you. “i’m having you sit down while i unpack the car and get the tent set up.”
“but...” your head tilts to the side like there’s a thought bubble forming over your head, trying to understand him. “don’t you want me to help?”
“nope.”
“you don’t want me to help at all?”
“no. not even a little bit.” there’s a cheeky smile on his face. “i want you to sit back, relax, and enjoy the view. maybe if you’re lucky i’ll get a little sweaty.”
you scoff and huff and make to stand up, but steve’s hands go firmly to your shoulders. “i’m serious. let me take care of it. can you do that?” he touches your chin, just the faintest brush of his index finger against it, but it’s practically a lightning strike. when you nod your head, he smiles. there’s something proud there. “good.”
for the record, he does sweat a little bit. and you don’t know what it means that you kinda... like it.
by the time that tent is up, the sleeping bags are rolled out, and the pillows are fluffed, it’s already dusk. steve has built a decent sized fire and has dragged a large log to it, patting his thigh. “c’mon.”
walking up to him, you open your mouth, trying to decide if he’s implying what you think he is. he takes you by the hand and guides you to perch on his thigh, maneuvers your arm to drape across his shoulders. “comfortable?” you nod your head and he pats your leg, the motion far too easy and affectionate for you to brush off. “fuckin’ pretty out here, isn’t it?”
looking around, you can’t help but nod. “it is really pretty. have you been here before?”
“we used to come here every summer. me and my folks, and a few other neighborhood families. it was my favorite part of the summer, every summer. i always wanted to bring someone here.” he squeezes you a little bit. “you should feel honored.”
“i do, actually,” you say to him, and you mean it, deeply from the bottom of your heart. “thanks for bringing me here. and for getting all of this set up, it’s...” you look around, but despite the beauty around, your eyes want nothing more than to settle on steve’s face and stay there. “magical.”
“thanks for letting your fake boyfriend take you out into the woods. with no showers.”
your jaw drops. “you didn’t say--”
his laughter drowns out anything else, his forehead falling to the side of your arm.
you stay out at the fire together until the bugs force you into the tent. slightly chilled from that summer evening cold that serves as a nice break from the heat, you rub your hands over your arms. “cold?” steve asks. before you can even fully nod your head he’s unzipping his duffel and tossing his sweatshirt in your direction. “here.”
looking down at it, your thumb runs along the worn material. you’ve seen him wear it a million times since you’ve known him.
his favorite sweatshirt.
you tug it on over your shirt, and before you can think to open your own bag, there’s a pair of sweatpants in front of you. “steve,” you begin slowly. “you realize i brought my own clothes, right? is this you saying you hate the way i dress? even my pajamas?”
“what? no.” steve shakes his head and begins to shuffle into his own pajamas, and your eye gets caught on the strong chest with the beautiful smattering of dark chest hair. he catches your gaze and smirks a little but doesn’t comment on it, tugging a clean shirt on. “i just...” he shrugs and starts to get into his sleeping bag. “i dunno, you in my clothes is definitely not the worst thing in the world.”
there’s nothing you have to say to that which won’t end in you being a stammering, blushing mess, so you opt for saying nothing. you get into your own sleeping bag and you’ve just clicked off the solar powered light when steve says, “comfortable? warm? need anything?”
“steve,” you place your hand on his chest. “you know that you’re supposed to enjoy our dates too, right? you can’t enjoy them if you’re constantly making sure that i’m enjoying them.”
it’s as if he hadn’t even considered this. as if his entire focus was on you and your happiness. “sorry. i’m not trying to be weird, or make you feel weird.” he rolls over onto his side, nearly nose to nose. “it just pisses me off.”
“what does?”
“that no one ever thought that maybe you would want to do these things. it’s just ridiculous to me.” he licks his lips and his hand flexes. “i won’t keep bringing it up, because i’m sure that’s just as annoying, i just... i want you to feel special. really.”
something melts inside you. “you make me feel very special. really.”
the two of you fall asleep like that, alongside the hum of the bugs and the sound of a lake lapping against the shore.
at some point in the night, steve has taken your hand between his own. fingers laced, the back of it is brought right up to his mouth, as though he fell asleep just after pressing a kiss to it. when you wake up to a screaming baby four campsites down, you don’t make any effort to move it.
˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ ˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ ˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ ˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ ˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ ˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ ˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊
DATE IDEA 5: DRIVE IN MOVIE
when steve came to your front door to pick you up for a saturday night date, confusion instantly rattled you. “where’s the beemer?”
“oh, that thing? yeah, that thing simply wouldn’t do for what i have planned for us tonight.”
you look at him with a slightly puzzled expression. “but it worked just fine for camping? do you forget the part where we got stuck coming back--”
“yeah, well,” he wraps his arm around your shoulders. “we didn’t get stuck on the way there did we?” you shake your head. “and i figured that i’d learn from my mistakes.”
sticking his opposite arm out, he gestures to the pickup truck before you. “boom. i basically had to beg my dad to drive it, and i told him i’d clean the garage until it’s spotless, but... we’ve got ourselves a truck.”
“what the hell do we need a truck for? are we going mudding?”
“i think the country folk call it muddin’. but, no.” he turns to you and runs his hand through your hair, saying, “double feature. ferris bueller and back to the future. i made sure we went on a night where they weren’t playing anything scary.” the fondness in your chest opens up and threatens to swallow both you and steve whole with the sheer magnitude of it. “sound good?”
“sounds perfect, stevie.”
steve makes sure you leave early enough to get a good spot and to have enough time to go to concessions. practically all of the hawkins class of 1985 seemed to have the same idea as he did. and all of their eyes are on the two of you. they watch as steve sets up the bed of his dad’s truck, filled with big cozy blankets and fluffy pillows. you catch steve’s gaze and he raises his brows at you, as if to say-- see? knew this would work.
maybe you should’ve trusted him, because, yes-- ryan is here with his new girlfriend, and their eyes have scarcely left you or steve since you arrived two rows ahead of them.
guiding you towards the concessions, steve bends down to press a kiss against your head. with his lips against your ear, he adds, “don’t worry about them, alright? it’s just you and me.”
once in line, steve looks around and spots ryan a few people behind you two in line. you follow his gaze and you swallow but he’s already caught the movement, already caught your chin and tipped it up to look at him. “hey. what’d i say? just you and me.” your mouth falls open as his thumb rubs against your chin and then he’s bending down, once again at your ear. “can i kiss you?”
it’s all an act, it’s all an act, it’s all an act-- your brain can’t stop screaming this clarification but your heart is hammering in your chest anyway, like a running wild horse that’s never been contained by anything, least of all a ribcage, a body. you nod your head but he tuts. “words. i wanna hear it.”
“yes--”
that’s all he needed. he sweeps your hair back with a hand, the other one a steadying point on your face. he brings his lips to yours and you don’t know how he’s so good at this. so good at pretending.
because it isn’t fake when you grip at his shirt, when you lean up onto your toes to get closer to him. the way that you sigh into the kiss, an involuntary comfort at your lips on his, isn’t fake at all. the warmth that spreads all over your face when he nips at your bottom lip, that is the least fake of all of it.
it is all so painfully real to you, and it’s scary. but not scary enough to get you to stop, not now and maybe not ever. maybe you’ll be okay being steve harrington’s fake girlfriend until he gets sick of you, if it feels this good, this real.
“hey, lovebirds-- you’re gonna lose your spot in line.”
at least five people have already gotten their sodas and candy while you two have been lost in each other. you half expect steve to wear some sort of cocky grin, be proud of himself, a smirk at the fact that he just claimed you as his in front of all these people. but that machismo doesn’t exist in him. all he does is touch your cheek, tuck you into his side, and move the several paces in line.
“was that alright?” he asks you, hushed enough to know that the words are just for you. “too much?”
looking over your shoulder, you see ryan with his hands in his pockets, eyes immediately darting away from yours when your gaze settles on him. but it doesn’t fill you with the sensation of pleasure that you expected it too. in fact, you don’t feel much at all. your head is too busy reeling from steve’s kiss.
“i think it was just enough,” you murmur. you settle your cheek against his chest and his hand goes to your head, massaging at your scalp. “you’re spoiling me. i’m gonna get way too used to this, and then be disappointed when i’m not always getting scalp massages.”
steve scoffs. “nah. this should just be a way to rule out duds.” as if to prove his point, his finger tips lower to the base of your neck, working the muscles just right. “any guy who doesn’t do this can be chucked in the trash.”
“you’ve done this for all the girls you’ve dated? for nancy?”
shrugging, he pauses, as if thinking about it. “not always. i mean, i was kinda a dick in high school. i may be capable of being a good boyfriend now, but i wasn’t always, i guess.”
“dicks don’t give their girlfriends head massages?”
“definitely not.” steve smirks a little and kisses your forehead. “i like to think that i’ve matured. that i’ve grown into the kind of man who gives head massages.”
rubbing your hand up and down his back, you nod your head. “i think any girl is lucky to have you, stevie. head massages and all.”
by the time that you get back with your popcorn, your diet coke and your nerds, the sun has fallen below the horizon. fireflies flicker off in the distance, the chatter of everyone around you the backdrop to your evening. steve, getting beneath the blankets, opens it up to offer you a spot. with a grin wider than it ought to be you climb in beside him. settling against him, your cheek once again resting against that strong chest, shouldn’t be so simple. so easy, but it is.
you like the feeling of steve’s laughter against your cheek, the rumble of his chest. it makes you laugh even more. you like how he twitches beneath you when your hand rests on his stomach, your pinky finger slipping under the material of his shirt. you like the way that his fingers continue to card through your hair, sometimes switching to rub your back, your arm. you like how no one can see you in the confines of the truck bed, but he doesn’t seem to care. he treats you just the same, dotes on you just the same as if a thousand sets of eyes were on you.
you realize then that you need to come to terms with the fact that you like a lot about steve. most things, even.
˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ ˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ ˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ ˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ ˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ ˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ ˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊
DATE IDEA 20
you. me. pick you up from work.
when you had finally finished your opening tasks for the book shop, that was when you noticed the note that had been left in your bag for you to find. and even though you had no idea what steve had planned, you knew this-- you’d done everything from go camping to stargazed at lovers lake, from a picnic in the park to going to the arcade. and everything you did together, you enjoyed. thoroughly.
all day while you check out people’s books and offer your own recommendations, all you can envision is hopping into steve’s car and driving off into the sunset and whatever it is that he has planned for the two of you.
you’re so lost in this thought process, in fact, that you hardly notice who exactly it is dropping the pile of bodice rippers onto the counter. prepared to see a horny mom of one of your classmates, imagine your surprise at who you really see.
“i kinda get the appeal,” steve says, examining the cover of a lisa kleypas novel. “i mean, this guy... he has awesome hair.”
he shakes the novel at you slightly and you snatch it from him with a tentative smile on your face. “you just like him because he looks like you.”
“who said that? not me. you said that.” he cocks his head to the side. “well, hopefully you like how he looks, because all of these are for you.” he pats the stack with pride. “i went through your collection and made sure that i didn’t grab any duplicates. i also asked the librarian for a copy of what you’ve checked out recently. so everything should be fresh.” he pauses. “why are you looking at me like that? anyway-- and don’t use your employee discount, i’m not cheap.”
slowly you start to punch in the prices, watching him all the while. “steve--” you slow yourself for a moment and look him in the eye. “you went to the librarian?”
“uh, yeah. i mean, what kind of loser would i look like buying you books you’ve already read?” steve grins. “c’mon-- you ready to get out of here?”
one hand in steve’s and the other clutching the stack of books, you slide into steve’s car, thank him for opening the door for you. “i don’t get it,” you say once he’s slid in next to you. “this is a date?”
“yeah,” he nods his head. “you’re gonna read one of your new books. i’m gonna watch the game tonight. and we’re just going to... you know, spend time with one another. cook dinner. be normal.” he pauses. “i picked up moose tracks ice cream, too. sounds like a date to me.” he glances out the window. “i know it’s not super flashy or anything, but, you know-- i dunno, a date can just be coexisting around the person that you like. maybe that’s stupid.”
“no! steve... no. that’s not stupid at all.” you tap his hand that rests on the steering wheel, coaxing him to look at you. “i think that’s actually... really sweet. you’re giving me a taste of what a real relationship is like.”
something fractures inside of him and you can see it as it happens, but you’re not quite sure how to decipher it. “’course. that’s what i’m here for.” he reaches across and ruffles your hair which makes you giggle and settle back against the seat.
since you and steve began your ruse, you’d only been to the harrington home a handful of times. almost every time you spent time together, if you weren’t out doing something, you were at your house. your parents doted upon and adored steve, and made it very clear to both him and you that they approved of this union. you silently wished that you didn’t have to bring your families into all of this. it would make everything much more confusing and difficult when it inevitably ended at the end of the summer, once both you and steve have gotten what you wanted out of your endeavor. but it’s the harrington house that comes into view now, and steve seems to sense your surprise. “parents are out of town. another conference.”
“oh.” he puts the car into park but doesn’t make a move to get out yet. you clutch the books a little bit closer to your chest. there’s something written all over his chest as he peers at his childhood home. “i really hate living here still, you know?”
“how come?”
on the outside, the harrington family was perfect. two parents still together and one son, basketball star and stand up guy. but you knew what the reality was. the state of steve’s parents marriage and steve’s own insecurities weren’t lost on you.
“my dad,” he hisses out a sigh and his head thunks against the headrest. “you know, i don’t have regrets about not going to college. would i have worked a little bit harder on my grades a little earlier? probably. but i know that i’m not dumb, or a bad person because i’m not going. and i know that i can still go! and--” he looks over at you where you’ve already opened your mouth. “no, no, don’t. i know what you’re going to say, and i know that, alright? i know the stuff you’re going to say. and i appreciate it.” he looks back to the house and shrugs his shoulders. “i know that you’re going to say that i shouldn’t care what he thinks, or that he doesn’t know what he’s talking about. and, realistically, i know that. but... he’s my dad. shouldn’t he know what he’s talking about when it comes to me?”
you press your lips into a line while he carries on. “i just... i just want to make them proud, i guess. haven’t heard that in a long time.” he looks over at you. “i’m not really setting the mood for a nice date, am i?”
shaking your head, you wrap your hand around his wrist, slinking down to his hand to slot your fingers together. “i don’t care about that,” you say easily. “i’m glad that you’re talking to me about stuff. real stuff.”
“yeah, well...” he rubs his nose. “for the record, if your dad was a piece of shit, i’d listen. or... any of your problems, or fears, or anything. i’d listen.” he levels you with a slight upturn of his mouth. “you may be my fake girlfriend, but you’re also my friend now. one of my closest friends.”
maybe that’s the lesson in all of this. yes, you were sad that you felt rejected and neglected when ryan was your secret boyfriend, but... maybe what you had really wanted was a friend. a true friend.
and steve harrington was the truest kind of friend around.
it only made your heart tumble nearer towards loving him truly and completely.
you spend the night doing exactly what he laid out. you read the book with the model that looked eerily similar to steve on the cover, and secretly, you imagined him as your rakish hero the whole time. steve sat on the couch and watched the basketball game, and every once in awhile, you’d get distracted from your book and simply watch him. it’s easy to watch him from this position: your head in his lap. it gives you the perfect view.
you cook spaghetti together and you eat every last bite. you eat the moose tracks ice cream together, after your book is put away and his game is long ago, his favorite team losing. and you decide if this is what every weekday date night could be like with steve, that whoever ends up with him might just be the luckiest girl in the world.
there’s a hope that bubbles in you that maybe, in one of the alternate universes out there, you’re that girl. none of this is fake and steve’s your boyfriend for real, and he loves you.
but when he looks at you and swipes a bit of chocolate away from the corner of your mouth, you think that maybe he loves you in this universe, too. maybe.
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ds9anonkinkmeme · 4 months ago
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Interest check
Hi, just doing an interest check for an idea we have about making a DS9 anon kink meme! A kink meme is an ongoing prompt event where people can anonymously request fics and others can choose to anonymously fill any prompts they feel inspired by.
See below the poll for our initial thoughts on pros and cons and considerations.
On ao3 we could very easily set up a prompt collection open for anyone to add prompts or fill prompts anonymously. But we don’t know how easy it is to maintain momentum on an ao3 prompt collection. Maybe that doesn’t matter and it can be an ephemeral thing until people forget about it and it becomes inactive, and then the next generation of folks in the fandom can start up their own new one in a few years haha. If we do it on ao3, should we make subcollections for individual “seasons” or “rounds” (there would likely be no actual deadlines, it would just be whatever length of time it takes for the list of prompts to get too long and unwieldy to be usable), or should we have people put all the prompts into a single collection that just grows and grows and grows?
On dreamwidth there would be comment threads so there would be a way to anonymously register enthusiasm for a prompt even before it gets written, which seems really good for encouragement and feeding off of each other’s hype. (Dreamwidth might also tell you when new comments are added to the community, unlike prompt collections on ao3?) But we are less familiar with dreamwidth so we aren’t sure there’s enough ds9 fandom hanging out there (or willing to make an account there) to sustain it over there.
Tumblr doesn't seem like an option for a number of reasons (can't post fully anonymously to tumblr except via asks, and having everything be done via asks would make it difficult to organize and connect prompts with fills because to keep them both anon they'd have to be separated, and tumblr is a website with a famously terrible search function).
If a DS9-focused kink meme already exists, we’d love to hear about it! We’ve found a few seemingly inactive ones in our research. But if there’s an active one out there, we could absolutely just pivot to supporting/participating in that, instead of making our own thing and dividing up the fandom’s energies. (Another question we don’t know the answer to: Is it possible/desirable to work on reviving one of those inactive ones, just by encouraging a collective effort to start participating in one again? Or do we think the mods of these inactive ones have abandoned them and might be stressed out to suddenly see new activity?)
If you have something to say but don’t want to say it publicly, we also have an anonymous, slightly expanded google form version (that can be found in our pinned post) with space to leave freeform feedback. You can vote in one or both forms of this poll, depending on what you feel like.
We’d very much appreciate reblogs to spread this poll around since we just made this account, but no pressure to do so. We still want your vote in the poll if you’re interested in this idea, even if you don’t want to reblog a post about it. <3
Anyway, if you have any thoughts on this DS9 kink meme idea (or messages of encouragement!!!), please feel free to send them in! <3
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mikaleialt · 11 months ago
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Coming Back to You | Minah Lee
Minah Lee x Reader
Cw: angst, smut, fluff. MDNI. MERRY CHRISTMAS @taruusmoon. <3, also I was waiting for Minah to poat the perfect picture for this pic and she finally did, look at how fucking hot she is!!!! And happy birthday to my girl Minah Lee.
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"I'm just saying that I wish you could make time for me, even for just 10 minutes!"
Here you are again, you've been arguing with your girlfriend, Minah for the nth time this week. You two were supposed to be on a date today, but she ditched you last second because she "forgot" that her team had a scheduled meeting earlier on the same time of your dinner reservation at this restaurant.
Now you're both here in your apartment, 4 am in the morning, fighting like a wedded couple once again. Minah just got back from their "meeting" which you found out that is actually a party from the fact that your girlfriend reeks of alcohol.
"Babe, you know that we've been busy with the show right? We all need to be better, do you hear what people call us? We weren't even acknowledged by the other contestants, they were just calling us 'Bada and her students'." You scoff at your girlfriend's alibi, seriously you can't even comprehend how she could say that while slurring over her words, completely obvious that she is drunk.
"You don't have time? YOU DON'T TIME?" You couldn't contain your anger anymore, "YOU DON'T HAVE FUCKING TIME, BUT YOU HAVE TIME TO GO DRINKING AND PARTYING WHILE I WAS WAITING AT THE RESTAURANT FOR 2 FUCKING HOURS?!" Tears are streaming down your cheeks, when Minah sees this, something inside her snaps almost like her system sobers up immediately.
"Baby I—" you cut her off "Let’s break up" You said it, you finally said it.
You didn't let Minah say anything else as you already walked out off your apartment, leaving her behind.
That was 4 months ago, you moved back to your parents in Busan after your break up, you didn't even bother going back to your apartment for your things, knowing that you're just going to see Minah once again.
2
But fate has a different plan for you. You've blocked Minah on every single social media you have, and even her phone number, but you're still somehow in touch with her leader, Bada as she is also your dance mentor. So when you received a text from her, inviting you to attend the On the Stage: Busan concert of SWF 2, your mind is split in two.
You balanced out the pros and cons of your options: You want to go to show your support to your dance teacher, but you'll see your ex again; but you can go there and show that you hold no ill will towards her, but you are also not ready to talk to her again.
You sighed in frustration as you picked up your phone and typed in your response, you just hope that you won't regret this later on.
Now here you are, sitting amongst the crowd as the teams of Street Women Fighter 2 performs on stage. You are thankful because you get to watch the performance live and you didn't get to see Minah for the most part, trying to focus on other dancers like the international crew, Jam Republic and Tsubakill, and a some dancers you're close with like Harimu from 1Million and JJ from Deep 'N Dap.
You were screaming, cheering on everyone's performance, but that is until one of the audiences' most awaited performance: Bebe's Global Artist Performance.
Cockiness (I like it) by Rihanna started playing as the stage lights illuminated the 7 girls on the center of the stage, they were all wearing a burlesque inspired outfit which really suited each one of them. You looked at the big screen and the camera immediately focuses on the person you've been wanting to avoid the most
Minah did her iconic intro once the music start and everyone around screams. You wanted to divert your focus on the other members but after seeing your hot ex girlfriend dance in that outfit, you felt your heart flutter for the first time again, almost forgetting the fact that you guys broke up a few months ago.
Not too long, the concert then concluded, all the SWF 2 teams says their goodbye to the audience and finally made their way to each to their changing rooms.
As you are on your way out of the arena, your phone buzzes from your pocket, indicating you received a text message. You fished out your phone and seeing the notification was from Bada
"There's an after party tonight, wanna come?"
You are in the same situation again as when you are invited by Bada to attend the concert. You balanced out your options once again. With the concert only you can see Minah, but you can't interact with each other which you are grateful for, but going to the after party would mean that you will be seeing and interacting with your ex-girlfriend, and that is too much for you.
You were about to type in your answer, when a familiar voice calls out to your name.
"Y/N~!" You looked at the direction where you heard the voice and saw the tall woman running towards you.
"Unnie I—" before you could even say anything she immediately pulled you to the van where the rest of team Bebe is already at, making you seat next to Lusher who is sitting next to Minah. Guess you don't really have a choice.
Just great. You thought to yourself, the rest of the Bebe girls are all talking to each other with you occasionally joining in but you couldn't really say anything else, not when you literally feel the presence of Minah near you. You are thankful enough that Lusher is seated between the two of you.
Or so you thought...
"Y/n-ie can we switch seats, I don't like seating in the middle" You looked at the poor Lusher, she's getting pale due to the uncomfortable situation. Reluctantly you let her switch seats with you, but as soon as you sat down once again, your body tenses up as soon as you brushed your arm against Minah.
She looks at you and offered a bittersweet smile before looking outside the window, minding her own business. The light from the streetlights outside cascades on Minah features, you can't help but stare at her, her now black hair that used to be dyed orange suits her better, and you can see that she wears a subtle dark eye makeup, similar to the make up she wore on their performance.
You were in a trance as you stare at her until you heard snickering behind you, Kyma, Che-Che and Sowoen were right behind you, laughing at how awestruck you are at Minah. Minah heard this also and looks at you before looking at the girls at the back.
The giggling stops as you all arrived at the party venue, the rest of the teams are inside already. Once you got in, you noticed that the members from the other teams also have their own plus one, some are their close friends, while some seems like their partners as you noticed Babysleek’s husband is also here.
The party went on, people drinks and get drunk, some dances and grinds to each other on the dance floor, and soon you too finally let loose and starts partying.
It was way past midnight now and the party is still at its peak, ‘though some are already passed out aka mostly the youngest of each team except for Haechi and Rena who are still partying like wild animals on the dance floor. You however starts to gets dizzy as the song Meddle About by Chase Atlantic blasted on the speakers, the alcohol finally getting through your systems as you now feel quite high from drunkenness. Nevertheless, you still kept dancing on the dance, grinding on the person you now failed to recognize due to the alcohol.
Unbeknownst to you the girl you are shaking your ass on is none other than Minah, her hands are on your waist as she guides your hips to match her rhythm. “Fucking hell, Y/n you’re driving me crazy” she whispers against your ear. Only then do you recognize the voice but instead of flinching away, which what you would probably do if only you were sober, you lean in more to her touch.
Your back against her chest, as you sway your hips against hers, her hands loosely wrapped around your waist while your left hand sat above it, meanwhile your other hand is reaching for her face, trying to keep her head close to yours as she whispers sweet nothings to you.
“You are so fucking beautiful…” She takes in your scent as she presses her lips on your neck before dragging her tongue against your skin. An inappropriate sound escapes from your lips and you can feel your ex-girlfriend smirks against your neck as soon as she heard it.
Her hands traveled down to your pants and started touching hour aching pussy through it. You leaned your head back more, you almost forgot that you two are still in the middle of the dance floor, thankfully everyone is drunk enough to simply ignore what you two are doing.
~~~
“Fuck…taste so good”
Here you are now, your pants now draped below your knees as you sat on the bathroom’s sink, becoming a moaning mess as your ex-girlfriend dives in between your soaking wet cunt. Tongue deep inside you accompanied by two of her fingers, simultaneously thrusting in and out of you.
“M-Minah f—uck” You couldn’t contain your moans, the effects of the alcohol finally subsided, you are now more sober than you were earlier, but now you are high on pleasure as you are about to reach your orgasm.
“Taste so fucking good. I miss this pussy of yours” Minah muttered against your folds “did you missed getting eaten out like this baby?” she dives right back in and you replied with only a pornographic moan, which only encourage Minah more.
“Such a slut for me. Tell me did you regret breaking up with me?” Minah said as she thrust her fingers inside you in a fast pace. You are already fucked out of your mind, couldn’t even construct a proper sentence as you nod your head vigorously.
“Use your words, Y/n” she looks directly at you eyes, and you did the same. You saw that behind the lust in her eyes lays a sense of hopefulness, hoping that you are telling the truth.
“Yes—YES FUCK! I miss you so much, I’m sorry I left you—ack” You are cumming, you really are close. Minah thrusted her fingers faster, while she busied her mouth once again on sucking your clit. Soon a wave of pleasure gushes on your nerves. Your breathe staggers as your legs shakes from the orgasm, your juices sprayed on Minah’s face, god she even managed to make you squirt. Minah stood up from her position and went up to kiss you which you willingly accepts.
“Please give me another chance, Y/n… I promise I’ll be better, I’ll never leave you alone again.” You saw the sincerity on her eyes and you answered her by pulling her again for a kiss.
Outside the bathroom is a poor Tatter who has been wanting to go to the bathroom for quite some time now, only to be welcomed by the moans of her best friends.
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A/n: there you go @taruusmoon, I figured to just post it on Minah’s birthday instead but this also serves as your late Christmas present hope you liked it <3
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bestworstcase · 7 months ago
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option 1: tai’s guarding the crown of choice.
pros:
a legitimately important task that recontextualizes his ongoing decision to remain on patch as a personal sacrifice he makes for the greater good.
ozpin would pick the guy named for the god of light to be the gatekeeper of choice, huh.
if any parent in this story is meant to die, it’s him, and narratively this is the most intuitive way to do it.
cons:
realistically, what can tai do to prevent salem / cinder / summer from accessing the vault if they find it? if he’s the gatekeeper, staying on patch alone after everyone else evacuates achieves nothing except, ah, signaling to the enemy that the real vault is under signal academy. bad plan.
it means oz is breaking his promise to be honest and forthcoming, undermining his character growth for the sake of ‘surprising’ the audience with the most obvious answer.
means qrow has either been kept in the dark (see prev point) or he’s also deliberately hiding this information from his nieces after they asked him outright if he knew where tai is; this is so far afield for his character as to border on character assassination, and likewise undermines his positive growth since v7.
honestly makes both yang and ruby seem kind of stupid. they know the crown is hidden somewhere near beacon, that ozpin did something to protect it differently from the others, and that their father hasn’t left patch. ruby was sharp enough to guess that long memory might be a relic hidden in plain sight; yang is just as smart, and she knows tai had “some things” to look after on patch. are we expected to believe that “hey, is dad guarding the relic?” somehow hasn’t occurred to either of them?
tai harbors a whole lot of resentment toward ozpin, and based on qrow kicking him out of ruby’s bedroom to drip-feed her hints on where to go next, he seems to have been on the outer perimeter of the inner circle. why would oz entrust him with the relic’s safety?
glynda—ozpin’s scrupulously loyal second-in-command whose emblem is a crown and whose semblance puts her on par with a maiden—is a far more narratively plausible vault-guardian than tai, and the “sun dragon” makes a damn good red herring.
if he’s guarding the vault, he dies. sorry. but the point of putting the father of 2/4 protagonists in between the two main villains and the thing they want most (choice) is so they can kill him to get it, increasing tension and raising the emotional stakes of negotiating peace. to be clear, rwby is willing to Go There, but i think it’s an unsatisfactory way to close out the rose xiao long family arc.
option 2: survivors trapped under mountain glenn, and tai is taking point.
pros:
a genuinely important, worthwhile thing for him to be doing—even more so than guarding the crown. likely sets up a resolution for him in the vein of “you can be a good huntsman or a good father, and tai picked being a huntsman,” which is an elegant way to balance his contradictions.
gives him meaningful stuff to do in v10; for example, one stealthy huntsman with a bullhead could slip in and out of mountain glenn to get a few dozen people out at a time, and/or run supplies and messages between the kingdoms.
we get to see zwei back in action around mountain glenn :)
introduces a natural segue from playing defense in vacuo to mounting a counteroffensive against beacon as tai’s work clarifies the situation in vale.
easily the most 'heroic' direction for him without contorting the story to arbitrarily lionize tai: he’s a scout preparing the stage for the heroes to take the fight to salem, making him the good counterpart to watts.
cons:
makes no sense to keep it a secret. the emotional beats of B4 can still happen if the girls know this is what tai’s doing: instead of “do you… wonder why he’s not here? i know qrow said he’s on assignment, but what’s more important than here?” yang says “do you… wish he were here? with us? i know qrow said he’s looking for survivors, but how many of them can there really be by now? we need all the help we can get,” and ruby says “maybe we don’t have the full picture” as in maybe dad knows something we don’t and that’s why he hasn’t given up yet. the emotion is the same, and the big "they’re hiding in mountain glenn" reveal is hinted without spoiling.
leaves hanging the narrative thread of what tai has been doing since the fall of beacon, because the “some things” he was dealing with in v4 obviously wasn’t this.
option 3: tai is dead.
pros:
explains the apparent secrecy; qrow knows tai was away “on assignment” (i.e., had taken a huntsman contract that brought him out of the kingdom) at the time salem attacked vale, so he is missing but not yet presumed dead.
might reopen the mystery box of summer’s last mission through the real-deal “left on a mission and never came back” echo.
cons:
raven would know.
it’s a cheap, narratively unsatisfying twist that fails to deliver on the bread crumbs set up in v2-3 (tai starts going on missions again) and v4 (“some things”), and also undermines any serious emotional resolution with regard to yang and ruby’s complex relationships with tai.
option 4: summer’s working with salem, and tai is trying to convince her to come back.
pros:
“some things” being his presumed-dead wife who left him to join the enemy and with whom tai is now having an affair or otherwise hoping to coax back to the heroic side through the power of love whilst also keeping his mouth shut about her being a) still alive and b) a traitor is OBJECTIVELY the funniest answer.
brings forward and interrogates the way tai’s romantic grief informs the choices he makes as a parent: from hiding raven and then refusing to talk about her with yang, to shutting down when he lost summer and letting his five-year-old pick up the pieces, to discovering and then keeping summer’s secrets for the sake of some faint hope that she might finally come back to him.
cogent with the Dead (Absent) Mother / Neglectful Father / Evil Stepmother fairytale paradigm rwby deconstructs with raven, tai, and summer; the father chooses the stepmother over his children.
raises the emotional stakes of the war for summer through direct confrontation with the life she left behind, creating narrative opportunities to develop her character (is she still in love with tai? how does she feel about being his first priority, over their children? does she resent that he has her on this pedestal even now?) and apply pressure to her relationships with salem and cinder (do they know? is summer keeping her communication with him a secret, too? or is he an “asset” she’s using for salem’s benefit?).
consequently, raises the momentum of the narrative toward negotiation with salem; tai still has the coalition’s trust, however strained his personal relationships may be. summer is the obvious ambassador for salem’s side of the war, but she’s also the traitor who needs someone to vouch for her good intentions.
the secrecy needs no explanation: just as summer’s last mission was a summer secret, tai’s "assignment" is a taiyang secret and the girls know everything that oz and qrow do, because all of them have been left in the dark. raven might know, and she has the means to find if she doesn’t, but tai’s whereabouts are entangled with what raven knows about summer, so she can’t explain where tai is or why until she reveals her deep dark secrets about what happened between her and summer that night.
foreshadowing is solid: tai starts to go on "missions" again in v2, after the inner circle becomes aware that salem has infiltrated beacon and just before the breach downtown. when ruby visits summer’s grave in v3, she says "[dad] told me he’s going to be on some mission soon! i think he misses adventuring with you." he’s got to "look after some things" (but he isn’t talking about yang, because he stays home after she leaves). and then with B4 we have ruby echoing what the blacksmith taught her about summer in relation to tai, "maybe we don’t have the full picture?"
juicy
cons:
???
dependent on the unconfirmed theory that summer is working for salem as herself, not some unrecognizable enslaved monster, but i am as confident in that as i was about salem going to vale next and we all know how that turned out :)
taking their mom was not enough salem had to go for the full set APPARENTLY
option 5: secret fifth thing
pros:
???
cons:
???
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miffue · 18 days ago
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O4 LOVE COUNTDOWN — Rewind
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meeting up with your ex wasn’t the best option, really. it’s late as hell, no one’s around parks this late as well, he might as be planning go kidnapping and/or murder you.
maybe you were still the desperate highschool girl. begging for closure again.
seeing that you arrived earlier than expected, you sat on swing, lightly swinging back and forth. should you text him? telling him to hurry up or just wait.
what if he doesn’t even show up? did he just wanna make you look like a fool again. maybe you’re still so stupid.
pushing those thoughts aside you go on your phone until scaramouche arrives.
hearing a voice say, “hey, i’m surprised you actually came.”
lifting your head away from your phone, you respond. “yea i know, im surprised. so what did you wanna say?”
"uh, how do i start this even. i'm sorry." scaramouche states with a nervous tone.
"that's all?" you replied in disbelief. he told you to meet up here, just to waste your time? giving you false hope?
"no no, of course not. that'd be shitty of me." he said in a panicking tone. "shit, 'm tryna find the right words right now."
you looking at him with little to no remorse in your eyes, he can't help but feel attacked under your gaze."
"i know i was a bitchy boyfriend, i know i wasn't the best to you before or during our relationship. i should've been better to you in highschool, i'm sorry. this is such a shitty apology you deserve a better one. i can't really find the right words, sorry."
"yea i understand why it'd be hard for you to give a good apology right now, but why do you keep saying i deserve better? you realize that during highschool, but you still didn't change? what's the point if you're words are empty, scaramouche?" you retorted to his apology.
looking at you in shock, he doesn't know what to say. why didn't he change? why did he keep leaving you in the dust? why did he treat you the way he did. not even he knows.
"i don't know why i couldn't treat you better and i'm sorry for it. but can we start over, please?" his voice almost breaking
after hearing his voice you can't help but feel a tinge of guilt, even if he's done you badly, you can still feel empathy for him. "i don't think we can. i can't go through that again." you replied, blinking away the tears that are forming.
"you won't thought. i promise i'll treat you right. we don't have to be in a relationship, we can take it slow. just please, let me be yours again." you can't believe it the scaramouche, no kunikuzushi, begging?
you're taken back at this not knowing what to do. weighing the pros and cons of each decision.
"i don't think i could make a decision right now. it's a lot to take in right now."
"i understand, we don't have to be official or anything. can we just talk again, like friends?" he knows he sounds desperate but, who knows when he'll get a chance like this again.
"oh uhm i guess? just know it'll be hard for me to let you in again."
his lips curl up barely to a light smirk, "i know i understand. thank you for at least accepting to talk again."
"yea."
an awkward silence follows after that, staring at your feet not knowing what else to say. looking at your phone again, you realize it's extremely late.
"hey uh, i think imma head home now. it was nice to talk again with you scaramouche." you state breaking the silence between both of you guys.
"let me walk you home?" he suggested, but the tone makes it seem like he's demanding.
"no no its okay." you dismissed him, basically running off before he could say another word.
looking at your back as you run away, he can't help but feel a little bit sad. the use of his stage name, not meeting his eyes, your actions in general. you really have pushed him away. and he can't blame anyone but himself.
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SYNOPSIS you and scaramouche or kunikuzushi from 6REEZE dated in highschool but went your own ways after an argument. So when one of the members sister is apart of your friend group invites you to their concert without knowing that one of them is your ex. You’re still head over heels for him but, does he still have feelings for you?
AUTHOR'S NOTES — a lil fluffy ig.. spoiler alert!!! there will be more angst hehehe this is a slow born for a reason! also i had to write this while during class lol 😓😓😓 i gotta set my priorities straight one day sigh.. ANYWAYS!!! 3 chaps in 1 day maybe.. (jk never im too lazy for that and i have sm school work n i have a social life)
TAGLIST — @featuredtofu @brain-r0tt @saeskiss @m9rtality @sl-vega @feiherp @jayzioxx @lloovvv @vitanye @skyoverkill1 @infevious @heusalettle @faeristar @dontmindtheevie
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heysawbones · 16 days ago
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Earlier today, I asked Google about removing the ink from a gel pen cartridge. Google thought I meant, “how do you revive a dead gel pen?” No. See. Sometimes, when you’re using gel pens in ways they were never meant to be used, you find the ballpoint inadequate. In my case, it was too big to get into tight spots on the doll shoe I was detailing. Gel ink is water soluble. You should be able to paint with it. Right?
But how do you get it out? Is the coverage okay? Folks,
the coverage is excellent.
You can learn how to free the gel ink from its tiny prison, plus the pros and cons below the cut.
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Here’s the tools I used, except the hobby/model drill. That turned out to be unnecessary. A syringe, some kind of needle OR stiff catheter of similar dimensions, and scissors will do the trick.
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I cut the pen above the stopper and below the ink/air bubble. If a gel pen is old enough or you have enough patience, sometimes you can wiggle the stopper out of the bottom of a gel pen instead. If that’s an option, I’d recommend it for reasons I’ll touch on later.
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The tip of a Sakura Gellyroll has two notches in the plastic where the ballpoint head is seated in the grip. I used the eye end of a fat yarn needle to wedge into that notch and loosen the tip and cartridge until I could remove them from the grip. I think you could get away without removing the tip and cartridge, but I found it easier/neater to do it this way.
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This shows where I cut into the cartridge: between the end of the air bubble, and the end of the ink. The more ink your pen has, the smaller - and possibly harder to identify - this area is.
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Unfortunately, my syringe was not made to be used with a needle. To compensate, I used sticky-tac to cover any air gaps - vacuum is essential to a syringe. I used artist’s tape on top of that to stabilize the connection. You probably don’t need to do this, but if you do, there you go. I bet heavily chewed bubblegum would work, too. Or clay. Or lots of things.
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I really didn’t think this would work, due to bad luck with past attempts. It does work.
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Here, I’m using a kolinsky sable to pick up the ink but any pointed brush meant for acrylic, watercolor, or ink should do the trick.
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THE OPACITY. THE PIGMENT LOAD. THE ABILITY TO DETAIL TINY AREAS
PROS.
-Incredibly opaque for something water-soluble and relatively low viscosity
-high pigment load
-very smooth finish
-accessible
CONS.
-If you bought gel pens with the intent of breaking them open for the beautiful ink inside, it would be expensive - especially for decent ink like Gellyroll
-Coverage is not as even with brush as it is with rollerball. This is easy to get around, but noticeable. Build up the coat until it’s opaque and smooth. Do not allow it to dry between coats. Once you’re done, put the item away to dry for as long as you can stand. DO NOT APPLY TOP COAT BY BRUSH
-Slow-drying on many surfaces if applied heavily enough for a smooth finish, but concerningly fast-drying in the syringe. It’s also unclear if recapping the original pen and sealing the cut end will preserve the ink, or if gel ink harvesting is a one-and-done where you will need to take all you can at one time, then store it in an airtight container. I’ve stuffed the cut end of my cartridge with sticky tac and put the cartridge back in the grip/recapped the pen, but it remains to be seen if this is sufficient for storage.
-Your gel pen will never be the same again: even if the ink can be preserved in the original cartridge, breaking the vacuum causes the ink to blob out of the roller ball. There’s a real possibility that this will just leak everywhere out both ends, which is why I recommend preserving the stopper at the bottom of the grip if plausible.
CONS 2,
continued (of detailing models, etc. with gel ink generally, not specifically the brush application thereof)
- Gel ink requires a porous surface. Do not expect to put pen to plastic without primer or Mr. Super Clear. The ink will consolidate centrally (proximal to heaviest application), gapping away from edges.
-Slow-drying: this takes forever, and it is easy to ruin a finish in the meantime.
—Durability: essentially none. Wait at least a few hours after you think the gel is dry, then apply a clear coat. SPRAY ONLY. Do NOT go back over it with a wet brush, as you risk reactivating the ink and ruining all your hard work. Spray works because it is ruining the finish evenly, and therefore, not at all. Wait and then apply the top coat again. These top coats will be your durability.
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Candle Store
Author’s note: More of Ramiel and Jophiel in Husbandry AU.
Summary: Ramiel and Jophiel wander into a Candle store
Warnings: None? Let me know if I need to add anything!
Tagged: @barn-anon, @bleedingichorhearts, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @egrets-not-regrets, @kit-williams
Tagged: @sleepyfan-blog, @ms--lobotomy , @thevoidscreams, @i-am-a-dragon34, @gra93fruit-blog
Tagged: @felinisnoctis
Ramiel had noticed that they were running low on candles for the private shrine that the Primaris Marines have set up in their quarters. While he could go to the quarter master and request some candles, in exchange for work.
Another option could be to make the candles, but Jophiel had noticed what he was looking over and had said that one of the times that he had been going through Gannet Point, he had spotted a shop dedicated to selling a wide variety of candles.
Ramiel had pointed out to Jophiel that they would need to get local currency in order to buy candles from a baseline shop. Jophiel had grinned at him saying that some people had commissioned him for his embroidery and he'd gotten those commissions done.
He had gotten local currency, among other things, for the needle point work that he'd finished recently. Jophiel was happy to spend some of the local currency on candles. So the pair of them had made plans for during their time off to go to the candle store and check it out.
Ramiel really liked candles, they soft light they gave off, the flickering light that glowed softly in the darkness. The way that they illuminated something, without being overly bright.
The pair of Primaris Marines go to the Candle shop, it's only about a twenty minute power walk away from the Loyalist Base, and still is in Gannet Point.
After double checking, before heading out to the shop, it was rated Space Marines friendly and they headed into the store. It had wooden colored walls. It had a lot of different kinds of candles in glass containers with wooden tops.
Ramiel coughs a little at the strong scent that comes wafting, invading his nose and he quickly puts on his helmet in order to filter out the almost overwhelming smell of all the different kinds of scented candles.
He sees Jophiel stagger a little bit and his eyes water as he puts on his helmet and groans to Ramiel quietly that he might get a small headache from the overpower smell of the different candles.
Despite that minor hiccup, they look around the shop, there are a bunch of base line humans in the store, and some of them are in the candle shop uniform.
One of them is looking at the pair of Space Marines nervously- one of them going into the employees only section of the shop. Ramiel and Jophiel had noticed that, but were very happy to go through the various candles, lightly holding them and assessing the look, smell and quality of the candles.
Discussing the various pros and cons of the different candles, particularly the scented ones. They turn when they hear someone approach them and see a first born space marine in an Astartes-sized version of the candle shop uniform approach them.
He's heavily scarred and neither Jophiel or Ramiel can figure out which Chapter he's from. "Hello there brothers," The first born says slowly, a slight lisp, due to a scar that carves through his lips that has his face in a permanent sneer. "I see you are enjoying the shop. Is there anything I can do to help?"
"Oh- we were just looking for some candles," Jophiel says, the more talktive and outgoing of the pair of Scout aged Primaris Marines cheerfully.
"I can recommend you some Astartes-tolerable scented candles, if you would like." The First born marine offers.
"That would be great," Jophiel says with bright smile.
"I go by Lysander," The First Born says. "Can I know your names?"
"I am Jophiel," Jophiel introduces, and waves a hand at Ramiel, "And this is Ramiel."
"It's nice to meet both of you," Lysander says, "Just as a reminder, little cousins, do you have local currency?"
"I do have local currency with me," Jophiel says as he pulls out a hand stitched and embroidered pouch that rustled with local currency in it.
Lysander nods and goes over the various options for candles that are Astartes-safe scented and they decide on half a dozen different candles. The expense for the hand crafted candles is a little surprising to Jophiel- but he's able to cover the bill with an easy smile.
The way that Ramiel had been like an kid in a candy story as they looked around the Candle store had been worth it, well worth it to see the happy expression on his often melancholic brother-cousin's face.
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bangsinc · 1 year ago
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Heyyy uh, I love your work! Your idea of The Spot just feels so in character and I absolutely adore the sad soggy noodle of a man (I mean that in an affectionate way)
If your commissions are open, Id like to make a request…
Are you comfortable writing for an Autistic Reader (with or without ADHD involved)? It doesn’t have to be anything specific, maybe just how he would deal with the pros and cons of it all?
No pressure in doing it, just take care of yourself and remember to set yourself at a comfortable pace and to make sure to care for your needs!
OhmygodivbeentalkingforsolongIamsosorryillshutupnowhaveaniceday!!!
🖤Spot x Nerodivergent Reader🤍
YES!! I’m also autistic so I’d love nothing more than to feed y’all. Autistic readers and readers with ADHD are never common and it’s really sad to see.
AUTISTIC READER:
The Spot, with his own experiences of feeling misunderstood, demonstrates empathy and acceptance towards their partner's autism. He recognizes and appreciates their unique perspective, and even try’s to promote it as much as he can. You can truly understand him in that sence, and it makes him even more likely to be able to open up to you.
The Spot and you easily bond over shared special interests, whether it's science, technology, or other intellectual pursuits. You both engage in passionate discussions, exchange knowledge, and explore these interests together. Sometimes it might even be hard to have a conversation without accidentally interrupting one another!
In many situations (myself included lol), it’s often hard to stim as you might think of it as embarrassing or useless because of how ‘stupid’ you look. The spot of course, loves to see you happy and express yourself, even if it isn’t conventional. If he notices this pattern of behavior, he might try to help by stimming with you! He thinks it’s sweet and he wants you to feel comfortable around him after all.
Sensory issues are one of the many obstacles that come with having autism, and the spot most likely is aware of this. Even tiny things such as the fabric of your pants Can set you off, and the spot tries his best to make you as comfortable as he can. If you happen to become overstimulated, then he’s going to stop everything and aid you. Even if you feel guilty about all of the attention, he hates to see you distraught.
If you’re feeling overstimulated at home, then he might turn off/dim the lights and give you something to fidget with. If you don’t want to talk about how you feel, he understands, and is willing to console you physically if you wish!
If it’s in a public setting, then the spot is willing to safely (and hopefully slowly, the poor boy might be freaking out alongside you) get you out of the situation and somewhere more quiet and secluded.
Dates during sensory hour at certain places! The options are limitless, but I can imagine he’d enjoy taking you to places such as the aquarium during those hours. It’s quiet, nice, and you both get to see the sea creatures :).
Sometimes you want to be quiet but also in his presence, the feeling of just being around him comforting enough. He can understand, although it might be hard. Sometimes the spot has a tendency to talk your ear off, but in certain situations, espically if you convey so, he might just relax and do something while you do something else.
The spot is also willing to adapt if you have issues with certain ways of communication, maybe to the point of going non verbal or needing cards. Spot is a fast learner, and because of such will quickly be able to affectively communicate with you. He finds ways to accommodate different communication styles, such as using visual aids, written communication, or allowing time for processing thoughts. He’s very patient and knows that your feelings are complex.
Reader with ADHD
The Spot recognizes that your attention and focus may fluctuate and that you might exhibit hyperactive or impulsive behaviors at times. He can understand the feeling of being impulsive, and uses this to connect with you on a certain basis. Reminders are very common with him!
Back when The Spot worked worked as a scientist, he developed an incredibly strict schduale. If you have your own issues keeping schduale and keeping track of your own work, he might implement some of your own tatics for you. (And he’s kinda a total worrywart about it. He cares, maybe wayyyyy too much about if you get your things done on time.)
The Spot uses his powers to create a calming environment for you when needed. He may manipulate dimensions to create serene spaces or offer soothing sensory experiences that help reduce anxiety too!
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tsunael · 4 months ago
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OC Smash or Pass
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Quick Facts
Height: 4'11" | 149cm.
Age: 32.
Gender: Female.
Pronouns: She/Her.
Sexuality: Bisexual. Probably.
Pros
Diligent. She can cook (kind of)! She can clean! No task is ever left undone. She'd make a good homemaker.
Romantic. As her Raen blood dictates, she's always looking for a place to call home.
Talented. She has a knack for conjury, so you'll always be on the receiving end of her tender mercies. She also knows of several styles of dance and can play stringed instruments.
Elegant. Rigorous training in her youth has given her a natural poise and grace. She would make excellent arm candy.
Cons
Tsundere. This might be a pro, as the appeal would be to crack her shell.
Haughty. If she has reason to believe you have unsavory ideas, she may give you the cold shoulder. Her temper is as sharp as her horns-- speaking of...
Au Ra. She is a danger from the front and the back. Go in for a kiss and you'll be maimed. Oh, and she has fangs, too. Want to spoon instead? Too bad! Tail spines! Guess you'll have to get creative.
Cynical. She's been through a lot in her life, and it shows through more often than not.
Daddy issues. She certainly wouldn't be projecting on you, or looking for love in the wrong places or anything.
Details
Romantically: It's something she daydreams about, though she often wonders if it would be best to keep it as one. There's somewhat of a hedgehog's dilemma there, both figuratively and literally in that she can't really get close to anyone without feeling the need to pull away. However, if she were ever to have a romantic partner, she would devote herself fully to them. One could expect small touches of the hand and shoulder in public, and truly intimate gestures like light massage, or washing their hair in private. Though a soft and sensitive partner would be the ideal and probably make her happiest, she really shines when she's around someone she can exchange (verbal) blows with. Make her match your wit, and reduce her to a flustered mess (it's easy to do).
Sexually: She's somewhat repressed. The particular Okiya she was raised in was convent-like in nature, and she rarely ventured outside other than to the markets, or for work. She's had undisclosed partners, but never any that let her truly bloom. ... Because of this she might be hesitant to try new things, or engage in anything she deems too 'filthy', but it's learned shame, and there is merit in helping her overcome it. Ahem. In a similar vein, she does know what she likes, but she may have difficulty asking for it. This would be considered a con, but with enough time and patience you might get to see an extra special side to her. Basically, I think her years of yearning, coupled with an excitable nature would make for a, uh... very passionate experience if you can get over how much of a wilting flower she is at first. She probably has a few kinks to unearth, too!! Who knows! Anyway!
Tagged by: No one. I took it, comrade. Because sometimes you gotta do it yourself. Tagging: This is my community garden. Take what you will.
I didn't include an other option because mama didn't raise a quitter. You will SMASH or you will PASS and you will like it.
Points if you say why though. 🔍👀
Rules: pretty self explanatory. include physical descriptions or pics, and propaganda. the “other” label can be used for “sexuality misalignment” (ie: oc is femme and you’re gay, vice versa or you aren’t into smashing but a specific thing you wanna do with them like perhaps hug or study them under a microscope idc)
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saltydkdan · 2 years ago
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Salty, may I ask which you recommend more: the one piece manga or anime. I wanna get into it but I also want a recommendation on which one may be better to start with depending on the pros and cons. Anyways I apologies if this is a dumb thing to ask.
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Sure! One Piece is a really interesting beast when it comes to the difference between it's anime and manga, and at the end of the day it depends on your preferences- However yes, there are Pros and Cons to each! For this ask, I'll be trying my best to stick to the Official options available to you.
Also, this post specifically will be about how to best GET INTO the series, not necessarily a critique on the content of it! (I'll gladly do a separate write up on that eventually if anyone is interested in my thoughts on the Pros and Cons of the series itself)
Anyway, here are my personal thoughts:
MANGA
(This is my preferred way to experience the story)
PROS
-I'm not a manga purist by any means HOWEVER, the One Piece Manga is really good
-The pacing is really great (especially initially). In the first half, arcs are very quick and snappy! And even as they got progressively longer in length I didn't mind because by that point the story already gripped me.
-The art is wonderful in both black and white, and the official colored scans (which you can find online)
-This isn't really a "pro" per say, but it's something I enjoy doing. When I read, I like to put on some of the soundtrack from the anime. I usually find stuff like "Tense One Piece Music" or "Emotional One Piece Music" and listen to it as I read. It really enhances the experience for me personally. I also like to look up clips of arcs from the anime that I'm reading or already finished to see what they look like, and also see them in a fun new way. I feel like this sort of mixed approach is optimal for me.
CONS
-You have to read 😔
-There are many ways to read One Piece and in many different languages. There's black and white and colored manga- however just be careful. The best one TRANSLATION wise is the official release, and while you may find other options, some older "unofficial" translations are VERY outdated (I once saw one where Zoro casually dropped slurs)
-That also being said: Even though the official translation is the best, it is stuck in black and white. Many official colored scans were never officially licensed in English, and because of that aren't as accessible.
-Collecting it physically is fun, but can get VERY pricey. Like... hoo boy. Thankfully they sell compendiums that collect a metric shit ton of chapters, however the paper/print quality is noticeably cheaper. So if you want to collect them, the smaller volume releases are the way to go. That being said, I would just suggest using the Shonen Jump App by Viz Media. It's the best official way to support the series officially, as well as the cheapest for the average consumer! $3 a month for the entire library as well as other series + getting new chapters updated every week is great. I'm not sponsored or anything either, I just really like the model. So if you find yourself really enjoying the series, THEN you can go about collecting it physically if you want!
ANIME
PROS
-It's animated (obviously)
-You have a choice of either the Japanese Sub or English Dub. This also boils down to preference but from my experience they're both great options!!
-I'll get into it in the "Cons" section, but the One Piece anime is VERY long, like... kind of in a not so good way at certain points. However, I've heard that even though some parts are a bit too long, it's one of those things that if you really get into it, you'll love the fact that it feels like a never ending adventure! Not my experience, but it's what others have told me!
-This is gonna sound crazy, but Filler Arcs. A lot of people don't like these, and I get why, but they are very easily skippable if you want to look up a guide, and some of them can actually be really short and fun (as well as add a bit of extra flavor to the story). One of the best examples is an arc called "G-8". Even Manga readers recommend it, so you know it's good and gives each of the characters some fun moments!
CONS
-You may be aware already, but the One Piece anime has a very bad reputation of having HORRIBLE pacing. Now, to be fair, many people say that the pacing only gets truly horrible AFTER a very specific arc about halfway through the series (which is where a lot of anime watchers jump ship to the manga)
However, I'll be honest... I wasn't a super huge fan of the pacing from the beginning. To clarify, I STARTED with the anime. I don't have a super great attention span, so having to wait around 38 or so episodes for "Arlong Park", the arc that people suggest you get to before deciding whether to keep going or quit, was very difficult for me at first. I got through it, and I'm glad I did, but as soon as I did, I decided to switch over to the manga and had a much easier time.
-I find the show's music very repetitive at times. That's not to say the music is necessarily bad, I love the One Piece OST! It's just... over the years they have barely updated the soundtrack. Every arc you might here one or two new tracks, however a lot of the time you'll hear the same tracks replayed in the same sort of situations. ("OVERTAKEN" is an AMAZING track, but if I hear it one more time I'm gonna snap)
-This is a bit of a nitpick but I need to say it. One Piece's sound effects, while iconic, are also extremely outdated. When you start the series and hear the older-styled Toei Animation sound design, it is super charming because it fits with the older visuals. However in more modern One Piece, which visually looks incredible, THEY STILL USE THE OLD SOUND EFFECTS AND THEY JUST DON'T FIT.
TOEI, UPDATE YOUR SOUND LIBRARY!!!
ANYWAY...
Anyway, I hope my funny little list here helps!! Sorry it's so long, went a bit off the handle. But I think this is a fine enough starter guide and may help you get started!
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pigeonmilk-216 · 1 year ago
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House MD makes me absolutely FERAL.
For instance, I finished rewatching S3 E15, "Half-Wit", the one when House fakes cancer so he can get high (typical). And
AHHH
Everyone's response to House potentially dying is EVERYTHING. And displays both the characters and their character growth SO WELL.
Wilson, ofc, is offended that his best friend *cough* *lover* *cough* didn't say anything, and hid it. And something I think (and forgive me if this is not actually how it went down to everyone else, it's 1am and I have brainrot) is really interesting, is that beyond Wilson giving House shit for not saying anything, Wilson doesn't give any of the platitudes that everyone else gives. We don't see Wilson trying to "fix" anything or say, "House your dying, can we have an actual human connection for once?". No no, Wilson just lets him be.
Now, either Wilson is pissed and reeling from this news , and is just distancing himself (which tbh feels ooc, like House has crossed worse lines before, and Wilson deals with cancer everyday, idk).
OR you can look at the option of Wilson knows House well enough (and cancer, let's be real) that trying to fix it, won't change anything, that coming up to House and trying to "console" him won't do anything. House is House, and Wilson KNOWS THAT. Wilson knows that if House really and truly wants a conversation about it, or any comfort, House will just be like, " Yo, can we go get wasted?" and that's that.
AND THEN HIS FUCKING ANALYSIS AT THE END AND HIM FUCKING LAUGHING AT THE IRONY.
And Cuddy, I feel like, is the middle ground between how Wilson and the kids react. She doesn't go out of her way to say something, but in an almost hand-on-the- doorknob-as-I'm-leaving type way does she say something. AND THEN THEIR BANTER IN THE HALL IS FUCKING EVERYTHINGG. And her FUCKING smile as House grabs her ass (istg I can only say this in real action to this fucking show) but still dismissing him coming to the bedroom with her
Like both her and Wilson and obviously hurt, right, but they don't outright change their behavior toward House or anything, but they accept it (kind of) and don't go out of their way to change anything,
AND THEN THE KIDS' RESPONSES. ANHHH
I love Chase's moment. He's just like, "Dad, shut up and let me hug you" AND FUCKING STARTS CRYING
CHASE IS LITERALLY THE ONLY ONE WHO CRIES
He's like, "Goddammit, I'm going to lose two of my parentals to this cancerous bullshit. Tf."
AND HUGH LARUIE'S ACTING I CANT
YOU CAN SEE HOUSE REALIZING THAT, "oh shit, they really care and this is really going to hurt them" LIKE WHAT THE HELL. MY HEART, FUCK THIS SHOW WTH
And I love how Cameron is shown in this episode, over the first three seasons, we can see her kinda of coming to her own, and learning from House, so instead of like, backing down from helping House she just fucking kisses him so she can steal his blood. Like. YES CAMERON. GET IT.
AND AGAIN
HUGH LAURIE. YOU CAN SEE HOUSE'S HESITATION, WEIGHING THE PROS AND CONS BEFORE KSSING BACK.
And tbh I feel like House is low key proud of Cameron for a moment in a "she is taking after me" type way.
And Foreman trying not to care, but caring the whole time, and HIS FACE WHEN HES TELLING HOUSE HE DOESNT HAVE CANCER. LIKE. JXNKSCVJVXFBJKBFVSKJ
And I just love everyone's reaction five seconds later when they realize
"House is an addict. Right. Fucking this was a sham, fuck"
AND THEIR FACES ARE EVEYTHING
Cameron is crestfallen, outraged. Foreman is slightly pissed but completely nonplussed almost? Like a I should have expected this/this is such a House thing, which is why I dislike the man. And his sarcastic response is EVERYTHING And, Chase, oh Chase. He's so disbelieving and hurt. Like my baby I'm so sorry.
And House like really understanding how much this hurt them, and kinda of being a fucking TOTAL IDIOT and like slightly scared I feel but arrogant enough to just fucking like. Trying to blame so he doesn't feel guilty (he does) pushing them away so he doesn't have to face consequences (he's spiraling) and and after Wilson (finally) talks to him, having to stop and THINK about how fucking miserable is he really (he's such and idiot) and just AHHH
AND THEN HIM FUCKING GOING INTO THE RESTAURANT AT THE END?????? ITS A FUCKING CRIME THAT WE DON'T SEE THAT CONVERSATION BETWEEN HIM AND THEM. LIKE SIR, I WANT TO THIS POTENTIALLY EMOTIONALLY CHARGED MOMENT. LIKE
And honestly, Ilove how House interacts with the patient in the episode, it's on par with the boy who had autism earlier this season. Like the piano part is what really intrigues him, but still goes forth to give him his life back. Idk, just felt special.
Okay, um so thank you for coming to my Ted Talk. Idk what happened.
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writingquestionsanswered · 1 year ago
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Logical Story Setting Doesn't Work
Anonymous asked: I was having trouble picking ideas. I made two different versions for my story, just to see what would be the better book. I really liked both, so I made a pro-con list. I still really like both, but one version makes more sense than the other and I think it's the one I should go with. Just one con that's a dealbreaker for me: logically it would be set around the 1500s. Maybe even earlier. And I'm not really a fan of that. I can't explain much, but this story is dependent on another story I'm writing. I don't want to give up the connection between the books, and I don't want to go with the worse version with the weak plot. But I'm not interested in the 1500s and it seems like heck of a lot of research. I doubt readers won't notice the timeline being a little funny if I just choose any setting I want.
(Ask has been edited for length...)
This is definitely a tough one, and unfortunately, you don't seem to have a lot of options. You either bow to fate and let the story be set in the 1500s, or you find a way to beef up the plot that isn't set in the 1500s. Let's talk through some options for both.
1 - Try to Get Interested in the 1500s - It isn't much fun to research and write about a time period you're not interested in, so it's worth seeing if there's a way to get interested. Watching movies or TV shows set in a similar time and place to your setting can help you get interested in a time period. Some shows and movies set in the 1500s: The Tudors, The Spanish Princess, Anne of the Thousand Days, The Other Boleyn Girl, Reign, Mary Queen of Scots, Elizabeth, Elizabeth: The Golden Age, Shakespeare in Love, Wolf Hall, Kingdom, A Discovery of Witches, Magnificent Century, Jodha & Akbar, Amaya... If your story is set somewhere not represented above, you can Google that location and "1500s" or "16th century."
2 - Find a Way to Move it Forward - Such a big part of writing is taking the time to brainstorm (and do a little brute forcing sometimes) to get things in our story to work right. It isn't fast, and it isn't particularly fun, and you could spend days trying to make something work, but sometimes that's just how writing is. Sometimes, you just treat the problem like a Rubik's Cube and you work it until it's solved. Odds are good if you really set your mind to it, you can find a way to make a later time period make sense.
3 - Fake It 'Til You Make It - Another option in that same vein is to just start writing the story in whatever time period you like better. Don't worry about it making sense, just start writing. If you're lucky, something will just click while you're writing and pave the way for you to make the preferred time period make sense. Worst case scenario, you'll have a better understanding of the story's needs and that may help you adjust the time period to something that works better.
4 - Strengthen the Weak Plot - Although you describe the non-1500s version as "the worse version with a weak plot," you also said you still really like it, and there must have been some pros for this version, so I think this idea is probably salvageable. Once again, it's gonna take some brute force to figure out what needs to happen to make it work, but this may be the better path. You can also try the "fake it 'til you make it" option with this one and see where it goes. It's often easier to improve a story once you know for sure what it's going to be.
5 - Look for a Third Option - As much as it may not seem ideal, it's just possible that there's a third option out there that bridges the gap between option one and option two. It's always worth taking the time to brain storm--go the Rubik's Cube route again--and puzzle it out until something hopefully clicks.
Hopefully one of these options will work for you!
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