#I have some on my laptop since it can handle them better than my phone

[fitzselfships]

Okay I know I've posted this screenshot like 3000 times but I'm obsessed with it he is the ceo of autism <3

[emeritus-fuckers]

Ghost reaction to finding fanfic you write of them (smut, fluff or angst idrc) also feel free to ignore lovely

Papas reacting to fanfiction

WARNING: Copia's section includes Rite Here Rite Now spoilers.

Primo (he/him)

Reacting to „Souls on Fire” ♡ Yandere!Papa Emeritus I x Reader oneshot

Primo sat down to read after a long day in the garden, glasses perched on the end of his nose. You knotted your fingers together, you'd really taken some liberties imagining his younger self. Why were you even letting him read this?!

Despite your nerves, Primo seemed more and more delighted as he read. A small chuckle escaping him now and then.

"Ah yes, my younger brothers..." he mused to himself. "Such an adorably sinful handful."

He carried reading enthralled by every word. When he finished he turned to you with a truly devilish smile.

"Amore, it has been so long since someone has seen me for anything other than a wise old man who tends his garden."

"I think I know you better than most do." You winked with an awkward little giggle.

"Yes, you do." He says with a smile, then his expression turns serious "How did you find all this out?"

You eyes widen.

"The accuracy..." he shakes his head in dismay as you blanch.

"She was wonderful, I remember her well, she had a bit of a habit of running away... I can take you to meet her?" Primo looked so serious but his eyes gleamed with mischief. "In the cemetery, I sometimes still sit and watch her grave." You aren't sure whether to believe him or not and narrow your eyes.

"You won't leave me, will you amore? Because I can make you stay."

You hurled the nearest cushion at him. "I dare you try it, old man."

He scoffed and placed your laptop carefully down before holding his arms out for you. You couldn't say no to that adorable and loving smile.

"See, I have you completely under my spell." He chuckled, wrapping his arms around you.

"Prick." You mutter.

"That is not very polite, amore. If it makes you feel better, I love your writing. Luckily for you I am not a... 'yandere', but I do have an interesting past. I might tell you more of it if you promise to keep it to yourself and only yourself." Primo says with a kiss to your cheek.

Secondo (he/him)

Reacting to Day 23 of Kinktober: Blood - Papa Emeritus II

Secondo is not the one to snoop. He trusts you with his life. With his being. The Siblings of the Ministry, however? They are. They absolutely are. They also are completely unable to stay silent. So, when they blabber about you? He listens. He honestly just wanted to make sure that they weren't saying anything that he needed to... handle. He would never let anyone talk behind your back.

But they were blabbering about a story you written.. about Him. And that's what truly got his attention. Why hadn't you shown him before this point, anyways?

It didn't take him long to find the fic on his phone, he did have your writing blog on every platform, after all. Poker face on as usual as his eyes scanned over the words, carefully taking in each and every word. Memorizing them. Greeting you as usual as you walked into your twos shared chambers. Nodding and giving you a kiss, asking how your day was going and pointing you to the dinner he had made, as always. Going right back to reading, when he was done. Which wasn't odd, he was often stuck in a book, online or a physical one.

He doesn't say a thing for a few weeks. Bordering on a month. Just... waiting.

Not until your period, that is. He wakes you up with soft words and soft kisses, making you giggle happily, joining you with a shower and a wonderful breakfast, then gently leading you back to bed. Before harshly grabbing your wrists, asking for a safe word, and then doing Every. Single. Thing. You had written, keeping each moment to how you written it, and even going back to match it.

Perhaps a bit more mean, honestly.

Terzo (he/they)

Reacting to “Love Story” Terzo x f!reader one shot (READ CW)

Terzo wasn’t one to necessarily snoop at what you were writing. He knew it was your favourite hobby to partake in when you had free time. However, their curiosity got the better of them seeing a song connected to the story you were writing.

He put on the song as he read what you wrote, a little surprised to find it was a story about him. Humming as he began to reading. The first part was unbearably sweet, a smile appearing on his face as he read through. You did have a talent with words.

You walked in to him holding his neck as he read the second part, giving you a look of horror as you stood by. Awkwardly rubbing the back of your neck.

“Cara Mia…should I be concerned about where you got this idea to have Copia pose with my severed head from?”

You didn’t reply, just giving a sheepish smile as you came to lay beside them in bed. Looking at them with an awkward grin. Immediately setting off alarm bells in his mind.

“…you haven’t read the third part yet have you?”

Mismatched eyes returned to the screen as he seemed to fearfully begin reading the next part. His brows furrowing as they tensed up. Holding you close as if you trap you at his side, eyes widening after a few moments. Slowly looking at your sheepish smile.

“First thing amore, we are getting you…a very good therapist. Second…if I ever start acting that way I implore you to actually kill me. I am obsessed with you…but not to that degree.”

He huffed, putting aside the cursed story and stopping the music. Holding you close and breathing in the scent of your shampoo. Relaxing in your presence…

And hoping this inspiration hadn’t come from the bag he had hidden out in the garden…

Copia/Frater Imperator (he/him)

Reacting to Biggering ⸸ Cardinal Copia

Contains spoilers for Rite Here Rite Now.

"Wha- Amore, why would I- she's my mother! I would never-"

Copia stumbled over his words, looking between you and the screen of your laptop. He was just going to look something up real quick (although with his knowledge about modern technology, it wasn't really going to be too quick, but let's not get into those details), unaware that you left your Tumblr up with some sort of... story, as he assumed. He knew you wrote silly stories occasionally, but he never got to actually read any of your works. He got curious, especially seeing his name in the title of the story.

He played the song attached to the thing, since he deduced from the title that it was probably rather important. He knew he shouldn't snoop around, but curiosity got the best of him, as he got his glasses from his pocket and started to read what you wrote. He couldn't believe his eyes, especially at the end. While yes, he did enjoy the fame, he wasn't a villain! And he would never kill his mother, he mourned her death! He was heartbroken when he lost her!

And now, he was struggling to express just how confused he was by what you wrote. Even despite you assuring him you were just having fun with a concept of him, your anxious little ray of sunshine, being evil. A concept he did not really enjoy.

Needless to say, it took a big plate of rigattoni and about an hour of apology cuddles for him to stop pouting about that one little fanfic.

Old Nihil (he/him)

Reacting to “Tattoo” ♡ Old Papa Nihil x female!Reader (smut)

He begged and pleaded for you to let him read it. Hours and hours after he heard you'd written something about him. But you kept going bright red every single time. This story haunted you, it would never go away now that you had finally put pen to paper. You finally gave in when he looked at you with those simpering big eyes. Why not let him read it, it was out there on the Internet and it might actually make Nihil rather happy, even if it did give him a rather in depth view of your imagination.

You passed him a printed copy. He started to read, devouring each word.

At first he kept looking across at you, lounging on the sofa as you watched his every reaction. His gaze often went to your legs, which were covered by your jeans.

You raise an eyebrow, wordlessly daring him to ask, but then he swiftly reached for his oxygen mask and took a large hit.

He must have reached the smutty part.

A playful smile lit up your face as he read on, needing more and more oxygen with every paragraph.

"Ooooh, this is very good." He is transfixed and you are almost as mesmerized by the obvious rising of his own seven inches. "You write very well." He added as he reached the fanfic's ending with the biggest grin on his face.

"Thank you Papa. I can put a skirt on later if you'd like?"

He reached for his oxygen again while nodding enthusiastically.

You walk over to him, settling on his lap which only excites the man more.

"So, did you get the tattoo, my dear?" He asked, gently trailing his fingers up your thigh.

You lean in to whisper in his ear.

"You can find out tonight."

Young Nihil (he/him)

Reacting to Papa Nihil falling head over heels for reader

"What are you doing?" Nihil watched the ice melt in his cocktail and huffed. He should have been doing his work but fuck that, he'd rather be having fun with you...

Except you were in his office, on his sofa, with your clothes (well, the shirt was his) on and worst of all, working. What in the Dark Lord's name had gone wrong?

"Baaaabe..." he stood behind you to see what you were up to and you froze.

"Oh, you're writing!" he said happily, he was always so impressed by your work. He leaned in closer to get a better look. "About me?!"

It started off about right, his broken heart, his fear of rejection... wait, how did you know?

"You think I'm in love with you???" You went red but kept typing. "Babe..." He whined again but then trailed off and kept reading.

"Maybe I am... I like this part." He says with a large grin hiding his hammering heart. He was in love with you, he really did smile every time he saw you. How had you worked that out?!

He let out a sigh of relief, it all made sense now. He should have just told you himself.

"Why d'you stop before the good part?" His hands rested on your shoulder as he started to rub them. "The world should hear about my skills in bed. How I can make ya scream my name." He winked before he started kissing your neck.

Yet you were tense, still embarrassed as you stared at your writing. Your shoulders sagged.

He goes round so you can see him as he knelt down in front of you. "You don't have to write your hopes and dreams, just tell me about them. I mean, by all means, write, I love you imagination but this..." He pauses thinking of the right words. "I do love you and I won't mess it up this time." He takes both your hands and kisses them.

"I love you too..." You said with the most perfect soft little smile and his heart melted all over again.

"You keep writing if you want." He leaned in, his lips achingly close to yours. "Maybe the world should hear about your skill in bed. You are truly a dark temptress. Write about it. Or you can tell me now and I'll make your fantasies come true."

~

Papas I and Nihil written by Nyx.

Papa II written by Zenith/Jasper.

Papa III written by Death.

Papa IV written by Nosferatu.

[my-proof-is-you]

Now That We Don’t Talk - Part 1

Summary: When you started dating Jensen Ackles, things were damn near perfect. You were so compatible, and you fit into his life seamlessly. After Supernatural ended, though, Jensen got a new job. Pretty soon, Jensen also got a new life. And you no longer fit in it.

Jensen x You

Inspired by the song Now That We Don’t Talk by Taylor Swift

Masterlist

You

You sat the last box down in your living room with a grunt. You’d been lugging boxes into your new apartment all day, and you were exhausted. You let your tired body fall back onto the couch, sinking into the soft cushions. 

You looked around the room filled with cardboard and the few pieces of furniture you had. You could feel the tears threatening to fill your eyes, and bit your lip to stop them. You pulled out your phone, tapping the name of the only person you could think to call at that moment. 

“Hi, baby, how are you doing?” your mom answered on the second ring.

You sighed. “I’ve been better,” you replied, rubbing a hand down your face.

“This really is for the best, you know?” she said, and you could almost picture the sympathetic look she’d have on her face. 

“Is it? Cause right now it feels just…horrible.”

“Yes, Y/N, it is. He changed, and you are not the only one who noticed.”

You sighed again. “Thanks, Momma. I better get unpacking. Love you.”

“Love you too, Bug. Pour yourself a glass of wine and just try to relax.”

You smiled as you hung up. Your mom truly was your best friend. You’d called her right after you broke up with Jensen and she’d talked you through it the best she could from nearly a thousand miles away. 

After you’d moved to Austin to be with Jensen, you saw your mom a lot less than you’d liked. It was tempting to move back home after the breakup, but you had a job that you really loved, and you just couldn’t bring yourself to leave it. 

You had friends nearby, too. The only problem was that Jensen was the one who introduced you to them, which made you feel a little uncomfortable. Gen had already reached out to you. She’d left a message wanting to get together to hang out. You hadn’t responded yet. You just weren’t sure if you could handle the inevitable conversation she’d want to have about the breakup.

You pulled out your corkscrew and a wine glass from your box labeled “kitchen” and opened the bottle of white wine you’d gotten on your quick grocery trip earlier in the day. As you took your first sip, you sat down again and let your mind wander to the beginnings of your relationship with Jensen. 

Two Years Earlier - You

It had been by chance that you’d met the green-eyed actor at a coffee shop in your small town of Salida, Colorado. He’d been on his way home from a fan convention in Denver and had taken a wrong turn. He’d wanted to make the long drive alone to clear his head, and you’d learn later how stubborn he was about using the GPS on his phone. 

He’d come into the coffee shop you frequented to get some caffeine and directions. You’d recognized him, of course, since you were a fan of Supernatural. You’d always kept up with the show, but you weren’t a big enough fan to have gone to the convention. 

“Excuse me, miss,” you heard, looking up from your laptop in surprise. Though you’d noticed him enter the shop immediately, you’d never expected him to talk to you. 

“I’m on my way back to Texas, and I think I’m a little lost. I don’t have any service on my phone, but I’m using the Wi-Fi here to look at Google Maps.”

You nodded, listening to his explanation while still wondering why he was talking to you of all people. 

“Can you take a look and tell me if this is a good route back to I-25?” he asked, giving you a dazzling smile. You returned it, and took his phone. 

“Sure,” you said, looking at the route his phone was going to take him. It looked fine, which only added to your confusion at the question he was asking you. Surely the app could tell Jensen what the fastest or easiest route was.

“That is a good option,” you said, handing him his phone back. “And when you go through Trinidad, there’s a great little barbecue place off Main Street you should check out. Awesome pulled pork and even better cheese fries.”

He nodded, his eyes surprised. “Thanks—“ he paused, stretching out his hand in an invitation to shake yours.

“Y/N,” you responded, placing your hand in his calloused one.

“Y/N,” he repeated. “I’m Jensen.” 

“I know,” you said with a smirk. He let out a chuckle and stood there for another moment, as if deciding something. 

“Would it be weird if I asked to buy you a cup of coffee?” he asked finally.

“Hmm, I have coffee,” you replied, glancing at the paper cup in front of you. He seemed to deflate a little, and you quickly continued. “But I would love a scone.”

He smiled again, giving you a wink as he headed to the counter. After he bought your scone and his own coffee, he returned to your table where he asked if he could join you.

You made small talk for a little bit. You told him you liked his show; he asked you about your life in Salida; you joked easily with each other. Before you knew it, a couple of hours had gone by. 

“Well, I really should get going. I have a long drive ahead of me,” Jensen said, leaning back in his chair. 

“Yeah, good idea,” you responded. You had really enjoyed your talk with him, even if it was just a random moment in your life and you never saw him again.

“Do you think I could see you again?” he asked, looking a little nervous. It was very cute, especially since he was a famous actor. 

“Might be a little tough, what with living a thousand miles apart,” you said with a smirk. You saw his shoulders sink a little. “How about I give you my number. If you ever want to talk, I’ll answer.”

“Hmm,” he said, nodding. “It’s not ideal, but I’ll take what I can get, sweetheart.” 

You smiled coyly and put your number in his phone. “It was great to meet you, Jensen. I hope we meet again.”

“Oh, I think we will, Y/N,” he said confidently. You shook your head with a smile as he backed away from the table and out the door.  I will never hear from him again, you thought as you watched him get into his car that was parked on the street. Little did you know, one day later he would prove you wrong.

Forevers:

@divadinag @lynne1993 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​  @onethirstyunicorn @sammykb1994 @lilulo-12 @mellorine-paprika @tranquility-or-chaos @collette04 @hoboal87 @chevyharvelle @miraclesoflove @defenderrosetyler @babypink224221 @calaofnoldor @beatifuldisaster018 @coffeebooksandfandom @supernatural3002 @lainxcas @mylovelydame21 @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester @lovely-lynns-likes @ppeachygemss @screechingartisancashbailiff @metalfangirl @vicmc624 @polina-93 @hobby27 @sexyvixen7 @unnuevosoltransformalarealidad @lyarr24 @amelia-song-pond @donnaintx @spnbaby-67 @traceyaudette @gh0stgurl @fiftyshadesgrl @tapedeck-hearts @lacilou @foxyjwls007 @stoneyggirl2

[daughterofcain-67]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐩𝐭.2

CEO Jensen x Plus Size Female Reader

(masterlist)

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Monday has finally arrived and things are certainly smoother than expected. Jensen is certainly showing you a side you didn’t expect and it turns out that your roommate has a few surprises waiting for you.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: nothing that I can think of?

The weekend had been filled with nothing but a Smallville marathon with your roommate. A part of you wondered if Rhema was more excited about your new employer than you were. Well actually, there wasn't a doubt in your mind about that. It was obvious when she nearly blew up your phone with different articles about Mr. Ackles buying the previous company just to expand his own casting company.

In a way, Friday had felt like a fever dream.

Still, you wondered why on Earth he left acting just to go into a business like this. Being a celebrity seemed like it would be such a better option. He wouldn't have to worry about any of the stresses of keeping a business alive, but here he was in the metal casting industry. It was definitely a 180 from acting.

Now that Monday had arrived though, you had to get back to reality. This Jensen guy was like the boss of everything, so if you could just stay off his grid and below the radar then maybe you'd survive the week while the company makes their adjustments to everything.

Once you made it to your cubicle you set your computer bag down on your desk and placed your coffee beside the monitor only to notice there was a little sticky note in front of your keyboard.

You took your seat in the little swivel chair and picked up the note to read what it said.

Apparently it was just a note from the IT guy giving you the new temporary passwords to your computer and other accounts for work since they had to reset a number of programs over the weekend as you'd predicted. You placed the sticky note elsewhere for the time being before you grabbed the supplies you needed to start the day.

After you pulled out your laptop and plugged it into the office system you logged into everything using the new password from the note and thus, your day began.

Your email had changed to your first initial and your last name @newedencasting.com, that would surely take some getting used to when you were handling phone calls. Although New Eden Metal Casting would just be an umbrella for the other casting departments that were under the previous owner - at least that was what you were assuming at this point in time until further notice.

In your email, there had some video tutorials sent to you for how to use the new programs the office was required to use now and once you watched them and started to get a hang of everything, you were finally able to start your work. Each new order, product question, or order status request was assigned as a case through this new program and you started getting to work, luckily your screen wasn't too bad for the time being.

While you were focused on work, your phone was sitting on the night stand and the screen started lighting up with message notifications from Rhema. You tapped on the screen to see some of the previews of the messages and you weren't really surprised at some of them.

RS: Is he there yet?

RS: What's he wearing?

RS: Send me a picture! I wanna see! I bet he's even more beautiful in person!

Then you noticed she sent a GIF with an animated character that had heart shapes for eyes, which caused you to chuckle, though you picked up the phone and started to message back.

YN: I can't just take a picture without his consent. That would be both rude and unprofessional. Plus I don't really want to interact with him and be tense at my own job.

Shortly after that there was another reply.

RS: Fineeeee, I guess I'll have to just take to Google or Pinterest.

You couldn't help but to roll your eyes a little before you placed your phone on the stand once more and resumed your work. Then you started hearing some footsteps. A couple of sets of them rather than one and you heard some voices.

"When was the last times those machines have been replaced? Some of them look old." You recognized Jensen's voice now that you've binged some of his previous work.

"They've been here for about as long as I've been here. So I'd say maybe fifteen years or so. We get them inspected every year to see of they have any faults and repair accordingly but I'm not sure we've ever had them replaced." You didn't recognize the other voice but you were positive it was one of the managers in the manufacturing and production department.

You supposed Jensen wasn't going to waste any time in making changes, but if it's been a long time since the machines have been replaced, maybe it was time to make some changes, not that you really paid much attention. Although, now that you've thought about it, Some of your emails last week did have to deal with some product returns because of manufacturing errors.

As you clicked on one of the cases and began to read the email you could still hear Jensen and the other individual discussing the machines before they stepped into the office right beside your cubicle and one of them shut the door. You had almost forgotten Jensen was practically right beside you for the next five days.

As you handled more emails and closed more cases whenever they showed up on the screen, you realized that there was an email that required you to actually go and talk to the engineering department. So, you printed off a sheet that was in the email and went to the printer that was conveniently by the engineer in your department.

Once you made it to his office, you knocked on the door before calling out: "Dylan?"

Once Dylan heard his name he turned around in his chair and looked over at you, "Whatcha got?"

You smiled a little. Dylan was probably one of the nicer guys there, despite his reputation for being a little rough around the edges. When you first started working he did intimidate you but once you started learning from him, you discovered he really wasn't that bad of a guy. He was one of those hard-to-read people that doesn't tolerate a whole bunch of nonsense, but Natalie said he liked you so that was enough for you to not feel s stressed anytime you needed to ask him a question.

"I've got this rep that has a customer in the paper industry wanting to order a few gears but they go beyond the biggest size we've got. Do you know if there's gonna be some new molds coming in with gears that have a bigger circumference than we've got now?" You asked and you handed him the paper that has the blueprints from that email.

Dylan took the pages from you and looked over the part they were needing before he went to the New Eden website, which you were stunned they changed it that quickly but it looked to have the other business branches still in tact including yours. You watched as Dylan typed the gear model into the search bar and started looking into alternative options.

"I haven't heard anything about getting new molds anytime soon so for now they're gonna need to contact one of the other departments that will have a gear in the size they need. Forward that email to me and I'll do some digging to get them to the right part they need." He answered as he handed the page back to you.

"Thanks!" You grinned and he nodded a little in his typical stoic way before he went back to checking his other emails, so you left his office.

As you started walking you couldn't help but hear some of the other Customer Service members talking.

"Did you see the way he was dressed? I didn't think he'd be that casual after his first impression on Friday." One of them said but you couldn't pinpoint who it was. But you knew they were talking about Jensen.

"He seems friendly though, still want to know why he's spending an entire week here. As a CEO you'd think he'd have other people come by and just observe the place and then email him about what they think of the place. Still makes it tense just the fact that he's here." Well, you supposed it was good to know you weren't the only one nervous about working with him here.

"Well at least it's only for a week and then everything can just go back to normal." A third person said and you shrugged a little to yourself before you started making your way back to your little cubicle.

That was when an office door opened and both Jensen and the man he was talking to earlier stepped out. You nearly froze in your tracks since you didn't want to bump into either of them and sure enough, you saw the more casual way Jensen was dressed with the black long sleeved shirt and a pair of jeans. Maybe he was going to make some frequent visits to the shop floor. You supposed you could understand not wanting to get nicer clothes dirty if he was spending his time in the manufacturing area.

When the other guy left, you had assumed Jensen would follow him out of the office area but instead he stayed but before returning to his office, he turned and he caught a glimpse of you. He gave a little grin and slight wave, which you returned with a little wave back before he went to his office and shut the door again. You assumed it was for some kind of virtual meeting.

"That was awkward..." You muttered under your breath before you walked to your desk so you could forward that email to Dylan.

Jensen had just finished his third meeting of the day and he knew the company would need to buy new machines so they wouldn't have faulty parts returned to them. As soon as he found out there had been more product returns last year bleeding into this year he knew he'd have to find a way to fix that as soon as possible, and when he walked onto the shop floor that morning he noticed there were more waste with the wax parts within the first part of the casting process and that had to've been part of the reason for delayed shipment. So one of the first machines Jensen wanted to get taken care of were the was presses.

By the time noon finally came around Jensen remembered he'd told Hyden to order lunch for everyone before they'd clock out for their breaks. So he walked out of his office and realized the workers had gotten their lunches from wherever Hayden ordered from and Jensen decided to walk around, stretch his legs after those meetings.

He didn't get very far though since he saw you at your cubicle. You seemed so zoned-in with your work. If a fire alarm were to go off he wondered if you'd even pay it any attention. Then when he thought about it, he didn't think he'd heard you really speak much that morning unless you were on the phone.

Jensen walked up to your cubicle and observed the way you were typing away like there wasn't any tomorrow. He raised a brow before he cleared his throat a little before speaking.

"Y/N, right?"

He could tell you were a little thrown off since your typing had faltered.

"Yes Sir." You'd answered and wrapped up the email and sent it off before you turned in your chair and looked up at him.

"Is there.. something I can help you with?" Jensen sensed the awkwardness in your tone and he chuckled a little.

"First off you can relax. And quit with the 'Sir' stuff. Making me feel like I'm in my eighties or something." Then he noticed you break your poker face and a smile tugged at your lips even if it was subtle.

"Just wanted to see if the new program was giving you guys any problems. I know a lot of changes were made over the weekend and wanted to know how the CSR department was adjusting."

You nodded a little as he spoke and you tucked a strand of loose hair behind your ear since it must've strayed from the bun you were wearing.

"So far it's not too much of an adjustment on my end. It's similar to the program we used before but the tutorial videos that were sent this morning did help a lot." You answered and Jensen nodded a little. That had to be the most he'd ever heard you speak before, then again he hadn't been there that long.

Jensen wasn't quite sure what to make of you. You seemed to have a lot of indifference and from the looks of it, you spoke only when you were spoken to.

He glanced around your cubicle and started to observe.

"How long have you been working here?" He asked curiously and you paused as if you were trying to think about it.

"December 2nd would make four years." You replied.

"So when do you plan on moving into this place?" He recalled how plain looking it was when he peeked in your space Friday.

This question seemed to catch you by surprise and Jensen saw you look around your little area then he noticed the way you rubbed the back of your neck.

"Not sure. I guess I haven't really thought about personalizing this place. I'm sort of plain in that sense I guess." Jensen managed to get a chuckle out of you while you responded and he smiled a little.

“Well… think about it a little more. A plant could brighten this place up a bit, plus it’s supposed to help produce oxygen and everything.” Jensen said and he heard you chuckle a little.

“I’ll give it some thought.”

“Good… I’ll let you get back to it. If you need anything… you know where I’ll be.” Jensen insisted, gesturing to his temporary office before walking away from your spot and onto his next destination.

Eventually he came across Natalie's office, recalling she was the CSR lead. He may have to pocket that information for later. Who knew when he'd her. After roaming around the office and conversing with some of the other office workers, Jensen found himself out on the shop floor where everything would be manufactured.

Jensen was lucky that he remembered his safety glasses were dangling from the collar of his shirt so he put them on as he continued to walk around. All around him, he heard machines grinding and almost groaning with each step of the process of work being done.

He watched as one of the workers walked from their wax press and went over to some large metal box. When the door opened, Jensen saw the man reaching into the box and he pulled our a large, cylindrical tube that seemed to be filled with already melted wax before walking over to an older looking press. It seemed so outdated and old, making the process so much slower but on the flipped side, it sort of made Jensen nostalgic because this was the exact kind of machine he used when he first started in the casting industry as part of the manufacturing team.

Jensen remembered having to reach into some large, rectangular heated box that had similar cylindrical tubes filled with already melted wax. Jensen also remembered how he burned his hands the first couple of times because he didn't know what he was doing during the training process. Obviously it got better with time and he found out ways to install the tube into the press without burning himself.

Jensen also remembered the countless hours he spent at the press making all sorts of parts and making sure the wax parts came out just right. There was no room for error unless he wanted the metal piece to turn out terrible looking at the end of the casting process. There were so many times he had to make sure the wax was cooled off just right to handle in order to clean off the edges, but not so cold that it would easily break in his hands. It was sort of tough to learn the right techniques at fist but Jensen was glad he got the experience.

But that was all back in 2007 or so, the mid 2000s after he stopped acting and right before he went to school for business. So yeah, that machine was definitely outdated and he noticed there were two others in the factory that needed to be changed out for newer machines. One of the meetings this morning pretty much made that official and now it's a matter of finding a good deal on a few of the machines and how fast they'd be able to get them here.

Eventually, Jensen made it to the quality department and saw the quality team inspecting some of the items before they'd go off to shipping.

"How's everything looking?" Jensen asked one of them and she looked up.

This girl had bright red hair and freckles across her face, bold green eyes behind the safety glasses. When Hayden was introducing Jensen to everyone on Friday, this girl had introduced herself as Amber.

"So far everything's looking good. Had a couple of returns but the items were able to go to stock and we can resell those items. But there were a couple of other orders that were supposed to be replacement orders and some of the parts were iffy at best." She explained with a shrug before going to one of the boxes she had inspected before pulling out one of the items.

"From the looks of it, the wax process was the problem and whoever approved the parts to go to through the rest of the casting process seriously slacked off. Whoever was at press three didn't wait long enough for the was to cool down so in these metal fittings there are a couple of dents and imperfections." She explained as she handed the part to Jensen to inspect for himself.

Jensen took the part and looked at the piece, noticing what went wrong. Inside the opening of the fitting he could see there were some problems and on the outside there were little dents that looked kind of like fingerprints from where someone was having trouble getting the fitting out of the mold during the wax process.

"We're looking into getting new machines soon so this doesn't happen. Looks like some of the machines can't cool the wax fast enough. Plus whoever was on the inspection side needs to be trained better and know it's things like this to watch out for so they could have the wax station redo those parts. You said press three?" Jensen question and he got a nod from Amber.

Jensen recalled walking by that machine and it was another old one they'd be replacing at some point, preferably sooner rather than later depending on how fast they'd be able to find the right that's close by.

Just before Jensen was about to say something to Amber, his phone started to ring. So he handed the fitting back over to Amber to put back in that returned order pile before answering and started walking back towards the main office area.

"Hello?"

"Mr. Ackles, we found a company that can make sure we can get at least one new press here in about three weeks. But the other two you want to replace would be about a month and a half away." Hayden said from the other line.

"What are they asking for those machines?" Jensen asked and when Hayden told them the price they were looking for, Jensen thought about it.

"Send the company's info to me via email but let's do a little mor price checking. It doesn't have to be a local company. It does sound like a good deal to keep in mind though." Jensen said before concluding the phone call and hung up the phone. Then a few minutes later his phone lit up again with an email with the company's information from Hayden.

"Definitely a start." Jensen muttered to himself as he used his badge and pressed it against the black scanner next to the corridor leading to the main office area before entering.

Another day was finally over, but you had to admit it was a much better start to the week than you were expecting. And it was a lot better then the previous week for sure despite having to learn new programs and make sure the reps were sending their orders to the correct emails.

As you were packing up your belongings you couldn't help but hear some of the other CSR ladies talking as they were packing their things and clocking out for the day.

"He's a lot more relaxed than I thought he would be. For sure means business with the changes in the factory floor though. Those new machines will help the department a lot." One of the ladies spoke.

"Still, don't you think he's too pretty of a guy to be in this kind of business? My sister did some looking on the internet and found out he was an actor in the 90s and early 2000s. He was dreamy for sure, he should've stuck with that!" Another lady said.

You were sure a certain roommate of yours would say the same thing.

As you were walking towards the door, the ladies whom those voices belonged to were behind you and before you knew it they addressed you as well.

"Y/N, what do you think of Mr. Ackles?"

All you could really do was shrug. Frankly what happened that afternoon around lunch was the most you got out of Jensen and you were shocked that he even came to talk to you after you aimed to stay under his radar. Then again you initially failed to account for the fact that his office was practically next to your own.

"Oh come on, you have to have some kind of opinion about him, more than just a shrug at least!"

You thought about it and pursed your lips while you opened the door and the three of you started walking outside to your cars.

"I don't know really. I mean he's trying to be approachable which I think is important. Better than flaunting your authority and intimidating people on purpose." You finally replied.

“That’s a suck up’s answer. What do you really think of him. Like if he wasn’t like everybody’s boss, what do you think?”

You tried to think, really think about it. Even you had to admit he was attractive when he was younger. Sure he was definitely something to look at even now you supposed. What else would they want you to say?

“He’s… cute I guess? I really don’t know what to tell you other than he’d be just another guy outside of work.” You said and the other girls just snickered at you.

“You wouldn’t try hitting on him or anything like that if he were just another guy and you both just happened to be at a bar?” One of them asked, causing you to get a little flustered.

“Probably not.” You chuckled nervously, putting your hands in the pockets of your cardigan. It was an honest answer though; you weren’t exactly the one that would make the first move in public. Or in any situation for that matter if you were completely honest with yourself.

“Anyways… I’d better go. See you both tomorrow.” You rushed to your car before they could ask you anymore questions about the CEO. You were just ready to go home and maybe make some tea.

Once you finally made it home, you took your shoes off and hung your keys on the little key rack that was beside the door.

“Finally! You made it back! I thought you’d never get here! I got you a little surprise.” Rhema exclaimed with so much excitement in her eyes, you had to admit the suddenness took you by surprise.

“Um… a surprise? Did I miss something?” You asked and she giggled at you.

The next thing you knew, Rhema was walking out of her bedroom with a box in her hand and there was a corner of a blanket draped on the outside of it.

“No. But I figured sometimes you may need a little company on weekends where you want to stay here and when I’m covering shifts at work.” Your roommate explained, causing you to grow a little skeptical as she walked over with the box.

“Well? Take a peek!” She giggled and that was when you heard a little noise, almost like a whine or a high pitched squeak. You couldn’t exactly pinpoint the description of the sound. But it certainly caught your interest and you slowly peered into the box.

When you looked inside you saw a small, short haired, blue eyed, calico kitten that couldn’t be bigger than your own hand. You could feel your heart soften at the sight of the little creature looking around the small surroundings of the box before it looked up at you. You couldn’t help but break out into a smile when it started to make that noise again before you reached into the box to pick up the kitten.

“Oh my gosh, Rhema!” You said, stunned that there was even a kitten in the house. You weren’t expecting to come home to something like this. The kitten continued to let out those little noises as you held it in your hands.

“You need to work on your little meow. Otherwise you’ll be stuck sounding like a squeaky toy.” You said and Rhema giggled.

“Do you like her?” Rhema inquired and you looked up at your friend who seemed so eager to keep her.

“I do. She’s precious. Thank you.” You smiled and she set the box down and you gave her a little side hug since your other hand was occupied with this kitten.

“Oh I hoped you would! The landlord is already okay with us having her, the pet fee has already been taken care of. All that you need to worry about now is giving her a name.” Rhema continued as she let go of the hug.

“Sounds like you had this all planned out, huh?” You chuckled and took a seat on the couch. When you did, the little kitten started climbing up one of the sleeves of your cardigan. You snickered a little before you pried the little creature from your sleeve and set it down in your lap.

“Well… I wanted to get her for you last week since it sounded awful but I couldn’t do that. But I was able to stop by the pet store again today and lucky for us she was still there so I picked her up and brought her here!” Rhema admitted and sat down next to you, then she reached over and used her first two fingers to rub the top of the kitten’s head.

“Now all that’s left to think about now is what you’ll name her.” Rhema spoke.

You looked down at the little creature in your lap that was circling around before laying down like a little cinnamon roll. Your head tilted a little to the side as you started to pet the little kitten, slightly surprised that it seemed to be getting used to you already. After all it wasn’t like you were some sort of Disney Princess or whatever that had animal powers.

“I may have to do some thinking about that.” You admitted and you could hear the kitten purring, causing you to grin to yourself.

“I gotcha. Maybe sleep on it tonight. But don’t take too long! We can’t call it cat forever.” Rhema snickered and you grinned, nodding in agreement as you continued to pet the new little addition to the apartment.

“So… how did things go today? Still rough from last week?” Your roommate asked, so you began to list off some of the things that happened that day.

You told her about how it was a little easier than last week, how some things needed a little adjustment with everything as far as the new systems, rumors of new machines, more rumors of new vendors to sell the product for the different brands under New Eden. Then you proceeded to tell her about how Jensen actually came and talked to you a bit and even suggested to decorate your cubicle area. You still weren’t sure if you would do that or not. Then you told her about the questions your coworkers were asking you and you finally went home.

“Wait, why wouldn’t you ask him out if you didn’t work together?” Rhema asked, although you doubted that was the only question on your mind.

“That’s what you got out of that? I’m just not that kind of person and you know that. Plus I wouldn’t have been in the bar in the first place so that scenario wouldn’t have even made sense for me.” You said and Rhema scoffed a little before she rolled her eyes.

“So, you gonna decorate after all and make it more your own? I’ve been suggesting you do that for years - ever since you first started pretty much.” Your roommate said and leaned back into the couch before she grabbed the remote and turned on the TV.

“I’m not sure… wouldn’t it seem unprofessional?” You asked while Rhema turned on Smallville, returning to your binge watching since you two didn’t complete the series over the weekend.

“You’re kidding, right? The CEO even said you needed to liven the place up. No, it’s not unprofessional. Tons of people do a little decorating in their desk area. This weekend we’ll go to the store and get you some plants or something. Maybe we’ll get you some little lights to hang around the border of your cubicle.”

Smallville’s theme started playing through the speakers and you had to admit you found some moments throughout the day where that would be in your head for a while before a phone call would interrupt your thoughts. You did start to like Jensen’s character though since you and Rhema just got to the first few episodes he was in.

“As long as you don’t send me to work with pictures of Jensen to hang on my walls from his acting days, I think we’ll be good.” You laughed and Rhema giggled too.

“No but you and your coworkers should take some of those pictures and print out tiny copies to hide throughout the office for him to find. He sounds light-hearted enough to get a kick out of a little prank like that.”

“I’m sure some of them may have thought about that already. It’s just a matter of if they can print out those pictures without getting caught. Unless they have their own personal printers at home and they can print them there.”

“I really hope they do! You should suggest it to them! Gives you some sort of thing to talk with them about too!” You smiled a little.

“Yeah I suppose.” You said, still a little unsure of whether or not that would happen, and you felt the little calico kitten squirming a little in your lap, causing you to look down at her.

“I really should come up with a name for you.” You admitted.

“By the way… How do you feel about blind dates?” Rhema asked sort of out of the blue, causing you to glance over at her.

“What are you talking about? You didn’t arrange anything did you?” You questioned.

“No no, I didn’t arrange anything yet. But…. I have this coworker that has a brother as well as a friend. They are both single and supposedly cute but I’ve never seen pictures of either of them. It’s just an idea my coworker had and I told her that I had a roommate that’s single too and maybe it could be some kind of double-blind date.” Rhema said and you lifted about brow.

“Uh, no. I bet this is the real reason why she brought you home, Little Critter.” You looked down at the kitten who let out a little squeaky sound in response.

“It’s not! Can you at least think about it? I mean if not I’ll still go on the blind date but I just thought this could be something we could do together.” Rhema spoke and you looked back at Rhema, then over to the television screen.

Several thoughts were going through your mind. A blind date? Really? What if something didn’t work out? What if something went wrong and you made a fool of yourself?

“Rhema… I really don’t know…”

Rhema pouted a little before she poked at your shoulder, “Hey… if a date seems a little intimidating for you… then we don’t have to call it that. Maybe consider it like you’re going as my moral support? A chaperone even? I mean… a blind date is a scary idea for me too. I’m used to at least knowing the guy before agreeing to go out with them. I wouldn’t know if this guys is some kind of creep and if he is, I don’t exactly wanna be by myself for that.”

“Well… when you put it that way…” You trailed off as you looked at the kitten again.

“It’s not like it’s supposed to happen tomorrow, right now it’s nothing but an idea.” She told you and you nodded a little. You could tell she was trying to put your mind at ease, which you were thankful for.

“I’ll think about it. After all, I can’t hand my roommate over to a couple of kidnappers, can I?” You joked and Rhema broke out into a smile before she wrapped her arms around your shoulders and hugged you.

“Great! Let me know what you think by Wednesday. Maybe we can go out Friday night if nothing else.” Rhema insisted and you smiled a little.

“Wednesday… got it.”

Tag List:

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[sopiloveshobi]

Brown beanie

One shot written for my friend Grace, please note that this is made up of pure fiction and none of the events are real. 4k word count, no warnings, absolute fluff of how you meet Joon in a gallery.

It’s been a really tough week. The weather was really bad, if it didn’t rain then it was still really miserable outside. Work has been insane, you just had a really big fight with one of your best friends and everything seemed to be going downhill this week. So on a Friday night you have made the plan for Saturday to go on a small retreat, one on one with yourself. Just you, your favourite book and a local coffee shop. Very cliché but it was the only way for you to disconnect. It has been ages since the last time you have done it and this time you decided to enhance the experience and leave your phone behind. You have been glued to some kind of screen for the past few days. You didn’t want to be bothered, there wasn’t anything you had planned with anyone, so surely nobody would mind for you to leave it behind. Besides, you’re an adult and you can do whatever you please.

You made yourself tea in your favourite mug, which was slightly chipped and the handle was slowly falling apart but it was the definition of home for you and almost like a tradition. Night time tea in this particular mug. Every night. You grabbed your laptop and you slid under the covers with your really hot tea which you almost spilled on yourself and your sage green sheets. ‘Shhhhh, I never learn’ you moaned to yourself when you saw few drops of tea on your lap. You wiped it with a tissue and put the mug down on the bedside table. Back to your laptop, you went through the map of nearby cafes and restaurants but nothing has really sparked your interest. You kept going further and further outside of the town and finally, there it was. A café and an art gallery in one. I must have been newly opened, because you haven’t seen it before and you used to spend quite some time in this area of the town. You wrote the address on a tiny piece of paper and you put it to the side. Closed the laptop and finished your tea.

The morning seemed a little bit better than the entire week before. It wasn’t fully sunny but it wasn’t raining and the clouds had some holes in them so you could see the potential of a somewhat nice day. You opened your very tired and old tote bag and you put a folded umbrella just in case. You have learned your lesson too many times before. Since you decided the day before to leave your phone behind, you were leaving your smart watch as well and settling on a very basic watch with a brown leather strap. Simple outfit, light make up. You weren’t planning on spending too much time on how you look, you were going on a detox and relaxing date with yourself.

Bag on your shoulder, sunglasses on top of your head just in case the sun decided to come out. You headed out.

The town was busy, it seemed busy and loud. But maybe it was only the impression since it was first time in weeks that you haven’t had your headphones in and you weren’t staring at your phone. Everything seemed more intense than usual. You shook your head and walked on down the road to finally approach a bus stop. You checked the schedule and looked at your watch, 5 minutes to wait for the next one. Pretty lucky, as there isn’t usually a lot of those leaving around this time of the day. ‘Half ten’ you thought to yourself. By the time you get to the place it should be around 11. You were hoping there won’t be too many people around for lunch, and that you will be able to get a nice comfy spot for yourself right before the madness of a lunch time will approach. The bus arrived and you hopped on, swiftly finding a spot at the back. You grabbed the book you had in your bag and decided to use the time to start reading. ‘Pachinko’ Min Jin Lee on the cover. You’ve heard it’s a really good book and a lot of people recommended it to you, you just didn’t have the time to actually sit down and read it. You bought it ages ago and it was just sat on the table in your kitchen, waiting for exactly today.

After a good few minutes of the journey, the bus stopped for another stop. You intuitively looked up from your book and saw a tall man with a brown beaning and sunglasses on top of it discussing something with the driver. He looked really confused but after a few seconds he nodded, smiled politely and got onto the bus. You returned to your read not thinking much of it. Few more stops and it was finally your turn to get off. You got up, still holding dear to the book that has been slowly consuming you as you were getting through the pages. You walked towards the door and because you weren’t paying any attention to your surroundings you bumped into the person that was getting off before you. You looked up.

‘I’m really sorry! I didn’t mean to, my bad’ you quickly recited your apology and hoped the person in front of you won’t make a lot of fuss.

‘No worries’ said the man in front. ‘Strange accent’ you thought to yourself and then you looked up and saw the brown beanie and sunglasses on top; then you looked at his face and you saw a really pretty smile, his eyes in half moons and dimples painted really close to his smiling lips. You smiled back, a little bit surprised and startled. You smiled back and moved ahead of him to leave the bus. You shook your head few times, almost like trying to erase his face from in front  of your eyes. You walked few steps away from the bus stop and opened your tote to look for the piece of paper you wrote the address on the day before. Completely analogue style, without a phone or google maps how to get to place you checked out before. Finally, after a long struggle with your bag you manage to find the tiny piece of paper with scribbled address. You looked around and you saw the building which looked very similar to what you have seen the day before on the pictures.

‘Perfect’ you whispered to yourself and walked a very steady walk towards the door. The breeze of the air felt really nice on your skin, the sun decided to come out at least for few minutes and the warmth of it made you feel a little bit relaxed as you headed to the door. You got really sucked into the book and you haven’t had your coffee yet so this was the perfect morning for you. Far away from anyone you might know and bump into, all alone, no phone. Perfection.

You walked inside, really cosy feeling has gone over you. Familiar smell of coffee, really old wooden floors and high ceilings. Only few tables and chairs, none of them taken and a very happy to see you lady behind the till.

‘Hey, welcome in! What can I get for you?’ she started right away with a big smile on her face. ‘I wish I was as perky as her’ you thought to yourself and it made you realise how burnt out from work and everything in your life you were. The way she was - was normal, the way you felt was normal but also wasn’t. It needed healing and fresh start and a break from everything. You kept staring at the menu for a few more minutes just to take in the feeling that the entire place was giving you, even though you knew from the start what are you going to order.

‘Flat white please. It’s my first time here, how do I get to the gallery? Is it open?’ you returned to the lady with a slight smile on your face and excitement building inside you. That’s how you felt about a lot of things before you started working. Art, books, good coffee, long walks. Life used to feel light and free and now it feels really heavy.

‘It’s open, if you are the customer of the café it’s free of charge. It’s not a very big deal up there though, we only have few pieces at the moment. Please take a seat and I will get your drink ready’ she seemed so warm, so welcoming. This is exactly what you were looking for. You looked around the place to find the right spot for you and your Pachinko. You gazed around few more times and you decided to settle on a table in the corner with two chairs. Not in the way of anyone, just on the side and also close to enough to the till to get a refill. Because that was a guarantee. You will have more than one coffee here. It felt so right. Empty but warm and homey. Empty but full. You opened your book and started reading right away. The lovely lady brought you your order, which you nodded and smiled at her for without making a sound, you were so invested in your read.

Just like you predicted, the closer it gotten to lunch time the more people started turning up. Most of them only to order a coffee to go, few of them went straight to the gallery part and only one person actually sat down. A really old lady with her dog, which kept trying to jump on her seat.

You finished your second cup of coffee and you were about half way through your book. That was enough for now, besides you kept looking up to the stairs where all the people were going to see the art pieces in the gallery. And you were really interested into seeing what does it look like upstairs. You closed your book, holding it in your hand you carefully got upstairs. The lady at the till definitely downplayed the way this part of looked like because the room in front of you was a really long space, looking like three rooms merged into one. White walls, wooden floors and beautiful light fixtures coming down from the ceiling. There was at least 10 pieces hung on the walls and few benches in the middle, to sit and admire. Very cosy set up but very beautiful and breath taking even with it being on the smaller size. The art was big, the rooms didn’t have to be.

You have started on your left and carefully studied each piece, top to bottom, left to right. You felt yourself recharging and feeling like yourself again only after few minutes around all of these beautiful paintings. You finished the entire left side and you were about to start on the right side, you turned around in one go and walked before you looked. You felt your nose being squished across a soft fabric, a fresh scent of shower gel and really nice fabric softener surrounded you, when you realised you bumped into someone. Again!

‘I’m really sor…’ you started when you looked up from your feet and there he was. The man from the bus, brown beanie and sunglasses on top. You blushed, because he was staring directly into your eyes. You bumped into him twice. Two times. Two times in two different places. For a second you kept staring back at him, your cheeks turning slightly red and you felt this tiny pop of electricity traveling from his eyes to yours. Or from your eyes to his. He recognised you and he smiled again. He smiled the same way he did on the bus. You couldn’t forget his dimples, his eyes in half moons still and this time he smiled with his teeth. And his full smile was even more breath taking than the one you received before.

‘No worries’ he repeated himself ‘I think you must be really clumsy or..’ he added this time and giggled a little. You were a little bit too stunned to speak. He was gorgeous and he was tall and you could see his dark hair poking out from his beanie. His beautiful brown eyes looking straight at you.

‘Or?’ you responded too playfully. You didn’t even plan on saying anything back, but for some reason this was the only thing that came out of you automatically.

‘Or we were really meant to have a conversation today’ he blinked, almost like refreshing the connection between your and his eyes. You gasped. You immediately looked away and squeezed the book in your arms, pulling it closer to your chest. ‘Pachinko?’ he looked down on the front page of the book you were holding. You nodded. ’Great book. Good choice. This please is also great, you seem to have good taste’ he noticed. Good tase? What does that even mean. Does this mean he like those things? He like the book and the gallery you both were standing in?

‘Thanks, I just started it today actually..’ you became a little bit braver. You were trying really hard to not play the shy character for once in your life.

'I'm usually the clumsy one, so it's really refreshing to see someone else having similar issues to mine' he giggled under his breather and he slightly bowed his head and moved on to looking back at the pieces. You were a little bit surprised and taken back. How rude of him to move on, you were just in a middle of a conversation. You moved on to the painting next to the one he was just looking at. You saw him pull his phone out and taking a picture of it. Now you really regretted not taking your phone with you. It wouldn’t be a bad idea to take a picture of him and that painting. Two art works next to each other. And as you thought of it, he started back at you from his side of the gallery. Smug face and the stare drilling down into your eyes. The small electric feeling went through you again and you got butterflies in your stomach. ‘What the hell is going on?’ you thought to yourself and you smiled at him lightly and went back to admiring the art. You started ignoring him and fully taking in what was in front of you. He sat down on the bench and was admiring you. Well you thought that was the case, but he might have been admiring the piece you were currently looking at. It was difficult to tell because you really didn’t want to turn around. And then you heard the phone taking another picture. You turned around and you saw him smiling at his phone, the phone aimed at you and the painting.

‘You look great, let me send it over to you’ he gasped at your confused face.

‘I-…’ you looked down on your feet. The damn phone. Of course. ‘I didn’t take it from home. I’m having a field day with my book and decided to have no phone day’ you proudly admitted to him, nodding your head afterwards almost like your confirming that it was a good idea (it wasn’t). You turned around and walked towards him and you saw his expression change. He clenched his jaw and looked away. You saw him slightly blushing but you decided to not mention it.

‘Let me see though’ you said and peeked through his arm. It was a really nice picture of you in front of a painting. Really admiring it. The colours were in similar tones and it made it look like a small art piece itself. ‘How about I give you my email and you can send it there?’ you proposed because you really liked the picture. There was no intent behind your proposal. You had no idea who he was, he didn’t know who you were either.

‘Sure thing’ he was a bit taken a back but wrote down your email address and promised to send the picture to you.

‘Thanks a lot!’ you answered and got up from the bench and continued walking towards the next paintings that were further down the room. You continued to admire the other pieces and he kept kind of lingering behind you, also taking his time and taking pictures of some other pieces handing on the other side of the gallery. It felt so comforting with him in the same room, at the same time really peaceful.

You were looking at few of the emails from work that came through you personal email. Then you saw an email from kim.namjoon@ and you turned your head. You have no idea who that is so you automatically thought it was spam. You did open the email and expected ‘Dear customer, you won 1million gbp’ but instead you saw yourself in front of the huge painting in the gallery few days ago. It was him. You completely forgot that you asked him to send it to you. Well he asked you but you didn’t have your phone with you. You scrolled down the picture and below there was a line underneath: Coffee tomorrow at 6, same place? – Joon

Did this really hot guy from the gallery the other day is asking you out? And his name is Joon? You blinked twice. He was different and you really wanted to say yes right away but you hesitated. And then you closed your eyes and remember the energy between the two of you and the staring competition that ended in chemistry growing between you two like crazy.

‘See you there’ you responded to his email.

He was walking back and forth in front of the café, looking around nervously. He was really nervous, he had no idea whether you are going to show up or not. But there you were, walking down the road and smiling at him from a far. His heart sunk when he saw you and then a feeling of relief came right after. You approached him and said ‘hey stranger’, you teased but he still seemed really stiff and nervous. ‘Are you okay?’ you asked without waiting for his answer. He looked really pale on his face.

‘Yeah, fine. Lets get inside please’ he slightly smiled and opened the door for you. You walked inside and almost like it was a habit went towards the corner table that you took few days before. You sat down and he sat down in front of you. ‘So now you know’ he started. You shook your head and your eyes turned into question marks. Know what? What is going on.

‘Know what sorry?’ you asked him, trying to find answer in his eyes but he wasn’t really looking at you. He was avoiding eye contact as much as he could.

‘You don’t know?’ he looked up and met your face. He smiled, his expression completely changed but you were now freaked out. You had no idea what he was referring to and he seemed so cryptic and nervous.

‘I thought you googled my name. I didn't mean to send the email from my personal address, i just hit sent and...’ he sighted loud and grabbed the sunglasses from his brown beanie. He was wearing the same hat but the shirt was different.

‘I have not, but whatever it is..’ you started but he gave you his phone.

‘Might as well get it out of the way’ he muttered and he looked away from you. You took his phone in your hands and looked through the search results. A K-pop global 21st century star RM of BTS (also knowns as Kim Nam Joon). You looked up. You looked at him and then and the pictures that were linked to the search. Right. He is a someone famous. He is really famous and you are sitting in front of him. ‘Do not panic. Do not get star stuck. He is just a guy’ you told yourself in your head and you politely gave him his phone back, trying so hard for your hands to not shake. ‘Can we please keep this quiet?’ he whispered looking really worried.

‘Of course’ you nodded and smiled politely. He was still really nervous. And it didn’t seem to change even after you confirmed that you won’t start making fuss about him. Did he then not ask you out? Was it just to check if I found out who he was? ‘Was this why you wanted to see me?’ you gulped a little bit too loud than anticipated.

‘I wanted to see you again, like I said it seemed right that we met last time didn’t it?’ he added still nervous and put his phone away to his pocket. You were stunned again. This man really seemed to believe in fate. He got up from his chair ‘What do you drink?’ he smiled as he continued walking towards the till.

‘Flat white please’ you answered. You weren’t sure what was going on but his presence thug at something inside you. You felt this warmth and sincerity from him, incredible peace that was beaming from him even though he seemed tense.

‘Two flat whites to go please’ he ordered and came back to sit at the table ‘I hope you don’t mind a walk?’ you smiled and nodded again. It’s almost like you couldn’t really say anything. He was really famous and he actually did ask you out? He wasn’t cocky, he wasn’t harsh. He was so soft and warm.

You both picked up the coffee cups and left the place. And just like that you kept wandering around the streets drinking coffee and discussing all the paintings you have seen the other day. And then you started talking about Pachinko and you realised he did know the book really well and he was really fond of it. And he felts so soft and warm and familiar. And every time he looked at you, the familiar electric pop happened and the both of you would get shy and one of you would look away. Until it became so comfortable that you just kept staring without words, continuing the aniticpation and chemistry flying between the two of you. And you ended up sitting under the tree in a park, he almost obsessively took pictures of clouds and the sky and you kept teasing him about it. But then the you finished your coffees and you kept staring at the part whilst sitting at the tree. And when you both finished telling the story one of you would just stare and the other would join and it would be a silent staring concert, just not the silly and funny one. But really warm and soft one. And eventually he couldn’t really wait nor he wanted to and he leaned forward. And you got a little bit startled at first but you closed your eyes and you could feel soft tip of his nose right next to yours, and his breath smelling like the coffee you just had right around you. Just then the world could not exist because this gorgeous man was about to kiss you. And he did. He pulled you closer and his lips touched yours and you opened your eyes for just a second and so did he. And when your eyes met you knew there is no need for being nervous anymore because it felt just right. His soft lips on yours, him pulling you closer, his beanie slightly sliding from his head as you grabbed his cheek and you both got lost in the kiss and in each others embrace.

'Joon..' you whispered when you finally managed to come up for air.

'Yes?' he asked and his voice was so soft, so domestic and he just sounded like he was ready to give you his entire world.

But you didn't say anything else and leaned back to kiss him again.

You have kissed the global popstar, a very famous person. A really handsome man who took a picture of you in the gallery few days ago. The man who felt like home, safety and warmth from the very first minute you were around him. And just like that Kim Namjoon has healed your burnt out and all of your problems went away, because he was kissing you under a tree after you had a coffee date that lasted hours.

[swanhurrem]

Cold

Embry Call x Reader (not use of y/n)

Summary: You have a terrible cold but you keep sinking in your work. Later Embry arrives from patrol and handles the situation himself.

A/N: I'm super excited because this is my first application, I'm flattered and nervous at the same time. Anyway I hope I did a good job, thank you very much. Enjoy🧚‍♀️

It had started quietly; a little cough here and there, accompanied by a slight headache. It was common living in such a cold place, and especially with the temperature variations with the ones you lived with. Because as soon as you fell asleep, Embry gently wrapped his arms around your waist, sticking to your back with his face hidden in your neck. It was impossible not to notice this when you woke up in the morning feeling that you had a heater behind you, so you started sleeping with a thinner blanket, keeping the rest in your closet. You had never mentioned this to him, even after several nights waking you up chattering in the cold, forcing you to get up and grab more blankets. You were catching a cold.

But two days later you started with a sore throat and mild congestion. That afternoon you were coming out of the bathroom after a refreshing shower when you saw Embry hanging up the phone and putting on his slippers.

He approached you and kissed you on the forehead "Sam told you to change places?" You asked, because it was very common for them to relay each other from time to time.

"No, I called Emily and she said she has some tea for the pain that will make you feel better, make sure you rest and I'll make dinner when I get back" he yelled as he walked away from you, ignoring your lies that you were getting better.

___________________

Embry did everything for you; he cleaned, washed, did the shopping and cooked. Since you became his imprint, he lived for you and always tried to save you as much work as possible, knowing that you only rested after finishing everything you had pending. He didn't like that you overloaded yourself with work and home things, so he did everything despite your annoyance, just to give you more free time (which you invested in your work).

Just a few days after he brought the thyme tea Emily had given him, you had taken a significant turn for the worse. When Embry got up at dawn to take his patrol shift with Quil, you pretended to be asleep. Knowing him, he would have stayed with you to take care of you, preventing you from doing your homework.

Just an hour later you still couldn't sleep because of the intermittent sneezing, so you got up and cleaned up a bit in your bathroom before grabbing your laptop and continuing with your work. You had next to you a mountain of disposable paper with which you blew your nose and a blanket that you took off and put on every so often, because both the cold and the heat came and went.

You knew that sometimes you gave your work more than you should, more than your body and mind allowed you, but this was your responsibility, something that you had to do day after day and show that you were capable enough to achieve it. and get better. People get sick worse and keep working, why would you stop for a simple cold?

_____________

You were in that hunched position for what seemed like hours until you heard the distinctive noise of the door opening; Embry used to tap it against all every time he came back from patrolling. So much so that he put up a doorstop, but it was still making a lot of noise.

He froze as soon as he saw you there, sitting at the kitchen table with a red nose, teary eyes, and dry lips.

"What are you doing?" He ask hanging the keys by the door

"You look like-"

"Do I look like?" You asked something defensively, you really didn't want to deal with the overprotective Embry now.

"Stunning like every day, but a bit tired" he said sitting next to you and placing the back of his hand on your forehead "You have a fever, how about you lie down for a while?"

You took a handkerchief while you blew your nose again "I can't sleep, I have things to do" you answered with a nasal voice.

Embry chuckled as he slowly moved the laptop away from you "I never said sleep darling, I said lay down" you could hear the tap of the keys that he press while he saved what you were doing during the last hours.

Your throat hurt so much that you blurted out just three words to him before you started coughing hard, feeling Embry's hands rubbing your back. He left a kiss on your head while he led to the couch, arranging the cushions so that your back was not against the wood of the armrest "How about you take a very little nap while I prepare dinner?"

You frowned at him "I have many things to do, my work is not finished yet and it won't do itself, it's wasted time"

You frowned at him "I have many things to do, my work is not finished yet and it will not be done by itself, it will be a waste of time"

He sighed and ran his hands nervously up her thighs before answer "Honey, you're pushing yourself and that's not good" he said softly.

You didn't answer anything, playing with the thread that came out of one of the green cushions.

After a few seconds avoiding talking to him, you felt Embry grab your chin, raising your head and forcing you to keep his gaze "You must understand that all your years of effort will not be wasted for a well-deserved night's rest, okay?"

You nodded as you took more paper, your tears about to escape. You weren't used to people taking so much weight off of you and you were really exhausted, so you decided to stop fighting and rest.

________

Embry woke you up later and you both ate soup he made himself, with ice cream for dessert, as he said it was great for your sore throat. And then, while you were lying down enjoying your favorite flavor of ice cream, Embry was next to you, writing on your laptop what you dictated and that you hadn't quite finished

______________

Buy me a coffee.

[feverishly-kpop]

Ateez Performance Line - Part 9

By the time Mingi woke up his room was dark and the apartment was silent. He glanced at his phone on his bedside table, surprised to find that it was only 8:00 PM. He then turned his attention to the unpleasant feeling in his stomach, unsure if he was feeling hungry or sick.

As he entered the common space Mingi chuckled at Wooyoung, Yeosang, and San on the couch, all completely dead to the world. It took just a few seconds for Seonghwa to see that Mingi was up again and usher him to the kitchen table, where Hongjoong was sitting with his laptop open, reviewing the upcoming weeks’s schedules.

“Did you sleep okay?” Seonghwa asked, placing a glass of water in front of Mingi. He couldn’t handle another dongsaeng suffering from fever dreams.

“Yeah” Mingi said with a nod. “My stomach feels off though” he added, absentmindedly rubbing his midsection.

“I made soup. Once you eat I’ll give you the medicine that the doctor prescribed for you” Seonghwa responded, already filling a small bowl. “The nausea tablets really helped Wooyoung and Yunho. Nothing else seemed to work until they tried them.”

Luckily for Mingi, the combination of the medication and his hyung’s seemingly magic soup truly did help settle his stomach back down. He joined Wooyoung, Yeosang, and San on the couch once they had woken up until Yunho managed to wander out of his room, leaning on the doorframe, still half asleep from the strong sleep aid he had been prescribed.

“Can I have some water?” Yunho asked groggily, causing San to leap up from the couch into the kitchen.

“Aish, go back to bed Yunho, I’ll bring it to you in a minute” San called out as he rummaged through the cupboard for a clean glass. Yunho retreated with a yawn and Hongjoong interjected.

“Going back to bed is a good idea for you two as well” he said, glancing at Wooyoung and Mingi.

“But I’m not sick anymore, I’m…” Wooyoung started before being shushed by Yeosang.

“You’re going to bed, that is what your doing” Yeosang said in a tone that nobody would dare argue with, grabbing Wooyoung’s wrist and pulling him to their shared room. “And you can have your room back, hyungs” Yeosang added.

Mingi wasn’t far behind, still feverish enough to have been exhausted by being out of bed, even just for a short time. Seonghwa elected to give him some space out of respect to get himself ready for bed before entering the dark room.

“Can I get you anything, Mingi?” Seonghwa asked, laying a cool compress across Mingi’s forehead. He sighed in relief before responding with a shake of his head, taking no time at all to fall back asleep.

*~*~*~*~*~

Normalcy began to return to the group the following day. Wooyoung was out the door for the first time in a week the moment the thermometer left his lips and Hongjoong confirmed that he had managed to keep his temperature down. Hongjoong quickly pulled out his phone, sending a warning text to Yeonjun:

“Wooyoung is on his way over, he hasn’t had a fever for 24 hours but please make sure he’s taking it easy. I can tell he’s still not feeling 100% but of course he won’t admit it.”

He quickly received a response:

“On it. We will lay low today.”

Hongjoong sighed with relief, knowing that, as the eldest member of his own group, Yeonjun would be responsible enough look after Wooyoung despite Wooyoung refusing to look after himself.

Yunho was the next up, still looking a bit rosy in the cheeks but much better than he had since he had come down with the flu.

“Good morning, sunshine” Seonghwa said as Yunho joined him at the kitchen table. “Did you sleep well?” he asked, already knowing the answer. Yunho had slept the majority of the afternoon the previous day and throughout the night, waking up only once the prior evening.

“Yeah, thanks” Yunho responded, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “That medicine really helped.”

Seonghwa was relieved when he rested a palm on Yunho’s forehead. “You’re still a bit warm but much less than before. Do you want to take another tablet and get some more sleep today?” Yunho looked unsure about how to respond. “I bet one more day of rest will take care of that fever once and for all” Seonghwa added before getting a tentative shrug from Yunho.

Just then Mingi emerged, taking the seat next to Yunho. “Take the rest while you can, you know our schedules are picking up soon and you’ll be wishing that you would have slept more now” Mingi said horsely, rubbing Yunho’s shoulder. Despite being unwell himself, Mingi knew that Yunho had really been through it over the past handful of days and that he needed Mingi’s support. “We can sleep in my bed and suffer together” Mingi joked, getting a chuckle from Yunho, who finally gave in.

Once Seonghwa had gotten both Mingi and Yunho properly fed and medicated, San set off to put Yunho back to bed in Mingi’s room. Mingi promised he’d be in soon despite knowing that Yunho would already be out like a light when he got there if his drooping eyes were any indication.

“That sleep aid really does get the job done” Mingi laughed as Yunho shuffled off with San behind him, hands on his shoulders guiding him in the direction of the bedroom.

Seonghwa sat back down across the table from Mingi, placing a cup of tea in front of each of them. His face looked a bit more serious than it had before.

“Mingi, we were really worried about you” he started, his “eldest hyung” mode fully activated.

“I’m sorry, hyung. But the deadline…” Mingi said defensively before being cut off by Seonghwa.

“It’s not that. Well, it’s not NOT that. But we are going to let that slide” Seonghwa responded, providing Mingi a with momentary sense of relief before coming to the realization that there must be something else.

“Why do you insist on shutting us out, time after time?” The question stung but Mingi couldn’t deny that Seonghwa was right. He took a moment to consider his answer.

“I don’t want to be a burden” Mingi finally replied. “Wooyoung and Yunho needed you and Hongjoong-hyung more than me.”

“Do you really think I was born yesterday? You know as well as I do that that’s not the full truth” Seonghwa was not about to drop the subject so easily.

Mingi sighed deeply, embarrassed to tell his hyung what was really on his mind. “I don’t want to be the weak link…” he started.

Despite being tempted to stop him right then and there, Seonghwa held his tongue and let Mingi continue.

“When I was on leave, I don’t know, it was just really hard. I came back and you guys had made a lot of new music and did Kingdom and met all of these people…” Mingi took a breath, trying to slow down his thoughts, which had inadvertently started to race. “Everybody was hanging out with people I’d never met and there were new inside jokes from promotions and I guess I felt like maybe Ateez was just fine without me. So I told myself when I came back that I’d never let myself be weak again.”

“You know that none of that is true, right?” Seonghwa’s voice cracked as he tried to hold back his tears. Mingi only shrugged in response.

“You’re right, we kept working while you were out, but it wasn’t the same. Wooyoung wouldn’t shut up about how our performance was lacking without you. It was unbearable” Seonghwa said, drawing a smile smile out of Mingi. “You’re part of this team, like it or not”

They sat in silence for a few moments before Seonghwa spoke up again.

“And as far as showing weakness, you’re a human, Mingi. You’re allowed to stumble. Nobody would ever judge you for it.” Seonghwa could tell that Mingi still wasn’t convinced. “When Wooyoung fell sick last week, were you upset with him? What about when you sent Yunho home? Did you feel like he was a disappointment?”

“No, no of course not” Mingi chimed in hastily. “They were really sick. It was out of their control.”

“Okay, we’ll now you’re really sick and that is out of your control” Seonghwa responded, feeling like he was finally getting through to his dongsaeng.

“Thanks, hyung. I’m sorry, again. I guess it’s something I’ll have to work on” Mingi said, truly meaning it.

“Don’t apologize” Seonghwa said, getting up from the table and putting his cup in the dishwasher. “But you’d better get going before that oversized puppy on sleep medication takes over your entire bed.”

*~*~*~*~*~

“This is really good, Mingi. How did you come up with this on your own?” Wooyoung asked after finishing the first run-through since the full team had returned to work now that the performance line had fully recovered.

“I didn’t…you were there when we choreographed this song. So was Yunho. You helped. Or I guess I should say you tried to help, but I don’t think you had any idea what was going on at that point…” Mingi replied, causing the rest of the members to erupt into laughter while Wooyoung covered his face in embarrassment.

“Well I had to re-choreograph the last song alone because it didn’t make any sense and you and Yunho were still too sick to help, so I guess we are even” Wooyoung retorted.

“Sorry I didn’t sleep for several days straight” Yunho said, throwing his hands up with mock indignation before throwing his arms around Seonghwa and pulling him into a hug.

“Excuse me, I think you mean that you’re sorry that WE didn’t sleep for several days straight! Because every time you woke up, I woke up too” Seonghwa joked in return, wiggling out of Yunho’s grasp.

“I don’t know who did what, but in all seriousness, the choreo is really awesome” Jongho said. The rest of the members piped in, all agreeing that Atiny would love their performances.

“Alright, let’s get back to work” Hongjoong said, heading back over to the computer to restart the track. “And let’s all try to stay healthy enough for Atiny to enjoy our performances while we’re on tour!”

And how could anybody disagree with that?

[aenslem]

do you have any advice for making gifs? i’ve become a fan of something that has barely any posts besides photos and for the first time ever a desire to make gifs came over me and honestly it’s kinda overwhelming so literally any tips would help, thank youuu

I do have a photoshop sideblog @creationsofthedark Whatever I write here is already reblogged there or posted, so you can check it out, just in case, I remember making a tutorial on how I make gifs, and tbh not really much changed since then. I know there are many ways to create gifs, however, I can speak only about the one I use.

Also suggest to check #photoshop tag on my blog, i might have answered some things about giffing process before that might be useful for you as well.

You need a device, program for screencaps and photoshop.

I use laptop, you can do the same on pc, if you have only ipad or phone then I would not be able to give any advice, I tried to create gifs on ipad, failed, so we are not gonna talk about it ever.

I use mpv for screencaps, thanks to amazing tutorial here that will help you to install mpv player and make screencaps from video.

You will also need photoshop, if you are not willing to pay for it, that's fine :D Not sure if it works, but here is a cracked version of ps you can check, or just google it, there will be lots of things you can get... for free. Yep, I am suggesting to pirate it lmao

So, once you have everything, make screencaps and here is the old tutorial to create gifs, back then i used kmplayer, but let's be honest that shit sucks recently and i am tired of it. So like for years I use mpv now.

I also was using cs5, cos my old laptop could not handle anything better, but newer versions are similar, so you will figure it out. Might as well do another tutorial, but not right now. You can also check some more photoshop blogs out there, they all have great tutorials on how to make gifs. Definitely better ones than my old one lol

And you will also find there lots of my psds, colorings that I used at some point and decided to put them there, they won't work on everything, but you might use them to learn how to color gifs yourself.

Do not be scared to experiment and do not give up if something does not turn out as good as you have it in mind, my first gifs are still out there and they suck, so yeah, you do it, you learn and you get better.

[purplesurveys]

1677

What were you doing at 10:30 this morning?: Sending out my last few emails before we had an all-day workshop at work. We had a mock pitch presentation contest of sorts and my team won 1st place :)

Is there anyone else in the room with you?: Nopes, it’s just me here.

If you married the last male you spoke to, what would your initials be?: That was a barista at Starbucks and I didn’t even catch his first name, much less his surname.

What did you have for lunch today?: Skipped lunch as usual but I did have an iced Americano. Was too nervous to eat anyway as our turn for the presentation was right after lunch.

In your phone, who is the first contact listed under ‘L’?: Laurice.

How old is he/she?: 24.

What colour are your father’s eyes?: Dark brown.

Was your last Facebook friend requests from a male or female?: Male, it was someone from the family reunion we had two Sundays ago although I couldn’t remember which one he was at all haha. I added him back nonetheless as he’s family anyway.

What’s the 9th song on your iTunes “Recently Played” list?: I don’t think Spotify does a listening history per user but I wish they would. How do they still not have that feature?

What colour are the eyes of the last male you text messaged?: I can’t be bothered to check my texting history right now.

Who is the first contact in your phone? What colour is his/her hair?: Alex from high school. Not sure but if I had to guess it’s probably just in black??

How many tracks were on the last album you listened to?: 10.

Which one of your relatives is most likely to embarrass you?: My relatives know better than to fuck with me lmao but if anyone, probably my mom.

Is there a song you can listen to over and over and never get fed up of it?: Yes.

Do you have a friend whose name begins with H’? Describe him/her.: Hannah. I haven’t seen her since before the pandemic started, but she’s one of my lowkey friendships and we’ve always remained quietly supportive of one another even as we’ve started leading our own, separate lives. She’s very perky, loves David Archuleta, and is a great singer and also skilled at the piano.

Are there any songs in your iTunes library that you’ve never listened to?: I don’t use iTunes and it doesn’t work that way on Spotify.

So, how are you? Is there anything wrong?: I’m okay. Very tired from today’s events and I even had a TERRIBLE headache all afternoon, but I’m in bed now answering surveys with the aircon right in front of me and that’s all that matters.

How do you handle awkward situations?: Idk, it depends on the situation and where I am and what options I have lol. Most of the time my awkward situations happen at PR events where the person I’m talking to is shyer than expected – in those cases, I’ll pretend to get a text or be like, “oh sorry, let me just take care of something but feel free to go around the venue and take some photos before we start!” hahaha. Who is the most intelligent person you know?: Andi.

Who was the last female you were introduced to?: Ruthie, my newest teammate at work. She’ll be replacing one of my associates who’ll be having her last day this Wednesday.

What was your first impression of her?: I got super excited when I saw that her laptop bag has a big Tata print on it, but when I got to talk to her a bit more, she seems super quiet. Hopefully she gets to open up once we get to start working more together!

Who was the last male you were introduced to?: Celeste’s boyfriend.

What was your first impression of him?: It was like a 5-second encounter when I caught him video-calling with her yesterday haha, it was barely enough for me to have a first impression.

Name one of your favourite foods that starts with the letter 'F’. FAJITAS. Love those to death.

Do you have a close friend of the opposite sex?: Hans.

Would you ever consider being more than friends with them?: I’m not a homewrecker lol

Who is the 8th contact in your phone? Is he/she in a relationship?: Yes he got married late last year.

If you could travel back in time, which year would you go to?: 2015 so I can see my grandpa.

What were you like as a 12 year old?: Alone, anxious, angsty. Just a troubled kid for the most part who wasn’t getting the emotional support someone my age needed both in school and at home.

What colour are the eyes of the last female you text messaged?: Idk but dark brown probably as, like, all Filipinos.

When you woke up this morning, what kind of mood were you in?: Anxious. Are you hungry? Craving any food in particular?: Yeahhhh I am getting a bit hungry. Right after this I’ll get my leftover corndog, my leftover Starbucks cookie, and the leftover sushi bake we have in the fridge.

In the past week, how many times have you cried?: Too many times. I’ve been super vulnerable throughout May so far lol

On a scale of 1 to 10 (10 being amazing), how good is life atm?: 6.

[caracalled]

i have decided i am sick of endless scrolling and never feeling like i am in power of my own time, I barely even remember anything I did after sinking several hours into scrolling. I feel like my brain has this urge all the time to get the little content dopamine hits which mainly leads to mindless scrolling on youtube and tumblr.

So I am changing my environment and making some rules for myself regarding social media:

My laptop stays at my desk and I only use tumblr + youtube on my laptop (with time restrictions), so I don't accidentally rot in bed all day. I also hang out on forums there but I think that's fine bc of how slow paced they are.

because I am in a long distance relationship, calling with my partner is only allowed on my ipad in the evening (this will stop hopefully when he moves in with me in may)(yay :D)

if possible, I only take my flip phone outside and leave my smartphone at home. I urge my friends to call instead of texting.

I deleted my instagram + twitter accounts a long while ago but that counts too I think

no social media apps on my phone except for bereal and letterboxd

Less social media related but a huge change for me: I got a wristwatch recently and it's so nice to not have to get out my phone and accidentally see a message to tell the time!

There's also the issue of my attention span and passive media consumption in general so here are some things that are gonna change/have changed:

I don't have streaming, so for anything I can get at the library, I have to plan ahead and take a walk to my local library so I can watch it (so I get a nice little walk too! :D)

No Spotify either, so music I either get at second hand CD shops or on bandcamp and listen to them on my ipod (which doesn't have internet)

Youtube is a big problem, but I took a 1 week break recently which massively improved the situation. I might do that again and also I'll definitely put restrictions on youtube. I don't know if that will be enough so I think I have to find a better solution long term?

I usually check my phone first thing in the morning so from now on in the evening it goes on my dresser. Since I typically either scroll tumblr or read webcomics I will keep my ereader on my nightstand and read manga on that instead in the mornings.

Video games are always allowed. Mainly play short indie games anyway plus I think this consumption falls under active in my specific case, and overconsumption has not been a problem really.

I think this is still pretty rough around the edges. I need a better idea of how I want to handle uni work and productivity, and also taking rest times? I think being able to not really do anything at all is incredibly important for my mental wellbeing and I want to find ways to do that, but also I would like to stay on top of my work enough for it to be stress-free for me to engage with. I think starting some sort of exercise and making walks more frequent + longer so I actually walk more than my average 5k steps a day would be nice, plus those walks would give me some more space for my thoughts. And my uni offers meditation classes near me, so I will also see if that is interesting at all this semester. Let's see how this goes!

[poledancingdinos]

You’ve Got Me Hooked - Chapter 5

Pairing: Captain Syverson x OFC (Riley McKenzie)

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: Sex work, stripper, OnlyFans, Mentioned Online Harassment

Catch up: Series Masterlist

Taglist: @amberangel112 @utterlyhopeful-fics @marantha @kebabgirl67 @littleone65 @omgkatinka @luclittlepond @marytudorbrandon @foxyjwls007  @peaches1958 @identity2212  @summersong69​ @liecastillo @islacharlotte​

A/N: If you want to be added or removed from my taglist, let me know!

Please consider giving me a reblog because dumblr is censoring these posts so badly that I struggle to find my own chapters on my blog.

Masterlist

Sy

As soon as my boss got to the garage this morning, I asked him about hiring Riley to help with advertising. He’s known me my whole life so when I told him I knew someone willing to help us out, he didn’t ask for more information, he just took down her number. He opened this small shop a few years before I was born and I know it would be devastating for him to have to close it down. 

I don't know much about running a business. Sure, I can run a team and keep track of costs and inventory, but I didn't have to deal with suppliers, banks and customers. I sure as hell can't manage a web page or anything like that.

After I found out about Riley, I checked out "Razzy's" profiles. Not her Onlyfans — that is a line I'm determined not to cross — but I looked at her TikTok and her Instagram. She's good at what she does. She has a big follower count by my uneducated standards and lots of likes and comments. I also made the mistake of reading some of the things people said about her and had to close the app before I did something stupid like march into her room and confiscate her laptop and her phone.

Some people just say how hot they think she is. Lots of them share all the fucked up shit they want to do to her. I’m no saint, I like it rough as much as the next guy, but I don’t plaster my desires across the Internet. Those weren’t the bad ones though. They were fucking nice compared to what I saw next.

I scrolled through dozens of comments from other girls calling her a skank or guys saying how she should be ashamed to do those kinds of things for money. So many people were lashing out at her from completely anonymous profiles, each one worse than the last. How does she manage to read that every day? No wonder that poor girl doesn’t feel safe enough to wear anything other than pants and hoodies in front of me.

Despite all that, I have to say, I can see her talent and skill showing even if it has nothing to do with the typical corporate bullshit. The colors and tones of the videos are consistent throughout the posts and they always compliment that bright pink hair that I assume is a wig since Riley's blond locks don’t look like they’ve ever been colored.

I text Riley a quick heads-up to expect a call then put my phone back in my locker. Aika is asleep under a nearby table, knowing well enough to stay away from the lifts and other tools and machinery. She’s content just being near me and the loud noises are nothing compared to the sound of bombs and gunfire she was trained to endure.

I’m the first one here every morning. Sometimes I go to the gym first but I still make it in by 8 am to open up. More often than not, I wrap up whatever job the other guys don’t quite finish or I do the final checks before returning a car to a customer.

My boss, Don, handles all the bookkeeping and most of the administrative work with the help of his wife since his arthritis made him incapable of working on the cars. They had a pretty good business going for the best part of the last forty years until all the larger chains started undercutting his prices. A few of the other mechanics had to leave and find better paying jobs elsewhere because there wasn’t enough work here to go around.

It doesn’t help business that the building is falling apart on the outside. The parking lot is in such dire need of being repaved that I’ve become an expert at maneuvering cars around the pot holes and deep cracks. It looks nothing like it did back before I enlisted.

It used to be that the garage ran off word-of-mouth alone with most of the locals adopting the garage because it was just that — local. But now, no one could blame customers for taking their business somewhere cheaper or somewhere they deem more reliable even if it is a half hour drive away from town. A lot of the old clientele have either retired or moved away since the garage was started, meaning there is no inherent loyalty from the townspeople. It’s just how things work these days.

I’m busy doing an oil change when I hear a car pull into the lot. In fact, I heard it approaching from the main road long before it ever reached the turn off. That car sounds like a bunch of bolts in a garbage disposal even over the loud music and the various power tools the other guys are using.

I roll out from under the car, expecting to greet a potential customer but instead I’m surprised to see Riley stepping out of the vehicle. I’ve noticed before that her car doesn’t look in great shape but I always assumed it was mostly aesthetic. If I had realized how bad it is I would’ve offered to take a look at it a long time ago.

I exit through the open workshop door with Aika trailing close behind. As soon as she sees her approaching, a wide smile spreads over Riley’s face. She bends down, burying both hands in Aika’s fur.

“Hey, sweet girl.”

“I take it Don called ya?”

“He did.” Riley stands, catching my gaze but as soon as she does, she turns her eyes towards the ground. She tries to play it off by wiping the dust from the knees but I know that she is just that shy.

She isn’t wearing her typical sweatshirt and leggings, instead opting for a cream blouse and fitted black pants that show off her beautiful figure. She looks every bit the professional put together woman I know she strives to be. She obviously put some thought into what she wore, because it’s not so fancy that she’d appear stuck up to a bunch of guys literally covered from head to toe in oil and grease on a day to day basis. It’s perfect.

"I'll show you to the office,” I say, pointing over my shoulder.

I lead Riley inside, being mindful not to get grease on anything, and knock on Don's door frame. The door was taken off its hinges long before I started working here. Part of the reason is so he can keep an eye on the work floor and be available if we need him. The other half of it is because he makes sure to say "hi" to every person that comes in even if they don't need his help.

"Hey boss, Riley's here to see ya."

"Miss McKenzie, how wonderful to meet you." He stands, shaking Riley's hand.

"The pleasure is mine, Sir."

"Oh, none of that, call me Don. Please, sit."

I take that as my cue to leave, going back to my work. I glance towards the office every so often and every time, Riley has a smile on her face. She takes notes of whatever Don is saying, nodding along.

It's funny how different this Riley is to the girl I've come to know. Instead of making herself as small as possible, she's sitting straight with her head up and shoulders back, meeting Don's gaze as they talk over their ideas.

Over an hour later, she stands and shakes Don's hand again. She walks out through the office door and makes her way to her car with a small wave my way.

When my day is over, I go to the office to drop off my day's paperwork then poke my head in to say goodbye to Don.

"I'm headin' out."

Don lifts his head from the stack of invoices he's reviewing.

"Alright, Son, thank you."

I don't want to meddle but I can't help myself from asking about how the meeting went.

"So, umm, what didja think of Riley?" 

He crosses his arms over the desk, leaning closer.

"Oh she is just lovely, Sy. Smart and beautiful, you've got yourself a real catch there."

Something in my chest warms at the praise but I have to remind myself that she is not mine to be proud of and never will be. When Sam said she filmed videos with other girls I figured he was just making it up to try and catch my interest but I’d seen enough on “Razzy’s” profiles to know he’d been telling the truth.

"Actually, we're just friends. Barely know her if I'm being honest."

Don's eyes go wide. "My apologies, I thought she said something about you two livin' together."

I guess he would have assumed that. Not many people in his day believed in living together out of wedlock so us living as roommates must be strange.

"We do. But we didn't know each other before I moved in. We both know I don't make enough to pay for my own place right now and there aren't a lot of men my age lookin' for roommates."

Like that, any remnants of a smile is completely wiped from Don's face. "I know, Sy, but I really can't —"

I stop him immediately because I have no intention of trying to guilt him into paying me more.

"I didn't mean it like that, Don. I just meant sharin' with Riley might not be a conventional choice but it works out well for the both of us."

He nods in understanding.

"That car of hers sounds like a real piece of work."

"You can say that again," I say, sinking into the chair opposite him. This is shaping up to be a long conversation so I might as well get comfortable.

"She's refusin' to let me pay for her work until she has proof that it helped us bring in more business."

I scoff, shaking my head. "That sounds like her alright."

She rarely stands up for herself but if ya offer to pay something of hers, she gets as stubborn as a mule.

"She also said the money would be better invested elsewhere."

"I doubt gettin' the the lot paved costs the same as a couple hours of her time."

"No, you're right about that." He pauses, looking down at the invoices on his desk. He pulls open the bottom drawer of his desk, taking out two glasses and a bottle of something that looks an awful lot like whiskey. He pours us both a generous amount and slides mine across the desk. "But if she comes back after crunchin' the numbers and tells me what I've been thinkin' for a while, I'll take out a second mortgage on the house."

"What?" Now I know why he pulled out the liquor. "No, I'm not lettin' ya do that Don."

The last thing any man his age needs is another loan to pay off. If he's even mentioning it to me it means he's already talked it over with his wife and that she’s agreed. He’s serious about this.

"If it means savin' this place and keepin' it goin' then, yes, I am. Your father and I worked too damn hard on this place to see it go down. I don't have any kids of my own but as far as I'm concerned, half of this place is yours and you deserve to have yourself a stable income to provide for your own family some day."

His words cause my throat to tighten up and I have to swallow down a gulp of whiskey before I can respond.

"Well, just know that I will be by your side every step even if we do have to shut this place down."

He takes a sip of his own drink.

"You're a good man, Sy. Your daddy would be proud."

Fuck, this has really turned into a liquor kind of conversation. I simply nod, looking over his shoulder at the framed picture on the wall behind him. My pop and a much younger Don smile back at me, my pregnant mama on one side and Charlotte, Don's wife, laughing brightly on the other. 

"I'll see ya tomorrow, Don."

“Get home safe.”

Those are always Don’s parting words. I never took them seriously until the first time I shipped out. Then they got a whole new meaning after my parents were killed in that car wreck.

I shoot the remaining whiskey from my rocks glass, focusing on the slight burn down the back of my throat then get to my feet. “Will do, Don.”

For the second day in a row, Riley is at the island when I get home. She has a set of colored pencils spread out around her computer and sheets of paper strewn from one end of the counter to the other.

“You know, Don doesn't expect you to get back to him tomorrow.”

She doesn’t look up or move from her spot. She just keeps coloring with her head tilted to the side and worrying her bottom lip between her teeth.

“I know, but I want to brainstorm while the ideas are still fresh.”

Fuck, she is adorable. All I want is to go up behind her and wrap my arms around her waist. I’d rest my chin over her head and look at all the ideas she’s put on paper. I’d tell her how much it means to me that she’s doing this for my godfather.

“Have ya eaten?”

“I have stew simmering on the stove. Should be ready in about an hour. I got bread from the bakery on the way home and —” Her sentence is cut off when her eyes land on me. “Sy, why are you green?”

“Aika and I went to the park.”

She gives me one of those cute little giggles that she always hides by putting her hand over her mouth or making her hair fall in front of her face.

“You know, normally, the dog is supposed to be the one rolling in the grass.”

I finally get my boots off and step further into the apartment. “Where’s the fun in that?”

She shakes her head at me and waves me off. “Alright, shoo. You’re trailing grass and mud everywhere and in all honesty, I can smell you from here.”

I give her a mock salute. “Yes ma’am. I’ll let ya get back to work.”

I take my shirt off, leaving it inside out in an attempt to keep at least some of the dirt contained. Riley immediately turns away but not before I spot how her eyes trail over my chest. Maybe she isn't completely uninterested after all.

Chapter 6

[like-rain-or-confetti]

Request: Near Death (Volturi Leaders x Reader)

WARNING: Major Injuries! Near Death Situations! 

Disclaimer: I am not a doctor or in the medical profession. I did some google searches for the themes mentioned. Such injuries usually take weeks to months of healing not to mention rehabilitation. I’ve had to condense this process down significantly. 

Alice's eyes shifted rapidly, panic etched across her face. Jasper held her hands, sitting beside her. It was his attempt to comfort her but she didn't seem to recognise he was even there, too caught up in the vision as well as the panic. She wouldn't even explain what was happening before her. Alice begged for someone to contact the Volturi. However Carlisle was at work and no one else knew if he'd have a direct line to them. 

Regardless, Alice continued to plead to inform the Volturi. Inform them of what, it was yet to be known. She wouldn't say. "What is it Alice?" Jasper asked again, trying to get her attention as Emmett typed away on the laptop. "We're going the long way." He said hurriedly as Rosalie grabbed the phone. She looked over Emmett's shoulder as she dialled. She didn't even spare whoever it was on the other end of the phone a greeting. "This is Rosalie Cullen and you need to pass the phone to the Volturi immediately! No, not just a guard! Aro! Anyone! Just do it!" Rosalie turned her attention to Alice. "Alice, you need to tell us what's happening now!" 

Everything was peaceful in the Volturi castle. Yet the receptionist seemed to start pandemonium in a matter of seconds. She hurried to the first guard she could find who had been Jane. She stared the human down as the receptionist hurriedly relayed that Rosalie Cullen was on the phone and had to talk to the leaders. All in fluent hurried Italian with fear of the situation as well as fear of Jane. Jane silently took the phone, telling the human to go back to her post which she did. "Rosalie?" Jane said into the phone. "Jane!?" "Yes?" "Jane, this is an emergency. You need to go to Aro immediately!" "What is this about?" "Don't ask questions, just do it!" Rosalie snapped. All the while Jane could hear a panicked Alice Cullen in the background rambling. Jane huffed but complied. 

Jane moved briskly into the throne room, moving into the middle, phone in hand with a stern expression upon her face. "Masters, pardon the intrusion but Rosalie Cullen is on the phone. She deems it is an emergency. I believe I may have heard (Y/N)'s name." The three suddenly had all their attention on Jane. "Jane!? Jane are they there!?" Jane put the phone onto speaker. "We're all here and can hear you." "Alice had a vision about (Y/N). Some thing is happening!" 

Rosalie's attention moved back to Alice. "Alice! They're on the phone! You need to tell us what is happening!" "I chased it!" Alice cried out. "I chased the vision. I saw (Y/N) in a car and i think it was about to crash!" There was silence on both ends, only Alice saying a word. "I'm trying to see further!" Alice continued to talk, no one else able to say a word. "I saw them lying there in a hospital bed, please let me be wrong! Please!" Suddenly Alice screamed and the three leaders rushed towards Jane who still had the phone. "Alice, what is happening!?" Aro demanded. "They...it crashed. They...they're not moving!" 

Charlie Swan kept his hand on his radio, listening in for any updates. More police had been called in when it was discovered the driver who collided into the taxi vehicle was very drunk. He had been speeding whilst intoxicated and both vehicles were absolutely destroyed. The taxi driver had so many injuries that he couldn't be properly identified. It was clear the man was dead. He had to have died instantly. His passenger on the other hand wasn't so easy to determine. Although Charlie recognised them immediately. You were a family friend of Carlisle's. 

The paramedics on scene determined it was necessary to remove you from the vehicle. So with help from officers, they did. You were laid on the cold ground. From what Charlie could hear, you were barely clinging on and completely unresponsive. You had to be taken to hospital immediately. That was when Charlie could get a better look at you. You were in very bad shape and covered in blood from your head. Never would he know, as his thoughts went to the Cullen family, Alice had already seen the image of your unconscious body and unable to hold back, she screamed. 

Before the three Volturi leaders decided they'd immediately go to America, another phone call was received this time from Carlisle. Half an hour after Alice's phone call. "Are they alright?" Aro asked. Carlisle was silent in the other end of the phone before finally answering. "We nearly lost them on the way to the hospital. They're condition is very unstable right now. However we're doing everything we can to stabilize them. We'll be working on them all night. I'd ask that you wait for my next call before you leave." "You ask that we stay here whilst our mate is over there and injured!?" Caius seethed. "I need your trust. I will do everything I can. As soon as I have more answers, I'll give them to you and we can go from there." "Carlisle..." Marcus finally spoke up. "Are they going to make it through the night?" There was silence again. "I will do everything in my power to make sure that the next time we speak, (Y/N) is stable and we can arrange for you to come. I'm sorry, I can't give you anything more than that." Marcus clenched his eyes shut turning away. Aro and Caius knew what he was thinking immediately. He couldn't go through this again, losing another mate. Caius wanted to demand that you be changed but he knew that wasn't possible in your condition and where you were. There was too much attention surrounding you. 

Hours passed and the silence from Carlisle was slowly killing the three leaders. Caius was the first to break the silence. "We should never have left them there." His voice was quiet- which was very unlike him. "It's what they wanted." Aro replied softly. "We wanted them here." Caius shot back. "We don't even know how this happened." "We will." Aro responded. "We need to have hope that (Y/N) pull through." "If they don't?" Caius asked. "That's not an option." Aro replied. 

For twelve hours, a different kind of silence lay over the Volturi castle- a heavier one. The three perked up as the phone rang again. Caius and Marcus stood up sharply. Marcus had his hands covering his nose and mouth, pure anxiety hitting the man at this point. Aro was the one who answered the phone. "Hello, Aro. We were operating all night. I have good news and bad news. I will start with the good. (Y/N) is alive and significantly more stable." Marcus exhaled, falling back into his chair, Caius putting a hand on Marcus' arm to steady him. Caius' hand stayed on Marcus' arm as he glared into the phone as though trying to pry out more information. "They are?" Aro responded. "Yes. Although I'd ask you all be sitting down for the bad news. It's quite hard hitting and extensive." Caius grumbled but also sat back down. "Go on, friend." Aro said.  "(Y/N)'s injuries are mostly in their head and torso. Their legs are badly bruised but not broken. They have minor cuts in their hands and arms from the glass shattering. We believe they moved their arms to cover their face. Their spine is bruised but not broken. Upon the investigation with the police, (Y/N) was jolted multiple times upon impact. Their face is bruised but I couldn't feel any fractures or breaks. Unfortunately we discovered more serious injuries upon further inspection which forced us to operate. (Y/N) has broken ribs which punctured her organs and caused internal bleeding. We have since stopped the bleeding and corrected the breaks within their ribs which will be healing in weeks. However, I must inform you that (Y/N) has not been responsive or conscious during their observation period. We have discovered that (Y/N) has minimal brain activity." "What does that mean?" Aro asked quietly. "It means that (Y/N) is in a coma." "Carlisle, I don't know what that means." Aro said flatly but his jaw had begun to clench. "It means that (Y/N) is alive but cannot be woken up. They show no sign of awareness and is unresponsive to their environment. Sometimes the extensive injuries cause the brain to shut down to minimal activity so that the healing process can take place. They are currently in a vegetative state and at this time, all we can hope is that they will at one point wake up on their own." "Can we go to them?" Marcus asked. "I have to keep in what we are and I think it's best if you make that decision, wary that the smell of their blood will be stronger." Carlisle answered. "It will take us a few days." Caius continued, the other two leaders no longer able to speak. "Surely that would be enough for that to settle." "Of course. All I ask is that you prepare yourself to see them. It will be a shock and I will need to prepare you before hand regardless." 

When those days passed and the three leaders had arrived. They discovered there had been no change in your condition. Carlisle had somehow been able to get you transported to his home given the relationship he had with you. Therefore he would be able to care for you, just as he had in the hospital. However, as unconventional as it was, the hospital insisted they remained updated with your condition. 

The three leaders and Carlisle stood outside your room, Carlisle put his hand on the handle. Before they'd enter your room, Carlisle warned the three again. "You'll see them attached to a lot of machinery. Keep in mind it's a very good sign that (Y/N) is breathing on their own, however they do have apparatus to help them breathe better. Although I am more concerned that their visible injuries will be shocking for you." "Thank you for preparing us, friend." Aro said passively and Carlisle opened the door. The three were around your bed in moments. All exhaling with horror and heartbreak. 

You looked more fragile than you had ever. Purple, black and blue bruises across your body from what they could see. However the cuts in your hands seemed to be the first thing to really heal. "Why not change them now?" Caius said flatly trying to hide his emotions but the way he physically sank into himself, as well as the broken look in his eyes, he was broken by the very sight of you. Carlisle shook his head. "They can't be changed. Not until they wake up." "Why?" Caius asked sternly. "Because right now there is a chance that they won't wake up. Changing them won't fix this. We need to give them time." "So we sit and do nothing and hope they wake up!?" Caius snapped. "You're role is just as important and it's vital that you do it. Be there with them, talk to them, comfort them because I can't do that. You're their mate." Carlisle responded before turning to Aro. "All we can hope is that they wake up and then we'll take it from there." Marcus lightly touched your hand. "Do they knew we're here?" "Comas aren't so clear. We don't know if they can hear us." Carlisle responded. "Regardless it's important you interact with them because it may prompt their brain to respond to stimuli. Even if you don't get a response. It'll help." "Thank you, Carlisle." Aro said with a blank stare. Carlisle nodded. "I'm so sorry that I couldn't fix this." Carlisle said with sympathy and some guilt. Aro nodded. "You did everything you could." "I had really hoped for a better outcome. That they'd be awake for you arriving." Aro smiled slightly. "We all had that hope, nevertheless, our mate is alive because of you. For that, we are grateful." "Carlisle?" Caius spoke up, his fingers coaxing your hand gently into his. "How did this happen?" "The accident?" Carlisle asked. Caius nodded. "A drunk driver, speeding and collided into the car (Y/N) was in. The one driving in (Y/N)'s vehicle died instantly." Caius mouth twisted in hatred. "A human...nearly killed our (Y/N) because they were intoxicated?" Carlisle slowly nodded. "Don't tell us who it was." Marcus said gravely, his eyes stuck onto you. "If you do, we won't hesitate to kill him." "Laws, be damned." Caius agreed. "One more thing..." Marcus spoke up, finally tearing his eyes from you and towards Carlisle. "Are they in pain? Right now and before. Has (Y/N) suffered?" Carlisle shook his head. "They haven't been conscious and now that we know they're in a coma. I can safely say that haven't felt a thing. Due to the minimal brain activity and unresponsiveness, they won't feel any pain. None of their senses are working." Carlisle continued. "Remember what I said, the most random of interactions at any time can be picked up and that's the first sign of waking up." 

Aro was the first to really approach you. He ran his fingers across your cheek. He couldn't see anything from the accident onwards. He didn't dare lose hope that you were still in there though. "Hello, beautiful. We're here now." He said softly, kissing your forehead. Caius silently looked at his brother. Watching as he doted over you with ease. He couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy, wishing he could move past his emotions and do the same. However the most he had been able to accomplish was lightly touching their hand, coaxing it into his own. It wasn't the same, your hand was described as the rest of your body. Unresponsive. His touch went unnoticed and he had never longed for even a twitch in your body. Some movement that told him you were there. However his silent pleads went ignored and you didn't move.  Aro smiled at his brothers, seemingly knowing what they were feeling and why they hesitated. "You need to think of it like they are here because for all we know, they are. They've been waiting for us."

Sometimes all three stayed with you, other times they took turns individually, each growing to find comfort that you were still alive and it's easier to think you were still in there. When it was Caius' turn. You'd have been shocked as he had closed himself off from everyone, barely speaking a word whether in company or left alone with you. Caius seemed to struggle the most with your condition. He struggled to see past it. Struggled with knowing you weren't conscious and you didn't know he was there. He found it more difficult to talk to someone who wouldn't give even the smallest sign they had heard him. 

The first thing he did was approach your bedside, hovering over you to kiss your forehead. Caius whispered something to you, in that moment, unable to care whether you could hear it or not. The relief had finally sank in that you had survived the accident. "Thank you for not dying." He pulled up a chair beside you. "I never thought I'd see you like this." Caius softly admitted. "Forgive me. I find it difficult to talk to you. I know it could help. I look at you and the pain in my chest only grows bigger. So much that I'm unable to talk. I want to be optimistic like everyone else. Talk to you because you will eventually wake up. I want that more than anything. Instead I can only stare as my heart breaks over and over again because someone hurt my (Y/N) and I wasn't here to protect you." Caius paused, his eyes running over you. "Marcus says that you look peaceful. Like your sleeping. I think to myself about how deluded that sounds. Even looking at you now. This isn't you sleeping. All I see is your body laying there. Day in and day out." Caius sighed. "So I must ask of you, please sweetheart." Caius leaned closer. "Please, fight to wake up. Let us see those beautiful eyes again. What I wouldn't do to see that wonderful smile again." Caius trailed off, the small reminiscing smile falling from his friend. "I know it's a lot to ask. Please understand that I have to. If you can hear me, please fight to wake up and come back to us." 

Aro was the most capable of them all to speak to you. He did so with ease and without hesitation. "Hello cara mia." He smiled as he kissed your forehead. "All of that bruising is healing nicely. Some of the smaller ones are gone. Isn't that wonderful?" Aro gently held your hand. "The guard have been asking about you, perhaps we'll let them see you soon. Once some of more these cuts and bruises heal. You'll get a break from Caius, Marcus and I too." Aro hummed in amusement. "As tempted as we were to bring the full guard. Perhaps that wouldn't have benefited anyone. “The twins are here with us and we're expecting Felix and Demetri within the next couple of days. We'll all be here when you're ready to wake up." Aro leaned closer. "I know you will, my love. You will wake up. Do it even to spite Caius for being a pessimist." Aro smiled slightly. You had always enjoyed challenging Caius and in all honesty it was enjoyable to watch. "We will help you. Even after you wake up, you'll have us at your side. We'll get through this together." 

Marcus gently cradled you hand between is own, lightly kissing the back of your hand. He stared at you, for the longest of time. He noticed the soft fall and rise of your chest but other than that, so still. Finally Marcus broke the silence. "I've been trying to think of what I could say to you. Aro is better than Caius and I at this. As you know." Marcus continued after a moment of thought. "Although Aro has his faults. We never told you it was Caius who was determined you'd stay with us. He took one look at you and that was it. You had his heart and he whether we agreed or not. You would be with us." Marcus wore a small smile. "He convinced me to put a little trust in you. He was right. You have given me so much joy and love in the time we've been together that, you asking to stay was a sacrifice I was willing to make. We were all willing to make. So I'd like to ask you to make a sacrifice for us, my beautiful (Y/N). I want you to wake up. I want you to claw your way back to us if you have to. Although I'm aware that given your condition you might not want to. That might be too much for you to face alone in your mind but I need you to know you're not alone. We're waiting for you, sweetheart." Marcus leaned towards your ear. "Make sure you come back to me, okay?" 

One day the Volturi came back from their hunt to an absolute miracle. Carlisle was waiting for them when they arrived with a smile. "We have progress." The three could barely stop themselves from bombarding into your room. "They're out of the vegetative state." Carlisle explained. "Right now, as we speak, they are sitting up." Caius and Marcus inhaled sharply as Aro smiled. "I need to you to know that (Y/N) isn't awake. They can't see or hear us yet but their eyes will be open and they're beginning to register touch. Whilst they didn't respond to holding my hand, they did move away slightly because I'm colder and will move if in any discomfort. They won't talk yet either but regardless this is a very good sign." 

The four entered the room to find you sitting up. You were hunching over slightly, your eyes drifting ever so slowly at times. As Carlisle had said, you weren't focused at all and didn't seem to notice that they were there. Your eyes and hands were a major give away. Your hands were limp whilst your eyes seemed a little glazed over. Carlisle moved to your side, taking the cup of water at your bedside before putting it to your lips. To the leaders surprise, you leaned into the cup and actually drank it's contents. Aro moved closer whilst Caius' and Marcus were so taken aback they were rendered speechless. "Did they sit up on their own?" Aro asked. "No, they're still healing. I was checking on them and I couldn't help but notice that their eyes were opening. Once their eyes were completely open. We gently helped them sit up. They've been sitting like this for forty-five minutes." Carlisle finished with a smile. "It's working?" Aro asked. "Interacting with them? Yes." Carlisle smiled. "However I do think I'll get them to lie back down now. Everyday, we'll get them to sit up for a short time." That being said, Carlisle lay you back down gently. Your eyes remained open, continuing to focus on nothing. 

A day passed and whilst the leaders were spending time with you together, they noticed a small change. You were lying down, eyes open. Caius was mumbling into your ear, his head hovering inches over yours. His eyes narrowed on you when he noticed that your eyes drifted towards him but this time your eyes stayed drifting to the side he was on. You blinked, your eyes shifting back slightly up and down motions. "(Y/N)? Can you hear me?" Caius asked softly, getting Aro and Marcus' attention. Aro immediately got Carlisle who looked you over. He insisted that Caius continued speaking to you and didn't move as he did so. Carlisle and Caius both kept their gaze on your eyes, that still hadn't moved on from Caius' vicinity. "Judging by the eye movement, I appears to be (Y/N) is trying to focus on something which is a very good sign." Caius smiled down at you lovingly. "I'm here, sweetheart." His voice barely above a whisper. 

The next sign came at random. The next day Marcus had your hand in his with a very light grip, his fingers barely curling around your hand. Whilst your hand occasionally twitched you didn't seem to really notice his hand, only the cold temperature. That was until your hand shifted again. This time you curled a finger slightly around his own. The movement had Marcus watching you intently but you made no other sign. You had the leaders on the edge of their seats every given moment. Yet you seemed to take your time, taking the moments they least expected to startle them. Although regardless, they would be patient. They'd wait forever if they had to. 

It wasn't too long after that day that you shocked the leaders again. Caius and Aro had laid on either side of you. Marcus was beside your legs. Your head was tilted towards Caius as he ran a cold fingers up and down your hand as the three spoke to you. Once again your eyes shifted to Caius, who was significantly closer to your head than anyone else. Your eyes passed Caius as they had hundreds of times, trailing back and forth. Then they stopped, directly on Caius' face. Caius ran his thumb across your cheekbone before noticing your eyes hadn't moved. "(Y/N)?" He said gently, getting both leaders attention. All three stared at you for a moment before you took a deep breath, blinked and moved your head. However your eyes were different now. Their was cognition behind them. The leaders had seen you move before so they had to be sure. "(Y/N)?" Marcus said and your head turned to him. You had heard them. The three gasped, you were awake. "Hello, sweetheart." Aro smiled widely. "oh grazie ... grazie, tesoro." Caius sighed in relief, mumbling Italian under his breath. Marcus couldn't tear his eyes from you. 

As Aro stood up to get Carlisle, Marcus took his place. He didn't even dare to blink. Your eyes followed him as he moved beside you. "Can you hear us?" You made a slightly nodding motion before reaching out slowly, cupping his cheek. Your brow began to furrow and the two grew increasingly worried. 

In that moment, Carlisle entered the room along with Aro. "Well, well, look who's awake." Carlisle smiled warmly. "Hello, (Y/N)." Carlisle moved beside Marcus. "Can you hear me?" You tried your best to nod again, against the aches of protest in your back. "Good. I imagine you're very confused right now and you should know it's perfectly fine to feel that way. You may not remember but you were in a car accident and fell into a coma. You've been unconscious for many days now. You're injuries were severe but you are healing and I'll run some tests on you to see how you're doing. There's absolutely nothing to worry about. You may feel some slightly discomfort or pain, you're on very heavy pain killers. The best you can do it relax and rest." You looked down at your bruised body. Carlisle was right. There were aches and pains all over but a numbness too. The mixture made you aware that whilst you felt some pain, you weren't feeling even half of it. Carlisle continued but his voice was so low that only the leaders could hear him. "They'll likely feel irritability and confusion. Comfort them and try to be patient. It'll take some time for them to come to terms." 

When Carlisle left, you were still looking down at your body, brow furrowing and tears welled up in your eyes. Marcus moved a hand to your face, getting your attention, your eyes met his before you swallowed hard, lip quivering slightly. Your sobs were silent but heavy at first, wracking your body. As your sobs continued they grew louder, the closest thing to your voice they had heard in days. "Oh tesoro." Aro said softly as Caius shifted further down the bed. Your sobs now jutting your shoulder into his chest but he didn't mind. Slowly and gently, he put his arm across your waist, the best he could do to hug your frail body. His head against yours with his eyes shut. Marcus took your other hand, pressing a kiss to it before leaning into it. They let you cry and you cried until you fell asleep. 

When you woke up. Marcus and Aro were gone, leaving Caius and another two visitors. Felix and Demetri smiled at you. "You scared the hell out of us." Felix said to you. "My heart was nearly jumpstarted after centuries only to have a heart attack." It was rough but a hum of amusement escaped you. Felix was always able to make you laugh and now more than ever, Caius appreciated it. Caius smiled down at you, lightly tracing patterns against your hairline. 

The visits were lovely distractions from the pain in your body, but you couldn't help but be more aware of it every passing day. The cycle of all it. You wake up, get more pain medication that led you to be as high as a kite and then the small moments of clarity clicked in when you realised, you weren't okay. You were bloodied and bruised, scarred from surgeries and your brain slow and fogged from being in a coma. You tried to be happy and swallow the pain and fear for your mates if not for yourself but the more coherent you became and the more you healed, the less medication you needed. Finally left with the simple knowledge that you weren't okay. You were so lost in thought that you didn't even notice your mates trying to get your attention. You looked over to the three, worry etched upon their faces. After a moment, you reached your arm out to Aro. He took your hand with ease, before he looked back to you. "Cara mia, we know. You can feel this way. We're here to help you no matter how you feel each day." Caius and Marcus looked to Aro for an explanation. "(Y/N) isn't feeling too well today. It's a bit much, they're a little overwhelmed but have been trying to put in a brave face." You knew Aro would give them more detail out of your ear shot and whilst grateful, even that made you want to cry. Caius immediately turned to you, his hand immediately reaching out for your arm. "Look at me." He said firmly but quietly. "We love you, no matter what. Having you here with us, alive is the greatest gift you could have ever given us. Don't you dare, hold back any emotion you are feeling for us or for anyone." 

 A few days later, Carlisle began his daily routine, checking in on you and your injuries. "Hello, (Y/N)." Carlisle smiled at you and you did your best to smile back. "How are you feeling today?" You held a hand out, palm down. "Somewhere in between? That's better than before." Carlisle smiled. "I'm going to ask you some simple questions, I know you can't talk yet, but don't worry you shouldn't have to with these. That will come soon." Carlisle assured you. "Remember, slow and gentle movements. I'll pick them up better than you think." You smiled slightly at the tease. "How old are you?" He asked. Without having to think about it, you held up the appropriate fingers. "Very good!" He praised with a smile. "Didn't even hesitate. How many movies did you watch last night?" You promptly held up two fingers. "Very nice. How many mates do you have?" You didn't seem to notice how intently the leaders stare was but it was more than likely you were used to that by now. You held up three fingers. "Alright and where are they?" Carlisle asked. You pointed to the three leaders. "Great. This is a very good sign. Your response times are very good." Your injuries had cleared much more, the bruising on your body no where near as bad as before. The swelling in your face barely noticeable as well as any cuts you had. You ribs where the biggest problem if anything. However you still hadn't said a word. That was Carlisle's next goal now that he knew your memory was in tact. 

"Alright, you may not like me today." Carlisle warned you with a smile and you looked at him with confusion and dread, wondering what sort of test he'd out you through now. "This one will be a little more complicated but today, you're going to try and talk." Your eyes widened a fraction, dread completely over taking your confusion. "We'll start with names, specifically, the names of your mates." You scrunched up your face. They didn't have the easiest of names as it was. "I assure you, once you get used to talking, you won't have to think twice about it. We'll start easy. Try to say Aro's name." You took a breath, thinking hard before being unable to hold back a smile. Never had talking seemed to complicated? Like you had to think about using your mouth and creating the sounds you wanted. "Take your time and be patient with yourself. Let your brain wake up." The expression on your face said a thousand words. First, curse Carlisle. Secondly, this is embarrassing. Thirdly, if you mess up Aro's name you'll never forgive yourself. Lastly, you are so sorry if you mess up his name. Aro couldn't help the small chuckle escaping him, the other two smiling in amusement. "A...Aro." With so much concentration, you had shut your eyes, testing it out. Your voice was a little scratchy from not using it in a while but it was still clear. "There you go, one down. Can you try to say Caius?" "C..." You paused trying to think it through. "Cai...Caius." You finally forced out and Aro giggled with glee, Caius reaching out for your hand. "Alright, this is the more difficult one. It'll require a little more brain power. Marcus." You remembered the motion to make a 'M' sound. That being the difficult part of the name. It took a few more pauses but you slowly managed it out. "Well done." Carlisle smiled. "So since you didn't need promoting on how to say these things, I'm confident you could start talking just fine. Just remember to be patient with yourself." 

Soon after showing the extend of your talking and cognitive abilities, Carlisle told you that it wouldn't be long before you got to go home. The leaders were delighted, more than eager to bring you to Italy and finally put this nightmare behind them. "How did you do it? How did you cope when I was out?" You asked, finally finding the courage to do so after all this time. Aro and Marcus looked at each other and to your surprise Caius responded. "We pretended you could hear us, that you were with us. I found it the most difficult."  "I don't think I could have done this without you." You admitted quietly. "You could have." Marcus replied. "It is us who couldn't have survived without your strength." "We wouldn't have it any other way." Caius added softly. "When you're better, we're bring you with us back to Italy." Aro smiled at you. "We almost had to live without you. Now we can't stand the thought of you being so far from us." Caius explained.

[thefanficmonster]

The Five Scares (and one revenge)

Corpse Husband x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Swearing 

Genre: FLUFF, Humor, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Having a tendency to scare people, Corpse has gotten used to his friends being jumpy whenever he appears from the void into a Discord call with them. However, the one who has it the roughest with the spooks has to be his partner Y/N. Basically: The five times Corpse scared Y/N and the one time they scared him

Requested by Anon. Hi darling! Thank you so much for your lovely request it was a real joy to write and I had a ton of fun doing so! Hope you have equally as wonderful of a time if you happen to come across it and give it a read despite the long wait you’ve had to endure which I apologize for. Love, Vy ❤

I

Having had to go home for the night to keep an eye on their roommate’s dog, Y/N and Corpse agreed to have a video call before they fell asleep. They didn’t want to appear like that typical clingy and cheesy couple but after spending almost a whole week curled up in Corpse’s apartment, the two would feel each other’s absence to a very saddening degree to the point where they’d even forget the other isn’t around and would call out to them. 

Letting the call ring, Y/N’s hand comes up to smooth out their hair. However, the touch reveals to them that their hair needs a bit more than a simple tap or a pat to be tamed so while they wait for Corpse to answer the call, they quickly head to their bathroom. Flicking the light on, their reflection greets them with the underwhelming news of the actual state of their hair at the moment: an absolute mess. They proceed to do their best with the single hair-tie they have handy. A bobby pin or two would be neat but they have no time to go and grab one right now, seeing as how they can’t recall if they even brought them back from Corpse’s apartment. If they didn’t, they would have to search their roommate’s room for some which would take an even longer amount of time.

Eventually, they manage to tame it in something closely resembling a presentable ponytail and exit the bathroom feeling more exhausted than before. With a loud sigh, they crash onto their bed, face-first into the sea of pillows, groaning at the slight sting of their muscles relaxing at last.

“Y/N?“ The decently loud mention of their name by a deep, familiar yet sudden and unexpected voice startles them to the point of squealing and jumping an entire inch away from where they were positioned.

They look around their room in a frenzy, wondering where on Earth that voice came from and how it could be here with them right now.

“Y/N, you there?”, before they could locate it, it emerges once again, helping Y/N get an ide of where it’s coming from - somewhere in the messed up bed sheets.

“Corpse?“ They finally find their voice, “Y-yeah I’m here. Question is: how are you...“ and then it all clicks, causing them to twist their face in an expression of utter disappointment and bury it in the palms of their hands, groaning.

“You forgot about the video chat, didn’t you?“ Corpse asks, amusement not even attempted to be hidden in his voice.

“Yup.“

II

It’s been one hell of a day. Y/N’s college lectures exhausted them to a max and their six hour job following their classes did nothing to help them AT ALL. Quite the opposite actually. Makes sense why they look, move and talk the way they’re doing right now: like a ghost, zombie and an elder combined in one. To add to their misfortunes for the day, they were met with the mocking ‘OUT OF ORDER’ sign taped to the doors of the elevator, laughing in their face with the information that their hellish experience for the day is far from over.

Just the thought of having to climb to the fifth floor made their stomach turn in the most unpleasant way possible, but the though of how long that would take made matters even worse. Arriving at their designated apartment, they have every right to be pissed, cussing their heart out. 

However, then comes a new problem: the inability to pinpoint the correct key. They proceed to curse themselves, the keys, the door handle and the door itself before punching the poor wood that did no wrong and just stands here, serving its purpose of keeping unwanted people out of the apartment it’s guarding.

Following their anger outburst and front-door-abuse, they proceed to try finding the correct key once again, this time slightly more calmly as to not accidentally miss it in their frantic rifling.

Right as they’re about to try the third key, however, the door opens. Well, it’s opened by someone on the other side, that someone being none other than their boyfriend Corpse who’s currently staring at them wide-eyed, one eyebrow raised, the word ‘confused’ basically written across his face.

While he’s processing the sight in front of him, Y/N lets out a little scream, jumping back and away from the door, a hand placed over their chest as their wide eyes scan their boyfriend who now seems equally terrified as a result of their reaction.

“Corpse?!“ They manage to gasp, barely hearing their own voice over the loud thumping of their heart and the rush of blood in their ears, “What the hell are you doing here?!“

The confusion on Corpse’s face deepens, reaching whole new levels as his eyes gaze deeper into theirs, searching for the meaning behind their bizarre question. “You mean...at my own apartment? What am I doing, at home?“

For a few seconds, the two just stare blankly at one another, processing everything that’s just happened. Suddenly, it all just kinda caves for Y/N and they burst out laughing, doubling over, their arms clutching at their stomach as they do so. Their laughter is contagious, so Corpse can’t help but let out a few chuckles himself.

“Alright, you’ve been driven to insanity, I can tell.“ He mumbles at his reckless partner, coming up behind them and wraps his arms around them, lifting them up and carrying their laughing ass inside.

III

Finally deciding to sit down and get this damn project started, Y/N already feels like they’ve had enough of it, burnout already creeping in and threatening to ruin their work and trip them up every step of the way. It wouldn’t have been so bad had the subject not been one they absolutely despise and wish they could get out of studying but alas they’re stuck with it.

They equip their headphones as soon as they plant their butt on the desk chair in their tiny room in their tiny roommate-shared apartment, putting their Spotify playlist on shuffle as they open a blank Power Point document. They work better with music blasting in their ears since the silence tends to be too loud and distracting when they’re trying to focus. So, that way they can also sing their heart out in peace and not get disturbed by the sound of their own off-key singing. Win-win, basically.

Singing ‘Never Forget You’ by Zara Larsson and MNEK, they get a little carried away, ditching the project to enter a full-blown music video they can imagine down to the detail in their mind.

However, there’s a surprise awaiting them.

As soon as MNEK’s part of the song begins, another voice apart from his echoes through their headphones, singing along to the song. Freaking the fuck out, they let out a loud scream, smacking the headset off them, sending the object falling and landing on their laptop keyboard with a crash that only serves to further startle their roommate’s dog which comes to check if they are being attacked or something only to be disappointed by the lack of action.

When pushing the headphones off, they did so with a force strong enough to snap the cable out of the laptop entirely so now the room is filled with the sound of that same foreign voice laughing his ass off.

A voice that belongs to no other than Corpse Husband himself.

“You gotta learn to disconnect from Discord calls, Y/N.“ The fucker says, still cackling wholeheartedly at his partner’s misery.

Pissed off or not, Y/N would have to admit he’s got a point. But they’d also rather never speak again than admit it so...

“Fuck you!“ is what they say instead, seconds before disconnecting.

IV

Making breakfast is not something either Corpse or Y/N are used to, mostly cause they both either wake up late or skip the meal entirely. Regardless, having been given a day off from work and having no classes since it’s Saturday, Y/N saw no better way to start their day off than to prepare a nice breakfast for them and their boyfriend to enjoy. Problem is: they aren’t the most skilled in the kitchen. Sure they can scramble an egg or make mac and cheese, but in order to do it correctly they are not allowed to have distractions of any kind. Not even music, that’s how you know it’s serious.

Seeing as how Corpse has never seen them cook, he’s obviously unaware of theirs. The dummy straight up waltzes into the kitchen, unintentionally remaining unspotted and unheard by Y/N because he’s barefoot and because they have their back turned to him.

“Whatya cooking over there babe?“

Y/N’s focus bubble, being as thin as it is and considering they initially thought Corpse was still asleep, they have every right to let out the yelp they just did, dropping the egg they were gonna crack over the pan in said pan in its entirety - yes, shell and all.

A moment of silence commences: regretful on Corpse’s end and frustrated on theirs. Neither of them dares to say anything to avoid triggering the other. Well, that’s the case until Y/N decides enough’s enough and they turn to look at him, a wide, obviously fake smile plastered onto their face.

“Scrambled eggs, following a secret recipe, property of the L/N family.“

Seems like your pre-breakfast snack is an extra large dose of sarcasm, huh?

V

“So, how was your day? You sound pretty chipper so I take it wasn’t a nightmare like a few days ago.“ Corpse comments over the phone, listening to shuffling and shifting as Y/N moves around the apartment, getting ready to head out.

“It was great actually. Got some important results back and, not to brag or anything, but they were higher than I expected.“ They reply, a genuine wide grin refusing to leave their face as they silently count the amount of money they’ve got in their wallet. “I’m gonna go buy a cake so we can celebrate it. It’s no small deal, trust me, especially not when I initially thought I’d fail both these exams to the point of being pitied.“

“Wait...-“ Corpse attempts, his voice suddenly sounding strained and urgent but that’s the very reason he cannot seem to find or get the right words out of his system. Not that Y/N gives him any time to figure it out.

“No Corpse, you cannot change my mind. Cake and beers, we’re celebrating toni- SHIT!“ They scream as they throw open the front door, bumping square into someone standing on the other side, almost dropping their phone.

Taken aback by embarrassment and fear, they leap back, their eyes searching for the ones of the person whose personal space they just invaded. Well, to be fair, he was the one invading their personal space by standing right outside the door to their - well, to Corpse’s apartment.

The fear and irritation die down almost instantly when Y/N recognizes the person standing opposite them.

“Mind telling me why we’re talking on the phone when you could’ve come in and we could’ve had a normal person conversation?!“ They snap, ironically enough - they’re still holding the phone to their ear.

So is Corpse whos is smiling guiltily, “That’s why I called, I forgot my keys, but I got...carried...sorry.”

Well, at least this serves as proof Y/N’s not the only forgetful one.

                                                            ~  ~  ~

Corpse has been stuck in his recording room for four hours now, never stopping his stream to take care of his basic human needs such as eating or going to the bathroom. This behavior of his has Y/N worried sick and unable to focus on the task at hand - an assignment they’ve been trying to finish for two hours now, sitting with their computer on their lap and looking hopelessly at the blank Word document waiting for them to fill it up while they are waiting for it to start writing itself.

Seeing as how neither are gonna happen, not until Y/N puts their mind at ease, they slowly put the laptop aside, standing up to carefully skip on over to Corpse’s recording room to check on him, stopping by the kitchen to grab him a snack and a bottle of water along the way.

The door to the darkened room is open a crack, as usual, suggesting they can enter without knocking - this also means he’ll probably not hear them even if they knock so the whole gesture would be pointless. Not that Y/N has a tendency to knock or anything... Waltzing in, they find that the only light in the room is the very faint and dark glow of the computer screen which is displaying a dark and dingy room from a first-person view of the protagonist of whatever game Corpse’s currently playing.

“Corpse?!“ They whisper-yell/hiss at him, trying their best to grasp his attention without startling him - they don’t need to be told that the game is of the horror genre and the last thing they need is for their boyfriend to flip backwards and fall out of his chair because they scared the shit out of him. “Hey?!“

Neither attempts prove futile so, despite their best instincts telling them differently, they walk over to him and tap him on the shoulder. The reaction, while within the realm of expectancy, is a lot more startled than they expected, accompanied by a scream on top of all. They’d never heard him scream in fear before, it’s quite amusing if they’re being honest.

They suppress a snicker as Corpse’s wide open eyes meet their squinting ones in the darkness, “Y/N...babe...what is it? Is everything ok?”

Y/N rolls their eyes, “No, everything isn’t ok. Your unhealthy habit of forgetting to take care of yourself, for example.” They put the snack and the bottle on the his desk, giving him their best disappointed-parent look before turning on their heel to strut their way out of the room. However, just as they are about to make their exit, they stop right at the doorframe, giving their stunned one final glance over their shoulder with a smug smirk playing across their face, “Oh and by the way, that’s what I like to call revenge.” Just like that, they leave, pushing the door back into its previous position.

And boy, is it some sweet, sweet revenge.

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[221bshrlocked]

That Southern Hospitality

Pairing: Clark Kent X Reader

Words: 8056 (wow this got out of hand)

Warnings: Awkward encounters. Flannel. Forearms. Smut. Dirty talk. Some kinks that might not apply to you including but not limited to hickies, size difference, age gap, flannel shirts, and finally, cum play (if that’s what it’s called). I’m on my period and I’m horny so leave me alone. 

A/N: Listen I’m not sure what happened here. I was minding my own business one minute and the next thing I know, I’m writing this hella long fic because men in plaid shirts are the death of me (Adam Driver in Blackkklansman) but Clark Kent in a plaid shirt/flannel can rip me to pieces and I’d ask him if he could do it again. I know I have other stories to get to and finish, but I got the inspiration and motivation to write this and I decided it was better than not writing any fics at all. Enjoy this hell that is Henry Cavill inspired. This will be up on AO3 with gifs :) Let me know if my smut is still any good.

Two exams, three research papers, and a shit ton of unnecessary assignments, and here you were doing the laundry because how else would you deal with the stress of this hellish semester. You angrily shoved your second batch of clothes into the washer, occasionally looking at the laptop not too far from you in an attempt to memorize any details of the human chest anatomy. As you measured the bleach and poured it in the washer, you forgot what it was you were reciting in your head, turning to the diagram again and repeating the function of the thymus gland for god knows what time that day. 

So busy with the laundry and making sure you don’t push your laptop over the table by accident, you didn’t notice when someone walked into the room until you stood up and grabbed your orange juice. As you were about to take a sip, you heard someone shuffle behind you before speaking.

“Do you mind if I-” The man didn’t get to finish his question, stepping back when he saw you jump in distress.

“OH MY GOD!” You screamed at the top of your lungs, turning around and not watching where you were stepping as you tried to put space between the two of you. You fell to the floor, your heart hammering in fear before it beat against your chest in anger once you felt the sweet liquid spill all over your shirt. 

“I’m so sorry I didn’t-” The man stepped forward and held out his hand to pull you up, his eyes unintentionally descending to your soaking shirt.

“Jesus Christ what the hell is wrong with you? Trying to give me a heart attack or something?” You took his hand and let him pull you up, grabbing the bottle and its cap before throwing it in the trash. Wiping your face, you were about to say something when you looked up and saw who it was standing with you. Your eyes widened in horror because of course it was the quiet hottie two floors down that had to see you in this rather horrendous circumstance. 

“Believe me I thought you heard me when I walked in but I realized you were probably too invested in that diagram to notice me.” He pointed to your laptop, trying his hardest to avoid looking anywhere below your neck because he really didn’t want to get a boner in these sweatpants. 

“S-sorry about the mess, I’ll clean it up and give you some space.” You smiled nervously at him and were about to move towards the sink when he beat you to it and pulled out some paper towels before placing them on the floor. “Please, let me.” He looked up, his jaws clenching tightly when his eyes saw two hardened peaks teasing him through your wet shirt. He swallowed the lump in his throat and wiped the floor, knowing very well you caught him staring at your chest. When you did finally follow his gaze and looked down, embarrassment washed over you and you quickly crossed your arms to hide yourself. 

He stood up a moment later and reluctantly turned towards you before looking over to see if his laundry was done. When he saw the timer was down to zero, he blinked at your obvious nervousness, immediately unbuttoning his flannel and taking it off before stepping towards you. He could hear your elevated heart rate and felt bad for causing you so much discomfort. Whatever courage you had left was spent when you looked up at him, and boy did you wish you didn’t because you weren’t sure what was going to cause you to faint first, his cologne, the way his blue eyes dilated at seeing you, or how his chest expanded with each breath he took. 

“I am sorry miss. Here, take this so you could finish your laundry.” He held out his flannel to you and watched as you thought it over before reluctantly grabbing it. Who even looked that good in just a wife beater and some old sweatpants?

“W-what about your laundry?” You questioned him, walking towards one of the corners and hoping he wouldn’t turn around as you changed out of your shirt. You could hear him walk away, the sound of the washer unlocking letting you know he was thankfully a few feet away and couldn’t possibly hear your heartbeat. 

“It’s fine, you can keep that until you’re done.” He quickly took his clothes out of the washer and shoved them in his basket, deciding to fold them back in his place because he really didn’t know what he could do should he stay in the same room with you for another moment. By the time you turned around and grabbed your shirt to put it in the washer, he was just about done grabbing his clothes. And when he didn finally look at you, he lost whatever self control he had left, the handle of the basket breaking under his hold and causing you to blink at him. 

You couldn’t really tell what he was thinking. He looked inconvenienced with his tense jaw and the harsh grasp he had on his basket. But he also had this aura of kindness around him, like a gentle giant kind of vibe. “Wow that’s one hell of a flannel collection you got there.” You cringed at the words as soon as they left your lips but he surprisingly didn’t laugh at you. On the contrary, his shoulders relaxed before he smiled at you.

“I grew up on a farm,” he said nothing else and you weren’t sure why his answer made your stomach churn. So he was a lumberjack basically. A sweet, muscular, introverted lumberjack who for some odd reason, lives in the city. 

“Thank you for this, it saved me going up four floors only to come back down again.” The flannel was long enough to be a dress and you nervously played with the long sleeves, not realizing that the more you touched the fabric, the harder he became in his sweatpants. 

“It’s no trouble, miss.” He was about to walk away when you stepped to him and grabbed his arm to stop him, goosebumps erupting on your skin when you realized just how muscular he is. You immediately took your hand away and waited until he met your eyes before speaking again.

“Y/N, my name is Y/N.” 

“I’m Clark.” He smiled and you watched as his incredibly fine, round ass walked away from you. When you were sure he went up the stairs, you swore quiet loudly as you pulled your phone out to call a friend. You couldn’t care less about school work or how you were standing in a stranger’s flannel that smelled way too fucking good. All you cared about was squealing like a teenage girl about the cute neighbor who didn’t miss a beat and offered his clothes because you had to make a complete fool out of yourself in front of him.

Unbeknownst to you, Clark could hear every single word you were saying about him, smiling at the prospect of someone your age gushing about him of all people, an average man who didn’t scream “friendly” to total strangers. Well, he wasn’t average but that didn’t matter. He folded his laundry and continued to eavesdrop on your call, not feeling an ounce of shame because you had so far called him “a greek god,” “a sexy farm boy,” and “a big softie.” Clark honestly wasn’t sure which of these was responsible for the raging hard-on he was suffering from and he didn’t really care because he could hear you compliment his scent to whoever you were on the phone with and he hated how vocal you were about your so-called “attraction” to him. 

By the time you were finished with the phone call, you’d lost all hope of retaining any new information about the human body. Then again, if it were up to you, you could have studied his body. For science of course. All the time you were switching out your clothes and absent-mindedly scrolling through your notes, you couldn’t help but bring the flannel up to your nose, taking in deep breaths and relaxing as his musky scent hit your nostrils.

“Fucking hell he smells good.” You whispered to yourself, feeling the sudden urge to reach down and scratch that itch that’s been bothering you ever since he walked in. And you really were about to do it, had it not been for the drier letting you know your clothes are clean.

So much for wanting to get some studying done. 

You collected your things and made your way up the stairs, halting at the second floor and looking at Clark’s door. It wasn’t that you were a stalker or anything. You just saw him a couple of times returning from work. Granted you’d stare at his ass for a few seconds but you didn’t purposely seek him out. You looked at your clothes and thought to just give him his flannel back but you immediately shook your head, ascending the stairs quickly before you changed your mind. 

Clark was writing a new article when he heard your steps slow down and stop at the top of the stairs. He slowly stood up and approached the door, looking past the wood and watching as you silently debated on something before you thought against it and ran up the stairs. He smiled to himself, knowing he was right and that you wouldn’t return his plaid shirt just yet. 

As soon as you got back to your apartment, you folded your clothes and paced around the empty living room. A heavy sigh made its way past your throat and you looked down at the shirt, wanting very much to relieve your stress but knowing there wasn’t time for that self-care session. You put the kettle on and decided to force yourself to get something done before the sun set. If you weren’t going to memorize that shit then you were certainly going to finish some of the other assignments. 

Surprisingly, you managed to finish one of the research papers by eight and you lounged on your couch and listened to some jazz music as you wrote the discussion responses and questions for your other classes. You were happy that you’d only had the two research papers and the exams to study for. Rubbing your eyes, you managed to shut your laptop before rolling on the couch, staring out your curtains before taking a deep breath. 

And that’s when it hit you.

It was such a stupid thought but for some reason, you genuinely believed you managed to finish all of this studying because of what you were wearing. You looked down at the shirt and pulled it to your nose for god knows what time that day, taking a deep breath before letting your mind wander to the little encounter from earlier. 

You’ve had several crushes before but never like this. Not ones that made you feel peaceful at least. Maybe after this semester was over, you’d muster up the courage to ask him out. But what if he had someone already? How awkward would that be? Surely someone with his manners and looks had a girlfriend, a boyfriend even. 

You didn’t dwell on that for too long, not wanting to grow sad at the prospect of missing your chances with a guy like him. You let your thoughts run over until you fell asleep, not realizing that Clark was also having a hard time riding his mind of you. 

You hoped you could run into him again to avoid the awkward encounter of knocking on his door and giving him his shirt but that never happened. Somehow, you couldn’t get a sight of him for the rest of the week, which was strange considering how often you managed to get a glimpse of the man. And you noticed you’d started to stress out again when you realized his scent grew incredibly weak, the flannel no longer bringing you peace of mind as it has for the past few days. 

There were only five days left and even though you had turned in all your research papers and taken one exam (and miraculously passed it), you still felt like shit. Five days to study for an exam should have been a Christmas gift compared to some of the schedules you had to deal with for the past two years, but you didn’t feel like studying and you hated that you knew what was keeping you from focusing. 

You distracted yourself with numerous things, buying unnecessary clothes and accessories online and even calling your friend and asking her what show you could binge watch next.

“Fuck this shit,” you threw your pillow across the room and grabbed your phone, ordering some take out before pulling up all of your human anatomy notes in an attempt to study again. You looked around your apartment and saw the plaid shirt on the other end of the couch, rolling your eyes at the sudden need to wear it because if that meant you could focus even for a few minutes, you were definitely going to put it on. 

A few minutes passed and you were still on the same diagram, swearing out loud when you heard the doorbell ring. 

“Well that was quick,” you grabbed a five dollar bill to tip the driver, unlocking the door and pulling it harder than intended. 

And then you forgot how to breathe for a second because shit shit shit Clark was standing in front of you and you were wearing his shirt and he was looking you up and down and fuck this was not okay. You silently cursed yourself because he was definitely going to think you were weird for wearing it when you had your own damn clothes. 

“Hey,” was the only thing Clark managed to say because his neurons decided to misfire and not form a proper sentence. Goddamn his clothes looked so much better on you.

“H-hi.” 

Clark cleared his throat and pretended he wasn’t gawking at you, holding out a few letters and waiting until you took them before he said anything else. 

“These were in my box by accident. Sorry about that. I think a few of them might be late, I haven’t been here all week.” You watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down before he pushed up his glasses and finally looked at you. 

“Oh, thank you. Was it vacation week or something?” Of all the things you could have asked to not sound pathetically desperate, that should have been the last of them. 

“Far from it, I was on an assignment and I had to go to Gotham to interview some businessman for the Daily Planet. Just got back.” He fixed the strap of his bag before shoving his hands in his pockets and such a simple gesture shouldn’t have made you drool but here you were. 

“You’re a reporter?” Somehow, that made sense but it was weird to see someone who grew up on a farm come to the city and take the oddest job. 

“Yeah.”

“That sounds nice.” You didn’t know what else to say, awkwardly shifting on your feet and hoping he’d continue the conversation for your sake. 

“It is most of the time, but then you have to sit down with eccentric billionaires and then it’s not so fun anymore.” Clark remarked and he was struck with a soft chuckle that almost made him lose his balance. 

“Let me guess, the infamous Bruce Wayne wasn’t as charming as everyone says he is.” You took a step forward and leaned against the door frame, noticing the way Clark stepped closer to you as well. 

“How did you know?” Clark said with a hint of sarcasm and you shook your head before looking past him and silently cursing when you saw the delivery guy approaching you.

“I’ve got an order for Y/N.” The young man took one look at Clark before he knew it was best for him to just deliver the food and leave. 

“Here, thank you so much.” You handed him the tip and smiled when he waved back at you.

“I’ll leave you to eat then,” Clark was about to walk away when you reached out and stopped him.

“Or you could come in? I ordered way too much food anyway.” You hoped you weren’t being too forward with him and let out a breath when he turned around and faced you.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude.” 

“You’re not.” You said way too quickly to your liking but knew it was worth it when he sent you that dashing smile again. He walked in and set his bag down before following you to the living room. 

“Make yourself at home,” you set down the food on the table in front of the couch before walking to the kitchen to grab a few plates and some drinks. When you walked back and handed him the beer to open until you brought out all the food, he raised an eyebrow at you and asked the question he’d been wanting to ask ever since he saw you.

“Are you old enough to be drinking this?” He asked jokingly and hoped you didn’t find his question too weird.

“Hey hey I’ll have you know I am not as young as I look.” You playfully raised your voice and watched as he held his hands up in defeat.

“Just want to make sure I’m not breaking the law or anything.” 

“I’m about to turn 23 so relax.” You sat down next to him, shoving the laptop to the side and grabbing the beer from his hand before rolling your eyes at him.

“So you are as young as you look then!” Clark hoped his tone still held some playfulness because he didn’t want you to know how turned on he was because of the age gap. Not that he expected anything. 

“I’m old enough…” You let the words hang in the air, pretending you were focusing on splitting the food evenly between the two of you. Clark narrowed his eyes at you before shifting them towards the bit of skin peaking through the buttons of his shirt. 

Fuck, his shirt. 

“Thanks for this, I definitely wouldn’t have bothered to cook for myself tonight.” He broke the silence, trying to think of anything but you wearing that shirt around the apartment. And he really didn’t want to picture you going to sleep in it. 

“Of course, I gotta return a bit of that southern hospitality after all.” You took a bite of the food and were about to say something when he beat you to it.

“And here I was thinking you could have just returned the shirt.” Of all the things you thought he was going to say, that was definitely not one of them because as far as you knew, he was not a confrontational man.

“I- uhhh, I was going t-”

“Relax sweetheart, I’m just teasing.” You almost choked on the food when he winked at you and you hoped to the almighty he wasn’t just pulling your leg. If your friend was here, she would have probably told you to play hard to get. But you were tired, and you didn’t think Clark was the kind of guy to enjoy that. He was older than you after all and he probably didn’t enjoy that childish behavior.

“Honestly, your shirt managed to help me with my stress.” When he said nothing and continued to stare at you, you decided you should probably apologize. “Sorry that sounded weird. Here I am being super creepy when you were just being nice. Probably don’t need this drama anyway.” You moved to get up and were about to head toward your room when you felt a hand wrap around your wrist and pull you back down. 

“Don’t. You’re being honest. It’s a breath of fresh air actually.” You weren’t sure what made your heart race, the way he was looking at you or the warm fingers he had still wrapped around your wrist. You smiled all the same, nodding awkwardly before reaching for your laptop. You touched the mouse bar so the screen didn’t sleep and turned your attention to Clark again.

“Still studying the anatomy?” Clark pointed to the screen, finishing up his food and thanking you for it before standing up to throw away the empty boxes.

“I actually stopped studying for it this past week. Had other more important assignments and exams to finish. You sure you don’t want any more?” You closed the two other boxes and followed him to the kitchen, placing the boxes in the fridge before grabbing the plates and forks to place in the sink.

“I’m good thank you. When is this exam then?” He stood at the sink and folded his sleeves, the action not going unnoticed by you. When you looked up and saw that he was staring at you, you cleared your throat and went to the table to clean the rest of the things. 

“It’s in five days and I really couldn’t care less because if I have to memorize one more fucking muscle, I’m going to lose my shit.” Clearing away everything, you washed your hands as well and followed him back to the couch, pretending you weren’t checking out his thighs that were currently spread out across his seat. Fuck he looked good.

“Maybe I can help with that.” Clark said before he could think twice about the bizarre idea

“How? Do you secretly know Professor Stevens and could talk to him for me so I don’t have to take the exam?” You jokingly asked, scrolling through the powerpoint to try and see which group you had to study next. When you didn’t hear a response and looked up, you saw Clark staring at you with an expression that you couldn’t quite understand. 

“I sadly don’t know Professor Stevens, but I’ve heard that it’s easier to study these things when you have a real life example to map out.” There wasn’t an inch of hesitance in his words and Clark was finding it very hard to keep a straight face when you looked so flustered. 

“Is this where you tell me you’re secretly a serial killer and I’m about to become one of your cadevers?” You tried to diffuse the sudden tension growing between you two but Clark never once dropped his gaze, setting his beer down on the table before standing up and rolling down his sleeves.

“No, but I am a willing participant and I will gladly be your example.” He didn’t give you a chance to respond, pulling his blue and green plaid shirt out of his jeans before unbuttoning the front, all the while making sure you never looked away. 

By the time he was finished, you could feel how soaked your panties were and you hoped he didn’t notice you shift in your seat. When he smiled, you knew he did.

“Oh,” you whispered when he opened his shirt and took it off, leaving him in the wife beater and tight, dark jeans. You took a deep breath to try and relax your mind but then he pulled the white material out of his jeans in one swift move and you were left staring at his incredibly muscular, slightly hairy chest that had you wanting to jump his bones right away. 

He sat down again, this time much closer to you. You cleared your throat before turning to your laptop and scrolling to the diagram about the bones, looking it over before facing Clark again and silently asking him if you could move closer. When he raised an eyebrow and nodded at you, you cleared your throat before taking his arm and pulling it on your lap. 

You should’ve known it would be heavy considering how muscular he was but nothing prepared you for how soft his arm would be, even with all the hair. This was not the time to be horny and yet here you were, wanting to do something else with his fingers. 

Softly, you took his hand and rested it on your lap, tracing his fingers as you called out the different bones on the limb. “Phalanges…metacarpals…c-carpals.” You spent a little bit longer on his wrist, turning it up before softly passing over the veins of his arms. When you realized you weren’t actually moving over the bones, you blinked rapidly before continuing to his arm. His arm was now rating completely on your lap and although his hand was facing the ceiling, you couldn’t help but feel like he was purposely making sure he was touching the skin of your thighs. 

Dismissing the wild thought, you applied pressure with one hand on his ulna while the other passed over the hair of his arm and mirrored your actions but on his radius. When you looked up, you saw Clark’s piercing blue eyes staring into yours, not bothering to hide his obvious fascination with your lips before looking down to where you were touching him. You swallowed the lump in your throat before moving your hand to the humerus, not bothering to linger on his arm because you knew very well which bones that was. 

Before you could convince yourself not to, you decided the hell with being appropriate, hands continuing their journey up to his shoulders before lingering over the clavicle, finding it incredibly sexy because it was protruding. And when your other hand moved to his chest and splayed across the center, you made sure to never look away from his suddenly dilated pupils, pushing on the hard center and whispering “sternum.”

“You’re doing pretty well darling…don’t know why you’re worried about this exam.” Clark’s jaw was tense and you knew he was as affected by you as you were by him. 

“I’m more worried about muscle groups if I’m being honest.” You replied breathlessly, not expecting him to reach over and pull you on his lap. You gasped before settling down on him, not bothering to be sly when you moved your hips and found him hard beneath you.

“Get up close and personal Y/N, I don’t mind.” Clark smiled when you grabbed his arm and brought it close to you again, tracing the forearm and whispering the muscles as you touched each of them. “Flexor carpi ulnaris…E-extensor carpi radialis longus…ah fuck.” You couldn’t take it anymore, swearing when you felt his other hand grasp your thighs and squeeze them. 

“Focus,” he dared to warn you, chuckling when you narrowed your eyes at him in warning. 

You continued to move your fingers on his arm, no longer shying away from feeling him up a bit more. As soon as you reached his biceps and named the muscle, Clark was flexing beneath you, the small reflex turning you on way more than it should have. You lingered on his biceps a bit more than you should have and Clark noticed, the fingers of the arm you were studying wrapping around your upper arm before jerking you in his arms.

“I said focus.” His tone was dangerous and you couldn’t help the little drag you took across his thighs. Clark looked down at you before raising his eyebrows, his chest expanding with pride because your self-control was slipping just as his.

“D-deltoid,” you passed over his shoulders before finally reaching where you’ve wanted to touch him for so long. As soon as you placed both of your hands over his chest and whispered “pectoralis,” Clark was wrapping his arms around you and pulling you towards him, lips crashing against yours so aggressively you almost thought you broke your teeth. He was hungry to touch you, his arms not letting up once as he devoured your mouth. When you tried to pull away to breathe, Clark moaned against you, fingers pushing the back of your head towards him so he could suck on your tongue. 

A few seconds later, he finally realized the two of you needed to breathe, letting go before continuing his attack down your neck. You found yourself pushing your body to him, sighing and moaning when you felt his teeth nip and suck on whatever skin he had access to.

“Jesus fucking Christ, do you have…any idea, how sexy you look in my shirt?” He paused in between words to kiss your neck before deciding he wanted your mouth again. You didn’t have much choice, giving yourself over to him and not bothering to attempt to have any control of the man beneath you. To say you were surprised by how needy and bold he suddenly was would have been the understatement of the century. 

“God damn baby, I couldn’t keep my eyes off of you last week. Not when you looked so embarrassed with these pretty tits begging me to get an eyeful of’em.” He leaned down and bit you through the shirt, not caring how ridiculous he probably looked. 

“Ohh Clark…please.” You weren’t sure what it was you were begging him for and you couldn’t care less.

“What do you want darling? I’ll give you anything you want. You’ve been such a good little sweetheart, wearin’ my shirt all week long. Were you Y/N?” You didn’t realize he was asking a question until he pulled away and lightly smacked your ass, begging you to answer him.

“Wh-what?”

“I asked, were you wearin’ my shirt all week?” 

“Oh god fuck, yes. Yes I was.” You tried to get out of his grasp to touch him but he didn’t let you, teh vice grip he had around your waist letting you know he wasn’t planning on letting up anytime soon.

“Such a pretty darling. Tell me Y/N, why didn’t you give it to me when you were done?” Before you could answer him, Clark was maneuvering you around, and for some reason, you were still surprised by the sheer power this man had because he handled you as if you weighed nothing. You found yourself buried under the hunk of flesh, and although you should have felt somewhat claustrophobic, you didn’t. On the contrary, you felt safe surrounded by him.

“I- it’s going to sound stupid.” You tried to distract him because you were afraid he’d think you were weird. 

“Please, baby. Tell me.” The man cooed in your ears and you were amazed by how soft he was being when a moment ago, he was just about ready to devour you.

“Y-you smell nice…your cologne, it helped me get work done. A-and I slept better when I wore it. Made me feel safe.” You couldn’t look at him, not wanting to drive him away by your obsession. You did only meet a week ago. 

You took his silence for disgust and were about to push him away when he crushed you with his weight, stopping all thoughts of wanting to get away from him.

“Fucking hell Y/N, you’re going to be the death of me.” As soon as you looked into his eyes, Clark was pushing you further into the couch, his lips savoring every inch of your own, biting and engulfing them like a madman.

“Shouldn’t have gone to Gotham. Should’ve stayed here and tried to ask you out.” He was babbling nonsense, taking both of your hands in his and raising him high above your head. 

“Oh god Clark…”

“Have dinner with me baby?”

“Yes anything. I’ll do anything you want me to do…j-just don’t stop. Please don’t stah-ahh,” you screamed in surprise when you heard buttons clattering across the floor, looking down at the ruined shirt before attempting to focus on Clark.

He was smiling devilishly at you, maintaining eye contact as he ripped the rest of the shirt before giving your newly exposed skin some attention. The man somehow was becoming sexier by the second and you had a feeling tonight would be a night you’d never forget.

He kissed up your stomach, licking the valley between your breasts before winking at you. Before you could beg him to not do the same with your bra, he was already ripping it in half, not bothering with your little whines as he attacked your nipples. You were a moaning mess beneath him, his name like a prayer on your lips as he sucked and bit and pinched your hardened peaks. 

Clark continued his assault on you, not caring that you were shaking in his arms at this point. You were torn between looking down at him and throwing your head back to enjoy the sensations coursing through you. He moaned and growled as he sucked and pinched your nipples harder, occasionally jutting his hips and showing you just how much he wanted to have you.

It was so little, crept up on you without you noticing. Almost as if it was forced out of you. At a particular thrust of his hips, you were arching your back and pushing your breasts into his face, swearing and screaming his name until he slowly eased you down from your little high.

“Did…did you just-” Clark didn’t move a muscle, his cock finally catching up with his brain because did he just make you come without even touching your pussy?

“C-clark.” You sighed his name, looking at him through heavy-lidded eyes when you suddenly realized what just happened. 

Before you could attempt an apology at how pathetic your body was, Clark was sitting up and trying to take his pants off. When you saw him fumbling through the simplest of tasks, you felt heated and proud to have made this man a mess, unbuckling his belt and throwing it away before pushing down the zipper and trying to kick his pants down. He barely managed to take off his shoes and socks, marveling at how soft and warm your hands were against his skin as you dragged his jeans down his legs. 

“I need you, please. I need you inside me Clark. Now.” You begged insistently, no longer bothered by how needy this man made you. He nodded frantically and was about to pull down his boxer briefs when he remembered something. You watched him look around for something, furrowing your eyebrows at him before you realized what it was he wanted. “On the pill.” You half-yelled at him, not wanting to waste anymore time because you were so close to finally having him. He nodded at you and quickly got rid of his boxers, standing up and watching as your facial expression hardened and fear washed over your skin. 

“Oh fuck,” you swore louder than you intended, eyes shifting from his leaking cock to his face. How the hell were you going to fit that in you?

“Shit, baby don’t look at me like that. W-we can stop. I could just-” Clark tried to slow down, not wanting to hurt or even scare you in any way. 

“You kidding me? I’ve only been thinking about you fucking me senseless ever since I saw you. You’ll fit, it’ll be tight but y-you’ll fit. Just- just be gentle…go slow.” Your words slowed down as you became less and less positive that he was, in fact, going to fit his cock inside you and you watched as it twitched between his legs with every comment you said. 

“Fuck, don’t say things like that darling.” Clark was slowly losing himself in you, but he really didn’t want to let that affect him in any other way. He leaned down slowly, pulling you up until you were standing on one foot before turning you around in his arms and laying back on the couch with you on top of him. 

“Come here Y/N.” He whispered in your ears, wanting to feel your weight on top of him to remind him of how fragile you were in his arms. 

“Clark, I-” You turned your head to try and look at him, shutting your eyes when you felt his hands roaming your body. 

“Shhh sweetheart I got you. I’ll go slow, won’t even hurt you. But you have to promise that, ah fuck, i-if you do feel like you can’t do this, tell me. Don’t wanna lose you Y/N.” You weren’t sure what made you shudder, how kind he was even when he was painfully hard, or how he was making sure to let you know this wasn't just sex for him.

You nodded against him, spreading your legs across his thighs and looking down to see where his hands stopped. He made small circles around the outer lips of your pussy, groaning in your ears when he felt how wet and hot you were for him.

“Ready for me?” Clark reluctantly asked, waiting until you hummed your approval before grabbing his cock and inching the leaking tip into your pussy. He stopped moving when he felt you throw your head back against him, about to ask you if it was too much when you grabbed his hand and moved it towards your center, where you were joined. 

“F-fuck ahh Clark, y-you can keep going.” You barely managed to say to him, focusing on your lower muscles and trying to loosen up a bit to get used to him. Clark on the other hand was having a hard time, in more ways than one, trying to not shove his dick all the way inside of you. But when he heard your little plea, he couldn’t deny you anything, thrusting up into you and waiting until you adjusted to him stretching you out before moving again.

Within minutes, you were a mess above him, repeating his name over and over as you felt his cock reach so deep inside you while his hand circled around your clit.

“Fucking hell Y/N, you’re so tight. So warm and tight…such a good darling aren’t you?” He whispered words of encouragement in your ears, continuing to slowly buck his hips up into you as his hands touched your skin. 

“Clark, you feel so good…stretching me out like no one else. I- oh god ohh my god yes right there, I’ve never had big cock like you before.” You were sure he was going to split you in half and the thought of him destroying you made you even wetter. You could hear him pushing in and out of you, your juices letting him slide in easier than a few minutes before.

“Yeah baby just like that, keep taking my cock. You’re so good to me darling…made for me. Could spend hours inside you Y/N, if you only let me.” Clark kissed your shoulders before biting and sucking red marks across your neck, wanting to touch you anywhere he could reach. 

You finally managed to turn your head around enough to look at him, forcing your eyes to open and gasping when you could barely make out the blue of his orbs. You leaned down and kissed him, holding onto the hand snaked around your thighs and pleasuring you before you felt a different kind of heat spread inside you. 

Clark came with a growl, holding you down to him as he continued to fuck you. You fisted your hands around the couch, shaking in his arms when you felt him harden even more inside you. 

“Clark, you…did you-”

“Please baby, can I keep fucking you? Please, you feel like heaven.” You were sure you died and went to a different reality because this man did not have a refractory period and was probably going to be the death of you.

“Yes, fuck, yes okay just- I need to look at you, touch you, move with you.”

“Shit yeah alright I can do that, let me.” Clark slowly sat up, pulling you off of him and wincing when the cold air hit his skin. He didn’t give you a chance to get used to being empty, immediately pulling you onto his lap and lowering you down on his still hard cock before leaning up to kiss you. You hissed at the stretch again, distracting yourself with his lips and the flexing muscles beneath your hands to not think of how deep he was reaching inside of you.

Supporting your weight on him, you started riding him at a slightly quicker pace, wanting to come on his cock just once before he continued to use you to get off. 

“Come on Y/N, want to feel this pretty little cunt come ‘round me. Please darling, will you give me that? Will you come around me? So..f-fucking good,” Clark reached around and grabbed your ass, finding it incredibly sexy that you were scratching his chest to release some of that tension you felt from having him stretch you out.

Hearing him begging you to come around him was probably what had done it.. Or perhaps it was the way his muscles rippled beneath you each time you sought out his skin for support. It didn’t matter in the end because Clark fucked you through your orgasm, whispering nonsensical things in your ears and waiting until you returned to your senses before he asked you a question.

He remained motionless to not distract you, pulling you to his chest to kiss you again before nuding you to answer him.

“Let’s move this to the bedroom?” Clark asked, perhaps the third or fourth time, chuckling against you when you just nodded and wrapped your limbs around him. He carefully stood up, refusing to pull out while trying to not hurt you and push in any further. You didn’t show any sign of discomfort when he stood to his full height, slowly walking around the table towards the only hallway in the apartment. 

When he did get to your room, he wrapped his arms around your back and made sure to lay down on the bed without breaking the hazy spell you were under. When he was sure you were comfortable, he supported his weight on his arms and pulled away from your neck to get a better look at you. 

He found you smiling and staring back at him, hands moving his sweaty hair away from his handsome face while the other one still held onto his arms. 

“Clark.” The way you said his name twisted something in his stomach and he knew that he couldn’t possibly go on without telling you his secret. He didn’t want to risk putting your life in danger, but something told him you’d be willing to take that chance for him. At least he hoped he was worth it to you.

“Y/N, I-”

“Please, move…let me make you feel good baby.” You cut him off, knowing he was probably trying to say something that didn’t need to be addressed anytime soon.

And my god, when he did start thrusting into you again, it was like you found the answer to a question you never knew you had. He was so gentle, kissing you everywhere and smiling when he saw the dazed expression aimed at him. He continued to whisper sweet things in your ear, occasionally pinching your nipples or rubbing your clit with his navel. 

You arched your back against him, feeling the familiar tug in your lower stomach but wanting to wait until he came with you. You could tell Clark was chasing after his orgasm because his grunts grew louder and his rhythm faltered. His arms moved from caging you in to grabbing your neck and pushing you up to him so he could kiss you. In the end, it was his neediness that pushed you over the edge, crying out his name as you felt him thrust into you one, two, three times before you felt the familiar heat fill your insides.

Had you had one functioning neuron, you would have marveled at how much more he came the second time around. But you didn’t.

The both of you stayed wrapped around each other until Clark realized that should he stay inside you any longer, he would probably go for round three, and the last thing he wanted was to freak you out by how long he could go. 

When he finally forced himself to pull out, he swore under his breath at the sight of his cum leaking out of you and before he could stop himself, he was pushing his cum back into your cunt, smirking with pride when your legs shook and you winced at the thick fingers pushing in and out of you.

Clark, however, was surprised when he didn pull his fingers out and watched as you grabbed his wrist and pulled the two digits into your mouth, never losing eye contact as you licked and sucked his fingers till they were clean.

“You’re going to be the death of me Y/N.” Clark smiled before falling to the side and wrapping his arms around you. You sighed happily, looking up at him as you traced shapes around his chest. 

“I didn’t hurt you did I?” Clark asked to make sure you weren’t feeling any discomfort. 

“Pretty sure I won’t be able to walk for the next few days but fuck me it was worth it.”

“Careful what you wish for Y/N.” Clark warned and you laughed against him before you snuggled into his embrace. 

A few minutes passed in silence before you realized you needed to ask him what’s been on your mind ever since he walked into your apartment.

“You aren’t put off by my age are you?” Clark looked quizzically at you before pushing up to his elbows, making sure you knew he was giving you his undivided attention. You continued to play with his chest hair, refusing to look at him when you elaborated. “I just know that…well, sometimes, older guys don’t take younger girls too seriously and..what I wanted to tell you was-”

“This wasn’t just sex to me Y/N. I want to go on dates with you. I want to take you out to galas we have at work. I want to help you out when you’re too stressed or when you need to vent about something. I want to be here with you. If anything, I feel like you deserve someone your age.” Clark combed back your hair, taking the hand on his chest and bringing it to his lips before kissing it over and over again.

“I don’t think I can find anyone my age that’ll make me feel as safe as you make me.” Clark would never get used to hearing you admit you feel safe with him. It did something to him knowing you weren’t one to shy away from vocalizing your thoughts and emotions. 

“You mean you won’t find a guy who’ll let you steal his shirts and walk around with them.” You punched his chest and allowed yourself to breathe again because now that you got this off your chest, you could be sort of normal again. 

Clark was about to say something when he felt you trace his skin again, the hairs on his arms feeling standing up at your obvious attraction to him. He wasn’t a vain man, far from it, but he felt happy that you were pleased with him. 

“Don’t tempt me sweetheart.”

“What? I’m just reviewing for the exam. You don’t want me to fail do you?” You asked playfully, hoping to god he didn’t feel weird by how much you wanted to touch him.

“By all means, review.” Clark laid his head over his arms, flexing the muscles you were currently “studying” before looking down and raising an eyebrow at you. “But I’m not responsible for what’s to follow.”

“Is that a promise or a warning?”

In the blink of an eye, Clark was shoving himself between your legs, shamelessly rolling his hips against your wet core and not caring that you probably needed some rest before you went for it again.

“It’s just my southern hospitality darling.”

[ereawrites]

Dick Grayson x Reader - Mania

this was requested by: anon

word count: 10.5k / rating explicit

a/n: sex pollen so auto dubcon (?), but both reader and dick are affected so idk

taglist: @daddyissuesmademe @idkmanicantenglish

It's your fault, really. You should never have got involved in the first place, but the temptation was just too great to resist. How could you pass up the opportunity to investigate Poison Ivy's pollen? This was the first decent sample any of you had ever managed to get - even Bruce, though you suspect there have been a few times he's managed to get up close and personal with the pollen - and normally Tim would handle it, but he's away on business with Bruce, and Damian's too young to deal with intensive research, and Jason just can't bring himself to care. So, that left Dick, and you could've left it at that. You should have. Then again, Tim did text you to recommend that you helped Dick: actually, you would never have left your room if it hadn't been for his intervention. It's Tim's fault.

The thing is, everything was fine at first; you've, perhaps, been harbouring the slightest crush on Dick for a while now, and it's always nice to spend time with him. He's fun to be around, even if his classic charm sometimes borders on teasing flirtation, and he's got such an incredible mind. You forget that, at times - he has a bad habit of putting himself down as the 'kind one' of the family, the emotional support or the comic relief, and he forgets to let himself be brilliant, too. He doesn't realise you've noticed that. Or maybe he does, but he doesn't say anything, and you've happily spent the past two hours studying Ivy's pollen together.

"It's definitely pheromonal, but I've never seen a chemical composition like this before-", you say, eyes glued to the computer screen. Dick is leaning over the back of your chair, one hand on your shoulder and one hand on the desk beside you, and you shouldn't feel as tense as you do. "-look, this section doesn't occur naturally in any species we've seen. She's synthesising these pheromones somehow, it's not like she's injecting them, but I just - I don't get how."

He pushes off from the desk, grabs the back of your chair, and spins you to face him with a half-smile. "I hate to break your train of thought, but I think we need a biochem specialist.", he says, and you suddenly notice how tired he looks: his eyes are still vibrant, warm, but exhausted. "We've done as much as we can on this, right? No shame in calling in the big guns."

"Tim?", you reply, knowingly, relishing in the way Dick's smile grows into a full grin. He's still gripping the edges of your chair, effectively caging you in: you are not looking at his arms, and you can be certain of this because you are looking very, very intently at his face.

"Having a genius brother has its perks, I know. I'll call him now. It's late in Tokyo - he won't be in a meeting, he'll probably just be awake in his hotel room, tapping away at his laptop.", Dick says, finally moving away to fetch his phone, and his voice trails off into a mumble that he clearly doesn't mean for you to hear. "God, he worries me. He really does."

It's much too warm in here: you sigh, and shrug off your jacket, slinging it over the back of the computer chair before calling out,"You're such a mother hen sometimes, Dick."

"I care. Sue me.", he replies with a faux scowl. "You don't complain when you're ill and I bring you hot soup."

"You're a good cook, what can I say?"

"Husband material!", he chirps. You feel your stomach leap and your cheeks heat up at his words. He's only teasing, but the truth of it is, it has more effect on you than you would like to admit. Thankfully, he's quickly distracted by the crackle of Tim picking up the phone. "Timmy! How's things?"

Tim's voice is dry, as always, but with a noticeable undercurrent of frustration. "Shit. I hate it here."

"Hey, Tim. Bad day?", you say with sympathy. You feel a little bad for bothering him, now; as hard as everyone in the family works, Tim definitely pushes himself the hardest.

"I'm the youngest person here by at least twenty years, and my stomach can't handle sushi. Plus, Bruce gets separation anxiety from the rest of you. The one upside is that I've been able to practice my Japanese.", Tim replies. You feel bad for him, of course, but the image of him having to comfort a homesick Bruce has you suppressing a snicker.

Dick shoots an amused smile at you - he's too beautiful when he smiles, it isn't fair - that starkly contrasts the comforting tone he uses to respond to Tim. "Don't worry, darling brother - I've got something exciting for you! Check your emails - wait, only the most recent one, though, I sent you a link to a Red Hood fanpage-"

You interject with an accusatory wave of your finger. "Why the fuck didn't you send me that? Red Hood is sexy." If Jason were here, he would probably threaten to shoot you, but as it is, Dick's amusement only grows. His smile is so infectious, like it spirals out into the air and right into your chest, and you can't help but smile back at him. You don't know if it's the warmth of the room or simply from Dick himself, but you feel as though you're going to need to step outside for some fresh air soon.

"Because of your raging crush on Nightwing, probably." Tim cuts in, and you could fucking kill him. Dick gives you a pleased wink. "I'm looking at a pheromonal compound, right? Ivy's special formula?"

You muster as much venom into your voice as you can, without pissing Tim off so much that he leaves you to deal with this on your own. "Fuck you, Tim - and yeah. It's a newer version, though - I think she's evolving, if that makes sense? Her physiology is definitely changing." Tim gives a thoughtful hum in response to your words: you imagine it's in agreement.

Dick continues your train of thought. "We think she's working with someone else, or she's been experimenting on herself, maybe. Do you have any ideas about how she's making the new chemicals?"

"I'll need a few hours. Send me all the data over. You're right about it evolving, though - it's definitely airborne. Shit, this is actually really interesting - the molecules are more compact, smaller, so she doesn't need to rely on physical touch through her plants anymore-"

The rest of Tim's words are lost to a wave of horror. Airborne, he said - you'd doubt it if it wasn't for the similar shock that's written over Dick's face - and you have not been treating this sample as airborne. Ivy has always relied on physical, tangible contact to use her chemicals: you couldn't have known, there was no way you could've known, neither of you are experts on this kind of thing - you've fucked up.

"Airborne? How... airborne are we talking? Like, don't-sniff-the-test-tube?", Dick asks, cautiously, maintaining eye contact with you all the while. *Please, God, let it be don't-sniff-the-test-tube and nothing more than that. Please.*

"Shit, you haven't been wearing respirators - have you?". Tim sounds positively horrified. It does nothing to allay your fears, the worries that you've both been infected with Ivy's pollen; in fact, he all but confirms it. Everything is beginning to fall into place now. The tension around Dick - more so than usual, at least -, how warm you're feeling, the mental sluggishness that had you calling Tim in the first place.

You're angry at yourself, for your own stupidity - not Tim, but you're panicked, you're so unbelievably freaked out, and so you can't help but snap at the phone. "How were we meant to know, man? Ivy's never even hinted at having something of this level before!"

"You're working with chemicals, unknown chemicals, I hate-"

Dick cuts in before this can turn into a full-on confrontation. You've got no idea how he's managing to keep a level head. Perhaps the pheromones are already taking a more severe effect, or maybe it's a placebo effect, and you pray that it is, but you can already feel your heart beginning to pound against the confines of your chest. "It's just pheromones, right? We know it's not toxic, at least - Ivy's victims only take a few days to come around, at most. They're just kinda fucked up for a few days."

You admire Dick so, so much. He's right, he's always right, he always manages to keep you calm and make you feel safe: you'll just have to stay with him, and you'll be okay. If you stay here, he can comfort you, and maybe the impacts of the pollen won't even be that bad. And, if they are, well, there's no one else in the manor tonight, and Dick's so handsome and kind and strong, and maybe he'll - fuck.

Tim snickers. "Fucked, indeed. Only when Ivy's in a good mood, though. You guys better get ready for a tough night. I've heard it can get really bad, especially if you're deprived of - oh, fuck, I can't talk about this, this is too funny but it's so weird, oh my god-", and he dissolves into a fit of awkward, stunted laughter. Dick fixes you with an apologetic look, but you swear his golden cheeks are tinged with red.

"How long until it kicks in?", he asks. It's a stupid, stupid question, because you feel like you're close to dying already. You know what he means, though: when will it get bad? You've seen Ivy's victims before. They're entirely without dignity, practically begging to be touched, sobbing from the pain of it all - and you've only heard rumours about the depraved things they let Ivy do to them. What they ask her to do to them.

The huff of Tim's breath crackles through the phone. "Uh - I don't know, maybe an hour? A little less, since Bruce never opens the windows in there. Just seal the sample up, drink plenty of water, and try not to freak out. It'll pass. You won't die."

///

You thought you could do it - stay in your room, deal with this alone, avoid any potential awkwardness with Dick -but you can't. It's barely been an hour. Sixty-seven minutes since you left the cave, to be exact. Sixty-seven minutes since Dick grabbed you by the waist to halt your speedy departure, touch light but insistent, and said if you need anything, come to me. His eyes were dark when he said it. Deep, dark blue, an ocean that you could get lost swimming in; but pupils already dilating, breath already speeding up. He meant it as nothing more than a kindness. Still, though, that hasn't been enough to stop you from coming onto your fingers with the image of those eyes burned onto the backs of your eyelids.

Ivy's pollen is designed to induce lust, yes, but only for the first person you see after you're infected with it. This means two things: firstly, that you need Dick more than anything right now. Your head is pounding, your lungs feel like they're on fire - the sensation between your legs isn't aching, it's agony, and you've spent fifty-two of the past sixty-seven minutes trying, and failing, to fool your body into believing that your fingers are his. The first thing you know, is that you need him, because you saw him right after you were infected. The second thing you know - there was no one else in that room. You were the only person Dick could have seen.

So, stupidly, you seek him out. You go back down to the cave, without even taking the time to wash your hands, because that's what your body is telling you to do, and you're acting more and more on instinct. Potential awkwardness be damned. He'll fix this.

Dick's facing away from you, reclined in the computer chair: his posture seems almost relaxed, just almost, legs sprawled out and left elbow visibly sticking out from around the back of the chair, like he's got one hand close to his head. You'd assume he was still looking at the computer, if you weren't so hyperaware of everything right now, but you are, and you notice more. From what you can see of his body - it's low-blue-lit from the computer screen, enough that you can make out the muscle of his legs through his sweatpants if you squint, but it's not enough, you need to see more - he seems tense. Too tense. Normally, you'd sneak closer, but your head is practically spinning now and Dick will help you. He'll make this better. Your voice is hoarse and dry when you manage to call his name.

He immediately jolts in his seat, spinning to face you, and now that he's backlit by the computer, you can barely see more than the outline of his body. God, he looks so lean, so tall - "Are you okay?", he asks, and he sounds almost as bad as you feel. You swallow thickly before responding - and, through the fog in your head, you realise that your jacket is clutched in his left hand.

You, miraculously, manage a weak smile. "I just - I thought maybe it would, you know, be better to... be together, during this. In case - if one of us needs help, or something. I don't know.". You sound stupid. Dumb. You feel it, too, and you can't even bring yourself to care. The mere sight of him is helping: it doesn't remove the pain, or any of the physical sensations, really, but at least the panic of not being near him is being soothed.

"That's - yeah, okay. How are you feeling?", Dick replies. His voice is barely more than a whisper, but you hear it as clear as if he were right up against you. Chest pressed to your back, lips on the curve of your jaw, that voice going right through you and into the pits of your stomach.

It's wrong, to think of him like this, when all he's doing is trying to check that you're alright. He knows you aren't, but he's trying.

The best thing you can think to do is make a weak attempt at a joke. "I've got a newfound fear of Ivy." Dick even huffs out a laugh, but it's just as half-hearted as your words. "I didn't think it was going to be this bad at first, Jesus - but it keeps getting worse, and, it just-"

"-it hurts. I know.". Dick nods. As you take a step closer to him, you realise that your eyes have finally adjusted to the relative darkness of the cave, and you realise that you can see his cock straining against his sweatpants. He's hard. What's more, there's a distinct wet patch leaking through the material.

When you entered the cave, you couldn't see one of his hands; the chair wasn't moving enough for him to be stroking himself, and you're not sure whether you're glad he wasn't, but now that you think of it, there was definite movement. Like he was palming himself through his sweatpants, maybe. And the hand that was close to his head, it's clutching your jacket, he was holding your jacket close to his face while he-

"Dick - were you...?"

He sighs, halfway between embarrassed and resigned, and sinks back down into the computer chair. He keeps your jacket clenched in a white-knuckle grip. "I had to take the edge off somehow, right? I'm sorry, I didn't think you would be coming back down here, I never meant to make you uncomfortable or anything-"

"I'm not uncomfortable.", you blurt out before you know what you're saying. Dick's expression visibly shifts - you don't have the mental clarity to figure out into what, exactly - but you can feel your own eyes widen as you process  the implications of what you just said. "Oh, fuck - I didn't mean it like that, I - sorry."

Dick just shakes his head. He must mean for you not to worry. You stand in silence for a while, not exactly awkward but certainly thick with tension, before he pats a hand onto the desk beside him. "God, this is worse than I thought. Do you wanna come sit down?"

Do you? Although being closer to Dick sounds like the only thing you want in the world right now - god, you can't help but think about how good he would look, if you were close enough to really study him, now that you're beyond giving a fuck about etiquette - you're also acutely aware of how difficult it'll be to control yourself. Undeniably, you want him. You've wanted him for months, really - but the pollen has taken that desire and multiplied it tenfold, made it so that it's all-consuming and painful. In your room, nothing more than imagining him, it was bad enough. Now, now that you can see his fucking cock, now that the image of him rubbing himself with a blissed-out look on his face, it's almost impossible to control.

You move to sit next to him. You can't help yourself. Once you start moving, you feel like it's all in slow-motion: Dick's watching you, dark eyes trained so closely on your form, and you're wearing nothing more than a tight-fitting pair of leggings and a thin t-shirt. After what feels like an age - too long to be apart from him - you reach the desk, and upon clumsily perching yourself on it, you see Dick looking as though he's about to pass out.

"Fuck, did I - did I do something wrong? I'm sorry-", you say hastily, but he instantly shakes his head and trains his eyes on yours. The blue is nearly gone. It's all blown-out pupils now, so much that his eyes are nearly black.

He licks his lips as if to wet them. "-no, no, but - when you were in your room - when you were alone - did you do anything to take the edge off? Did you touch yourself?"

You could say no, if you wanted to. You could lie. He would know, but he wouldn't press it, and you could save yourself the shame. For all that Dick must be struggling just as much as you are, he's exceedingly kind, so much that no amount of fucked-up drugs could change that: he's still your Dick, underneath all of this.

"Yeah.", you admit after a heartbeat, and your stomach lurches when you see his cock twitch through the sweatpants. Still, you're embarrassed, and you feel the need to explain yourself just a little. "It felt like my skin was on fire unless I did. It still feels like that, though - like it just wasn't enough, I guess."

"I can smell it on you.", Dick says lowly. Oh, God. That's hot. That's so, unbelievably hot - especially when you see his cock twitch again - but absolutely mortifying. You're torn between wanting to jump on him, right here and now, and retreating back to your room. You compromise by burying your face in your hands, and letting out a pathetic whine to signal how fucked-up you are right now. Maybe you can calm down, now that you don't feel on the verge of a panic attack from being away from him, if you take a few deep breaths.

Naturally, Dick hardly gives you the chance. You feel his hand come to rest on your knee out of nowhere; it's a gentle touch, but you can feel him trembling, and the touch sends a bolt of electricity through you that's strong enough to make you jolt. "I want to help you. The whole point of these pheromones is to make it so that you need touch - it only hurts because we're not getting that. So, I can-", he says raspily, punctuating the pause with a reassuring squeeze to your lower thigh, "-touch you, just... platonically, if that's what you want. What you need."

His voice drops down an octave with the last sentence - you whine again, involuntarily, but you just about manage to turn the sound into words.

"Dick, you don't have to - we can just push through this, I know it'll be uncomfortable for you - I mean, I know it's not like we haven't hugged and stuff before, but this is different, I don't want you to feel forced because you feel bad for me."

Dick must lean forward, closer to you, because his palm slides further up your thigh. The pain that prickles insistently under your skin is beginning to turn into fiery heat: not unpleasant, but desperate, hot, and you're starting to feel like you're not going to be able to stop if he asks you to touch him. "I don't feel bad for you.", he insists, reaching up with his free hand to peel your hands away from your eyes. He curls his fingers around yours as he continues. "I just want to make you feel better - both of us feel better. See, it's already helping, right? Just relax. This is bad enough as it is."

His thumb starts to trace circles on the inside of your thigh. It's nowhere near high enough to be considered sexual, but the movement has your legs almost trembling. You wonder if he can feel the tension of your muscles. "It's... it doesn't hurt anymore. Thank you.". And, technically, you're not lying: it doesn't hurt, in fact it feels fucking incredible. You spent fifty-two minutes trying to replicate this sensation. He's only touching your thigh, it has no business feeling this good, but each little beat of his thumb has waves of pleasure crashing through you. God, how good would it feel to fuck him like this? You're shaking, and you know it, and it only makes him tug you by the hand to stand up.

Even the loss of his touch on your thigh feels devastating, but Dick's next words are more comfort than you could have imagined possible. "Here. Come sit, if you want.", he says - whispering again, voice so low and so deep, but it's just the effects of the pollen, you tell yourself - and gestures to his thigh. "You can lean back into me, don't worry, it'll be better for your back."

This has to feel as good for him as it does for you. Logically, it has to. You've both breathed in the same pollen, his skin has the same sheen of sweat that you can feel on your own skin, you're both trembling in every part of your body, and he's still rock hard. You can feel yourself leaking, god, enough that it might have dampened your leggings and left a wet spot on the desk. What would Dick do, if he saw that? He's clearly turned on, but maybe he still has the good sense to avoid fucking: maybe his view of you as 'just platonic' is so deeply ingrained, he would never touch you down there to feel how wet he's made you. Or, maybe he wants you like you want him.

"Are - are you sure?", you stammer. You can't stop looking at his lap. His cock, painfully obvious (and he mustn't care, because he blatantly drew your attention to it), and the corded muscle of his thighs, spread out straight to form you a perch.

"Mhmm...", he hums from somewhere deep in his chest, and suddenly you're grateful that he's still holding your hand, because the sound almost makes your knees buckle. He tugs gently. "Only if you want to be close to me, though."

He says that like an afterthought - like he knows exactly what you want, and like he's hungry for your touch and doesn't want to consider the idea that you don't want to give him it. You can't bring yourself to look at him before you move to sit in his lap, because you know he'll see the desire, and for now, you're still pretending that you don't want to push him down in that chair and ride him for hours. He'd like that, you think. He'd like it if you pulled his hair while you did it.

Dick lets go of your hand so he can take your waist in both hands, guiding you down onto his lap and gripping harder when your ass inadvertently brushes over his cock. You don't mean to do it, of course, and you jump like you've been shocked: you shuffle further down his thigh to avoid another mishap, but the movement causes your pussy to just barely drag against the hard muscle - you hardly manage to control your moan, forced to sink your teeth into your lip. Thankfully, Dick doesn't seem to notice, and he helps you lean back so his chest is pressed to your back, before lifting his arms to rest on the armrests. From here, he begins to rub soothing lines up and down your arms, and he tips his cheek down to rest against your shoulder with a relieved sigh.

"Fuck, that... yeah, that feels better.", you practically gasp. Feeling him pressed up against the entire length of your body, as torturous as it is, is the most relief you've gained all evening; his legs are shaking just enough that you can feel it in your core, though, and you're forced to tilt your head back to rest on his shoulder. You'll lose your fucking mind if you don't start to relax, he's right.

With your neck exposed, though, you can feel Dick's hot breath tickling your skin when he speaks. "Good, right? It feels good?". For the first time, you really hear the tension in his voice. So much so that you can't pass it off as your own projections, or a trick of his tone - he's just as desperate as you are, holy shit, he sounds halfway to begging, he sounds like he's dying to know that his touch is making you feel good. Your hips twitch of their own accord.

"Yeah... Dick?", you whisper after a few moments. He nods in response against your shoulder, a slow, dragging movement that feels like honey dripping through your veins from the point of contact. "Are you really warm, too, or like - is that just me? I - I feel like I'm burning up... Do you mind if I..." - you trail off, instead opting to tug cautiously at the hem of your shirt.

He sucks in a deep, rapid breath that you feel press against your back. For a moment, you worry that you've gone too far - it feels so good, but it's too weird, too strange for him even now - but then he slowly curls his fingers around the hem, replacing your own hands, and starts to pull upwards at a torturous pace. His knuckles drag over your lower abdomen for just a second and your hips twitch again, and he definitely felt it this time but he says nothing, and his breathing is warm and fast against the skin of your neck; with the shirt discarded, you're left in nothing more than a thin bra. Although the room feels warm, furnace-hot, you're all too aware of the blatant hardness of your nipples, and you tell yourself it's okay, he won't notice, because you're facing away and he won't - his palm drags against your breast on the way back down and it feels so good, too good, and you can't help but whimper, "Fuck, yes-"

Three things happen in quick succession. Dick freezes, you realise what you've done and move to jump up and run for the hills, and then Dick grabs your hips and pulls you back into him, right over his cock, this time. The friction makes both of you let out a breathy sigh, but where you clap a hand over your mouth, Dick follows it up with a hoarse proposition. "I can touch you properly, if you want. It'll make all this go away, I promise - do you want me to?", he rasps, pressing one, quick kiss to the skin where your neck meets your shoulder. "Do you want me to touch you?"

His grasp on your hips is tight, wanting, but gentle enough that you know he wouldn't stop you if you tried to leave again. When you make no move to do so - you're frozen, you can't believe he's just offered to do what your body is screaming for - Dick pulls at your hips, slowly, dragging your ass over his cock and then pushing you back down. He repeats the motion a few times, rolling his own hips up into you a little more with each motion, and soon your muscles start to work so you can grind down onto him. Dick rewards you with a quiet moan - oh, you want him to do that again, you're going to make him do that again, louder and louder - and then, with a touch so light you could cry, he traces one hand over your hipbones and down to your pussy.

One finger traces your slit through your leggings, and you hear yourself moan, but you're hardly aware of making the noise - just this simple touch feels almost as good as the orgasm you had earlier, even just this feather-light pressure through two layers of fabric, and every nerve ending in your body sets alight at once. This is what you needed, more than anything, for Dick to touch you and drag you down onto his cock, and you're so overwhelmed that every muscle in your body goes lax, leaving you to collapse into his chest.

Dick rubs gently at your pussy a few more times, like he's exploring you, and then suddenly he taps right where your clit is. You cry out, and he sighs against your neck. "God, I can feel how wet you are already. You should have told me, I would've done something sooner, you know that - fuck, you're so wet, let me - let me finger you, huh? Please?"

"Yeah - please, Dick.", you whine, and when you say his name, he moans and shoves his cock up against you again. He mumbles something into your skin that you don't quite make out, and then his hand is fumbling with your waistband, clumsily slipping into your underwear and then he's there, his fingers are brushing right against your clit, you sob out a broken cry - you're so wet that his fingers brush right through your folds, gliding like silk, and by the time he reaches your hole, two fingers easily sink in right to the knuckle.

Your pussy instantly clenches down, hard, and you feel more full than you thought could be possible. Dick moans into the skin of your neck and gives you a moment to calm down, to soothe the desperate jolting of your hips, before he starts to pump his fingers; slowly, at first, but soon picking up into a faster and more urgent pace. With each movement, he scissors his fingers a little, spreading you wider every time, and he starts to mouth at your neck with hot, wet kisses. "Do you like that, yeah? Am I making you feel good? Is this what you need?"

You fling an arm behind you to grasp at his hair, and when you tug after a particularly delicious curl of his fingers, he bites down hard onto your shoulder. "Fuck, yes, yes - please don't stop, please, Dick, don't stop-"

"I'm not going to stop, don't worry, I've got you - I'm here, I'm not gonna stop, you sound too pretty for me to stop, fuck - I knew you would sound pretty, keep making those noises for me."

Your body feels like it's going through the most intense orgasm of your life, especially now that he's given up on pumping his fingers in favour of curling them in rapid beats against your g-spot, but you know that you're not even coming yet: you're close, though, judging by the way the room is spinning around you, and the pressure building in the pit of your stomach - "I think I'm close, Dick, - oh, oh, oh my god, I don't - it's never felt like this before, I don't - fuck-"

"I know, I know, baby-", he croons, and the pet name has you tugging at his hair again, the other hand white-knuckled on the armrest, "-it's okay, it's gonna feel different - it's gonna feel better, I promise, it's going to be so good, I'm going to get you there, baby, come on."

"Fuck - fucking - Jesus, Dick, keep going, just like that-!", you all but shout, and Dick continues the massaging movement right up on your g-spot: the positioning of his hand means the heel of his palm is dragging over your clit, and your hips are frantically grinding up into his hand - god, you're gonna come, the world feels like it's crashing down around you, you feel the contractions start a few seconds before it actually hits you and it's going to be earth-shattering, you know it, every muscle in your body tenses up and through it all you hear Dick whispering, come on, that's it, I've got you, come on, come on, and then you're coming-

Distantly, you can feel his fingers continue their movements inside of you, unrelenting - and the other hand keeps a firm grip on your hips, grounding you onto his lap - but other than that, all you know is the white-flash across your vision and the pleasure slamming into each nerve in your body, one by one and then all at once: this is better than anything you've ever felt, better than every orgasm put together, and it feels feels for a moment like you're actually going to black out from the sheer intensity of the pleasure.

Then, suddenly, you're back in reality. Dick is heaving for breath against your shoulder, but it's nothing compared to the way your own lungs are screaming for air - god, you think you were screaming, given the scratching sensation in your throat - and his fingers are back to a slow, steady pumping, in and out of your swollen pussy. It hurts, a little, but this one orgasm has done nothing to sate your desperate hunger: in fact, it's only made it worse, only increased your desire for him, and you swear his cock is impossibly harder against your ass now.

"You - you're dripping onto my hand, baby, oh my god...", Dick pants, and there's a heartbeat where neither of you move - then, you feel his breath hitch, and suddenly his other hand is shoving unceremoniously under your waistband and going straight for your clit. He picks up the pace with the two fingers still inside you, matching each curl with a flick over your clit, and the motions are all so frenzied, those of a man possessed with some ravenous desire, like his one purpose is to have you writhing in his lap, and you give a wordless cry - too overcome with blinding pleasure to actually make a sound - that allows you to hear his ragged words. "Please, give me another one, one more - I want to make you squirt this time, it's going to be so good, I promise, just give me one more, pretty girl-"

This time, it's not just one wave of pleasure, spreading from your core and emanating outwards; no, it's wave after wave after wave, violently crashing over you and completely overcoming every part of your body, unrelenting and constant - this one lasts at least twice as long as the last, but you're hardly in the right state of mind to keep track of time, and every wave of pleasure that rushes through you is tenfold stronger than the last. You hear yourself shriek his name in the most pathetic, broken tone, and Dick cages you in against his body as best as he can as he keeps both hands working at your pussy, and you realise you're sobbing when he finally, finally stops.

When his fingers slip out of your pussy and exit your leggings, they're dripping wet. Dick audibly gasps, and then he brings his fingers to his mouth and sucks, moaning around the digits, and through hazy eyes you can see the most fucked-out look on his face just at the taste of your cum. He licks his fingers clean - you feel your pussy clench down again at the sight - before opening his eyes, fixing you with an intense stare, and panting, "You taste so fucking good - baby, I'm not going to be able to stop, I'm sorry, I need this, I need to fuck you - please."

He's asking permission, you realise. Neither of you are in control of what you're doing anymore, and he's still asking, as best as he can, if he's allowed to fuck you. There's a terrified look in his eyes, behind the frenzy and the lust - you clumsily crash your lips against his. He tastes of your juices, but it's one of the hottest things you've ever experienced, and he moans openly into your mouth, eagerly meeting your tongue with his own. You're exhausted, but kissing him renews your energy tenfold. You're suddenly overcome with the urge to feel his cock - inside you, yes, but you want to see it first, you want to make him cry out and moan and gasp for you - so you manoeuvre in his lap, keeping your mouth against his, to straddle his narrow hips and face him.

"Ah - ah, god, that feels amazing.", Dick moans, broken up between sloppy kisses, saliva starting to drip down both of your chins - but it's hot, so hot - as you frantically reach down to palm at him. The instant you finally touch his cock, you're gone: there's no stopping now that you can feel how achingly hard he is, now that you feel how he twitches under your hand each time you kiss him, and it takes much longer than you would like to undo the drawstring of his sweatpants, pull them down, and wrap your hand around the exposed length of him. He hisses as his whole body jerks.

Instantly, you set a frenzied pace of stroking him, relishing in each ragged moan that you rip from his throat; he's leaking into your palm, you realise, dripping over your fingers as you pull him back by the hair and attach your lips to his neck. When you suck a bruise into the softest part of his skin - the salty-sweat-tangy hollow beneath his Adam's apple - he shouts out your name, loud, followed by, "-fuck, fu- let me fuck you, baby, please, I - I'm close, you have to stop-"

"Come on my hand, Dickie.", you plead, and you're granted a thick spurt of precum when you lick a stripe up the column of his throat: he tastes so good, his skin so hot under your mouth, you can't stop, and you croon right into his ear, "It's - it's gonna last for hours, still, you're still gonna be hard - I'm still so needy for you, Dickie, look - come on my hand, let me see it, please. You can fuck me after, just come for me where I can watch it, oh - oh, please." His moans start to pick up in volume and frequency, coming from a place deeper in his throat. He's close, you know.

You've started to grind onto his thigh somewhere along the way. It feels amazing, it feels even better because you know he's twitching and aching for you just inches away - once you finally drag yourself out of the crook of his neck, you see that you've left a damp streak on his sweatpants in the wake of your hips, and the steady stream of precum leaking from his cock has soaked the material higher up. "Come on, Dickie, come on, let me see you come, I wanna see it, I - I'll, fuck, I'll lick it clean after, Jesus-", you blurt out, too far gone to be horrified at the ease with which the words spill from your lips.

"Oh, baby, shit-” he cries, and then his voice dissolves into a broken jumble of incoherent mumbles and whines. His cock twitches hard in your palm, once, twice, three times against the rapid pace you maintain on him, and then Dick bucks his hips up into your hand, back arched, perfectly still and tense; he comes hard, almost whimpering, head thrown back and eyes tightly shut, looking so, so perfect as you stroke him through it and grind feverishly onto his thigh. It's the image of his cock that has the breath snatched from your chest, though. Several thick ropes of cum spurt from him as you work him through it, some hitting the skin of your abdomen and some dripping down the length, and it just keeps going, no sign of stopping until Dick completely collapses, after almost a minute of moaning and coming - your hand is drenched with him.

The sight of his cum dripping from your palm makes something in your stomach clench hard, painfully, and suddenly you need to taste him, you have to, it hurts so much and it'll go away as soon as you get your mouth on him. You scramble off the chair, almost falling to your knees in front of him - he rushes to steady you, even with weak and shaky arms - but you don't care about how graceful you look right now. As soon as you manage to nestle yourself between thighs, you lick flat up the underside of his cock. The taste of it makes your eyes roll back in your head. Dick spits, "Holy shit!", and it trails off into a deep gasp as you wrap your lips around him and sink down as far as you can go. You'd take your time, usually, but everything in your body is screaming for you to taste him, let him fill you, and you're in no position for argument.

With each dip of your head - punctuated with a moan from the man above you, each one becoming closer to a growl, animalistic, and you think the pollen is beginning to send your bodies into total overdrive now - you take him as deeply as you can. You're nearly gagging, but that's what you need. His hands tangle into your hair; at first, you can tell he's trying to be as gentle as he can, but that's soon overcome with a tight, guiding grip that pushes you further down onto his cock with each bob of your mouth. The burning heat under your skin is killing you now, too much to ignore, so you manage to shuffle out of your leggings and underwear and kick them away: Dick groans roughly, maybe because he can smell you more clearly now-

"Come here, pretty girl-", Dick says, sliding his hands from your hair to lift you up by the jaw. You mean to whine, perhaps beg him to let you back down, because he feels so good in your mouth - then you see the look on his face. He looks totally gone. Nothing like the Dick you know, warm and gentle and relaxed: his eyes are completely clouded over, lips parted and slick with saliva, brow furrowed with something between pain and carnal desire. You imagine you look much the same, with spit dripping from your chin, the heat you can feel burning your cheeks, and the wetness you feel running down the insides of your thighs. He meets your eyes, and there's a moment of stillness. One thumb slips from your cheek to trace over your lower lip.

Then, both of you move at once - you surge forward to kiss him again, those perfect, pink lips - you fumble with the hem of his shirt, ripping it up and over his head while barely leaving his mouth for a second - Dick's hands slide down your body to your waist. He pulls you into him as he leans forward, half-supporting your weight, and suddenly your back is against the floor and he's on top of you, kissing you hard and bruising, the chair long since kicked away and forgotten about. Every inch of freshly exposed skin feels like molten silk under your touch: you slide greedy hands over his torso as he licks into your mouth, feeling the network of ridged scars and each ridge of muscle. Thankfully, Dick grants you a few precious, savoured moments to feel his skin, while he alternates between rolling his hips against your bare pussy and kicking off his sweatpants.

It's all ungraceful and clumsy - wet kisses stolen between your movements, each of you moaning against the other's lips - and it takes much, much too long for both of you to finally shed yourself of all your clothes. Dick's hands grab greedily at your breasts as he ruts his hips against you a few times, and you can feel how your wetness spreads over his cock. Then, his hands fly down to find your knees, and he drags them to fit around his waist, pulling up until your hips are fully tilted, the stretch of your muscles verging on uncomfortable. "Oh, fuck, that's it, baby. Keep your legs there for me, won't you? Come on, wrap your legs around me - I want to get as deep as I can, it's gonna feel amazing, I promise.", Dick says, bordering on a growl now that his voice is so deep and strained, and you do as he says immediately. You need him inside of you, now; you hook your ankles behind his back, kiss him, and desperately grind your hips into his.

And then, with one deep roll of his hips, he's inside of you. One quick thrust and he's buried to the hilt, and, God, he fits inside you so perfectly: your body all but melts at the feeling of finally being filled, and you keen as you instinctively use your ankles to press his hips further into you. Dick's just large enough to stretch you out, even with how wet and ready you are, without becoming painful, and the pollen means it only takes you a short moment to adjust to his size before your body is pleading to be fucked. He's shaking and panting with restraint above you whimper, "Ho-holy fuck, Dickie, please... please move, oh my god."

"I know, baby, I know.", he says, breathlessly, voice tight with pleasure but still sympathetic. Even with him motionless inside you, it already feels so good, better than anyone you've ever fucked, and you can hardly stop yourself from grabbing him by the shoulders, pushing him down, and riding him. "It just feels so good, you feel so good - I don't want to rush it, I want to make it last. Jesus, my body feels like it's on fire while I'm touching you, I - oh, fuck, I want to take it slow, make you feel so good you cry-"

"-We have all night to be slow, Dick, you can do whatever you want to me, just fuck me-"

Dick's hips roll into yours and a drawled curse falls from his parted lips. He pulls out, almost completely, enough that you panic and squeeze him tighter with your thighs, but then he pushes back into you, slowly, letting you savour the way each nerve ending inside your pussy is set ablaze; he repeats the motion, faster, his curses morphing into sweet mumbles of your name each time he bottoms out. You can hardly breathe - it feels so good, and each thrust of his hips is met with a pollen-driven roll of your own, so it's half-grinding, half-fucking - the slight curve of his cock has him dragging deliciously against your g-spot every time. His movements are picking up in intensity now, and you can tell the pollen is taking him over completely. The same is happening to you: fuck it, you don't want to think about the pollen anymore, you just want him.

"Ah, yes! Yes, right there-right- keep going-", you cry out after a particularly hard slam of his hips. Dick is propped up on one elbow, hair clinging to his forehead with sweat, and the other hand slips down to grab at your ass and pull you up into him. He's deep enough that it hurts, but it's the best pain you've ever experienced. "Fuck, faster, please!"

He obeys, mercifully, and you think you can see sweat starting to bead on his temples. "Is this what you need, pretty girl? Come on, tell me what you want - tell me I'm making you feel good, because you're making me feel so fucking good, I swear, better than I ever even imagined - fuck, you're so wet, are you going to come again? Please, please let me make you come on my cock."

The combination of his cock inside you, and his pelvis bumping against your clit, and the overwhelming sensations coursing through your body: it's all too much to bear, your body is going into total overdrive, and it's so embarrassing that he's got you like this. You never normally beg, you never normally come so fast, but this is different and addictive and incredible - you cry out an affirmation to his words, and suddenly his hand is gripping your chin. He's fully collapsed onto you now, and his movements are more frantic rutting than anything else.

"Look at me-", he pleads, using his hand to guide your face so you're staring right into those glassy eyes. "-look at me while you come, and it'll make me come."

You can feel your muscles beginning to tense up as your orgasm starts to grow. Already, your world is spinning, and you feel halfway to blacking out from the sheer intensity, so you tangle your hands into his hair as a way to ground yourself. "Please come inside me!", you whine - the idea of being filled with his cum, letting it drip out while he fucks another load into you, it's fucking mind-blowing and you can't imagine anything better than feeling him shoot into you while you come on his cock.

Dick's jaw clenches tightly. "Are - are you sure, baby? Is that what you want?"

The next thrust hits you perfectly, and you can't help but pull him tighter into you, so his head drops to the crook of your neck. "I need it, Dickie, you know - you know that - you need me too, right? Fuck, fuck - it's gonna feel so good, I'm so close-". He spends a few moments sucking a bruise into the most tender skin of your neck before moving to press his forehead to yours. Each rough movement of his hips has you jostling against the floor; your nipples are dragging against his chest every time, making you keen, and your swollen clit is being hit so perfectly by his hips, and he's making the most perfect and breathy noises against you - he looks so fucked-out, so gone, so completely absorbed in the feeling of his cock inside you, and your vision is starting to blur at the edges as the spark in your stomach finally bursts into flames-

"That's it, baby, come for me just like that.", Dick gasps, just as your orgasm rips through you. You've got no choice but to clutch at him desperately and ride out each devastating wave as a scream tears itself from your lungs: it feels like your body is tearing itself apart with each ripple of pleasure emanating from your core. Like your body is folding in on itself like a black hole does, when everything becomes too much to bear. You actually feel like you've died, you must have, this is too good and too much and too overwhelming - you hang on to Dick through it all, and your pussy clenches down so hard he can barely move inside you, and he chokes out your name before his own orgasm hits him.

You've come down just enough to process the way he looks and sounds as he comes. Your eyes are still hazy - you kept them on him, you must have - but you nearly come again at the mere sight of him. He's too far gone to even make sounds, and instead he stutters out broken breaths through wet lips, cheeks flushed and eyebrows furrowed hard, and his eyes stay fixed on you the whole time. Even as the rest of his body spasms and rocks into you uncontrollably, even as the hand on your chin slips down to your neck and squeezes, he keeps staring at you with all the lust in the world. The best part of it all, though, is how you feel his cum spilling out into you; even more than he shot onto your hand, somehow, and you realise you're crying from how relieved your body is. Fully, fully, crying, and Dick kisses away your tears as he collapses against you.

Despite how both of you are wincing at the overstimulation, neither of you ever stop moving through it all, and you keep grinding gingerly, carefully but sloppily, against each other even while you gasp for breath against each others' lips. It can't be more than ten seconds from when you come down, before you can't control the urge to whisper, "Give me another one, Dick, please. Keep fucking me." It hurts - it hurts because he's not fucking you, he's not moving enough - you need more.

Dick keeps rolling his hips against yours in shallow movements for a few seconds. His mouth is occupied with sucking more bruises into your neck, up your throat and across your jaw: he's mumbling something incoherent, slurring his words. Each fresh bruise has you gasping his name. You're going to be covered in marks after this - not just your neck, his grip on your ass and hips has been tight enough to leave bruises there, too - and you're entirely certain you've left scratch marks down his back. You nearly come again just at the thought of that; Dick, walking around for days with your marks left on him. Scratch marks under his dress shirts when he's on business, or under the tight material of his Nightwing suit, or blatantly visible through the obscenely sheer shirts he wears out clubbing. He's going to be marked as yours.

"You look so pretty like this, holy shit-", he says, pulling his head from your neck to admire his work. "You're so gorgeous - you always are, you always fucking are - but you look even better when you're mine, fuck-"

“-make me yours, then, please-"

You gasp in shock and disappointment as Dick suddenly pulls out, and his own face crumples at the loss of touch, but his palms are firm and insistent on your waist - he kisses you once, firmly, before he's manoeuvring your body like putty in his hands. You're flipped onto your stomach with another whisper of how pretty you are, and then Dick runs calloused palms down the soaked flesh of your thighs, up over your ass, over the curve of your spine and all the way up to gently, gently, press your cheek flat against the floor. He follows his hand with hot tongue, and when he reaches your ear, he murmurs, "You taste so good, pretty girl. Stay there for me. It's okay, let go. I've got you."

Uncontrollably, your ass jerks up and backwards against where his cock is pressing into you. He chuckles. He fucking laughs with his lips pressed to your cheek - maybe having came inside you has cleared his head enough that he can think straight enough to find your desperation funny - and one of his hands slides back down your body, spreading your pussy open for him to look at. You sense his body tense as he gazes at you. "...My cum is dripping out of you, oh my god."

Fuck it back into me, you think, but you're too far gone to string together a coherent sentence anymore. Your body can do the talking. You keep your cheek pressed to the floor, maybe because your muscles are too exhausted to lift your head, or maybe because it was so fucking hot how Dick pressed your head down, but you manage to meet his eyes. You plead with him as well as you can.

Dick's piercing blue eyes roll right back into his skull when he pushes into you again. From this angle, he feels even deeper than before: with one of his hands running lines up your spine, and his lips wet against the backs of your shoulders, and the steady, strong pace he sets fucking you, you're brought to the verge of tears again within minutes. You can hardly move your body to work with him in this position: he uses the weight of his body to press you into the floor, and each thrust of his hips has you moaning loud against the floor.

He brings a string of kisses and nips up your nape, so he can kiss your cheek again. It's sweet, a gentle gesture, only amplifying the pleasure that each deep snap of his hips brings. "I - I'm not hurting you, am I? I know it must be sensitive, baby, I understand if it's too much, I know - you can tell me if it's too much-"

"-no, please-", you whimper, terrified he's going to stop, "-it's so good, please, Dickie, you're exactly what I need-", and then your voice cuts out into a broken sob as one of his hand snakes between your body and the floor to find your clit. The rough pad of his finger brushes over it a few times, eliciting whimpers from you, before he settles for simply resting his finger on your clit. With each thrust, your hips are jostled against his finger just enough to send sparks of electricity shooting through your veins - every time, it feels like flames licking through each limb, and he's fucking into you so perfectly, claiming you with teeth at your neck, rasping your name against your skin - there's wetness against your cheek, like you're drooling, and you're almost certain you can feel the wetness of your pussy dripping onto his hand.

You're so swollen with desire, you can feel how tightly you're clenching down onto his cock. The mind-blowing pressure Dick's applying to your clit is only making it stronger. "You feel so good, baby. So, so, fucking good - holy shit, you're taking me so well." Then, there's a savage thrust of his hips, one that has both of you crying out in surprise and pleasure: he freezes buried to the hilt inside you. "You're going to make me come again soon, sweetie."

That means more of his cum inside you, more of his delicious moans and groans as he comes, and you say, "God, please-"

"-not yet, I want to make you come for me again. You feel so tight and hot when you do - I need it again, I want nothing more than that, please - you think you can give me another one, huh? One more for me?"

"I - I - yeah.", you stammer. You can, you know you can - your body is practically vibrating from how hard you're trembling on the edge of another orgasm - but you don't know when it's going to stop, you don't know it ever will - maybe this will go on all night, maybe he'll fuck you for hours on end and make you cry and let you lick your mess of his cock. But maybe it won't. Maybe your body will give out, or the pollen will leave his system: this will end and nothing will ever compare. You don't want to come again if it means the end of this pleasure. "...Promise you'll keep going after, Dickie."

Dick starts rubbing rapid circles on your clit with his ring and index finger, and kisses your hairline to soothe you as you sob again. "I'm only going to stop if you ask me to, baby, I promise. You feel too good to stop, I swear - I never thought you would be so fucking perfect, but now I know, I can't stop - I'm right here, I've got you, I'm going to make you come so many times you forget your name if that's what you want."

God, you're going to come again, holy shit-

He hardly gives you the chance to come back around before he's crooning, "-one more, one more for me, right on my cock like that-"

You can't even breathe. Your lungs are on fire, your vision is completely blacked out even once the second orgasm ends, your muscles and bones have turned into mush and you can't feel anything other than the sensation of flying. You're weightless, Dick is the only thing grounding you - he coaxes you down from the aftershocks with soft kisses to your cheek, and his hand tracing circles onto your aching hip, and the muscles of his abdomen are flexing with restraint against your back. "I'm gonna come, baby-", he hisses, and you manage the barest nod and then he sinks his teeth right into your shoulder as he starts pounding into you like a whore, fuck, it's sending you spiralling out of control again-

"Fuck, yes, take my cum like that, that's it, keep coming for me, holy shit-"

You're both boneless and drenched in sweat by the end of it. You're collapsed against the floor, Dick's collapsed against you, and he's still hard inside of you. You can feel his cum - it must have spilled out onto the insides of your thighs, judging by the wetness you feel there. His cock twitches inside of you with every ragged breath he takes. You're so exhausted; this is destroying your body, it's ripping you apart from the inside out, and you're terrified that if you come again it'll split you into pieces. And you want that. You twist your body, wincing against the waves of pleasure that crash over you at even the slightest movement of his cock inside you, and kiss him.

[sugar-petals]

:: random things about boyfriend yoongi

↳ ♡ NOTE I saw this format floating around the fandom and thought it was cool and sweet (just like our honey boy so here it goes) 😊  includes an sfw and nsfw bit, both can be read independently.

words. 3k

SFW

First off, Yoongi is laid-back and casually sexy the way we know him. But he also has spikes of energy where he actually gets a little clingy. Any opportunity he will use to hold hands or jump around like a madman with his gummy smile because he got excited about something that you never could predict would make him so happy. He truly is an epiphany.

He’s your most eager personal chef but funnily enough a little unsettled by onions so you end up helping him. Yoongi hates to be crying in the kitchen because of some evil little vegetable but hey, perfect time and place to spend half an hour huddled together cooking or baking. And Yoongi is secretly longing for a cheesy scene, he finds it romantic when you wipe the tears from his face.

His way of speaking to you is a mix of mumbly Korean, high-pitched pouty cat speak, and old-school English slang phrases that he learned somewhere on social media or award shows back in 2018. Most of the time he takes things seriously but is up for some joking anyway. He is sure to giggle every now and then which is really adorable of him. Yoongi is also the person who gets every nuance of your humor and reacts to it.

After being single, you really have to get used to someone waddling around the house. Like— oh, he’s there! And it’s none other than him! Since Yoongi isn’t noisy when he concentrates on his laptop, it really stands out when he morphs from his unmovable rock-like being to a slow rolling stone headed towards the kitchen from time to time. You have to blink every time. And how could you not look up, he’s walking by with his cutest oversized sweaters and striped fluffy socks.

He cannot hide things that normal people would try to keep secret — because of their own discomfort, but he is good at blocking out things that serve your comfort. I’ll explain what I mean. If you have been keeping up with Yoongi postponing the reveal of his surgery until it was successful, you know what I mean. In short, Yoongi is pretty much an automatic filter for things that disturb you. Knowing the right time and place to inform you is the key. As is disregarding things that don’t concern you as a couple, unnecessary drama and opinions. He’s really good at that without ever trying to sugar-coat the important things because he remains a frank and honest soul.

Yoongi has an easier time giving random presents for simple occasions rather than making a big deal out of traditional festivities. So, big celebrations are often kept simple — unless the rest of BTS is there advocating their ‘a little party never killed nobody’ motto — while Yoongi focuses on getting you something attentive or useful every other day pretty much. He’s still a frugal type, you know him. It’s more about inexpensive things that catch his eye because he heard you likes this or that type of snack or want this or that sofa cushion. 

There’s always something new and surprising in the fridge and it’s hardly ever empty because Yoongs takes care of the groceries, really thinking it through. Just personal chef things. Being Yoongi’s partner must be the most destressing thing. He takes responsibility for the worldly things, the ironing clothes and the trash cans. He himself thinks that’s the easiest shit ever and is ready to put time into it (he sees the merit, it drives him) while thinking your side — the sheer act of being in love with him, being there for him — must be hard. Which it isn’t. 

Yoongi thinks emotions and relationships are tough and complicated while daily life runs smoothly at the snap of a finger. You think maintenance is a drudgery while love is not the maze your boyfriend assumes it is. Deep down Yoongi thinks he’s unlovable and a bad person, that’s why he believes he doesn’t have the burden but you have. That your affection then blazes past the barriers in Yoongi’s esteem is something that he finds incredible. It catches him off guard there, you burst the bubbles of the flaws he falsely imagines he has.

You bet your ARMY bomb you’re watching cat videos together.

Guess who’s the first person to hear all of Yoongi’s upcoming hit tracks? Even Namjoon gets the first sample ten minutes later. You gotta be really advanced at keeping secrets and avoiding accidental leaks with your phone or something.

Yoongi hesitates with the analogy because it’s a little funny and you’re evidently not a steaming liquid made of beans, but he claims you really are like his daily americano. Makes his every morning better. 

Now, in all seriousness. What means the most to him is that you take him how he is and are stable company. Yoongi is afraid of betrayal and stupid games so he has to be sure to have a safe bet going. I think that’s why he fancies marriage, it’s a sign of commitment and some degree of permanence to him. And yes, he is a bit jealous in nature since he’s easily invested in someone with a purity of feeling, almost in a naive way. Yoongi easily idolizes his partner and puts a lot of energy into a bond. He wants to protect that, take the risk, and he has watched for someone who radiates genuine trust and faith. He is sure to have found it in you without any illusions and he is right. Loyalty, loyalty, loyalty.

Playing the piano for dinner or date night is a must, he practices constantly to advance to a great standard. He secretly finds a lot of satisfaction in you cooing at his skills and melodies. Those ten bony fingers gliding over the keys with such a technicality and focus, and a passion that makes you hold your breath, it’s great to watch.

Did you see that one coming? He will compose and produce a designated mixtape only for you personally. Yes, with a little self-filmed, self-cut music video for the title track. 

Now those things never see the light of day, they’re all for you. But what about your couple life once it touches the social realm? As one might expect, Yoongi is very ‘eyes turn narrow’ with people who bring disharmony to your dynamic and the relationship in general. In fact, he is grumpy and disappointed, and should someone give him a reason, distinctly brutal. If someone even attempts to test you or plays manipulative games, Yoongi is relentlessly turning them from the inside out with his words that never miss the mark. They’re efficient. As I said, he hates playing annoying games, he’ll do any shortcut and be Yoongi.

I guarantee you can lean back and will never the fazed by stupid people and time wasters again. No need to lose face. Yoongi does the dirty work and is the best possible defender to have on your side. He handles that. Invasive opinions and useless phrases he will shove right up some trashtalker’s ass and leave. Let’s squarely say he is unafraid to be a armchair critic of your and his haters and doesn’t want any of that nuisance to disturb what you have together. He cuts very quick and makes sure not to get tangled up in trouble.

Yoongi will also debunk a whole bunch of weirdos on weverse asking about your private love while he’s at it. Prepare for some very entertaining snide remarks. Oh my god, so many entitled people will be pissed off. Many will also celebrate him for stepping up. What’s actually important to Yoongi is that nobody taints what is like a treasure to him.

It won’t be hard to overlook that Yoongi is very proud of you as well. He looks confident and revering when he hangs out with the group and you’re somewhere close by, even just doing something trivial.

He’s also pretty touchy, sometimes publically to demonstrate something, but mostly in the relative calm and safety of a hotel room. When the lights are out, all barriers crash, the utter romantic takes over. His favorite types of kisses besides those onto his hands are when you kiss his lashes. And yep. Yoongs is such a cozy little spoon. A very curled up one with cute shooky pajamas on most likely.

Talk about clothes. Believe it or not, Yoongi’s fashion goes through a significant change due to the relationship. He knows that you are touchy and thinks about what kinds of flannels are the biggest cuddle magnet, after all. And oh wonder, he will also show some level of skin when he accidentally hears your praises for his arms and legs and collar bones and glowy skin while talking to a close friend of yours. So, look forward to that in summer (he still dislikes the winter cold and wraps himself into scarves twice his size, mind you) though it’s still for your eyes only, he covers up when going out. Truth be told, he enjoys when you casually touch his skin. Especially the arms. Which hold up the firmament to you, and your world, too, and guard it.

BTS will know about how excited he is about you because he often boasts about for how long you’ve been living together by now. We all know this is Yoongi’s favorite way of bragging and it further shows that loyalty, dedication and longevity is the spice to his every meal.

Yoongi is probably going to quit the bottle because you naturally make him feel at ease and upbeat. In fact, he simply forgets about his wine. I don’t have to convince you that Yoongi will be very immersed in any interaction with you whether that be watching movies or discussing his latest tracks. 

Those discussions come with extra back massages for him because he spends a lot of hours in his chair. Especially around the neck, it’s no secret that this is in every cat’s top 3 favorite massaging areas. Yoongi is gonna make some really raspy, sleepy sounds and just melt in your hands. He’s gonna sleep like a baby afterwards every time. Sometimes, he says funny and cute things while he dozes. He looks very content.

Say goodbye to the 21st century adulting annoyances in your life because Yoongi has a grip on those without a word. Those six specific chores that always plague you take him only a dozen minutes and he is eager, the forms to fill out are already sent off, the list of people to e-mail is weeded through. The taxes are paid, the bank account is full, the meals are on the table, garnished to perfection. Roof over the head, and it’s a sturdy one, Yoongi bought a sound haven house to inhabit a lot of happiness for two. 

He’s probably the only person who doesn’t see it as a loss of dignity if you want to hold on tight to him during a dentist visit as a grown ass mf. Why all of this? Yoongi cannot not strive to feel needed in his actions. He wouldn’t like himself if he couldn’t contribute something reliable and useful. That you find things worthy of your time is priority. You complement each other, what you think is a waste of energy makes him work and strive and vice versa. That way, in the end all things are taken care of.

Giving is more important than taking in Yoongi’s world. He thinks of everything because he considers it an offense to have you in a pile of duties, that is, if you don’t like ‘em. It’s his form of dedicating his efforts and showing respect. He doesn’t need much in return. The things he expects if at all don’t feel like a duty: Much like he doesn’t consider doing those acts of services for you likewise.

Work horse he is, he needs something on his daily to-do plan. Which includes making you feel unbothered by the occasions of an incoming strict world when it’s getting to you. You’re supposed to do what you feel like doing just like him and not slave away at fifty deeds. That you torture yourself with daily life hassle is the thing he dislikes seeing the most. He enjoys doing these things so he’s happy to get going.

What’s not a daily life hassle: Holly is a big fan of yours. Instant friendship. Just wanted you to know.

He always knows how to preoccupy himself and finds something to improve. Getting on your nerves, and that’s no surprise, is the last thing Yoongi will ever do. In fact, you sometimes have to search for his napping spot because he got lost somewhere in the house. 

He either sleeps or works, his philosophy is simple. If you need him, he does appear seemingly out of nowhere. And, he spends as much time with you as you enjoy, not always prioritizing his producing unless it’s urgent or he’s on an inspiration streak. Which is great anyway, you can sit next to him listening. It’s the right balance of work and play.

Yoongi is not above blatantly showing off. Actually, he goes for an act of stunning pretty often. You know how cats parade around whatever they just caught. He wants to impress you with assets and accolades and appraisals, the boy can’t help it. That you only lightly nod at most of it with a little smile will confuse him but he will get the point later on. You wanna signal Yoongi that you anchor your love for him not in shifting numbers and chunky metal pieces. 

That you don’t confuse his signs of outward worth and fame with the core of the guy you find the sweetest in the world is very important to him. He will take some time to see through that because he’s used to being loved through status and its symbols by people close and afar. 

The way you throw yourself at him to give a big smooch in random situations — especially when he doesn’t feel great about himself— rather than only when he say gets a new car is sending him a message. Again, he has to grow into that. He will retreat at the beginning because he feels worthless of your affection on days where he doesn’t feel big and bold and successful. But since he sees you jumping on him because you need only his kind and squishy presence and see him as no different than usual because he’s always Yoongi underneath, your boyfriend will change his mind about it sooner or later. He learns that your presence makes him feel like a billion dollars yourself.

You don’t wallow in the regrets of other people missing the point of Yoongi and instead focus on always understanding him rather than enabling Yoongi into wrong directions. And there are many of those, his mental health can tell you a thing or two about it. He begins to get that you really know what you’re doing and are in it for the real him which makes him feel really loved far underneath all surfaces and images. You accept his fame and admire his work with music which is what he’s truly doing it for but also don’t forget that the most vulnerable Yoongi is the one that you’re there for and not a facade.

NSFW

I know you’re curious. That Yoongi’s sexual style is more than just interesting goes without saying. To give you an idea. Anything steamy with Yoongi means him taking his time. You know, for making it quality. Yoongi wants to grow into the right balance of activity and staying relaxed. He is good at keeping cool and bringing some focus to the madness. He wants to figure out how to be more casual instead of tense and overly preoccupied which he’ll be at the start of the relationship. But the fast learner he is, his nervousness fades way faster than you think. 

Yoongi is extremely afraid that he can’t please you or starts to become awkward slash clueless so he darts to the opposite of the spectrum and overperforms, even plays a character. You have enough cool yourself to tell him what to do in the pace that works best. That he stays centered in his body is important for you to teach him. When he gets grounded and juggling his confidence is out of the equation, he fucks the best.

His favorite position besides giving oral — with you on your back — will be doggy style. Man, we gotta talk about that. Slow to upper moderate pace, nothing too all over the place. Yoongi moans very slowly, too, all drawn out. Get ready for a frequent session of some anal to unwind. You heard that right. First, Yoongi will get the two of you into the right rhythm with his hands at the sides of your waist, then, ride it out in slow mo with his right hand properly stimulating you from the front. 

By habit, he will add some lube here and there but not use insanely dripping amounts so everything gets messy or he can’t touch you without sliding off anymore. Just enough to slide well. Yoongi is so good at this I swear, it’ll be your favorite thing to relax. He has the restraint and technique to pull it off rather than pulling out, huh. Yoongi is gonna stay inside you for ages. It feels like he’s massaging every spot for some extra time. It’s amazing to slack off your muscles, cool off, and get many a gentle but fulfilling orgasm. 

He’s not gonna put you through the hassle of dealing with an anal creampie cleanup so he keeps it wrapped, and mostly focuses on your movements altogether while keeping his own climax smooth and more relieving rather than something that relentlessly knocks him out in one go. Yoongi is good at observing and doesn’t feel the need to chase a violent high which is why he is so great at sex. Fucking with Yoongi leaves a wholesome feeling and you never feel ashamed or guilty, or a sense of being dirty and ruined. 

He enjoys having sex to make you feel really good and works his hands on you very respectfully. His goal is to have you wet and pulsing after a long while of getting you there, and putting you to a good night’s sleep. He’d feel terrible if he left you sore or disturbed. He is really passionate, especially with his kisses or when you ask him to slide into very deeply, but Yoongi being brash and controlling is an image out of sight.

Besides giving you the number one heavenly assfucks, Yoongi also likes to work his tongue as we know, and he’ll work it all over. Few body parts of yours have not made contact with that glorious mouth and I say that in the best of ways. You can instruct him to do whatever, Yoongi obliges with radiant joy. And here again, he takes minutes upon minutes. Kissing and kissing and licking and maybe even teasing once or twice to make you smile. You know, a little signature wink. Honoring your skin and every shape is not something that Yoongi has to talk about, he will physically show it and I swear it’ll finally get into your head with every little move, Yoongi has totally surrendered his tongue to your body and worships it.