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itsonlydana · 4 months ago

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Noisy Neighbors | hobbit

pairing: Thranduil x fem!reader x Bard 👑 [king's special]

Your new neighbors have been the bane of your existence - or rather sleep - for the last few nights, always keeping you up with their extensive love life. When you go up to confront the couple, you find another solution to the problem.

warnings/tags: NSWF! THIS IS ADULT CONTENT ✋️| [modern!AU] threesome, oral (f receiving), anal sex (m receiving), unprotected p in v, slight choking, brats (reader & Thranduil), mocking & dirty talk, Thranduil being a snarky bitch, he bites a bit, spitting, one ass-slap, praise, pet names, dom!bard, [reader is described with hair no further, no use of y/n]

word count: 6,2k

an: *lifts hands into the air* I'm sorry but writing Thranduil bitchy in this trio is what comes naturally, alright? I've been powering through this whole Sunday and between watching f1 and eating watermelon and packing up for a vacation, this surely made this day better. (not proofread, just wanted this baby out)

+ masterlist + rules + 🌿 reposts and comments are much appreciated, they motivate me a lot and keep me writing <3

They’re at it. Again!

Another night and you’re yet again held up by your neighbors fucking for the second time; on a Tuesday no less.

It’s 1 am and nearly seventy-three minutes – timed and noted down in your frazzled brain – after the noise had stopped the first time but now the moaning upstairs continues; this time accompanied by the banging of probably a bed frame that, if the force is anything to go by, is close to smashing in the walls.

You haven’t seen the new neighbors that had moved into the apartment above you, there had been moving trucks, a handful of handsome and very good-to-look-at guys carrying furniture around the garden and blocking the elevator for hours, leaving cigarette buts around and ringing at yours so often you doubted it was an accident every time, but there had been no one who introduced themselves.

Well, not personally.

Or rather in person, because what you hear every night is as personal as it gets.

As you lie in your bed, alone one might add, you wonder who this couple is.

Not that you have anything better to do. They’re the reason you’ve been either sleepless or fallen asleep to a lovely ASMR of two guys moaning that slowly snuck itself into your dreams; if anyone dares to say it isn’t appropriate or normal to think about the – sex – life of your neighbors you could counter that you had every right! Especially you.

They’re probably young, you figure, not by the number of times they’re going at each other and the length, god, it has been a good while, that stamina is astounding, but by whatever coherent words you can understand now and again, their voices delimited the range of possible ages.

And you had seen a pair of laced-up thigh-high black boots walking up the stairs after you had once heard the front door open and raced to peek through the peephole. Another time there had been a pair of very shiny and tight boxers left in the washing room downstairs and while you felt like a creep expecting them hanging on the line a few feet away from you, your basket clutched into your hands as you thought of the other renters here and how often you had seen their underwear, you concluded this must be one of theirs. The shoes as well as the boxers could belong to some older couple but that was most unlikely adding the different factors.

The names on their doorbell say ‘Oropherion & Bowmann’, though no Google search has brought up anything forth that could be them, nothing around this area anyway.

Another moan rips through the night, guttural and raspy, and by now, that sound’s imprinted into your mind as well as the gasp and shout that follow. A few seconds of bed rattling later the boyfriend/husband/lover roommate with lots and lots of benefits reaches his peak as well in a deep moan that reverberates in your bones and sends a heat to your face and much lower.

When silence falls, there’s an embarrassing moment of clarity as you release a shaking breath and quickly stand up on shaking legs to open your window, inhaling the cold air outside to fight against the urge to look up some porn and follow their example.

They’ve gotten to your head, twisted up whatever the stress at work had left to be corrupted into this perverse lust. On the one hand, you’ll do anything for a night of full sleep but on the other hand… what you wouldn’t do to – no, no, no, this route is just a spur of restlessness. Leftover frustration over the last few exes, and dates being unable to bring out whatever your neighbors clearly had no problems with.

They’re so vocal in their pleasure, that the last experiences of grinding against jeans in dingy club bathrooms or hookups ended in an unsatisfied call to a cab firm makes laying there, listening, fantasizing, even more unbearable.

Not just because of the few residues of your consciousness, the blaring ‘this is so wrong’ -sign lighting up neon red in your head, but taking in their noises travels a long way through your body and you’re short of actually snapping and resolving the issue of the throbbing inside your pants yourself.

The silence and air luckily help the cooldown; body and mind alike, and you wait, breathing in and out, calming down. Being up this late (or early) grants you the advantage of hearing the cicadas, the constant clicking, the low buzz of the aircon, and the distant rush of cars passing by. Somewhere there’s laughter, across the street, a TV light flickers through the white curtains fluttering in the opened window.

People and animals are still up. Life’s going on. Another night of losing sleep isn’t the end of the world, even if the long day ahead will try defiling this feeling of peace that you conjure, brain hooked on the few meditation videos your friend has shown you recently. The stress of this situation manifests in an uncontrollable grumpiness that slips over your tongue and spills out of your eyes like thunderous weather clouded once bright skies – suddenly, one sentence meant nice gets on your nerves.

You sigh and trot back to the pushed-back covers of your single bed, slipping your naked legs under the thin sheet. This is fine. Completely fine. You just need to close your eyes and concentrate on those damn sheep you had been counting before the rude interruption.

One sheep …. your shoulders sack into the pillow, relaxing slowly.

Two sheep … a heavy yawn breaks through your lips.

Three sheep … finally, you’ll be able to fall asleep. A few hours aren’t preferred, yet they’re better than no sleep at all.

Four sheep — and is that another. fucking. moan?

You sit up in your bed fast enough for dizziness to take over but that isn’t stopping any of the rage that switches your body to autopilot. In seconds after the godforsaken long moan echoes, you’re taking long and hard steps across your apartment, not caring one bit that you’re wearing neither shoes nor a long enough shirt to barely cover your ass and you haven’t even met them so this was neither an appropriate outfit nor emotion to confront them for the first time but fuck propriety!

“Fucking men,” you mumble underneath your breath as you waltz through your front door, – taking one step back to carefully push a sandal in between door and frame –, and then you’re up the stairs. Each step is fueled by that anger, the restlessness that pushes you over. In no other world would you have gotten this infuriated to completely ignore the otherwise introverted side of you, though they have taken it too far, “Just you wait.”

You basically fly across the corner of the stairway, rushing up the last few steps until you see the dark door, boots standing in front of it, and before you can even think about what you’re about to do, your fists already collide with the wood once, twice, three angry times.

Four for good measure.

Five just because they’re surely taking their time.

Before your hand knocks another time, the door is being ripped open and you’re suddenly face to face with the nightly disturbers of your peace. Or rather face to chest. You’re certain your eyes are still angry because when you lift your chin to look away from those sweaty chests and find their faces, the man closest to you flinches the tiniest bit.

“You’re fucking loud,” you point a finger firstly at them, then down, pronunciation making it clear that you aren’t swearing per se, “I’ve been trying to sleep for so fucking long and I’ll give you one guess why I’m still up and about? Huh? Ever heard of compassion for neighbors or– I don’t know, holding in some of the noises?” Your chest heaves at the row of complaints that spills over your curled lips, cheeks hot and very possibly just as red as they feel.

There is a second of silence where your voice carries through the hallway, bouncing along the walls.

You take the opportunity to give them a quick once-over, adding a wealth of new details to the mental picture you've been building. The man in front has dark brown, messy hair pulled into a ponytail, with some silver strands curling and sticking wetly to his forehead and temples. He sports a scruffy beard, with stubble on his pinkish cheeks and a thicker mustache over his lips. His body hair trails down, covering his defined chest, and extends further into the tight black boxers you saw in the basement.

The other one is strikingly different. Tall as well, towering over you though this has to do with the ice-cold and annoyed look that bores into you out of blue-grey eyes under heavy eyebrows. Long blonde hair falls over his lean chest, slightly ruffled but that’s no wonder after the two-and-a-half rounds in their bed. His lips are stuck together, adding to his attitude.

Both of them are gorgeous, dressed in nothing but boxers, and their bodies are marked by fingerprints and scratches. And while they surely are a bit older than you, that gap couldn’t be much.

“Wow,” the blonde, the one leaning against the wall behind his partner, the one being more long legs than anything else, rolls his eyes, “Aren’t you lovely?”

You swear you nearly feel a vein pop.

“Lovely?” you bring out between clenched teeth.

The brunette shoots a look over his shoulder, getting a shrug out of the taller one in exchange that most likely means he doesn’t care one bit, and then he turns back to you, offering a crooked smile that sinks in the edge of the right corner, an apology pulling the plush lips down. “I’m sorry,” he starts and nudges his head back, “an’ excuse Thranduil, he can be very – bratty.” The thick accent that curls around the words slightly surprises you but you’re back on track fast.

One eyebrow raised you stare at them. “Sure,” sarcasm drips over your tongue, “and to shut him up you dick him down or what?” In the morning, you’ll probably very much regret this crude language, the dismissive tone that resembles more a hiss than anything else.

“Yes, actually,” Thranduil cuts in and pushes his sharp chin up, looking down at you over the bridge of his nose. One of his hands, gods, they’re huge, lazily pats the broad shoulders of his partner, long and ringed fingers clanking together. He’s laying down heavily on some possessive shit you couldn’t care less about.

“Bite the curb or turn the moaning down,” you snap back, brows furrowed together.

“Maybe –”

“I’m Bard, by the way,” the brunette interrupts him and holds out a hand for you to shake. Hands, that had been who knew where a few minutes ago. Both of you seem to realize this at the same moment and while he cringes and pulls back, you offer your name, only looking at Bard and ignoring Thranduil, draped over Bard's back like a prying cat.

“Nice to meet ya. Thought about coming down a few times but never caught you home,” Bard says, attempting small talk. His effort is overshadowed by the sharp look-over Thranduil gives you, and it's clear that this is not the time to play the friendly neighbor.

You make that clearer by crossing your arms in front of your chest, unconsciously bunching up your shirt, and revealing the black string of your panties. Bard swallows, heavily.

“Well, nice to meet you,” you echo back dryly and cock your hip, “Can I go back to sleep in peace now? Are we done with this?”

Bard’s smile is pained, a bit embarrassed if you have to guess. “Sure, sorry again.”

“I’m not.”

Thranduil hasn’t even looked at you as he whispers loud enough into Bard’s ears that it’s definitely meant for yours as well. And that piece of shit has the gall to flutter his lashes, his mouth ghosting over the hickey right against Bard’s neck, the offending lips curled into a smirk you want to wipe off.

The sigh that leaves Bard is deep and deflates his whole chest, his shoulders following the drop of his arms. “Thran–”

“Oh, is that right?” On the contrary, you push your shoulders back and tip your head, sizing up the neighbor who, in your opinion, can move right back out again. No matter how pretty and unfairly sexy he is, that mouth of his ruins it. “Where do you pull out this fucking behavior? I just came here because you two have been going at it for hours and haven’t bothered to think about anyone else. I'm so sorry that –”

“Apology accepted,” Thranduil grins. His grey eyes are gleaming in amusement at your noticeable anger and he makes a high sound out of the back of his throat that sounds a lot like a giggle.

“Fucking hell, Thran!” Bard slaps his hand back, the flat of his palm meeting flexing muscles of Thranduil’s thigh, and lowly, sensually, Thranduil moans. This man is the walking definition of shamelessness.

That sound, the low vibration that usually comes through your walls, shoots to your core so fast that you sputter on the next breath. Hot curling heat makes itself comfortable in your lower stomach and you can’t help but blush – a feast for the unabashed man.

“If I had known we had such’ prude for a neighbor we would’ve found another place,” Thranduil says, most likely just to tease, because in the few minutes you’d known him, he’s definitely a teasing brat.

Ready to fight for yourself you shake your head and furrow your brows further. “I'm not prude –”

“It’s okay” A Cheshire cat-like smile disproves the false compassion, making it all sound much more patronizing. Thranduil has gotten under your skin, an itch you yearn to scratch however you can, “Nothing to be ashamed of.”

“No, but I’m not a prude!” You lick your teeth, stepping closer to their door as if that will make your point more convincing than the tight vintage shirt you’re wearing, with a fading Care Bear printed right over your tits.

In mocking, Thranduil rests his chin on Bard’s shoulder, holding your slowly wavering gaze. “Not everybody is comfortable with such an active sex life.”

With ease he smothers every bit of self-control you have left, thinning out your resolve to stand higher than him. You glower, all the thoughts of failed one-night stands pressing onto your tongue and loosening it faster than you can realize what you’re spitting in front of their feet – one statement powerful enough to change the entire atmosphere into another type of tension:

"I would be if I would get it!"

“Woah, let’s take it a notch back, shall we, hun?” Bard’s soothing voice could have been directed at each or either one of you two, and you notice how heavy your breathing has become, how much your hands twitch pressed against your breasts, and how Bard’s eyes flicker over where the shirt stretches tighter.

Interesting…

The hand on Thranduil’s thigh wanders higher, immediately capturing your attention and it's the tanned color of it against ivory white that gets you. The difference in softness and hardness, obvious callouses moving over smooth skin.

As subtly as possible, you shift your weight to squeeze your thighs together, heightening the throbbing evoked by every inch of skin in front of you.

Neither Thranduil nor Bard misses it. You can tell it by Bard’s eyes darkening, Thranduil’s smirk widening dangerously and their stance, Thranduil’s arms slinging across Bard’s taut stomach, fiddling with the silky band of his boxers, as well as Bard leaning more right – opening up the way into their dark apartment.

“What if –,” Bard starts, fingers digging into Thranduil’s thigh.

Ice-cold eyes that suddenly burn with hot interest look you over, stopping right where the hem of your shirt exposes your underwear, “You could join us?”

The offer shuts down your body as soon as your mind comprehends what Thranduil’s lowered, honeyed voice had presented to you and unfortunately, the inquiring “huh?” sounds much more like a whimper than originally planned. This question, this golden opportunity presented on a silver platter is fuel to the aching arousal pooling in your stomach and you can’t deny that, while lying in bed at night, listening to their intimacy, hadn’t evoked that dirty thought in you.

Flushes of heat spread from your pelvis. You lick over your teeth.

“What?” you laugh nervously.

“You’ve heard us right,” Thranduil’s hand stills over the v of Bard’s hips. That he doesn’t move is nearly as taunting as the constant toying, wandering, and scratching he had done till then.

“Pff as if –,” you stutter stubbornly, even if the pooling of wetness in your underwear betrays you, “as if.. as if I'm gonna waltz into the apartment of two strangers.. two men! You could do whatever to me!”

“Yeah, and you heard exactly what we could bring out of you”

Their moans and the bed slamming against the wall are pretty good arguments against a case already won in their favor, despite how you’re still trying to grasp for straws.

“My organs when you strip me to the bed and murder me silently?”

“Jeez, you have an imagination woman. Is the stick this far up your ass that –”

“Babe!” Bard’s elbow lands in Thranduil’s side, warningly and soft just like his voice.

“No, let him finish” you glare at Thranduil, “I’d like to know what he thinks about presumed stick in my arse and its results.”

“I think you are prude and underfucked, jealous and so stripped up tightly you won't admit that a good fuck – and honey, I’ll deliver nothing less – would loosen you up,” Thranduil finishes his speech with a tip of his head forward, daring you to talk back and gosh, you wish you had some comeback, anything to prove him wrong, however, the wetness that sticks syrupy between your legs strikes out all other thoughts except:

You want them. You want both of these men.

“So—so what?” you retort, knowing they're right, a pout forming on your lips and a persistent crease of defiance. “That's such a testosterone-driven answer; typical man, thinking their cocks are the miracle cure to a woman’s dry spell.”

Even Bard tuts now, his soft eyes falling to your underwear. “You sure? Hun, you can whine all ‘bout but I can see your cute little panties being all wet – oh come on, don’t blush, I see them alright?” And sure, the material may cling to your cunt and the breeze in the hallway coming from an open window enhances that feeling, but– “Darlin’,” Bard chuckles, “Stop thinking, ‘s not that hard to accept you want it. Come on in, let Thranduil apologize sincerely for his hissy fit.”

You huff.

Thranduil breathes a kiss toward you, pink lips forming a cute heart, and you only think: “Fuck it.”

Thranduil’s mouth, as he proves a few minutes later, is quite good at apologizing, fantastic even.

You’re spread on your back across their bed – ironically you find out it’s directly above yours –, legs opened up by his large hands, the metal of his rings biting ice-cold into the heated flesh as he kneads his fingers into your thighs and teases you most annoyingly by kissing all around your clit. His arms are wrapped around you in a way that's confining you to lie there and take whatever he decides to give you, or not in some moments.

“Pretty girl –,” Thranduil murmurs into the sensitive and practically vibrating skin, “Should’ve known there’s something sweet about that sour tongue.” His tongue is just as bitter, licking straight through your folds, gathering the absurd amount of wetness and ending shortly before your clit to press a wide opened mouth kiss into you.

Your hips buck upward in desperation and at the same time exhilaration and Thranduil’s biceps flex to pin you down again; giving you no wiggle room.

“Better lie still,” Bard whispers and tilts your head back by the hand he wraps loosely around your throat. It’s not hard enough to blur your vision, but just hard enough to remind you of the power he holds over you. His fingertips close in together, putting the right amount of pressure on your windpipe for you to gasp for air; then he pounces in and takes over your lips in a heated kiss.

Your behavior, because you do in fact give it your best to stop your legs from crushing the head between your legs, is rewarded by Thranduil with the assistance of his tongue finally flicking over your swollen clit, first playfully then in earnest. He closes his lips around the bundle of nerves, grazing his teeth slightly over it and your head would’ve fallen back if it isn’t for the hand holding you to Bard. “Oh fuck,” you whine and grasp down.

The second you burrow your hands into Thranduil’s hair, twirling some strands around your fingers for a better hold, he moans into you. Hot air meets the wetness of your pussy and the tips of your nails dig slightly into his hair roots. It turns him on more, that you grind yourself desperately against his face, your hands weaved into his hair to get back control and Thranduil’s tongue swipes over your pussy, diving in to plunge the tip into your entrance.

“That’s it,” he gasps, sending the words straight through you while he fucks his tongue back into you a few times. Then he switches back to sucking on your clit and doesn’t stop; no matter how your thighs shook and fought to shut close, he stayed on his task of taking you completely into his mouth and rolling his tongue in figure-eights, circling in closer and closer.

The sounds of Thranduil eating you out are pornographic, slickness from your spit and wetness, his ever-constant breathing and relentless swirls through your pussy that have your back in a wonderful arch. Bard’s lips swallow most of your whimpers up, and when he starts to lick his tongue against yours, teeth playfully tugging on your lower lip, you feel the stars before you see them.

It starts up fast, heading toward you at full speed and you choke out your orgasm in a broken wail, fingers tightening in Thranduil’s hair. When he doesn’t stop and stimulation becomes overstimulation, your eyes flutter to escape the nearly drunken stare of his gray eyes hidden under long lashes and finally, he slows down. Bard too, leaves your lips in one last, dragged-out kiss that you want to chase after; his mouth is too sweet and gentle, a perfect harmony of caring and hunger.

“All attitude until the attitude drips down her legs and messes up our bedsheets,” Thranduil laughs huskily and wipes the back of his hand over his glistening lips and chin. He puckers his mouth, a wide grin on his face as he crawls up to you. “Now, how do you want this?”

Breathless, you look up to Thranduil and Bard, the latter already moving to shed himself of his boxers. When you see what Bard packs under the tight black underwear a wheezing laugh escapes your throat.

“Yeah,” you scoff at his arched eyebrow, “I would be fucking that multiple times as well.”

His cock stands heavy against his stomach, thick and bobbing, white precum rolling down the veins. “Like what you see?” Bard teases, one hand wrapped around himself, leisurely stroking up and down. “I’ll let you have a taste if you’re good.”

A large palm spreads over your abdomen and Thranduil slides two fingers down to pinch your still sensitive clit so you yelp and scowl at him. “You won’t be getting any of that tonight,” his voice sounds threateningly possessive, and at the sight of his much taller body towering over yours and that look in his eyes, your stomach flips. “Don’t think I’ll let you hop on there after you disturbed us. Tonight –,” Again, that word that emphasized like he did promises more nights after this, “tonight he’s mine.” The last bit he whispers into your ear, the soft locks of his hair brushing your still-covered chest.

All that Thranduil had time to undress you for, had been your underwear and those had landed ripped into two somewhere in the darkness of their bedroom. This meant you would have to borrow some of theirs or rush downstairs with your cunt on display and after this should be over, you have no idea if you would even be able to walk.

Thranduil, by the feeling of his bulge pressing into your stomach, isn’t small either. That cockiness had to have a source somewhere and they don’t call it that for no reason.

Bard’s laughter interrupts the staring contest you two have going on, otherwise you’re not sure how long it would’ve gotten on or who would’ve quit first; not you, he could poke his cock into you however he wants. The other man walks around the bed, heading to the end where Thranduil’s long legs hang off and by the sudden twitch in the body crowding yours into the mattress and the cry Thranduil lets out, you strongly think there has been a tickling involved.

You laugh as well, the sound dying swiftly when Thranduil turns back to you and grinds his hips into you. All that comes out then, is a straggled whine.

“Fucking asshole,” you grumble and pull on his hair again, forcing his head down for you to kiss his wet lips.

Able to taste yourself on his tongue, you greedily open your mouth further, and Thranduil wastes no second to dominate. He takes over the kiss, distracting you just enough that you don’t notice Bard taking off Thranduil’s boxers until the cock against your stomach twitches at a particular noise out of the back of your throat and precum dribbles onto your skin.

“Someone’s eager,” you tease.

Thranduil promptly bites you in return. “Says the slut moaning under me,” he retorts, scratching his canines across your neck. “Now, take that skimpy shirt off or I’ll rip it like that sad excuse of underwear.”

You roll your eyes but follow his demand, pulling the tight shirt off and flinging it away. Free for him to touch, Thranduil’s fingers of one hand find your right tit, and, putting the rock-hard pebble in between them, he steals the air out of your lungs pulling and twisting your nipples. “At least, oh fuck you –!”

Your attempt to speak gets drowned out by a cry of need and suddenly, you’re getting crushed into the mattress by Thranduil’s heavy weight, his fingers still tight around your nipple and his mouth close to your ear. His ass is the only thing not forcing you down.

Bard, who has been silently chuckling and observing until now, decided the time’s right to move this forward and over the head of blonde hair pushing itself into the crook of your neck, panting hotly and frustrated, you see Bard circling his rim with two fingers.

“So that’s what shuts you up,” you whisper for Thranduil to hear.

He lifts his head slightly, though the angry eyebrows fall quickly at another moan.

Behind Thranduil, illuminated by the moonlight outside, Bard looks positively majestic and dominating, his shoulder-length hair free from the ponytail, falling ruffled into his face as he inhales and forcefully spits down to where his fingers are slowly pushing further into the ass presented to him.

“That’s good, Darlin’,” he praises and Thranduil keens, eyes full of hearts, “Push back a bit, makin’ it easy for me, aren’t you? Go on, sweetheart.” At your gasp – you’re not unaffected by the praise, not at all and if you weren’t coming down from a sensational orgasm that had your clit in flames.. – Bard looks up and winks at you. “Go on. Wonderful, you’re just the best. Look at you, beautiful.” He’s obviously talking to Thranduil but you follow his command despite it; the aura around Bard makes it impossible to do anything less than obey.

Lying there under these two men, feeling their weight, hearing their moans and the rasps of their deep voices, and being clouded in the smell of sweat, cum, and body odors mixing, is fulfilling fantasies you hadn’t been creative enough to think up.

“Oh – Bard, can you – hah, yes, there –” Thranduil arches into the touch catlike, his back up in the air and the curve of his spine glistening, now that a few drops of sweat are decorating the skin, marked in pink trails of fingernails of a hand that twists slightly and adds another finger.

Your chest is full of blonde hair, platinum after another inspection, strands perfect to comb your hands through. Thranduil’s lashes flutter beautifully. His lips open up, puffing out airy breaths, pink plush lips coated in spit after he runs his tongue over them.

Biting down a comment of how he had been right about the ‘shutting up and dicking down’, you act without thinking. The kiss is much slower and sensual than the last, maybe to distract Thranduil from that pain/pleasure that Bard afflicts on him, opening him up four fingers at one time. Soon though, the grind of Thranduil’s hips becomes too much to endure, he already left a wet trail of precum all over you and while you’re still gasping into his mouth, you blindly reach between your bodies.

“Goddamit,” you grunt, angling your hips slightly, “You’re no help at all.”

“What?” Thranduil groans and everything vibrates, “I’m the one having four fingers up my arse, can’t you just wait a fucking second?”

“Mhm, no.”

“You’re such a brat,” he leans down, hair fanning over you and trapping you in a bubble where it’s just you, his panting breath and the fire in his eyes; he’s gorgeous. “I’m sorry but –”

“Apology accepted,” you cut him off, smiling sweetly.

A second later you swear you’re being ripped apart; immediately tears spring into your eyes, hiding Thranduil’s satisfied smirk behind a watery curtain as he pushes his cock in further, stretching you past known limits. The only proof that you’re still breathing is the pitchy moan, the whine that follows the stretch of inch after inch.

“Fuuck–”

It’s going on forever. The rocking of Thranduil’s hips. The slow drill of his cock pushing its way through you, carving a spot into your clenching walls. Surely it’ll come out of your throat.

You blink fast, regain your vision, and look down.

“Oh my fucking god,” you slap a hand against Thranduil’s shoulder, trying to get a grip on reality, “How are you this big?”

“He’s a mouthful,” Bard pitches in, grinning, and finally reaches a point where he has prepared Thranduil enough. He spits again; once into his hand, which he immediately closes around his cock again, and once between the globes of Thranduil’s ass, watching it trail down. Bard gathers some of Thranduil’s long hair to gently push it over his side. “Are you ready, my love?” he bows down for a soft kiss to the protruding bones of Thranduil’s arched spine.

Ironically, that's what finally gets you and Thranduil on the same page.

A page that was full of unintelligible curses, punctuated by groans and underlined by hands grabbing for each other.

Your hand digs itself into Thranduil’s back as he finally bottoms out, buried so deep you can feel him in the back of your throat – or that’s the pressure from that massive cock bullying your insides – and he stills, hipbones digging into you as well as if he hasn’t already marked you up enough with his girth.

Bard reaches forward, thus pushing in faster than Thranduil expects it and your fingers intertwine over the blonde's back. Electricity zips through you, starting from your toes pressing into the sheets, up your shaking thighs to your clenching cunt, and higher up your spine into your head.

Thranduil, fully sandwiched between you, can do nothing except follow the unforgivable rhythm Bard sets.

The bed creaks as he rocks into you, just when Bard pushes in. The start is messy, lots of “There–” and “Fuck, slower–” until they change it up.

Thranduil’s breathing is ragged and erratic as he moves against you, his hips pistoning against yours in a steady, firm rhythm. His arms hold you in place, his body covering you completely, lips moving along your neck and shoulder. You, being just on the receiving end, take everything he gives.

“Finally out of complaints, aren’t you?” he angles his hips to thrust harder. “A – ahh – all you needed was a good cock to shut you up.”

You almost gag on a whine, proving him just right. “No– so-ohh – not true.”

A fleeing look to Bard and you’re silently begging. For what you don’t know. Maybe his support. Maybe to fuck Thranduil hard enough he swallows his words.

“Oh, Thranduil,” Bard starts and you truly think he’ll be on your side, “If she’s still trying to mouth back you’re doing something – fuck – wrong!”

Thranduil laughs, fucking laughs. Each snap of his hips fills the room with shameless sounds, and as painful as it is to admit, his low baritone causes your pussy to clench tighter, dripping arousal. The fire they started burns higher when he wedges one hand down between your legs, somehow landing on your clit perfectly despite the brutal pace of his and Bard’s thrust.

“You should’ve come up the first day you heard us,” Thranduil spits out, “Could’ve had this cock making you happy every night. You needed this, right? Someone, to fuck you stupid? Did you lie awake all night and listened to Bard fucking me, fiddling with yourself as if your dumb little fingers could ever come close to this?” His middle finger demonstratingly flicks your clit up.

“Please, oh– please, please,” you sob, the messy circles he’s rubbing with his thumb dumbing you down to a mumbling mess. Pleasure dances in every vein, lights up nerve endings in white-hot fire.

"Gosh, I think I’m feeling that stick I had been talking about,” Thranduil rasps, pressing his palm against your lower stomach, bringing out another wail, “Oh wait no, that's just me giving you exactly what you needed."

You’re wringing out his cock, every stroke sends him deeper and deeper, crushing your g-spot, urged on by the slaps of Bard’s balls. He’s taking it slower, staying against Thranduil’s prostate and spreading his hands in the long hair to control when his boyfriend slams into you.

“C’mon, honey. Be good and come on Thran’s cock, won’t you? He’s so sorry for his bratty behavior but as you can see –” Bard sends his hand down swiftly, shocking you as his palm lands flat on Thranduil’s right cheek with a loud ‘smack’; a scream of pleasure and Bard pats the already reddening skin, “he’s insatiable.”

That’s what does it for you, in the end.

Already spiraling toward the edge with Thranduil’s pace and his fingers slipping, rubbing, flicking in all directions, it’s the calmness in Bard that sends you over. The relaxed hold in Thranduil’s hair, how he thrones above you, patiently waiting for his turn because he’s already fucked Thranduil twice tonight – what are another few minutes of watching you slurring their names?

If Thranduil’s cock broke you in half, the orgasm that spikes through you angrily and into every cell splinters whatever’s there to shred. It’s blinding, hot and cold, a wildfire and ice bath. It’s the strongest you’ve cum in a while and your brain shuts down.

Thranduil groans as you clench around him, but, sensing – or seeing it in your fucked out expression – that you can’t take anymore, he drags his cock out of you.

Half conscious your head drops to the side as you try to catch a breath that isn’t sweat and hair. Through blurred eyes, you have a front-row seat to the change in Bard. He swiftly lifts his head once, shaking back his hair and exposing the long column of his throat and the muscles that flex in his shoulder, before he’s sprawled atop Thranduil, grabbing the red and heavy cock wet with your cum and fucks him.

Raw and unapologetic.

Fingers pull on Thranduil’s hair, forcing his head back into his neck and Thranduil groans, arching his back closer to Bard. It’s a glorious sight, their hips meeting again and again, Bard’s hand wrapped around Thranduil’s cock, pulling and jacking him off in that same rhythm that Thranduil had rubbed you earlier.

Bard’s panting as well now, grinding more than thrusting and watches himself disappear inside Thranduil. “You feel so good, Thran–” he mumbles, “one more time for me, alrigh’ gorgeous? You did perfectly tonight, taking me three times.”

The praise continues to rain, hailing down like the short and precise twitches of Bard’s hips and when Thranduil hits the bed in a low moan of Bard’s name, coating the bedsheets underneath him white, Bard follows shortly after; buried deep inside his boyfriend.

For a while, the room is filled with efforts to catch your breath. Sweat clings to your body like a second skin, glistening on Thranduil and Bard lying close to each other next to you as well.

“Oh my god,” you whisper, “the neighbors are gonna hate us.”

#📁files: thranduil fanfics #thranduil fanfic #thranduil smut #thranduil fic #thranduil fanfiction #thranduil x you #thranduil x reader #bard the bowman fanfic #bard the bowman smut #bard bowman smut #barduil fanfiction #barduil smut #barduil x reader #bard x reader #bard x thranduil #the hobbit smut #the hobbit x reader #the hobbit fanfiction

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wittymumbledon · 14 days ago

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With how much gravity falls stuff I’ve been working on lately it’s taken me a while to get around to finishing this (long enough for me to nearly finish reading over the first “season” for the third time in a row) but here it is!! A double-page spread dedicated to @ckret2’s golden-haired menace, because I wanted NEEDED to show my appreciation for this fucking amazing AU ✨

Figuring out how to translate Goldie into my style was really fun--I tried to stay true to the original, but kinda subconsciously also added elements from my own Bill which I think is neat (namely the angular smile and triangular brows). I dunno why I gave him That One Curl (TM) but once I noticed it I tried to carry it through all the pics--the hair as a whole was really fun, especially messing around with the textures when it was--well, say, messy.

I redrew some of my fav frames/story moments (plus a couple extras: the cleaning one is inspired by when i was cleaning irl, and realized that Goldie made me feel a lot less dysphoric about wearing leggings and tank tops 'round the house. Thus - in tribute to the irony - Bill gets my leggings fdfhjdfhdf)

but that barely even scratches the surface of just the pure, gloriously hilarious chaos that this beast has to offer-- not to mention the simple fact that it is just. REALLY well written: the attention to details from the books, the comics, and the show itself; the way each character is visibly flawed in some way, be it with their morals, or their actions, or the soundness of their morals; the way each chapter healthily mixes random show-like chaos with genuinely useful info that later BEAUTIFULLY Chekov Gun's itself right back into the culmination of each saga -- it all feels so aware and true to canon and so, so, SO beautifully ALIVE. Dare I say it is one of my absolute favourite fanworks that I've ever read.

Speaking of which - if you’ll excuse me - I have some chapters to catch up on. Like I said - I’ve specifically held off reading the latest ones so that i’d finish the fanart faster and so that i’d have an excuse to make more. looking at you - bill’s abomikini /hj

If you've made it through my lil essay there I appreciate it so much <3

Bonus: I wove a lil bracelet inspired by the one Mabel made for Bill✨

Didn’t have the right colours of embroidery thread on hand so I used yarn instead, but that actually ended up working perfectly with the beads I had (just plain ol' blue ones, cause I wasn’t sure if using nazar beads would have been culturally insensitive or not - nor did I have any nazar beads that I could have used in the first place - but hey! these ones are nice and shiny and the colour works well imo)

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hayakawalove · 9 months ago

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A Little Pain Never Hurt Nobody

Summary: Life was dull lately. You needed something to jump start you. You figure you may as well check out the local sex club, cause why not? You meet "professional" dom Suguru and he shows you a whole new world of pain and pleasure. You're in for a ride.

A/N: This is. Um. Yeah.

I purposefully didn't make it too extreme as this is your first time engaging in anything like this. I hope you enjoy.

P.S I've never been to a sex club so excuse me if this is completely wrong

CW: Smut, Masochism, Sadism, Impact Play, Flogging, Dacryphilia, Oral Sex, Rough Oral Sex, Cunnilingus, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Spanking, Slapping, Face Slapping, Rough Sex, Aftercare, Sex Club, Top Getou Suguru, Alcohol, Choking, Dominance, Submission, Humiliation, Degradation, Biting, Dirty Talk, Name-Calling, Creampie, Praise Kink, Pain, AFAB Reader, Female Reader

W/C: 7,232

Credit to @benkeibear for the divider

Why were you doing this again? To be honest, you didn’t really know the answer yourself. Everything had just been so boring lately. You needed something to spice up your life. That’s what you told yourself at least, when you were standing in front of the club with blacked out windows.

It was a sex club specifically. It had always piqued your interest, but you were never crazy enough to actually check it out.

Not until now, apparently.

You wrap your trembling hand around the door handle, pulling it open to feel a blast of warm air. At least it was better than staying outside in the freezing temperature.

I’ll just check it out, I won’t stay for long. You told yourself.

When you entered you were greeted by a woman standing at a desk. She wore a bright white smile and a black choker.

“Welcome! ID please.”

“Oh, right.”

You fish in your purse to grab your ID to show to her. Were kids really dumb enough to try to sneak into this place? Scratch that, you remember being young and stupid.

“Have a good time!” She bids you, passing your ID back.

You give a nervous smile before walking further in, a blast of stimulation coming at you from all angles.

The lights were dim, but you noticed colorful shapes being projected around the room, dancing. In tandem with the lights, there were women and men on platforms moving their bodies to the rhythm of the music. And the music, it wasn’t as loud as a normal club, but it still just added to everything. It was almost too much.

You walk in, the exciting energy drawing you in further. People were in various stages of undress, but no one seemed bothered by the nudity.

A man passes you, his neck collared and leashed as he follows a woman in high heels. He smiles at you before the girl tugs the leash, pulling him further.

Okay, that’s new.

You hear a shrill sound, a woman screaming.

Your head whips to the direction of the noise, fear briefly settling in your veins before you remember where you are.

The sight that greets you confuses you.

A woman was strapped to a metallic x, her body completely nude baring her ass for the small crowd to see. Her bottom was tinged bright red. If you looked close enough, you thought you could see her skin begin to split open.

A man stood behind her, a crop held tightly in his hand. His eyes flicked to her face before back down, slamming the crop against her again.

She let out a wail causing you to jump. It looked like it hurt so bad.

And that excited you.

The man runs the crop over her skin, her sobs echoing as he teased her tender flesh. Long black hair cascaded down his back, thin eyes scrutinizing her.

Just as you were admiring his beauty, you noticed his gaze settle on you. You wanted to look away, but you just couldn’t. Not when his demanding authority had captured you.

The moment was over as soon as it started, and his attention was back to the woman. You force yourself to look away and head to the bar, suddenly feeling light headed.

You stand next to the shiny counter and the bartender struts up to you.

“What can I get you?”

“Just water.” You croak out, your throat feeling dry.

He turns around and passes you a bottle of water, free of charge, before attending to a different customer.

The cool liquid slides down your throat while you watch the scenes before you. The performance was seemingly over as the masses of people surrounding it had dispersed. Your gaze flickers across the dancers in front of you.

“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?”

“Yes they,” you start, turning towards the source of the voice.

The man from earlier stood next to you, eyes on the dancers.

“Are.” You finish.

He was even more stunning up close. His hair was like satin, flowing down his back. Dark golden eyes, and he was tall.

He turns his head to you and smiles, seeing the way you admire him.

“You’re new here.” He strikes up a conversation.

You shuffle in place, looking down at your water bottle and back up.

“That obvious, huh?”

He gifts you a serene smile.

“I’ve never seen your face before, and you weren’t as calloused to the play scene.”

You fumble with the bottle, the sound of it crinkling filling the space.

“Don’t be embarrassed, everyone needs to start somewhere.” He comforts you.

One look at how genuine he seemed soothed your nerves. Earlier he exuded power, quiet dominance leaking from his pores. But now he seemed like a regular guy.

“I suppose you’re right.” You finish the water bottle and set it beside you.

“So what brings you here?”

“I was bored.”

He lets out a hearty chuckle at your response, his eyes closing.

“You were bored so you decided to go to a sex club for the first time?”

Heat floods through your cheeks, you were unsure if he was teasing you or not.

“I mean I’ve always been interested, just never got around to it.”

Another scene was unfolding, drawing most of the people away from you as they gathered to observe it. You almost thought you were going to have more breathing room that way, but somehow it was even more stifling. All of this man’s attention was on you, and there was no one around you to dull it out.

“What do you think so far?”

You played with your opinions in your head. It was strange, but you liked it. Everyone seemed happy here, and there were no aspects of a normal club that weighed it down.

“I like it. It’s a bit more than I expected, but it’s exciting.”

He seems satisfied with your answer. He flags down the bartender and orders a whiskey, before turning his attention back to you.

“And what did you think of the scene?”

The question jolts you. The air around it felt different than his first question. It almost felt like he was asking you to rate him.

“I-it was good. I liked it a lot actually.”

The air shifted around you, you were beginning to feel that commanding presence of his again.

“I’m glad.”

His voice runs a shiver up your spine and you have to will yourself to contain it.

His drink arrives and you watch as he brings his mouth to the rim, a small sip of brown liquid kissing his lips.

“Why did you start coming here?” You can’t help but ask.

The man turns to you with a smile.

“I like making people happy, and it’s something I enjoy.”

You press him further and he reveals more.

“People feel much more open here, like they don’t have to hide their true selves. It’s refreshing. I like seeing people’s genuine smiles.”

The answer simmers in your brain. You don’t know what you were expecting, but it wasn’t that. What a kind man. It was almost unbelievable he was the same one hitting the woman earlier.

“I’ve actually always wanted to do something like that.”

He sets his glass down and cocks a brow at you.

“From your scene, I mean.”

He turns his full attention to you. You piqued his interest.

“Why haven’t you?”

“I just didn’t know where to start. It’s kind of a bit scary.”

He seems to be contemplating something, eyes looking up. You watch as his finger taps the glass.

“I could always help, if you’re still interested.” He offers, swirling the amber liquid before tossing his head back, taking another swig.

It feels like gravel is in your throat now, settled somewhere between your voice box and tongue. The mushy pink muscle refuses to cooperate inside your mouth.

“It doesn’t have to be me of course. I can always see if someone else here would help if you would prefer that. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

“N-no! I mean yes! That would be great, trying it with you, I mean.” You rush out, an overwhelming amount of heat rushing to your cheeks.

You think you see something akin to a smirk spark over his features before he nurses the reaction back down to something more neutral.

“Great.”

“So, are you like a professional or something?” You fiddle with your hair.

“More or less.”

He stands up and leans over the bar, rummaging around until he finds what he’s looking for. Orange post it notes and a pen.

You study his face while he looks down, scribbling his number onto the paper. His penmanship is surprisingly neat, something you weren’t used to seeing from men. Then again, something told you he wasn’t like most men.

“Here, text me if you decide you’re still interested. We can set something up and discuss hard and soft limits, and also share our results as we both should get tested first.”

You grip the paper once he hands it to you, eyes dancing across the conglomerate of numbers.

“You don’t have like, a business card or something?”

He lets out a chuckle, leaning against his chin as he watches you.

“I’m not that professional. I have a full time job and a life outside of this, it’s just something I do for fun. Although, I do have lots of experience, probably more than anyone else here.”

You clear your throat and look back down at the note. At the top, he wrote his name.

“Suguru.” You taste the sound of his name, letting the syllables fall from your lips.

“That would be me.” He says with a smile. “What would your name be?”

You tell him your name and try to not run away when you hear him repeat it back to you. Your name had never sounded so good before, you were sure of it.

“Alright, well if you decide you want to go forward just text me. We’ll get something figured out.” He drinks the rest of his whiskey, sliding a couple of dollar bills down before standing up.

You wave goodbye, your skin buzzing off the high from talking to him. He was such a good looking guy, and he seemed so kind. Was this real? Was he really going to help you experience something new?

There was only one way to find out.

~~~

You and Suguru had been texting for several days ironing everything out. He asked you what you were interested in trying, and it took you longer than you were willing to admit to come up with a list.

It was partly because you had no idea what you wanted to try. How could you pick? The other part of it was that it felt embarrassing sending him the list. Sure you met him at a sex club, and he offered to help, but it almost felt too vulnerable. You hadn’t even shared these fantasies with some of your boyfriends. Maybe that was why you agreed to let him help you. There was no personal connection, no fear of rejection.

After many hours, you were able to create a list.

Impact play

Choking

Hair pulling

Biting

Sensory play

It wasn’t the most extreme list. You were quite sure he had seen and done much worse, but you were still sort of scared. He complimented it once you sent it, and let you know to start thinking of safe words. You had heard of the idea before, so you knew you would have to pick them.

Along with the list, he also told you to get tested for any STDs, not that he didn't trust you he told you, but it was more procedure. He told you he was going to get checked as well.

The day came where you were to meet Suguru once more at the atmospheric spot. He told you to bring a change of comfy clothes, drink lots of water, and come on a full stomach. Having instructions to follow before sex felt weird in a way. It almost felt as though the scene had started before you arrived.

You checked yourself out one last time in the mirror in your bedroom. You wore a short black dress, complimenting all of your favorite parts of your body. Telling yourself you wore it only for you, but you secretly hoped Suguru would be pleased when he saw it.

You didn't know whether or not to be let down when his eyes didn’t linger over your body when you arrived. You found him talking with a couple of people, ones you recognized. It was the man on a leash and his owner. The man stood patiently behind her while she spoke with Suguru, a friendly demeanor between the two.

When he saw you, his eyes glanced down at your outfit then back up, excusing himself from the conversation. He rested his hand against your lower back, guiding you towards a long row of doors.

“Are we not doing it out in the main area?” You ask.

He glances at you with a smile before opening a door, a big room inside.

“No, it’s your first time. I wouldn’t make you do that. Unless, of course, you want to do it in front of everyone.” The lilt in his voice makes your hair stand on edge.

“N-no. Here is much better.”

He closes the door behind you, walking over to a chair. On it lies a piece of paper. He lifts it up and brings it over to you. It was his test results, all clean. You dig into your purse to bring your results out too and hand them over to him.

“Good. Are you on birth control?” He asks, eyes looking over the sheet.

You straighten up and open your mouth, nerves beginning to settle over you.

“Yes.”

“Okay.” Suguru sets the paper aside. “Oh actually, I wanted to talk about something on your list. We won’t be able to do the typical choking you’re probably thinking of. Too much risk involved so it’s not allowed in clubs like this. I’m sorry.”

You feel disappointment in your chest but you nod in agreement.

“That makes sense, okay.”

“Have you put any thought into the safe word? Most people use red, yellow, and green. Red for stop, yellow for slow down, and green for all good.” He suggests.

“I’ll do those then, if that’s alright.” You fidget with your fingers, digging into the side of your dress.

He smiles at you before looking down at the bag you brought.

“Oh! These are the change of clothes you asked me to bring. I also had lots of water and just ate.”

“Good girl.” He purrs, the sound of it instantly turning your face hot.

Suguru peers at you and smiles to himself once he notices your reaction.

“Oh, you’re gonna be fun.” He says, more to himself than you.

You dart your eyes away, finding it hard to look at him. So instead, you study the room you’re in. There was a floor length mirror, a large bed, and various sex tools on the wall. The room itself looked comfortable, if not for the daunting things that were meant to cause pain.

“So how do we um, you know, start this I guess? I’ve never done it before-“ you find yourself rambling.

Suguru closes the distance between the two of you, making you gasp out. His finger slides under your chin tilting your head up.

“Just relax, let me take care of it princess.”

His lips are on yours. They felt plush, molding to yours while his tongue slots in your mouth. You grasp his shirt for support. All oxygen had exited your body the second you felt him press up against you.

It’s not that you were against the idea, it was far from it actually, but you didn’t expect it to happen so fast.

Suguru’s large hand spans across your cheek, long fingers pressed into your skin. He walks you backwards until you hit a wall, and it takes everything in you to continue standing on your own. His tongue grazes against yours, drawing out a soft moan from you.

“How cute.” Suguru pulls away to speak, instead choosing to place kisses down your neck.

“A-ah!” You dig your fingers into his shoulder, feeling his teeth graze against your sensitive flesh.

He doesn’t bite down like you expected. Instead, he decides to continue sliding his tongue down your neck, occasionally bumping his teeth against your throat. It was as if he was reminding you that he could bite, but he wasn’t going to, not yet at least.

One thing you should know about Suguru is that he enjoyed playing with his food first.

Suguru pulls back and looks down at you. Your eyes were glazed over, a mix of both your salivas coating your lips.

“Wore this for me, huh?” He asks, fingers trailing down your dress.

The way he stood over you commanded dominance. You had never experienced such a thing before. But in that moment you knew you would do anything he asked.

“Yes.” Your voice trembles.

Suguru hums while he further analyzes you. He didn’t know where to start. You gave him a good list, but he also didn’t want to scare you or hurt you, at least not in a bad way.

“You’re so kind to wear this baby, but I’m gonna need you to take it off now.” His voice commands.

You pull off the dress, tossing it to the floor before looking up at him expectantly. He chuckles darkly, reaching a thumb up to drag over your lip. He swipes the saliva away, letting his finger slide down your chin, down your chest until he reaches your stomach. There was a predatory glint in his eyes, one that made your skin crawl. He grips your waist hard, turning you around.

“Turn around.” You follow what he says and face the wall.

Suguru stands back and admires your form as you follow his directions. He looks at your underwear, a lacy thong, before looking back up. Your body trembles beneath his gaze, the weight of those feline eyes searing into your back.

He steps back to grab a tool, one of many in his arsenal. It was a flogger, the handle of it fitting comfortably in his palm as he steps back closer to you.

“This is called a flogger. People use it as a whip. I’m going to strike you a couple times, and I want you to tell me how it feels.”

“O-okay.”

He desperately wants to correct you on your manners, the urge tickling the back of his throat. He much would have preferred a “yes sir”. But this is your first time, so he refrains. If you visit again though, he won’t be so lenient.

Suguru raises his hand, brandishing the flogger, before bringing it back down against your ass. The feeling jolts you, your body jumping up in response. It didn’t hurt per se, but you could definitely feel it. He must’ve been holding back, and that fact irked you a bit.

“How was that?” His voice remains steady.

“It was okay.” If only you could keep your voice as steady as his.

He hums in response before bringing the whip back down on your other cheek. This time was much harder, sending a shock of pain across your skin. The pain traveled straight to your pussy where you feel yourself clench around nothing, the act somehow more painful than the whip.

“Better?” He asks, flicking his eyes up to look at your head.

Your head was turned sideways, your lip caught between your teeth. You wanted to try things like this, always intrigued by the idea of pain during sex. But you had no idea it would feel this good.

“Better, feels good.” You admit, inhibition slowly falling.

Suguru strikes you again, this time even harder than the last. Heat spreads across your ass, the action making you moan out. Pure ecstasy. Your arms tremble as you keep yourself against the wall.

Your eyes dart to the side to catch a glimpse as best as you can of the man. He looks nothing short of a god behind you, tall and unwavering. His raven locks flow down his shoulders, keen eyes focused on your figure.

Suguru sets the flogger down before pulling a hairband out, dragging his fingers through his hair as he gathers it all into a bun. Can’t have any hair getting in the way of his vision, after all.

He picks the flogger back up and drags it across your backside, sending goosebumps across your skin.

“Keep your face forward.” There was that commanding voice again.

You snap your head forward once more, eyes boring into the wall in front of you. Anticipation settles in your veins, heart racing at the idea of him hitting you again.

“I'm going to keep going, and I want you to count after every single one.”

“What happens if I lose count?”

“Don’t.”

He strikes you once more, a sob racking your body. A temporary moment of bliss settles over your bones before you remember what he told you to do.

“One.”

“That’s a good girl.”

Again. Again. Again.

Each strike was more painful than the last. Every time he made contact with your skin, you jumped forward and groaned out.

He continues bringing the flogger down on your ass, each time making you cry out. Your voice shaky each time you counted. Tears were blearing your eyes from the pain, from the pleasure. You find it hard to stay standing up, the room spinning around you and your knees almost buckling underneath you.

Suguru keeps his eyes trained on your ass, noticing the beginnings of marks start to form. It pleased him greatly to see your skin react, the mere sight causing his slacks to tighten.

“F-f-f-fifty!” You sob.

Suguru sets the flogger down and spins you around, almost groaning from the sight of your tear stricken face.

“Did so good princess. What’s your color?” He asks, dragging his hands up your shoulders, rubbing your skin soothingly.

It was almost hard to believe those hands were the same ones causing you so much pain.

“Green, green.” You look up desperately at him, needing to know what else he had in store for you.

He brings a hand up, the back of his forefinger swiping beneath your lash line under both sides. He watches the way your tears coat his skin, and it takes everything in him not to bring his finger up to his mouth to lick off the salty remenents of the calamity he caused.

“Good.” He says.

He didn’t even break a sweat, meanwhile your chest was heaving like you ran a marathon. A part of you was desperate to see him at his worst, see what he looked like when he really went all in.

“Get on your knees.” His voice was soft but demanding.

You sink to your knees and look up, waiting for more instructions. He smoothed a hand over your head before bringing you closer.

“You know what to do from here. Unless, that pretty brain of yours is already too far gone.”

You look down at the hard bulge in front of you. His pants were hardly doing anything, you could see the outline of it all. Your hands reach up and fumble before finally successfully dragging his pants and underwear down, his cock jumping out.

You feel drool pile up behind your lips, your tongue feeling too heavy in your mouth. You had been with guys before, but you were sure no one compared to him.

His angry tip stands at attention while you bring your lips down, popping his cock in your mouth. It felt somehow larger in your mouth than it looked, and it didn’t look small. It fills you to the brim, your cunt throbbing as his heavy cock rests against your tongue. Suguru hisses at the feeling of your wet mouth engulfing him. He was sensitive and needy. Hearing your cries got him more riled up than he had led on.

Your tongue slides around his cock while you take more into your mouth. His cock slides down your throat, oxygen slowly depleting from your lungs. Suguru keeps his hands to his sides, merely observing you. It felt like you were putting on a show for him.

Spit begins to flow freely from your lips, dripping from the corners of your mouth while you move your head back and forth along his cock. There was a fire underneath you, the raw flesh of your ass clawing at you.

You couldn’t focus on that though, there was only him.

“Oh right, you said you wanted to try choking right?” He begins.

You look up at him, your eyes starting to water again.

“Take all of it in and hold it.” He demands. “You can manage that, can’t you pretty baby?”

You squeeze your eyes shut while you slide down further, his pubic bone meeting your nose. You couldn’t breathe at all, your body quickly setting off alarms to get you to back off. But he gave you an order, and you intended on listening to it.

You couldn’t breathe. You needed to breathe. But, you didn’t want to. The feeling of lightheadedness made your clit throb. Knowing that his cock was in control of whether or not you deserved oxygen.

Suguru chuckles softly and leans his head back, closing his eyes. He could feel the way your throat clenched around him, feel your lips adjust around him.

After what felt like an eternity he finally looked back down at you. Something akin to pride laces his features.

“Release.” With that, you tear your head away, gasping as air fills you once more.

Long strings of saliva connects you to his cock, lewd in a way that almost made you flustered.

“Continue.”

You slide his cock back into your mouth once you feel able. You’re more faster the second time around, your throat having already been melded into the shape of his cock. His brows furrow while he watches you, groans escaping his mouth.

You decide you could do this forever. Nothing else mattered when you were pleasing him, you would continue to do so if he let you.

However, he had other plans.

“That’s it.” He says, pulling his cock from you.

You go to wipe the tears and spit from your face but he grabs your wrist before you’re able.

“Leave it.”

Suguru helps you to your feet, the action once more astoundingly sweet. It was making your head rush being surrounded by the two versions of him.

He grabs your arms and brings them up, placing them on his shoulders. He looks into your eyes as he gets on his knee, his hands ghosting over your waist.

“I’m going to take these off now.” He says, giving you room to stop him.

But you don’t.

You watch as he looks down, his face right in front of your pussy. He hooks his hands on the band of your underwear, sliding them off your legs. You lift one leg up at a time, suddenly grateful you have something to hold onto.

Suguru drops your underwear to the side and runs his hands up your thighs. He places a kiss on your tummy before standing to his full height again, his hands reaching behind you to unclasp your bra.

There was nothing to feel ashamed about. He had already seen you go through more than anyone else had, so why did you have to fight yourself to remain neutral as he took your body in?

His features look serene as his gaze drags across your body, no detail going unmissed.

“Stunning.” He looks back up at you, capturing your attention.

Your throat feels dry as you scramble for a response.

“Thank you.”

“Did you know you’re dripping, princess?”

Your thighs clench together and you feel the slick coating your inner thighs. You grimace and nod.

“Is this from getting whipped or from sucking my cock?”

“Both.”

Suguru hums in satisfaction, looking back down between your legs.

“Want some help with that?”

Your heart lurches in response but you timidly nod, following him as he leads you to the bed. It’s much softer than it looks, the comforter giving your ass some reprieve as you lay down on the side of the bed. Suguru spreads your legs, watching as the low light catches on the glint of your leaky core.

He bends down, placing gentle kisses down your chest as he goes. Suguru looks up and notices how your nipples begin to harden as his administrations. So damn sensitive. How adorable.

He travels down until he’s placing kisses closer to your pussy. The feeling was teasing in nature, but you didn’t want to rush him. Clearly he knew what he was doing. You might as well enjoy the ride.

Suguru places a kiss on either side of your pussy before pulling away, pupils focusing in on your unmarred thighs.

Oh, no that won’t do.

He gets in closer bringing his mouth to your skin. Your body reacts before you can even register what’s happening. Your legs try to clamp shut but his strong hands are holding them open. Looking down you notice that Suguru had bit into your inner thigh, his dark eyes staring right back at yours.

The sensation was unlike anything you had felt before. His teeth dig into your flesh, your mouth hanging open as you watch him. Suguru sucks lightly, his tongue darting out over the bite mark before pulling away. The sting of it spreads throughout you, but pure pleasure does as well. Who knew pain from so many different things could feel this good?

Suguru closes his eyes before bringing his mouth to the other side, teeth digging into your other leg. You moan out, fighting to keep your legs open for him. There was dynamite going off underneath your skin, you were positive of that.

He couldn’t wait any longer. He pulls away from your leg and draws himself in closer towards your throbbing pussy. He holds back a coo when he notices your hole clench.

He darts his tongue out, flicking it against your clit to test you. And just as he expected, you let out a desperate moan. Your reactions were driving him crazy, each noise causing his mind to reel.

Suguru dives in completely, his lips encasing your clit. You wanted to cry from the pleasure, his tongue working magic against your sensitive clit. He drags one hand away from your thigh to bring up to your pussy, feeling as though it deserves to be filled.

A finger works its way inside you, immediately hooking against your gspot. You laugh incredulously before tossing your head back, reveling in the pleasure he was indulging you in.

It was almost criminal how good he was.

His tongue dances across your clit while he slides a second finger in, both of them slowly working your gspot. You had never been brought to cumming so fast before, you would be ashamed if only it didn’t feel so good.

Your moans bounce off the walls of the room, the sound filling Suguru’s ears. You keep your eyes clamped shut in fear of what you might do if you saw the sight in front of you.

Suguru knows before you do, your pussy tightening around his fingers. He fucks you harder with them, sucking your clit as you cum. It feels like an out of body experience as he fucks you through it, bringing you down until your groans die out and the sound of your heavy breathing fills your ears.

He pulls his fingers out of you, swiping them against his tongue. Sure, he had many clients before now, but none of them were as sweet as you. It almost felt wrong to call you a client, this experience felt different compared to previous ones.

You peel your eyes open and watch as Suguru brings himself on the bed, his face hovering over yours.

“You’re cute when you cum,” he starts. “Cute when you cry too.”

You force your head to turn, staring away from him. The compliment simmers in your gut while you feel the body heat between you grow.

“Yeah, okay.” You murmur, self conscious.

“I’m serious.” He brings a finger under your chin to guide your gaze back to him.

As much as you want to disagree, you can see the truth his eyes hold. He was so damn kind. Many people would disagree with you. They would say no one who was a good person would enjoy hurting other people. But you knew the truth. Suguru was a kind man.

“You ready?” He asks.

Excitement bubbles up and you part your lips, telling him you are.

He presses his lips down on yours, wanting to share a tender moment before he fucks the life out of you. He locks his fingers into yours on either side of your head, before pulling away.

“Hands and knees.” His rough persona is back.

You crawl up on the bed, facing away from him. He takes a moment to appreciate the scene in front of him, your beaten ass on display as your cum drips down your legs. A new world wonder, if he was being honest with himself.

Suguru slides his shirt off, throwing it off to the side by your dress. Heat flickers beneath his skin as he watches you. He smooths a hand over your back as he grips his cock and rubs it between your sticky folds. The anticipation was killing you, knees practically shaking from the suspense.

Suguru slides into you, your walls struggling to accommodate him. Your mouth hangs open as he nudges into you. Nothing had ever felt so good, the pressure of his cock filling you to the brim.

“God damn it, princess.” You think you hear him say.

He sets a steady pace, wanting to slowly build up before getting back into the roughness of it all. His hips push into you a couple of times before he picks up speed. You moan out each time his cock plunges into you. You would have gotten lost in it if he didn’t snap you out.

Suguru threads his finger in your hair, getting a firm grip before he pulls it back. He holds it in a tight grasp, pain searing throughout your head.

Each part of you throbbed. Your ass, your thighs, your head. But somehow you craved more. Craved more pain. Craved more Suguru.

Suguru bares his teeth as he fucks you, your pussy tightening around him each time he yanks your hair.

Each thrust causes your mind to blank. He was fucking all sense out of you.

Suguru releases your hair before gripping your shoulder, yanking you back until your shoulder blades meet his chest. He reaches around in front of you, gripping onto your jaw, leaving you no room to look away as he tilts your head back.

His hand digs into you, pain settling in your face as he holds you.

“Tell me how it feels.” He sounds nearly breathless, his eyebrows knitted up in pleasure as he looks at you.

You furrow your brows as you look up at him, attention being split between his cock fucking into you and his hard grip on your face.

“H-hurts.” You murmur, your pushed up cheeks making it hard to talk.

Suguru’s breaths quicken, heart pounding as he thrusts into you.

“Yeah? Hurts?” Excitement leaks from his voice.

You nod and let out a sob when his cock presses against your gspot, his grip tightening.

“What do you think about the pain?”

“L-love it. Love the pain. Love when you hurt me.”

Suguru audibly swallows, throwing his head back as he lets out a low groan.

“Think you can handle more, princess?”

You agree, your mind swimming. He looks down at you again and releases your head, but keeps you pressed against him.

His hand makes contact with your cheek, a sting instantly spreading across your face. He slapped you. And you liked it.

Suguru does it once more, the force heavier this time. You moan out when he makes contact, all the while his cock punishing your insides. Endorphins swim in your head, muddling all remaining sense. You brace for impact once more, only to be met with nothing.

He doesn’t slap you again.

“Color?” You’re amazed he can even remember asking that while he’s doing this.

“Green, oh, green.”

Suguru smacks you again, his cock fucking you harder. You weren’t even aware you could moan this loud, but leave it to Suguru to give you a bunch of firsts.

Your eyes roll back as he slaps you again. He feels a deep satisfaction spread through him as he watches the pleasure dart across your face. That’s what all this was about, after all.

Suguru pushes you back down and you barely catch yourself, your hands holding you up. He puts one hand on your waist, placing the other one in your hair again. The loud noises from your connected sexes get louder, your pussy dripping even more as his cock drags inside you.

He pulls your head up, forcing you to stare in the mirror across the bed.

“Look at yourself.” He wills himself to say.

To say you looked debauched would be an understatement. Your face was a mess, tears streaming down your puffy cheeks. You couldn’t see your ass or the inside of your thighs in the mirror, but you didn’t have to see them to feel they were there. They hadn’t been hurt in awhile now, but the wounds still ached something fierce. You briefly wondered how long they would hurt. Hopefully for a long time.

“You look filthy. Utterly ruined.” His cock punches into you.

“Ohhh, fuck, FUCK!” You all but yell as his cock bruises you from the inside out.

Suguru moans behind you, going back and forth between looking at your face in the mirror and how his cock looks when he pulls it out.

He pulls his hand away from your hip and reaches down, instantly finding your swollen clit. Your body lurches forward once he makes contact, drawing tight circles around you.

“Yes! Yes!” Your voice is raw as it leaves your throat.

Suguru’s hips stutter as he feels you get closer to the edge. He keeps a tight grip on your hair, loving the way you wince each time he holds tighter.

“Fuck, you’re soaking. Pussy’s so good. Such a pain slut. You my little pain slut?”

You nod even though it causes more pain to spread across your head. Maybe that’s why you do it.

“Yes, I’m your, your pain slut.”

Suguru groans out a curse, his fingers continuing their ministrations.

“Gonna cum from getting knocked around?”

Your stomach tightens, moans increasing.

“Yes! Oh, fuck, fuck yes.” Your eyes clamp shut as you feel it start.

You cum around Suguru’s cock, your pussy squeezing his cock as you shake beneath him. The earth shattering feeling catches you off guard, electricity shooting through your body.

You register a groan from behind you before he pumps into you one more time before his cock shoots cum out, filling your spasming walls.

It takes you a minute to recover, each gasp of breath bringing you back down to earth.

Suguru slides out of you carefully, eyes drawn to the way the milky white cum seeps from your abused hole. He pushes back his bangs that came loose before going to the bedside table, rummaging around until he finds a towel.

His touch is careful as he cleans you up, fingers ghosting over your sensitive skin as he wipes away all remnants of his cum.

Suguru sets the soiled cloth aside before aiding you in sitting up. You whimper as your ass makes contact with the back of your calves. Your skin was on fire. He places each hand on either side of your face, the action instantly calming.

“How are you doing?” His soothing voice comes out.

Your eyes feel heavy as they look back up at him, his features washed over with concern.

You reach out and ball your fist against his toned chest.

“I’m okay.” Your voice sounds far away.

Suguru pulls one hand away and grabs a water bottle that sat next to the bed. He brings his other hand to it and cracks it open, passing it to you.

You grab it, tilting your head back as the cool water rushes down your throat. You take a couple of gulps before passing it back.

Instead of the sharp pain from each of your wounds, you’re body settles into a dull ache. The wounds were definitely there, and they were pleasing.

Suguru gets into the bed next to you and opens his arms.

“Come here.” Another command, one that was much softer.

You’re confused by the gesture but you scoot closer to him nonetheless, laying down until your head is directly over his heart. He was still shirtless, only his pants remaining but they were pulled back up and closed.

“This is an important part of each session. I’m not going to hurt you and send you packing.” He explains, his thumb stroking your arm.

His warmth seeps into your bones and you find yourself curling up closer to him.

“That’s sweet of you.”

“It’s the bare minimum.” He gently says, moving his head until he can see your face.

Your eyes were closed but you were still very much awake, if not hanging on by the tiny grasp of consciousness you still had.

“How did you feel about it?”

You try to articulate your thoughts, many feelings surging through your body.

“I really liked it.”

“None of it was too much?”

“No, it all felt really good.”

Suguru moves his head back as he gets comfortable. He had rented the room out for 24 hours, not knowing how long the session would last or how long you would want to relax after. He had no timeline, willing to stay here for as long as you needed.

The contact with his skin was helping bring your heart rate down, the adrenaline exiting your body. Your body was sore, and probably would be for the next couple of days.

“Thank you for helping me with this, I mean, giving me my first experience.”

Suguru smiles above you.

“No problem. I enjoyed it too.”

You feel giddy at his admission. Now that you had done this once, you weren’t sure you could get enough of it. You were already thinking about what your next scene might look like.

“Could we do it again?”

“Hm, I don’t know, I feel like you should rest a couple of hours first at the very least.” He ponders, obviously teasing you.

You click your tongue.

“You know what I mean.” You say with a shy smile.

Suguru chuckles above you.

“I’m kidding. We can do it again. You know where to find me.”

You smile against him, your eyes shutting. Sleep overtakes you, the feeling of success spreading throughout your body.

Tag List: @tojislittleprincesss

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#my writing #suguru x reader #suguru geto x reader #geto x reader #suguru x you #suguru geto x you #geto x you #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #suguru imagine #suguru geto imagine #geto imagine #jjk imagine #jjk fic #tw pain #tw dacryphilia #tw impact play #tw choking

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luvtak · 11 months ago

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seasons of love, hhj

✦ pairing hyunjin x reader

✦ genre/tw FLUFF! FLUFF! ONE MORE TIME SAY IT WITH ME! FLUFF!!! hyunjin and mc are very much in love! hyunjin is said to be taller than mc and have bigger hands. lots of kisses and i love yous. suggestive in a couple places. in and out of present and past tense lol. overall very sweet and lovely--hyunjin and mc falling in love through the seasons

✦ w/c 2412

✦ a/n okay so! this is a rewrite of something i posted springtime last year and i hated it lol. this time around i am very proud of hyune and mc and they’re love story and i hope you all love it too!! I've spent months adding scenes and taking them away until I got here <3 please like and reblog, and please please reach out if you have any ideas or questions or just wanna talk!! love you guys forever, mwah!!

He came to you in the Summer, bringing with him music and dancing, and so much laughter you forget how serious falling in love can be.

There is just something about warm weather. It could be the sun shining over your beloved, lighting them up like a god or a king, maybe it’s just that the temperature resembles the touch of your lover’s caress, or that the awakened world is made for romance. It was early July, and everything was blue and sunny; days were filled with jokes and getting to know each other over hot days and cold drinks. Confessions given on front porches and whispered under blue skies—a million firsts bundled up as the heat went away.

He tells you he likes you so quietly, whispering in his sweet little voice, “would you like to go out sometime?”

The way his tall frame looked against the paint palette sunset would live in your head forever; pretty hair and long legs, the sweetest smile curving up to his crescent moon eyes. Looking back, you wished you had a camera or shared his talent with a paintbrush–just to have that moment set in stone. The smile that made you say yes.

In the beginning, he was too shy to hold your hand or stand too close. Inching closer and closer until he stood against you–brushing his fingers against yours until his big hands were enveloping your smaller ones.

The first time he kissed you, his hands were shaking.

He was so nervous you could feel the goosebumps rising on his arms, but he asked so sweetly,

“Can I kiss you.” And there was no way you’d ever say no. Not when he stood there in his summer clothes and pink cheeks, not when it was Hyunjin asking.

He held you straight against him, both hands on your face—the first press of his lips like drinking water, so slow as not to choke then gulping it down. His skin was soft everywhere you touched, and his kiss was happy: full of teeth and giggles and coming up for air.

Getting to know him was like walking into your childhood home, everything about him as familiar as the lines on your palm. Some parts of you are certain you’ve known him before—maybe you were lovers then too, or maybe two trees whose roots were intertwined. In any reality, you can’t see how Hyunjin is supposed to be with you. There is just no other reason why he could know you so well already, no other explanation as to why his body fits around you like it was made to.

Late one night you tell him your theories, and the smile he gave you was so bright and shiny you thought the sun came up. You tell him calmly and earnestly,

“Hyun, I’m almost certain we’ve already met thousands of times before.”

August is hot and covered in orange sunsets and long kisses; pink skies the same color as his cheeks when he asks you out again and again. He tells you about his life while you flip through his journals, page after page dedicated to moments he loved and dreams he’s had, and moments yet to come.

The days are long and it’s so easy to care for him, 15 hours of sunlight allowing you to learn all of him and still need more. Sharing secrets under leaves and laughs under covers–it’s too quick to fall in love, too fast for this insatiable longing to rise up in you. But you think you are, you must be, what else could that aching pull in your tummy be?

The first I love you falls from your lips like the leaves around you. A day spent shopping in the Halloween aisles and holding hands to keep warm. He looks so pretty, dark hair standing out against the grays and oranges of the season, and you love him so much you can’t help but tell him. The words float easy, accompanied by wind bitten skin and a warm gaze.

At first, he hesitates, making sure he’s heard you right, until finally the sun breaks on his face and he speaks.

“I love you too, silly.” He says it like it’s obvious, and it is. He’s been telling you with his eyes and his hands for months, it’s the truest he’s ever felt.

Autumn is spent studying each other, learning how and when to touch—how to make him gasp and sigh. His eyes flutter when you kiss his hip and roll when you bite down; He scratches and pulls, he makes your teeth rattle with his skin. Late nights and early mornings mapping each other, he tells you he loves you and swallows the response, touches the words away.

“I love you; I love you; I love you.” You say over and over again, hoping it sinks into his soul like a second skin.

In mere months, he knows your heart like it’s his own, slotting himself into your life like he’s always been a part of it. Your body has become his home; he’s tied his heart to yours in a double knot. You’re made for him, he’s sure of it—molded from the same clay, split-a parts who’ve found each other.

He tells you things he’s never told anyone before, pressing the secrets against your lips and pulling all of your secrets out of you at the same time.

He adores you, cherishes you as a person, a friend, a lover. He feels happier than he ever has, and he wants to show you to everyone he knows. When he introduces you to his friends, the smile never leaves his face and his hand stays wound with yours. They welcome you like an old friend, and he feels like both pieces of his heart are melting together. He watches you joke with Felix and be teased by Minho, and he thinks you’re the piece that’s been missing this whole time.

Months have been spent just the two of you, and it’s been perfect–intimate and so warm, but seeing you among his friends changes things. Almost like it wasn’t yet real, and now it is.

When you go to bed that night, he tells you,

“They love you and I love you.” and the look you give him is so beautiful, he thinks he should bottle it and save it for later.

Winter brings an unwelcome guest, a yearning for him that won’t go away—it’s harder to love him when he’s busy, and you wish you could be stronger and less jealous, but you’re only one person. It gets considerably difficult to wash the harsh feelings away when he isn’t there to help you, too many nights spent feeling too far away from him induce an anger you can’t get rid of.

When he arrives late and smelling of alcohol, you can’t seem to swallow the bitterness—why would he be drinking when he could be here with you?

Hyunjin, never a novice in reading you, picks it up right away.

One quick comment and then yelling.

“Are you just tired of me?” It escapes from your tongue like a lash, pricking invisible scars onto every vein. He wishes you would know he misses you too, but how could you when he’s never around, not physically nor emotionally, so you keep screaming. Yelling so loud about things that don’t matter. You hope he knows you’re fighting to stay, not to leave, but the words leaving your mouths are so harsh, you can’t be certain if he remembers he loves you.

If you were in your right mind, you’d know he doesn’t want it this way. Everyday he longs for the heat of summer and the comfort of autumn. If he wasn’t drunk, he could tell you, but instead he says, “I just can’t do this anymore.” Maybe it’s better to let go and find each other next time, next life.

Recently it’s been too hard, and maybe he’s not strong enough to learn about this part of you, but you are.

You’ve never been afraid to learn his bad parts, sure he’s a dream shaped like a boy, but he’s also whiny and clingy, and sometimes he gives up too fast. Even though it’s hard, and the tears are streaming into the seam of your lips—you gulp down the acidity and tell him you love him.

“It’s never going to get easier, Hyun, you’ll always be busy, and I’ll probably always miss you, but I love you and you said we’re meant to be, and you’re not a liar.” You tell him you’re sorry for yelling, and he says he’s sorry too, and in the morning, he’ll use his hands to apologize and then his mouth and he’ll promise to keep you warm when he can.

Winter is spent learning to love the pieces of each other that are unlikable, to see the invisible boundaries of before and honor them. You remember your theory about the trees with woven roots, and you remind yourself sometimes you’ll have to sacrifice your share of the water to survive, and you hope it’ll be easier when the world reawakens.

Night comes so fast, and it's so cold, but he loves you. It’s been half a year now, and you almost can’t remember where you were this time last year. Were you freezing without him? Or did you only feel the cold now that he’s here?

All you know is his warmth–pressing into you wherever he can.

A silent promise for the spring yet to come.

His birthday arrives with the first of the blooms, the world not yet alive. You wish him happy birthday under warm sheets, whimpering the words in place of presents. He spends the day with the people he loves most and the happiness he feels eases into spring. He tells you it used to be his favorite; and you promise for his day you will bring some of the magic back.

You help him pick flowers to paint, and read him your favorite stories, you kiss him under cherry blossoms and show him your favorite sunsets. It helps some, but not all—even so, spring with you is prettier than without. He’s sure his skin is brighter because you kiss it, and his paintings are better because they’re of you. He doesn’t know if you believe him, but he means it. His world has become technicolor since you walked into it.

He says it’s just better with you, “I mean it, honey, life is unbelievable when you’re around.”

It’s almost been a year, months spent learning and growing just like the flowers scattered around you. He loves you, so it takes no hesitation when you ask him to move in. He feels like it was already in the midst of happening anyway—his one drawer became a dresser, and his favorite snacks found their way to your cabinets.

Months ago, your heart became his home, and now he gets to live in it every day. Sure, you bicker some: many sighs of “That’s not where that goes, Hyun.” Combined with sweet mutters of “Well, it should go there, sweetheart.” But it’s exhilarating to open his boxes and link his life with yours—mitch-matched mugs in the sink and dirty clothes mixed together.

Your home is filled with dancing and music, laughter and love. His paintings cover the walls, pictures of your days held with magnets on the fridge. His life is now yours and your days belong to each other, and every night he reminds you it’s almost been a year, but how could you forget.

Sometimes, when he puts a dish away wrong, or leaves his clothes on the floor, you question why you invited him in. Even so, you wouldn’t take it back. He’s added so much color into your life, spring personified. A lovely romantic boy who sets your soul on fire.

The flowers that line the street remind you of him, and the bees who accompany you on your walk sing a quiet song that resembles his sweet nothings.

Your sweet spring boy, Hyunjin.

Radiant in every season.

Somehow, he looks the prettiest in the July heat. Of course, every season you’ve spent with him he’s been beautiful, but there is something about his smile surrounded by clear skies. His cheeks are the same color as the flowers and his kisses as warm as the sun. Something about the season where you first met, encasing him in a beauty befit of a prince. You can’t believe it’s been a year with him, a year getting to know how to love him and feeling his love back.

Looking at him now, he could probably make you do anything which is why when he woke you up at the crack of dawn dragging you out to see the sunrise you couldn’t say no. It was frustrating at first, when all you wanted was a few more hours in bed next to him, but Hyunjin could make you do anything if he smiled down at you.

He’s doing it now, looking so darling in his light sweater and clips in his bed-messed hair, looking past you at the sunrise. You love him like this, and it takes all of you not to tell him, to keep the peace of dawn.

You’ve loved things before—people, places, things, but never a boy like this.

Hwang Hyunjin is so precious, so dear to you that it hurts sometimes. No one has ever loved you the way he does, his love surrounds you—covers you under a warm blanket of his affection until it radiates into you.

He’s telling you how pretty you are, how you look like the fresh blooms and you’re laughing—which is all he wanted. He only ever wants to make you happy, even if that means being a cheeseball sometimes. Especially if that means waking you up early enough to see the sun come up, and he wants to see that smile again, so he asks,

“Honey, do you wanna know a secret?”

“Oooo, yes tell me.”

“I love you.” It comes so easy, flows so quickly past his lips like a nightly prayer, like it’s something so objectively true he can’t lie about it, which it is. And your smiles is so wide, laughing at how sweet your boy is, and you say,

“Oh, I already Knew that. I love you too.” And he smiles, grinning at the summer sky.

#hyunjin #hyunjin x reader #skz x reader #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin fluff #skz fluff #stray kids x reader #stray kids fluff #stray kids scenarios #hwang hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x you #skz imagines #hyunjin scenarios #skz x you #stray kids #skz

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jovial-thunder · 3 months ago

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Downtimes, module editor, water temple

Happy summer! There's smoke in Portland but it's not too bad. Bless firefighters. Work on Lancer Tactics continues apace.

This month has been mostly focused on the largest heretofore-untouched section of the game: downtimes and the module editor for designing the sequences between combats. We're not planning on doing anything particularly innovative or new in its design — if you've played Banner Saga, Fire Emblem (gameboy versions), or Rogue Squadron you'll recognize what's going on here.

Repair, level up, have visual-novel-style conversations with companions, do some light choose-your-own-adventuring, and pick & launch the next combat. All pretty standard downtime fare — games have pretty thoroughly explored these patterns as vehicles for narrative at this point.

The unique thing that Lancer Tactics is offering on this front is an editor to make your own entire campaigns. Classic games like Warcraft or Age of Empires had incredible scenario editors, but making anything more than a one-mission map was solely the domain of modders. Over the last few weeks, we've gotten a full basically-visual-novel-editor working ingame where you can orchestrate NPC story arcs, clocks ticking, branching paths, and triggered events for all the stuff that happens between combats.

All of the campaigns we ship with the game are going to be made with these same editors, which'll force us to really make sure that they're solid tools. I think it'd be very funny to someday see someone like completely ignore all the mech stuff and just make a visual novel in this engine.

There's no new preview game build this month because adding this big section of the game means too many things are under construction. I'm happy with how fast we've been able to get this going, but making ingame editors is a lot of unglamorous UI piping and data refactoring work. Fingers crossed that it'll come together enough that we'll be able to get the first version of this editor in your hands in time for the next update

Other Changelogs

Carpenter has started re-making the tutorial level from the demo in this new engine, which is pushing us to add a bunch of stuff to the combat editor. I added triggers for playing arbitrary effects on the map, moving the camera, storing arbitrary data to the battle/module states, enabling/disabling/triggering other triggers, AND/OR conditions, and putting execution limits on triggers.

Triggers can highlight UI or actions (so it can be like "use the boost to get through!" and the boost button becomes all shiny)

New "camera start" zone type

Added a "hotspot" zone type that has a little floating title, and plastered the names of other zones on the map (visual style stolen from some Foundry VTT modules)

Added water, whose level can be set via the editor or triggers.

Added unmounted pilots who can mount up into Shut Down mechs. We continue to plan to not have pilot combat be a part of the core game, but it'll be useful for scenario or scripted sequences.

Added activation pips and template icons to the mini healthbar on units.

A bunch more portrait editor assets from Martina, including facial hair. Here's a check Carpenter did where he tried to recreate some official Lancer art ingame. ✨

Schedule update

Taking a look at our original date for the "bones" of the game ("finishing the battle engine, basic character creation, 2 mechs per manufacturer, and an a 'instant action' mode"), we estimated being able to get it done by the end of November. The emotional milestone for me on this front is getting the game to a complete enough state that I feel OK about swapping it in on the itch.io page.

I've been saying that the 3D cataclysm has pushed us back back about 3 months, and I think that's still holding true. Carpenter and I haven't officially made the call yet, but I think it's likely we'll need that time to port more mech content; here's a graph they made that shows about where we're sitting on the PC and NPC mechs for the "bones" target in terms of mechanics and action icon/sprite.

(This data is pulled from a big table they made that includes ALL talents/gear/traits where we've been marking things off as we've implemented them. Very handy for tracking where we are.)

That's all for now. Tata!

#lancer tactics #lancer rpg #indie game dev #made with godot #godot 4 #tactics rpg #mecha

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what-pony-is-this · 6 months ago

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Hello! Any chance you can help me figure out who this pony is? I've tried looking it up myself but I'm having a hard time trying to match her to anyone lol

This is Snuzzle from 1982/1983 (she was released in 1983 but her hoof may say 1982, this is probably due to delays in the My Little Pony's official US release)

Snuzzle has a light grey/white coat, pink mane and, blue eyes. She has pink hearts for a cutie mark (sometimes depicted with 11 hearts, sometimes depicted with 8 hearts) and, had multiple overseas releases in alternate colours.

You will see her on lots of merchandise, especially in "nostalgic" re-releases post the 2010s, as Snuzzle was one of the very first original six ponies released in the 80s, along with; Butterscotch, Blue Belle, Minty, Cotton Candy and, Blossom and this was before the official movie in 1986. (remember Blue Belle and Minty)

Snuzzle's backcard (US release) read: "My Little Pony is a pretty pony with long, shiny hair. She likes you to comb her hair so it stays silky and soft. You can braid her tail and tie it in a ribbon too!"

Snuzzle also came in other colours during the 1983-1995 release such as a white and blue variant, a brown and white variant, and a variant where her cutie mark was purple instead of pink!

Despite being one of the very first ponies to be introduced in the MLP franchise Snuzzle never made an appearance in either the 1986 movie, or the following tv shows; "My Little Pony n' Friends" and "My Little Pony Tales", nor did she show up in G3, G3.5 or the G4 tv shows.

Although she did make an appearance in the Gameloft Mobile game "My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic".

It wouldn't be until G5 that Snuzzle would make an actual animated and voice acted appearance as part of "The Dreamlands" a retro band that shows up during the special; "Bridlewoodstock" Their band name being a reference to "Dream Valley" where the ponies lived in the G1 television show.

Snuzzle in G5 seems to have retained most of her original look with the added bonus of a more curly hair style to define her from her bandmates, and also original ponies, Blue Belle and Minty!

#identified #mlp fim #mlp g4 #mlp g1 #snuzzle #submission #figures #stickers

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sleekervae · 9 months ago

Text

New York Romantic .6

Masterlist

a/n: Hi everyone, thanks again for your patience! This chapter is a little shorter and there's not as much dialogue as there is a lot of dancing. I had a lot of fun researching some of the dances for the Nutcracker ballet, and while I hoped to have this chapter up by Christmas, March 1st isn't so bad either 😅

pairing: Tom Blyth x ballerina!oc

summary: tom attends noelle's recital

word count: 2,759

taglist: @watercolorskyy @carolanns-world @alana4610

Tom wasn't so sure how he found himself sitting across from Noelle's family at a local breakfast eatery, somewhere along his morning Franca had insisted that he come along. And it went without saying that he was grateful for the meal, it had been a while since Tom had the privilege of eating out while on his student budget.

Maurice was an investment banker who worked for a smaller banking branch in Maine, tall with a shiny bald head, a seasoned gentleman of respectable stature with deep smile lines and wise eyes. Meanwhile Franca was an architect, a lavish yet simply dressed woman with long auburn hair, and freckles were scattered across her cheeks and nose. Chiara was a couple years younger then Noelle, her curly hair was much more reminiscent of her mother's but it was easy to draw facial comparisons between the cousins. She was a senior at some fancy private school, and whatever was on her phone proved to be much more interesting then conversation with the table crowd.

"So, Tom," Maurice looked to him as he stirred his tea, "Have you always wanted to get into show business?" he asked.

"Not at first," Tom replied, "I wasn't quite sure what I wanted to do at first, but my mum signed me up for some drama classes and my father worked in the film industry, so it all just kind of fell into place,"

"And where'd you grow up in England?" Franca asked, resting her chin on her locked fingers.

"York,"

"Oh, lovely! It's just North of Leeds, yes?"

"That's right,"

"Maurice and I were debating where to go for our fifteenth wedding anniversary, and I've heard such lovely things about that town," she said, "Alas, we settled on Marseilles and toured a bit through Southern France,"

"That sounds beautiful!" Tom awed, glancing Noelle's way, "Did you go, too?"

Noelle shook her head, "Nope, Chiara and I were manning the house for two weeks," she replied.

"It was so peaceful," Chiara added, her gaze still fixed on her phone. Maurice cleared his throat abruptly, staring down his daughter as she swiftly got the hint and put her phone away.

"Anyway," he then grumbled, "What do you want to do when you graduate, Tom? Theatre? Movies?"

"Movies, ideally. But I'd be open to wherever the wind blows me," he replied.

"I went to see his improv show last week," Noelle said, "He was really good!"

Tom shrugged, praying his cheeks wouldn't tinge, "I -- I mean I was okay..."

Noelle cocked her head down, giving him a playful glare, "Oh, c'mon. You were great. And I say so, so it must be true," she grinned. He couldn't help it then, Tom averted his gaze to his plate but nonetheless he was blushing.

Chiara scoffed under her breath, "You two are just adorable," she muttered sarcastically.

Tom watched Noelle roll her eyes, never the less her fingers fidgeted as she went to pick up her coffee cup. A sip of something to quell his dry throat sounded like a good idea, a pleasant cooling off before Tom could find himself swept up in the memory of that kiss yet again.

"Anyway," Franca cut in, "How's Bianca doing, Noelle?"

"Good!" Noelle nodded quickly, thankful the spotlight was off her for the moment, "She made it Maine just before the snow storm hit,"

"Is she gonna be back in time for the showcase?" Chiara asked.

"She's supposed to be back the morning of,"

Tom raised a brow, "Why didn't she leave after the showcase?" he asked.

Noelle shrugged listlessly, "She likes Christmas in Manhattan better,"

"-- Is Derek gonna come down?" Chiara asked, her interest seemingly peaking more than it had all morning. Derek was Bianca's older brother, as Noelle had told previously.

"I guess we'll find out," Noelle replied.

Maurice's gaze narrowed, "And if he were, what would you have in common with a twenty-six-year-old college drop out, anyway?" he asked gruffly.

Franca swiftly elbowed her husband, an urgent smile plastered to her lips as she stared him down pointedly, "Perhaps we can find something more relevant to talk about?" she suggested, turning back to Tom, "Have you been to any of the ballet recitals, Tom?"

Tom shook his head, "I haven't yet. This will be my first," he replied.

"We're so excited to see it. This will be Noelle's first big part in a production," she beamed.

Maurice nodded along, cutting into his egg-white omelette, "She's our little Sugar Plum Fairy!" he awed. None of them paid attention to Chiara's eye-roll.

Noelle grimaced, a bashful grin befalling her as Tom turned to her, "You didn't tell me that," he said.

She shrugged back sheepishly, "... Oh... didn't I?" she chuckled.

"No, you did not," he drawled back, "That's fantastic!"

"Well -- I still have a lot of practice to do before Friday, so we'll see," Noelle didn't like drawing too much attention to herself in that rhetoric. She was grateful for the opportunity, though nevertheless she knew the recital wasn't all about her.

"Are you gonna do her makeup, Chiara?" Franca asked her daughter.

Chiara shrugged back, glancing at her cousin, "Do you want me to do your makeup?"

"Of course I do!" Noelle nodded, "I'm no where near as good as you,"

"Alright, sure then," Chiara barely got the words out as she turned to her phone once again.

Maurice took the conversation again, folding his hands before his plate and twitching his nose, "Tom, why don't you join us on Wednesday? We reserved a box for four,"

"It'll be a great view of the stage," Franca added.

Tom was flattered, though he didn't want to impose, "Oh, I don't -- I don't want to intrude on you guys like that,"

Franca shook her head, "Please, it's not intruding if we invite you -- that's what my mother always used to say, anyhow," she chuckled.

"Have you bought your ticket?" Maurice asked.

"Yes," Tom replied.

"Well then, you're already set up," he told him, "I insist, and we can head out for dinner after,"

Tom turned to Noelle, her smile was bordering on confident, but she hoped that he wouldn't feel too pressured. After all, she knew her family could be a bit much and they had all only just met. But he didn't see the harm; her family was so nice and the view of the stage was promised to be excellent. And if it meant having a better view of Noelle, who was he to pass that up?

"Alright, if you're sure I'll be happy join you," he decided.

Friday was the twenty-third, and despite Christmas Day being just around the corner, the hustle and bustle of New York never stopped. Neither did the cold. It hadn't snowed again but the nefarious east coast arctic fronts swept through the streets; icicles were formed off of passing trucks and the sidewalks and roads were awash in various colours of crushed melting salts. And the cold certainly didn't deter eager shoppers to tick off last minute Christmas gifts from their lists.

Tom wasn't sure what he was supposed to wear to a ballet recital, he didn't want to overdress but he certainly didn't want to look sloppy either. His mum had shipped over some more clothes a couple weeks prior, nicer slacks, dress shirts, a couple pairs of shoes that definitely weren't ice-friendly. Nevertheless, he settled for a white t-shirt and blazer jacket sat over some dark jeans, and his trainers that at least wouldn't send him skidding with one wrong move.

The last few days had flown by rather quickly, and surprisingly, Tom always found that he had something to do. Usually hanging out with Jordan; he introduced Tom to a plethora of video games ranging from Super Mario to Zelda. It was one of the few things Tom found Jordan didn't complain about. And when they weren't inside playing video games, they were out exploring Times Square.

And this worked out quite well because when Noelle wasn't spending time with her family, she was always rehearsing. But in the evenings they would spend time together, watch more movies and just relax. Tom was practicing his cooking skills as well, nothing too fancy but he perfected how to cook salmon in a pan and boiling rice. Noelle was grateful too, especially as her muscles ached from her practice. The more time they spent together, the more fascinated they became with each other.

The campus was typically closed for the holidays, making exceptions for shows such as this. Audience members were lined up just outside the auditorium door, shielded from the cold within campus but still bundled up in long or heavy coats, scarves and hats.

Tom found Noelle's family already settled in their balcony seats, Franca spotted him first and waved him down. And just as Maurice had said, there was an excellent view of the stage from their spot. The heavy red curtain was drawn over the stage, dim mood light reflecting off the material and back on the shadowy faces mingling in the crowd.

Backstage meanwhile was a calamity mess, stage hands rushing to finish prop placement, sets, and stage cues. The ballerinas were also making their last minute touch ups, makeup, hair, tutus, dusting their slippers in rosin and some even sewing their tights and ribbons to their slippers to keep everything snug and in place. Noelle however was dawdling behind the curtain, peaking out through the sliver at the side to skim over obscure faces.

It was a delicate balance, trying to locate her family without being too conspicuous, but after a bit of searching, she spotted them. Chiara was engrossed in her phone, bathed in the soft glow of the screen, while Uncle Maurice struggled to free himself from his coat. Aunt Franca was deep in conversation with Tom, who, despite the dim lighting, seemed to blend into the shadows effortlessly, though he appeared to be holding his own in their lively discussion. Noelle's stomach was aflutter, not from the performance unfolding before her, but from the sight of Tom. Her attention was fixed on him, and the magic of the evening's entertainment paled in comparison.

"Noelle!" Stanis' voice bellowed behind her, he was storming her way as Noelle turned, "Pre-show in two minutes!"

Tom found Franca fascinating. She was a captivating woman, full of vibrant tales from her travels to exotic locales. Her stories were peppered with encounters with intriguing characters from whom she had negotiated for unique souvenirs to add to her collection. Nevertheless, Tom's anticipation grew as he eagerly awaited the start of the show. His eyes couldn't help but flicker towards the curtain, eager to catch a glimpse of Noelle as the curtain would lift. His curiosity and excitement were palpable, adding to the charged atmosphere of the evening.

And sure enough the lights dimmed down to near darkness, a single spotlight illuminating a spot on the curtains. The theater was alive with excitement as the curtains rose, revealing a beautifully adorned stage set for "The Nutcracker" ballet. Tom sat back in his seat, his eyes wide with anticipation, taking in the magical scene unfolding before him. The stage was transformed into a winter wonderland, with a backdrop of snow-covered trees that stretched up to a starry sky. The stage was lit with a soft, moonlit glow, casting a magical aura over the scene. Glittering snowflakes fell gently from above, adding to the enchantment of the setting. The dancers moved gracefully across the stage, each step perfectly choreographed to Tchaikovsky's enchanting music.

The Miniature March Dance began, and the stage came alive with the lively and charming movements of the young dancers. They moved with precision and grace, their movements synchronized to the playful notes of the music. The choreography was intricate, with the dancers forming intricate formations and patterns, showcasing their skill and talent. Tom was captivated by the youthful exuberance of the performers, as were the audience, and the dance brought a smile to everyone's face.

As the performance unfolded, Tom found his eyes repeatedly drawn to Noelle, who gracefully moved among the dancers. Clad in a celestial white gown, she seemed to float across the stage, her every movement a dance of ethereal beauty. While she was currently a background presence in the performance, Tom couldn't help but be mesmerized by her presence, captivated by her effortless grace and enchanting allure.

Next came the Arabian Dance, and Bianca took centre stage. A hush fell over the audience. She was a vision of grace and lithe elegance, moving with a captivating fluidity that mesmerized all who watched. Her every movement was deliberate and confident, exuding a subtle but undeniable aura of cockiness.

Bianca's performance was a masterclass in control and precision, her movements perfectly synchronized to the haunting melody of the music. As she danced, she seemed to command the stage, drawing the audience into her world with a confident allure that was impossible to ignore. The Arabian Dance was no easy feat and Tom had to give Bianca credit where credit was due, however he couldn't help but feel slightly unnerved as her gaze always seemed to land on him time and time again.

Soon enough it was Noelle's time to shine. As the familiar notes of the Sugar Plum Fairy dance began to fill the theatre, Tom's gaze was immediately drawn to Noelle, who had taken centre stage. She looked radiant in her tutu, rose gold detailing shimmering in the lights, her gorgeous long hair tied back in a sleek up-do, and a delicate, shiny tiara placed upon her head. She looked like a true princess, her every movement a testament to her skill and grace. Despite the beauty of the dance unfolding before him, Tom found it impossible to tear his eyes away from Noelle, his admiration for her growing with each passing moment.

Noelle, for her part, felt a mixture of nerves and excitement as she danced. She had dreamed of this moment for years, to prove herself worthy of the role of the Sugar Plum Fairy, and now that it was finally here, she couldn't help but feel a surge of nervous excitement. However, as she danced, it wasn't the perfection of her performance that consumed her thoughts, but the way her stomach fluttered with butterflies every time she caught Tom's gaze. It was a feeling unlike any other, a mix of joy, nerves, and she could see the admiration and affection in his gaze, which both thrilled and humbled her.

As the dance reached its climax, Tom found himself holding his breath, completely captivated by Noelle's performance. She danced with a grace and elegance that took his breath away, her every movement a testament to her talent and dedication. He couldn't help but think back to the moments he had seen her exhausted, bruised, and drained after long hours of practice. He could only imagine the dedication and hard work she had put in to reach this point, and it filled him with a deep sense of admiration for her. All those late nights and early mornings had led to this moment, and as he watched her graceful movements across the stage, he felt a swell of pride knowing that he had witnessed a small part of her journey to this incredible achievement. He swore he could've watched her -- become lost in her -- forever.

As the final notes of the dance faded away and Noelle took her bow, the audience erupted into applause, but Tom's eyes never left Noelle, his adoration for her greater than ever. She glanced up briefly, trying desperately not to become so overwhelmed with the applause, and her gaze fixating on Tom once more. His beaming smile was all the validation she needed in that moment.

The show progressed on, right up until the final Pas de Deux between the Sugar Plum Fairy and the Nutcracker. Tom watched among the crowd, his heart racing with a realization that took him by surprise. In that moment, he couldn't deny the truth to himself any longer. Watching her dance, he had felt something more than admiration or friendship. It was a crush, a flutter of emotions that he had been trying to ignore but now couldn't deny. Tom realized that he had developed feelings for Noelle, captivated by her everything. And if the previous few days had been anything to go by, there was a slim chance that she too felt the same way.

If only his own uncertainty wouldn't hold him back.

#tom blyth #tom blyth x reader #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus fanfiction #coriolanus imagine #coriolanus x reader #the hunger games #the hunger games the ballad of songbirds & snakes #the hunger games x reader #original story #original female character #original series #imagines #imagine blog

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mythosidhesdollhouse · 5 months ago

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Rainbow High Littles: Indigo Bailey, Pt. 2

Hey folks, sorry it took longer than expected to get this posted (health complications, not serious just time consuming), but as promised here is the continuation of my RH Littles review (Pt.1 is here). Still feeling a bit drained from *stuff* so I'm going to keep this one fairly short and to the point...right after Krystal Jr. has finished banishing that slime daemon back to its own dimension...

...And now with that out of the way--Hair talk! (sorry for the lack of banter in this one, I'm too tired to script dialog today)

I've already seen one review claiming at least some of the Littles have polypropylene hair. Based on my examination of Indigo's braids, in her case at least I do not believe this assessment to be correct. In my opinion the evidence points to her rather having lower grade nylon hair (as referenced in @dollsahoy's excellent video on the problems with using polypropylene as a doll hair fiber). In this post we're going to take a look at how I came to this conclusion, with the help of some Shadow High girls with similarly textured hair.

First let's compare Indigo's braids to our purple QUEEN, Monique. Now, imo Monique is the gold standard for microbraids on a doll, not just just for RH/MGA but across the board. The majority of her braids are very fine, shiny, smooth to the touch, and made up of straids of multiple colors woven together. They hang quite straight, and have a nice weight to them. I say the majority because mixed into the base of multicolor braids there are a few monochrome blue and purple strands, which differ in weight and texture to the rest, being courser and slightly bulkier.

An initial side by side comparison shows that Indigo's braids look quite different than Monique's. They are mainly a solid periwinkle/lavender shade, with some strands incorporating a second, more magenta-leaning color mixed in. They feel lighter, and don't sit neatly around her head, though I attribute this at least in part to her rather chaotic rooting pattern. In texture and appearance they have more in common with Monique's blue and purple highlight strands than the bulk of her hair. Taking all this into account, I think it's safe to say these two do not share the same hair fiber.

But now let's take a look at our other braid ambassador, Pinkie. When I first got this doll I was immediately struck by how different her hair was, in both appearance and texture, from Monique's. It's both courser and duller in texture, has less complexity to the color blend (I see only two, extremely similar shades of pink), and doesn't appear to have the same weight to the fiber necessary to lie straight like Monique's does. Additionally, given their slightly crunchy feel and fact that they remain creased from her packaging months after I unboxed her, I suspect the only reason her braids lie as flat as they do is that some amount of product was added to her hair to keep them in place.

And when we compare Pinkie's braids to Indigo...this looks like a much closer match! Leaving aside the difference in color and length, the braids on these dolls look, feel, and behave in virtually identical ways. Taking everything I've observed from these comparisons into account, I feel comfortable with the conclusion that Pinkie's and Indigo's braids were made from the same fiber.

But here's the thing....MONIQUE AND PINKIE BOTH HAVE NYLON HAIR. I have never seen a single indication that a mainline Rainbow or Shadow High doll has had anything else. It might not all be the same quality of nylon, but it's nylon all the same. Just for good measure I grabbed a Skultimate Secrets MH doll (which very definitely has poly) and they don't feel the same. They just don't.

Aside from some speculation (completely unsubstantiated) that the Swim & Style budget dolls have polypropylene hair, it's never been in question that MGA has used anything other than nylon on this line, and it seems vaguely nonsensical to me to imply that they would start now. Sure I could be wrong--obviously if MGA makes an official statement confirming they've switched to poly I'll eat my words--but the detail and care that went into the design of Indigo's clothing tells me they are still trying to make a good quality product. While the target demographic and aesthetic of the brand may have changed since the soft reboot began earlier this year, I see absolutely no evidence that these are badly made dolls. Adult collectors may not like them, and yes it's a hard shift from the exemplary attention to detail we got used to when the focus of the brand was on older collectors, but that's not the same thing as them being objectively poor in quality. They're just different. It happens.

SO YEAH. That concludes my thoughts on Rainbow High Littles. I think they're fine for what they are. I like the one I got. I have no plans to buy more, but if they release other characters down the line, who knows? I for one am ready to move on from this 'controversy' and redirect my attention to other dolls I'm actually looking forward to.

#rainbow high #rainbow high littles #indigo bailey #doll reviews #doll collector #ahahahahaha 'short and to the point'#yeah I know I'm full of shit #blame the ADHD

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mak3itr7ght · 5 months ago

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Pair: Kim Seokjin x fm!reader (Doctor who AU)

words count: 1449

A.N. : Jin is finally back! TT and while rewatching his MVs to celebrate, i pictured him as the Doctor in the MV of 'The Astronaut' so..yeah, here's the first part of a one-shot I wrote yesterday! Hope you'll enjoy!

The noises of car horns and people chatting filled the bustling streets. Strangely, the sky was clear, and the sun was shining over the British city. Suddenly, a strange wheezing sound echoed in the air, and a little blue box appeared in the sky, wobbling uncontrollably. After hitting a few walls, the box finally landed in a narrow alley, the impact forcing the door to slightly open, white smoke escaping from the entrance.

Right then, a young woman sneaked into the alley, her heart pounding. She glanced over her shoulder, scanning the busy street she had just left. She seemed to be in a hurry, her eyes wide with agitation. As soon as she spotted the box, she rushed inside without thinking twice.

"Phew," she sighed in relief, her eyes closed as she leaned against the wooden door. But once she opened her eyes, they widened in surprise. That wasn't the interior of a police box! It was bigger on the inside! Full of stairs and railings, with a big smoky control panel with colorful flashing buttons and levers, placed at the center of the room.

The girl rubbed her eyes, shocked. "It can't be," she told herself, skeptical. She stepped outside again, observing the box with more attention. She circled it several times, it was so small, yet, entering again, she found herself in that huge room.

"Oi!" a voice called. The girl jumped in surprise, looking for the owner of the voice. A young man appeared from behind the panel; he was wearing a wrinkled white shirt, dark blue pants, and no shoes. He looked lost.

"Help!" the girl panicked, exiting the cabin. She rushed outside the alley, but after spotting something—her pursuer, still searching—she returned inside, slamming the door behind her.

"You look unsettled," the man commented while randomly handling some buttons and levers.

"Who are you? What's this place? Why is this box bigger on the inside?"

"Exactly!" The man pointed his index finger towards the girl. "All good questions! I keep asking myself quite the same! Especially the first one," he added, chuckling.

The girl frowned. "Don't you know who you are?"

"Indeed!" The man pulled a lever, starting an alarm and a flashing red light. "Oh...not good. Let's get out!" The young man ran towards the girl, and together they got out of the cabin before explosions started inside it. The man rushed to close the blue door before sliding down to sit on the asphalt.

The girl looked at him with a mixture of confusion and pity. She supposed he had lost his memory somehow, yet she couldn't find an explanation for that strange blue box.

"What's your name?" the man asked.

"Y/N," the girl answered, hesitant.

"Well, Y/N—AH!" The man grabbed his head, while a sort of shiny goldish fog escaped from his mouth, dissolving in the air.

The girl took a step back, scared. "Okay—now I gotta go..."

"You can't go, you're hiding from something," the brunette said, sighing and resting his head against the wooden blue door.

"How—"

"You saw a blue police box, bigger on the inside, you got scared and escaped, then you returned, you saw me and escaped again, then before fully exiting the alley, you rereturned. Wait, can I say rereturned'?" He rubbed his chin, thoughtful. "Wait a moment." He trailed his fingers along his face, studying every feature. "This is new." The man jumped to his feet, approaching Y/N who, still astonished, held her breath.

"Describe me, Y/N, please," he grabbed her shoulders, staring into her eyes.

The girl, giving up on finding a logical reason for whatever was happening that day, started to describe him mechanically. "Almond-shaped dark eyes, pale skin, no imperfections, long hair, slightly wavy, straight nose, full lips..." She cleared her throat.

"I've never had almond eyes till now!" The man stepped back, smiling and giggling, excited.

"You're crazy," Y/N stated, slightly scared.

"By the way, I think I know my name," the man turned to face her. "I'm the Doctor, and this is my new face!" He exclaimed, grinning.

The girl raised a brow. "Doctor? Doctor who?"

"Ah! I don't know why, but I feel like I’ve already heard that! Probably because I've in fact already heard that. But, you know, I can't remember everything I've been told in almost 2000 years of life, and—"

"Here you are," another voice was heard at the entrance of the alley. It was another man, he looked sinister, with dark purple circles under his eyes and an unkempt beard.

"Oh no, no," Y/N rushed to hide behind the Doctor, holding his arm. The latter looked back at her, confused, before turning again to face the other man.

"And you are…?" the brunette wondered.

"Y/N’s friend. And you? Who should you be?" the man answered, clearly annoyed.

"I'm—"

Y/N interrupted him. "—my boyfriend! His name is…” She hesitated. “Jin. Yeah." She cleared her throat, embarrassed. The Doctor looked back at her again, raising a brow.

"Really?" he murmured. "That’s not how it works," he added. The girl shrugged. "That man has been stalking me since this morning. Maybe knowing I’m dating you, he will leave me alone," she muttered.

"I was talking about the name!" he complained back.

"You're complaining about a name when there's a creep in front of you!" she retorted.

"Uh..." The Doctor looked back at the man. "That's not a creep, he's probably not even human," he murmured.

Y/N nodded. "Yeah, those kinds of people are inhuman," she agreed.

"No, no, I mean, he’s literally not human. Watch." He cleared his throat. "Uh...she is busy, helping me to..." He looked around, his eyes falling on a trash bin. "Rummage through the garbage!" The Doctor said, grinning confidently.

"Yeah, she will help you later," the creep replied with a chilling tone.

"See?" the Doctor spoke to Y/N. "He didn’t even react to what I said." He winked at the girl, who was getting even more confused. "Well, maybe it’s normal for him doing that..? I hope..." She started to shiver at the thought she was being protected from a creep by a madman.

The Doctor scoffed, shaking his head and turning towards the other man once again. "No," he answered.

"I said bring her here!" The latter shouted, stepping closer, a strange bluish light creeping through his skin.

"Ah-ah! There it is!" The Doctor pulled out a little object from his pocket and pointed it towards the 'creature'.

"What's that!?" Y/N asked, scared and disgusted at the same time.

"This? This is a sonic screwdriver! Very handy! Except when it comes to using it against wood... in that case, it's totally useless—"

"I meant that thing coming towards us!! Oh my, please tell me this is all a prank!" Y/N complained, in frustration, unconsciously tightening her grip on the Doctor’s arm.

The screwdriver made a strange sound, and the tip glowed purple. The creature started to whine, changing its form. It became shorter, with big eyes and black skin with glowing light blue veins pulsing through it.

"Taxot!" the Doctor exclaimed, approaching the little being, which looked paralyzed and harmless.

"What?" Y/N observed the scene from afar.

"This little dude here is a Taxot! Sulabu Planet, not so far from this solar system. They’re usually harmless, they just like to make pranks! Like those gnomes from human tales," the Doctor explained, as he studied the Taxot in front of him. "So why did you travel so much? Just for fun, huh?"

"We need the Earth," the little one replied, giggling before suddenly running away. The Doctor quickly chased it.

"Wait!" Y/N did the same.

"You shouldn’t come. Go back home!" the Doctor suggested.

"That thing was trying to get me! Why? And I want to know who you really are—"

The Doctor stopped running, something clicking in his mind, like an epiphany. He turned towards the girl, who bumped into him. She looked up at him, before stepping back, a glint of awe in her eyes.

"You know my name, I am the Doctor. I am a Time Lord from the planet Gallifrey, now lost. I am 1992 years old and I’ve changed my face 16 times. I’ve saved the Earth and the whole universe more times than you can imagine, and I’m about to do it again. If you come with me, get ready to run."

An explosion rumbled in the air as soon as the man finished his introduction. A flash appeared in the sky, which was darkening. The young woman stared at it with a mix of terror and wonder, adrenaline running in her veins.

"You’re mad, you’re probably bonkers. But," she took a breath, "let’s run."

#bts au fanfic #bts au masterlist #bts fanfic #bts #bts x reader #bts x fem!reader #bts x y/n #bts x you #Jin x reader #bts jin x reader #jin the astronaut #bts doctor who Au #jin military discharge

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beautification-tales · 11 months ago

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Ginny's heart skipped a beat as she crept down the creaky stairs of her parents' old house. The scent of freshly baked cookies and pine needles filled the air, reminding her of Christmas Eves long past. She'd been expecting this feeling, of course; she was still that same skinny college girl who used to believe in Santa Claus. But now, as she caught a glimpse of a familiar figure hunched over by the tree, she couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement and nervousness course through her veins.

Her heart raced as she approached him, her breath hitching in her throat. Santa Claus, her Santa Claus, was putting the final touches on a pile of presents under the tree. "Santa?" she whispered, her voice barely audible over the crackling of the fire. "Santa, is that you?"

He turned around slowly, his eyes twinkling behind his snowy white beard. A warm smile spread across his rosy cheeks. "Ginny!" he exclaimed, his voice full of delight. "What a surprise! Why are you up?”

She felt her cheeks flush with a mixture of embarrassment and joy. "I-I couldn't sleep," she stammered. "I wanted to see if you needed any help."

He chuckled, his belly jiggling beneath his red suit. "Oh, you don't need to worry about that, my dear. I've been doing this for quite some time, you know." He motioned for her to sit beside him on the plush rug beside the tree. "But," he added with a twinkle in his eye, "I'm always glad for some company."

As they sat there, watching the fire dance and listening to the soft crackle of the wood, Ginny found herself opening up to Santa Claus in a way she never had before. She told him about her struggles in college, about how she missed the innocence of childhood and the joy of believing in magic. And when she confessed her secret crush on him, she felt a weight lift off her shoulders.

Santa Claus chuckled warmly, his eyes twinkling. "Why, Ginny," he said, "I've always known you were a special girl. And you know what? I think you might just be the perfect person to help me out this year."

Ginny felt her heart skip a beat. "Really?" she breathed.

"Yes, really," he replied, reaching into his red suit and pulling out a small, glistening object. "I've been searching for someone to take on this role for a very long time."

He placed the enchanted cookie into her hand. It felt warm and heavy, like it was imbued with magic. "This," he explained, "is an enchanted cookie. If you eat it, it will make you my special helper.”

Ginny's eyes widened in disbelief. "Really?" she breathed.

"Really and truly," Santa Claus assured her, his voice gentle and sincere. "It will give you the magic and power to help me all Christmas Eve.”

She looked down at the enchanted cookie in her hand, feeling a mixture of awe and trepidation. She took a bite as the warm cookie tasted like cinnamon and chocolate.

As she chewed, she felt a strange sensation coursing through her body. At first, it was a tingling in her fingers and toes, like pins and needles. But then, it spread through her entire body, making her feel more alive and vibrant than she ever had before. Her breasts seemed to swell, growing larger and fuller beneath her sweater, and her hips widened, curving out in a way that made her feel incredibly feminine.

She glanced down at herself in shock, then back up at Santa Claus. He was grinning from ear to ear, his eyes twinkling with delight. "That," he said with a nod, "is the power of the enchanted cookie. It's giving you the body of a goddess.”

As she continued to stare at herself, her reflection in the tree, Ginny realized that her pajamas had completely morphed into a Santa Claus outfit. The once-plain pajama top had transformed into a tight red blouse with white plush cuffs. Her pajama pants were now a pair of shiny black panties that hugged her legs and shapely behind. She even had a pair of black boots on her feet.

Her hair, which had been tied back into a ponytail, now flowed freely around her shoulders in soft, wavy curls. She felt as if she had been transformed into a living, breathing version of one of Santa's elves. She couldn't help but smile, feeling a thrill of excitement and anticipation coursing through her.

Santa Claus chuckled, seeing the look of awe and wonder on her face. "Well, well, well," he said, clapping his hands together, "it seems my magic cookie has done its job. You look absolutely radiant, Ginny. I knew you'd make a perfect addition to my team."

He stood up and offered her a hand, helping her to her feet. She felt a newfound confidence and grace as she took his hand, their skin connecting in a warm, electric way that made her heart race. "Now then," he continued, "it's time for you to begin your training.”

Ginny looked at Santa with a hunger in her eyes. She had always loved Santa but now it seemed she wanted even more as she licked her lips. She felt the magic coursing through her but she also felt something that made her now heavy breasts tingle.

"Yes, sir," she breathed, her voice huskier than before. "I'm ready to help you, Santa."

He chuckled, his laugh filling the room. "Oh, Mrs Claus, you have no idea how much help you're going to be. You are going to make all the children happy this Christmas Eve."

#beautification #breast expansion #transformation #f2f transformation #mrs clause #bimboification #stepfordization

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wildlife4life · 1 year ago

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Fuck-it Friday

It is just past midnight where I reside, so that means its officially Friday. Normally I don't post till the sun is shining, but I am traveling today and visiting with family, so I won't have access to computer time till much much later.

Tagged by the always lovely @panbuckley, who posted a very steamy snippet. So I am going to continue this trend myself, or try to at least. Here is some very vague smut from NFL Buck.

Eddie is on the precipice of tipping over into orgasmic bliss, but a tight grip at the base of his cock, snaps him back. He cries out, "Buck please." Behind him with his own cock deep in Eddie's ass and lounging back on the dark blue sofa, Buck chuckles. Eddie feels the vibration of his delight more than he can hear it. "You didn't answer me." The younger man states. The hand not withholding Eddie's pleasure, hits the rewind button on a small black remote. The projected film in front of them reverses, pulling the figures of the players of the Chicago Bears and the Minnesota Vikings back to their pre-snap formations. "Two high safeties, 5 man rush, what should I call?" Buck repeats his earlier question with a swivel of his hips, grinding up against's Eddie's prostate. A whimper is pulled from him and Eddie squeezes his eyes shut, relishing the stimulating euphoria mixed with the pain of being held at the edge. The warm plastic of the remote is dropped on his thigh and Eddie can't hold down a moan of appreciation as Buck grips his hair, yanking his head back. "I told you to keep your eyes open. Don't want to miss anything, now do we?" He growls in his ear, nipping at the cartilage. Fuck. Having his eyes on the footage of the Chicago Bears was the whole reason Eddie joined Buck in the first place. He liked to help his boyfriend with his studies, give advice, and his own opinion on what the defense is doing and how Evan should respond. The reward for doing so, usually came after pages of a notebook had been filled and several hours of film had been watched. But the first game of the Ram's season with their new shiny quarterback was just days away and Buck was a ball of nervous energy. Working out did little to take the edge off. Video games with Christopher (and losing horribly) just added to the problem. Not even a pep talk from his personal trainer Owen Strand could help. So Buck turned to film hoping that being over prepared would ease his mind just a little. Eddie ventured into the screening room wanting to give him some relief and Evan immediately showed him how he could. A sloppy blowjob lead to Eddie's first orgasm. A seat in Buck's lap, his chest pressed tight against Eddie's back, and stretched tight around Buck's cock, has Eddie on the edge of another. He just needed to focus. Give Buck a play to beat the scheme. He needed to open his eyes and see past his pleasure. Just for a moment and then Eddie can finally fall into the inferno, with Buck just behind him. The sharp trill of Eddie's phone breaks his focus and has his eyes opening for all the wrong reasons.

Never really written man on man smut before, so I hope I'm doing something sort of right? Idk. I just wanted to put the fuck in fuck-it friday lol. But this is a scene I've had in my notes for awhile for this fic. Hope you all enjoyed!

If you want to see more NFL Buck just search under the tag nfl on my page.

Tagging (no pressure): @prince-buck-diaz @thekristen999 @thewolvesof1998 @hippolotamus @monsterrae1 @bekkachaos @911onabc @911-on-abc @alyxmastershipper @brokenribsdiaz @cowboydiazes @cowboy-buddie @lizzybizzyzzz @glorious-spoon @oliverstaark @cowboy-buck @starlingbite @housewifebuck @devirnis @spotsandsocks @jesuisici33 @forthewolves @transbuck @wikiangela @rogerzsteven @bigfootsmom @try-set-me-on-fire @homerforsure @sibylsleaves @shortsighted-owl @spaceprincessem @heartbeatdiaz @barbiediaz @princessfbi

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ginnvngagap · 1 year ago

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watching the Little Mermaid live action remake, and I'm gonna make it your problem

oooh, shiny scales, I love it

Ariel's breathtaking, I love how her hair flows in the water

her sisters are also gorgeous and their designs are amazing

CGI sea creatures look realistic but still manage to be all magical and shxt, nice

Ursula's not a drag queen (a crime tbh), but her design is so coooool

aaah, Ariel's voice (I don't watch trailers, this is my first time hearing it)

Eric has a personality?!

they gave an actual reason as to why Ariel would be attracted to Eric aside from teenage girl hormones go brrr for pretty boy

oooh, they did the cliff thing

Eric has an I want song now and his voice is heavenly

did... did they just add generational trauma to the mermaid family? great addition, I approve (yes, I've seen the prequel)

had to Google Sebastian's accent, it's Jamaican, I love it, I think it suits him

so many pretty sea creatures dancing, oooh, jellyfish

why the fxck do they swim like that?

Poor Unfortunate Souls slaps, Ursula's voice is aaaah (very eloquent)

huh, Ariel still sings in her head (good decision imo, it would've been such a waste)

Ariel doesn't like high heels and corsets, completely understandable tbh

ooof, her meeting the prince and not being able to speak was so much more devastating with the added thought singing, my baby heart, noooo 😭

apparently Ursula put a spell on Ariel that made her forget her objective of kisskissfallinlove and I don't know how I feel about that (in hindsight it makes sense, this Ariel would've totally jumped Eric's bones, lmao)

Scuttle and Sebastian's banter is fxcking hysterical

roll credits, lmao

oooh, Eric has a stuff room too

Grimsby is best boi

Ariel breaks for goats but not humans, we stan

Anakin would flip his shxt if he saw this dance scene

aaaw, Ariel taught Eric her name

Shalalalalala... You Gotta Kiss The Girl~🎶

Ursula's growly voice 😩👌

I love how Ursula's appearance on shore feels even more sinister than in the animated movie

is... is Scuttle rapping? and she has mad flow?! SEBASTIAN TOO!? also it's actual genius how Scuttle's rap sounds how you'd expect a bird rapping

human Ursula's uuuh... huuuh... 🥵

Grimsbyyy you naughty boi

she's also fxcking terrifying, holy fxckaroni

Eric's waaay too chill about Ariel turning into a mermaid right in his arms, lmao

loving the ominous ink cloud

tentacle raaave

Triton's baaack, baby 👑

I love his character design btw, that clamshell armor is so cool and shiny ✨

mermaid dad sad 🥺😭

the send-off definitely didn't make me cry, shutup

neither did Howard Ashman's name in the credits

#the little mermaid #the little mermaid 2023

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meabh-mcinness · 2 years ago

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Peppermint

(Alternatively known as 'Pest Control')

Main Masterlist

Living in the human world had meant learning tips and tricks to keep pests at bay while still enjoying small luxuries. Such as using lavender to deter bed bugs the one time you bought and forgot to clean a comforter at a thrift store, or peppermint around windows and doors to keep spiders outside. You hadn't known, of course, that such tricks could apply to pests in the Netherworld too. You couldn't decide whether you were happy or not to discover they did in fact do so.

TW! There is technically a torture scene in here? A character gets a bottle full of peppermint oil to their face, which is known to cause skin irritation and rashes on humans when used too much, and does slightly worse due to him rather special heritage and lack of exposure to it. Also light descriptions of gore, or at least I think it falls under the gore category? Maybe?

Also, PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF EVERYTHING HOLY AND UNHOLY, DO NOT TAKE THE PLANT AND OTHER FACTS AT FACE VALUE!!! I am not a trained botanist nor biologist (I haven't even started my college courses yet!) and everything in here is based on research I've found in books, oral stories, online research, and personal findings. ALWAYS check in with professionals before using or consuming something you don't know about. I use some of the things in here because it's what I grew up with, BUT it does not mean it's actually true or safe. Please take caution in the things you use!

Also, the MC in this is a tad bit of a hater of insects, which in no way reflects my views. So if you're like me and actually find the bug world terribly fascinating, you may not like some of this. Hopefully, you enjoy the rest, though! Also, there's some Shiida X reader, and Balam x reader if you squint, really hard.

The taking down of one Atori had been both incredulous and laughably easy for you.

In hindsight, you supposed it wouldn't have been as easy if you hadn't known a little bit of basic human world biology and been a bit of a hoarder.

In the human world, spiders and other bugs are a bit of (read, incredibly) a hindrance. You understood they were needed for the ecosystem to thrive, and you did enjoy a fair few (snails in particular were very cute, for example), but for the most part, they were an annoyance in your daily life. When they weren't posing a danger, that is.

To keep such annoyances at bay, you had taken to making 'herbal potions' that smelt good to you, but that most bugs hated. Even taking to wearing it as hairsprays, body oils, and lotions to keep them away from your person while working your various jobs or just going out and about. The added health benefits you gained from soft, clear skin and full, shiny hair were merely a nice bonus you wouldn't complain about.

It had been incredibly easy to squirrel away unwanted seedlings from farming gigs or dumped herbs that had fallen on the floor from your serving jobs. The thrown-away herbs were the hardest to save, but you always felt so proud to see the cuttings growing tiny roots after a few weeks in water-filled cups. Such plants were then cleaned and went through various lengthy processes depending on what you wanted at the time.

Lavender oil to spray on and around your bed, because you failed to clean one comforter from a thrift store, basil lotion to repel mosquitoes, and large amounts of various types of mint along with others. The mints were mostly used to spray around the doors, windows, and the general perimeter of your tiny home, to keep bugs from invading in the first place. You even used the extra for your hair specifically, both to promote growth and just because it smelt nice.

You had even just finished a fresh batch, of newly sealed vials and bottles in your old, patched bag to transfer when Sullivan had invaded your home and essentially kidnapped you. Granted, you had willingly gone once he motioned to a bound Iruma, but still. You had been non-too-pleased when you discovered Iruma's parents had sold both of your souls to the demon, vowing revenge if it was the last thing you did.

Regardless, because you had this batch and no bugs to use them on (Opera did an excellent job of keeping the mansion pest free, and that was assuming the Netherworld even had those kinds of bugs, to begin with), they had been delegated to strictly hair product use until you ran out.

It had been rather surprising, and humorous, for you to find out that this world had a similar-smelling plant. That apparently only high-rankers and rich folk used, due to how difficult it was to grow and harvest, along with how volatile it was, and its rather fond taste for flesh.

A misunderstanding had eventually arisen that you were as, or at least close to, as powerful as Sullivan was and simply hiding your rank when Suzie-sensei had asked how you acquired the oils. Your confusion, briefly forgetting that you were not in the human world any more, led to you confessing that you simply used to grow them from cuttings before crushing them into oils and pastes yourself, and how you were quite sad that you no longer had access to them due to moving in with Sullivan. The awed and calculating looks everyone had given you had lasted for days until the Battler party, and Iruma took centre stage again with his "fireworks".

Although you could still hear the occasional whispers about how powerful you must be to have Sullivan as a father, and, the quickly rising through the ranks, Iruma as a son. You quite often wanted to bang your head on a wall when you heard those because of that one slip of a mistake. Especially when, for your birthday, after bemoaning the fact you were running low, the Babyls teachers had banded together to get you a couple of cuttings from the actual Netherworld peppermint plant counterpart, the Geagpian.

You had quickly understood why others feared it so much. Smelling almost disgustingly minty up close, it rather reminded you of a stinking corpse lily in looks. If a stinking corpse lily was far smaller, had sharp teeth surrounding the inside of its petals and sentient vines covered in sharp hollow thorns filled with paralysing venom and grew multiple flowers along a tall cactus-like stem. The three, foot-long cuttings they had given you had apparently almost eaten Robin and a couple of curious students in the few days they were hiding it from you. When one of the Geagpian tried to do so again, your rather firm smack on its creeping vines only cemented their ideals of you being powerful when it quickly drew back again. Despite your apprehensive feelings about having such a dangerous gift, you had almost cried that they had tried to be so thoughtful.

The Geagpians were then lovingly planted in a corner of the mansion's outer garden, far away from the other plants, where you happily took care of them. The nauseating in-your-face mint smell, a small comfort of your old home. Not that you wanted to go back.

Now, though, a year into your stay here in the Netherworld, hunched over Sabro and the first years, checking them for serious injuries, as Shichirou fought Atori, you were rather glad that you had a few of your original hair oils left. And even happier that you had a full bottle in your pocket thanks to Shiida.

(You glanced up when a sudden shadow crossed over the table you were sitting at in the teacher's break room. One of the newest teachers, Shiida, you thought her name was, staring at you before flumping down in the seat next to you. You blinked in surprise before internally shrugging and going back to the book you were reading.

It was as obvious as the two moons in the night sky that the girl was bad at social interactions, and as a fellow 'no social skills' person, you could understand how hard it could be to make friends with your new co-workers. If this was her attempt to break out of her mould and make new relationships, you were most certainly not going to stop her.

You sat together in relative silence, the occasional flipping of a page in your book, the sound of fabric as she shifted, or another teacher wandering in briefly to say hello, being the only sounds to interrupt your peace. Over the course of your break, however, her shifting increased. Hands wringing together, bottom lip pulled between her teeth as she seemed to contemplate something. Taking pity on the poor girl, you slid a silk ribbon bookmark, a gift courtesy of Kalego who had been annoyed at the constant crinkling of the random papers you had shoved in between the pages, and closed your book.

"Is something bothering you, Shiida-sensei?" She startled, turning towards you with wide eyes and the slightest parting of lips. You gave her what you hoped was a comforting smile, "While I'm not certain I can help, I will certainly try."

"Your scent..." she said suddenly. You paused in surprise, not actually expecting an answer beyond 'I'm fine'.

Then your thoughts took over. Your scent? Had you forgotten your perfume today? You had been in a rush having woken up late, but no, you were certain Shichirou would have said something if you had when you joined him for a jointly taught class this morning. Or even one of the students, they weren't exactly known for keeping their mouths shut after all. (The one time you switched up scents just to try something new, everyone demanded to know if you were courting someone. That had taken forever to clear up, and you hadn't worn anything else sense.) Demons, it turned out, were especially blunt creatures by nature. Rarely talking with constant double-wording that humans so favoured unless they were especially manipulative, or a member of the succubus battler.

"It....smells good... What is...the scent?" A faint blush was appearing on her face, and she appeared to be about five seconds away from bolting. A giggle left you before you could stop it. She was actually very adorable, wasn't she?

"Oh, is that all? It's a Geagpian mixture. I grow and make it myself."

"I see... Atori-san hates it... I like it." She nodded to herself, "Where...can I find?" You blinked in surprise. Atori hated the scent of your hair oils? That explains why he always avoided you, even taking positions as far from you as possible when you had to share space in meetings. Your first meeting made exceptional sense now.

When you had first met, Atori had attempted to greet you from behind, only to get a face full of your hair when you turned around. You had assumed the rather violent reaction of his body jerking and entire face seizing up had been because of the surprise at a rather hearty amount of hair suddenly in his face.

You had long since wondered if you had offended him somehow with the hair slap, but everyone had drawn blanks because Momonoki had done the same thing only a few hours later, and much harder considering the absolute length of hair and speed she had done it with, and he was still perfectly fine with her. Though, you considered it a blessing in disguise the longer you watched him. There was just something about him that creeped you out, especially after Shichirou confessed that he was certain they were hiding something.

"I can give you some of mine to try if you would like. I have a couple of extras since it lasts for three-four years in a bottle, and I've just pruned mine to be able to make more." And hadn't that been a pain to try and figure out? You couldn't ask any of the teachers at Babyls what parts to make into the oils since they were under the impression you already knew, and most breeders were rather tight-lipped in their secrets in fear that you were a competitor.

Well until Opera decided to get involved, and then you had not only which parts were safe to use but also formulas for the best things to mix with them and brand-new equipment to get started.

"Although I'm surprised you would want to smell like me if your friend hates it."

"Friend...?" Ah, right, you had forgotten that was a human word.

"Friends are people who enjoy spending time together and help one another, but in a non-romantic or familial sense. Like how Iruma, Alice, and Clara do or Shichirou and Kalego. It's like allies but stronger, if that makes sense. If you want, we can be friends?" You held out your hand towards her and were rather reminded of the scene from the first Harry Potter film.

The longer she stared wide-eyed at your hand, the more you started to worry you would end up like Draco. Spurned before even being given a chance. Until slowly but surely her hand rose up and took yours. Eyes alight in wonder as she looks fixedly at your joined hands.

"Not friends...with Atori...forced...companionship....coworkers on various jobs...no one else....to really talk to..."

"Well, now you can talk to me!" You declared brightly, a large smile gracing your face. "Whenever you want to spend time together or need some help, just come to me and I'll be there."

"Can we...pet chicks...?"

"Of course! I'll even ask Shichirou if he knows of any petting zoos around here, and we can visit to pet lots of animals if so. And to cement this newfound friendship, how about I bring a bottle of my hair oil tomorrow to give you after the exam? As a way to celebrate our obvious winnings as well."

"I would...like that."

"Then it's a deal!")

Looking up from your position, fingering the bottle in your pocket, your mind racing with what to do. You had three terrified students, two of which were injured, and at least one deranged intruder. Potentially two if he and Shiida were working together. And wasn't that a sad thought? Your possible new friend could actually be an enemy in disguise.

Though as you watched Shichirou smack down Atori with a giant fist made of vines, you could at least be assured you wouldn't have to attempt to fight. Shichrou had it well in hand, and eveidently he thought so as well as he turned back and gave you a nod, hellphone already in hand to contact the others.

You started to turn back to the students to get them ready to be transferred when you noticed movement out of the corner of your eye. Whirling back around you saw it again. Thin shimmering strands of something were protruding out of where Atori's body lay before. You dared a glance at Shichirou who hadn't yet noticed, back still turned to the danger.

You cried out his name in panic, right before a multitude of the strands poured out and wrapped around the fallen demon. Shichirou whirled around and you both watched, stunned, as the strands seemed to undulate, as if something was moving underneath. Were...were they healing him? No, your eyes darted about the shapes, counting each one and cataloguing how they move.

It wasn't healing Atori, it was changing him.

You risked another glance at Shichirou who was still standing there surprised. He wasn't doing anything, why wasn't he doing anything? Strike, burn, crush, something before-!

The threads tore apart, and your gaze was forced back to the suddenly mutated body before you. Atori stood slowly, shakily rising, his body with that came equipped with two extra sets of limbs. He hadn't just changed slightly, he had metamorphised. Like....like a bug, you suddenly realized. A giant spider that had been humanized.

Your hands flexed around the bottle in your pocket again. Should you? Could you? There was no guarantee it would do anything, and even if it did, you only had one shot. One shot to make this work when you were lucky to throw something straight on your best days. But would it even work, or would you just be in the way?

Shiida's words rang in your mind, "Atori-san hates it". If that were true and really what reason would she have to lie about that of all things? If he really did hate it and that was before the change, then maybe...just maybe.

You forced yourself out of your thoughts right as Atori started to bring his hand up. Your hand clench around the bottle harder, bringing it out of your pocket as your body moved to exit the egg shaped shield Shichirou had thrown up in the beginning. All thoughts focused on your task, it never registered that you shouldn't have been able to leave it all, and yet your body flowed through like it wasn't even there.

You had seconds, Atori's hand already at his mouth, lips forming an o-shape as if blowing. You saw it in slow motion as more threads, webs, spurred out and flew at Shichirou’s face. Sliding past him, you ducked underneath, far from the splash zone, and continued on your way. You could already see Atori starting to turn to get away. You were so close, just a little more, and there! Hand whipping out, you felt the bottle leave you, flying in an arch right towards its target.

Smack!

The bottle struck the side of Atori's head, glass shards flying as the liquid poured out directly onto his skin. His loud screech of pain echoed across the courtyard, pausing in his retreat to use his multiple hands to scratch at his face. You watched horrified, scrambling backwards again to get towards safety, as Atori fell to his knees, screams never fading. You felt large hands grab at your arms and almost panicked until you saw the tale-tell sign of green gloves. Shichirou.

You let yourself be pulled against his chest as he jumped further away from the still screeching demon, more vines being produced to wrap around Atori's body once more. This time staying there to hold him in place. With Atori's arms held in place and no longer covering his face, you finally saw what damage you had done. The entire right side of his face was bright red and bulging, some areas far darker than others, an obvious sign of where the oils had hit first and stayed the longest. His left eye, that was still open, rolled about its socket manically as if he couldn't focus it at all.

Once a considerable distance away, Shichirou put you down, but still hovered about directly behind you. You stood frozen, still staring at the carnage you had wrought on the spider demon. Completely ignoring the gargoyle behind you as he tried to check you over, a rant about dangers spilling from his lips, your eyes stayed locked on Atori. Adrenaline making it, so you couldn’t take your eyes away from the possible danger. It wasn’t until Shichirou forced your head to look at him that you finally took your gaze away.

“Are you alright?” He asked softly. Were you? No, you were not alright. Your senses, still so high-strung, still screamed of danger. That turning your back was perilousness. All of your inner instincts clamouring and fighting to rip out of you and take care of the threat. Or at least run away.

To run...run? Run! Your entire body jerked forward instinctively, Shichirou's arms wrapping around you, his wings bursting forth in a flurry of feathers ready to block whatever was coming to your back as he lept away again. Your hands clutched his shirt tightly, eyes scrunching shut in fear at being so exposed and not being able to see the danger, much less attack back. Pulse racing, you waited for the attack to hit.

Only, it never did.

There was a loud cracking noise, that rather reminded you of bones snapping, and a pained yowl by the time Shichirou touched down again. Most of his body stayed tense, but the arms holding you loosened just enough that you could look to see what happened. Turning around, the first thing you noticed was Shiida, with a rather more exposed outfit than you remembered seeing her in this morning, lowering her leg back toward the ground. Stepping on top of a knocked-down Atori, a spray of web trailed from his mouth to fall only a few inches short of where you had been. She easily dug her heel into his back, exactly where you assumed his wing roots were...

"You will....not hurt....my friend," Shiida growled, digging her foot further into his back. His body spasmed out of instinct, but it was obvious to tell from the way his body had fallen, she had fully snapped his spine.

"Shiidaaaaa..." Atori growled out, "How… could you?!"

"Friends help...one another...when needed... You...threatened friend... I end...the threat," Shiida explained before locking eyes with you, "I help...my friend."

My allegiance lies with you.

Your eyes teared up from all the emotions stirring in you like a cyclone, the most prominent being relief and something akin to affection blooming across your chest. You understood her message and nodded at her with a watery smile.

A wall of fire surrounded the four of you, followed by what appeared to be a wall of flower guns crawling up the side of the building, Ifirit-sensei and Suzy-sensei. You heard the door to the side of you slam open and the pounding of footsteps as more and more teachers filed in as backup.

Your body almost collapsed from the amount of relief that flowed through you, and if Shichirou’s arms weren’t still holding you close, you probably would have. You and the others were safe, there was simply no way Atori could take on the entire staff of Babyls if he had issues with two, technically three, of you. When the heavy pressure of Sullivan’s aura arrived long before you saw his tall, lean form, it merely confirmed what you already knew.

Atori would not be getting away this day.

"Hey, Shichirou?" He hummed in response, Shiida walking closer to you guys after finally getting off of Atori’s battered body, and Sullivan got to work questioning him. "Do you know of any petting zoos around here? Specifically, one with chicks?"

The crazed look he gave you was more than worth the slightly hysterical laugh that left your throat as he went about checking your head for injuries.

Cross posted on Wattpad and AO3!

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