#never have an image when i need it the most (friend wearing little yellow shorts)

[breaddo]

whenever i make a delusional post saying that in terms of gender im like [some italian musician fuck] if they worked a min wage job i mean like a combination of whatever this is

[navstuffs]

Secret Admirer

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x GNLibrarian!Reader

Summary: It is fall, and Leon Kennedy has a secret admirer.

Warning tags:  ROOTH TOOTING FLUFF, college au, leon wears glasses, shy!reader&leon, leon self depreciates a bit

Author's Notes: hiii. though where i live fall doesn’t exist (i swear, we are all being cooked alive at this point), im happy to write something to welcome fall! dedicated to @sarahs-secrets2 whose birthday is tomorrow! happy birthday, my friend!! thank you for being such an amazing friend to me, you are the best!! also i won't lie, i might be working on a small drabble for a smutty second part (flannel shirts, all im saying). dividers by @firefly-graphics. images found on pinterest and edited on faceapp.

leon's masterlist

It all starts right at the beginning of fall.

Leon Kennedy never considered himself the type of guy someone could deeply fall in love with. In his own opinion, he has always been an average kind of guy. A little shy, with a pair of black glasses in front of his eyes since he couldn't see long or short distances.

Since entering college and breaking up with his first (and only) girlfriend, romance wasn't clearly in his plans. He had to focus on his studies to become a lawyer and pass the bar exam. Unlike his colleagues, who partied every Friday, Leon was busy with his head inside books—most of the time.

There is also another weighting factor: Leon had a merit-based scholarship. It is not something he would tell someone, but it meant he had worked his ass off to get there, prove himself to stay there every semester. He couldn't waste his time with anything, especially with romance.

Leon enters the already chilly Friday, his scarf close to his face. For some reason, fall had arrived earlier, and he couldn't be more grateful. The library is almost empty, except for a few students here and there. He goes to his usual spot, between two tall bookshelves, a seat at the very end, hidden from the rest of the world. Before he can get there, a smiling familiar face carrying a few books in their arms appears in his path: you, who worked in the library and was always ready to help students whenever needed.

"Back already?" You joke, whispering. Leon feels his blush spread, smiling back.

"You know me, can't stay away too long."

You giggle, seeming equally flustered. There is a moment of silence where you two stare at each other, saying nothing else. Then, you handle Leon one of the books from your arms.

"Here. This just arrived today. I hope it can be helpful."

Before Leon can answer, you leave, waving, without looking directly at his face. Leon walks to his usual spot, removes his jacket, and hangs on the chair before placing the book on the table. He sits, opens the first page, and finds a yellow post-it with something written on it. Leon then takes his glass case out of his backpack, changing his distance ones to the reading ones. Yeah, he was one of those blessed ones who couldn't see far away or close. There it was, written in blue ink:

"Hi! I hope I don't scare you by writing this, but I just wanted to let you know you are adorable!" 

Leon's eyebrows raise as he looks around. Most students in there have their heads on their books. You had given this book to him earlier, so maybe? No, Leon realizes. So many other students have probably read it before. Wait, but didn't you say the book just arrived today? Well, it could have been a donation, and someone left it there.

Without making much noise, Leon gets up to look for you behind your front desk. You seem focused but promptly raise your head when you see Leon coming.

"Hey. Something wrong?" Your face is blurred, and Leon suddenly realizes he didn't change into his long-distance glasses.

"Yeah. Someone left this note in the book. Just wanted to give you a heads up."

"Oh." Leon handles the book for you, and he can't quite figure out your expression due to the lack of proper glasses. "I guess it came with the donation."

"Yeah. Probably." You whisper back in a strange tone. Leon gives you a slight nod before returning to his usual spot. Well, that was odd, but he didn't have time to think much about it. He needed to remain focused anyway.

Next Friday comes, and the temperatures slowly start dropping, which comes with a relief to Leon. He hates the heat, despises how the Earth is warming up, and nobody seems to give a damn about it. The view to the campus Library looks so pretty now: straight out from a book, orange leaves on the floor, crunching as Leon walks over them. It was one of his favorite Autumn activities when he was a kid—that and carving pumpkins. The only problem with the sudden chilly weather was his glasses getting fogged, but hey, it seemed like a fair trade.

He arrives near the library's building, finding you outside. You are wearing a deep green sweater with some trees drawn on it. On the top of your head, a cute black hat protects your ears. Leon can't help but smile when he notices you rub your hands and arms.

"It is not even that cold yet." Leon teases as he gets close. You look back at him, startled but happy to see him.

"Says the one with the heavy jacket and a scarf!"

"Hey!" Leon complains, pretending to be insulted. "At least this is better than the heat we had before, right?"

"Yeah."

Before Leon can walk in and leave you alone, he asks, his curiosity peaking.

"Hey, so what about that note from last week? Discovered where it was from?"

"Oh." You seem taken aback by his question before shrugging, "I don't know. I threw it away anyway. Nothing important."

Leon nods before waving and walking into the warmth of the library. It is as empty as last week, which Leon prefers. He goes to his usual spot, noticing the yellow post-it on top of his table. Leon rushes to grab it and read. It is written in the same blue ink as before.

"Just wanted to wish you a good week. I admire you from afar, hoping you achieve all your goals!"

Leon's first reaction is to look for you, show you the new note, and believe again this is a mistake. But then he ponders, his curiosity speaking louder. No, he isn't interested in romance, nor does he have time for it. But, if those notes are really, really meant for him, why? He isn't that special or someone who should have secret admirers. Leon has always been curious, so he places the note in his pocket.

In the weeks following, he ends up receiving more and more notes. They are on top of his desk, under the desk, near the wall, always visible so he can find them. And since the first two ones, they have started to come signed with "Your Secret Admirer." It can't just be a coincidence at this point.

"You are doing amazing, and I hope you continue to do so! - Your secret admirer."

"I wish I could say how much I admire you to your adorable face! - Your secret admirer."

"It makes me so happy to see you pursuing your dream; it gives me the courage to pursue mine! - Your secret admirer."

"One of these days, I will gather the courage to invite you out, but until then, I keep thinking about you as I look at the stars."

Leon's suspicions are towards someone inside the library, of course. His first thought is you, but it simply can't be. You are too bright, too cute, too funny for him. Deep down, Leon wishes it was you; he might have harbored a tiny crush on you since the first time you helped him, but he knows it can't be. His other suspicions are the other people in the library, but he barely knows them, except for an eventual nod or "hello" here and there.

It is finally time for the first week of exams, and the library is getting crowded. Leon arrives earlier that Friday and, for a miracle, can find his spot empty and, sadly, no note this time. He tries not to concentrate on his disappointment, focusing on his studies when, in the corner of his eyes, he comes into the corridor. You look dressed for a freezing winter, rushing toward Leon with something in your hands. When you see him, you stop in your tracks, your eyes slightly going wide. Then you turn around, leaving in the other direction. 

Much later that night, Leon walks to the front desk. You look busy but still manage to give him a tired smile.

"Getting crazy over here, huh."

"Yeah. It is time for the tests, so people can go a little crazy." You explain, shrugging. You look anxious, but Leon presumes it relates to the agitated week. "Hey, do you mhm like pumpkin chocolate brownies?"

"Sure?" Leon's stomach grumbles as you pull out something from your drawer. He hadn't had something to eat since he came to the library three hours ago. Two small pumpkin chocolate brownies, probably from the candy shop near the campus. "Thanks, I haven't eaten anything today."

"Just don't eat here, okay?" You wink, smiling.

Leon holds them, staring at your table as you return your attention to your work. A pile of books is nearby and more on the other side of the table. His attention is drawn to a small yellow paper folded so many times. He gathers his courage and opens his mouth to finally ask you what he has been dying to ask you this whole time.

"Hey, is it you my—?"

"Excuse me, can you help me find this book?" A female student calls your attention, interrupting Leon. You didn't seem to have heard anything, Leon asked, excusing yourself to help the stressed lady. 

Leon watches his surroundings. He shouldn't think about that, but his body works faster than his mind. Leon grabs the yellow folded paper and runs away without looking back, his whole face red. Did he just steal something? 

When he is out of the library range, he stops near a street light and frantically opens the post-it, his hands shaking, not due to the cold. Could it be you? Could it be really you? Leon reads it once. Then twice.

"Hey, I know you have been studying so hard. Here, have some pumpkin chocolate brownies to sweeten your night and give you some luck for the tests!- Your Secret Admirer."

So, it is you. Leon re-reads the sentence over and over again, thinking of different possibilities. It could have been an accident, right? Someone else could have brownies for him, some other secret admirer. But so specific like that?

"Stop. You are overreacting." Leon whispers to himself, placing the note in his jacket pocket. He looks back towards the library, half of him demanding for him to go back in there and face you. Wasn't Leon that wanted to have been you this whole time? Keeping all the notes even though they might not be for him? Wasn't he even considering opening an exception for this rule just because of you?

Leon will make a decision. Not tonight, no. Tonight, he will enjoy the feeling of knowing you are his secret admirer. 

Two weeks pass, and you don't see Leon. You wonder where he is since the last time he almost caught you placing the brownies and the note on his desk. You should have known he would arrive earlier since Leon has been so responsible about his studies (something you admired about him). Not coming for two weeks? You wonder if he was sick. Or maybe Leon chose to study in his dorm since the library had been so crowded lately.

After helping an agitated first-year who couldn't find a Math book, you walk back to your table and find a Pumpkin bookmark there. You turn it around, finding a sentence in beautiful handwriting: "Some say Autumn isn't the season of love, but I disagree when I have Fallen for you. - Your Not-So-Secret-Admirer?"

You feel your cheeks heating up, immediately thinking about Leon and finding him right before you, his entire face red as a tomato. You open your mouth and close it, unsure what to say.

"Sorry. I hope that didn't scare you."

"N-no! You didn't!" You reply loud enough to get some "sshhh." You shut your mouth, looking apologetic towards Leon, who smiles.

"Would you like to go out with me? There is a harvest fair nearby, and I was wondering if we could..."

"I would love to." You rush to answer, whispering. "If I don't disturb your studies, of course."

"Nope, not a problem."

Some might say nothing grows during Autumn. The leaves fall as the plants prepare for another winter until spring gives them life again, and the cycle repeats. Well, some things can bloom during Autumn, as Leon Kennedy's smile to you is enough proof of that.

[borninwinter81]

DIY budget cyber/industrial outfit - first time in public!

I made a couple of previous posts about this dress here and here, as well as the matching collar, and I thought it would be fun to show how I styled it when I wore it for the first time on Friday. Honestly I was a little concerned it would just look dumb, but when I tried it with the full makeup and shoes I was pleasantly surprised at how much I liked it.

Apologies for the abysmal photo quality, especially in the first image. I don't have a good camera and I wanted to try and show the full outfit. That blurred mirror selfie is the only head to toe picture I got.

I didn't mention in my other posts but in addition to making patches for the dress I also nipped in the seams so it fit me better (it was my size but kinda shapeless, and I wanted to give myself a waist). This is very easy to do with almost any dress, skirt or top, you just put the garment on inside out, pinch in the side seams so they fit the contours of your body (try and do this equally on both sides) and pin them together. Safety pins are best so you don't accidentally hurt yourself.

Take the garment off and draw a smooth line with tailors chalk connecting all the pins, then sew along that line, either with a machine or by hand. Turn right side out and try it on again. Provided you're happy with the fit, trim away the excess fabric. You may need to be careful if it's a fabric that could fray - I usually go over the seams again with a zig-zag machine stitch to try and minimise this. There are also products you can buy like fray-check. If in doubt, or there isn't much excess fabric you could just leave the seams untrimmed.

The length is a little out of my comfort zone so I wore gym shorts underneath to help myself feel less exposed and reduce the risk of flashing - I tend to do this with any dress or skirt that's above the knee anyway.

Continuing the budget theme, rather than buying any new accessories (again, cyber stuff is mega expensive) I looked through my wardrobe for items I already had that might work.

These goggles are not the usual kind of cyber goggles, but they matched everything else I was wearing. I was given them by a friend who was getting rid of them ages ago so they cost me nothing!

I really didn't feel like making and wearing cyberlox, so instead I just got some yellow hair elastics and did a ponytail.

I made these arm warmers about 12 years ago. You can probably tell that they began life as a pair of skinny jeans. To cut down on the amount of sewing I needed to do I used the existing hem and seams. After cutting them to a length I liked I did the pinch and pin thing to make them fit to my arm, and put in zips along the outer seam to make them easier to put on. As it turned out this wasn't necessary because the fabric is stretchy enough that I can pull them on and off. The zips add a nice bit of visual interest though.

I ripped a hole in each one for my thumb, and I had a pack of extra large hook-and-eyes, so I sewed the "eye" parts down them and added some old bootlaces. I've never been 100% happy with this decoration, but I haven't had any inspiration on how to change them in the last 12 years.

I wanted a necklace in addition to the collar, and couldn't think of anything more appropriate than this. I originally got it for a cosplay, Vasquez from Aliens, and with the big yellow industrial loader from the end of that movie which Ripley uses to fight the Queen alien... it seemed there was kind of a connection there.

I once met Jeanette Goldstein whilst dressed as Vasquez and told her she was my childhood hero and she signed these tags, but unfortunately most of the signature has come off when I was cleaning them.

Lastly, the boots. As with any goth outfit the footwear tend to be the most expensive, particularly if you want ridiculous platform heels like these.

When it comes to footwear, I really would not recommend any alternative brand names like Killstar, Koi or similar. They're often terrible quality, the heels will snap, the soles will peel off, zips will break. In my opinion the only decent specifically alternative shoe brand are New Rock (even they're lower quality than they used to be in the 90s) and although New Rock do make heels I wouldn't wear them often enough to justify spending £200 on a pair. I prefer flats the majority of the time!

The brand of these is Funtasma, and I believe they are intended for use by pole-dancers, meaning they're decent quality and will be up to a night of dancing in a club. I took a change of shoes along with me to put on at the end of the evening but they are surprisingly comfortable for the first few hours.

I got them about 15 years ago on sale, and at that time they were around £40. Not cheap but not super expensive either, and I've definitely got my money's worth out of them. I had them re-soled once with special toughened soles that have extra grip so they're safer to walk in, but that's it. One time I even did the 3 mile walk home at 2am in 6 inches of snow wearing these because I didn't want to wait hours for a taxi (an occasion where I did not take a change of shoes!)

So, not your standard cyber outfit, but one that gives my own spin on this look (which should be the goal with any fashion style - a guideline to create something unique, not a rulebook that you have to follow 100%) and was put together super cheaply. The only new things I bought were the dress, fabric to make the patches, and a pack of multicoloured hair elastics.

[fanfic-me-up]

Capture This! || Kaminari Denki

Synopsis: You walk in on Denki, your best friend of five years, getting off. Two questions: Why is there a picture of you? And why do you want him to take more? 

Pairing: Kaminari Denki x fem!reader

Warnings: M/E+, 18+, explicit sexual content

Word Count: 6k+

A/N: This is for the @bnhabookclub​ bingo event! Thank you @shoutogepi​ and @im-here-for-the-heroes​ for beta reading. Shout out to @whats-her-quirk​ this fic was born from me poppin in during your thirst hours lol

“Lotion? Check. Tissues? Check. Pictures?” 

Denki swallows. 

“Check.”

It’s routine for Denki, really the only ritual he sticks to in his otherwise scatterbrained schedule of kickin’ ass, chilling with friends, and playing Fortnite till ungodly hours of the morning.

But he can’t help it. You’re fucking gorgeous, and Denki has needs - his brain programmed to get off at least three times a day else he can’t function. The first time it happened, he felt a deep sense of shame, twisting his gut, disgusted with himself that he defiled your image. He couldn’t look you in the eye for a week until you had enough and demanded to know what was up. It was the first time he lied to you. 

But one time became two, and three, and suddenly Denki needed an image of you all the time. The one of you looking all pretty in that stupid summer dress was his favorite. You bought it that one time you dragged him to the mall because you needed a “guy’s opinion.” He rushed to the bathroom because if he didn’t get out fast, he was gonna drag you back into the changing room and rip that dress off himself.

You’re adorable, hot, sexy, and absolutely terrifying, wrapped up in one perfect package.

Oh, and did he forget to mention?

Totally off-limits.

This is why Denki has to resort to hanging out with you, listening to you vent about your boy problems, and how you just want to meet “the one” already. Denki’s heart breaks a little more every time you shove him deeper into the friend zone, all the while pretending like he didn’t just jerk it to you a couple hours before.

He works his hand up and down his shaft, growing harder by the second with each stroke. It doesn’t take much to get him going, not when it’s you. You’re wearing his hoodie, toes buried in the sand, roasting a marshmallow in front of a bonfire. You’re smiling at something Kirishima said, Denki doesn’t remember what, because all he could see was the light in your eyes. A genuine spark lit only when the cameras were off, and you were unaware of anyone watching. Denki loved witnessing these rare moments; wanted to commit it to memory, so he did. When you posted the picture on Instagram, Denki was more than surprised; you had scrunched your nose when he showed you the picture, displeased with how you looked.

This should not be happening. Any normal person would feel ashamed when staring at a picture of their best friend and touching themselves. No one knew about it, and Denki was surprised he was able to keep it a secret for this long considering he’s friends with fucking Mina of all people.

Enough pre-cum bubbles at the tip that he doesn’t even need the lotion. Staring at you on the screen, wearing his hoodie that’s way too big it covers your thighs completely, makes his mind wander to all sorts of ways he wishes he could get you out of that hoodie. He leans back into the chair, spreading his legs with his eyes half-lidded, imagining what your lips might look like wrapped around his cock. 

“Fuck yeah...”

Groaning at the image of you on your knees, lips bruised and slicked with spit from fucking your pretty little mouth has Denki tightening his fist, hips fucking into his hand in a continuous rhythm. 

He’s on the verge of coming when the door swings open - the first and last person Denki wants to walk in is standing there in front of him.

“Hey, I called, but you didn’t - ah!” You squeak, throwing the box you’re holding. A sea of random knick-knacks and hero merch rains over you. You hear a thump when the yellow polaroid camera you bought for Denki at a thrift shop hits the floor. 

“Fuck!” Denki jumps from his chair, an array of pens fall in a heap to the floor. 

You whip your head away, heat spikes your body, embarrassed that you saw your best friend in such a compromising position. 

Denki mutters a repeated “shit shit shit” to himself for a good minute before he finally addresses you; his voice rising with each word.

“How did you get in here!?”

“Spare key, dumbass!” 

“That’s for emergencies only!”

“Are you talking to me with your dick out!?”

Silence.

“No?”

You huff at the uncertainty in his tone. It’s only two o’clock, and you can already feel a migraine coming on.

“Denki, if I turn around and you’re not covered, so help me god I will-”

“Okay, okay, I got it. Pants are zipped.” 

You don’t move until you hear the confirming “zip” before slowly opening your eyes (you have no idea why your eyes were closed in the first place), and you turn around to find Denki leaning against the desk. He’s trying his best to appear casual, but the flush on his face and frazzled hair give away what he was doing moments before you walked in. You don’t know where it comes from, but the thought alone stirs something inside you.

The confusing emotion is replaced by hot-blooded anger when you lock eyes on the screen behind him.

“Is that my face!?” 

Denki’s smile drops as he turns around. Dammit. Of course, he forgot to close the tab.

“Uhhh…”

He has no words, none, not when you’re standing there with that intense look in your eyes you get when you’re about to rip someone a new one. Your anger could rival Bakugou’s, and Denki has unfortunately been in the middle of one too many screaming matches. He’s surprised his eardrums aren’t blown out by now.

He clicks to exit out, or at least he thinks he does until he comes to the dumb realization that he’s clicking the zoom button instead. 

“Ho-hold on, let me just…” 

With each click, it zooms a little more into your face until only your nose is in the frame. Denki sheepishly looks up at you.

“Oops?”

Denki’s had a good life. He’s already come farther than most ever dream in their career when becoming a pro-hero, and he’s made some amazing friends most spend years trying to find. The only regret of his is not confessing his true feelings to you, but really what’s one regret? He’s totally a-okay with saying goodbye to this cruel, cruel world if it meant not being subjected to this torture any longer. 

“Denki Kaminari.”

Denki gulps. Oh no. You only say his full name when you mean business. 

“Explain right this instant or I will walk out this door and tell the whole world how you and grape boy took body shots off cardboard cutouts of each other!”

“Hey! We were really fuckin’ drunk and thought it might score us some pity sex with the ladies!” 

“In what world would you licking fuckin’ Mineta equal oh yeah, fuck me, Denki?”

Denki cowers with each step you take, gulping down the lump in his throat when your face is close enough to hold in his hands. He’s never been more simultaneously turned on and terrified in his life. Especially when he just heard the words “fuck me, Denki” escape your lips.

Don’t look down. Don’t look down. Whatever you do. Don’t. Look. Down.

The last thing he wants is you flinging him out the window because he couldn’t keep his eyes on your face. Don’t get him wrong; he could look at your face forever, even when you look like your one move away from killing him. But… he’s a dude, and there’s boobs in front of him, not to mention your boobs.

“Hello? Earth to Denki?” You wave your hand in his face.

“You may wanna sit down for this.” 

“I’m fine where I am, thank you very much.” 

He huffs out a breath, annoyed you didn’t take the bait. The suggestion was more for his sanity than yours. With you standing so close, his brain is going haywire; the tantalizing scent of strawberries and cream short-circuiting his brain quicker than when he overuses his quirk. It never fails to make his mouth water, if only he could bend down and bury his nose in the crook of your neck, god, he’d never let you go.

How does he even begin to work through the feelings he has for you when they’ve been bottled up since the moment he knew he was in deep? Where does he start?

The fact he’s been in love with you for the past five years? 

Or that he’s been getting off to you for half that time? 

Denki’s mind is running a mile a minute, like a computer in overdrive. He can’t make enough sense of his emotions to convert into words. But, instead of waiting to open his mouth, like a normal person, Denki spews out embarrassing word vomit that connects his two thoughts.

“I love getting off to you.”

A pin could drop, and it’d be as loud as a freaking hurricane. 

Denki groans in frustration, facepalming his forehead. What the hell did he just say, and can he take it back? How long would it take for him to hack into a database and find someone with a time manipulation quirk? He doesn’t even know how to hack, but he’d wrangle his one brain cell and fucking learn if that’s what it takes.

He’s usually good at reading you. You’re one of the few people he cares enough to pick up on how you’re feeling. The myriad of emotions that pass on your face from shock to confusion to a hint of amusement lets Denki know he can breathe easy. At least you’re not trying to kill him anymore.

“Oh-kay that’s not what I - what I meant to say was - hold on, lemme just, rewind.”

He makes some weird, loopy gesture with his arms. His brain was firing a million synapses at once, each connected to a different thought, some deep like the fear of losing you and some not so deep - like he’s really excited to eat the cheeseburgers Bakugou promised he’d grill tonight. 

But he tries his best to reign in the million and one thoughts to focus on you, who’s waiting for an explanation. He takes a deep breath to steady his heart that’s about to beat out of his chest. He only hopes you don’t stomp on it after what he’s about to say.

“I’m in love with you, Y/N. I have been since our first year at U.A. I wanted to tell you for the longest time, but then you got with Bakugou. Then you broke up, and you needed a friend more than ever, and how could I say no to being ‘your best bro’ when you were crying on my shoulder? It was just never the right time.”

The more he rambled, the more uncomfortable he felt. Out of all the scenarios he imagined of how he’d confess to you, this one was at the bottom of his list to be prepared for. He never expected to be forced into confessing because you caught him masturbating to pictures of you. He rubs the back of his neck and gives an awkward laugh when you stay silent.

“I get it if you wanna, like, shun me forever or something. I deserve it for being such a creep.” 

Denki lowers his head to the floor, the clutter of fallen pens and knick-knacks looks way less intimidating than staring into your eyes. A soft hand touches his chin, lifting his face to meet yours.

“Hey, look at me, it’s okay.” 

Your voice does wonders for soothing the nerves shaking him up.

“I guess it’s not that creepy when you put it like that, and for some weird reason, you’re like the one person I can catch jacking off to my pictures, and I don’t feel the need to report you as a registered sex offender.”

It’s meant to be reassuring, but Denki’s heart drops at the idea of you labeling him as the neighborhood perv.

“Please, don’t do that,” he squeaks before clearing his throat, “But for real, Y/N, I’m so sorry. It’s wrong to disrespect you like that, and I promise I won’t do it again.”

Denki has no idea how he’s gonna get off now, but that’s his future self’s problem.

“I can’t help it, you’re gorgeous, and I love ya, and I don’t remember the last time I got laid.”

Fuck. He didn’t mean to say that last part, but it’s the truth. You’re the reason he couldn’t even look at another girl, because they weren’t you, and that’s why he had to resort to pulling up pictures of you. Pictures that aren’t normally deemed “sexy” and of you dressed modestly, without much skin showing.

That doesn’t stop Denki from coming in record time with your name rolling off his lips every time.

“How bad do you want me?”

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t the least bit curious about what sex with your best friend would be like. You heard he wasn’t a bad lay from a couple girls back at U.A. 

You’d also be lying if you didn’t say you were just as horny as said best friend.

It’s difficult finding time to date as a pro-hero. When you do, it doesn’t last very long anyway - the other person growing tired of always coming second to your career. Don’t even get you started on one night stands. They’re practically impossible to uphold as once the media gets wind of it, you’re slapped on the cover of “Hero Times Magazine,” and everyone and their mother is calling for you to “spill the tea.” This is why pro-heroes either end up with other pro-heroes or end up alone. 

Denki’s eyebrows shoot straight to his hairline. If someone were to tell him you were attracted to him in any sense of the word, his heart would double-time it, but he’d ultimately brush it off. He knew your type, and he could not be farther from it. The aggressive, beefy, gym rat who could match you move for move in a heated spar of harsh words and hot-blooded passion. You dated Bakugou for fuck’s sake! There was no hope for Denki after that.

But he’ll be damned if he doesn’t take what he can get. The words pour out of him like the dam’s been broken and the unforgiving flood rushes.

“I want you so bad, Y/N, fuck, I’ve waited so long, so fucking long, you don’t know how crazy you make me.” 

Your breath catches. His words have an unexpected effect on you, but your heart drums in anticipation. If you listen close enough, you can hear Denki’s beating at the same rate, waiting for what you’re going to say next. Power surges through you. In your past relationships, sex was always seen as this competition. Your exes never wanted to relinquish their pride or control, but Denki is nothing like your exes. He’s laid-back, always cracking jokes, and never dwelling too much on the past, always moving forward to the next moment. He’s perfectly fine with letting you take the reins most of the time. You determine what will happen next.

“You love getting off to me?”

It’s a rhetorical question, but he answers in earnest.

“You’re the only one I get off to.”

You slide your dress off, and it falls to the floor.

“Show me.”

Denki’s eyes travel over your body, his mouth slightly open in disbelief at your undressed state. He wants to capture this moment in case this is as much as he gets, even if he can never use this mental picture because he promised you he wouldn’t. His fingers itch to brush along the lace trim of your bra, to graze along your nipple, and watch your reaction. Are you sensitive enough where you’d full on moan, or would he have to strain to catch the small hitch of breath? Denki was never top of his class. He preferred to wing it and hope for the best, but for you, he’d take his time to study every inch and crevice of your body until he could read you cover to cover with his eyes closed. His gaze travels down to the matching lace panties you wear, a cute little bow in the front waiting to be untied with his teeth. 

Did you plan to get fucked today? Or do you usually wear matching sets on the regular? 

Your skin looks so soft and supple, he’s aching to dig his fingers, but before he can, you step away. Denki cocks his head. Have you changed your mind? But any doubt leaves Denki when you make your way across the room to sit down on the edge of the bed. 

You start with feather-light touches dancing along your collarbone. Your eyes are locked on Denki, getting high on the way he drinks in your every move. Your touches are teasing, especially when your finger dips down to your cleavage. Still, instead of giving Denki what he wants, you change course, making your way back to your shoulders. Denki exhales a breath at your teasing, but says nothing, too afraid he’ll ruin the mood if he says something stupid. 

When you make your way down again, you don’t disappoint; you pinch your nipple through your bra, and the way Denki swipes his tongue over his lip has heat rushing to your core. You slide your hand down your stomach, stopping when you reach your clothed slit. Denki stares, hungry and buzzing in anticipation for what you’ll do next. Smirking in victory, you spread your legs open and pull your panties to the side, giving him the view to capture the perfect picture of your dripping pussy.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” 

You taunt breathlessly, tracing your folds with your fingers.

Oh shit. Were you for real? Please, tell him you were for real because he legit might cry if this was some elaborate prank. Where are the fucking cameras? 

“You don’t want to?” You bite your lip, insecurity seeping through the confident smile you wore just a moment ago.

“No! I mean - yes! Yes, I do, holy shit, let me find - where the fuck is…” Denki whips around, trying to find his phone. Fuck! Out of all the times to misplace it, it has to be now. But then he spots the yellow polaroid camera sitting on the floor, and before he can think, he’s picking it up and praying it has film. He kneels, so he’s eye level with your pussy, but also making sure the angle gets your whole body in the frame. The light streaming in gives you an ethereal look, your skin glowing, and adding to the cute flush on your cheeks. The camera clicks, and a second later, the picture slides out. You giggle at Denki’s impatience. He’s waving the picture frantically in the air, so the color comes through faster. He completely stills when he can finally take a good look at the beauty he’s captured.

“Fuck, Y/N, you look…” 

Denki can’t control the groan that escapes. He looks back up at you, eyes darkened with lust before he’s ripping his shorts off so fast, his foot gets caught, and he almost trips in the process. Once he’s out of them, he plops back down in the chair across the room. You’re surprised when all you feel is pure, unadulterated lust. You expected to be at least a little bit weirded out staring at your best friend’s cock, but all you want is to put it in your mouth and explore all the different ways you can make him come. The tip is oozing pre-cum already, and the way he works his hand with a sense of urgency suggests he’s been hard for a while. It doesn’t take long before you hear Denki grunt.

“Fuck, I’m close.”

You look so pretty spread out for him. For the last five years, he wanted nothing more than to see you like this. His hips jerk up, and he throws his head back, but he makes sure to keep his eyes open like his life depended on it; he didn’t want to miss a second of this. You, with your legs wide open giving him a view of your perfect little pussy. Your panties soaked by you rubbing your clit mercilessly, and your pupils blown wide as you watch your best friend get off to the show you’re giving him. It’s erotic as hell, completely different from the pictures Denki has of you. This one easily tops all the others. He tightens his fist - he doesn’t want it to end without feeling your skin on his at least once.

“Let me touch you, Y/N, please, I just wanna touch you, need to feel you.” 

Denki doesn’t give a fuck that he’s begging at this point. He’s waited too damn long to care about pride or dignity, not when the chance to fuck you is placed in his shaking hands. You bite your lip to suppress a moan, but it comes out anyway.

“Touch me.” 

That’s all Denki needs. Before you know it, you’re pushed down on the bed, and lips smash against yours. He’s eager, a little too eager, shoving his tongue in your mouth and touching everywhere that he can. You don’t have much room to breathe, so you gently push at his chest.

“Chill, Denki.”

He huffs out a breath, muscles shaking like he’s restraining himself from overwhelming you.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” 

He mumbles, peppering kisses into your neck before making his way back to your lips. It’s much smoother this time, his tongue sliding out to tease your bottom lip, asking for permission this time. He groans when you open up for him, your tongue meeting his. Hands trail up until they reach around, resting on the clasp of your bra. Honey eyes meet yours, but you cut off his question.

“I’ll stop you if I need to, but you asking me if it’s okay every time you try something is gonna seriously kill the mood.” 

You reach around to place your hands on top of his, unclasping your bra along with him. His eyes darken at the sight of your bare chest. You try not to squirm at the intensity of his gaze. It becomes near impossible when he dips down to flick his tongue over your nipple before biting with his teeth. He pays the same attention to the other one before kissing his way down your stomach. You arch your back when he spreads your legs and positions himself between them. He makes his way around, avoiding your dripping pussy, teasing your thighs with soft kisses. You huff in annoyance, and he smirks up at you, biting into the flesh of your thigh. This time he places a kiss to your heated center, enjoying the way you squirm under his touch. 

“Is it everything you imagined?” You ask.

He looks up at you, with such a serious expression, one you’ve only seen a couple times since knowing him.

“Everything and more.”

Your heart flutters, and you know you’re going to say something you’ll regret if you don’t stop counting the different shades of gold in his eyes. You clear your throat before throwing your hair back.

“You gonna fuck me, or am I gonna have to do it myself?”

You pull his head in for a demanding kiss, biting on his lip to distract yourself from the rush of bubbling emotions threatening to surface.

“One sec,” Denki whispers, placing one last kiss to your lips, before getting up.

You gape at the giant box of condoms he casually pulls out. It hasn’t been opened, and oh my god, you didn’t even know they made huge boxes like this. There were at least a hundred in there. What person thinks to buy a big box of condoms if their plans don’t include… fucking a whole ass army? 

“What the fuck, Denki?” 

People usually have one, maybe two condoms in their wallet at most. Some guys don’t have any at all, which kills the mood when you’re in the heat of the moment, so I guess you can be thankful that Denki is... extra prepared?

“What?” 

He pulls a condom out and drops the box. It thumps when it hits the floor. You’re taken aback by how nonchalant he’s being about this.

“I- you- wha- How many times do you think we’re gonna do it!?” 

Denki slides the condom on, smirking at your shocked expression.  

“Till we finish this box,” he says as he slides into you. 

You gasp at the stretch. He pushes to the hilt, and stays there when he notices the slight furrow of your brow. It has been a while since you’ve fucked, but soon enough, you crave more so you roll your hips, but he doesn’t move.

“Denki?” 

His head is pressed into your neck, warm breath tickling your skin, and the stuttering heartbeat matches to the beat of your own. 

“Just… gimme a minute, don’t wanna ruin it by coming in two seconds.” 

His words are muffled, voice raspy with desire, and you can only imagine what his face looks like. It makes you want him all the more. Finally, someone who doesn’t see sex as an opportunity to one-up you or to put you in your place. It’s scary how the last twenty minutes have changed five years of friendship.

“Hey,” you hold his face in between your palms. He already looks completely fucked out with his face flushed and eyes glazed. You place a tender kiss to his lips, unlike the previous kisses you shared. 

“You couldn’t ruin it even if you did come right now.”

You caress his hair in an attempt to reassure him.

“You’d just have to make it up to me,” you wink.

His smile is so pure, lighting up his eyes that’s unique to Denki; it makes your heart do somersaults in your chest. But the moment passes as the previous heat between you two spikes when Denki circles his hips, taking his time to feel you inside and out. He’s touching and kissing you wherever he can, your cheek, neck, chest, thighs, like it’s the first and last time he’ll experience you like this. It might very well be. 

This thought doesn’t sit well with you.

Once he’s mapped out your sweet spots, he digs his fingers into your thighs and pulls your hips flush towards his. He pulls out of you until only the tip is brushing your opening and pounds back into you, taking your breath away. He pumps in and out of you faster, and you cry out when he hits that special spot deep inside of you.

“Denki,” you moan. He grunts and spreads your legs even wider, grabbing one and hauling it over his shoulder to pound into you deeper.

He’s getting close, hell, he’s been close even before you walked in. 

“F-fuck…” Denki groans, thrusting at an uneven pace and feeling the familiar tightening in his groin.

Wrapping your legs around his waist, you flip him over and begin bouncing on his cock in a much more steady rhythm. Denki’s staring up at you, eyes wide in admiration.

You’re a goddess. An absolute fucking masterpiece that needs to be put in a museum for his eyes only. God, when did he get so fucking mushy? You always brought out different sides that Denki, himself, didn’t even know he had. He can’t keep his hands off you, grabbing your boobs, sliding down the curves of your thighs, gripping your ass. He wants to commit it all to memory in case he never gets to know this pleasure again. 

“Y/N, ah, shit, I’m gonna...” he trails off, unable to finish his sentence.

He’s holding on to that sweet release for as long as he can. He’s been craving it since he met you on the first day of class at U.A. His balls tighten, unable to hold it in any longer, before he gives in to the long overdue orgasm. It hits him hard - his entire body tingling from head to toe like 1000 volts of electricity bolt through him. Denki had no idea he could come for this long, but he doesn’t want it to end - it feels so fucking good inside you. He rides it out for a couple more thrusts before he relaxes, completely sated. You try to pull off him, but he grabs your hips and forces you back down. You squeak, clearly not expecting him to care enough to help you out after he finished.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

The tone of his voice sounds foreign in his ears, too gruff and too deep, but you seem to have no problems with it as you moan in response, working yourself on top of him. Your thighs crush his hips, shaking with need as you seek a release of your own. You’re tired from bouncing, so you resort to grinding, swirling your hips deliciously around his cock. Denki squeezes your ass in appreciation.

“You close?” 

“Close, so close, Denki, please…”

Your eyes well up with tears, desperate to finish; the coil in your stomach wound too tight that you might burst any second. Denki helps you by thrusting his hips to meet yours, his hand rubbing your clit. You jolt at the sudden zap to your clit, you look down to see a small spark leave Denki’s fingertip. He does it again, and you cry out, your pussy fluttering from the electrifying touch.

“C’mon, baby, you can do it, come for me.” 

Fuck. Denki didn’t mean for the pet name to slip out, but then you’re moaning louder than before that Denki would’ve had to quiet you if you weren’t alone. Words are tumbling out before you can stop them.

“Oh, fuck, Denki, I love this so much, I love you, I-” 

You slap your hand over your mouth. Denki’s eyes widen for a second before a dangerous glint takes over, and he wretches your hand away from your mouth.

“Lemme hear you. C’mon, Y/N, show me how much you love this.”

You hardly recognize the scream as your own; you flush at how loud you are, but Denki doesn’t seem to mind. It seems to spur him on. He sits up so your chest to chest before he bends down to tug at your nipple with his teeth. You throw your head back in pleasure, your hands coming around to grab at his hair. Golden eyes look up at you from your chest, a slight smirk curving his lips.

“I’m no photographer, baby girl, but I can sure as hell picture us together.”

Leave it to Denki Kaminari to make you come with a cheesy pickup line. 

He gives one final thrust, balls slapping against your ass and hitting the spot deep inside you just right. Your thighs quiver from the pleasure wracking your body, a scream lodging out of your throat so loud that the people next door bang on the wall. You’re overwhelmed to the point that all you can do is rest your head on his shoulder, whispering his name in a broken whimper as you finish. 

You fall next to him on the bed, sweaty and completely wiped, both of you trying to catch your breath. Denki tosses the condom in the trash while you stare at the ceiling, watching the fan swirl round and round. Your mind is no different at the moment, going round in circles, and you’re trying to catch up. Your body feels weightless, tingling all over and loving the high you didn’t think was possible. The bed shifts, and suddenly you’re faced with your best friend of five years. Before he can get a word out, the front door slams shut, and two very familiar, very masculine voices are down the hall, getting closer by the second. 

“Kaminari, you lazy shit, get the fuck down here!”

“Shit!” Denki jumps from the bed, ruffling through the mess to find his pants.

“Denki, just lock the door! Hurry!”

It’s too late as the door swings open, and yeah… if today taught Denki anything, it’s that he really needs to lock his door more often. He doesn’t have time to think as he hops back into bed with you to avoid flashing any of his other friends today. Bakugou would probably threaten to chop his dick off and… yeah, Denki doesn’t wanna think about the rest.

You squeak and cover yourself with the blanket when you’re met with two sets of equally shocked crimson eyes.

Kirishima drops the bag of chips he’s holding. It seems like dropping things when walking into Denki’s room was a common theme today, and he’s sure as hell not looking forward to the cleanup. Denki regrets chancing a glance at Bakugou; nostrils flaring like a rabid predator on the loose and Denki’s his target.

The four of you stare at each other for who knows how long before Kirishima breaks out into a full-on grin.

“About time, bro, congrats!” 

“Congrats?” You turn to Denki, confused.

“The fuck!? You bangin’ my ex, dunceface!?” Bakugou shouts.

“Please don’t hurt me!” Denki squeaks, hiding underneath the covers.

“Oi! You fuck like a man, you better fight like one, too!”

You roll your eyes, hardly affected by Bakugou’s exploding presence, unlike Denki, who is literally shaking beside you.

“Oh fuck off, Katsuki, listen to yourself. Keyword ex-girlfriend.”

Bakugou sputters, and Kirishima drags him by the shoulder.

“Don’t listen to him. He’s been in a mood since he found out he’s gonna be the next star of the Bachelor.” 

“You wanna die too, shitty hair!?” 

You and Denki burst out laughing at the absurdity of Katsuki forced to act like a gentleman on live TV. The image of Katsuki in a suit and tie, holding a rose and actually smiling, is comedic gold to you.

��C’mon, bro, let’s give ’em some space.” 

“Oi! You’re on my shit list now! All of you! Aye! Get the fuck off me!”

Kirishima drags Bakugou the rest of the way, giving you a quick thumbs up on the way out.

You and Denki are still cracking up, but your laughter dies when they leave, and you’re faced with the tension from before. Denki sinks lower into the sheets, hating that he keeps getting walked in on. Who decided it was ‘make a fool out of Denki day’ anyway?

“So…” you start.

“So…” Denki finishes. 

You both stare straight ahead at nothing. 

“Did you mean it?” 

You raise an eyebrow, clearly asking him to elaborate.

“What you said, when you... you know...” he makes a clicking noise with his mouth like that’s universal code for fucking, “Or was it just a heat of the moment thing?” 

You take a moment to think before you give your response. You want to be as honest as possible, and not lead Denki on in any way. Of course, you loved him, he’s your best friend, but did you love him? 

You think back on your friendship, and suddenly a supercut of all the times he was there for you flashes before your eyes. He was there when you needed someone to drive you when you had your wisdom teeth pulled out. You didn’t expect Denki to stay with you the whole weekend, buying you ice cream and watching your favorite movies, but he did. 

He was there when you and Bakugou became an item, always listening to you swoon over how amazing a boyfriend he was. Denki would always respond with “But can he do this?” and would proceed to overuse his quirk like an overpowered Pikachu just to make you laugh. It sends a knife through your heart, knowing Denki was in love with you while you were talking about how great of a boyfriend his friend was. Not to mention how he was there when you and Bakugou broke up, heart-broken and vowing to swear off boys for good. Denki held you in his arms while you cried, staying silent the entire time, which you knew was against his nature. Denki was always there for you as a friend. There’s no doubt he’d be there for you as a lover.

“I meant it,” you say.

Tears threaten to spill, and your heart might burst out of your chest and land right into his hands. You hope he holds on to it forever. He squishes your cheeks and leans down to plant the softest kiss on your lips. This is what you’ve been missing - more like who you’ve been missing. You open your mouth to deepen the kiss, and he meets you move for move. He pulls away, hands still on your cheeks, grazing your cheekbones with his fingertips as he stares into your eyes. 

“Denki, I…” You bite your lip, overcome with emotion. You desperately want to say the words to capture this picture-perfect moment forever. 

Until you feel something poking your thigh.

“Denki!” 

You yell, affronted he popped a boner in the middle of what was supposed to be a romantic moment.

“Sorry!”

“Ugh! Worst timing ever!” You slap his shoulder.

“Ow! I said I’m sorry!”

You wiggle out of his embrace. Silence eats at the room, and you can feel Denki’s energy radiating in uncomfortable frequencies. The last moment had been thoroughly ruined.

But you have all the time in the world to make more.

“... round two?” 

Just seeing Denki’s face light up like Christmas is enough to promise the birth of a new moment. He bends over to grab his box of condoms, some spilling on the floor and adding more to the mess, before saying, “hell yeah!”

You roll your eyes with affection. What a weirdo, you think. But he’s your weirdo.

That night, or rather the next day since it was currently three in the morning, Denki plops down on his bed exhausted from the day. He’s fluffing his pillow, trying to get comfortable, when he feels something underneath. His eyes widen when he takes in the picture he’s holding. You must’ve taken it when he was downstairs and snuck it under his pillow. You’re bent over with that same damn lacy bra that sends him for a loop. Your cleavage deliciously on display as you bite your lip and stare at the camera with those innocent eyes. Denki can’t help it, his hand sliding down on instinct and cupping himself through his boxers. He turns the picture around and smiles at the cute little message written on the back.

“To add to your collection 😉”

[neoculturetravesty]

We met in online class - Part 9

Image adapted from here.

Pairing: Renjun x Reader Genre: College AU, romance, angst, fluff Warnings: Strong language, fist fight, a character has Covid-19 Word Count: 5.2k

Navigation: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | You are on Part 9 | Part 10 | Last Part

A/N: So proud of the boys for breaking records with Hot Sauce 🥺💛  Also, Eid Mubarak to all who celebrate!

Renjun is ashamed to be surprised, but his friends remain true to their word.

That night, Renjun slept for what he’s sure was a good fourteen hours. Because by the time he woke, it was way in the afternoon. Jaemin was already back from his shift and Jeno was almost halfway through his. Jisung had insisted that Renjun get some more rest before he had to take over. It was a tiny bit disconcerting to have Jisung hovering over him the entire day to make sure he was eating and feeling okay, but Renjun had to admit--this was exactly what he needed. He didn’t like who he was when he was alone.

The boys had apparently even created a dedicated group chat where they would post updates and a list of things that were required at the hospital. Not that there was much required, anyway. But the boys would make sure that at the very least, Renjun’s mom had fresh clothes and home cooked food everyday while she couldn’t get out herself. Jaemin had even taken Renjun’s phone and gotten it fixed so he at least had a proper screen instead of a cracked one.

Even when Renjun was sure that he could take over on his own, the boys wouldn’t allow it. On many occasions, he had just stayed by them during their turns, thankful for their company and their friendship. Because who else in this world would spend their semester break in this fashion? He’s pretty sure they had plans; but they had forsaken them all to be there for him. 

Renjun has no idea how it happens, but slowly and surely, things start to get better. He’s pretty certain it has to be some sort of a miracle. Like a little break of sunshine had finally decided to shine on him through the dark clouds. Like somehow, his guardian angel had decided that it had slacked off for long enough and now it should give Renjun a break. Because one day, the doctors tell them that Renjun’s grandmother will be a lot weaker for the next few days to come… but with a lot of care and attention, she should be ready to go home. They echo Renjun’s thoughts and tell them that it is nothing short of a miracle, but also that he should be thankful that his grandmother is still young and has a fighting spirit.

The day she is taken off of life support and brought into another room with a window through which he can see her, Renjun can’t hold himself back. He hugs onto Jaemin so tight and cries happy tears, and Jaemin holds him back just as strong, though he’s sure that he’s so overwhelmed by relief that he’s putting all of his weight onto the boy. But Jaemin doesn’t relent and holds onto him and lets him cry tears of joy into his shoulder.

The boys head home that night and laugh till they cry and celebrate Renjun’s grandma’s life and health. They eat like they had been hungry for days and slump their shoulders in ease like they had been keeping them tense for too long. They laugh and they sit together and keep letting out long sighs of relief, as if each breath was undoing a knot in their chest. It’s a sweet, victorious sort of a happy moment, and it is Jeno who has to remind them they need to focus now more than ever so that Renjun’s grandma can get her strength back and finally test negative. And it is an important reminder because the new semester is about to begin soon and given classes, they will have to redo their hospital visit schedules.

At the very least, they learn that the new semester would begin online, because the sudden surge in Covid cases had led them to another lockdown. Renjun’s not sure whether he should be happy or upset about it. On the one hand, he thinks this lockdown should’ve happened earlier so his grandma would’ve never gotten sick in the first place. On the other hand, he is happy that his grandma would now be safe and recover comfortably. 

When classes begin and Renjun finds all his housemates at home, his heart drops a little and he wonders if he should just skip today. But an amused Jeno mutes himself during his online class and stops him.

“You have other friends, too, you know?” Jeno cocks an eyebrow at him.

“Yeah, but I’m sure they have classes, too. Plus, the four of us have been doing this from the beginning, so… I don’t know…” Renjun says, rubbing the back of his neck, feeling a bit nervous about leaving his mother and grandma on their own without help. But Jeno looks at him like he’s talking gibberish.

“Dude. Not the four of us. All seven of us have been doing this from the very beginning.” Jeno says, eyebrow still cocked, looking at Renjun like he’s sure he’s lost his mind.

Renjun looks up and for a moment, he is sure his face looks dumb. Because if the buffering wheel was a human expression, Renjun’s certain he’s wearing it now. “All… seven?”

“Do you even check the group chat? Chenle and Mark and Donghyuck. They’ve all been doing their duty from Day 1, you idiot. How else would the rest of us come home so early?” Jeno scoffs and laughs a bit, knotting his eyebrows at his clueless friend.

For a moment, Renjun is silenced. Because he doesn’t know how to process this information. He feels a swell in his chest. A sort of happiness that only true friendship brings. But at the same time, he feels an incredible pang of guilt, because for one, he is an asshole that keeps underestimating the said friendship. And for the other, he had done absolutely nothing to be deserving of such love. 

“Dong… Donghyuck, too?” Renjun asks and he feels his heart breaking, though even in this surreal moment of realization, he recognizes how strange it is to feel heartbreak over something like this.

“Of course, you idiot. Donghyuck was the one that stayed at the hospital the entire first night when you were asleep.” Jeno tells him and smacks him lightly on the head.

And for the first time in his life, Renjun actually feels what it is like to have his head physically hang in shame. “I don’t deserve it.” he sighs.

“I really don’t understand you sometimes, Huang Renjun.” Jeno says and turns his attention back to his class.

“What do you mean?” Renjun retorts.

“Just because friends have a dumb fight, doesn’t mean they abandon each other in times of need.” Jeno states like it is the most obvious thing in the world.

It should be simple and obvious, everything Jeno has said. But to Renjun, it is groundbreaking. Because Renjun wasn’t used to being loved and cared for without condition. In his dark and convoluted view of the world, everything was give and take. You scratch my back, I scratch yours. But here they were--his friends that were shattering all of those dumbass beliefs. Telling him that although he had been a grade A asshole and punched them in the face, they understood that he was going through some shit, and that taking care of his sick grandmother trumped all other childish grudges. Renjun realizes that perhaps, he was the most childish out of all his friends. Somewhere in his turbulent childhood, he might have skipped a lot of emotional development. Because why else would the kindness and love of his friends shock him so?

Jeno peeks over the top of his laptop and watches Renjun deep in thought, paying no attention to his own class. “He’s at the hospital right now.” Jeno says knowingly.

And that’s all Renjun needs to hear before he slams his laptop shut and makes his way out.

The fact that Renjun is probably a few steps behind in his emotional development is solidified when he sits next to Donghyuck on a park bench and suddenly finds himself at a loss for what to say.

The rush of blood and adrenaline he had felt in his veins leaving his house for his apology tour seemed to have faded when he saw his friend’s face. Donghyuck had been sitting next to Renjun’s father, but that hadn’t been the bothersome part. It was the fact that his friend was sitting there for him, but with a black eye that Renjun had given him. 

In the grand scheme of healing black eyes, Donghyuck definitely looked less hurt than the last time Renjun had seen him. The purples were mostly gone, leaving behind hues of yellow and a speck of blue here and there. Though he may have been healing, there were more colors on him than before and that’s what made him look worse. That’s also the part that makes Renjun feel most ashamed. His friend was here for him even though he looked like shit thanks to him.

Renjun is sure that on the list of top ten assholes of the world, he would find his own name on top.

But sitting next to Donghyuck outside in the fresh air, he has no idea what to say. He thinks real hard and decides to start in the safe zone.

“Did the guys tell you? About my grandma?” he asks.

“Um, no. It was Jimin.” Donghyuck replies awkwardly.

Renjun nods. “I, uh… I told the guys like a day later, though. Did you tell them before I did?”

“No, um… I was at a party with the 127s… I didn’t see her text till like the next day either, so…” Donghyuck trails off.

Renjun nods again, then swallows. It’s so strange, how awkward this all is. It is unsettling because Donghyuck is the least awkward person he knows, and he hates that this weird zone is where their relationship seems to be heading.

Not if he can help it.

In another rush of dumbass adrenaline, Renjun gets up abruptly and stands before Donghyuck.

“Go on. Do it.” Renjun says and takes a deep breath.

“Huh?” Donghyuck looks at his friend quizzically.

“Do it. Just make it quick.” Renjun nods with determination and points at his face.

“You’re crazy.” Donghyuck states and slides further away on the bench, eyebrows raised, and a grimace on his mouth.

“Just do it, man. Do it so we can move on.” Renjun says, placing both hands on his waist and squeezing his eyes shut.

“I’m not going to punch you so you can move on, you psycho.” Donghyuck’s face is contorted, like he’s scandalized and perhaps even slightly scared of his friend. 

“Come on, Donghyuckie. Just punch me and get it over with.” Renjun waves his hand impatiently, not relenting.

“Are you not hearing me, you crazy? I’m not punching you just to make you feel better!” Donghyuck almost yells.

And because Renjun is pretty sure this would work, he grabs at Donghyuck’s collar just to provoke him.

“What the fuck?!” Donghyuck tries to push Renjun off of him.

“Hit me!” Renjun shouts.

“No, are you fucking crazy! Get off me!” Donghyuck grabs at the sleeves of Renjun’s jacket and tries to pry him off. 

“Not till you hit me!” Renjun insists, clinging onto the boy, grabbing and pulling at him to annoy him best he can to get a reaction.

“I’m not going to hit you!” Donghyuck yells. The two boys spin in inelegant, rough circles on the grass, trying to push and pull at one another.

“Punch me or you got no balls!” Renjun yowls and then finally feels the blow to his face that sends him flying to the ground.

He pauses for a bit because his head spins for a solid ten seconds. He shakes it vigorously to get it to focus and it helps because then he looks up to find a very startled and distressed Donghyuck looking down at him, fist still raised in the air.

“That had more throw than power.” Renjun comments, massaging his jaw.

“Yeah, that’s what I was going for.” Donghyuck agrees. 

For a moment both boys nod and look at each other, acknowledging the technique and form of the punch. And then, they burst into laughter because fuck, all of this was so stupid. Renjun rolls on the grass and Donghyuck doubles over as he stands. Then he offers Renjun his hand to help him get up, which he takes eagerly, using it to lift up and fling himself into his friend’s arms. They hold each other strongly, thumping one another on the back. And just like that, the awkwardness is gone. All that was meant to be said has been said and now Renjun is no longer struggling to find his words. They come easily, because all of this is so natural. He was with his best friend, after all.

“You are a crazy motherfucker, you know that, right?” Donghyuck comments, shaking his head as they sit back down on the bench.

Renjun chuckles, then looks at the grass, because his head hangs in shame again. “I’m a sorry motherfucker.”

Donghyuck puts an arm around Renjun and thumps his back again. “You should be sorry, you dumb fuck. But also, you’ve got a pretty toxic coping mechanism, you know that, right?”

Renjun sighs long “I know. The longer I think about it, the dumber I feel.”

He expects his friend to make a joke in return but he feels his hesitation. So he looks up and finds Donghyuck trying to think of what to say. “Have you ever thought about… like sorting that out, maybe?” he finally asks.

“Sorting it out?” Renjun asks, confused.

“Like... you know this isn’t normal, right?” Donghyuck asks, and he doesn’t sound like he’s mocking. His tone doesn’t have the slightest hint of a joke and that’s what makes Renjun realize what he’s talking about.

“No… no, I haven’t…” Renjun admits. He doesn’t know why he’s never thought about ‘sorting it out’. Perhaps because he’s always thought he was smarter than anyone who could offer him help.

“You could give it a try. Talking to someone really helps sometimes, you know? Getting help can help.” Donghyuck says carefully.

Renjun bites his lip. He knows his friend is right, but he’s never really, truly given it a thought. Donghyuck senses his discomfort and changes the subject.

“Your grandma is finally getting tested again tomorrow.” he says as he stretches.

Renjun smiles “Yeah. I honestly can’t believe it…” he looks at his best friend “... but I also don’t know if I’ll ever be able to thank you…”

Donghyuck frowns and shakes Renjun by the shoulder “Stop it before I throw up.”

“I mean it.”

“I’ll throw up even if you mean it.”

“Donghyuck…”

“Okay, really, stop. Also, I’m not even the one you should be thanking. Or apologizing to.” Donghyuck sits back after he’s had his fill of shaking Renjun.

“Of course, you’re the one I should be thanking and apologizing to, you stupid. You did all of this for me even when I was an absolute asshole to you.” Renjun presses.

“You are an asshole, but you’re also a dumb asshole.” Donghyuck declares.

“Hey, I’m trying to apologize nicely, here.” Renjun pouts and his friend lets out a long, exasperated sigh.

“I thought you were just being obtuse but you seriously don’t know…” Donghyuck shakes his head.

“Know what?” Renjun asks and Donghyuck shrugs and acts like a little shit which annoys Renjun, but at the same time fills him with relief. Because Donghyuck being a little shit to him means their friendship has been restored to its original state. But he asks again “Know what?!”

“Dude, no offense or anything, but did you really think your parents can put your grandma in a private room all on their own?” Donghyuck asks.

Renjun stops a bit. He’d been so worried about the fact that his grandma’s life was hanging by a thread that he hadn’t even thought about the expenses part. He knows his grandma had a little bit in savings, but his parents for sure didn’t earn that much. Come to think of it, he hadn’t even realized that this was one of the nicer hospitals around.

“Fuck it, I’m really going to have to spell it out for you. Since your brain doesn’t seem to be working.” Donghyuck sighs dramatically.

“What?”

“Dude. This is Y/N’s parents’ hospital. Your mother couldn’t possibly keep taking care of your grandma all on her own, now could she? When Y/N found out, she went crazy. She made her parents direct all their best resources into taking care of your grandma.”

For a while, the information hangs in the air.

Renjun had thought that he would never get to feel things that were new and unexplainable ever again. He thought he had experienced every single feeling his body had to offer. The past month alone had put him through more emotions than he had experienced in his whole life. He had seen it all, felt it all.

But what he’s experiencing right now doesn’t feel like gratitude or shame or longing or anything one should expect to feel in a situation like this. It just feels like a soft light has filled his chest and is lifting him in the air. He feels like he’s floating, like he’s having an out of body experience. 

“Oh,” is the only thing he can manage to say.

And then he remembers your face. He hadn’t realized it then, but he sees now how badly he had wanted to see you that night. He had wanted no one but you to hold him and kiss him and tell him that he wasn’t alone. And he remembers how he couldn’t tell you any of that. He remembers how you had walked away with another man. 

And that makes him come back to earth. He feels a resigned sort of sadness.

“Y/N is… she would do that for anybody, wouldn’t she?” Renjun smiles sadly.

“She probably would. But you should’ve seen how worried she was. Even now, she is on the phone everyday with her parents, making sure they’re doing everything they can. She didn’t want what happened to her grandmother to happen to yours.” Donghyuck tells him.

Renjun looks up “What happened to her grandmother?”

Donghyuck raises his eyebrows. “She passed away from Covid last year?” His eyebrows go higher still “She says she’s told you about this?”

Renjun thinks, and then it’s as if a veil on his memory is slowly but poorly being lifted. He remembers laying his head on your shoulder. He remembers feeling your shirt dampen from his tears. He remembers your fingers drawing relaxing patterns in his hair. He remembers your soothing voice, speaking to him with such tenderness that Renjun had barely heard your words and had focused instead on it’s sweet tones. But now, when Renjun is forcing himself to think, he very foggily recalls what you had been saying. You had been telling him about your own grandmother. Why hadn’t Renjun listened? Why did Renjun never listen when you spoke? He was such a selfish, arrogant fool. He wishes he could go back and change it all. 

Donghyuck shakes his head. “Are you really….” he sighs again, “Nevermind. But yeah, she basically went nuts because she couldn’t be here with you.”

Renjun’s heart is aching and he’s pretty sure his face reflects it. “I wish I could take it all back. Everything I did to her.”

“You can take it back.” Donghyuck says.

“How?” 

“Apologize to her, you dummy.” Donghyuck smacks the back of his head.

“How? I tried calling her once but she didn’t pick up.” Renjun admits.

“Then you should call her again and again and again till it sticks.” Donghyuck says plainly and it makes so much fucking sense that Renjun is embarrassed that he hadn’t thought it.

“Yeah, but…” Renjun swallows, “... it doesn’t really matter now, does it?”

“What do you mean?” Donghyuck asks.

“She’s with Wong Hendery now. So…” Renjun can’t even complete the thought.

“What do you mean she’s with Wong Hendery?” Donghyuck scrunches his brows deep in his forehead in confusion.

“She left with him for the semester break. I went to see her… but she left with him…” Renjun presses his lips together.

“Wait…” Donghyuck says and Renjun looks up and nods at him as if to confirm the fact. But he sees something entirely different on his friend’s face. It’s an expression of deep dumbfoundedness. “... are you some sort of an idiot?” He asks like Renjun is the dimmest person he has ever come across.

And Renjun doesn’t help his cause because he only blinks in return.

“Dude! She’s not ‘with Wong Hendery,’” Donghyuck gets up and smacks Renjun across the head once again. “They’re partners on the SMK Trainee Drive. She’s literally been preparing for this for months? Shouldn’t you know this?”

Renjun blinks some more. SMK Trainee Drive? Renjun had heard and personally seen you preparing for interviews and these drives. But somehow a lot of it hadn’t registered in his brain. Once again, probably because he never listened to you well. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, he was an idiot. He was the biggest idiot on the planet.

Yet right now, he was a smiling idiot whose heart was suddenly filling with hope. “She’s not… with… she’s not with Hendery?” Renjun is embarrassed. He feels so fucking stupid asking this, but he absolutely can’t help the smile spreading across his face.

“She’s literally at the tower right now. She’s been stuck because we went into lockdown whilst she was there. It’s why she couldn’t come and see you. But the highway doesn’t open for another week, so she’ll be stuck till then.” Donghyuck explains, and Renjun feels his heart exploding with joy at every word. He’s pretty sure he’s grinning shamelessly. 

“Why do I know more about your girlfriend than you do? Oh wait. It's because 'she's not your girlfriend.’” Donghyuck does a perfectly exaggerated mimicry of Renjun that reminds him of that one SpongeBob meme. On a normal day, he would’ve wanted to smack his friend for doing this. But in this moment, he is all too happy to be the one being smacked and mocked.

Renjun laughs with relief, then finds his laugh fading a bit. “Do you think she’ll forgive me? For everything I did?”

“I don’t know, man. But you wouldn’t know unless you try.” Donghyuck once again states something that should be obvious.

“How do I try if she’s not picking up my calls? And when she won’t even be here for another week?” Renjun sulks a bit but gets smacked in the head again.

“Dude! She literally did everything in the world to help your grandma, and she was in a wholeass different city! She did that all for you! I’m sure you can figure out a simple apology.” Donghyuck has his arms crossed and is now seriously looking agitated with him and it makes Renjun smile.

“She really did that for me?” Renjun asks and he doesn’t even care if he sounds like a cheesy motherfucker. He doesn’t even care he’s being this way in front of Lee Donghyuck who probably won’t let him live it down for the rest of his life.

“Of course she did that for you, you idiot.” Renjun earns another smack at the end of that.

“Does she like me?” Renjun asks like a stupid, hopeful teenage boy.

Donghyuck pretends to gag and moves away in disgust. But then he sees Renjun’s expression and lets out a long, irritated exhale. “Of course she likes you, you dumb fuck.” Renjun gets hit in the head, “Why would she do all of this if she didn’t like you?” Renjun gets another smack, “Oh Lord, please give me the strength to not commit murder. I am not your strongest soldier…” Donghyuck looks up at the sky and Renjun laughs openly, freely and lightly. He feels as if all the knots in his chest are slowly being undone one by one. So he jumps up and tries to tackle and cuddle Donghyuck but he keeps moving away. The two boys run around in the ground, Renjun chasing Donghyuck, trying to attack him with his love while he complains that his hair smells.

And Renjun accepts all his insults with a newly healed heart. You liked him. Despite everything that he’d done to you, you liked him. You had worried about him and done everything in your power to help his grandma. You had kept tabs on her and made sure she was healing even though you were miles away. You liked him, and you weren’t with a new guy and you liked him.

As he walks back towards the hospital with his arm around his best friend’s shoulders, he decides that if it came to it that he had to beg and grovel for your forgiveness, he would happily spend the rest of his life on his knees. Because you liked him and Renjun was never going to let you go ever again.

True to his word (for maybe the first time in your relationship), Renjun spends the rest of the week trying to reach you. Because his apology tour wouldn’t be complete without his most important stop--you.

He calls you so many times; but each time, he only gets to hear the dial tone and the mechanical voice telling him that the user is unreachable at the moment. You never pick up.

But his mind and his spirit is fueled by Donghyuck’s advice, and this time, the advice is a lot more sound and a lot less exploitative. So, Renjun doesn’t give up because he has to make it stick. You had never given up on him. He wasn’t going to give up on you. When he’s sure you won’t pick up his calls, he leaves you a string of messages.

‘Hey, Y/N. I’m trying to call you. Please pick up?’

‘I know you have every right to be mad at me, but I just need a chance to apologize.’

‘I’m seriously the biggest idiot in the world, but I need to tell you that in person.’ 

‘Okay, I’m coming to you.’

‘Turns out I can’t just negotiate with the police to let me cross the city lines to get to the girl I like.’

‘Y/N, please…’

‘I’m the world’s sorriest and the most embarrassed motherfucker and I need to hear your voice to tell you that.’

‘I am Berry-Berry sorry, and I’m just asking for one chance to get to talk to you.

‘I’m not going to stop, you know?’

He has to admit that his patience is wearing thin. Because he’s trying every method and none of it is working; and also because his pride had never allowed him to beg and grovel to anyone before. It’s a humbling experience, but at the same time, he doesn’t feel burdened by it. This was for you. The girl who had done everything in her power to make him fall. The girl who had given him more love and kindness than anyone else in the world had. The girl who had taken his troubles and worries as her own. So, of course, he had to do everything in his power to earn your forgiveness.

But as he’s sitting in his room, trying to call you for what he’s sure is the twentieth time that day, he hears that your phone has been powered off. For a moment, Renjun feels immensely dispirited. Maybe he had lost you for good. Maybe you never wanted to hear from him ever again. Maybe this is what he deserved.

But in the next moment, Renjun stops himself. No. He wasn’t going to let his mind spiral that way again. He had to think with a good, clear mind. He couldn’t sit around and sulk without knowing he had explored all possible options. He needed to get creative and for that, he needed to think.

He could certainly wait it out till the week was over and when you’d be back. But he wanted to spend each passing minute letting you know that he was trying. So, that wasn’t an option.

Maybe he could look at the map and find some loopholes and secret passageways across the city. Surely, some of them had to be unmanned so he could break the lockdown law and get to you? That would certainly be impactful, being locked up in jail as a grand gesture of an apology. But Renjun was no action hero.

Renjun sits and thinks and thinks and thinks till a light bulb finally goes off. Of course. A grand gesture. He yells into his pillow out of excitement and frustration that he hadn’t thought of this before. If one thing had been established during this time, it was the fact that Renjun was a dumb fuck with a penchant for being blind to the obvious. 

He gets up bright and early the next morning and rushes to see your friend at her apartment. He sits beside her as her online class starts, away from the camera view and finds his heart filling with the utmost warmth as he sees your window finally appear on the screen. Even in the tiny box, you looked so freaking beautiful that for a minute, Renjun stops and stares as butterflies take over his belly. But he taps his cheek to get himself to focus. He was here on a mission.

He waits for the class to begin before he slides himself into view next to your friend and types out a message on the chat that had taken him all night to prepare. He hits ‘Send to Everyone’ and waits.

And thankfully, the professor--miraculously the same professor who had done this the very first time all that time ago--stops to read it out,

“This might be a long shot, but Y/N L/N, do you think you can find it in your heart to give me another chance?” he begins, squinting his eyes slightly in confusion as he reads on, then smiling as realization hits. “Well, that’s certainly not a question from Ms. Kim Minjeong, I can tell you that.” he jokes and waits because as it had before, this has piqued the students’ interest.

Renjun watches as your pretty eyes widen. He watches them skirt across your screen, seemingly looking for the cause of the commotion. He watches the moment of realization hitting your pretty face. And he waits.

“Well, Ms. Y/N L/N, are you going to put the young man out of his misery?” the professor jokes kindly and Renjun thinks he might die from the anticipation.

And then, he watches as you move to unmute yourself.

“Yeah, I guess I could give him another chance,” you say nonchalantly which earns you a round of applause and hoots from all other windows. Because college students will always love dramatic antics.

The professor calls the class back to attention and Renjun sits back in his chair, grinning like an idiot because the girl he had fallen for had given him another chance.

Copyright © 2021 NeoCultureTravesty. All rights reserved.

[nctsworld]

in a king-size, say i’m your queen

✩‌ renjun ‌x‌ ‌reader‌ ‌|‌ prince!renjun | fluff | smut | ‌3.4k

SUMMARY‌ ‌⇾‌ you’re drawn to the kingdom’s prince staying at your family’s inn. on the night before he leaves, you exchange good-byes in the form of a kiss and more. WARNINGS‌ ‌⇾‌ ‌smut (near the end), unprotected s*x, f*ngering, oral s*x (m receiving), mentions of alcohol/drinking, commoner!reader, dash of angst RATING‌ ‌⇾‌ mature PROMPT ⇾‌ prince/royalty au // fluff + smut REQ BY ⇾‌ anonymous   ‌

⇾‌ gif created by me, please don’t repost or share without credit!

“Prince Huang, this is my family, who will be looking after you during your stay.”

Your father awoke everyone from deep slumber in the middle of the night, hollering at everyone to put on their work clothes in a hurry. Little did anyone expect the actual prince himself to be taking a rest at your family’s inn, for several days apparently.  

As the youngest and only daughter among your kin, your father introduces you last in line to greet the prince and his companions. With sleep still in your eyes, you curtsy as gracefully as you can, once towards the prince and another towards his followers.

The sleep in your eyes disappears as your eyelids suddenly bloom at your first clear look at the man standing a few steps across from you.

Everyone within the kingdom obviously knew of the royal family, but being this far from the mainland never granted you the chance to see them in-person. There were rumours far and wide of how captivating and beautiful the family was, especially the prince, but you assumed they were exaggerating, fueling the propaganda mill that all royalty were gorgeous, godly beings.

Oh, to be absolutely wrong.

Air’s snatched from your lungs when his warm smile burgeons, warming the room more than the fireplace ever could.

He holds his gaze on you, placing a palm on his chest and saying, “My dearest apologies for disturbing your dreams. It was a must though; we haven’t stopped anywhere in days and finally found your inn.”

Your father replies to his words, while you blink observantly at the royal figure. You wonder if it’s due to the lack of sleep or simply all in your head, but you swear his glances waver over at you more than your other family members.

“Well, I will retire to bed now and won’t be requiring your services until morning. Please resume your slumbers, and I wish you all the sweetest of dreams.”

Puffing his cheeks cutely, he bends his head slightly towards your family, while all of you dip and bow to him. When you two jointly look up, your gaze surely connects with his.

Funny enough, his wish comes true as his beauty rules over your dreams, molding them into sweet ones, for the rest of the night.  

On the second morning of his stay, you watch him relaxing at the back of the inn among the luscious greenery. In a loose white-button up, he’s sitting by himself, save for a guard nearby, and lounging in a chair under the spring sun.

Prior to starting on your tasks for the day, you stroll towards him with a jug in hand. Smiling freely, his eyes are shut as you approach him.

“Sorry to disturb you, Your Royal Highness—”

His eyes flutter open at your divine voice and his smile deepens.

“But would you care for some lemon juice?”

The boyish man hums in acceptance and he’s glued to how you carefully pour the liquid into his chalice. His eyes track the path of your departure after you leave the jug on the table and head towards a group of trees in the farther end of the garden.

Though he delights in the picturesque image of you skillfully picking the yellow fruit, which he assumes are lemons, off the tree from your wooden ladder and dropping them into the bucket hanging from your hand, a desire simmers in his stomach to be in your presence. The prince's guard follows behind him discreetly as the handsome individual makes his way over and speaks to you from below.

“May I assist you?” he offers.

His appearance startles you for a moment, then your stare unintentionally drops over the exposed skin of his upper frame. You ponder over the smoothness of his skin and imagine yourself leaving kisses upon his clavicle, on his chest, going downward further and further...

Clearing your throat and shaking your head to focus, you airily laugh at his question. The highness’s eyebrows crease, perplexed by your response.    

“Prince Huang—”

“Call me Renjun, please,” he interrupts, laying a palm against his chest. “I insist.”

“Prince Huang,” you reiterate, not wanting to breach the formalities. “It’s my duty—and an honor if I may add—to pick these lemons for you, not yours.”

“Well, as prince,” Renjun gently seizes the bucket away from your grasp. “I order you to allow me to assist you.”

Incredulously, you stare at him for a lingering moment and he engages equally, delving into your glowing aura.

Since you can’t reject his order, you yield and continue to pick the lemons off the tree, now plopping them into the bucket held by Renjun. Throughout the comfortable silence, he doesn’t take his eyes off of you for one second, admiring how elegant you are with the light breeze blowing through your hair.  

He wonders to himself if you’re aware of your devastating beauty.  

A couple of nights pass and during one evening, in the shared resting area, you find Renjun situated adjacent to the fireplace, reading a book alone (with a guard lurking close by, of course).

The prince’s features are already so soft, but he seems ethereal with the fire’s glow against his face. You’re reminded of the first night he arrived.  

As you usually do, you query if he needs anything before you retire to your room.  

He replies negatively, but then adds, “Would you like to hear some of the story I’m reading before bed?”

Shaking your head, you tuck some of your hair behind your ear. “Oh, I wouldn’t want to impose—”  

“Not at all,” Renjun beams. He gestures for you to sit in the seat beside him, and you do so with prickling cheeks.  

His fingers flip a few pages back and he tells the short story from the beginning. Your cheek tips into your palm as you listen intently. Yes, the story is intriguing, but you’re also focused on Renjun’s voice. It’s soothing, yet lively with the specific parts in which he modulates his tone to flow perfectly with the storytelling.

And then you drift over his plush, kissable lips. You will yourself to focus on the story, rather than the reader.

In between his reading, he peers up from the pages to see if you’re still interested to hear the rest of the story, not wanting to waste your time nor bore you to death. He reads the dazzling expression on your face as a signal to finish until the very end.

When it’s over, Renjun asks if you enjoyed it. You hum positively and stand up, excusing yourself to formally leave for the night. You exchange pleasant good-nights and sweet dreams. While you shuffle off, before you’re past the doorway, he pipes up—

“Perhaps I can read you another story tomorrow evening?”

You turn around by the end of his sentence, grasping onto the doorframe.

Renjun continues, his grip tightening around the closed book. “If you wish.”

Your lips press together, in hopes to suppress a grin. It doesn’t work too well.  

“I’d like that very much.”

Time flies, and it’s already the second to last day before Renjun’s departure. Your family decides to arrange a party at the inn, inviting the fellow townspeople to join as well.  

Fittingly, Renjun sits in the middle of the long table alongside his associates and is entertained by the spectacle of the event. After the townspeople grant him gifts and dinner is served, the dancing commences. Throughout the evening, he keeps a constant eye out for you.

All night, you serve the guests and barely have time to properly eat your own meal. However, as the night lengthens, your parents urge you to live a little. In the middle of the hall, you rush to unite with your close friends, clasping onto their hands and dancing around in circles to the merry music.

The royal figure radiates, enticed from the scene of you laughing and jumping in joy, having never seen this side of you before. His heart flops at the endearing sight and an itch overcomes him. Taking a sip of his wine, Renjun anxiously wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and heads towards you onto the dance floor.  

Gasps trail behind his steps as he floats through the domino effect of bowing people. He casually says his thank you’s to everyone in passing and as the domino effect finally reaches a stop within the middle of the room, you’re the last one to formally greet him.

“Your Royal Highness,” you curtsy with a small smile.

He acknowledges with a bow of his head and shocks you by holding his palm out.

“May I share a dance with you?”

Your heart pounds in your ears as you glance around the room to ensure he’s talking to you and not mistakenly someone else. Additionally, you’re surveying the prospects because you are definitely not the most worthy to dance with royalty; the mayor’s daughter should be owed this dance, not you. You also shamefully touch your work outfit, wishing you were wearing something cleaner and more extravagant.

“Prince Huang, are you sure you want to dance with me?” you murmur, despite how everyone quieted down and can hear what you’re saying.

“Of course,” he stretches out for your hand and possesses it in his.

“Who else would I want to share a dance with?”

Your friends and all other parties now disperse and surround the two of you, dancing to their own fulfillment as you’re left in an imaginary bubble with just Renjun. Every twirl, spin, and bounce generates endless vivacious laughter from the both of you. You dance deeper into the night until your faces and feet soon ache, until it was almost only the two of you on the dance floor.      

Because of the aching, you stumble at one point, crashing into Renjun’s body.

He catches you in his arms. You look up into his eyes, then at his lips merely fingertips away from yours. Renjun’s liquored panting fans your face and you drown in it without reservation.

His eyes flicker to your lips too, and he gulps. Bravely, he raises his palm to caress your cheek, but as his skin touches yours, it jolts you to your core, popping you out of your secluded bubble and dragging you into reality.

Pulling apart from him, the prince asks if you’re okay.

You nod thoughtlessly, quickly thank him for the dance, and spew that you should begin to clean-up the hall, leaving him on the dance floor.

Renjun brings a finger to his lips and watches you run off.  

The last evening of his stay finally arrives. In your nightgown before bedtime, forgetting to ask if he needed anything before you changed out of your work clothes, you knock on his room’s door with the guard on-duty beside it.

His muffled voice beckons you to come in, and you open the door ajar to creep your head through the space. Noticing it’s you, he immediately drops the book he was reading onto his bedside table.  

“Prince Huang, did you need anything else before you leave tomorrow?”

Legs dangling off the largest bed at the inn, he thinks to himself for a few moments. He twists his mouth to one side, tapping a finger on his chin.

“I think I have everything in order...”

Then, he tilts his head to one side and puckers his lips. He darts onto his feet and adds, “Can you come in for a moment though? And please shut the door behind you.”

You’re taken aback by his request. Nevertheless, you fulfill it and close the door behind you as you walk in. Renjun’s eyes widen at the sight of you in your nightgown, clicking together why you didn’t fully come into his room in the first place.  

You rub one of your arms. “Sorry for my indecent clothing—”

“No, I’m sorry, uhm,” he palms the back of his neck nervously. “I just wanted to say a few words, so I’ll be quick.”  

He steps closer to you. Both of you stand in the middle of the room and he continues.

“Before I leave, I want to make sure you know that I quite enjoyed my stay here because of you and your family’s fine service, but I enjoyed it even more because of your cordial company.”

At his earnest appraisal and personal compliment, your cheeks flare and your jaw dangles. You bow with your head. “Thank you, Prince Huang.”

Renjun then faces the floor and picks at his fingers, trying to formulate his thoughts.

“I don’t normally do this and I’m about to ask the following not as a prince, but as a normal man. And let me preface it by saying that, as a man of my word, you are not obligated or pressured to agree to what I’m about to ask; you have every right to say no.”

He sputters everything so fast, it takes a bit for you to process his words. When it sinks in, you’re still unsure exactly what he’s talking about. Worried, you raise your eyebrows, anticipating his inquiry.  

Noting your confusion, he exhales a lengthy breath and goes straight to the point.

“As a send-off and to demonstrate my gratitude…”

He meets your gaze.

“May I kiss you?”

Your jaw, along with your eyes, hangs this time. Awestruck, you blink rapidly and inhale sharply as you stay frozen in place.

“I know it may be one-sided, but at yesterday’s gathering, I thought we shared a special moment and perhaps it’s my fault I acted upon it since we were among people, so I apologize for that—”

“You may kiss me,” you cut him off, relieved to hear his thoughts, and close the space between yourselves.

It’s his turn to don the rapid blinking.

“Are-are you sure?”

Cautiously, his palm cups your cheek, mirroring the memory of last night, then he adds his other.

“Yes, Pr-”

“Renjun, please.”

“Yes, Renjun—”

You collide as he captures your lips. He exudes innocence and it shows in his kissing; he starts off gently and barely expands his mouth. Each movement is lovely and oozes affection. Your fingers tug lightly at his nightwear, body humming emphatically in response.

However, as he tests the water, his kissing is soon stripped of innocence and is replaced by a sinful hunger. While his tongue slips into your mouth, grazing against your teeth, his hands traverse your body and confront your waist and neck, squeezing them upon arrival. You eagerly reciprocate his change of pace, desperately running your fingers through his hair and angling your neck to better the searing, open-mouthed kisses.

Since there aren’t many layers covering either of you, you’re blatantly aware of Renjun’s growing desire against your body.

Pressing his forehead against yours, he pants, “May I take you to bed?”

You bob your head fervently and croak, “Yes.”

“Yes…?”

You grin into the next kiss at his playfulness.

“Yes, Renjun.”

In retrospect, being taken in a guest room at your family’s inn was strange, but you couldn’t think much of it within the moment.

At the moment, all you yearn for is Renjun’s weight on you, locking your body into the bed with his. Lip-locked as he lays you down, he satisfies your yearning hastily.

While he dominates your neck, one of his hands is rashly underneath your nightgown and ascends to the haven of your breasts. You gasp at the initial contact, your fingers tightening in his hair and over his shoulder blade.

He kneads the meat of your tits momentarily, but he’s more fixated on attending to your nipples. Renjun’s thumb tenderly rubs over them prior to his loving pinches. At this point, his mouth zones in and nibbles on your earlobe, so he listens to your rising panting and erotic moans crystal clear.

Following his massaging and playing of your other breast, he withdraws from you to disrobe your layer in one-go and you return the favour to peel away his.  

Renjun’s purity ignites once more as he reveres your bare body, lovingly scanning all your curves and lines.

“Do you know how beautiful you are?” he whispers.  

Fluttering your eyelids, you lightly bite your bottom lip between your teeth. Truly, it was too easy for him to make your cheeks spark this often. He converges with your mouth sweetly before he wraps his pretty lips around your nub.

“Oh, my God, Renjun—”

Because your eyes snap in gratification, you can’t see the smirk on his face. He indulges in you calling him by his first name, especially so melodiously and within this context. A hand finds purchase upon the neighbouring breast, and another hovers under your warmth. Your hips buck heedlessly, begging for his fingers to dive further.  

They do so when he switches his embrace upon your breasts. Although you know he must feel it, the obscene, loud sounds of him fingering your sex confirm how wet you are for him. Renjun peeks an eye open to your wanton self. He adores the view in addition to your dripping pleasure contracting and spilling over his digits.  

Moving ahead, he retreats from you and mounts himself on the bed on his knees, stroking himself to harden himself for what’s to come. Despite still being breathless from your high, you rise onto your knees to match his stance in front of him.

Your dominant hand grasps his possession, taking over for him. Simultaneously, your mouth finally has the chance to reign over the smoothness of his frame—his neck, his carved clavicle, the expanse area of his chest, and his soft abdomen. He sighs blissfully, eyes batting.        

Your mouth proceeds lower to where your hand is located and aids to the swelling of Renjun’s desire. He gawks, mouth hanging, at the beautiful arching of your back and your enthusiasm as you engulf him.

Gripping him by the base, you stroke to the measure of your bobbing. To keep him enraptured, you occasionally focus on his tip, such as with the swirling and flicking of your tongue and initiating vigorous, targeted sucking. Not wanting him to reach climax yet, you pull away from him with a pop, but not before you leave a delicate kiss upon the glossy apex.

Once again, you recline downward onto the bed, except now with spread legs. Renjun pumps his wet length and lines it up with your glistening crevice. You stare at his cock upon penetration, and the flood of sensations from the impact causes you to crane your head into the pillow.  

Hands encompassing your waist, the lover thrusts gradually at first, allowing you to acclimatize to his girth. After some time, he surrenders to his carnal urges and plunges deeper with speed. Your chest heaves as your nails dig into his shoulders, leaving half-moons on his skin. Lowering himself, he secures your lips for a fleeting, sentimental moment.

To your surprise, Renjun picks up the rhythm even further, leading you to wail his name and incoherent noises repeatedly. In hopes to quell yourself, you lightly bite down on the meat of your index finger. It only partially helps since whimpers still trickle out from you.  

Both of you are nearing. Aching to be even more intimate with you, his hand flees from the flank of your body and over your head to lace his fingers with yours. His intertwining compresses alongside the pinching of his face. With your finger in pain, you release it and let loose. As one, you moan in sync with Renjun and you break together. He extracts himself, painting your stomach in white ribbons.  

Inhaling much needed air, you settle upon Renjun’s chest with his arm around you. He trifles with your fingers in his before he kisses the back of your hand.

“If you ever have the chance to come by the kingdom, I implore you to find me.”

Peering up at him, you agree enthusiastically. “Of course, Renjun.”  

With pink tinting over his face, he cups you by your chin.

“Promise?”

Hesitancy pumps through your blood. You know the chances of you ever leaving your home town would be very unlikely, and even if you could, you two could never be together for he is of royal blood, and you of none.

Nevertheless, you dare not to break the twinkling, awaited expression upon his face, so you reply—

“I promise.”

Sharing another kiss, you stay with him in the bed for a little while longer, savoring the brief amour as much as possible.

[thelastdrop]

Surprise

Momoland Nancy & Momoland Ahin x Male Reader

6586 words

Categories: smut, threesome, shower sex

Read on AFF

Editors: @worldsover​​ and @nsfwflint​

A warm summer’s air passes into the open window of your company car. Why the company would ever give you an Audi as your company car is still beyond your knowledge, but there is no way you were going to complain about getting a free ride. You would have taken anything they gave you, so the black leather seats, touch screen interface, hands-free calling, and all the other bells and whistles were novel amenities that took some getting used to.

On your right you see the sign for your apartment complex’s parking. You take the turn over the sidewalk and begin to descend toward the garage. An automatic gate is lifted as a sensor picks up on your car's barcode from a sticker on your front windshield. Living in a complex that has a nice garage like this was one of the main things you were looking for when you and your girlfriend were picking out a place to live.

You and Nancy have been having a great time together recently. Your relationship had taken the next step when you both decided to move in together about a month ago. Living together not only gave you both the opportunity to see each other more, but it also gave you something to look forward to after you would come home from work. Nancy is always there to greet you with a warm smile and a hug as you walk in the door.

You park your car in your ‘assigned’ spot. Not that they were really assigned but most residents would park their cars in the same place every day so they could take a short walk to the elevators. Stepping into the elevator, you press your floor number and it lights up causing the metal doors to close in front of you. A sigh of relief is exhaled from your lungs. Finally you made it to the weekend and won’t have to worry about work for the next two days. 

With a soft bing bong the metal doors open again. Exiting out onto the intricately designed carpeted floor, you make your way down the well kept corridor towards your apartment. Picking out your apartment from everyone else's is made easier by Nancy’s love of home decor. A different wreath always hangs on your door depending on the season, and this one happens to be a vibrant green leaf wreath with yellow Daylilies interwoven throughout. 

“Welcome home oppa!” Nancy announces as you walk in the door. “How was your day today? I hope it wasn’t too hard.” She approaches you and gives you a kiss on the cheek while you take your coat off and hang it on a coat rack near the entrance.

Nancy’s love of decor doesn’t stop at the door. She’d fallen in love with a contemporary style of decorating after seeing it in one of her friend’s places. On the cream walls are splashes of color found in different objects, your favorite being a Marilyn Monroe painting you’d picked out after seeing a street artist selling it. The background of the painting looked as if the artist took red, yellow and orange paint and threw them on the canvas. After letting it dry, they came back and painted a very minimalistic face of Marilyn Monroe using only black to outline and white to fill.

“No it wasn’t too bad. I actually got praise from my boss on my work with the Kosak account.” 

“That’s great! Well I do have a bit of an ask from you…” she trails off. Her eyes narrow, gauging your reaction from your face.

Nancy has a problem with always wanting to help her friends out. No matter what the issue is she will, without fail, say yes to whatever they need her help with. It’s caused her to miss dates before, show up late for work, it’s even made her forget to pick you up from the airport. So you already know that this is going to be a major ask since she never runs these things by you.

You let out a deep sigh. “I hope it isn’t something that’s going to mess with my birthday,” you sternly reply since it is 5 days away.

“Oh no oppa, I would never forget something like that,” she says as she takes your right arm between her boobs, knowing how much you like them. “I just wondered... if it would be okay... for Ahin to stay with us for the next week while she looks for a new place?” Nancy asks with her voice getting higher by the end of her question.

“You want what?” you say with mild annoyance, “Nancy we barely just moved in together and now you want to throw someone else into the mix? She could ruin the good thing we have going here.” You pull your arm out from between her boobs and turn to walk into the living room.

Nancy scurries in front of your path and buries her face in your chest. “But please oppa? I promise it’ll be like she isn’t even here,” Nancy says with big puppy dog eyes focused on you.

Her ultimate move. You have never been able to tell Nancy no whenever she looks up at you with her dark brown eyes and puckers her lip. The other thing this look did was always give you a great view down her shirt, which you're pretty sure is why she wore her thin strapped tank top today.

“A-Alright she can stay over. But only for a week,” you cave as your face warms up causing you to turn your head away.

“Yay! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you oppa! You're the best boyfriend ever!” she says as she jumps in front of you, her tits bouncing up and down.

In the middle of her celebration, a gentle knock raps on the door.

“Oh that must be her,” Nancy says, skipping over to the door.

“Wait... you already asked her? What if I said no?”

“I know you weren’t gonna say no,” she says in a sultry tone giving you a wink.

You smack yourself in the head on missing an opportunity to have Nancy begging for something. How far would she have gone to have her way?

Fortunately, it wasn’t one of Nancy’s other friends. Yeonwoo and Hyebin were two bombshells that you’ve always been attracted to. Obviously not as much as Nancy, but having one of them around could have led to some… interesting situations.

The last time you saw Ahin she had a short bobbed haircut with bangs. She never really struck you as an overly sexy type of girl, but rather as someone who you could bring home to mom and dad. She had a very homely kind of aura about her calming your worries about having one of Nancy’s friends stay over with you. 

“Ahhhh! I’m so glad you’re here,” Nancy says through the slit of the ajar door only big enough for her to fit through. She reaches both arms through and gives the person on the other side a hug. The door knocks open as they jump and hug each other, revealing a bouncing head of blonde hair on the other side of the hug.

As they break the hug, you get a good look at the other girl and you're left speechless. If this was Ahin, she’d almost completely re-invented her image. What was once a short brown bob with bangs is now long flowing blonde hair that’s parted in the middle. It frames her face so much better than her old haircut did, making you focus on things like her piercing hazel eyes and her plump red lips more than you would have.

You knew Ahin had a pretty good figure, especially when she would wear tight shirts that showed off her large bust, but this just blew you out of the water. A thin strapped darker pink dress with roses and irises hugs her in all the right places, showing off her massive tits and giving you plenty of cleavage to gawk at. It also clings tightly to her stomach and ass, not leaving a lot to the imagination. 

When your eyes finally start to work their way back up Ahin’s body, she stares right at you. She gives you a subtle wink as Nancy snaps you out of the trance. 

“Come on oppa, greet our guest,” Nancy says, pulling you in closer to the two of them.

“Oh, yeah. Um hey Ahin... you look, like, really good.” you say as you stumble your way through the conversation, “When did all of this change happen?”

“Oh this?” Ahin says as she does a little twirl, “Nancy didn’t say anything to you about it? Ah, what kind of friend are you that you don’t brag to your boyfriend about me?”

“I was planning on telling him, but something must have happened and it slipped my mind.”

Ahin extends both of her arms. “Well don’t be shy now. Nothing’s changed, I'm still the same old Ahin as before, so can I have a hug oppa?” she says with a little head tilt.

You quickly glance at your girlfriend for reassurance, but she just gives you a ‘why are you looking at me’ look. When you step forward and embrace Ahin, she pulls you deeper into the hug pressing her boobs against your chest. The feeling of her soft mounds pushing up against you covers a much larger area than Nancy’s do. 

Before you break your hug, Ahin goes up on her tiptoes and whispers into your ear, “We’re going to have a lot of fun while I’m staying with you oppa~.” As she finishes her sentence, she blows lightly on your ear sending a shiver down your spine.

“Well, come with me Ahin and I’ll show you where you’ll be sleeping while you’re here,” Nancy says as she grabs her hand, pulling Ahin toward the guest bedroom you’ve been using as a stay at home office. 

“Oh, and oppa! Grab Ahin’s bags for her would you!” Your girlfriend calls out from the other room.

“Sure thing!” you yell back as you pick up the rolling suitcase and walk towards the room where the two women are.

—

It’s been three days since Ahin came to stay with you and Nancy, and to say Ahin was having fun messing with you would be an understatement. Everything that she wore was extremely revealing. If Ahin had a thin strapped tight tank top, she would walk in front of you while watching TV and pick something up off your coffee table. You swear you saw a silhouette of her nipple poking out from those beautiful round mounds, but you quickly averted your gaze when you heard Nancy make some noise in the other room.

As you got home today, you’re relieved that the work week was finally over. All you can think about is a nice warm shower, before getting into some comfortable clothes and watching TV with Nancy cuddled up beside you on the couch. 

Opening the door to the apartment, you aren’t met with your usual warm welcome you’ve become accustomed to. 

“Hey I’m back,” you call out to the dark, quiet apartment to see if you could get a response, but no luck.

After taking off your coat and hanging it up, you walk into the kitchen and flip on the lights. A note left on the marble countertop.

“Gone out to the store. Be back later with food~” - Nancy ♥

You love how in sync you and Nancy are. Even without telling her you wanted to just stay home tonight and just order something, she is already getting some food for you two to eat tonight.

Rummaging through a drawer beneath the counter, you pull out a pen and write a response to her note.

“If I’m still in the shower when you get back feel free to join me ;)”

And now a nice warm shower awaits you. You make your way through the apartment and notice that the light to the room Ahin is staying in was also off. Looks like Nancy forgot to turn off the lights in your bedroom though. It follows much of the same style the rest of your apartment does. Your bed frame is made out of black wood and the sheets and pillowcases that adorned it are eggshell white. You have no qualms about the style since Nancy really knew what she wanted when she found the place. 

The buttons on your shirt easily come undone as you walk into your bathroom. You toss all your clothes into the hamper before turning on the shower. The ice cold water catches your hand so you quickly try to remove it before getting hit by the painful chill. Letting the shower warm up, you move over to your sink and take your contacts out. Click. Click. The front door. Nancy must be here.

You quickly throw the lenses into a small trash can and scamper into the shower. Luckily the water is nice and warm now so you aren’t entering a cold shower. Closing the glass door behind you, you splash some water onto the two glass walls of the shower to make it seem like you’ve been in there for a bit.

Soon enough the door to the bathroom creaks open, but you pretend not to hear it. With some shampoo in your hands, you lather your head thoroughly. You begin to pick up what sounds like different articles of clothing quietly hitting the floor. Some heavier than others signaling that Nancy is trying to be quiet and sneak up on you.

You decide to play along and have some fun with it. Keeping your back turned to her, you continue to wash yourself. A sudden rush of cold air enters the almost sauna-like shower.

Wasting no time, a pair of hands reach around and caress your chest before working their way down the front of your body. A soft hum comes from your closed mouth and they reach your hardening cock. One hand slowly begins to pump as the other one massages your balls.

Your eyes flutter closed as the hand that was gliding up and down your shaft begins to fist the head of your cock.

“Fuck that feels so good…” you let out breathily as you slowly begin to hump into her hand.

“Mmmm now I see why Nancy wanted you to move in with her so badly.” A voice different from your girlfriend says in a sensual tone.

Your eyes snap open and you spin around to see Ahin completely naked standing in the shower with you. The blonde woman stands there with lustful eyes as she scans you up and down, like an animal examining its prey.

You take a step back out of the water and retreat under the showerhead. Ahin doesn’t flinch to walk into the warm water and let it cascade over her body. Streams flow between her soft mounds then down her tight stomach, before they finally reach her thighs. Not a single drop goes down her body and hits the drain without you staring at it. It’s just water after all.

“I know Nancy wanted it to be a surprise tomorrow, but I just couldn’t wait any longer. Teasing you the last few days has been way too much fun, and I know you can’t take your eyes off me.”

“N-nancy wanted it to be a surprise tomorrow? W-what does that mean?” you stutter out while this goddess of a woman pulls her wet hair back so none of it is in her face.

“Nancy wanted to give you a really nice birthday present,” Ahin says as she steps forward out of the water and places her hands on the tiled wall behind your head, “and asked if I could help her give it to you. But I really couldn’t help myself after seeing your little note.”

Ahin reaches down and wraps her hands around your cock. Her hands corkscrew in opposite directions as they glide up and down the length of your rock hard shaft. Your head lurches back against the tiled wall, closing your eyes from the pleasure of her soft hands..

Wasting no time,Ahin latches onto your exposed neck and begins kissing upwards along your jawline. “So if you’re willing… to keep a secret… till tomorrow… you and I… can have a little fun… before Nancy gets back…” Ahin says in between each of her kisses.

In a flash Ahin is on her knees in front of you. She releases your cock and takes her boobs before she sandwiches your cock between them. Nancy has done this for you many times before, but there was something different about the way Ahin felt. Maybe the pressure, the movement, it may just be doing it in the shower that made the difference. Whatever the reason, it feels immaculate.

“Jesus Christ,” you hiss out.

“You like that oppa? You’ve been staring at them all week so I thought you’d enjoy this.”

Unable to fully respond, your groans are enough to let her know you want her to continue. Regaining enough composure, you look down at Ahin. She stares right at you, studying the slightest movements in your body while taking mental notes of what you seem to be fond of. A big grin appears on her face right before she quickens her pace causing your face to contort in pleasure.

With all of your blood rushing out of your head and the heat that is sitting inside of the shower, you lose all inhibition against the bombshell throwing herself at you. You reach down and grab Ahin’s wrists, bringing her back onto her feet. You pull them above your head to spin her around, then you pull them back down, locking them behind her back. Her ragged breath fogs up the glass while her tits press up against the cold glass shower wall.

"That’s it oppa. Fuck me like I know you want to," Ahin says in a lurid tone as she sticks her ass out to sandwich your cock in between her plump ass and your stomach. You let go of her wrists and bring your hands around to cup her breasts.

She lets out a pained whine when you squeeze her soft tits. 

“If we do this, we have to tell Nancy as soon as she gets back,” you grunt out as Ahin grinds her ass up against you.

“I have a better idea.” Ahin smirks as she pulls away from you and reaches out of the shower door and grabs her phone. She opens up her camera then grabs your hand and puts it on her supple breast. 

“Well come on! Get in frame,” she says looking back at you. Maybe you shouldn’t send something like this to your girlfriend. “Trust me Nancy will love this.” 

Still unsure about how this might play out you can tell that Ahin won’t let this go. You reposition yourself so you can see your face in the picture. Ahin poses seductively with one hand wrapped around your dick and another hand stroking the opposite tit to the one you’re grabbing. Giving a smirk and wink to the camera she snaps the picture.

Ahin takes her hand off your dick and begins to fiddle with her phone. A few seconds later she reaches back out of the shower door and places it on the sink counter. “There that should get her home faster,” she says as she turns back to you.

Without hesitation, Ahin throws her arms around your neck and pulls you in for a kiss. At this point you’ve given up on resisting her advances and wrap your arms around her waist to pull her deeper into your lip’s embrace. The faint taste of cherries passes across your tongue as you work her lips open and invade her mouth. Ahin moans as your hands find purchase on her plump ass to pull her up on her tiptoes.

“God, I need you to stick this in me right fucking now.” She moans as turns around and places her hands on the glass wall.

“No. I want to do it over here.” You pull her through the water so you're both under its warm current. Ahin lets out a little yelp but it turns into a giggle as she realizes what you are doing. She then places her hands along the tiled wall and arches her back so her ass sticks out for you.

“Now fill me up oppa,” she says, looking back over her shoulder.

You line up with her folds as the water rushes down her back and over her ass. Wanting to tease her a bit, you slowly push the head of your cock into her, causing a long moan to escape her mouth. Inch by inch, you sink into her warm velvety cavern as Ahin tries to push back against you to speed up the process. However, you hold her hips in place and continue until you hilt inside her. Ahin lets out a satisfied moan when your thick cock fills her. You hold her there a moment, enjoying the feeling of her walls stretching around your length.

Pulling your hips back till your head is the only part that remains inside her, you snap your hips forward. Your pelvis and her ass clap loudly at your force, splashing water as you relentlessly thrust. A yelp escapes Ahin’s lips, invigorating you even more. You build a steady rhythm as you continue to make Ahin moan. Her warm walls feel tighter than Nancy’s, clinging to your cock in an almost desperate manner. 

You lean over Ahin’s back and kiss the back of her neck as you continue to thrust into her. Her big beautiful breasts swing back and forth putting you in a trance. You swear you could hear them calling out to you, begging you to grab them and fill your hands with her smooth tits.

As you grasp each one in your hands you begin to knead them, making Ahin sigh in bliss. Wanting to earn even more a reaction out of her, you pinch her stiff nipples with your index and thumb and pull on them lightly. Your reward is given quickly when Ahin’s legs quiver at the pleasure mounting from your fingers and your pistoning shaft. She takes one hand off the wall and circles, clit with it.

“Oh SHIT! Just like that… don’t stop… please don’t stop,” Ahin chants as she is pushed closer and closer to the edge.

Not needing to be told twice, you double your efforts and place one hand on her shoulder and return the other to her hip giving yourself better leverage. Long and hard strokes into her tight cavern aim for the same sensitive spot every time. Each thrust causes Ahin’s body to lunge forward slightly, moving her up onto her tiptoes. 

Suddenly, Ahin lets out a loud moan as her walls begin to clamp down around your cock. You feel your balls begin to tighten while the muscles in your groin begin to burn. Her orgasm doesn’t stop you from thrusting with all your might and your own climax soon follows. You pull out of Ahin and stroke yourself as you aim your dick at her back. Long streaks of white arc across her back and ass when you are sent over the edge.

Breathing heavily, Ahin turns around and leans against the wall as you place a hand beside her head to steady yourself as you try to gain some composure back. 

“Holy shit Ahin. That felt amazing.” you pant. Her hazel eyes pierce yours, your vision returning from a blur.

Ahin smirks and begins to move in for a kiss but stops just short of your lips, tilting her head to look over your shoulder with a sly smile.

“Finally decided to join us Nancy?” Ahin says in a joking manner.

You spin around to see your girlfriend standing there with an annoyed look on her face. Her arms are crossed, lifting her chest up, as her foot taps the ground snappily. Before you can say anything Nancy cuts in.

“Really Ahin! I told you to just hold it in till tomorrow and you’d get to have all the fun you wanted with us. But noooooooo I guess you couldn’t silence that inner slut of yours for just one more night.”

You and Ahin stand there in stunned silence looking at Nancy as her eyes dart between the two of you. You look back at Ahin with a look that says “I thought you said this was okay!” This deafening quietness is broken by Nancy once again.

“Alright fine. He can just have it tonight… But you owe me a round before you get both of us,” Nancy says as she pulls her shirt over her head and tosses it to the floor and turns to walk out.

Ahin tries to hold in a giggle.

“Well come on oppa! I know you’ve got way more stamina than that!” Nancy calls out from inside your bedroom.

You're stuck in place, with the water still running down your back, baffled at what you just heard.

“See oppa~ I told you she would like the text,” Ahin whispers before giving you a quick kiss on the cheek and scooting around you to exit the shower. She grabs a dry towel off the rack and pats herself down before following Nancy into the bedroom.

Still trying to comprehend what just transpired, you still can’t move as all of your mental capacity is being diverted to understanding the situation you’re in. Your girlfriend asked her best friend to come over and stay with you until your birthday so she could surprise you with a threesome. Not only that, but she also told Ahin to tease you regularly, wanting you riled up for what was coming. Then, it hits you. There are two unbelievably attractive women waiting for you in your bedroom.

You cut the shower off and almost slip with how quickly you step out of the shower. Steadying yourself on the towel rack you grab a dry towel and run it across your body quickly before running through the doorway into your bedroom.

Both women lie on their sides and face one another, exposed fully for you on the bed. Their round plump asses stick out at you and reveal just how wet each of them are. Ahin has her hand on Nancy’s thigh caressing it up and down as the two of them look at you with eyes full of want and desire.

“Come on now. Don’t keep her waiting any longer,” Ahin giggles as you step towards your girlfriend.

As you put a knee on the bed and begin to lean over Nancy, she places a hand on your chest and looks you in the eyes.

“Uh uh. Lay down, you got to have your fun with Ahin and now I want to have my fun with you,” Nancy says pushing you back.

Something primal must've washed over her. When you lay back to let Nancy have control, she crawls over you and looks at you as something she needs to mark as her own. Watching you and Ahin for that brief moment in the shower made her desire grow further. 

Her thick thighs press against your legs when she straddles you. Nancy leans, down placing her hands beside your head. You watch her hair fall along the sides of her face as she moves in closer. Her breath is brief on your face before her soft lips make contact with yours. You instinctively push your head off the bed to deepen the kiss, while your hands find their way to the small of her back pulling her into you. 

Nancy quickly counters your movements in an attempt to maintain control by pushing her tongue into your mouth. The two muscles wrestle with one another, battling for dominance. Your hands slide down Nancy’s back till they reach her round, firm ass. You give it a solid squeeze once they make it there, earning a muffled moan from your girlfriend.

Sensing she is losing control, she pulls away from your kiss and gazes intently into your eyes while breathing heavily. She then sits upright on your lap and maneuvers one of her hands behind her and in between your leg grabbing your hard cock. 

Still slick with Ahin’s juices, your dick slides into Nancy’s tight pussy with ease as her muscles grip it firmly. You both let out moans and groans while she sinks down onto your cock letting it fill her up. You start to move your legs up so you can plant your feet into the mattress, but you’re stopped when Nancy takes your hands off of her ass and pins them above your head.

“Oh no no, you need to be punished for starting without me. It was supposed to be a surprise for tomorrow,” she says looking back at Ahin who is intently watching the two of you but then averts her gaze when Nancy leers at her, “but since that was spoiled I want to have some fun before you get to have yours.”

All you can do is nod at her request. Nancy then moves her hands to your chest as she raises up onto her feet to squat while making sure to keep your dick inside her.

“Don’t move those hands until I say so. Got it oppa,” Nancy says in an authoritative manner.

“Yes, Nancy.”

Nancy then picks her ass up off of you before slamming it back down, spearing your dick deep into her wet walls. A long moan followed by some quick breaths escape Nancy’s lips before she begins the process again. A steady bouncing rhythm starts to form as her tits bounce up and down with her movements. Your eyes dart from the contorted face of your girlfriend to her boobs to your glistening cock appearing and disappearing into the soaked cavern it so desires to be in.

All of Nancy’s focus seems to be on her maintaining her ability to continue bouncing on your cock, so when Ahin sneaks beside you she doesn't seem to notice or care. Ahin crawls behind your head and looks down at you smiling devilishly. She hangs one of her large boobs only an inch or so away from your mouth. Her head is over your chest looking down at you, while you struggle to maintain the promise of not moving for Nancy.

“Go on oppa. As long as you don’t move your hands until Nancy says, you can do whatever you want with them.”

You look back to Nancy whose head is completely arched back. She has returned to her previous position and now straddles you with her meaty thighs and continues to bounce herself on your dick. You quickly dart your head up and capture Ahin’s large, round breast in your mouth. Ahin obviously needed some sort of stimulation because as soon as you latched onto her nipple and your tongue began making erratic movements over it, she let out a pleasurable sigh.

“Mmmm that’s a good boy,” Ahin muses as you eagerly devour her sweet tasting skin.

You can hardly contain yourself from sitting still any longer and decide to help both women out. Planting your feet into the mattress you begin to thrust upwards into Nancy with reckless abandon. If Nancy can’t get a word out then she couldn’t scold you for moving when she told you not to. Nancy’s moans rise another octave as you relentlessly pound into her. You can tell she is getting extremely close to climaxing when her walls start to throb around your dick.

Before Ahin has a chance to say anything either, you wrap your arms around her, pulling her soft globes deeper onto your face. Not expecting it, Ahin is forced prone with her boobs squished against you, almost suffocating you. You wiggle your face into her cleavage where you kiss and lick at whatever skin your mouth can reach.

“So this is what you were warning me about Nancy?” Ahin asks giggling.

Nancy is now matching the timing of your thrusts with her own as her legs tighten around your waist. Her breathing has become so rapid and shallow you're surprised she isn't passing out.

"Cumming," airlessly exhales Nancy through gritted teeth.

She spreads her legs wide as they begin quivering. You slow your pace as you let the wave of gasps wash over you while Nancy's body is gyrating out. You try to keep your mind focused on not cumming yourself.

Nancy takes a moment to collect herself before lifting up off of your cock, which slaps wetly against your stomach as it exits Nancy. Ahin quickly lunges forward and takes it into her mouth, slurping hungrily at your cock covered with Nancy’s fresh juices.

“Fuuuuuucckkk,” is all you can manage to let out as she deepthroats your cock. Your hands run through your own hair as you continue to stave off the urge to cum again so quickly. Ahin’s tongue glides over every inch of your cock, wanting to taste as much of Nancy as she can. 

Breathing heavily, Nancy lays on her side beside you looking at you and your pained expression.

“You better be saving that load for me. If Ahin gets two before I get my first I may just completely drain you out tonight.”

The dirty talk Nancy adds on top of Ahin’s glorious mouth working on your cock does not make it any easier. Luckily for you, your girlfriend sees how hard you are trying to hold off and gives Ahin a firm slap on her ass.

“That’s enough you little slut. Give him a break.”

Ahin lets your dick out of her mouth with a little pop. “Aw, but hearing his moans was so much fun.”

“I think it’s time we let him have his fun with us,” Nancy says to her friend as she gets on her knees next to you, “Get off of him so he can stand up.” 

Nancy jokingly pushes Ahin off of you, sending her rolling on her side snickering.

“Alright oppa, go ahead and stand up at the foot of the bed.” Nancy says as she looks down at you.

You sit up and scootch your way to the edge of the bed before standing up and turning back around to face the women. They both look lustfully at your cast-iron cock standing proud covered in a mixture of Ahin’s saliva and Nancy’s juices while dripping with pre-cum. Without saying a word to one another, you watch as the two gorgeous women position themselves for you.

Ahin lays on her back with her feet over the edge of the bed, while Nancy crawls on top of her, straddling her waist and sticking her plump ass out at you. Nancy shakes her ass inviting you to join them. You approach the two of them and drop to one knee before affixing your face into Ahin’s wet folds and sticking your tongue out. Ahin lets a breathy moan out as you run your tongue upwards through her folds and then in one motion do the same to Nancy’s coaxing a similar moan from her. 

The two distinct tastes linger on your tongue as you raise back up and position your cock at Ahin’s pussy lips. With one thrust you hilt into Ahin making the girl’s head snap back against the bed when you hit her g-spot directly. A guttural moan rips out of her vocal cords as you begin to hammer away at her soaking pussy.

“Looks like he chose me first,” Ahin says between heavy breaths and moans, taunting Nancy.

“He just wants to make sure he finishes in me,” Nancy quickly snaps back.

Being so close already, you can’t stay inside of Ahin’s tight walls for very long. As you continue to thrust into Ahin you lean over Nancy’s back and whisper into her ear.

“The faster you make her cum, the faster I get to cum in you.” 

Nancy gets a sly smirk on her face before sliding her hand down Ahin’s tight stomach. As soon as she reaches her clit, Ahin looks at Nancy with wanton eyes when she nods her head and bites her bottom lip. You feel Nancy’s hand working on Ahin as you continue to bottom out into her with long, hard thrusts. Soon enough, Ahin’s velvet walls constrict around your cock as you struggle to thrust in and out. You watch her legs shake as she hits another climax tonight, this one seeming to hit her harder than the one in the shower had.

Slowing your pace, you let her orgasm ride itself out before you pull out of Ahin and immediately thrust into Nancy.

“Don’t hold back baby. Fucking tear that pussy up.”

Your hips take off in a bestial lust as you fuck your girlfriend. You place both of your hands on Nancy’s ass and spread it apart as you piston in and out of her. Her moans are like music to your ears. Mixed with the sounds of Ahin’s still heavy breathing, you can hardly contain yourself any longer.

You wrap your arms around her torso, pressing into her back. She turns her head and arches her neck back just enough for you to capture her lips and push your tongue in. Looking up at this hot scene, Ahin wants to get in on the action and latches onto one of Nancy’s perfect, round orbs.

Almost as soon as you release Nancy’s lips, your girlfriend pulls Ahin off of her tit and pushes her tongue into Ahin’s mouth. Ahin happily accepts it with a smile and continues to play with her friend’s boobs. 

Smirking, you unravel your arms from around Nancy and bring them to Ahin’s tits. They are jiggling slightly from the rocking your thrusts into Nancy’s tight cunt. You start by pinching her nipples and attain a second muffled moaning girl underneath you. Ahin’s face scrunches as both her and Nancy let out pleasured whines in between the breaths they take.

The slick walls of your girlfriend's pussy along with both girls’ muffled moans are enough to finally spell your end.

“I’m about to cum.” You say thrusting more erratically.

Nancy quickly pulls away from Ahin and looks back over her shoulder at you.

“Give it to me baby. Fill me up. I need it.”

It only takes a few more thrusts before you’re buried as deep in as you can, and you tremble as your cock throbs, releasing a monumental load of sperm into Nancy. You put your face close to Nancy's and let out a breathy moan as she does likewise.

You stay intertwined with increasingly soft pulses coming from your sensitive dick. Eventually you pull out, all three of you collapsing on the bed.

Ahin and Nancy take their place beside you after you crawl to the middle of the bed. You lay an arm out for each of them and they both cuddle up to you as you pull them in close. 

“How was it oppa?” Nancy asks looking up at you.

“If this is what I get on the day before my birthday, I can’t wait to see what I get tomorrow.”

A/N - Hey everyone~ I’m finally back with a new piece! I hope you all have been well and enjoyed this oneshot that I started wayyyyy back in August before my account was all sorts of fucked up. I’m happy to say I’m back now and will hopefully be able to spend more time with you guys this upcoming semester. I want to give a huge shout out to @worldsover​ and @nsfwflint​ who really went ham when editing and fixed a LOT of my poor writing after being gone for so long. Like always feel free to leave any suggestions/thoughts/comments either below this post or in asks if you’d rather stay an anon. Thanks for reading and stay happy and healthy!

[kyuuppi]

vegetable stew

Pairing: Kenma x Reader (f)

Contents: hurt/comfort; angst and fluff; body dysmorphia; eating disorder (negative thoughts, fat shaming, insecurity, mentions of starvation)

Word Count: 2.1k

Kenma has always been observant.

It was a large part of his success as a setter and even now his keen observational skills contribute to his career as a professional gamer. He tends to notice things others don’t and lately that means noticing how you’ve changed.

The more he thinks about it the more difficult it is to pinpoint the exact starting point of your behavior. Haven’t you always preferred baggy clothing?

He remembers the pretty blue sweater you used to treasure back in high school, wearing it every chance you got as soon as the weather report hinted at anything lower than 10°C. He loved that sweater too—not just because of the cute sweater paws it gave you or how it almost completely covered the shorts you wore beneath, offering an unobstructed view of your shapely thighs—but instead he relished in the way it seemed to make you feel. The confidence and joy in your expression was clear as day when you wore your favorite outfits and early on in your relationship he had quickly learned that somehow your happiness was synonymous to his own.

Hence Kenma’s current frustrations in seeing that spark of joy and self-confidence gradually diminishing in the past several weeks.

Although that particular sweater had long since left your wardrobe within the first few years of university, as well-loved and worn out as it was, the more recent favorites of yours have also seemed to have gone lately. It had been a while since you had worn the short yellow polka dot dress you had been so eager to show Kenma the first day you got back from the mall with your roommates. Every pair of shorts and colorful tennis skirts had also left your weekly rotation, leaving behind only dull sweatshirts with childhood cartoon characters and baggy joggers.

Objectively, Kenma hardly cared about what you wore. If fastening a potato sack around your form made you happy, Kenma wouldn’t bat an eye—the problem stemmed from the fact these clothes didn’t make you happy. Moreover, the bland clothing brought with them their own slew of behavioral changes.

You no longer wished to go out and you avoided taking pictures of yourself, your social media suffering from an obvious lack of cheeky selfies or “outfit of the day” posts as of late. However, the most concerning change of all was your refusal to eat.

Kenma had a habit of forgetting to eat himself. He rarely felt the mild twinges of hunger, his attention generally hyper-focused on something else whether it was a game, a video needing editing, or a class project he had pushed off for far too long. It was only when his own stomach growling would startle him or the hunger pains got unbearable that he would acknowledge the human requirement of sustenance (not that the instant ramen in his cabinets provided much nutrients anyhow).

You were much more in tune with your body and, unlike him, you looked forward to eating; scheduled your days around it, even.

Your mornings began with a balanced breakfast—a meal Kenma was rarely even awake in time for—followed by a generous lunch break in which you would intentionally put everything on pause. Regardless of how much work you had to do you always made time to put everything down and have a decent lunch. It was good for your soul, you would say. A time to live in the moment and relieve yourself of stress.

For dinner you often made it a point to eat with others, whether it was going to a rowdy Korean BBQ with some friends or a dinner date at home with just him, you enjoyed sharing a meal surrounded by the people you love. On top of it all, you frequently had snacks: small bags of crackers, slices of fruit, or a few cookies you made yourself.

You loved cooking almost as much as you loved eating; most of the times he invited you over you brought a large bag with you filled to the brim with ingredients he wouldn’t have a clue what to do with. You would chastise him about his awful eating habits, grimacing at the ramen and chip wrappers overflowing in the kitchen trash can before you diligently prepare a meal for you both, healthy and flavorful, full of the vegetables he hadn’t had since the last time he went home to visit his mom.

You made him look forward to meal times too, if only to see the way you light up when he compliments your cooking or the pure bliss when you take the first bite of your favorite side dish. Eating with you became one of his favorite parts of the day.

And so that last time you made him dinner—a steaming plate of curry with shrimp tempura—the normally delicious food suddenly turned sour on his tongue when he realized you had only made him dinner.

“I’m just not very hungry today,” you had assured him with a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

Foolishly, he hadn’t said anything at the time.

Maybe you had a large lunch, maybe you had a stomach ache, maybe you just didn’t want curry today—at that point in time he had no reason to think there was something seriously wrong. He had no reason to think you were starving yourself.

It wasn’t until weeks later when all the evidence stacked up, the many different signs piecing themselves together like a puzzle until it was impossible not to see the picture, even if a few were still missing.

Your baggy clothing, your refusal to eat anything, your off-handed comments about how the female characters in whatever fighting game he was playing had such nice figures—it became crystal clear what you were doing and it made him feel sick.

Kenma doesn’t generally care about others’ looks; he tends to worry more on how he is perceived than how he perceives others but he is confident that he rather likes your body as it is. He would rather die than admit how often he finds his gaze wandering when your legs are bare or how his eyes naturally trace the curve of your waist down to the width of your hips his fingers twitch to touch—he has had many thoughts about your body, none of which have ever been negative.

Even so, he doesn’t mind if you want to change yourself. He isn’t foolish enough to think he has the right to dictate how you decide to present yourself to this world, but he refuses to allow the reason for your change to be one that stems from low self-esteem or insecurity.

When you step into Kenma’s apartment, weary from a long day of classes and the extra hours spent at the gym, the last thing you expect is to be greeted by the scent of some type of stew, warm and hearty. Your stomach clenches longingly but you quickly reprimand yourself—you already reached your tiny caloric limit for the day.

You have hardly made it into the living room when Kenma comes out from the kitchen, dyed hair tied in a low bun but messy, several strands poking out and sticking across his sweaty forehead. A dark blue apron is tied around his waist and his right hand holds a ladle, the perfect image of a frazzled housewife. If you weren’t so shocked by the scene you would have laughed.

“Welcome back,” he greets softly.

“Are you...cooking something?”

Kenma looks slightly embarrassed by your incredulous tone but not offended. In all the years you have known Kenma you have never seen him in the kitchen for longer than the three minutes required to heat up a bowl of noodles. Him slaving away in front of the stove for a bowl of homemade soup is nearly unfathomable to you.

“Vegetable stew...it’s my mom’s recipe,” your boyfriend explains sheepishly.

The mental image of Kenma shyly FaceTiming his mother as she patiently walks him through chopping up carrots and mixing spices makes your lips twitch upwards and you make your way past him to curiously survey his work.

“You didn’t have to go through the effort, I could have cooked you something, y’know,” you comment as you lean over the large pot on the stove.

The contents are a rich brown color with hints of potatoes, carrots, and onions peaking out. You’re gifted another pang of hunger and you quickly step back as if it would prevent you from falling into temptation.

Kenma quietly slips into the kitchen directly behind you, his chest nearly brushing your arm as he speaks.

“It's okay, I wanted to cook for us this time.”

You freeze.

Immediately, you break into a cold sweat, the prospect of eating sending you into a state of anxiety. You can’t eat—you don’t deserve to eat. Not when your arms are so flabby, your waist so undefined, your inner thighs so close to each other—

“I appreciate it,” you start.

Your voice sounds unnaturally high even to your own ears.

“But I’m not hungry—I had a really big lunch.”

Turning, you try to offer him an apologetic smile but his face looks off. His lips are pulled into a slight frown and his eyes seem to be looking through you, as if he knows you’re lying.

“Y/n...I don’t like what you’re doing.”

You attempt to laugh but it comes out hollow.

“I’m not doing anything bad, just dieting a bit.”

“I think you’re being a little extreme.”

You huff, starting to feel defensive. You don’t want to have this conversation, not now, not ever.

“Kenma, I’m totally fine, I promise.”

“I’m worried about you,” he insists.

“I’m telling you there’s nothing to worry about, I’m being safe.”

“Skipping meals isn’t healthy.”

“Kenma, being this fat isn’t healthy!”

The words escape before you can think to stop them and you can already feel the shame pricking at your eyes as you turn away. You don’t want to see your boyfriend’s look of disgust once he realizes you’re right, once he realizes how fat and unattractive his girlfriend is. Kenma is skinny, he deserves a petite girlfriend who is just as tiny, a girl with slender legs that look cute in shorts and a stomach that lays flat regardless of the time of day. He deserves the sexy girls in his video games, in shape from years of training and perfected suited for tight leather bikini tops.

You don’t realize you’re shaking until Kenma wraps his arms around your shoulders, burying his face into the side of your neck. He lets out a shuttered sigh and if you didn’t know any better you’d think he’s crying as well.

“I love you,” he murmurs against your skin, “and I don’t like seeing you hurting yourself. If you want to lose weight, I’ll help you. We can make healthy foods together and eat them together and exercise together—just please stop skipping meals.”

Your throat feels like it's stuffed with cotton so you can only nod in agreement, raising one hand to weakly wipe at the hot tears staining your cheeks.

The two of you stand like that, huddled in the middle of the kitchen, for several long minutes until the last of your tears have gone before Kenma gently pushes you to sit down at the coffee table. He prepares two steaming bowls full of vegetable stew for you both and you silently eat as Kenma tells you how low calorie the broth is and how many nutrients his mom said were in the vegetables he used. He tells you about a new fitness game on the Nintendo Switch that you two can play together. By the time you finish your meals, Kenma has already promised to wake up early to go jogging around the neighborhood together even though you know he absolutely hates waking up early and exercising when he doesn’t have to.

Your chest aches with how much he loves you, how far he’s willing to go just if he thinks it will help you and make you happy.

A small part of your mind begs you not to listen. It insists you’ll be fat forever if you don’t starve yourself; no pain, no gain. But the more rational part of you gazes into those soft golden eyes, filled with concern and love as he rambles on about the best sources of protein—all stuff he had learned from his professional volleyball player friend Hinata—and you know your answer.

Kenma loves you, he would do anything to see you happy and healthy and you would do anything to please him.

You love him more than you hate yourself.

[harrysweasleys]

yellow sundress // f.w

summary: fred spots you at bill and fleur’s wedding and can’t keep you off his mind.

warnings: none

word count: 3.2k

a/n: let’s all pretend there’s no war and the wedding doesn’t end horribly, shall we? (for my own sanity, of course) :) xx enjoy!

—

Fred was happy for his brother, really. Bill was always the most mature of the Weasley clan — well, according to Molly, anyways. Always boasting about how Bill had his life in order and how he’d go on to do great things. So, although Fred grew up feeling slightly envious of his big brother, today he was happy. Happy for him and happy that there was finally something for the family to celebrate.

He had found himself rather excited the morning of the wedding. Him and George had spent the night at the burrow — Molly’s orders — so they could prepare and set up the tent bright and early. Arrangements for the wedding had been made very last minute indeed, so the panic and rush was still happening hours before the happy couple were to say ‘I do.’

The early morning grass was still wet with dew drops, shimmering like little diamonds under the hazy sunshine. The field was quiet except for the occasional caw of a bird or the screech of an insect. 

Though sunny, it wasn’t overly warm. Fred found it just comfortable to wear a long sleeved shirt under his waistcoat, preventing goosebumps from rising on his skin every time the morning breeze rolled around. There wasn’t much heavy lifting to be done, thanks to magic, so Fred found himself sitting back with his brothers, only ever occasionally giving a lazy flick of his wand to pitch in.

“So, no date?” Ron walked up to Fred, crossing his arms across his chest and giving his brother a small smirk as they finished pinning the tent into the ground.

Fred scoffed, “Coming from you?”

Ron rolled his eyes, “You’re older than me, you need to get a move on. Maybe you’re next,” he joked, motioning his hands to the wedding preparations.

Fred fought the urge to smack him across the back of the head, “You hilarious little git.”

Ron’s laughter echoed in Fred’s ears, a taunting reminder that he indeed did not have someone in his life. Someone that he could have on his arm right now, someone that he could end up dancing the night away with. Although Fred teased Ron about his bad luck with women, he knew his little brother fancied Hermione, and she felt the same way back. It was only a matter of time before the two ran off into the sunset together, really.

Fred scoffed at the thought of his youngest brother getting married before him.

The tent was up and ready in no time, a few of the distant Weasley cousins and some old school friends of Bill’s already underneath it, setting up tables and chairs so that there was room for people to sit. 

Molly called his name from inside the house, her head sticking out of the kitchen window and her arms waving wildly; a clear sign to Fred that he should rush over.

“What is it?” he asked as he entered through the doorway, ducking his head to avoid hitting one of the wooden beams hanging low by the kitchen entrance. A beam that he had whacked his heads so many times on when he was growing up that he was surprised his Boggart didn’t turn into it when he was still in school.

“Carry these out!” Molly huffed, shoving multiple large trays of goods into his arms, her hair sticking out all over the place and her apron stained with icing and different kinds of sauces.

Fred agreed, walking ever so slowly out of the house and placing the heavy, unbalanced trays on the closest table he could find, not wishing to spill anything and unleash his mother’s wrath so early in the day. He let out a long sigh as he looked around at the ongoing preparations, the sun now higher in the sky and making it easier to do things under the bright light.

Too occupied with watching over everything, he hadn’t noticed a body approach him and stand by his side.

“Fred Weasley, as I live and breathe,” a soft voice caught Fred out of his daze, blinking his eyes to refocus as he looked down to face the person who had nearly startled him. 

You were standing there, hair tied back loosely and a bright smile on your face. You were wearing a light yellow sundress, a cardigan sitting on your shoulders as you held onto a small clutch purse. Though Fred didn’t know his perfumes, he could smell a sweet mixture of honey and rose coming from your direction. A smell that Fred, up until this point, never considered to be beautiful. But as he looked down at you, your expectant eyes awaiting an answer, Fred found that everything about you was beautiful. 

“Do we know each other?” Fred asked lamely, internally rolling his eyes at himself. He had a feeling that if he had seen you before, he wouldn’t have forgotten. 

Your smile changed from soft to amused, “I see I didn’t make a lasting impression,” Fred felt his own lips turn downwards into a frown as you let out a small giggle, “We went to Hogwarts together.”

He scanned you up and down trying to find anything that could spark recognition, but he failed, “Were we in the same year?”

You shook your head, “I was below you. The year below you, I mean. Not — I — you know what I meant. I’m Y/N.”

Fred felt a smile take over his face as you looked down to the ground, “It’s lovely to meet you, Y/N.”

“Technically, we’ve met before,” you pointed out, a sly grin on your lips, “I was also there when the goblet of fire ejected you as an old man. Classic, really.”

Rubbing the back of his neck and laughing sheepishly, Fred cursed his younger self for acting like such a fool, “Not one of my brightest moments, I must admit.”

You let out a bubbly laugh and Fred swore he lost his breath.

“I found it amusing. Never dull, you two.”

A sense of pride buzzed in Fred’s chest, glad that he could make some amusing memories for you. Glad that you even remembered him. How Fred never noticed you while at school, he’ll never be able to answer.

“Well,” you adjusted your cardigan around yourself and gave him a little wave, “I’ll see you later. I’ve got to go help Fleur.”

Before he could bid you bye, you scurried off into the house. He heard you and Molly greet each other before the sound of your footsteps rushing up the stairs echoed throughout the house and through the open window.

A grin was still on Fred’s face long after you were gone. What it was about you, he didn’t know. But he couldn’t remember ever being so intrigued by a person before after such a short encounter. You had completely captivated him in the two minute conversation that was shared. Fred, who had made it this long without being in a serious relationship or committing to anyone, suddenly had an overwhelming urge to get to know you better.

—

Silent conversations bled throughout the seated crowd, everyone chatting quietly with the people around them as they awaited the ceremony to begin. Half of the people were familiar, but the other half were Fleur’s invites. People that none of the Weasley family had ever met — people who, as they scanned their surroundings, clearly still weren’t overly fond about having a wedding outside an old house in the middle of a field.

Old school friends gathered left and right, greeting each other and reminiscing about fond memories. Memories that, in this moment, felt so distant and gone. As if school was ages ago instead of only a year and a bit. A lot had changed over the course of twelve months

Without really knowing he was doing it, Fred’s bored eyes scanned the crowd, looking out for the familiar yellow dress. He had already greeted everyone that figured there was no point in getting up to talk if the ceremony was minutes away from starting.

“Looking for someone?” George poked him on the shoulder, a crooked smirk on his face. He couldn’t give a proper one — the bandage wrapped tightly around his head prevented him from doing so.

“Do you remember an Y/N when we were at Hogwarts?” Fred asked, eyes turning to his twin.

George nodded, “Yeah. Wasn’t she friends with Ginny and Luna?”

“Blimey, I need a better memory,” Fred frowned. He had never raked through his brain more than in the last hour, trying to find any sort of scrap, but had very little success.

“Why?” George wiggled his eyebrows, “Someone looking for her?”

Fred rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair, not answering his brother. Not that he had the chance, really, as the scent of honey and rose filled his senses once again, your bright yellow dress catching his attention from the corner of his eye. He hadn’t even noticed the empty chair next to him, but as you took your seat there, he was thankful that it had been empty.

“Oh, hey,” you smiled, removing your cardigan and placing it on the back of your chair, “Were you saving this seat? Sorry, there’s nowhere else.”

“No,” Fred muttered quickly, “You can sit here.”

George let out a low chuckle and Fred imagined himself turning around and whacking him across the head. But, fortunately for George, the very image stayed in his mind.

The ceremony began shortly after, but Fred couldn’t focus much. Only when you nudged him in the side and told him to stand for Fleur’s entrance did he notice how zoned out he really was.

His cheeks and ears felt warm but he was lucky you didn’t notice, a wide grin on your face and your eyes slightly watery as you watched Fleur walk down the aisle, an equally happy Bill watching her every movement with such love in his eyes, even Fred couldn’t help but feel the overwhelming emotions.

They said their ‘I do’s’ and the ceremony came to a close an hour later, everyone clapping loudly.

You disappeared into the crowd and Fred made his way to the reception tent, finding his table and sitting with the rest of his siblings. The atmosphere was calm, soothing, and the music gave a pleasant echo of fun. Having not been to many weddings before — or any, really — Fred didn’t know what to expect. He thought it would be loud, chaotic, and people would be toppling over each other on the dance floor.

That, however, was not the case.

As the afternoon turned to early evening, a few couples had come and gone from the dance floor, a few meals had been eaten, and the music playlist continued to produce a good enough array of songs for Fred not to become overly bored. Molly had strongly suggested playing Celestina Warbeck and was still bitter that Fleur rejected her upfront, but she seemed to be enjoying the evening as she moved to the music on the dance floor alongside her husband.

“You gonna ask Hermione to dance?” George nudged Ron in the side, Fred chuckling at his younger brother’s clear discomfort.

Ron’s cheeks flared pink, “Blood hell, no. She’s with Krum.”

The three of them looked over to the centre of the tent where, in fact, Hermione was laughing and dancing with the Bulgarian seeker. The one that Fred had listened to Ron whine about for hours on end in his sixth year.

“Come on, Ronniekins. You could out dance him,” Fred smirked, teasing him.

Giving him the best glare he could muster, Ron grumbled, “Hope she steps on his big feet.”

Fred let out a small laugh and turned back to face the dance floor, his eyes immediately finding you. He tried telling himself it was due to your dress, but that was only because he didn’t want to admit how beautiful he found you. How he currently wanted nothing more than to rush over there and ask you to dance.

Odd, Fred thought, I’ve never wanted to dance with anyone.

“What about you Freddie?” Ron turned the attention away from him, “I see you eyeing her. Just go ask her to dance or I’ll go do it for you and I reckon I’d make it way more bloody awkward.”

Trying his best to act nonchalant, Fred grumbled, “I dunno what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, really?” George’s eyes sparkled with mischief and as much as Fred usually liked that, he didn’t like it so much right now, “Then you wont mind if I go talk to her—”

“Sit down, you git,” he snapped quietly, eyes darting away from where you were standing and chatting with Luna before he glared daggers at his two sniggering brothers, “Both of you need to shut it.”

“Just go,” George said, taking a sip of firewhisky, “Someone’ll snatch your spot.”

Fred took a deep breath and stood up, wishing to get away from his idiotic family. His heart was racing against his rib cage, uneasiness and nerves spreading throughout his entire body as he slowly walked towards the floor. He stopped to look at anything and everything along the way, stalling the interaction as much as possible. Asking Angelina to the ball had been casual — he never really fancied her the way one should fancy a date. It was more of a friendly thing. But as he looked over at you, your contagious laughter reaching his ears and your cheeks slightly pink, he realized that this was so very different. So very nauseating.

“Fred,” you smiled up at him, catching Fred off guard. He hadn’t even noticed that he walked up to you, but as he heard George muttering behind him, he realized his twin probably gave him a good shove in your general direction.

“Hi,” he smiled down at you, “Hello, Luna.” He greeted your friend, who gave him a dreamy wave before stalking off through the crowd with a smile on her face.

“She’s had a lot of gigglewater,” you informed him, “Told me about seven times that she thought I looked like Pygmy puff.”

Fred found himself laughing, “I don’t think you look like one. I don’t remember Pygmy puffs being so stunning — and I’d know, Ginny had one of those little rats.”

Your eyes widened and your smiled faltered just a tad, “You think I’m stunning?”

“Yeah,” Fred suppressed his nerves the best that he could, “I actually wanted to ask if you wanted to dance.”

He saw you take a deep breath, placing your glass down on the nearest table before holding out your hand, “I’d love to.”

Your hand was warm as it laced in with his, a sudden wave of confidence flowing over him at the contact.

He led you out to the dance floor, your body close to his as you linked your arms behind his neck, his hands holding your waist. He felt his breath stutter as your fingers grazed the sensitive skin at the nape of his neck, his lips curling up into a satisfied smile.

“Do you know how to dance?” you asked, looking down at your feet as you actively avoided stepping on his feet, the two of you slowly beginning to sway to the music.

“Nope,” Fred grinned, “Winging it.”

You chuckled, tossing a loose strand of hair out of your face before gazing back up at him, “Apologies in advance if I step on your feet—”

Right as you said that, Fred felt the tip of your shoe dig into the top of his foot. Your eyes shot wide open and you stepped back, tensing up.

“I am so sorry!”

Fred removed a hand from your waist and pressed it over his heart, “You wounded me, woman.”

Guilt left your face and you broke into another fit of giggles, stepping close to him once again, your hands finding their spot at the back of his neck as you muttered another apology. Fred couldn’t remember ever dancing like this with anyone before. Though you two were currently only friends — if even that — he felt like your movements were intimate, close, and he wanted to continue dancing with you until the sun was gone and rising back up again.

“You’re such a dork,” you laughed, resting your head against his chest. He was tall enough that you could do so without leaning over. Fred hoped to Godric that you couldn’t hear how violently his heart was beating.

“I’ve been told,” he chuckled, the vibrations causing you to pull away and smile up at him.

He stared down into your eyes, his own face falling into a serious trance. As cliche as it was, he felt as if the two of you were alone. That the wedding had died down and the dance floor was meant for you and you alone. That no one could ruin this little moment. He could smell your intoxicating perfume and it was rendering his mind slightly blank.

Fred Weasley didn’t fall for anyone in one day. Especially someone that he had never met before. But here he was, the only thing on his mind being that he wanted to dance the night and morning away with you. That he wanted to take you to dinner. To bring you to the shop.

“Something on your mind?” you asked, a tone of inquisition in your voice as you peered up at him.

“You,” he replied, stopping in his step completely when he heard himself, “I — that came off awfully weird.”

“It came off awfully sweet,” you stopped dancing with him, smiling brightly, “For someone who doesn’t remember me, you sure seem to be warming up rather quickly. I’m not complaining, though.”

Fred had never been happier for his boldness than in this exact moment.

“Coffee?” you asked, beginning to move to the music once more, Fred following in your step. He found himself stumbling over his feet just a bit, but he played it off well enough that he was certain you hadn’t even noticed.

“I like coffee but it’s a little late now,” he smirked to himself, knowing what you meant but deciding to tease you just a tad.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes playfully, “Oi, you know what I meant.”

He chuckled, cheeks hurting from how much smiling he had done this evening, “Of course I do. But here, let me ask. Y/N, would you accompany me to dinner and coffee tomorrow night?”

You pretended to ponder, the tips of your ears slightly redder than they were a few seconds ago, “I would need to check my schedule but I believe I’m free.”

“Good,” Fred grinned, heart doing a summersault in his chest as you beamed up at him, your body pressed against his as the two of you continued to get lost in each other.

Luckily for Fred, you were too busy focused on him to notice Ron and George shooting thumbs up your way, their knowing grins taunting Fred from across the dance floor. But, as Fred looked down at you, he thought he didn’t really care.

After all, Fred Weasley has a date.

—

taglist

@grierpilots

@hxfflxpxffs

@mikumana

@msmimimerton

@pit-and-the-pen

@diary-of-an-onliner

@theweirdsideofstuff

@thoseofgreatambition

@theweasleysredhair

@haphazardhufflepuff

@almostweepingbanana

@ickle-ronniekins

@iprobablyshipit91

@wand3ringr0s3

@susceptible-but-siriusexual

@starlightweasley

@mytreec

@thisismysketchbook​

(message me to be added!)

[ignitification]

Midoriya Izuku - Green for Hope, Red for Burning Passion

I always asked myself why exactly Horikoshi has changed Midoriya's character design so drastically.

Indeed, we go from a character called Yamikumo who looks like a feral child with the bad habit of eating his nails off, and drinks more coffee than humanly possible to an anxious bunny who smiles awkwardly and does not know how to accept compliments.

To me, the difference is absolutely insane. Izuku's hair and eyes are uniform and reflect his character and surname. However, a thing that I find peculiar is how the dark (Black/Green) and the Red theme are a constant throughout particular tellings of his character.

The legendary red shoes are one of Deku's main features. It's part of his character. However, I just got to think why exactly (especially having an idea on why was green used for him) and I think that the answer might be very very banal. However, I do think that this is not the only reason.

First of all, there is the most simple reason which I could think of: Midoriya Izuku is described as plain. In my opinion, plain does not really define Midoriya but the concept of him being bland and capable of melting into background is fundamental to express him in the most little details (however, there are few things which inwardly contradict this description: first and foremost his freckles). But as it might be, and Midoriya is indeed considered not worthy look at for more than once (at least as described in the manga - which is also one of the reason why his design has been changed so much, as Yamikumo had literally zero chance to go unnoticed), it appears clear how this suppression of character, of wanting to relegate Mido to a background role is what instead pushes Izuku forward to make a bold choice of something like wearing red shoes. They are strikingly particular, and noticeable: which means that Midoriya is not happy about being an npc, but instead wants to be noticed and in some way stand out.

The second reason, which I mulled over if was relevant enough is All Might. A recurrent color in all All Might's costumes is Red (and Blue, which kind of reminds of Superman and the American Flag. A fact that I found interesting as well if how AM wears Blue, Yellow and Red while Midoriya wears Green and Red, and of course Blue and Yellow together form Green).

And finally the third and final reason (at least, for now) is that Red, as a colour reminds Deku of Kacchan (even if arguably, we see in the first panel of the manga how Izuku wore already his shoes so this might be false and instead it might refer to the fact that Red is Izuku’s favourite colour only), who we know he associates with victory. As the mental image of Kacchan, who was red eyes, is his substitute for him being able to stand proud, strong and capable to win, Izuku might want to express this strive to be strong.

But what do these two colours mean, stand alone ?

As for Green: this colour, in different cultures, is associated with "Hope" . I think here the main gist and general going is that Midoriya represents Hope for the Heroes, Hope for the Unwanted, the Broken and the Damned (the Villains). I talked about Izuku being a Symbol of the New Society here, but in short, with Izuku Midoriya being fundamentally associated to the colour green, I think Horikoshi wants to express two things: how Izuku never loses hope (to be a hero, to have a quirk, to be a friend to Katsuki who bullied him for years or Shouto who straight up challenged him even before getting to know him, to reach and to save everyone) and how he represents and spreads hope for others (Eri, Kouta, the same Todoroki and Katsuki).

Green indicates life, renewal, harmony and safety. Which, in this sense, points out Izuku's nature as a person and how he is bound to feel restless unless he provides comfort to everyone, and that desire to save desperately anyone who he can reach. Green is a calming and soothing colour. It also stands for prosperity, freshness and progress - which point out not only the conclusion of Deku being N1 Hero, but as well at him 'changing up' the society and becoming the Symbol of Hope and Change (on which I briefly touched upon here).

However, on a negative side it also stands for Greed (wanting to be a hero and follow AM steps even when he had a hard time adapting his body to his new quirk) and Envy (Bakugō first and foremost and the generally heroes and those who has time to wield their power properly). In this negative meaning of the colour, I think Izuku’s selfless nature comes to the surface even more: how he feels bound to feel negative emotions which spur his renewal and development (after all, he did unlock Black Whip after Monoma had insulted Bakugou), but at the same time use this emotion toward a bigger goal (him being mad at Shigaraki, but at the same time wanting to save him - I wrote about this too here).

Green, is, finally, the colour of the Heart chakra: an expression of how Midoriya puts everything before him, because his heart cannot take the selfishness of thinking of himself first, which also come hand in hand with his sacrificing nature and reminds of his name meaning and the association made with the number 9. Indeed, “Opening the Heart chakra allows a person to love more, empathise, and feel compassion” - which in short, stands for an externalisation of Mido’s personality.

On a shorter note, in Japan, the colour green represents youth, eternity, vitality and energy - which, in its own way is both a confirmation and a denial to other references made in Izuku’s character, such as his dangerous nature, him not being concentrated to live on for more than he is allowed to fulfil his duty (him being tied to number 9 and so on), and at the same time it reminds us of OfA, as it gains more power and energy and at his cheery, youthful persona.

As for Red, as the colour of Blood, it also stands to indicate '' Danger, Sacrifice, Courage" (which reconnects to his name's theory and numerology, of which I talked about here, in short).

In addition, red is usually used to professionally gain attention (it's hard to miss something so bright) and convey confidence. We know for a fact that Deku has been wearing red shoes since he was a kid (or at least, since he met Bakugō, which coincides with Izuku being four) and that despite being Quirkless, he always showed courage in standing out to people even when they thought of him as 'inferior' because on his unusual condition.

Among other negative meaning, there is an overflow of temper, anger, agitation, and overbearing, demanding and oppressive behaviours. As clear as day, these characteristics relate more to fiery Katsuki than Deku, but as stated before, Deku puts Katsuki as model and adapts his combat style to resemble Katsuki’s. So, this overflow of energy and action is a double-edged sword which affects both Katsuki and Izuku in different ways (and is mellowed out in Izuku’s character by his other soothing characteristics , but more on that later).

Also, Red, in Asia is a lucky colour which might (or not) hint at how, despite everything Izuku got his 'lucky' chance to inherit AM's power and follow his dream of becoming a hero. Particularly, in Japan this colour is associated and denotes strength, passion, self-sacrifice. A transmission of feeling as complex and empowering as the ones Deku fills while he is living his everyday life as a future hero, summed to his nature and inherited quirk.

Red is also a magical and religious color. It symbolized super-human heroism to the Greeks and is the color of the Christian crucifixion, which might be as meaningless as other things, but in this case it might greatly relate to the type of enormous power Izuku tries to reign in, and to the self sacrificing spirit which he proves again and again.

So far, the meanings of the colours which have been associated with Deku are in line with his name, his personality and even the storyline which has been drawed out.

Among other meanings red represents power, courage, energy, passion, and creates physical effects such as enhanced metabolism, enthusiasm, higher level of energy (which comes back to the initial reasons on why Deku chooses Red as a distinct colour for himself and his shoes).

The color red is linked to the most primitive physical, emotional, and financial needs of survival and self-preservation.

Finally is also the colour of leadership, determination and courage. So in short, the colours red, where it indicates energy, action and strong emotion-filled desires and aspirations, is also weak to overbearing aspects which transform empowerment into negative traits (which is what, in the end, is represented by Bakugou). It is also strong-willed and can give confidence to those who are shy or lacking in will power (the shoes in Deku’s case). 

Red is the colour of the First (or Spine) Chakra and usually allows a person to be grounded and connect to universal energies, while Green is the link between spiritual and material.

What do these two colours mean in association with each other?

Onto how these two colours are related to each other, especially considering the premises made, we see that Red (life-giving properties, trust, belonging and violence) and Green (health, eternity, youth and greed) are not only opposites, but they complete and balance each other out. Indeed, to reign over emotions and actions, to red is usually added green which indeed is a pain-relieving patch for red’s intensity (the theory of Bakugou and Deku being two sides of the same coin are thriving).

Midoriya Izuku is an intense person. His personality allows him to balance out his power with a selfless nature, and while he himself is sweet and caring, his fiery eyes (and shoes) express for him his utmost sincere feelings, which deep down are very telling. As mentioned before, Izuku responds to Monoma when he insults Bakugou and makes a jab at how actually Bakugou is the one who ultimately terminated AM, by unlocking a new dangerous and powerful quirk, which is so powerful and fiery, and red in his intensity, that they need Shinsou’s intervention to actually calm him down.

Izuku is a overly protective person: he has forgiveness as a foremost characteristic and even if he does mention how he will not forgive Shigaraki for what he has done, on second though he realises that even a ‘monster’ like Shigaraki deserves to be saved, and therefore his other nature takes over.

Therefore, the coexistence of these factors, and his personality are probably at the origin of why Midoriya has had such a drastic make-over before becoming Midoriya Izuku, and why the colours of Red and Green are fundamental in the description which lets us have a full picture of Midoriya as an individual: something who is full of hope and energy, striving to express whisk power and passion while trying to concern only himself with the danger that comes with his mission to save everyone.

[outoftheframework]

characterization cheat sheet: the batfamily boys

Hey everyone! I had the idea to compile a comprehensive list of different traits and attributes for each member of the batfamily based off of both canon and fanon interpretations. I think this could be useful for new members to the fandom, or those looking to write and/or draw for these characters. Remember that these will have a slight bias considering I, a fanon creator, am creating the lists. But I’ll try to make them as accurate as possible.

Appearances vary from artist to artist, so I’ll try to stray away from general details and add more little things you can consider in your art.

Bruce Wayne:

Age: 35-45

Appearance: Extremely physically fit, but signs of aging and prolonged exertion can slip through. Has a collection of scattered scars varying from fresh to fully healed. Strong, dark features. Conventionally attractive, but can easily switch to be foreboding/intimidating. Well kept in public appearances, but can look like death incarnate when in private.

Personality: Dual personas: “Bruce” (at home, but not as batman) and “Brucie” (public appearances like galas, news interviews). Bruce is stoic, well-read and educated, well-mannered, and occasionally can be witty and laid-back. Smirks rather than smiles. Brucie is loud, spontaneous, charming, and sometimes oblivious. He is the womanizer and scandal-maker. Often the actions of Brucie are motivated by Batman’s interests.

Speech: Bruce was mainly raised by as English butler, so his speech patterns are proper and smooth. Rarely uses speech fillers such as “uh” and “um,” except when interrupted while concentrating. Despite living in Gotham his entire life, he has not picked up the accent. His voice is newscaster American, almost impossible to pinpoint to a certain region. His speech as Brucie changes to relate more to the audience he is addressing. Speeches to Gotham high society will sound different than those aimed to the general public.

Additional Attributes: Bruce Wayne in all of his personalities is fiercely protective, and can easily slip into a deeper voice to intimidate. Bruce can be extremely empathetic and slightly impulsive when it comes to children who have lost their parents. As learned through his training to become Batman, Bruce is disciplined and can work for hours straight.

Dick Grayson:

Age: 23-29

Appearance: Dick Grayson mirrors a young Bruce Wayne despite their not being blood related. This could be a subconscious action by Dick to absorb traits of his father figure. His lean acrobatic body starts to set him apart from Bruce’s image. Dick manages to be well-built but still limber and flexible. His feet and hands are rough and calloused. His hair can get long but usually stays at a length in between Bruce’s and Tim’s. His eyes are bright blue without even a hint of green or brown. 

Personality: In one comic I believe it was Superman who said that Dick Grayson is a universal constant, meaning that on every alternate earth or timeline, you can always rely on him to be good and pure. I think this really sums up who Dick should be. He is kind to a fault, and can sometimes be naive and not think things through. He loves to love, be that in his family, in his romantic relationships, in his friendships, and even in strangers. He is a chronic hero who only wants to see the world as a better place. But it’s important to note that Dick can get angry when pushed, and holds grudges.

Speech: Dick is an extremely interesting study in speech patterns. As a child he traveled with the circus, until he lived with clear-spoken Bruce Wayne and a proper English butler. So influences to his speech and accent come both internationally and locally to Gotham and Bludhaven. As a child living at Wayne Manor, Dick picks up a slight Gotham tinge to his accent with some British flourish in his vowel sounds. He regularly speaks in slang. As Nightwing he is able to suppress his unique speech to sound more evenly American.

Additional Attributes: Dick acts differently around each of his family members as to be what they need in a big brother. For example, he is more fatherly to Damian while to Tim he is more an equal. Dick can fidget and has less of an attention span than Bruce. He can use jokes as a coping mechanism.

Jason Todd: 

Age: 22-26

Appearance: Hair is often long on top and shorter on the sides, sometimes with a white streak as a side effect from the Lazarus Pit. Tallest and heaviest of all the kids, very physically intimidating. Has a lot of scars and burns, and in some fan works he has a “Y” shaped scar the length of his chest from his autopsy. Never skips leg day. Green/blue eyes.

Personality: Jason goes through a lot of character development, but for this list I’m going off a timeline of post-Under the Red Hood, where Jason is on okay, yet still a little shaky, terms with the rest of the family. Jason has a hard time separating vigilante life and civilian life; his death as Robin ended his life as Jason Todd, blurring the lines between the two. Jason is legally dead, so he is basically building an identity back up. He holds some attributes from childhood: brave, impulsive, loud-mouthed, and street-smart. But his experiences post-Robin have made him a hardened loner. He lives modestly and with some semblance of order. He’s hard to foster a relationship with, but can be a passionate friend/family member when he opens up.

Speech: Jason probably has the least influence from Bruce and Alfred’s speech patterns, seeing as though he spent a lot more time with his biological family/on the streets than he did as a preteen in the manor. He is the definition of Gotham vernacular, with a rough edge. So much so that as a child, the high society gala attenders sometimes had a hard time understanding him. Often talks in curt, short sentences.

Additional Attributes: He has trouble expressing his emotions, more specifically anger and/or grief. Can both love or hate furiously. Inherently good, but sometimes does “bad” things. Protective over children, especially those living on the street. Very much a believer in “the ends justify the means.”

Tim Drake:

Age: 17-20

Appearance: Pale skin, dark hair. Sharp cheek bones and jawline, mostly from how skinny he is. His body isn’t technically “built” to be extremely athletic, but he’s forced a nice lean build from stringently working out. Easily loses and gains weight as a direct result of his work, causing fluctuations in his build. Five foot something, will eventually be out-grown by Damian. Long hair that can still be styled to look professional.

Personality: Tim Drake is very passionate in pretty much everything he sets his mind to. He feels as though he imposed himself onto Batman to become Robin, so he works twice as hard to prove his worth. He can be self conscious and deprecating. Tim as Robin or Red Robin is very different than civilian Tim; his hero personas can be bolder and more confident. Despite dropping out of high school, he values education.

Speech: Tim grew up rich, and his speech reflects an intelligence gained from private tutors. Despite this, he knows how to interact with those his age in using less formal language and slang. Often quotes books and movies. Can be awkward and stumble over his words when teased by his friends/family. He can manipulate people easily in business settings by talking fast and confidently while explaining complex topics.

Additional Attributes: Tim’s demeanor is directly tied to his varying levels of confidence and anxiety. Tim is has above-average intelligence and is diligent in detective work, but can still act like a teenager. He can be stubborn to extremes and will patiently play the long con. He does not cope well with loss.

Duke Thomas:

Age: 17-19

Appearance: Short dark hair, shaved on the sides and/or the back. Often wears the colors yellow and black. Around the same height as Tim, but a little taller. Stronger and heavier build more alike to Jason than Dick, but he’s still light on his feet. Expressive face that can give away his feelings easily. Still a bit of a baby face, but he’s still well-proportioned and conventionally handsome.

Personality: In my works, I’ve often described Duke as having a “sun-shiny” personality. He is one to not even think twice about putting others before himself. Duke uses his own personal experiences to guide him as a hero rather than suppress his emotions. Duke went from being an only child to having a large family, so he can sometimes feel overwhelmed. He is on friendly terms with every member of the batfamily, as well as many other heroes. Duke is self-sacrificial and is still learning how to effectively work as a detective.

Speech: Duke grew up in a middle class Gotham family, so his speech is influenced by his parents as well as his city environment. Duke has a mild Gotham accent and speaks a lot in modern slang. He hasn’t had much influence from Bruce and Alfred, considering he hasn’t lived with them for long. It’s possible that as he grows he will pick up some influences from Bruce and Tim’s way of speaking, but will most likely hold onto the accent of his childhood.

Additional Attributes: Duke is a metahuman vigilante in a city where Batman typically bans them, which causes a bit of an insecurity and a perfectionist drive. These are exasperated by the long line of history preceding him, as well as the fact that he involved himself in the Robin movement rather than being handpicked by Batman. He and Tim can relate in that way. Duke is an ardent student of Batman and is dedicated to the cause.

Damian Wayne:

Age: 10-14

Appearance: Looks similar to Bruce when he was the same age, yet stronger and with tanner skin. His hair is expertly cut and styled, but still age-appropriate. He is the shortest of the batkids, but still has a lot of time and potential to grow. He pretty much won the genetics lottery with Bruce and Talia as his biological parents, and is made for athletics. He has some scars that stand out with their pale coloring against his tan skin. 

Personality: Damian is slowly becoming less of a brat, to put it bluntly. He admires his family and tries to mimic them, but will never confess it. Damian is quick to judge and will voice his opinion no matter how scathing it may be, both as civilian and hero. Damian is slowly realizing he may not want the Batman mantle as quickly as he planned. Jon is a perfect foil to Damian, and often makes him a better person when they’re together. 

Speech: His speech is proper and formal. Prefers formal titles: ex. “father” over “dad” and last names over first. Damian is at least bilingual (Arabic and English), and can switch between languages easily. Most of his speech patterns developed from his tutors in the League, and more recently, Alfred. Influences like Jon and Dick have introduced him to a more modern, laid-back way of speaking, which he sometimes utilizes when relaxed.

Additional Attributes: Damian has problems with authority, especially those that he doesn’t respect like his teachers at school. He can be arrogant and childish ever though he often acts like he knows everything. Damian is still a child and has much to learn from batman and family as well as unlearn from his time at the League. Dami was forged to be a ruthless warrior, but now has to find a balance between the hero Robin and the child Damian Wayne.

Hope this helps someone! Feel free to add on if you think I missed anything. Just please remember to be civil and respect different interpretations of these characters. Let me know if you want another one of these posts outlining the girls or other characters.

[sidespart]

For the fake fic title, if you're still doing it: Why do you hate me? (I honestly don't know where I came up with this lol)

X-Men AU!!! Found Family + Anxceit friendship. TW: child soldiers, child endangerment, abuse etc

(So typical X-men universe set up: some people are born with the X gene, which typically triggers during puberty, giving that person a mutation which normally results in cool powers. Many people hate mutants for their differences (/ bad press of people using their mutant powers for the evilz) and so most mutants live in hiding. The Xavier Institute is a school set up by an extremely powerful mutant which seeks to provide a safe space for young mutants to learn to manage their powers, get a regular education and hopes to see peace between humanity and mutant kind. The Brotherhood of Evil Mutants is a group of mutants who believe humans will never let mutant live in peace and do various anti-human, pro-mutant vaguely terrorist-y actions (there’s like a billion version of the x-men and these details may not be correct for all the versions all of the time because comics but this is the vague idea))

ANYWAY PLOT - Containment breach at the Super Secret Child Soldier Lab (SSCSL) - Subject VII has escaped. Subject VII is only 6-7 years old but his mutations were artificially triggered much younger than is normal. He can warp reality and create very sophisticated illusions, but has very limited control over his powers.

Cut too - Virgil and Dee, a couple of teenage mutants living on the street. They find a little boy with a buzzcut wandering around The Bad Part Of Town and Virgil immediately decides they need to adopt/help him (Dee makes more of a fuss about how this is not their responsibility and the kids barely even talking and do you know how hard I work just to keep you and now you wanna add another mouth to feed?? Huhh?? but obviously does not actually say no) (Dee is like. Barely any older than Virgil he’s just dramatic). 

Naturally, just as the three of them have had time to bond, the SSCSL and other assorted bad guys show up to try and take VII back. There’s a big fight, Virgil and Dee have a lot more experience with flight and would probably have ended up dead if the X-men (Patton and Logan) hadn't shown up to save them. 

But they lose VII.

Patton and Logan take them back to the Xavier institute to recuperate and offer to let them stay. They can go to school there, get some training and help the X-men track down VII and the whole SSCSL. Virgil says yes, Dee says no.

(So, reasoning - Virgil's mutation developed when he was 12. It was not pleasant. Various students at his school were injured and the media set up a which hunt for the mutant that caused the chaos. Virgil ran away from home because he was worried about the backlash on his family and about hurting anyone else again. So to him, this school full of mutants who can help him control his power, can offer him stability and a return to normal structures and routines, who are promising to help him get in contact with his parents if and when he’s ready?? This is like every fantasy he’s ever had come true

Unlike the other characters, Dee’s primary mutation is physical. He was born with it, its very obvious and its resulted in him being rejected for most of his life. He bounced around increasingly disturbing foster homes before running away when he was very young, so most of his memories are of living on the streets and surviving on his own. So, to him, number one: all adults are inherently untrustworthy idiots and number two: stay at a school? where they expect him to have a curfew? and, what - write essays? follow all their random arbitrary rules? rely on them for food and heat and all that shit? Completely ludicrous.)

It doesn't occur to either of them that the other one isn't going to agree with them. The resulting argument is epic and cruel, both hurling accusations at the other (Ungrateful /controlling are two of the big ones..) and both basically feeling hateful and 100% betrayed. Dee leaves and although they look for him, he’s got a lifetime experience of hiding and they cant find him.

CUT TO - 5 years later. Virgil is a (semi) well adjusted 19 year old junior X-men. He’s still a bit withdrawn, but is very close with Patton and Logan. He’s still holding out hope of finding VII one day and still firmly pretending he’s not listing out for any possible news of Dee (there were rumours some years ago of him joining the brother hood of evil mutants but then it all went quiet) who he, of course, hates for his betrayal. 

BUT THEN - mysterious knocking at the door in the night. Dee, now wearing a hat and cape and calling himself Janus, has returned. And he’s brought with him a little boy with a buzzcut and a tattoo of XXII on his foot.

Janus and Virgil need to put aside their resentment and work together to help XXII, who really does not seem interested in helping them, and hopefully use any clues he can give them about the SSCSL to track down VII. But that's difficult when they’re both still struggling with their own trauma and have no idea how to reconnect - both of them want to ask why do you hate me but are a bit too scared of the answer. ...

This already got way to long so mutant power/ extra back story descriptions under cut!

Patton - 22/27 years old. An extremely powerful telepath/empath. It takes him serious concentration and focus to not hear peoples thoughts and its almost impossible to not feel their feelings. Some people dislike him because of this as they feel he's spying on them. Grew up in the Xavier institute and 100% believes in and is committed to the future where humans and mutants live in harmony. Has pretty limited life experience in the real world. Sometimes floats. (inspired by professor X)

Logan - 21/26 years old. Fires destructive laser beams from his eyes. Was in a car accident when he was younger leaving him with permanent but apparently harmless brain damage - until his mutation developed and he slowly realised that no matter how much he trained he just couldn't control his power. Has to wear specialised eye guards at all times to keep himself from accidentally destroying everything around him. Had big plans to go to university and was angry at his mutation for a long time for getting in the way of that. Eventually enrolled online and is now a very dedicated teacher at the Institute. (inspired by cyclops) 

Janus - 15(?) / 20(?) His primary mutation is  lizard/snake like scales over most of his body, but especially the left side. Has oversized fangs, and yellow eye and a short lizard tail. His secondary mutation makes him immune to almost any sort of mental based mutation (so Logan could still knock him on his ass with his lasers, but Patton cant sense anything form him and Virgil cant whammy him). Spent a lot of his life on his own and got by being sneaky, cunning and charming. Initially took Virgil in because he saw that his powers could be useful for keeping them both safe, but eventually Virgil became his first real friend.

Virgil - 14/19. Shadow manipulation and ‘draining’. Virgil can make himself (and with practice, people he touches) literally disappear into the shadows. He can also direct shadows as powerful energy ‘blasts’, but in order to do so he has to drain any surrounding living things of their energy. When his mutation first developed  he took out half of the school hall where his exam was being held, leaving 15 students in a coma. (inspired by rouge/shadow cat)

VII - 6? / 11? Reality warping/illusion powers. One of the institutes first successful subjects. He was able to escape by changing the wall of his cell into a door. He finds it hard to talk but can project his ideas as lifelike illusions who can talk for him. One of his best is the image a handsome grown up Prince and he will often use this Illusion as an avatar to communicate. When he was 6 he did have some hazy memories of outside the SSCSL and expressed a desire to go home. Current status is unknown. 

XXI - 7.  Illusion powers  (reality warping has been removed from the program by his time as subjects proved too difficult to control). Has no memories of outside the institute and is extremely uncooperative with his new captors/guardians. He does not understand the affection they’re trying to show him and lashes out a lot, often by creating a lot of extremely disturbing and graphic illusions. Bites. 

[codename-adler]

foxes + onesies (1/9)

based off of that one post i saw and don’t remember, where people once caught Allison wandering around Fox Tower in a giraffe onesie, and i absolutely melted for her. here is the Foxes’ journey to getting a onesie each!

Allison  

in the aftermath of the “mob war”, Allison still sees Betsy for counselling, mostly to cope with Seth’s death still, her ED and to process her childhood and teenage trauma

Betsy teaches her a lot about self-care (and not in Allison’s traditionnal definitions of self-care, which are: bottle it up, act out, burn through 500$ in clothes, repeat)

all in all, Allison has a lot to come to terms with by the end of the semester, and Betsy won’t be there as much in the summer, so she leaves her with a little list of self-care tips to look at when Ally feels overwhelmed

- pick a time to make yourself some tea, or try out some new ones and tell me about it next time

- try drawing with those wonderful pencils of yours, but in different art styles (because yes, Allison does have a fashion sketchbook. but silly doodles? abstract drawings? anatomy sketches? she never tried)

- watch movies by yourself, and for yourself, Allison

- since you love shopping and spending so much, find yourself a cozy thing, a soft thing that will only be for yourself, when you need to be reminded to love yourself and be gentle with yourself

those were the suggestions that stuck to Ally the most

so the next time she goes out to the mall with Dan and Renee, she doesn’t expect to find anything like Betsy suggested

she does look for some herbal tea at David’s Tea, and ends up getting some hibiscus + rose water green tea

but then they go to Walmart (she wants to gag)

fucking Walmart

the girls need some pads and tampons, and the gatorades are on sale (because all the Foxes, as a treat for winning the Championship and bc they all want to stay close after the hard year they endured, got to stay on campus for the whole summer (idc if it’s unrealistic, sue me, that’s how i roll))

for once, Allison follows Dan and Renee, without looking at anything, without touching anything (what if she catches it??)

then Renee wants to look for socks

that’s when Ally passes a rack of colorful onesies

one brushes the tip of her elbow, and wow it’s so soft

not at all the quality material she expected

she stops in her tracks, lets the girls go on to the underwear section, and really looks at the pajamas

there are lots of unicorns, and pandas, a few mouses, and two giraffes

bright yellow, light-spotted giraffes, with their little ears and antlers and all

the sewn-on eyes are closed and have cute little lashes details

Allison imagines herself wearing it and feels utterly stupid

but- she keeps running her fingers through the synthetic velvety material, mesmerized by its softness

she thinks back on Betsy’s list

the folks would absolutely loathe it. the high school bitches too. God, even Seth would say it’s fucking stupid. Nobody should ever be seen wearing that…

But I wouldn’t have to worry about my man-shoulders in it… or my stomach… or my thighs… I could even go braless, or wear just that cute little bralette I haven’t got the courage to wear yet… and I think Renee would agree it’s cute…

then she hears Betsy’s soothing voice in her head

But do you like it?

Yes. Yes I do.

and that’s how Allison takes down the onesie, cashes out and waits for the two other girls outside the Walmart entrance, feeling silly, and jitty, yet quite happy with herself

back at Fox Tower, she washes it immediately, only to stuff it back under her bed

it stays there for quite a few weeks, until it’s almost time for school to start again, her last year at PSU

the boys are out at the beach, Andrew and Neil are God-knows-where, Renee is meeting a friend, and Dan is out shopping with her Sisters

Ally is alone, and lonely

she’s craving something, something that feels close to how one of her nanny used to take care of her hair before bedtime, telling her stories of folklore around the world

guessing that nobody will be back before sundown, she reaches underneath her bed and takes out the giraffe onesie

she gets rid of her high-waisted skinny jeans, her silky cropped blouse and her high-heeled sandals in favor of Seth’s old Marvel boxer shorts, her baby blue bralette she still hasn’t worn, and the infamous onesie

and wow, it’s so baggy

as she buttons up the front, it almost feels like being wrapped up in a giant, fluffy pancake

she giggles to herself, like a little girl

until she goes to look at herself in the mirror, where she straight-up bursts out laughing

she feels so, so light

she puts on a pair of Renee’s fuzzy socks with the sticky soles and leaves her bedhair as it is

she spends the rest of the day on the couch, watching Barbie movies from the hidden collection she has in her closet while painting her real nails in rainbow colors

she makes herself a big cup of the tea she bought, and lights an ocean-breeze candle

between Barbie as the Island Princess and Barbie and the Magic of Pegasus, she even goes so far as going at the end of the hallway to buy some sugar-free gummy bears from the vending machine, completely forgetting herself…

of course, this is when the boys, including Andrew and Neil, are coming back from their day outdoors

she stops dead in her tracks when she turns around and sees them, a *giraffe* caught in the headlights

the boys only notice her because she stops moving so abruptly

she’s speechless

the boys, not so much

Kevin: *oblivious to the onesie situation* So you’re the one hoarding the healthy gummies. Dude give back some.

Matt: Oh, hi Ally… *raises his pointer finger, opens and closes his mouth in awe, lowers his arm back down* Cute?

Andrew: *his face says he doesn’t give a shit, but he’ll let the image make its way to his heart eventually* *very sneakily snaps an adorable pic for the group chat*

Neil: *whispering to Andrew, genuinely confused*  I thought these were for babies? Do we qualify as babies? Why is Ally dressed like a baby, Andrew?

Nicky: BITCHHHHHH I shoulda made a bet on THAT!

Aaron: Well fuck. 60 points to Hufflepuff for cuteness.  Ugh. I can’t believe I said “cute”. Jesus, I wanna vomit. Eurk.

Allison slowly makes her way back to her dorm room without a word, her cheeks flushed and her eyes to the ground, clutching her bag of gummies

she hasn’t felt this vulnerable since Seth’s passing

an hour later, she’s still hiding under her blankets as Renee and Dan file in

of course, they saw the photo posted to their group chat, and they heard everything from Matt and Nicky

Renee gets under the covers with Ally, and Dan proceeds to show off the goods she got with a very silly runway walk

they don’t say anything, until Neil sends a new picture on the GC

it’s a printed version of Andrew’s picture, pinned to the locker room wall with all the other photos they’ve accumulated

and everybody in the chat is dying of cuteness overload

Ally’s got that look of a toddler caught red handed, so open and genuine and surprised; her mouth is slighlty opened in an “o” shape; her mismatched fuzzy socks are peeking from underneath the bunched up fabric at her ankles; the hood is pulled up and slouching over her head…

but nobody, nobody, is making fun of her

we’re talking about the Foxes here. they never pull their punches.

so this? unexpected. shocking. astounding.

and right at the bottom of the picture, in shaky black marker: Baby Ally

with a poorly drawn heart next to it

in Neil’s unmistakeable handwriting

she cries

and never again is she ashamed of wandering around in her giraffe onesie

and if from then on, many Foxes gifts are soft things for her, well, that is called character development

[honey-dewey]

Soulmate Imagines

Another short not drabbles but not full stories either! I was completely inspired by a post made by @absurdthirst and really really wanted to write the boys in these scenarios! So I completely ignored both of my active WIPS and wrote this instead. Oops? Enjoy these long and indulgent soulmate imagines!

Total Word Count: 5,179

Permanent Taglist: @phoenixhalliwell @star-wars-hell

Din Djarin:

Soul Tattoo AU

“Shit!”

You hummed, turning your head over, vision fuzzy. Din was rushing around the Crest, and you could see red painting his beskar. Was he hurt? You tried to stand, and then it hit you. Oh. You were hurt.

“Din,” you rasped out, blinking as his fuzzy image came into more clarity.

Din looked at you, helmet trained on your face. “Cyar’ika,” he said, taking your cold hands. “How do you feel?”

“Like I got run over by a herd of Banthas,” you said, shifting and wincing. “What happened?”

“Bomb,” Din explained, gesturing to your torso, where you were wearing a thin robe and nothing else. “Hit your side. Patched you up best I could.”

You nodded, swallowing thickly. “Did it scar?”

Din hesitated. “Some of it will. Nothing on your back though.”

Relief flooded you. You had no idea why you were so worried about your soul tattoo, but you were. The beautiful star map to Aq Ventina spanned your entire back, from shoulders to tailbone, the sides creeping over your waist. You’d done research about Aq Ventina years ago, when the curiosity had finally peaked. You’d read up on the history and knew that it no longer existed, decimated by a droid attack decades before you’d even known it existed.

“It’s a beautiful tattoo,” Din said softly, out of nowhere.

“Thank you,” you said, looking at his helmet. “It’s my soul tattoo.”

Din nodded. “I figured.”

And that was the last it was spoken of for almost five months. The next time it was relevant was during a two day long bounty hunt, when Din left to shower and you sat in your shared inn room, cooing at Grogu.

The shower water turned off, and you heard Din drying off. Then he called your name.

“Yeah?”

“Come here.”

Worried, you stood and headed to the bathroom. “Din?”

“Come here.” His voice bordered on urgent, and you immediately shoved the door open.

You were met with Din, completely shirtless yet still wearing the helmet, in the bathroom, no urgent problem in sight. However, instead of being mad, you were focused entirely on the tattoo that spread across Din’s back.

It was identical to yours.

“Din?” Your voice was tiny, so apprehensive.

He sighed, looking at you and taking your hands. “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything earlier,” he said. “But Aq Ventina was my home, so you have to understand that it was odd and a bit painful seeing the star map on your back.”

You nodded. “We’re soulmates,” you breathed. “I didn’t even know you had a soul tattoo.”

Din chuckled. “It’s not like I expose much skin,” he reasoned.

That drew a laugh out of you. “Yeah. But still.” Your fingers danced over the exposed edge of the star map that crept over Din’s side. “Soulmates.”

Din nodded, resting his forehead against your head. “Soulmates,” he agreed. “But only if you’ll have me.”

You smiled. “As if I could ever say no.”

Marcus Moreno:

Color Soulmate AU

To say you were stressed was an understatement. A huge project for Heroics was cradled in your arms, all sorts of papers and binders and information you were carrying to the filing room to be sorted. The stack was tall, which was probably why you didn’t see your boss until you ran directly into him.

“Fuck!” You shouted as you fell on your back, folders going everywhere. Marcus Moreno, your boss, was toppled next to you, also swearing.

“I am so sorry!” You said hurriedly, scrambling to gather the papers, eyes focused on your task. “I really should’ve looked where I was going and-“ you looked up, shock killing your words.

Marcus’s eyes were brown. Very very brown.

You gasped, your task entirely forgotten. “Oh.”

Marcus was staring at you with just as much shock as you were staring at him with. “Oh,” he echoed.

Your fragile moment was shattered by the click of heels and another employee coming over to check on you, her voice frantic.

“We’re fine,” Marcus reassured, standing and dusting himself off. Without saying anything else, he walked quickly away.

Once all the files were secure, you headed back to your desk and pulled out a small box of crayons. You’d never seen color, not ever, so this would be interesting. At least it would be if your hands would stop shaking.

One of your coworkers, Matt, came up to you as you used a teal crayon, marveling at the color. “Oh? You met your soulmate?”

You nodded, looking up and noticing the vibrant purple color to Matt’s tie. “Yeah. Bumped into him in the hall. Literally.”

Matt grinned. “Who is it?”

You cringed, the embarrassment setting in. “Mr. Moreno.”

“Mr. Moreno?” Matt practically yelled. “He’s our boss!”

“Yeah, I know!” You retaliated, checking your clock and scrambling up. “Fuck! I gotta go, that huge meeting is in ten.”

Matt smiled. “Good luck!”

Despite Matt’s wishes, you were fairly certain the presentation was a disaster. Marcus was missing, which was odd, and you ended up tripping over your words and getting a huge migraine halfway through the presentation. After sheepishly explaining the scenario, you were told to go home and adjust, you could redo the presentation tomorrow.

Of course, tomorrow was just as bad. Marcus was actually present, wearing a yellow tie that kept distracting you and forcing your words out in a jumble.

After the train wreck of a presentation, you decided this was a situation that called for a large hot chocolate. Getting one and settling in the cafeteria, you sighed, swirling your drink with a spoon. You were a certifiable mess.

The creaking of the chair brought your attention back to planet earth, and you looked up, nearly choking on your spit. “Mr. Moreno!”

“Please, I think we should be on a first name basis,” Marcus said. “So.”

“So.”

Marcus tapped the table. “I’m sorry I ran off yesterday. I just, well, I haven’t seen color since my- Since Clara died.”

You nodded. “I understand if you don’t want this,” you murmured, looking back down at your drink. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” Marcus asked. “No! I’m, well, a little excited.”

That shocked you. “Excited?”

“Yeah.” Marcus nodded. “Excited. Missy’s over the moon, of course.”

You grinned. “Thanks. Sorry I’m so nervous. I’ve never seen any of this before.”

“Really?” Marcus said. “Oh I definitely know what we’re doing first.”

“What?”

Marcus smiled, taking your hands. “You’re going to love sunsets.”

Max Phillips:

Black Mark Soulmate AU 

“Oh no.”

You stared at your boss with nothing short of mild fear. Max fucking Phillips. There was no goddamn way. You’d known him very briefly in college, but this, this was unexpected.

He smiled at the employees, shaking hands as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

As if his right palm wasn’t the color of fresh stained ink.

He walked up to you, holding out his ink stained hand. You were hesitant to accept. After all, your right hand was equally black. But handshakes were common, very common among soulmate meets. Max Phillips was not your soulmate.

You were able to tell yourself that until the moment your hands touched, the blackness turning into a beautiful swirl of bright colors.

Max’s eyes widened as he looked at you. “Your hand.”

“Yours too,” you said, letting go of Max’s hand and letting him examine the watercolor of reds and purples that spread across his skin.

Max took a nervous breath. “No. Something must be wrong.”

You were shocked. “Max. Is it really that bad?”

“You don’t understand!” Max snapped, scaring you a tiny bit. He leaned closer, so you could see the devilish gleam in his eyes. “I have no soul.”

Your blood chilled as you saw the overly sharp teeth and the hint of red behind the deep brown in Max’s eyes. “Max.”

But he was gone, disappeared from right in front of you. Blinking a few times, you turned to your computer, determined to uncover the truth about your mysterious boss and the still tingling rainbow of colors on your palm.

Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales:

Countdown Soulmate AU

The countdown timer was surprisingly unnerving.

Actually, was it really that surprising? It was counting down to the most important day pretty much ever. Yours had always had years and years, much longer than any of your friends, but you didn’t mind. That was just more time to prepare.

Of course, when you woke up one day to find that the timer that had read seven months suddenly read twelve hours, you freaked the hell out. Taking deep breaths, you calmed yourself and got dressed, texting your best friend and asking him when he wanted you over for movie night. He responded with eight, and promised that you’d love his friends.

With one last deep breath and a glance around your apartment, you left for the day.

And ended up with a popped tire on the side of the road ten minutes before eight.

Screaming your frustration into the night darkened woods and frightening some poor birds, you sighed and called roadside service. An hour, at least, before they could get to you.

Your next call went to Benny, who you apologized to and told him you’d make it up to him.

Your final call was to no one. You simply sat back in your car and waited for roadside service while you tapped away at some mind numbing game you’d downloaded on a whim.

Headlights were visible in the distance not even ten minutes later, which shocked you and then worried you. Who the hell was out on this road this late at night? Were you about to be murdered? Who would find your body? Would Benny still hold true to his promise and wear a lime green tutu to your funeral?

The car stopped when it saw you, and your anxiety skyrocketed. You quickly texted Benny one last time and locked your car.

“Hey!” A few sharp knocks and a face in the window. “Do you need help?”

You were trembling, trying to keep a brave face. “Tire popped.”

“Oh.” The voice sounded genuinely worried. “That sucks. Where are you headed?”

“A friend’s house.”

“Did you call roadside?”

“An hour.”

“Oof. Hungry?”

“What?” You looked over, seeing the dimly lit silhouette of a man holding up what was probably a granola bar. “Yeah actually, I am.”

The man’s cheeks lit up, and you assumed he was smiling. “Well you’re gonna have to open up if you want it.”

You hesitantly cracked the door and watched the man step back. The car lights illuminated him fully, revealing a very attractive man holding a slightly squished granola bar.

Turning in the seat so that your legs were hanging out the car, you took the offered food, smiling as you ate. “Lord this is good! Thank you!”

The man shrugged. “No problem. I’m Frankie.”

You mumbled your name around the granola bar, and then froze as your wrist burned warm and then cold, a clattering alerting you to the fact that your timer had fallen off.

And from the look on Frankie’s face, so had his.

He looked back up at you, seemingly nervous. “So can I get in the car now? I promise I’m not a creep.”

You nodded, still slightly shocked as Frankie got into your car, sitting in the passenger seat. It was silent for a minute before you spoke. “So. Soulmates.”

“Soulmates,” Frankie agreed. “I’m glad I shared that granola bar with you.”

Your phone pinged, and you swore softly, answering Benny’s text and then rereading it. “Do you, by any chance, know a Benny Miller?”

“Yeah,” Frankie said. “I was headed to his place when I saw you.”

“Me too.” You showed him the text, which read ‘Dude! Be careful! My buddy Frankie’s coming along, so if you get attacked, he’ll totally protect you. Also, totally not wearing that tutu because you’re not dying first.’

Frankie smiled. “You’re in on the tutu thing too?”

You laughed. “Oh god! Not you too!”

“Yeah!” Frankie said, laughing along with you. “Benny totally already has it, y’know.”

You sighed. “Damn. That’s wild.”

The hour until roadside service arrived was filled with stories and bonding. After your car was towed, you got in Frankie’s truck and headed to Benny’s, arm in arm.

“Hey, Frankie found the murder victim!” Benny said happily, opening the door. “Oh shit, dudes I was starting to get worried about you.”

Frankie shook his head. “Actually, it couldn’t have played out better.”

Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels:

First Words Soulmate AU

You sighed, taking a breath. Today you were meeting your baby brother’s coworkers at a work party. It wasn’t supposed to be so damn nerve wracking, but your stomach was a ball of anxiety. “Danny, are you sure about this?”

Danny, or as he was better known at work, Tequila, nodded. “Hell yeah, it’ll be fun.”

You tugged your bracelet, trying to cover the words winding across your wrist.

What’s a pretty little thing like you doing in a place like this?

The Statesman Fourth of July party was apparently a big deal. There were sure as hell a lot of people. You stuck by Danny’s side, smiling at his coworkers and eventually sitting with a woman named Ginger. She was nice, and when Danny wandered off to flirt with someone, she stayed with you, giving you names to attach to faces.

“Oh, and that’s Jack,” she said, pointing to someone talking to Champ. “One of the longest lasting agents we have.”

You eyed Jack. He was handsome, especially with that cowboy hat. He must’ve noticed your staring, because he wandered over and sat down at the table.

“So, what’s a pretty little thing like you doing in a place like this?”

You took a breath, gripping the hem of your shorts and trying to think without looking awkward. A thousand responses rushed through your head, and you finally picked one you hoped wasn’t weird. “I dunno cowboy, why do you ask?”

Jack recoiled as if he’d just had ice water poured on his head. Ginger stood, shocked as Jack ran away. “What just happened?”

You were nearly speechless, tears starting to well up. “I think my soulmate just ran away from me.”

After a good long crying session in which you sobbed openly into Danny’s jacket and he vowed to absolutely murder Jack, Ginger gently explained Jack’s past with his previous soulmate. Which sent you into another round of crying and made Danny even more pissed.

He ended up taking you home early to watch shitty movies and eat tons of ice cream, comforting you as you numbly ate half a pint of Ben and Jerry’s on the couch.

When he left for work the next day, you made him swear not to hurt Jack.

You got a call from Ginger two hours later telling you to come pick Danny up.

Marching into Statesman again, you found Ginger at the entrance, lips pressed tight. She led you to the infirmary, where Danny was proudly sporting a black eye and a split lip. Jack was laying in a bed next to him, pressing ice to his cheek.

“Control your fucking brother!” He yelled as soon as he saw you, sitting up in the bed. “He nearly killed me!”

“Oh shut the fuck up!” You snapped back. “You best be glad I’m not petty, or else I’d have let him kill you.”

Jack was, wisely, silent as you helped Danny up and out of the building. Danny was also silent, but was definitely smug about it.

“Y’know I totally won that fight,” he said as you exited the building.

You sighed. “Sure. Whatever. Let’s go home.”

The next day, you got a call from an unknown number.

“This is Jack,” the voice on the other end said when you picked up. “I’m calling to apologize for beating your brother up.”

“Apparently he won the fight.”

Jack snorted. “Sure he did. Look, I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted.”

A pause. “Cool. See you around.”

“Yeah. See you.”

He hung up first, leaving you with a dead hole in your chest. When you would see that cowboy again, you didn’t know, but when you did, oh boy was he in for it from you.

Ezra:

Pain Sharing Soulmate AU

You were screaming.

Well, screaming may not have been the word to describe the feeling. No, the agony in your right arm was numbing pain, the kind of pain that brought out animalistic noises and made spots dance across your vision. You writhed on the floor, clutching your upper arm and begging someone, anyone, to make the pain stop. A few nurses you worked with tried to dose you with painkillers, but nothing could touch soulmate pain.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, the pain began to fade. You’d had some aches in that arm after a stab that was really painful and you’d assumed some kind of injury that your soulmate had sustained was being treated. But that, that harsh, indescribable pain that had you sweating and panting on the floor with your head spinning, you had no explanation for that.

After that, the nurses set you up in the break room with fluids and a light snack. Your right arm still hurt like hell, but it was manageable now. As time passed, the pain passed, until it was no more than a dull ache once more, with some odd numbness that lingered in your fingertips.

Of course, on the day you decided to try working for a few hours, your soulmate went and got himself fatally injured again.

Gasping and falling sideways, you gritted your teeth through a scream as your gut lit on fire, as if someone had driven a knife into your belly. It was the second time in three days that your soulmate had put you through this. What the hell was he doing?

Yet again, you were put in a room to wait out the pain, probably scaring patients with your sobs and pleads for any merciful god to put you out of your misery. This pain refused to fade, and you completely missed the wail of emergency sirens as a new patient in critical condition arrived.

Eventually, finally, the pain forced you unconscious.

You woke a few days later, breathing deeply as you realized you weren’t in any pain. The faint voice of a doctor met your ears as you slowly regained your senses.

“We’re all shocked they survived. With pain like that, I surely wouldn’t have been as strong as they were. First it was their arm, and then their stomach. We still don’t really know what happened.”

The doctor turned to you, and smiled when he noticed your open eyes. “Finally, you’re awake. We have someone who wants to talk to you.”

You grumbled, trying to string together the past few days. “What?”

The doctor gestured to a man sitting in the other bed in the room. “This is Ezra, our critical patient from a few days ago.”

“I was too busy being stabbed in the stomach to notice any crit patients,” you pointed out.

“Yes, well,” the doctor said with a smile. “He may have some answers for you.”

You sat up, rubbing your aching head and facing the other man in the room.

He looked like hell, face sunken and shining with post injury sweat. You reasoned that you probably didn’t look much better. But the interesting thing about the man was his bandage wrapped right arm. Or more accurately, his lack of an arm that was wrapped in bandages.

“Hi Ezra,” you said slowly, rubbing your temples. “Is this my headache or yours?”

Ezra chuckled. “I think it’s yours,” he said. “I can’t feel any of my own pain right now.”

You sighed. “Doc, can I get some painkillers? I got a headache.”

The doctor nodded, grabbing a few pills, but you shook your head. “The good shit, please.”

Smiling, the doctor picked up a syringe and lifted your left arm, considering your right still felt a bit numb. “Countdown?”

“Nah.”

The doctor gave you the painkillers, and you watched Ezra wince at the pinch from the needle as it hit your skin. Laying back as the painkillers took effect, you sighed, looking at Ezra. “I’d love to stay and chat,” you murmured sleepily. “But this stuff works fast.”  

Ezra smiled. “Don’t worry songbird,” he said. “I’ll be here when you wake.”

Javier Peña:

Soulmate’s Name on Wrist AU

“Get up! New client!”

You groaned, adjusting your top and trotting into the hall, standing with the group of women waving and giggling at the new client. He looked up at your group, a light grin on his face.

“He’s cute,” you said to the woman next to you.

She nodded. “He’s a regular at places like this,” she said. “Says his name’s Javier.”

You froze, the small name tattooed on the inside of your wrist practically burning. “Javier? He got a last name?”

“Not that he’ll share.”

In the end, you were Javier’s lucky victim, mostly because when he asked your name and you responded, his watch-covered wrist twitched. So he was your soulmate. Or at least you were his. He showed you bliss, paid you handsomely, and left without a word but with a spark.

Two weeks later, you ran into him again. You’d been in touch with a man at the US embassy about cartel stuff, mostly that the cartels had been reaching out to people like you and you wanted to stay safe, and the man had invited you to come over and give a statement. You were hesitant, of course, but the man looked kind enough, and the other employees knew him well enough that you felt secure.

“This is my partner, agent Peña,” the man said as he gestured you into a room. “But,” he said slowly, eyeing the bare name on your wrist. “I think you knew that already.”

“I did.”

Javier took a breath. “Can we get this done with?” He said, trying to sound annoyed but only succeeding at stressed.

Your statement was quiet and precise, and before you knew it, Javier was walking you out.

“Javier,” you tried.

“Don’t,” Javier growled. “Just go, forget you ever met me.”

“I can’t!” You all but yelled, grabbing his wrist so he couldn’t walk off. “I’ve been wearing your name since the day I was born, you think I can just forget all of that?”

Javier was quiet. “You think I want a soulmate?” He asked quietly, and you froze.

“I’m sorry?”

“No!” Javier growled, shaking his head. “I mean, fuck. This job, if they find out you’re connected to me, they’ll kill you.”

Your blood went cold, but you kept your composure. “Hate to break it to you,” you said, shoving Javier’s sleeve up and exposing your name written on his wrist. “But we’re already connected.”

From that day forward, you were under protection. You quit your job, moved reluctantly to an apartment that was secured by the embassy, and barely left the brand new apartment for anything. The war on drugs dragged on, and every so often, Javier would shuffle across the hall and find solace in your arms, always leaving before dawn.

One night, after a particularly hard day, you and him were tangled together on the couch, name wrists pressed against each other. Your skin burned and prickled at the intimate contact, but Javier was so lost he didn’t even notice.

“Javi?”

“Hm?”

You smoothed through his hair. “Will we ever be safe enough to be soulmates?”

Javier was quiet. “I don’t know.”

You sighed. “One day, I hope we will.”

Another long silence, and then Javier spoke up. “Me too.”

That morning, you woke up in his arms instead of in an empty bed, wondering exactly how life would shake out now that you had fallen in love with your soulmate.

Maxwell Lord:

Dream Sharing Soulmate AU

“I’m going to cry,” you groaned, pressing your head to the table. “He hasn’t slept in days.”

Your coworker, Ellie, sighed. “Hon, you just gotta keep trying. Go home, rest up. Get some sleep.”

You stood. Ellie was right. Just because Max wasn’t sleeping didn’t mean you had to punish yourself. You’d been going rounds with him for months, and it was really starting to weigh on your own sleep schedule. All you needed, all you wanted was to go home and sleep for days to correct your broken internal clock.

Your apartment was cold when you got back, and you quickly fiddled with the thermostat before stripping and falling into bed, cuddling up with the blankets and falling asleep almost immediately.

Just as with every night your soulmate didn’t sleep, you didn’t have a soul dream. Instead, you had your regular dreams, all nonsensical and silly. You woke up at one point to eat before falling back into bed, still exhausted.

This time, your dreams were different. You were in a soul dream, which meant he was finally sleeping.

“Max!”

No response as you ran around the elementary school, but you quickly skidded to a stop, seeing bullies mock a young boy for his lunch. That was your Max as a child, and you immediately rushed to his aide.

“Max.”

The real Max, the one who was asleep right now, looked at you with worry, finally tearing his eyes off the bullies. “You.”

“Me,” you said softly. “You need more sleep.”

Max shrugged. You knew who he was, after all, who didn’t? But the suave businessman you knew on TV was very different from the scared man you knew from your dreams. “Wasn’t tired.”

“For three days?” You asked. “Max, that isn’t healthy.” You felt a tug on your gut, a signal that your dream was starting. “C’mon.” You held a hand out, offering Max a reprieve. “My dreams are kind.”

He accepted, taking your hand as you led him to your dreams. In your subconscious reality, you were a child again, laughing and ice skating with your parents.

“Can you skate?” You asked Max, still holding his hand. He shook his head.

You smiled. “That’s okay, you can learn.” You snapped your fingers and skates appeared on both of your feet. “C’mon!”

Turned out, Max was an abysmal skater, but he was laughing by the time your bodies were ready to wake up.

“I don’t wanna go,” he admitted, and you grinned, squeezing his hands tight. “Can we do this again?”

“Tomorrow night,” you promised. “I’ll find you.”

For almost a month, you rescued Max from embarrassing or painful dreams, taking him to your more comforting dreams. Occasionally, he’d do the opposite for you when you had a nightmare, but you mostly spent the nights in your dreams, watching fireworks or going swimming. His darkest secrets were no longer secret, and he trusted you with everything.

“Y’know,” he said softly as you and him watched a Fourth of July fireworks show from when you were seven. “We could do this in real life.”

“We could,” you murmured, leaning closer to him. “The fourth is, what, next week? Doesn’t DC do a beautiful fireworks show?”

Max nodded. “We could make our first shared memory.”

You smiled. “We could,” you agreed. “We will. I’m not too far from DC, I can totally drive down on the fourth. I’ll pick you up from work, how’s that sound?”

“Sounds perfect,” Max murmured softly. “Dreamlike even.”

You laughed. “Dork.”

“Hey, you fell in love with me!”

“Yeah,” you said, looking at Max’s firework illuminated face. “I did.”

Pero Tovar:

Color Soulmate AU 

You pressed the leaf between your fingers, trying to gauge how sick the plant was. The grey color didn’t worry you, because you were fairly certain it was still green. “It just needs more water,” you determined, standing and brushing yourself off. “Try watering these plants daily instead of every other.”

The woman you were helping nodded, and you smiled at her as you walked back to your own garden. Rolling your sleeves up, you got to work tending to your plants.

It was hours before you looked up, alerted by the sound of hooves on the ground. A mysterious man was sitting atop a horse, his hair long and greasy, his face creased from what you imagined was a grueling ride. He jumped off the horse and stumbled in your direction, leaning against the fence. You stood, abandoning the plants in favor of helping the man.

He shook off your help, but stopped the second his hand connected with yours and both your worlds exploded with color.

You stumbled back, the sudden colors shocking you as the man reeled from you, his sun battered face full of shock.

“I’m sorry!” You said quickly, steadying yourself and reaching out to the man. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” the man said firmly, right before he passed out.

Two days later, the man woke up, his partner by his side. The blond man had showed up yesterday, introducing himself as William and the mystery man as Pero Tovar.

Pero looked around, nervous as he saw you in the corner, slowly and methodically mending his shirt. “William, quien es este.”

William shrugged. “I don’t know. Not a nurse, from what I can tell.”

“Diles que se vayan.”

“I’m not leaving,” you said, without looking up. “And please continue to talk about me in a language you assume I don’t understand.”

Pero blinked a few times. “You’re smart.”

“I pick up on languages fast,” you said, setting down the mended shirt. “Who are you, Pero Tovar?”

William looked between you two before finally speaking up. “Should I leave?”

“Please,” you said.

William left, and you crossed your legs. “So, who are you?”

“No one you should know,” Pero growled, getting up and grabbing his shirt. “Just forget you ever met me. You have your colors, go live a happy life.”

You frantically tried to keep him in the village, but he left with William as soon as the local medic deemed him okay.

For the next week, you slowly learned colors, finding your favorites with much trial and error. Some of the village women who had lost their soulmates in battles consoled you as you grieved for a man you barely knew, a man who had given you a universe of change and then left as if it had been nothing.

Almost exactly one week later, the sound of hooves rang out again, and this time, you didn’t look up from your gardening. At least, not until the visitor entered your garden, standing in front of your vegetables.

You looked up at him, taking in a much neater and more groomed Pero. He seemed nervous, shuffling from foot to foot.

Standing, you raised an eyebrow. “Can I help you?”

Pero nodded, handing you his dagger.

You took the weapon. “What’s this?”

“In my culture,” Pero began. “When a man is ready to settle with his soulmate, he must give them his most prized weapon as a way of showing he is ready to stop fighting and raise a family.”

The dagger gleamed in the sunlight, and you smiled. “Well then, I guess I should make dinner for two, shouldn’t I?”

Pero grinned. “Yes, that would be nice. I’m hungry.”

[skylarmoon71]

Bumblebee x Reader (Transformers)- Chapter 4

“Did I oversleep again?”

You squint, raising your head from your pillow. You almost jumped at the sight of the Autobot sitting in your room.

“B-Bee!”

You covered your mouth when you realized how loudly you said that. Running to the door, you locked it before turning back to him.

“W-What are you doing, how did you even get in with no one seeing.”

Looking out the open window, you realized it was still pretty dark. You just sighed. He was sitting with his legs pulled to a side. Because of his size, and the lack of room, there wasn’t much space for him to spread out.

“I missed you sport.” you couldn't be mad after he said that. It was only a weekend and he was already lonely.

“I’m surprised Sam never notices when you sneak away. Then again he’s probably used to it by now.”

Bumblebee was just sitting attentively, looking at you with those curious blue eyes. Now that he was just staring at you, it made you a little self conscious. You hadn’t exactly prepared for his arrival. All you had on was a tank top and a pair of shorts. You tugged at the shirt, looking down at your feet nervously.

“(Y/N).” you looked up at the sound of his call. He held out his hand for you. Stepping forward a bit hesitant, you took his hand. He guided you to the spot right between his legs, and you followed, sitting down. With your back to his chest, you tried to keep your eyes forward. Your nerves were on end.

“Bee you...when did you get your voice fixed?” you needed to make some type of conversation to keep your mind occupied, that seemed like the best topic. He sounded so different when he said your name, with no help from the radio it appeared.

“Ratchet has been helping me, do you like it?” you nod, turning slightly to look up at him.

“Mhmm, it suits you.” He sounded like a regular teenager. Yet still slightly mature.

“I’ve been learning a lot of things while you’ve been away (Y/N).” you raised a brow.

“Really, like what ?”

“Like the way humans interpret things compared to us. On cybertron we form bonds through our spark. It connects us. “ He pointed to his chest.

“Physically, we don’t have a heart, so there are still a few parts that I’m trying to understand. Like pain, pleasure..” you swallowed. Was it just you or did he say that part pretty seductively.

“O-Oh, well that’s r-really cool Bee.”

Why were you getting so worked up, you were imagining things. There’s no way that Bumblebee was trying to come unto you. That was ridiculous.

“Can I ask you a question (Y/N)?”

“Yeah sure, hit me.”

“Can I touch you?” you almost choked.

“T-T-Touch me!”

His hand came down, metal fingers resting on your knee. You were so small compared to him. The thought of him touching your body didn’t scare you, more like it excited you. That’s what sort of scared you.

“Are you afraid of me?”

“N-No of course not, it’s just that I-I...well I..” you stammered, not sure how to phrase it.

“You’ve never been touched by anyone.” your cheeks burned. You weren’t sure how to deal with your embarrassment, so you just buried your face into his chest plates, nodding slowly. A deep chuckle echoed throughout the room, and hell it was definitely the sexist thing you’d ever heard.

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I’m kind of relieved. Lately just being with you doesn't seem like enough. I can't stop thinking about you. Your eyes, hair, lips..” His tone sends you into a small stir. It's so entrancing.

“Bee..”

Where did this side of him come from?

“Yes.” you gripped at his arm. Closing your eyes.

“Y-You can.”

“I can, what?” He was obviously teasing.

“Touch me. I want you to touch me Bee..” His engine reeved slightly.

The hand that reached down and slid between your thighs had your head spinning. Your fingers were digging into the metal of his hand as you tried to remain calm. You whimpered slightly. With your already lacking clothing, you could feel everything. His fingers were cold, but the moment it touched your most sensitive area, your entire body set aflame. Bumblebee was watching, studying every little sound you made, quick breath you took. He was getting pretty heated himself. Your breathless expression was so arousing. He wanted more, needed more. His free hand groped your chest softly and you moaned out his name.

“This is incredible.” He whispers. You were shaking in pleasure with every stroke of his hand to your core. You bit down on your lip, trying to stifle your moans.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to keep it in (Y/N), I want to hear you. Does it feel good?”

It felt amazing. If only you could put that into words. You settle for a half nod.

“I love you like this (Y/N), you’re so submissive it’s adorable.”

Another helpless whimper left your lips as you bucked.

“Bee...Bee..Bee!”

You gasped, rolling unto the floor with a thud.

Looking up, your eyes were wide.

“N-No way…” you did not just do that.

“Oh shit.”

You had a wet dream, about Bumblebee.

“I’m screwed. “

That you were.

~~~~~

Waking up the next morning was a struggle. You twisted and turned in bed, and at the end, you only managed to get two hours of sleep. The blaring alarm clock on your dresser made you groan, rolling over.

“I really hate school.” This was the worst way to start Monday morning. Standing up begrudgingly, you started your morning routine, dreading what was about to await you.

~~~~

“What’s got you so cranky.” you turned to your friend, opening your eyes a bit wider and she just started laughing. “You look like you haven’t slept in weeks, what happened?”

“Had a weird dream.” There was no way you were going to tell her you had a sexual dream about your alien robot friend who you were hopelessly crushing on.

“Stop watching those crime shows before you go to sleep. I keep telling you but you never listen."

If only she knew.

With a long sigh, you gripped your bag, pulling it over your shoulder. At least school was over. You barely made it through the first period. If not for the nap you took at lunch, you would have been out the rest of the day. Walking in step with your friend, your eyes drifted to the yellow vehicle parked outside your school.

“Hey (Y/N)!”

The window rolled down, and Sam grinned at you. Mikaela was in the passenger seat, wearing a smile of her own.

“Hey guys what’s up?”

The both of you went to different high schools, so it wasn’t unusual for him to stop by every now and then.

“Bee was getting a bit impatient, so I decided to just come pick you up.” Your heart skipped. Your friend nudge your hand with a smile, in which you returned with an eye roll.

“See you later (Y/N)~” She really did remind you of your mother sometimes. You waved her off, opening the door as you slid into the seat. The door closed and Sam pulled off. The conversation was light, you added in a word every now and then just to let them know you were invested, but your mind was elsewhere. You slumped a little in the seat. Just staying awake in class was a challenge. You were exhausted.

“Can I touch you (Y/N)..”

Your eyes flew open. You couldn’t even close your eyes anymore. You folded your hands on your lap, trying to steady your breath.

“Don’t make a scene, calm down, calm down.”

“You alright back there?” Sam watched you from the rear view mirror. Mikaela turned, and you were positive she noticed the flush in your cheeks. “I...I..” you couldn’t even speak properly.

“It's a girl problem isn’t it?” Mikaela interrupted. You were confused for a second, but the look she sent you, you knew she understood what was happening somehow.

“Y-Yeah, these cramps are torture.” Sam grimaced. “Enough said. Bee, step on it.” He didn’t even question it. You smiled at Mikaela appreciatively, mouthing your thanks.

The ride went by faster, and when you stepped out of the car, Mikaela followed. “I’m gonna help (Y/N) Sam.” He nodded. “Do what you gotta do.” You could tell he just didn’t want the details. It was funny how childish he was when it came to that stuff. She kissed him goodbye.

“B-Bye Bee.” you mumbled.

“Later.” you didn’t need to be a genius to know he was disappointed. He was obviously looking forward to spending the evening with you. All that was running through your mind, there was no chance that would happen. You could barely survive a car ride, you weren’t sure you could sit through a conversation with him without those images flashing in your head. Opening your front door, you headed straight for your room, Mikaela behind you trailing silently. Inside your room felt like your own little safe space, and the moment you dropped your bag, she was watching you with a smirk.

“Okay spill, tell me everything.”

“W-What do you mean?”

“Don’t play dumb, you were blushing in the car, and I’m one hundred percent sure it wasn’t because of Sam. “

So she did realize. You were honestly praying she would assume you were crushing on Sam.

“Would you believe me if I said he’s kind of cute?”

She looked unimpressed. “Nice try, now spill. “

You fell backwards on the bed covering your face.

Mikaela’s face lit up. “Oh my goodness you have a thing for Bumblebee!”

“Shhh not so loudly!” you almost fell off the bed for the second time that day.

“You have to tell him, I can tell him if you want.”

“No! No one’s saying anything especially after that dream I had.”

Shit.

“Oh..my goodness.” Mikaela mouthed. You groaned.

“You had a dirty dream about him!!”

“AHHH!! Would you keep your voice down woman!!”

There was a whole lot of talking after that. The biggest reason behind your fear of anyone finding out was more because you thought they would judge you. Bumblebee was a robot, yet to you he just felt so human like that you barely paid mind to the rough exterior. He didn’t even have a beating heart, but he held the power to make yours go into overdrive with just a look. You were hopelessly in love with him.

How would you hide that?

[perseusjackson-jasongrace]

Snowy Favours

i wrote this for one of my favourite humans in the entire world! @queen-of-demons-and-hell i just kind of forgot to post it on here oops

masterlist; my links

[image has alt text]

She smells coffee. And then pancakes, and then freshly squeezed orange juice. And suddenly she's three days into a Indonesian island holiday and there's sun streaming through her windows and the sheets draped over her bared skin are cool and if she opens her eyes she'll be met with ruffling lace curtains and the sight of the ocean just over the deck.

Annabeth Chase wakes up to silence. To darkness. To New York plunged into winter as if Khione had taken her rage out on the city over night. Snow covers the concrete buildings, already turning sloppy and muddied with the trek of never ending people. She is nowhere near Indonesia, nor in a villa overlooking blue waters. She is in her grungy apartment in her more-mattress-than-bed bed and the single window in her bedroom looks out onto the brick of the building next to her. In short its just another Monday morning.

The disappointment that floods through her is breathtaking. She feels her life swallow her up, wrapping around her lungs and squeezing as if it had taken lessons from a python. Her fingers curl around the duvet pulled over her as she stares at the wall, at the pictures littering it. She takes a deep breath, another, another. Slowly the python loosens, her heart returns to it's normal rhythm.

Glancing at the small pink clock on her bedside table she almost groans as she sees the time. Three minutes till her alarm rings. Not enough to dive back into bed but enough to consider it anyway. She forces herself to get up, feeling the cool of the wood under her feet and traipses to the bathroom where she is met with tile, the sudden cold pulls a hiss from her.

With a zombied look in her eyes she goes about her morning routine: pee, teeth, shower, change, scrounge around in empty cupboards for something at least half edible, scarf another energy bar when nothing better makes itself known, and then finally pack her bag and make her way out. She can do it with her eyes closed by now, sometimes she even does.

Still as she steps into the biting air that comes with snow her body wakes up considerably. With a curse that middles Greek and English, she twists her scarf tighter around her neck and pulls her beanie over her ears. She decides she can spare a moment to go to her favourite coffee shop this morning just to throw down a hot drink that hopefully scorches her insides.

With a determined step she sets off to the subway, earbuds shoved into her ears blaring "do re mi" by blackbear. A violent song for this early in the morning but one she mumbles along to all the same.

The coffee shop, as she so lovingly calls it, is more like a caravan sized hole wedged between two skyscrapers. It fits maybe five people comfortably, ten if you're looking to be smothered. But the coffee is beyond magical and they have the most decadent blueberry muffins she's ever had the pleasure to eat. Besides her best friend works here and really if anyone can turn her from bruised-eyed zombie to semi-human it's Percy Jackson.

The door creaks as she steps through, announcing her presence. She's too busy basking in the warmth of the little hovel to worry about the greeting thrown her way.

"Gods it's cold out there." She sucks in a breath, feeling her lungs defrost.

"Yes," Percy grins, "I suppose someone pissed off Khione again."

She rolls her eyes, as her body collapses against the black marble counter. "Khione gets pissed off about everything that's hardly an excuse to give us all frostbite."

"I suggest you take that up with her, because I cannot see any of us coming out alive after that conversation."

"Just give me a coffee you menace," She scrunches her nose in distaste, but cannot keep the playfulness out of her voice.

"Want a blueb?" He shakes a paper bag, something thumping inside. "On the house." The accompanying wink sets her cold skin on fire.

Her eyes narrow as she surveys him. His unruly black curls are kept back by three butterfly shaped clips, bright pink and probably Estelle's, and his skin browner— like dark roast coffee— from the weekend his family had taken in Spain three weeks before glows softly under the warm yellow light hanging above then. The black polo neck he wears under his "Holed Up" company t-shirt, makes his eyes look darker than normal. His jeans, faded blue, stand stark against the rest of his outfit. Even like this, in work appropriate clothes, he looks beautiful. Looks like the beginning of spring, and the happily ever after of stories, and the change of tides.

"What are you planning?" His look of incredulity almost makes her laugh.

"Why would you think I'm up to anything?"

"I've known you since we were twelve Jackson," She scoffs, as if his question is ridiculous in itself. "I know every face, every expression, every movement of your body. I know when you're up to something." She finishes off with a glare for good measure.

His green eyes are bright as he studies her, emotions warring across his face. To spill or not to spill. He pushes her coffee across the counter and she looks at him expectantly as she grabs the cup with both hands. Her numb fingers instantly start to sting with the sudden change in temperature.

"Fine." He sighs, looking at her through his lashes as if maybe be could get away with not telling her. She raises a brow. He curses under his breath and flops down on a chair hidden behind the counter.

"I need your help with something—"

Yes, of course, is on the tip of her tongue. She would do it. No hesitation. There's not much, not anything, she wouldn't do for him.

"But before you say no or worse get mad you have to hear me out." He finishes quickly. And then his eyes are big and pleading and she doesn't know if she wants to turn away or lean in closer, study that captivating green like it's the newest find in her paleontology class.

Instead she clears her throat, "What is it Percy?"

"I need you to be my fake girlfriend." He says it in one breath.

She almost asks him to repeat in case she hadn't heard right. But she knows she did. She knows she couldn't have heard anything else

He swallows. She blinks. He drops his head to his hands, a sigh already on his lips. She opens her mouth, snaps it shut.

"Okay I know it's...odd," He starts, "But I kind of got roped into going to a mixer with some people from my class and this one guy asked if we could go together but I don't really like him so I said no." Percy was rambling but she was too speechless to stop him. "But then he looked really hurt and I felt really bad so I kind of said I already had a partner which made him look less hurt but then Piper, the girl hosting the mixer, over heard me and said I should bring my partner along, since a few of them were bringing their partners, and you know I couldn't exactly back out of the lie after that so I said I would and well..." He gestures between them. "Then this happened."

Annabeth takes a sip of her coffee. And another, she downs almost half the cup before she has the ability to talk. "Why don't you just say your partner is sick on the day?"

It's her first question and instantly she wants to take it back. Because the flinch Percy tries to hide is enough to have her scrambling for a way to take back the words. Because it's not that she won't be Percy's (fake) partner, or even that she doesn't want to.

It's more that she doesnt know if she'll be able to draw the line between fake gestures and her very real feelings. Having a crush on someone for the better part of eight years tends to tug at her emotional side in a way that overules her logical one. Yes she can be Percy's fake girlfriend. No her heart won't believe the lopsided grin he gives her when he makes a bad joke will be 'just for show'. Yes she can hold hands with him and meet his friends. No she can't help the jump in her stomach as she sees the interlaced fingers.

"You don't have to." He says quietly. "I'll think of something." He waves it off, a small smile already finding its way onto his face. She knows, even without careful study, that it doesn't quite reach his eyes. She has to fix this.

"No." It comes out in a snap of rushed regret. "I will, I want to."

He looks at her, gaze wide, hesitant. "You do?"

She nods and then, as if the gesture isn't good enough stumbles through her words. "Yes, I want to." Her smile is shy, but the beam she's rewarded with nearly knocks her off her feet. "I think it'll be fun."

He scoffs at her, waving a hand. "Everything we do is fun. We're Percy and Annabeth."

And he says it's like there's no other way their names could be said. Like if someone says his hers must follow. Like if someone says hers his cannot possibly be far behind. He says it like they belong.

Her heart does a giddy sort of flip that spreads warmth through her chest and in her stomach, better than the coffee ever could.

"Okay Percy Jackson." She holds out her hand, to shake on. "Let's pretend to be madly in love."

With a wink, that causes her brain to explode, he takes her hand in his and turns it over before placing a delicate kiss on her knuckles.

She becomes the air itself. And as she floats to lectures she decides maybe it's not just another Monday. Maybe she did wake up in a paradise of sorts. Maybe life isn't so dull. She laughs to herself.

It can never be dull if Percy is there. It never has.