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sooniebby · 4 months ago

Note

hello, if you still take requests, please hear me out

reader is roommates with a guy. a rather hot guy, to be honest

reader is in denial whenever someone asks if he's attracted to his roommate, but it's obvious he is, he can't take his eyes off him... taking quick looks at his crotch...

anyways, unfortunately the room only has one bed, in which they sleep on together. normally, they sleep each on each side of the bed, but tonight, roommate hugs reader from behind, sleeping spooning

reader won't admit, but he's sooo horny. he just lowers his hand and starts jerking off right there and then, careful not to wake roommate up

little does he know his roommate was just pretending to be asleep and is well sure of what he's doing. now, roommate will show reader what he's made of

would you mind writing something like this?

ఌ 𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐄

W.C › 9.2k

Warnings › this is a random oc. Bottom male reader!!! Changed a few parts of the plot and added kinks since there wasn’t any. Get ready for me using song lyrics, just for a little bit. Anything not translated will be translated at the ending notes. if I have any Korean wrong correct me! I appreciate feedback, I’m not fluent!

Kinks › dubcon, lite somnophilia, dom/sub, manhandling, predator/prey, size difference, blood, possessiveness, dacryphilia

Words to know › 자기야 (jagiya/jagi) means “baby/sweetie”. 선배 (seonbae) title for someone older in school/work. 형 (hyung/hyeong) name for older male from a younger male. 아/야 (a/ya) showing closeness to someone. 동생 (Dongsaeng) little brother/sister, doesn’t have to be a biological sibling/can be a friend.

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

❝ 김진우 ❞

Those words were practically all that you heard these days. You know, when you originally came to this university, you had big plans. Plans to date as much as possible. Finally lose your virginity!

But they’re nothing important compared to who you unfortunately got paired to dorm with.

Kim Jinu.

A third year at your university. You felt bitter, to say the least. Of course you would have to unlucky chance of being paired with an upperclassman than another freshman. Gah, you wanted to cry.

Anyone that came up to you was always asking about Mister Kim Jinu! What about you?! You were handsome too!

Well, you were a potato next to Jinu.

The Korean beauty standards just had to pick favorites.

A slow soft sigh left your lips as you stared at your empty screen in front of you. Your fingers twiddled with your pen before you leaned over and pressed it against the screen, attempting to finish the outline of your sketch. You were an art major, dreaming of being an animator or even a comic book artist.

Much to your parents dismay. You haven’t had your mother’s signature kimchi in almost two months now due to your choice. But you tried not to dwell on it! You wanted to be happy.

And if being a starving artist is the only way, so be it!

Speaking of starving….

Your stomach growled as you whined and tossed the pen onto the desk, lying back in your chair as you swirled around. You’d have better luck being a Kpop idol at this point. Maybe it’s not too late. Who doesn’t like a filler member?

You glance in the small circle mirror resting on your desk and probe at your cheeks. Plastic surgery isn’t too much, right? Maybe a slimmer nose? Double eyelids?

“(Name) Oppa..? What are you doing?”

A shriek left your lips as you looked back at Cho Yoona, your classmate. A tight smile pulled on your lips as you took the iced coffee she had in her hands.

“Nothing, nothing. Oppa is just having a mental breakdown.” You said, quickly taking a sip of your coffee to gain some energy back.

Yoona grabbed a chair and pulled it close to your desk, sitting down next to you. “Hm. What are you doing now?”

“Ah? Well, the theme was something out of our comfort zone, so I was trying to create… uh… nude portraits..”

“Huh? Nude? Will Professor Lee Hyunki approve that?”

You shrugged, placing the coffee down onto the desk. “I have a backup plan. I haven’t been able to get in touch with him anyway.” A groan left your throat as you saved your draft before shutting off your computer. “Anyway, let’s go. It’s getting late.”

As you and Yoona packed up, she suddenly looked over to you with a big smirk.

“Oppa… are you… close to Kim Jinu Seonbae?” She asked, looking up at you with wide eyes.

“No.” You quickly said, rolling your eyes. “We’re just roommates. Not close at all.”

“Oh.” She muttered, pouting. “You’re lucky, Oppa. You get to be so close to Jinu Seonbae. Isn’t he handsome up close?” She squealed, clutching her notebook tight against her chest. “I’d die if I get to see him right after he takes a shower!!!”

“Get your mind out of the gutter.” You muttered, playfully flicking her forehead. The two of you left the classroom, turning off the lights and closing the door.

Once Yoona went her own separate way to her own dorms, you couldn’t help but think about what she said. Jinu… in just a towel..?

You heaved as you accidentally swallowed your coffee a bit too fast, pounding at your chest once you finally reached your dorm. Your hands fiddle with your keys while you fight off the harsh coughing burning at your chest. The door swings open as you struggle inside, slamming the door behind you.

Tossing your bag onto your side of the room, you make a beeline for the mini fridge and pull out a water bottle, downing it in seconds. As the cool refreshment calmed the coughing beast within you, you suddenly realized you weren’t holding your coffee anymore.

Your eyes trailed down to see it lying spilled on the floor not too far from your feet.

And unfortunately, it spilled right on a stake of papers near Jinu’s backpack. A shrill girlish scream right of a horror movie leaves your throat as you collapse to your knees and pick up the coffee cup, seeing the damage.

Your fingers felt numb as they slowly peeled the notebook open, seeing the pages stuck together like glue. The once white sheets dark in black, ice cubes coating it like sprinkles. Holy fuck.

Fuck fuck.

Jinu was going to kill you!

With the coffee coating the paper, you could hardly read what was written in it. But judging from the top cover, it looked to be a study guide or something.

Your eyes squinted as you tried to read what you could in hopes of gaging just how bad you fucked up. The words that you could only read were: “바보…토끼…자기…”

What the fuck?

Idiot, rabbit, babe?

What the hell was Jinu writing about?

Jinu was a business major. You couldn’t recall him taking any classes dealing with animals. Maybe it was a code word? Well, all that mattered was that it didn’t seem too important so you quickly grabbed the notebook. Drying it with a hair dryer seemed like your safest bet.

The room door opened, catching your attention as you shoved the notebook behind your back. There stood Jinu, obviously waving bye to someone before finally looking into the room. His eyes zoned in on you, face just frozen for a solid second.

You panicked, thinking that he could possibly see the notebook behind your back. Not the fact you were on your knees, staring up at him with wide cute eyes, and plump lips pulled into a slight pout. Especially with your sweater that was large and baggy, something you preferred, with one of the sleeves down—showing your bare shoulders.

Why would you wear tanks underneath the sweater? The buildings here aren’t that cold.

“Jinu Seonbae..!” You whisper, giggling nervously as you pressed the notebook tight against your back, taking a peek to make sure it didn’t stick out. “How.. was your day?”

Jinu blinked. Once, twice, before a large grin pulled onto his face and his eyes practically closed into those crescent moons girls swooned about. Whatever he was thinking about was long gone.

“I thought I told you to call me hyung, (Name). We’re going to be roommates for a while anyway.” Jinu said, closing the door behind him as he slipped off his shoes and put away his jacket.

You wanted him to stay as far as possible—you couldn’t have him seeing the mess you made! Your eyes trailed around the room, looking for something to distract him with. The floor was feeling sticky from the coffee, its spill coating the floor and now your knees. You didn’t even noticed you had accidentally knelt in the damn puddle.

“H..Hyung! Uhm, can you… get me some napkins?” You yelled, stopping Jinu just as he began to walk past the bathroom door. He balked at your raised voice but simply hummed, turning on his heels to grab some from the connected bathroom.

Your hands gripped the sticky notebook and shoved it underneath one of your old textbooks on your desk, standing up just as Jinu came back.

“Spilled something?”

“Mhm… just some coffee.” You muttered, thanking him for the napkins as you kneeled back down to wipe it up. “I don’t think it got on any of your things.”

Jinu let out a noncommittal hum, standing just inches from you as you bent over. You felt watched—to a strange and uncomfortable amount but you didn’t want to say anything. Once you finished, you glanced up at him, hoping he possibly didn’t notice his missing notebook.

But this position.

No.

No, it was his stare really. You felt yourself squirm, wondering how a guy could look so cute not too long ago and watch you like a hawk the next.

“Ah, (Name), did you eat the sandwich I bought you?” Jinu suddenly asked, his gaze shifting to his desk as he moved past you, sitting down on his chair. “I tried to remember what you liked.”

“Oh uhm. I gave it to my dongsaeng.”

The soft taps on the desk stopped, causing you to look over at Jinu. He was facing the window so you couldn’t get a read on his face. But the total silence made you feel as if what you said was the wrong answer.

“Dongsaeng? Biological?”

“Uhm. Yes. My little brother came to visit me.” You muttered, feeling a bit weirded out he asked that. “He skipped school to see me, but I didn’t have enough money to take him out so I just gave him my lunch. Sorry, Seonbae.”

Jinu’s light tapping on the desk began again as he let out a laugh. “It’s okay! I’ll just make sure to get you two next time.” He turned to face you, a large grin on his lips. Any tension in your body slipped away as you couldn’t help but smile back.

Kim Jinu wasn’t too bad of a roommate.

Just a shame he kept cockblocking you.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

“Wa, Hyung, these lover letters are all for you?”

On your desk, covering your keyboard and almost the entire space area, was a small mountain of love letters. In your classroom for art major, you all had small little cubicles that was essentially your work station. Unlucky for you, many people found out exactly where yours was to leave gifts.

Oh but not for you.

Are you kidding?

They were all for Jinu.

Your classmate, Im Taeil, reached over and grabbed one of the food that were left, reading the sticky note attached to it. “Oh. This one is for Kim Jinu Seonbae.”

“They’re all for him.” You muttered bitterly, grabbing a heap of them and stomping over to the trash, dumping them with no remorse. Taeil watched you in awe as you cleaned your desk in seconds, leaving just the few snacks.

“Why do they give them to you instead of Jinu Seonbae?” Taeil asked, pulling at the rest of the sticky notes to read what was on them. “Wouldn’t it be easier to just confess to him? Wow, these notes leave nothing to the imagination. I think some of these are from guys too.”

You rolled your eyes, grabbing one of the chocolate bars and pulling it open, taking a big bite. “I don’t know! Maybe they can’t handle rejection. I hope they know I’m not his damn servant!” You plopped down onto your chair and sighed, wanting to just drown in your sorrows.

So much for getting laid or finding a partner.

All that anyone wanted was Kim Jinu!

Agh!! You just wanted to say, “꺼져!” But you knew saying “go to hell” to everyone was a bad idea and would practically send you into the shadow realm of no friends.

Though your only friends seemed to be Taeil and Yoona. But you didn’t really think they liked you as a person. You were just the easiest to talk to.

“Hyung, can I…?” Taeil suddenly whispered, catching your attention. His hands made a grabby motion as he inched close to one of the snacks on your desk. You mutely waved and allowed him to grab whatever he wanted. You’d probably just give the rest to Yoona or something. Ah, maybe your little brother…?

“Oh, Oppa! Taeil!” Yoona greeted, the door pushed open as she carried a bag filled with goods. She skipped over, a bright cheery grin on her lips as she stood right in front of you and Taeil. “Look what Jinu Seonbae gave me! Ah, he’s so cool!”

Taeil peaked into the bag and pulled out a bag of chips. “Wow. He really got these for you?” You couldn’t deny the slight twitch in your lips at his wording. Her? Just for Yoona? No way. No way…

Yoona shook her head. “Not just for me! It’s mainly for (Name) Oppa!” She took out another pair of chips and two sodas, handing one over to Taeil. “The rest is for you! There’s a note inside.”

The bag was practically thrusted onto your lap as Yoona walked over to her desk across from yours and plopped down, eagerly chowing down on her snacks.

Taeil looked curious on what the note said but seemed to know there was limits to his nosy behavior as he sat down at his desk two seats away from you. Huh. Mainly for you?

Weird.

You pulled open the plastic bag and pulled out a soda and chips, similar to what he gave Taeil and Yoona. But there was more: two turkey sandwiches. You pulled out the one that had a sticky note on it, tilting your head as you read his handwriting out to yourself.

❝ 여기, 샌드위치 두 개요. 오직 토끼만을 위한! 아니 동생! ❞

❝ Here, two sandwiches. For Bunny only! No Dongsaeng! ❞

“No dongsaeng?”

You shrieked, looking back to see Taeil suddenly standing behind you. He grinned sheepishly, taking a step back.

“Sorry, Hyung. You got so quiet… I was a bit worried.”

Yoona perked up from her desk, tilting her head. “What does it say?” She walked over and glanced down at the note. “Who’s bunny?”

You shrugged, “not sure. I’ve never been called a bunny before.” You let out another pathetic cry of shock when Yoona and Taeil were suddenly close to your face, eyes wide as if they were examining you like a piece of meat.

“Really? You look more like a deer to me.” Yoona muttered.

“No… I see the bunny. Ah, but maybe hamster too. You have chubby cheeks, Hyung!” Taeil chimed in.

You rolled your eyes, wanting to push them away but you kinda enjoyed the attention. You weren’t really into the whole animal representative thing that a lot of Kpop idols did. Just didn’t see the purpose, especially after you grew up. But you wouldn’t lie and say you didn’t like being referred to as such cute animals.

You could’ve gotten an insect!

The rest of the day was uneventful. You actually ended up eating both sandwiches Jinu gave you, slaving away at your project. It wasn’t going as great as you envisioned—nowhere near. You had no problem creating a nude body it was just difficult to make it… artistically pleasing and not full on horny.

❝ 잠깐만요 시간 있나요?…. ❞

Yoona’s Bluetooth speaker sang the melody of AOA - Excuse me as you stared at the rough draft in front of you. You wished you didn’t pick digital art for this project and stick to traditional but there was no use complaining now.

Your wrist tensed as you zoomed in on the face of your model—creating the soft brush strokes of his hair. Sharp eyes, black in color. The outline of lips that you would paint in pink. Maybe even red. Earrings? No, he doesn’t have any.

He’s gotten bigger. Definitely compared to the pictures you’ve seen of him last year from his friends. Weights..? Boxing? His knuckles looked bruised sometimes when you saw him.

Red, aching. Cuts of skin. Bright and glossy from the ointment he’d put on it. Tanned skin. Red against tanned skin—a perfect contrast.

Does it hurt to move? If you kissed it, would the blood coat your lips?

It was such an edgy thought but you wondered how it’d look to use his blood as lipstick.

His thumb pressed on your bottom lip, slowly smearing it. Would he call you pretty? Kissing you so you both can taste the metallic rush of blood. Maybe you can taste something else. White, maybe?

Your breathing shuddered as your grip on your pen tightened, legs pressing tightly together. Red and white. Would he like you in that? Pretty and pliant just for him to claim. Your free hand gently pulled at your pants, alleviating some pressure against your crotch.

Bunny. Were you his bunny?

Is that what he thought of you? Helpless and defenseless? His fingernails digging into your soft skin as blood spilled, your soft moans teetering on the verge of tears.

What did he remind you of?

A fox?

Don’t they eat bunnies?

You didn’t know why the thought made your whole body spasm. Your breathing getting heavy as the pen began to slip from your hand. He’d chase you. Yeah, that’s what a fox does to their prey. Chase you until couldn’t run anymore, huddled in a dead end as he got closer.

You’d cry and beg but he’d take you. Because he wants you—wants you so bad he can’t control himself. He’d always wanted you beneath him screaming his name for all to hear. As you became his prey.

❝ 벗어날 수 없는 걸 ❞

“Oh! I love this song! Taeil, do you like The Boyz?” Yoona said, turning up the volume. Taeil hummed, looking up from his screen. His eyes looked bloodshot at this point. How long have you guys been here?

“I prefer girl groups. Like Red Velvet!” Taeil said, proudly showing his phone that had a Lock Screen of Seulgi. Yoona cooed and showed her Lock Screen of Kevin. Wow, you’re stuck with Kpop fans. You rubbed your eyes, looking away from your screen to stop seeing the dark spots appearing in your vision.

Taeil and Yoona began talking about their favorite groups while you listened to the song. It felt oddly fitting for the mood you were in right now. You’d have to ask Yoona for the name later. Right now you need a drink, stat.

You grabbed your water bottle and took long gulps as you finally glanced back at your drawing. It took a moment for it to fully register before you let out a scream.

No it was certainly manly.

“Hyung?!”

“Oppa?!”

There—right in front of you—was Kim Jinu staring right back at you. You…

You fucking drew him?!

❝ 온통 너로 물들여질 테니… ❞

No way. No fucking way.

But there it was, staring back at you. His fluffy black hair slicked back as if he was drenched in water. Black eyes with his signature big nose. His lips weren’t pulled into his usual smiles. You had drawn him with all of his features except that damn smile.

Damn Kim Jinu… he was affecting you in ways you didn’t think was possible.

You quickly saved your draft on the tablet and turned it off, needing to just go to your dorm and sleep this daze off. “Yoona… Taeil… I need to sleep.” You muttered, Yoona and Taeil staring at you with worried looks. “You guys should go sleep too. It’s late.”

Yoona and Taeil didn’t fight it. It looked as if they were waiting for you to give them permission. You waved them off, stating you needed to clean up a bit before leaving. Your professor didn’t like crumbs. But you didn’t clean, you just stared at your tablet. The large tablet that the school provided that was now logged on into your account, holding a secret.

Your breathing slowed as you reached over and pressed the power button, waiting as it lit up. The soft taps filled the room as you logged back in and clicked your recent save. He appeared in front of you again.

That fox.

A shudder left you as you pulled down your pants, along with your boxers, as your cock plopped out against your tummy. It was small. Smaller than most. Around 4 inches. Possibly 3 really. But it didn’t matter to you really—you didn’t think you’d ever want to top anyway.

Your hand grasped your cock as you began to pump it slowly, staring straight at the drawing in front of you. His cock. You wondered what it looked like.

You respected his privacy so you never dared to stare at him whenever he came out of the shower.

But you wish you did. Wish you could have an accurate picture of how it would look. How it would be deep inside of you. Would it make a bulge in your stomach?

Is he thick? Long? Maybe both.

You arched your back against the chair as you took shallow breaths, your whimpers filling the empty room. Your toes curled as you whined and mewled, wishing someone else was jerking you off.

Oh who were you kidding?

You wished it was Jinu.

Even as you reached your orgasm, cum coating your tummy, you didn’t feel any relief.

What fun was it if he didn’t chase you?

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

“Jagi….”

A hum left your throat as you buried your face into your arms, shivering slightly from the cool air that tickled your stomach.

“Jagiya.”

Puffs of air brushed against your cheek. It was warm, a nice contrast compared to the cool air that covered you. A finger gently touched your cheek. Poking and doing small circles around the outline of it. The hand trailed down your face to your back, rubbing circles as it started a slight rhythm.

❝ 날 놀리는 거야, 예쁜 자기야. ❞

Despite the taps jolting against your skin, it almost lulled you back into sleep. It was something you missed, the touch of someone special. Slowly, it inched further down, moving to the end of your sweater. Your body flinched at the hand now teasing your skin directly as it grazed it your stomach.

❝ 무방비 토끼. 내가 너를 먹어치울게 ❞

It felt sticky. A deep chuckle reverberated against your back. The touch on your skin was possessive, rubbing and massaging your stomach. Your body flinched as your breathing began to stutter. A hand slipped further down, easily squeezing its way into your pants. The sensual touch—it felt as if you belonged to them and only them.

❝ 도망기면 쫓이갈거야, 토끼야… ❞

A gasp left your lips as your eyes opened, looking around to notice that you were still in the classroom. Fuck. Your body tensed as you moved away from your desk, groaning at the awkward position you slept in. As you stretched, your gaze flickered to an ice coffee on your desk with a sticky note attached to it.

It had a badly drawn bunny on it with a heart next to it. The words: “fighting!” were scribbled beside the crude drawing. You couldn’t help but smile, placing the note on small bulletin board near your desk.

It must’ve been your hyung, Lee Minjae. Or who you affectionately called, Minnie Hyung. He was the one who pushed you to pursue your major instead of what your parents wanted. Such a great hyung.

The whole thing about Jinu felt like a distant memory. You’d have to change what you’re submitting for the project, immediately.

No way in hell were you going to submit a nude of your fucking roommate.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

There was a something wrong with your bed.

After you took your shower and changed into comfy pajamas, you noticed there was something wrong your bed. Well for one the fucking mattress was missing. You had called Jinu if he knew what happened but all he said was that he found a nest of spider eggs in it so the school confiscated it.

Unlucky for you the school were cheap stakes and it was gonna take a bit of time before you got a new mattress. Jinu had said you would be sharing with him but you didn’t necessarily think you could survive something like that.

Him pressed up against you.

Would it…

You pushed the thought away. Your eyes trailed off to your desk when you suddenly remembered the ruined notebook. You walked over and grabbed it from beneath one of your textbooks, seeing it in its fully ruined glory. There was no salvaging it at this point. You hoped Jinu didn’t care for this dumb thing.

But you were curious to see if you could read it fully now.

You slowly peeled it open and bristled at just how bad the damage was. Half of the pages were stuck together and when you tried to part it they tore. The pen he used to write it had smudged from the liquid so his handwriting was ineligible.

Right before you had given up to just toss it, you came across the last page, seeing a word you could understand. “Jagi.” Huh. Who was this babe of his? You tried to push away the slight bitterness in your throat the thought of that.

Of course he’d have a girlfriend. He was Kim fucking Jinu.

It’d be a shock if he didn’t.

You tossed the notebook into the trash can and made sure to put your food snacks on top of it just in case Jinu decided to accidentally look in there. If Jinu ever asked about his notebook, you’d pretend you never even seen him with a notebook before.

Now all you had to deal with was the problem of sleeping in the same bed with Jinu. You’d survive.

Hopefully.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

You haven’t survived. It’s been two weeks and it felt as if you hadn’t slept in years. Jinu keeps two pillows between the both you while you slept but somehow the two of you always end up close. It wasn’t even a day ago when you woke up to yourself resting right on Jinu, your cheek pressed against his chest while your hand palmed his neck.

He had a big chest—you wished you had a little bit of a degenerative attitude to feel him up.

But you’d rather not be known as the perverted roommate.

“(Name)-Ah? Something wrong?” A hand gently rests on your shoulder as you glanced up to see Lee Minjae staring down at you. A cute grin pulled on your lips as you placed your pen down to grip one of his hands. You just liked touching him.

“Minnie Hyung! What are you doing in the art department?”

Minjae smirked, leaning down as your noses touch. “Can’t check in on my dongsaeng? Your classmates have been telling me that you’ve been cooped up in here. It’s not good for you to stare at the screen for this long.” You giggled, watching as he pulled away.

“Mhm. I’m okay, promise!” You could feel yourself acting cuter in Minjae’s presence. It wasn’t shocking. He always made you feel safe to act how you do behind closed doors. You could wear whatever you wanted around him without being judged.

A perfect, perfect hyung.

“Ah, Hyung, thank you for the coffee last time! I enjoyed it.”

Minjae hummed. “Coffee? I didn’t bring you coffee.”

“What? You didn’t? Then…” You pulled your lips into a pout as you thought about who would do something like that for you. It couldn’t be Yoona and Taeil. You weren’t close to anyone else.

“Ah, did my pretty dongsaeng finally get a secret admirer?” Minjae grinned, playfully pulling at your cheeks while you whined. The two of you began to giggle like little boys as you stared up at Minjae with a look of pure content.

You hoped you had Minjae with you forever.

A soft knock on the door caught your attention as you and Minjae glanced to the right to see who it was. The position you were in was almost of that of a couple. Your hand grasping Minjae’s as they rest on your shoulders. The previous nose rubbing and even just you looking up at him like he hung up the moon.

Were you two a couple?

❝ 타오른 이 감정은… ❞

Jinu was having a terrible day. First he had to entertain a few random teachers with something he didn’t even care to remember. Second he was bothered by some fourth years about a project they needed help on. And now, he had to deal with Cho Yoona and Im Taeil’s yapping about their favorite song while he walked to your classroom.

That song Yoona was playing just made him angrier. Insanity was the name of the song, at least that’s what she said. Jinu felt the same and thought if he had to see something else that pissed him off he’d die a slow death.

So of course he had to see you, his bunny, making fucking whore eyes to some random seonbae.

What the fuck?!

Jinu forced a tight grin and held up a bag filled with food. Food that was just for you but of course he can’t say that. Despite himself, he tried to keep an easy going and fun attitude when speaking to other people. Though he was wondering if he should forgo that for punting Lee Minjae into the sun.

That stupid pig.

You wouldn’t even look at Jinu, you haven’t been looking at him often these days. He knew it was because you were embarrassed about the sleeping arrangements. But it was the only way he believed you could get closer to him.

So what if he deliberately put a spider and other insects in your mattress in hopes they laid eggs and ruin it so then it would force you to sleep on the same bed with him?

You don’t understand any of his other hints or flirting attempts.

He needed results fast!

You were hopping away to any other dick that wasn’t his and he couldn’t have that.

This chase he was having with you was starting to make him insane. If he didn't have you beneath him soon he wouldn't survive another night with you. His whole plan about having you sleep on his bed honestly felt as if it was back firing on him. You were so cuddly when you slept, always finding a way to move over the pillow barrier.

He always pretended he was asleep when you woke up in a panic, always pulling away before he could truly saver your touch—your warmth.

He was truly going insane. All he could remember was the first time he ever saw you. But he couldn't think about it further when he felt Lee Minjae's hand pat him on the back. Jinu fought every muscle in his face to not immediately grimace at the other's touch.

"(Name)-Ah, Yoona, Taeil, I'll take my leave now. I don't wanna bother you guys any longer." Minjae leaned down towards you and Jinu felt his upper lip twitched as he watched the older with his stupid dyed blonde hair that looked fried and crispy nuzzle his nose against yours.

If that wasn't enough, Minjae wrapped his arms around your neck and held you close as he pressed a wet kiss on your cheek. You shrieked and struggled against his hold, trying to avoid the kiss. But you hardly put up a fight, all giggly and smiley. You looked so small in Minjae's arms, so pliant and easy to hold.

Jinu pulled at his sweatpants, coughing slightly. That seemed to catch Minjae's attention as he stopped his childish assault and gave (Name) a cheeky smirk. Yoona began cooing at how cute you and Minjae looked together.

You didn't. No way. Jinu fought the urge to pull Minjae away from you.

Taeil tilted his head, "Jinu Seonbae, are you okay? Your eyebrows are so furrowed. You might pop a blood vessel."

The others looked over at Jinu, Yoona and Minjae questioning if he was alright, you especially with a look of concern in your doe eyes.

Good.

Worry about him and him alone.

Pay attention to only him.

"It's nothing," Jinu said, puling out his signature lady killer smile. "I think I just need to eat something, I haven't had a proper lunch in ages." Yoona immediately swooned while Taeil rolled his eyes. Minjae seemed in deep though as he stared at Jinu, the fourth year tilting his head as if he was digging deep into Jinu's soul. Figuring him out with a just a look.

Minjae grinned. "Let your seonbae take you out, yeah?" He suddenly said, catching everyone's attention. "I know a place not too far from here that sells great tteokbokki."

Like I'd want to be caught dead with you... Jinu thought to himself but he simply hummed. "Sure, Seonbae. Bye, Yoona, Taeil..."

Jinu stared right at you as Minjae pulled away from you. Your eyes flickered over to Jinu and you offered him a tight smile, waving slightly. "See you, Jinu Seonbae."

"See you, (Name)." He whispered, mostly just happy you even looked him in the eye.

But his happiness was short lived when you looked at Minjae and offered him a cute smile. A smile that you’ve never gave him. "Bye, Minnie Hyung!"

Minnie Hyung?!

Jinu followed Minjae out of the classroom, curses swirling in his mind as he stared at the man beside him. Minjae chuckled after a moment or so and looked over at Jinu with a smirk. "Y'know, you can't blow my head off with just your stare. I didn't know you were into my (Name)-Ah."

His? Jinu was fine with being expelled at this point but Minjae suddenly stopped in his tracks. "Jinu-Ya," he placed his hand on Jinu's shoulder while Jinu wondered what gave the man the audacity to use such a title with him. "If you want (Name)-Ah, you have to take him. There's so many wolves that want him." He smirked knowingly, his finger tapping Jinu's shoulder.

Just as Jinu was about to speak, Minjae pressed his finger on his lips. What the fuck? "Listen to your hyung, Jinu-Ya. With someone so naive like (Name)-Ah, you just take him like you own him. Chase after him, there is a dead end soon."

With that, he pulled away and smirked. "Tell me how the chase goes. I've been waiting for someone to snatch up my dongsaeng."

Jinu just stood there blank faced in the middle of the hallway as Minjae walked away. Just what the fuck was that? He didn't even think too hard about it when he realized he didn't have to worry about you and Minjae. Phew, that stress was short lived.

But what did he mean by dead end?

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

You were going insane.

It felt you were being watched these days. You had finally finished your project, having going with another idea and completely abandoning the whole nude thing. But it still sat in your drafts, practically calling you everyday. Sometimes you'd go back...

You'd finish certain parts of it. His body fully detailed expect that dreaded crotch. His dick. You wouldn't dare make what you believed his dick to look like. There was still some sense of self respect deep inside you.

Just not strong enough to not pay attention when you were drawing something for fun. You had a art account that you posted on like once every month of gay art you drew. So you were creating the piece, feeling in the mood to do something with oral fixation.

Only for you to notice instead of the usual two same characters you stuck to, it was Jinu as the top. Which, fair, it wouldn't be too different from what you had literally done weeks ago.

No, the problem was the partner.

You drew yourself.

You fucking drew yourself.

The drawing felt so real compared to the others you've made. Drawing Jinu between your legs, holding you up, bending you over on the bed. Your shoulders rest on the bed while your legs curled into yourself. His mouth biting the flesh of your ass, his eyes staring right at you, the real you.

Of course you had to angle it this way. Fucking pervert.

You tried to salvage the drawing but each stroke on that cursed tablet just made the partner look more and more like you. Okay, you were desperate for sex at this point. It was too much. You pressed the delete button on the sketch and powered off the tablet.

"I'm going, Taeil. Don't stay too late."

With lighting speed, you rushed to your dorm, trying to ignore the growing boner in your pants. Why did you have to like someone like Jinu? Out of all the people at this stupid university. Even Minjae would've been better than Kim Jinu of all people. But you couldn't complain any further because when you stormed into your dorm, fucking Kim Jinu was there, sitting at his desk.

Jinu glanced over at you and grinned, taking off his glasses as he shut off his laptop. "You're back earlier than normal. Did you end up finishing quick?"

You numbly nodded. "Yes... I just need to sleep. My eyes hurt." You couldn't even look at him. His gaze followed you as you grabbed your pajamas. Wherever you stepped, eyes were right on you, watching you like a predator does his next prey.

Bunny and fox.

That's what you imagined him as.

A fox.

It felt so hard to breathe with him near.

Why did it feel like there was no escape?

❝ 지금 너를 미치도록 ❞

The soft sputtering of the fan filled the room as you laid there right awake on Jinu's bed, wondering why you couldn't sleep despite your tired eyes. Jinu was fast asleep, his back pressed your own back. You didn't know why the usual barrier wasn't here tonight but you couldn't care too much about it right now. Not with your growing boner.

You haven't masturbated in two weeks. It's not a shock that the stupid art from earlier was still affecting you like this. You wondered if you could just sneak into the bathroom and quickly jerk one off. Would he notice? Just as you made the decision to get up, strong arms suddenly wrapped around your waist. Your body stiffened as you felt Jinu snuggled against your back.

His face buried in your neck, his nose and bangs softly tickling you.

What...the...fuck?!

Your legs subconsciously clamped shut at him so close. Okay, you were fucking screwed. The thought of moving seemed impossible now with him so close. His grip was so strong that you didn't understand how someone asleep could have such strong coordination.

Despite being cuddled by your crush, your cock was more alive than ever, leaking against your pajama pants. You let out a stifled whimper as you reached down and gently rub the bottom of your palm against your bulge. The relief was almost instant as a guttural groan escaped you before you could stop yourself.

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Were you really going to do this?

Yeah.

Yeah you were.

Soon the fan wasn't the only one making noise. Your soft and breathy moans filled the room as you jerked off. Your body flinched from the pressure causing your butt to rub against Jinu's front.

Wait.

He was... hard...?

A wave of fear washed over you as you stilled your hand. No, no. He must be having a wet dream or something. Yeah, he can't be awake hearing you. No. No way. You needed to reach your damned orgasm and just go to sleep. You'd deal with the shame in the morning. You finally decided to pull down your pajama pants to grasp your cock and not just rub it anymore.

You pumped your cock, making sure to still your body so you don't accidentally rub your bare ass against Jinu's clothed crotch. He'd hate that. No, he'd hate to learn what you're doing. Fuck. The shame was already affecting you. Stray tears fell down your cheeks as you bit down at your pillow, still chasing your orgasm despite the shame filling your lungs.

Embarrassment. This was so fucking embarrassing.

It was close-- your orgasm. Inches away, dancing on the tip of your fingers as your moans began to reach a crescendo. So much for muffling yourself. Your edge to your orgasm was wrecking you—sending you to a mental space you couldn't imagine in any other circumstance.

Was this how sex with someone you liked felt?

Could Jinu make you feel this way?

Was... him being here making you this way?

It wasn't enough. You wanted more. Your legs shifted as you subtly pulled your pants down, kicking them off without a care. You didn't have any lube but you had no time. The tease of ecstasy was whispering your name—calling you to go further. So you did. You suckled two of your fingers, getting them as wet as possible before slipping down between your legs.

The two seconds of pain as you pushed them inside did not deter you. You could deal with a little pain. It was rough. Your fingers rubbed against your inner walls, searching for those bundle of nerves to drive you wild. But it was difficult in this position. You usually masturbated on your back or while sitting up.

You wondered if you should go as far as to shift positions. That'd be too much, right?

The shame was finally catching up to you. You couldn't do this. This disgusting and degrading action towards both you and Jinu. Your eyes closed as you sighed, eyes fluttering shut. It was too much.

"You're done already, (Name)-Ah?"

A chill crept up your spine as those three words were whispered right into your ear. Your eyes widen but you couldn't move. It was as if his words just took out any sort of life within you. His arms around your waist tightens as you feel him nuzzle himself further on your neck.

Your breathing feels erratic. You can't breathe. It feels as if you'd die right here, right now.

You looked down to see his hands. They looked recently bruised from his usual boxing. But now they felt different. As if it was a show at just how durable his body was. His arms slowly began to tighten around you only to you let out a sharp cry at the pain, earning a pleased grunt.

"You're awake, yeah? Are you ignoring hyung?" He whispered, his lips trailed your neck, stopping right at the tip of your air. "You can masturbate right beside me but can't even answer me?"

A pathetic whine left your throat as you tried to wiggle from his grip but it proved to be futile. You gasped, arching your back as you felt Jinu rub his crotch right against your butt. He began to hump you ignoring your shocked gasp.

Was he...?

"So selfish, bunny. Chasing your own release. Not even thinking about what your moans were doing to me." His right hand trailed down and pushed you to lay on your front, his body following to lay on top.

You cried out, gripping the bedsheets like a life line. "You.. were awake...?"

"I never went to sleep." He said honestly, spanking you right on your ass. You squeaked, back arching to get away from another spank. "I never knew you would do something like this. I was beginning to think you hated me."

"I never—”

"—but you never listen to me, do you? I tell you everyday to call me hyung but you never let it stick. What, do I have to force you to say it?"

"We aren't close!" You whined, whimpering at another spank. Your lower hips wiggled but you didn't make any effort to truly push Jinu off of you. You didn't understand yourself sometimes.

"What? But you call Lee Minjae hyung without any problem." Jinu grunted, his hand reaching over to grab something from the slim nightstand next to the bed. You couldn't tell what he grabbed until something cool and slimy was drizzled onto your ass. A whine left you from the coldness. "What'd he do? Fuck you? Chase you like you so desperately want?"

"Nooo," you whined, screaming when he shoved in two fingers inside your hole. Your hands dug into the bedsheets as he thrusted his fingers in and out, a constant rhythm with no sign of stopping despite your pleas for him to slow down.

Jinu chuckled, leaning down as he used his free hand to push your hair away from your face. "You act so innocent but you want this. I'll show you that I'm the only one for you. No other man can chase you like I can."

"What... ngh!!! are you talking... about..?" You manage to ask, wishing you could silence yourself. Your neighbors will certainly be having a long talk with you and Jinu tomorrow.

"Oh, bunny. My bunny, you really are so naive." Jinu whispered, pressing a kiss on your cheek. "You don't even know what you crave. It's okay, hyung will take care of you now. You won't ever have to think again."

Your body began to spasm as you felt a finger graze that bundle you tried to reach earlier. Jinu stilled for a moment, a look of slight worry in his eyes before he noticed what had just happened. A cruel smirk pulled on his eyes formed those crescent moons you once associated with his innocence.

But it didn't bring any sort of serenity to your body.

You were flipped onto your back with ease as Jinu grabbed your thighs and pushed them forward, effectively blocking your view from him. Desperate and pained moans left your lips as he continued to finger you, fingers gunning consistently at your prostate.

A loud scream left your throat as your back arched against the bed, your cock finally releasing the weeks long pent up lust you've stored for awhile now. Your stomach slowly rose and fall, coated in your sticky cum. All you could think about was your orgasm back in the classroom.

You were right.

Jinu made you cum harder than you could ever do by yourself.

You expected him to pull away but instead you felt a tug on your cock. A whine of overstimulation left your throat as you parted your legs and looked at him with wide doe eyes, confusion written all over your face.

A cruel smirk pulled on his lips as he tilted his head. "I've wanted you since I first saw you. You really think I'll let our first time be so lackluster?"

Lackluster?

He thought that was lackluster?

A pained cry left your lips as he began to thrust his fingers inside once more, leaving no sympathy as he immediately went for your prostate. You were going to die. You were going to die being fingered by your roommate. Kim Jinu was going to be the death of you.

It didn't take long for you to cum again and again, your fifth orgasm not even releasing anything. Your body twitched as your eyes watered, tears streaming down your face from the constant overstimulation. You weakly pulled your legs away from Jinu's grip after your fifth orgasm, muttering something about dying from his touch.

Jinu chuckled, allowing you to pull away. "Ah, Jagi," he whispered, causing you to blush at the title. To use such a term for you... You shamelessly felt your spent cock twitch. No, no, no! You absolutely couldn't do anymore. "You're so cute. I wanted to wait but I can't. You'll forgive me, right?"

You watched with wide eyes as he grabbed your waist and pulled you down towards him, earning a shriek from you. Your legs moved up to hide your aching and loosened hole but he was quick, spreading them wide. His eyes were like a predator, watching your every move as you tried pulling down your shirt to cover your weeping cock.

"Seon—Hyung... No more... No more, please." You whispered, looking up at him with pleading eyes.

Jinu's gaze narrowed in on your face. You could see him think. Your body was aching and praying Jinu did what you asked. But your heart....

Your heart wanted him to take you without a second thought.

"Hm. No." Jinu laughed cruelly, flipping you to rest on your knees. You cried out at the sudden movement but could only whimper as he pushed your back down, lifting up your hips. Your face pushed into the bed while your thoughts rushed at the position. It felt so humaliting to have sex without looking him the eye. You felt like an object. A prize he just won.

Your dick twitched.

So much for self respect.

"Hyung's gonna take good care of you." Jinu whispered, spreading your ass apart as he rubbed his cock between the cheeks. "You'll be good for hyung, mhm? No more seonbae."

You only whined, wiggling your hips, your ass rubbing Jinu's cock.

Jinu teasingly slapped your ass. "You complain about it being too much... But look at you now, begging for my cock. I should just stop listening to what you say and take what I want. Would you stop me, (Name)-Ah? Would you run away?"

Run away?

Run away from the man you've had wet dreams about since you came to this damn university?

"Mhm. I'll run..." You whispered, a strangled moan leaving you as he began to push his cock inside of you. The stretch was difficult and you briefly wondered if this was how you'd die.

Heart attack from a thick cock.

Despite your answer, Jinu hummed. "Good. I'll chase you until you're beneath me, shaking in fear as I take you." His hands gripped your waist as he slammed the rest of his cock inside, earning a gargled cry and scream from you.

Jinu was anything but sweet. Fucking you like a beast as you withered and cried from the constant pressure against your prostate. After this, you weren't sure you'd have sex again. This could be enough for a life time.

"Sorry, (Name)-Ah. I can't last long." Jinu suddenly grunted, pulling out. You whined at the lost but didn't have to mourn it for long as he pulled you onto his lap, making you face him. Your arms subconsiously wrapped around his neck as he easily slid back into your tight heat, gripping your thighs as he bounced you on his cock.

Jinu smirked, his eyes trained right on you. "You look so pretty when you cry." He said, pressing soft kisses on your neck. "Next time, you'll be crying from just my cock. I'll make you scream my name."

You whimpered, arching your back as you pulled him closer, another dry orgasm creeping on you. You'd be sleeping well for nights to come. Jinu grunted as he began to thrust upwards into you in tandem with bouncing you up and down, causing you to cry at the sudden pressure. You were close. So close.

A sharp feeling in your shoulder caused you to spasm as Jinu's thrusts became desperate. It took you a moment to even think about what just happened--so focused on Jinu's cock stretching you out. Until you noticed red dripping down your right shoulder.

He bit you.

The delayed reaction to the bite made you scream out, tears streaming down your face you reached your six orgasm of the night. You went limp in his arms, just letting him chase his own orgasm. Teeth sharp enough to break skin wasn't something you ever imagined Jinu could do. But there it was, a rare and sore bite on your right shoulder. Blood slowly trickling down to your chest.

Jinu finally reached his orgasm after a minute or so, holding you close as he cummed deep inside. You shuddered, feeling his cum coat your sore tight heat. He didn't wear a condom. If you weren't fucked dumb you would've yelled at him about it but all you could do was hum as he pressed soft kisses against your wet and sweaty skin.

You glanced down and noticed blood coating the bottom of Jinu's lip as he pulled away from you.

He did end up coating you in red and white.

But your blood was the lipstick. You couldn't help but laugh at your cringy thought, groaning as Jinu pulled his cock out.

"You did so good, (Name)-Ah." Jinu whispered, kissing you on the lips. You tried to return the kiss but could only purse your lips against his.

Your breathing was harsh and quick, your body battered from Jinu's claiming.

This wasn't normal. Wasn't conventional at all. You were sure that if you told Yoona and Taeil about this they'd be worried for your safety.

You were prey to Jinu

But you were okay with that.

❝ 숨을 쉴 수 없게 아프면서 황홀하잖아 ❞

"You're going to roommate with a first year? Wow, good luck!"

"I didn't know they could do that."

"No one would willingly room with a first year. They're the worst."

"Aw, c'mon, Oppa! They're usually just nervous."

"Well, our Kim Jinu will have no problem. Who doesn't love him?"

"Ah, true. Good luck, Jinu!"

Kim Jinu pulled out his keys, unlocking the door to his new home for the rest of the school year. He'd be the one to get unlucky for his previously planned roommate to drop out of school—leaving his room open for a late transfer freshman. He didn't want to deal with first years, they were annoying.

He opened the door, shocked to see the room already having someone by one of the beds. The first year was knelt beside the bed, looking through the suitcase that was filled to the brim with clothes. Clothing that looked more feminine than anything but Jinu didn't judge.

He forced his usual carefree smile, ready to greet his new roommate when you finally turned around. His breathing stopped—his smile dropping at the sight of you. You... You were different from anything he imagined.

Your look of innocence. Your body suddenly becoming fidegty the longer he stared at you without saying a word. Your sweater drooping on your shoulder, showing off your bare shoulder. Your skin looked so soft, so plain. It needed something on it.

It looked too bare.

"I'm... Kim Jinu. Who are you?"

"Park (Name)." You whispered, your eyes flickering up and down his body.

Love at first sight wasn't real to Jinu. He wouldn't lie and say he felt love towards you when he first saw you.

He felt lust.

An urge to completely ruin you.

And by the look in your eyes, the not so subtle glances at his lower half of his body. You looked to be such an easy catch.

"Stop looking at me like that." You suddenly said, your lips turning into a slight snarl but it hardly held any weight. Jinu couldn't help but tilt his head. He could tell you wanted him but you were holding back?

Actively pushing him away as if you didn't look at him with the same lust he felt. Running away?

Like a game of cat and mouse.

No...

Fox and Bunny.

He was going to devour you.

Even if he had to chase you.

❝ 네게 빠진 순간 더는 결백하지 ��은 나 ❞

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

WOW!!! Gosh, this was way longer than it needed to be. I wanted to try something new lmao. Doubt i'd do it again, i was listening to kpop while writing this so it kinda just happened. Translations at the bottom! Yes, i did it for a reason, made it more fun if you didn't know what he was saying. Red is lyrics, pink are jinu’s words

I might make him an oc, i put too much effort into him for it to be a one time thing, smh... primal play is so fun.

tag list: @iwishtobeacrow @flurrina @chill-guy-but-cooler @mello-life25 @the-ultimate-librarian @kiiyoooo @ofclyde @love-kha1 @star-3214 @mooncarvers-world @smellwell @tehyunnie @remdayz @rhetorical-conscience @tomoeroi

Translations:

❝ 벗어날 수 없는 걸 ❞ — I can’t escape

❝ 온통 너로 물들여질 테니… ❞ — everything will be colored with you

❝ 날 놀리는 거야, 예쁜 자기야. ❞ — you’re teasing me, pretty baby

❝ 무방비 토끼. 내가 너를 먹어치울게 ❞ — defenseless bunny. I’ll eat you up

❝ 도망기면 쫓이갈거야, 토끼야… ❞ — if you run away, I’ll chase you , bunny

❝ 타오른 이 감정은… ❞ — this burning feeling

❝ 지금 너를 미치도록 ❞ — i'm driving you crazy right now

❝ 숨을 쉴 수 없게 아프면서 황홀하잖아 ❞ — it hurts so much that i can't breathe, but it's ecstatic

❝ 네게 빠진 순간 더는 결백하지 않은 나 ❞ — the moment i fell for you, i was no longer innocent

Songs used: Insanity - The Boyz & Criminal - Taemin

#bottom male reader #x male reader #sub male reader #uke male reader #male reader #mlm ns/fw #male bottom reader #oc x male reader #oc x reader #smut drabble #x male smut #original character #mlm nsft

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u3pxx · 8 months ago

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eat or be eaten. there is no hierarchy involved. eating is simply the privilege of the living.

1 | 2 | 3 | one out of three dungeon meshi illustrations i did for a class! 🪽🥩

id in alt text | like this art? it's a print, here! | like what i do? support me on ko-fi!

unfortunately, i forgot to hit record during the beginning orz but this still hopefully managed to catch a good bit of the painting process

as you may or may not have noticed, i've gotten into disco elysium, and around the time i made this, i've been making a lot of portraits imitating the style of the beautiful beautiful portraits in the game and i wanted to use the techniques i learned from doing that for here!

here's also the version with text! brief said to include the title and author. the objective of this lil thing i had to do for class was to design three book covers in different styles and i hope my professor thought this was a different enough style compared to the others bc i am a lil nervous that it's not pfttt

originally it was going to be laios there bc he's like the "main" character but then i thought about the image of falin holding like, the kingdom in her hands and so i had to stop everything that i was doing and draw that immediately (the text is flipped bc my prof told me to flip the whole thing bc they were originally facing the left, i just didn't bother to correct the text lmao)

of course, had to include the gang, so there they are very tiny on the foreground DFGHD i am so glad that i thought of adding thistle too bc i just really thought that lil detail of him walking away from everybody else was pretty neat

i also wanted her hands to be covered in blood but i wasn't skilled enough to make it look good in the short timeframe i had, it looked a little too busy, whoops!

(i should also mention that this piece was a huge inspiration for this! it's so striking that it never leaves my mind oughh <333)

#dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #falin touden #farlyn thorden #i dont think i'll tag the other characters they are so small in there lol #sunnysidedraws #sunnysidemeshi #described #id in alt text #i havent watched it yet but i heard that the ep were falin gets out of the dragon is out now so fitting time to post this ig pftt

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nasa · 1 year ago

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NASA Inspires Your Crafty Creations for World Embroidery Day

It’s amazing what you can do with a little needle and thread! For #WorldEmbroideryDay, we asked what NASA imagery inspired you. You responded with a variety of embroidered creations, highlighting our different areas of study.

Here’s what we found:

Webb’s Carina Nebula

Wendy Edwards, a project coordinator with Earth Science Data Systems at NASA, created this embroidered piece inspired by Webb’s Carina Nebula image. Captured in infrared light, this image revealed for the first time previously invisible areas of star birth. Credit: Wendy Edwards, NASA. Pattern credit: Clare Bray, Climbing Goat Designs

Wendy Edwards, a project coordinator with Earth Science Data Systems at NASA, first learned cross stitch in middle school where she had to pick rotating electives and cross stitch/embroidery was one of the options. “When I look up to the stars and think about how incredibly, incomprehensibly big it is out there in the universe, I’m reminded that the universe isn’t ‘out there’ at all. We’re in it,” she said. Her latest piece focused on Webb’s image release of the Carina Nebula. The image showcased the telescope’s ability to peer through cosmic dust, shedding new light on how stars form.

Ocean Color Imagery: Exploring the North Caspian Sea

Danielle Currie of Satellite Stitches created a piece inspired by the Caspian Sea, taken by NASA’s ocean color satellites. Credit: Danielle Currie/Satellite Stitches

Danielle Currie is an environmental professional who resides in New Brunswick, Canada. She began embroidering at the beginning of the Covid-19 pandemic as a hobby to take her mind off the stress of the unknown. Danielle’s piece is titled “46.69, 50.43,” named after the coordinates of the area of the northern Caspian Sea captured by LandSat8 in 2019.

An image of the Caspian Sea captured by Landsat 8 in 2019. Credit: NASA

Two Hubble Images of the Pillars of Creation, 1995 and 2015

Melissa Cole of Star Stuff Stitching created an embroidery piece based on the Hubble image Pillars of Creation released in 1995. Credit: Melissa Cole, Star Stuff Stitching

Melissa Cole is an award-winning fiber artist from Philadelphia, PA, USA, inspired by the beauty and vastness of the universe. They began creating their own cross stitch patterns at 14, while living with their grandparents in rural Michigan, using colored pencils and graph paper. The Pillars of Creation (Eagle Nebula, M16), released by the Hubble Telescope in 1995 when Melissa was just 11 years old, captured the imagination of a young person in a rural, religious setting, with limited access to science education.

Lauren Wright Vartanian of the shop Neurons and Nebulas created this piece inspired by the Hubble Space Telescope’s 2015 25th anniversary re-capture of the Pillars of Creation. Credit: Lauren Wright Vartanian, Neurons and Nebulas

Lauren Wright Vartanian of Guelph, Ontario Canada considers herself a huge space nerd. She’s a multidisciplinary artist who took up hand sewing after the birth of her daughter. She’s currently working on the illustrations for a science themed alphabet book, made entirely out of textile art. It is being published by Firefly Books and comes out in the fall of 2024. Lauren said she was enamored by the original Pillars image released by Hubble in 1995. When Hubble released a higher resolution capture in 2015, she fell in love even further! This is her tribute to those well-known images.

James Webb Telescope Captures Pillars of Creation

Darci Lenker of Darci Lenker Art, created a rectangular version of Webb’s Pillars of Creation. Credit: Darci Lenker of Darci Lenker Art

Darci Lenker of Norman, Oklahoma started embroidery in college more than 20 years ago, but mainly only used it as an embellishment for her other fiber works. In 2015, she started a daily embroidery project where she planned to do one one-inch circle of embroidery every day for a year. She did a collection of miniature thread painted galaxies and nebulas for Science Museum Oklahoma in 2019. Lenker said she had previously embroidered the Hubble Telescope’s image of Pillars of Creation and was excited to see the new Webb Telescope image of the same thing. Lenker could not wait to stitch the same piece with bolder, more vivid colors.

Milky Way

Darci Lenker of Darci Lenker Art was inspired by NASA’s imaging of the Milky Way Galaxy. Credit: Darci Lenker

In this piece, Lenker became inspired by the Milky Way Galaxy, which is organized into spiral arms of giant stars that illuminate interstellar gas and dust. The Sun is in a finger called the Orion Spur.

The Cosmic Microwave Background

This image shows an embroidery design based on the cosmic microwave background, created by Jessica Campbell, who runs Astrostitches. Inside a tan wooden frame, a colorful oval is stitched onto a black background in shades of blue, green, yellow, and a little bit of red. Credit: Jessica Campbell/ Astrostitches

Jessica Campbell obtained her PhD in astrophysics from the University of Toronto studying interstellar dust and magnetic fields in the Milky Way Galaxy. Jessica promptly taught herself how to cross-stitch in March 2020 and has since enjoyed turning astronomical observations into realistic cross-stitches. Her piece was inspired by the cosmic microwave background, which displays the oldest light in the universe.

The full-sky image of the temperature fluctuations (shown as color differences) in the cosmic microwave background, made from nine years of WMAP observations. These are the seeds of galaxies, from a time when the universe was under 400,000 years old. Credit: NASA/WMAP Science Team

GISSTEMP: NASA’s Yearly Temperature Release

Katy Mersmann, a NASA social media specialist, created this embroidered piece based on NASA’s Goddard Institute for Space Studies (GISS) global annual temperature record. Earth’s average surface temperature in 2020 tied with 2016 as the warmest year on record. Credit: Katy Mersmann, NASA

Katy Mersmann is a social media specialist at NASA’s Goddard Space Flight Center in Greenbelt, Md. She started embroidering when she was in graduate school. Many of her pieces are inspired by her work as a communicator. With climate data in particular, she was inspired by the researchers who are doing the work to understand how the planet is changing. The GISTEMP piece above is based on a data visualization of 2020 global temperature anomalies, still currently tied for the warmest year on record.

In addition to embroidery, NASA continues to inspire art in all forms. Check out other creative takes with Landsat Crafts and the James Webb Space telescope public art gallery.

Make sure to follow us on Tumblr for your regular dose of space!

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solar-wing · 8 months ago

Text

⚣ Nightwing & Shadow 🌃

⚣🌃 A/N → So, remember when I said I wasn't going to re-write and re-vamp Nightwing and Shadow like I did Primal? Hehe, funny story... I lied. HOWEVER, I did follow the original plot line...sort of. Just made it easier and smoother to read, along with SOME proofreading and fixing SOME grammar mistakes. So, this should roll out much faster than before (that also is possibly a lie knowing me). WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI | MAJOR THEMES of NON-CON/DUB-CON | Omegaverse | YANDERE Behavior | Mentions of Blood | Bondage | Lactation Kink | M-Preg | Oral Sex | Knotting | Implied Stalking |

⚣🌃 Summary → A new vigilante, Shadow, takes to the streets of Gotham, protecting its innocent Omegas against arrogant and brutish Alphas and the arbitrary and oppressive laws that support their criminal-like behavior. Yet, what will he do when in both his civilian and vigilante lives, he's plagued by the very same problems he's fighting against?

⚣🌃 Words → 11.1K

REBLOGS & replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💙

⚣ ENJOY 🌃

Welcome to Gotham City.

Known for its less-than-sunny atmosphere and crime-riddled streets, the city holds many titles under its mantle. One of them being ‘Utter Hell for Omegas.’

In the old days, Omegas were rarely seen as love interests, romantic partners, or even just random associates you’d nod at on the street. Nope, they always had two roles attached to their titles; Fuck-Toys and/or Baby-Makers.

Not much has changed in the present day, save for a few laws passed here and there that criminalized some behaviors. In truth, these new laws and punishments were the equivalent of putting a toddler in time-out before rewarding them with a cookie later for acting like they were ashamed of their behavior.

It seemed like every day, another Omega was being abused by an Alpha who never understood the meaning of ‘no’ because they were raised in a society where everything was supposed to be ‘yes’ for them. Taken against their will and made to live in truly cage-like homes with partners who could only be called that when it came to legal documents.

In reality, they weren’t partners. They were masters, abductors, and delusional sociopaths who relied on biology and society to abuse and take the things they wanted rather than earn them.

They never saw the Omegas they were stripping of free will and autonomy as partners, or friends, or even humans for that matter. They saw them as possessions, things to own and show off to their friends and family as a symbol of how great they were and how well they were doing in life.

And Gotham was the breeding ground for these types of men and women.

Some would call it for what it was; ownership and power. They had no shame or morals about the acts they would commit. Others dared to call it romance, claiming that true love drove them to these vile acts and oppressive rules.

If this is what they called love, it’d be interesting to see what they’d do if they hated you.

Yet, progressing times meant more progressive and outspoken minds. Many, including some Alphas and Betas who held somewhat decent morals and values, were calling for change. They were protesting to their local, regional, and national governments for Omega liberation.

Of course, no revolution has ever started, let alone succeeded without someone getting their hands dirty.

Enter our hero, Y/N, and his story which some would argue was the ultimate catalyst that led to the fight for Omega Rights and Protections pushing toward victory.

Y/N lived a relatively quiet life in Gotham. Born and raised in the city, his parents taught him from a young age not only how to navigate this world in a way where he protected himself, but also equipped him with the means to do so if need be.

He was trained in the art of self-defense from the moment he had his first incident in school, when the signs of biological dynamics were becoming more and more clear, and some bigger kids decided to pick on him for it.

His mother, an Omega herself, saw this and immediately went to her husband, Y/N’s father, and demanded they get him in lessons. He agreed and they began scouting classes the very next day.

Y/N was blessed enough to see what a truly happy and healthy relationship between an Alpha and Omega was like from his parents. His father, bless his soul, never subscribed to the ideology that Alphas were the superior dynamic and held power over those below them, especially Omegas.

No, he fell in love with his Omega, genuinely in love we should say and not that obsessive and creepy kind where they excuse their horrible actions because of said ‘love’. No, he courted and adored her as nature intended, and their story eventually brought Y/N into existence whom they also loved and cherished as if he was the most valuable treasure on Earth.

Fast forward to the present, Y/N was a strong and stead-fast individual who didn’t let his biological dynamic hold him back from what he was meant to achieve. Seeing how different the world was from how his parents raised him, he made it his ultimate purpose to see to the change and betterment of society that included protections and rights for Omegas in Gotham and beyond.

In school, he studied business and politics, which landed him a position at Wayne Enterprises post-graduation, where he surprisingly had the backing of Bruce Wayne, CEO and heir to the very company he was employed by. He voiced his support and even dedicated teams to his mission which initiated the spread to other companies and beyond.

If a powerhouse like Wayne Enterprises was supporting ideas and notions of Omega Liberation and rights, many companies would soon follow. And as many know in this world, money talks. Politicians want to keep their investors and backers happy, so they’ll more than likely support whatever it is they’re claiming to support.

Though, appearances can be deceiving. Just because these companies would take up the mantle that they were for Omega rights, didn’t mean their actions would show that. And if there was one thing Y/N prided himself on, was being able to see bullshit for what it was; bullshit.

It didn’t deter him, though. It inspired him.

When Y/N sat and thought about it, he realized the thing that started and fueled most rebellions and movements was a symbol. An icon or an example that truly represented the meaning and impact behind said movement. And his meaning or idea was justice.

Justice for all Omegas who had been or had yet to be wronged by a system designed to hold them down in chains for others to use and abuse. He also sought liberation not only for those living today but future generations where they didn’t have to live in a world where they weren’t seen as people or equals.

What could be that symbol?

Conveniently, as Y/N sat in the living room of his moderately luxurious apartment, he looked out the window to see a symbol being cast in the sky. A symbol many residents of Gotham were all too familiar with.

The Bat Symbol.

And that’s when it hit him…

True, Gotham was a city known for its less-than-friendly streets and crime-filled alleys, but if the stories his parents told him were to be believed, Gotham was much worse before Batman began protecting its civilians, along with his numerous sidekicks and partners.

Seriously, why does it seem like Batman, or Gotham in general gets a new hero or vigilante every year? Kind of weird when you think about it.

Yet, they were about to get another one as Y/N had made up his mind. He knew the symbol his movement needed, the inspiration that was lacking for so many Omegas in Gotham and outside of it.

They needed to believe that they could stand up for change. That they could fight back and be victorious against their abusers. There was no such thing as biology not being on their side as much as it was their own belief not being on their side.

Omegas needed something, someone they could look up to, someone they could see fighting back and say “If they can do it, so can I.”

Y/N was going to be that symbol.

Thus, Shadow was born.

A bit cringe when you think about it, but the desired effect was still there.

Using his self-defense skills that never went without practice with his growing up and living in Gotham, as well as a couple of connections with some engineering friends from college, Y/N or Shadow was set to be Gotham’s newest vigilante and protector.

With their help, he created his own style of weapons and utility tools to help him out on the battlefield. Most notable were a pair of twin-style blades that when tossed or thrown, expanded out into throwing discs. They were magnetized to each other as well which threw out the need for grappling hooks when he could just toss one forward and use the other to pull himself forward.

He dubbed them Shadowblades.

Yes, still cringe, but aesthetics are everything when it comes to this kind of work.

It helped to have rich friends, especially when it came to his outfit. While, of course, Y/N couldn’t have everyone he knew getting involved in this project, he only reached out to those he knew he could truly trust as they would have just as much to lose if Y/N was to ever be caught and unmasked.

As mentioned before, aesthetics were everything when it came to these ordeals, so his outfit had to match his name. The color scheme consisted of a shadowy black and purple along with a domino mask that had gold covers in the slits to keep his eyes hidden as well.

Skintight (as usual), but flexible and functional. It was also light enough to accentuate Y/N’s smaller and leaner body frame. However, it did nothing to hide the dump truck from behind.

“Nightwing would be put to shame,” A comment from one of his friends who took it upon themselves to jokingly cop a feel. Y/N ‘jokingly’ tossed one of his blades at them as a warning, which they clearly received seeing how close the spinning blades came to their face before zipping back and folding close in his hand.

That did it. Shadow was a force to be reckoned with.

The moment Y/N hit the scene with his new outfit and weapons, ripples were being made in the city. It didn’t take long for Shadow to become a recognizable name and face in Gotham, some dubbing him the Omega Savior with all of his notable rescues and actions.

Within the first few months of Shadow being a presence in Gotham, he’d not only thrown a few dirty Alpha dogs behind bars for attempted rape and abduction but also stopped a major Omega trafficking ring happening right in the city, as well as liberated a few captives from their abusive homes and partners.

Unsurprisingly, with the trafficking ring, Y/N discovered many links and connections from that operation to people who were big-name executives and even CEOs at major companies. Even more shocking (not), some of those companies were the same ones that took up the mantle of supporting Omega rights and freedoms.

Discreet as ever, Y/N wasted no time in ‘suggesting’ that Wayne Enterprises cut all deals and partnerships with these companies, which helped earn him a promotion when the scandals were eventually revealed to the public. This ended up putting him more on Bruce Wayne’s radar who delivered his promotion news personally himself.

In every story, there’s a turning point. Many know the structure that many books, movies, and even shows will follow with the inciting incident that leads to the rising action until you reach the climax, where things typically turn for the worse.

For Y/N, that moment was when Bruce conveniently decided to introduce him to his first adopted son at the same time he was delivering his promotion news, Richard Grayson, or Dick for short. Little did he know how much Dick was about to invade his life.

But, everyone deserves a little teaser, right?

Shortly after Bruce introduced them, he had to leave for a meeting, leaving the two alone in Y/N’s new office. It wasn’t awkward, but it also wasn’t comfortable, at least for the Omega who was wary of being left in a room alone with an unfamiliar Alpha, despite how famous he was.

Yet, Dick seemed to keep a respectable front, only coming as close as he deemed allowed while making small talk, and congratulating Y/N on his new promotion. The Omega gave his thanks while setting his things up on his new desk and shelves.

Now, despite earlier thoughts and possible assumptions, Y/N was no prude. Just because he fought against Alpha abuse and their entitlement didn’t mean he didn’t have his fair share of interest and attractions.

And Dick Grayson did spark his interest. The man was undeniably handsome and had a body many either desired to touch or have. But, Y/N knew self-restraint, and sad as it may be, in this world, he knew to practice caution with whom he showed his attraction.

Dick, however, did not follow the same line of thinking. Of course, why would he if the world was made for him to not have to?

He noticed one of Y/N’s gazes towards him and took that as all the sign he needed to make his move. When Bruce said he was going to deliver the good news initially to the Omega, Dick all but demanded he bring him along. The former acrobat had his eyes on Y/N ever since he first started, and was waiting for the perfect chance to swoop in and make his claim.

Dick did have the right idea that Y/N was not the easy type, and would probably try to resist his charming suaveness. He hadn’t met anyone before who had such luck, so he wasn’t worried. In fact, the idea of a potential challenge made him all the more bold.

And he showed that boldness by closing the distance between him and the Omega while his back was turned, pressing himself against his backside. Dick was not shy about letting Y/N feel what he had packing down there while he in return got a feel of what he had decided was now going to be his.

Y/N immediately jumped at the touch and turned to move himself away but was held in place by the adopted Wayne who leaned forward, pressing his hard chest against the Omega’s while leaning his lips down their his ear.

“Feel like breaking in the new desk?” Dick whispered hotly into his ear, pressing his very noticeable throbbing appendage against Y/N’s backside, the layer of clothes between them doing nothing to help mitigate the sensation.

Y/N could feel his instincts urging him to submit and present himself to the Alpha. He was no stranger to rumors and gossip and heard the many tales of Dick Grayson’s, well… dick, from many of his co-workers. Despite Bruce’s very relaxed rule about employees having relations with his family.

Though the temptation was there to see if the rumors were true, he was not about to let himself become another number or name in Dick’s or anyone's black book. He had to remain a symbol.

“Sorry, but I prefer to keep things a bit professional. And, frankly, you don’t meet my criteria.” Y/N sarcastically remarked.

“Oh, come on,” Dick smirked against the side of Y/N’s face, slowly grinding himself against him a little harder while rubbing one of his hands up his side, feeling the hot skin of the Omega under his silk-white button-up. “Don’t tell me you have a rule against workplace sex. Or are you worried because I’m the boss’s son? If you don’t tell, I won’t.”

Dick began pressing soft kisses against Y/N’s skin, now using both of his hands to rub up Y/N’s front, slowly beginning to undo the buttons. The Omega had to admit that he was good with his hands and lips, and he could definitely see some truth in his co-worker's words about the man’s hip control. But, logic wasn’t out of his mind yet.

Y/N began to use his arms to push back against the desk, creating a little room while the Alpha was distracted with trying to reach inside his shirt. He pushed off the desk, creating enough momentum to throw Dick off balance and allow him the chance to step out of his grasp, immediately moving to the other side of the room putting distance between the two.

“Boo, you’re no fun,” Dick mocked.

“Not for you. One of my criteria is not being a self-entitled brat who only thinks with his dick, and that’s just to get a text back.” Y/N rudely articulated. He quickly fixed the buttons on his shirt while the Alpha ogled his body up and down with no shame.

“If you come back over here, I’ll show you why everyone calls me Dick.”

He scoffed before exiting out of the room, marching himself to Bruce’s office. His assistant, Wyndall, was sitting at his desk, looking at the storm that was an angry Y/N who demanded to know if Bruce was in a meeting.

Wyndall was one of the only other few Omegas alongside Y/N who worked (relatively) this high in the company, so they both found friendship in one another and would often meet up for lunch to hang out and talk. So, when he saw his friend storming in the way he did, he knew something had to be wrong and immediately paged Mr. Wayne.

Given the okay, Y/N went into the office and, to keep a long story short, had a very heated discussion with Mr. Wayne that definitely did not end in him threatening to castrate his son if he came near him again. And, hypothetically if it did, Bruce respected it.

Y/N understandably made demands that if Dick was going to be present on company property at any time, he be notified in advance and not left alone with him at any point. He also made sure it was clear on the Alpha’s part that he was to have no contact or even attempt any with him and to keep his distance at all times, should they ever be in the same room together.

Bruce agreed to everything without a second thought and apologized on his son’s behalf, which, in truth, didn’t surprise Y/N as his boss always had been understanding and accommodating since he started at Wayne Enterprises. Y/N had to admit that the billionaire was one of the few Alphas that gave him hope in his vision for the future.

That was only the beginning of his troubles though. Not only did Y/N have to deal with pesky Alphas in his civilian life, but he had to deal with it in his vigilante one as well.

As more time went by with Shadow cleaning up the streets and helping more Omegas by the day, he eventually caught the attention of the city’s other ‘defenders’. This is when Y/N learned how ‘possessive’ Batman was of Gotham and didn’t appreciate some newbie moving on his turf without checking with him first.

He didn’t give Y/N the grace of making an appearance himself, but he did send his lackeys, or ‘team’ after him. Thankfully, none of them could keep up with him in the field, given his natural speed and agility. A credit to his Omega nature.

Only one could keep up with him though, and that’s where his Alpha troubles began as Shadow. Nightwing, Gotham’s second most famous vigilante, seemed to make it his personal mission to catch Y/N, and unlike the others, gave the Omega a run for his money the way he managed to keep up with his elusive ways.

The first night they met, which also happened to be the first night he made contact with someone from Batman’s team, he wasn’t surprised to discover he was being tailed and watched. He was expecting them at some point to try and make contact with him.

Though, in hindsight, he expected more of a welcoming, collaborative approach and less of a threatening, hostile trying to capture him one.

Shadow had just finished dealing with a couple of Alpha thugs who were trying to force themselves on an innocent Omega when Batman’s first sidekick made his appearance. Just after he finished tying up the mammoths, he felt the hairs on the back of his neck standing, hearing the sound of footsteps approaching him from behind.

Immediately grabbing his blades from his sides, he turned to find Nightwing standing just a few short feet away from him, blocking the way out of the alley. Y/N had to admit, Nightwing was definitely a lot more attractive in person. Not that he wasn’t from far away, but you could appreciate the view more up close.

“So, you’re the new kid on the block that has Batman all worked up? Have to say, I wasn’t expecting this when he asked me to check you out, but I’m not disappointed,” The taller man spoke, the shadows around his face barely hiding the suggestive glance he was giving the Omega.

“I get the feeling you’re doing a lot more than just checking out.”

“Guilty.” Nightwing chuckled.

Shadow’s facemask hid his annoyed eye roll, suddenly wishing it was Red Hood or Robin he was dealing with instead. From what he heard, they tended to get to their point a lot faster.

“Well, I’d say I’m flattered, but I did promise my mother I’d never lie. Anyway, I’m assuming you’re here on behalf of the Bat himself.” Y/N inquired, wanting to just get to the point so he could get back to doing his work.

“Yeah, Dark Knight would like a word with you. Not really pleased with you moving in on his turf. Can’t say I agree with him, though. I’m sure many have appreciated your touch around here.”

Cue another annoyed eye roll from Shadow. Between him and Dick, he didn’t know who had it worse when deciding to try and flirt at the most inopportune times. And it looked like it was going to be a draw.

“Now, my instructions were to give you the chance to come on your own and, if not, use whatever external measures as needed. But, I’m willing to forgo this little meeting in my memory if you’ll give me something worth forgetting.”

“And what exactly would that be?” As if Y/N didn’t already know what the smug Alpha was getting towards.

“I know you help and save Omegas, but what about poor Alphas in need?”

“Assuming you’re the Alpha in question, what exactly would you need?”

“The touch and comfort of a sweet and savory Omega like yourself.”

It was cheesy and overused. A cliché at best and totally cringe at worst. But, Y/N couldn’t deny (try as he might) the attraction he felt stirring in his body. He didn’t know what it was, but there was something in him itching to give in to the Alpha’s request.

It was like the feeling when you hear a sound or lyrics to a song and it reminds you of something, but you just can’t put your finger on it. And there was something oddly familiar about the vigilante that had Y/N’s curiosity piqued.

Yes, Y/N had standards and criteria for who he would decide to give his time to, but he couldn’t deny that Dick, and now Nightwing, both held something that made the idea of throwing both of those things out the window. But, again, his goal of being someone to look up to for him and all Omegas alike remained strong in his mind, so he went against his body’s sexual desires and instincts.

Was Nightwing attractive up close and afar? Arguably, yes. Did he appear to have a very nice and chiseled body under his skin tight suit? Also, arguably, yes. Yet, was he just as infuriating and annoying as every other persistent Alpha who couldn’t spell ‘Hint’ even with a dictionary in front of them?

Absolutely.

It was this thinking that helped Y/N come back to his state of mind before he faked a sultry smile on his face, walking forward to rub his hand down Nightwing’s chest (which, Jesus Christ, that motherfucker is FIRM). The Alpha smirked down at the Omega going to place his hands against his waist before getting the uno reverse of his life.

In some complicated flip and turn, Shadow managed to not only catch Nightwing off his guard but put him in a submission hold with his head and neck being squeezed between the Omega’s flexing thighs. What was that saying about saving lives? Because this seemed to be the opposite.

“Is this the comfort you were seeking,” Shadow maliciously teased the Alpha, while flexing his legs more, effectively choking out the Alpha. When he decided to release him, Nightwing fell to the ground coughing, trying to catch his breath while the Omega threw one of his blades to zip off.

“Next time, tell Batman to send Red Hood or Robin. They’re a bit more persuasive and less desperate.”

After that, Y/N made sure to be extra careful on his patrols, figuring Nightwing would not be as forgiving lest they meet again in another dark alley or atop a rooftop. His Alpha troubles were nowhere near over yet, especially in his civilian life.

Some time had passed after the incident between him and Dick at his job, and after having the janitorial and cleaning staff do a deep clean of his entire office which he tipped them graciously for (tip your service workers people), Bruce adhered to his conditions perfectly.

Whenever Dick was in the office, Y/N was immediately notified and he would have his schedule altered for the day to avoid any run-ins with the billionaire’s son. If there was an occasion where he couldn’t get out of it and the former acrobat was present, he kept his distance from him and was happy to see the other doing the same even if it looked like he didn’t want to.

You’d think with his tight schedules at work and his busy nightlife, the young Omega would barely have any time for fun and social things like parties and dating.

You’d be right. Y/N did not party at all, but he did find time to mix and mingle occasionally and had come up lucky in recent months. On a previous outing with some co-workers, after a successful deal had gone through, Y/N had met a nice and attractive Alpha who happened to be a friend of Wyndall’s.

His name was Leo and he was not only a fitness trainer, but also a teacher in self-defense arts and fighting. Guess what their first date was considering the mutual interest.

Dinner and a movie. Dirty minds think alike, huh?

But, Y/N truly felt like he was growing strong feelings for Leo. He was a respectable Alpha who treated him with nothing but kindness, respect, and love. Attentive, romantic, and very easy on the eyes, the more time he spent with the Alpha, the more he could imagine spending the rest of his life with him.

Of course, he was no fool, and though they were still relatively new to this relationship, he wasn’t going to let up yet, knowing the first year is usually when the prospective partner is always on their best behavior. Really it was six months, but he was being gracious since he liked him.

Y/N even brought him as his date to Bruce’s gala that was being held in his honor. A major deal had been made at Wayne Enterprises where they partnered with some of the biggest charities in the region to begin plans for creating homes and centers for Omegas who were victims of abusive homes and relationships as well as those who were saved from human trafficking.

At first, he was tempted to not go, but since he was being honored at the event for being the major showrunner for the entire project, it’d be rude for him not to show. Of course, Leo decided to make it a whole show and went out to rent a new tux as well as a limousine to take them to Wayne Manor where the event was being held.

To say Y/N felt like a prince being swept off his feet the entire night would have been an understatement. Not only was he impressed with Leo’s manners and dedication, but he also duly noted the Alpha’s restraint and control considering they hadn’t done the do yet, despite being almost half a year into their relationship.

And there were moments when they came close and the temptation was all too real. Contrary to the earlier joke, the Alpha and Omega did have more physical type dates, where they met in Leo’s gym and would practice different moves and fighting styles following both of their training.

As you can imagine when you bump and grind hot sweaty bodies against each other, at some point, things can get carried away at intervals, but Leo always pulled back, saying he wanted to respect Y/N’s decision and wait until they were both fully ready. Damn, having morals and respect for yourself can really take the fun out of things sometimes.

Anyway, the night went on without a hitch. Y/N mingled and greeted the guests as well as shook hands with a few important people Bruce wanted to introduce him to. He gave a speech and had a few more inside jokes with Leo about the stuffy and posh atmosphere these galas radiate.

Right when they were planning to make their exit, things of course had to get interesting.

“Evening, Y/N. Long time, no see. It’s good to see you.”

Y/N counted to five in his head, reminding himself where he was and that couldn’t introduce the back of his fist to Dick Grayson’s cheek, no matter how bad he wanted to. Their running into each other was inevitable, the Omega recognized that. Whether it was him who accidentally did it, or the billionaire’s son who intentionally did it, they were bound to run into each other again.

He remained civilized though. His mother always taught him how being an Omega in this world, people were going to try and push him more than any others just because they saw him as an easy target. She always said the moment you reacted, you proved them right, and he wasn’t going to let that happen. That didn’t mean he couldn’t be petty though…

“Dick, what a surprise. I’d say likewise, but you know how our Lord & Savior feels about lying,’ Y/N responded with a smile on his face but the sarcasm clearer than ever.

Leo chuckled to the side of him, and for a moment, a quick fleeing second, Dick’s cool and suave charade dropped, and Y/N saw how his attitude and lack of respect triggered the Alpha. The adopted Wayne managed to retain his instincts though, keeping a cool smile on his face.

“Ah, you’re funny. A lot funnier than I remember when we were in your office,” It was then Dick seemed to acknowledge the other presence standing before him, “And just who might this be? Your next conquest?” He inquired in a ‘joking’ manner.

That wasn’t appreciated, given the nasty grimace that wiped over Y/N’s face as he was about to respond with an equal if not more than childish insult. At least, until Leo decided to interject in.

“Actually, I’m his date. Though, I wouldn’t mind being a conquest if it came to that. It's better than showing up alone to an event like this with no one by my side. Speaking of, where’s your date?” Leo asked, an egotistical smile on his face as he stared down the other Alpha, already knowing the answer.

Dick looked more than aggravated, and despite his surprise at Leo’s snarkiness, it did not stop Y/N from laughing out loud, despite his failed attempts at concealing them. While the Omega would have loved to stand there a bit longer and see how interesting that encounter could have gotten, he knew better and decided that was a perfect time to make a strategic exit.

“Well, Dick, as much as I’d love to stay and chat, I wouldn’t. Enjoy the rest of your evening, Dick.” Y/N said, quickly grabbing Leo’s arm and tugging him towards the main entrance.

When they reached the main hall, Leo went to give their valet card to the attendant standing by the door, while Y/N informed him he was going to use the bathroom quickly before they left. Both of them were oblivious to the shadow following behind the Omega.

Y/N found the bathroom and quickly did his business, however, he did take a small moment while using the toilet to admire the decor and pristine state of the bathroom.

“Oh, to be filthy rich and pee in luxury.”

After flushing and washing his hands, he was drying them off and was about to head for the door when it suddenly swung open and a familiar face entered.

“Dick! What the hell you fucking perv! Have you ever heard of knocking, or did Bruce forget that in etiquette training?”

“Funny,” Dick replied, his usual lighthearted tone gone, replaced by something dark and vexing. Y/N didn’t understand why he felt a small flutter in his abdomen at the tone of voice, but he chose to ignore that in favor of getting past the creepy Alpha.

“Yeah, I’m hilarious. Open the door, Dick. I’m not playing these games with you,” Y/N ordered.

“Who said anything about playing,” Dick asked, but he apparently wasn’t looking for an answer if the way he grabbed the Omega by his suit jacket and threw him against the sink was anything to go by.

“What the fuck! Get off of me!” Y/N shouted, pushing against the Alpha’s chest, but his smaller state compared to the acrobat put him at a slight disadvantage. If the hard and prominent muscles he felt under the jacket were anything to go by, he’d say Dick spent a fair amount of time in the gym. Made sense though, given his former circus background.

“Oh, come on. You can quit the act now.” Dick huffed while rubbing his hands down the Omega’s body, stopping right at his waist.

“What act? Were you dropped on your head as a baby?” Y/N retorted, still pushing (groping) at the Alpha’s chest. He could feel Dick’s fingers prodding around his body, taking extra time to squeeze his ass before making their way further down his legs, lifting them and forcing them around the acrobat’s waist.

Dick’s smug look grew even more when he could see the Omega’s submissive instincts kicking in, feeling how less and less he was putting up a fight against his actions.

“This act. Look at you, slowly giving in and letting me take control of your body. I’ve dealt with plenty of bratty little Omegas like you. Playing the honorable and conservative role, only to give it up the second you get the attention you’ve been begging for. You almost had me fooled for a quick second. But, after seeing that sad excuse you brought here as a date, I realized your game immediately. I’ll admit it though, you managed to get what you wanted. I’ve never been as jealous before as I was watching you with him all night.”

While saying all this to Y/N, Dick had wrapped one of his arms around the Omega’s waist forcing his body forward on the marble sink and pushing his own against it. His hard and throbbing member was positioned at an angle in the Alpha’s trousers where the smaller male could almost make out the entire length and size of the throbbing tool, the way it was being ground against his pelvis.

That combined with the adopted Wayne’s ever-talented lips sucking and kissing at the Omega’s neck while sniffing the boy’s pheromones and cologne left a fog in Y/N’s mind that was hard to see past. No longer was he fighting back against Dick, but instead he was mindlessly rubbing and digging his fingers into the hard muscles of his chest and abs covered by his white dress shirt, something the Alpha held a smug satisfaction in.

“Oh, would you look at that? What happened to your high and mighty attitude? I thought you weren’t attracted to demanding and ‘barbaric’ Alphas like me? For the amount of crap you’ve talked, I figured you’d have more restraint than that.” Dick’s mocking words were a bit in cruel taste, but it was a taste Y/N couldn’t decide if he liked or not.

His smug attitude and confidence were attractive to the Omega, given the pleasurable tingles he could feel inside his underwear which were slowly getting wetter by the second. But, that was the very thing that confused him.

Y/N couldn’t count how many times he heard this similar or exact sentiment from another overly confident Alpha who felt entitled to his attention and body. So, why was he having different thoughts and reactions now? Was there something in the air? Did he recently start taking some new vitamin or pill that had psychosis-like side effects? Did someone cast a spell on him?

Or was Y/N genuinely attracted and turned on by Dick Grayson and was just too stubborn to realize every word the Alpha was saying was true. He’d rather not think about that.

Small moans and grunts began to slip out of Y/N’s mouth while feeling the increased kisses and marks being left across his neck and jaw. With his legs spread and Dick in between, there was nothing left to the imagination of what he felt grinding against his pelvis.

When his noises were beginning to reach a volume level that could bring unwanted attention to the Alpha, he had no choice but to remove one of his hands from the delectable body he was ravishing to cover the Omega’s mouth. It was okay for now, he’d have him screaming in no time.

“Oh, Y/N. You’re so perfect. Why do you have to act so stuck up though? Just look at you right now,” Dick muttered against the Omega’s skin before looking up.

It was a sight to behold, seeing the same man responsible for fighting against the system that held Omegas down in the first place being subjected to the same treatment he claimed to hate, and enjoying it at that.

“And to think, we could've been doing this very same thing in your office if you weren’t acting so stuck up.”

Dick’s feverish kisses and bites increased as his hand forced open Y/N’s shirt, exposing his shiny, leaking nipples to the Alpha. He smirked at the Omega’s whimper from feeling the cool air in the bathroom rush against his wet nipples before moving his lips down and attaching them to one of the nubs.

The yelp Y/N let out under Dick’s hand was enough to have the Alpha pausing in his ministrations, making sure no one came knocking on the door before continuing his feeding on the Omega’s nectar. His other hand that wasn’t muffling the moans and cries of the Omega was working its way down the front of the smaller man’s past, just getting past the elastic band of his underwear.

Y/N’s eyes went wide when he felt Dick's cool fingers prodding around at the top of his arousal, just tugging at his cocklette which he knew was probably leaking slick along with this cunt. He did his best to resist the sensations, but even he had to admit the man was skilled.

His eyes began scanning around the room, trying his best not to get distracted by the hot sight of Dick’s dark head of hair lapping and sucking at his chest like a newborn while he felt his pleasure nub and cocklette being fondled under his underwear. That’s when he spotted something of interest.

Sitting right beside his body was a candle, and more importantly, the heavy looking golden holder it was sitting in. It was a bit hard at first with the distractions he was dealing with, but he managed to get the candle out and holder into his grip, using it to bash the side of Dick’s head.

He shouted out in pain, leaning back just enough for Y/N to shove his body forward before swinging his leg right into Dick’s exposed crotch. The dark-haired man groaned in pain, falling over on his knees while clutching his bruised genitals, looking up to the Omega who scooted himself off the counter, taking a moment to collect himself before cleaning himself up and fixing his clothes.

“Still playing hard to get, I see,” Dick uttered.

Y/N turned around, throwing a dirty look toward the Alpha on the floor before turning his nose up at him in a sneer, “You wish I was playing with you at all.”

“True, but it’s okay for now. I’ll have you begging for me soon enough,” Dick chuckled, before groaning again from another painful throb.

Y/N tried to ignore the flutter he felt in his pants and the surge of feelings he felt in his chest. He gave Dick one last glare, before exiting the bathroom, promptly finding Leo and leaving the party. On his way out though, he ran into Bruce who looked concerned at the Omega’s disheveled and angry state.

“Ask your son,” He retorted, grabbing his valet ticket out of his jacket before looking up at the CEO, a storm of emotion and thoughts behind his eyes, “Mr. Wayne, it’s been a pleasure working for W.E., and I’m very happy to see the progress we’ve been able to make in my time at the company. But, after tonight, I think it’s best if I move on to other opportunities. I’ll be sending someone to collect my things from my office.”

With that, Y/N grabbed Leo’s hand and exited the party and Wayne Manor, hopefully for the last time.

That night, the Omega was extra brutal on his patrol, taking out his anger and confusion on every bloody criminal and thug Alpha who even looked like they were up to no good. By the end of the night, Y/N was going to have to ask his contacts for some new gloves with how dirty and covered in blood they were.

As the weeks rolled by, Y/N received numerous emails and calls from Bruce Wayne asking him to come back to the company and if they could work something out. Even Wyndall had reached out to see what was going on with him.

The only person he Y/N talked to about all of this was Leo. He did tell him what went down in the bathroom, and that he just needed some time to sort out his head. The Alpha respected his wishes and still checked in on him every other day just to make sure he was okay.

The thing was, Y/N didn’t really know if he was okay. He felt like he was going crazy.

On one hand, he was very angry and upset still about the bathroom incident and just the situation overall. He couldn’t believe the nerve of Dick, thinking he could just bust his way into the room and into his life and just have his way with him. It was unbelievably arrogant and barbaric.

On the OTHER hand, it was the barbarism of the situation that had Y/N so confused. More specifically, why he was so attracted to it. The truth was, Dick pointed out some significant stuff in that bathroom that had the Omega overthinking everything.

Why was he attracted to it, and why didn’t he fight Dick off harder. He could’ve taken him and avoided that whole situation, but he didn’t. Why?

That was the question that kept pounding in his head over and over for weeks on end. One part of him wanted nothing to do with Dick Grayson, but the other part wanted everything to do with him. Wanted to give in and submit to the Alpha.

But, he had to be a symbol. And he couldn’t do that if he gave in to the very thing he was fighting against.

Though, little did he know that soon, he wouldn’t have much of a choice.

Even if his Alpha troubles had gone quiet in his civilian life, his vigilante one was another story. Shadow was plagued by countless run-ins with Nightwing who was persistent in his endeavors of trying to corner him. That or he wanted another chance to throw some cheesy one-liners at him, probably both. Thankfully, Y/N managed to stay a step ahead every single time and always managed to avoid his capture.

At least that’s what he thought.

Things would take a major turn when Shadow decided to answer a distress call coming from Wayne Towers. An Omega claimed they were being harassed and stalked by an Alpha who locked them in the building.

Since it was his old stomping grounds, and he knew plenty of ways in and out of the building, he figured it’d be a quick mission. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary on the outside, but for some reason, the hairs on the back of his neck were standing, but he still decided to go in.

The first thing he noticed when he got inside was how quiet the building was, almost too quiet. He’d worked plenty of late shifts in this building before and the silence was never this loud. Where were the nighttime guards? Or the other executives who inevitably stayed late to work?

Something weird was going on. Y/N made his way to the top of the building, closer to Bruce’s office where he heard the Omega say he was hiding over the police line he tapped into. As he approached closer to the hiding spot, he couldn’t help how tense he grew, feeling the ever-growing sensation of being watched take over him.

When Y/N finally made it to Bruce’s office, he was more or less shocked at who he found waiting for him.

“Wyndall?”

The Omega looked up, confused at first but then suddenly shouting out only to be muffled by the gag around his mouth. His hands and feet were bound by rope and he was tucked into the corner. Y/N was about to make his way over until he realized Wyndall was looking at something behind him and not at him.

He turned just in time to see a flash of blue and black lunge at him before ducking out of the way in time, “Nightwing,” The Omega growled under his breath.

“Good to finally see you again, Shadow. Well, at least all of you since I’m only used to seeing the far-distant view of your back as you run away from me. Though, it’s definitely not a sight I’m complaining about.” Nightwing said, his usual playful smirk on his face as he once again eyed the Omega vigilante up and down like their first meeting.

“Attacking innocent Omegas just to get to me, why am I not surprised? Is Batman that mad at me?”

“Who said anything about Batman? Maybe I just wanted the chance to finish our conversation from before. And you say attacking, I say leveraging advantages.”

The Omega looked from Nightwing to Wyndall who was watching the exchange while still struggling to get out of his binds. “Well, hate to burst your bubble, but I’m not in much of a talking mood,” Shadow said before grabbing one of his blades and throwing it at the other vigilante.

Nightwing managed to duck but was unprepared for the attacks he received. Using the surprise to his advantage, Shadow landed quick blows along the other vigilante’s chest and legs before sweeping under him and knocking him to the ground.

When Nightwing didn’t immediately get up, the Omega rushed over to Wyndall, using his blades to cut the ropes and gag, “Thank you,” Wyndall began to say, before both of them turned to see the other vigilante not where Shadow left him.

“No time for that, just grab your stuff and let’s go,” Shadow ordered, getting the Omega off the ground and both of them making a break for the stairs.

Just as Wyndall made it to the exit and Shadow right behind him, neither of them saw Nightwing dart out of the shadows, surprising the Omega vigilante before being tackled to the ground.

“Where do you think you’re going? We’re not finished talking,” The Alpha growled in the smaller man’s face, doing his best to keep the Omega pinned.

Thankfully for the Alpha, the Omega was distracted by Wyndall coming back to try and help him, “No, Wyndall! Just go. Get out of here!”

“But-”

“I said GO!”

He stood there for a few moments contemplating, before turning around and heading down the stairs. Nightwing smirked down at the Omega, using his strength to overpower him and pin his arms down.

“Alone at last,” Nightwing smiled before leaning down and claiming Shadow’s lips in a soft, but demanding kiss. The Omega could feel a familiar sensation sparking in his pants and certain feelings swirling in his gut.

Though, it didn’t mean he was giving up, doing his best to wiggle his leg putting as much momentum as he could into his knee as he shoved into the Alpha’s crotch. His eyes went wide as he let out a muffled grunt before breaking the kiss and letting his face fall into the side of the Omega’s neck.

But his grip didn’t loosen at all nor did his strength waver over the Omega as he tried to push back to free himself, and that’s when he heard the chuckle beside his ear.

“Sorry, but I’ve learned from your tricks before.”

Nightwing leaned off the Omega, but not enough for him to escape. Only enough to where he could flip him around on the floor, bringing his arms and hands behind his back before grabbing some more binding rope off his utility belt.

He tied both arms and legs together, grabbing his shadowblades off his waist and attaching them to his belt. When he had him secured, he turned the Omega back over and lifted him off the ground, holding him steady while taking a moment to admire his captured prize.

“All that running and fighting, and look at you know, finally caught in my grasp.”

“So what, you’re gonna take me to Batman now?”

Nightwing chuckled again, “Hmm, still haven’t figured it out yet. I told you, this isn’t about Batman. This is about you and me. It’s about finally taking what rightfully belongs to me.”

The Alpha leaned down to grab the Omega around his thighs before throwing him up in a fire-man carry and making his way down the hall. Y/N watched from his place atop the Alpha’s shoulder as they traveled through the dark and quiet halls. Eyeing the various security cameras positioned throughout the hall and noting that they were all missing the usual red light that indicated they were on and watching.

‘Did Nightwing manage to cut the cameras?’ Y/N thought to himself as they made their way down another hall, a familiar one at that as he realized they were getting close to his old office.

It was then that Y/N started thinking about various things. How Nightwing seemed to predict his move of kneeing him in the crotch as a last resort since he was apparently wearing some protective garment that kept his genitals safe. Then again, why wouldn’t he being a vigilante?

But, the comment he made seemed as if he expected it. Then, there was the fact that out of all the people Nightwing chose to attack in Wayne Towers, he chose Wyndall, one of Y/N's few friends at the company from this time working here.

And while he’d rather not think about it, that kiss they shared was just as pleasurable as it was familiar. Things were starting to slowly come together for the Omega. It was becoming somewhat clear that Nightwing knew he was, especially given the fact that he was right about his earlier hunch.

They were heading for his old office.

Y/N recognized the hall the moment they turned down the corner, before they made their way through the familiar glass door, Nightwing pausing in the middle of the room while looking at the city through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

“Hmm, feels just like the first time, only the view I have is much better than yours,” The Alpha gloated before using his other hand that wasn’t holding the Omega’s thighs together to land a harsh spank on the plump ass next to his face.

“Ouch, you fucking asshole,” Shadow yelled, before yelping out again in pain as he was subjected to even more brutal and harsher slaps.

Imagine how he felt in the moment, the Omega Vigilante tasked with saving his kind from brutish behavior, getting spanked over the shoulder of the Alpha who’d relentlessly pursued him for months. Only now, he knew that this Alpha was not different from the one that had been pursuing him in his civilian life as well.

“Alright, Dick! That’s enough.” He shouted, still flailing over the Alpha’s shoulder from the sting in his ass as he tried to hold back the tears that were brewing in his eyes.

The Omega suddenly found himself back on the ground, standing on his two feet but being held by the Alpha at the waist. He did his best to not scoff at the arrogant smirk on the vigilante’s face as he looked down at him with a knowing look.

“Oh, finally put the pieces together, have you?” Dick asked.

“You didn’t make it hard with your not-so-clever hints and cliché remarks.”

“Careful,” Dick warned, squeezing the tender behind while laying a hand over his growing arousal, “Before when I gave you the chance to submit to me willingly, you refused and defied me every single time, always with that smart and condescending attitude of yours. I was forgiving then, but not so much now. And I don’t have to be.”

Y/N didn’t know why, but that same feeling he had before in the bathroom, that ever-growing curiosity, had him wanting to bite back. To test the Alpha and see how far he would go. He didn’t understand why he was actively fighting to get out of the situation he was in.

Frankly, he didn’t care about any of that. Right now, at this moment, he couldn’t remember or think of why he cared about being a symbol so much.

All he cared about was wanting to get fucked.

“Hmm, well, maybe if you had been someone worthy of submitting to, I actually would have listened and given in. Even now, I still don’t see someone deserving of my attention, let alone my body.” Y/N remarked, his own smirk pulling at his lips.

The look in Dick’s eyes was something menacing. It was as if the curtains that were obscuring who the Alpha really was were suddenly going up in flames, and now, the real show was about to begin.

“Oh, you want someone worthy, huh? I’ll give you someone worthy.” Dick uttered, a darkness to his words before he forced Y/N onto his knees.

He undid the clasps of his utility belt before undoing the secret zippers at his crotch, reaching inside and pulling out a sizable tool. Definitely not small, but not too big that would have Y/N clenching. But, appearances could be deceiving. After all, Dick was just as much known as a playboy as his adoptive father.

“How about we fill that mouth with something more worthy, huh?”

He barely gave the Omega any time to comply, using his hand to grip the smaller male’s jaw and force his mouth open, using his other hand to shove his hard appendage inside and down his throat. Y/N choked and gagged over the organ, saliva already drooling out around his lips and tears building in his eyes as the Alpha let out a guttural groan, gripping his hair now and holding him against his pubes.

“That worthy enough for ya?” Dick growled out, jerking himself forward causing another round of chokes and gags and reveling in the sound of them, “Finally, after all that time, waiting around and watching you ignore me and toss me aside, look where you are now. Crying over my dick.”

Y/N couldn’t even use his hands to try and push back at Dick’s hips, seeing as they were still bound behind his back.

Eventually, the Alpha pulled himself out, chuckling at the sounds of the Omega gasping for air and coughing. “Enjoy this little break, it’s gonna be one of the few you get all night,” Dick taunted, yanking on Y/N’s hair again before shoving himself back down his throat.

He kept the Omega like that for another minute, seeing how long he could go before giving him a slight breather for air. When he had enough of that, he slowly began to move in and out of his throat, watching with sinful pleasure at the teary-eyed look the Omega was looking up at him with as his veiny appendage slid in and out of his mouth, a glistening shine come off it from his salvia and the light of the moon through the window.

Eventually, Dick was ruthlessly shoving himself in and out of Y/N’s lips, barely giving him any breaks or breathers as he claimed the Omega’s throat for himself. This was only the first of his many victories that he would achieve tonight. His patience and planning would finally reward him, especially with the insurance he set up for himself, as he eyed the hidden camera tucked away on a shelf in the corner of the room.

Y/N had no choice but to learn how to breathe through his nose to get the much-needed air he required as Dick had his way with his throat. His mouth was covered in spit and drool while his eyes and cheeks were soaked with his tears. When Dick pulled himself out for the last time, he took a sharp breath in, falling forward slightly as he also released the grip on his hair.

“n-nh ... ah … fuck,” The Omega breathed before feeling himself be yanked back up to his feet and pulled towards the desk.

“I’m not done with you yet, slut.”

With one sweeping motion, he knocked everything to the ground before forcing the Omega against the desk and bending him over it. He made quick work of the utility belt before unbuckling and unzipping wherever he had to, pulling down his pants and revealing his wet cunt to him.

“Oh, look at that, even prettier than I imagined,” Dick looked over the panting Omega, taking pride in the fact that this was all his doing before taking a finger and rubbing it over the wet fold and leaking head of his cocklette, “What do you think, Y/N? Should I go slow? Give you time to adjust and widen up for me? Or should I just take you like this? Since I’m apparently not worthy enough?” He asked with a leering sneer.

“please ...a-ah, fuck ... !” Y/N moaned, feeling Dick’s fingers slip inside his heat while his thumb rubbed rough circles over his cocklette and nub.

“Aw, look at that. Told you I’d have you begging for me soon enough,” He said, forcing his fingers inside him a little more before taking them back out, “That’s enough of that. Time’s up, slut. Now, I finally claim what’s rightfully mine.”

Dick turned Y/N over, removing the rope at his ankles before pushing the smaller male further up on the desk, slotting himself between the open legs. He took a moment to admire the sight before him while slapping his dick against the Omega’s dripping entrance.

“After all that time, all that fighting back and acting like you didn’t want me. Look at you here now, helpless, about to have your body claimed by your rightful Alpha. And to think, we could’ve been doing this so long ago. You and me, Nightwing & Shadow, patrolling the streets of Gotham together, but you decided to be a little bitch about everything and resist me at every turn. Well, now, you’ve got nowhere to go. You’re all mine, and I won’t be letting you go anytime soon. Not now, not tonight or tomorrow, and especially, not after this…”

Dick gripped his appendage while holding Y/N at the center of his stomach, sinking himself inside the wet heat with a deep and vocal groan. The Omega shouted out at the brute and forceful intrusion before feeling a hand slap over his mouth.

“Quiet, slut. I may have knocked the guards out, but we still want you alerting anyone else now, do we?”

Dick held his hand firm against the Omega’s mouth while savoring the feeling of the tight flesh wrapped all around his cock. He had sex with many people before, Omegas and Betas alike, but none of them compared to the feeling he had right at that moment.

A few moments went by, Y/N’s vocal but muffled cries slowly quieting as Dick does his best to calm himself down as well before taking his first move inside the soft and tight cunt. Another whine pops up from the Omega, feeling the drag and pull of the hard cock in his insides.

“Quiet baby, I’m trying to focus on not cumming here, and your little sweet sounds aren’t helping,” Dick ordered, taking his time to slowly move himself in and out while fighting down his growing climax. He knew they would have multiple rounds, but there was nothing like the euphoric feeling of claiming your prize. Conquering the very thing that fought so hard against you.

And, now, his reward lay helpless beneath him. Subject to whatever treatment and punishment the Alpha saw fit. Dick knew it, and he could see Y/N was realizing the way he squirmed around on the desk trying to adjust themselves to being owned and taken by someone worthy.

When Dick made his first full thrust inside, the tears sprang to Y/N’s eyes again as he tried to scoot himself up on the desk away from the intrusive weapon spearing his guts.

“Uh uh, baby,” Dick said, holding him by one of his legs as he forced the Omega still on his cock, “there’s no running from this. You’ve got no choice. You’re tied up and helpless, and you’re going to take my cock whether you like it or not.”

And take it, he did.

Once Dick got himself under control and didn’t feel like he would cum too soon, he mercilessly fucked the Omega with no tone of softness or tenderness in his movements. His cries under the Alpha’s palms never ceased, seemingly only increasing in volume as neared closer and closer to his own orgasm.

Above him, Dick groaned and grunted like an animal while plowing his insides, his other palm was busy squeezing roughly at the whiny little cocklette and rubbing furiously over his little pinch of nerves. The evidence of their filthy fun was becoming increasingly more potent as the slick around his cock combined with the soaking and squelching walls of the cunt he was defiling dripped and splashed onto the floor and around the edges of the desk.

“This is all your fault, you know,” Dick spat, the sweat evident on his body as his hair stuck to his face and the top parts of his mask, “if you had just listened to me and been obedient, our first time could have been gentler and more romantic. But, you wanted to be a stubborn little brat who defied his Alpha, and now you’re paying the price.”

Dick delivered powerful and harsher thrusts to Y/N’s core, pulling even louder sounds from his throat as his arms tingled with sleep from being pressed between his body and the shaking wooden desk.

“Oh fuck, you’re squeezing me even tighter than you were before. Are you trying to make me cum, slut?” Dick asked, eyeing his Omega with lust and focus as he drilled even harder into his insides. “Still think I’m not worthy, huh? Still think someone else is more deserving of your body, Y/N? I bet you no one else can have you wet and screaming like this. I can feel the vibrations from all your moaning and whines under my palm. No one can make you feel like I can. No one can fuck you like I can! No one can own you like I can.”

Somehow, Dick began to go even faster, tears now flowing at a fast rate out of Y/N’s eyes as he met his explosive end over the Alpha’s cock. The vigilante leaned over the Omega’s body as his knot slowly approached.

“Get ready for it, slut. And feel lucky you’re not in heat yet, but soon, you will be. And soon, you’ll be carrying my kids.” Nightwing said as he pushed himself deeper and deeper inside before meeting his end.

He leaned down and bit into your neck with a vocal growl as he buried himself all the way inside, knotting his Omega for the first time. His body convulsed with shudders and shakes as he felt himself shooting his seed deep inside, Y/N feeling the streaks paint his insides.

Both their breaths slowly returned to normal as they waited for his knot to do down, and when Dick felt like he had enough strength, he held himself up, taking his hand away from the Omega’s mouth before looking at him in his post-orgasmic state.

“You were amazing, baby. I’m sorry I had to be so rough with you, but you gave me no choice. But, don’t worry, it won’t be the last time. We should get you home so I can show you how an Alpha properly treats his Omega.”

Y/N could barely form a thought, let alone a sentence, and he didn’t have any time to try and think of one as Dick pulled himself off and out of him. He reclothed both of them before tying the Omega’s legs back together and tossing him back over his shoulder.

“You’re all mine now, baby. Nightwing & Shadow forever,” Dick said to himself while grabbing the camera off the shelf, stopping the recording before exiting the office and heading down towards the parking garage where he planned to take you both home.

To be continued…

☀️ | Dick Grayson/Nightwing | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

🌙 | Part Two | 🌙

🌃 | Nightwing & Shadow | 🌃 (this image was genrated by Bing AI)

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hunn1e-bunn1e · 4 months ago

Text

Did I randomly make a WHB and Obey Me oc? Yes, yes I did. Why? I have no idea, but here he is.

(Yes, it's a picrew, I could not be bothered to roll out my art skills from the attic. Considering his personality, he can fit into either fandom, and I was too lazy to make another one, so deal with it.)

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

𝖀𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖑 - Archangel of Wisdom and Jubilation

𖤓𝕽𝖔𝖑𝖊𖤓

Uriel was created to fill the role of spreading knowledge, wisdom and joy to humankind, though, after the disappearance of God/ the war in the Celestial Realm, he became bitter toward humankind and the demons.

𖤓𝕬𝖑𝖑𝖊𝖌𝖎𝖊𝖓𝖈𝖊𖤓

While Uriel's allegiance will always lie with his beloved creator, he answers directly to the seraph Raphael, at his beck and call no matter the location or the situation he was summoned in. So long as it is his beloved God's will, Uriel will follow Raphael even into certain death.

𖤓𝕬𝖌𝖊𖤓

Uriel was the fourth archangel to be created by god; in other words, he is exceptionally ancient.

𖤓𝕯𝖎𝖘𝖕𝖔𝖘𝖎𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𖤓

At first glance, Uriel comes off as a kind-hearted and easygoing angel, however, he is an especially cruel individual. While he always sports a soft, almost fatherly smile, he can say the most audacious and ignorant things. He treats demons, humans, and in some cases even some lesser angels as if they don't have the capacity to think. Being the archangel of knowledge is something that he uses to his advantage to gain the upper hand in conversations, although, he has a tendency to gain interest in those who have knowledge of things he does not. However, depending on how knowledgeable that person is, Uriel's interest may cross over into a sexual interest or even an obsession.

𖤓𝕸𝖆𝖓𝖓𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖘𝖒𝖘𖤓

Uriel's habits include harshly tugging on locks of hair when he's stressed, clasping his hands in a prayer hold when he's at rest, and biting his knuckles when he's focused.

𖤓𝕬𝖛𝖔𝖈𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖘𖤓

Reading by candlelight, discovering and experimenting with hair care products, gardening, praying, admiring Raphael, praising Raphael, and playing the harp.

𖤓𝕭𝖊𝖑𝖎𝖊𝖋𝖘𖤓

Uriel believes that, because he is an angel, he is above all other instances of life that do not originate from heaven/the celestial realm. In his eyes, all life that is not angelic is an eyesore and deserves to be wiped from existence as Raphael had said to him once before.

𖤓𝕬𝖘𝖘𝖔𝖈𝖎𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖘𖤓

(Obey Me!)

God: As god is Uriel's creator, he loves and reveres him with every fiber of his being, and although the two hardly have any one-on-one interaction, Uriel will do anything asked of him by his loving creator.

Raphael: Because God personally assigned Uriel to work under Raphael, Uriel feels that he has a much closer relationship with him compared to the rest of his superiors. Raphael's cold demeanor upon their first meeting was misinterpreted by Uriel as the seraph looking down on him for his lack of knowledge, thus starting his deep infatuation with Raphael.

Simeon: Uriel has had a deep connection with Simeon since the two met, despite their very differing temperament and views on certain topics. Uriel once stated that he would trust Simeon with helping the next archangel of knowledge should he ever die for any reason.

Luke: Despite Luke being a lesser angel, Uriel respects the young angel for his closeness to Michael.

Lucifer: Even though Lucifer fell from grace, Uriel can't help but respect and even yearn for him. The seraph of humility and arguably the most beautiful angel in the celestial realm (after Raphael, of course); Lucifer was Uriel's role model.

Satan: Despite hating each other's guts, both Uriel and Satan never miss a meeting for their weekly book club. The two talk for hours; having well thought and in depth discussions about the book of the week. It would be a nice image if you ignored the very obvious passive aggression and down right rancid aura that seems to radiat from the two.

Asmodeus: Uriel often admires Asmodeus for his beauty, although, he's not as beautiful as Raphael, of course. But he is still a rose in a garden of weeds in the end.

Barbatos: While he certainly doesn't like the fact that he's a demon, Uriel can't help but admire Barbatos' dedication to fulfilling his duty as the prince's steward. The man's patience seems to stretch on forever.

Diavolo: Uriel despises Diavolo because he has Lucifer under his thumb. Despite what Lucifer tells him of the prince's kindness and empathy, he just can't bring himself to see the good in Diavolo.

Solomon: Solomon always avoids conversation with uriel after their introduction for some reason, but Uriel still tries to speak with him anyway, he knows that Solomon must definitely have information that Uriel has little knowledge of and he's desperate to learn.

MC: Uriel considers them to be more of a pet or a wandering stray animal than anything else; seeing no real value in them as they are a human. (WHB?)

God: As god is Uriel's creator, he loves and reveres him with every fiber of his being, and although the two hardly had any one-on-one interaction, Uriel will do anything perceived as the will of his loving creator.

Michael: As he holds the title of the Chief Angel, Uriel holds deep respect and admiration for him and will follow his orders without question, as he believes that out of all angels, Michael is the closest to God, so his decisions must be by God's will even in his absence. The only reason Uriel would refuse an order from Michael is if it clashed with an order that he received from Raphael.

Gabriel: Because of his status as a seraph, Uriel holds deep respect for admiration for him.

Zeruel: Before they began their raid on "Hell" and even after that, Uriel would occasionally hitch a ride on Zeruel's back or shoulders. Usually, shoving some other angel off so that he could take his preferred spot, Zeruel never seemed to mind though.

Barachiel: As a fellow angel of joy, Uriel and Barachiel get along very well, with the cherub often following him into battle and listening to his rants about why Raphael is logically superior to Gabriel.

Lucifer: Even though Lucifer fell from grace, Uriel can't help but respect and even yearn for him. The seraph of humility and arguably the most beautiful angel in the heavens (after Raphael, of course); Lucifer was Uriel's role model.

Leviathan: Uriel has a deep hatred for the Demon King Leviathan for the simple reason that the demon makes him feel insecure about his looks.

Gusion: After overhearing conversations between many demons in passing about how intelligent Gusion is and after encountering him on the battlefield, he became flustered by his smarts and ended up letting the demon live by accident.

MC: He regards all humans as dogs (because he hates them) or pests. Uriel has only met them once, but he tried to bring them back to Raphael, only to be stopped by a feral Satan.

𖤓𝕮𝖔𝖒𝖇𝖆𝖙 𝕱𝖚𝖓𝖈𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𖤓

Ranged Sniper; he fires his loose feathers at unfathomable speeds toward his target, usually only bothering to finish off those already weakened by his comrades. Uriel is actually very proficient with a spear and could've been on the front lines, but due to his aversion to being covered in the blood of demons, chose to be a ranged unit instead.

𖤓𝕻𝖗𝖔𝖋𝖎𝖈𝖎𝖊𝖓𝖈𝖎𝖊𝖘𖤓

Expert spearmanship, patient and versatile teaching, easily adapts on the go, expertise with string instruments, and eidetic memory.

𖤓𝕻𝖗𝖊𝖋𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖈𝖊𝖘𖤓

God and Angels (the three seraphim specifically (especially Raphael)), learning, instructing others, reading by candlelight, admiring Raphael, receiving orders from Raphael, praising God, and taking care of his hair.

𖤓𝕽𝖊𝖕𝖚𝖑𝖘𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖘𖤓

Non-angelic beings (obviously), getting his angelic robes dirty, unintelligent individuals, sweet foods, poorly taken care of books, "Hell", The Devildom, and the Human Realm.

𖤓𝕻𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖕𝖍𝖎𝖑𝖎𝖆𖤓

Sophophilia: sexual gratification from the act of gaining knowledge or learning. This is displayed both when Uriel meets Raphael for the first time and is enraptured by his knowledge of God's will, leading him to need to leave due to becoming physically excited, and when he encounters the demon Gusion and is drawn in by his intelligent aura.

𖤓𝕿𝖗𝖔𝖚𝖇𝖑𝖊𝖘𖤓

The Demon King Leviathan's hair appears much more silky and luxurious than his own, he was chosen to go down to The Devildom with Raphael (although it was Raphael who suggested he go, so he can't really complain.), and his feathers have begun to loosen due to the stress of being surrounded by idiots.

𖤓𝕻𝖍𝖔𝖇𝖎𝖆𝖘𖤓

Athazagoraphobia: the intense or irrational fear of being forgotten, or of forgetting someone or something. Atychiphobia: the intense or irrational fear of failure.

𖤓𝕸𝖔𝖗𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖙𝖞𖤓

Uriel doesn't particularly care whether his actions are viewed as 'good' or 'bad by anyone but the three seraphim and God. Thus, he'll usually center his moral compass around theirs instead of having his own.

𖤓𝕮𝖚𝖗𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖙 𝕽𝖊𝖘𝖎𝖉𝖊𝖓𝖈𝖞𖤓

(OM!) Purgatory Hall in the Devildom/(WHB?) Nomadic movements through hell while slaying demons and following behind the seraph Raphael.

𖤓𝕬𝖗𝖙𝖎𝖋𝖆𝖈𝖙𖤓

Suspiciously Stained Book: The book that Uriel is often seen carrying around and reading in his free time. It is thought to be a personal copy of the Bible, but what is actually inside is still unknown. It's rumored that one time an angel was able to take a peak inside while uriel had it open and saw a bunch of drawings and diagrams of things they dare not speak of. But hey, do you see that on the cover there? Those suspicious white-ish stains, I wonder where they're from.

𖤓𝕱𝖚𝖓 𝕱𝖆𝖈𝖙𝖘𖤓

☁︎ Uriel does not like animals, especially those with fur. The only ones that he can stand are birds.

☁︎ Even though he won't admit it, Uriel considers (OM!) Lucifer, (OM!) Satan, (OM!) Barbatos, (OM!) Solomon, and (WHB?) Gusion as potential sexual partners and love interests.

☁︎ Although Lucifer fell from grace so long ago, Uriel still has a deeply ingrained respect for him, so much so that he still calls him 'Sir Lucifer' like he used to back then.

☁︎ Uriel has been banned from the Great Archive of the Heavens many times due to how often he gets off when reading books he hadn't read previously. The lesser angels assigned to cleaning the archive had complained about the stains and wet patches he kept leaving in the seats he occupied.

☁︎ Uriel and Simeon have been friends since Simeon's creation; with Uriel being present when the younger angel first opened his eyes.

☁︎ Uriel had always wanted to meet (WHB?)Solomon, but never got the chance to as he was too busy fulfilling the duties assigned to him by God through (WHB?)Raphael.

☁︎ When he and (OM!)Raphael first arrived at Purgatory Hall, Uriel insisted that the two share a room instead of having individual ones, thankfully for him, (OM!)Raphael agreed.

☁︎ Uriel finds himself more attracted to a person with status than a person with strength, but he still prefers smarts over status.

☁︎ Uriel absolutely can't stand sweet foods, he prefers his meals to be on the more bitter side, favoring fruits that make his jaw ache with its sour taste.

☁︎ One day, Uriel would like to try his hand at pottery.

𖤓𝖁𝖎𝖔𝖈𝖊 𝕷𝖎𝖓𝖊𝖘𖤓

(Obey Me!)

Event Reminder: "An event has arrived, come back immediately, I've no time for those who dawdle."

Inactive 1: "You do know that it's considered rude to ignore someone, don't you?."

Inactive 2: "I-it is not as if I'm worried for you, but hurry back, we still have much to speak about."

You're Back 1: "Welcome back, it certainly took you long enough."

You're Back 2: "Hm? Oh, you've returned. What? Did you want me to congratulate you?"

I'm Back 1: "Haaah... I must apologize for being away so long, Simeon can certainly talk when it comes to the old days. Anyhow, let us continue our previous discussion."

I'm Back 2: "I've returned! Ahem- Now, what were you saying before? About those human social trends?"

Morning: "In the heavens, the sun has risen; I must say you surprised me, I was sure that you were of those simpletons who stayed in bed all day."

Afternoon: "Good afternoon, I do hope you've been spending the day more productively."

Evening: "Ah yes, the evening time is the best in the day. Sitting curled up with a book and reading by the candlelight.~ Don't you agree?"

Night: "You're still awake? Do you not value sleep at all? Tsk- Off to bed with you, little mortal. Weak beings like yourself need such simple things to survive, didn't you know?"

Touch 1: "Filthy demo- DAH! You-! Oh, it's you, little mortal. You caught me off guard just now. Did you need something?"

Touch 2: "Hmm~ Simeon did not embellish at all, you are indeed quite good with your hands. What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

Touch 3: "Tch-! Do you not know how to keep your hands to yourself? Do mortals not know the concept of personal space?"

Skill 1: "Hah! Perish you ingrate!"

Skill 2: "It is my time to shine!"

Skill 3: "Feast your eyes on the power of knowledge!"

Majolish 1: "No need to say anything, I know mortal minds are unable to comprehend the beauty of angels."

Majolish 2: "Are you done gawking? Good, now go find me some accessories to make these rags look presentable."

Anniversary: "It would seem that you've had the fortune of knowing me for an entire earthen year, you must feel proud of yourself, as you should." (What in "Hell" is Bad?)

Lobby Touch 1: "You... What are you doing?"

Lobby Touch 2: "WHERE ARE YOU LOOKING! O-only-- only Sir Raphael is allowed to look at me in such a way!"

Lobby Touch 3: "I won't say it is envy, but I do wish that you were not marked as JUST food for the seraphim, then I could dine upon you with the one I admire.~"

Lobby Touch 4: "GAH! I‐is that a d‐dog? It's– it's disgusting! G‐get away, you little beast! Shoo! N‐no! Don't come any closer! Help! Sir Raphael, save me!

Lobby Touch 5: "You think yourself an intelligent person, do you? Hah! As if some mortal fool would be on the same level of intelligence as an angelic being like myself."

Lobby Touch 6: "Remember to smile~!"

First Encounter: "Hm~? My, My, if it isn't the child of Solomon, Sir Raphael will definitely praise me if I bring you back to him!"

Level Up: "I feel almost as if I've gotten smarter..."

Evolve: "Maybe my capacity for knowledge has grown as well?~𔓘"

Ultimate Skill: "Allow me to teach you the true feeling of despair!"

Upon Death: "S-sir Raphael... please... don't forget me..."

Victory 1: "Hmph, you simpletons never stood a chance."

Victory 2: "Sir Raphael... Did you see that just now?"

Defeat: "Damn you, filthy devil scum! How dare you embarrass me in front of Sir Raphael!"

𖤓𝕳𝖆𝖑𝖔𖤓

Uriel's halo features either a large sun framed by two smaller stars or a curled feather or quill wrapping around the Hebrew character for knowledge, 'ידע', depending on where he is depicted and what he is representing at the time; jubilation or knowledge. However, in some instances, Uriel's halo is a combination of the two.

In the past, Uriel has been teased by other angels of the same or higher ranking about the shape of the feather in his halo. It's become an incredibly sore spot for him since then and as a result you might be able to catch him looking at it in reflective surfaces with a face of embarrassment and disdain. It doesn't look like a human child drew it... right? It's not wonky at all...

𖤓𝕾𝖚𝖕𝖗𝖎𝖘𝖊 𝕲𝖚𝖊𝖘𝖙 𝕴𝖙𝖊𝖒𝖘𖤓

Food: Black Coffee of Melancholy & Backstabbing Sandwiches. Medical: Bandage. Presents: Book & Perfume.

𖤓𝕾𝖚𝖕𝖗𝖎𝖘𝖊 𝕲𝖚𝖊𝖘𝖙 𝕿𝖔𝖚𝖈𝖍 𝖅𝖔𝖓𝖊𝖘𖤓

OK!: Both shoulders & middle of his chest. NO!: his head & face. GREAT!: his clasped hands.

𖤓𝕳𝖚𝖒𝖆𝖓 𝕽𝖊𝖆𝖑𝖒 𝕮𝖑𝖔��𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌𖤓

𖤓𝕴𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖆𝖈𝖞 𝕴𝖓𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𖤓

4%: His constellation is... Cancer!

36%: His favorite food is... sour fruit creame sanwiches!

64%: His ideal type is... someone who's smarter than he is!

𖤓𝕴𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖆𝖈𝖞 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖙𖤓

👤 <「You dog, where did Sir Raphael wander off to? Don't pretend you don't know; his radiance is too hard to miss.」

Choice 1: 「Er... whose this? How did you get my number?」> Choice 2: 「Sir Raphael...? Is an angel messaging me now?」>

👤 <「That doesn't matter. Just tell me where you saw him last, will you. You're wasting precious time that instead could be spent watching Sir Raphael rid this realm of demons.」

👤 <「Honestly, you humans. The only good one of the lot of you was that human Solomon. I overheard Sir Raphael saying that he was very intelligent and talented in alchemy. It's a pity that someone of such intelligence is a part of a lousy species.」

Choice 1: 「Wait, you met Solomon? What was he like?」> Choice 2: 「I'm jealous, everyone has met Solomon...」>

👤 <「Well, it's not as if I met that human per se, but I did overhear Sir Raphael and the other two esteemed Seraphim speaking about him a long time ago. I was both envious and in awe of them to be able to meet a favored creation of our God.」

👤 <「Oh to be there when he was up in the heavens, to pick his brain and feast upon his delicious knowledge. This event alone is yet another piece of proof why Sir Raphael is the best out of each of the esteemed Seraphim. He's so cool; with his brilliantly shining halo and that mysterious demeanor of his~」

👤 <「Wait a minute! Why am I telling you this? It's none of your business in the first place! Nosey dog, quickly tell me where Sir Raphael has gone, I can't lag behind for too long!」

Choice 1: 「I'm nosey? Aren't you the one rambling on?」> Choice 2: 「How am I supposed to know who's who?」>

👤 <「You dare still evade my question? You humans are such a pain in the neck; always making excuses. Surely it's not that hard to tell the difference between a seraph and any other lowly angel? Are you implying that Sir Raphael is average? You fiend!」

👤 <「Fine then. Since you want to fool around and attempt to deceive me, I shall find where you are and smite you. You dared to disrespect my esteemed and radiant lord, Sir Raphael, so you must be prepared to reap what you sew, you dirty dog.」

👤 <「I shall find you and personally deliver your corpse to my lord, surely he'll be pleased with me after bringing him a fine meal. He might even praise me with that cool look he does~」

Choice 1: 「Man, you sure love that Raphael guy huh?」> Choice 2: 「Jeez, I didn't think I'd talk to a simp today...」>

👤 <「Of course! While I'm not sure what you're trying to imply with that wording, I am truly unworthy of him. But, what's not to like? That luxurious golden hair, those deep crimson eyes, that aloof attitude; he's absolute perfection! And on top of it all, he's nearly all knowing! Such a powerful, handsome, and intelligent being is worth the praise I give.」

👤 <「Now that I think about it, maybe its a good thing that you haven't seen him. Thise filthy demon loving eyes of yours aren't even worthy enough to view his shadow, let alone his ethereal being. I suppose I can't be too angry with you anymore for not seeing him; so I'll let you off for that grievance.」

Choice 1: 「I didn't really ask at all, but that's cool I guess.」> Choice 2: 「Um... cool?」>

👤 <「Yes, he is cool, isn't he? Very cool. The coolest.」

👤 <「Say, you wouldn't mind signing a petition that I've written up would you? As a fellow fan of Sir Raphael, you must know that other angels are attempting to imply that he's below Sir Michael in favorability and standing. It's untrue, I say. Completely untrue. You mustn't believe a word they say!」

👤 <「I shall forward you the petition in due time. Actually no, I shall add you to a group with my comrads, the petition has already been posted there. I expect to see your signature, my brother in admiration.」

[You were added to "Sir Raphael's Admirers"]

End.

𖤓𝕴𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖆𝖈𝖞 𝕮𝖔𝖒𝖎𝖈𖤓

N/A

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

No m.list link(s) this time, sorry burrow dwellers.

191 notes · View notes

tkwrites · 4 months ago

Text

It Doesn't Matter Part I - Nico Hischier x ofc

Gif from offside-the-lines

Title: It Doesn’t Matter - Part I

Part I | Part II | Part III | Playlist

Author: Tory / @tkwrites

Relationship: Beginning: Nico Hischier x Original female character

Summary: Nico and Lena have been friends ever since he played in Halifax. When an opportunity of a lifetime brings Lena to New York, Nico offers up his apartment as her home base despite the fact that he’s been painfully, desperately in love with her for the last six years.

Warnings: Slow burn, mutual pining, friends to lovers, talks of masturbation, but nothing is described, Cliff hanger ending (I’m sorry, I had to!)

Word count: 7,300

Anonymous asked: I saw that you rebloged the Nico fic so I have to ask would you ever be open to write for him?, because the combination of your perfect writing and that sweet man, I would die for sure 😂

Comments: A thousand thanks to 🥭 Anon for requesting this fic! Nico has been such a fun, sweet character to write. I’m sorry for the cliffhanger ending, but I envisioned this fic in 3 parts, and this one had to end here. I hope you enjoy it!

If you liked this, please let me know by commenting, reblogging, or sending in an ask. Your encouragement and comments truly inspire me to keep writing.

It Doesn’t Matter - Part I

“You coming to the bar tonight?” Jesper asked.

“I can’t, I’m helping Lena move in.”

“Wait,” Jack said, barging his way into their conversation as per usual, “Lena, Lena? Like Lena from Halifax who you’ve been in love with since you were seventeen?”

Nico felt a blush flood his cheeks as he nodded.

“Moving in?”

“She’s coming to New York for an art program this year, so I told her she could stay with me.”

Jack stared at him, one of his eyebrows cocked up. “You’re sure that’s a good idea?”

Nico shook his head.

“No it’s not a good idea, or no you’re not sure?”

He shrugged. Hell if he knew. He was thrilled to have her close by but knew it would likely be torturous at the same time.

“Who is Lena?”

“She’s this girl he met when he was playing for the Mooseheads,” Jack explained. “You haven’t heard about her? He never shuts up about her.”

Blushing, Nico tossed an elbow pad in Jack’s direction.

“Did you stay with her family or something?”

“No,” Nico said. “She was friends with our goalie.”

“They’ve been besties ever since, and Nico still hasn’t grown the balls to ask her out.”

Nico glared at him.

“What?” Jack asked, shrugging. “You haven’t.”

“It’s complicated.”

“What’s so complicated about it? You like her. She’s single. You’re single. What’s the problem?”

“I don’t…” he broke off.

Keeping Lena as a friend was more important than the possibility of him spilling his feelings and risking losing her. Plus, he wasn’t totally sure she’d respond the way he wanted, and he was pretty certain he wouldn’t survive it if she turned him down.

“So, in the meantime, you’re just breaking up with every girl you’ve dated and overlooking every other woman because they don’t measure up, but you won’t ask her out, so you’re just pining full time.”

It was stunning, really, how he could talk so accurately about other peoples relationships without seeing the flaws in his own. Nico knew from experience not to bring Madeline up. In situations of talking about failure in relationships, Jack could dish all day long, but he could never quite take it if it was served back at him.

“Betty at 2:00,” Jack murmured. Watching a petite woman with light hair enter the bar. She had a pretty, heart shaped face and big, expressive eyes.

She turned around, laughing at whoever was following her. Despite the fact that he couldn’t hear her, Jack knew her laugh was the kind that made other people want to laugh along.

Instead of the friend he expected, Nico stepped into the bar after her, looking a little punch drunk.

Jack nearly choked on his beer.

Well, shit.

If Lena was as funny and sweet as Nico made her out to be, Jack didn’t think he’d be able to move on from her either.

She said something to Nico, and he tore his gaze from her to look around the bar. Their eyes met, and he raised a hand in greeting. Jack waved back.

As they made their way closer, Jack realized her hair was actually light pink. And she had a nose ring: a delicate, jeweled thing hanging from her septum. Instead of calling up a resemblance to a hooked bull, like he usually thought those piercings looked, it made her face more lovely and interesting. The dainty diamond rested in the curve of her cupid's bow, emphasizing the shape of her top lip.

Lena felt herself smile upon walking up to the group of hockey players and their partners. She’d grown up with boys like this, and walking up to them was a bit like walking into her childhood.

“It’s Jack, right?” Lena asked. She’d seen photos of him from Nico and recognized him right away, along with Jesper, who was sitting on his other side.

“In the flesh. You must be Lena,” Jack said, standing up. He shot her a flirtatious, charming smile.

She couldn’t quite hide her eye roll, “he’s just as cheesy as you said,” she whispered to Nico, who was still standing off to her left.

Shoulders shaking with laughter, Nico pulled out a chair for her before settling into the one beside it.

God, even in this awful club lighting, she looked beautiful. The finer parts of her face were dulled in the dim, but everything he could see made him long for her.

Maybe Jack was right. Maybe this was a terrible idea.

“So, Lena,” Jesper said, leaning back in his chair, “what brings you to the city?”

“I got accepted into an intensive year-long art program at the New York Institute of Art. I’ve been applying for years, and they finally accepted me.”

“What kind of art do you do?” Dawson asked.

He’d wandered to the table as soon as they sat down, and Nico was talking himself down from moving to sit between them. Dawson wouldn’t stop looking at Lena like she’d just fallen from the moon, and he wanted nothing more than to fall into her bed.

“I paint, but I do a lot of charcoal drawings and pastels, too.”

“Like the colors?”

She was used to this question and laughed indulgently at the confused expression on his face. “No, pastels are just pigment with a binder. It’s kind of like paint, but they’re not liquid.”

“She does amazing stuff,” Nico cut in, knowing she wouldn’t brag about her own work. He was happy to do it for her. “She did all the art in my apartment.”

The first time Lena had visited him, she was aghast at how little was on his walls. It made his whole house look like a hospital - too sterile and characterless. No wonder he was depressed when he wasn’t playing. His home looked like a place made for leaving.

So she’d painted for him. Ten canvases in total. Most were landscapes, but there was also a small abstract he always suspected was a kind of self portrait and a strange, dark, modern piece - swirls of color chasing each other across the canvas. When he asked about that one, she’d told him his games inspired it - blurs of black and red darting around the ice.

She’d even done a large landscape of the view from his childhood window, based on a photo he’d sent her several summers before. Rows and rows of misty roofs tucked into the base of the Alps as the mountains loomed over the town. Somehow, she managed to capture the safe, cocooned feeling of home.

Every time he looked at the painting where it hung, taking up nearly the whole wall opposite his bed, it eased some of his homesickness during the long seasons in New Jersey.

For months, a package he didn’t order would show up at his door, and he’d open it to reveal yet another piece of her to keep with him.

When the Naters painting arrived, he’d called her practically in tears. She told him she knew he missed home and hoped it would bring a little bit of home to Jersey.

He forced her to accept repayment for shipping such a large canvas and made her promise to let him pay if she was sending any more. Instead, she’d brought an additional four with her on her next visit.

Dawson looked even more enamored as he said, “that stuff is really good!”

Nico couldn’t remember Dawson taking any particular interest in the art when he’d been at his house before. Jack had noticed it, which had spurred the conversation about Lena in the first place.

She offered him a thankful smile that Nico was pleased to see, was void of any flirtation.

They had a drink a piece before she began to yawn. Nico wasn’t surprised. She’d driven from Halifax to Maine the day before and then from Maine to New Jersey that morning. He’d helped her unload her things before she insisted they come to the kickoff party.

“I’m really sorry,” she apologized, covering her mouth.

“You’ve had a long day,” Dawson said, encouraging, “you should go get some sleep.”

She smiled indulgently at him before standing from the table. She really was exhausted. Plus alcohol always made her sleepy.

When they got home, Lena asked, “Do you mind if I let cookie out?”

He shook his head, going to the kitchen to get some water.

A few minutes later, her light orange tabby cat came skulking into the kitchen, eyeing everything suspiciously. When they made eye contact, Cookie narrowed his eyes as he stalked over.

After sniffing his socks, he seemed to decide he was the same person he’d always been and rubbed his face on Nicos leg.

Walking into the kitchen, Lena heard Nico murmuring in German. As always, it made her stomach twist a little. She’d known him for six years, and it wasn’t that she forgot he was from Switzerland so much as she forgot how sexy his voice sounded speaking the language he’d grown up with. Even with her limited understanding of German, she got the distinct impression he sounded more like himself than when he spoke English.

Rounding the kitchen island, she expected to find him crouched down, talking to one of his siblings on the phone while digging something out of a low drawer. Instead, his phone was nowhere to be found, and he was speaking to Cookie, who had flopped onto his side, happy to be receiving pets.

“Oh,” she said before she could stop herself. The sight of Nico loving on her cat made her heart thunk into her ribs.

This, right here, is why she originally told him she was staying in the city.

He had insisted there was no reason she needed to spend the money when he was right across the river. When she’d hesitated, he played his ace, bribing her with Cookie. “You can bring him, and both of you can stay,” he’d said, “you wouldn’t have to leave him with your parents.”

Even though she knew it would suck to be around him all the time, knowing he didn’t have any interest in her, she’d caved right away.

The problem with Nico was that he was just so damn sweet. He did everything from the bottom of his heart and was genuinely happy to help. As soon as she managed to convince herself she didn’t love him, he would go and do something like insist she stay with him not only for finances, but because she wouldn’t have to leave her cat behind, and feeling would swoop into her heart again.

This was her last undoing for the night. Not only had she watched him carry her things into his apartment, his hockey-hardened body taking the brunt of the weight with ease, she’d had to listen to him laugh and tease while he flashed his dimples at her all day. And now, he was sweet talking her cat in German.

God, how was she going to survive this?

Nico’s eyes darted up at her noise. He hadn’t heard her come in. She’d pulled her hair into a bun on the top of her head, but a few of the shorter pieces had escaped, falling around her face.

Throughout the time he’d known her, her hair had been many different colors. When they met, it had been blonde, then ginger, then purple, then blue. She dyed it back to her natural ashy blonde for a while before going to this pastel pink she’d been maintaining for the last two years. When he asked her why she’d kept it for so long, she said, “I don’t know, it just looks like me.”

He had to agree. It looked incredible on her, making her skin warm and her hazel eyes bright.

Wanting yawned in his stomach, and he tore his eyes away before she could see the lovesick expression Jack teased was written all over his face whenever he looked at her.

“I’m glad to see he’s making himself at home,” Lena said, laughing.

“He’s sweet,” Nico said, standing. “I thought you’d be in bed.”

“I wanted to say thanks again,” she said, stepping forward to hug him.

As his arms wound around her waist, Nico allowed himself a moment of fantasy, imagining she wouldn’t be going to her own room when they turned in for the night. He couldn’t stop his mind from continuing down the fantastical road that living together might be the thing that finally got them from friends over the hill to lovers.

“I’m happy to have you here,” he said when the fantasy had run its course, and he came back to reality.

Cookie meowed as if upset at being left out.

She broke away with a laugh and bent to gather him into her arms.

“Thank you again,” she said, leaning in to brush a kiss over his cheek.

Nico felt himself go still as stone. He couldn’t remember if she’d ever done that before.

“G’night.”

“Gute nacht,” he responded, barely holding himself back from waving as his mind was still caught on trying to process the fact that she’d actually kissed him. On the cheek, but still, her lips had been soft and warm, especially against the hard contrast of her nose ring.

He watched her disappear down the hall before he smacked a hand to his forehead. “Gute nacht,” he mocked himself. “You couldn’t think of anything better to say?”

He was a fool for thinking this was going to work.

The next thing he had never expected when he invited her to move in came the following morning.

Lena hadn’t stayed with Nico in his new place before. She couldn’t have. He upgraded to renting the three bedroom apartment in their building when it was finally settled that she would be living with him. That way, he still had a spare room for when family or friends came in town.

The day previous, she’d picked the room closer to his. Had he known — had he thought about it, he would have suggested she take the other one. He could have made up some bullshit excuse about how he didn’t want his snoring to keep her up at night.

Had he been thinking clearly, he would have noticed that her ensuite bathroom shared a wall with his bedroom. The very wall his headboard sat against.

As it was now, Lena, always the early riser, was in the shower. Right on the other side of the wall.

Waking up to the water drumming into the tile, it took him a moment to place the sound. Only when it shifted, quieting and changing rhythm did he realize what was happening - she’d stepped under the water.

With a sudden jolt, Nico realized that his headboard, some paint, sheetrock, a jumble of studs, and a few dozen white subway tiles were the only things separating him from her naked form.

The idea of it assaulted his senses until he was half hard and couldn’t think of anything else.

Cursing, he pulled a pillow over his face and groaned loudly. He couldn’t ask her to move now. He would have to explain why, and he wouldn’t be caught dead telling her he needed her to move because he couldn’t get the image of her naked, water trailing off her hair, dripping onto her breasts and pooling around her feet, out of his mind.

He groaned into his pillowcase again.

This went on for a few more minutes before the water changed again, increasing in pressure and beating a staccato rhythm against the tile. A second later, he heard the water shift and change again as well as a gentle thud, as if she’d fallen against the wall.

Knowing exactly what that meant, he vaulted out of bed, rushing to his own bathroom. He would not jack off to the sound of her in the shower. That was a step too far, but if he let his imagination run, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to stop himself. He’d thought of her many, many times while getting himself off over the years, but doing it while she was in his house, very likely getting herself off, felt like a step too far.

Cold water shocked him back into his senses, and he didn’t let himself think about it anymore.

Lena stepped out of the shower, feeling much better. Not only did she feel more rested, she was finally able to release some of the sexual frustration that had settled on her like a heavy blanket since arriving. She would have done it the night before, but showering was always part of her morning routine, and in the rush of moving and getting to the bar to meet Nicos team mates, she hadn’t fully unpacked, and couldn’t find her vibrator. She’d tried with her fingers, but it just didn’t work the same way. When she finally fell asleep, she was still feeling frustrated and needy.

After dressing and putting some dry shampoo in her hair, she walked into the kitchen only to find Nico scooping freshly ground coffee beans into the coffee maker, wearing nothing more than a towel. His hair was still wet, and she watched a rivulet of water wind its way down his back, all the way to the dimples at the base of his spine. Wanting sparked to life between her thighs again. So much for easing the sexual frustration.

“Morning,” she made herself say, refusing to be the creepy one watching him shirtless, core throbbing at the thought of him.

Nico jumped, and his hand snagged the towel around his waist before it fell. He thought he had more time. He wouldn’t have come out here in only a towel if he thought she would be out soon. He just wanted to have coffee made for her.

“I thought you were still in the shower,” he said by way of explanation.

“How did you know I was in the shower?”

“It’s right on the other side of my bedroom wall,” he informed her, trying to keep the guilt out of his voice.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuckety fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Oh,” she said, hoping beyond hope the sound of the water had drowned out the accidental, desperate way she’d moaned his name when her climax finally hit.

She had to find her vibrator. Maybe she’d pick one up in the city, just in case. She couldn’t be getting herself off in the shower anymore. There was no way. Absolutely no way. Knowing he was on the other side of the wall would shrivel her sex drive like a dried out bean pod. There was no way she could get off to thinking about him, knowing he might be able to hear her, and then she would just be even more frustrated. It didn’t matter if she might find her vibrator unpacking later that day, she decided, she was getting one in the city. Better safe than sorry.

Pushing that idea away to think about later, she accepted the mug of coffee he held out to her.

“Oat milk, right?” he asked, trying to steer the conversation away from her showers proximity to his bed. “I found this pistachio kind I thought you might like,” he said, rifling in the fridge with one hand, the other still clasping his towel. He needed to pull it tighter but couldn’t with her in the room. At least the cool air was calming his flushed cheeks.

And just like that, the sweetness that was Nico Hischier burrowed its way into her heart again, easing some of the lust back into love. It was incredible how being seen made her feel. Not only with eyes but with words and actions to follow them up.

No wonder every man she’d dated in the last six years paled in comparison. Nico set an impossible standard for other men to meet.

And that wasn’t even taking into account the fact that he had the body of a god and the most empathetic, earnest brown eyes she’d ever seen.

They never even stood a chance.

He found the creamer he’d picked up the last time he was at the grocery. Lena loved all things pistachio, and when he’d seen the non-dairy creamer, he’d automatically put it in his basket for her to try once she got here.

When he turned to her, he had to push away thoughts of kissing her that often came up when he saw her smile the way she was now.

Setting the creamer down, he mumbled, “I’ll be right back,” before practically running to his bedroom. He threw on some shorts and a T-shirt. Coming back in, he found her sitting at the table, looking at her phone as she lifted the coffee mug to her lips.

“What are you up to today?”

“I’m going into the city. Find the best subway route to the academy, find my classes, that kind of thing.” Her courses didn’t start for another few days, but Lena knew she would feel better having explored first.

“If you can wait till I’m done with practice, I can come with you,” he offered.

Even as he kept his expression neutral, she could hear the undertone of unease in his voice.

“Nico, I’m going to be going out there by myself every day.”

“But you don’t have to do it alone the first time.”

It wasn’t like he knew the way any better. Lena knew for a fact that he didn’t take to wandering around the city for fun, and if he did, he drove in or took an Uber. Plus, she wouldn’t be able to get her vibrator if he came with her. She didn’t like thinking about the pity she’d find in his face at her inability to find a man to fulfill those needs for her.

“It’s not the first time. I’ve lived in the city before.”

“For three months when you were twenty,” he reminded.

“Exactly. It’s not my first rodeo.”

He never understood that expression. He’d seen a rodeo, and it didn’t seem like the kind of thing someone could grasp after doing it once. It was just another American idiom that always went over his head.

“Nico, I’ll be fine,” she said when he didn’t respond. “I have you on speed dial if I get stuck somewhere, okay?”

Biting his lip, he tamped down the overprotectiveness rearing up inside him. Lena was smart. She didn’t get herself into trouble. But she was also so pretty, and some men were dogs.

The look on her face, defiant and determined told him exactly how this was going to end.

“Okay,” he said with a sigh. “But you’ll call me if you get lost?”

“Yes. I’ll call you if anything comes up.”

Nico threw himself into practice. Hockey always managed to clear his mind when he was stressed. Even the sound of it - skates scraping the ice, pucks thwacking into sticks and the simpleness of communication - made everything else slip into focus. He didn’t have to worry about being an idiot or saying the wrong thing. He demanded the puck when he needed it and tried to get it into the net.

Practice was a reprieve from the stress of life. Of all life, all the time. But especially then with Lena in his house. He could skate her out of his mind and focus on simpler things.

Jonas came up to his stall as he was getting out of his gear.

“Can I still come get my box?”

It took a moment for Nico to remember. He’d had left his gaming console at his house a few days ago. “Yeah.”

When they walked into the house, he found Cookie, right at home, stretched out over the back of the sofa in a sunbeam.

“Since when do you have a cat? I didn’t think you liked cats.” Jonas asked.

“He’s Lenas,” Nico corrected. Jonas raised an eyebrow, which Nico chose to ignore. “And I don’t dislike cats. Cookie is sweet.”

“Cookie?” he repeated. “She named her cat Cookie?”

“Apparently she had a stuffed animal that looked like him named Cookie when she was little,” he explained with a shrug, trailing a hand over the cats silky fur.

Cookie trilled at him and arched his back for more pets.

The door opened behind them, and Lena herself walked into the apartment, flushed from her walk from the station in the cool autumn air.

Nico tore his eyes away from her before Jonas could give him another raised eyebrow at the look he knew was all over his face.

“Hey, Lena,” Jonas greeted.

“Hey Jonas,” she said with a big smile, giving him a hug. “It’s good to see you.”

They’d met in Switzerland a few months before when Lena had come after a trip to Italy with some friends. Her friends had gone home, and she’d caught a train to Bern to spend a few days with him before she had to get back to Canada. It was then that he’d learned about her acceptance into the academy and suggested she should stay with him.

After she went out and about with Nina, and he finished with training, they had all gone out for dinner and drinks at his favorite place, Tramdepot. Jonas’s girlfriend, Nola, was out of town, and had Nico not known she existed and that Jonas was head over heels for her, he would have been sorely tempted to end the night early so he and Lena would have to stop talking.

“You can’t be jealous if you’re never going to ask her out,” Nina had admonished him on the way home.

Knowing Lena didn’t speak German allowed him to be open and honest with his sister, even as Lena walked in front of them.

“She doesn’t date hockey players.”

Nina gave him a wry look, “she told you that?”

“No, she told her friend, Jessica. I overheard them.”

“What exactly did she say?” Nina asked.

“She said, ‘I don’t date hockey players.’ And then Jessica asked, ‘what about Nico?’”

“And she said?” Nina prompted.

“She said it doesn’t matter.”

“I think you should still talk to her.”

“She said it doesn’t matter, Nina,” he said, and there had been an embarrassing amount of whining pain in his voice.

Nina bit her lip, glancing at Lena, who was walking next to Jonas, asking something about the architecture.

“I can’t —” his voice had almost broken, “I can’t.” He couldn’t even get the words out.

He was in love with Lena. He knew that. And it was wonderful and painful and awful all at the same time. But the thought of asking her and having her say no - the thought of asking her and it changing their friendship forever? That was worse than the bitter, lovely pain of being in unrequited love. The idea of losing her was worse than knowing he would never have her in that way.

“Well, I should get going,” Jonas said, gesturing with the playstation and bringing Nico back to the present.

“I’m sure I’ll see you around,” Lena said, offering him another hug.

After Jonas left, Nico followed her to her room, leaning in the doorway. There were still boxes around, and he noticed a pile of clothes on the floor that she'd obviously pulled out of a box in search of her outfit for the day. He willed his eyes to skip over something lacy and green.

“How was it?”

“Fine,” she said, setting her tote bag carefully on the bed, making sure it wouldn’t tip over. On top of the vibrator, she’d bought lingerie. Not that she had anyone to wear it for. But the pink set had been on display and matched her hair. She’d asked to try it on on a whim and found she couldn’t leave it behind. Even if it was just for herself, the lace and mesh balconette bra and matching panties made her feel pretty and sexy. So what if no one else ever saw them? She’d know they were there, and that was enough.

All the same, she didn’t want Nico to see it. The thought of him knowing she’d bought lingerie when he knew she didn’t have anyone to show it off for made heat race to the surface of her skin.

When it wouldn’t stay upright, she tipped the bag gently, resting it against her pillows so nothing would spill out.

“Just fine?” he asked, worry edging into his tone.

“It was good,” she said, turning around. “I found everything fine. I only went three stops in the wrong direction once. My advisor seems nice, and all my classes are right in the academy, so I won’t get lost.” Walking from the room, she changed the subject, “how was practice?”

“Good,” he dragged a hand down his face, “I think we’re finally starting to gel as a team.”

“That’s great, Nico.”

“I hope it comes together before we head to Carolina.”

“I’m sure it will. If you’re already seeing that now, it’ll only get better in a week, right?”

He smiled, glad to have her sweet reassurance around. Though she never played hockey - “You would not want to see me on skates. I’m the most uncoordinated disaster of a baby gazelle you’ve ever seen.” - she’d grown up with siblings and friends who play and had a thorough understanding of the game and what it took to win.

That first month living with her was an awkward dance. When his first road trip came around, it was a relief to get away. He could finally breathe easy, not worried about turning any corner to find her being unassumingly lovely in some new area of the apartment.

But by the second night away, he found himself missing her and missing their evening routine of sipping tea while watching TV. She never complained when he pulled up one of his brothers games or something else Swiss as long as the subtitles were on, and he’d gotten way too sucked in to the ridiculous reality TV show she loved about couples living in a villa together, searching for love.

That second night, when missing her had settled into his chest in a way he hadn’t yet experienced, he almost turned it on for he and Jonas to watch before bed, just to get some comfort of home back. Instead, he’d tossed the remote to Jonas. Lena said she’d wait to watch it with him when he came back, and he didn’t want to let her down. Plus, he wasn’t totally sure he wanted Jonas knowing he enjoyed such trashy shit.

He missed the steadiness of her presence. He’d gotten so used to living alone, he’d forgotten how nice it was to have someone else in the house. She was always there if he needed a little comfort, offering a hug or a listening ear, or a back rub.

After he got home, they fell into a comfortable routine, weaving in and out of each other's lives. They would have coffee at the start of each day before she left for classes, and he left for practice.

In the afternoon, she worked on her art in the living room, and he liked to watch her paint or draw, silhouetted against the large window, if she was still there after he’d taken his nap.

She cooked dinner most nights. She wasn’t a chef by any means, but she enjoyed cooking, and he was always appreciative, even when something was burned. Plus, she owed him. The money he saved her by not having to pay for housing for a year wasn’t insubstantial. Cooking was a small way she could pay him back on the few nights he was home each week. She’d even made his favorite meal the day after a hard loss.

He gave her the cold he caught on their second trip. Something, he was sure, he got from Haula’s kids, and they were miserable together for a few days. He woke to her showering in the middle of the night more than once as she tried to clear her sinuses.

When Halloween came around, he asked if she wanted to go to the team party with him. It was the first time since he’d come to New Jersey he didn’t have to come up with a costume by himself or do something with one of his teammates. He’d had girlfriends before, most of them from Switzerland, but no one who was able to make it to the party.

They spent one of his off weekends figuring out what to wear. Lena was worried about giving people the wrong idea and shot down most of the suggestions that came up on her web search as they were all suited for couples.

Every time someone asked how long they had been dating, it was like being jabbed with a hot poker; pointing out everything she wanted but didn’t have.

In the end, they decided to go as people who had been stranded in the desert. She panted their cheeks to look sunburned and put dyed baby powder in their hair and eyebrows to mimic sand. They wore ripped, tan clothing and carried empty canteens.

When she’d come out of her room, he swore his heart nearly stopped upon seeing the open, artfully dirty button up shirt she wore tied over a tan colored bra. He’d seen her in a swimsuit before, so in theory, he’d seen this much of her skin, but this seemed more intimate than a bathing suit.

It sparked a new wave of longing in him.

More than once, Jack gave him an exasperated look when he caught Nico staring at her as she talked with the WAGs. He was obsessing over all the little details of her costume. The way one of her shredded khaki pant legs was higher than the other, showing the tattoo of a paintbrush crossed with a pencil on the inside of her right ankle, the stripe of her smooth low back visible between her shirt and pants, and of course, the flash of her cleavage anytime she turned toward him.

“You’re gonna have to make it happen, man,” he said, passing by to get another drink.

It took almost six weeks, but he got used to her fresh faced beauty being around all the time. It didn’t dull necessarily, but like living in a beautiful place, eventually, the beauty fades into the background until the lighting changes and everything is suddenly new and breathtaking again. While she was around all the time, it grew easier for him to push aside.

On a Saturday in early November, he came home from practice to hear her humming somewhere in the apartment. She wasn’t in the living room - in fact, her drop cloth and easel hadn’t even been set up.

Opening his mouth to call for her, his greeting died in his throat when he walked into the kitchen. She was in a tight, pink t-shirt, a matching pair of little boy short underwear and nothing else. His eyes were immediately drawn to the round swells of her ass peeking out from under the material.

He couldn’t look away. Even knowing he should say something, so she didn’t think he was just creepily watching her didn’t help him.

Forget looking like a creep. He was never forgetting this as long as he lived.

Lena turned around and jumped. Nico was standing in the kitchen doorway, mouth slightly agape. He’d been quiet as a mouse, and the shock of his sudden appearance sent her sandwich diving off the plate. It opened on its descent and splatted onto the dark tile, meat and condiment side down - because, of course, it did.

She swore, and it snapped Nico out of his reverie. He dropped to his knees to help clean it up.

As she knelt next to him with a wet rag to wipe the butter off the tile, her bare knee slid into his field of vision.

“I’m sorry I didn't say anything,” he said emphatically, feeling himself blush as he kept his eyes trained on the floor so they wouldn’t travel up the creamy expanse of her thigh.

Shaking her head, Lena stood, hoping he didn’t notice she’d practically turned the same shade as her shirt, “I’m sorry about this,” she said, gesturing to her legs. Of course he had to come home when she wasn’t wearing any pants. The shirt and panties had arrived that morning, and she had been trying them on when she decided to make a sandwich.

Nico looked up and felt his jaw go slack. Somehow, he managed to keep it from falling open. He could clearly see the slope of her breasts and a stripe of her stomach where the shirt didn't quite reach her underwear. He inexplicably wanted to bite the curve of her inner thigh.

He could only blink several times before he managed to look away. Made new in the harsh light of the kitchen, wanting her took over his thoughts, turning him into a bumbling idiot once again.

God, what wouldn’t he give to worship her any way she would let him?

“I didn’t think you were coming home until later. I would have put on pants.”

The fact that she apparently often didn’t wear pants when he wasn’t home burrowed into his brain to torture him later.

He managed to make some kind of noncommittal noise and stood up.

Lena scurried to her room, grateful that, at least, she had this new set on, and not a pair of ratty old undies.

She wished she could forget the shocked look on his face when he looked up at her from his knees. She’d envisioned him on his knees before her so many times, but none of those fantasies involved him staring open mouthed at her thighs.

A week later, as they were watching Love Island, Lena asked a question she never thought she would have to.

“When’s your next night off at home?”

Nico pulled up his calendar app, and flipped through the days, “Thursday.”

“Oh.”

“What’s up?” he asked, setting his phone on the side table.

“I…” Her cheeks flushed, and she bit her lip.

“What?” he asked, feeling nervous. She was going to tell him she started dating someone, wasn’t she? That she’d met someone while he’d been out of town. The prospect of it roiled in his stomach.

“I thought I had more time,” she said.

His fantasized dilemma fractured a little. “More time for what?”

She took in a calming, deep breath, looking up at the ceiling so she didn’t have to look at his face when she said it. “I need to — I need to do a nude study for my figure class.”

“So? You’ve done nude studies before,” he reminded, thinking about the sketches he’d seen in her portfolio. Part of this intensive training was figure drawing, which he knew she didn’t enjoy, but everything he’d seen looked near perfect to him. Smooth, curved lines, and strong, handsome faces. He didn’t understand what she was so worried about.

Professor Brown’s consistent feedback was that her drawings looked too one dimensional, that she wasn’t capturing the living essence of her subjects. She assured the class that, though it would be awkward, their art would be better when they could no longer pretend the person in front of them was a sculpture. The surefire way to do that? Take away the emotional distance between the artist and their model.

“Yeah, but those were with people I’d never met. My professor wants us to do a study with someone we know…preferably of the opposite gender. She said it would make the art more intimate.” Daring to meet his eyes, Lena felt a blush scorch her skin.

Understanding sparked in his face, and she watched his eyes widen.

“You want me to be your nude model?”

She licked her lips, “I thought about asking Jesper to do it, but that didn’t seem right.”

“Why Jes?” he asked, barely keeping the flair of emotion out of his voice. That was the last thing he wanted to hear. Not only was his love for her unrequited, she would be more comfortable sketching one of his teammates. One of his engaged teammates.

“I don’t know. I feel like he wouldn’t be weird about it since the swedes are always so,” she gestured to her own body, “open. But it felt too… intimate when he has Nicole and we’re…us,” she finished lamely, finally daring to look into his face.

His heart leapt into his throat.

We’re us? What did that mean? What was us? They were friends? She wanted something more than friendship? Hope reignited in his chest for the millionth time.

He cleared his throat, hoping she couldn’t hear his heart hammering. “What would -” he had to pause to clear his throat again. “What would it involve?”

“You’d just need to sit or stand for a few hours while I do some sketches.”

“Naked?” he asked, his voice squeaking over the word despite his attempts to stay cool, “or could I wear my boxers?”

“I need to turn in six sketches, but at least half of them need to be nude, so you would only need to be naked for part of it.”

He didn’t respond right away, trying to sort out and understand his own racing thoughts.

She nibbled at her lip, “I know it’s kind of a lot to ask.”

There were so many reasons he wanted to say no, but despite all that, Nico still found himself nodding. He could never say no to her, even if it meant he had to pose naked for her to sketch.

She felt her cheeks flush again. The thought of seeing him this way had nixed the idea of Jesper from her mind. She didn’t want to sketch his thighs, even if it would be less awkward than sketching Nico. She might never get the chance to see him naked in a romantic setting, so, selfishly, she was seizing the opportunity while she had it.

“Has to be Thursday?” he asked.

“Well, sometime in the next week,” she said. “If you’re not comfortable with it, I can ask Jesper.”

“It’s not that,” he said. Too quick, too desperate. If she asked Jesper, it would get around the locker room like wildfire that she’d asked him instead of Nico and on top of not wanting to let her down, he couldn’t take the chirping that would come from that. “It’s just fast.”

“Do you have another day off?”

He swiped through his calendar again and shook his head. “We leave for six days after the game on Friday.”

Her lips pursed together. The flush that was glowing on her cheeks made him smile. At least she was just as nervous as he was.

“Do you need me to do anything before? Shave or…anything?” he asked, gesturing to his chest.

She hadn't even thought about it. From what she remembered, Nico didn't have a huge amount of chest hair anyway.

She'd known going into this conversation that it would end with at least a fifty percent chance he’d say yes, but when he asked about shaving, it struck her suddenly and completely that she really was about to see him naked.

“Nothing you wouldn’t normally do,” she squeaked.

Nico felt himself smile. If she was going to be this flustered the whole time, maybe this wouldn’t be half bad.

It Doesn't Matter:

Part I | Part II | Part III | Playlist

To read all my fics, check out my Fanfiction Masterlist

#nico & lena #nico hischier #nico hischier fic #nico hischier x oc #nico hischier imagine #nico hischier blurb #nico hischier one shot #nico hischier fanfiction #nico hischier fanfic #hockey romance #hockey fanfiction #nhl fanfiction #new jersey devils #🥭anon #nh13

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canon-in-too-deep · 15 days ago

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Free Grimms' Fairy Tales Typeset

I am so very excited to present free typeset #33: Grimms' Fairy Tales, by, of course, Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm. (Apologies for this being quite a long post, but I really wanted to show pictures of what's available in these typesets!) When I saw this in my ask box, I knew I had to do a typeset for it. But there were so many individual tales, and I wanted to do something a bit unique for each of them. But I also wanted to use a lot of color. And throw in some art. And that might make the typeset not so super printer friendly for some folks, so....

I made two versions of this typeset! Two different designs and color options. Both pdfs are available for FREE here and are sized for half letter (letter folio).

Grimms' Fairy Tales typeset version one is the full color version with a lot of little details and different art/motifs for each story (most of the art I used was by Maurice Pillard Verneuil; his stuff is so pretty).

And for the second version of the typeset (which I dubbed the Black and White, Hold the Art Alt in my google drive archive--I need a shorter name for that. The Deep Drive? Drivechive? Googachive?--I went black and white printer friendly, with prominent featuring ornaments and a more simple design.

You can see the differences clearly above. Both these typesets were a lot of fun to make, and I hope they print out well for people wanting to use them. It's one I hope to be able to print out soon for myself, to have as a personal physical copy. I kept stopping in the middle of typesetting just to read a few tales. (Cat-Skin and Snow White and Rose-Red are my two favorite tales (I just love the changed appearance lover trope), though The Juniper-Tree has a a solid standing with best revenge death.) Anyway, use these typesets as you wish! If there's any issues with the files, feel free to let me know! Just please leave credit and consider tagging me if you use them, or reblog if you can! More details and interior shots of the first version are below the break!

So the black and white version has pretty much the same design across all the different chapters, while the color version has a different swatch of art featured next to each title, to give some flair to each individual story. The whole double border around the drop caps was inspired by another (much more talented than I) member on Renegade Bindery, but I added in the extra picture frame for the motifs and changed some things around to get the sort of clean, classic, elegant vibe I was hoping for (originally, I was going to use good ol' IM FELL English and go with a much more gritty, vintage-y design, but changed it after seeing how well Crimson Text worked for the fairy tales (like I've said before, Crimson Text is a special occasion sort of font). Here's some more screenshots of the chapter beginnings (albeit a bit pixelated. Dang screenshots and their low quality):

The table of contents is pretty fun as well, extending the same borders and motifs design to full three pages:

And the fun also extended to the last page with info on the Brothers Grimm:

All in all, this was one of my favorite books to work on. If you have any suggestions for future typesets, my ask box is always open! Edit: also, the borders/frames going around the dropcaps were inspired by a design I saw done by the talented @teleportbooks!

#Grimms' Fairy Tales by Jacob Grimm and Wilhelm Grimm #grimms' fairy tales #fairy tales #typesets #typesetting #book design #bookbinding #book #free to use

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i-write-word · 4 months ago

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Based on this ask from the minds of @blindmagdalena and @letthenerdsleep; I had to.

CONTENT WARNING: SWEARING, HOMELANDER

"I just don't get what's so damn brilliant about that grin. It's just fucking green."

You pause in your coloring, damp paintbrush still in hand. You narrowed your eyes at John who was gazing outside the penthouse window at the horizon. He was slumped across the couch like an old Victorian painting as he waited somewhat patiently for you to pay attention to him.

You took a deep breath, knowing full well you would regret asking but you had to know. "...What?"

John huffed at you as if you were being unreasonable. "The green." He gestured vaguely to the paint tubes beside your palette. "What make it brilliant?" He asked as he folded his arms behind his head.

You blink at him, trying to process the question.

"And royal blue. What makes it royal? Like, royalty never had anything to do with blue. It'd make more sense if it was royal purple but what gives blue that title?" He mused.

You were gobsmocked, staring at the supe with your jaw open.

"Magenta too. Who lookaed at it and said, 'yeah, that's magenta.'" He floated up slightly off the couch so he could gesture the arc of his imaginary rainbow before settling back into his original position.

You set your paintbrush into the mug holding dirty paint water, your bottom lip folding over your teeth so you didn't burst out laughing. "John. Love of my life. My darling hero. Is this about the color thing again?"

The color thing, as you so eloquently put it, was about the time Homelander had decided to raid your collection of art supplies while he was bored and you were dedicating too much time to your hobby. He had combed through every pencil, paint tube and cake and even the forgotten box of crayons, reading each and every name before coming to you in a rage that he had no colors named after him.

He turned to you with blue eyes widened too innocently. "Look, I'm just saying! My name, as a color? That's brilliance right there." He turned his head to smirk up at the ceiling.

You shook your head fondly. "What color would you even be then?" You turned to face him now, crossing one leg over your knee. You drummed your fingertips against a blue splatter on your skin.

John blinked before sitting upright, hand to his chin as he carefully considered his options. "Hmmm, well.... I can't just be one color."

You snorted, regarding his Americana suit. "Obviously."

He grinned at you, that sweet little playful tilt of his lips that drew you in the first place. A soft puff of air escaped him as he realized you were playing along. "I can't even be two."

"Oooo, getting greedy"

He floated over to you as if he were magnetized. A daring hand rested on your knee. "I don't even know about three." He whispered conspiratorially, those sapphire blues sparkling with mischief.

You snorted again as you burst out laughing. "Oh, my God, you're impossible." You cupped his cheeks as you pulled him in closer. A warm smile had crossed your lips as you nuzzled your nose against his and John couldn't help but melt and bask in your joyous love.

"Yeah... but you like me best that way." He weaseled his way into your lap, careful to keep most of his weight off of you. He wrapped both arms around your neck and shoulders as you rested a hand on his waist.

A happy hum escaped him as you hugged him as tight as you could. "A man could get used to this." John sighed as he pressed his face against your neck.

You chuffed quietly as you rubbed your cheek against the top of his head, ruffling the dyed blond locks. "You're already spoiled enough." You teased before leaving a quick peck on his temple.

"You could spoil me more though." John rebuttled as he gave you his own gentle squeeze. "A whole lot more. Gimme allllll your love, sweetheart." He purred, as content as a cat in your lap.

You laughed louder at that and Homelander beamed at the sound. You both were well aware of how greedy he was, how starved he was for any affection you dared to give. He loved that you never grew tired of giving, no matter how demanding the supe became or how much time he consumed.

He hummed again as he pressed a kiss to your throat, feeling the thrum of your heartbeat through your jugular. He focused on the harmonies your body provided, from the percussion of your heart to the woodwind of your lungs. The soft gurgling of your digestive acids within your stomach accompanied your busy veins and arteries to provide the perfect background melody.

You struggled to keep him in your lap as John relaxed further into you, drunk on your sounds. "Geez, you'll fall asleep on me." You halfheartedly complained.

It wouldn't be the first time the hero had deemed you his napping place but he usually chose places more comfortable than your desk chair.

"You'll live." He mumbled against your skin, relishing in the jump of your heartbeat and the goosebumps raising the hair on your flesh.

You rolled your eyes and he snorted upon sensing your compliance.

"Juuuuust give in to me. You don't have to do anything else, lovely." He murmured as he started to drift off to sleep.

#homelander #the boys amazon #the boys tv #the boys #homelander x reader #artist reader #homie out here asking for cuddles #homiesexual #this ask just scratched all the right spots in my brain #homie is his own warning

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colleendoran · 2 years ago

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Neil Gaiman's CHIVALRY: From Illuminated Manuscripts to Comics

One of the many reasons I wanted to adapt Neil Gaiman's Chivalry into graphic novel form was to create a comic as a bridge and commentary re: comics and illuminated manuscripts.

We're often told that the first comic book was Action Comics #1 featuring Superman, a collection of Superman comic strips that morphed into comic books as an art form.

Sequential art predates Action Comics #1.

Action Comics popularized sequential art book storytelling that had already appeared in other forms in fits and starts throughout history. Comic books didn't take off as a popular medium for several reasons, not least of which was the necessary printing process hadn't been invented yet and it's hard to popularize - and commercialize - something most people can never see.

You find sequential art in cave paintings and in Egyptian hieroglyphics. I've read that comics (manga) were invented by the Japanese in 12th century scrolls.

And sequential art appears over and over again in Western art going back well over 1000 years, and in book form at least 1100 years ago.

The most obvious example of early sequential art in Western art - as a complete narrative in sequence - is the Bayeux Tapestry.

At 230 feet long, this embroidered length of cloth was likely commissioned around the year 1070 by Bishop Odo, brother of William the Conqueror. It depicts the Battle of Hastings in 1066 and the invasion of England by the Normans. (The tapestry was made in England, not in France, but it is called the Bayeux tapestry because that's where it is now.)

Imagine what a task it was to embroider this thing. Whew. And you thought it was hard learning Photoshop.

This work of art is important in the history of sequential narrative, but the Norman invasion is also important to the legend of King Arthur - and another important English legend - for reasons we'll get into later.

It's complicated.

All this is why you see this art in the background of this page of Chivalry.

Using the Romanesque art style of the tapestry in panel 1, I've added the Latin phrase "Rex Quondom, Rexque Futurus" - "The Once and Future King", the final words of Sir Thomas Malory's Le Morte d'Arthur as inscribed on King Arthur's tomb, and the title of T.H. White's famous Arthurian novel. (EDIT) and it has been kindly pointed out to me that QUONDOM should be QUONDAM, which is hilarious and annoying and this is how history gets rewritten by accident.

My original intention was to draw this Bayeux Tapestry scene out and juxtapose it with shots of Galaad interacting with the children, but the two page sequence I imagined didn't really work as well in reality as it did in my head.

Foremost among my concerns was that the tapestry reference might be too obscure for most readers. I wanted to weave the visual meta-text of Chivalry into the story (For further reading on this project and my use of visual meta-text, symbolism, and history in Neil Gaiman's Chivalry, go HERE. And HERE. And HERE. And Yet again HERE.) in such a way as it would enhance the experience for people who "got" the visual meaning, while not dragging things down for people who didn't. So I cut this scene down to one panel.

The tapestry is a complete, long form comic strip created over 1100 years before some people claim comics were invented. So, I loved being able to reference it here.

But even more interesting to me are the sequential art sequences that appear in illuminated manuscripts - comics in book form.

I once got into a rather vicious argument with an academic who insisted illuminated manuscripts were comics. I said no. She said yes. Then she insulted the lowly comic artist and blocked me on Facebook.

Whatever.

My point was not that you can't find sequential art in illuminated manuscripts. My point is that an illustrated book isn't de facto a comic. Most illuminated manuscripts are illustrated books. Some illuminated manuscripts contain sequential art.

Just because opera is music, that doesn't mean all music is opera.

Just because comics books are books that doesn't mean all books are comic books.

And just because some illuminated manuscripts contain sequential art, that doesn't mean all illuminated manuscripts are sequential art.

But one is.

Let me show you it.

One of the earliest examples of an illuminated manuscript with comic art is The Bible d'Etienne Harding which you can see in this really bad jpg here, sorry, best I could find.

Created around the year 1109, property of a French Cistercian monk, it combines sequences like this with pages of text and illustration.

Not a comic book IMHO, but an illuminated manuscript with sequences of text, illustration and sequential narrative.

It's no more a "comic book" than a newspaper is for having text, illustration, and comic strips in it.

IMHO, academic lady.

And here's a look at the Old English Hexateuch (hexateuch refers to the first 6 books of the Bible) which I think is far more visually complex and interesting work, and comes much closer to the illuminated manuscript as comic, but still intersperses large sequences of text and illustration with sequential storytelling sequences. So I don't consider it a comic, but a book with sequential work in it.

Now this work below is a different matter. This is from the Holkham Bible Picture Book, circa about 1330.

This thing is genius. It measures a little larger than a modern comic, around 8"x11", and almost every page of it is like this spread here. 231 pages of beautifully rendered art, with repeated use of banderoles - "speech scrolls" (basically word balloons) - and captions, and (mostly) real sequential art. I've never seen anything else that comes even close to it, and by all accounts, neither has anyone else.

It may not be a modern comic book - but it's a comic book as far as I can tell. I don't think there's any other illuminated manuscript that is as complete, sophisticated, and innovative a sequential storytelling work.

If this were printed and seen by more people, the comic book medium would have taken off centuries earlier, IMHO. But it wasn't. It was tucked away in a monastery somewhere and few people ever saw it. It ended up being forgotten for centuries until it popped up again around 1816 when a banker sold it to an avid book collector, Thomas Coke, Earl of Leicester, who inherited Holkham Hall and its library and set about restoring and expanding it.

The banker wrote, “a very curious MS. just brought here from the Continent. . . which I think one of the greatest curiosities I ever saw”.

Sequential art got invented over and over and over by one artist after another until one day centuries later, some teenaged boys found their newspaper strips gathered together in a cheap format, and suddenly comic books were popular and like new.

And then a lot of people who didn't seem to realize that books had had pictures in them for centuries got all up in arms about the harms of books with pictures in them.

I think it's funny that it is called the Holkham Bible Picture Book. There really was no "comic" art language when this work was created or when academics began to catalogue this sort of thing. Will they change the name now?

Who can say.

Anyway, another Holkham Bible Picture Book reference for you.

Look familiar?

I referenced it in this scene in Chivalry.

One of the fun things about the Holkham is that it opens with a discussion between a friar who has commissioned the work and the artist. The friar admonishes the artist to do a good job on the project because it will be shown to important people. And the artist responds, "Indeed, I certainly will and, if God lets me live, never will you see another such book."

He wasn't kidding.

You can see the entire manuscript HERE.

Sponsored by my Patreon. Thank you.

#chivalry #neilgaiman #neil gaiman #darkhorsecomics #dark horse comics #illuminated manuscript #medieval art #medieval manuscripts #watercolor #watercolor art #king arthur #arthuriana #arthurian legend #sir galahad

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withoutyouimsaskia · 23 days ago

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Sometimes It's Fated (Sandman Short Story Part 8)

GIF: Originally posted by @darklinsblog

Pairing: Morpheus/Dream of the Endless x AFAB reader

Summary: Reader Self-Insert. After restoring the Dreaming and locating the missing dreams and nightmares, Morpheus turns his attention to finding you, the human he believes fate has chosen for him. (Title inspired by Placebo's "This Picture".)

Warnings: Minors DNI. Dark!Morpheus. Soulmates. Angst. Obsessive and possessive behaviour. Nightmares. Violence. Dub/non con. Kissing. Nudity. AFAB + AMAB penetrative sex. Unprotected sex. Plot related cigarette use. Language.

Word Count: 4.3k

A/N: Hello there! I wasn't intending on posting this chapter until I had the others finished but I guess Tumblr took that decision away from me and published instead of saving! Oh well, guess I'll roll with it. As always, I hope you enjoy and would be very happy to hear your thoughts. All my love, Saskia xx

Sandman Masterlist

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The combination of the darkened clouds and the even more desaturated décor is making the room despairingly claustrophobic.

Sporadic breaths rattle up and down your trachea; a remnant of the fear that had been created by the tail end of that conversation. You are struggling to make sense of the direction it had taken; the barrelling downward spiral whereby you discovered your newfound status.

No longer do you hold the lone title of soulmate. You are a captive.

At least that's what Morpheus made it sound like. The word is shudder inducing and a fresh trickle of bile spills into your mouth.

The door he left through, the one blocking your freedom, you are standing close enough to it that you can see every grain and groove of the ebony wood - and the curious absence of a handle or lock. With a flattened hand you gingerly press against the varnished surface, upping the pressure when you don't appear to have tripped any alarms. There's no movement no matter how hard you push, not that you really anticipated any. Morpheus said locked in for a reason. Regardless, you feel that you needed to try just in case he had changed his mind. Again, an eventuality that you do not expect.

You get the sense that Morpheus' grasp of stubbornness would rival that belonging to a group of at least 100,000 people; he is a ruler, and a centuries-old one at that. Accustomed to being in control, well versed in the art of exerting it.

He's chilling too. That nightmare quality really won out just now. You have seen darkness in his eyes before, (brought on by intense moments including sexual desire) and the effects he can have on the environments surrounding him, but this was a whole new breed.

The deflection. The disdain. The remorselessness. How the shadows had danced around him like crude oil twisting in water, a cloak of obscurity and energy to drive you away and leave you isolated.

And your relentlessness was the catalyst for it being unleashed. You're unsure as to why you brought up the theoretical consequences of refusing to be his soulmate. It had just slipped out. There were numerous other ways in which you could have handled the situation yet that was the conversational path you took.

You shudder again, wrapping your arms around your middle in an attempt to self-soothe. It provides a measure of relief but also draws attention to the fact that he should be doing this. Morpheus should be holding you. Talking this through with you.

Instead he left you standing on the marble floor, the intrinsically endothermic nature of the material causing iciness to seep up your legs via your bare feet.

Seeking warmth, you move back to the bed and dejectedly lie down.

The usual covered plate of food has appeared on the bedside table; your expression is so obviously rattled that you can see every detail despite the metal's distortion. You roll over, not wanting to contemplate eating for even a second.

Your entire body is tense, with epicentres in your tight chest and thought-clogged brain, the latter of which is showing signs of inducing a migraine. You breathe with steady intent, a review of the encounter relentlessly replaying.

One question keeps rising to the surface, getting louder and more insistent with each iteration:

Why was he doing this?

He had said it was to protect you. That it was dangerous outside. Was the dream world suddenly that different now that you had free will? Surely he would have led with that if it were true. Found a way to make it safe...

He's been unfalteringly devoted to you in every other way thus far. The aftercare looked to be proof enough of his character. The reassurance, and explanations during the soul-tying. Holding you. Staying beside you while you slept, even though he did not require the rest himself.

But then there is the distinct lack of sharing, both of his internal and external worlds, and of course the 'it is not your place to do so' comment.

That one really stings. You had been convinced that you were his equal. Yet the way the words fell so easily from his mouth, without hesitation nor any sign of an underpinning emotion - it sounded like a response that was not uttered in the heat of the moment.

How were you to know though?

You've not known him for that long and it's not like you can tell from the bond between you, even now after days of longing to and trying to pick up on something, anything that would inform you of his heart. The one thing you can attempt to read into is the state of the ceiling sky; you are getting a sense that it is linked directly to his moods. Its sudden deterioration the moment you had voiced your concerns couldn't have been a coincidence, could it?

The more you grapple for meaning, the harder you are finding it to reconcile the evidence before you, so conflicted on your opinion of him, of the situation. Yet no amount of speculation and reframing could take away from the few facts you have:

The Fates had told you of an unfathomably long imprisonment that Morpheus had endured and suffered in.

So why was he putting you in a parallel of that?

How can someone who is supposed to be your soulmate be so unreadable to you, and so inexplicably cruel?

You curl into a ball, groaning out loud in frustration.

You ponder if there is something defective within you, if he can see something that you are too human to perceive. Maybe you deserve this on some level because you are not quite enough for him.

"No," you say out loud, firmly casting that contemptuous thought out of your mind.

You will not go in for self-loathing or self-pity. You are strong and capable and compassionate. Morpheus is still your soulmate. You can fix this. Once he's back, you will talk about this.

The resolution seems to lessen the lingering despair enough that you unwittingly fall asleep.

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There's an anticipatory undercurrent to the chatter being passed back and forth across the circular tables spaced evenly across the function room.

You're sat at one such table, the hands folded in your lap occasionally brushing against the heavy dark blue velvet draped over the wood, the feel of the material's sumptuous pile triggering pleasant goosebumps.

Ice laden water jugs and bowls of savoury snacks occupy the middle of the table, and each seat is designated by a placeholder. Your name is displayed in a bold font across the folded piece of stiff card in front of you and the names of all your colleagues have been typed out on matching markers.

The lighting could be described as ambient, moody even - a strange choice for such a celebratory event. The strongest source of light is directed towards a projection screen, where the order of events are being presented.

You thumb the lock screen button on the right hand side of your phone to check the time. 20:28. The scheduled break is due to end soon. You take a sip of water from the tumbler stamped with your lipstick and wait.

The microphone on the podium clicks and crackles as it is brought back to life and all heads turn in unison towards the man standing there. A spotlight provided by the professional lighting rig suspended above is ignited, the light from it so bright that it obscures every feature on his face.

His tone is light as he reels off a few formalities, making a joke about the speed of which some individuals had headed to the bar come the start of the interval, eliciting a sequence of throaty laughs from the crowd. He then jumps back into the award giving.

"This person, I know for a fact has really been putting in the effort with developing the traits required to truly embody this accolade and everything it stands for. Taking gullible to the next level, allowing themself to be debased and shutting down all logical reasoning. A veritable inspiration of inconsequentiality; therefore, it comes as no surprise that the award for most worthless human goes to -"

He pauses for effect, and the entire room watches on with baited breath.

Condensation beads slip down the outside of the jug closest to you, mirroring a perspiration bead that has begun to slide from your nape. You look away from the stage, feeling an impending sense of doom slink into your stomach with the nausea that suddenly washes over you. Your intuition is well-founded.

The microphone wheezes as the man inhales the breath needed to deliver the announcement.

He says your name.

The applause that follows is rapturous; a chorus of hollers and whistles punctuating the clapping. It's like you're at a rock concert.

None of it aligns with the damning description of the award name. Under no circumstance do you want to go and accept it; doing so would show that you agree with the committee.

You sneak a glance over your shoulder, wincing at the harsh fluorescents spilling in from the foyer through the set of double doors - that is where you quietly need to get to.

You're pushing your chair back slowly and carefully, about to attempt this surreptitious exit when a spotlight hits you. The hand going for your bag freezes mid-reach.

It's as if a tractor beam has been activated. You cannot stop yourself from standing, cannot stop yourself from walking on the scuffed wooden floor, made that way from years of dancing.

The journey to the stage on your shaky legs is long, given your distance from it, intensified even further by the stares of your peers. You go up the steps at the side of the stage, jelly legs adding risk with the slight elevation. You grip the handrail in a white-knuckled fist.

The award waits on the podium: an oversized key on a black plinth, the golden colour of the metal glints temptingly. With your gaze turned downwards, the man shakes your hand with the pressure of a constrictor, praising you with words that you can't hear above the continued applause.

You force your mouth into a smile and ready yourself to take the award, telling yourself that being gracious is the best approach you can take.

Unfortunately, in your moment of acceptance, someone decides to take advantage.

There's a blow to the back of your knee caps.

You cry out from shock and pain; the sound doesn't last long for as soon as your knees make impact with the boards, a gag is forced into your mouth.

The situation and the gag make it hard to breathe in any way other than frantically, pulse just as agitated in your tight-feeling chest.

The crowd's clapping doesn't stop even as intricate restraints are added at your wrists, even as burning tears and sticky snot stream down your face.

The agony intensifies when you are hauled up by your hair and then herded by several pairs of hands towards the wings of the stage. Your eyes fall on the opaque box that stands just out of view of the crowd.

Its purpose is clear. It is to be your cage.

You're now screaming despite the gag, thrashing as you're dragged towards your doom. Not even allowing yourself to be a dead weight can save you; the cloying fingers are too numerous, too zealous.

The door to the cage opens and the presence of the oppressive void within ekes out towards you like a disturbing fog. Whatever is in there, you can sense it will smother you. Obliterate you slowly. And the people in this room seem to believe you are worthy of such a fate.

The hands anchored on your body begin their last pushes. You whip your head around, making a last attempt to search for an escape when you see a figure out the corner of your eye.

There's no questioning who it is; the person who has been on the periphery of so many dreams these past weeks, you would know him anywhere.

You see a glimpse of movement. Perhaps the raising of a hand. A ripple of power courses through the scene - you feel it vibrate in your chest. Everything freezes, and in that sudden silence you hear Morpheus' solemn and decisive words:

"This dream is over."

You startle, a shriek echoing about the sunless space as you are ripped from the dream. The sheets have you wrapped up like a python; you try with desperation to get free, half-convinced that those relentless hands are still trying to ferry you into that cage.

Floundering, you work and work against the fabric, crying out again when your progress is minimal.

"Soulmate."

Morpheus' deep voice sounds, speaking your name next in such an intimate and gentle way that you instantly halt in your struggle.

He is beside you.

All the attributes of concern are in his facial expression and body language, eyes glistening with an emotion you can't quite place.

"It is over now," he confirms, dissolving the sheet into nothing.

He comes closer, stroking your face with one hand, the other atop your chest with the palm centred on your soul. It's a welcome feeling, his attentions and being free from the tangle of sheets, but you are too far gone for it to stop the fear that the nightmare has set in motion.

"When you said that it was not my place to accompany you, is it because you think I'm less than you?" You ask in a cracking, pitiful voice.

Morpheus stills for a heartbeat, before bending his head to look you straight in the eyes. "No," he breathes. "My soulmate, I could never think that."

He kisses you softly.

It's not what you expected but nevertheless your hands cling to him on instinct, kissing him back and then he's suddenly straddling you. Covering your body with his own to give you a feeling of safety and it's exactly what you require.

You're on the verge of tears from it all, touching the back of his neck, gripping his shoulders to keep him close.

"Morpheus," you call.

"I am here. I am not going anywhere."

He kisses you deeper this time as if to corroborate his statement. It incrementally lessens your doubts and anxieties but there's a call for communication too.

"We need to talk about what happened," you say with quiet assertion.

For a moment, you wonder if he has even heard you for he claims your mouth again.

"I do not wish to talk," he eventually replies, immediately diving back in for yet another kiss. "I wish to take away your anguish."

"But -"

He hushes you, a soothing shut down that would be infuriating if not for the lingering unease of the nightmare clogging your emotions. "Let us forget what was said. Let us instead indulge in the pleasure of each other's bodies."

You blink, slowly processing his explicit inference, taken aback by the very obvious physical reactions they inspire. You force yourself to adopt a professional expression as your arousal begins to leak onto your gown.

"I want to talk to you."

He's smiling smugly as he tilts his head to the side. "Your emotions betray you dearest, as does your body. I know exactly what you want and it is not conversation."

Shame rises but is quickly blotted out by Morpheus' next action.

You feel bare skin against yours; he's used his power to disrobe you as well as him. A protest forms - he stifles it with his mouth. Your eyes are wide as you take it, as he shifts his weight ever so slightly to align your hips.

His own eyes stare you down after he pulls back, unblinking like an apex predator who has caught sight of its favourite prey.

Easy prey.

That's what you are.

He arranges you as such too; grasping your legs and moving your knees to your chest to bend you in half. Pinning you underneath him.

Neither of you last long with the tightness of the angle once you allow him to enter you.

To say you are dazed afterwards would be an understatement. The events of the past few hours have been persistently erratic. If Morpheus feels the same then it isn't apparent. The colour of his eyes are as clear and stable as the weather above, hand warming his favoured spot on your chest.

Your own hands wander up and down his body, running smoothly over his enticing skin.

"You have not touched your food," he comments quietly.

One of your palms moves absentmindedly to trail lazily across your abdomen. "If I'm being honest, I've been struggling to eat since I got here. For some reason I have no appetite or thirst."

"That would be a result of the immortality."

Your hands freeze up, brain doing the opposite as it spins out in a hundred directions.

"W-what did you say?" You stammer, praying you have misheard him.

"The immortality," he clarifies. "My power is within you and with it, comes certain endurances."

You sit up and put some space between you both. This was a serious matter. Despite your empty stomach you feel like you are going to vomit.

"How long have you known that?"

"It does not matter."

Red rag to a bull doesn't come close to covering what his dismissive reply makes you feel. The set of your jaw is so tight that a section on the left side begins to feather. You talk through gritted teeth, levelling a furious glare at him - making it transparent that you are not going to tolerate his evasiveness any longer:

"Tell me how long."

He makes the smart decision to pause to select his reply, though you decipher from the suddenly overcast sky that it is not going to be one that you will like.

"Since our souls joined."

Your hand flies to your chest, to your soul as tears start to brew.

"That was days ago!"

Morpheus simply looks at you.

"Did you not think that I had a right to know about something as life changing as that?"

He opens his mouth to respond but you cut him off before he can issue a syllable.

"Please can you give me some time alone?"

Morpheus' intense stare - the one that had gone from intimidating to exhilarating - has now become distressing and you need to get out from under it.

To his credit, he does what you asked and the moment the door is closed, the tears you have been holding back start to flow freely. The ceiling sky is so crowded with dark clouds that you are convinced that it's going to do the same as your eyes.

You feel like you've been tricked. You didn't ask for this, nor were you consulted.

The gilding has fully tarnished now, revealing that things were too good to be true. And had been from the very beginning. You had been swept up in the haze of sexual satisfaction, too blinded by the soul bond to see clearly. The nightmare had spelled it out flawlessly: gullible, debased and without logical reasoning.

The previous success in derailing your self-loathing falls short now. You are bolting down the path of internal admonishment.

How could you have been so naïve?

The answer is your hubris. It had felt good to be finally wanted, chosen to be a part of something bigger than yourself by making a difference to the Dreaming. Unless you had misunderstood.

No, the Fates had told you it in no uncertain terms. What they hadn't done however was provide a time frame. You had stupidly assumed it would be effective immediately. Instead you could be looking at decades, centuries even with this newfound information.

Even with the promise of eventual fulfilment, there was little chance that you would last for years in this room with your sanity intact.

You need distraction from the demoralising thought so you bluster through your bathroom routine like a whirlwind, slamming containers down where possible and huffing out exasperated sounds.

While the gown has re-materialised on the hook by the shower, you are dead set against putting it back on. You go to the bedside table and dive into the drawers to find your clothes from the night of the award ceremony, uncovering the cigarettes and lighter you forgot had been hidden there.

You don't even think before lighting one up, hoping that the nicotine will take the edge off your despair. You are quick to finish it and the clarity it brings encourages you to have a second. And then a third.

From the combination of your reclined position on the sheets and the dainty way you hold each cigarette, you can't help but feel like a 1940s starlet. It injects a bit of delirious humour, and also gumption into the mix.

"You are not at fault here," you whisper out loud. "He is the one who has an understanding of how soulmates work. He withheld that. You are allowed to be pissed off with him and you should let him see it."

-----------------------------

By the time Morpheus returns, you are in full possession of your wits and sit perched at the foot of the bed. You regard each other; he appears a touch drawn out, eyes subdued and a small line marking the space between his eyebrows.

"You have been smoking," he states flatly.

Buoyed by the confidence gifted to you by said activity, you inhale the scent of the lingering bluish fog, flashing a sardonic smile as you audibly breathe out, labouring the point with the pleasurable sigh.

"What else was I supposed to do while I waited for you to come back?" You cross your legs and smooth out a non-existent wrinkle in the bedclothes you meticulously rearranged.

The effects of your sarcasm are immediate; the air is becoming ominously dense, threatening to unleash a storm of epic proportions. Morpheus' fists clench and the pressure is dampened a fraction.

"Give them to me," he asks in a monotone.

"No."

Your connection is so devoid of dissonance at this point. Morpheus is stone carved. The kind of impenetrable that would shred and destroy finger nails; there is no point in trying to claw your way to the being beneath. The apathy sends your anger to new heights, compelling that shamefully vindictive part of you into lashing out. You want to hurt him just as he has hurt you.

"They're the only thing I have left from my real life."

A lethal quality seeps into his reply, "That life ended the moment you stepped out onto that street."

"Well then I should have run from you that night," you provoke further, tone biting as glacial ice on exposed skin.

The same shadows from before are crowding about his person, settling in his eyes - a tell that you have unleashed the nightmare form. You have to actively remind yourself to breathe at an even pace. All things you had queued up to say to him are long gone as you gaze upon his dark majesty.

"Even if you had been able to evade me, hide your physical body, I would have found you the moment you fell asleep."

The tether on his control slips as a single bolt of lightning turns the room to a white-out. The thunder never comes, instead the rumble of his voice.

"Do not think that I had not anticipated a refusal. I was more than prepared to use force to get what I wanted. What I was promised. I will not share you with anyone. You are mine. My soulmate. You -"

He stops unexpectedly and head snapping to look at the door.

You roll your eyes. "Let me guess, something requires your attention."

He takes in a deep breath. "I will return shortly."

You watch sullenly as he leaves you behind yet again, about to resume smoking when you feel an urge to re-examine the door. It is as pointless as before; no handle nor locks. Your fists hit the mahogany once, then twice before your composure fully deteriorates and you begin to hammer on it. Not because you are hoping to snag someone's awareness, for you heard it from Morpheus that no one could find this place. Sadly, you do it because you are losing hope.

Dejection momentarily quelled, you resort to staring at the door with such concentration that you fear it may trigger another headache.

"How the fuck do you work?" You ask it.

If there is no tangible way of holding it then that left the metaphysical as its locking mechanism. Metaphysical power that came from him - that now resided in you.

Maybe you could use it to break out...

You huff out a laugh at your optimism. There is no harm in trying.

Decision made, you make a quick trip to the bathroom to get the ruby ring you put by the sink. There's no chance you're escaping and leaving a beloved family heirloom behind.

You walk confidently to the door and plant yourself a forearm's length from it. The gold of the ring glimmers on your right hand as your press your palm to the glossy wood.

You do not want to be the person you were in the nightmare; forced into a box-encased void and cut off from the universe. You want to learn, to experience, to love. You want to have dreams and you're willing to make them with or without their master.

You are going to get out of here.

-----------------------------

Tag list: @herfantasyworldd @kpopgirlbtssvt @littleblackcatinwonderland @1950schick @lollipopsandlandmines

"I'm walking down the line that divides me somewhere in my mind. On the borderline of the edge, and where I walk alone."

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lenetaylor · 6 months ago

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John Lennon's collage "for" Paul

I was very curious about the collage image going around tumblr (e.g., here, here, and here) that was identified as being made "for Paul" and titled "I Only Have Eyes for You", and done by John Lennon "at art school". Here it is; I scanned this from Julian Lennon's book Beatles Memorabilia: The Julian Lennon Collection (by Brian Southall and Julian Lennon, 2010)

You can see that Paul has written at the bottom "J.L. Collage - To Julian - love Paul x".

The book caption reads

A distinct and original collage of faces and bodies dedicated to Julian from Paul. It was created by John and given to Paul.

But the first time this previously unseen collage surfaced was in 2000. It was included in a show held by artist Peter Blake at the Tate Liverpool, called About Collage.

An article in The Independent at the time says

A John Lennon collage never seen in public is to feature in an exhibition that opens 30 years ago to the day the Beatles split... Lennon's collage, done at art school in the 1950s, comprises faces and figures cut from magazines, and features a number of eyes and lips pasted on images of girls. Blake said: "The style tied in with my Sgt Pepper's album cover, which was simply a more organised version, with bigger heads." Natalie Rudd, who helped curate the exhibition, said: "No one really knows much about Lennon's collage. … It has no title and is rather dark, with a lot of black and red and we can only guess at what he was trying to say."

In this 2009 Guardian article, Blake says,

By then I knew that Paul McCartney owned a collage that John Lennon had done, so I borrowed that. Paul also made a sound collage of Liverpool, and he made an artwork too.

Another quote from Eye Magazine in 2000:

He hopes to borrow an unseen art school collage by John Lennon, owned by Paul McCartney.

There was a book produced to accompany the show, called Peter Blake: About Collage (2000). The collage is reproduced in the book:

The credit reads "John Lennon 1940-1980, Untitled, late 1950s, Paper collage, 970 x 675mm, Private Collection". It does not have the handwritten note by Paul at the bottom.

Peter Blake's comments say:

I have followed Paul McCartney's career as an artist, so when About Collage emerged, I suggested that he made a collage, perhaps from sound, which he has pursued. John Lennon made a collage at art school during the late 1950s which is included in the show.

Paul did make a sound collage for the show, and released it as an album called Liverpool Sound Collage; some of it is on YouTube. (There used to be a website for it, long gone now, but you can see bits of it at the Internet Archive). Here's his artwork, titled The World, mentioned by Blake above (the central image is a back and white photo of Jerry Lewis):

So, to summarize:

The collage does NOT have an official title. I don't know where the "I Only Have Eyes for You" title came from

It's not clear that the collage was made for Paul specifically, only that it was given to Paul, date unknown

It's not clear if the collage Paul gave to Julian is the original or a copy

It seems unlikely that it was made at art school, as some of the images are of women in classically mid-1960s clothes and hairstyles. The only source for the date of composition seems to be Paul

It's not stated who gave the collage to Paul - it might have been John, but it could easily have been Julia or Yoko (or even Cyn?)

Paul's artwork was NOT made for John

PS. I looked through the book Paul McCartney: Paintings but the collage isn't mentioned.

PPS. I tried doing some image searches on the clearer photos of women in the collage, but got no results. Perhaps someone else will have better luck.

#john lennon #paul mccartney #the beatles #collage

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emilystheories · 3 months ago

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How HOFAS set up

Nesta Archeron to be High Queen of Prythian.

A theory.

ACOTAR and CC3 spoilers ahead.

[art by Gabrielle Ragusi]

A connection to Theia.

In HOFAS, we finally learn about Theia; the original High Queen of Prythian.

Interestingly, Queen Theia was depicted as holding and wearing the Dread Trove items — this was a symbol of her rule.

Evidently, this is just like Nesta.

[art by mistilteinnart]

We also witness Theia’s backstory: that she stood next to the Daglan’s throne, serving at their side “for a century.”

This is near identical to the vision Lanthys (a confirmed Daglan member) showed Nesta in ACOSF. That just like Theia, Nesta could serve at the side of the Daglan, and ensure their rule.

Interestingly, Lanthys even refers to Nesta as “Queen of Queens.”

And, just as Queen Theia used the Dread Trove to overthrow the Daglan, so too did Nesta, when she used Ataraxia (part of the “new” Dread Trove) to slay Lanthys.

The parallels between the two are stark.

[art by luverihu]

Gwydion.

In the past, I had theorised that Bryce Quinlan would be High Queen of Prythian; that she was the most eligible to rule, given her Starborn lineage, and her possession of Gwydion — the sword of the High King and Queen.

This was actually canon (or at least heavily implied). Bryce could indeed claim the High Queen title.

But, she didn’t.

Instead, Bryce handed Gwydion to Nesta, citing the importance of Nesta’s tattoo: the eight-pointed star, and the symbol of the Starborn Fae.

Nesta is now the owner of Gwydion; the sword of the High King and High Queen of Prythian.

The royal sword.

Passed on from one queen to the next.

[art by nearixx]

But, that’s not Nesta’s only claim to the throne.

As mentioned previously, in ACOSF, Nesta forged her own blades — a new Dread Trove.

Amren looked at Nesta’s ‘Made’ weapons and declared that if Rhys used them, he could “set himself up as High King.”

That each of these blades, including Ataraxia, is a “kingmaker.”

But the blades don’t belong to Rhys.

They belong to Nesta.

[art by gessueter]

In fact, the 'Made' weapons actively resisted Rhys’s presence.

Which brings us to another hint…

Rhys vs Nesta.

Some argue that Rhys has the greatest claim to High King of Prythian. Given his lineage (and what was revealed in HOFAS), they may be right.

It’s almost as if SJM is setting up both Nesta and Rhys as potential rulers.

A High Queen vs High King.

This is in line with what is said in HOFAS; that a Fae Queen vs a Fae King rivalry is “history repeating itself.”

Perhaps this is why SJM is continuing the rivalry and tension between Nesta and Rhys, despite them making amends towards the end of ACOSF.

[art by book_s150]

This is further exemplified in the HOFAS (Ember and Randall) bonus chapter.

We see Nesta making decisions on her own (to give the Mask to Bryce) without consulting Rhys or anyone else.

We see Nesta declare that she doesn’t answer to Rhys or Feyre.

And Ember watches on as Rhys assesses the “challenge” in Nesta’s expression — that to Rhys, Nesta is a “worthy opponent.”

But, as SJM typically likes to write about women coming into power, I believe Nesta will win the High Queen title at the end of the day.

After all, Nesta has been repeatedly foreshadowed as a queen throughout the entire series. Feyre even refers to Nesta as a “queen without a throne.”

[art by natserpiece]

However, I don’t think Nesta will come into the High Queen position randomly. Instead, two things have to occur:

Something bad needs to happen to the entirety of Prythian (perhaps whatever Koschei has planned…), causing a last-resort need for a queen to unite under.

Or, tensions with the Inner Circle will continue to grow, and Nesta will leave the Night Court.

But, where would Nesta go?

The Dusk Court.

Or, what is otherwise known as the Prison Island.

Which in HOFAS, was explicitly said to be a “royal territory.”

And was regarded as the “sanctuary” of the High Queen.

That is to say, Nesta being both High Lady of Dusk and High Queen isn’t just a pipe dream.

Canonically, it’s suggested to be the same thing.

(Fun possibility #1: perhaps the Dusk Court will be ‘removed’ from Prythian and will gain independence— that way, Nesta will be High Lady and Queen of Dusk, and Rhysand, or someone else, will be King of Prythian).

Thematically, it makes sense.

As we know, the courts of Prythian are thematically organised, and work in tandem with their opposing courts.

Summer and Winter.

Autumn and Spring.

Night and Day.

Which leaves, Dawn and Dusk.

The Dawn Court is associated with healing powers. To further corroborate this, firstlight (in the Crescent City world) has the capacity to heal.

‘First light’ means dawn.

In the Crescent City world, the opposite of ‘firstlight’ is ‘secondlight’ — the power made upon someone’s death.

If the opposite of dawn (firstlight, healing) is dusk (secondlight…?), does this mean that the Dusk Court is associated with death?

It would make sense: dawn signals the start of the day and new beginnings, whereas dusk signals the end.

And whose powers most closely align with death?

Nesta Archeron’s.

The court of the Valkyries, too.

If this theory is true, I have no doubt that the Valkyries will follow Nesta to the Dusk Court as well, setting up their own domain, completely separate to the Illyrians.

This likely explains the pegasus foreshadowing in ACOSF, as the pegasus’s originated from the Dusk Court.

[art by kelly.vieir.a]

I also believe that the Valkyries will expand their ranks, not only recruiting more priestesses, but also:

Merrill: with her “twilight” coloured eyes (twilight is another word for dusk).

Mor: whose family once owned the Dusk Court, long ago (also lending itself to a Mor x Emerie book).

And another important connection: Bryce Quinlan.

With the introduction of “thin places,” HOFAS made clear that Avallen Island and the Prison Island (Dusk Court) are innately connected, despite being worlds apart.

If Bryce is in Avallen, then it makes sense that Nesta is residing on the Prison Island — side by side.

And, as Bryce still has the Horn on her back (coupled with Nesta having the Harp), perhaps their friendship will continue.

(Fun possibility #2: No one is more connected to the pegasus’s than Bryce, and I can’t see her passing up the opportunity to join an all-female, pegasus-led warrior group. Perhaps a cameo is in store…).

[art by paint faery]

In conclusion:

All hail Queen Nesta Archeron.

[art by artinelysian]

#acotar theory #acotar #nesta archeron #pro nesta #pro nesta archeron #high queen nesta #sjm multiverse #crescent city #sjm theory

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hopefull-mindset · 10 months ago

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Design Analysis: Kouyou Ozaki

Have you ever wondered why everyone has assumed Kouyou to be a courtesan or brothel owner when there has been no specification in the main series?

First, there is the fact she refers to herself using “wacchi” (わっち), a pronoun that had been used by Geisha and Oiran alike in the Edo Period. Second is that, while she doesn’t have as many layers or hair ornaments, her large Obi is still tied at the front, and wears a Uchikake over her kimono. An Uchikake by itself is not an indicator, but I would think she has it to accentuate what she’s meant to resemble.

An Oiran is a general term for a high-ranking courtesan who has taken up some traditional arts and refined in their entertainment skills, putting them above the common prostitute. The term “Oiran” (花魁) means “flower leader”. It was said to be used by Kamuro and Shinzo to refer to the older courtesans and eventually became their title. It is theorized to come from the phrase "oira no tokoro no nēsan" (おいらの所の姉さん), but there is no exact and official origin of why they’re referred to as such.

They are exclusive because of their price ranges and the highest ranking had a degree of choice in who they had in their company. They get confused with Geisha often because of their similar skill sets and when you don’t know what you’re looking for visually, but in addition, this is mostly the fault of the Occupation of Japan with many coupling both of them into what they’d call “Geesha Girls” and mistaking Geishas for prostitutes. Many even called themselves a Geisha to bring in business, but Geisha’s legally couldn’t promote sex (that didn’t stop them though sometimes if they needed the cash). They are not distinctive only because one of them can practice sex work and the other cannot. Besides my previous comments on accessories, layering, and their distinctive Obi, Oirans have more extravagant coloring and designs on their clothing.

Not to be confused with the Tayū, whom Oiran had taken after in their clothing. Tayū are not as relevant in pop culture, so do not worry about trying to tell the difference in fictional media because they’re 100% going to be an Oiran unless specified. If you would like to learn more about Tayū and not look at confusing wiki pages, I recommend reading these: Karyukai Workers and Roles, The Look of Oiran Versus Tayuu, and this nice video about a modern day Tayū.

While Shinzo are the new debuting girls late into their training, a stage before that is the Kamuro. Kamuro are young girls sold by their parents to either pay off debts or have fewer mouths to feed, and some were even born into it. On the surface, the deal of their daughter becoming someone so luxurious was desirable and made it easier for them to give her away, but not all of them got that life and had to fight for that position. Kamuro were put under the care of senior courtesans who would teach them the skills they’d need while Kamuro did their chores for them. Kamuro were also considered a social marker of how rich the courtesan was to be able to provide for these girls, but they were limited to only caring for two. It was an exploitative and abusive industry that groomed them into this life. These girls can’t leave because they’re stuck to a never-ending contract that they need to pay off in their work because of the costs of their living, so competition for the top spot wasn’t only for the idealized life promised, but to get a higher paying customer to pay off their contract to escape.

Kouyou’s backstory is heart-wrenching in this context. We don’t have details of how she ended up there or the rest of what happened, but you can’t deny the resemblance between the life of a young girl in the red light district trying to escape her conditions with a man who has promised her freedom and Kouyou wanting to live in the light outside of the Port Mafia’s unlivable darkness with someone who wanted to show her that. Along the same lines, Kyouka can be seen as a Kamuro that Kouyou has taken under her wing and wanted to leave herself. Granted, using sexual favors is manipulation 101 and she could’ve learned this anywhere, but it would make sense if she had learned this from Kouyou as a courtesan. Kamuro weren’t ignorant of what their “Older Sisters” did.

There are many differences between the life of these girls and the bloody one Kouyou had lived in the Port Mafia, and it’s not as if I’m implying she had lived the life they did as we don’t know much, but the similarities can’t be just coincidence. As for “brothel owner”, the Yakuza unsurprisingly stick their nose into the sex work business, so it wouldn’t be too hard to assume Kouyou was looking over these things.

Side comment: “Ane-san” is old-fashioned, so the only time you’ll see it be used instead of just “Ane” or “Onee-san” is in a historical context, or with the Yakuza to refer to the upper echelon female members.

(I refuse to use something not from mayoi, bones art… is ugly)

Kouyou’s crimson hair comes from her name “紅葉”, which can be translated to “Red (Autumn) Leaf”, or roughly “Crimson Blade”. It’s referred to as crimson in the light novels, but we all want to call it deep pink. Either way, both colors are deep-seated in love and she wears it all over. Her uchikake starts light at the top and deepens the lush cherry blossom pink into a bloody red where it drags at the floor with trailing bellflowers (or some type of thin petaled bellflower). Her inner kimono is pure black, except at her shoulder where only a piece of pink is left, and at the bottom are prominent red spider lilies. Their color is emphasized with a transitioning dark shade of purple.

Red spider lilies are infamous because of their connotation with death, but there’s more to it. They’re considered “hell flowers” and could lead the dead to reincarnation. Used in funerals, legends say that seeing someone you will never meet again will have these flowers bloom in your path. They’re flowers that bloom in autumn and the meanings they have are: painful memories, abandonment, passion, independence, giving up, longing, and “never to meet again”.

Kouyou is a mournful soul whose past has never left her, especially in the face of confronting Kyouka’s choice. For these flowers to appear in the inner darkness of her design is significant to how deeply his death had affected her, but also the abandonment of what she regards as her “born nature”. That man had wanted to show her light but had only contributed to the growing darkness that she wasn’t allowed to escape. She had died that day with him, and could only keep walking in the flower field of death she had created. It’s only the piece of light on her shoulder that is left of her past self.

Now, the bellflowers on her uchikake can mean: Loyalty, gratitude, faithful, unchanging, honesty, and discipline.

If the Port Mafia had once been a place of terror and misery, then Mori had changed that for her and made the Port Mafia her home. She is forever grateful for what he has done to make this life livable again and dawns this flower gracefully with light colors. She chooses to wear these light colors over her kimono because even if she resents the hypocrisy of the people who can live in the light without criticism, she still wants some semblance of that dream after her soul has been blackened to that gain. Harukawa, when designing these characters, keeps in mind what organization and type of person they are when color coding them. It’s also with the understanding of what shades will appear darker and lighter in the manga style. Harukawa says that she made sure to give Kouyou light colors and kept her eye from being dark to signify that she’s a good person.

In the manga, her outfit is slightly different from the anime’s design. Her uchikake is paler and does not have any flowers on it, and the flowers on her kimono are much more... vague, so if there are better candidates than my guesses, then be my guest and throw me a bone. From the silhouettes, I will assume that the largest visible flower is a water lily and/or lotus and the flowers growing on the branches are sakura blossoms and/or plum blossoms. It’s fitting considering she is introduced with sakura blossoms falling around her, but they could be plum blossoms too as “花魁” can refer to them in some cases.

Water lilies and Lotus flowers are very recognizable, and I’m sure most of you have seen them around. Their meaning of “purity of heart” comes from how wild water lilies will usually be white. Similarly, lotus flowers are seen as pure because they can bloom in mud without staining themselves. Other meanings water lilies are given are: Rebirth, trust, faith, and kindness. With lotus flowers, they are: Rebirth (again), “to change someone’s mind”, “eases suffering (of the heart)”, and resilience.

Ignoring the meaning of faith and trust since we had already gone over it with the bellflowers, both possible flowers emphasize her good nature and the renewal of life that Mori had blessed her with. Mori had eased the mindless suffering caused by the old boss and changed her mind about what the Port Mafia was to her. She pushed through the muddy waters of the old boss’s darkness and stood her place well in her strength.

Sakura blossoms and plum blossoms introduce two different meanings in their symbolic usage. Plum blossoms bloom in the winter cold in the signal of spring coming, showing the prosperity of life in the hardest of conditions, while sakura blossoms remind us of life’s impermanence and that its beauty can only last for so long. Plum blossoms also can mean: elegance, nobleness, patience, loyalty, hope, and renewal. If these are Sakura blossoms, then they can mean: renewal (again), violence, and hope (again).

In the context of these flowers appearing on her kimono, they mean something different than the renewal of a new era Mori had brought. The remark at the beginning of chapter 17 gives us a personal meaning for Kouyou to what sakura flowers are to her. They are the blooming hope of a girl’s wishes, but they eventually have to drop not long after growing up and facing their reality. Remaining a bud is impossible, so Kouyou, in defiance of this eventual fate of this girl, sees slashing the girl’s heart to be more merciful than the long, doomed drop they all have to face. Kouyou is a bloomed Sakura flower who has already dropped, and her change had started there, not when she bloomed. Even if a part of her had died, she still clings with no real hope.

This is the only image we have of her kimono without anything covering it. This is right at the end of the Guild Arc where they are celebrating their accomplishment. Kouyou sheds her outer bright colors because there is no room for that in this setting and trusts Chuuya and Mori enough to shed any pretenses. They’ve all dressed casually, so she would too. The leaves are meant to be red maple leaves that also show up in the flashback of Kouyou of you look carefully. As I’ve said before, these have to do with her name. The vague firework-like design that shows up are either enlarged spider lilies or chrysanthemum flowers. Assuming these are the white kind, they mean: truth, loyal love, admiration, and sincere heart. However, the yellow kind can mean “slighted love”.

She is sincere inside and out, even if some of that sincerity isn't as pretty as what it looks like from a distance. “A flower that blooms in the dark can only survive within the dark” is a sentiment she lives by after all. If it is a yellow chrysanthemum, then its meaning is what you’d expect from her lonely heart.

Bonus round

Welcome if you have read this far, this is where I stray from her main outfit and talk about outfits that only appear once. This first kimono is what she wore when staying put in the Armed Detective Agency’s capture so that Kyouka would be able to live out a dream she can’t bring herself to live out. The white kimono is covered with columbine flowers. They can mean: risk-taking, good fortune, faith, folly, hope, and specifically for white columbines, “I’m concerned for this person”. Negative/inverse meanings include: The emblem of deceived lovers, ingratitude, and faithlessness.

What this means in Kouyou’s overall situation shouldn’t be too mind-boggling. She is in this room for Kyouka’s sake and is fairly concerned about how this plan of many risks will play out, but has faith in Dazai’s abilities. She is her most stripped version of herself and works with good intentions with Dazai under this idea, so she only wears light. Kouyou though is only left to her thoughts, her own past in that room. She is glad for Kyouka, but it only leaves fear that Atsushi won't be able to live up to something he promised so she ensures that he is committed to helping her into the light and strong in a way that man wasn't able to be.

The second one is from the chapter art with Kouyou and Mori leading Soukoku away from each other. It’s an outfit that reflects her mindset during her time with the old boss, an inverted palette from what she’s currently wearing. She hasn’t fully embraced her environment yet. Unfortunately, almost all of the flowers and plants are a bit too vague for me to point out. There is only one flower I think I recognize on her right sleeve that looks like a bird, and it is called an Egret Orchid. The only meaning of significance here is: “I think of you even in my dreams.” Some sources will say, “My thoughts will follow you into your dreams”, but I think this made more sense in this context.

This sentiment is regarding that man who had told her such an innocent lie. She not only hid her sorrowful, pure yet broken heart inside the guise of flowering darkness but weaponized this sorrow in her violence and climbed the ranks of the Port Mafia. He is a source of regret, hate, and sadness. He is her only semblance of what hope and love could resemble, and it has become a corrupted and negative thing to her in his death. Pure darkness is the only thing can trust for people like her… but she still ponders what that life will be. His influence had never left her, whether it was for better or worse.

—

Alright um

I don’t typically do analysis like this as I don’t find clothing all that interesting to look into, but there is merit to thinking about what a character is wearing even on a surface level. It can be a show of their social rank, their job, their interests, their personalties, their culture, etc. but there isn’t always a deeper meaning to their clothing on a theming sense and I can’t find it in me to usually be interested in doing it myself. In most media, the clothing only indicates the era the characters are from and how marketable they can be.

Luckily, BSD is one of those stories that do put heavy consideration on what the characters are wearing and how their clothing changes overtime for some. Obvious examples include Harukawa’s color pallet consideration to indicate what type of person they are and what organization they are from, Dazai’s clothing swap when he leaves the Port Mafia, Chuuya’s many outfits as show of his growth in belonging to the Port Mafia, the coat passed down from Mori to Dazai to Akutagawa, and the Yin-Yang coloring of Atsushi and Akutagawa that stays consistent even in Beast where they swap.

When doing clothing analysis you’re almost expected to overanalyze and stray into your own interpretations of what certain things mean, when sometimes there isn’t any intended meaning. None of that is a bad thing though! You don’t have to rely on an author or artistic word to analyze a thing, but I tend to have a hard time with just making claims like that. So I picked this concept for Kouyou because I have my own ideas for the thought process behind her design that felt right and find it intriguing enough to share. I had actually asked a friend if I could take her from their hands since they had been planning to do their own clothing analysis, but got stuck. So thank you for letting me steal it!

I’m not a historian or whatever, but I do like sharing what I do know about certain topics! Unexpectedly, this took more out of me than I thought. I’ve written more in a shorter time, but I got stuck with having to write about one certain topic than the character entirely. I will probably never do something like this again, at least not with flower meanings. Who knew how much work it was to actually explain what they mean in context in such a big bunch?

The day I finish that Odasaku analysis is when I’ll read The Golden Demon.

#bungou stray dogs #bsd #kyouka izumi #ozaki kouyou #analysis #bsd analysis #bsd meta #no more…#*looks back at my huge pile of reading I have to do*#FUCKK

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restlessmaknae · 9 months ago

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it's your moment, baby // jung wooyoung

wooyoung + enemies to lovers + "if i do this, do you promise to stop harassing me?" "absolutely not. what kinda sick request is that?"

➳ Characters: dance major!Wooyoung x dance major!female reader/you

➳ Genre: enemies to lovers, college au, arts college au

➳ Words: 3.6k

➳ Warning: mentions of a sprained ankle

➳ A/N: This story was requested by the lovely @stories-inbetween-the-stars for my request event. I hope you enjoy it! ❤️

Also, this story is dedicated to @lily-blue. Happy birthday, Kinga! I thought this story would be up to your liking *-*

Title taken from Dua Lipa's 'Houdini'

➳ Masterlist for the request event

➳ ATEEZ taglist: @dat-town, @tranquilpetrichor, @americanokisses, @kuleo26, @stories-inbetween-the-stars, @wccycc, @littlestartonightsposts, @koishua, @squiishymeow, @s00buwu

You knew that arts college would be difficult because of the general competitive nature of arts, but you would have never expected it to be this difficult because of one extremely annoying guy - Jung Wooyoung.

It didn’t help either that your college friend groups overlapped, and your dorm roommate - Yiren - dated San who was one of Wooyoung’s friends, meaning that you had to see this annoying guy with his annoying shiteating grin at pretty much every social gathering. On the other hand, avoiding the said events just because he was there would have made him think that he had the upper hand in your dynamics, and you didn’t want to give him that pleasure. His ego was already over the top, you didn’t need to pump it up further.

Basically everyone in the dance department knew that you and Wooyoung had some bad blood that had originated back to the orientation week when he had deemed your freestyle hip-hop dance lacking, and you had bit back that he hadn’t done it any better, so he should have shut his mouth. That had happened right in front of the whole dance department and some other new students who were passing by, so news had gotten out pretty quickly.

Egos trampled upon, you had both not forgotten about your little quarrel, so every time you had met afterwards, you had ended up bickering. Once, the teacher had even sent you out of a practice room to talk it out between yourselves instead of disturbing the whole class, that’s just how much you despised each other.

So when Wooyoung came up to you during your second year close to your midterms, asking if you wanted to be his dance partner during the year-end gala, you laughed straight into his face. However, the boy seemed uncharacteristically serious, lips pressed into a thin line as he watched you laugh to your heart’s content.

“Wait… Are you serious?” You quirked an eyebrow, finding his solemnity quite surprising and honestly… pretty pathetic.

Wooyoung let out a sigh, an annoyed one, as if he was doing you a favour by asking you the question.

“I’ve heard your dance partner for the gala sprained his ankle, and mine has to leave early for her study abroad semester, so it would also benefit you,” he stated the obvious which made you snort. Huh, so the news travelled fast enough this time, too.

What could you do though? You hated to admit that he was right, but he was right. Yunho had managed to fall down the stairs with his impossibly long legs, and he had sprained his left ankle. The doctor had said that it would take around four weeks to heal properly, but the gala was six weeks away, and you were suddenly left without a partner. So if you wanted to attend the gala, you needed a partner as soon as possible, and since everyone seemed to be taken already, or doing a solo performance, he was your best chance if you didn’t want to come up with a new choreography.

“If I do this, do you promise to stop harassing me?” You raised an eyebrow challengingly, and for a moment, just for the slightest of a moment, you thought that he could finally give you a break and answer like a normal person would instead of being the pain in the ass that he usually was.

Yet, he didn’t.

“Absolutely not. What kinda sick request is that?” He snickered as if it had been the joke of the century. Now, it was your turn to appear nonchalant, watching as he pulled himself together after his laughing session. “Besides, you have no choice but to choose me. I’m doing you a favour.”

“Huh, as if,” you retorted coldly, unable to admit that you needed him. Just as much as he needed you though. No one was doing a favour this way, right? “We are doing my choreography though,” you added with a shrug of your shoulders, hoping to turn this whole situation against him. After all, he was the one who posed the question, right? That meant that he was more desperate than you.

“Why would we do it though? I have our choreography, too. I bet it’s way better than yours.”

“Oh, please,” you bit out, letting out a huff in disbelief. Afterwards, you gazed at each other in silence, staring at the other with lips tight as if speaking up would mean that you lost, or that you gave in. Nonetheless, you couldn’t give him the satisfaction to give in, you wanted this to be fair. So you proposed:

“Fine, let’s have a vote on it. You get your friends and I get mine, we’ll show them our choreographies and we’ll see which choreography they vote for. I guess you also have a practice video or something like that to show off.”

Wooyoung seemed to be deep in thought after your suggestion - which was a very rare instance in his case -, then cleared his throat.

“Fine,” he breathed out, and you wanted to tease him about speaking up louder because you couldn’t hear him, but he was faster and proposed changing contacts and setting a date and location for the choreography vote. You agreed that it would be best if it was held as soon as possible given the six weeks until the gala, but you needed to contact your friends first. So you left it at that, but promised to get back to the other as soon as you could.

The game was on.

The rules were simple: you could have the same amount of friends and acquaintances present for the voting as the other, so even though Wooyoung said that he could get 12 people to come, you ended up with only 8 who could come on your side, so 8 it was on his, too. Since they could see who was in the video, they knew which choreography was yours and which one was Wooyoung’s, so it wasn’t like a blind voting. However, they had to be as unbiased as possible, and choose the one that they thought would fit you two better.

It ended up being your choreography for Dua Lipa’s Houdini against Wooyoung’s for Charlie Puth and Selena Gomez’s We don’t talk anymore, but everyone agreed that yours would be better, merely because it was more sensual. You didn’t really imagine Wooyoung being the one you would dance that kind of choreography with, you were so focused on winning the vote, but something’s gotta give, right?

On the other hand, when the first dance practice rolled by, you felt like a headache was creeping onto you pretty fast. However, you tried to be as patient as possible, after all, you could see that Wooyoung was hurt by the fact that his choreography wasn’t the chosen one. You tried to ignore most of his comments and focus on teaching him the steps instead of the tangible tension between you two, but it was pretty difficult when he wasn’t making it any easier.

“Please, Wooyoung, just try to act like you feel what the song is about,” you blurted out with your hands on your hips when he turned his face towards the mirror on his left instead of your own face when you two were supposed to be gazing at each other when the lines ‘tell me all the ways you need me’ were played.

“Oh, as if you are making it easy,” the boy snickered, finally looking at you.

“Weren’t you the one who told me at the orientation week that I was lacking because I didn’t know how to act out my emotions?”

“So you remember,” he commented after a few seconds of silence, a tug at his lips evident. You couldn’t really pinpoint whether it was surprise or bewilderment or a mixture of both, but you couldn’t understand him. After all, that’s what your beef had been about. Of course, you couldn’t forget about it, otherwise, you wouldn’t hold a grudge.

“All too well, thanks for asking,” you retorted with a roll of your eyes, having enough of his pettiness. He could make up excuses all he wanted, but you wouldn’t let him get away with it - you could always come up with solutions to his excuses. “I’m not saying you have to feel those feelings towards me. Imagine your girlfriend or crush or whoever you want to,” you added on a second note, throwing your hands up in the air.

There was a moment when something flashed across Wooyoung's eyes, and even though you couldn’t tell what it was, in the next moment, his lips curled into a teasing smirk, and he broke the silence with one of the most annoying questions he had ever posed to you.

“Was that an indirect way of asking me if I have a girlfriend?” He quirked an eyebrow in a seductive way, and you fake gagged to make him think otherwise. He just had to be the most impossible person on Earth, and he had the nerve to act on it. What a nuisance.

“You are insufferable.”

“That’s new because most girls call me sexy or charming or handsome or…”

“Oh, gosh, shut up, and concentrate on dancing! We won’t get anywhere at this rate,” you reprimanded him, but you didn’t expect him to comply.

To be honest, you could try all you wanted, but Wooyoung was just as stubborn as you were, so if he wanted, he could be very hot-headed and act on his emotions rather than weighing out a situation based on pure facts. Maybe that’s why it was even more difficult to be truly mad at him. Instead, you felt frustrated, and you had a feeling that he was feeling the same way.

As expected, Wooyoung just had to continue smirking at you and wiggling his eyebrows, teasing you further about being interested in his love life. He pulled himself together only when you reminded him of the time and of the fact that if he wanted it to be over as soon as possible, he should focus on the choreography, not your conversation.

Afterwards, the atmosphere became a bit lighter, and you hated to admit it, but Wooyoung was a quick learner, and when he wasn’t being a pain in the ass, he managed to follow you well. You hoped that he could keep it up for both of your sake.

Six weeks was a pretty short time when you needed to teach someone a full choreography on top of your own classes, assignments, dance practices, and oh, did you mention that someone was Jung Wooyoung? Yeah, that made things a bit more complicated.

Wooyoung had his own set of duties, so you could squeeze in some time to practise only when it was convenient for both of you, and while it wasn’t a problem with Yunho before because you had the whole semester to prepare for the gala, with Wooyoung, it was only 6 weeks, so you had to squeeze in more practices. Nonetheless, that created more conflict in the beginning because it always seemed like one of you couldn’t make it, but after a while, you got used to practising together late at night or before your first class in the morning. That seemed to be the only way to make it work.

Plus, after a while, Wooyoung wasn’t that insufferable anymore. He had his moments, of course, but he was a talented dancer, and once he got over the fact that he was supposed to be in love with you to do the moves as accurately as possible, the whole choreography seemed a lot better. He was completely different from Yunho because Yunho was a very captivating dancer but a total sweetheart off-stage whereas Wooyoung was powerful on-stage and off-stage as well, but off-stage, he was more on the jokester side and he had a whole lot more confidence than your previous dance partner had.

Which is why it was even more baffling when he directly asked you if it was how you imagined the choreography when you finished teaching him the steps and you could get started on rehearsing the whole dance.

“I mean, it’s different dancing with you than with Yunho, but I think it turned out well,” you answered truthfully because it was difficult to compare the two of them. You also modified some parts because Wooyoung had some sensible suggestions, and you didn’t even manage to finish learning the whole choreography with Yunho by the time he had managed to sprain his ankle, thus you couldn’t even compare the two routines as a whole.

“Different good or different bad?” He quirked an eyebrow as he reached for a bottle of water, a smile hiding in the corner of his lips. He didn’t seem to be joking this time, merely curious, so you gave him what he wanted to hear:

“Different good.”

“That’s good,” he bobbed his head as his own conclusion and took a few sips from the water. His skin was dotted with drops of sweat, his jet-black locks were sticking to his temple and his forehead, but he didn’t care, he merely ran a hand through his hair like always. You hated to admit it, but he looked good. To be precise, you had always known that he looked good, but that just made him even more cocky in your eyes because he looked good and he knew it.

You didn’t ask what he meant by it, but you kept thinking about it during the remaining dance practice. You were so deep in thought that you miscalculated your steps at one point, and you would have definitely lost your balance after spinning out from his arms if he hadn’t caught you. He pulled you closer to him to keep you from falling down, but it meant that you were squeezed against his chest, your body closer to his than ever before.

It was different this time, too. It wasn’t a part of the choreography, it wasn’t a calculated closeness. It was just… how it turned out, and you were flustered because of this fact even more so. If you had been prepared for such an outcome, you would have been able to keep your emotions in check, but your heart was beating so rapidly, heat rising to your cheeks, and you didn’t like this feeling one bit.

This was new, this was odd, this was something you shouldn’t have felt towards someone you hated.

“Enjoying this?” Wooyoung inquired with a lopsided smirk when you didn’t speak up and didn’t back away from him. If it had been you a few weeks ago, you would have definitely batted his hands away or freed yourself from his grip the moment he had caught you, but these options hadn’t even crossed your mind this time.

That, though, you couldn’t tell him, or you would never hear the end of it.

“In your dreams,” you voiced out with a flippant eye-roll as you pushed yourself away from him. He seemed far too content for someone who had not given your behaviour much thought, no wonder you were ready for his call-out. What you had instead was very surprising though:

“Well, I enjoyed it very much,” he winked before prompting you to continue the practice if you finally found your footing, and you didn’t object. You needed something to concentrate on instead of the emotions he made you feel.

The gala came around sooner than expected.

With all the performances you had to showcase for your classes and the theoretical assignments you had to hand in with the end of the term approaching, you felt like you couldn’t catch your breath. Add all of those confusing feelings you had towards Wooyoung to the mixture, and you had a pretty exhausting time dealing with everything. The said boy didn’t make it any easier either because he was borderline flirting, but with someone like him, you could never tell whether he was serious or not - that included both his professional aspirations and his flirtatious remarks. You tried hard not to think too much into his behaviour, you really tried, but it was impossible to ignore the fire in his eyes or the heat of his body when he was holding you in his embrace as part of your choreography.

It didn’t help either that when you settled on your outfits for the performance, he chose black boots, black leather pants and a loose shirt that he didn’t button up properly, but you had a feeling that it was on purpose. He even said so himself that it was when you met backstage before your performance, and agreed on going through your routine once more.

“Why not? It’s comfortable this way,” he shrugged his shoulders as if it was something natural, and you shook your head, feeling very attacked by the exposed skin on his chest that was out in full display. “Don’t tell me you feel flustered because of it,” he tilted his head while he was trying to read your expression, and there it was, that damn teasing smirk playing along the edges of his lips.

“Of course not.”

“Good to know that you won’t be too distracted then,” he replied almost instantly, that smirk getting wider and wider. You kept your chin up high even when he took a step closer to you. You weren’t a fool to back away. You didn’t want to give him that satisfaction. You couldn’t.

“I’m a professional.”

“Oh, we’ll see about that,” he responded challengingly, and took another step closer to you. You kept your gaze steady, not letting your eyelashes bat faster than before, and kept the eye-contact.

A few seconds later, someone came in to let you know that you were up next in about 5 minutes, so you stopped gazing at each other, and followed the student to halt just beside the stage. Yunho was very eager to come by to see your performance (he was okay with walking now, but wouldn’t need to dance as a practical assignment until the next term) and a few of your uni friends who could make it, so you had some people to look out for in the audience.

“Nervous?” Wooyoung inquired, genuine curiosity shining in his chocolate-brown orbs this time, and you looked at him, shaking your head.

“Not really. You?”

“Me? Nervous? Oh please,” he huffed, theatrically placing a hand over his heart as if he was hurt by your question. You let out a lighthearted laugh, and punched him in the shoulder, all in good fun. He smiled back at you, and suddenly, you felt your throat close up. You felt comfortable beside him, you really did, and it was rather new, rather… unexpected.

When they called for you to go on stage, Wooyoung reached out to squeeze your hands once before letting go of you again. You got in position without giving it a second thought, but while you were dancing, you couldn’t help but wonder: was he really acting being in love with you, or did he actually resonate with the message of the song? You didn’t feel like you were acting, it came naturally, almost like speaking your native language, and dancing with him felt like having a conversation with him. He held you strong and steady when he needed to, but he was gentle when the movement required. He smirked at you at certain lines while he gazed at you intently at others. It was all a part of the choreography, but still, with him, it felt real.

The performance came to an end in no time, and you could barely catch your breath when you were ushered down from the stage. You went back to your assigned waiting area as instructed, and even though Wooyoung seemed just as out of breath as you, he started laughing. You raised an eyebrow in question, puzzled by his sudden reaction.

“It’s just that… I would have never thought that we would make such good dance partners… and I…” He sucked in a deep breath before continuing. “I remember San telling me that if I thought about it, I would realise that you and I aren’t that different. I guess he was right,” he admitted through ragged breaths, looking up at you to see your reaction.

You weren’t that far from each other, but you took a step closer to him while you were pondering over your response. When he didn’t back away, you took another step closer to him just like he had done so before your performance.

“Really? In terms of what?

“Well, he said a lot of things,” Wooyoung answered semi-seriously before closing the gap between you two and placing a hand on your back to pull you even closer to him, a smile tugging at his lips. “But I like the fire in your eyes the most, and I think we feel the same way.”

You hated to admit it - just like basically everything when it came to him -, but he was right. You liked the fire in his eyes, but you liked it even more so because that fire seemed to be burning beside you, burning for you.

No questions were asked before both of you leaned in for a kiss, and no questions were asked afterwards either. You really did make great dance partners, and maybe even better ones off the stage.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this story of mine! Let me know what you think.

If you want to read more stories of mine, let it be for ATEEZ or for other artists, consider signing up for my taglist here.

Hope you have a lovely day/night! Take care! ❤️

#ateez x reader #ateez x you #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung x you #wooyoung imagines #wooyoung scenarios #ateez fluff #wooyoung fluff

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