#studio light clinic
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for anyone who doesn't know here's a PSA: stop wearing your blue light glasses all the time. the reflections off of them are this weird iridescent blue and they make your skin behind them look yellow and yes it shows up in pictures
#the eye clinics selling you your daily pair of glasses as blue light glasses are doing you SO dirty#you need two pairs if you're going to have blue light filtering#caveat: it probably doesn't show up in most casual pictures but i used to work at a school photography studio#and our retouchers had to de-yellow blue light glasses kids all he time
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Ways they show they love each other pt.1 - Lewis Hamilton
5 snippets of fluff - part 2 here
Also there's a bunch more just like these ones if you like them - Ways to say I love you p1 / p2 ; All these little things - p1 / p2 ; Small firsts
request : "i was thinking after reading the one shot you did about fans favorite moments and 5+5, and i got an ideia of a compilation of moments caught on cameras of Lewis and Y/n basically forgetting there’s people around" - anon
pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!
wordcount: +4k
a/n: Hi anon, your request made me realize how I was relying heavily on dialogues, so it took me a bit to get these done, but I hope you like it as much as I loved writing them❤️
As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!
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A stolen glance
The behind-the-scenes of any photoshoot was always a controlled chaos—a blend of soft chatter, click of cameras, the occasional bark of direction.
Bright lights bathed the studio in a cool, almost clinical glow, every corner meticulously curated for perfection. Lewis was the center of it all, effortlessly commanding the attention of everyone present.
And even in the midst of the frenetic energy, he had his calm, collected demeanor that made the whole affair seem easy.
He was, after all, no stranger to the spotlight.
Y/n stood off to the side, nestled in a corner of the studio where she could work without drawing attention. Her laptop perched on a small table, open to a report she had been poring over since they arrived.
She knew her place there—quiet, supportive, and out of the way. And the last thing she wanted was to be a distraction.
But as the photoshoot progressed, she found herself stealing more and more glances at Lewis, unable to resist the magnetic pull he had, specially on her.
He was dressed to a tee, as always, the tailored suit hugging his frame perfectly.
The photographer would call for a slight adjustment, and Lewis would respond with a slight tilt of his head or a shift in his posture, a model of effortless grace.
But it wasn’t just the way he looked that held Y/n’s attention; it was the way he carried himself, the way he seemed so completely in his element.
Lewis, ever attuned to the energy in the room, could feel her eyes on him even when he wasn’t looking. After all, it was a sensation he had come to know well—the warmth of her gaze, the quiet intensity of her presence.
He let a small smile play on his lips as he adjusted his cufflinks, the corners of his eyes crinkling just slightly. He didn’t need to look directly at her to confirm his suspicious.
But then, it happened.
The photographer called for a brief pause to adjust the lighting, and Lewis took the opportunity to glance over in Y/n’s direction.
She was no longer pretending to work, her focus entirely on him now. Their eyes met across the room and the rest of the studio seemed to fall away.
They didn’t need words to communicate; everything was said in that single, stolen glance.
To an outsider, it might have seemed like nothing more than a casual exchange of looks, but for those who paid close attention, there was a depth to the way they looked at each other, a silent conversation happening beneath the surface.
Her eyes softened as they met his, a small, almost imperceptible nod of understanding passing between them. His smile widened just a fraction, a quiet acknowledgment of her support.
The moment was fleeting—just a few seconds, really—but it was enough.
Enough for the photographer’s assistant, who had been adjusting a reflector nearby, to notice the subtle exchange. She glanced between Lewis and Y/n, a curious smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
As the photoshoot resumed, Y/n kept stealing glances at Lewis, and each time, she found him looking back. It was a dance they played often, the stolen glances—a way of staying connected even when they were surrounded by people.
Another crew member, tasked with holding up the boom mic, caught on as well. He nudged his colleague, nodding subtly in their direction. “You see that?” he whispered, a knowing grin spreading across his face.
His colleague followed his gaze, catching one of those silent exchanges. “Yeah,” she replied, her voice low with amusement. “They’re not exactly hiding it, are they?”
The shoot continued, but for those who were paying attention, the focus shifted slightly. It was no longer just about capturing the perfect shot of Lewis Hamilton; they were capturing the stolen glances, the unspoken words—a part of the narrative, an unexpected layer to the day’s work.
And when the shoot finally wrapped, Lewis walked over to Y/n. He didn’t say anything at first, just reached out to take her hand, his thumb brushing gently over her knuckles. She looked up at him, her expression soft, a silent question in her eyes.
“Ready to go?” he asked, his voice low, meant only for her.
She replied with a nod, the smile on her lips answering more than just his question.
As they walked out of the studio hand in hand, the photographer couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, he should have captured those stolen glances on camera.
Because sometimes, the most beautiful moments aren’t the ones that are posed or staged—they’re the ones that happen when you think no one else is watching.
Except someone always is.
A playful nudge
The video started with a shaky view of the Malibu coastline, the sound of waves crashing faintly in the distance, and the rhythmic hum of cars passing by.
The camera panned over the scenic beach for a moment before a voice behind the camera blurted out “Oh my God, is that Lewis Hamilton?”
The camera zoomed in, focusing on a couple standing just before the crosswalk, both decked out in running gear.
Sure enough, it’s Lewis, slightly out of breath, hands resting on his hips as he waits for the signal to cross. Next to him, Y/n standing with a relaxed smile, glancing up and down the road.
“Are they out for a run smack in the middle of Malibu?” another voice chimed in from off-camera, clearly excited by the sighting.
The camera adjusted, capturing the full view of Lewis and Y/n as they stand side by side, the breeze lightly tousling Y/n’s hair.
She had her phone in hand, taking a quick peek at the screen before tucking it back into her shorts. The shot lingering on them for a few seconds, the fan behind the camera trying to stay as quiet as possible.
Y/n nudged Lewis gently with her shoulder, just enough to make him stumble a step to the side. The camera zoomed in at just the right time, catching Lewis’s amused reaction. He laughed, the sound carried by the breeze, and shakes his head, clearly enjoying the playful jab.
The fan behind the camera giggled softly and it was clear when a voice whispered “Did you see that?”
Lewis, grinning, turned toward Y/n, his expression full of that familiar warmth fans would seldom catch a glimpse of.
He nudged her back lightly, more of a gentle tap, like he doesn’t want to push too hard. The camera catching the playful spark in both of their eyes, the kind of silent exchange that speaks volumes.
The fan continued filming, capturing how Y/n laughs at his halfhearted nudge, rolling her eyes as if to say, Is that all you’ve got? She gave him a mock glare, but it’s softened by the smile tugging at the corners of her lips.
There’s an ease between them, the kind that makes anyone watching feel like they’re intruding into something private, something special.
With the light finally turning green Lewis gestured toward the crosswalk, but Y/n made no move to start jogging again. Instead, she just stood there for a second, shaking her head with that mischievous look still on her face.
Lewis nudged her again, this time even lighter, before giving her a mock-serious look like he’s trying to get them back on track.
Y/n giggled, finally taking a step forward as they begin to cross the road, but not before throwing a playful glance over her shoulder at Lewis.
The camera zoomed in on the way he followed her with an amused smile, clearly enjoying the moment.
As they make their way across, Y/n’s pace picked up, and Lewis kept right alongside her, their matching strides making them effortlessly in sync.
The fan behind the camera sighed “Look at them. Relationship goals, for real.”
The video lingered for a few more seconds as Lewis and Y/n continued their run, their figures growing smaller against the backdrop of the coast.
Just before they disappear from view though, Lewis reached out, placing a hand on Y/n’s back for a split second as if to push her on, the two of them laughing as they ran off down the road.
The video cut out with the fan’s last words: “I swear, I don’t want it if it’s not like that.”
A stolen kiss
The celebration was electric, the kind of moment that would be burned into everyone’s memory for years to come.
Ferrari had finally done it. Lewis crossed the finish line in first place, the prancing horse charging ahead of the pack in what felt like destiny fulfilled.
The garage exploded into cheers, the pit wall erupted in a frenzy, and the grandstands painted a sea of red echoed the voices carried on the wind.
It wasn’t just another victory though. It was his first win with Ferrari—a culmination of months of hard work, adjustment, and even doubts.
The weight of expectation had been heavy, but now, standing in the aftermath of triumph, he felt lighter than air.
The team swarmed around him as he finally made his way back into the garage, hands clapping his back, smiles wide and infectious.
The sea of red uniforms buzzing with joy as they prepared for the post-race photo—Ferrari’s tradition to mark the moment with everyone who had a hand in their success.
Y/n was already there, waiting on the outskirts of the group, smiling at him with a look that carried every ounce of her pride.
He caught her eye, and for a second, the noise and chaos dimmed, leaving just the two of them locked in a gaze that said everything without needing to speak. She was beaming, a mixture of joy and awe in her eyes, and he knew that this win was as much hers as it was his.
As the photographers tried to position the team into position, Lewis found his way toward Y/n, weaving through the jubilant engineers, mechanics, and team staff, until he was beside her.
She was grinning, arms already outstretched as he pulled her into a tight hug, both of them laughing breathlessly in the whirlwind of it all.
“Your first win here” she whispered in his ear; her voice barely audible over the din of celebration. “You did it.”
“We did it” he corrected, voice low, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smirk.
Before either of them could say anything more, a team member called out for Lewis to join the front of the photo, waving him over to stand with the trophy.
He gave Y/n a quick look, something cheeky and playful dancing in his eyes. She smile in response.
“Go on” she nudged him, gesturing toward the growing mass of Ferrari crew.
But as Lewis moved toward the group, he didn’t go far.
Instead, in one swift, practiced motion, he spun around, grabbed Y/n by the wrist, and tugged her toward him. It was quick, almost too fast to catch amid the chaos, but then—there it was.
A stolen kiss.
His lips met hers in a flash of spontaneity, right in the middle of the noise and celebration, brief yet brimming with passion.
The kind of kiss that left a spark even in its brevity, enough to draw a few cheers and whistles from the surrounding team, though most were too busy being caught up in the victory to fully take notice.
Y/n’s eyes widened in surprise for a split second before she melted into it, a soft laugh escaping against his lips as her hand came up to the back of his neck. Lewis grinned against her mouth, the mischievous glint in his eyes unmistakable even in such a fleeting moment.
As quickly as it had happened, it was over. Lewis pulled away, his trademark smirk firmly in place as Y/n stood there, flushed and breathless, trying to suppress the giggle that bubbled up in her throat.
��Get in there!” someone from the team shouted shaking their head with amusement at the exchange - clearly a jab at his former team.
Lewis winked at Y/n before finally joining his team, stepping into the heart of the crowd where the Ferrari flag waved high, and the race trophy gleamed in the sunlight. He held it up, his teammates cheering louder than ever, the cameras snapping relentlessly to capture the moment in all its glory.
The celebration photo would show the entire team draped in victory, smiles wide and arms slung around each other. But if you looked close enough, tucked away in the background, you’d see it—Lewis with that telltale grin, Y/n just behind him, the traces of their stolen kiss still lingering in the soft curve of her smile.
It was a tiny moment in the grand scheme of things, almost imperceptible amid the fanfare and noise.
But for those who knew what to look for, it was impossible to miss.
Because even in the chaos of celebration, even in a moment as public as this, their love found a way to slip through the cracks—brief, stolen, but undeniable.
And that was the beauty of it.
A tender moment
The pit lane was quieter now, a contrast to the earlier chaos of the day.
Most of the crew had packed up, the cars were tucked away in the garage, and the hum of the engines had long since faded into memory. The track waiting the next day’s action, and only a few lingering souls wandered about, soaking in the calm before the storm.
Among those few, a fan stood by the barrier, camera slung around her neck, taking in the rare stillness of the circuit. She hadn’t expected to see anything interesting at this hour, not with the hustle and bustle already behind them.
But as her eyes drifted across the pit lane, she caught sight of something—a scene so simple that it stopped her in her tracks.
There, just outside the Mercedes garage, stood Lewis and Y/n. They weren’t hurried, weren’t caught up in the business of racing. No, this was different.
They were wrapped in their own little world, their bodies turned toward each other as if nothing else mattered.
Lewis had his hands loosely around Y/n’s waist, his thumbs gently rubbing circles against her sides, grounding her in their quiet corner of the pit lane. His head was tilted slightly, eyes focused entirely on her as she spoke softly to him, her words just for his ears.
There was a warmth in his expression, something tender and utterly unguarded.
He wasn’t the man under pressure, expected to perform at the highest-level day in and day out. Right now, he was simply Lewis, listening with all the care in the world to the woman he loved.
Y/n’s voice was soft, almost a whisper, as she spoke to him. She was leaning in just a bit, her hands resting lightly on his chest, and from a distance, it almost looked like they were swaying slightly, as if caught in their own rhythm.
Whatever she was saying though didn’t seem urgent—it was the kind of conversation that unfolded naturally, without need for resolution.
The fan watched, unnoticed, her breath catching slightly as she witnessed the way they moved together, as if the rest of the world had faded away and left only them standing in the soft glow of the overhead lights.
There was something so private about it, and yet so visible in its simplicity—an everyday moment captured in the stillness of a place built on speed and intensity.
And then, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, Lewis leaned in. His lips brushed her temple, soft and unhurried, lingering there for just a second longer than a simple kiss.
It wasn’t meant for anyone else but her, a quiet reassurance, a silent promise. Y/n’s eyes fluttered closed for a moment, her body relaxing into him as his arms tightened around her waist, pulling her gently into a hug.
Her hands rested against his chest, and he bent slightly to accommodate her, his mouth grazing the top of her head as he left another kiss.
Lewis shifted slightly, tightening his hold on Y/n for just a second before loosening his grip, but not letting her go.
He said something then, his voice too low to carry, but whatever it was made her laugh softly, the sound like a ripple in the still night air. She tilted her head up to look at him, and the fan could see the way her eyes lit up in response to whatever Lewis had said.
Here, late at night on the pit lane, far from the roar of engines and the scrutiny of crowds, Lewis wasn’t the global superstar. He was just a man in love, holding onto the person who made everything else fall into place.
It wasn’t the flash and dazzle of a public relationship; it was something quieter, more personal. And yet, in its tenderness, it said so much more.
The fan’s camera captured it all. And in less than an hour everyone had witnessed their moment.
A moment that was meant to be quiet, meant to be just for them, but one that also showed so much to everyone lucky enough to watch the video.
A moment that proved love wasn’t always about grand gestures or declarations.
Sometimes, it was as simple as a kiss on the temple and the way two people held each other in the stillness of the night, saying everything that needed to be said without a single word.
A playful tease
The fan video started with shaky footage as the camera panned across the crowded Vegas club, neon lights flashing to the beat of the music.
People were dancing, laughing, completely wrapped up in the energy of the night, but then the lens focused, and the camera zoomed in, capturing a familiar face standing at the edge of the VIP section.
It’s Lewis Hamilton, casually leaning against the rail, drink in hand.
He’s cool, relaxed, but there’s something else that catches the attention of the person filming. The camera shifting slightly to the right, catching a glimpse of Y/n moving through the crowd, dancing.
She’s not facing Lewis at first, but there’s no doubt she’s teasing him. The way she swayed, her body moving to the rhythm, full of that playful energy.
The camera zoomed in further, capturing the way Lewis watched her, a small smile playing on his lips. He stood there, arms crossed, amused, but anyone watching the video can tell he’s completely tuned in to her.
A few seconds into the video, Y/n spined closer, twirling just out of his reach before laughing and disappearing into the crowd again.
The fan holding the phone shifted slightly, following her movements as best they could while keeping Lewis in the shot. A few muffled voices could be heard in the background, someone saying, “That’s Hamilton, right?” and another voice chiming in, “Yeah, and that’s his girlfriend!”
Y/n circled back into view, closer to Lewis this time, brushing past him with a light touch, just enough to make him chuckle. The fan holding the camera catching the moment perfectly.
His smirk turning into a quiet laugh as he leaned down slightly, calling something out to her over the music. The camera didn’t pick up what he said, but the spark in Y/n’s eyes is clear when she looked back at him.
The person filming giggled quietly, clearly amused by the interaction, and the video cut to a new angle as the fan moved closer.
Y/n could be seen fully then, standing just in front of Lewis, dancing to the beat, a wide grin on her face. She didn’t say anything, just kept on teasing him with her moves.
Every now and then, she glanced over her shoulder, making sure he was watching – and of course, he was.
One of the fans nearby cheered her on, and the camera shook a little as the person holding it laughed, saying, “He’s down bad.”
The footage zoomed in again, focusing on the way Lewis watched Y/n with a look that was both amused and completely smitten.
Another cheer came from someone in the crowd as Y/n finally moved back toward Lewis, this time leaning her back against his chest for a second.
The scene caught perfectly—the way he smiled down at her, his hand brushing against her waist before she moved away again, still dancing.
The video blurred for a second as the fan tries to get a better shot, but when it cleared, it captures the way Y/n leaned in, her lips moving as she says something into Lewis’s ear.
The music is too loud for the camera to pick up her words, but Lewis’s grin widened, his eyes sparkling with that playful light that only she could bring out of him.
“I’m so single, look at them.” someone off-camera said, and the video shook again, this time zooming out slightly to catch the whole scene—the lights, the crowd, the two of them standing in the middle of it all, lost in their own world.
At the end, Y/n spined one last time, landing in front of Lewis with a dramatic little twirl.
She laughed, throwing her arms up in the air, and Lewis taking his chance, reached out before she could escape again. His arm closing around her waist, pulling her back against his chest.
Y/n let out a surprised laugh, her hands instinctively going to his arms. He leans into her, whispering something into her ear that made her smile as she tilted her head back to look at him.
The camera zoomed in once more, catching the way his fingers tighten around her waist, holding her close. It was just them—wrapped up in their moment, amid the noise of the club.
Y/n turned in his arms, facing him fully, their smiles softer as she placed her hands on his chest. The music pounding on.
The video ends as Lewis pulled her in closer, their foreheads almost touching, his lips moving as she looked into his eyes and a smirk rising up in her own lips.
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#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 scenario#f1 x reader#lewis hamilton#lh#lh44#lewis#lewis x reader#lewis imagine#lewis hamilton fanfic#lewis hamilton x reader#lewis hamilton one shot#lewis hamilton imagine#lh44 x reader#lh44 imagine#lewis hamilton x you
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𝐏𝐔𝐓 𝐈𝐓 𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐄 | J.JK
— pairing | fem!oc x tattoo artist!jjk
— summary | jungkook’s still closing up after a long day of work. she went to his shop right after work and she was drained. luckily jungkook was just the right one to cheer her up
— warning | bad writing (i’m doing my best)
unprotected sex, cursing, praising, just sex lol
— word count | 1.3k words
— song suggestion | put it on me — austin mahone
Jungkook had been working at the shop all day. All sorts of clients going in and out of his shop.
His employees had already gone home a while ago. He was still closing up for the night.
He was exhausted and drained. He just wanted to see his girl, though she had never left his mind through his shift.
The clock had just struck 12pm and JK’s Ink Lounge had finally closed up for the night. It was late, and she was barely getting off work around the same time as well.
He hadn’t seen her since last night because of their busy schedules.
She was a nurse and would work insane hours at the clinic. The two hadn’t had a work break in quite some time.
A knock was heard on the locked door of the shop. “We’re closed!” Jungkook called out before looking at the door, realizing it was actually his girlfriend, not a customer.
“Oh shit.” He cursed to himself, getting out and unlocking the door for her.
Jungkook's face lights up when he sees her enter his shop.
“Sorry baby. I forgot my key.” She apologized, pecking her boyfriend’s lips.
“It’s okay beautiful. What made you come here? Aren’t you tired? I thought you were at home.” He asked her, a hint of concern in his voice.
“Wanted to see my boo.” She hummed. “Never get to really see you anymore.”
He exhaled, “Yeah I know.”
“I got dropped tonight so I thought my lovely boyfriend would pick us up dinner on the way home.” She fluttered her lashes cutely.
“Anything for my baby.”
“I’ll help you close. Just do your online stuff and I’ll clean.” Y/n walked to the front desk, setting her purse down.
“No no baby.” Jungkook stopped her. “You gotta be tired Y/n. I don’t want to do that to you.”
“It’s not that bad baby.” She chuckled, grabbing some cleaning products to properly prep the studio. “I want to help you.”
Y/n could almost run the studio on her own. She knew everything and was more than willing to help her man out.
“You’re so amazing.” He kissed her cheek. “I’ll hurry.”
“No rush.” She shook her head, getting straight to cleaning.
The two worked on the closing duties, making sure every part of the studio was ready for tomorrow.
“How was work today baby?”
“It was okay.” Y/n shrugged. “I’m so drained.” She complained, taking a seat on his lap.
Jungkook immediately notices her drained expression, and his face falls. He pulls her into a tight hug, rubbing her back soothingly. "What happened, mama?"
“Short staffed again so I was kinda irritated.” She sighed.
He sighs softly, understanding her fatigue all too well. "You know I'm here for you, mama. Always."
His thumb gently strokes the side of her face, trying to ease her stress. "Why don't you let me take care of you for once?"
“Mm no. It’s my job to take care of you.” She protested.
He chuckles softly, shaking his head at her stubbornness. "That's my job, mama. You're too tired to argue, and I can tell you need some pampering."
“You’re so hard working baby. You’re better than me because you can take so much.” He hummed. “Sorry about your day baby.”
His thumb gently traces the outline her lips, before gently kissing them. "Let me take care of you tonight.
“Please.” She gave in, “I need it.”
"You're too beautiful to say no to." He carries her to a guest futon and sits down with her, his arm around her waist as he kisses her once again.
He groans softly, kissing her deeper and harder as his hands begin to roam her body.
"You know what I'm thinking about, pretty?" He whispers into her ear, his lips brushing against it. "I can't wait much longer. I was fucking trying to wait until we got home but— shit I can’t.”
“So fucking pretty” He whispered.
He begins to undress her, kissing every exposed inch of skin.
“Been wanting this for so long.” She spoke, “We never have time anymore.”
He groans as he hears that, his hands cupping her ass as he her you closer to him.
"Fuck I know pretty. I've wanted it just as bad you have no idea.” He lifts her up and positions himself before lowering her onto him.
“Haven’t seen you in so long.” She mumbled. “Haven’t touched you in forever.”
He nods in agreement as he thrusts up in her. "I know, baby. I've missed this too." His hands roam her body, touching every inch of it as he whispers sweet things to her.
"I love you, mama. You're so fucking beautiful." He croaked out.
His hands travel down her body and between her legs, rubbing her in just the right spot as he watches her with lust-filled eyes.
“Mm” She hummed.
Jungkook’s eyes darken at her soft moans as he leans in closer. "Do you want me to fuck you now, baby?"
He whispers hotly in your ear before nipping at her earlobe. "Because I want to fuck you so fucking bad right now. Just say the word.”
“Jungkook please. Want this so bad.” She whimpered
He growls at her whines, pulling out of her before flipping her over and pushing back into her. "Like this, baby?"
His hips piston in and out of her as he holds onto her hips, tugging her back into him as he thrusts forward.
“Fuck Jungkook— yes.”
He smirks as he listens to her pleas for more.
"Yes, baby?" He leans over her, his chest pressed against her back. "Do you like it when I fuck you rough?"
He moans at her words, his thrusts getting faster and harder. "Yeah, baby. You like when I fuck you rough like this hm? You're such a good girl for me."
He bites down on her shoulder as he reaches around and starts rubbing her clit. “So good for me.”
He smirks against her skin, feeling her getting closer to her release.
"That's right, baby. Cum for me. I wanna hear you scream my name." He thrusts into her a few more times before reaching down and starting to rub her clit furiously.
Her legs were shaking and her body was reacting all too well to his touch.
Jungkook was reaching his orgasm as well, trying to chase it with hers.
“Fuck I’m cumming.” She whined.
He groans at her words, feeling himself getting closer to his own release. "Yeah, baby. Cum for me. Cum all over my cock."
He thrusts into her as hard as he can, triggering her orgasm. "Fuck” Jungkook cursed.
“Feels so good— shit” she whimpered.
He growls at her words, feeling himself getting even closer to his release. "Yeah? Mm gonna cum all inside this pussy."
He thrusts into her a few more times before he couldn't take it anymore and cums inside her with a loud groan, filling her up.
“Shitttt” She panted, looking at how messy her pussy was because of them.
He pants hard, his forehead resting against hers as he tries to catch his breath. "Damn, baby. You felt so fucking good."
He smirks and kisses her lips gently. "Thank you, you always let me fuck you so good."
“Anything for you my love.” She giggled. “I can’t believe we had sex in here again.”
He lets out a chuckle, kissing her forehead. "Yeah, I know. I can't help it though. Everytime you walk in here I know I’m done for."
He smirks and kisses her again. "You always make me so excited.”
“You’re just lucky I can’t resist.” She laughed. “Let’s clean now so we can go get food. I’m fucking starving.”
He nods. "Yeah, let's clean up. My stomach is killing me." He pulls out of you and helps clean her up.
“I’m not done with you once we’re home.” He mumbled. “Once that food in my system I’m ready to go.”
“You can’t be serious.” She laughed.
#bts smut#jungkook smut#jungkook#jungkook fanfic#jungkook fic recs#jeon jungkook#jjk x reader#jimin and jungkook#jungkook fiction#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#jungkook fluff#bts jungkook#jeon jungkoooook#jjk x you#jjk fluff#jjk smut#jjk#jjk spoilers#jeongguk x reader#jeongguk smut#jeon jeongguk#jeon jungguk#jeon jk#bts jimin#bts#bts army#bts pjm#bts updates#bts x reader
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Oh, Camellia, won't you take me away? - A Hanahaki!Eddie Munson story (sneak peek!)
eddie munson x fem!reader
summary: eddie munson had been a constant during your short time in hawkins, indiana, which made it that much harder when you had to leave. four years and a clinical trial later, you'd thought you'd conquered an otherwise fatal disease. what you weren't expecting, though, was the man that nearly killed you to walk back into your life, threatening to undo all of the progress you'd made towards healing - both physically and emotionally.
cw: hanahaki!au, angst, descriptions of light gore, childhood trauma, sexual themes and content
a/n: here is a snippet from the hanahaki eddie fic that has been bouncing around in my brain over the past week. feedback welcomed!
Water flowed out across the floor in a surge that mimicked crashing ocean waves. You cursed as you scrambled to right the plastic Procona and liquid sloshed awkwardly, lapping at your fingertips. It was a surprising amount from a relatively small bucket.
“Everything alright out there?” called a gruff voice from the back office.
You sighed. “Just fine, Bill! Minor spill. Nothing major.”
A muffled grumble could be heard from the owner’s space behind you, but you paid it no mind. It only took a few steps for you to grab the mop and start cleaning up the water all over the workspace floor, and to your relief, it really wasn’t as much as it seemed.
The nearly four years you’d spent at Indiana Floral Company had seemed to fly by in a blink of an eye. You weren’t expecting an on the spot interview when you’d first stopped into the shop, but the owner Bill had been impressed at your willingness to learn and your natural eye for design and hired you immediately. Probationary, of course.
So under Bill’s tutelage, your floral design skills blossomed. The basic knowledge of plants you’d brought from years of spending time gardening with your Grandma grew. You went from simply identifying lilies to knowing the difference between Asiatic and Oriental and their best growing seasons. You could identify roses based on subtle color differences and had learned how to take the most tightly closed bud and blow it open with a little humidity, a plastic bag, and very careful preening. And though you didn’t like to brag, you could match corsage ribbon to prom dresses better than anyone in town.
As time wore on, Bill had shared that years of design had wrecked his body and that it was time to begin passing the torch. Since Indiana Floral Company was one of the top floral design studios in town, the responsibility embedded in passing said torch was sobering. But after a year and a half of earning your stripes, you landed a head designer role and began training to take over the small family business.
Humming a nondescript tune, you refilled the earlier bucket with water and flower food before chopping the ends off of a bunch of de-thorned roses with the guillotine-like stem cutter. A clunk thrummed out when you dropped the two dozen stems into the water. Each blossom peered at you with a center like a curled eye — delicate sandy cream — perfect for the event you were designing later this weekend.
A ring of the bells on the front door broke your focus. You wiped your hands on the rag shoved haphazardly into your apron and turned at the sudden sound of Bill’s voice.
“The 1:30 initial wedding consult must be early. You mind taking this one, kid?” His head peeked around the office door. “I started the file – it’s on the cash wrap.” He looked tired; the man should have retired two years ago.
With a slight smile, you nodded. “Got it.”
It was impossible to see who had entered due to the amount of plants, gift items, and displays you’d designed around the small space (“customers shop with their eyes first, kid; you gotta draw them in before you let them see the price tag” Bill had said). But as soon as you rounded the front display, your stomach dropped clear out of your body and onto the floor.
Maybe it was the habitual need to weave around the labyrinth of flora and gifts that had lowered your defenses. Or perhaps it was the fact that this was a typical boring Wednesday afternoon in April. Hell, it could have been the questionable sandwich you had for lunch that you found at the back of the minifridge.
But one thing was clear: you hadn’t expected to see Eddie Munson and Chrissy Cunningham hand in hand looking around at the array of merchandise you’d set out in preparation for Mother’s Day.
“Hi!” A saccharine voice matched the sickeningly sweet smile on the strawberry blonde in front of you. “We’re here for a wedding consultation at 1:30. Sorry we’re a bit early — we didn’t want to be late!”
Time stood still. Or maybe that was just you — frozen as you stared the couple down with a look of surprise plastered across your features. You didn’t think you could move (or even speak, for that matter).
However, for the first time in almost four years, you felt your chest tighten and a sharp prickling sensation snake up your windpipe. You licked your dry lips (hadn’t you just put on chapstick?) and attempted to swallow with no success. Instead, your throat constricted, and there it was: an involuntary, yet ever so familiar metallic cough.
image credit: pinterest dividers: @saradika-graphics
tagging some moots that might be interested: @chickpeadumpsterfire @voyeurmunson @joshlmbrt @mediocredreams @littlexdeaths @anamelessfool
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson angst#eddie munson hanahaki au!#hanahaki#hanahaki au#hanahaki!eddie munson#eddie munson hanahaki#eddie stranger things#stranger things#stranger things fic#sneak peek#preview#my writing#hannie’s writing
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Casting Call (Valentino x Reader)
CW: Sex machine, sex work, casting call for adult films Rating: Adult Summary: Having grown tired of scraping by, you attend a casting call for the leading pornography studio in hell. You're surprised to find the casting call takes place with the head director himself, Valentino.
You fidgeted with the hem of your skirt. The plastic chair you sat in was far from comfortable, creaking with every move you made. When you decided to show up to one of Valentino’s open casting calls, you didn’t know what to expect.
You didn’t expect the near surgical bright lights and pristine floors. The coldness of the room surprised you. It felt the same as if you were walking into a doctor’s office back up top, not potentially trying out for a job in porn.
Oh, how far you had fallen. You’d been too good to do it in life, but in death- the ultimate cosmic joke was that there were just as many bills in hell as you had up top. Fuck, if you were honest- you were pretty sure there were more.
The leathery bat wings, too small to actually be any use twitched as your name was called. It was your last chance to turn back. For a moment, hesitation stilled your feet. A deep breath later and you crossed the room, following behind the demon as you were led into a room.
“Valentino will be with you shortly,” the woman said, not looking up from her clipboard before closing the door behind her.
The thick rug muffled your footfalls as you made your way to the overstuffed couches, taking a seat as you waited. There wasn’t a lot in the cold room. Cold white walls and bright lights made everything feel so clinical.
Nerves clawed at your stomach as you waited, again fidgeting with the soft pink hem of your short shirt. You hadn’t expected to be meeting with the head of the studio today, if at all.
Yet, the door clicked open, and the towering man stepped inside. You stood and waited, unsure what to do or say, as he crossed the room.
“I hear you want to work for me, chica.” Valentino’s voice was smooth, even and unbothered as he looked down at you through pink lensed heart glasses.
“Yes, Sir.”
“Have you ever done sex work before?” he asked, though you could see the forms you had filled out in one of his hands.
“No, sir.”
“Well, let’s see what you’ve got.” He motioned to you as he sat on the couch, long leg crossed over his knee and upper arms reaching out along the back of the couch. His lower arms crossed over his abdomen.
“I don’t-”
“Strip,” he cut you off, “I don’t have all day.”
Trembling fingers reached up, pulling the dark plum sweater over your head in one smoothe motion. Valentino watched, critical eyes running over flesh. A dark flush ran up your chest, darkening your soft pink skin as you dropped the small skirt to the ground, kicking your shoes off in the process of kicking it aside.
You tried not to look at him as you worked your feet out of your socks. Then you stood in front of him, wearing nothing but your lacey purple bra and matching panties. You didn’t know if you should turn for him as the silence ticked on.
“Well?” Valentino asked after a moment longer. “Get on with it?”
“Oh,” you said, realizing he had meant to get naked naked.
Once your bra and panties joined the pile of clothes, he motioned for you to turn this way and that, taking in each curve of your body. The instructions had started simple: lean forward in front of him, stretch your arms above your head and spin. Shame forced itself into your mind as he demanded you kneel and then get on your hands and knees.
“Turn around,” Valentino said, eyes running over your body as you turned, presenting your ass to him. “Good,” he said. “Now bend your elbows.”
You did as he said, resting your head against the rug. His eyes roamed over your puffy cunt, looking at the way everything sat together. You could feel his eyes.
“Back on your hands.” You did as he said, silently following orders. “Spread your legs now, as far as you can.”
Cold air rushed over your freshly exposed folds.
“You’re wet,” Valentino remarked, eyeing the way you glistened as your folds spread. “Back down on the ground.”
“Being watched excites you,” Valentino continued, nudging your knees to spread more as he watched your opening twitch. “That’s good, chica. It’ll be easier for you if you enjoy it.”
“Okay,” you struggled to make your voice work. Valentino spoke as if this was a normal job interview and yet you were naked, head down, ass up and legs spread so wide your hips were straining as he spoke.
“How much experience do you have with anal?” Valentino could have been asking what weather you favored or how you took your coffee.
“Not much,” you answered honestly.
His hand touched you, finally. You flinched at the contact. Long, thin fingers gathering your slick from your folds only to spread it on the tight ring of muscle of your ass. He probed, slipping his finger in and out.
“We can work with that,” Valentino said finally, pulling his finger from the slight burning ring of your opening. “Turn around, stay on your knees.”
The plush carpet under your knees offered only a little comfort as you turned, kneeling in front of the imposing moth demon. His coat was gone now, wings hanging off his shoulders like a red cape. Your eyes trailed up the white pants until they settled on the bright blue dildo he held out to you.
It was of a moderate size at best, nothing that would be greatly challenging to handle.
“Suck it,” Valentino ordered.
You ran your tongue over the surface, trying to wet the soft silicone before you wrapped your lips around it. The show you put on was far from your best. The dildo did not slide easily between your lips, but that didn’t stop you from trying. You worked it in and out of your mouth, the action becoming easier as your saliva coated it.
“Good enough,” Valentino said. “We can work with that, too. Training is a kink.”
Valentino stood, walking over to the table. You stood, rubbing your thighs together as you followed. The room was so cold. Your nipples were painfully hard pebbles as what had looked like a table disassembled, revealing a mechanical contraption.
“What is that?” Fear spiked through you.
“Don’t worry,” Valentino held his hand out for you, guiding you to step over, straddling the sawhorse. “Lean back.”
He brought the mechanical contraption closer, the bar pointing between your legs. Large hands grabbed your legs, hooking them over two bars that protruded back.
He took the blue dildo from your hand and screwed it onto the bar. He watched as you trembled, taking in the evidence of your nerves.
“Sex machine porn is hot right now,” Valentino spoke casually as he lined the tip of the dildo up with your opening, pushing it just inside. “It’s also good for casting,”
“I didn’t-” You struggled to put words together as the motor of came to life with a smoothe pur. “I thought,”
“That I’d fuck you?” Valentino asked, laughing as the dildo began to thrust into you, slowly at first. “No, no, chica, that is for the highest earners. Only the highest earners get to get fucked by me. If you do good, maybe one day.”
The machine moved into you faster and faster, each mechanical thrust perfectly timed. You gasped, back arching as the dildo dragged against your walls. The head of the plastic cock nudged your cervix again and again as Valentino watched you.
Calculating eyes took in the way your breasts moved with every thrust. He moved around where you lay, spread out and moaning softly as the machine fucked you. He watched the way your body reacted to the trusts, changing the angle of the machine.
You moaned deeper, chest heaving as the cock hit your g spot again and again. The head of the cock kissed your cervix. The nature of the machine left you no way to put distance between you and the thrusts.
There was no denying how wet you were now. The squelching of your cunt filled the room, sounding with each thrust as a machine fucked you. Val again adjusted the angle, forcing the dildo up.
“Fuck,” you gasped out. Each thrust pushed out against your stomach. There was no humanity in the thrusts. No brain was behind the machine meant it didn’t hesitate to thrust up and into you, disregarding any resistance. “Oh, fuck.”
Val stopped the machine, earning you a shameless whine before you could remind yourself that you were there for what was essentially a job interview. You had been so close to finishing, shamelessly, on the machine.
“Very good.” Valentino pulled the machine back, unhooking your legs from over the bars.
He grabbed you, easily lifting your naked body in his arms. The wide opening of his mostly undone purple shirt treated you to the feeling of his lot lilac skin against your pale pink skin. The heat of his body burned into your painfully hard nipples, drawing a moan from you.
He ran hands between your bodies as he pulled you away with other hands. Fingers ran through your folds, feeling the way your body jumped and twitched. Your knees nearly gave out as the pads of his fingers ran over and around your clit. He pinched and pulled at your nipples.
Calculating eyes watched your every reaction, weighing how it would look on camera. He evaluated what he could market and sell, how he could best make a financial profit off your body.
You squeaked as he draped you chest down on the sawhorse again. Hands ran down your back, soothing you as he wrapped straps around your thighs, tieing them to the legs.
Looking behind you, you watched in horror as he added a second arm to the machine. The clattering of mechanics seemed deafening as he switched the dildo out for something fatter. On the upper arm, he added a short, thin dildo.
“Relax, chica,” Valentino soothed as you trembled in fear and anticipation. “You’re almost done with your casing call.”
“What are you-?” The sound of a bottle clicking open cut your words off. Cold, slick wetness ran down your center, running over the puckered muscle of your ass and down your folds.
There was no doubt what he intended to do as he brought the machine close again. The head of the bottom cock nestled easily into your opening. For a moment, he tinkered and adjusted things and then the second cock was pressing against the tight ring of your ass.
The machine came to life again, slowly pressing the cock into your weeping cunt. It fucked into you slowly, steadily. Every part of you tensed as the second cock came to life, pressing into the tight ring of your ass. There was no hesitation or mercy, just a blind mechanical push forward.
It breached the tight muscle of your ass, pushing deeper and deeper, slick lube covered surface ensuring its smoothe entrance even as you trembled and gasped. The feeling of being filled in this was foreign, but pleasure lingered just under the painful burn of your opening being forced wider and wider.
“Can you cum like this?” Valentino asked, voice still so uninterested and business focused. “Can you cum from penetration alone?”
“I-” you gasped as the pace increased, two plastic cocks fucking into you again and again. “I haven’t.”
“I’d like to see if you can.” Valentino walked around behind you, watching the machine fuck into you faster and faster for a moment before changing the angle of the arms.
Your moans picked up in earnest with the change. The cock within your cunt slamming into something soft inside you, sparking sharp pleasure on its way to kiss your cervix.
The cock in your ass rubbed against the other, each thrust a violent reminder that you were stuffed full. The machine creaked slightly as the cocks fucked into you faster and faster. Each thrust drove you closer to the edge.
“You moan well,” Valentino observed from behind you, admiring the way your body swallowed cock before walking around you again.
That you were interviewing for a job with his productions no longer mattered to you. Was it that you couldn’t remember or that you just didn’t care? Pleasure was all you cared about. The way the cocks fucked into you and the pressure of the sawhorse against your body was what you cared about.
You only cared about how close you were to cuming. Valentino knelt in front of you, lifting your head by a handful of your pink hair. Locking eyes with him, the man who put you in this position was all it took for the coil to snap.
“Fuck,” you moaned, long and loud as your body tremble, unable to do anything but take the cocks. Strong convulsions ran through your core, gripping dildos in a desperate attempt to still them, to milk them. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
Valentino watched you for a moment longer, taking in the way saliva dribbled from your lips as you cried out again and again, orgasm giving way to sharp overstimulation. He stood after a few moments longer, walking around behind you to check the state of your holes.
He found they were soaked. You had made quite a mess of things at the moment of your orgasm. Valentino hummed as he powered off the machine, pushing it back from you until the cocks left you with a squelching pop. For a moment, he just stood there, watching your twitching holes. That always looked good on camera, too.
“You’re hired.”
Join us at VoxTek for a Vox themed Hazbin Discord where we talk Vox, Hazbin, writing, reading, art and who knows what else. You may even catch some exclusive sneak peeks at upcoming fics from some of your favorite writers including the first page of the next chapter of MisD a day early!!
#redfoxtober 2024#redfoxtober2024#valentino x reader#valentino x you#valentino x y/n#Hazbin valentino x reader#hazbin Valentino x you#hazbin valentino x y/n
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Sana’s Appointment
Smut, fluff and angst
Chapter 202
2095 Words
(Sana visits the doctor for an ultrasound and gets some news. Wants OC to take responsibility)
Jihyo and Mina walk towards Sana’s room and slowly open the door, “Hey Sana,” tiptoeing to the bed, “Sana, wake up. We are going to be late.” She slowly opens her eyes and looks at Jihyo and Mina, smiling at them. “Good morning.”
Momo prepares a light breakfast for three get ready. Jihyo comments, “We need to get there a bit earlier, especially since it’s your first sonogram.” They can see how happy and excited Sana is for today. “Were the both of you nervous when you got your first sonogram?”
“Yeah, I was happy and surprised. I thought I was only to one baby but didn’t know I would have triplets.” Mina’s reaction changes as she remembers how she ended up with twins, and Jihyo tries to change the topic when she notices Mina glomming. “Haha, I remember when I showed him the picture of Jisoo while she was still in my tummy; he almost cried when he saw her.”
“Why didn’t you ask him to come with you?” asks Momo.
“I didn’t want to bother him; he seemed busy these past few days. You know how he’s been spending the night in the studio, so I asked the both of you instead, my besties.”
“Do you think he’s going to be mad?” asks Mina.
“He’ll get over it,” replies Jihyo.
“You’re messed up,” laughs Momo.
“Anyways, let’s get ready. We need to go.”
After parking the car, Jihyo, Sana, and Mina walk into the clinic and are greeted by the two nurses from Dahyun’s visit. “Welcome Ms. Minatozaki. Please walk with us to your room.” The nurses escort Sana into her room. Jihyo and Mina sat beside her, trying to comfort her and grab her hand. “Since this is your first time with us, you must complete these documents. It’s just a questionnaire, so try answering it to the best of your ability.”
Sana looks at the documents confused, so Mina asks if she would like help filling it out. Sana eagerly nods and goes over the papers with Sana in a way she understands.
Meanwhile, Jihyo remembers one of the nurses from her pregnancy and begins a small conversation. The nurse says seeing her is nice and hopes the baby is doing well. She pulls out her phone and shows her a picture of Jisoo playing in a sandbox. The nurse comments on how similar she looks to her Jihyo and how cute she looks. Like a proud mother, she mentions some of Jisoo’s accomplishments in her development.
Hearing this and wanting to join the fun, Mina pulls out her phone with the twins. The nurse cannot help but be in awe how pretty their babies look.
The head nurse calls for the younger nurse to return, and Mina hands over the documents. “The doctor will be here soon, so let’s have Ms. Minatozaki change into these gowns,” as she hands them to Sana” bows and closes the door. Sana places the gowns on the examination table and undresses in front of Jihyo and Mina.
“Wow, unnie. You can see your little bump.” Sana smiles and asks, “Really? You can tell?” as she shows Jihyo and Mina her belly. They both place their hand on Sana’s tummy, “Hey there, little one. Don’t know if you’re a boy or girl or if you’re more than one, but can’t wait to see you in a couple of months,” says Jihyo.
“Are you excited, Sana?” asks Mina.
“I can’t wait to see my baby; I wonder if it’s a girl or a boy,” as she wiggles in her seat in joy.
“Sana, I don’t think you can tell until a few more months,” says Jihyo. “Hmm, I read online; you can vaguely tell during your seventh week, but you might have to wait until you’re sixteen weeks,” says Mina. Sana finishes putting on the gown and sits eagerly on the examination table, wiggling her feet.
Suddenly, there is a knock at the door, and a female doctor and the head nurse walk in with an ultrasound machine. “Good morning.” In unison, the members reply and laugh.
“Let’s have the lucky girl come here, and let’s take your measurements.” Sana hops off and walks towards the scale. “Don’t laugh, okay,” she warns her two members as she gets on the scale.
“Okay, let’s measure your height and get you back up to the examination table.” Sana shuffles to the table and tries to get on the table but isn’t tall enough to get on and gets help from Jihyo to get on. “Let’s have you lay down and have a little look at the tummy of yours. The nurse rolls the ultrasound machine over and hands the wand over to the doctor. She grabs a bottle of lube, places it around the wand, and squirts some on Sana’s belly.
“Haha, it’s cold!”
Sana squirms around to the cold gel but calms down when Jihyo tells him to stop.
The doctor then asks the nurse to turn on the monitor and places the wand against her belly. Everyone is focused on the monitor, trying to be the first to identify the fetus.
Being the professional she is, the doctor can find it, “Here on the screen, you can see how small the fetus is,” as she points at the screen. Sana eyes wander, but after some focus, she can see her baby in front of her.
“Is that really my baby?” The doctor nods, making Sana cry out in happiness. She can finally see her baby after longing for one for so long.
Sana asks, “Doctor, can you tell what gender it is?”
The doctor moves the wand more, trying to get a better view of the baby’s markings to identify its gender. After some search, she says, “It’s too early to be one hundred percent sure, but I believe it’s a boy,” pointing to the little nub in the screen.
The members have a shocked face, Sana with a large smile about having a baby boy, the first one in the family.”
“Congrats, Sana!” Jihyo and Mina hug Sana tightly. “I’m so happy! I can’t believe it, a baby boy.”
“You’re lucky, Sana. The first boy in the family.” Sana is happy by Jihyo’s comment. Even though she feels blessed with either gender, she does feel some satisfaction in having the first boy and is curious about how he will turn out, especially with her personality and yours in the mix.
“I’ve also noticed that you haven’t gained as much weight based on your records. What is your daily routine like?”
“Umm, I have coffee or a light breakfast if possible. If not, then I just wait for lunch after working out and practice.” The doctor notes everything Sana tells her in her notepad, “How frequent are your practices?”
“Right now, they are almost daily, swamped these past few weeks and look about the same for the following weeks.”
“Hmm, any stress?”
“A little… little bit more than usual since we are busy.”
“Any morning sickness?”
“How did you know?”
“Is it often?”
“It has been. It’s bad when I wake up; I have a lot of nausea.”
“Hmm, okay. What about sex? Are you sexually active?”
Jihyo and Mina scoff at the doctor’s question. Sana, on the other hand, can’t help but have a grin on her face. “Yes, is that bad?”
“No, it’s not bad. Actually, it’s a great stress reliever. I normally recommend it to my patients whenever they have a lot of things going on in their lives.”
“So the more sex, the better?” asks Jihyo.
“Yeah, you could say that. As long as it’s safe sex, then it’s okay.”
“So, is rough sex okay or anal okay?”
“Uhmm, for your first trimester, almost any position is fine. For your second and onwards, you might want to do what your body feels comfortable with. Anything with anal I would recommend your partner to wash up before going for vaginal right after.”
“Okay, I’ll listen to your words, doctor; lots of sex to help with stress.”
“Not just stress, but I would recommend a good balanced diet. Make sure you get all the nutrients your body needs to develop a healthy baby. I need you to visit a dietitian to make sure your baby grows up a bit more since it’s a bit smaller than it’s supposed to be.”
“Ohh, is that bad?”
“No, not now, but if you don’t eat well, rest, and mange your stress, it can be an issue in the long run.”
“Okay, I’ll be sure to follow your instructions to the letter,” giving her a fake but warm smile.
“Then, I want to see you in a few weeks to check up on your progress. I’ll also give you some brochures and a list of recommended dietitians.”
“Yes, doctor, thank you.”
The doctor and the nurse bow and exit with the machine in tow, closing the door.
With her fake smile still on, Sana is replaced with a long tear when the door is shut. Jihyo and Mina stand up and walk to Sana to comfort her, “It’s okay, Sana, everything is going to be fine. Your baby is going to grow up strong.”
“But the doctor said he’s small for his size.”
“If that’s the case, then we will make sure he grows up big and strong like his daddy, so we need to follow the doctor’s instructions.”
“Okay,” wiping the tear off her face.
The members prepare and head to the counter to get Sana’s ultrasound photo from the nurse. “Here you go. This folder has some useful brochures, dietitian information, and photos of your ultrasound. I’m going to schedule you for a couple of weeks. Is that okay?”
Jihyo nods yes to Sana and schedules a date that works best for them.
“Okay, let’s go home and rest briefly,” says Mina. They walk to the car, with Mina helping Sana in by opening the door. The drive is silent as they see Sana holding a picture of her ultrasound.
“Don’t worry, little one, I’m going to make sure you grow up nice and strong. Before you know it, you’ll be in my arms,” rubbing her belly throughout the ride.
————
Once they are home, Sana shares the picture with everyone. It doesn’t take long for them to get loud, especially when they find out she is having a boy. “Yah! You’re having a boy; congrats, Sana,” yells out Momo. “He’s going to get all the girls when he grows up like his daddy, especially if he has your personality.” The members laugh out loud, thinking of how the baby will turn out. “The girls are finally going to get a little brother,” says Nayeon.
“Are you jealous, Nayeon unnie?” asks Tzuyu.
“No, I’m just saying.”
“You should go for it, Nayeon unnie, give him another baby,” yells Chaeyoung.
“Yah, no, not yet,” shouts Nayeon.
“I… I want a baby, too!” shouts Tzuyu.
The members turn around and look at Tzuyu in shock and laugh at her innocent remark, causing her to pout.
The day continues, and the members rest for the day by watching tv, movies, lying on their bed, or taking naps. Sana pulls out her phone, takes a picture of one of the ultrasounds, and sends it to you, “Look at our baby, isn’t he cute? 😉”
You almost have a heart attack when you read the message, your first boy. While at the studio, you can’t help but think about having another child, especially with Sana. “Just a few more hours until I get home.”
When you arrive home late, and everyone is already in their rooms, you eat a few sandwiches left for you in the kitchen with a small note. You head to your room, get undressed, and head to the shower since you have another busy day tomorrow. Once you get out, you see Sana lying on your bed in sexy lingerie.
“What do you think?” showing off her perfect body.
“Sexy.”
“The doctor recommended me to have sex, and I’m horny right now,” exposing her nipple. You walk towards her, standing next to the bed. “Come on, pretty boy, you must take responsibility now that I’m pregnant with your child.” She looks down at the towel wrapped around your waist and notices it budging.
“Is that for me?” licking her lips. She pulls on the towel, causing it to fall and showing you all your glory. “This is going to be a fun night.”
#twice smut#kpop smut#twice fluff#kpop fluff#twice angst#kpop angst#TM smut#minatozaki sana#sana minatozaki
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anything on cruise ships? how it looks what's inside stuff like that?
This is a great resource: Ship Deck Plans
Just choose which cruise ship appeals to you. For example, I chose one at random, Radiance of the Seas:
You can then select which deck you want to view. Or you can click the "ship brochure", which gives you a description and more details on the exterior and interior:
Here's a sample brochure:
Other similar resources for cruise ship designs: 1 2 3
The Psychology of Cruise Ship Interior Design
Cruise design studios are experts in manipulating the guest’s emotions to ensure the best experience possible while travelling.
The core principles of design include balance, proportion, symmetry, and rhythm.
Executing each one successfully brings harmony to a space and can help to improve an interior’s emotional quality.
But through which methods are these achieved? Space, color, light, and texture all come together to form a cohesive work of interior design. But each aspect has its own variables that could alter a guest’s mood.
Space
Given the increasing number of guests sailing and the limited amount of space, designers must work to maximise each area of the room while maintaining a delicate balance and connection between each object featured.
On cruise ships, it’s important that spaces not only serve the purpose of creating a cohesive interior but also contribute towards effective passenger flow.
Color
White spaces induce a feeling of cleanliness and freshness. However, too much white could leave a room feeling sterile and clinical. Best featured: In small rooms you want to make feel larger.
Red is the color of love and passion, but did you know it can also boost metabolism and blood pressure? Best featured: As an accent color in restaurants and bars.
Pink evokes happiness and peace and is a calming tone. Considered a factor in appetite suppression, avoid pink when designing dining spaces. Best featured: In public spaces and children’s areas.
A well-loved color in the cruise industry, blue is one of the most versatile colors available. Light blues tend to encourage a sense of calm but be wary of dark blues which might make your guests feel gloomy. Best featured: In suites and spas.
Long ago purple was the color associated with royalty, and even now it contributes to feelings of luxury, creativity, and wealth. Bold colors like purple should be avoided in high quantities as, similarly to dark blue, it could leave your guests feeling down in the dumps. Best featured: In entertainment spaces.
“There are psychological elements you can use to help people leave [or stay in] a space.”
Light
Bold, bright, and beautiful or light, airy, and spacious: natural or artificial, lighting allows designers to foster the ideal setting for cruise guests.
Generally, designers favour natural light as it can boost feelings of happiness, as well as making spaces feel larger.
To create stunning light-filled spaces, designers can utilise glass panelling, something which isn’t always an option given the stringent weight restrictions on cruise ships.
While dim lighting can create a sense of gloominess, it can also help foster a cosy environment and encourage guests to stay put, (which is why you’re most likely to find it in spas, bars, and restaurants).
Meanwhile, bright lighting encourages movement, so will be found more frequently in fitness centres, lifts, and corridors.
Texture
While soft and silky textures can encourage intimacy and romance, raw, rugged textures contribute to organic, natural-looking interiors, in line with the trend of bringing the outdoors in.
Balance is key, especially when it comes to layering multiple textures.
Source ⚜ Writing Notes & References
#anonymous#cruise ship#interior#writeblr#dark academia#spilled ink#writing prompt#writers on tumblr#literature#poets on tumblr#poetry#design#worldbuilding#creative writing#light academia#studyblr#writing inspiration#writing ideas#writing inspo#writing reference#interior design#interior architecture#writing resources
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Little Bit Better Than I Used To Be
Catch up: Chapter 1 (Starry Eyes) || Chapter 2 (Save Our Souls) || Chapter 3 (Dancing On Glass)|| Chapter 4 (Merry-Go-Round)|| Backstage (1) || Backstage (2) || Chapter 5 (Danger)|| Backstage (3) || Chapter 6A (Love Walked In) || Chapter 6B (Without You) || Backstage (4) || Chapter 7 (Stick To Your Guns) || Chapter 8 (Time For Change) || Backstage (5) || Chapter 9 (Take Me To The Top) || Backstage (6) || Chapter 10 (Home Sweet Home) || Backstage (7) || Chapter 11a (Nightrain) || Chapter 11b (Nothing Else Matters) || Chapter 12a (Handle With Care) || Chapter 12b (I’m So Tired of Being Lonely) || Chapter 13a (Angel) || Chapter 13b (She’s My Addiction) || Chapter 13c (Patience) || Chapter 14a (Where Do We Go Now?) || Chapter 14b (Where Do We Go Now?) || Chapter 14c (Where Do We Go Now?) || Chapter 15a (Dreams) || Chapter 15b (I Sing A Song of Love) || Chapter 15c (You Can Do This If You Try) || Chapter 16 (Let That Feeling Grab You Deep Inside || Chapter 17A: Never Tear Us Apart || Chapter 17B: It’s Tough To Be Somebody, And It’s Hard Not To Fall Apart || Chapter 17C: I’m Wishing, Lord, That I Was Stoned || Chapter 18: Turn The Page || Chapter 19A: When You’re Alone, Do You Let Go? || Chapter 19B: Heading For A Spin || Chapter 20A: I Don’t Need Nothing When I’m By Your Side || Chapter 20B: I’m Walkin’ Down This Rocky Road || Chapter 20C: You're The Only One Who Gets Through To Me ||| Also posted at AO3
Chapter 20D: Together We Can Make It A Dream
What you need is what I want So don't be afraid, let it show Don't be afraid, just let it explode We have got the power to build the highest tower Standing with our feet on the ground We've got what it takes, together we can make it Together we can blow the house down…
-- “Blow The House Down,” Living In A Box (1989) [click here to listen]
North Carolina || February 1989
Dinner was delicious. They all consciously kept the conversation light and fun.
Claire was particularly interested to hear Raymond’s impressions from walking around the property – about twenty acres in all, including woods and a pond. Jamie eagerly discussed the barn, now home to their vehicles (Jamie’s black 1965 Corvette, Jamie’s cherry red Dodge Charger, Jamie’s Harley-Davidson, and Claire’s powder blue Datsun that proved to be the perfect, practical go-to-town car) for the winter.
“I’m thinking of making it a proper home studio,” he said, scraping the remnants of chili from his bowl. “With a sound board and everything. Will give us more space in the house.”
“And it won’t be so loud,” Claire smiled, sipping her ice water, left hand entwined with Jamie’s under the table.
“It’s beneficial to have a little separation,” Raymond reflected. “When I started my private practice, I was given very good advice to rent an office space. There was a higher up-front cost, but patients certainly didn’t want to see me in my living room.”
“Speaking of which…”
Raymond immediately turned to face Claire. Encouraging.
Claire smiled softly, before continuing. “I want to get back to medicine – after we get back from Europe.” She paused. “My license transfer finally came through from Massachusetts a few weeks ago. I don’t want to open a private practice – it wouldn’t be fair to patients, if I’ll be on the road with Jamie, or here at home with children. But there’s a clinic in town where I can start picking up hours. I’ve already talked with them about it.”
“That would be wonderful, Claire.” Raymond’s smile was genuine. “And good to have that day-to-day interaction with patients again. You must not have had that too frequently in your last job.”
She shook her head. “By the end, my only direct interaction with patients was to consult their surgeries, before I would cut into them. I was very far removed from the daily grind. So incredibly different than at the very beginning right out of medical school.” She darted a smile at Jamie. “Though all those hours in the ER did come in handy on tour. I stitched and bandaged up quite a few wounds, splinted a few broken fingers. Jamie doesn’t understand when I say it, but I truly enjoyed doing that.”
“I just don’t get why she’d ever get excited at the sight of blood,” he smiled. “But it makes her happy.” He paused, and turned to look at her straight on. “It would make me happy, Claire, for you to spend more time at the clinic. Even now, in time we have left before it all gets crazy again. I…” He swallowed. “I want you to make something of your own, here in North Carolina. To get back to your roots.”
She beamed at him. He darted in for a quick kiss, feeling no hesitation in front of Raymond.
“Remind me when you’ll be in Los Angeles?”
“Two and a half weeks until we leave.” Jamie helped himself to another ladle of chili. “I’ve got three weeks of rehearsals – the band hasn’t played together since October. While we’re there, we’ll be meeting with the label, and maybe book a day or two in the studio. Probably a show or two, something small.”
“And then a week home here in April,” Claire added, “before flying to England to kick off the tour.”
“120 dates and counting.” Jamie sighed. “We’re booked two, three dates in most cities, though fortunately we’ve got at least a day in between cities to travel. We’re headlining all kinds of festivals. And then in August we have two weeks off – ”
“Three,” Claire chimed in.
“…and Claire and I are torn between coming back home, or going for a European vacation somewhere.”
“We don’t need to decide now,” she said softly. “Plus, if I’m pregnant by then…”
Jamie kissed her temple.
“I’ve been thinking about how we’ll work together on this tour.” Raymond pushed aside his empty bowl and pulled a small spiral notepad from the inside pocket of his blazer. He pushed back the cover, made a quick note with the pen tucked behind his ear, and looked across the table at Jamie and Claire.
“We’re open to whatever you suggest,” Claire said softly. “I hope you know that about us by now.”
“I do. I’ve been going back and forth between whether to do something in a structured way, especially given the logistical challenges and the travel. But I think that in order for both of you to get the support you need from me, we’ll need to aim for as much structure as possible.”
“I agree,” Jamie nodded, wrapping an arm around Claire’s shoulders. “Consistency will be key. Claire and I – this last tour, we tried to stick to the same schedule every day.”
“For show days, anyway,” she added.
Raymond flipped to a new page, pen poised. “And I assume that would be roughly the same, this tour?”
Claire nodded. “Wake up call at 830 or 9 AM. Wake up, love each other, order breakfast to the room, shower. Limo to the venue at 1130. Get to the venue, have lunch, band does soundcheck. That’s done by 2 PM. Then free time at the venue. Sometimes Colum meets with the band. Sometimes the band hangs out together, plays music – that’s where a lot of new songs come from. Sometimes I’ll spend time with Angus’ girlfriends, or reading in Jamie’s dressing room, or just being alone with Jamie and enjoying the quiet. All of us use that time to catch up on phone calls. I try to call Uncle Lamb and my friends Joe and Gail Abernathy a few times a week.”
“And to think that a year ago, she’d never been on the road like this,” Jamie smiled.
Claire blushed prettily. “Dinner usually at 6 or 630. Then the band gets dressed, sometimes does fan meet-and-greets or press interviews. The opening act starts at 8. About 45 minutes of the opener, and then it’s showtime.”
Jamie pushed back his empty bowl. “And after the gig, we do a quick band huddle to talk about the show. Sometimes with Colum and also our road manager. Claire and I are usually in the limo back to the hotel by midnight, if we’re not traveling. If we are, then sometimes we fly after the gig and sometimes it’s first thing in the morning.”
Raymond scribbled on the pad. “It’s good to have so much structure. Did you feel the same way?”
Jamie nodded. “Definitely. Claire?”
“Yes,” she agreed. “Especially when we’re in a new place every few days.”
“And when during the day would you have the panic attacks, Jamie?”
Jamie frowned. “After dinner. Sometimes during the free time in the afternoon.”
“One time in the hotel room, after we got back from the show,” Claire added gently. “And a few times in the morning, when we were waiting for the limo. Once, in the limo.”
“Do you see that with your other patients, Raymond?”
Raymond looked up from his notebook. “That panic attacks come at any time, without a particular pattern? Yes. Though especially with the combat vets, something in their environment acts as a trigger. Do you ever feel anxious to perform, Jamie?”
Jamie shook his head. “I fucking love it, Raymond. To play my music, with my band…to hear thousands of people singing the words I wrote, and so into the music and the whole experience we give them…there’s really nothing else like it. It’s a high, for sure. Better than any drug.”
Jamie squeezed Claire’s hand. “And the only feeling that’s better than when I’m on stage, is when I’m loving Claire.”
Raymond set down his pen, and flipped back a few pages in his notebook. “So it’s not triggered by the performance itself. And I assume you don’t get anxious or claustrophobic on buses or airplanes?”
“Nope. I’ve never had a problem with that.”
“And were your days so consistent before? When you were using?”
“Yes and no. The broad strokes of it, yes – though add ‘whiskey’ and ‘coke’ and ‘girls’ to any of the time I had to myself.” He paused, thinking. “After the show most nights, I wouldn’t go back to the hotel right away. I’d celebrate with the roadies and some girls, usually hit up a strip club, not make it back to my hotel until dawn. Obviously I don’t do that anymore.”
“You’re just an old man who likes being tucked up in bed with his lawfully wedded wife,” Claire teased.
“You know it,” Jamie smiled.
Raymond scribbled on a fresh sheet in his notebook. Absently running his hand through his hair. Clearly thinking.
“All right,” he said, after a while. “Before I walk you through my plan – I need to ask you something. Both of you.”
To be continued…
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Midnight Visitor
Rating: Explicit +18
Pairing: BTAA! Scarecrow x F!Reader
I really wanted to write something about the Scarecrow from the Audio Adventures. I love his voice and his mannerisms so much. Sorry if this a little OOC, i think i wasn't able to portray him exactly right, but I hope you like this and let me now if I forgot to mention a trigger warning.
Ao3
+18 Minors DNI!!! Fear Play, Mildly Dubious Consent, Breathplay if you squint, Vaginal Sex.
The waiting room is practically empty when you come in. The only person in there is Miss Gold and she seems to be getting ready to leave for her lunch break.
"Hello, Miss Gold," your voice breaks the silence, making her jump on her chair.
Miss Gold snaps her head in your direction, laughing softly with a hand on her chest when she realizes is actually you.
"Oh, hello, Mrs. Crane. I was sou caught that you startled me."
Miss Gold has been Jonathan's secretary for almost two years. She was a little shorter than you, wearing high heels to make up for the missing inches. Her round, rosy cheeks reminded you of a peach, matching her plumper silhouette. Her clothes were often pastel and soft, which made her stand out in the dull environment of the clinic.
Although Miss Gold was sweet and helpful, she always had this nervous expression on her face, looking like she was on the verge of an anxiety attack constantly. You needed to have a conversation with Jonathan to find out what kind of pressure he was putting on the poor secretary.
"I'm sorry. It wasn't my intention to sneak in like this," you say, approaching her table. "I came to bring Jonathan's lunch. Is he here?"
Miss Gold nods, "Yes, he is, dear. Would you like me to let him know you're here?"
"You don't have to, thank you. Go enjoy your lunch, Miss Gold. I will take care of the doctor now.”
You say goodbye before she leaves and you knock on Jonathan's door, his voice on the other end signaling you to come in.
"What's so important, Miss-" Jonathan lifts his head towards you, the annoyed expression on his face being washed away when he lays his eyes on you, a small smile forming on the corners of his lips.
You can't help but shiver as you walk over to his desk. The old, dark furniture gave the room a gloomy air, the dim lights creating strange shadows. But what made you feel more uneasy were the old Argus Studios posters hanging on the walls. Basil Karlo's wicked gaze followed you wherever you went.
You try to shake off that feeling when Jonathan gets up and meets you halfway.
"What do I owe the pleasure of your honorable presence?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.
You pull him by his orange tie – the same one you had gifted him last Christmas – until he was at your level and you could kiss him on the cheek.
"You forgot that at home, so I thought I'd stop by to deliver it to you," you lift the lunchbox, handing it to him.
He slaps a hand on his forehead, giving a breathy chuckle as he shakes his head. "What would I do without my dear wife?"
"You would probably end up forgetting your head somewhere," you pat him at the shoulder before sitting down on the therapy couch.
Jonathan just nods, sitting next to him. He opens the package, admiring for a few seconds what you had packed before he started eating.
You watch him finish the salad in just a few bites and then stuff his mouth full of spaghetti. He licks his lips, letting out a few moans of delight between bites.
"Good to know you still like my food," you comment out Loud.
"How could I not? That was one of the main reasons I married you."
You try to look offended by giving him a weak slap on the arm, but you can't hide your smile when he starts laughing.
"You're terrible!"
"You can't go back now. Until death do us part, remember?" he shrugs as if there's nothing you can do. “Besides, we both know you’re crazy about me."
You roll your eyes at him, but your fingers troke your wedding ring, a warm sensation spreading across your chest.
"You look hungry. What would you have eaten if I hadn’t brought your lunch?"
He shrugs as he finishes chewing. "I probably would have asked Miss Gold to buy me something. Don't worry."
But it was impossible not to worry. In these last months, Jonathan left early in the morning and returned only late at night. He said he was too busy at the office and that you shouldn't wait for him awake. Even then you always woke up when he arrived home and helped him take off his clothes, only being able to talk for a few minutes until he fell asleep exhausted.
Of course you were grateful for the comfortable life his jobs provided, and you were very proud of his career as a doctor and professor, but you didn't want him to work until he killed himself.
You run your fingers through his hair, brushing a few strands off his forehead. He definitely needed a cut. On top of that, he looked even thinner and the dark circles under his eyes were getting bigger. But even after all these years together, he was still the man of your dreams. A little mean and weird, but you didn't want it any other way.
Jonathan stares at you, his gaze as warm and loving as ever. But at the same time it seemed so far away, as if he wasn't really there.
"Today they're going to reprise some classic horror movies. What do you think? You, me, a bucket of popcorn?" you propose.
"I'm sorry, dear. Not today. I have some tests that I need to go through and-" Jonathan begins to explain himself, but you interrupt him.
"It's okay, you have work to do. I get it.”
You bite your tongue, hating how angry you sound. You didn't want to take your frustrations out on him, but you missed Jonathan so much. You missed dancing with him as he hummed some silly music he made up. To watch the classic horror movies he loved so much. To simply be able to talk to him without Jonathan falling asleep in the middle of a sentence. And you missed the sex, too.
Jonathan was still affectionate, of course, but the caresses and touches boiled down to a quick kiss before he left or a hug when he arrived. Nothing more than that. Now, Jonathan left a void around the house, like a ghost walking in the halls.
He places the lunch box on the coffe table, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "You're upset, I understand.”
You move your gaze to your lap. "I'm not upset. I'm just... tired. I’ve barely seen you these last few days."
He puts his hand over yours, his skin feeling cold against your own.
"I know these past months have been difficult. But I'll make it up to you," he strokes your cheek, tilting your chin to look into your eyes. "I promise."
You really want to believe him, but a part of you suspects that these are empty promises. This behavior will keep repeating itself and you will keep forgiving him, until eventually you drift further apart.
A paranoid little voice in the back of your mind suggests a hypothesis for Jonathan's absence and you hate yourself for thinking about something like that. What if he was cheating on you? What if all this distance over the past few months was actually someone between you.
Jonathan wasn't that kind of man, but the voice kept repeating. What if? What if he had grown tired of you? What if that person was more beautiful? Or more interesting? What if they made him happier than you?
The idea makes your stomach turn and you swallow dry. You pull your hand from his grip, getting up from the couch.
"I should go," you say as you put the lunchboxes back in the bag. "After all, you have a lot of work to do."
You feel numb as Jonathan follow you to the door, barely feeling the goodbye kiss he places on your forehead.
You wish you had walked out of the office hoping that things would get better or at least satisfied that this is just a temporary crisis that all couples have to face at some point.
Instead, doubt and a feeling of distress accompany you all the way home.
——
You stir awake, being pulled slowly from your dreams. Everything seems hazy and fuzzy as you run you fingers over Jonathan’s bedside, but you only find his side cold and empty. You sigh in frustration, letting your head sink against the pillow again. You should be used to it by now.
The alarm on your bedside table signals that it's past midnight, the numbers on the digital clock flashing through the darkness of the room. You snuggle under the covers again, almost forgetting what woke you up in the first place. Sleep is so tempting and you start to drift off.
But an insistent sound keeps you awake. You stare at the ceiling, your eyes getting used to the darkness as you begin to make out what exactly the noise was.
Steps. Someone was walking around the apartment.
You pull the sheets, the sole of your foot meeting the cold floor. You try not to assume the worst as you get out of bed. Maybe it was just Jonathan coming home from work.
You step into the hallway, turning on the switch, but the light bulb flickers a few time before the shadows envelop you once more. You sigh, cursing yourself silently. The hallway light wasn’t working properly and you were supposed to change it weeks ago.
You walk slowly with your arms extended in front of your body so you don’t bump into anything until you can reach the bathroom door. You turn the lights on and a momentary feeling of safety rushes over you. Everything looks okay in the bathroom, so you decide to let the lights on and the door open to let a little bit o the light illuminate the hallway.
After that you go to check the living room and the kitchen. Your thin nightgown isn't enough to keep you warm on that cold night and you hug yourself, a shiver running through your skin.
You finally go to the front door to test the handle. To your relief, is locked and the bolt was in place. Even though you lived in a safe neighborhood you still had your fears, after all, Gotham is Gotham. You can never be too sure.
Maybe it was just a dream? You wonder for a second until you notice the light in Jonathan's office leaking through the small crack in the door. As you get closer, the sound of mumbling and papers being flipped through becomes more noticeable. Jonathan was really incorrigible. After hours at his office, he brought even more work home.
"Jon, you should go to bed," you stop in front of the door, rubbing your eyes until they get used to the brightness of the room.
You had the clear image of Jonathan in your head. He'd be sitting behind his desk with a tired expression on his face, pen hanging loose in his hand while he is finishing giving grades fos his students’ tests. You would whisper in a sweet tone and stroke his hair until he agreed to follow you back to bed.
Instead, your heart sinks as your eyes fall on the stranger leaning over Jonathan's desk, papers scattered everywhere. He was tall and thin, wearing a brown suit. His face was covered by a patched mask, a rope around his neck.
You've heard and read countless stories about him, but you never expected that one day you'd come face to face with the Scarecrow.
Sleep is a distant thing now. The adrenaline coursing through your veins makes your whole body tense, your feet stuck on the ground. Your instincts scream at you to run, fight, do anything, but the idea of moving seems impossible. All you can do is watch transfixed as Scarecrow stares at you from across the room, a heavy, suffocating silence forming between the two of you.
For some reason he seems as surprised as you do, as if he didn't expect someone to show up.
He walks around the table with slow steps, his hands raised in the air. "Hush. I didn't come here to hurt you," he sounds calm and... strangely familiar. But the grim smile sewn into his mask doesn't help to reassure you.
This is like a nightmare. The kind where you stay in the same place while running, unable to distance yourself from the monster that chases you, no matter how hard you try. But now, the monster wouldn't disappear when you opened your eyes. No matter how much you blink, he's still there.
He's only a few inches away, his hand almost touching your arm, when your feet finally work again and you run out of the room, heading towards the kitchen.
You can hear the Scarecrow right behind you through the rapid beating of your heart, his footsteps reverberating against the hardwood floor, but you don't dare look back.
Your first extinct is to open one of the drawers to grab the biggest knife you can find. You turn just in time to see the Scarecrow standing in the kitchen doorway, your trembling hands gripping the handle of the knife as you point the blade at him. The shadows cast strange shapes on his face, making the smile on his mask seem even bigger. For a moment he looks like one of the monsters from Jonathan's movies.
"Don't come closer!" you scream.
He ignores your order, taking one step toward you and then another. Approaching in the same careful manner that a predator approaches its prey.
You swallow, your wobbly legs seeming to be unable to bear your own weight. "If you come any closer I-I... I'm going to hurt you."
He pauses for a moment, tilting his head as he studies you. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves ma’am. You don't want to make any rash decisions."
"Stay away from me! My husband is going to arrive any moment and he's going to-"
The Scarecrow throws his head back in a cruel laugh that sends a shiver down your spine, as if you've said something stupid.
"Look at you, trying to rationalize with fear. So brave," he shakes his head, approaching again.
With every step he takes, you take another step back in a futile attempt to increase the distance between you. You keep retreating until you're backed against the kitchen counter and that's when it lunges at you. He slaps your hand, throwing your knife across the room.
You try to scream, but he presses his hand over your mouth to muffle your cries for help. You flinch at the sensation of the cold leather of his gloves on your skin, his fingers sinking into the flesh of your arm.
You're like a deer at headlights, too scared to fight for your survival. He was so close now, you could see his eyes through the holes in the mask, deep brown circles staring back at you. His pupils were dilated, he was enjoying it.
To your horror, he presses his face against your neck. He inhales deeply against your skin, letting out a satisfied hum. The hair on the back of your neck stands up and you shiver against his grip.
"You’re afraid, aren’t you? You’re afraid, and it’s delicious,” he whispers close to your ear, his voice becoming dark and low as he takes a sharp inhale. "Mmm. You fear is so sweet, I can almost taste it on my tongue. Oh, darling. You're terrified," he laughs hoarsely.
You close your eyes so tightly that you can see little white spots. The whole world seems to spin and you feel dizzy. Would he drug you with the fear gas that all the news have been talking about? Or maybe force you to swallow some of the drugs he makes that look like Halloween candy? You can only think of Jonathan coming home to find your lifeless body lying on the kitchen floor.
The sob you let out goes almost unnoticed and you think he'll just ignore you, but the Scarecrow leans back, your eyes meeting as tears roll down your face.
"Shhh. No crying. Those aren't the kind of tears I want from you," he says in a soft, almost soothing tone as he strokes your hair. "I'll let you talk now, but don't scream. Got it?"
You nod as best you can and he finally pulls his hand off of you. Your tongue feels heavy inside your mouth when you try to speak.
"Wha... What are you going to do with me?" you ask.
"I'm still deciding," he shrugs.
"I don't have anything you want."
"Maybe I don't want something you have. Maybe I want you to do something for me. Have you thought about that?"
His words take a second to fully hit you. You wish you had misunderstood, but it was impossible not to notice the way he looked at you, how his eyes traveled up and down your body. Your breath gets caught in your throat and you shake your head.
"Please don't. I... I have a husband and he-"
Scarecrow interrupts you with a loud sigh. "You keep talking about your husband, but where is he?"
You open your mouth to answer him, but close it right away, pressing your lips into a thin line. You didn't know where Jonathan really was. Maybe he wasn't even in the office. What if he had lied to you?
He continues in a low tone, as if he's telling you a secret. "What kind of husband leaves his wife like that? So lonely. So vulnerable," one of his hands goes down slowly to caress the bare flesh of your thigh while the other grips your waist. You are startled by the feeling of his hands on you, how his touch is surprisingly slow and sensual. You find yourself thinking about Jonathan for a second before remembering that he's not the one touching you.
"Were you waiting for him? That's why you're wearing this nightgown? How lovely," his laugh makes your cheeks heat up. "Lucky me."
He drags his hand up your stomach, running along your sides, teases one of your breasts until your nipple is a stiffen bud underneath your nightgown. You try to look distant on the outside, but it’s impossible to deny the wetness forming between your legs. You bite the inside of your cheek hard enough to hold in any noises.
You don't want that. You don't want his hands on you. You don't want his body against yours. But you can't remember the last time you felt wanted. It's been so long since you and Jonathan had sex. You're so tired of feeling alone.
Even with these ideas running through your head, you place a hand against his chest, opening up a bit of space between the two of you.
"No. That's not right," you say, "I don't... I don't want this."
"Oh, don't be like that," he whispers, rubbing his face against you neck. "That could be our little secret. I'm not going to tell anyone. I promise."
The air is drawn out of your lungs, as if you've been punched in the stomach. You turn your head slowly, the words stuck in your throat.
"Jonathan?" you mutter.
His body tenses suddenly, and he tilts his head back, staring at you wide-eyed, like a child who just got caught with his hand inside the cookie jar. How could you not have noticed before? Maybe it was fear confusing your senses, but all the signs were there. The same tall, slender silhouette, the long limbs, the deep brown eyes. The same voice. The same laugh.
He breaks the silence with a low laugh, shaking his head.
"I knew I couldn't fool your forever. You always have been so smart."
He lifts the mask slowly, revealing every bit of his face. The face you knew so well. Jonathan's face.
A million questions cross your mind, but before you can say anything Jonathan presses you against the counter again, capturing your lips.
You gasp and throw a fist into his chest, pressing your teeth against his bottom lip, biting hard enough to hurt, but this jusy makes Jonathan growls like a mad dog. His hands run all over your body, not knowing where to stop. He tugs at your nightgown, the cold air sending shivers through your skin as he grabs and squeezes every bit of flesh he can reach.
The kiss is demanding and sloppy, his hot tongue trailing across your lips and invading your mouth. All you can do is hold on to Jonathan as if your life depended on it, making him grunt as your nails sink into his covered back.
There's something familiar about how your bodies move in sync. A sensual dance that the two of you had done thousands of times before. But now there's a hunger behind Jonathan's movements, something possessive, as if he won’t let you escape. Maybe you were as hungry as he was.
The next moment your world changes perspective as Jonathan turns you around, lowering you down onto the kitchen counter until your cheek is pressed against the cold surface. You moan softly as he lifts the thin material of your nightgown, his mouth leaving warm kiss on the skin of your back.
He pulls your panties down, kicking your legs apart. You were practically naked, while Jonathan was fully clothed, having only taken off his mask and gloves. You feel so exposed, nothing to hide yourself while Jonathan stares at you laid bare before him.
You can hear him shuffling behind you, undoing his own belt and pants in a hurry. You turn your head just in time to see him approaching, his flushed cock pressing against your pussy, making you both grunt together. You don't even care if it hurts, all you want is Jonathan inside you. Filling you completely. Fuck, you want him so bad.
He gathers some of your wetness, his dick sliding in between your folds in slow movements. You moan softly when the tip catches on your clit, the sweet sensation making you buckle your hips towards him.
"Jonny..." you whine, "Please."
Jonathan laughs in a mocking tone, but you know he's not in the mood for teasing either.
You’re wet enough so there is no resistance as he presses intou you, your walls stretching to accommodate his cock. Jonathan moves slowly, leaving you’re both panting when he’s fully inside you. The pain and the pleasure mix deliciously, you missed him so much.
The first thrust takes the air out of your lungs. The second makes your legs tremble. The third makes your back arch and a sweet sound leave your lips. He keeps rutting against you, slow and deep. The wet sound of your bodies combined and your moans reverberate through the walls.
"You're the perfect victim, you know?" he says in between grunts, "You're so beautiful when you're scared. Oh, and when you started running – Fuck... I almost lost my mind. I wanted to take you right there on the floor."
You clench around him, driving him even deeper into you. Jonathan realizes the effect his words have on you, giving you a breathless chuckle.
"Did you like that? Do you like the idea of a maniac fucking you?"
The idea shouldn't be so tempting, but you can't stop thinking about Jonathan hiding in the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment to reveal himself and pull you into the darkness with him, where he could do whatever he wanted to you.
You nod weakly and he grips you tighter, his nails leaving half-moon marks on the soft skin of your waist. His pace is brutal now, your body moving everytime his hips hits your backside.
"Next time... Hah... I'll give you some of the toxin, just enough to keep you on the edge and a little scared," he takes a sharp breath, throwing his head back, "And then... I'm going to put on my mask and I'm going to fuck you until you beg me to stop."
You open your mouth, but you can’t form words to save your life, so you reach out behind you
to something to hold until your fingers find the rope around Jonathan’s neck and you pull him towards you. He lets out a surprised sound, turning into a sinful moan. His chest is against your back, his chin resting on your shoulder.
It’s good. It’s so fucking good. You can’t believe you almost forgot how good it was to have him inside you. You make a silent promise to never let him leave again.
One of his hands moves around your body, his fingers meeting your throbbing clit. He makes quick circles around it, pinching and pressing on it hard. For a moment it all seems too much and not enough at the same time. His cock moving inside you, the pressure on your clit. It was overwhelming in the best kind of way.
With your cheek pressed against the counter and tears streaming down your face, you can feel your orgasm approaching. Behind you, Jonathan's movements get more and more out of rhythm and you know he's not that far away either.
He keeps one hand in between your legs while the other lays flat on your mid section, pulling you close to him, your bodies still glued together.
"Tell me -Ah... Tell me who I am,” he mumbles, cheek nuzzled in your temple. “Tell me what I am,” almost sound like he is begging and you could never say no to him.
"Scarecrow!" the word leaves your lips before you know it. "You're the Scarecrow."
"Yes! That’s right! That’s right, good girl. My good girl,” his praise goes straight to your pussy and you squeeze him impossibly tight.
You throw your head back, stretching your neck until you can kiss him. It’s all teeth and tongue while he keeps moving inside you with shallow thrusts.
Your orgasm hits you so hard that almost hurts. The knot in your lower belly finally snaps and the wave of carnal bliss washes over your. Jonathan comes right after you. He curses between clenched teeth, his hips curling, his breath hot on your skin as he fills your cunt with hot wads of cum.
You both breathe heavily in the middle of the kitchen, your sweaty bodies intertwined perfectly. Thank God he is holding you, because you barely can feel your legs and if it weren’t for him you know you would be on the floor by this point.
Jonathan snuggles up against your neck, murmuring something sweet, but your mind is too hazy now to hear him. You bring a hand up to his head, stroking his hair.
As you come down from you high, reality finally hits you. One of Gotham's most wanted criminals just came inside you and now he's cuddling you. Oh, and coincidentally, he's your husband... Fuck.
#jonathan crane#the scarecrow#jonathan crane x reader#scarecrow x reader#scarecrow smut#btaa scarecrow#batman rouges#rogue gallery#jonathan crane x you#scarecrow x you
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Steel in Her Veins, Chapter: Four
Table of Contents | Next Chapter
Characters: Fem!Reader x Roronoa Zoro
Chapter Four: A Cyborg, A Skeleton and A Lot of Limbs Walk Into A Shop…
You’ve always liked early mornings. Those moments where everything remains silent, untouched, and it feels like only you can drift across the earth like a ghost. You love to be the first witness of the sun stirring from its own slumber, where you can sit down and think and think and think and know that the day still hasn’t started yet. You’re relieved because you know you’re not wasting your day. This is just the entrée to the main course.
With a cup of coffee pressed against your red-hot palms, you lay against your workbench and admire the mild light that filters through the door. Your eyes slightly drift across your studio, taking in the heap of unrestored mess made from yesterday. You let out a pent-up sigh... Well, at least you’re getting some help with that.
From a distance, you pick up on the faint form of Gramps ambling towards you, making you almost smile in greeting – almost. Because as you strain your eyes harder, you realise that there’s another person who’s towering beside him, silently listening to the excitable one-sided conversation made by your old man.
Much to your unsurprise, it’s him.
You observe him silently, tapping a thoughtful finger against your mug.
Huh. He’s still wearing those hilts by his hip, you notice. Any other wielder would opt to throw those empty carcasses away by now.
Somehow sensing you, the marimo cocks his head and his eye naturally falls onto yours. His golden earrings dance in the morning light like a flickering flame, making sound only gold can elicit from a breeze. The light brushes across his closed eye, uncovering the deep white scars of his history, and for a split second, you begin to wonder about them.
From a distance, he narrows his piercing gaze with a questioning brow, and undeterred as you are, you stare straight back at the green-head.
Without breaking your gaze, the two men near you, and Gramps being as oblivious as ever is still completely lost in his own line of conversation.
“And that’s why Kotetsu, from eons ago, favoured the ores from the Rippling Ground rather than the—"
“Good morning,” you interrupt, deciding to offer relief to the marimo from your babbling old man.
Gramps beams at you, waving a calloused hand in greeting. He turns to the marimo, having to dramatically crane his head up to look at him. “I told you she’d be awake.”
“I haven’t started on the swords, if that’s why you’re here…” you curiously state, cocking your head at the samurai.
As Bull-Head opens his mouth to reply, Gramps interjects giddily.
“I invited him here.”
Oh, well that figures. You know your Gramps sees something in this guy, but you don’t really get what it is.
You take another long look at the scarred marimo, which he returns with an expressionless countenance.
“What?” He gruffly snaps.
You smirk a little, walking towards your forge. “Did you fall out of bed? Your hair’s sticking up.”
You don’t need to turn around to see it happen – you hear the man hiss to himself as he pats over his head aimlessly.
“I met the others by the dock,” Gramps Sukiyaki informs with a little grin on his weathered face. “Funny bunch, they are!”
You can’t help but smile at his elated demeanour; it seems like the Straw Hats are definitely improving his mood in these days. You can’t help but like the fact that they’re all most certainly clinically insane.
“Raya!” Nami shouts from the field, jogging with Chopper on her shoulder. “We brought a few more of us than expected, I hope that’s okay!”
Chopper apologetically grins at you as they enter through the wide door. “More like - we couldn’t stop them from coming…”
You push off from your stool and smile at the two, shaking your head. “That just means more helpful hands!”
Three odd figures begin to file in after Nami and Chopper, excitedly looking around the studio with freshly intrigued eyes.
“Woah! Luffy wasn’t lying about this place,” the metallic man exclaims wildly, stomping through your workspace like a kid in a candy shop.
“Yo-ho! This energy…this soul - I can feel it in my bones!” The…speaking skeleton…grins, clambering along inside with the robot.
Clang! Rattle!
“Don’t just fucking walk in before introducing yourselves!” Nami yells, her hand steaming from a fresh beating.
“Hello, I’m Robin.” The dark-haired woman smiles at you, gazing at the rack of freshly made weapons besides her. “Wow, you’re very talented.”
Disoriented from the bombard of stomping guests, it takes you a second to register her words.
“Oh…uh – thank you. I’m Koz—” You immediately halt, swearing intensely at yourself at the blunder you were about to make. “I’m Tenguyama Raya.”
In an instant, Robin’s eyes widen for a fraction of a second before she tries to compose herself.
Shit. Shit. Shit, you think. Did you accidentally ruin your cover just now?
“Nice to meet you,” the cyborg weakly interrupts, a robotic arm clutching at his swollen back. Nami hovers behind the two wounded crewmates, animalistically breathing against their necks. “I-I’m Franky.”
The damaged skeleton sweats anxiously, side-eyeing Nami who’s growling at him under her breath.
“I-I’m Brook.”
All of this sounds like some kind of joke: A cyborg and a skeleton walk into a shop…
“We heard you needed some extra hands,” Robin explains, crossing her forearms in the formation of an ‘X’.
Consecutively, an army of limbs sprout up from the ground like baby tree saplings, slowly taking shape as pale, wriggling hands.
“What the fuck?” You shout loudly, jumping away from a hand that crawls past your feet.
Robin laughs at your reaction. “I ate a—"
“Yeah, I can see that!” You excitably exclaim, crouching down to watch the assembly of hands picking up your scattered belongings. “This is so efficient for make-shift manufacturing assemblies! Not to mention the amount of work you could do at the same time…I’m envious…”
A skeletal hand slides in front of your eyes, making you yelp out loud and lose your footing.
“What the fuck?” You repeat again, arms fearfully flaring up with fire, about to kick whoever’s zombie-ass that was.
Brook yelps like you do, putting his hands in front of him.
“Ho-ho, I’m surprised I wasn’t the one who scared you first!” He flashes his teeth in a forced grin, making him look more constipated than friendly.
“I’m so sorry -- you took me off guard,” you stammer, frantically looking around at the crazy bunch of people who’ve entered your shop. You thought Luffy was too much too handle, but it seems like his whole crew is, too.
As you begin to stand, your eyes accidentally brush past the skeleton’s hip on your way up – wait, what is that? A purple cane? But… its makeshift tip looks similar to of a hilt…the grooves, the slight contour line that divides the top from the rest of its body…
You wildly point at the foreign object, the words not able to come out of your mouth.
Everyone looks down and gapes at what you’re gesturing at.
They gape up at you in bewilderment.
“What is that?” You finally demand, completely taken by this cane.
“Ah, this?” Brook points at his purple cane.
With a quick swish and twang, his bony fingers curl over the hilt and he unsheathes…. frankly, a masterpiece.
His glinting sword hums in the most harmonious, bone-chilling tone you’ve ever heard from a blade before as he proudly presents the sword to you.
“I call her the Soul Solid – my grooviest instrument yet.” Brook dramatically poses and flashes his cane-sword hybrid in the air.
“It’s…It’s…” You stutter, your eyes shining in admiration. “It’s a work of art.”
It’s so wacky and so groovy, and it harmonises with the wielder so perfectly, and you just love it.
“Hold on, you like that skeleton’s walking stick more than my blades?” The green-head marimo stomps over while growling, looking completely pissed off. “Just what type of swordsmith are you?”
You ignore him, bashfully moving closer to Brook with your palms stretched open.
“May I hold her?”
“Hey, don’t ignore me!” Marimo yells, flaring his nostrils furiously.
“Of course…but…if only I could see your panties first, Miss?” Brook replies sweetly, fluttering his empty eye-sockets at you.
Crack! Rattle!
“Didn’t I make things clear enough before?!” Nami yells, karate-chopping Brook on his vulnerable skull.
“I-I’m sorry…” Brook whispers and hands you his sword, fading into the background of his crewmates. Chopper anxiously follows him with a carton of milk clutched in his hoof.
“Amazing craftsmanship! I wonder who made this, this handiwork doesn’t ring any bells…” You say more to yourself than to anyone in particular, observing the make of the metal and the customised grooves on the hilt. “She’s in perfect shape.”
“Cool. Whatever. Who cares. When are you going to remake mine?” The marimo hisses, making Nami hiss back at him like a cat.
Suddenly, you hear Robin gasp like she’s being choked. All of her helpful hands wilt and merge into the floor, smashing all of the items that were safely in their grasps.
“Robin! What are you doing?” Franky shouts, lunging forwards to catch a glass orb before it shatters from impact.
You swivel your head around to look at Robin, and almost immediately, anxiety consumes your chest like wildfire.
“Robin, are you okay?” Chopper exclaims, running towards her.
Robin’s eyes are consumed with shock, her mouth slightly open. She turns to you, a new hand blossoming in between where you two are standing.
The hand morphs and flutters out like branches on a tree, but instead of holding leaves, it's holding--
“How…do you have this?”
The glossy cube glints in her graceful grasp. Obsidian and violet in shade, the text is only half-way crafted across its surface.
It's your poneglyph.
Immediately, Gramps Suki draws out his blade.
#one piece#one piece zoro#roronoa zoro#roronoa zoro x reader#zoro#one piece luffy#luffy#monkey d luffy#one piece ace#straw hat pirates#usopp#sanji#tony tony chopper#nico robin#straw hat luffy#one piece fanfiction#one piece fic#one piece fanfic#op fanfic#op fandom#female reader x zoro#zoro x female reader#zoro x fem reader#three sword style#zoro roronoa#zoro rorono x you#zoro roronoa x y/n#straw hats
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Thank you to the lovely @rosesnink for this ask from this list. She asked me to write a fic for both of our OH MC's, Jordyn & Casey. I hope you like what I came up with!
Book: Open Heart Pairing: Casey x Jordyn (F!MC x F!MC) Rating: Teen Category: One-off/One-shot/"There's only one bed" Words: 1,100 Summary: Jordyn & Casey arrive in Cleveland for a one-week symposium at the Cleveland Clinic. The women are upset that they're staying at a distant Air B&B, while attendings were put up in a posh hotel by the hospital. But Casey's determined to make the best of it, and when they woke the next morning, they realized it might not be such a bad thing.
A/N: I hope you enjoy this @rosesnink - everyone be kind - I only get to do a quick edit - I hope it's good. :)
“This is ridiculous!” Jordyn complained as they arrived at a nondescript apartment building in a Cleveland suburb. “Why are the attendings set up at the Hotel Intercontinental, right down the block from the Cleveland Clinic, while we’re stuck at an Airbnb in Beachwood?”
Casey was just as frustrated as Jordyn, but after watching her friend seethe for the entire 20-minute drive, she knew she had to help calm her down.
“I get it,” she said soothingly. “But on the bright side, this place does have a pool in the complex.”
Jordyn turned to Casey with pursed lips. “Do you seriously think the Intercontinental doesn’t have a pool?”
“I’m trying here,” Casey sighed. “At least as the only interns here since we’re the only interns here, we can avoid those creepy doctors from Kenmore that were leering at us!”
Jordyn tried to appear unmoved, but a smirk slipped through. “You make a good point.”
“I know,” Casey teased. “I usually do! So, let’s focus on the positives and check this place out!”
Jordyn slipped the key into the door, and they entered the studio apartment that would be home for the next week. It didn’t take long to see it all.
“Uhm, I believe realtors would call this place ‘cozy,’” Casey noted.
“‘Cozy’ is how they described that closet they tried to rent to me in Boston,” Jordyn countered.
“Exactly! But at least this place is clean and even cute; look at the little sunflowers embroidered on the curtains!”
“Yeah,” Jordyn smirked. “They match the bedspread... on the one bed in this room.”
Casey’s eyes widened as she bit her bottom lip. “Well, would you look at that?”
Now, Jordyn was the one smiling as she nudged Casey’s shoulder. “Lucky for you, I don’t snore!”
~~~~~
About forty minutes later, Jordyn emerged from the shower, towel-drying her long, blonde hair. Casey, who had showered first, was sitting cross-legged on the bed—the only place they had to sit — her hair pulled into a messy bun and a slice of pizza in her hand.
“You’re eating in bed?” Jordyn teased. “Great, you, me, and pizza crust crumbs sharing a bed tonight.”
Casey rolled her eyes. “Sorry, Jor. I considered eating in the west wing, but the servants hadn’t had a chance to clean it yet.”
Jordyn belly-flopped onto the mattress and grabbed a slice of pizza from the box. When she bit in, the look on her face indicated approval. “It’s not Boston pizza, but it’s not bad.”
“I did check reviews before ordering,” Casey smiled.
“I knew you would!” she smiled. “I have to admit, there are worse things I could be stuck in bed with than you and pizza crumbs.”
“Agreed,” Casey giggled, “but I still say we get rid of the crumbs before going to sleep.”
After the lights were turned off, the two friends slipped under the covers, trading jokes the entire time.
“Try not to grab my butt during the night,” Jordyn instructed.
“As long as you don’t end up spooning me,” Casey replied. “If you spoon me, I call full butt-grabbing privileges.”
After a few more barbs and a lot more giggles, the exhausted doctors fell asleep.
In the morning, Casey was the first to wake. Opening her eyes, she found Jordyn’s hand lying delicately on her hip. She didn’t make anything of it; the bed was awfully small, and she was confident she probably did something similar during the night... or was that just a dream? Regardless, she had to admit, it felt nice, so she made no effort to move it.
When Jordyn began stirring, Casey shut her eyes and pretended to be asleep. After blinking to adjust her eyes to the morning light, Casey’s “sleeping” face was the first thing she saw, and she smiled. She looked almost angelic, and Jordyn was so enthralled that she didn’t notice the location of her hand. Startled when the realization hit her, she quickly pulled it back but returned it less than a second later.
Afraid her blushing cheeks would give her away, Casey quickly “awoke” with a smile. Her voice was still groggy; but she couldn’t wait to bust her friend’s chops... or was it flirting?
“Sure,” she smirked. “Tell me not to grab your butt, and look what I wake up to.”
Jordyn did not back down. “So, should I love it?”
Casey’s eyes shot open, and their blue eyes met.
“It’s fine,” she demurred, brushing loose strands of hair away from Jordyn’s face. “You know, you are really pretty.”
“You only say that because we look so much alike,” Jordyn laughed.
“Nah,” Casey insisted. “You’re much prettier than me.”
Jordyn played with the fabric of Casey’s nightshirt, feeling the warmth of her skin through the thin, soft cotton.
“Did you sleep well?” Casey continued.
“More or less, except you are like a furnace! I felt like I needed to take my clothes off.”
“Well,” Casey said with a big stretch. “I wouldn’t have stopped you.”
Her legs flipped over the side of the bed, and she slipped into her slippers. Jordyn watched her as she shuffled the short distance to the bathroom.
“Are you flirting with me, Dr. MacTavish?”
Casey turned with a wink. “I don’t know, but we have to share that bed for a whole week... I suppose we’ll soon find out.”
Shocked by her own words, Casey rushed into the bathroom and shut the door. Where did this newfound bravado come from? She had tried to tell Jordyn how she felt dozens of times before but couldn’t garner the nerve to make the slightest move. Now, she just hoped it wasn’t a mistake. But it was all right; she could have played it off as a joke if she had.
But as Jordyn fell back against her pillows, she wasn’t laughing. She hadn’t admitted her crush on Casey to anyone, barely even herself, but if there was a chance she felt the same way... Suddenly, she was happy that they weren’t at the Intercontinental with everyone else. Breakfast alone sounded like the perfect way to get to the bottom of this.
When Casey emerged from the bathroom, Jordyn grabbed her hand. “Hey, can I treat you to breakfast?”
“I don’t know,” Casey said, her heart racing. “If you do, would you consider it our first date?”
The smiles on each other’s faces quickly put the two women at ease.
“Hmmm,” Jordyn hummed. “I suppose it could be... if they have freshly squeezed orange juice. Because I’d only take you to a classy establishment for our first date.”
“All right,” Casey winked, shocking Jordyn when she reached over and placed a kiss on her cheek. “Then let’s hope it does.”
Now it was Jordyn’s turn to rush into the bathroom and close the door behind her as her breath quickened. This was really happening! She took out her phone and began a search... there was no way she was taking any chances...
@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics
Tagging others separately
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STRAY KIDS REACTION — YOUR FIRST KISS
Summary: Stray Kids (unexpectedly) share their first kiss with reader
Warnings: Mentions of food, unhealthy habits, insecurities, sadness, fighting and minor surgical procedure
Genre(s): Mostly fluff, slight angst
Note: I have finally returned with some more writing content and hope to be able to write more soon. I apologize for the uneven length of each scenario, I tried to write equally for each member, but some scenarios were a bit longer than expected. I tried to keep the scenarios gender neutral but in some of them I did use the pronouns she/her. I hope you all enjoy reading this and I just want to remind you that requests are open. Don’t forget to read the rules before requesting!
BANG CHAN
It was getting late at night, and your boyfriend was nowhere to be found. You wanted to believe he was on his way home, but deep down you knew he was most likely still at the studio, overworking himself until he couldn’t stay awake anymore and inevitably fell asleep, having finally won his daily battle against insomnia.
You looked at your phone, which clearly displayed the current time: 2:04. With a sigh, you got out of bed, put on one of your boyfriend’s warm hoodies, grabbed your keys and headed towards his workplace. The drive was lonely and quiet, but you soon enough reached the familiar building, already knowing the way to his studio by heart.
You reached your destination and quietly opened the door, as to not startle him or wake him up. Your heart sank at the view in front of you. There were sheets of paper scattered everywhere across his desk and on the floor, empty cups of coffee a bit all over the place, and some half eaten takeout that was most likely cold by now, which hinted at your boyfriend’s unhealthy habits.
Amidst the messy studio was the desk where he placed his computer and the chair in which he sat to work, which was visibly still occupied. You briefly smiled as you heard soft snores coming from your boyfriend, his head resting against the headrest of the chair.
You walked the few final steps that led you to Chan, still careful not to wake him up just yet. You wanted to wake him up softly, since he probably thought he was alone in the room, and would most likely be scared if you woke him up abruptly. You leaned in, planning on kissing his cheek, but as you got closer, your hair tickled his cheek. Chan was definitely a light sleeper, and immediately woke up at the feeling of your hair and warm breath on his skin, turning around to figure out who could possibly be in the studio in the middle of the night. His head turning caused your lips to land right on his.
You pulled away in a panic, blurting out a bunch of inaudible excuses to your boyfriend, who broke out into a loving smile, chuckling and assuring you he was fine. Your heart was speeding up and your mind was racing despite Chan’s reassurance. He knew what you were thinking without you having to say anything, and before you could beat yourself up any further, he placed his hand behind your head and pulled you towards him, pressing a tender kiss to your lips.
“This is the best way of waking up!”
LEE MINHO (LEE KNOW)
You had undergone an outpatient dental surgery and your boyfriend, Minho, was the one who brought you in and the one who would bring you back home and take care of you after the procedure.
After having been left on his own for around ninety minutes in the dental clinic’s waiting room, a dental hygienist finally came to get him. Before opening the door to the room you were in, she warned him, “(Y/N) has been injected with midazolam, a powerful benzodiazepine that prevents anxiety and pain during surgery. A common side effect of the medication is losing touch with reality, as well as confusion. Don’t worry though, the effects will only last for a maximum of two hours, and (Y/N) should be back to normal in no time.” She also handed him several sheets of paper containing the strict protocol you had to follow for the next few days, as well as a prescription for pain relief and a mouthwash, before guiding him into the room.
As soon as you saw your boyfriend, your eyes lit up and you loudly said, “Minhooooo! I’ve missed youuuu! Look what they did to my mouth!” You opened your mouth, but the dental hygienist urged you to close it, much to Minho’s relief. Gently greeting you, he took ahold of your hand and slowly guided you to the car so you could head back home to rest.
Although the clinic was only fifteen minutes from your shared apartment, the ride had left Minho completely exhausted. You kept moving, yelling and had tried to take out the gauzes in your mouth about five times. He had to constantly keep a strong grip on your wrist, scared that if he were to let you go, you would run off god knows where to pull god knows what kind of dumb stunt.
Once he had gotten you safely inside the apartment, Minho had the difficult task of getting you to lay down on the couch so he could go and get you an ice pack to help reduce the swelling in your face. When he came back in the living area, he was relieved to see you still sitting on the couch. However, his relief was soon replaced with panic as he saw you yet again pulling at the gauzes inside your mouth in an attempt to remove them.
“(Y/N)! No! Stop touching that!” he ordered, nearly running towards you. You froze in the position you were in, your mouth wide open and the gauzes hanging halfway out of your mouth. If he hadn’t been so worried, Minho would have definitely laughed at the sight. He gestured for you to push the gauzes back into your mouth, which you did.
As he was grabbing a cozy blanket to wrap you in, you called Minho and spoke, “It hurts.” Minho cooed as you whined about your teeth, “It’s okay baby, just put the ice pack on your cheek like I showed you.” Shaking your head, you replied, “No! It’s cold. Can you kiss it better instead?”
So that’s what you wanted all along: a kiss. Minho rolled his eyes in fake annoyance, joining you on the couch. Tightly wrapping you in the blanket to keep you warm and prevent you from escaping from his hold, he then leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to your lips, careful not to cause any harm to your sensitive mouth. You immediately surrendered to his attempts at getting you to rest and snuggled into his side, content with having finally gotten what you wanted.
It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep as a result of the strain the surgery and the medication had put on your body. You probably wouldn’t remember the kiss when you’d wake up, but Minho definitely would, and he’d remind you about it anytime he could.
SEO CHANGBIN
It had all started with your first fight. You had both said hurtful things that you didn’t mean, which had resulted in you walking out to clear your head and get away from your boyfriend.
You were holding back tears as you walked across couples sharing umbrellas and casually holding hands along the sidewalk, wondering if you were ever going to experience it again with your boyfriend after what had been said. Deep down, you knew you were overthinking, and that you were most likely to apologize and move on soon enough, but as of now, your judgement was clouded with sadness and doubt.
Did he really mean the things he said about you?
Did he believe the things you said out of spite?
Would you ever forgive each other for going too far?
In the meantime, Changbin was left alone at your shared apartment, having plenty of time to reflect on the conflict. He felt the guilt eating away at his insides for the words that left his mouth only minutes ago. He knew you’d likely remember all of them for years to come, even if you told him you didn’t. He wanted to take it all back, but knew life didn’t work that way, and so he’d have to make it up to you somehow if he didn’t want to lose you. He had to make it clear to you that he didn’t mean anything he had said when angry. Most of the things he said were a reflection of his own insecurities in your relationship.
Having had more than enough time to go through the previous events multiple times, Changbin finally noticed how much time had gone by since you’d last been in the apartment. He couldn’t help feeling worried that you’d decided to leave him for good, or worse, that something bad had happened to you before he even got to say how sorry he was, while he wasn’t there to protect you from all the evil the world has to offer.
As you finally walked back into your apartment with clearer thoughts, you were greeted with a concerned Changbin walking in circles. As soon as he noticed you, he ran up to you without hesitation. There was so much he wanted to say to you at once, yet the only thing he managed to do was to grab your face with both hands and smash his lips against yours in an emotional kiss.
Pulling away, he let go of your face, taking ahold of your hands instead, before speaking, “I’m so sorry. For everything.”
HWANG HYUNJIN
To say you were nervous was an understatement. It wasn’t your first date, but you had yet to have your first kiss, saving it for someone special, whom you trusted. So far, you had managed to avoid any situation that could’ve led to a kiss, but it always made going on a date much more stressful.
You had asked your best friend, Hyunjin, to come over to help you get ready for your date. This time, you truly felt you had found the right guy. You had already been on a few dates with him. It had clicked from the very beginning, and only progressed in a positive way with each successive date. Yet, you couldn’t help the nervous feeling that followed you around throughout the day at the thought of having your first kiss.
Seeing as you were once again staring into space, lost in your thoughts, Hyunjin sighed, calling your name: “(Y/N)? Are you alright?” A bit startled by his sudden intervention, you nodded, shooting him a quick smile before turning back towards the mirror to continue inspecting the outfit Hyunjin had carefully helped you choose.
“You’re a terrible liar, you know…” Hyunjin stated. Slightly offended, you retorted, “I’m not. I promise I’m fine.” “Then why are you constantly biting the inside of your cheek and staring off in the distance?” he inquired, a skeptical look etched on his handsome face. “It’s nothing. Anyways, you’re gonna laugh if I tell you,” you commented, slightly annoyed by your best friend’s nagging. “Who said I was going to laugh? If it’s bothering you, it isn’t anything worth laughing about,” Hyunjin argued.
“Fine. I’ve never kissed anyone and tonight might be the night where it happens and I’m completely unprepared. I don’t want him to think I’m a bad kisser,” you confessed, looking down to avoid your friend’s gaze. “I could teach you,” Hyunjin suggested, more as a joke to lighten your mood. The last thing he expected was for you to nod your head, saying, “Y—You would?” You had caught him off guard, but he soon regained some composure and replied, “Sure. I mean… Yeah?”
“You don’t have to do this, Jinnie,” you pointed out. Hyunjin smiled at the sound of the nickname you had given him and answered, “Don’t worry, I don’t mind.” He quickly added, “Anything to get my best friend out of trouble,” which made you smile in return.
He carefully approached you, which unconsciously made your heart race. Standing right in front of you and blocking off your view of the mirror, he said, “I’m gonna pretend to be him. Just let me initiate the whole thing, okay?” You quietly nodded, staring at his lips as he spoke. While he seemed completely confident, Hyunjin was actually terrified. He had been wanting to do that for so long, yet it felt entirely wrong.
He hesitantly cupped your cheek with one of his hands, delicately placing the other on your waist, and slowly leaned in. You instinctively closed your eyes, anticipating the feeling of his lips on yours. Once you felt it, you completely froze, unable to move a single muscle. Pulling away, Hyunjin sighed yet again, claiming, “I can’t do ALL the job. You shouldn’t stay still the whole time. You need to move your lips, you know?”
You felt your cheeks heat up, ashamed of your reaction. “Sorry,” you muttered, almost inaudibly. “Don’t be. It’s okay, we can try again,” Hyunjin reassured you. Before doing anything else, he advised, “Just follow my lips’ movements. You’ll be alright.”
With that, he once again leaned in and placed his lips on yours. This time, however, you reacted and followed his lead. His lips were soft and warm, and he had a nice floral smell that made you forget how nervous you were. Although the kiss seemed to drag on for minutes, it only lasted a few seconds, and you were surprised when Hyunjin pulled away, almost disappointed that it was already over.
Suddenly, you were hit with the realization that you had just had your first kiss. All this time you had been stressing about having the perfect first kiss with your date, just to end up sharing it with your best friend. You weren’t disappointed, though. In fact, it felt incredibly right.
Your thoughts were interrupted by Hyunjin speaking, “Not bad for someone who’s never kissed anyone before.” Chuckling, you thanked your friend for his help, before claiming you had to go back to getting ready or you’d be late to your date.
Although that date went perfectly well and you did kiss the boy at the end of the night, you ended things with him a few weeks later. You knew he wasn’t the one for you. And although it took a while for you to admit it to yourself, the one boy you actually wanted was the one you shared your first kiss with.
HAN JISUNG
You usually weren’t a crier. Especially not in front of other people. Yet, here you were, standing in the middle of your living room, with tears streaming down your face.
It had been an awful day from the very beginning, and you had managed to keep your composure throughout everything, fighting the urge to curl into a ball under a blanket and cry. That was until you accidentally knocked over a glass filled with water on the floor, watching all of its content spill around. The incident seemed to flick a switch in your mind, causing you to burst into tears while staring at the empty glass on the floor.
Unsuspecting, your boyfriend, Jisung, had decided to come to your apartment uninvited, knowing your schedule by heart. The last thing he expected when he opened the door with the keys you had provided him with was to see you all red faced, your skin glistening with the tears that continuously glided down your cheeks.
Immediately dropping the multiple bags he had brought along with him, Jisung ran to your side, asking you what was wrong. You were overwhelmed by everything going on and couldn’t get a word out of your mouth. You felt ridiculous thinking about having to explain to your boyfriend how a simple water spill caused such a crisis, so you kept quiet.
Jisung quickly understood that you weren’t quite ready to speak just yet and simply guided you towards the nearest couch, helping you sit down. His eyes scanned his surroundings looking for a box of tissues, which he offered to you as soon as he got a hold of it. While you dried your eyes, your boyfriend looked for something to keep the both of you warm as you sat together on the couch, settling on a cozy blanket that was lying at the bottom of another couch.
He sat back down next to you, securely draping the blanket over your shoulders and his, as to enhance his warm embrace. “Take all the time you need, baby. I’m right here,” he uttered, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You were moved by his tenderness, which brought a fresh wave of tears dripping down your cheeks.
It had been nearly ten minutes and your cries didn’t seem to be dying down anytime soon. Jisung, although patient, was growing worried that you wouldn’t ever stop crying. He had to think of a way to stop your cries. It had to be something that would shock you enough to make you forget about whatever made you sad in the first place. Then it hit him.
He gently lifted your chin up with his finger to get you to look at him, and before you had the chance to react or question him, he firmly pressed his lips against yours for a few seconds. Soon enough, your breathing evened and your cries quieted down. You were left dumbfounded, staring with wide eyes at your boyfriend, who couldn’t help giggling as he recalled what had just happened. “I’m sorry, I just panicked. You wouldn’t stop crying and I didn’t know what else to do to get you to stop and calm down,” he claimed.
You faintly smiled at him, before asking, “Can you do it again? It does work to calm me down.” Mirroring your smile, he enthusiastically nodded, eagerly leaning down to close the distance between your lips, this time savouring the intimacy of the act.
Pulling away, he spoke, “Now, will you tell me what made you break down like that?”
“Before I do, I need you to know that it was not ONLY caused by a spilled glass of water, I swear!”
FELIX LEE
You and your boyfriend were both enjoying one of his rare days off by trying out some baking recipes Felix had recently come across while scrolling through social medias. It was one of your go-to couple activities, as it allowed you to spend some alone time together, have some great conversations and end up with (mostly) delicious food as a result.
It was the end of the summer, when the sweetest berries would grow in the fields, so you opted for a raspberry flavoured cake. Needless to say, the cake was an absolute success, which you ended up sharing with your boyfriend’s group mates.
You were left with an excess amount of raspberries and couldn’t let them go to waste. You came up with the idea of using the leftover berries to make a sweet coulis you could pour on some refreshing ice cream, to which Felix immediately agreed.
You had poured the necessary ingredients into the blender and were ready to begin mixing. You pressed on the start button and gasped as the lid, which seemingly wasn’t properly secured, jumped up, and the half blended raspberries began flying out of the machine, landing everywhere in the kitchen, including on both your faces. You scrambled with your eyes closed to find the stop button and finally managed to turn the blender off after a few seconds.
As you wiped your eyes as best as you could, you took in the mess that stood in front of you. You were soon cut off with your boyfriend’s hysterical laughter that had him bending on himself and trying to catch his breath. “You should’ve seen the face you made when the mix flew out of the blender!” he exclaimed in between fits of giggles. You couldn’t help the laughter that escaped your lips as you noticed his own messy face.
Felix stepped closer towards you, using his hand to delicately wipe some of the fruit off your face. He suddenly noticed the redness on your lips and shyly spoke, “You have some on your lips.” Before you could answer anything, he closed the gap between both of your faces and gently pressed his lips against yours, taking in the taste of the sugary berries that covered your skin.
He pulled away after a few seconds, feeling his cheeks burning up. He couldn’t look you in the eyes, afraid that he messed up, or that you didn’t enjoy the kiss as much as he did. “You look like a raspberry now,” was the only thing you could think of saying as you looked at his reddened skin, resulting in the both of you breaking down into yet another fit of laughter.
“You still look good, even as a raspberry,” you quickly added, causing your boyfriend’s blush to deepen. “You look adorable too, even covered in sticky fruit sauce,” he replied, still euphoric from the kiss you just shared. He couldn’t help admiring you: the glow on your face from the raspberries, the innocent smile on your lips, and the stars in your eyes added up to everything he already loved about you.
Felix then turned around to grab a wet rag, throwing it your way as he claimed, “Come on, now we need to clean the whole kitchen up before anyone comes back, or else they’re gonna kill us!” You nodded and began wiping the walls, before he added, “Although I’d definitely prefer continuing to kiss you instead.” And it was now your turn to blush.
As you turned back towards the wall, Felix rapidly took out his phone, snapping a picture of you amongst the messy kitchen, not only to show his friends and to laugh about it later, but also to remind him of the precious memory of the first kiss you two shared.
KIM SEUNGMIN
You had been helping the boys set up their dorms for Christmas for a few hours. You were currently working on the tree, hanging up countless mismatched decorations that the boys insisted you used for their sentimental value. You had also planned to bake gingerbread cookies with Felix that everyone could decorate later, when putting up decorations would be too much of a physical effort.
You were attempting to have a conversation with Seungmin and Felix while music loudly played throughout the room. As Felix was excitedly reminiscing about something that happened on Christmas Day back in Australia, you realized you had lost sight of the tree topper.
As you voiced your concern, Seungmin replied that he had left it in the storage room, in an attempt to avoid his clumsy friends from dropping and breaking it. He suggested you followed him there, as he had to go and grab an extra box of ribbons in that same room. You nodded and followed his lead, quickly finding what you were looking for and heading back towards the living area, where the tree stood.
You had barely taken a few steps out of the storage room when you heard muffled snorts and giggles. Narrowing your eyes and turning around, you noticed Minho, Felix and Jeongin’s eyes on both you and Seungmin. Rolling his eyes, Seungmin spoke, “What’s going on with you weirdos? Don’t you have anything better to do then to follow us around the dorm?”
Wordlessly, Jeongin pointed over your heads before he burst into yet another fit of laughter. You both looked up, and let out a groan as you spotted the mistletoe hanging above your heads. “Come on you guys, it’s the rule!” Minho claimed.
You suddenly felt a lump in your throat at the thought of kissing Seungmin. It wasn’t that you didn’t want it. In fact, you had been looking forward to this moment for so long. The thing was that you envisioned this special moment going much differently. You had never kissed anyone before, and definitely did not plan on first doing it in front of your boyfriend’s best friends.
Sensing your uneasiness, Seungmin delicately held your hand before giving you a quick kiss on the cheek. Shaking his head in dissatisfaction, Minho complained, “Aw, come on! You can do better than that, Seungmin!”
“It’s not as though we’re asking you to do something you’ve never done before,” Felix teasingly added.
“It is, though,” Seungmin answered honestly, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. The boys were left speechless, but Minho was quick to cheer, “That’s even better! We get to see your first kiss!” The other boys joined in on his excitement and insisted that you followed through with the tradition.
Sighing as he knew they wouldn’t let it go until they got what they wanted, Seungmin turned to look at you, as though he was silently asking for your consent. You eventually shrugged, allowing Seungmin to lean closer until your lips met. You were first frozen in place, but slowly relaxed into the kiss, focusing on Seungmin’s reassuring presence.
You were brought back to reality by your spectators clapping and cheering, as you looked down, feeling your cheeks heat up. You stared at Seungmin’s hand, that was still holding yours, smiling to yourself, while your boyfriend was trying to calm his friends down and get them to leave you alone.
YANG JEONGIN (I.N)
You had started dating Jeongin a few months back and you had yet to share your first kiss, the two of you not being too strong on physical displays of affection. Sure, you did enjoy the occasional snuggles before going to sleep and the subtle hand holding as you went about with your day, but kissing was a big step you weren’t ready for just yet. Until today.
The boys were nearing a comeback and they had all been practicing really hard in the past few days. Anyone could see it was starting to affect them both physically and emotionally. It wasn’t too uncommon to see the other members’ partners walking around the dorm, so no one seemed shocked as you knocked at their door that night.
Minho quickly let you in after greeting you with his heartwarming smile, letting you know that Jeongin was in his bedroom. You practically ran to join your boyfriend, excited to hear all about his latest comeback stories. His face immediately lit up as you opened the door to his bedroom. He was sat in his bed, dressed in flannel pyjama pants and a plain oversized tee-shirt, scrolling through his phone. His hair was still drying from the shower he had taken after coming back from practice and the whole room gave off the fresh smell of his shampoo.
You joined Jeongin on the bed, asking him about his day. With a sigh, he begins rambling about how hard they’d been working for the past week. Jeongin rarely complains about anything, always grateful for what he has and careful not to burden others with his problems. You could sense he had reached a tipping point that night, as he laid his head on your lap and let you gently thread your fingers through his soft hair, while he tells you about everything that’s been going on recently as and you simply listen and occasionally nod.
Later that night, you had decided to unwind by watching a comedy movie on his laptop, which he had positioned at the end of the bed. You were comfortably wrapped up in a fleecy blanket, your head resting on his shoulder. You began laughing when you felt his hair tickle your cheek, causing him to turn his head to face you, your lips suddenly being inches away.
He didn’t know what went through his mind, but Jeongin instantly leaned in and closed the distance between the both of you. Your heart started racing, but although you were incredibly nervous, the kiss felt wonderful. Until you heard a knock on the door and had to quickly pull away.
Seconds later, the door opened to reveal Jisung, who had stopped by his friends’ dorm after practice. He couldn’t help but notice the odd position the two of you were in, paired with Jeongin’s awfully red cheeks. Not to mention the ‘I-just-got-caught’ look on his face.
Smirking, Jisung spoke, “Hey guys! What are you up to?” “Nothing! J—just watching movies, that’s all,” Jeongin replied suspiciously quickly. “Oooh! What movie were you watching?” Jisung further asked.
“Spirited Away”
“Insidious”
You both answered at the same time, shooting each other a quick but noticeable look of horror.
“Sooo… Which one was it?” Jisung pressed. This time, the both of you remained quiet, mouth slightly agape. Chuckling, Jeongin’s friend continued, “I see… Must’ve been really interesting if you can’t even remember which movie it was. By the way, nice lip gloss (Y/N)! It really suits yours and Jeongin’s lips!”
Shocked at Jisung’s bold comment, Jeongin argued, “Stop getting ideas! It’s not what you think!” “Sure, I believe you,” Jisung retorted sarcastically.
“This is such quality blackmail content!” he exclaimed as he left the room, closing the door behind him before you or your boyfriend could add anything.
#stray kids#skz#stray kids reactions#skz reactions#stray kids imagines#skz imagines#stray kids writing#skz writing#stray kids drabbles#skz drabbles#stray kids scenarios#skz scenarios#stray kids x reader#skz x reader#bang chan#lee know#changbin#hyunjin#han jisung#felix lee#seungmin#jeongin#kpop writing#kpop imagines#kpop scenarios#stray kids fluff#skz fluff#kpop#kpop reactions#stay
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tell me about your elliott/harvey headcanons
hello, and thank you! i would love to share! here's a small list of them for you:
they are patient with each other. elliott usually is very direct with his feelings but knows that harvey is shy, so he is careful not to come on too strong at once. he allows the doctor to be nervous too when anxiety happens and never invalidates those thoughts. alternatively, harvey doesn't tell elliott to calm down when he gets worked up over something and lets the emotions happen, then talks it through with him after. elliott keeps harvey calm, and harvey keeps elliott grounded.
elliott inspires harvey to try new things that are out of his comfort zone, especially when it comes to socializing (like participating in the community festivals). he knows harvey is more reserved and doesn't make friends easily, and has no trouble leading conversation with others so the doctor can be included without feeling so awkward.
harvey is elliott's beta reader and the only one allowed to see more personal works.
elliott is the only one allowed to touch harvey's house plants and model planes.
harvey helps elliott be more organized and to tidy up his cabin.
elliott makes lunches for harvey to bring to work at the clinic, or personally delivers them there daily.
they have different taste in books, but always read each others recommendations. i see elliott liking authors such as alexander dumas while harvey enjoys louis l'amour . (i feel like harvey would be into old western movies too lmao)
they like to listen and read ghost stories together but are both cowards, so usually end up not able to sleep at night after.
they are content just to sit in each other's company. there doesn't have to be any talking at all and they can be doing different things-- like harvey building his planes while elliott writes-- and are very comfortable that way.
they love to travel together: like to the zuzu city for museums and plays, or out into nature for walks and picnics; they both enjoy simple things. sometimes they will take the train for no reason other than to go on a ride.
they go shopping together and help pick out each other's clothes.
elliott helps harvey grocery shop because the doctor doesn't like to do it, especially alone.
elliott cuts harvey's hair for him and harvey irons elliott's clothes.
they like to experiment with different methods of brewing coffee together, like pour overs or french press, and different types of beans.
sometimes they dress up just for the dinners they have together at home, either in harvey's studio or elliott's cabin. it usually involves candle light.
harvey keeps a spare blanket close by because elliott usually hogs the one on the bed when they sleep.
they love to go hunting for antiques.
harvey will gift elliott chocolate, though not so much that it's unhealthy.
they write and send letters by mail even though they see each other in person often.
elliott brings harvey flowers that are hand picked from his walks through the forest.
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Studio 2 It was all done very clinically, that's the joke. We were in this big white room that was very dirty and hadn't been painted for years, and it had all these old sound baffles hanging down that were all dirty and broken. There was this huge big hanging light, there was no window, no daylight. It was a very clinical, not very nice atmosphere. When you think of the songs that were made in that studio it's amazing, because there was no atmosphere in there, we had to make the atmosphere. After a number of years we asked them could we have some coloured lights or a dimmer or something like that; after asking them for about three years, they finally brought in this big steel stand with a couple of red and blue neon lamps on it. That was the magic lighting they gave us. The refrigerator had a padlock on it, so if we wanted a cup of tea we'd have to break open the padlock on the fridge to get the milk out. We had to do that every night for five years, it wasn't like they realized, Oh well, they drink tea after six o'clock, so we'll leave the fridge open, oh no, they padlocked it, all the time. It was weird.
George Harrison on The South Bank Show, in Summer of Love: The Making of Sgt. Pepper, George Martin with William Pearson (1994)
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WIP Whenever
I was tagged by @medtech-mara for the weekly WIP report. Here's the latest stories.
Cyberpunk RED: How to Save a Life
"My name's Avery, I'm a netrunner."
Cyberpunk RED-era Data Entry, using default Photo Mode frames and backgrounds.
Yesterday I revealed Avery Greer, an FIA netrunner. She's cynical, possibly clinically depressed (my notes say that she's pathologically unable to smile) and desires change in her life. She has already decided that her future does not involve the NUSA or the FIA. She may already have plans in motion to engineer her escape.
She works under a senior FIA agent named Hunter 'Bishop' Wilkes. Bishop is ride-or-die for the NUSA and has already been betrayed by a netrunner before (their AV was hacked by a netrunner who made a covert deal with an African militia to hand over FIA secrets in exchange for safe passage to Nairobi, and from Nairobi to Luna). He already suspects that her change in behaviour could be a prelude to betrayal, and already has her under close watch.
You're gonna see more of her.
Bakeneko: Select images from their latest show
A teaser for a photo story coming next week!
Vega Hawse sings Bakeneko's first original song Wolverines!, written by Dorian 'Durian' Bautista (image credit: NCT News)
Another day, another pic in the screamsheets of So Mi living her best life in NC with Vega (this displeases Myers).
In 2078, Dorian Bautista (y'know, Dorian, the former corpo, turned fixer, then rockerboy) founded a band named Bakeneko ("Changed Cat"). They originally were a Samurai cover band, but something was off about their sound.
Then V came back... well, kinda. Vega's technically genetically 33% Johnny Silverhand and is a hybrid consciousness, but one with all of Johnny's memories and skills, as well as perfect knowledge of every SAMURAI song. Dorian reached out, and after some slightly mocking encouragement from Johnny, Vega joined Bakeneko and became the band's frontwoman.
In mid-2079, Bakeneko signed on with Silverhand Studios. While they still do SAMURAI covers, Vega (and by proxy, Johnny) and Dorian are working on an original EP, due to come out in 2080. Rumours that Kerry Eurodyne will appear in one of the songs are currently unconfirmed by N54 News.
MR BLUE EYES INTERROGATES AN FIA ASSASSIN
Warning: the following story references torture
The agent sat in the darkened room, his face and chest bloody. Electrodes were still attached to the more sensitive parts of his chest and torso. A black-uniformed soldier with blue glowing techgogs threw a bucket of icy water over the agent. He yelped as the ice pelted his bruised and bloodied skin, "Wake the fuck up, fedscum!"
"What the fuck do you want!?" screamed the agent, "just tell me what you want! I'll tell you anything! Just make it stop!"
A man stepped into the room, temporarily blinding the agent as the light of the hallway blasted into the room. He turned to the soldier, his blue eyes glowing in the darkness, "That'll be all."
"Sir."
Mr Blue Eyes circled the FIA agent, "Who was your target?"
"It was a traitor."
Mr Blue Eyes produced a stun baton, and without a second thought, drove the baton into the man's ribs. He cried in pain as electricity coursed through his vulnerable flank, "Specifics, please, Mr Jordan."
"It... her name is Song So Mi. She attempted to kill President Myers. There's a one million eddie bounty on her head."
He nodded, putting the baton back on the tool bench, "See, you can be cooperative... I'm going to let you go, Mr Jordan. In a few hours, you'll be back in Langley, no doubt being treated by the FIA's best medtechs."
"W-what?"
"But not without conditions," Mr Blue Eyes told him, kneeling and grabbing the man by the jaw so his eyes met the agent's, "You'll be sending Ms. Myers a message. Night City is off limits to the NUSA, and by extension, so are Song So Mi and Vega Hawse. If me, or my associates, find your agency operating in our city again, and especially if we find you harassing them, there will be consequences."
"A-are you nuts? Myers will never listen to that!"
Mr B shrugged, "You can take a horse to water, but you can't make it drink, Mr Jordan. All you need to do is deliver the message to the FIA, and you'll be home free. Do we have an accord?"
Jordan bowed his head, "Fine."
Mr B turned to the soldier, "Find this man some clothes and bring him to NCX. He has a flight to catch back to Washington."
"Yes, sir."
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That's about it for this week. Normally these come around Wednesday, but today's the day I guess.
People have probably already been tagged for this, but I'm gonna tag: @genocidalfetus @byberbunk2069 @theviridianbunny. Absolutely no pressure involved, only if you want to :)
#wip#wip whenever#cyberpunk red#cyberpunk red campaign#cyberpunk red: how to save a life#oc: avery greer#cyberpunk 2077#cp2077 au: chorus#oc: vega 'v' hawse#oc: dorian bautista#songbird#mr blue eyes
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Attack Dog - Rendering Breakdown
OK here's an attempt at explaining how I go with illustrations. This isn't necessarily an 'effective' way to paint, but rather it's a process to maximize my personal enjoyment. I encourage you to do the same! Find those steps you have the most fun with, and exploit the hell out of them.
For this post, I'll be going step-by-step for this illustration
1- Sketching
A Mess. I don't like making lineart unless I'm super in the mood for it. In this case, I couldn't be bothered to spend a lot of time in the sketch. I often use 3D models as a base for paintings because, if I'm making a painting I only want to paint, not to stress out on anatomy.
2- Blocking values
I only start painting with colour if I'm certain about what I want to do. In this case, I wasn't. When it comes to visual information, values (light and shadow) are more important than colour, so it's easier to block those out first than trying to improve the values in an already coloured piece.
This is a very insightful video if you want to see if a greyscale-first process could be useful for you. Marco Bucci's content in general is a treasure.
Here's a link to the head model used for light reference
3- Paintinggg hell yeah babyyyyy
Not much to say here except, look at a lot of reference. I only limit my canvas to one or two reference pics to not get it super crowded, but I'll always have more pictures open on my browser, tablet, etc.
There's this little app you can use to compile reference pics. I don't use it because the act of opening it is too much work for me but, it's a neat tool.
The main brushes I use for rendering are the following:
Regular round brush with pen-pressure opacity.
Custom triangle brush. It's just a triangle with some texture layered on.
Clip Studio Paint's textured paint. Unmodified.
Custom square brush. Same as the triangle, but it's a square.
Clip Studio Paint's gouache brush. Unmodified. Good for blending.
"Fur block-in" from this pack. Excellent for blocking in feathers.
"triple line" from this pack. Very good for adding texture.
You don't need this many brushes, but I like the variety to keep things interesting. I'd say that only #1, #2 and #7 are essential to me.
A quick trick I used for the muzzle was to make the wires with a white brush, on a layer with border effect.
I considered explaining how to shade feathers here but, it was making this post a little too long. Even more than it already is. But, let me know if a guide on drawing feathers is something you'd be interested in seeing!
4- Colours
For this one I kept it simple. I liked the values and I wanted to have a very stark contrast with the red blood. I made some quick tests with gradient maps trying out different palettes, using gradient maps and overlay layers.
While I enjoyed #1, at the end I went with #5 as it worked better narratively. The clinical white and silvery shadows give a stoic indifference to the blood, which fits with Blackbird's character.
The muzzle and situation on itself aren't a canon event happening, so it also felt more fitting to keep a more stylized 'colouring' rather than actually putting in the character's colours and scene. For this colouring, I only used a single gradient map, but it's not rare if I end up using several, placing masks for areas of different colours.
When it comes to colouring greyscales in character colours I follow a different process, for which I'll use another illustration as an example.
(this is Loketh, he belongs to my partner)
So, for this drawing I also started with a grayscale, but started adding colour in much earlier.
1- Black and white base render
2- New layer with a flat colour, put it on overlay. This will serve as a base for colouring, kinda like glazing on a canvas for a traditional painting
3- Adding character colours, in a new layer on overlay mode. You can do this in a single layer, or make new layers for each new colour. Just keep it loose, no need to add all detail yet.
4- Colouring the shadows. I used a gradient map adjustement layer, set to overlay. Made the lights green, and the shadows purple.
5- Flatten and paint! Now this is the step to add all intricate colour details missing from step 3.
5- Post-Processing
This is a term more used in 3D renders, where it refers to colour corrections and final tweaks. Things like adding depth of field, motion blur, vignette, any final filter.
For almost all my art I'll add a grainy noise layer and chromatic aberration, I just think it looks neat. You can also add paper textures or flat colours on top of you image and set that layer to overlay, it helps to tie everything together.
AND THAT'S ITTT
I hope this was useful, and remember to just have fun with it :)
Further reading:
Marco Bucci's youtube account
Jason Rainville's blog with breakdowns of his illustrations
Sinix Design's video on colouring skin
Anatomy For Sculptor's 3D models for muscle reference (cw nudity)
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