#the amount of time i spent typing this in class

[satoruxx]

okay wolf!toji tomorrow :33

[carsickcrow]

i need to make more art (serious original kind) and also more fanart and also more oc art. and also keep knitting. and do everything when am i gonna find the time.

[paarksunghoon]

DEEP HONEY | SUNGHOON

SUMMARY: the last thing you want to do is interrupt sunghoon’s time with his friends, but your doting boyfriend has always said he’ll be there whenever you need him. when a shift at work leaves you hanging by a thread, he and his friends are there to patch your soul back up.

NOTES: felt some type of way and naturally i need a hug from sunghoon. best i can do is write about it.

PAIRING: sunghoon x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 2.6K

WARNINGS: angst, typical rough day stuff and typos, probably.

MASTERLIST

***

Your car comes to a complete halt when you situate yourself on the curb of Lee Heeseung’s apartment. The rumble of the pavement beneath your tires ceases to amplify the slight movement that naturally shakes your car seats and you sit in the driver’s side like you’re a zombie.

The muggy atmosphere from the heat attempting to displace the freezing air makes your skin feel sticky and gross as you turn your engine off. The overhead lights temporarily blind you as you stare ahead into the dark night and feel the tension building up in your body.

Your jaw clenches and your cheeks become warm with the sheer amount of frustration seeping into your bones. The cold sweat you harbor makes you feel hot and freezing at the same time. The coolness of your glass window does nothing to quell your body’s temperature.

The familiar two-story house beside you is where Heeseung lives. He rents the bottom property and has lived with Park Jongseong ever since you all collectively started the last year of university.

You don’t necessarily want to be here. Coming to Heeseung’s apartment because you feel like you might combust at any minute seems like an invasion of privacy. Your boyfriend Sunghoon had let you know that he was sleeping over at his friends’ apartment tonight and you had no qualms with the proposition. He deserved to have his time with his friends too. Although it seems that your mind has its own agenda and you find yourself in front of Heeseung’s place in no time.

You step out of the car and lock it. Your feet carry you around the hood and you step onto the hard sidewalk with a slight wobble. The air is chilling, throwing a stark shiver down your spine as you huddle in your arms for warmth. The jacket you have sprawled on the backseat looks at you with concern.

You’re a step away from ringing the doorbell but your finger hovers the white button as tears well up in your eyes. The feeling of desperation and burden weigh on your chest as you listen to the muffled laughter that comes from Heeseung’s living room. Sunghoon hadn’t seen his friends in a few weeks between classes, work, and you. The last thing you want to do is impede on his time with his friends when you’ve spent the better half of this month glued to his side.

But you can’t help it. Your nose feels like it could be burning from the cold and the weather forces you to ring Heeseung’s doorbell when it ripples through your shirt. You hear him padding to the front door and can make out his figure from the bottom, his shadow blocking the light from inside.

Heeseung opens it just slightly ajar to assess who’s standing outside his apartment at this late hour. When he opens it, seeing you standing in the cold with red eyes and no jacket makes him panic.

“Y/N?” he asks. “What are you doing here?”

You think he might close the door with the look of confusion on his face but he opens it wider to allow you into his apartment. He shuts it quickly behind him and notices your chattering teeth, eyes softening at the sound when you look up at him. Heeseung watches your eyes begin to water and puts a hand on your upper back to soothe your emotions, but it makes you spill a few tears.

“I-I’m sorry for coming here,” you hiccup. “I didn’t know where else to go.”

“It’s okay, Y/N. You can always come over if you need something.”

You speak faster than you can think. “Today was so awful.”

Heeseung purses his lips and tells you to stay put. You watch him retreat into the living room and stare at the wall clock in front of you until you hear Heeseung say, “Hoon, your girl’s here.”

Sunghoon hears the worry in his friend’s voice because he stands up from the couch like he’s on a mission. With his eyebrows furrowed and heart beating in his chest, Sunghoon follows Heeseung to the front door and is immediately presented with you.

You look nothing like the happy-go-lucky girlfriend he said goodbye to before heading over to Heeseung’s. This morning, you’d woken up next to Sunghoon and he’d given you a tender kiss before heading to spend the day with his friends. Now, your eyes are swollen and your cheeks are stained with salty tears.

His heart plummets when he sees you standing in Heeseung’s doorway with no jacket on. You look helpless in a way he doesn’t see very often. Your knees buckle in your pants and the goosebumps on your arms are prominent to his eye.

Sunghoon wastes no time and envelopes you in a hug, pulling you into his chest until your face is situated in his neck.

“Baby?” he asks, feeling your hot breaths against his skin. “Talk to me. What happened? You’re so cold. Where’s your jacket? Did you bring one?”

His deep, honey-like voice that utter sweet concern only makes you cry harder. You try to keep your chokes and sobs as quiet as possible but the hiccups emitting from your throat make it impossible. You try to ignore the fact that Sunghoon’s friends can likely hear you weeping, instead focusing on your boyfriend’s warmth.

His arms encircle your body, one hand protectively around your waist and the other secured behind you. Sunghoon’s hands cup the back of your head and he strokes his fingers through your head lovingly.

“I had a bad day.” Your broken whispers makes Sunghoon’s heart sink even further. He pushes your hair out of the way and kisses your temple with plump lips.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he says. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Rethinking the events that led to your arrival at Heeseung’s place only fuels your tears and you shut your eyes, burying yourself further into your boyfriend’s neck.

Heeseung, helplessly standing around the corner, walks closer to tell him the two of you could use his bedroom. Sunghoon rubs the small of your back and slowly walks towards the room, guiding you inside without so much as a word spoken. Heeseung closes the door behind you two and Sunghoon immediately perches the two of you on the edge of his bed.

“My baby.” Sunghoon lifts your head and pushes the tears underneath your eyes away with the pads of his thumbs. “What’s got you upset, hm? Are you hurt?”

“No,” you choke. “I’m not hurt.”

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

Sunghoon pulls you into his chest and further onto Heeseung’s bed when you give into him. He lets you cry against him, not caring that his shirt is becoming damp as the seconds pass by. His palm soothes the entirety of your back and he kisses the crown of your head, periodically squeezing you tighter when his heart breaks at the sound of your sobs.

“Life is so hard,” you say into his chest. “I feel overwhelmed and scared.”

“Scared of what, baby?”

“I don’t know. Everything? I had the worst shift at work today. A customer ordered a hot coffee but I made it iced by accident and instead of letting me remake it for her, she involved my manager and was making a scene in front of everybody there.”

“I’m sorry.” Sunghoon whispers against your temple and kisses it again. “That’s frustrating.”

“My manager tried to get her to leave but she was pushy. Usually I could handle that but I’m overwhelmed with school and my senior project that I just broke down when the manager sent me home.”

“Your manager doesn’t think you’re at fault, right?”

“No,” you shake your head. “Nothing like that. He said I looked like I needed some rest and told me to take the rest of the night off.”

“Thank God.” He squeezes you tighter. “I’m sorry you had such a bad day. You shouldn’t have to put up with mean people who get mad at you for making a small mistake.”

“Everybody is so fucking mean, Hoon.” You roughly push away the tears from your eyes with the heel of your palm. “I’m tired of everybody expecting so much from me. Between work, school, and my parents asking me what job I’ll have after graduating, it’s all too much.”

Sunghoon coos. “You’re so precious, you know that? You’re dealing with so much and you’re allowed to cry about it. I’m sorry everything is affecting you like this.”

“Sorry for ruining your boys night,” you sniffle. “I feel awful that I took you away from your friends.”

Your boyfriend shakes his head. “Don’t be sorry. I’d come to you in a heartbeat if you called.”

His words only make you cry harder. Sunghoon is the perfect boyfriend. He dotes on you like you’re the only woman he’s ever loved in his entire life and lets you know how beautiful you are any chance he gets. He gets along with your friends and family, welcomes you into his own life, and makes you feel like you can achieve anything whether he’s in the picture or not.

Being with him has made you feel safer than you have in a long time. His arms provide the kind of comfort you’ve always been seeking and despite the amount of frustration and sadness in your body, it seems to be melting away with every kiss Sunghoon puts on your forehead.

Heeseung knocks gently and opens the door just slightly. You feel silly being held like a baby in front of Sunghoon’s friends who you’ve met only once before. It was at Heeseung’s house that you first met the three guys Sunghoon is closest to after they made an effort to invite you over to a night at the local dive bar before coming back to watch a marathon of Marvel movies. Your love for Iron Man catapulted the start of your friendship with Heeseung in particular and Sunghoon was starting to love how well you fit into his life.

“It’s been a while and I wanted to check in. You doin’ okay?”

You sniffle and hold onto Sunghoon’s arm. “Bad day. Everybody sucks.”

Heeseung laughs. “Preaching to the choir.” You immediately realize you neglected to take your shoes off when entering the apartment and scold yourself for bringing dirt onto his hardwood floors.

“Shit,” you say, pulling your legs higher so they’re farther from the surface. “I’m so sorry Heeseung. I’m sorry for barging in.”

He shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it. Take them off, I’ll put them by the door.”

You oblige. Sunghoon holds you to balance your body as you hand each sneaker to Heeseung, who doesn’t look at you weirdly or scold you for interrupting his time with your boyfriend. Instead, he smiles at you and lets you know Jongseong and Sim Jaeyun, another one of Sunghoon’s friends that you met during the movie night, are outside and concerned for you.

“We don’t have to go out if you don’t want to,” Sunghoon tells you as Heeseung closes the door behind him for a second time. “But they really like you and I know they care about you.”

“I only met them once,” you hiccup, toying with the hem attached to the bottom of his shirt. “How could they possibly like me?”

Sunghoon laughs and kisses your cheek. “I talk about you all the time. I’m pretty sure they’re sick of hearing me talk about you and would rather hang out with you instead.”

“You do?”

He nods. “Mhm. I have the best girlfriend in the world, you know. They had a lot of fun getting to know you and were planning on inviting you to a barbecue Jongseong’s having next weekend.”

“Really?”

Your doe-like eyes makes Sunghoon’s heart melt. He nods and kisses your nose. “Yes, baby. They love you. Not as much as I do, but a close second.” Hearing you laugh makes him breathe easier.

“I still feel bad for ruining your guys’ night,” you say with a pout.

Sunghoon eases your mind and presses a tender kiss to your lips to displace said pout. “We’ve all been there. If you’re uncomfortable, we can go back to your place and sleep?”

You shake your head. “This is your night. I don’t want to interrupt and make things awkward.”

“Why don’t we at least get you some water. You don’t have to say anything but at least drink something so you’re not dehydrated.” You don’t want to get up and face the embarrassment of the other three boys seeing you cry, but you know Sunghoon is right. After all the crying you’ve done, you’re feeling parched.

You nod and stand from him, all while he still has one hand in yours. Moments like this make you appreciate Sunghoon even more than you already do. He’s willing to do anything for you at the drop of a hat and it gives you butterflies when you remember this handsome, generous man is your boyfriend.

Jongseong and Jaeyun look at you with concerned eyes when you meet them outside. You try to speak but your mouth keeps opening and closing as you find the words to say.

“I’m okay,” you tell them. “And I’m sorry for ruining your night.”

Jongseong hands you a glass of water. “Don’t sweat it, Y/N. Everyone has bad days.”

“Yeah, but you guys haven’t seen Hoon in forever and this was supposed to be your weekend.” Your sincere apology and the cracks in your voice make Jaeyun’s eyes water too.

“It’s alright,” he tells you sincerely. “We love hanging out with you. You should stay and we can watch movies. We were gonna do that anyway.”

“I don’t want to intrude.”

“Jongseong and I want you to stay,” Heeseung says. The two of them nod. “You shouldn’t be alone when you feel like this.”

“Fuck,” you say, voice cracking to the point where it makes you laugh. The four boys laugh as well and feel the relief in the air around them. “You guys are too nice.”

“We were gonna order takeout too,” Jongseong says, pulling his phone out. “We were thinking maybe fried chicken but Hoon says you love Thai food. Why don’t we order stuff from the place around the block and eat it family style?”

“Oh, you don’t have to change it for me.”

Jongseong waves you off. “Nah. We all love Thai. Any excuse to eat it.”

“And don’t think about paying us back,” Jaeyun says with a genuine smile. “I’ll pay for it.”

“We’ll split it by four,” Heeseung adds.

Jongseong lets you put in your order and everybody else follows suit. Sunghoon has you tucked underneath his chin as the whole ordeal happens and kisses the side of your face every so often.

“Feel better?” He asks, mouth against your ear. His warm breath is comforting, as to remind you that he’ll always be there for you.

“Much better.” Your voice is no longer brittle from your cries. Sunghoon smiles.

“My sweet baby,” he coos. “You’re so pretty when you cry.”

“What about when I’m not crying?”

“Still pretty.” He squishes your cheeks with his hands and pressed a kiss to your fattened lips. “Adorable, even.”

Jaeyun looks at the two of you and laughs. He can only hope that he’ll feel like that with someone someday. It compels him to say something.

“You guys are stupid cute.”

Sunghoon says nothing. He smiles at his friend and squeezes you tighter. Having him to lean back on makes you feel like you might be the luckiest girl in the world.

***

comments and reblogs would be appreciated! xx

[cheralith]

childhood bestfriend!kaiser who accidentally finds out who you gave your first kiss to after being under the impression you still had it.

sure, you both were reaching an age where most people had already kissed another, been bedded, under-age drank, but kaiser never took you as the type to be so… promiscuous (“your dad was okay with it?” he had asked. “why the hell would i tell my dad about that.” your eye roll had never been louder.)

it was apparently some classmate you had dated briefly back in early high school, a time where you had both were barely able to see each other since kaiser spent some time in jail after being framed and after being bailed out by his manager, spent the majority of his time in his team’s training clubhouse. it didn’t help that it was quite a few towns away from your own, so communication grew weary between you and him during that time.

so when you and him finally reconnected and began to settle down with each other once again at an older age, where you and him were blooming into college, he’s amazed to see how much you had grown during the past few years, how your featured had matured into themselves so elegantly that sometimes, when you weren’t looking, he’d examine each bit of your features to get a proper look.

it was a little difficult attempting to gain a proper stance from him, since all the training at bastard mündchen had clearly done a work on him both good and bad, but when kaiser felt himself relaxing more and more with each frequented interaction with you—he’s brought back to when you were both children and didn’t know any better of the world around you.

so imagine his shock when you accidentally let it slip out that your first kiss went rather wrong as you and him are watching some sort of foreign sports movie where the main character’s long-time love interest finally kisses him.

“god i remember my first kiss,” you say casually, making kaiser snap his neck towards you so fast.

first kiss? you had your first kiss already? before he did???

sure, kaiser had a good amount of fans that flocked to him every chance they got and perhaps he’s done a little bit of entertaining to them, but even so—he still hasn’t necessarily had such a moment shared with another. he never felt like he needed to focus on it… never felt like it was some deed worth prioritizing becoming the best striker… until now.

“huh?” kaiser shuffles in his place and furrows his brows tightly, a vein barely visible from his forehead. “whaddya mean first kiss? with who? when?”

the questions shoot out all at once, you can’t help but laugh at kaiser’s (supposed) curiosity. you suppose the suspense of knowing what happened to that runt he met at eight years old has experienced since his arrest.

“oh, it was just a classmate from one of my sophomore classes,” you wave a hand, as if it was completely nothing to hold much regard to.

kaiser twitched, his eyes flickering towards your ripened lips. “and you gave him your first kiss?”

“probably my last too,” you sigh out wearily, “haven’t really had much people interested in me since then.”

he fell silent, going to scan your face again once more as you fixated your gaze to the tv, circling in on your lips again that give a soft pout. he twitched.

“he got too excited and ended up moreso clashing his mouth on mine—we ended up clacking teeth pretty hard,” you snort out as you stare in quiet amazement at how tender and soft the tv’s couple’s kisses were. “it ended up hurting too much to try and continue.”

you bite your lip, concentrated. “i dunno, i just wish it was more slowly, more… in-the-moment.”

kaiser twitched once more. noticing your wistful gaze at the movie playing in front of you and him. he flickers his eyes toward the intimate scene that you seem so focused on. he pays attention to how the lips of the two characters flow in a certain rhythm and how they meld into each other. they seem loose, relaxed, and that lack of tension made the kiss seem much more romantic.

he thinks back to some of how his teammates greet their girlfriends with kisses, or how he’ll just see a random couple locking lips with each other in the bars his team and him tended to as a celebration of a victorious game. kaiser had never felt a compulsion to experience such a thing, but there’s a strange magnetic feeling he’s getting that tugs him closer to you that is very much not his own rationale’s doing.

he says it with too much confidence. he says it like he’s done it numerous times before, like he’s a master at it, despite never even paying such avid attention to another’s lips until now. so kaiser doesn’t know why, but he suddenly blurts out,

“then let me show you a proper kiss.”

[girlgenius1111]

no time

jenni hermoso x reader. jenni is feeling neglected by how much time r is spending away from her, focused on football and getting her degree. jenni decides r is avoiding her, and pulls away too. eventually, it all becomes too much for r, who is feeling the pressure from everyone and everything. i would say teeny amount of angst and majority amount of fluff. for all the underfed jenni girls 😌😌

-----

Jenni knew you were busy. She knew you had a million things going on, and that the lack of time you’d been spending her was probably completely unintentional. A more insecure part of her worried that it was intentional, but she tried to quiet that part down. The Spaniard came across as a very outgoing, confident individual, and for the most part, she was. In her relationships, though, she had an issue with asking for what she needed, just like you did. She craved your attention and your company, but something inside of her just… wouldn’t let her ask for it. 

And it wasn’t like Jenni wasn’t trying to spend time with you. She’d come into the office while you were studying, trying to convince you to take a break. In the past few weeks, the answer had been no. You were drowning in school work, with practices picking up in frequency and intensity for the team. When you did have time to focus on school, you were always rather exhausted. Adding another 2 classes to your course load this term had been a mistake if you’d ever made one. Instead of the two you normally took, sometimes three, you were taking four. Four more classes, and you’d be done with your degree, fulfilling your promise to your parents to have a backup plan in case football didn’t work out. Maybe you didn’t deserve a degree. It was pretty idiotic to come to the conclusion that four classes wasn’t that much more than two.

Jenni had never cared for school, getting it done as soon as she could. She loved you, a lot, but she couldn’t really comprehend the deeply ingrained need you had to get your degree, and get perfect marks. She was supportive nonetheless, but she didn’t really quite understand what another two classes would entail. For the first part of the term, it had been manageable. Now, things had piled up, and you were absolutely drowning. 

You were a perfectionist, and you’d do anything to make sure your university work was perfect, your football was perfect, at the expense of everything. Even your own wellbeing. And, apparently, Jenni’s wellbeing too, although you weren’t quite aware of the toll your lack of time spent with her was causing. 

It was really a lack of communication that caused things to bubble over. 

Jenni felt neglected. And you wanted nothing more than for her to pull you away from your late night study sessions and remind you to put yourself first, because you were sure you couldn’t do it yourself. If either of you had just spoken to the other, it would have been resolved so easily. Jenni would have realized that you needed her, but were too stressed to really know what you needed. And you would have realized that giving Jenni space wasn’t some kind of gift for her, and that she would be happy to sit next to you while you studied and just keep you company. Communication was an area that your relationship tended to struggle, though. It was a work in progress, and this situation clearly presented where there was still progress to be made. 

-----

As you typed away at your computer, you again wondered why on earth you had added classes. Another term would have been worth it, if only to avoid this hell. It was Tuesday, and you had 3 essays due on Sunday. The week was stuffed full of training and extra workouts, though, and then the team was traveling for an away game. Everything had to be done by Friday, or it wouldn’t get done, and that wasn’t an option. 

Not only did it have to be done, it had to be perfect. There was no possibility of halfassing any assignment. You’d tried before, but you always ended up redoing it until it was perfect, and it was just much easier to do it the first time around. 

You had just finished the first essay, which was at the very end of the page limit. It was up to your standards, you decided, reading over it once more before turning it in. You should have felt relieved, that one of the things hanging over your head was now completed. Instead, you could only look to the next essay, and the one after that. And the exam next week, the project the week after. It was so easy to get overwhelmed if you thought too hard about everything, so you did your best to focus on each task one at a time. 

Perhaps it was this very narrow view of your life that had you not really thinking about your girlfriend in the other room. She’d been waiting for you to emerge from the office all afternoon, only getting you to take a short break to eat. 

She just wanted to spend time with you. Catch up on a show, or hold you on the couch and talk. It didn’t make any sense to her, why couldn't you just put the schoolwork down for one night, and pay attention to her. Maybe you would have, if she’d just asked for it. Instead, she sat quietly in the living room, trying her best not to cry as her feelings began to overwhelm her. Was she really that horrible to spend time with? That her own girlfriend preferred mindless busy work to being with her?

Deciding to end her pity party, she wiped at her eyes, checking in the front hall mirror that there were no visible tear marks, before she made a very pathetic attempt to get your attention. It wasn’t very late, but training had been grueling today, and Jenni knew that if she was tired, you must be exhausted. 

“Mi amor?” Jenni called from the doorway of the office. “Are you coming to bed?” 

You didn’t even turn your head away from the screen in front of you for a full 20 seconds, and when you finally did, it was to stare almost blankly at your girlfriend. “Huh?” 

“I was just- I’m going to bed now. Goodnight.” Before you could reply, Jenni was turning around and heading down the hall towards the bedroom. No goodnight kiss, no request for you to join her.  You blinked after her, struck by how cold she’d just been with you. Now that you thought about it, she’d been like that for a few days, and you hadn’t noticed. 

You turned back to your outline, copying lines from your notes mindlessly as you tried to figure out the source of Jenni’s frustration. Of course, you settled on yourself. You were a disaster at the moment, and you knew that. The only logical thing you could come up with was that Jenni was just… annoyed with having to deal with you like this. There were only a few weeks left of term, and you decided to try to bother her as little as possible until then. Once school was over, for good, you could go back to being the smiley, relaxed girlfriend Jenni was used to. The one Jenni preferred. 

You had very little clarity of when you fell asleep. One second, you were typing away, eyes drooping. The next, you were facedown asleep, your face smushed into your keyboard. 

Jenni managed to fall asleep without you next to her, but did not remain that way for long. After only two hours she woke, frowning to herself when she realized the bed was still practically made on your side. With a sigh, she dragged herself from bed and walked down to the office, prepared to drag you to bed if she had to. Even if you were avoiding her, she had to put her foot down somewhere; this was bordering on unhealthy. 

She trudged into the office, lips curving into a small smile as she noticed you out cold on your laptop. It didn’t look very comfortable, and the quiet inhales and marks on your cheek told her you’d been asleep for a solid amount of time. 

“Amor,” Jenni sang, her voice soft and loving as she roused you from a deep sleep. 

“Jen?” You picked your head up, blinking groggily up at her, and winced at the knot that had appeared in your neck. You’d fallen asleep, you realized. It was dark in the room, and Jenni’s face was half hidden by shadows. It was unreadable, and you cursed yourself internally for immediately breaking the promise you’d made to yourself just a few hours prior. The promise to not make Jenni suffer through your stress along with you. She must be so upset with you, having to come check on you like you were a child. Still, Jenni was kind and you knew that the way she carefully picked you up and cradled you to her chest didn’t mean she still wasn’t annoyed. It didn’t mean you weren’t being too much for her, it just meant Jenni was a good person. 

“Let’s go to bed, sí?” She cooed, carrying you down the hall. 

You nodded into her chest, allowing yourself a moment of comfort. You fought against the tightness in your throat and the moisture in your eyes as you realized just how exhausted you were, not wanting to make the situation any worse. Warmth filled your girlfriend’s chest at the feeling of having you so close to her again, but that feeling faded quickly when she placed you down on the bed, and you immediately rolled to the edge of your side. As far from her as possible. 

This cemented it in her mind, honestly. That you were avoiding her on purpose, using your school work as an excuse. And you were only more sure that she was tired of how much stress you brought to her life when she didn’t curl her body around yours, as she normally did. Both of you were miserable as you drifted off, completely incorrectly convinced that the other person was angry.  

-----

You were not a morning person, but your girlfriend was. It was your daily routine at this point for her to wake you up in the morning, a mug of coffee in her hand and a soft smile on her face, dimples just barely peeking out. Or, you’d wake to her curled around you, her breaths steady puffs on your neck. Never, never, did you wake to nothing. No Jenni at all. Your alarm went off, and you groaned, feeling that the few hours of sleep were not enough. You were barely conscious, rolling onto the other side of the bed in search of your girlfriend’s warm body. Nothing. 

Waiting a beat, you listened for her footsteps coming up the stairs. Nothing. Minutes passed with no appearances from the striker, and you rolled over towards the bedside table, grabbing your phone. Her location showed her already at the training grounds, a full hour early. You pictured her taking free kicks from all over the pitch, the same scowl on her face she always got when she was worked up about something. You loved that scowl, despite the cause of it. You liked to make it turn into a huge grin, one that brought out the dimples on her cheeks. 

God you missed her. Suddenly, with full force, you missed her deeply. Though you’d seen her last night, it felt like you’d been gone for weeks. You supposed you had, too caught up in your school work to think of much else. You wondered if she missed you, too, or if she was glad for the break.

No way to know, you decided, even though there very clearly was. Deciding that you could get a bit of your next essay done before you had to get ready for training, you dragged yourself out of bed and down the hall to get some coffee. There was some left on the counter for you, in a mug that had Jenni’s face on it, a joke gift she’d given you last christmas. On the very rare occasions Jenni had to leave the house before you were up, she almost always left a little note. Sometimes it was something cheesy and adorable, and other times it was just a heart. Today, there was nothing but the mug, the coffee inside already cold. 

------

When Jenni entered the house after dinner, she was feeling kind of guilty for being so distant the past few days. Especially after seeing how exhausted you were the night before. With the whole day to think about things, she realized maybe she should be more worried than upset with you. 

She’d left before you were even awake. Obviously, you couldn’t discuss anything at training, and you’d gone straight to the library after to work on your essay. Jenni had made herself get out of the house, getting together with a few friends, texting you quickly that she wouldn’t be home for dinner.  

She knew she’d been a bit immature and that she should have just communicated her issue to you. Before you, she’d never felt needy. Now, though, it felt like any time away from you was difficult. And the distance she’d forced in the past few days hadn’t made her feel better like she thought; she hadn’t gotten used to not being around you. Instead, she just missed you even more. Maybe she would have talked to you, honestly, if she hadn’t been convinced that you were upset with her, tired of her. 

She couldn’t hear the clicking of the keyboard coming from the office, and that would have been her first guess as to your location. Moving further into the house, Jenni looked around, finally spotting you in the living room. You weren’t lounging in the armchair, watching a show, like she’d been expecting. Instead, you were curled up into a ball on the sofa, sobbing into your hands. It was loud and painful, and the brunette was sure that you hadn’t even heard her enter the house. There were papers scattered around you, your computer set aside, still open to the essay that just wouldn’t get done. 

The small sounds you were making in between each sob broke Jenni’s heart, and it only took her a minute to unfreeze, and cross the room. 

“Amor, hey,” she cooed, crouching down next to the sofa and trying to tug your hands away from your face. You jumped slightly, feeling your face burn with embarrassment. You thought you’d have more time to hide your breakdown before Jenni got home.

“Go away.” You murmured, attempting to move away from her. Jenni was strong, though, and before you could move very far, you were being pulled into her lap. 

“No. Talk to me.” Jenni encouraged, finally getting a look at your face. Her stomach dropped as she realized just how exhausted you were, and just how upset. Your bottom lip trembled as you tried to stop your tears, fighting against the urge to lean into your girlfriend. If the past day had taught you anything, it was that Jenni didn’t need to deal with your stress. That was the reason she must have been pulling away, and you wanted to respect her obvious need for space. 

“I’m fine, Jenni, just go to bed. I’ll be in later.” Your voice was raspy from crying, and Jenni’s brow furrowed. 

Shaking her head, she leaned in to place the gentlest of kisses on your cheek. “Cari, I am not going anywhere until you tell me what is wrong.” 

Again, it felt like every part of you was begging to collapse into her. You just couldn’t do it. “You have enough on your plate. Don’t worry about me.” Even as you spoke, tears ran down your face, and you sniffled pitifully. 

Jenni rolled her eyes in response, her slender fingers pushing your hair away from your face. “I love you, I am going to worry about you. Especially when I find you like this. Now tell me what is wrong so I can fix it.” 

There was nowhere for you to look but at her, and her eyes were so earnest and so concerned, you gave in. “I-I’m just so stressed, Jen. I can’t- there isn’t enough time for me to get everything done and I’m so tired and I can’t do this anymore I’m losing my mind, and I’m too much for you and I just-”

Jenni became laser focused on the end of your rambling sentences, her hands working frantically to run through your hair and caress your face in comfort. “No, you are not too much for me, mi amor. Never. Why would you think that?” 

Looking at her with wide eyes, you wondered why she was lying. “You’ve been avoiding me these past few days. You’ve barely been here, you left this morning without even waking me, I-”

Shaking her head rapidly, Jenni felt guilt tugging at her. She should have known better, should have known you’d never do anything to hurt her, but yourself? That was another story. “Amor, you’ve been avoiding me for weeks. I was only trying to give you space.”

“I was trying to give you space.” You choked out. “I thought you were tired of me.” 

“No, mi amor, no.” Jenni sighed, gripping you by the shoulders and internally cursing herself. “I thought you were tired of me. You’ve been so busy, and I just thought you wanted to spend less time with me.” 

‘No, I didn’t want that.” You shook your head, shrugging her hands off your shoulders, only to wrap your own arms around her abdomen and bury your face in her neck. “I was just so busy and so overwhelmed, I didn’t want to stress you out.” 

With a gentle hand on the back of your head, Jenni pressed you in closer to her and left a kiss on the side of your head. “You do not stress me out. I want to help you when you are stressed, but I cannot do that if it feels like you do not want me around.” 

You nodded into her neck, knowing she likely felt the tears running off your face and onto her skin. “I’m sorry.” You whimpered. 

“It’s alright, cari. I’m sorry too, I should have noticed you were stressed.” 

When she only got a shrug in response, she leaned you back from her and studied your face closely. “What’s going on, hmm? School doesn’t normally get you like this.” 

Subconsciously, you tried to match the rise and fall of your girlfriend’s chest, willing yourself to just calm down so you could have a conversation. “It’s the extra classes. It’s way too much, I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m barely getting everything done and it’s building up and-” 

“Extra classes?” Jenni asked, her forehead wrinkling in confusion. 

You blinked at her. You’d told her about the extra classes… right? Admittedly, Jenni didn’t listen very hard when you talked about school, so it was entirely possible she’d just missed it, but she always remembered the important things. “I told you. I’m taking four this term.” 

“Four! Why would you do that?!” Jenni exclaimed, her face so comically surprised, you had to fight a smile. “You didn’t tell me, amor.” 

“I did!” You argued back. “So I can finish school this term instead of after the next one.” 

Jenni shook her head, her face turning slightly stern. “You did not tell me. That is too much, mi amor, why would you do that? No wonder you’re so overwhelmed.” She tutted. 

You thought hard, your eyebrows scrunching in a way Jenni found downright adorable. “Oh. I decided when I was home with my family for the holidays. I must have told them and forgotten to tell you…”

You looked at Jenni wearily, wondering if she’d be upset. Instead, she was chuckling at you and shaking her head. It was very you to forget something like this. Jenni liked to joke that you spend all your brain power on football and school, and there wasn’t any left over for common sense. 

“Sorry, Jen. I thought I told you.” You mumbled, face turning red with embarrassment. Maybe your girlfriend would have been annoyed, if she wasn’t so very in love with you. All your quirks, though, were just silly to her, endearing. She had become horrifically soft for you, she realized. 

“It’s okay, you didn’t do it on purpose.” Jenni said kindly. “I understand now, why you’ve been so busy. But, amor, if it is too much, why don’t you just drop a class? Or turn in a few assignments late. You only need a certain grade to pass, no? Not everything has to be perfect. You have to give yourself a break.” 

It was everything you’d needed to hear, and still, everything you refused to believe. You couldn’t drop a class, couldn’t get less than a perfect score. You didn’t deserve a break, not until everything was done. Jenni’s face fell as your eyes began to water again, and she worried she said the wrong thing. 

A flood of words spewed from your mouth, trying to help her understand what you didn’t even really understand. “I don’t know how to stop. I don’t know how to take a break without someone telling me to, I feel like my body is shutting down Jenni, I’m so tired,” you sobbed, once more pressing your face into her chest, likely staining her shirt with tears. She was quick to wrap you in a hug, hushing you quietly. 

“Oh, mi amor.” She sighed, stroking her fingers through your hair. “I’m so sorry I didn’t realize you were having a hard time, I’m sorry I didn’t help.” 

That felt like an incredibly ridiculous thing for her to apologize for, and you told her so. “You shouldn’t have to do that, you shouldn’t have to take care of me like that”

“Of course I do. I want to. That is what partners do, no?” She replied incredulously, using her sleeve to gently swipe the tears off your face. She hated to see you cry, but she loved how long your eyelashes got when they were wet with tears; it made your eyes look bigger, somehow, and it always made her want to hold onto you and never let go. 

“You don’t have to.” You argued weakly. 

Jenni kissed you gently instead of replying right away, her soft lips pressing into yours telling you more than she could probably convey with words. “I’m going to, cariño.” 

“Okay.” You whispered, effectively convinced by her kiss, knowing Jenni well enough to know that if you agreed with her, she’d kiss you again. And she did. 

“We’ll start now then. Let’s take a break. We can lay on the couch and take a nap and then order dinner in.” She was already shutting your computer and carefully putting your notes into a pile, before placing it all on the table. 

“But my essay,” you argued halfheartedly, knowing you would probably only be capable of writing incomprehensible sentences at this point. The striker turned back to you, a stern look on her face once again. Jenni shook her head firmly, her thumbs running back and forth across your cheeks in an incredibly soothing manner. “No essay is worth this. You need to take a break, and rest.” 

“I- I don’t…”

“Hmm? You don’t what, amor?” Her voice held a challenge, almost begging you to argue with her about needing a break. She didn’t understand, but she wanted to, more than anything. 

“I didn’t finish.” You whispered. “I don’t deserve a break until I’m done.” 

“Cariño,” Jenni sighed, gently pulling on the back of your neck until you’d tucked your face in against her. She kissed the top of your head, mumbling her next words into your hair. “You are not a machine. You deserve a break whenever you need one, and you need one right now. No arguments.” 

And though it felt all wrong, you let Jenni remove all your study materials from the room, putting them god knows where. She returned, sliding onto the couch and pulling you so you were laying in her arms. 

Once your favorite show had been put on the TV, you looked up at her, chin resting on her chest. “I’m really sorry you felt so neglected, Jen.” You murmured. Now that you were no longer panicked about not getting your essay done, guilt had flooded you. “I wasn’t trying to avoid you, I promise. I’m so-”

“It’s okay, mi amor.” Jenni smiled. Now that her insecurities had been relatively addressed, [and now that she felt ridiculous for having them in the first place,] her only focus was on getting you to relax. Incidentally, that meant you would be spending a fair amount of time with her going forward, and that was a win for the striker. “I do not want to hear any more about it, si? All is forgiven.” 

Jenni’s ability to forgive was one of her best traits, and you knew that when she said she forgave you, she meant it. 

“Now, for my plan.” She continued, smiling almost mischievously at you. 

“Your plan?” You asked wearily. 

“Si, my very smart and well thought out plan.” Jenni grinned. “We are going to make a schedule. There will be Jenni time and study time, but not too much study time.” 

“What about too much Jenni time?” You smirked. 

She frowned at you. “That is not possible.” 

You laughed, laying your head back down on her chest. “Anything else?” 

“And now it is nap time, because your eyes are falling shut and you slept for three hours last night.” Her arms locked around you, allowing no escape. Not that you wanted one. 

“Okay.” You mumbled, squirming slightly until your face was tucked into her neck, blocking out the light of the room. You drifted off quickly, lulled into sleep by Jenni’s hands rubbing up and down your back, and the rise and fall of her chest under you. 

Jenni waited an entire hour to order dinner, thinking that she could wake you when it arrived, if you weren't already awake. She got the message that the food had been delivered a half hour after that, trying to wipe the stupid grin off her face at the way you were curled up on top of her. How she could have ever doubted your love for her, she wasn’t sure. 

“Amor? The food is here.” She whispered, pushing your hair out of your face enough to see that your eyes were shut, your face relaxed. Giving up ridiculously quickly, she settled into the couch, allowing you to stay asleep. The food could wait. You needed the rest, and your girlfriend was more than happy to be a pillow for you, for as long as you needed her to be.  

------

as if i would study if i was jenni's girlfriend, and not spend the whole day looking at her like 🙂

[kumkaniudaku]

Oral Assessment

Summary: When Asia's in need of a few lessons regarding matters of the bedroom, her colleague and friend, Kelvin, offers his expertise.

Pairing: Kelvin Harrison Jr. x Black!OC

Warnings: Mature Content (18+)

Word Count: 5.8k

MASTERLIST

When Asia set out on a journey of sexual discovery, the details of the how got lost in the time spent with the who. 

Being with Kelvin was the easy part. He was patient and kind, with a sense of humor that could trick the Pope into following him into a bar for a drink and conversation. Asia had no problem listening to him rant when he called to confirm plans or just to pick with her in his spare time. Of all her rash decisions, allowing him to usher her into a new phase of life felt the most natural. 

The most daunting task was standing in front of Kelvin while she debated whether to disrobe with another human in the room. She felt frozen as she stared into the full-length mirror opposite her bed. The reflection caught Kelvin's undivided attention, bathing her with an intense yet playful curiosity in anticipation of clothes hitting the floor piece by piece. 

He lay with one leg propped and the other stretched long, showcasing lean limbs under the outside clothes Asia complained about the moment he plopped his body on her bedsheets. He told her to calm down, not knowing that no amount of alcohol or centering breaths could break the stronghold fear had on her throat and lungs. She'd tried them both, only to be let down the second she opened her front door to hurriedly usher him inside.

Loosening up felt all but impossible. Asia could smell the woody mix of something she probably couldn't afford wafting off Kelvin's clean skin. At least it was a pleasant consolation prize for his insistence on committing her biggest pet peeve in only his second visit to her home. Asia knew she'd be smelling his lingering aroma long after he vanished into the city streets like an imaginary friend that she always talked about but could never prove really existed. A fresh haircut and groomed facial hair highlighted near-perfect features on a blemish-free face. Though he'd mentioned he had plans when they were done, she couldn't help but feed into the delusion that him being so gussied up was just for her. 

She chewed the side of her cheek in a desperate attempt to squash the nerves, tingling every nerve ending from her head to her toes.

"You act like you're afraid of your own body." Kelvin's accusatory observation cut through the tense air, making Asia jump from the sudden noise. He chuckled with a boyish grin, turning the corners of his lips upward and lifting his hand in faux surrender. "My bad. Just tryin' to break the ice since you been standing there for, like, five minutes doing nothing. We can always skip this one and go get drinks or something. It's cool." 

Asia rushed to clean up the mess she'd made in the thick of awkward contemplation." No," she blurted, trying to save face. "I'm gonna do it. I promise." 

She was going to get undressed eventually. She'd practiced on Facetime with Sabrina the moment Kelvin texted his plan for the weekend. She skipped over every line about wanting her to practice confidence in the bedroom to hyper-focus on the word 'naked,' then typed a wordy mini novel to her designated hoe friend, searching for a pre-game opportunity to work out the jitters. What she accomplished with Sabrina was long out of the window and somewhere inside, a girl who knew exactly what she wanted when a fine man was in the room. 

"I'm not afraid of seeing myself naked," she answered in a rush of air. "I love my body. It's other people seeing it that I'm afraid of."

A too honest truth. From the moment a boy in her third-grade class made her aware of her budding breasts that stuck out as odd in a sea of pre-pubescent girls, Asia became forced to reckon with the notion that other people had opinions about the way she looked and weren't shy about sharing them despite her discomfort. Her mother did her best to encourage her rapidly developing only child, but kids were brutal. And when they stopped being brutal during her freshman year of high school, they moved on to being too handsy and downright disgusting. 

The last time she undressed in front of a man, he spent the immediate seconds after she pulled off her beat-up Boycott Beyoncé t-shirt, pointing out how the abs she had when they met at a spring break pool party had disappeared after dinner. If she could've evaporated into a plum of smoke and made her escape through his hotel room's air vents, she would've done so without a second thought.

Kelvin took in her earnest admission with an understanding head nod. "I feel you. I took off my shirt at a bar in undergrad on some drunk shit, and the DJ yelled, 'Aye, who let the nigga with the concave chest get lit!' Kept my clothes on for two semesters after that." 

"I want you to know I'm laughing with you right now. Just a small chuckle. Barely a giggle, really."

"Yeah, alright," he volleyed back at her, all of his teeth on display in an alluring smile before joining her in the laugh she couldn't contain. "Look, if you're not ready, I mean it when I say we can do something else. But, you're gonna have to get undressed eventually. It's kinda the whole basis of sex." 

Asia scoffed. "You tellin' me you get naked every time you have sex. You're lying!"

"Socks off, girl. I'm not fuckin' around. You can't half-ass nothing. Gotta do it with your whole ass!" Kelvin's ability to joke in the face of serious matters infused the levity Asia had been trying to drum up since he stepped into her apartment. He watched her perm-rodded coils swing as she turned back to the mirror to examine her body again. Despite the sweet laughter that made her light up like a Christmas tree, trepidation had her tugging at the sleeves of her sweatshirt. Kelvin carefully slid to the edge of the bed and reached for Asia's hand. "Would it help if I did it with you?"

She looked at him through the mirror, studying his expression for signs of deceit before tilting her head as if asking her question before she could get it out. "Would you do that for real?" 

"If it made you feel more comfortable. Plus, I had a crazy chest session, and somebody has to see these gains." 

"That bar situation really stuck with you, huh?" 

"I'll never get caught lackin' again." They shared another laugh that soon tapered off into comfortable silence. Kelvin pulled Asia's fingers to his lips for a quick kiss that turned up the heat in the room more than any thermostat ever could. He looked up at her with deep pools of decadent dark chocolate he called irises. "You start, I follow," he spoke against her knuckles. "We go at your pace." 

Asia didn't give herself much time to weasel her way out of facing her discomfort head-on. She silently slipped her hand from his loose grip to grab her top from the bottom and pull over her head.

She felt lucky to be wearing a bra that hid the immediate hardening of her nipples once Kelvin stood up to mirror her fluid motion and remove his own shirt. Chest day had done him a world of good and then added more for good measure. Who knew he had all of that working for him underneath unseasonably thick hoodies and band t-shirts?  

Her ogling didn't go unnoticed, earning a smile from Kelvin with his bottom lip tucked beneath a row of pearly whites. A short glance at her bottom half convinced Asia to slowly step out of her leggings and leave space for him to peel off dark denim, never breaking eye contact with the woman dominating his thoughts for the better part of seven days. 

She shimmied out of her bra with his help to undo the tricky metal clasp, and he pantomimed doing the same to pull a laugh out of her before he took a seat at the edge of the bed. Kelvin pointed at the black boyshorts barely covering her behind and searched her eyes for permission. "Can I take these off for you?" 

Asia didn't answer with the words she was convinced sounded sexy as she rehearsed them in her mind. Instead, she gave him the green light with a whispered "yes" on her lips. 

Kelvin hooked his fingers at the waistband of her panties and gave them a sure pull to slide them down thick thighs and muscular calves until they pooled at her feet for her to kick into the pile with all of their discarded apparel. 

"You don't wanna finish," Asia questioned, the coiling of doubt in her belly convincing her that something about her caused him to stop short. 

He shook his head and dragged his fingertips along her hips, transfixed by the seemingly neverending expanse of beautifully dark skin. "Tonight is about you. I'll have opportunities." Soft, deliberate touches preceding butterfly kisses across her stomach sent goosebumps to crowd each spot lucky enough to receive his affection. He paused his exploration to look up at her with his lips hovering above her navel. "Not so bad, huh?" 

"Mm-mm," she forced out, too focused on soft lips kissing hot skin. Anticipation made her breathing shallow and her thoughts cloudy. Kelvin and every intentional squeeze, kiss, and nibble slowly chipped away at residual apprehension.

"Your body is beautiful." His compliments sounded like poems in flowery Shakespearean language written for her ears alone. He continued his praise after a kiss on her hip. "It's not enough for you to hear it, though. You gotta know how beautiful you are. Know it like you know your name."

Shit. What is my name? Asia thought to herself as Kelvin looked up at her expectantly. "Asia," she spoke as if he'd asked her to confirm what her mother named her 30 years ago. She blinked and shook her head from side to side to clear up unprecedented brain fog. "That's my name. And my body is beautiful."

He smirked up at her just as his slender fingers made acquaintance with the cuff of her ass. "What makes your body feel beautiful?" 

Squatting her body weight for the first time initially came to mind. Then the fleeting thought of her favorite pair of jeans that made her rear sit up like Tracee Ellis Ross's ass when she was Joan in Girlfriends. Asia took a meandering stroll through a collection of memories and scenarios until she landed on the one constant that could get her closer to the promised land. 

"Touching…myself." The admission induced a glimmer of bubbling interest in Kelvin's eyes, silently urging Asia to say more. "When I was in high school, an issue of Cosmo that I read at the hair salon when my mom wasn't looking said to try doing it in the mirror to feel sexy. So, I waited until she went to work one Saturday, and I tried it…" 

Her words trailed, leaving room for Kelvin to nudge her toward filling the gaps. "Did it work?" 

"When I finally got the courage to do it in college, yeah," she shared after a small huff of a laugh. "It's the first time I felt like I had power over my pleasure. If no one else was gonna make me feel good, I knew I could."

"Would that make you feel beautiful right now?" 

It'd certainly make her feel something. Beautiful. Electrified. Satiated. Nasty in all the right ways. All of those things wrapped up into a ball of inescapable pleasure that she was almost too afraid to touch with a ten-foot poll.

Almost.

Kelvin waited for Asia to answer with bated breath, hoping he hadn't overstepped or pushed her too far out of her comfort zone. The last thing he wanted was to squander the trust he worked to build because he couldn't keep his carnal nature in check.

His I'm sorry ran headfirst into her, I think it would, creating a harsh cacophony of overlapping sentiments that made them both giggle like school kids flirting in the back of the classroom. 

Flattening his palms on her back to inch her just a little closer, Kelvin's short chuckle came through as a low rumble. Asia noticed how his face softened when he gazed up at her with his chin pressed into her abdomen. Care? Admiration? Mutual desire? Likely none of those, but she allowed herself to dream while Kelvin attempted to get to the bottom of her desires. "What do you want?" An open-mouth kiss felt like a livewire across Asia's skin, stealing the ability to think and robbing her of words to answer such a simple question. 

Arousal, the full range of throbbing, aching, and craving, blossomed in her belly with every peck above the freshly shaved skin covering her pubic bone. She anchored her hands on his shoulders and gripped just enough to keep her upright when her knees tried to betray her and turn into jelly.

"I want to…try," she finally breathed out, the words almost a whisper that she felt compelled to repeat. "I want to try with you. Right now." 

When Asia decided to embark on a journey of sexual discovery, he hadn't envisioned a world where she'd be under the unwavering supervision of her goofy coworker while she slowly coaxed herself to completion. 

This was too taboo, too private, and dirty to share with another person. She wasn't supposed to be gathering slick arousal on the tips of her fingers and using it to lubricate languid revolutions around her pearl and letting Kelvin kiss a trail from her shoulder to her ear and back. Under no circumstances was she supposed to grind her hips with her eyes slammed shut to focus on the task she'd done alone so many times before. And she damn sure wasn't supposed to be suppressing airy gasps and quiet curses as the rewards of self-pleasure slowly approached. 

"Why you hidin' that pretty voice from me?" Kelvin's question came in a low rumble from lips freshly moistened by an eager tongue looking for a job to do. He pressed his chest against her arm while she worked her wrist and fingers against the spot where all her nerve endings seemed to converge for an orgasm festival she didn't know would overflowing with partygoers. 

He walked his fingers up Asia's inner thigh and smirked against her neck. "Let me hear something." 

A shallow breath helped her force out a quiet expletive. "Fuuuuck."

"You can do better than that," he teased, a slow grin crinkling the thin skin at the corners of his bright eyes. "Try again." The insistent nudge of his nose against her jaw urged her to take another crack at adding audio to the graphic mixture of senses. 

He could see her lower lips and pearl glistening with beautiful arousal, feel her skin growing warmer beneath his hands, and could almost smell the mouth-watering aroma of her pussy if he focused hard enough. But he wanted to hear her. He needed to get an earful of her crying out in ecstasy for her sake and his. Having the memory stored deep in the grooves of his constantly racing mind to use when he had a moment alone was almost as important as helping her find the courage to embrace the sexiness she already possessed. 

Asia's body buzzed in a shudder just as her mouth dropped open and her lower back arched off the bed. "Oh…fuck!" Another outburst came forth before she could stop it. "Shit." Abandoning its job to keep her lower lips parted for easier access, Asia's left hand crept up her body to pull and pinch at her nipple. But it wasn't enough. For the first time, she needed the touch of another to get the job done. What a colossal mismanagement of resources would it be if she didn't put her instructor to work? "Can you touch me? Please?" 

Kelvin hoped he didn't appear too eager when he jumped at the chance to cup his hand beneath the curve of her breast, squeezing slightly as his thumb rubbed against the hardened brown tips standing straight for his attention, leaving her left hand to busy itself with clinging to his bicep. 

She moaned from the sensation, and he hummed back in satisfaction before dipping his head to kiss a spot above his thumb. That voice. He'd miss it long after they were done with their little experiment. And after he was done missing the way filthy profanities cascaded from her lips like love songs, he'd move on to missing the vision of her legs spreading to offer him a better viewing angle. 

He spoke into her ear like he was sharing a secret in a room full of people. "I'm givin' you what you need? Check in with me." 

The absence of a coherent answer gave an idle mind time to roam – time to play with things it had only imagined in private up to this point.

Kelvin waited for her to catch a breath while he focused on the slow descent of clear saliva on its way to her areola. He watched it leave a wet trail down the swell of her tit, acting as a way finder to her nipples and found a disgusting joy in seeing a part of him coating her body. 

They groaned in tandem when he went to clean up his mess with a swirl and flick of his tongue. For a moment, Asia took a break from her self-exploration to palm the back of Kelvin's head and keep him latched for a few moments longer. 

"Damn, baby," she moaned, unaware of the slip of her tongue and the fire she'd lit inside of him. 

Her praises came in the kind of hazy, nearly incomprehensible slurry reserved for folks known to drown the troubles of yesterday, today, and tomorrow in a bottle of their preferred liver-wilting potion. To anyone listening, she sounded like she could use an Advil and a water bottle for hydration. But to Kelvin, her repetitive calls for him to suckle harder were nothing short of a concert crowd begging for an encore.

A covert shift in his position allowed him to pin her thigh beneath his before his hands took a deep sea dive between her thighs with only one mission in mind. Feeling her writhing beneath him while a guttural moan ripped through her throat from his digits taking the lead between her lower lips made him grin with her nipple still in his mouth.

Het body felt set ablaze, dipped in a fiery lake of passion and wanton desire that couldn't fully be quenched with hands-on contact. Asia needed to be touched from the inside and rutted into until her toes touched the soles of her feet. This moment of moderate pressure and intentional rubbing would have to do. 

Kelvin found himself so lost in feeling Asia being worked to the edge and pulled back over and over that he didn't catch her free hand sneaking toward his crotch to tend to what she knew had to be a painful strain against black cotton. 

His eyelids fluttered closed of their own volition, sparking uneven breathing, and his muscles seized from the unexpected touch. "You know what you doing?" he asked, half hoping Asia would abandon his lesson in confidence and take a step back.  

"I'll learn." 

Kelvin reluctantly peeled his eyes away from the show between her legs in time to catch her looking back at him like he was fresh water in a vast desert. Hungry. Like a lioness scouting the vast Savannah for the pride's next meal. 

Part of him wanted to tell her they'd work on those skills during their next time together. That part stayed quiet as she dipped her hand past the Calvin Klein etched into his waistband, past the thick hair curling at his pubic area, and, finally, to the appendage standing proud to greet its new best friend. 

His body grew rigid, then relaxed under her careful, exploratory touch. Handjobs, in his opinion, were childish relics from high school movie dates meant to remain nostalgic in the way that he would never return to the skinny jeans of his youth. Cool for the moment, but he'd evolved as one does when the age. This was something else entirely. Or maybe it wasn't, and the deed that he thought he was too old to desire and enjoy only needed the introduction of someone who didn't carry the baggage of how sex was supposed to go. 

Together, they worked each other into a frenzy with arms crossing invisible borders and residing down south with intentions of a photo finish. When Kelvin moaned a hoarse indicator that she knew what she was doing, Asia met him with a sound that matched his in perfect harmony. Her hands worked his shaft with little instruction while he pumped two fingers in and out of her dripping heat.

Every once in a while, he'd groan a directive like, "Slow down. Yeah, like that. Just like that." she'd mumble that she understood before following instructions like his star pupil.

Soon, Kelvin found himself more exposed than he had planned, and at the brink of a release he was saving for the quiet sanctuary of his shower. He had to stop her before he introduced her to more than she was ready to handle. 

His fingers slowed to a creep, drawing a whimper and involuntary clench from Asia as she focused on gliding her hands slowly up and down his member. "I wanna taste you. Can I?"

"What?" she questioned, not sure she heard him correctly. "I mean, yes, but I've never really…done that before." 

He kissed her cheek and lips to quell bubbling fear. "That's okay. Let me show you." Trepidation in her eyes prompted a slow, searching kiss to further calm surging nerves. Kelvin reaffirmed his commitment to her safety against her lips. "I got it. Enjoy this." 

"Can I kiss you here?" was Kelvin's first question, mumbled against Asia's inner thigh while he positioned his head between her legs. Every peck, lick, and graze of his teeth across supple skin made her claw at the sheets beneath them, then at the nape of his neck when the high thread count became insufficient. 

Somewhere in the ether, Asia heard the advice to brace herself. Still, she let it pass until the shock of his tongue across her clit jolted her head off the pillow to look down at Kelvin. 

This was what Sabrina, her sister, and all the women she admired via her secret subreddit interactions meant when they talked about seeing stars from their partner's tongue alone. She'd seen enough videos and worn her vibrator out to the thought of having a man dedicate his time to kissing her most intimate parts like he would the lips on her face, but every passing birthday had her thinking the day would never come. Now here she was, about to cum and so afraid of the overlapping sensations that she felt like she had to get away, but the firm grip of her thighs against Kelvin's fingers simultaneously kneading at her flesh kept her locked into place.

Undeterred by her squirming, Kelvin resolved to put on a show with bursting, colorful fireworks and end like it was Independence Day for them and them alone. Lapping at her like a man possessed, he coaxed her to the brink of release quicker than expected. She called for him under the haze of lover's bliss, trying but failing to get him to stave off what she knew was more explosive than any time before. 

She'd gone quiet again, stifling her moans behind the arm covering her mouth while the other extended to push at the sage green upholstered headboard occasionally knocking against the wall. "Louder." His demand came in muffled against her pussy, gruff and impatient like he'd been waiting all day for her to give him what he wanted. When she didn't respond in the way he'd hoped, his palm harshly collided with her outer thigh before soothing the spot, making her finally cry out to his partial delight. "C'mon. Louder!" 

"Ohmygoooood," she slurred, finally popping the lid on her voice, unable to stuff the near screams back into a container. "Th-they'll hear m-me!" 

"Fuck 'em. Let 'em hear." 

She only knew her next-door neighbor to the right, Alister, as a quiet redhead with two cats and a penchant for making foul-smelling fish dishes on Saturday evening when she had a small collection of women file into her apartment for what Asia assumed was some sort of book club meeting. On the other side, Marie and Carson were a nice lesbian couple who would say good morning and bring in Asia's packages if she wasn't around for more than a day. Asia didn't know these people beyond their infrequent passing encounters. She hoped that the noises she was making, the squealing and thick, husky moans hitting the ceiling and raining down on her, wouldn't alter their hopefully positive perception of her. 

She'd never heard them, but they were damn sure about to hear her and what her voice could sound like when she was in tears at the height of a shaking orgasm with her hands smushed against her gentleman caller's head.

If he remembered nothing else from the first time Asia Scott made his face shine in her bed, Kelvin would remember almost cumming himself from her taste. He'd call it sweet if someone pried for the details long enough, but the adjective wasn't enough to describe something he considered totally and indescribably unique. Something that he had to coach himself into pulling away from to watch her chest heave in the afterglow of his best attempt to date. 

While she let her eyes roll behind closed lids to come down from her high, he kissed his way past the meeting at her thighs, up her stomach glistening in a light sheen of sweat, on both breasts, then her stomach, on her chin, and finally her lips as his hands traced a path up the sheets to clasp their fingers above her pillow. 

They got lost in each other for an amount of time neither of them wanted to keep track of, tongues meeting and retreating while Asia got used to the taste of her body in his mouth. Kelvin couldn't help grinding his clothed erection against her naked core to judge her reaction. Asia rewarded him with a final moan that he swallowed with pride. 

He pressed their foreheads together and pulled away to ask, "How you feel?" 

"Incredible." Kelvin watched her smile in the kind of post-release euphoria that came with a goofy grin and the sheen of a job well done, confirming without words that lesson two was a resounding success. He dipped his head to kiss her nose, then each corner of her mouth, too drunk off of her body beneath his to realize that business was starting to blur into the performance of romance. "What's next?" Asia asked, internally hoping he had a few more moments to spare. 

A thought crossed his mind as he kissed his way to a spot underneath her ear. Though he tried to will it away and bid her good night in enough time to slink out into the night with no emotional strings attached, he couldn't keep his idea to himself. 

"Ride with me tonight." He pulled back to look into Asia's eyes and scan for any signs of pushback. She stared back at him, questions furrowing her brow and her teeth nervously grating her bottom lip. He gently smoothed a wayward coil back into place and softened his gaze, pleading for her yes.

Leaning up to kiss his bottom lip, she finally answered. "Okay, but you gotta have me home before midnight." 

---------

The clamor of voices filling a small warehouse space teeming with eclectic art types dressed like they were supposed to be on the cover of a special issue of Essence Magazine and not perusing an art installation on a Saturday night. 

"The Art of Storytellin'" was an immersive experience chronicling Black stories through a mix of mediums from a collection of Black artists dedicated to representing the full gamut of Black life across the diaspora. At least that's what Asia read in the brochure slapped into her hand as she followed Kelvin through the tinted glass doors into a space she would never in a million years venture into alone. 

He led her through a winding maze of canvases, framed photography collections, and strategically placed bar carts to take a gander at piece after piece of awe-inspiring work. At points, he would stop and point out artists he knew by name and some he only knew by their signature brush strokes and expression style. She listened intently while he explained subtle nuances that didn't immediately jump out to the untrained eye, relishing the opportunity to step deeper into his world. In a few weeks, he'd be back to his life, and she'd be back to spending her weekends curled up with a glass of Merlot and another Sex and the City rewatch. Tonight, she chose to give in to the whimsy of his spirited explanation and his hand on the small of her back to guide her through the crowd. 

In a corner partitioned with elegant white drapery to create a room, a single canvas called "Candy Lady" sat underneath a spotlight, shrouding it in diffused light. Kelvin stood back as Asia read the placard of information beside it, occasionally cross-referencing the words with what she could see with her naked eye. 

An angelic glow backlit her, and, not willing to miss the way she looked like art all by herself, he pulled his phone out of his back pocket to snap a picture for posterity. He stared at the photo with stars in his eyes, totally lost in what God had made.

"Rosé, sir?" The innocent question cut through his only thought, making him scramble to return to his home screen and save himself from embarrassment. The server waited for him to return her eye contact before pushing the tray in his direction and asking again. "Champagne? For you and your girlfriend?" 

Kelvin knew he should've corrected her but ignored better decision-making to hurry the interaction along. "Uh, yeah," he chuckled to relieve the heat rising in his cheeks. "I'll take two. Thanks." 

Balancing two plastic flutes of bubbling blush pink liquid, Kelvin slowly crept forward to join Asia's side. She stood still with her chin slightly tilted, still examining what was slowly shaping up to be her favorite piece of art in the building. 

He smiled at her profile for a moment before speaking. "You like this one, huh?" 

"Don't you," she gushed, looking up at an impressionist acrylic painting of a woman handing out bags of assorted candy,  multicolored freeze cups, and two-for-a-dollar pickles. Varying hues of brown hands fisting dollar bills covered the lower third. A stack of past-due envelopes sat near her merchandise, underscoring the slight frown in her determined facial expression. "My auntie was the candy lady, so I used to help her count money when it got busy over the summers. I guess it reminds me of being a kid and how fun that was." She finally turned to him to pull her back to the present and pointed at the drinks in his hands. "One of those for me?" 

Kelvin rushed to hand over one of the two beverages, accepting her silly toast before putting the plastic cup to his lips. He grimaced his way through the first taste of dry alcohol while Asia drank like a pro, making her laugh. "That shit is gross! You like that?" 

"Sometimes," she giggled. "Don't worry about it. I'll finish yours, too. Hold on to it for now." 

He tilted his head and smirked. "But I drank off this one." 

"I don't know if you know this, but you just had your mouth on my coochie, and you've been finding reasons to kiss me like I wouldn't notice," she laughed before switching their glasses and taking a long sip to Kelvin's surprise. "We're past the whole cooties thing." 

Noted. Kelvin chuckled, choosing not to add a rebuttal and return his attention to the conversation piece in front of them. "I know the artist." 

Asia looked at him and nodded. "Tell them this is amazing work. It's simple yet familiar. I'm so in love that I might have to come out of my home decor budget for this one." 

"I'll let him know. Him being…me." Kelvin watched Asia's face shift from confusion to realization to shock before she pushed his shoulder to punctuate the tinge of disbelief in her high-pitched request for him to tell the truth. "For real. It's old, though. It was a last-minute entry to help him fill out the exhibit. It's under a different name because I don't show my stuff all that often." 

"Scared people are gonna like it too much?" 

He chucked. "Yeah. Something like that."

The warm flutter of butterflies in his chest made Kelvin look away from his audience of one to pretend the ceiling needed his careful inspection. Anything to take the attention away from being complimented by the only woman to make him nervous since his first long-term girlfriend in portfolio school. She'd unknowingly sent him into a tailspin of self-consciousness and giddiness all at once, the unlikely mishmash churning his stomach full of hors d'oeuvres and awful wine.

Asia eyed him suspiciously until she felt satisfied that he was being honest and not the version of himself that couldn't help but prank her in the office. Then, she reached forward to scan the QR code for immediate purchase. She tapped at her screen, keeping her attention there as she spoke. "Well. Guess your fear just came true." Her eyes flickered up briefly to find Kelvin already staring back with both lips tucked into his mouth to keep his smile from growing wider than his face could accommodate. She used her head to gesture toward the R&B artist performing in the next session before depositing her phone back into her bag. "Let's go over here. Think we might've found some talent for Black At Work mixer next month."

Kelvin watched Asia's backside sway in time with each long stride while she weaved her way through the crowd in a beeline to the makeshift stage, leaving him to beg his feet to move behind her. 

Stuck. She had him glued in place and wearing a stupid, unexplainable grin in the presence of 200 strangers wondering what the hell had short-circuited in his brain. And the craziest part? All he could say was her name in response. No context, no explanation, not even a hint to give a black and white picture neccessary color. Only the two proper nouns that made her identifiable on paper.

Asia Scott was going to be the death of him.

--------

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[shhhsecretsideblog]

a fic with both partners in labor?

I had a few requests for No.11 off my prompts list so I’ve tried to group these together into one story. Turns out writing mutual preg / birth is exhausting haha. First time answering a request / prompt, this one ended up a lot longer than I’d expected - 4.9k words. Hope you like :)

Girls Night Out

Leaning against the sink Rachel took a long deep breath and swayed her hips side to side to ease the tightening that was banding across her belly. It was the fourth one she’d felt since they arrived at the bar and they’d not even been here that long. Every wave that crested slowly told her what was coming.

The girls had decided to have a final evening out - dinner at a fancy restaurant followed by drinks at their favourite cocktail bar - the whole gang together one more time before the babies arrived. Rachel and her wife Emily were both pregnant and together they were soon to be the parents of two little baby girls. They’d been happily married for five years before they started looking into having children and Rachel and Emily were both keen to experience pregnancy. When they discovered a new fertility option being offered to same-sex couples they jumped at it. Rather than carrying their own genetic embryo, they each had the other’s fertilised egg implanted; Rachel was pregnant with Emily’s egg, and Emily was pregnant with Rachel’s. Not wanting to do things by half, they went through with the IVF at the same time and against all odds both implantations were a success. So here they were, both classed as ‘full term’ having one nostalgic evening out with their friends before their lives would change forever.

Alone in the empty restroom Rachel allowed herself to groan through the latest contraction. She should have realised sooner that she might be in labour, she was a trained midwife after all and should recognise these things. Clearly her ability to self-diagnose was severely lacking. Whilst Rachel wasn’t a practising midwife anymore, having given it up a few years ago, Emily was adamant she wanted Rachel to be the one to deliver her baby. Rachel was honoured to be bringing both their children into the world, as midwife and as birthing mother. She thought she had retained a decent level of midwifery intuition even after quitting the vocation, but “baby brain” had recently started to affect her. She was convinced Emily was having contractions earlier but her wife said she could barely feel them and were just braxton hicks. Rachel wished she could say the same but the contraction kept on squeezing and tightening her rounded stomach pressing everything downward. The baby’s head sitting heavily in her hips made everything feel so damn low.

A sudden wave of nausea washed over her and Rachel bolted into a cubical. Falling to her knees she vomited the meal they’d just spent an extortionate amount of money for. She grasped her hair with one hand and cupped the swell of her stomach with the other as she retched over the porcelain. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d thrown up in these toilets, but previously she’d been extremely drunk, not to mention a lot younger. It was a very different type of night out. When her stomach had emptied she wiped her mouth and blew her nose and was about to blame poor cooking for her sickness when she noticed a wetness dripping down the inside of her thighs. It was promptly followed by another more aggressive contraction.

Yup, this is definitely labour, no denying it now. She thought to herself, riding out the wave kneeling on the bathroom floor. She quickly discovered that contractions were much stronger after your waters break, now understanding exactly what all her previous patients had gone through. Breathing deeply until it passed, Rachel then managed to stand up and return to the sink. Shit, she definitely looked like a woman in labour now. Sweat had started to gather on her forehead and her cheeks were looking flush and rosey. She’d seen these signs plenty of times before but hoped no one else would catch on as quick. They’d have to end the evening early now. She would need to go back out to the bar, find a way to discreetly tell her wife that the baby was coming, so they could make their excuses and head home and on to the birth centre. She splashed cold water on her face, trying to look a bit more composed, when suddenly the toilet door crashed open.

“Oh my god, Rachel!” Her friend Eve spluttered in a frenzied panic. “You have to come quick. Emily’s water has just broken, she’s in labour!”

You’re kidding, Rachel thought.

“What happened?” She asked, immediately worrying about her wife and following Eve out of the toilets.

“I don’t know. One minute we were giggling over old uni stories and the next, splash. I think Steph’s bag took the worst hit.” Eve couldn’t help the smirk that pulled her lips despite the serious situation.

“Is she having contractions?” Rachel asked, cupping her large swell as she waddled as fast as she could to keep up with Eve down the long corridor.

“If she was, she didn’t say until her water broke. She had been shifting and grimacing a bit, but she said it was just the baby kicking.”

Rachel scoffed, realising now that her intuition had been spot on; Emily had been having contractions. But then why didn’t she say anything!? As if in response, Rachel’s own belly started to cramp. Emily was probably hiding it for the same reason Rachel was - not to ruin the evening.

“Oof- hang on a second Eve…” Rachel said breathlessly, stopping in the corridor and placing a hand against the wall to steady herself. “Mmmmhhhh…”

“What are you-” Eve stopped, turning around, seeing Rachel holding her bump and breathing deeply. “Oh no. No way. Rachel please tell me you’re not in labour too!”

“Hooooo- I didn’t exactly plan this- ooooohh…” Rachel said through controlled breaths.

“This is what you get for getting pregnant at the same time! I said you two were mad.”

“Oh Eve… please don’t start…” Rachel whimpered as the contraction peaked.

Immediately feeling guilty Eve quickly ran over to her friend. “I’m sorry.” She said, rubbing a hand up and down Rachel’s back “You know I don’t mean it. You guys are incredible doing this together.”

“Thanks hun…” Rachel huffed, rocking her hips through the worst of the contraction.

“So, what’s the plan? Do we call you an Uber? An ambulance? Oh my god you’re both having your babies!”

“No! Shhhhh. We are not telling Emily I’m in labour.” Rachel urged.

“What? Why?”

“We can’t tell her. She has a birth plan, she’s been stressing over it for months. It’s bad enough she’s gone into labour here, if she finds out I’m in labour too she will freak out. Which won’t be good for her or the baby right now.”

“But what about you and your baby Rach?”

“I’ll be fine. I’m a midwife, I know how childbirth works. I can handle this.” Rachel exhaled a breath and straightened up, the contraction fading back down to just an uncomfortable pressure. “I’m more worried about Em right now.”

“Well…if you’re sure.”

“I am.” Rachel composed herself again, ready to go back out there and support her wife. “How is she doing, how bad are the contractions?”

“I think they’re pretty bad. She can’t even talk through them babes.”

Fuck. That wasn’t a good sign.

~•~•~•~•~

When Rachel and Eve returned to the bar, their friends were still sitting in their booth; Emily in the middle with Steph and Adrienne on either side. At first glance you wouldn’t know anything was wrong, but every couple of seconds people on nearby tables would look over to the group nervously. Emily’s water breaking had clearly attracted a lot of attention.

Emily looked up and saw her wife approaching and the relief in her expression was unmissable. Rachel waddled over to the table but before she arrived she watched the smile disappear from Emily’s lips. Her wife’s face abruptly scrunched up in pain and she grasped her pregnant swell. The music thumped loudly, covering up any sounds she could make, but the force of the contraction was clear by her body language alone.

Steph jumped up when Rachel arrived, allowing Rachel to awkwardly shuffle into the booth next to her wife.

“Hey. It’s okay, I’m here, I'm here. Just breathe Em. Slow, calm breaths. That’s it.” Rachel said, rubbing her upper back supportively.

Emily curled into her wife, as much as their pregnant bellies would allow, and moaned deeply against her neck. “Unhhhhh… Rach.. con-contrac- I- I…”

“Shhh you don’t have to speak. You’re doing great.” Rachel said. “Take it steady, you got this. In and out. We’ll get through this one and then we can talk.”

Rachel put a hand on Emily’s rounded stomach - the entire orb was contracting heavily, it was as solid as a rock. The way Emily moaned and squirmed in her seat, the tension stretching tight across her belly, had Rachel worried. She’d expected Emily to be in early labour, her waters simply breaking early on in the process, but it was quickly looking to be much more advanced than that.

Even with the loud music in the bar, Rachel could feel the deep groaning of her wife’s labour against her chest, the tone becoming low and gravelly. Emily’s thighs were slightly apart on the seat, her contracting belly sitting heavily between them. Another long groan escaped her wife’s lips which ended with an almost grunting sound.

Fuck, she sounds like she’s in transition already. Rachel thought worriedly, holding Emily’s hand and simultaneously rubbing her tight belly.

“Babe, I need to know what’s happening. What do you feel?” Rachel asked hesitantly.

“Mnnnggg- pressure. So much pressure…” Emily whimpered, the contraction beginning to release its grip.

“Okay, it’s gonna be fine. Just breathe, that’s it. Good girl. It’s sounding pretty intense, I think I need to check to see how dilated you are.”

“Oh no… really... Now? Here?” Emily panted.

“Do you think you can move?” Rachel asked.

“Maybe... Not far.”

“I’ll go see if they have a back room or something we can go to.” Adrienne chimed in, before disappearing to speak with the bar staff.

“Oh Rach, this is happening too fast. I don’t want to have my baby here.”

“It’s okay, I’ve got you.” Rachel reassured, kissing her forehead. “We’ll see how far you are and then we can decide what we want to do. If we go to the hospital or back home for our planned home birth.” Despite saying this, Rachel knew her own labour meant the latter wasn’t really an option.

Adrienne returned with news that the bar had a function room that wasn’t being used this evening, and they could use it for a bit of privacy. Rachel heaved her own pregnant body out of the booth and then turned to help Emily to do the same. Unfortunately the minute she stood up Rachel felt the beginning pangs of another contraction approaching.

“Adrienne, can you and Steph help take Emily to the b-back room? I don’t think I can support her my-myself.” Rachel gestured to her low-hanging bump and braced a hand on her twinging lower back.

“Of course.” Adrienne replied, putting an arm around Emily. Steph held Emily’s other arm and the three of them made their way to the function room at the back of the bar.

Rachel held it together for as long as Emily remained in eyesight but the second the girls rounded the corner Rachel spun around gripping the table hard to stop her knees from buckling.

“Ooofff- mnnnnghhh-!” She couldn’t stop the noise escaping her throat.

“Oh Rach,” Eve muttered, coming closer, shielding Rachel and her obvious contraction from the people in the bar. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”

“I..I’ll be f-f-fine. Hoooohooo- just a rough- contraction- unghh!” Rachel grunted, ignoring the weight and pressure that was building in her pelvis.

“You sound just as bad as Emily, hun.” Eve warned.

Rachel didn’t need the comparison and glared at her friend.

“I’m just saying! You can’t expect to hide this from her. Even with her own labour going on, she’s going to notice you pushing out your other baby.”

“I know, it’s just… ooohhh- we’re not telling her here, now. I need to find out how far along she is first… hoohoo- she seems pretty far into active labour but I don’t think she knows it. Then we can head to the birth centre and we’ll both check in. Alright?”

“Whatever you want to do, we’ll help you.” Eve replied, the uncertainty clear in her voice.

When the contraction had passed, Eve helped Rachel to the empty function room. Rachel was quick to let go of Eve’s support just before they opened the door making sure not to rouse any suspicion of her own condition.

They found Emily standing in front of a table, hands planted firmly on top, hips aggressively swaying and she was groaning like a cow. Rachel swallowed the anxiety creeping up her throat, all too familiar with this sight. Steph and Adrienne stood awkward and uncomfortable by Emily’s side and immediately vacated the space on the arrival of her wife.

“Hi honey,” Rachel said softly, brushing a fallen lock of hair behind Emily’s ear and rubbing her back. “How are you doing?”

“Oohhhh god- they won’t stop. It… hurts.. the baby feels so low… unghhhh! Rachel help me!” Emily cried out.

“It looks like you're progressing fast. Don’t worry, that’s alright, but I do need to have a look to see how soon our baby is coming.”

Emily nodded, showing her understanding but couldn’t form a reply.

“Are you able to sit on a chair, or are you happy there?” Rachel asked.

“No- unhhh- can’t sit- down…” Emily panted.

“That’s okay, we can do it here. I need you to lean over the table, as far as you can. I’ll lift your dress and remove your undies, okay?”

“That’s- that’s what you said to me- on our first- date.” Emily joked, breathing slightly slower as the contraction ebbed away.

Rachel laughed while Eve rolled her eyes.

Checking someone’s dilation was easy, but getting into a position to do so whilst heavily pregnant was going to be hard. Rachel lifted her wife’s dress so it rested on Emily’s flat back, and then slowly she lowered herself into a squat. A move she very quickly regretted.

The baby in her womb suddenly sank even further towards its exit, the head pressing forcefully and painfully on her rapidly dilating cervix.

“Ooooff- oh god!” Rachel couldn’t stop her reaction to the sudden shift.

“Are you okay?” Steph asked worriedly.

“Nngh! Yes.. I’m f-fine. Just.. got in an uncomfortable position that’s all.” Rachel moved to her knees, playing off her outburst as just regular pregnancy annoyance. Meanwhile Eve raised a singular eyebrow at her, knowing the true reason for her discomfort.

“Ok, let’s see how you’re doing hun.” Rachel said with expert professionalism, ignoring the increased weight that was now forcing apart her hips. Moving the underwear out the way, Rachel quickly checked her wife’s dilation.

“Jesus Christ Em, you’re about eight centimetres dilated!” Rachel exclaimed, removing her hand and heaving herself back to standing. The midwife’s brain immediately whirled into overdrive about the very limited time they had before the baby’s arrival.

“What!?” Emily panted, straightening up and twisting round to see her wife.

“You’ve been in labour all day haven’t you?”

“I… I can’t have… no. They weren’t real contractions.”

“Oh honey, I think they were. I’m so sorry but this baby is coming, and soon.” Rache emphasised, affectionately rubbing the curve of her wife’s pregnant stomach before turning towards their friends. “Someone needs to call an ambulance. We’re not going to make it anywhere before the baby comes.”

“Oh my god.” “Shit.” “Fuck.” came the responses of their best friends.

“No… Rachel, I can’t… I can’t have my baby here.” Emily muttered with a panicked, shaky breath, her eyes widening and welling with tears. “I had a birth plan, we were supposed to be at home. You and me. Not in the b-back of a bar that smells like tequilaaa - oooohhhhh!”

A contraction stole the rest of Emily’s sentence and she braced herself once more against the table. Rachel moved behind her, pressing her expert thumbs deep into the pressure points of Emily’s lower back to help relieve some of her wife’s pain.

“Try and stay calm, Em. I know this isn’t what we planned, but we’ve got this. Babies are born every day and I’ll be right here w-with you… Just breathe through it. In and- ohhhhh- out.” Rachel found her body syncing with her wife’s, plaguing them both with a contraction at the same time. “Will one of you call a damn ambulance.” She gritted to the others, swallowing down the moan in her throat, trying hard to keep her laboured breathing as quiet as possible.

Emily began to tremble, her knees starting to buckle beneath her, her hips bobbing up and down.

“Why d-don’t we get you off y-your feet hun.” Rachel stuttered, trying not to give away her own contraction that was ripping its way through her body. “If you don’t want to sit… mmnnh.. let’s get you on your knees and you can lean against a ch-chair.”

“Nhhh- okay…” Emily whimpered.

Steph pulled over a chair and helped Emily to kneel down and brace against it. With her forearms resting on the seat cushion and her face buried into the crook of her elbow, Emily rocked her hips back and forth, following her body’s instincts to open up for the approaching delivery.

With Emily occupied, Rachel steadied herself by gripping the table in Emily’s vacated space. This contraction was relentless, squeezing and tightening her bump with a worrying amount of force, the pressure of her baby’s head against her cervix forever mounting. Hiding her pained expression, she turned away from the group pressing her face into her shoulder. She couldn’t stop the grunt in her throat as her body worked with the building pressure, bringing the baby lower and lower.

“How are you holding up?” Eve whispered to her.

“Oooooohhh- I think we’re gonna need that ambulance for more than just Emily…” Rachel admitted to her friend while the others were busy looking after her wife.

“Shit… you’re like properly in labour then?”

“Mmh- my waters broke in the toilets… b-before you came to g-get me…”

“Rachel! Why didn’t you say?” Eve scolded in a sharp whisper.

“It’ll be fine. The ambulance will be here before we know it... w-with paramedics and everything they’d need to d-deliver two b-b-babies.”

“OOOHHHHHH RACHEL!” Emily suddenly cried, bringing Eve and Rachel out of their hushed conversation.

Rachel waddled over, her gait widening every minute, towards her kneeling and groaning wife. “Hey darling, you okay? What are you feeling?” She asked, rubbing her back.

“I- I think- oohhhhh fuck… I think I need to push…” Emily mewled, and Rachel’s heart plummeted to her feet.

“Okay… okay… erm… hooo- just hold on a second. I need to check to see if you’re fully-”

“Mnnnnghhhh-pushingggg!” Emily growled, her spine curved as her body pushed whether she wanted to or not.

“Oh my god, what do we do?” Steph asked, crouching next to Emily.

“We’ll err… need towels, oh and a first aid kit.” Rachel instructed, trying to focus on the immediate task at hand and ignoring the near-constant seizing of her own womb.

“I’m on it.” Adrienne disappeared out the room.

“Listen to me Em,” Rachel said softly but firmly, “if your body’s telling you to push, you can push, but only with the contractions. Okay.”

“Rachel, are you seriously going to-” Eve tried to say before Rachel interrupted.

“The ambulance isn’t going to make it, Eve. She’s pushing already. I’m going to have to deliver the baby after all.”

“But you’re-”

“I’ll be fine. Emily needs me right now.” Rachel said with confidence she didn’t have. Please wait a little bit longer, she pleaded to the child in her womb. I know you want to meet your other mum and sister, but just hold on.

Emily grunted and lowed, bearing down hard. Rachel awkwardly got down on her knees behind her labouring wife. Her own belly hung so low on her hips, her baby’s head so deep in her birth canal, that her thighs were forced apart when she sat back on her heels.

“You’re doing brilliant Em, push with the contractions. Are you happy here or did you want to move?”

“Ooffhhhhhhh-want-to-move-hhhfff! Need-to-sit-mnnnghhh-down!”

“That’s fine, we can move you. When this contraction is over, we’ll get you in a different position. Steph, can y-you help h-h-her?”

Rachel subtly circled her hips that were being stretched further and further apart with every passing second. There was so much pressure she could cry. But she had to focus on Emily right now.

Adrienne came back with towels and a small first aid kit from the bar staff, while Steph helped Emily move to sit up on the chair.

“Ohhhhhh I can’t believe I’m having our baby here! Mnnnhhhh” Emily cried, cradling her bump, legs wide apart over the sides of the seat.

“I know honey. It’s not the best location, no, but it’s okay. The ambulance is on its way, and I can deliver our baby just like we p-planned. We can do this. You can do this.” Rachel gave Emily’s leg a light comforting squeeze of encouragement. Kneeling at her wife’s feet, Rachel unwrapped the towel and first aid kit and prepared herself to deliver their baby.

“Hoooo-hoooo… we can do this, we can do this...” Emily repeated, trying to keep herself calm.

“Okay, now on the next con-contraction… ohhhh… on the next contraction I need you to… to…. mmmnnnghhh” Rachel was cut off by a sudden fierce contraction of her own. It was too much; the baby was too low, the pressure too strong - stealing the words from her mouth and distracting her focus. Forced to brace her knees and lift her hips, Rachel emitted a long and deep groan. Her body was crying out for something… she needed to do - something… she needed to… needed to… push. Rachel panted heavily, fighting the urge. This baby had to wait, it just had to. She needed to help Emily deliver, there was no one else that could.

“Rachel!?” Emily cried, “What’s wrong- are you… oh my god are you in labour!!??”

Eve knelt down next to her friend “Breathe Rachel, just breathe through it. That’s it. Are you still okay to do this?”

Rachel couldn’t respond but nodded her head, letting out a long and shaky exhale.

“You can’t be in labour too - who’s going to deliver my baby?” The white’s around Emily’s eyes gave away her sheer panic as she panted heavily and rocked in the chair.

“I- I will…” Rachel breathed, the peak of the contraction finally releasing its hold and with it the pressure eased just enough for her to get a hold of herself. “It’s fine darling. Yes, I am in labour, but… hooooo- the contractions are far enough apart… I c-can still help deliver your baby…”

“Rach!” Eve cautioned, then lowered her tone so only Rachel could hear “Your contractions are no further apart than hers and you know it.”

“We don’t have much of a choice.” Rachel gritted out quietly. “The ambulance isn’t going to make it in time-”

Their conversation was interrupted again by the animalistic sound of Emily pushing. “MNNGGHHH - baby- coming- outttttt-!”

Instinctively Rachel shuffled closer to her wife, widening Emily’s legs further apart and lifting her dress to see her progress.

“That’s it Emily. That was a really good push. Good girl. And again, push.” Rachel encouraged, seeing the sliver of their baby start to appear.

“Can I keep going?” Emily panted, slouched in the chair and gripping her thighs tight.

“If you’ve still got a contraction - yes. Keep going! Push!”

“Push Emily!” Their friends encouraged. “Push! Push!!”

While her wife brought one of their baby girls closer to the world, another contraction struck Rachel like blaze of lightning. Every muscle in her body was squeezing the baby down down down, its head was right there, her body screaming at her to aid its effort in birthing the baby. Hearing the constant yells to ‘push’ from their friends, the grunting sounds of her wife, the visual in front of her of a baby slowly crowning - it all activated a primal instinct that she just couldn’t control. As hard as she tried, Rachel simply couldn’t stop herself from pushing.

Thankfully no one noticed, all the focus was on Emily. No one noticed Rachel’s thighs widening apart, or the subtle lifting of her hips. Whenever her wife pushed, Rachel did too. The couple were perfectly in sync, together bringing their children into the world. Rachel’s mouth was clamped shut with the strain, muffling any involuntary sounds she might have made. Thankfully the music from the bar and Emily’s screaming was loud enough anyway to hide any audible evidence of her own advancing birth.

Her wife pushed again and even more of the head came forward - it was fast approaching a full crown. Despite her own body contracting and pushing, Rachel reacted quickly cupping a hand over the emerging head between Emily’s legs.

“T-t-take it e-easy now Emily- hoooo- pant if you can… breathe the b-baby d-down-nnghhh!” Rachel strained out instructions to her wife, trying not to push while she spoke.

“Hooohooo-hooohooo” Emily panted, tears running down her cheeks with the pain of her stretching.

“Amazing… hoooo…. Oh darling you’re doing b-brilliantly. Her head’s coming… so close…nearly there… Keep p-panting.” Rachel supported the emerging head as it inched further and further; the eyes, the nose, the ears, all slipping into this world and then with a pop the head was fully born into Rachel’s hand.

Emily released a cry of relief.

Then, with the timing of a soap opera, Rachel was wracked with another angry contraction and this one meant business. There was no fighting it, no holding back - her baby wanted to be born. With her hands still supporting Emily’s babe Rachel took a deep breath, her knees widening and hips sinking, and she pushed. Hard.

“…Rach?” Eve’s voice sounded so far away. Rachel was only aware of the baby in her hands and the baby between her legs. Nothing else registered to her.

She could feel herself being stretched, the head slowly peeking out into her underwear. No! You have to wait, she pleaded with her baby but her body had other ideas. Thankfully the contraction soon peaked, the urgency fading, allowing her to think clearly again. But her baby was close, dangerously so.

“Hoooo-ooooh- okay. Well done Emily. You’ve done the w-worst bit.” Rachel's heavy breaths were undeniable, trying to make it through the pain of her baby trying to crown, but she persevered - she needed to help her wife deliver this baby. “Next- step, oooh that’s it, the baby’s turning. Ok, you’re ready to deliver the shoulders now hun. On the next contraction you need to give me a big push… okay?”

Emily was sweating, her makeup smudged and her cheeks flushed. She nodded, took a deep breath and beared down. “MNNNNGGGHHHH!!!!!!”

“Keep going- keep going!” Rachel encouraged.

Emily released the push with a sob. “I can’t… I can’t do it…”

“Yes, you c-can.” Rachel said, gritting her teeth as she felt another contraction rising.

“I can’t…. It hurts… I don’t want to have my baby h-here… I want to be at h-home…”

Rachel’s own contraction was burning through her very soul. Her body was pushing without her active participation, the baby stretching her more and more every passing second. She tried to hold on, not to push, but her hips were starting to tremble and her underwear beginning to bulge. Her baby wanted out, and it wanted out now.

“You have to p-pushh Emily… hoooohooo I-I-I need- y-you to p-p-push…” Rachel’s teeth were grinding, she could barely get the words out.

“I c-can’t.” She sobbed, trembling.

“Emily… please…” Rachel pleaded with a whimper. “You-have-to…p-p-push!!! MNNNGGGHH!” Rachel cried as her body pushed despite herself, her baby reaching a full crown and beyond into her clothing.

Emily watched Rachel grunt and strain on the floor in front of her; she was pushing! And all the while her incredible wife was still carefully holding the head of Emily’s half-born baby in between her thighs. Filled with determination, Emily took a deep breath and pushed with everything that she had.

One shoulder, then then next, and a second later Rachel and Emily’s first born daughter entered the world. Rachel lifted the squalling infant and hastily placed her into Emily’s chest. The next one was coming, and it was coming now!

Rachel got up on her knees and frantically scrambled to pull down her trousers. Their friends looked on, confused and panicked. When her hips were free from the confines of her clothing, Rachel put a trembling hand between her legs and felt the significant dome of her baby’s fully crowned head.

“Oh my god Rachel!” Emily gasped.

The midwife was not capable of speech, instead letting out an urgent primal sound as she immediately birthed the head directly into her hand. With the head delivered, Rachel could breathe again, could think again.

“Hooo-hooo… so…Emily… are you ready to m-meet your other d-daughter?” Rachel breathed, smiling at her wife and newborn daughter, cupping the head of its sibling.

“You are… beyond incredible.” Emily smiled in awe of her beautiful wife. “Yes, let’s complete our family.”

And with that Rachel pushed on the next contraction, catching in her hands their second baby girl. Born 3 minutes after her sister.

[yuansie]

the greatest gamble of all

pairing. aventurine x gn! nameless! reader

synopsis. aventurine knows that he is unworthy of love, unworthy of you. because he, aventurine, is a tainted person and kakavasha is but a person with no future for himself. in both of his names, he is unworthy of you.

genres/aus. actually idek what type of au this would fall under saurrr idk what to say ummm friends to something more (?!), romance, pining, angst with a happy ending, smidge of fluff at the end

warnings. slight (or maybe not so slight at all?) spoilers about aventurine's background, mentions of death and murder, very sad and insecure aventurine, crying, slight displays of affection (a neck kiss?!), ooc aventurine ?! (bc im still doing the penacony quest HAHSHAJ)

wc. 1.6k

a/n. me when i only write about aventurine because aventurine is love, aventurine is life. also, i just have some serious brainrot for that man he deserves everything and more i love him sm !!!! also. aventurine this wednesday im SOOOO excited i need him NOW. will be skipping my first class so i can do his trial LMFAO and this NAWT edited !! (when will i ever edit something?? idk. whenever i am not a busy uni kid) the aventurine art was made by @/20231102thu on x (twitter) !!

AVENTURINE IS FULLY AWARE THAT HE ISN'T SOMEONE DESERVING OF, well, anything. he’s just someone that aimlessly wanders this world, not having a set destination. he doesn’t have anything worth living for.  he doesn’t have a home to return to because home means returning to a place filled with warmth and love. 

he does not remember the last time he felt his heart warm up, he’s not even sure if he’s even felt warmth. it is but a distant memory filled with sadness, such sorrow that makes his heart weep without knowing it. though, nowadays, he doesn’t feel like that. there’s just an emptiness in him, but he doesn’t mind it anymore. after the events at penacony, he’s just been… lost.

he hears a door open and slide shut, followed by the sound of footsteps. then, he senses someone standing right next to him as he gazes out the windows of the astral express. you spent a long time convincing the conductor and himeko that aventurine should be a guest, and you finally wore them out with your pleading after a good amount of hours. 

“penny for your thoughts?”

aventurine glances at you. your wounds from the battle are still healing, he notes, given by the bandages that wrap around your forearm and head. sunday will have to meet his fury on another day. “just thinking that this is a nice place.”

you chuckle, “it is, isn’t it?”

all he does is hum in response, still staring out in the vast expanse of space. he likes how the stars look and as his eyes linger on penacony, he wonders if his home looked similar to that. he wouldn't know because he never saw how it looked when he left and never will. his thoughts don’t linger on that much when he instead focuses on the way your fingers brush against his hand. he flinches and stares wide-eyed at how you easily grab onto his hand, a dirty piece of flesh undeserving of the warmth that radiates from your skin and seeps into his own.

“aventurine—”

“kakavasha.”

“hm?” you tilt your head to the side, blinking at him in confusion.

he wants to look away from you, from your eyes. but he wills himself to keep looking and somehow, he ends up gripping onto your hand tightly. you don't complain and instead squeeze back, patiently waiting for him to continue.

“my name is… kakavasha.” aventurine feels his stomach twist and turn at your silence so he continues to speak, “i just thought… that you should know it before it’s completely gone.”

“and why do you say that?”

“it’s a name meant to be forgotten in the sand.”

your response is so quick that it almost gives him whiplash. “no it isn't.”

“excuse me?” he blurts out, surprised that you even said such a thing about him.

“it isn't a name meant to be forgotten in the sand,” you say, a certain calmness in your voice that has aventurine waiting with bated breath at what else you have to say. “it's too pretty to be forgotten and, well, it's your name.” 

and then he feels his face heat up; his ears, neck and cheeks feel like they’re burning up.

“kakavasha,” you hum, smiling, “kava, for short. it has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?”

it does have a nice ring to it, but only because you're the one saying it. aventurine merely nods, not trusting his voice at the moment. he looks away and stares outside the window, not wanting to look at you anymore because he fears this warm feeling will take over his entire being.

a nice silence blankets over the two of you, one that you break after a while.

“what’s the story behind your name right now? aventurine… why are you called that now?”

“because kakavasha had no future,” he replies, “kakavasha didn’t have a future, he didn’t deserve to live either. who i am now, aventurine, does.”

“kakavasha deserves to live too.” aventurine turns his body to look at you, blinking in surprise. “i don’t know how you got that thought in your head, but kakavasha deserves to live just as much as the person you are now.”

“but aventurine is tainted. this name has too much blood on it, too many sins on it. the person i am now doesn’t deserve to live either. kakavasha should be a name buried in the sands of time while aventurine should be burnt to a crisp for the things i’ve done.”

yes, he is tainted. his body, his everything is tainted. it is marred by an ugly color, a stain of who he was and is, never to be cleaned. aventurine lets go of your hands, worried that you might also get stained by his sins. he should drive you away now before the aching in his small heart decides to cling to you and the warmth you give him. he will tell you his story, tell you about the mark on his neck, tell you how he killed the man that bought him, tell you about how he is a tainted person. he is a tainted person unworthy of you, unworthy of that love you hold.

he may have never experienced love. after all, all of his past relationships were purely physical. no one cared about going deeper beyond his facade, they all just wanted a fun night. so while he has never experienced it, he is no fool. he can recognize that the emotion in your pretty eyes when you look at him is love. you love aventurine, the him who has betrayed and used you and your companions in one way or another on penacony. he doesn’t understand why and maybe he never will because the mere fact that you feel something towards him is so bizarre.

so he should ruin whatever it is that you love about him and tell you the truth, taint your rose-colored view on him. aventurine needs to do it now before his heart tells him not to. he knows his heart is already lovesick, so needy of that bit of love it has received from you. his heart wants to hold on tightly to you and drown in you, drown in those feelings of yours. his tiny heart wants to love you too, it wants to love you just as much as you love him. he wants your everything to consume his entire being.

but after he tells you the truth, you will leave and you will be the first and last person he’s loved. you will be the first and last person to somehow climb over the tall walls he’s built around himself and crack open the facade he’s made.

but what if… what if you stay after everything? what will happen then?

it is that small hope that he ends up clinging to.

if he is blessed gaiathra, if he is lucky, then what if… what if this is his greatest gamble of all? a gamble of love: will he lose you or will you stay?

aventurine has made up his mind despite the rational part in him telling him to not even do it, yet he does. the words flow out of his mouth easily, though his heart weighs heavy in his chest. he expects to you leave, he really does because who would want someone as ugly as him? but the tears that leaves your eyes and roll down your cheeks catches him completely off guard.

“why are you crying?” he asks, his hands reaching out to hold your arms.

your lips quiver and a hand grabs onto one of his while the other reaches out, fingers stopping before they touch his neck. aventurine leans in without thinking and a shiver goes up his spine when your fingertips gently graze the marks on his neck. you rub over the marks, “you didn’t deserve any of that, kakavasha.”

“if i could, i would take this from you and any pain you’ve felt and will feel. i would take away all of the unpleasant memories that plague your mind. for you, i would do anything.” 

his knees buckle at your words and you both tumble down to the ground; he ends up being on top of you. your eyes widen when aventurine’s own tears begin to rain down, some falling onto your cheek.

“why would you say something so cruel to me?” he mutters. “don’t give me false hope. you should leave now before you do it in the future.”

“why should i leave the man that i love?” you purse your lips, your eyebrows furrowing.

aventurine shoves his head into the crook of your neck. “i am undeserving of you. i’m lesser than everyone in all of these galaxies.”

“you are not lesser than everyone,” you grumble, raking your hand through his blond hair. “everyone is the same because at the end of the day, we all want to love and to be loved.”

“i’m afraid i won’t be able to leave you now.” he hears you laugh softly, saying how his eyelashes are tickling you. he decides to get impossibly closer to you and bat his eyelashes more, smiling at the sound of your laughter growing in volume. “you’re stuck with me, so don’t say i didn’t warn you.”

aventurine’s breath gets stuck in his throat. he feels your lips brush against his neck. “i think the one who should be saying that is me… say, promise me you won’t leave?”

“shouldn’t i be saying that?”

“kava, promise me.”

“i promise. will you promise the same thing too?”

“yes, i promise that i won’t leave you.”

kakavasha, a name forgotten in the sand, was dug up and remembered, held in the hands of someone that treats like the most precious thing. kakavasha, who had forgotten how it felt to love and be loved, remembered the feeling because of a single person.

and kakavasha, blessed by gaiathra, won his greatest gamble of all time. he won you and your love, something he will now protect and hold onto tightly.

[blues824]

Hi there! How do you do? Could I request the Octavinelle trio with a female s/o that's a mermaid version of their greatest enemy? For example, Azul's s/o is a shark mermaid.

So, actually, electric eels don’t have any predators aside from themselves, so Reader will just be an electric eel mermaid!

Azul Ashengrotto

You were a Great White shark mermaid, and you were visiting NRC for a special event from an all-girls college for a collaboration of some sort, and you were hosted by Octavinelle for the time being. Your first meeting with Azul went… strangely.

Now, you were no skinny woman. You were buff, and your teeth were sharp… and you were tall as well. He wanted you as his bouncer, and he even offered to pay you a salary. However, you refused and said that it wouldn’t make sense since you usually need to work a certain amount of time before earning that much.

Curse you for being so intelligent.

However, as you both spent more and more time together, you both realized that maybe opposites do attract. For example, Azul told you about his insecurities about his weight and you reassured him that having a bit of flubber usually made the whale taste better (you then had to tell him that you were joking).

Anyway… you showed him the type of workouts you did to make you so buff. He nearly died of exhaustion and a heart attack because he had never worked out so hard in his life. You had to carry him to his dormitory… and that was when he realized he never had a girl in his room before.

When you had to return back to your school, you exchanged numbers so that you could keep in touch. The tweels noticed that their boss was nearly always on his phone, and your girlfriends noticed you were always on yours. Young love, I suppose.

Jade Leech

You were a fellow Electric Eel mermaid, and you were invited as a member of a select group of girls from a school like NRC as a collaborative event. Since you were a mermaid, you were put into Octavinelle, and Azul assigned Jade as your guide.

That was how you both realized that you were very much alike. You enjoyed morning hikes, you enjoyed nature… but you were not fond of mushrooms. No, you took an interest in birds. You had a different class schedule than him, since you were a year younger, but he surprised you at the end of your classes with a small keychain of a crochet bluejay that he kind of intimidated an NRC student to give to him.

This, in turn, led you to get very excited and give him a kiss on the cheek as payment. However, he was not sure that one was quite enough.

Needless to say, by the end of the five-minute exchange, he had lipgloss marks all over his face, save for his lips. It didn’t matter to him, though, since his pearl was clearly excited and happy about something that he did for her.

On a free Tuesday afternoon, you were both in his dorm room, the door open, and he was showing you how to make a terrarium.

When you had to leave, you both were fairly sad about it, but you gave him a keychain in return, and it had your name and number engraved on the back. It was a mushroom keychain, so he appreciated it, and he made sure to save your number. His first girlfriend… he needed to tell his mother and father soon.

Floyd Leech

When he heard that girls would be coming to NRC, he was totally doing the “they’re going to bring cooties over here” stuff. However, when he saw you, his opinion changed so quickly. He was instantly trying to chat you up, especially in Octavinelle’s pool when he found out you were an eel like him.

You both were emotional rollercoasters, but you were a lot kinder. Also, instead of getting angry, frustrated, or annoyed, you just became sad. So, he would always bring you a free meal from the Mostro Lounge so that his precious pearl wouldn’t be sad anymore.

I read somewhere that the courting ritual of an eel consists of opening jaws and wrapping their tails around each other. Thus, when Floyd saw you yawn for the first time, he immediately clung onto you. Not that you were complaining, since you always loved cuddles.

Constantly, Azul and Jade noticed that you smelled like Floyd’s cologne, but neither of them said anything. After all, you were happily and willingly taking Floyd off of everyone’s hands.

That all aside, Floyd does genuinely care about you. He invites you to each of his games, and his teammates are more than happy for you to be there since you encourage him to play his best. He’s one of the tallest on the team, so they definitely need him focused. Besides, you were happy to spend time with your new ‘boyfriend’.

Soon, however, it was time for you to head back to your school, and you gave him your number as well as a kiss before hopping on the bus. Floyd was pouty all day until Jade reminded him of your number, and you were more than happy to receive a text from your mans.

[bacchicly]

A few imperfect thoughts about writing fat characters respectfully

By me :

A short (5'2"), fat (approx 300 pounds), middle aged (turning 42 thank god), married to not a fat man, mother of a pre-teen, white, CIS, Anglo, Canadian, upper-middle class woman who writes fic (including smut) about a character who is fat by TV and Hollywood standards (Penelope Garcia)

Note: fat hate or debates about whether being fat is healthy or not will not be tolerated on this post. That is not what this post is about. This is about giving some insight into what writers may want to consider when trying to respectfully include more fat characters in their work and generally moving towards writing doing less harm to fat people.

This post started with me wanting to respond to someone honnestly asking "how do I write good descriptions of fat people" because they wanted to write more fat characters and write them authentically (and I assume in a way that would be respectful to fat people) which is an awesome! ...Or maybe it started a few months ago when a writer friend asked about whether a fat character in a fic borrowing a shirt or hoody from her fit boyfriend made sense. ...Or maybe it started way back when I started writing my first fan fic featuring Penelope Garcia partly in response to being irritated about how so many writers wrote her as a young woman and were often silent on her size or spent a lot of time on her insecurities about her body... anyhoo that's where I come from... doesn't make me an expert except maybe on my own unique experience with a fat body...rather more a fellow muddler / fat character writer enthusiast.

THE BASICS

This first part is a quick list of basics you'll read in other posts about writing characters in general - but we'd better get them out of the way because they apply:

Every character is unique and they way they act and think and feel tends to be a product of some mix of what they look like, how their body works or doesn't, how their brain works and doesn't, their "personality", what they were taught, their unique experiences, and the situation/society they are currently in. There are patterns (which is why we get tropes) but the fun thing is that small things can make big differences. So to write an authentic character, it helps to have a fairly clear sense of at least some of those elements and do some imagining about how all of that would funnel into the moment your writing.

The amount to which you describe character bodies and the style which you use to describe them tends to depend on genre, what the heck is going on in your story, the pov you're writing from, the reason you're writing etc. So their are no hard or fast rules. There may be norms for certain styles of fiction, but then it's up to you to decide if it's stronger for you to lean into those norms or to write "against" them at a particular moment.

In order to be more respectful and less harmful to fat people (especially if you see value in actively challenging the anti-fat status quo), you may have to change how you describe all bodies in your work, as well the attitudes both fat people and non fat people have about bodies in general.

Now that that's out of the way... let's get specifically to my thoughts on writing fat characters. I'm going to divide this part into tips for DESCRIBING FAT BODIES, FAT BODIES IN SPACE, and THINKING AND FEELING IN A FAT BODY.

TIPS FOR DESCRIBING FAT (OR OTHER) BODIES

I would say that both consistency and diversity across the work is important, by this I mean :

Consistently describe bodies in about the same amount of detail across your work for the same type of character regardless of body type. So protagonists should get about the same depth and breath of body descriptions as each other regardless of body type. Same goes for vilalns, supporting characters etc. Sometimes people are mute about the look and shape of "strait sized" character bodies (because what's to describe - they are just "normal") but then spend a bunch of time on "other sized" bodies or vice versa (in this case, the fat body is erased usually because of some form of internalised fat hate or phobia paired with "if you can't say anything nice" don't say anything at all.) If you're doing either of these things, I'm not saying it's wrong and has to be fixed- I'm just saying it's a flag that you may want to think about why you are writing differently about different body types and what your work is saying about what bodies have value and which don't.

Diversity Bodies in the real world come in a lot of different shapes and sizes (I know I know obvious woman strikes again) but if you are writing stories with fairly large casts and everyone has the same body type - there better be a good reason for it within the narrative. Truthfully there are cases where this does make sense to some degree... if you're writing about a group where there are physical requirements and standards for the folks in that world (ballet dancers, fire fighters, cops, soldiers, fbi agents) there may or may not be less diversity in body type and more homogeneous attitudes to body norms within the group - and certainly those who are outside of the norm may be commented on or feel like they are "other". But if you are in a more free setting - if you write without a diversity of body types - especially in settings where there is diversity - that is probably a clue that you're not thinking enough about what your various characters look like and may be "normalizing" one type of body over others. Similarly, if you are writing about a real time and place where there is evidence that there were fat bodies and you have none...that's another flag to ask yourself why.

The magical tools in your toolkit for describing fat and other bodies: Body neutrality and POV

Body neutrality is about not loving bodies and not hating bodies just accepting bodies as they are....or in this case describing them as they are. No poetic language. No judgement. Just this is what this character looks like. If you're struggling to do this, I suggest doing a body map for at least two characters with different body types - possibly one that you find easy to think of positively (in this case likely someone thin or at least fit) and one that you find more difficult to describe positively (in this case someone fat).

Describe them head to toe, naked and then clothed, in detail - acurately but not poetically. Start with their feet and then work up bit by bit. Pay attention to things like hair, scars, shape of joints, acne, tightness or looseness of skin, colour of skin, nails, fat, lack of fat, muscle tone, where do they hold their stress, what's in the bowels, how well they do or don't work, do they have their appendix, what they ate last, proportions (is their torso long or short compared to their legs), lungs - how much do they hold, are they healthy? - now describe their throat, shoulders, hands, hair, then end with face.

The only rule is no positive or negative connotations to anything. it's neither good nor bad that they have stretch marks - they just do and they have faded to silver. Now that you "see them' clearly - now look at them through the eyes of someone who loves them in a familial way...what do they see most? what words do they use? now through someone who is attracted to them sexually and love them and aren't ashamed...what do they see most? what words do they use? Now through the eyes of someone who hates them or wants to change them? or a child? or a dog? Now... how does your character feel about these descriptions? Now you have a variety of words you can draw on to describe the body and you also should have a fairly good idea of what is a more skewed view of the body and a more realistic view.

Also...it can be helpful to remember there are no consistently good or bad words to describe bodies - it depends on context and who is using the words. It's a lot like how sick can be used to describe something negatively or positively depending on the agreed upon meaning of the word by a group.

DESCRIBING BODIES IN SPACE/MOTION

Ok here's the thing - for every activity you can think of - there is a fat body that does it well and a fat body that can't do it easily or at all and there are a lot of reasons for both. Often it has to do with the fact that a lot of equipment is built for people who are 250lbs or less; and anything for bigger people tends to cost a premium. Also, if it's not an easy new skill to acquire with the body you've got...it may take longer and more bravery to keep pushing through to achieve mastery. People may try to discourage you from pursuing things. Sometimes out of prejudice, sometimes out of impatience, sometimes out of caring.

So deciding what your character's body can do easily and what it can't and why is more important than me giving you a list of words for how to describe fat movements.

My suggestion is: do your research. What sorts of body types have done the activity in the real world? What are the exceptions? What changes? So for example if a fat person is climbing a mountain - do they need more help? Different equipment? A different route?

Things to consider:

- equipment / things that can have weight limits: bunk beds, roller coasters, scooters, waterslides, camping chairs, elevators, trampolines, some bikes, life jackets (finding one that fit was a nightmare), exercise balls, airline seats (learning to ask for the seatbelt extender without second thought or shame was a lifesaver)

- not all fat people have pain, those who do will move taking into account the specifics of the pain - same as a lean person

- when I was pregnant I just got more cylindrical and did not get a classic belly. I moved well and easily all the way through my pregnancy, I had none of the back pain or ankle pain some people get. I stood for a lot of my labour. I gave birth on my hands and knees. Other fat people will have had different experiences of pregnancy...but that was mine.

- clothing can have a huge impact on what bounces or jiggles and what doesn't

- most (but not all) fat people I know are particularly sensitive to appearing sweaty or smelling bad

- how winded someone gets is not directly correlated to body size, neither is heart rate or breathing style; I have theatre training and grew up swimming - I breath very slowly and very deeply normally - so when I talk a slow deep breath...it is very slow and deep indeed. I have always been fat but can swim forever - I have always gotten winded and kind of dizzy running... Other fat people may be opposite.

- people do not "see fat" consistently. People regularly underestimate how fat I am (by 100+ pounds or many clothing sizes) because I am short, well spoken, proportioned in a way that is seen as fairly typical, and very mobile and very light on my feet. Someone who weighs less than me but is slower moving, dull witted, in a sour mood, is illl, or poorly dressed may be perceived as much heavier than than someone the same weight or heavier who is behaving/clothed differently (which can change how much fat hate someone experiences) and definately heavier than they are. Height also changes how people perceive weight.

- many stores still don't carry plus sized clothing, but eventually i sort of got used to it - although some days it makes me angry and other days sad

- chairs with arms or the occasional booth can be uncomfortable or just plain impossible to sit in, it's probably partly my ADHD but I often forget this until it happens; for taller and fatter people than me this can be a much more regular occurrence.

- once (if) a character figures out how to dress/move their body in a way that feels comfortable and meets general standards (or at least theirs) of respectability - they may not think that much about their body...or at least until something external draws attention to it

- I don't like feeling like I'm squishing people, so I will make myself small and still on buses or at the theatre, I also don't like sitting on laps or being lifted or carried.

- I often feel much taller than I actually am - except when I am standing right beside someone taller or am trying to reach something on a high shelf. The same principle applies - I feel larger next to smaller people and smaller next to larger ones.

- clothing and what I'm carrying also changes how I move (just like my lean counterparts)

- I don't lounge, my car seat is set almost straight but I sit further back than my brother in law who has a similar height and weight - he leans the seat back but pulls closer. I don't nap. My leaner husband both lounges and naps.

- some fat folks eat, walk, and move quickly - some slowly; figuring out which your character does, when they behave "out of character", and why these are their preferences will go a long way to creating an authentic feeling fat character

- acne is a thing and learning to accept ones rolls and tummy aprons (and thus take care of them properly) is a common challenge; although many do it naturally without thinking much of it. You lift your breasts and wash underneath - you lift you belly and wash underneath.

- fat bodies have the same reactions as everyone else: they tingle, burn, get numb, get goose bumps, like to be touched in certain places and in certain ways, feel the breeze, get hot, get cold, shiver, stretch, relax, get aroused, feel release, hold tension, feel capable and strong, feel weak...no matter who you are sitting in a chair that's too small for you will put pressure on your body and feel uncomfortable or safe ..you can explore what that is like. Sometimes it is a reassuring sensation. Sometimes it is uncomfortable. This is the same for fat bodies. It just may happen more frequently and depending on your character's context and experience the emotional reaction / thoughts that are generated may be a bit different.

THINKING AND FEELING IN A FAT BODY.

I think I touched on some of this in some of the earlier sections...but here I want to talk a bit about my experience of being fat and my thoughts about it - your fat characters may or may not feel similarly...but my hope is that you at least think about options as opposed to only writing one or two types of fat character.

I mainly "feel" fat in moments when it is pointed out to me or I am limited in what I can do because of it

I quite like my body, it is my home and I feel very connected to it's features. In my experience this is unusual for many people in North American society regardless of actual body shape or weight. Sometimes I feel guilty for not hating my body the way "I am supposed to" and wonder vaguely if my body would be different if I could hate it more (although as I get older I doubt it).

I do feel some pressure to be a cheerful "good" fat person as a way to stay safe and survive.

Nothing makes people more uncomfortable than me calling myself fat without judgement or asking for accomodation matter of factly. It took me a long time to feel comfortable doing so, but I do it now all the time and it makes my life better.

I felt some pressure to be the fun friend who people feel comfortable eating whatever they wanted with and I often felt like I was depended on to order dessert so they could too. This may have been all in my mind though.

Fat bellies can be very intimate places.

Not all fat people have dieted, but many have. I was lucky enough to never be forced into a diet. I did try keto once but it was a bit intense and nuts so I stopped. I learned a bunch doing it though.

Medical people not treating you appropriately when your fat is 100% a thing.

Internalised fat hate and fat phobia is a thing for many fat people and it pops up at weird moments.

I don 't.give a damn about being in a bathing suit. As long as it fits and my boobs and butt.aren't.falling out - I am happy and feel very attractive. In fact I am probably at my most comfortable in a bathing suit or naked. My body is mine in both those instances.

To reach the "healthy weight" for my height - I would have to lose half of my body mass. That is a lot of me to loose. Embarking on something like that would be totally different than loosing 5 or 10 pounds. Trying to navigate the various medical opinions about whether being fat is bad or not is exhausting.

For me, being fat and older is easier than being fat and younger. This could easily be the opposite for someone else.

Some fat people are into sex, some are not . Some folks are into sex with fat people and some are not. Some are nice about it. Some are not. Some want nice. Some do not.

Fat people are all around you living their best life or their worst life or somewhere in between. We know we are fat. We sometimes care and sometimes don't.

Ok that's it. I don't know if it will help anyone or if it's just a collection of rambles - but at the end of the day...fat people are just people. We are not going to go away. We are all sorts. We are the heroes of our own stories. We are people who are loved, depended on, hated, ignored, and/or spotlighted.

Some fat people think about being fat all the time. Some rarely. Just please don't erase us or other us.

Just by taking the step to interrogate your own biases and any feelings / assumptions you have about fatness/thinness is a huge step and will help limit the harm you could unintentionally do to fat people...actually to all people. Like all forms of hate and intelorance - Fat hate hurts EVERYONE. I would argue it privileges a few...but even that can be excruciating for the individuals who strive to retain that priviledge. We need to dismantle it.

[strangemaleswaps]

Strange Roommate Swap

I started walking back to my dorm from the last class of the day. It was my second year of college and there was no doubt autumn was coming up fast with the amount of people wearing jackets outside. I was way ahead of them, as I was desperate for the weather to get colder so I could wear my leather jacket. I felt really cool with it on, even though I wasn't really a cool guy. I was kinda sensitive and geekish, but hey, if I can look the part then maybe people will think of me as cool.

I arrived at the dorm building, walked inside, and took the elevator to get to the 6th floor where my room was. I opened the door to find my roommate, Nathan, on his PC as usual. He was a pretty big guy, at least bigger than me. I've seen his clothing sizes from when his shirts were lying on the floor, and he wore size XL, and sometimes 2XL. But even though I was gay and we were roommates, he wasn't really my type.

When Nathan noticed me, he immediately got up and started heading towards the bathroom. We were the type of roommates that rarely spoke to each other, unless it was something chore related. We should've been friends because we both spent most of our freetime online, but I guess we're both too shy. But still, I wondered what was up so I broke the silence.

“Hey what's up?” I said.

“I got a date. I told myself I'd start to get ready around the time you got back.”

“Oh nice!” Woah, he didn't seem like the type anybody would be attracted to, but I guess there were plenty of fish in the sea. He grabbed some clothes and closed the bathroom door, so I began working on my homework. After awhile he walked back out in a shirt and tie, with his beard neatly trimmed.

“Looking good,” I blurted out. He didn't seem to care how awkward I sounded because he smiled.

“Thanks man.”

He did his hair a bit and was out the door in a flash. I wondered who he was going on a date with?

A few hours later I was doing homework on my bed when the door opened and Nathan walked in. He didn't look too happy so I'm guessing the date didn't go too well. Since I didn't know much about his personal life, I didn't want to say a word in case he was the type to lash out at others. So I just continued what I was doing.

He began taking off his formal clothes. Nathan was the type of guy that wasn't shy with undressing in front of people. The sight of him shirtless wasn't the prettiest sight though. When he untucked his shirt, his belly flopped back down, hanging over his belt.

People always warned me about eating habits in college and most get that Freshman 15, but from what I've seen with old photos of Nathan, he went way beyond 15. He was as skinny as I was now on some of his socials, so he must've really let himself go. Good thing I had a fast metabolism; I hadn't gained a pound since I got to college.

He didn't take off the rest of his clothes; he just plopped down onto his chair, turned on his PC, and started gaming. I finished up my homework and decided to do the same, opening up my laptop and spending the rest of the night online until I was ready to take my contacts out and head to bed.

The next morning I woke up to my alarm, that for some reason sounded much further away. I opened my eyes to find it actually wasn't next to me at all…and for some reason I was in Nathan's bed? I looked to the other side of the room and saw a lump in my bed - a sign that someone was underneath the covers. I reached around to find glasses…although they weren't mine, somehow I could see with them. When I tried to sit up, I found it way more difficult to do so. It felt like gravity was pushing down extra hard. Maybe the sheets were weighing me down? I threw them off to find I was shirtless…and fat! What the fuck! I put my hand over the round lump of flesh to confirm if it was real or not. It was soft to the touch and felt kinda squishy. I also had a good amount of chest hair, which was something I wasn't used to, being a hairless twink. But I definitely wasn't a twink anymore!

I got up off the bed and could feel my entire body jiggle. I looked down at my belly and although it was harder to see with my big gut in the way, I noticed I was wearing blue shorts - Nathan's blue shorts. Oh god. I began making my way towards the bathroom when the covers started moving from my bed. What must've been Nathan in my body pulled them off himself and stared at me for a few seconds until he found my glasses, put them on, and stared at me again, looking even more confused.

“Brent? What's going on? That IS you right?”

“I-uh don't even know.”

“Why is it like…I'm seeing myself?” He then glanced down at himself and squeezed his shirt… I mean my shirt. He then lifted it up and bit and touched my chest, rubbing his hand around.

“Are we…?”

“Each other…”

“Fuck”

I could tell this must've been as awkward for him as it was for me. “So uh…do you want to do the big reveal?”

“The what?”

“You know. Like in those movies where they both look in the mirror at themselves and scream or whatever.”

“Uh…sure.” He jumped out of bed, and power walked to the bathroom. It was so strange seeing myself walk around, like playing a 3rd person perspective game. Is that what I really looked like? When we got to the mirror, I understood what he meant. It really was like in those movies where they freak out at their new bodies.

It was crazy to gaze straight ahead at the mirror and see someone else's face. It was like wearing a mask or something, but I grazed my hands all over and assured myself that it was all real. I slowly moved my hand to my chest and felt the curves of my…man tits. I was grossed out and pulled my hand away.

“You don't have to do that. I mean it is your body now afterall…er right now anyway.”

It was kinda creepy, the idea of him allowing me to touch his body, especially since it was spoken with my voice. All of a sudden reality set in. I was so focused on how ugly I looked that I completely forgot we had no idea how this happened or how to change back!

“We need to figure this out soon. I have class today!”

“Can't you just skip?”

“No I can't. It's the kind of class that knocks down your grade if you don't attend.”

“Oh shit. Well I could go for you I guess.”

The idea of someone else going around looking like me in public was unsettling but I don't think I had a choice.

“Fine. But hurry up. I don't want to be late.”

Nathan got ready for me, putting on exactly what clothes I told him to wear, which included my leather jacket. Seeing myself from a different perspective made me realize how hot I actually was. I glanced down at my chubby belly as I hoped this curse would end soon. I told Nathan the details of getting to my class and everything, and as he closed the door behind him, I realized that I didn't know what I should do today. He didn't have any classes of his own and I really didn't want to go out in public like this.

I walked back into the bathroom and stared at my fat self as I touched Nathan's belly. I instinctively made my way down towards his dick and felt a bulge forming. Why was this happening? I definitely wasn't turned on by Nathan. Maybe it had something to do with the idea that I was technically grabbing someone else's dick. I didn't want to see his face so I took off my glasses. That way I could kinda see everything else, but not a clear identification. I then grabbed my belly as I stroked my dick and started jerking.

The fat slapped my arm with every movement, but I didn't care. I came all over the floor and after a bit, I got dressed and decided to go outside after all. Surprisingly the idea of walking around as a fat guy in public was turning me on once again. I really didn't even mind Nathan walking around in my body now if it meant I could walk around in his!

[horangare]

daddy dearest

pairing : dilf!jeonghan x collegestudent!reader

content : smut (mdni or else!!)

in which : meeting the father of your project partner and new friend didn’t go how you planned, but hey, you’re not complaining

warnings : age gap (jeonghan is in his early 40s, reader is in their early 20s), reader has female anatomy, cursing, dom/sub dynamics, (kinda? i think?) begging, oral (jh giving), teasing, (dirty talk, praise, degradation) pet names (jeonghan calls reader princess, baby, slut, good girl/reader calls jeonghan sir, mr. yoon), unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap)

wc : 4.6k words

note : omg my first fic on here

part 2

You trudged into your last class of the day, completely exhausted and overwhelmed. The week has been full of nothing but exams, presentations, and essays. Midterms were even worse in college than they were than when you were in high school. Just thinking about it makes you wish you could go back to writing essays that were five-hundred words instead of five pages.

All you wanted to do was get through this class with a simple task, or, maybe if you were lucky, just a lecture along with some note taking. After all, for the past week your professor hasn’t made you write pages upon pages or cram weeks worth of information into your head for a test that he could spring on you at any day.

Unfortunately, luck has never been your best friend.

Your professor beckoned you to his desk where he was organizing various stacks of papers. “Good afternoon [Y/n]. Ah, here, take one of these.” He said, handing you a—somewhat thick—packet. You looked down and flipped through it, slightly dumbfounded with the amount of pages it contained.

“Uh, sir, what is this?” You asked. He chuckled a little and shook his head.

“Your midterm project. The packet contains all the details, now as for your partner…” The man scanned the still somewhat empty lecture hall before his eyes landed on someone sitting in the back. “Ah! You’ll be with the girl back there.”

You turned around, looking to the back to try and find the “girl back there” he was mentioning. Your eyes landed on a girl who you don’t think you be ever seen or talked to before with her attention completely focused on her laptop as she rapidly typed away at her keyboard.

“Um, okay, thanks,” You mumbled to your professor before making your way to the back of the hall and towards your partner. Now that you were close enough, you actually managed to recognize her.

Iseul was always a bit quiet. She always sat in the back of the lecture hall, always typing away on her laptop. She always wore clothes that fit loosely on her and kept her hair in a bun or a ponytail, which would have gotten old if the styles didn’t work so well to show off her gorgeous cheekbones. You wondered who her parents were, because damn those genes had to be strong. When you thought about yourself, the two of you were pretty much complete opposites. You got sat close to the front and talked to anyone that would bother to listen. You dressed up every day and spent careful time on your hair, and wow, you were really getting jealous of those cheekbones.

“Hi,” You greeted her with a friendly smile. “You’re Iseul, right? I’m [Y/n]. We’re supposed to be partners for this project.”

Iseul looked up at you, a faint smile on her face as she nodded. “Uh, yeah. Hi. Oh, sorry, please sit,” she grabbed her bag from the chair next to her and placed it on the ground. You sat down next to her, placing your bag down on the ground in front of you.

“So, have you looked over the project yet? Is it a lot? Please say no…” You asked her, mumbling the last part. By now, she had turned her attention back to her laptop, but she laughed when you asked that. If you were being honest, you didn’t think you could bring yourself to flip through all those pages without breaking down in tears.

“It isn’t too much. Just a powerpoint and a short essay to go along with it. I don’t think it should take too long…” Iseul trailed off, preoccupied with flipping through the packet and typing.

To your surprise, you got along with Iseul better than you thought. She seemed enthusiastic to hear your ideas and responded earnestly, the two of you bouncing your ideas off of each other until you finally came up with something you both agreed on. While she got started on the written portion, you had taken decided on doing the powerpoint. You got along with her so well that when class had ended, you couldn’t stop a pout from forming on your lips.

“Is something wrong?” Iseul asked, a slight look of worry showing on her face. “Is there a problem with the project? Should we revise?”

“No, everything’s fine. I just…” Still pounting, you reached into your bag and pulled out your phone. “I need your number. So that we can keep up with the project and…‘cause we should be friends.”

And in an instant, Iseul’s face brightened, and she nodded. She typed her phone number into your phone and smiled at you. “I’ll..um, text you later. About the project, okay?”

You smiled back, picking up your bag and walking to the door before the two of you went your separate ways. As much as you had enjoyed Iseul and her company today in class, you really couldn’t wait to get back to your dorm to shower and get a little rest before the weekend. Oh, you couldn’t wait for the weekend

Right. You wouldn’t have time to even enjoy it because you would be working on that stupid project. Damn your professor.

The weekend went by in a flash, much to your disappointment, and the last thing you wanted was to return to your classes. Of course, the project for your early childhood development class—which was the class your project was due in—wasnt due until next week, but you had still been dreading it. However, when you got there, you were greeted with an empty classroom.

Confused, you called Iseul, who picked up on the second ring.

“Hey, Iseul, where is everyone? Why’s the class empty?”

“Oh, didn’t you read the email? He said he won’t be there for a while. Something about the stomach flu, and blah blah blah, a bunch of other personal stuff.”

You smiled. Karma was real.

“By the way,” She continued. “I’m staying at my dad’s house this week. Do you think you could come here so we can work on the project today? I’ll send you the address.”

“Sure. I’ll be there soon.”

Iseul was outside before you could even exit your Uber, still in her pajamas and with her hair down instead of up. Now that you were seeing it like this, you were surprised with just how long it was. She greeted you at the door with a smile and led you inside.

You couldn’t stop your mouth from falling open as you took in your surroundings. “Woah, Iseul, you live here? What’s the deal, are your parents like…”

“Parents?” She asked. “No, no, it’s just my dad. And he’s a model, he has been since he was younger.”

This caught your interest.

“Who’s your dad?”

Iseul brought her hand to her mouth, nervously biting on one of her fingernails. “Well, he’s—”

In that moment, one of the doors opened to reveal possibly the most gorgeous man you think you’ve ever seen. He was taller than both you and Iseul, but there was a bigger gap between the two of you as opposed to him and Iseul. His hair cascaded down the sides of his face and down his neck. And he had the same gorgeous cheekbones as Iseul.

So this was where she got it from. Iseul was Yoon Jeonghan’s daughter.

“Ah..hey dad.” Iseul said, pulling her hand away from her mouth. “Oh, this is [Y/n], from school. She’s my partner for that project I was talking about.”

The man nodded at Iseul, shifting his gaze from her over to you. His gaze felt so intense, you couldn’t help but squirm as his eyes looked over you, taking you in.

“Hello Mr. Yoon.” You greeted him with a smile and a short bow, silently wishing he would take his eyes off of you because it was making you more nervous than you would’ve liked. He nodded slowly, looking you over one more time before turning down the hall and disappearing deeper into the house. Iseul grabbed your hand and dragged you to her room.

“Sorry about that, I was about to tell you, but he’s got this habit of just…appearing, so…” Iseul’s apology came out quickly and a bit hushed as she threw herself onto her bed. She sighed. “I should’ve told you earlier.”

“Don’t apologize, it’s really fine.” Iseul was relieved that you didn’t seem as shaken as she thought you would’ve been. With a nod, she smiled at you and patted the space on the bed next to her.

“Okay, we should get to work, we’re almost done with the project.”

With much reluctance, you settled onto the bed next to her and opened your laptop. Iseul may have been your friend, but you wanted nothing more than a break from this project. After this, you never wanted to hear or see the word project ever again.

God, you weren’t sure which you hated more, this project (honestly though, you really did hate this project) or your brain.

As much as you wanted to focus and finish as quickly as you could, you just kept getting distracted with thoughts of Jeonghan. It’s not like you wanted to keep thinking of him, especially when you were just meeting him for the first time, but he was just so much more breathtaking in person than you could have imagined. Those magazines did not do him justice. You got hot just thinking about it—about him.

You couldn’t take it any more. “Iseul, um…where’s the kitchen? I really need some water.”

“Oh, uh,” Iseul sat up, climbing out of the bed and walking to the door, “Right down the hall and then it’s through the first door on the left.”

“Thanks.” You smile before practically running out of her room to the kitchen. With a somewhat shaky hand, you pulled open the fridge and grabbed the closest bottled water before shutting the fridge, turning to leave when you froze.

Jeonghan was standing in front of you. And this time, he was closer. Much closer.

Slightly surprised, you took a step backwards. Jeonghan tilted his head to the side and mirrored your actions, taking one step closer. This continued for a short bit with him coming one step closer for every one step you took backwards until he had you backed up against the counter, caging you in place with both arms by your side on the countertop.

“Ah…Hi again, Mr. Yoon.” You said, feeling nervous all over again with how close he was.

“Mmm…you’re just making yourself right at home, aren’t you?” Jeonghan asked. “Taking from my fridge without even asking…”

Your eyes widened, worried you had upset him. “I’m sorry sir, I asked Iseul first, really I would never!”

Jeonghan smirked and shook his head. “Relax baby, I’m only kidding. You can get as comfortable as you want here.” He mumbled, one of his hands moving from the counter to rest on your hip.

You tried to back away, right now you wish that was an option, but between the counter keeping you from moving backwards and Jeonghan’s hand on you, it was a little hard to go anywhere. “Mr. Yoon, what are you doing..?”

“Just…looking. Why, should I stop?”

With every word he spoke Jeonghan inched his face closer and closer to yours until you were only inches apart. His eyes wandered down from your eyes to your lips. You were hoping he wouldn’t lick them, but of course he did.

God, this man would be the death of you.

You turned your head to the side, too shy to meet his gaze. “Sorry sir, I don’t know if…” Your words got lost in your throat as Jeonghan placed his hand under your chin and turned your head back to look at him.

“Now now princess, anything you have to say you can say it to my face.” He said as he ran his thumb across your bottom lip. “God, I really want to kiss you baby. Can I?”

You bit your lip and nodded every so slightly, feeling your heart betray you as it started to beat so fast and loud you would be surprised if it didn’t burst out of your chest right now. You looked down at his lips like he did to you just moments ago before. “Yes, please,” you mumbled. “kiss me.”

That was all it took before Jeonghan closed the last bit of distance between you two, attaching his lips to yours. Your eyes fluttered shut as you brought your hands away from your sides to tangle them into his soft black hair. Jeonghan lightly but your bottom lip, causing you to let out a moan which allowed him to slip his tongue into your mouth. His hand that was on your hip traveled up to hold your waist, while his other hand rested on the nape of your neck to pull you impossibly closer. It all felt so unreal, so intense, it made your head spin and your underwear slick.

Jeonghan pulled away and looked down at you with a faint smile. You looked up at him, still breathless and panting.

“Iseul will probably be getting worried about you by now, huh princess?” He asked, stepping away from you. “You shouldn’t keep her waiting. She tends to worry, you know.” You nodded, still a bit dazed from the kiss and started to walk away, but Jeonghan tugged your hand to stop you, slipping the bottle of water back into your hand with a wink and slipped out of the kitchen and once again disappeared into the house.

By Monday evening, you had said your goodbyes to Iseul (unsure of where her father had went inside that giant house of theirs) and hauled ass back to your dorm to try and get said father off of your mind—it didn’t work. Needless to say, you ended the night with your fingers buried in your pussy with the image of Jeonghan replaying over and over in your mind, you chanting his name like it would bring him out of your fantasies and have him ravage you right here in your dorm room.

By Wednesday morning, you had almost completed your part of the project. Iseul had been finished by Monday night and offered to help, but you insisted on doing it yourself. The more you thought about it though, you were starting to think you should have accepted it.

“You can come over again if you want. I won’t be there until later in the afternoon, but my dad will be there..if that’s okay with you. Once I get there I can help you finish the project.” Iseul said while you two were on the phone.

At her home? Alone? With Jeonghan? No way. Not when he made your heart race and your cunt throb. Not when he had your head spinning after one kiss. Absolutely not. Not happening. Never.

“Yeah, that’s fine. I’ll text you when I get there.”

The Uber ride back to the Yoon house had you clenching your thighs together, recalling the events from Monday. You weren’t sure you could trust yourself to be alone with Jeonghan, but you were hoping you could settle into Iseul’s room and avoid him until she came home and then leave undetected.

You slipped out of the car and into the house with the spare key Iseul had given you and hurrying down the maze of halls and doors to Iseul’s room.

Or what you thought was Iseul’s room.

“Seulie? You’re back early, were your classes cancelled?” Jeonghan asked as he stood over the wide wooden desk in front of him. When he received no response from who he thought was his daughter, he turned around to face you.

“Oh! I’m so sorry sir, I thought this was Iseul’s room. I’ll leave, please forgive me.” Your blurted out as you tried to turn around and leave, but Jeonghan had gently tugged you back by your arm.

“Oh baby, why are you in such a hurry? It’s almost like you don’t want to see me.” He gave you a half-hearted pout. “Don’t you think that hurts my feelings a little bit?”

The look in his eyes and the pout on his face had you melting into his touch and feeling bad. “I’m sorry, Mr. Yoon. That’s not what I wanted to do at all.”

Jeonghan cooed at you and nodded softly, spinning you around and slowly walking you backwards until he had you pressed up against his desk.

You were starting to think he liked seeing you pressed up against random surfaces.

“So pretty, aren’t you baby?” He mumbled, leaning closer and trailing kisses down your jaw and your neck which had you moaning and whining as you reached up to hold onto his shoulders. “Truth be told, I haven’t been able to stop thinking of you since Iseul brought you over on Monday.”

You moaned softly. “Neither have I.”

Jeonghan let out a satisfied hum, rubbing his hands up and down your sides before he slipped them under your shirt and pulled it up over your chest and revealing your lacy white bra. He groaned at the sight and pushed his body closer to yours, bringing his hands to your chest to trace over the details.

“Wow, I didn’t realize my princess was such a little slut.” He said as he reattached his lips to your neck, peppering a few lingering kisses before bringing one of his hands behind your back to unhook your bra. “And who did you wear that for, exactly? Hmm?”

Truth be told, you hadn’t worn it for anyone—especially since you didn’t even plan on being in this situation to begin with—but if you knew how to do anything it was flatter people, so you decided to go with that approach.

“I wore it for you, Mr. Yoon.” You said, looking up at him and batting tour eyelashes. The action had Jeonghan swearing under his breath. He reached forward and patted the desk behind you.

“Lie back, princess.” He instructed. You did so instantly and Jeonghan chuckled at your obedience as he lowered himself to his knees in front of you. and pressed a chaste kiss to your thigh. When you tensed, he pulled himself back. “Relax, I promise I’ll go easy on you. For now.”

Without even giving you the chance to respond, Jeonghan tugged your shorts down, stopping to admire the white panties that matched your bra and the wetness that stained them. He gazed up at you with a smirk before pulling them down as well, relishing in the image of your soaking wet pussy on display for him. “Just as pretty as the rest of you, princess.”

A little embarrassed, you looked away from him and tried to shut your legs, but Jeonghan seemed displeased by that. He forced them open wider with ease and gave you a disapproving look.

“That won’t do. If I’m going to do this, you’ll have to be a good girl for me, understand?” When you nodded, Jeonghan shook his head “Use your words.”

“I understand, sir.”

The corners of his lips turned upwards as he brought his face to your core, kissing and licking gently while his hands soothingly ran his hands up and down the sides of your thighs, relishing in the way you moaned and whimpered and, occasionally, tugged on his hair.

“Oh, shit,” You cried when you felt Jeonghan slip a finger inside you, curling it upwards and hitting that one spot inside you over and over again. “feels so good, sir, please don’t stop.”

The man hummed against your skin, the vibrations making you moan louder than you would’ve liked if you weren’t so close already, and with him adding another finger inside you and sucking on your clit, there was little holding you back.

“Aww, is my princess about to cum?” Jeonghan asked, even though by the way your cunt pulsed around his fingers, you got the sense he wasn’t being sincere. When you nodded, he pressed one last kiss to your clit and pulled himself away from your core.

You whined. “Why..why’d you stop?”

“Believe me princess, I was enjoying myself too,” He muttered, bringing the fingers that were just inside you to his mouth and licking the remnants of your arousal off of them. “But I really don’t want you to cum unless it’s on my cock.” You exhaled shakily, reaching down to feel how hard he had gotten already. He moaned softly, quietly, so faint you wouldn’t have even heard it if you weren’t listening. If he really wanted, he would be fine to continue like this, maybe even get himself off rubbing against your hand, but there was nothing more he wanted right now than to bury himself inside of you.

A gentle push send you back into the once cool surface of his desk, now warm with your body heat and slightly damp with your sweat. Jeonghan wasted no time in ridding himself of his clothes, sliding a hand under one of your thighs and pulling you closer. His other hand held onto his cock, pumping himself a little as he rubbed it against your slick to coat himself with your wetness before he slowly started to push himself inside of you.

“Fuck, princess,” Jeonghan hissed once he finally bottomed out, feeling your insides squeezing his cock. “you can’t clench like that unless you want me to cum before I’ve even started moving.” He said, leaning down to your face and kissing the corner of your lips. He tried to pull away, but you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him back down.

“Whenever you’re ready.”

His sudden gentleness shocked you, almost forgetting what position you were even in, but the need for him to start moving took over and you were right back in the moment. “I’m ready.”

His hands held your hips tightly as he pulled himself almost all the way out of you before thrusting back in, knocking some of the air right out of your lungs.

“So tight for me, aren’t you baby?” He groaned and buried his face into your neck. You nodded, albeit you hadn’t really been meaning to, you just couldn’t help your responses when the way he was fucking you felt so good.

“Harder, please. I need it. I need you, Jeonghan.”

Hearing you moan out his name stirred something in Jeonghan, something that had him snapping his hips harder and faster into you. Something that had him burying his face into your chest and sucking marks into your chest that you were certain wouldn’t fade for days. Something that had him bringing his mouth to your ear to whisper more of the filthy things you didn’t know he was capable of saying.

“Jeonghan? All it takes is me fucking you for you to lose all sense of respect, huh baby?” He asked, his breath becoming ragged and uneven as he continued to thrust into you with all his strength. “I thought you were my good girl, but I guess I was right before. Maybe you are just a little slut.”

“I am good!” You cried out, arching your back when Jeonghan continuously hit that spongy part inside of you. “I’m sorry sir, I’ll be good, I promise!”

Jeonghan chuckled, easing up on you a little bit but still continuing to fuck you with the pace he had already set. “Is that so? Does that mean you’ll do what I say? Will you be my good girl?”

“Yes, yes, anything you want sir!”

“That’s it baby,” He whispered with a tenderness that contrasted the way his cock was abusing your insides. “Be a good girl for me. Take my cock like a good girl.”

Shit, you weren’t gonna last much longer at this rate.

“Mr. Yoon, I’m gonna cum soon, please please please let me cum—” Jeonghan shushed your babbling by pressing his lips to yours, swallowing each whine and moan. While you were distracted with that, he trailed his fingers down your body all the way to your clit and rubbed it in fast, tight circles.

“Go ahead baby, cum whenever you want.”

That was all it took for the coil in your abdomen to finally snap, sending you spiraling over the edge. Jeonghan continued to thrust into you, though they started to falter as he got closer and closer to his own release.

“S-Shit, where do you—ah—want me, princess?”

“Inside me, please, sir.” You moaned. “I wanna feel you..need to feel you.”

With one final thrust, Jeonghan let out a final strong of curses before his hips stilled and he emptied himself inside you, painting your insides white. He hovered over you as the two of you caught your breath, eyes shut tight and lips slightly parted. After a few minutes like that, Jeonghan pulled out of you and mumbled for you to stay put there, fishing out his boxers and pants from the pile of clothes on the floor and pulling them on before slipping out of the room.

You sat up on the desk, allowing yourself to fully take in everything that had just happened. Did you seriously just let the father of your new friend fuck you? And enjoy it?

Yes, yes you did.

Jeonghan was back a few minutes later with a damp towel and a bottle of water. You eagerly took the water, drinking half of the bottle without a single break while Jeonghan wiped away the cum from between your legs and the sweat from your back along with the desk.

“I hope I wasn’t too hard on you.” Jeonghan spoke, picking your clothes off of the floor and handing them back to you. You smiled, slipping them back on and smoothing them out as much as you could.

“No no, it’s really fine.” You insisted. “It felt good.”

“Did it now? Should we go again?”

Jeonghan looked at you with a newfound hunger in his eyes that made you feel like you were in the kitchen pressed up against the counter all over again. You bit your lip and nodded, pulling him closer for a kiss, but at the sound of the door unlocking and opening you immediately jumped up and pushed him away.

“Dad, I’m home.” Iseul called out from somewhere further away in the house. You heard her footsteps coming, but you still jumped when the door to the room opened and Iseul stood there in the doorway, looking between the two of you.

“Oh, you were in here. I was wondering why you weren’t in my room.” She said, appearing completely oblivious to the situation that had just occurred in this room.

“Oh, yeah,” You laughed a bit fakely, taking a quick glance at Jeonghan before walking over to Iseul. “I got lost again.”

“Yeah, I get it. I still get lost sometimes too.” Iseul smiled apologetically, waving at Jeonghan before leading you out of the room. “So, did you finish the project? Or do you still need my help on those last few slides?”

As Iseul started to lead you out of the room, you couldn’t help but look back at Jeonghan one last time. He smiled at you, whispering something you almost didn’t hear before Iseul dragged you away.

“I’ll be waiting for you, princess.”

You smiled. Maybe this project hadn’t been so bad after all. Fingers crossed your professor would partner you with Iseul for the finals, too.

[annwrites]

⸻ tell me i'm your national anthem. part four. ⸻

· pairing: homelander x collegestudent!reader · type: part of a series · summary: you begin to get a better idea of just how deeply damaged john truly is & he stakes a claim to you. · tags: lactation kink · tw: possessiveness · word count: 2,618

You sip on your iced coffee, typing away on your laptop, near to completing your essay for one of your classes, which is due in two days.

“God, he’s so hot. I don’t get why you don’t think so,” Emma says.

You glance up to her from over your laptop screen with a raised brow, watching as she stares down at her cellphone with a dreamy look in her eyes.

“Huh?”

She looks at you, then raises her phone, showing you a recent livestream of John. No, Homelander.

No, John. You hate his moniker.

He smiles charmingly at a reporter, who speaks into her microphone with an excited look on her face. “I’m here speaking to the one and only Homelander, who just—with the aid of his fellow supe, A-Train—saved a family of three from a near-fatal car accident.”

She holds the microphone toward him. “Can you tell us what happened here, Homelander?”

You refrain from rolling your eyes at the obnoxious name.

“Yeah, me and my buddy and fellow supe, A-Train,” he nods to the smiling man at his side who waves to the camera. “Were just doing some patrols of the area—just something we try to do every now and again across the state to keep our people safe,” he says with a shrug.

“When we saw the driver over there,” he continues, pointing to a man standing near a blue sedan. “Run a red light here at the intersection. Just—” He purses his lips, shaking his head. “Carelessness.”

He sighs, continuing on. “But, thankfully, A-Train and I were able to step in and rush the injured parties: a mom, dad, and their sweet little girl, to the nearest hospital. I mean, to wait for an ambulance…there’s no telling what might’ve happened. What precious lives might’ve been lost.”

The camera pans back to the reporter. “What would we ever do without you—either of you? We are all so lucky to have heros like the two of you—like the Seven—saving and protecting America every day.”

The camera returns to John who shakes his head, waving his hand. “No, it’s the people of this great nation who are the real heros. We’re just here to do our jobs and use the gifts God gave us to protect and save our fellow man.”

“And save them you did,” the reporter replies, continuing on before Emma locks her phone, looking at you, resting her chin atop both her fists.

“I want him so bad,” she mumbles with a smile.

You grin, shaking your head—sweating nervously.

She’s loved the man for as long as you can remember. Used to have a poster of him—ok, multiple posters—stuck to her bedrooms walls growing up. And she’s seen all of his movies probably an unhealthy amount of times.

If she had any idea that he’d had his head shoved between your thighs just a few nights ago—that you know his real name, his childhood story—the real one—that you’ve had him in your bed, crying in your arms, sitting at your dining table as the two of you eat together…that he’s called himself ‘your man’ more than once now… You’re pretty sure she’d pop a blood vessel, grill you relentlessly on everything, and then never forgive you.

You tell her everything, but this…you can’t.

Honestly, you wonder if she’d even believe you if you tried, anyway.

“What do you think he’s like in bed?”

Your head shoots up. “What?”

She grins. “Not like you want to know how many times I’ve thought about it, but…he’s like the American Dream, right? I mean, he’s definitely my American wet dream.”

You snort.

She continues. “So do you think he’s vanilla, then? Only missionary? Or…oh, I bet he loves creampies. He seems like he could be the type to have a breeding kink. Nuclear family and all.”

You lay your head down. “I don’t want to know.”

You know he’s incredibly good at oral, if nothing else. And he’s a boob man. He’d spent the entire night with his face resting between both of yours.

And he really loves to cuddle. He’d held you like a human-sized teddy bear all night. But, you suppose it makes sense: being desperate for affection. Every time you’d thought today about what he’d told you last night, your heart had broken all over again. You’d actually had to hide yourself away in a restroom today between classes just to cry.

Maybe your period is going to start soon…

God, who would’ve thought in a million years that you would feel sorry for Homelander? But you don’t see him as that now. Not when you’re alone together. Now he’s just…John.

Honestly, in a million years you would’ve never imagined letting him into your bed. Holding him. Calling him baby. Or sweetheart…

“Just guess,” she insists.

You groan in irritation, raising your head. “Maybe he’s a boob man.”

She rolls her eyes toward the ceiling, thinking for a moment before looking back to you while nodding. “Yeah, I can see that.”

You shake your head while smiling. “I have to get this paper done.”

You don’t bother keeping your balcony doors closed this evening. Not while you’re up and idly watching TV, at least.

Watch, you think, the one night you leave them open—as a reluctant invitation—will be the night he finally decides he’s grown bored of coming here and he never returns.

You’re entirely okay with that possibility.

You’d do anything to pass him off onto Emma. Then again…no, you wouldn’t. You most certainly don’t like the idea of him doing to her what he did just a couple nights ago to you on your kitchen counter.

But, she also wouldn’t have even thought about fighting back like you had. She would’ve been completely willing.

You wonder if that would’ve made him all the more angry. Maybe that’s the part that turns him on the most—resistance; a fight.

You jolt when you hear a soft thump to your left. You, begrudgingly, turn your head in that direction, met with the sight of the one and only Captain Asshole.

You feel guilty after thinking that, though. Especially after last night.

He’s just…emotionally stunted. And you’re not even sure at what specific age. Maybe there isn’t a particular one, because for his entire adolescent life…he’d been locked in that room with no one and nothing to interact with.

Tears sting your eyes.

He steps over the threshold, and you merely gaze up at him.

You’re not offering to willingly make him dinner like some trained pet. Not that you feel like it to begin with. You’ve already eaten. He can fly down to the local McDonald’s and pick up a Big Mac if he’s hungry.

Fly down.

He can fly.

What an insane thing to be able to do.

But also fantastical and amazing.

You wish you could do that.

He slips off his boots, setting them beside the door, before padding over, seating himself heavily beside you.

You flip the channel to some trivia game-show then.

“You ever seen any of my movies?” He asks.

You roll your head to the side, staring at him. “What do you think?”

He rolls his eyes, crossing his arms, looking at the TV. “So, you’ve never had a favorite supe?”

You face forward again as well. “Not really, no.”

“Never had so much as a poster of me?”

You shake your head.

He smirks. “Maybe I should gift you a Homelander pack of panties.”

You look at him with a raised brow.

“Of course they sell those,” you say with a shake of your head.

He leans over you, sliding a hand up your thigh. “I could be with you all day long that way. Right between your legs.”

You shake your head yet again, but in disapproval. Even if your lip twitches in mild amusement.

He leans back again. “I’d like a glass of milk.”

You huff quietly—the playful moment clearly over—and stand.

Once you’ve given him his requested drink, he takes a brief sip, then speaks before you seat yourself once again.

“Well, you’ve gotten to see me undressed. I think we should make things even.”

You still—the hairs raising on the back of your neck—while you simply stand and stare at him.

“C’mon,” he says, motioning with his hand, taking another drink. “Strip.”

“You’ve already seen me without…bottoms—”

“So now I get to see the other half.”

The part of you he’s most interested in, he thinks.

You cross your arms, frowning, heartrate slowly beginning to climb.

His eyes go red and you jump slightly, arms falling to your sides in surprise.

Shades of blue return to you then, and he smiles sweetly, which serves only to make your stomach turn.

“I’m waiting.”

With trembling hands and stinging eyes, you grip the hem of your shirt, slowly tugging it up and over your head. You bunch it up, then hold it shyly against your middle.

“All of it,” he states, taking a long drink, licking his lips as he looks you over.

Your chin wobbles. “I don’t want—”

He sighs, leaning forward. “It’s just us. So slip it off, then climb into my lap.”

You waver.

“I’m not going to rape you. If I wanted you on your back with your legs spread, you would be.”

Not that it’s an unappealing idea to him.

You reach behind you, undoing your bra one clasp at a time. You slip it from your shoulders, tossing it onto the coffee table, then clasp your hands over your naked breasts.

He makes a beckoning motion with his index finger, so you step forward. Hesitantly.

“Straddle my lap.”

You swallow thickly, then do so, settling bent legs on either side of him, resting back on your calves.

He glances to your hands, then into your eyes with a raised brow.

You’d been right in what you’d told Emma that morning—your assumption about him having an appreciation for breasts—apparently.

You lower your arms, resting your hands in your lap, and he abruptly wraps his own around you, leaning forward, taking a nipple into his mouth.

Your eyes widen in shock, your body growing warm all over as he begins to gently suck, his eyes fluttering closed while he moans quietly in the back of his throat.

You, meanwhile, remain still and silent, unsure what the hell to do with yourself.

He releases your breast for a moment, taking a drink of milk, then immediately dives back in.

The TV plays softly in the background, so you choose to instead focus on mentally participating in answering trivial questions instead of…this.

Until he leans back, sliding a hand up your back, gripping your neck.

Your eyes meet his.

“Touch my head.”

You slide trembling hands atop his shoulders, lacing your fingers into his blond strands, and he returns his attentions to your chest.

You gently rub your fingertips against his scalp and he hums in contentment, taking another sip of milk, then sucking on your other breast.

It’s then that the metaphorical wheels begin to turn.

Constantly switching between taking drinks of milk and sucking on your breasts… Oh good lord, he has a breast-feeding kink, doesn’t he?

He just grows more and more interesting the more time you spend with him.

And then your heart breaks all over again.

What if it’s not, entirely, a kink? You know it’s at least half one with the feeling of his erection pressing against your shorts.

He never had a mother. Never had any form of maternal comfort growing up.

Showing up and asking—rather, demanding—dinner, your attention and approval, nearly threatening you last night after a moment of extreme vulnerability… He’d held you to his chest the entire night. Like a child does with a toy for comfort when attempting to sleep.

And now…he’s pretending to breast-feed.

You decide on another small experiment—he liked it the other night when you gave him affectionate touches—and begin to quietly hum a nursery rhyme.

This feels like some fucked-up psychological experiment: you trying to read him and gauge his reactions to this and that to get an exaction on his true nature. But, in reality, he doesn’t seem terribly hard to get at.

He goes to switch breasts again and you grow silent. Until he looks up at you, and tells you, “Keep singing.”

The two of you are lying in bed again with John’s head resting between your breasts as he takes even, steady breaths.

You run your fingers slowly through his hair, lulling him to sleep.

You’re nearly on the edge of it yourself when he stirs before leaning over you, slowly sliding his hand up your chest, then along your neck until his large, heavy palm comes to rest atop the soft, delicate skin.

He stares down at you, and you cup his cheek, brushing your thumb along it.

He smiles gently, tightening his hold, and you swallow nervously, your brows furrowing.

“You’re mine,” he whispers. “You belong to me now. Do you understand?”

Your eyes flit between his and your heart begins to hammer in fear.

“You understand me,” he continues. “Like no one else has ever bothered to. We’re together now. Got it?”

He can’t really mean it. Someone like him…he must be expected to carry on with who Vought and the press choose for him.

“We…we’ve known each other for four days, John. That’s not enough time to—to know how you feel—”

“It wasn’t a question. I wasn’t asking. You’re mine.”

He presses his lips to yours and a tear slips from the corner of your eye.

He lies back down then, snuggling close to you for comfort. “If I find out you’re seeing anyone else, you won’t like what happens to him. So, I suggest staying loyal. Not that anyone else could ever compare to me, anyway. I mean, you should be happy about this—that you’re the young woman I’ve chosen for myself. It makes you special. Being mine, that is. A rich superhero. The supe.”

He closes his eyes, softly smiling. “The greatest man in all of America—the world—and I’m all yours.”

He tightens his hold around you.

“Doesn’t that make you happy?” He asks with a flat, slightly-threatening tone.

Your fingers tremble against his scalp. “What about Maeve?”

He snorts. “She might be my equal—for the most part—but you have your own appeal. There’s nothing I can give her that she can’t already get on her own. Whereas you should be grateful I’ve spared you a second glance or thought. That I’ve let you get this close to me. I’m a gift, really. Come to add interest to your ordinary life.”

A narcissist is what you are, you think.

Does he think, by stressing how special and one-of-a-kind he is, that you’ll…what? Agree? See how blind you’ve been all these years to have shirked the prospect of idolizing him, and finally fall on your knees, beginning for his attention?

You already have it.

The roles are reversed here, in truth. He’s the one desperate to have yours.

You know you shouldn’t speak further, but you want to hear his response to you laying the truth plainly before him. “If I’m so ordinary and you’re so…extraordinary, why bother with me? What is my ‘appeal’, as you put it?”

He grows quiet, listening to your heart pounding in your chest.

Finally, he curls his fingertips inward against your back. “Go to sleep.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, terrified of him. Of what’s happening to you.

Dear God, why couldn’t you have skipped just one day of class? Or come halfway through the day instead?

Now… Now you would be paying for it until he chooses to call this sick game quits.

[eyrieofsynapses]

why Aurora's art is genius

It's break for me, and I've been meaning to sit down and read the Aurora webcomic (https://comicaurora.com/, @comicaurora on Tumblr) for quite a bit. So I did that over the last few days.

And… y'know. I can't actually say "I should've read this earlier," because otherwise I would've been up at 2:30-3am when I had responsibilities in the morning and I couldn't have properly enjoyed it, but. Holy shit guys THIS COMIC.

I intended to just do a generalized "hello this is all the things I love about this story," and I wrote a paragraph or two about art style. …and then another. And another. And I realized I needed to actually reference things so I would stop being too vague. I was reading the comic on my tablet or phone, because I wanted to stay curled up in my chair, but I type at a big monitor and so I saw more details… aaaaaand it turned into its own giant-ass post.

SO. Enjoy a few thousand words of me nerding out about this insanely cool art style and how fucking gorgeous this comic is? (There are screenshots, I promise it isn't just a wall of text.) In my defense, I just spent two semesters in graphic design classes focusing on the Adobe Suite, so… I get to be a nerd about pretty things…???

All positive feedback btw! No downers here. <3

---

I cannot emphasize enough how much I love the beautiful, simple stylistic method of drawing characters and figures. It is absolutely stunning and effortless and utterly graceful—it is so hard to capture the sheer beauty and fluidity of the human form in such a fashion. Even a simple outline of a character feels dynamic! It's gorgeous!

Though I do have a love-hate relationship with this, because my artistic side looks at that lovely simplicity, goes "I CAN DO THAT!" and then I sit down and go to the paper and realize that no, in fact, I cannot do that yet, because that simplicity is born of a hell of a lot of practice and understanding of bodies and actually is really hard to do. It's a very developed style that only looks simple because the artist knows what they're doing. The human body is hard to pull off, and this comic does so beautifully and makes it look effortless.

Also: line weight line weight line weight. It's especially important in simplified shapes and figures like this, and hoo boy is it used excellently. It's especially apparent the newer the pages get—I love watching that improvement over time—but with simpler figures and lines, you get nice light lines to emphasize both smaller details, like in the draping of clothing and the curls of hair—which, hello, yes—and thicker lines to emphasize bigger and more important details and silhouettes. It's the sort of thing that's essential to most illustrations, but I wanted to make a note of it because it's so vital to this art style.

THE USE OF LAYER BLENDING MODES OH MY GODS. (...uhhh, apologies to the people who don't know what that means, it's a digital art program thing? This article explains it for beginners.)

Bear with me, I just finished my second Photoshop course, I spent months and months working on projects with this shit so I see the genius use of Screen and/or its siblings (of which there are many—if I say "Screen" here, assume I mean the entire umbrella of Screen blending modes and possibly Overlay) and go nuts, but seriously it's so clever and also fucking gorgeous:

Firstly: the use of screened-on sound effect words over an action? A "CRACK" written over a branch and then put on Screen in glowy green so that it's subtle enough that it doesn't disrupt the visual flow, but still sticks out enough to make itself heard? Little "scritches" that are transparent where they're laid on without outlines to emphasize the sound without disrupting the underlying image? FUCK YES. I haven't seen this done literally anywhere else—granted, I haven't read a massive amount of comics, but I've read enough—and it is so clever and I adore it. Examples:

Secondly: The beautiful lighting effects. The curling leaves, all the magic, the various glowing eyes, the fog, the way it's all so vividly colored but doesn't burn your eyeballs out—a balance that's way harder to achieve than you'd think—and the soft glows around them, eeeee it's so pretty so pretty SO PRETTY. Not sure if some of these are Outer/Inner Glow/Shadow layer effects or if it's entirely hand-drawn, but major kudos either way; I can see the beautiful use of blending modes and I SALUTE YOUR GENIUS.

I keep looking at some of this stuff and go "is that a layer effect or is it done by hand?" Because you can make some similar things with the Satin layer effect in Photoshop (I don't know if other programs have this? I'm gonna have to find out since I won't have access to PS for much longer ;-;) that resembles some of the swirly inner bits on some of the lit effects, but I'm not sure if it is that or not. Or you could mask over textures? There's... many ways to do it.

If done by hand: oh my gods the patience, how. If done with layer effects: really clever work that knows how to stop said effects from looking wonky, because ugh those things get temperamental. If done with a layer of texture that's been masked over: very, very good masking work. No matter the method, pretty shimmers and swirly bits inside the bigger pretty swirls!

Next: The way color contrast is used! I will never be over the glowy green-on-black Primordial Life vibes when Alinua gets dropped into that… unconscious space?? with Life, for example, and the sharp contrast of vines and crack and branches and leaves against pitch black is just visually stunning. The way the roots sink into the ground and the three-dimensional sensation of it is particularly badass here:

Friggin. How does this imply depth like that. HOW. IT'S SO FREAKING COOL.

A huge point here is also color language and use! Everybody has their own particular shade, generally matching their eyes, magic, and personality, and I adore how this is used to make it clear who's talking or who's doing an action. That was especially apparent to me with Dainix and Falst in the caves—their colors are both fairly warm, but quite distinct, and I love how this clarifies who's doing what in panels with a lot of action from both of them. There is a particular bit that stuck out to me, so I dug up the panels (see this page and the following one https://comicaurora.com/aurora/1-20-30/):

(Gods it looks even prettier now that I put it against a plain background. Also, appreciation to Falst for managing a bridal-carry midair, damn.)

The way that their colors MERGE here! And the immense attention to detail in doing so—Dainix is higher up than Falst is in the first panel, so Dainix's orange fades into Falst's orange at the base. The next panel has gold up top and orange on bottom; we can't really tell in that panel where each of them are, but that's carried over to the next panel—

—where we now see that Falst's position is raised above Dainix's due to the way he's carrying him. (Points for continuity!) And, of course, we see the little "huffs" flowing from orange to yellow over their heads (where Dainix's head is higher than Falst's) to merge the sound of their breathing, which is absurdly clever because it emphasizes to the viewer how we hear two sets of huffing overlaying each other, not one. Absolutely brilliant.

(A few other notes of appreciation to that panel: beautiful glows around them, the sparks, the jagged silhouette of the spider legs, the lovely colors that have no right to make the area around a spider corpse that pretty, the excellent texturing on the cave walls plus perspective, the way Falst's movements imply Dainix's hefty weight, the natural posing of the characters, their on-point expressions that convey exactly how fuckin terrifying everything is right now, the slight glows to their eyes, and also they're just handsome boys <3)

Next up: Rain!!!! So well done! It's subtle enough that it never ever disrupts the impact of the focal point, but evident enough you can tell! And more importantly: THE MIST OFF THE CHARACTERS. Rain does this irl, it has that little vapor that comes off you and makes that little misty effect that plays with lighting, it's so cool-looking and here it's used to such pretty effect!

One of the panel captions says something about it blurring out all the injuries on the characters but like THAT AIN'T TOO BIG OF A PROBLEM when it gets across the environmental vibes, and also that'd be how it would look in real life too so like… outside viewer's angle is the same as the characters', mostly? my point is: that's the environment!!! that's the vibes, that's the feel! It gets it across and it does so in the most pretty way possible!

And another thing re: rain, the use of it to establish perspective, particularly in panels like this—

—where we can tell we're looking down at Tynan due to the perspective on the rain and where it's pointing. Excellent. (Also, kudos for looking down and emphasizing how Tynan's losing his advantage—lovely use of visual storytelling.)

Additionally, the misting here:

We see it most heavily in the leftmost panel, where it's quite foggy as you would expect in a rainstorm, especially in an environment with a lot of heat, but it's also lightly powdered on in the following two panels and tends to follow light sources, which makes complete sense given how light bounces off particles in the air.

A major point of strength in these too is a thorough understanding of lighting, like rim lighting, the various hues and shades, and an intricate understanding of how light bounces off surfaces even when they're in shadow (we'll see a faint glow in spots where characters are half in shadow, but that's how it would work in real life, because of how light bounces around).

Bringing some of these points together: the fluidity of the lines in magic, and the way simple glowing lines are used to emphasize motion and the magic itself, is deeply clever. I'm basically pulling at random from panels and there's definitely even better examples, but here's one (see this page https://comicaurora.com/aurora/1-16-33/):

First panel, listed in numbers because these build on each other:

The tension of the lines in Tess's magic here. This works on a couple levels: first, the way she's holding her fists, as if she's pulling a rope taut.

The way there's one primary line, emphasizing the rope feeling, accompanied by smaller ones.

The additional lines starbursting around her hands, to indicate the energy crackling in her hands and how she's doing a good bit more than just holding it. (That combined with the fists suggests some tension to the magic, too.) Also the variations in brightness, a feature you'll find in actual lightning. :D Additional kudos for how the lightning sparks and breaks off the metal of the sword.

A handful of miscellaneous notes on the second panel:

The reflection of the flames in Erin's typically dark blue eyes (which bears a remarkable resemblance to Dainix, incidentally—almost a thematic sort of parallel given Erin's using the same magic Dainix specializes in?)

The flowing of fabric in the wind and associated variation in the lineart

The way Erin's tattoos interact with the fire he's pulling to his hand

The way the rain overlays some of the fainter areas of fire (attention! to! detail! hell yeah!)

I could go on. I won't because this is a lot of writing already.

Third panel gets paragraphs, not bullets:

Erin's giant-ass "FWOOM" of fire there, and the way the outline of the word is puffy-edged and gradated to feel almost three-dimensional, plus once again using Screen or a variation on it so that the stars show up in the background. All this against that stunning plume of fire, which ripples and sparks so gorgeously, and the ending "om" of the onomatopoeia is emphasized incredibly brightly against that, adding to the punch of it and making the plume feel even brighter.

Also, once again, rain helping establish perspective, especially in how it's very angular in the left side of the panel and then slowly becomes more like a point to the right to indicate it's falling directly down on the viewer. Add in the bright, beautiful glow effects, fainter but no less important black lines beneath them to emphasize the sky and smoke and the like, and the stunningly beautiful lighting and gradated glows surrounding Erin plus the lightning jagging up at him from below, and you get one hell of an impactful panel right there. (And there is definitely more in there I could break down, this is just a lot already.)

And in general: The colors in this? Incredible. The blues and purples and oranges and golds compliment so well, and it's all so rich.

Like, seriously, just throughout the whole comic, the use of gradients, blending modes, color balance and hues, all the things, all the things, it makes for the most beautiful effects and glows and such a rich environment. There's a very distinct style to this comic in its simplified backgrounds (which I recognize are done partly because it's way easier and also backgrounds are so time-consuming dear gods but lemme say this) and vivid, smoothly drawn characters; the simplicity lets them come to the front and gives room for those beautiful, richly saturated focal points, letting the stylized designs of the magic and characters shine. The use of distinct silhouettes is insanely good. Honestly, complex backgrounds might run the risk of making everything too visually busy in this case. It's just, augh, so GORGEOUS.

Another bit, take a look at this page (https://comicaurora.com/aurora/1-15-28/):

It's not quite as evident here as it is in the next page, but this one does some other fun things so I'm grabbing it. Points:

Once again, using different colors to represent different character actions. The "WHAM" of Kendal hitting the ground is caused by Dainix's force, so it's orange (and kudos for doubling the word over to add a shake effect). But we see blue layered underneath, which could be an environmental choice, but might also be because it's Kendal, whose color is blue.

And speaking off, take a look at the right-most panel on top, where Kendal grabs the spear: his motion is, again, illustrated in bright blue, versus the atmospheric screened-on orange lines that point toward him around the whole panel (I'm sure these have a name, I think they might be more of a manga thing though and the only experience I have in manga is reading a bit of Fullmetal Alchemist). Those lines emphasize the weight of the spear being shoved at him, and their color tells us Dainix is responsible for it.

One of my all-time favorite effects in this comic is the way cracks manifest across Dainix's body to represent when he starts to lose control; it is utterly gorgeous and wonderfully thematic. These are more evident in the page before and after this one, but you get a decent idea here. I love the way they glow softly, the way the fire juuuust flickers through at the start and then becomes more evident over time, and the cracks feel so realistic, like his skin is made of pottery. Additional points for how fire begins to creep into his hair.

A small detail that's generally consistent across the comic, but which I want to make note of here because you can see it pretty well: Kendal's eyes glow about the same as the jewel in his sword, mirroring his connection to said sword and calling back to how the jewel became Vash's eye temporarily and thus was once Kendal's eye. You can always see this connection (though there might be some spots where this also changes in a symbolic manner; I went through it quickly on the first time around, so I'll pay more attention when I inevitably reread this), where Kendal's always got that little shine of blue in his eyes the same as the jewel. It's a beautiful visual parallel that encourages the reader to subconsciously link them together, especially since the lines used to illustrate character movements typically mirror their eye color. It's an extension of Kendal.

Did I mention how ABSOLUTELY BEAUTIFUL the colors in this are?

Also, the mythological/legend-type scenes are illustrated in familiar style often used for that type of story, a simple and heavily symbolic two-dimensional cave-painting-like look. They are absolutely beautiful on many levels, employing simple, lovely gradients, slightly rougher and thicker lineart that is nonetheless smoothly beautiful, and working with clear silhouettes (a major strength of this art style, but also a strength in the comic overall). But in particular, I wanted to call attention to a particular thing (see this page https://comicaurora.com/aurora/1-12-4/):

The flowing symbolic lineart surrounding each character. This is actually quite consistent across characters—see also Life's typical lines and how they curl:

What's particularly interesting here is how these symbols are often similar, but not the same. Vash's lines are always smooth, clean curls, often playing off each other and echoing one another like ripples in a pond. You'd think they'd look too similar to Life's—but they don't. Life's curl like vines, and they remain connected; where one curve might echo another but exist entirely detached from each other in Vash's, Life's lines still remain wound together, because vines are continuous and don't float around. :P

Tahraim's are less continuous, often breaking up with significantly smaller bits and pieces floating around like—of course—sparks, and come to sharper points. These are also constants: we see the vines repeated over and over in Alinua's dreams of Life, and the echoing ripples of Vash are consistent wherever we encounter him. Kendal's dream of the ghost citizens of the city of Vash in the last few chapters is filled with these rippling, echoing patterns, to beautiful effect (https://comicaurora.com/aurora/1-20-14/):

They ripple and spiral, often in long, sinuous curves, with smooth elegance. It reminds me a great deal of images of space and sine waves and the like. This establishes a definite feel to these different characters and their magic. And the thing is, that's not something that had to be done—the colors are good at emphasizing who's who. But it was done, and it adds a whole other dimension to the story. Whenever you're in a deity's domain, you know whose it is no matter the color.

Regarding that shape language, I wanted to make another note, too—Vash is sometimes described as chaotic and doing what he likes, which is interesting to me, because smooth, elegant curves and the color blue aren't generally associated with chaos. So while Vash might behave like that on the surface, I'm guessing he's got a lot more going on underneath; he's probably much more intentional in his actions than you'd think at a glance, and he is certainly quite caring with his city. The other thing is that this suits Kendal perfectly. He's a paragon character; he is kind, virtuous, and self-sacrificing, and often we see him aiming to calm others and keep them safe. Blue is such a good color for him. There is… probably more to this, but I'm not deep enough in yet to say.

And here's the thing: I'm only scratching the surface. There is so much more here I'm not covering (color palettes! outfits! character design! environment! the deities! so much more!) and a lot more I can't cover, because I don't have the experience; this is me as a hobbyist artist who happened to take a couple design classes because I wanted to. The art style to this comic is so clever and creative and beautiful, though, I just had to go off about it. <3

...brownie points for getting all the way down here? Have a cookie.

[subbypeterparker]

Hear me out whiny!Ethan landry fic or headcannon

whiny!ethan landry headcannon

• he is perhaps the most vocal man you’ve ever met

• but you’d better be sure his whines and moans are music to your ears

• as uni students, you both spend enormous amounts of time on your individual classes, which can lead to time spent away from each other

“pleaseee will you touch me mommy (im sorry i had to slip it in), I promise I’ll make you feel so good, i swear”

you’re sitting cross cross on his bed, working intently on your laptop while he lays behind you, pressing soft kisses to your neck

and obviously him moaning and begging in your ear has you feeling some kind of way, but you really do need to focus

once he realizes he needs to wait a while until your attention can be on him, he gets a bit restless, and lets out a sigh of defeat as you continue typing away

• this man is actually such a slut for you, it’s insane he gets anything done since you two got together

• part of being whiny means ethan being so needy for you, no matter where he is

• even if it’s inconvenient for him to be touching you anywhere, he will beg and whine for you to let him, either until he gets to touch you, or until you punish him for being desperate

“please, please, let me eat your pussy…” “ethan, we’re in the library” “…no one’s around, and i won’t make any noises, i promise”

he’s always so eager to touch you, whenever and wherever he can. doesn’t even need to be sexual

“…sweetheart, you don’t always have to hold my hand,” you look down at your conjoined hands with a pointed look on your face. “i know, but i just want to be near you,” he practically pouts

will get pouty and whiny if you don’t let him touch you, and will act bratty until you let him

• i have to mention this man’s moans and whines

• as i’ve mentioned, he’s very vocal, and when he’s desperate for anything, it goes up 10x

he’ll practically be screaming in bed, especially when he’s close, and loses his breath quickly doing so

this results in the the lewdest and loudest whines and moans you have ever heard, and they’re truthfully enough to have your pussy throbbing

but oh. good. lord. when it comes to pegging, this man is extraordinarily vocal

with his back arching, ass pressing against you as he moans out and clenches around the strap, his poor brain can’t decide if it wants you to slow down, or speed up and wreck him

this conflict results in ethan just losing his ability to speak, and his brain turns numb and can only let out whines and whimpers for you

• he’s so big on being praised, and the slightest stroke on his face combined with a soft praise has him preening in your hands

• ethan landry has the BIGGEST praise kink known to man, and will beg and whine for more praises to poor from your mouth, no matter what you’re doing

he can truly cum just from you praising him, and he knows this, and begs for you to praise him, just so your voice can get him closer

• when he has to restrain himself (either from cumming or from touching you or himself), he starts to whine for your touch and your help

“fuck mommy please, i cant last much longer,” he’s been lying on your bed naked, watching you watch him as he falls apart while you touch yourself

he can feel himself getting closer without even touching himself as he watches you touch your pussy, whining out when you moan his name

• although he likes being praised, and as i’ve said, can get off solely on it, he’s big on being degraded

trust me when i tell you there is NOTHING like ethan sobbing and whining as you degrade him

although he knows he shouldn’t like it as much as he does when you call bim degrading names, he can’t help but moan out and whine for you to keep doing it

“baby look at you, nothing but a fucking whore for mommy, only here for my pleasure, huh?” your words make his back arch as he whines out broken cries and screams of “mommy!”, desperately holding on to any sanity he has

• he is such a simple minded teen boy, that anything to do with you has him whining and writhing just for you, and only you

• he truly is a slut for you, and holy shit, does he earn that title

————————————————————————

it is incredibly late after a long day, yet this writing was much needed, PLEASE keep the ethan requests coming!! 🫶🫶

[volatilesubstances]

Baldur's Gate 3 Companions Ranked By Physical Strength (not STR)

I see so many people who consider any character with 8 or 10 STR stars to be physically weak and it annoys me because actually STR is only a specific part of what we call 'physical strength,' which also includes parts of DEX and CON (which are also not encompassing of dexterity and constitution) by definition. So, under the cut is a ranking of, in my opinion based on stats, context clues and character traits, the BG3 companions based on their overall physical strength. For arguments sake I am only considering the characters in their 'good' path, so no God Gale, Vampire Ascendent Astarion, etc. I am also considering how much they were likely nerfed by the tadpole. Possible spoilers ahead!!

1. Strongest - Lae'zel

This shouldn't be that shocking, githyanki are as a species built for combat and she has spent her entire life training to be a soldier.

Additionally, not only is she consistently swinging heavy weapons around, as a battle master, she is doing so with a level of precision that requires extra strength in order to manipulate the weapon she is using (fun fact, this is by definition attributed to dexterity rather than raw strength, despite being attributed to the STR stat ingame).

She also has the second highest movement speed of any of the companions, and the largest jump range, especially when considering the psionic jump, though this could be considered more magic than physical strength.

All of this she does while also wearing medium armour.

2. Karlach

Also not shocking, given she is a former soldier of an actual archdevil and built like that.

She's literally part machine, though the instability of her engine can be conditionally considered a limiting factor in her strength as much as a booster.

Only character proficient with war hammers, the heaviest weapon type in the game.

Best endurance (closest trait definition to CON stat, 'constitution' is not really a measurement of any given trait so much as the complete makeup of a person's physical form) of any companion, though in terms of physical strength one could argue this is offset by her not wearing armour.

Additionally, arguably the CON stat can be considered a mixture of physical and mental fortitude, so it is debatable whether this can be entirely attributed to physical strength.

3. Minsc

His STR stat does not match his actual strength at all.

For a start he is a former berserker, which has easily the most raw strength of any class or subclass across the board.

His introduction in this game is literally him prying the jaws of a mimic, which have a STR stat of 17 and CON of 15, open from the inside.

Ranger proficiencies don't cover any particular heavy weapons, but they do include both medium armour and shields. Minsc doesn't have either in his starting gear, but nonetheless has the ability to use them.

Also, just look at him. Man is bricked.

4. Astarion

Controversial given the 8 in STR, but realistically Astarion has to be pretty damn strong by nature, just in a different way to the others near the top of this list.

The skillset of a rogue can be compared to the physicality of acrobatics, gymnastics, calisthenics, etc. and let me tell you, that shit requires an insane amount of strength.

He was also likely the most nerfed of any of the companions in terms of physical attributes by the tadpole. All of the other spawn, and also vampire spawn according to 5e, have 16s in STR, DEX, and CON. Without the tadpole, and considering his 17 in DEX, it could well be that he was the strongest of the spawn to boot.

Additionally, it is mentioned a couple times ingame (and in 5e) that spawn can become full vampires by killing their master. Obviously this doesn't happen ingame, most likely just because it would cause balance issues, but as far as I know in the epilogue he is not explicitly referred to as a spawn, so it could be argued that the tadpole may have just supressed this evolution and therefore doesn't happen until the postgame. If this were the case, the baseline for his physical strength stats would be 18 in STR, DEX and CON, though as vampires are inherently magical and these stats are considered supernatural even in-universe, it is debateable how much these stats could attributed to actual physical strength.

5. Halsin

Halsin has one of the wildest changes in stats between NPC and companion, with his STR stat going from 20 in the Shattered Sanctum, to 16 after escaping, and then all the way down to 10 as a companion. Again, it's a balancing thing for gameplay, and because the stats otherwise would have been impractical for a druid, but cutting it by literally half is actually insane.

Again, I am treating his NPC stats as his 'canon' stats, given that a good amount of his character is that he is unnaturally large and strong (and hairy, though that's not really relevant) for an elf, to the point that a good portion of people actually headcanon that he is a bear that can turn into an elf and not vice versa.

Having said this, his dexterity isn't amazing and outside of wildshape, which I am again not considering as it is magic, his physical combat is mediocre without magic.

Interestingly, he at some point won an arm wrestle against Minsc, who I have put higher, though Minsc considered it to be cheating as he turned into a bear. As I see it, he wouldn't have turned into a bear to win unless he was either losing, or they were evenly matched enough that he was putting so much effort in he lost control. Either way, from this I would consider Halsin to be on par at most with Minsc, and this is also only one area of strength.

6. Jaheira

Jaheira's companion stats are nerfed from her NPC stats due to balancing, but interestingly this also changes her main stat. To me, her NPC stats are her 'canon' stats, but I do this the companion stats can also provide some insight into her overall constitution.

As a companion, Jaheira's main stat is a 17 in WIS, but as an NPC it is a 17 in CON, followed by a 16 in WIS. This backs up what I mentioned earlier about CON being partially mental fortitude as well as physical endurance.

Another weird change, as a companion Jaheria has a 10 in STR and a 14 in DEX, yet as an NPC her stats are again reversed in magnitude, with 15 STR and 14 DEX. There isn't really much to say about the order of these, but the high values in these stats just highlights that outside her generic druid build as a companion, Jaheira his very much a formidable warrior.

Having said this, as High Harper her job it likely 90% admin, diplomacy and telling people what to do rather than actual fighting and missions, with the exception of big stuff like the Cult of the Absolute.

Additionally, though in 5e there is some debate about half-elf lifespans, in the Baldur's Gate universe at least she is very much in the final decades of her life, and by her own admission past her prime. Even being the strong soldier that she is, at that age I can't imagine her stamina being quite as good as it may have been.

7. Minthara

Another NPC that gets nerfed when they become a companion, though the changes here are significantly less to write home about.

She's decently strong in all three relevant stats, though none of them are her main focus. DEX and CON both have their high values sacrificed when she becomes a companion.

She's also the only companion that has proficiency in heavy armour by default.

Having said this, she's not particularly heavily built, her background is in nobility rather than any sort of combat or athleticism, and a good portion of Paladins' power comes from their attacks being enhanced by spells rather than raw strength.

8. Shadowheart

We're getting to the companions that there really isn't much to talk about for.

She has decent relevant stats, as well as proficiency in both medium armour and shields, in addition to maces and morningstars, which are usually some of the heaviest one-handed weapons.

As a trickery domain cleric of Shar, she has trained in combat to a degree, and is by no means weak.

Having said that, she is small and lean and, most importantly, not a class that particularly has a need for a large amount of physical strength in pretty much any capacity.

9. Wyll

Wyll is the only character whose NPC stats are actually worse than his companion stats. Seriously, if this guy is supposed to be a hero and monster hunter already at the start of the game, why is he so weak?? That might be a bit harsh, he was probably also nerfed by the tadpole. Probably.

During the time of the game, pretty much the only thing going in his favour in terms of physical strength is his proficiency in shields, as his weapons of choice outside of spellcasting are also all lightweight weapons that, though obviously do have an element of strength to them, are generally more about skill and precision. Don't get me wrong, he is a skilled fighter, but strong he is not.

As the Blade of Avernus, if his pact is broken he is impied to become a ranger post-game, and archery, especially good archery, takes a good amount of strength, so he must have at least decent strength by the end of the game, even if his stats don't really change.

10. Weakest - Gale

The wizard? Squishy? Shocker.

Unlike Wyll and Astarion, I think his 8 in STR is more than justified, given he's a spellcaster with limited proficiencies and doesn't wear armour. He also has terrible movement speed, and has no physical endurance to speak of.

In terms of weapons, he is pretty much entirely limited to quarterstaves, which admittedly be quite heavy. Anyone can throw a big stick around, but to do so accurately... yeah, he can't really do that either.

I like to think the only reason he's physically built the way he is, is because of unhealthy weight loss caused by the orb, rather than any sort of actual muscle mass.