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#which i probably got for a bit less than this fabric
bookwormonastring · 2 years
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i just went to get fabric to make a half circle skirt and when i told my mum it was £17 she was surprised like that was a lot?? it’s exactly what i expected??? she was like ‘you could buy a skirt for cheaper than that’ yes and i would be wary of the ethics that went into making it😭
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ihavethedreamies · 3 months
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Ride a Tiger | San
Choi San - ATEEZ
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Rating: M (18+) MDNI
Word Count: ~6.3k
Pairing: Tiger-Hybrid!San x Deer-Hybrid!AFAB!Reader
Genre: Hybrid AU!, Historical/Joseon Era, Reader-Insert, Fluff, Smut, Some Plot, Strangers-to-Married
!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!
Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Swearing, Kissing, Biting/Marking, Bonding/Mating, Heat/Rut, Pheromones, Breeding Kink, Bath/Water Sex, Unprotected Sex (This is pre-birth control so…), Monster(?)!San (not really, he's a tiger hybrid)
Author's Note: Just so you know, this is NOT Omegaverse, but they do both go into rut/heat. They have animals ears and tails and he's got a spiny tiger cock. This is vaguely set in the Joseon Era of Korea, which is a pretty long time range. It is after the creation of hangul, so its post 1600s about. I only know a lot of this stuff from, and am copying from, historical/period dramas. I know in a lot of ways they aren't completely accurate, especially with women going around and not covering their heads/faces. This is not supposed to be accurate, by any means. Let me know if something is horribly wrong.
At the bottom I will have a guide for all the untranslated words I use, most of which are to do with the clothing they wear.
P.S. Should I be packing? Yes. I did this instead.
P.S.S. If anyone has a picture of San in traditional/historical clothes, could you get it to me with a link or something, I couldn't find anything with Google Images or Pinterest. GOT ONE
"He who rides a tiger is afraid to dismount." ~Chinese Proverb
-> Series Hub <-
🦁 Hongjoong's 🦁
🐕 Yeosang's 🐕
🐻 Jongho's 🐻
I am cross-posting this on Archive. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other site. Happy reading!
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When you had heard thunder rumbling in the distance earlier, you didn't think anything of it. You would be done before the rain came! Nope. You scrambled to gather all of the books you had laid out at your stand, getting them under the surface so they wouldn't get damaged. A giant flash of light followed closely by clap of thunder startled you, and you bleated, your long furry ears pressing back against your hair. Your short tail under your hanbok twitched, slightly rustling the fabric it laid under. Once all of the books you were selling were safe, you grabbed the sseugaechima you had and slung it over your head, stepping back toward the building you were in front of. It was some kind of accessories shop, but the roof awning was quite short and so you barely were able to hide from the downfall underneath it. People scrambled on the street to flee to rain, and the few of them that had coverings continued on their way normally. You peaked out from under your own covering, observing the sky best you could. It was clearly not going to end anytime soon; it was just that time of the year. You had no idea how you were going to get all the books back to your house. Your father didn't mind you working to copy and sell books for the local seller, but he wouldn't let you establish your own business. The seller you worked for also didn't have a store front himself and so the two of you would sell at stalls in the market.
You decided to wait just a bit longer, wondering if the shop owner of the building behind you would let you store the books for a bit. The street had more or less cleared out, but you watched a nobleman come closer. His clothes were nice, even nicer than yours, so his status was probably much higher. The gat he wore was adorned with a silk strap and the beading was clearly finely made as well. As you looked over him, the belt tying his jeogori accentuated his narrow waist and wide shoulders. Your eyes travelled up to his face and he was stunning. But also…he had tiger ears. As he got closer, you caught a glimpse of his long tail. Definitely a tiger. It was incredibly likely that the guy was not just nobility, he was possibly one of the princes. There were like eight of them so that wasn't too unlikely. Despite the downfall, he was simply strolling down the street, almost like there wasn't any rain. Since you were one of the few people still outside, he stopped in front of your seemingly empty stall. He lifted his head and his eyes met yours and you felt them widen. Instinct flared to life, your deer-like genes screaming at the sight of the predatory gaze. It wasn't that he was trying to scare or threaten you, he just simply was a predator hybrid, and you a prey.
"Have you nowhere to go to escape the rain?" He was definitely of high status, with not just tone but the exact words he used. You nodded dumbly, back pressing to the stone foundation of the building behind you. The sseugaechima over your head covered your deer-like ears and your tail was completely hidden by your hanbok.
"I-I have books to sell, and I don't want them to get wet." You pointed under the stall, and at the crate that held your wares. He made an 'ah' of acknowledgement. You wondered why he felt the need to stop at an empty stall.
"You might have to wait a while for the rain to stop." He looked up at the sky. You sighed, knowing he was right.
"Do you want me to help?" He offered and you flinched. Really?
"If you wish, my lord." You bowed a bit and he huffed.
"Shh. Pretend I'm not that important." His smile was much softer than you expected from a tiger. You nodded, not able to speak and he came around and you dragged the crate out, ready to use the sseugaechima to cover it.
"Use this." He corrected, taking the cloth that you had laid out on the wooden stall, and you wondered how frazzled you were that you forgot about it. He tucked the edges of the fabric over the books and easily lifted the crate. You moved around him so you could start to lead him home and you felt tense the whole time. Negating that he was a tiger and you a deer, he was clearly a nobleman, and he was doing physical work…Then again you were technically a noble yourself, and a female at that. Finally getting to the entrance for your family's estate, the door was open already and you waved for one of your father's guards to come and help. The guard took the crate from the tiger, bowing deep in respect and then dashing off to put your wares in your quarters.
"Thank you, my lord." You bowed again, sseugaechima still covering your head.
"San." he added, and your brow furrowed trying to wonder why he was talking about a mountain. Then it hit you, it was his name, he was one of the princes!
"Oh, yes, your highness. (Y/N)." You introduced yourself as well, staying bowed and making sure not to look at his face.
"Get inside and out of the rain Lady (Y/N)." He smiled and your eyes flitted to his gorgeous face. You bowed deeper and then dashed further into the courtyard and booked it to your quarters.
 ~*~*~
Looking up at the clear blue sky, you squinted at the tiny white cloud you could see. It had rained for nearly four days straight and therefore you couldn't set up your stall for that long. You didn't really have need for money since your father was…well, rich, but he didn't just give you pocket money to buy stuff for yourself. It was because you wanted books that weren't normally what noble women would read, you know, like things you could learn from. You had read more than your fair share of romances and adventures from copying them. After you had set out the final pile of books, you looked at your hand and rubbed your finger over the callus you got from holding the brush. Yes, it was painstaking, but you were extremely glad that you could use hangul, it would take ten times longer if you had to use hanja. Right as you got done setting up, two women strolled up and you continued your day.
About an hour before you would get ready to go home, you noted that you had done well for the day and had only about six books left, each a different one. Since it had slowed, you were sitting on a stool, people watching the few that were wandering around. It was nearing the evening mealtime, and you could smell the food from the restaurant down the road on the corner. Your stomach rumbled and you sighed deeply, ears drooping. You started to zone out a bit, watching some birds on the ground, not looking up when someone stopped.
"What is this one like?" the man asked, and you finally looked up so you could see which book he was pointing to.
"Hm, something about a servant seducing a nobleman's son…" You sniffed and looked up at the guy and startled. It was that prince from before. Even if you hadn't carved his face into your memory, it was a bit obvious from his tiger ears right under the brim of his gat. You immediately stood and bowed, and he looked around quickly.
"It's fine, I'm trying to lay low." He waved you off and your eyes caught sight of the black claw-like nails on the end of each finger. You risked glancing up at his face and he was smiling, dimples indenting his cheeks, your eyes focused on his large canine teeth. You felt your tail flick a few times, your skirt ruffling a bit. You felt his eyes moving over your face and your ear flicked at well, nervous under the gaze of his golden colored eyes. You froze when his arm moved, hand coming up and your eyes followed the movement till you couldn't see, and you felt a little tug on your earring.
"These aren't real." He made note of it, and you cringed. You had wanted real jade earrings, but you didn't have enough money, and so you had to settle with those instead. Your father might have bought those for you, but you really wanted them right then and there. You weren't even sure what they were actually made of.
"N-no." You bowed your head and he let them go.
"When do you leave?" His question startled you and your ear flicked again.
"In about an hour."
"Don't leave till I get back." He told you and he headed off further down the market road, back the way he came. You blinked after him, eyes wide, wondering what the heck that was all about.
You did as he asked though and waited for him to return. Glancing up at the sky, you had another ten minutes or so and he still wasn't back. If you didn't know he was one of the princes, you would have left, but he told you to stay. You still hadn't sold the rest of your books despite a few people stopping by, and so you started to put them in the crate. Looking down into the mostly empty container, you looked to the side and saw him coming. Even at a distance you could see his smile when he noticed you were still there, and he jogged to meet you sooner.
"You stayed."
"Well, you said to." You shrugged, not looking at his face. Part of it was because of his status, but it was also because he was so handsome. Too handsome, actually. You wondered if all the princes were so. You watched as he pulled something out from the interior pocket of his jeogori, a small but detailed wooden box coming out. He held it out to you, and you hesitated to grab it.
"Go ahead." He waved his arm a bit and you gently took it, lifting the hinged lid. You gasped, looking at the earrings inside. They looked nearly identical to yours, but they were obviously real jade.
"W-what?" You had to look at his face then, see what his expression was for some sort of explanation. His cheeks were a tiny bit red, and his own ear flicked some and you could see his long striped-tail swaying behind him.
"Your Lord Bak's daughter, from the Saseum Clan?"
"Y-yes?" He smiled a bit bashfully, looking down as he swung his leg around, drawing a circle with his foot.
"Could you take me to talk to him?" You nodded jerkily, a little shocked at the request. Before you could grab the crate, he took it, and you balled up the cloth from the stall and shoved it on top of the books. You walked next to him as you headed toward your home, feeling a bit weird, like you should be following him. You had never directly interacted with a prince, but you still knew the basic rules. Don't look at his face, walk behind him, don't be physically higher than him, speak formally… Yes, he was trying to lay low, but that didn't change who he was. You wondered who was genuinely ignorant enough to not know who he was since he was so obviously a tiger hybrid. When you showed up to the house with the same man carrying your book crate as the time before, your father's guard was a little skeptical. He still took the crate from the prince- San, his name was San, you remembered.
"Could you please get Lord Bak?" He asked and the guard's gaze flicked to you, and you gave a short nod. As he went to do so, you stood with the prince awkwardly, swaying just a bit so your skirt twirled a bit around you. Your ears were twitching so much that your old, fake earring jingled. Your arm twisted around your back so your hand could tug on the end of your braid, a nervous habit.
"(Y/N)? Who is this?" Your father came around the corner, strolling down the stone-paved path toward both of you. He glanced at San, and you cringed slightly at how much smaller your father was than him. His jeongjagwan was modified to fit around his antlers, only that put him at the same height as the prince.
"I am Prince San, Lord Bak. I have come to ask permission to court your daughter for marriage." You balked at this, turning to gape at him directly. Your head turned back to your father whose gaze had sharpened. You knew that there was a lot of noblemen that had brought their sons as potential suitors, and your parents had turned down every single one. Would San be different? You were lucky that your parents did take into consideration your opinion on most things.
"You are the fifth eldest, no?"
"Yes."
"Are your parents aware of your request?"
"Not yet, though I have been given more freedom since I am far down in the line of succession." It seemed the men were having another conversation through their eyes.
"Is that why you would be allowed to marry a prey hybrid?" The prince faltered for a reply, it seemed he hadn't even taken that part into consideration.
"I will need to request an audience with his highness." Your father answered and San seemed to deflate.
"What do you think of this?" Your father turned to look at you and you cast a nervous glance at the tiger next to you. You knew that you would have very little say in reality, and you wished you lived about a thousand years earlier. You know, before Confucianism ruined feminism. Though, the prince seemed to be very sweet, and he was extremely attractive. It could be way worse.
"If my lord finds it auspicious." You bowed your head a bit and your father hummed.
"Why don't you go back inside, (Y/N)?" The request was more of a command than a suggestion and you scurried off to do so. As you entered, your mother came down the hall and you met her.
"Geez, mother…" You led her to spin around, and she did, though with a confused look. Adjusting her binyeo so it was setting in her bun evenly, then she turned back to face you.
"Were you speaking with someone?" She peaked around you so she could look out the window, but she couldn't see.
"A suitor…" You told her and her long, furry ears perked up.
"I shall see then," she nudged past you and went to go out and you huffed a sigh, heading back to your room.
"(Y/N), your father requests your presence in the courtyard." A handmaiden came to summon you and you got up from your floor desk to follow her out. Your father was not alone, Prince San standing with him. It was only three days prior that your father had an audience with the king, and since the prince was there…
"Yes, father?" You came out and stopped before them, bowing at the waist some.
"It seems that it was auspicious…" Your father tossed a glance at the prince, and you looked up at both of them. Your gaze went to the tiger's handsome face, and he was beaming.
~*~*~
The next few weeks were a blur and before you knew it you had gone through the marriage ceremony, and you were moved into his own little palace that belonged to the greater palace grounds. Since he was one of the younger princes you shared a palace, whereas the queen and the crown princess had their own places. There was a place as well for any consorts that the royals might have as well, but it seemed San requested you to live with him. Honestly, you would think it quite impersonal for a husband and wife not to share a room and bed each night, but that seemed to be the norm for royalty. When you learned that even princes sometimes had consorts, you got a little insecure. What if you weren't enough?
"What's wrong, (Y/N)?" San's voice caught your attention and you turned to him as he entered. You had been standing in the middle of the room, just looking over everything, the room fairly barren compared to the overall size.
“I was just…” You stopped, trying to think of how to word it. He hummed for you to continue.
“I was just trying to soak in everything I’ve been told to learn.” You lied, not ready to bring the subject up quite yet. Your head was pounding from all the new information you had been pumped full with and you were nervous about messing up. Luckily since you were a noble already, you knew most of the rules and practices, but you were going to be under a bit harsher scrutiny. Not a bit, a lot. Your head felt strange, having your long braid looped up into a chignon braid, the jade binyeo holding it up making it feel heavier. The cheopji sitting on the middle of the top of your head was heavy as well, since it was gold. Your hanbok was of much higher quality and you felt nervous about getting it messy or torn somehow.
"(Y/N)?" He called your name again and you snapped out of your tumbling thoughts.
"Why did your eldest brother step down as heir?" You finally remembered the question you had wanted to ask him, before your insecurities started to spiral. You had heard some of the other women talking about it but didn't want to rely on gossip.
"Hm. The woman he fell in love with was too low in status. He abdicated so he could marry her. That's why Hongjoong is the crown prince."
"I see. The eldest is Seonghwa, yes?" San hummed and you sighed, racking your brain for all the names you had learned. There were too many. Finally, you looked over San…your husband. Just the thought made you a bit giddy. Even though it hadn't been very long since you two met, maybe about two months, you had endeared to each other. He was so sweet, contrasted greatly with the normal thoughts of how tigers were. Then again, he was a hybrid, not a full tiger. He was in a much different ensemble than what you met him in, more princely clothes. He didn't have any kind of headwear on then, just his manggeon and you could see the streak of orange and white in his hair to the right of the center of his head.
"Are you nervous?" he asked and your ears flicked. Not really sure what he was talking about, you just nodded. You were, but you weren't for sure in what way he meant. He stepped forward and his hands found your waist, your own landing on his chest. San pulled you closer and your ears pressed back against your head. Your nervous habit of tugging on your braid was going to have to be replaced since it was no longer hanging down your back. You let out a noise similar to a bleat when he hauled you even closer, his nose nuzzling against your ear.
"We get to make it official." he whispered and what he was getting at finally hit you. The consummation of the marriage. You were nervous, and a bit worried as well. You were told that predators had a much more aggressive…mating process. Plus, apparently, tiger hybrids were much like real tigers, and had 'barbs' on their… You were in your own thoughts; you could say whatever; they had barbs on their cocks. Plus, you were a good 30 centimeters shorter than your husband and he was just big overall. Your hands on his chest fisted, digging your fingers into the fabric and you squeaked when the claws on his hands dug into your own clothes enough you felt them against your hips. You shuddered as his slightly rough tongue ran up the side of your throat. Your heart rate spiked, nearly taking your breath away, some primal part inside of you freaking out.
"Your high-"
"It's just us, call me San."
"San, I-"
"Your highness!" A eunuch called from the other side of the door, and you pulled back. He reluctantly let you remove yourself from him and you turned away from the door as he turned toward it. He allowed the servant in, and you were informed that the bathing chambers were ready. After the eunuch stepped out and the handmaidens were waiting outside patiently, San went back to you.
"Why don't we be efficient and take a bath together?" He had wrapped his arms around you from behind and you were sure he felt your tail wag nervously even through the layers of fabric you both had on.
"C-can we?"
"Hm. I don't see why not. Not exactly traditional, but…I can get away with a lot." He chuckled and you felt it rumble through his chest pressed to your back. When he finally pulled back, you turned to him, face warm and he grinned.
"So cute." He nuzzled your ear again and then came back, leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. It was your first kiss as a married couple, not that you hadn't stolen a few leading up to that point. This one was different though and he nearly growled as he deepened the kiss. You squeaked, it was like he was trying to eat you and the obvious comparison was not lost on you. His tongue was rough against yours when it wiggled into your mouth and your head swam when his large canines clacked against your much smaller ones. When his lips let yours go, a trail of saliva connected your mouths and you let out a shaky breath.
"Go with the handmaidens and get ready, I'll join after." San pressed another kiss to your cheek and allowed you to leave his embrace. You stopped in front of the door, looking back at him again as the servant on the other side opened the door. He smiled warmly and you bit your lip giddily and then followed the maids to the bathing chamber. They carefully removed your garments and took your hair down, so it was still just in a braid, you didn't need to wash it yet. You were left in a simple white sokchima, not ready to be fully disrobed since San was still to come in. You heard his own servants getting him ready in the adjoining room and as soon as your maids left, the side door opened. He stepped in, closing it behind him and you gasped, eyes widening. Speaking of wide…his shoulders were so broad, especially compared to his waist. It was fairly obvious even when he was clothed, but right then he only had a pair of white sokbaji. His torso was toned as well and your mouth, still hanging open, started to water. Well, not really, but you were close. Feeling very small and delicate under his intense gaze, it softened when he noticed your shoulders were tense.
"Come here." San cooed, coming to meet you halfway and you let him hug you again, not able to help yourself placing your hands on his bare chest. His skin was smooth, and his muscles were hard and your thighs clenched as you practically stroked him. He chuckled and your eyes flitted up to his, ears flopping they were twitching so hard. His tail was sticking out the back of his pants, swaying slightly, his ears drooping just a bit.
"Can I take this off, (Y/N)?" The prince's voice was quiet but deep in your ear and his hands gripped the back of your sokchima.
"Y-yes." You did feel the amount of clothes was fairly unequal, but your final garment being removed would leave you completely bare. Shivering a tad as he pulled the tie open, the straps of the undergarment fell from your shoulders, then the rest of the fabric onto the floor. Your arms went to cover yourself, but his hands stopped you. Your face was hot, almost on fire and you could meet his gaze, ears no longer twitching but pressed back hard against your head. Your short tail was waving back and forth quickly, no longer impeded by any fabric over it.
"You're beautiful." San told you as he made sure you wouldn't cover yourself and he stepped back a tad, fingers going to the tie of his sokbaji. Your tongue ran nervously over your bottom lip, eyes immediately zooming in on his hands. He noticed your gaze's direction and he huffed a laugh but continued with his task. Your arm wrapped around your back, tugging on the end of your braid, now free of the pin holding it up that showed your wedded status. It was like time slowed down as he lifted the waistband up and over his half-hard cock and the fabric pooled on the floor as well and your eyes widened almost comically. You had never seem a man naked in person, only having seen what were basically medical diagrams in books. All you knew was that they probably weren't all that big, and he wasn't even fully hard. The little spines at the base and head of his cock were not quite like you imagined, unlike the barbed end of a fishhook you imagined. Your cunt clenched hard, and you swallowed hard as he stepped closer.
"Here." He grabbed your hand with his and brought it toward him. You both gasped when your small, warm hand wrapped around his cock, and you bit your lip as you pumped up with your fingers wrapped around him. You wondered if it would hurt with how thick he was, your fingers not even meeting, and you pondered what the flesh would feel like on your tongue.
"(Y/N)?" His amused voice pulled you from your thoughts and your head had to tip back to look him in the eye with how close you were. A drop splatted onto the floor, and you realized what it was when your slick thighs rubbed against each other. A rumble rose in San's chest and his nose nuzzled over your ear again, then down your throat and he inhaled deeply. The rumble picked up and his warm spiced scent grew stronger, and you felt his cock harden fully in your grip.
"Let's get in." You whined a bit in disappointment when he pulled back, but he took your hand and led you down the little steps into the water. It was nice and hot, but not too much so, flower petals floating in the water and carrying with them their sweet aroma. He sat on the bench that sat inside the large wooden tub and he hauled you into his lap, legs straddling his lap. You watched the wavy image of his tail through the water, your tail not able to wag as hard with the water resistance. As you rested on his lap, his hard cock pressed to your tummy and you pressed into it more, making him groan.
"You need to stop doing that if we're going to wait." His tone was a bit harder, his brow furrowing after your next press closer to him.
"Wait for what?" You gave him a coy look. You knew it would be "proper" to wait till you were actually in a bed to…bed each other, but…
"(Y/N), love, don't you want your first time to be-" He grunted when you leaned in, your breasts pressing into his chest, and he had to close his eyes to think.
"San, I don't care if you take me here, now, or in that bed. What matters is it's you." You rested your head on his shoulder, nose nuzzling his neck, your head feeling foggy as you breathed in his scent. You heard the water sloshing before you felt anything, but his strong arms had wrapped around you, lifting you up a bit. His lips crashed to yours as he maneuvered you, only pulling away so he could flip you around. Your back pressed to his chest and he had you rest your knees over his so he could hold your legs open. Even with the water of the bath, your slick was still stuck to your folds, and he groaned as he ran two fingers over you. Your whole body jerked, thighs twitching at the little bit of friction, already sensitive. San's arm held you to him as his index finger breached your entrance, your slick easily letting him in. You had noticed earlier that he had filed his claw-like nails down to blunt them, and now you knew why. You had expected a bit of a sting at his finger's entrance, but you only felt pleasure. You had…tested on yourself before, but his fingers were longer and thicker, and your head fell back over his shoulder as a second joined the first. He grinned, watching your cunt swallow his fingers, his tail sliding through the water to wrap over your thigh, holding it to his. San ground the palm of his hand against your clit and your gummy walls clenched around the digits inside and he heard you whine right into his ear. Under normal circumstances, your flitting ears and tail would tickle, but he could use them to tell just how you were reacting.
"S-San!" You gasped, the pleasure he was bringing over you rising fast and your blunt nails dug lightly into his arm where you gripped it.
"Good girl, (Y/N). Fall apart for me." His prompting words led you to your climax and he rumbled as your cunt clenched and pulsed as your orgasm hit. When the little twitches finally died, your body slumped into his, he removed his fingers and helped move you once more. You faced him again and your nails dug harder into his shoulders as he held you over him, the head of his cock rubbing through your folds.
"Ready, princess?" He smirked a bit at the pet-name, though it was completely and officially accurate now.
"Please." You leaned down and kissed the corner of his mouth and down his neck. San grunted and your grip on him tightened as he pressed you down, fat cock finally breaching your entrance. It stung, burned in the best way though, the rubbery spines of his cock flicking against your clit as he finally got the head all the way in. The rest of his dick followed a bit easier, but each little increment deeper, the spines rubbed against the ridges of your cunt. He was only halfway in when you threw your head back, breath harsh, chest heaving at the sensation of him splitting you open. Your cunt spasmed and pulsed, you were already close, heat pooling and growing in your groin and lower stomach. Your flowery scent filled the air even more than the petals in the water, the pleasure and pheromones your husband were letting off spurring you into a semi-heat. Immediately, your cunt slicked even further, the thick wet not able to be washed away by the water. As he started to bottom out, the spines at the base of his cock flicked over your clit and against the folds of your pussy and you shuddered hard as your groin met his. San barely shifted and that was all it took, your second orgasm hitting quicker and harder than the first. His growl rumbled through his chest, you and the room as your cunt clenched hard around him.
"Fuck-" You swore softly and hearing the vulgar word leave your soft, sweet lips made him groan.
"Are you okay, love?"
"J-just give me a second." You were still shuddering in his arms, tiny waves still pulsing through your cunt.
"I can't last much longer." He warned and you shifted once yourself, pressing your knees harder into the bench of the bath and you nodded jerkily. You were prepared…well, you thought you were. San's arms around you tightened, almost to hold you in place, and he lifted you off his cock some, the pumped up his hips, fucking back into you deep. Your head flew back so hard he was a bit concerned, but he continued his thrusts, not even pulling out halfway before filling you once more. The water sloshed around you, your tail wagging hard through the water, his own wrapped around your right thigh.
"Shit-" He grunted, pressing you to him and standing. You yelped at his movement but then he lightly rested you against the rounded edge of the wooden tub. He reached past your head for a towel and balled it under your head.
"San?" You didn't get an answer to your prompting tone, and your breath hitched as he hauled your legs up to wrap around his narrow waist. One hand rested against your thigh to hold your leg up, the other taking your hand from his shoulder and lifting it up above your head. His fingers linked with yours, holding your hand tightly as his lips hovered over yours.
"Hold on, princess." He more or less warned, and your other hand flew to the narrow wooden column near you, barely getting a hold on it before he snapped his hips, relentlessly barreling his cock into you, head battering your back walls. You let out a choking sound, followed by unintelligible whimpers and babbles, your next orgasm rising already. With each thrust, he ground his hips down, the spines at the base of his cock teasing your clit and he didn't even slow down as your third orgasm crashed over you. If anything, it made him go harder, the water around his legs sloshing hard. He was full on growling at that point, tongue running over his long canines, a drop of saliva falling past his lips and into your mouth, gaping open, drool dripping from the side. Your eyes rolled back as his pace seemed to pick up, the thrusts somewhat shallower but even harder.
"Fucking hell, love, you're taking me so well." San rumbled, watching his fat cock split you open, the shine of your slick and cum on his cock made his head swim.
"Want me to cum inside? Fuck my cub into you?" He laughed cockily; eyes fixed on the joining of your bodies. You both weren't even sure how easy it would be for you to conceive, and he honestly didn't care if you couldn't. He was so far down the line of succession himself, let alone his kids. Though, if it was harder, that just meant he could try all the harder.
"Please! San, want your cum!" You whimpered, neither of you caring anymore if the servants heard the filth spilling from your mouths.
"Gonna make you my mate too, my wife…" He growled and his thrusts grew unsteady, his nose nuzzled your neck again and your breath hitched as the sharp ends of his canines met your skin. Your blunt nails dug into the wood of the column, hand gripping his hard as he finally fell over the edge himself. His teeth sank in as he came, white, hot spurts of cum coating your walls and filling your womb. Your orgasm helped him ride out his, core gripping him hard, eagerly drinking in his seed. You felt like you almost blacked out, brain clearing some as he stopped, licking over the bite wound in your shoulder. He pulled back enough to look down at your worn-out body, face red and splotchy but still so cute, so pretty. And you were all his.
The next few minutes passed with a blur; all of the servants being called to leave the hallway leading from the bath to your bedchambers. You only realized you had changed location when the still-wet skin of your back hit the silk sheets, and San was filling you back up. You had nothing to hold onto, so you white knuckled the sheet of the futon under you. Your legs were thrown over San’s wide shoulders, ankles by his ears, and animalistic noises were leaving him. He was salivating like a hungry…well, tiger, growls turning into near roars. You weren’t sure how many more orgasms he fucked out of you before he filled your womb with even more of his seed. Your mind was nearly gone, only little squeaks leaving you as you flipped you over, hips raised in the air, chest pressed to the bed below. His giant cock, with all those blasted spines, carved into you, and your cunt clenched hard, molding to him. You were both a mess already, the bath having been nearly negated. Sweat dripped from his brow onto your bare back, a thick mix of your releases coating both your thighs and forming a puddle below. A dark stain from the tears caused by the overwhelming sensations and drool formed below your cheek. Even with his claws blunted, they tore into the bedding some as he leaned over you, hips pumping hard, the slap of skin muffled by his grunts.
“One more for me, princess. Gonna get you pregnant, keep you stuffed full till you do.” He chuckled, pace stuttering, and your vision spotted as he came once more, squirts and sprays of your own release soaking his groin further. Soon, all that could be heard was both of your panting breaths and you were having trouble staying awake, all strength leaving your body. That was when something terrifying hit you…he was still hard.
hanbok - traditional/historical clothing, most people think of women's dresses, but men's clothes were called this as well. sseugaechima - this is the extra-skirt looking garment women would wear over the heads. gat - this is the hat that noblemen would wear, more specifically the ones that were black and made of mesh. jeogori - the top/shirt part of a hanbok. hangul - the Korean alphabet we use today. hanja - the old Korean characters derived from Chinese used prior to Hangul's creation. jeongjagwan - a type of gat that noblemen would wear, it looks much like a pagoda. binyeo - the long pin that would hold a woman's bun up, mostly used for married women. cheopji - a hair accessory worn by women, looks similar to a headband with a clip or pin in the middle. manggeon - the mesh-like headband men wore to hold their hair in place sokchima - basically a dress/skirt like under-garment. sokbaji - pants-like under-garment, mostly worn by women actually...
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er-osion · 3 months
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Stay (in my life)
pairing: Jason Todd x gn!Reader
summary: Red Hood comes back to your apartment for a patch job again, but his injuries are a bit more severe this time so he accepts your offer to stay over
word count: 4.3k
warnings: blood, fairly detailed descriptions of injuries, fluff
author’s note: sorry this one’s a little long ya’ll, i got a bit carried away. hope you guys enjoy. you can read part one here.
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“Holy shit, you look terrible!” You gasp as you take in Red Hood’s battered form as he clumsily steps over to your couch.
“Thanks, you look great too.” Hood grits out in reply as he slumps into the cushions. You hurry to grab your med kit and rush over beside him.
“You’re getting blood all over my couch, Hood.”
“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’m really good at getting stains out.”
“I hope you’re also really good at surviving what appears to be multiple stab wounds and severe burns.”
“You’d laugh at that statement if you knew my background.”
“We’re gonna have to move this to the bathroom, I need better lighting and access to the sink.”
“I just sat down.” Hood exasperated.
“You know it’s not far.” You rolled your eyes at his words but couldn’t fight the rising anxiety at his condition. On instinct, you got up and held out your hand for him to take. Hood moved his head to look at your hand.
“Considering my size and condition, I don’t think you’re gonna be much help getting me off this couch by yourself.” He noted, unimpressed.
You narrowed your eyes at him but kept your hand where it was, “It’s more the sentiment. However, in your condition you might very well need all the help you can get walking the short distance to my bathroom.” Hood paused but set his gloved hand in yours. It was dirty with dust and what you assumed was blood and gripped tightly, probably more so than he realized, but you paid no mind with your thoughts wrapped up in Hood’s less than favorable state. The vigilante got up slowly from your couch and he wobbled to and fro once he was on his feet. The two of you started to move carefully to your bathroom, which was just down the hall, but Hood seemed to be more injured than you initially thought because his knees suddenly became weak and you both had to make a combined effort to catch him.
“Did you hit your head tonight?” You ask as Hood tried to restabilize himself.
“You asking if I have a concussion?” Hood responded.
“That’s exactly what I’m asking, yes.”
“It’s highly probable. I was thrown against a cement wall pretty hard.” Hood moved and wrapped one of his large arms around your shoulder for more support, immediately putting more of his weight onto you. The man was heavy beyond belief, but he did his best not to pile his muscle mass on top of you. The arm around your shoulders was secure and his hand gripped the fabric of your t-shirt tightly. Hood groaned while he settled more into you and you began walking again. Despite your rampant mind, your heart hammered in your chest at the contact and you felt the skin touching his arm dance. By some miracle, the two of you made it to your bathroom, and you did your best to help Red Hood down onto the floor in front of your bathtub.
“Can you just start listing off all your possible injuries while I get all my supplies out?” You asked Hood while you opened the first aid kit. Hood complied, and started listing off all the places he suspected was injured during his patrol tonight. You noticed, though, that his words sometimes got slurred and his sentences kept drifting off —in other words, he didn’t seem all there. “Are you sure you don’t have a concussion?” You probed.
“Told you, it’s very possible. What do you think, doc?” Hood shot back.
“In all honesty, I suspect you have a concussion. Maybe not a severe one, but a concussion is still bad no matter the level. How does your head feel, where it got hit?”
“It hurts.”
“No shit Sherlock, but I was hoping for a more detailed answer.”
“I guess it’s kind of a dull pain? Not like a migraine, but it also hurts in my neck and back of the head.”
“Okay, I think we need to deal with your head first.” You stopped when you realized the implications of your words. You’d need his helmet off to examine his head for any open wounds, you’d never seen Red Hood with his helmet off. Hood seemed to realize this at the same time since you saw him tense suddenly. Neither of you moved or said anything for a couple seconds, trying to figure out how to proceed. You quickly tried to remedy the awkwardness, “Look, I know I’m not supposed to see your face, I’m just concerned about your head but the last thing I want to do right now is push your boundaries, so if taking off the helmet is a no-go we’ll figure something else out.”
Red Hood shook his head, “No, you’re right, as usual. I trust you won’t go mouthing off about what the Red Hood’s face looks like.” He teased as he moved his hand up toward his helmet. You heard a clicking noise and a quiet hiss and felt your body still with anticipation. Hood slowly removed the helmet and you saw him peel off a domino mask underneath.
When his face was bare and uncovered in front of you, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. He’s beautiful. Red Hood was the most gorgeous man you’d ever seen. His eyes a mystifying swirl of green and blue, dim with exhaustion but there was still this inexplicable unnatural glow to them. His hair —while slightly matted from the helmet— looked deliciously soft, the color of the night sky with a bold white streak at the front. There was a long thin scar connecting one of his eyebrows to his pale pink lips. You were speechless as you took in Hood’s face, trying to wrap your head around how someone could look that goddamn beautiful. It really wasn’t fair. Your heart was racing out of your chest and you were having trouble maintaining a steady breath while you gazed at his features. Red Hood noticed your stare and shifted a little uncomfortably under your gaze, his gemstone eyes gluing themselves to the ground.
“You gonna stare at my face all night, or are you gonna fix me up?” His voice snapped you back to reality.
“Right right, sorry. I just… wasn’t expecting to finally learn what you looked like tonight… got caught up in the surprise I guess.” You tried to cover your embarrassment and scooched closer so you could examine his head. You looked around and felt very gently for any bumps or wounds. “Hood, you’re bleeding at the back of your head.” The worry in your voice was prominent.
“That would help explain the dizziness.”
Your lips pulled into a line and you started to clean his head wound as carefully as you could, and then wrapped it gently with a bandage. You then made the vigilante promise not to fall asleep on you while you worked on the rest of his injuries. The rest of his body made the head injury look like a splinter. Multiple abrasions were littered across his torso, the molested skin was red with blood and irritation. You could see small bits of debris lodged in the surface of his cuts and abdomen. The slashes on his arms were in a similar state. As if the knife assaults weren’t enough, spots of his body were marred with blistering burns the color of bright red and white. Your heart stung at the obvious pain your hero must be in. No one deserved this, especially not Hood. Your eyebrows furrowed deeper with concern and your frown carved further into your face.
You were startled out of your thoughts when a thumb brushed between your eyebrows, forcing the furrow to even out. You blinked, and shot your gaze up to the owner of the hand. Hood was looking at you with green eyes that were clouded with emotions you couldn’t pinpoint. He had been frowning, but when you locked eyes, the edge of his lips quirked upward ever so slightly. “Keep that face up and you’ll get wrinkles before you’re thirty.” He teased as his thumb once again brushed between your brows, to further his point.
You huffed and shook your head slightly, but not too much to force his hand off of your face. “Keep coming here on the brink of death at 2 am and I definitely will.” You fired back with the ghost of a smirk. Neither of you felt the need to say anything more, Hood’s hand lingered at the top of your head for a brief moment before he retracted it back to his side. You instantly missed the contact. But, you turned your attention back to the task at hand and began caring for Hood’s various other injuries. You used tweezers to fish out the pebbles that had burrowed into his skin and then cleaned the subsequent areas with water and your saline solution. You looked at each cut to determine if it needed stitches or not. For the ones that did, you warned Hood of your plans each time and made extra careful work of numbing the areas before stitching his wounds neatly and efficiently.
Jason watched you in a daze. He could never get over how well you handled everything. Even though he knew you were worried and filled with anxiety, you worked calmly and with composure. You were focused and didn’t let your fears rule your movements, something he greatly appreciated as the one with the injuries. Jason hadn’t planned for any of this to happen. He hadn’t planned for tonight’s ambush to go so wrong, he hadn’t planned to hobble into your apartment nearly blind with pain and dizziness, and he certainly hadn’t planned to take both of his masks off in front of you. Sure, the two of you had been getting closer as of late. After your offer to host him even on nights he wasn’t injured, Jason had been showing up to your apartment a couple nights out of the week to make dinner and watch tv with you. In the past few weeks, Jason had been relishing in the change in your dynamic. Just existing in the same space as you put Jason’s head into a flurry, but in the most exciting way. The best part of his day has been visiting you these last few weeks. And of course, each time he’s entered your place he’s thought about removing the helmet and allowing you to get closer to him in a way he hasn’t let anyone in years. But each time, he’s stopped himself in fear. Fear of what exactly? Fear of putting you in danger, fear of scaring you, fear of disappointing you. Jason Tood would not be able to handle it if any of those things occurred. But there’s no time like the present, as they say. At least you didn’t flinch when you saw him. He couldn’t exactly figure out what you were thinking (whether it was positive or negative) but it wasn’t disgust he saw on your face, so a win is a win.
The black-haired man is suddenly overtaken with words and spits out without realizing, “I’m Jason, by the way.”
You freeze and look up at him questioningly. “I’m sorry?”
“My name, it’s Jason.”
“Oh! Okay, Jason…” You test the weight of his name on your tongue, “Jason, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” You conclude with a genuine smile.
Jason’s entire stomach has just done at least 20 flips. His heart is beating so hard and loud in his chest he hopes you don’t hear it. The man never knew a person could say his name so sweetly. He never knew his name could be uttered without any hint of malice by someone outside of his family. Your pronunciation of his name is echoing in his mind like bells to a dizzying effect. He’s been a fool. He’s been such an idiot. How could he let fear prevent him from lifting his helmet and telling you his name, when he could’ve been hearing the beautiful way you say it all this time? Jason realizes he’s left you verbally hanging for a good minute just staring, so he clears his throat and adverts his eyes. “The pleasure is all mine.” When Jason looks back at you, he sees your smile is still plastered on your face and it gives him a strange sense of pride.
“I want you to know though, I know the mask was probably a lot tonight. I don’t want to force you to say or give up anything for my sake, I’m the one treating you. I’m so glad you trust me enough with your face and name, but I don’t want you to think I need it to help you, Jason. I’d fix you up even if you came in here one day as a bat-Frankenstein.” You’re worried you might’ve pushed him too far tonight. You don’t want Ho—Jason, to think you’re only out to discover his secret identity. You want him to understand that you’d care for him no matter the circumstances, whether you knew his face and name or not.
All at once, Jason felt his throat close up and tears brimming his eyes. Do you know what your words mean to him? Do you know how instantly you make him feel loved? Jason is so certain he is undeserving of your kindness and understanding, but here you are giving it to him freely. Will you ever understand the effect you have on him? How you heal pieces of his soul he thought long shattered. Jason’s full, pink lips quiver into a small smile. A smile of profound gratitude, appreciation, and sadness.
“Angel, it’s long overdue. You’re right on one thing though, I do trust you. I trust you far more than my colleagues would probably advise, but I do so anyway because I can’t do anything else. I keep invading your life in sharp broken pieces and asking you to pick me up off the floor, even at risk of hurting yourself. Yet, you do it each time with a grace Shakespeare wishes he could write about. The fact I want you to understand is that; if I didn’t want you to see my face or know my name, you wouldn’t. End of story. But that’s not the case, so it isn’t the end of the story. You’re not pushing me. And to know that you’d fix me up even if I did end up a bat-Frankenstein, is some of the most relieving news I’ve had all month.” Jason had to end his monologue with a small tease, worried his vulnerability would be too obvious without it. You listen to his words with so much intent you’ve forgotten the rest of the world. An invisible hand is squeezing your heart to the point it hurts. You can only take shallow breaths and you feel as though you might tear up.
“Well then, let’s finish fixing you up.” Your words come out barely a whisper and you go back to tending to his wounds. But neither of you can ignore the change in the air. The swift shift into a heavy lull that keeps a smile on both of your faces. You realize you’ll be done treating him soon and a wave of panic rises in you. He can’t leave now, not after everything we just left unsaid. But he leaves every time I finish taking care of him, without wasting a second. Then, an idea comes to mind. One you’ve conjured up multiple times in the past but never really entertained because of its unlikeliness to occur. It’s a risk, for sure. It’s very possible you mess it up and ruin the evening, but things have gone smoothly thus far and the success has given you a boost in confidence. Plus, you are still majorly concerned for his health, so you brave the question once you’ve completed the last bandage.
“I’m done wrapping your injuries, but that in no way means you’re recovered. I know you’re probably anxious to get back to your safe house or whatever, but you’re a severe liability in your condition.”
“So what do you suggest?” Jason asks with a skeptically raised eyebrow.
“…Um well, I was going to offer —and it’s perfectly acceptable if you say no— but I was going to offer you stay over here for the night, to have somewhere to lie down without having to brave Gotham at night with a concussion and several broken ribs.” You refused to meet Jason’s eyes as you offered him to stay the night, so you missed how they widened in surprise and then lit with anticipation.
“Yeah that— um, I—” Jason coughed awkwardly, something you’ve never seen him do but find endearing, “I mean yeah, that’s probably a good idea. Not sure I could make it a block without collapsing. But you uh— you sure you don’t mind?” Jason’s voice softens in volume at the end of his query.
“I wouldn’t be offering if I did.”
“Fair point.” You smiled at his acceptance of your invitation, secretly giddy at the idea of him spending the night. “But um, I don’t really have anything for you to change into.”
“Understandable. I have my compression shorts on though so I’ll be fine.” Jason assures you and you nod your head. You then help him up off of the bathroom floor. Jason once again lays his arm around your shoulders for support and your stomach twists into knots. The two of you say nothing as you move toward your bedroom. Jason helps open the door with his free arm so you can shimmy your two bodies through the opening. Jason suddenly feels very awkward and misplaced inside. He’s never seen your room before, and to do so now feels so intimate it makes him light headed. This is the most personal space in your entire apartment and it is just now striking Jason that this is where he’ll be sleeping since you don’t have a guest room. Too lost in his racing thoughts, the vigilante doesn’t notice you’ve helped him to sit down on the edge of your bed. You reluctantly pull away from his grip around your shoulders to go turn on your bedside lamp, immediately feeling the absence of his body heat. Jason is pulled back into reality at the loss of contact and is hit with the need to say something but he searches for words with no avail.
It’s you who breaks the silence in a quiet but firm voice, instinctively not wanting to ruin the quiet air of the room. “You can sleep in here tonight. I’ll be in the living room if you need anything. If you get thirsty or hungry please help yourself to anything in my kitchen. The bedroom door locks too, just in case that’d make you more comfortable. Like I said though, if you need anything just come grab me, I’ll be on the couch.” You turn to leave him in privacy, but Jason quickly speaks up.
“You’re gonna sleep on the couch?” He asks incredulously.
“Well that is the only other option.” You affirmed with a raised eyebrow.
“No no no. It’s your house, you can sleep in your bed. I’ll take the couch.” Jason started to get up, but you could see him straining with each movement. You rushed over and gently but forcefully pushed him to sit back on the bed.
“Yeah, no. You are the one who’s severely injured, I’m not letting you sleep on a couch in your state. I really don’t mind anyways, it’s just one night.”
“Well I refuse to make you sleep on a couch in your own home, you already sacrifice enough just letting me in here.” You were about to protest his use of the word ‘sacrifice’ before Jason continued, with a suggestion that made you still. “We could… we could share the bed? I mean— it’s big enough for two people and we’re both apparently too stubborn to let the other one sleep in the living room.” Jason’s lake green eyes scanned your face for any sign of disgust or hesitation, his palms felt sweaty and he suddenly felt like an idiot for even suggesting such a thing.
You were frozen, the cogs turning in your head at the implications of his offer. Your heart was racing. The two of you sleep in the same bed? You had just learned his name, and now you two would be sharing a bed? You tried to stop yourself from feeling so excited at the idea. Jason took your silence for uncertainty and continued blabbering, “We’re both adults, right? I don’t mean anything by it, I just— I don’t want you getting a bad night's sleep on your couch, and your stubborn ass clearly won’t let me sleep anywhere that isn’t a real bed so… I don’t know, maybe it was a dumb suggestion. You can forget about it, I’ll take the couch—”
You interrupted him with a burst, shaking your hands in front of you to keep Jason from getting up. “Oh, no no no. It’s fine, it's fine. Really, it’s cool. We can— we can share the bed I don’t mind. It’s a smart idea. Just, ya know, be careful with your stitches and bandages. I’d hate for you to worsen any injuries in your sleep.” You tried to sound calm and collected, but really you were shaking with excitement and nerves. Jason just nodded slowly, still looking a little unsure at your agreement, but he moved to step out of his armor anyway.
You walked over to your side of the bed, and started fiddling with random nick nacks on your nightstand to try and appear busy while Jason got undressed behind you. Lord almighty, it was taking every ounce of your strength not to look behind you and oogle at what you knew were rippling muscles. “Focus, gotta get through this night without making a fool of yourself.” You thought as you felt the bed dip on the other side, signaling Jason was ready to sleep.
With that, you turned the lamp off and slipped underneath the covers. Jason copied you wordlessly and you both laid in the dark, staring at the ceiling in silence. The air was so thick with tension it was near suffocating, but the two of you were too scared to speak and break the spell of the night. You unconsciously let out a little sigh and turned on your side so your back was facing Jason. You closed your eyes to try and force yourself to sleep, but your mind was hyper vigilant at this point. You could feel the bed dipping to accommodate Jason’s gigantic form on the other side. You weren’t used to sharing this space with anyone, and the fact that you could feel his breath through the mattress had your mind in a frenzy. You were fighting every fiber of your being that was telling you —no, begging you to move closer to the man beside you.
Jason was pleading with the universe in hopes that you couldn’t hear how his heart was thundering in his chest. For someone who’s lying down, his breathing sure is quick. Jason thought this would be enough. Just having you near by, occupying the same space, he thought that’d be enough to satisfy his urge to be near you. But for some goddamn reason, it’s making it worse. How can you be so close yet so far? How much closer can he get before he crosses a line? Jason blames his exhaustion for his next move.
Out of nowhere, you feel something heavy curl around your waist. Your eyes pop open in surprise, and you have to force your body to be still. Jason uses the arm draped across your middle to pull you closer to him. Your back presses against his solid chest and you forget what it was ever like to be cold. You can feel warmth seeping into your skin from every point of contact between the two of you. You can feel each breath Jason takes pushing into your back and you can feel the speeding rhythm of his heart, which you’re sure is close to the speed of your own. Your lips have curled into a smile and you’re fighting off a sigh of contentment.
“Is—is this okay?” Jason’s question comes out in an unsure whisper. If you hadn’t been so close you wouldn’t have heard him.
“Yeah, this is okay.” You reassure at an equal volume, worried that being any louder would shatter the moment. Your smile has evolved into a full on grin.
“Okay.” Jason mutters and then presses his head into the curve of your neck. His muscular arm tightens around your waist and his hand grips your shirt gently. You subconsciously shuffle further into him, though, you didn’t think there was anyway you could physically get any closer. Still, any space left between the two of you was eliminated. Your two breaths became one as your heartbeats synced up. You could feel Jason’s warm breath against your neck and it sent shivers down your spine. Jason felt so warm and happy, here with you in his arms. Holding you felt like a reward he didn’t deserve. He only hopes he’ll be able to do this again…and again, and again, and again.
You’ve never felt so safe as you do in Jason’s arms. It’s almost euphoric, being like this with him. You never want this moment to end, but the warmth of Jason’s embrace is quickly dragging you under the spell of sleep. You hope you wake up with him in the morning, you hope this isn’t a dream. You two have probably crossed some sort of line tonight, not that either of you care right now. The unclear nature of your relationship with the vigilante is something for you to wrestle with in the morning. For now, you’ll fall asleep wrapped in Jason’s arms, with the happy thought that he’ll surely be coming back to do this again.
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nothorses · 1 year
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I hope this is okay to ask but I’m pretty desperate and googling stuff has failed me, so do you or one of your followers have recommendations on how to deal with the BO that comes with taking testosterone? I never had BO that couldn’t just be managed by showering enough and putting on just any deodorant but now that I’m taking T I sweat a lot and I smell bad and I nothing I do seems to fix it. My boss has politely mentioned it several times now despite all my effort and it’s so mortifying and embarrassing.
Things I’ve tried and am currently doing include so many different deodorants which I bring to work and reapply, putting baking powder in my shoes, on top of general basic hygiene. But none of it seems to make a dent and it doesn’t help that I can’t really change clothes or shoes throughout the day. I have to wear closed toed shoes and a lab coat and my job is pretty active, plus it’s 10 minutes walk from the parking lot and it’s over 100F or 40 C right now so when I arrive at work I’m already pouring sweat. I also have a large chest so it all gets under my bra and soaks into it and by the end of the day the bottom part of my bra reeks.
I know some ocasional BO on a busy day can’t be helped but none of the other people at work including other male coworkers seem to have the same issue at all, so there’s got to be a solution but I haven’t found it. Im thinking of trying antiperspirants but I also know I need to sweat and I would rather not put my health at risk. So if anyone has something that works for them please let me know bc im really desperate here.
First I want to say: you're not doing anything wrong. You probably just sweat more than some other folks, and that's not your fault, and you shouldn't feel bad about it. I'm gonna give you some ideas to try if you haven't yet, but I don't know how much you've already tried, and it sounds like you've been through a lot already.
I also have always had terrible BO, and the only thing that helped at all pre-T was "prescription strength" deodorant. I honestly have had less of an issue since starting T, weirdly enough, but part of that is also that I physically cannot stand to shower any less frequently than every single morning (not necessarily a good thing lol), and I also started using antibacterial products on my armpits when I shower.
Currently I use benzoyl peroxide body wash on my armpits, which can be drying, but it hasn't caused me issues so far (just look for Panoxyl, other brands have caused irritation for me and my partner both). I used Betadine surgical scrub before that for a bit (you collect weird shit when you work with horses 🤷‍♂️) and that worked well, too- plus it's less likely to irritate skin.
I also find that certain shirts cause me to sweat there more, and those also tend to be the more form-fitting shirts that get up into my armpits. That skin def needs to breathe.
My partner has had trouble with feet/shoes in the past, and he's used cedar shoeforms to mitigate that (cedar is also antibacterial!). He also makes sure any shoes he gets are breathable (not leather), and if they are leather, he gives them at least a day or two between wears. Probably good practice if you notice any kind of smell on any of your shoes.
You mention baking powder, and I'm not sure if you meant baking soda and just mixed them up (which I do all the time lmao) but just in case: if you are using baking powder, the one you want is baking soda.
I don't have much advice for chest sweat, except that you may want to consider bringing an extra bra (and maybe an extra pair of socks if you're noticing it before the end of the day) to change into midway through the day. You can also look for more breathable fabrics in general, especially athletic-wear, which is already designed to help wick sweat and mitigate those issues.
Lastly, I want to stress again that you're not doing anything wrong. Some people have more trouble with this than others, and if you're really struggling in a way nobody around you is, it may be that you've got something going on in your body that they don't have to deal with. This could be a medical thing as well (like acne!!), and there's no shame in seeking medical solutions for it. Talk to your doctor if you can; it sounds like it's causing you distress, and you deserve to be comfortable.
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eye-f0r-an-eye · 6 months
Text
vessel's pre-venue jitters [nsfw - gn!reader]
-had to pause writing my lewis fic cause i listen to sleep token while i write and had a wicked idea pop into my head. now i can't stop thinking about vessel having mad anxiety before a show and the reader, who's also in the band, helping him calm down-
(i did not plan this out, i wrote it all on the spot, i just needed to get this out of my brain - i'm still prioritising my lewis fic)
word count: 887
cw: nsfw, swearing, sub!vessel, dom!reader, oral sex (m!recieving), reader's anatomy is not mentioned, no use of y/n, first fic posted! - author doesn't know what else to put here????
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god i want him to mount me like thatfjsgtrwdsgvfyuiuh
you were a part of the band and served as a second guitarist next to iv, and you were always quite close to vessel - in ways that the others would always tease you about. although, you kept assuring them that there was nothing between you both, even when you used little petnames with each other.
you were searching for vessel right before a show to seek validation for a quirky idea you had about a little something you could do on stage. you never made rash decisions on the spot for fear you'd mess up the performance, very unlike the others.
you find vessel, still in one of the dressing rooms behind stage rather than getting ready to go out and perform.
you then notice that he's facing away from and has got his head against the wall, muttering small things to himself, and shaking slightly.
you approach to ask him what's wrong, to which he jumps a little, clearly not expecting you of all people to find him here.
"just... gimme a minute... get out there, i'll follow later..."
you're not having it. you make him sit down and notice the light sheen of sweat on his neck, which is already testing the integrity of the black body paint coating his skin. and he hasn't even done all his little dancey dances yet!
you ask him again what's up with him, kneeling down in front of him to appear less intimidating. he simply sighs. his shaky hands reach for yours, searching for that anchor to ground himself.
"just a bit nervous, love..." he mumbled as his hands interlocked with yours. "dunno why..."
you do your best to comfort him but none of your words seem to work, he always has a negative thought step in and frustratingly deflect your consolation with it's iron shield of self-deprecation.
as the time ticks quickly and you've now likely just less than 10 minutes before you have to go out on stage, and you definitely can't let him go out there like this. you need to release his tension somehow.
it's in this moment when you abandon your value of not making rash, on-the-spot decisions.
you slip your hands out from his, roll your mask up just above your nose, and begin make quick work of his belt, which ultimately made him panic a bit more.
"shit- w-what are you doing?!" he tried to stop you, but you simply swatted his hands away and began to shimmy his pants down his thighs.
you shushed him, telling him to just lay back and focus on the sensations. you assured him that you'd ease his nerves.
was it his fault that he trusted you?
he definitely goes commando under the costume, fucking fight me, i will die on this hill. he's also like 7-8 inches, yet you still believe you can take him all when you watch the length of it roll out like a red carpet.
you feasted on both his fat cock and the little moans you illicit out of him with stripe you lick up his long shaft, enticed as you witness him go from soft to rock hard after mere moments of you touching him.
your hand rested on his thigh while your other was tenderly fondling his balls as you suckled on his swollen, leaky tip. it was a struggle for him to keep quiet, who knows who could be lurking outside the unlocked door of the dressing room.
he could probably pass it off as him practicing his vocals should anyone have heard him.
his hand came up to nest on top of your head, gripping at the fabric of your mask as you slowly begin to take an inch of him into your mouth.
he struggles not to buck up and fuck the ever-living shit out of your throat.
you make quick work of him, taking as much of him in as you can, wasting no time in sucking him off. he softly whimpers out your name.
he finishes quickly with a loud stifled moan, you made it hard for him not to when you're bobbing up and down on his length like that, your tongue flattened, and your cheeks hollowed to optimise his pleasure.
he shoots his fat load deep down your throat, you swallow it all gratefully. your mouth pops off his cock, which is beginning to soften as he pants. he's certainly a lot calmer now.
however, he doesn't know if he could look at you the same while performing without getting hard again.
you may have eased his nerves but what have you done to his mind?
he tucks himself back into his pants, you pull your mask back down over the bottom half of your face, and you both leave the dressing room without uttering any words to each other.
vessel has a bit of a haze clouding his head while you regroup with the rest of the band, who are definitely smirking at you both for being gone until last second.
"you two snogging back there, or what?" iii teased you, making ii and iv giggle.
vessel was a little embarrassed, but he ignored it, finding comfort in the fact that they didn't exactly know what it was that you two were doing.
you simply told them to get fucked as you all began to flood onto stage.
hey, hoped you enjoyed this! i haven't read it over, i wrote it all on the spot and am now posting it. please let me know if you have any icks or recommendations on how to make this better!
thank you for reading!
-leo :3
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bonny-kookoo · 1 year
Text
Jungkook
𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐎𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫: Teaser Drabble 🎃
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Jungkook isn't used to doing things like this anymore. But maybe you can help him with that.
Tags/Warnings: Aged up!Jungkook, Younger!Reader, Age Gap (9 years, MC is way above the legal age!!), mature romance, major fluff, some angst, hints at past car accident, suggestive at the end
Length: short
There is no taglist for this fic.
-> Masterlist
A/N: this is a teaser drabble, set in the midst of the story. The exact spot in the timeline will be revealed at a later date.
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"Oh thank you- how much do I owe you?" You wonder from the kitchenette you're standing in now after taking the pumpkin he'd bought, while he takes off his shoes, bringing in the other grocery bag he's brought with him to leave on the small plastic table in your kitchen.
He's still wearing is usual work attire, slacks a bit wrinkled from the entire day of wearing them, just like his button up, silver watch heavy on his wrist.
Did he remember to change the batteries in it? You want to ask him, remind him, but wouldn't that be a bit too annoying? Overbearing? You're not sure what exactly you are to him after all. Maybe he'll want to go home right away if you start nagging when he's not even fully entered your small apartment.
So you stay quiet.
"Nothing, don't worry about it." He reassures you as always, hands in his pockets as you turn around to curiously poke your head into the bag, hand digging through the plastic bags of candy. "This is for you too, by the way." He chuckles, watching you take one bag of sour gummy worms out to inspect further. "You mentioned you forgot to buy some."
"Jungkook no, you're spoiling me too much!" You laugh, before you want to cringe. Stop nagging, stop denying his acts of affection- you keep doing it, keep trying to tell him he doesn't have to do it even though you know he knows it himself. He knows way more about life and love than you.
Just let him be, your inner voice scolds you.
"That I do." He simply smiles however as he admits to it, sitting down at the kitchen table, leaning his head on his hand to watch you. He looks tired- you instantly notice things like that, and it worries you sometimes. He mentioned he never had a burnout before, but maybe he just didn't notice because he never sees a doctor for his issues? His headaches are probably still bad.
Just leave him be, your voice scolds you again.
"There's proper groceries in there too, by the way." Jungkook says with his eyes now closed, and you notice that too- beneath all the candy he's bought, there's general groceries as well- and you're a bit embarrassed by it.
You're living your life just fine. It's not as luxurious as his might be, but you've got food in the fridge and a roof over your head, and that's enough for you. But Jungkook has this urge you've come to learn- he feels less lonely when he can share or offer something.
"You know I don't like it when you only eat canned foods and such." He says, before his eyes open-
"Do you wanna go nap?" You wonder, and he simply makes an almost purring noise in denial, furrowing his brows. "I don't want you to go home like that though.." You complain, running your fingers through his hair, over his scalp.
because you're hugging him, or rather his stomach, leaning onto his lap- which is cute, yes, and the position would be arousing under different circumstances- but he instantly helps you up from the cold kitchen floor to sit properly on his thighs this time, head resting in the crook of your neck with a deep sigh, arms wrapped around you.
Your signature scent fills his mind, the warmth of your body begins to seep through the fabrics of clothing separating your skin, and from the way he's holding you he can even faintly hear your pulse beat.
He doesn't care that the plastic chair is uncomfortable as hell.
He melts. He feels like it, at least. You always make him feel like he's weightless.
"Do you want me to stay over?" He wonders softly, tries to flirt, and you giggle.
"But you wanted to carve the pumpkin." He argues softly, eyes open again as he pulls himself together. "Let's do that then." He offers.
"Sure." You shrug. "You're a bit clingy at night, but I'll manage." You tease, earning his hand smacking your butt in return, laughter interrupting the soft moment. You're a lot better at this than he is, and he's reminded of that every time he's with you like this.
Maybe he can ask you to spend Halloween at his house this year? You could decorate, have dinner with Namjoon and the others, give out candy to the neighborhood kids. He's always done that last part, but he's never actually decorated his house with Evelyn. She always complained that it was too much work to do-
And then she'd leave for her party with her friends, every year, leaving him alone with a glass of whiskey and a crappy horror movie running on cable TV.
He doesn't want that. No when he's got you now- someone who doesn't leave him alone.
"We can nap first, and then carve the pumpkin?" You wonder. "Or, if you don't have anything else tomorrow, we can do it then, and just go to bed early today." You shrug.
Jungkook sighs. You shouldn't have to adjust so much to him and his schedule and his lack of energy these days- and most days. You're young, you should have someone to party with, or go on trips and have fun, especially now with the holidays approaching- not go to bed barely after sunset because you're old 'boyfriend' is tired from work. He'll never understand why you do this so willingly.
But, he also wants to be selfish. He's tasted that sense of tranquility you're offering him, and he's hopelessly addicted at this point.
"I don't have any clothes here." He mumbles, sighing as he forces his brain to work again for the moment. "I can come back tomorrow instead, hm?" He wonders, but you look at him unconvinced.
And then he realizes it, in the way your fingers cling to his button up shirt, in the look you give him that's almost one of fear-
"Oh munchkin.." He sighs. "Alright, I'll call a cab then, okay?" He reassures you, remembering your fears when it comes to this whole issue of driving while tired. He still feels bad for it- he'll probably remember your absolutely devastated expression for the rest of his life- and will forever try and make up for the pain he caused you that night. "I won't drive like this, promise."
"Thank you." You say. "I'm sorry-" you start, but he shakes his head.
"None of that. I forgot the impact it had on you, so I should apologize." He tells you. "If we take a thirty-minute nap right now, I'll be up and ready to carve the pumpkin tonight, how does that sound?" He asks, and you nod.
"If that's what you wanna do." You accept, and he leans in to press a kiss right onto your cheek.
"Of course." He chuckles, helping you stand up before he stands as well, moving however to cage you in against the low kitchen counter, face so close to yours he's already got it angled perfectly to catch your lips in his next move. "But I think you'll need to tire me out a little before I can sleep well later."
"You're exhausted, old man, you'll sleep just fine." You giggle, and at that, he grips your hips, gaze having sharpened at the challenge you poke him with, another need now rising inside of him as he watches your fingers undo his tie- his own, larger hands taking over to just pull it off quicker, the dark grey item probably useful later.
"I'll show you an old man, you brat."
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458 notes · View notes
persphonesorchid · 9 months
Text
Tasting Jealousy - KSJ
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Summary: Seokjin is more than happy to accompany you to your company's New Year's Eve party, he's not happy however, that your co-worker is trying to flirt with you. The presence of this man brings up feelings Seokjin thought he left behind him.
Word Count: 3.2k
Genre: COH!au, Cupid!Seokjin x F!Reader, fluff, smut...angst 😀
Warnings: Jealous jinnie, smut (Protected sex bcus Seokjin ain't looking to be a daddy for the new year. Soft Dom jinnie, fingering, kitty spanking - you'll see what I mean lmao.) Jin gets very sad at one point and it gave me flashbacks of a universe in which he left 🤡
Masterlist - HERE
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Notes: Happy New year my darlings!! I hope this year brings you lots of joy, love and peace!! Be good to yourselves!!
Now, I love this couple so much and I just can't get away from them ajsjhsha so here you go, my last fic for the year! And guess what? You guys will finally get to know who sent MC the flower arrangements. I know a lot of you were wondering lmao. I hope to write more drabbles for these two...even though is can't be considered a drabble because it got way out of hand 😭 but! I'm not complaining! I hope you guys enjoy!!
this follows Cupid's on Holiday's What If drabble Picking Peonies
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“Ranunculus.” The word is a hissed breath between Seokjin’s teeth, eyes narrowing into slits. There’s a muscle twitching just under his eye, and he should be careful. If he grips the champagne flute any tighter the fine glass will shatter.
You pause in the middle of your sentence, fingers brushing his as you take the glass he offers, head turning and tilting back a little to look up at him.
The chatter of the party populous and the soft crackle of Christmas jingles fades into background noise against the rising ring in his ears.
The man who stands across from you both must’ve been raised without manners, that or at least a little common sense. He stands tall, a inch or so shorter than Seokjin if he were to guess. They’re unintentionally matching, both wearing black turtleneck sweaters. Though, Seokjin’s coat is tweed and brushes his knees, the man’s is dark grey and stops where his hands are tucked into the pockets of his black slacks.
Its been about a minute since Seokjin went off to get you both something to drink. A minute since he spotted this man through the crowd and just knew.
It’s been about a minute since he’s walked over here, weaved his way through the crowd with a wide boxy smile and a wave in your direction. A minute of his eyes trailing over your form, lingering over the way the peach fabric accentuates your waist and flutters at your feet in soft waves. A minute since he’d leaned in with a smile and kissed both your cheeks.
A minute of him pretending Seokjin isn’t standing right here, like your arm isn’t linked with his.
Six minutes. Not like Seokjin is counting or anything.
Something burns hot in the back of Seokjin’s mind when you giggle around the syllables that make up this man’s name. You’re smiling at something he said a second ago, but Seokjin is so far in his head he didn’t hear. It’s the kind of smile you give him when he brings you your favourite treat; your cheeks puffing up and squishing your eyes. He doesn’t know if the guy’s actually funny or if you’re only smiling at him to not seem rude.
“This is Seokjin.” You say, and briefly, you look up at him, smile unmoving. There’s a pinch to your brow, probably still wondering what the meaning behind his word earlier was. A bit of pride blooms in his chest with the way you wonder; you’ve long forgotten where his distaste stems.
Seokjin dips his head in greeting when, the man – Taehyung – finally looks over at him. He extends a hand, overhead lights of the venue catching on the face of his watch that Seokjin knows is expensive. He knows because it matches his.
Seokjin shakes his hand firmly, even as Taehyung’s eyes meet yours again with a smile that seems a little more strained and a lot less boxy.
“Strong grip you’ve got there.” Taehyung's chuckle is deep as his hand falls back to his side and Seokjin only hums. “Friend of yours?”
There’s nothing in his tone that gives reason for the feeling that floods Seokjin’s chest. It rises quickly from his feet and burns the back of his neck and ears and he bristles.
“Partner, actually.” There’s an edge to his voice that he knows you’ve caught; you squeeze his arm a little.
“Ah, partner... That’s nice, I didn’t know you were seeing anyone.”
There’s no way he couldn’t have known.
He’s not in your department, Seokjin knows. This encounter would’ve happened a whole lot sooner had he been. Seokjin had been about your work place many times over this year alone, sometimes for no particular reason. Everyone in your department knows him by now.
Office gossip spreads like a flame in a dry grass field, so it isn’t that he hadn’t known, the man just chose to blatantly ignore it.
Something about that sets Seokjin’s teeth on edge.
“Ah, well, I’m pretty private so that’s fine.” You wave your other hand, the motion careful as not to spill the champagne that sits in it.
You and Taehyung make small talk, and Seokjin drowns in the feeling that’s swimming around his head. You ask him about how his birthday went and Taehyung says it could’ve been better. And there’s a twinkle in his eyes that Seokjin doesn’t like when he says it.
Taehyung smiles, after a while of Seokjin just staring him down. “Well...all my best for the new year.” He says, the curls of his dark hair sways on his forehead when he looks to Seokjin again. “Nice meeting you.”
And like that, he was gone, back through the crowd to linger when he’d came from.
Seokjin feels you shift, and when he looks at you, you’re already watching him.
“What was that about?” you ask, a brow raised.
“What?” Seokjin raises a brow back and you sigh, tapping at his arm with hand that was looped around it.
“Jin...” You say nothing more and Seokjin busies himself with draining the rest of the champagne in his glass. He sets it down on a nearby table and you do the same, unlinking your arm from his to stand in front of him.
“Do you want to leave?” you ask softly.
“We’ve only been here two hours.” Seokjin replies, shaking his head.
“You didn’t answer my question. And besides it wouldn’t be any fun if you’re gonna be like...that for the rest of the night.”
“I’m not being like anything.” His voice is a little harsh, and Seokjin isn’t sure if it’s because he’s being called out. He sighs, brows pinching. “It’s fine. It wouldn’t be fair to you if we leave now.”
“I don’t mind, that’s why I asked. If you don’t want to stay that’s okay.”
“Why’re you so stubborn? Stop pushing it.”
You step away from him, eyes rolling as you step past.
“Where are you going?” Seokjin calls, turning as you walk, following the motion of your body with his.
“The bathroom.” You snap and Seokjin stares until you disappear into the throng of people.
There’s a low whistle behind him and Seokjin slowly turns, hackles raised again.
Taehyung is back. Barely seems to be paying him mind as he fills a plate with finger food and snacks. The long rectangular table is tucked into a corner, laden with different types of foods. He’s a bit away, but Seokjin’s certain he heard the exchange if the little smile he donned was anything to go by.
“Trouble in paradise?” He nods with his chin in the direction you stomped off to, picking a mini sandwich off his plate.
“Just a small fire. Containable. Although, I don’t see how that’s any business of yours.” If Seokjin’s eyes could narrow any further, he’d close them.
Taehyung lifts his shoulder in a shrug, “Just worrying, she’s my friend after all. Would hate to see her not have a good time.”
“Right.” Seokjin says, and then takes a breath. He doesn’t have to entertain this. He turns on his heel, walking through the crowd towards the bathrooms.
He finds you just coming out, pulling the lace of your sleeves back down to your wrists. He takes your hand, “We’re leaving.”
“Okay.”
You follow without complaint or question. Once outside, Seokjin gives you his coat because he doesn’t need it, a hand on the small of your back as he leads you to where he parked. Ever the gentleman, he opens the door for you and waits until you’re situated before going around and getting in.
He turns the heat on, and the drive is silent.
After a moment of your eyes burning into the side of his head, you finally speak: “Are you okay?”
“M’fine.” Seokjin tries to keep the edge out his tone because there’s no reason to snap at you.
You still catch it, and Seokjin sighs when you go quiet. His teeth aches when he clenches his jaw, grip tight on the steering wheel. It wasn’t long before he’s pulling into the parking lot of the apartment and you’re out the car first.
The way up to your apartment is silent, and it continues until you’re both inside, taking your shoes off at the door.
“Wanna tell me what’s wrong now?”
Seokjin feels guilt knot his stomach as you stare at him, a patient look on your face.
“I’m sorry. It’s just...”
There was still a lot of things Seokjin was getting used to. It’s been a year since he decided to break every rule set for him and stay with you. There are times when he’s blissfully unaware of it. When he’s tucked it into the far reaches of his mind in a box under lock and key and it doesn’t bother him. Sometimes though, like now, it rattles along the inside of his head, bouncing off corners.
Taehyung is the one who sent you that horrid floral arrangement on valentines day. It had long stopped irritating him whenever thought about it. The initial jealousy had come and crested like a wave and was gone then. Now it crashes in like a tsunami.
It’s not just jealousy he feels, but a strange sense of being lost. Like he’s walking through a fog with a blindfold. He’s aware of what he did, when he decided to turn his back on his duty and be selfish. He knows well there are some things he can’t ever give you.
A normal, happy life is one of them.
He can give you whatever you ask for, anything you want it’s yours without question. But what happens later? Years down the road and you’re married to him and he can’t give you the one thing you’ll want then.
The person meant for you could give that to you.
He’s being selfish. You’ve never complained, but Seokjin knows you must’ve wondered about it by now. The what if. Maybe...perhaps it would've been better if he'd followed through with leaving then...
“Jin?” you call softly, ducking your head a bit to meet his gaze, “Talk to me, what is it?”
“Do you regret it?” His voice is just as soft, looking down at his feet. He looks up, somewhere above your head, sighing, “Do you know that he’s the one who sent you those flowers?”
You seem confused for a moment, and then recollection lights in your eyes. “Oh! Oh...Jin.” you chuckle a bit and step closer.
“Don’t laugh, it’s not funny.” Seokjin groans, and meets you halfway when you reach for him. Your fingers dance at the nape of his neck and Seokjin pulls you closer by the waist.
“Is that what was bothering you?”
He can only hum, and you chuckle again. The warmth of your hand rubs circles against his back and he feels that warmth seep into his bones and settle there.
“I don’t regret anything. None of it.” You murmur against his neck, and Seokjin pulls away, cupping your cheek with a hand. His thumb gently caresses, and he meets your eyes for the first time in a while and calls your name softly.
“There are things that I can’t give you.”
“So?”
There’s a fierce look in your eyes that makes Seokjin wrap his next set of words up neatly and swallow them.
“None of that matters. You’re more than enough.”
Seokjin closes the gap between you both, pressing his lips firmly to yours. The arm at your waist pulls you close and the hand that sits at the side of your neck tails into your hair to tug at the many pins that you’d secured it with.
He spins you with practiced ease, pressing your back against the wall of the entryway and crowding your space.
He places a kiss at the corner of your mouth just to tease, and chuckles when you chase. His kisses trail along your jaw, stopping just below your ear, and he takes the lobe between his teeth.
The little sound you make shoots down his spine, and he feels your fingers curl into the fabric of his sweater. He taps at your waist, his hand trailing over the curve of your ass and he gives you a moment to settle your arms securely around his neck before he lifts.
He doesn’t need to see where he’s going to find his way to your bedroom, and he busies himself with kissing and marking the skin he could reach. The fingers of his other hand finding the zipper at the back of your dress to tug down.
He sets you on your feet, pulling back just enough to help you out of your dress, his eyes still closed as he trails his lips over your collarbone, pushing the fabric off your body until it pools at your feet. Your skin is warm where he touches, he ghosts his fingers along your sides and revels the way you visibly shiver.
The bralette you chose for the night is lace and hides nothing from his hooded gaze, your nipples taut from the chill and his caress. He thumbs at the peaks, and when you tug on the hem of his sweater, he tuts at your impatience.
His hand slides up your back, unclasping the bralette and pushing you gently back until you hit the bed. The straps slide down your arms and he tugs it off, palming at a breast with a groan trapped behind his teeth.
“Jin..” you sigh his name and Seokjin hums, tilting his head at you.
He leans into you and you fall back. Seokjin holds his weight on his hands just above tour shoulders, and his knees trapping your thighs between them. He watches you blink up at him with some confusion as he simply stares.
“Let me ask you something.” He says, and then he shift, getting onto the bed and sitting with his back against the headboard. He curls his fingers at you, and with a bit of uncertainty tinting your form you follow. He settles you between his spread legs, pressing a kiss to the junction where your neck meets your shoulder as he traces patterns against the skin of your thighs.
He spreads you legs with a gentle hand, bringing his legs up a bit so that the back of your knees hooks against his thigh. Seokjin brings his hand down quickly, the lace of your underwear does nothing to shield you from it and he chuckles when your surprised whine meets his ears. He feels you trying to snap your legs shut as the sting of his hand runs through you, the way your back arches away from his chest.
“Tell me, sweet girl.” Seokjin coos, and he decides to be nice, rubbing soothing circles against your lace covered pussy. He could feel just how wet you are, your panties slide against your slick skin with his movements, damp against his hand. “Do you think you’re deserving of my touch right now?”
Your exhale rattles against his chest, and he waits patiently for your answer. He allows you a moment to think, and he knows it’s hard, as his fingers tease at the seam of your underwear, slipping underneath to find the wetness there.
“I am.” You finally say.
“Oh, are you?” Seokjin chuckles, dipping a finger into the warmth of you just to hear your gasping moan. He presses the finger against your clit, circling once, twice, and then he stops. “Do you want me to tell you why you’re not?”
Seokjin kisses your jaw, and the slight shift of your hips doesn’t go unnoticed. “You let that man get near you. Allowed him to act like I wasn’t there. Ignored the way he was looking at you.”
“Jin, it wasn’t...”
“Shh,” Seokjin shushes you gently, fingers resuming the slow, torturous grind against your clit. “I should make you cum until you cry.”
The whimper you let out makes his slacks feel constricting. He sinks two fingers, knuckle deep into you and kisses your neck when your head lulls back against his shoulder. He watches the way his hand moves under your panties, curling his fingers against the spot that makes your toes curl.
He presses the heel of his palm against your clit, and runs his tongue along the shell of your ear when your pussy clenches and your moans go up in pitch.
“Close already?” Seokjin coos mockingly, a chuckle on his exhale. The fingers of his other hand pinching lightly at your nipples, and then he stops, “That’s too bad, then.”
Your groan holds frustration and Seokjin unhooks your legs from his. He stands to rid himself of his clothes, his cock hard and weeping when it slaps lightly against his stomach. The reaction you invoke in him has never changed, a shiver slithers down his spine and watches at your tongue darts out to moisten your lips. You reach a hand out to him and Seokjin takes it, bending a little at his waist to press kisses against your fingers.
He fishes a condom from your nightstand – ever mindful – and then crawls between your legs, taking a moment to slide your panties down them.
“Okay?” He asks to make sure that you’re okay to continue, that he’s not driving you too hard.
You nod, and you lift your hips, pressing his cock between your wet heat and his stomach. Seokjin groans against your lips, tightening his grip against your thigh.
He moves his hips, pulling back and then pushing into you with slow, languid strokes. He kisses you tenderly, his tongue exploring your mouth. When his fingers brush against your clit, the way your core tightens around his cock has him seeing stars. His thrusts gets faster, and he knows just how quickly you’re hurdling towards your end, he watches every minute expression. The way your eyes squeeze shut and how your lips curl around his name, the scratching of your nails down his back.
Just as you reach the peak, Seokjin moves his hand away and slows his thrusts, leaving you trembling and whining. He smiles against your lips, and whispers, “Let’s take this slow.” He kisses you again, his thrusts becoming slower and gentler.
He continues to move in and out of you at a slow, steady pace, taking his time to bring you to the edge of pleasure again and again. Eventually, he begins to speed up, and he moves his hand back to your clit, sending you over the edge into a powerful orgasm.
“Fuck.” Seokjin groans, following not long after, his forehead against your collarbone. There’s a ringing in ears when he comes down, and he presses a kiss to your sternum before pulling away.
After you were both cleaned up and the sheets were changed, Seokjin holds you close as you both watch the couple of minutes tick by until midnight.
“Do you have any resolutions?” Your head is against his chest, a leg over his hip.
He traces patterns against your thigh, thinking quietly. This is another one of those human things that he wouldn’t ever grasp. You rang in the last new year with Yoongi and Hoseok while he was busy with his duties with the other Cupids in the area, so you must’ve had this question for a while.
Seokjin hums softly, “Loving you. That’s it.” He smiles when you giggle and when the fireworks start up at the stroke of midnight you both watch them light up the night sky through your open window.
“Happy New Year, Jinnie.”
Seokjin turns, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss and he whispers the words back to you.
You both lay there for a moment, quiet, and then Seokjin speaks: “You know, I could make him fall in love with his office chair or something.”
“Jin.”
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tagging: @xpeachesncream @bangtansmauyeondan @taestefully-in-luv @blog-name-idk @madbutgloriouspond @euphoricfilter @luaspersona @mssukeyna @allhobbitstoisengard @eoieopda @minmin2022 @liveyun
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moonsvillain · 5 months
Text
hotwings au where hawks is a vampire, dabi is a human, and they meet through the vampire equivalent of doordash.
dabi shows up at his door, scruffy and woozy (guy who's been doing this as a full time job and is not coping with the blood loss very well)
hawks is (rightfully) concerned and is ready to cancel his order but dabi immediately disagrees because "that'll fuck up my ratings sooo bad dude don't be an asshole"
hawks: "???"
dabi: "i really need this job man"
hawks kinda shrugs and asks if dabi's up to anything for the next few hours and dabi doesn't have anything going on so hawks invites him in and immediately sits this guy down on his couch to feed him and let him rest for at least four hours so he's not indirectly accused of manslaughter
one must imagine the disposition of an alley cat encountering canned food for the first time: internal battle of mistrust versus yummy treats
dabi goes down kicking and screaming
(the day he goes over to hawks' place it's raining so hard you can barely see and all dabi has is a cheap plastic poncho. hawks' place has heating—he very 'reluctantly' curls up on the couch)
hawks is probably the worst cook on earth but when he tells dabi this, he refuses to let hawks order food for him; dabi would literally rather die than subject another minimum wage worker to the storm outside just to come to this rich asshole's home
which ends up with dabi in hawks' kitchen, making himself a meal
(which, he probably wouldn't usually do this, but the blood loss is kind of getting to him. dabi's decision making has slowly trickled down to the average level it is when he gets drunk)
when he's fed and warm and hawks has forced him to watch two animated movies dabi could not give less of a shit about he finally turns to dabi like
"ok i know we're having a great time but also i really need to eat something. like. you. preferably."
dabi shrugs and offers up his arm, getting progressively more sleepy while hawks finishes his meal before falling asleep pressed against hawks' side
wakes up the next morning with a blanket pulled over him, cheek pressed to a throw pillow with a littleee bit of drool staining the fabric under him
sits up and looks around, armed only with blurry memories of the night before
("did i... sleep with this guy...!?!??!?")
finds a note on the table and unfolds it, trying to figure out what the hell is going on
(lovedddd hanging w u yesterday :P off at work feel free 2 make urself breakfast before u go. U should know where everything is. tip on the counter 4 u. xoxo hawks)
dabi, slightly mortified at the implication he rooted around in this guy's kitchen when he was out of it yesterday finds the tip
it's literally, like, $500 dollars
dabi scribbles down his phone number and sticks it on the fridge with a magnet
(half because he really needed that money and is pleasantly surprised that he got rent money a week earlier than he was expecting)
(half because he might not remember yesterday entirely, but he remembers feeling safe and warm and being addicted to that rare sensation)
hawks is very happy when he gets home, even if dabi isn't there, when he finds his little gift on the fridge
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mypoisonedvine · 1 year
Text
𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 | 5.2k (including intro)
𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | smut (18+ only), enemies to lovers, sub!neil/dom!reader, slightly dubious consent?, orgasm control/denial, praise and degradation, oral sex m receiving, come eating, riding, a touch of breeding kink, semi public sex
do NOT read this until you have read the FIRST PART or it won't make any damn sense!!
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"So, whaddya say, Mr. Lewis?"
"I say… suck my dick," he returned with a smug smile.
You just laughed.  "Maybe I would if I thought you could last more than thirty seconds."
His face got a little redder as he glanced away.  "Seriously?  You think I'm that helpless?"
You shrugged.  "I think I'm that good."
He looked at your face for a moment, a certain look in his eyes— a look that made it seem like he wanted to take you up on the challenge.  “Of course you do,” he smirked, “guys probably tell you you’re funny, too.”
“Sometimes,” you agreed, “but I’m not joking now.”
He stiffened up a bit.  “I don’t have a stamina problem,” he assured.
"If you're so confident, let's bet on it," you offered.  "I’ll blow you, and if you last thirty seconds or less, I'm buying the place.  More than that, you'll never have to see me again."
“Jesus,” he sighed, avoiding your gaze for a moment.  “Is that really how you make a deal?”
“It’s one way we could make this deal,” you returned, “and it sounds like a lot more fun than all the other ways.”
“You have an unfortunate habit of overestimating yourself,” he noticed.
“Then this should be easy for you.”
He hesitated, laughing nervously, but you stared forward so he knew you were serious.  After a tense pause, in which he opened and shut his mouth a few times as if nearly saying several different things, he sighed a bit.  “O-okay, yeah,” he relented, and you had to fight back a smile— not because you were actually that excited to suck some random video store owner’s dick… but because you were pretty confident that you just bought yourself some prime real estate and that promotion you’d been gunning for.  “S-so, um, how do we—?”
You cut him off by pushing him back into his chair with a grin, already loving the slight look of desperation on his face as he looked up at you.  "Let me get a little more comfortable first," you explained as you slipped your blazer off and tossed it aside.  
Then the shirt— one button at a time, not too slowly but without any sense of urgency.  “Y-you don’t have to do all that,” he promised thinly.
“Be patient,” you encouraged with a wink, “I just can’t afford for you to… stain any of this.  I have to go back to the office today, you know.”
He nodded a little in understanding, his chest filling and sinking a little more with each breath as he watched you strip.  For something you’d managed to spin as practical, you were doing it with a bit of… flair, slowly pulling the shirt off your shoulders and dropping it to the floor as his eyes were glued to your chest.  Of course, it helped that this bra wasn’t exactly ‘practical’ either… you only let your eyes drop for a second to the growing bulge in his jeans.
You started to push your skirt down, watching his eyes follow the fabric as more skin was revealed, only to tug it back up just before you got anywhere too exciting.  "Or maybe I should leave this on," you decided, making him whine and look up at your face pleadingly.
"C-c'mon," he panted.
"Maybe if you ask nicely…" 
He hissed in a breath through his teeth.  "Please…" he whispered.
"Hm?"
"Please take it off," he sighed, and you smirked at the way his hips jumped up a bit as you pushed it down to reveal your matching panties.  “Fuck,” he choked, “you dressed up like that just to come here?”
You shook your head.  “I had other plans today,” you offered cryptically, and if he was going to ask more questions about that, he forgot them when you stepped out of the skirt and right up to where he was sitting.  “Should I leave these on?” you asked as you ran a finger along the top of your thigh-high stockings, seeing him struggle to form a thought as he looked at them and then back up at you.
“Y-yeah, maybe… maybe leave those on,” he breathed, “the floor might be cold.”
“Oh,” you cooed, “you’re such a gentleman.”
You knelt down in front of him, rubbing your hands up his thighs through the jeans as he swallowed thickly.  Each time you slid your hands over his legs, you moved a little higher, until you were just barely brushing over the bulge under his fly.  You bit your lip and looked up at him, savoring the nervous expression he was wearing.
You opened the button of his jeans, and took your time with the zipper; you giggled a bit when you felt his cock flex, even through all the layers of clothing.  
“You’ve thought about this before, haven’t you?” you teased in a soft voice.
“N-no,” he denied.  
“Really?  You never wanted me on my knees in front of you?” you pressed.
“Well, that’s sort of a different question,” he breathed, whining slightly under his breath when you got his fly open and reached in to rub him through his boxers.  “Oh, t-take it out,” he instructed, but you just laughed.
“Let me do this my way,” you replied, and he seemed to realize then that you were teasing him on purpose, to make his side of the bet all that more difficult.  It would’ve been reasonable for him to call you out on your cheating, but he was too busy reaching forward to feel your tits through the bra; he groaned a little, squeezing them eagerly.
You did take it out, of course, after barely a minute of teaching him through the fabric, and you bit your lip as you wrapped your fingers around his warm, firm length.  It was a little bigger than you bargained for, but you weren’t exactly worried— after all, you were going to make sure you didn’t have to do this for very long.
Licking your lips as you stroked it— and trying to make it look like an instinctive move rather than a deliberate choice— you watched him as he stared down at your face and then your hand, a drip of clear precum already leaking from the slit.  You hummed as you picked up your pace a little, still mostly just exploring him, but squeezing him in your palm too just to watch him squirm a bit.
You leaned in and gave it one long lick, with just the tip of your tongue, all the way from the base to the head, and he hissed a little with his next breath as he stared down at you.  You hummed at the slightly salty taste as you lapped up the thin arousal, and his chest sank with a long breath.
"Okay," you smiled, "you can start counting now."
"O-one," he choked out, voice getting thinner as you wrapped your lips around him and bobbed your head.  After all that teasing, you had to be efficient for the next thirty seconds: you sucked hard and stroked with one hand while the other slowly rubbed his balls, hoping to give him the full treatment and make this quick.  "Two, three—"
You pulled back but kept stroking him.  "Not so fast," you scolded, "look at your watch."
"Sorry, fuck, um," he groaned, glancing at his watch to try to keep the correct time.  "Two… three… four…"
Your spit was running down to smooth your hand's movements, and he groaned as he started to buck up into your mouth.  His hands held your head, fingers tangling into your hair as you kept going.
"Five, six— oh god," he moaned, head tilting back for a second… but when he looked at you again, you looked up and met his gaze.  He bit his lip, already breathing heavily as he watched you.
He never forced your head down, really, but you could feel him trying to guide you, trying to make you move a little faster and take him a little deeper.  You could do that— you moaned around him as you pretended to let him take the lead, figuring that was what he needed to feel in control right now.  But as soon as you did, he tightened his grip on your hair and tried to slow you down… and you wondered if he was already realizing this bet might have been a little out of his pay grade.
“Ten,” he choked out, groaning as you flattened your tongue more to rub along the underside of his cock.  “Ele—oh, fuck— e-eleven…”
You moaned again, one of his hands slipping down from your hair to the back of your neck, even running over your shoulder and lingering on the strap of your bra.
Speeding up slightly, you tried to subtly twist your hand while you stroked and just keep a steady pace— once you found the right thing, you just needed to stick with it, and something about the hoarseness of his voice as he moaned for you seemed like a sign you’d found the right thing.  “Baby,” he mumbled under his breath, and you had to try not to smile since it would just get in the way of things.  You would definitely not be letting him get away with calling you ‘baby’ if your mouth wasn’t full…
Even you weren’t focused on the numbers anymore, putting all your energy into this as you bobbed your head on him.
“Oh, fuck, fuck!” he yelped when his tip brushed the back of your throat.  “Twenty— oh god…”
Home stretch, just ten more seconds, you thought to yourself, if that… he sounds pretty fucked up.  And it’s not that you hated this so much, it was actually turning you on more than anything to hear him sound so desperate— but you already had your eye on the prize, and you could’ve probably attributed the wetness gathering in your panties to the mental image of telling your boss tomorrow that you finally bought out Gumshoe Video, just as much as what you were actually doing right now.
"Twenty-t-two, twenty-three," he kept going, voice getting a little deeper now, and you wondered with a hint of nervousness if he could really make it— he was flexing in your mouth already, but maybe he could hold it back.
You moved faster, pretty much as fast as you could, and shut your eyes tight as you hoped this would work— you didn’t quite realize it at the time, but you were more motivated to make him come for the sake of it, than for the consequence of owning his store as a result.
“Twenty-eight,” he gasped, and you sucked even harder as desperation started to kick in— but then he choked on a moan, and flexed in your mouth again.  "Stop, stop!" he begged suddenly, and you stilled before pulling away with a smile.
"Can't take it, huh?"
"I just need a second—"
"No, you don't get a second. I already gave you thirty," you reminded him.  “I win.”
“N-no, wait,” he panted, only to open his eyes wide when you stood up and slid into the chair with him, straddling his lap.  He looked up at you in the most adorably pathetic way, his hands shakily coming to rest on your waist.
“It won’t be so bad,” you promised, “we have fabulous benefits, you know.”
He was clearly not paying attention, whimpering as you moved forward and rubbed yourself against him through the thin lace.  “F-fuck, please,” he whispered, and you smirked.
“You wanna fuck me?” you asked, acting totally surprised by it.  “I thought you hated me.”
“Yes,” he sighed, “and yes.”
Grinning, you sat up enough to pull the panties aside and guide him to your entrance, watching him choke on nothing as you teased his head with your slick lips.  
“F-fuck, you’re wet,” he noticed, sounding more proud of himself than you intended him to be.
“I get that way when I’m about to get what I want,” you shrugged, just a moment before sinking down and taking him all in one relatively-quick motion.  He moaned loudly and held on tighter to you, but you gave him no time to rest at all as you moved right away, riding him with a contented sigh and struggling not to openly laugh at his almost-pained expression. 
Obviously, he wasn’t actually in pain, it was just a look of conflict as he realized how badly he wanted to come and how bad it would be if he came right away— but you’d brought him right to the edge, after all, and you watched physical instinct and fleeting logical reasoning battle in his eyes as his eyes watched you bouncing on top of him.
“Fuck,” you moaned softly, humming when his head rubbed right against that spot inside you— you guided your movements to hit it every time, a nice little shiver running over you.  “Fuck, Neil, it’s good…”
He was obviously affected by the praise, and you rocked your hips faster as you watched him struggle even more to hold himself together as his head tilted back against the chair.
"You'd better not come inside me, Neil," you warned sternly.  "If you do… well, let's just say as your new employer, we're proud to offer a rather generous paternity leave."
"Oh god, oh god," he choked, yet holding on tighter to your hips while you moved.
"Not gonna knock up your boss on your first day, are you?" you laughed, reveling in his panic.
"You're not my boss," he panted, "not 'til I sign the paperwork."
"Oh, honey," you purred, "I already own you."
He whined and bit his lip, shutting his eyes tight— but you couldn’t let him run away that easily, you couldn’t let him hide from what was happening to stop himself from coming too fast: so, you took his hands off your hips and guided them up to your chest, all but forcing him to feel your tits again as he moaned louder and obeyed.  “God,” he breathed, “I— I don’t know if I can take much more of this—”
You hummed with a little pout, leaning in and lifting his chin with your fingers.  “Poor thing,” you cooed just before you pressed your lips to his, kissing him hungrily while riding him even faster.
He moaned into the kiss, clearly overwhelmed but still trying to kiss you back.  When his hands moved to your hips again, trying to slow you down, you grabbed them by the wrists and pinned them down to the arms of the chair, making him groan and buck up into you.  
“Just let me use you, baby,” you breathed against his lips, making him whimper and nod.  “Y’wanna feel me come, don’t you?  You wanna make me come?”
“Yes,” he groaned, “fuck— yes, please—”
“You can take it, right?”
“God,” he winced, speaking through his teeth as you moved your kiss down to his neck.  “God, fuck— I think I can—”
“I think you can,” you agreed, “you’re gonna be good for me—”
“O-oh, fuck,” he moaned, his cock flexing inside you again when you bit playfully on his neck.  You hoped to leave a mark, thinking it would be funny to make sure he couldn’t hide what had happened— but then again, it might not be the smartest idea… not that any of your decisions in the last five minutes were based on smartness.
Your hips rocked on instinct now, pressure building and twisting inside you until you couldn’t help but drop your head back with a long sigh of pleasure.
“Please come, please come,” he begged in a weak and high-pitched whine, and as much as you were amused by his desperate attempts to get you to finish before he did, you were also pretty into it… as in, it was working.  You’d only been doing this for a few minutes, but you’d had quite a bit of fun sucking him off and, well, he looked so cute begging.
You moaned and moved a little faster, holding on tighter to his wrists.  “Fuck, I’m close,” you promised.
“Oh god, oh god,” he whined, hands tightening into fists as you held them down.  “Baby, please,” he choked, and you smiled as it hit you.  You wondered if watching you come would be enough to send him over the edge.
“Oh fuck, Neil, yes!” you shouted, hoping to give him a show so he wouldn’t be able to help himself.  “Oh my god— so good, baby, you feel so fucking good—”
“Fuck fuck fuck,” he chanted under his breath, shutting his eyes tight— but then opening one a second later and groaning at the sight of you.  
The feeling began to pass as your thighs quivered, your whole body exhausted by the motions just as much as the draining power of your orgasm.  Stilling on top of him, you let go of his wrists and sighed with relief, resting your hands on his chest.  He shuddered, and you pretended to remember that he was waiting to come.  “Oh— do you want me to—?”
“P-please,” he choked.
You pulled yourself up until he slipped out of you, both sighing for slightly different reasons.  You reached down and wrapped your hand around him, laughing softly at how swollen and reddened his tip was— it almost looked painful, and the way he winced when you gingerly stroked him almost sounded painful.
Your free hand stroked his hair as he leaned his head forward against your chest, panting with exhaustion.  “Please, please,” he whispered between breaths, over and over.
“You did good, baby,” you promised him, “you can come now—”
He groaned and did it pretty much instantly, you could feel it running down over your fingers and even getting on his shirt and pants.  You clicked your tongue pityingly as he bucked up into your hand, his face fallen slack in pleasure and weak moans falling from his full lips.
“Poor thing,” you said again, watching him go totally limp under you— and his exhausted cock starting to follow suit— as the last little drip of come ran down over your fingers.  You brought your hand up to your mouth and licked up what had gotten on you, which his sleepy eyes watched in awe.  Before you swallowed, though, you pulled him by the jaw into another kiss— slow and sloppy, feeling him shudder as he tasted his own spend.
When you figured he’d had enough, you suddenly pulled away and slipped off of his lap, putting your panties back in place and starting to pick up the clothes that had scattered on the floor.  You wondered if he would say something, though you couldn’t imagine what, but found yourself a little surprised to be dressing in silence.  Then again, when you looked over at him, he was staring forward blankly and looking absolutely drained— in every sense of the word.
After getting fully dressed— though you figured you still probably looked less composed than when you got here— you slipped back on your heels and wondered if there really was nothing else to say.  “The paperwork will come in the mail,” you informed him simply as you turned to leave, and only then did he reach out and grab your wrist.
“W-wait,” he stammered, “I— I need to know when I’ll see you again.”
You considered that for a second, eventually shrugging.  “I don’t know, I work in acquisitions— once you’re acquired, you’re not really my concern anymore.”
“Really?” he breathed, smiling but seeming sort of frustrated.  “None of what just happened seems… concerning to you?”
You laughed a little, stepping closer to him again as he finally got himself in order— and groaned a little as he realized how bad the stain was on his shirt.  “Neil, my job is pretty simple: I need to make this place profitable.  Or, I need to make you make this place profitable… that’s going to take up all of our spare time.”
“So, if we’re losing money,” he posited, raising an eyebrow, “would you need to come here and… discipline me?”
“Don’t get too excited,” you scoffed.
“Why not?  Shirt’s already ruined.”
“Listen, I know that was… great,” you sighed, “but we should still establish boundar—”
He stood up and cut you off with a kiss, sudden and needy as you sighed against him.  He reached up and held your face, before dropping his hands down your waist and pulling you closer.  You were just about to melt into it when you (mostly) came to your senses and gently pushed him back.
He was looking right into your eyes, a pleading sort of look in them, as you broke away from the kiss.  “Boundaries,” you finished in a whisper.
“Yeah— okay,” he nodded, “I can do boundaries.”
He kissed you again, both of you getting a little more desperate as your arms draped around his shoulders.  It went on for quite some time, your breathing getting heavy again and the softest moans getting muffled by his lips as his body pressed against yours.
You looked up at him expectantly when he pulled back this time, and you bit your lip a little when you realized you were down almost as bad as he was.  “I think I’m gonna like working here,” he announced with a wide smile.
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violent138 · 3 months
Note
hi, I'm writing smth and I was wondering if you knew any references for how the batfam's costumes look/are made of (like layering and weapons and stuff)? specificly Cass, Jason and Duke but any of the other ones would be great too
Hello! Delighted to help, and I'll start off by mentioning that the Ultimate Guide to Batman (2022) says the bat-suit is constructed of "15 micro layers of Nomex reinforced fabric, the innermost layers providing insulation against extreme temperatures and covering the whole suit is a shell of triple weave kevlar". Bruce undoubtedly goes just as overboard for his kids' costumes, so that's a pretty good outline of what the layering might be. Additional notes include the suit being fireproof, capable of shocking opponents, vaguely shockproof (but Jason has tased Bruce before so I don't know).
Also, Jason's costumes tend to be sort of all over the place (there are several versions), if you stick to the Under the Hood comic one (he's prepping on fighting Batman I assume this is a pretty decent version of his suit), then you've got:
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Which is essentially a streamlined bit of body armour with biker leathers, boots, and a helmet modelled off a bike helmet. Weapons he carries include guns, bombs, combat knives.
If we move onto Cass, she carries most of the same weapons as Bruce, including Batarangs, grapple gun, smoke pellets, and if you want to get creative, considering her canonical master excellency in hand-to-hand and with multiple weapons (including a mace!), you could probably have her roll with several improvised weapons or things like swords. One of her usual costume appears like this (as Oprhan, she has also had several variants):
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But she's best known for/most recognizable in one that's essentially a play off Batman's suit usually (so his defensive layers apply). A quick note for Cass is that she's (with deep affection) insane, so even if the suit took plenty of damage she would keep going.
Duke's actually quite fun in this regard, because he's got several cool weapons including modified grapply- Escrima sticks (commonly seen with Nightwing), I think at some point he ran around with Nunchuks (?), but he's also got really cool light-based powers. His suits vary less (from my DEEPLY limited knowledge, sorry!) but his most recognizable look is bright yellow with a helmet (and probably all the same layers as it is one Bruce helped with). Also as a note, as he is a meta, he does heal slightly/moderately faster than the average human (perhaps that shapes how you describe his suit, idk).
The Signal's suit looks a little something something like this:
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This is already a super long reply. But I am more than happy to deep dive or even go further in discussing the rest of the Batfam's/other suits/other questions/weaponry if anyone's interested and I hope this helped at all anon (and good luck with your writing)!
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the-grey-hunt · 1 month
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i was encouraged for two seconds and now you all get to look at medieval ghost trick—heavily based on the medieval AU by @theriveroflight!
MORE WORDS BELOW THE CUT:
im gonna talk about each outfit specifically because again, someone encouraged me for 2 seconds and i love talking
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YOMIEL (and SISSEL): Sissel gets a little medieval hood instead of a plain kerchief, because it's adorable.
Yomiel's outfit is based on this gentleman here, but with a longer doublet to mimic his suit jacket. His red clothes are plain and a common color, but the richness of the color (from an early dye batch) indicates that it's probably a bit expensive, and the rich black collar and blindfold (because sunglasses didn't exist) are also some flashy signifiers of wealth.
The white leather of his shoes and belt would also be pretty showy (even if those white shoes are a bad idea in medieval mud...). I couldn't figure out a way to make the hat work, but I kinda wanted to.
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CABANELA: As a knight, Cabanela not only has some flashy white leather for his belt, but he's wearing a full-length chainmail shirt (expensive!) AND a deep black skirted tunic—lots of fabric that would take LOTS of expensive dye. This is conspicuous consumption to the max, showing off his status (indicated by his silver chain and pendant) as a royal knight.
His sword doesn't quite seem to match...as it's not his, but Jowd's old sword, still bearing Jowd's family's crest. Cabanela's outfit is taken from these two 12th/13th c. knights.
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LYNNE: A younger and less established knight than Cabanela, she's wearing more common colors (red, blue, yellow) from cheaper dyes, and her armor is based on this 9th/10th c. fellow. Older gear and much less flashy—she has plain brown leather accessories—but she bears the green ribbon favor that shows her commitment to Jowd's case.
Plus, her hose (pants) are a pretty deep blue and her armor is polished. She's taking good care of her handmedown gear and has made a few splurges on clothes! Her sword may not have a crest, but there's still a few jewels set in the hilt, befitting a royal knight.
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KAMILA (and MISSILE):
Kamila as a young noblewoman is referenced from this statue of a French queen. Her veil and circlet are typical for medieval women—most wore some kind of hair covering—but her circlet is metal, while most ordinary people would use fabric. I'm very proud of how nice all the gilding turned out. The power of shading!
Her little purse is not only expensive, but a royal favor—it's silk dyed Tyrian purple, a color that was often legally banned for anyone not in the royal family. I imagine it's a gift from her friend, Princess Amelie! Her clothes are pretty plain, light colors for a noblewoman, which is probably a matter of taste and/or youth.
The pose she's in, holding her cloak fastening down so it doesn't pull against her throat, is very common in medieval artwork of the period where this type of sash fastening was common.
Missile is Missile. you can't improve on perfection XD. I have given him a green collar, in a style to match Kamila's fancy gilt belt.
JOWD:
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Jowd is dressed in his "prison clothes", this rough brown friar's robe and rope belt that I copied the pose from as well. However, being brought back onto the case as a knight, he's recovered his old green "coat", a very nice garment called a gardcorps. It's a simple green, not too expensive, but it's lined in a contrasting white, showing the care put into its make.
I switched the opening on his gardcorps to the front, rather than the side as in the original illustration, so that the rope belt would be visible because I really liked the belt. It's got most of the "penitent" vibes I was trying to give Jowd. Also, like the friar, he is barefoot (prison does not give one a big clothes budget).
The background shows the city, like the original green-monochrome city skyline from the game's promo images. This city, however, has fewer and smaller lights, indicating the palace and the castle wall—and over the sea, the Viking longships of Sith's country are swarming in! (it's explicitly not longships in the fic I reference, but the Vikings are just too suitable a reference)
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a-simple-imagine · 9 months
Text
That Warm Christmas Feeling
Synopsis: Your spending the holidays with Jordan but you wake up feeling hot…
Pairing: Jordan Li x fem!reader
Words: 1k+
A/N - Happy holidays my lovelies. I woke up feeling absolutely awful which sucks but here’s a little gift. It's short and messy but enjoy.
WARNINGS - swearing
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a blanket of white snow paved the way for joyful celebration and family festivities. the festive season had been deep in your bones since late November. the cheesy Christmas movies. the bright flashing lights. and jolly old men in beards. you never cared much for the festive season by any means, it almost seemed like too much but you were making a conscious effort to try and enjoy it. you want the first holiday season together to feel even just a little special. you had been dragging them along to all kinds of festive events. you had been ice skating and drank hot chocolate. Christmas shopping around the markets. it was all just fun and games. the main event was to take place at their home. your first time meeting their parents. it seemed like such a big step for a rather new relationship but you weren’t against the idea. it would be fun.
a loud groan forces its way past your lips as you roll onto your back. a dull ache settles deep in your bones. a thick fog invades your head as your brain throbs. a blocked, tickly nose. great. you’re sick. on Christmas day of all days. you pull the covers up over your head to escape the sun peaking through the windows. couldn’t have picked a worse day. “good morning,” whispered in your ear. there’s an edge of excitement to their voice. their hand comes up to remove the duvet and reveal your less-than-pleased expression. You move away from them, burying your fave deeper into the pillow. “You good? I thought you'd be more excited. My parents have a full day planned, you're gonna love it.”
A pit of guilt or nausea grows in your stomach. You really wanna get up and enjoy the day but you also just wanna go back to sleep. “Please don't be mad,” you mumble against the fabric of the pillow.
“Why would I be mad?”
“I feel like shit,” you admit. “I think I'm sick.”
“Oh,” there's a pause that almost allows you to drift off again. “That's shit.”
“I’m sorry,”
“no no don’t be,” they reassure you. “You should stay in bed if you're not feeling up to it.”
“is that okay?” you ask quietly.
“Sure, they’ll understand. go back to sleep and I’ll check on you in a little bit, okay?” your only answer is a slow nod that pushes the fabric of the pillow roughly across your cheek. The door clicks shut and you drift off into sweet, sweet unconsciousness.
The time is a mystery when your eyes flicker open next. The world doesn't feel real as your head hammers with an uncertain pain. You sniffle as you fall onto your back. That's when you spot Jordan approaching with a steaming hot beverage in their hand. “How you feeling?” you just groan extra loudly emphasising just how awful you felt about the entire situation. “so good then yeah,” the bed dips beside you and he reaches over with a free hand to check your head. you don’t feel particularly hot so it probably wasn’t a fever. “Mom made you some tea, said it’d fix you right up but don’t feel like you have to.”
pushing up into a seated position, Jordan hands over a mug decorated with little Christmas trees and snowflakes. a heavy sigh leaves your lips. it really did feel like more effort than it was worth just sitting up straight. you take a cautious sip and warmth spills through your veins. “I feel like I ruined today,” you mumble into your cup. staring down at the swirling liquid. “I should have mentioned earlier.”
“you didn’t ruin anything,” Jordan expresses, a calming hand placed on your leg over the covers. “it’s not your fault you got sick.”
“I haven’t really felt great the last couple days but I thought it’d just go away.” you shrug, taking a much larger sip. “I really wanted to do Christmasy things with you. your parents probably think I’m awful.”
“They don’t think that,” they chuckle softly. “just focus on getting better and we can do Christmasy things tomorrow. they won’t mind.”
“thank you for the tea,” you reply handing back the drink.
“and besides,” he takes the drink back. “you’re giving me an excuse to get away from them. I need a break every now and then.“are you hungry?” you shake your head slowly. falling back down against the bed.
“tired.”
they just chuckle. “I’m gonna sit here a moment longer before I brace my parents again. just ignore me.”
the room is shrouded in darkness when Jordan enters once more. a crack of light filtering through the door. you don’t bother acknowledging them; just pull the thick duvet closer to your chest. a heavy sigh fills the air but it doesn’t come from you. the bed dips beside you. “are you awake?” they ask but you don’t bother answering. a silence a silence falls over the room as they shuffle about doing god only knows what. “I’m sorry you got sick,” Jordan speaks aloud. “I wish you could have spent the day with us. my parents can be a lot but they do go all out for Christmas… and I was looking forward to giving you your present,” their voice is quiet and you’re not sure if you should admit to being awake now. “my parents would have loved it. they’re already obsessed with you and they’re so happy I finally brought someone home. and I was gonna tell you I love you” After a moment you know they’re climbing into bed with you. an arm around your waist. you roll over to face them. “maybe tomorrow.”
“you’re gonna get sick,” mumbled out.
“I don’t mind,”
“Are you sure?”
“mhmm,” hummed softly and you don’t bother arguing. you just snuggle closer to his chest. they feel safe and comforting. a welcomed addition to your cosy domain. “I’m glad you’re here,”
“I’m glad you’re here,” you repeat against their chest. “and for what it’s worth. I… love you too.”
“you heard all that,” you don’t respond just shuffle further into his embrace. falling asleep to the sound of their heartbeat as a gentle kiss is pressed against your head.
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bookshelfdreams · 2 months
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@hylianengineer sorry I had to make a new post, the answer got too long for replies :D
Ah, the dreaded "but wool is itchy!". Not something I can relate to (I really like it when yarn/fabric has a bit of grip and structure to it, I'm not one for the ultra-soft, fluffy wools) but let's see if I can say smth useful.
First, you're definitely not alone in finding wool scratchy! A lot of people have sensory issues regarding it. Whether it can be helped at all will depend on how sensitive you are; some people can't even handle unspun 17 mic chubut merino and at that point, wool just isn't for them. Which is fine, not everything is for everyone.
Rule of thumb: the higher quality your fibre, the softer the finished garment will be. If it's just listed as "wool", it might contain recycled fibre, wool from sheep breeds that don't have a super fine fleece, or even wool from dead animals, all of which lowers the quality.
Virgin wool (I think) refers to wool that is spun for the first time, so a yarn that has no recycled fibres in it. Lambswool is a sheep's first wool. It is finer and smoother than adult wool.
Another big impact is breed of sheep and origin of the fibre. Merinos are the go-to for high quality items, but are also kept all over the world, so look to where your wool comes from. Aotearoa and South America are well known for their high quality merino wools. Sheep that live in colder, harsher climates produce a sturdy, tougher fleece, especially if they're not merino breeds. Depending on where you are, regional wool might not be what you're looking for. Britain is famous for their wool, but Shetland wool won't be super soft. Try some BFL (Bluefaced Leicester) if you can get it; it is smoother than merino and not as springy.
Wool can be superwash treated by coating the individual fibres, so the scales on the hairs are covered. This means it won't felt and can be machine washed; it also makes it less scratchy. This process is very energy- and water-intensive. The fibres are coated in silicone, I think, which makes the finished yarn feel kinda plastic-y, and it also lowers the insulating and water-repelling qualities of the wool. (All in all, you might as well buy acrylic)
You can also try looking for sheep's wool mixed with other animal fibres. Cashmere, alpaca, and mohair are probably the most common and all have their own qualities (cashmere is shiny and drapey; alpaca is smooth and kind of dense; mohair is light, extremely fluffy and super warm). All are softer than sheep's wool and nicer to the skin.
Anyway, all that to say: Look for virgin wool, look at the breed you're getting if it's specified, look for mixes with softer fibres, look at the origin of the wool. Unfortunately, when you're sensitive, navigating the world of natural fibres can be a bit of a minefield, I know. If wool isn't for you, that's not a moral failing!
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unbizzarre · 10 months
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Barrayaran Uniforms
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My laptop’s still broken so it’s been a messing-around-with-gouache-paint weekend! I always draw too small so doing the deatails on this one was rough! 😫
Modern imperial dress greens on the left, and an attempt at vorkosigan house livery on the right (I don’t love how the vorkosigan house one turned out so I’m probably gonna rework it some more before adding anything to the ol’ headcannon)
NOTES ON IMPERIAL DRESS GREENS
-book mentions stiff high uncomfortable collars, forest green color, riding boots and side piping. There should also be two ceremonial swords but I got lazy
- I wanted to put an emphasis on embroidery and hand details in barrayaran fashion in general so I picked side piping a little more intricate and ornate than just a simple stripe
- originally I was put piping across the front like in the reference, but it got too busy and I wanted the chest to be a little simpler that way medals and other stuff would stand out better against the fabric. Plus having fewer fiddly bits helps it feel more sleek and less out of place in space.
Reference photos:
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UNIFORM OVER TIME
- Barrayar as a setting has had to basically speedrun 600 years of fashion history as they make the leap from midieval to space-age in a single generation. In order to show the shift in eras I made a little timeline(ish) of the general changes in the uniform silhouette.
- biggest change in the general silhouette is the gradual shortening of the coat/shirt element from calf lengths tabards to thigh length coats to to waist height jackets
- armor and chainmail fall by the wayside, and guns are picked up. Early occupation uniforms eclectic and a hodgepodge of old midieval weaponry + stolen cetegandan ordenance. They are not uniform at all as the barrayaran military is mostly small gorilla outfits with each fighting force cobbled together from the resources at hand. New Uniformity would come with the return of central government and the implementation of infrastructure for mass production. The uniform would probably stay relatively consistant during the conquest of komarr through the pretendership. Another major shift in in uniform style would probably occur during the regency or Gregor’s coronation in reflection of the successful regime change and the continued push towards a more modern barrayar
Here’s some rough outlines:
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Reference Collages from photocopies of a fashion history book I picked up from the library a while back. Don’t remember the title. Will edit post when I do Left is Russia (not sure which century). Right is references for occupation fighters pulled from various pages, time periods, and nationalities (Russia, Mongolia, Crete and turkey maybe? Idk) I wrote all the page numbers down on the collage but I returned the book so now they’re useless.
Thanks for reading!
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justagalwhowrites · 1 year
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Hey! I love your writing could you please do a one shot of Joel just being a girl dad again in Jackson, like wrapping baby girl up in a burrito and he is terrible at it.
Ahhh Hi Bestie!
I love this ask so much. I'm such a sucker for soft Joel and dad Joel and Joel just doing the things he loves most, which is look after his girls. I hope this is what you're looking for <3
Girl Dad
Joel takes care of his newborn daughter, Sylvie. A Lavender one shot shared in honor of Doc's birthday, October 5.
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Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader from Lavender
Warnings: Mention of miscarriage. No use of y/n. 18+ only Minors DNI
Length: 2k
“Hey now,” Joel said, voice low and soothing as he held his newborn daughter against his chest, bouncing her gently in the dim light of the living room lamp. “You’re alright baby girl, we’re gonna let your mama rest, she needs to sleep after bringing you into the world.” 
Sylvie, it seemed, didn’t care. Her sharp little cry kept going, her small body squirming with it. She’d eaten only an hour before so it shouldn’t be that. He’d checked her diaper once but that was clear. For a bit, being against his skin had seemed to help but she was back to her pained little wails. 
Joel delicately pulled her from his chest, her tiny legs pulled up into her stomach, her dark hair in soft disarray on her impossibly small head. He checked her diaper again and, sure enough, this time it was wet. 
“Well that explains it, huh baby girl?” He said softly. “C’mon, let’s get you changed…” 
He crept back up the stairs, hoping that you were exhausted enough to sleep through her cries. He wouldn’t be surprised if you were. You’d been in labor less than 24 hours ago, your head on Joel’s chest as he held onto you. All he’d wanted was to be able to take some of the pain and the work from you, to make it so you weren’t the one hurting. All he could do was hold you to himself, press cool cloths to your skin, tell you how much he loved you, how amazing he thought you were. It hadn’t felt like nearly enough, especially not when Sylvie’s tiny body had been pulled from yours in all her soft perfection. How could he ever repay you when you’d given him what felt like the entire world? 
Joel set the baby down on the makeshift changing table in her nursery and pulled off the soiled diaper before wiping her. She quieted, her eyes so big and deep, watching Joel’s every move. 
“That’s better, huh?” He said softly, getting another diaper out. 
This, he soon realized, was going to be a problem. 
Not that he’d never changed a diaper. He’d changed plenty. He had almost no help with Sarah when she was an infant, burning through probably thousands of diapers before she was potty trained. 
He just had never tried to use a cloth one. Especially not a cloth one that was homemade and required pinning into place. Joel arranged the fabric just so around his daughter, hoping it wasn’t too snug, and got out the safety pin. But he hesitated, looking down at the tiny, squirming child who he loved so much it was like someone had broken his heart open to make room for it all. He’d never tried to pin something on a baby before. Her skin was so soft and delicate, her whole being so small and fragile. What if he accidentally hurt her? What if she remembered that little hurt and hated him or feared diaper changes for the rest of her life? What if something, anything, he did ever caused her pain? What if he found a way to fail her, too?
Joel considered, for a half a second, bringing her to you. Sylvie had only existed outside of you for a few hours, you and the nurse who delivered her had been the only one to change her so far. 
But you were exhausted and needed to rest and Joel needed to be able to change his daughter’s diaper. 
“We’re gonna figure this out, you and me,” he said to her. She made a small, breathy little baby sound back at him. “It’s OK baby girl. I’ll take care of you. Always take care of you.” 
He slowly, carefully, put the first pin in the diaper. No screaming, a good sign. He put in the rest and soon, Sylvie was clean and yawning, stretching her little arms out. Joel swaddled her and tucked the little bundle of her into his arms. 
She seemed so impossibly small, like no human being had ever been this small. Even though he knew she was a full two ounces heavier than Sarah had been when she was born. But she was so tiny that every motion required conscious thought. He wasn’t sure he’d ever felt quite so large, so potentially dangerous and accidentally violent, like if he held her a little too tight he would crush her. How could something so important, so vital, be bound up in such a fragile little package? 
He carried her slowly, carefully, back down the stairs and walked in circles as she stared up at him, her long lashes brushing against her cheeks when she blinked. 
“You should sleep too,” he said softly, bouncing her gently. “You had a big day today.” 
She yawned, as if to prove his point, and he wondered if he’d ever loved a little yawn more. 
He carried her through the living room until she started to fall asleep, her small face going slack. 
He found himself remembering how you felt last fall. It was just a few days before your birthday and you were sitting at the kitchen table that morning, one hand on your mug of tea, the other resting over your lower stomach, thumb brushing the small swell that had appeared there the week before. Your eyebrows were drawn together, eyes lost in thought. 
“Everything OK?” He asked, frowning, sitting beside you. 
“What?” You asked, jumping a little, like you hadn’t even noticed him until he spoke. 
“Just look a little…” he trailed off. “You alright?” 
“Oh, yeah,” you waved him off. “Fine, I’m fine.”
“Baby,” he said gently. “Remember when I said we don’t do this? The thing where you say you’re OK when you’re not and won’t let me help you? What’s going on.” 
You bit your lip, the thumb on the mug tapping against the ceramic before you sighed. 
“I just…” you winced a little. “I don’t think I ever told you this but… when I lost our first baby, it was on my birthday…” 
“Oh honey,” he pulled you close, pressing his lips to your temple, ignoring the surge of guilt that threatened to drown him whenever he thought about you, alone and afraid, at that time. “I’m so sorry.” 
“I’m about as far along now as I was then,” you said, looking down at your stomach to the small bump that no one but the two of you would notice. “What if it wasn’t what happened with Jessica and the guards? What if there’s something wrong with me and I can’t carry past this point? What if I lose them anyway? What if…” 
“Baby,” Joel said gently, brushing your hair back. “It’s OK. If… if something happens this time, we’ll deal with it together. It will hurt but I’ll take care of you and we’ll have each other and Ellie and it’ll be OK.” 
“I’m scared, Joel,” you said quietly, looking at him with wide eyes. “I don’t know if I can do that again and…” 
“We don’t have any reason to think it’s going to,” he said. “But if it does, it’ll be different this time. You don’t have to do this alone. I promise.” 
You nodded and leaned into him, tucking yourself against his chest. 
He wanted to do something to make it better, something for the first birthday the two of you had been actually together and doing more than just trying to survive in more than 20 years. 
Joel talked to Maria, Tommy and Ellie and put together a quiet dinner for the five of you, one filled with your favorite foods and even a small cake. He put on your favorite Beatles CD and got everyone on board with playing Clue. You laughed and danced with Maria and Ellie around the kitchen in your socks, sliding on the tile while Joel and Tommy smiled and watched through the back door as they stood around the grill. 
It was after midnight when you fell into bed with Joel, stretching out as you lay flat on your back. Your hand was at your bump again and Joel’s hand met yours there, his fingers lacing with your own, his palm on one half of your stomach, yours on the other. 
“We made it,” you smiled a little, more down at your bump than at Joel before you looked over at him. “Thank you for today. I seriously felt like my birthday was cursed, this is the first one I’ve really enjoyed in… well, 22 years?” 
He moved closer to you, kissing your temple and stroking your hair. 
“I really think it’s going to be OK Baby,” he said softly, watching you in the dark. “It feels right. Never had much in my life that did but this does and I think it’s going to be OK. Better than OK.” 
You smiled a little and looked down at the bump. 
“I’m starting to think so, too.” 
It had turned out OK. So much better than OK. Absolutely perfect was asleep on his chest, just a tiny bundle made of you and him together. Even though it was hard to believe something so wonderful could have come from him at all. 
“Hey,” Ellie shuffled in, looking groggy. “She OK?” 
“She’s good,” Joel said softly. “Just tryin’ to get her nice and settled before heading back up, giving her mama a chance to rest.” 
Ellie nodded, going to the kitchen and coming back with two glasses of water. She handed him one and he arranged the baby carefully before taking it. 
“How’s it feel?” She asked, watching Sylvie. “Being a dad again after… well…” 
Joel thought for a moment, looking down at his sleeping daughter. Even through all the love he had for her, for you, for Ellie, there was still the pain of loss. That Sarah would never meet her baby sister, never talk with her about boys or teach her one of the silly dances she and her friends used to choreograph in his living room. But it existed as a separate entity now, that pain. It could live alongside the fulfillment and happiness and overwhelming love he had now. There was room in him for all of it. 
“It’s different,” Joel said after a minute. “But damn, I forgot how good some of this was. I’ll figure out the hard stuff when the time comes.” 
Ellie smiled a little, taking a sip of water. 
“Well, she’s a lucky kid,” she said. “You’re pretty good at figuring out the hard shit.” 
He smiled a little at her. 
“Thanks, Kiddo.” 
The two of them went back upstairs, Ellie kissing her new little sister on the cheek before disappearing into her own room and Joel did everything he could to open the door to your room silently. 
It didn’t matter, you were awake, smiling lazily from the bed. 
“You’re supposed to be sleepin’,” he said softly. 
“I have been. But I heard her crying,” you whispered. “I knew you had her, knew you’d take care of her.” 
Joel smiled and climbed delicately into bed next to you, Sylvie still on his chest. 
“Can I get you anything?” He asked quietly. 
“No,” you shook your head but winced as you sat up ever so slightly, back supported by the headboard of the bed. “But can I take her for a bit? I miss her.” 
“‘Course you can, Mama,” he said, carefully putting the baby on your chest. You smiled so big that Joel could see it in the dark, your teeth reflecting the moonlight. He came alongside you, pressing his lips to your bare shoulder, looking at his daughter in your arms. “She looks like you.” 
“Please,” you scoffed. “She’s a few hours old, she doesn’t look like anyone yet.” 
“She’s beautiful,” he said reverently. “She’s perfect. Only gettin’ that from you, Baby.” 
You pulled your eyes away from her to look at him, stretching over ever so slightly to steal a kiss. 
“Thank you for her, Joel,” you said softly. “I’m so glad we made it here.” 
He looked at you and the child you’d made with him and wondered, for a moment, if he’d ever felt more complete than he had in this moment. 
“Me too, Baby,” he said quietly. “Me too.” 
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Okay here's one. I really dont think I'm the asshole but my ex sure does.
AITA for refusing to buy my partner a jar of pickles?
So this story has like, a little background and some confounding factors i think but i really could go both ways on whether i was the asshole.
Ill start with both my ex (21nb) and i (23f) had severe mental health issues and were working on treatment when we were together. Theyd been in and out of inpatient stays throughout our three year relationship. Towards the Day of Pickles, i had my first inpatient stay where i got help i desperately needed to keep myself safe. This happened to be about a week after my 23rd birthday, but about two and a half weeks before their 21st birthday.
Anyway, at that time i had just gotten out of the hospital and started a new job at Joanns Fabrics (i outlived that retail fucker and im proud of it). I had been unemployed for the previous year and a half because of the pandemic and so the retail job was really my saving grace to have some sort of income to buy gas and groceries. My parents let me live rent free with them in their basement but i spent a LOT of time essentially squatting at my ex's dorm because my situation with my parents was not great.
Now my ex was also being financially abused by their mom so they had a monthly "allowance" of 200$ (of their own money they made at their on campus job) and no access to their bank statements. So i spent a lot of my own money on gas and groceries for both of us, and anything we wanted to do for fun, like visit the city. Without an income, this was SUPER stressful for me and i spiraled pretty hard with feelings of worthlessness and hopelessness. Supporting two people, even minimal living expenses, on an income of exactly 0$ is the WORST.
Anyway, i got out of the hospital and pretty much immediately went back to picking up as many shifts as i could at work because id been on staff for all of two weeks before hospitalization. Knowing retail, i was probably on the precipice of losing hours or being fired altogether.
My ex wanted me to take time off to celebrate their 21st birthday (they didnt celebrate my birthday that year) and travel to see their family and drink etc. I got scheduled for an inconvenient time. I would have to miss their birthday if i didnt find someone to cover. I managed to switch shifts with another coworker who was nice enough to let me have her morning shift, so i was able to at least travel separately and be a little late to dinner.
The night of their birthday my ex wanted to get drunk and so we went to the liquor store. Now im generally pretty picky about alcohol but if i get anything special i always get enough to share. Mysteriously, no one ever offers to share the expense or pay me back. So with all of 150$ in my account, i purchased enough alcohol for myself and the rest of the party, and a bottle of (cheap af) liquor for myself. I was broke af until my next paycheck and was pretty much planning on giving up meals and staying at home because the commute to work was shorter and meant less gas.
My ex picked out a jar of boozy pickles and asked if i would get it for them for their birthday. I should note that with all the stress i was under i had found a birthday present for them but hadnt actually placed the order (was waiting to get paid). I also didnt lie to them about this and had told them that i hadnt gotten their birthday present yet. They were upset by this and told me they felt like i didnt care about them, to which i snapped and raised my voice a little.
I gave them a bit of a reality check. I told them in no uncertain terms that i was under a lot of stress, from nearly killing myself to being flat broke with little to no help from my family other than a conditional roof over my head, ordering their birthday present wasnt super high on my list of things to do and that i knew what i was going to get them and that i intended to order it as soon as i had the money to do so. After years of the sole attention being focused on keeping them alive, i needed some support and acting like i didnt care completely ignored EVERYTHING i did to keep us both afloat.They cried and played the victim as they tended to do and i was too stressed to do anything but be angry.
So when they asked for the pickles i told them no. I have NOTHING left in my bank account, and anything that was in my account was already allocated for something else.
They told me i was being selfish for buying myself alcohol on THEIR birthday, not even getting them a present, yelling at them, and then refusing to buy the one thing they asked for, especially after i refused to take off work the day before to hang out with them and their family. In front of our friends.
I told them that i was purchasing the alcohol for the whole party, that the present had slipped my mind, and that they were accusing me of not caring about them when i snapped. Then i walked out.
My bff went outside to help me cool down and i told him what was going on and how stressed i was and he said that he agreed with me, it was childish to expect me to pay for everything with no help from anyone and then act like im unreasonable for having to put limits on what i can purchase.
My ex ended up getting so pissed by all of this they broke up with me two days later, saying that their birthday was the final straw for them after I'd been so codependent and relying on them too much to survive.
I think its all ridiculous given all of the stress factors i was dealing with at the time. I feel like we're all entitled to the occasional emotional outburst/bouts of forgetfulness when we're stressed. But my ex seems to think im a selfish asshole. We've been no contact for the last two years so this isnt like a pressing concern or anything but it does make me roll my eyes occasionally.
So tumblr, aita?
(Btw im also much more financially stable now that I'm fully and properly medicated and away from them.)
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