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non-stop-imagines · 10 months

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On Display

From this request 💖

Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x Black Younger!Reader (10 years difference) (Taylor Russell face claim)

Word Count: ~4.6k words w/ 1 smau post

Warning: Porn with a plot somewhere in there, Dom!Daniel, Brat!Reader, p in v, Exhibitionisn (sex against a window), overstimulation, an attempt at writing dumification, Humiliation, brief breeding kink moment, mention of food, one mention of birth control, The word "slut" being used quite a bit 😵‍💫Minors DNI!!! 18+

A/N: Writing smut is always an adventure and this is no different. The funny thing about this is that I used writing this to destress from work all week so have fun imagining writing this while on my lunch break in the break room 👍🏿. But really, thank you for the request, all of the requests I've done already and the requests I've recently gotten that I can't wait to do. You guys are crazy creative and I love to see what you guys come up with it if literally my favorite. 😁💗 Anyway, hope you guys like this. Let me know what you think. Like, reblogs, reply, send asks, talk to me!♥️ Love you all!! 💖💛💖💛💖

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danielricciardo

Liked by yukitsunoda0511 and 501,288 others

danielricciardo Yn sent me random pictures of her and then started crying when I didn't immediately post them. I'm such a bad boyfriend 💔

imynbitch tagged

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imynbitch I stopped crying, didn't I? 😘

> danielricciardo I'll do better in the future

user Yn is That Girl and she just wants everyone to know

yukitsunoda0511 Yeah, you messed up 🤷🏻‍♂️

> imynbitch Thank you, Yuki. I don't know how much longer I can handle such a lack of attention 🥺😔

> danielricciardo Both of you shut up

user All of her looks are so iconic I can't choose which is my fav 😍

user Daniel is the only person that can handle an attitude like YN's. I'm glad they found each other 🥲

___________

Thursdays were boring when it came to race weekends for you, but you loved to tag along, staying around your boyfriend when you could and hanging out in the Alpha Tauri motorhome or next to a window in the paddock building that had a view of the track, which was where you were today. Both Alpha Tauri drivers were taking some lucky fans for a spin in a Honda, of which you were oblivious and uncaring of the model, around the Silverstone track. You would look up from your phone every once in awhile, whenever you heard the the roar of an engine approaching or squealing wheels, but one fateful time caused you to put your phone face down on the table you sat at and stalk to the large window, close enough to see the atrocity happening. It was the last fan Daniel had to drive around the track, a girl around your age, 24, maybe a bit older, whose hands were all over your boyfriend's arms, and your brain went haywire when Daniel's hand ventured to the girl's lower back, which for him was instinctual as he guided her into the car. You didn't even watch them leave the starting line before you picked up your things (your phone, smaller purse and garage pass) and headed down to the garage, crossing the people filled pitlane and ending at the pit wall, placing your face in a window of the fence without chain link. You wanted to love the smile on Daniel's face when he gets out of the car after his trip around the track and sees you, but your view was interrupted by "her", who meets Daniel halfway at the front of the car, giddily hooking her arm around Daniel's as he walks her your direction.

"Hey, baby. Uh, this is Jennifer, one of the lucky winners of a trip around the track with me." Daniel unhooks his arm from the brunette, stepping to the side a bit as she greets you.

"Hi! Ugh, I just love you! You're one of my favorite wags." She holds out her hand for you to shake, and at first you just scowl at the outstretched manicured hand, but after a brief glance at Daniel giving you a stern “What do we say?” look, you take hold of the hand, shaking hers with little to no tension in your hand.

“Thank you. I, uh, like your nails. They’re my favorite color, light blue." There was absolutely no feeling in your voice, but the compliment you gave was like a diamond ring to Jennifer. You cut your eyes over to Daniel, who gets the hint and begins to lead Jennifer away, that blasted hand on her back, a little higher this time, but still there.

“How about you head back over to the group? Let them know I’ll be over in a moment. I’ll be sure to get an extra picture with you, okay?” That smile. It flashed only at “her”, and you could see the slut’s knees get weak. You wanted to cry, seeing that flirty demeanor from Daniel that reeled you in day one, but focused toward someone else.

"Okay! It was so nice meeting you!" She waves back at you, you responding with a constipated grin, before heading towards the group of fans waiting to take pictures with their favorite drivers.

"Are you okay?" Daniel had an amused grin on his face. This isn't the first time you've acted like this. He knew exactly why you were pouting and had glossy eyes.

"I'm fine" You refuse to look at him, instead watching as "Jennifer" walked up to a member of the media team, probably to tell them that Daniel would be over in a minute. You knew that one glance at Daniel would send the tears you were currently holding back cascading down your face.

"You sure?" Daniel reaches to your face poking through the window in the fence, using your chin to turn your face towards his.

"I said I'm fine!" One tear escaped your eye and was wiped away with Daniel's thumb.

"Okay, okay, baby. I know." He looks at his watch, then over at the group of fans, then back to you. "You head back to the hotel, okay? I'll be done in a couple hours. Make sure you eat something, too." You nod hesitantly at his orders then pucker your lips for him to place a kiss on, which he supplements with another, more tongue involved kiss. When he pulls back he looks at you, eyes shifting back and forth and lips grinning at your still glossy eyes. After one last kiss, this time on your forehead, he finally jogs back over to the group, and though the petty, irrational voice in your head is telling you to stay and keep an eye on "Jennifer" around your man, you follow Daniel's instructions and head back through the garage so you can leave the paddock and head back to the hotel.

_________

"A couple of hours, my ass." You mumble to yourself as you exit the bathroom of the hotel suite. It's been nearly 4 hours since you left the track, and the nagging explanation that you had for Daniel’s tardiness was Jennifer and the "Fuck me" eyes that you felt she was giving Daniel. You wanted to feel happy when you heard the mechanical click of the hotel door unlocking, and deep down you were, you loved to have your boyfriend around. But instead you stayed planted in the armchair next to the large window.

"Still mad, huh?" Daniel plants a kiss on the top of your head despite your attempt to move out of the way.

"Well, huh, I don't know. How would you feel if some slut kept making 'fuck me' eyes at your boyfriend and you had to just watch?" You don't look up from your phone as you rant, tapping through Alpha Tauri's Instagram story getting small glimpses at the slut in question.

"Really?" Daniel's words came out as a chuckle that irritated you enough to make you get up and stomp over to the bathroom with him.

"Don't laugh at me! It's like you never take me seriously!" Daniel continues with what he was doing, removing his shoes and placing them in the closet and then removing his shirt to hang it up.

"I'm laughing because I know you're serious, and it's ridiculous." There's a hysterical laugh behind his words that gives you the impression that he's poking fun at you, which he was, but not in the negative way you thought that prompted tears to your eyes. “Don’t cry.”

“No, you think it’s ridiculous for me not to want to share my boyfriend!” You whine, stamping your foot on the ground, the childish act finally making Daniel turn around and take hold of your face. You looked pitiful with your cheeks squished and eyes red from your crying tantrum.

“No one is asking you to share me.” You let out a defiant grunt to his nonchalant response and he shakes your head with the firm grasp he had on your face. “Why would I want to go anywhere else when my dumb, little baby has the best pussy in the world. Only an idiot would give that up.” He finally lets go of your face and walks back into the bedroom, and you just silently follow him out, but stay by the bathroom door. You watch him pace around the front of the bed, frustrated with your attitude, running his hands through messy curly hair, accentuating the tone of his slim, tattooed, bare upper body. “No, don’t shut up now. Where’s all that whining?” You stayed still, pouting and crossing your arms. “Come here.” You follow directions, walking slowly to Daniel, arms still crossed in attempted defiance, knowing that any action of Daniel's, punishment or otherwise, would break down your defenses. You don't know what you expected, but you know the last thing was the tattooed hand at the junction between your neck and your chin, roughly bringing your face up to meet a sensual, sloppy kiss. It was as though you were magnetized to his movements, having no hesitation in accepting the tongue he presented the first kiss, meeting each entanglement and the amount of force transferred between your lips.

"Look at my sloppy little baby. So eager for me to show her that I only have eyes for her." Daniel moved his hand from your neck to just at your jawline, using his thumb to wipe the residual saliva from your lips and then, from spontaneous thought, pushes his thumb into them, to which you willingly accept the appendage into your mouth, earning a twisted grin from your boyfriend. He just watches as you suck on his thumb, head bobbing slightly as if you were giving him a blowjob. One of your hand begin to move on their own down to Daniel's jeans to unbutton them, but it's captured in his other hand as he removes his thumb from your mouth and smears the spit that you lathered on it along your lips. "Ah ah ah. Whiny little brats don't get to touch their boyfriend's dick."

"But-" Daniel uses his grip on your face to bring it back up so he can kiss you again, a light one this time, short in duration that made you lean forward once it was done, aching for more

"No, buts." With one hand on your face and the other grasping the fiendish hand that tried to get into his pants, Daniel takes a step back, admiring your attire. It was simple. A tight, white cami and baggy plaid pajama shorts. But it was what was underneath, or rather what wasn't underneath, that sent him reeling. “You’re not wearing anything underneath this comfy, little ensemble, huh? Did you do that for me?” You don’t answer, just hold the intense eye contact with him, a subtle scowl on your face. In response to your persistent defiance Daniel moves the hand that was on your face back to your neck, applying enough pressure to make your head feel lighter and for you to take a small gasp of air. “Use your words.”

“Yes. Yes.” You words came out breathless and panicked, to which Daniel removed his hands from your body, satisfied with the small answer you gave.

“And you called that poor girl a slut.” Daniel chuckles, and you just look at him with scrunched eyebrows, upset at the fact that the girl you were worried about was brought up again.

"Because she was." You grumbled this to yourself, since Daniel had already made his way to the unobstructed window.

"Whatever you want to believe, sweetheart." He only partially turned his head back towards you to respond to your rebuttal then turned his attention back to the window. "You think anyone can see us up here?" You shrug and hum your unsureness, making your way over to where Daniel was, standing just behind him.

"I mean, maybe if they're trying to look. We are pretty high up." You answer quietly. Daniel stays put, looking out of the window, but eventually turns around, that twisted grin back on his face.

"Good enough." He takes a step towards you and you tilt your head, confused with the implication hidden in those two words. "If I'm gonna show my cute little brat that she's the only one for me, might as well show the world that I only have eyes for you, cutie." Daniel gives you a quick peck between your raised eyebrows, then one to your lips, a preliminary kiss that preceded a second, more desperate kiss, which was repeated with increasing desperation, only being interrupted for mere seconds to remove articles of clothing, and in no time you and Daniel were completely bare to each other, making out and slowly moving toward the window. "You're fucking gorgeous." Your back was pressed up against the cold glass of the window, the change in temperature causing a combined gasping moan to come from your mouth. "And you make the prettiest noises, my love." You want to take in the glorious sight that is your boyfriend completely naked, tattoo sprinkled around his body that you love to kiss. You wanted to touch him, give him pleasure, but the coldness of the window, the sensation of Daniel's tongue now swirling and lips sucking at one of your nipples, physically feeling yourself get wetter, took that desire and tossed it to the side, and now you were chasing your own pleasure. Daniel's hands had pulled you in, one squeezing your ass and the other on your middle back, trying to bring your boob further into his mouth while using his body to continue to push you into the window.

"Danny…" You moan out his shortened name, tossing your head back, some of your gathered up hair springing free from confinement.

"Shh, dumb little babies don't speak unless they're spoken to." Daniel moved away from your chest back to your lips, swallowing the whine you let out from the loss of contact and then the moans you let out from the kiss. "Do you know how much I love your tits? They're absolutely perfect." He swoops his head back down to kiss your breasts, just the tops and in-between, slowly, sensually. "Let's just show the world how perfect they are." Daniel grasps your hips and spins you so your front pressed against the glass of the window, the abruptness of the action making it easier for him to do so because you had no chance to resist. You both knew the window was tinted, sure to a certain extent, but with tint and the fact that you two were mere floors away from the top floor, it was highly unlikely anyone saw you. But you could see out, clearly, and just the feeling of you being bare and open to the world like this makes you hornier than you even expected. Daniel comes up behind you and presses his body into your's, a hand at your pelvis and a hand grasping your hand that braces you against the window, fingers intertwined, placing his head on your shoulder. "What was that you were gonna say earlier?" As Daniel waits for your answer, he takes his socked foot and widens your legs ever so slightly.

"I need you. So bad. Please, fuck me." You were already breathing deeply from your arousal, and also partially due to the limited range of motion for your expanding lungs due to your current position against the glass.

"Wow, that was much more than I expected. I just thought my dumb little slut would just say 'Fuck me' and that's it. But that was fucking poetic." You could hear the frantic slight annoyance in Daniel's voice as he removes his hand from your pelvis to grasp himself, placing his dick between your legs right at your pussy, fucking your thighs a couple of times to lather up the wetness practically leaking from you before pulling all the way back and placing himself at your entrance. "Brace yourself." You did somewhat, but you wished you took his words more seriously because the force at which pressed his dick inside of you wasn't harsh or too fast, he knew better, but it was steady and gave you little time to adjust to having him inside your pussy as he bottomed out just as quick as he entered you. You simultaneously let out a moan that rivaled a porn star's as your face hit the glass, the abrupt sensation making your mind do cartwheels. Daniel's hand that had a hold on yours snaked away from your hand and under your, now back to, outstretched arms to reach under your chin, guiding your face up so he could give you another frantic, sloppy unfocused kiss before kissing your forehead. "Sorry, baby."

You didn't care. Even while he was apologizing for making you hit your face on the glass, Daniel continued to move his hips, thrusting slowly in and out of you, still causing you to let out lewd whiny moans. "Yes, baby. Keep making those pretty noises for me, okay? No one can make me go as crazy as you do with just a moan. No one. Fuck..." A harsh sting on your butt presents itself after Daniel's rambling of words, to which he responds by slowly massaging the the location at which his hand landed on you and proceeding to kiss your neck, happy with the mild scream you let out from the spontaneous action. He keeps thrusting into you at a steady, forceful rhythm. Snapping his hips into your ass and then dragging his dick out of you. Snap. Drag. Snap. Drag. He knew he wanted more from you, so he brought his left hand that was at your pelvis down to your clit, using the juices squelching from your pussy as lubrication for the fast, circular rubbing of the nub.

"Aha, shit. Danny…fuck." You blindly reach behind your head with your right hand, knocking into Daniel's solid right arm that was back against the glass, clumsily finding its way to the back of Daniel's head, which he nuzzles further into your neck for easier access to the location, moving your hands up until you reach some curls to grasp.

"You like being on display for everyone? Everyone seeing exactly how much of a slut you are for me?" He takes a small step forward, pushing your tits into the glass of the window more, changing the angle of your bodies slightly so his dick runs along each spot inside of you longer with each drag. "Answer."

"Mhm. Ev'ryone knows I'm yours. And you're mine." Your words don't match the innocent face that you give him, eyes wide and lips pouting and somewhat parted, shiny and swollen from the incessant kissing.

"Still so bold even when I'm fucking you against the window for everyone to see. That's why I love you." He flashed a giant smile at you before capturing your lips again at the same time as a harsh snap of his hips, producing from you a loud startled moan. He keeps thrusting and rubbing your clit, both paces steady. He can feel you go slightly limp from exhaustion due to how quick the intensity of the act got to maximum, so he adjusted, taking a step back so you were no longer against the window and bringing the arm previously holding him up against the window to reach across your torso, hand coming up to roll your nipple between two fingers.

" 'm gonna cum. Can't hold it. Feels too good." You keep your grasp on Daniel's head but look away, dropping your head down, getting a somehow X-Rated view of Daniel's tattooed hand rubbing your clit. As you said, it was all too much and soon your legs were giving out and trembling beneath you, to which Daniel takes a step forward again to brace himself on the window again, moving his other hand to your abdomen.

“That was a big one. You okay?” He turns you around and holds you steady by your ass, searching for your eyes and waiting for your answer.

“Mhm.” You look up at him, eyes blinking lazily as your mind swirls around with the pleasure you just received. Your out-of-it response, which was adorable to Daniel, earned you another batch of sloppy tongue filled kisses.

“Good, cause we’re not done.” Before you could protest or retort, Daniel’s lips were back on yours, your bodies slowly making their way over to the bed, the back of Daniel’s legs hitting the structure being him you guys' only indication that you made it to your destination. You were chasing his kisses now, so he had to put you at arms length again to speak. “Ass in the air, my love.” You didn’t follow directions, just stood on your tiptoes, puckering your lips for another kiss. “If I give you a kiss, will you follow instructions?” You nod and then climb in the bed kneeling on it so you were eye level with him, then bring him in from the back of his head, you now dominating this kiss, subconsciously showing anyone that has shown any remote interest in your boyfriend exactly who he belongs to. Once you pull away, a string of spit briefly connecting you two, you slowly get into position, wiggling your ass as you wait. The lack of sight was exhilarating, making you even more wet when you felt the bed dip and Daniel rub his dick along your highly exposed pussy. With a hand on your lower back, Daniel pushes inside you and you groan into the pillow you had your face buried in.

“Fuck, you feel so good like this.” He starts with a gentle pace, allowing your juices to really coat his dick to help it slide in and out better, and as his pace quickens, your groans prolong, still feeling sensitive from your earlier orgasm. “Ha, I can’t believe you thought I would even think about getting rid of this pussy. You really are just a dumb. Little. Brat.” With those last three words, harsh thrusts were supplemented with some more sharp smacks on your butt. His own carnal sensations take over for a moment, just focusing on chasing his own climax, but at a certain point he tilts to the side to look at you, still thrusting. He smiles at the picture of beauty in front of him, your drooping eyelids, slightly parted mouth with a small bit of drool falling onto the pillow, unsecured curls sticking to your sweaty forehead, and exhausted whimpers falling from your mouth. “You look so pretty, baby, all fucked out from my cock.” He keeps moving, speeding up as he gets closer and you also get wordlessly closer to another orgasm, but once Daniel feels himself get more frantic, more animalistic, he stops and pulls out of you, to your dismay, and flips you over onto you back. You kept the same face, brain clouded by desire for another orgasm, and your chest heaving from deep breathing as Daniel worked to get you in position. He kneeled between your legs, pushing them up toward your head, hooking your knees in the crooks of his arms, letting go just so he could guide himself back into you, then continuing the same brutal pace that shocks you for a moment, but then your brain goes numb, mouth hanging open, allowing whatever noises you make to come out uninhibited. “Look at that pretty face you're making for me,” He reaches down and squishes our face, abandoning one of legs to do so. “You think I would want to leave this face?” He bends down to kiss you, stretching your hip and pushing his dick deeper inside you to do so. You had no choice in the matter to kiss him, your lips were already puckered from his hand squeezing your face and your brain couldn't think of anything past cumming again from your boyfriend’s cock, but you still let out a moaning gasp from the intense mixture of sensation. Once Daniel pulls back, he seems to put complete and utter focus on fucking you, hard. “Do you know how much of a brat you were today?” He took your legs and wrapped them around his waist so he could bring his hands down next to your head and get a clear view of your face. “All because you didn’t want to share. And now here you are, being fucked in front of windows, from behind, just so you know that there is no other pussy I would rather fuck. My poor insecure little brat.” You couldn’t respond. You wanted to. Wanted to be snarky back, but everything felt too good, sensitive, and you were too close to cumming to think of anything to say except warning him of your upcoming climax.

“Danny…cum…” You held eye contact with him for the first time in a while, biting your bottom lip hard and begging him with glossy eyes. He just smiles maniacally at you and makes his thrusts rougher, knowing that he was coming close to his own end.

“After such mean words, too? You really are just a little slut for me.” He moves his arms around so he could be stable on one arm in order to reach down and rub your clit, causing you to make the loudest, unabashed moans until you finally got over your hump and came, hips bucking into Daniel’s, back arching, and hands bundling up what you could of the bedding. The rhythmic convulsions happening inside you during your orgasm were working to bring Daniel closer to his own, evident in the groan that he let out just as they started. He continued to fuck you through your climax, but purely for the sake of cumming too, his steady rhythm becoming frantic and unpredictable. “Why don’t we try out that implant, huh? I’m gonna cum in you so much it’ll be leaking out and we’ll see if you end up all round from me. That sounds fun, huh?” You weren’t listening at all, brain going haywire from the continued stimulation to your sensitive pussy, so Daniel’s words were truly just to bring him up and into his own climax, fucking into you wildly as he came inside your pussy, bending over to kiss all over your fucked out face as he did so. Once he came down a bit he removed himself from you and found enough strength to prop up onto his side in order to watch his cum leak from you, gently caressing your aching pussy to help you come down. “You did a good job. I hope now you know that I’m yours forever, okay?” He looks up at your face to see that you seemed to have fallen asleep, unquestioningly exhausted from the night's festivities. Daniel just chuckles and kisses your forehead. “I guess we’ll talk later.” He does what he needs to clean you and himself up enough to sleep comfortably, then climbs back into bed and rolls you into him so that your head is on his chest, and caresses your back until he falls blissfully into sleep with you.

_________

When you finally woke up it was nearly 10:30 in the morning. The room was quiet and the curtains to the windows were drawn so very little sunlight made it into the room. You reach behind yourself to the nightstand beside the bed, finding your phone that was conveniently plugged in and now fully charged. There was a text from Daniel.

Danny💙

Had to leave for the track pretty early. There's donuts out in the kitchenette-thing and iced coffee in the fridge. Make sure you eat real food when you get here. 😘

You smile coyly to yourself, then type out an answer you knew he wouldn't see until after you got to the track anyway.

Thank you, baby. See you soon 💗

You take a moment to fully wake up, stretch out your body, then get up to find and put on the pajamas that were carelessly tossed to the side last night before tiredly stalking out to see a rectangular box of 3 assorted donuts and a white tulip next to them, your favorite flower. You then make your way over to the refrigerator, flower in hand, opening it to see the aforementioned iced coffee, pulling it out and then grabbing one of the donuts before heading back to the bedroom to get ready for the rest of the Saturday.

#black reader #request #f1 x black!reader #formula 1 #formula 1 x black!reader #f1 imagines #f1 fake text #f1 smut #f1 smau #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo x black reader #daniel ricciardo smut #daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo imagine #Daniel Ricciardo scenario #scenario

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em-dash-press · 2 years

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Connecting With Your Reader's Emotions

We’ve all read a book or story that captured our hearts and made us feel things very deeply. It’s a superpower writers have, but it isn’t something we’re born with.

Connecting with your reader’s emotion happens when you’ve practiced writing. It becomes easier after each rough draft, each great draft, and each terrible draft.

But—if you want to save yourself some time, these are a few perspectives you can use to sharpen your writing tools.

1. Display Your Protagonist’s Inner Emotions

Your readers want to experience a character’s journey by connecting with them emotionally. We pick up books to feel things while learning something or just taking a break from life.

Displaying your protagonist’s inner conflict could look something like: She saw the ghost in the hallway, which scared her.

Your reader will feel more engaged if you describe how fear makes your protagonist feel instead of them feeling fear generally: She saw the ghost in the hallway and fear shot through her body like lightning.

You don’t need tons of flowery language to make your reader feel the same things as your character. Sometimes a minor descriptor or simile can do the job.

2. Show Your Protagonist’s Feelings Through External Reactions

Emotions don’t solely exist inside our hearts and minds. We also have external reactions to them. That could be nodding in confusion, shifting uncomfortably in a chair, or bending over laughing.

Consider this example:

“I love your laugh,” Anita said to Alice. “It makes my heart skip a beat.”

Heat spread through Alice’s cheeks as she smiled.

“Oh, you don’t mean that.”

You don’t need to mention how it feels to receive a compliment from a crush or why flattery is nice to hear. The physical reaction of blushing is something the reader can relate to and understand.

3. Make Your Reader Feel Something Your Character Doesn’t

This is a fun one. Sometimes characters have to figure something out, but the reader already knows what’s going on.

This could happen when you’re writing a horror story that is supposed to teach the reader about the joy of recognizing your own strength. The protagonist has the skills in the beginning to defeat the evil antagonist, but must reach rock bottom before cheering himself on. The whole time, the reader knows they can beat the antagonist and survive because they have the brains/strength/creativity, etc.

You could also write an enemies-to-lovers arc where it’s obvious to the reader that both characters are in love with each other long before they realize it. The reader should want them to embrace the scary feeling of falling in love, because that’s what you’re trying to teach through your story.

Consider Your Story’s Purpose

Writers have a purpose behind every story. What do you want readers to learn, consider, or experience through your own? You can use these methods of connecting with your reader’s emotions to make your plot’s purpose that much more powerful and engaging.

#emotional fiction #writing tips #writing advice #writing emotions #plotting #plotting tips #character creation

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joydemorra · 2 months

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Do you ever start something as a joke and lose complete control over your life?

In a world of dwindling hope, love has never mattered more... [read the full blurb here]

What is Hunger Pangs?

Hunger Pangs, often shortened to “Phangs” by the self-proclaimed phangdom, is my debut romance novel, published in Nov 2020, featuring a deaf, disabled werewolf, a neurodivergent, mad scientist vampire, and an all-powerful enchantress who is the last of her kind.

It is the first book in a slow-burn, polyamorous gaslamp fantasy romance series focusing on the relationship(s) and antics of the three main characters, Nathan Northland, Vlad Blutstein, and Lady Ursula, as they work to save the world they love from imminent magical and ecological disaster.

The first book primarily focuses on the relationship between Nathan and Vlad, with Ursula heavily alluded to in the next book (Pride and Folly) via some shameless flirting and stolen, impulsive kisses.

No love triangles here. Just three highly competent, world-saving bisexuals sharing the same brain cell the closer they get to each other.

There are two editions of the novel. The Flirting with Fangs edition depicts on-page sexual acts, and the Fluff and Fangs edition which uses alternative scenes/fade-to-black scenes for those who prefer not to read depictions of sex. You can read more about why I decided to do this here.

How Did Phangs come to be?

Like most things on my blog, the original concept began as a joke. My friend and enabler, @jeneelestrange, and I were talking about our least favorite tropes in romance/erotica, including but not limited to toxic “alpha” werewolves, brooding stalker vampire boyfriends, and the absolute profound bullshit that is the Conflicted Love Triangle and Bury Your Gays.

Eventually, it culminated in this post:

(source)

It was meant to be a joke. I really cannot emphasize this enough. It was meant to be a shitpost between friends.

A throwaway ADHD impulse.

Tumblr, however, wanted more of these posts, and like a swarming mass of drift-compatible rats in a trench coat, grabbed hold of my lack of impulse control and Ratatouille'd me into becoming an international bestselling author, and, well, here we are.

I also started writing the series while dying, which I highly do not recommend as a functional creative process.

Absolutely do not start a 500k five-part novel series about love and hope while dying from an undiagnosed genetic disorder. Or if you do, make sure you actually die so you don't have to edit the damn thing. (I am mostly kidding.)

What are the themes/tropes/character dynamics of the book?

In the simplest of terms, Phangs is a queer-polyamorous-paranormal-satirical-romance series featuring vampires, werewolves, and all other manner of creatures that go bump in the night.

It is set in a pseudo-regency meets fake-Victorian Gaslamp Fantasy world, complete with gothic castles, enchanted forests, and just a smidge of industrial coal dust.

Style-wise, Phangs has been described by readers as "like reading the queer, goth love child of Terry Pratchett meets Jane Austen," and I've never been more proud of anything in my life.

If Game of Thrones ascribes to the idea that the night is dark and full of terrors, Phangs is the monster-fucker politely sidling up to them at the bar and asking if they can buy them a drink.

It is also primarily a love letter to fandom, which has led some people to believe it’s fanfiction with the serial labels filed off. But as the person who spent five years agonizing over the world-building, I can assure you this is all very much the product of my weird little ADHD brain picking up tropes, shaking them upside down, and running off with whatever fun and interesting things shake loose.

As already stated, the first book, True Love Bites, focuses primarily on the relationship between Captain Nathaniel J. Northland and Viscount Vlad Blutstein.

The first part of the book primarily focuses on Nathan coming home injured from war and trying to find his place in the world as newly deaf and disabled -- something which alienates him from his werewolf family, who don't know what to do with an injury that can't be mended by a full moon.

While working on the island of Eyrie, he encounters Viscount Blutstein -- Vlad-- a neurodivergent, mad scientist dandy vampire with an enthusiasm for demonic botany and a streak of unfailing kindness as broad and expansive as the sky.

It's not so much love at first sight for the pair as instantaneous lust hampered by the restrictions of polite 1880 society and old ingrained prejudices that make them think the other couldn't possibly be interested in them that way. They're just misreading all those heartfelt stares and sexually charged chess games.

(The love is requited, your honor, they're just idiots.)

Both characters are explicitly queer/mspec, as is Ursula, who drops into their world like a magical atom bomb going off, but not before she spends her own parts of the book desperately trying to figure out what manner of dark entity is killing the magical shrines around the world that keep the world alive.

Thematically, the series touches on many things, but the book’s overriding theme is love. Romantically, of course, and love between families, both found or otherwise. But also love as an act of courage. As a choice. An act of defiance in dark and troubling times, and what it means to be loved and belong even though you’re different.

Especially when you’re different.

And I really fucking hope you enjoy it.

To read the full synopsis and check out the heat ratings, buy links and content tags, go to www.joydemorra.com

#hunger pangs: true love bites #info post #Hunger Pangs master post

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deanbrainrotwritings · 11 months

Text

— LIVIN IN YOU

SUMMARY : dean actually loves reading. it should have been obvious what he’d enjoy reading the most. he doesn’t hate all books. he likes fun ones, ones with spice and romance.

PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : none

WARNINGS : nsfw(18+), smut, smutty thoughts, fluff, sub!dean, dom!reader

WORD COUNT : 4.9k

A/N : title from a song by radio company. I was doing research on erotic novels for this and Bared to You by Silvia Day was the first book that popped up so I started reading it as research and planned to read only one chapter. It was all I was gonna include but I ended up liking it, and finished it lmaooo X

Dean couldn’t sleep. His bed was too empty, too cold. He moved around trying to find a comfortable position to finally fall asleep in, before he groaned and stared up at the ceiling thinking of what to do to put himself to sleep.

Y/N was out really late with Cas and Jack getting dinner since Cas and Jack went out on a hunt together and succeeded. Dean had just showered and eaten when they came back and Jack was starving so Y/N kissed Dean goodnight and went to take Jack and Cas for a late night dinner.

He chuckled shyly to himself as his brain suggested something. He looked around for his headphones and then searched in his box where he had his porn. Y/N didn’t look inside because she wasn’t interested in it—having him and all that was her reasoning. He hasn’t looked at his porn in years but he still liked collecting it anyway and Y/N didn’t mind that he did.

He finally found what he was looking for at the bottom of the box, beneath the Busty Asian Beauties magazines he had. He was paranoid and embarrassed about the thought of Y/N finding this out. It was a book he hadn’t read when he first got it. He and Cas had gone to the library years back and he was looking for something to teach Cas about sex while Y/N and Sam stayed back at the Bunker, cooking.

Dean led Cas to the erotic novels sections at the bookstore in town and he started to pick random books for him to read, from LGBTQ+ to heterosexual couples, monogamy to polyamory, BDSM, and more. Even Dean learned a few new things and they made him realise how right Rowena was when she said he was “sheltered”.

Dean sat, cross-legged, in the middle of his bed and kept his sheets on his lap to keep him warm. He plugged his headphones into his phone and let Led Zeppelin play quietly as he tried to focus on the words of the book. He was shy about reading it, so he was barely on chapter six of the book titled Bared to You. It was intense and straight to the point while all at once being a slow burn.

The main character, Eva, reminded him a little of Y/N with her wit and stubbornness, while the love interest, Gideon Cross, reminded him of himself if he were rich and more intense.

He wanted to skip straight to the sex scenes, but since it was surprisingly good, he decided against it. Once he’d started reading it—thinking he’d fall asleep quickly a few days ago, he found himself enthralled and captivated page after page as if he hadn’t had much more intense and creative sex with Y/N at least every night and morning.

He enjoyed the book more by imagining it was him and Y/N as Gideon and Eva. It could at least explain the blush that flared up his neck to his ears and cheeks, and the way his cock stiffened and swelled inside his black boxers.

He never touched himself, he just kept reading the fucked up relationship between Eva and Gideon, grateful that—as fucked up as he and Y/N were, they didn’t have something as complicated or toxic as them.

He wasn’t very good at talking about his feelings or his troubles, but he got there eventually as he processed events. Y/N didn’t push, she was just there—waiting for him, and never complained. She trusted him and she was kind, which helped to make her trust him. It was easier since she knew how to handle her own emotions despite how powerfully she felt them. So much about her made him feel safe enough to feel whatever he was feeling without being judged, invalidated, or forced to talk about it.

He didn’t always tell her he loved her in the traditional sense—through words, but he hoped—when he kissed her, when he made love to her, when he cooked for her, when he held her hand, when he smiled at her, and everything else he did—that she knew it was his way of saying it when it was too much to say out loud.

The book wasn’t very long and it was occasionally real to him. He sometimes related to Gideon and Eva, to their trauma, the feeling of being undeserving of love, the fear of vulnerability and intimacy, the inadequate feeling self-hate caused, disgust, and using sex as a coping mechanism. Now, when he had sex, it was because of surges of love and lust from how kind and tender Y/N was with him.

He didn’t feel used or objectified by her, he didn’t feel good about himself only during sex. He felt loved, worshipped, beautiful, and worthy with every press of her lips on his freckled skin, with every movement of her hands on his body, with the adoring words whispered into his mouth, against his skin. He felt it outside of the bedroom when she gazed at him lovingly when he talked about anything at all—and there was a special little glint when he gushed about cowboys. He felt it when he ate and caught her looking at him already with warm and amused eyes, when she cooked and fed him, praising him and complimenting him for looking cute as he ate. He felt it when she listened and kept her eyes on him like he was the only one in the room worth looking at, the way she hung on his every word, and how she was kind to him despite all the hurt she’s felt. She was everything. There wasn’t a single moment he’s spent with her where he hasn’t felt it.

So, even though the story did stress him out sometimes, he liked comparing Gideon and Eva to himself and Y/N. It made him feel proud of their relationship and good about himself because Gideon was really frustrating to him—and yes, Dean was aware how he keeps stuff to himself as well. However, he had never inflicted such anguish on Y/N by doing so, and he can’t keep it inside very long when Y/N makes him open up like a flower when it’s kissed by the sunrise. It’s not forced, he’s not pressured, it's just natural that he does so, bending to her tender will.

He already knew, years ago, when he started to love her. But the moment he actually let it take him over was when he was fresh out of hell, when they stood by his car in the cold, outside that barn where they hid Anna from Uriel and Cas. And he knew he was done for when she looked at him like he was everything, even as she confessed to knowing what he’d done in hell, when he realised that it didn’t alter or affect her feelings for him.

His walls were obliterated as if they were hit by a meteor when she kissed him, when she stole his breath for the first time, when she touched him so tenderly. When he felt her naked skin against his for the first time, and she quietly chanted his name over and over when he claimed her inside the backseat of his car. He was devastated by the gentle caress of her touch, by her soft panting breaths as he teased her, by the taste of her, by the way she tasted him. He felt beautiful—like a star after its death—when he was inside her that night for the first time, when he’d made love to her like he’d never loved anyone else.

He’d always known she was the only person he’d truly love after that Djinn made her his girlfriend in the wish-dream many years ago. When he told her he loved her in that dream-state and as he said them, he thought to himself that those words were only for her, he swore to himself that he’d never say them to anyone.

He’d gotten to chapter thirteen in a breeze and he was still invested in the story. There was so much drama going on between the characters and he was blushing—not just from how hot the sex was, but because he was embarrassed that he actually liked the book.

Just as he got to another sex scene he shuddered when he felt a little draught and he jumped when he looked up and saw Y/N standing with the door open. She looked like she’d been caught, she was frozen and blinked at him with confusion and surprise.

Immediately, he closed the book and turned it onto its back to hide the cover, then removed his headphones. She relaxed and smiled softly at him, “I thought you’d be asleep.” She stepped forward, her eyes filled with love as she reached out for his face. He stared up at her with a deep blush on his face, he was anxious to be discovered by her, but he closed his eyes when her fingertips gently brushed across his cheeks.

“Couldn’t sleep without you,” he murmured and opened his eyes, glancing up at her through his thick lashes. Her smile widened slightly and she cupped the side of his jaw, letting him rest his breathtaking face in her soft palm.

“I’m here now,” she whispered. He smiled softly, lifting his hand to hold her wrist and moved it to his mouth so he could kiss her pulse. “Let me get cleaned up, I’ll be right back.” He nodded gently, closing his eyes when she leaned down to kiss his forehead. He leaned into her with a content smile, then offered his lips to her when she pulled away. A single press of her warm mouth on his made his lips tingle, but he let her walk away, and licked his lips as he watched her leave his room. He let himself bask in the aftermath of her tenderness for a few seconds. He just stared at the door she exited from, his eyes drifting away little by little as he bit his lip, deep in thought. Thinking of her—naked, mostly.

Shortly after, he made quick work of hiding his book where it had been and returned his headphones to where they were before as well. He sighed and threw his phone on the wooden bedside table carelessly. He felt a bit of adrenaline at the thought of being discovered and arousal from having been fantasising sexual encounters with Y/N.

Still, he innocently returned to his spot on the bed. He moved beneath the warm sheets of his bed—sitting, and rubbed his eyes when he heard his bedroom door opening again. Y/N was standing there for a while, smiling at the way he rubbed his eyes before she entered. She quietly closed the door behind her and walked towards him, “what were you doing before I interrupted you?”

He stared at the black shirt she wore. It was his Led Zeppelin shirt with a grainy black and white image of a zeppelin and orange coloured words. He smiled at how big it fit her—like a minidress. His adoring, honeydew eyes fell to her bare legs and her blue ankle socks with white clouds, to the grey slippers on her feet.

She climbed onto the bed and he bit his lip, shyly looking at his hands, “listening to music and reading some book about wraiths. It was interesting, so, uh, I couldn’t fall asleep after all,” he lied and she chuckled. She still raised a brow as she inspected his flushed state, and moved the sheets to straddle him, unaware that he was hard. He exhaled shakily when she sat back on his thighs and his hands flexed on her legs as she rested her arms on his shoulders. “How’d it go with Jack and Cas?” He cleared his throat and held her hips, hoping to change the subject even though he only wanted to pull her onto his cock.

“Good,” she murmured, “Jack wanted a burger, milkshake, and some fries.” She smiled down at him, then kissed his lips softly oblivious to the way it only fueled his lust. His eyes fluttered shut and he hummed softly. “Cas was just sitting there all stiff, but he relaxed a little when Jack started to ask questions about how all of the food they served was made.” She cupped his face in both of her hands, feeling his ticklish stubble on her palms and the heat of his blush. “You’re warm, are you okay?”

She sounded concerned and she brushed her lips against his forehead to see if he was sick. He only nodded to reassure her he was fine and captured her lips with his in a needy kiss. He brought her hips forward, finally letting her know what was going on down south. She gasped against his mouth at the friction against her clit and he groaned softly at the sound of it, tightening his grip.

“A book on wraiths made you hard?” She teased breathlessly, her eyes fluttering shut when he kissed the corner of her mouth. Her heart rate picked up with excitement and her skin started to get warm with the rush of blood through her body.

“Shut up,” he murmured, kissing across her jaw, nibbling gently on her jawline. He trailed his opened mouth down her neck, his tongue sliding against her soft skin, tasting her and breathing in the fruity scent mixed with the aroma of flowers in her soft hair. “I was thinking of you,” he told her, his voice deep and husky, it made her pussy quiver.

“What about me?” She whispered, her fingers buried in his short hair. He slowly moved his hands up her back beneath the shirt she wore and brought his mouth up to her lips, but he didn’t kiss her.

“The first time I was inside your tight, hot, wet little cunt,” he growled, taking a moment to see her reaction.

“Dean,” she gasped, her stomach fluttering with excitement. Pleased with her response, he pressed his lips against hers, passionate and thrilled with a newfound confidence. He pulled the shirt up and off her body quickly. Her hands returned to his hair to tug at the short strands, drawing out little grunts from him that went straight to her clit. He didn’t give her much time to catch her breath, instantly returning to her lips once he removed the shirt, not that she needed air as she robbed him of his own oxygen with the depth and passion of her returned kiss.

He gently prodded at the seam of her lips with his tongue and she opened up to him swiftly, a sudden neediness controlling their actions. He could taste chocolate on her tongue when he licked into her mouth, savouring the flavour of the milkshake she must have ordered as his fingers toyed with the hem of her panties. He felt his skin electrify when she moaned at the gentle strokes of his hot tongue.

“I wanna make you come,” he whispered against her lips. He pulled her closer, her breasts squeezed against his broad chest which was covered in a black Henley. The cotton rubbed against her breasts deliciously and made her nipples tighten. He turned her over onto her back with his arms around her waist and he watched her chest rise and fall with each breath she took.

He looked down at her, seeing her shiver now that she wasn’t warmed by his body heat and took a moment to admire as she laid naked beneath him. His eyes drifted away from her pink cheeks to look at her full breasts, down her slightly concaving stomach, and finally her pink underwear. His hands flexed on her thighs, slowly rising to her hip bones where her underwear was resting.

“Take me,” she whispered, reaching over to lift his shirt up off him as well, “however you want,” she told him quietly. He groaned softly at her words, quickly taking his shirt off to do as she clearly wanted him to. She stared up at him with wide eyes that swallowed him whole like beautiful, hungry black holes.

“Whatever you say, angel,” he murmured, looking away from her blushing face fro a few seconds just to remove his boxers. Like him, she’d looked away from his face to watch him strip completely, her little tongue dipping out to moisten her dry lips at the sight of his stiff cock. He looked up at the right moment, caught her quite literally salivating at the sight of his dick leaking at the tip. “Wanna taste?”

That was usually her line, when he’d stare at her glistening folds debating on whether to fuck her already or eat her out. Unlike him, she’d say it bashfully. She’d move his attention away from between her legs because she was just like that sometimes. He adored her to pieces with every fibre in his body.

As she crawled over to him, he sat back on his legs, his hands stretched out behind him as his cock bobbed with excitement. His eyes were on her, right where they belonged, watching her lower herself slightly and very teasingly dipped her tongue into his slit, tonguing away his precum. His breath hitched and his hands fisted the sheets, his hips instinctively moving upwards.

“Yummy,” she said playfully, moving up his body. He stared at her with parted lips, panting as his cock ached for attention, but her hands slid up his thighs and stayed there.

“Please,” he moaned impatiently. She blinked at him once, a little smile on her face making her even more irresistible. She shifted slightly, but his eyes were glued on her as she slowly trailed her fingertips up his cock. She became flustered and averted her gaze to his lips, leaning forward just a bit when he became a little too intense to stare at. Dean felt his lips tingle as they brushed against hers, but he let her have control, let her tease him by refusing to just kiss him senseless.

Her touch was teasing, light and slow as she moved her hand up and down at last. Her thumb swiped over the slit, spreading the warm precum that had started to bead out, her mouth watering at the sight. But instead of continuing to tease him, she moved onto his lap, pulled away from his face to guide his cock to her soaked entrance. And just with the sensation of her warmth around the tip, he whined.

The sound made her insides quiver and she cursed under her breath, a little smirk tugging at her lips. His hands clasped her thighs painfully, the tortuous way she slid down the length of him made him roll his hips up impatiently. The breath she took had caught in her chest at how good it felt to be this close to him once again.

Her lips were on his again, at last, swiftly aiding the passion that made her tummy warm, that made his body burn with so much heat he felt like a sun had started to burn inside of him. He loved it. Being loud on purpose. Losing himself in her completely and giving in, letting her take control and please him the way only she knew how to do.

A loud moan slipped past his lips, into her loving mouth when she sat fully on his lap. The way she tightened around him after each sound spurred him on. His hands moved up her sides, grasping tightly at her hips, hoping to mark her skin as he tugged her forward, fervently giving himself pleasure.

“Just wait,” she murmured against his lips, pulling away to push his shoulders until he was lying down on his back. He whined in response, bratty—cutely refusing to stop. His head tipped back, letting his body relax into the bed while he lifted his hips up, his lips parting to vocalise more of his pleasure. “You’re so fucking pretty,” she chuckled breathlessly, staring down at him—utterly enraptured by his impatience and his determination to make himself feel good.

“Need to cum so ba-Fuck!” He screwed his eyes shut when she lifted herself up and roughly slammed back down. She smiled and laughed, slightly amused and then leaned forward to kiss him, his eyes barely starting to open, only to flutter shut again when he got lost in her kiss.

“You’re so fucking desperate, D,” she teased, her lips brushing against his hairline. A whine from him at her words showed her that he liked it and she moaned in response, continuing to ride him as eagerly as he wanted her to.

His eyes were fixated on hers, heavy with lust, pupils dilated with both love and desire. The way she lifted herself with such agility tore more sounds of pleasure from his throat, deep and rumbling groans that came from within his chest and made her smirk smugly at him. It was so hot, it drew so much arousal from her that lifting herself up and down was embarrassingly smooth, the squelching sound of her pussy being filled by his cock echoed around his room and made his moans get louder.

His grip on her hips tightened, blunt nails digging into her flesh, his back arching from how rough she was fucking him, giving him so much pleasure he thought he’d explode. “Fuck, baby, ‘m so close,” he moaned. His mind was hazy, his skin burning hot and sensitive so that even the way she dug her nails into his chest added to his pleasure. He loved being on the bottom, more than he’d like to admit.

“I could cum just listening to you, Dean,” she panted, leaning over him slightly, one of her hands clutching the pillow his head rested on. She changed the angle of her hips, her clit rubbing against his pelvis, her other hand slid up his chest, wrapping around his throat and squeezing gently.

“Shit,” he gasped, his hips bucking upwards.

“You’re so kinky,” she chuckled, “how about you just cum already, D?” She clenched around him, a gasp slipping past his lips. He shook his head, his teeth digging into his plump bottom lip to hold back another moan, his stomach tightening as he tried holding back his orgasm. “Fine,” she chuckled, grinding down on him to stimulate her clit until he was whining, bringing herself closer to the edge as he squirmed beneath her.

“Oh… fuck,” he moaned loudly, his orgasm washing over him before he could even stop it. An arousing look contorted his face as he came, quick curses and whispers of her name puffing past his parted lips that left his mouth and lips dry, making him look so beautiful.

“That’s right, D,” she chuckled, biting her lip to muffle a moan when she felt the warmth of his cum inside her. She started to lift herself up and down again, hard and fast until she reached her own orgasm, her velvety walls squeezing him tightly, and he took it despite how sensitive he was starting to get.

He let her finish, his fingers bruising the flesh of her hips until she stopped shuddering completely. Her entire body turned to jelly, a little smile growing on her lips, gazing at each other in the slight darkness of his room. Only one lamp allowed him to see the state she was in, flushed and a little sweaty like him.

Her gentle eyes swept over his face, watching neutrally as he sat up tiredly, a languid smile on his face when their breaths became normal again, “I didn’t expect that,” he murmured hoarsely, brushing her hair to the side and kissing her cheek. She relaxed in his arms, placing a little kiss on his lips before resting her cheek on his shoulders.

“Y’know I don’t believe you, right?” She mumbled against his shoulder, smirking when his hands stilled on her back. He recovered quickly, his hands continuing to venture up and down her spine, ignoring the feeling of their cum oozing out of her.

“What do you mean?” he chuckled deeply, “I didn’t plan on us having sex tonight.” He knew he sounded unconvincing, but mostly he knew that she wasn’t talking about that at all.

“What were you reading?” She asked, pulling away to analyse him. He swallowed nervously, licking his dry lips as he thought about what to say, but he still felt dazed from his orgasm that no lie to get himself out of the situation came to his mind to rescue him. “Tell me, if it gets you this worked up, I might have to give it a read,” she teased, lifting herself off him.

“Fuck,” he hissed, smacking her ass when he saw she was purposely lifting herself up slowly. She plopped down next to him, rubbing her thighs together as her pussy continued to throb with. He bit his lip gently and admired her, dragging his hand up her soft and warm thighs to reach between her legs where she was completely soaked. “I’m too embarrassed to tell you,” he chuckled, gently massaging her sensitive clit.

“That’s okay because I already know,” she whispered, moving his hand away from between her legs so she could return to his lap. His lips parted, a look of confusion and embarrassment turned his face red, his lips parting with no words being formed. “I clean your room, D, it’s not just magically without dust all the time.. Plus I’m curious about your porn, okay? Some of those ladies are crazy fine,” she chuckled, kissing him passionately.

He pulled away from the kiss, giving her a dirty look that made her laugh. “I’m going to throw them out if you say that again,” he pouted, his fingers mindlessly caressing her thighs.

“Don’t be jealous of them, you know you're my only girl, Dean,” she teased, burying her fingers into his hair and tugging him forward to give him one of the best kisses of his life. He moaned softly, his hands flexing on her thighs, instinctively bringing her closer so her body was pressed against his. He whined against her mouth, pouting at again. Her teeth dug into his plump lower lip, seductively pulling it before she let it go and smiled down at him.

She snickered when she saw the confused look on his face. “I don’t even know what that means,” he mumbled cutely, tracing a few freckles on her legs. She sighed dramatically and grinned at him, getting up to clean herself with a random hand towel he had in his drawer.

He watched her naked body move itself away from him with another pout on his face, waiting for her to look back at him. She did eventually, smirking and shaking her head. He blushed, becoming a little shy, he turned over onto his side to watch her but also to stop himself from doing things to get her attention.

She turned the water on in the sink and leaned against it to clean herself up, letting him see his work. He held his breath, heat spreading over his face like a fire in the forest, his hands clutching his pillow. His eyes were fixated on her every movement, inspecting the way she spread her folds open to clean herself thoroughly despite the sleepiness that made his eyes heavy.

“Enjoying the show?” She smirked, glancing up at him. His eyes snapped up to her face and he shrugged with a little laugh.

“Always.” She stood normally and walked towards him again, into his soft bed until she was right next to him. The towel was slightly wet, and she folded it to use a clean part on him, carefully taking his soft cock to clean him. He hissed quietly, watching her face at first, and then watching how gentle she was with her hands, reaching down to his balls to clean where their cum and her arousal had dripped down. “Round two?” He whimpered and she smirked, pulling her hands away from his dick.

“As horny as I still am, you need to sleep, baby.” Her shoulders shook with silent laughter and he nodded, a lazy smile growing on his lips. He loved this. She moved out of bed to place the dirty towel somewhere to remind herself to wash it tomorrow, and then to wash her hands before she made her way to his drawers to pick a clean pair of boxers for him and clean panties for herself.

She slipped the Led Zeppelin shirt on again and handed him the Henley he’d been wearing, but he childishly put it on the nightstand, “no, I want easy access in the morning,” he whined, stopping her from taking his boxers to him. She laughed softly, then returned their underwear to the drawer neatly.

“Does that mean I’m the little spoon tonight?” She asked, amused, taking his shirt to fold it neatly and placed it back in place. He nodded, fixing the blanket so she could join him beneath them. “Okay, pretty boy,” she murmured, smiling as she made her way to him beneath the sheets, kissing him softly and mumbling goodnight against his lips before turning around. His arm slung over her waist, a happy smile growing on his lips, snuggling closer to her warm body as he closed his eyes and fell asleep.

taglist

@candy-coated-misery0731 @stxrgazer03 @spnfamily-j2 @globetrotter28 @deansbbyx

main masterlist

dean winchester masterlist

do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or republish my work on another platform

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester smut #1.2 #dean x reader #dean x you #dean winchester #supernatural smut #supernatural

826 notes · View notes

phantom-playdough · 1 year

Text

Macaque x F!Reader: Sweet Scent

I had this super cute idea, but I know I am not creative enough to make a super long story with said cute idea. Although, after I finished writing this, it DID turn out longer than I thought it would be. Not complaining about that too much tho cause this was a lot of fun to write. Regardless, I hope you guys enjoy this little fanfic.

Y/n was out in the marketplace to get some things she was running low on.

'Snacks, drinks, dinner meals, mangos for Macaque...' Y/n listed off in their head.

Last thing she needed to get was some new body wash. Of course, Macaque had thrown out her previous body wash because it was peach scented. Of course, Y/n chose that particular bottle simply to push his buttons, but she couldn't help but feel a bit bad about it now.

Now, she was looking at some body washes and found one bottle that caught her eye:

Mango and Pomegranate Scented Body Wash

Curious, Y/n picked it up and thought about it. Mangos and plums were Macaque's two favorite fruits. Some mango bodywash may be just enough to make it up to Macaque for the whole peachy scent.

But to make it better, Y/n also spotted some sweet plum and lavender scented lotion.

Talk about perfect!! Y/n purchased the two scented items and rushed her loot home before Macaque got back. He had made it an unspoken rule for himself that he gets home before dark. Y/n looked at the sun beginning to set below the skyline and knew that she didn't have much time left. So, she picked up her pace back to her apartment.

Luckily, Y/n got back with just enough time for a quick shower to try these new items out. She sadly didn't have enough time to unpack the rest of the groceries, but she could handle that later.

She immediately grabbed everything she would need for her shower and practically dove into the warm water when it got to the temperature she wanted.

Once her lightning-fast shower was done, Y/n got out and began to change into her lounge clothes. As if on perfect cue, Macaque called out to her.

"Y/n? You home?"

Y/n opened the bathroom door with their laundry in tow and greeted her loving partner. "Yeah, was just taking a shower before you got back." She walked past Macaque to take her laundry to her clothes basket.

When Macaque caught a whiff of Y/n as she walked past, he was almost frozen to the spot. He knew that Y/n bought him mangos, but the scent of mangos and plums was all over her!

As Macaque was trying to get his brain to work again, Y/n came back over to him and hugged him from behind. The scent was incredibly strong, and Macaque had the smallest of smiles on his face.

"Did you get a new bodywash?" Macaque said with a small laugh. He was really struggling to hide the giddy feeling in his chest.

"Yeah." Y/n squeezed him a little tighter. "Do you like it?"

Macaque spun around and hugged Y/n tightly. He placed his head in the crook of her neck and took in the scent, feeling as if he had just taken a breath of fresh air for the first time ever.

"You kidding? I think I just fell in love with you all over again..."

Y/n was surprised at that statement, as Macaque was normally not the type to get all mushy or open with his feelings. But based on the bright red blush on her face, it was safe to say that she was not complaining.

"Love you too, dork." Y/n said, wrapping her arms around him in turn.

#6 eared macaque #macaque x reader #lego macaque #monkie kid macaque #six eared macaque #macaque x y/n #lmk macaque x reader #lmk macaque x y/n #lmk x y/n #lmk x reader #lmk

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nightingale2004 · 2 months

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Severus Snape daughter headcanons

Slytherin all the way.

There was a debate with the sorting hat between Slytherin and Ravenclaw, but the hat landed on Slytherin

Severus taught her German and Russian

Has a pet cat

Was taught how to brew potions as a child

Skilled in occlumency and legilimens

Severus would've definitely taught her some fight moves he learned from Tobias to defend herself along with defense spells to protect herself if necessary (one of the rare good things Tobias did for Severus)

I feel his daughter would have a photographic memory

If his daughter was born before the war, then she would've met Regulus as a baby but didn't know a lot about him other than what Narcissa, Lucius, and her father told her (all good things)

Growing up, Severus didn't tell her a lot of his past, but every time she was in the Malfoy's care or Charity and Aurora's care, they would tell her all the embarrassing school stories of Severus (Severus would neither confirm or deny the stories) but they leave out the marauders of their stories (she knows about them, they always let it slip during their stories)

Educated in both the wizarding and muggle world

She definitely inherited the famous Severus glare and sharp tongue

Middle is Eileen, and Severus talks about his mother sometimes but not much

She would definitely be a bookworm

Similar to Severus, she would have an interest in potions and DADA

She and Draco would have definitely seen each other as siblings from their parents

I feel like she would be respectful and nice to house elves and would hate the abuse they face (she scolds her uncle Lucius about hurting Dobby every time she sees it)

Her and Hermione would have a school rivalry since they are both the smartest girls in their houses. But they respect each other and their intellect

If wolfstar had a child or children, then you can count on some bad blood between them (who knows... maybe an enemies to lovers)

Severus and McGonagall taught her how to dance (quite fabulously, if I may add 👌💃)

Sees Minerva as a grandmother figure (you can't tell me that McGonagall wouldn't lover her as her own)

If she had an Animagus form, it would be a cat or Raven

Her Patronus would be a bat or a cat

Has respect for the Weasley twins but will not hesitate to turn their pranks against them if it's aimed at her father, Draco, or herself

Likes Molly and Arthur but has notes on their parenting

She and Ron like playing wizard chess with each other (she beats him every time, and Ron always wants a rematch)

I feel like she would be a bit relatable to Stiles Stilinski (has ADHD, OCD, A LOT of sarcasm, and is stubborn. Wonder where she gets that from) "I mean no. Do you want to hear it in German? Nein". "I'm 140 pounds of pale skin and fragile bone, ok? Sarcasm and magic are my ONLY defense."

I feel like a lot of people would be afraid of her because she is Severus's daughter

She and Luna, I feel would get along because of her creative mind and unique way of seeing the world (she would also scare off Luna's bullies)

She makes her own spells, potions, and magical objects (mad scientist mode)

Not a big fan of quidditch but supports Draco

Brains of the operation

Hates Sirius on sight and is OK Remus.

She will not hesitate to hex or murder Sirius if he continues to insult her family (she is very difficult to restrain)

Feels like Harry's babysitter for always helping him survive on his adventures

She knows Remus when she was young due to his visits to her home to pick up his supply of wolfsbane from her father (so she knows he's a werewolf)

Often scold Draco if his insults go too far.

If her dad was a part of the death eaters and she was told, she would be shocked, upset, and angry but if he told her about the double agent part then she would be more worried for him

All I got so far. Enjoy my lovelies

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the-lazy-cat-bakes-souffles · 2 years

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I can’t stop thinking about the way that when Robin hears Nancy’s name in Season 3 she rolls her eyes and calls her a priss, but then not five minutes later she runs into Nancy in the flesh who’s apparently in the thick of the insane situation Robin has become unwittingly wrapped up in. Her makeup is smudged and her hair is messy and she’s terse with Robin and all Robin can do is utter a flustered reply while giving her this look:

And then shortly afterwards Robin watches as Nancy plants herself in front of a station wagon full of kids and shoots at an oncoming speeding car with a pistol, fully ready to sacrifice herself to protect them. That night at the Star Court Mall changes everything Robin thought about this dainty, pretty, prissy girl who turns out to be a certified badass with nerves of steel.

After this, Robin is smitten. She volunteers to go with Nancy the moment an opportunity presents itself. When they’re waiting in the library, she assumes that Nancy has some genius trick up her sleeve because since Star Court she’s built up an idea of who she is in her mind: brilliant and brave and tenacious. Robin is so desperate for Nancy to like her that she loses all pretense of sardonic aloofness that we see around other characters and the words start spilling out, exactly as she described when venting to Steve about how she behaves around girls she’s crushing on.

Robin is self-conscious and apologetic about how she comes across to Nancy, she repeatedly tries to diffuse the underlying tension between them in any way that she can, and is particularly keen to emphasise the platonic nature of her friendship with Steve. Despite barely knowing Nancy, she starts using the nickname “Nance” right away. There’s a sincere and earnest effort to win Nancy’s approval and affection; Robin needs it more than she even realises.

And the thing is, it works. Nancy starts off cool and irritable and exasperated (which, one should point out, may be in no small part because she’d been up all night looking for her friend who she just found brutally murdered - cut her some slack folks!), but after those two hours with Robin in the library, she realises that she’s remarkably bright and creatively minded and complements her own logical way of thinking so well. You can see the journey she undergoes in that short period of time written on her face: bemusement and impatience soon give way to respect and the dawning realisation that she’s met her intellectual match, someone with the same insatiable curiosity and a whole new way of seeing the world to show her.

Nancy has so many emotional walls built up from years of repression and trauma, especially surrounding having and losing friends (not to mention, potentially, her own repressed queerness), but Robin despite her insecurities over her lack of filter and tendency to ramble and her other personal quirks manages to steal in past those defences. After that first encounter together, Nancy wants Robin by her side at all times. Even though she knows Steve, Dustin, Lucas and Max so much better, she picks Robin to come with her to Pennhurst, she asks Robin to explore the Creel House with her, she has Robin ride shotgun with her in her car. They stick together as a pair at every turn.

This is so, so important: Nancy grows to like and care about Robin because of her being totally and utterly herself. The Robin whose mouth moves faster than her brain, the Robin who is relentlessly inquisitive and goofy and clumsy, the Robin who is at her most overtly neurodivergent around her. And Robin is slowly but surely finding confidence in herself and courage through that relationship, she’s taking risks she never would have before, and learning that her perceived flaws are actually strengths. When talking to Warden Hatch at Pennhurst with Nancy, it’s her runaway way with words that saves them and leaves Nancy incredibly impressed. The unmasked, unfiltered, beautiful gay disaster Robin Buckley is the person Nancy comes to admire and develops a deep fondness for.

It’s been said many times before, but Robin and Nancy complete each other. As we’ve just established, Nancy quickly becomes a source of reassurance, inspiration and affirmation for Robin. And Robin is someone who can keep up with Nancy’s laser-focused fixations and faced-paced thinking, who can challenge her to consider things she never would have otherwise. She also encourages Nancy to be more honest with herself and makes her feel at ease at a time when she’s more lost than ever. Robin is always carefully reading Nancy and respects her opinions and feelings; she’s the friend and confidant Nancy has been missing in her life all this time since losing Barb.

When they’re talking in the woods, it’s not what Robin says about Steve or Jonathan that Nancy latches onto. What truly takes her aback is the realisation that Robin considers them to be friends, and both quietly, bashfully blush and smile to themselves at that confirmation. However adrift Nancy might be from her complex feelings over Jonathan and Steve or her unhealed emotional scars, she’s found an anchor in someone. However insecure Robin might feel about herself, she’s found a girl who she doesn’t have to pretend with.

And then we come to perhaps the most revealing scene of the season so far: when Eddie, Steve, Nancy and Robin are on the boat over Lover’s Lake. The parallels to Tammy Thompson are evident as Robin stares at Nancy who can’t pull her eyes away from Steve, and the way in which the camera focuses on the two characters in the frame imparts so much more than Robin simply being happy for the rekindled feelings of her friends. Her longing expression breaking into a soft smile and the bowing of her head feels like the sad acceptance of something she believes to be unattainable for her.

Nancy demonstrates her trademark reckless abandon to protect the people she loves when she dives in to rescue Steve without hesitation after he’s pulled under, but Robin’s reaction is gut-wrenching as she cries out Nancy’s name and reaches for her. And then Robin, who beneath her snarky facade is far more scared than she likes to let on, pushes down those fears and without wasting a second moves to go after her with a sense of resigned determination. The framing of this scene, the dialogue and Maya Hawke’s performance make it clear that Robin is willingly following Nancy Wheeler into hell. As Eddie says, that’s as sure a sign of true love as these cynical eyes have ever seen.

Regardless of whether the romantic subtext is intentional or this relationship is supposed to remain strictly platonic, Nancy and Robin’s blossoming friendship is a very special one. Having swiftly dismantled their presumptions about one another, they’ve found true synergy, inspiring and pushing each other to be the best versions of themselves. In spite, or rather because of their differences, the two are slowly but surely forging a profound bond that is already one of the most charming and memorable on the show to date, and with any luck, we’ll get some meaningful and moving payoffs to their arcs together in Vol 2. Perhaps, through each other, Nancy and Robin will finally find the closure, catharsis and connection they’ve been yearning for.

Thanks so much to @meanlesbianrobin for providing the accompanying screenshots!

#stranger things #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #ronance #meta #stranger things spoilers #stranger things 4 spoilers #long post #mine

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victoriadallonfan · 2 months

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Hi, since I haven't seen anyone mention this on reddit or tumblr, I'd just like to say, as someone whose first language isn't english, Worm's cape names are fucking weird. Are all of them words? Who knows, i read Worm and Ward without knowing Eidolon and Brandish are real words and not made up words. Or they are words i know but idk wich meaning is? Is March like the month or like the organized walking verb? So do all cape names mean something, and say something about the one who chose them? I refuse to google them at this point, but Anelace? Cinereal? Myrrdin? Couldn't they pick more known 2 word combinations? Do parahumans get a discount on thesaurus? Thats all I wanted to say, thanks. PS. Wildbow, the fuck you doing using Califa de Perro as a name, couldn't you ask any Spanish speaker?, i'll kill you.

BIG ANALYSIS INCOMING

Eidolon = spectre, phantom, and idolized object/person

Brandish = to flourish and wave about an item, usually a weapon. Also an epitaph for Athena

March = to move in a uniform manner and derivative of the roman god of war, Mars

Anelace = double-sided dagger used by civilians

Cinereal = grey matter of the brain and nervous system

Myrrdin = Too many to count but generally tied to Myrddin Wylt, prophetic folklore bard and a facet of Merlin (genuinely more work than I can ever give on the topic of how insanely intertwined those myths are)

The thing about Wildbow's cape names are two-fold:

In the 80+ years of superhero genre, a LOT of cape names have been chosen and used already. Taylor mentions this to Armsmaster as a meta-joke in the first arc (ironically, DC also has a Skitter, who debuted in 2011.... the same year as Worm), so he has to be creative and sometimes creativity is simplicity.

He loves giving character names multiple meanings.

To go down the list:

Eidolon's name is ironic, because he notably not idolized (and pushed out of the spotlight compared to Legend), and he ends up becoming one of GU's spectres.

Brandish creates weapons, yes, but there's connection to Pallas (brandishing) and Athena accidentally killing him while distracted to Victoria accidentally caving her head in while distracted. (There are several story iterations, including one where they had a parental relationship).

March is about how she organizes her megacluster like an army or marching band, but also reference to her civilian name (May), the Mad March Hare from Alice in Wonderland (which her entire fight with Vista is a huge reference to), and the Ides of March (notorious for the stabby stab stab of Julius Caesar)

Anelace is a master of weapons, but he's notably reluctant about that fact, and is noted to have a healthy civilian life by other characters

Cinereal is the grey matter of the brain. She is the Atlanta Protectorate leader that turns things into grey matter (ash)

Myrddin = See the King Arthur and various clusterfuck of mythos

Even his main characters have this: Taylor tailor makes her outfits and is a silk Weaver, Khepri is an Egyptian god that bring a sunny morning... and she debuted on Gold Morning. Victoria is a Roman Goddess of Victory (Contessa uses her to find "the Path to Victory"), Antares means "Anti-Ares/Rival of Ares/Anti-War" and is the constellation "heart of the scorpion" which is Victoria inside of the wretched forcefield. We can even stretch this to Khepri and Antares: Khepri is a beetle that carries the sun on to a new day. Antares is a binary sun system (with one sun being invisible to the naked eye). In the slaughterhouse 9 fight, Taylor and her beetle (khepri) carry Victoria and the fragile one (antares) to safety (to live another day).

WE CAN EVEN GO FURTHER: Atlas is the man holding up the sky in Greek Mythology, which Taylor names her beetle. Victoria's PHO name is Point_Me_@_The_Sky (which is also a Pink Floyd reference). In Worm, Atlas holds Victoria up in the sky.

Its really fun to analyze.

Califa seems to be a simple goof. Or maybe Taylor just butchered his name.

They can't all be winners.

#parahumans #wildbow #ward #ward web serial #wardblr #worm #victoria dallon #antares #glory girl #worm web serial #wormblr #taylor hebert #skitter #weaver #literature analysis

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luvfy0dor · 7 months

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Henlo

You know who it is, we all know, henlo

I feel like I’ve been here a lot recently

Just starting off with saying I loved the Dazai piece. It was really cute. Dad Dazai trying his best, made my heart melty

But I think you know why I’m here today

On this day

Honestly the day doesn’t entirely matter but I’m here on THIS one

With the dad Fyodor thought I promised

Cuz here I was thinking to myself. I feel like Fyodor definitely wants his child or children having some connection to Russian culture, since that’s a part of them too, regardless of their other parent’s nationality or background, he definitely wants his included. (Tho his partner could totally do the same)

So I was wondering, would you like a piece of him either teaching his children Russian or making Russian food for them? Or really sharing any Russian cultural thing with them at all. Honestly whatever one is easier for you to write or go into detail with, they’re all equally cute.

Cuz if his child or children develop a connection to that, I feel like that would make him a lot happier than maybe he would fully show.

I hope this ask sparks the creative brain juices in a fun way

Also considering sending a Halloween themed request at some point idk… oh but who knows!We’re here rn and having fun with this, that’s all we need at the moment

Also real glad you enjoy my messages lol. I will absolutely keep sending. Take as long as you need

-the person here attempting to give everyone baby fever because it’s funny

This blog’s Dad Fyodor anon

"da!" - Dad!Fyodor x GN!Reader ੈ✩‧₊˚

Warnings; Google translate Russian, not much reader involvement, very minimal proofreading happened

Description; Dad!Fyodor teaching his child about Russian culture! It incorporates ideas from the first dad!Fyodor part.

A/n; YESYESYES I one hundred percent agree, I think about this on the regular OMG I hope I depicted this well bc my knowledge on Russia isn't all that extensive lol, if you have any corrections, do tell me!! : ) Also I'm gonna be so fr I had NO idea what to name this so we're rolling with da I guess.............

Headcannons !! ༊*·˚

★ He teaches his child/children classical Russian music when they're old enough to play more difficult pieces. Until then, he'll settle for twinkle twinkle little star.

★ Introduces his children to ballet.

★ His children have a variety of Russian-originating toys, such as Matryoshka/Russian nesting dolls, rocking horses etc.

★ Brings his children to Russia at least once, specifically to Moscow (irl Dostoevsky was raised in Moscow, so we're gonna assume BSD Dostoevsky was too) to experience the culture first hand.

★ Teaches his children the foundations of the Russian language. He would like them to fluently speak it one day, though.

★ Cooks Russian food for them like I mentioned and included in the first part.

★ They learn about Russian history from their father, anywhere from Peter the Great to fur trade and all that jazz

Scenario !! ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

(as always, p/t is parental title, d/n is daughters name)

Your head leaned against your fist while you watched your husband and daughter focus on their current activity. D/n carefully picked the colors and pigments she would use to color in the white spaces on her paper, and Fyodor just tried to keep things inside the lines. You could see the little girls tongue slightly sticking out from between her lips in concentration, making you smile.

Your daughter went to pick her next color, chosing a pink crayon to fill in the nose of the cat. "Papa, what'd you say your hat was called again? The one you always wear." She clarifies, even though there was really only one hat that Fyodor would wear at all. His eyes don't leave his thin paper as he replies, "A ushanka, and it's from Russia, malyshka." He answered, pushing some of his hair out of his face and behind his ear. "Russia." She says, the sound not unfamiliar, but not common to her either. "Where's that?" She tilts her head upwards, putting her crayon down to signify her attention on her papa. He puts his down too and rests his arms on top of one another.

"Quite far, but it is in both Asia and Europe. That's how big it is, it stretches over two continents." He says, a smile on his face. Her eyes widen a little. "That is really big. Have you been there before?" Her head tilts and she shifts a bit in her seat. "I grew up there, in the city of Moscow." He says, happy with her clear interest in his motherland.

"We should go there for a vacation one day!" She says, a grin on her face. He laughs a little bit and nods. "I agree, we definetly should." He agrees, fantasizing about it in his head. "Is that why you talk like that?" She questions her fathers accent, skittering around the table and climbing onto his lap. He smiles gently and nods. "Yes, it's called an accent, malyshka. I learned English, but Russian is my mother tongue. There are a lot of different pronunciations for certain sounds in Russian." He tells her, his hands fidgeting with the young girls hair. He parts it into three sections and starts to braid it.

"Is everything different there?" Fyodor hums, thinking as he weaves her hair into a gorgeous French braid. "Well, it definitely very different, but I don't think I would say everything." He says. "There are more historical differences than anything, if I do say so myself." She hums in understanding. "Papa, can you teach me some Russian?" She asks, turning her head to look at him with puppy dog eyes, even though she really didn't need them. He smiled and nodded.

"What should I teach you?" He softly questions, looking into the young girls eyes. She thinks for a moment, tapping her pointer finger on her chin. "I don't know! Whatever you want." She says, just excited to hear another language. He chuckles softly. "я не знаю, что тебе сказать" (I don't know what to tell you) he responds, a small grin on his face. Her eyes widen, almost as if she never believed he could speak a different language. You giggle a bit at her reaction.

"What does that mean?!" She excitedly asks, her mind seemingly blown over this. "It simply means I don't know what to tell you." He speaks. "But I can tell you the simple stuff. Like 'да' means yes and 'нет' means no. Hello is 'привет' and goodbye is 'до свидания'."

The young girl takes a mental note of these words. "привет, papa! I think I said that right." She says. You proudly watch the scene go down. Fyodor gives you a similarly prideful smile. "Yes, you did wonderful, malyshka." He praises her, patting her shoulder. "I'll have to teach you more one day." She nods vigorously, very obviously wanting him to. "Yes! And then we can have secret conversations, no one else will know what we're saying!" She snickers, making him smile.

A/n; I hope this is alright!! I loved this request a whole lot. Oh, also, feel free to send in that Halloween request even though it's November now lol

"Oh, ofcourse. That will probably be rather far in the future, though." He says, removing her from his lap and gently patting her back. "That's okay. If I learn more I'll know more words." She states the obvious. "And I'm gonna learn from the best russian ever." She beams, making Fyodor grin. "That's right, sweetheart."

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donnabenevientosimpingzone · 4 months

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🔫

Can I have more Donna headcanons plz. I'm a lonely lesbian who loves fiction female Italians

Lmao I got plenty<3

- y’all probably know I interpret her pretty differently. She’s a lot stronger and independent than the normal but she’s still a super anxious and shy individual. She’s a beautiful paradox I cannot begin to describe.

- She’s high functioning depressed and autistic. On the surface she’s someone who has order and routine- who can handle being at meetings with others and talk to people as equals- but spend enough time with her and you’ll see that she will just lay in bed and not get out. That she thinks herself as smaller than others.

- Angie is a side of herself she’s stored away, the memories and personality Donna had with Claudia. In order to keep that final happiness, all those memories are stored in Angie and has influenced the doll to be the way she is.

- Donna has never experimented with her powers to know their full capabilities. Even the concept that she can cause nightmarish hallucinations to kill someone without raising a blade terrifies her.

- She has an accent that comes through when she’s tired or just not thinking about it. Sometimes it’s so heavy that even she’ll jump at the sound of her own voice.

- Cursed solely in Italian. Angie’s the one that says “fuck” and Donna can live through her.

- Donna cannot take full control of Angie, just heavily influence her- if Angie doesn’t want to do something then Donna can’t force her hand. It rarely happens though.

- On uncommon days she’ll walk through her woods around the manor with Angie. Her anxiety, esteem, and motivation must all line up but every time she doesn’t regret it and comes home with a sense of peace.

- A horrible fidget when she’s not aware of it. During meetings or talks or anything that her brain is running anxiety on- she’s still as stone. But at home, she’ll speak to Angie with her mind unable to focus on one thing. Her hands will play with her hair, tug at her dress, tap against a teacup- head swaying to watch strands of hair swish in and out of her vision- feet shuffling against the floor, picking at scabs or the peeling skin beneath her fingernails- just to name a few. You’d have to be very close to her to see any of it in action for yourself though.

- Existentially stuck in the past. Although she’s aware of the present and what the future may hold- she’s constantly thinking about the past, comparing it, using it to determine what person she is. Getting close to her is a difficult task when the past still haunts her and controls her.

- During episodes of breakdowns where she just does not want to live like this anymore, she’ll pick and pull at the Cadou infesting her eye. Cursing it for keeping her alive.

- Her anger manifests in two ways; a depressive self hatred that causes her to coil in on herself- where she feels guilty for being angry at all and tells herself over and over to just suck it up, it’s not a big deal- or an expressed destruction where she loses majority of control over her powers and dolls run rampant.

- Her sadness is a building cycle. She’ll get upset at something and cry, but absolutely hate herself for it and scold herself for being weak, which then makes her feel worse, and she’ll continue this cycle until she’s exhausted and just can’t cry anymore.

- She’s a mix of self loathing and self love. On one hand she will destroy any mirror she sees her reflection in and go days punishing herself for simply existing, but on the other hand she really does want to love herself. It manifests as a weird ball of complex feelings- she could be proud of an accomplishment but also feel shit that it isn’t the number one best accomplishment ever- and that she’s a fool for being happy about it. Yet she keeps it around, calling upon it as a comfort… even if at the same time it brings her pain.

- Simultaneously wants romance and affection but also absolutely terrified by it. She’ll read the books and let her creativity run wild, surprisingly a hopeless romantic, but if it’s even an inch close to her in reality- she’ll rather run.

- She’s on the autistic spectrum to mistake normal, platonic affection as romantic. Hell even if she doesn’t have feelings for that person- she’ll gaslight herself to “catch feelings.” In the past, she’s fucked up a relationship that way- becoming an aggressively toxic person for the attention, affection- wanting the person only for herself and herself only- and unknowingly manipulating them to fulfill that selfish, unconscious desire. She’s realized her mistake months after, and has become much more reserved and mindful because of it.

- A sponge for knowledge. She’s a big ole nerd, loves anything to do with science, has little mock research she’ll do with her own garden that’ll tickle her. While she herself is more on botany, Angie ends up soaking in more zoology, both of their knowledge combined is beyond impressive.

- She feels music very deeply in her heart. Doesn’t matter if it’s instrumentals or with lyrics, it resonates with her strongly and she has strong attachment to particular songs based on memories, feeling, and hope.

- Sleeps with some sort of noise- white noise, music, the rain- sleeping in complete silence unnerves her.

- Wakes up to Angie screaming in her face every morning. Wouldn’t have it any other way<3

- Angie eats and drinks in small amounts, the Cadou is still a parasite that needs substance, but since it’s a part of Donna’s Cadou- Donna can sometimes feel the effects of what Angie eats. Woman could be taking a stroll and suddenly taste dirt cuz Angie ate shit chasing a squirrel.

- Protective of the remaining eye. The Cadou took away the sight in the eye it infects so Donna has learned to deal with challenged depth perception. She’ll often reach for things too far right or left if she ever got full vision back.

- Silent walker without even meaning to be. She also somehow manages to silently run (if she is on the unique occasion to jog through the woods).

- Doesn’t sweat easily. Her body is already naturally pretty cold so any form of workout will need to be pretty long/intense for her to start sweating.

- She is aware her body (especially at the ends) is pretty cold. She refuses to give anyone hand shakes because she’s secretly Elsa and will freeze yo’ ass.

- Angie jokes that Donna stands in the sun to photosynthesize, rather than to warm herself up like some kinda sunbathing lizard.

- Surprisingly very warm during the winter, Donna’s an ice pack in the summer and a heat pack in the winter.

- No she doesn’t know why either wheeze.

- On the few occasions she’s free from her anxieties- Donna is quite chaotic. She used to be the prankster of the family and still has part of that alive within her- Angie especially has to be the victim of said pranks (but she loves it no matter how loudly she complains)

- Doesn’t like to have pictures of herself taken, but Donna does have a rare few in-the-moment photos she adores.

#ask #resident evil village #resident evil #donna beneviento #headcannons

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siriuslysmoking · 4 months

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Hi! I’ve never done an ask but I love your writing and I was just vibing to my autumn playlist and there’s this song by the backseat lovers, I don’t know if you know of them. But it’s called Maple Syrup and I guess creative part of my brain is on because I immediately thought of something based off of that song with Eddie. Like “I saw you dancing at the show tonight, I stood in the back and I think that we both know why” or “did it hurt? When I kicked you to the curb? Now I’m all alone. I guess I’ll never learn” has some pretty good lines. Sorry this is long I’ve never done a request before, but I hope you take a listen and it sparks something for you too! x

Cutting Ties

A/N: it's ex Eddie. Steve and Reader aren't dating, bu they are both there for each other on extreme levels. Also, I know that this trope is overused.

Pairing: Eddie munson x Reader | Steve Harrington x Reader

Warnings: fem!reader, she/her pronouns, talks of miscarriage, hurt/no comfort

Summary: When bad memories come strolling back into town you try to protect the few things that you hold sacred.

-Did it hurt when I kicked you to the curb? Now I'm all alone I guess I'll never learn-

He made it big, you always knew he would, you used to talk about it when you both were in high school.

It’s been four years since he left, not wanting to be tied down. Or whatever that means.

You were twenty when he left.

Now, you had your life put together, you had a job with a stable income, you had a roof over your head. You are able to support your daughter in anything she wants to do. She’s in gymnastics and she loves it, it’s a way to get her energy out during the day.

Steve… Steve is your rock.

From the start Steve has been by your side, supporting you in every decision you make. Holding your hand while you sit in doctors appointments. He held you as you cried when the doctor left the room after announcing that you might lose her.

He sat next to you during your twelve hour labour, rubbing your shoulders are you tried to breathe.

You made sure Wayne was in Mia's life, he deserved that much, Eddie doesn't call him anymore.

You didn't know he was in town, you wish you would've. Steve agreed to meet you at three to pick the both of you up after Wayne had made the both of you lunch. The three of you started a tradition, every sunday Wayne would pick you up and either take you out to lunch or one of you would make something.

It was nice. Steve worked sundays so he would pick you up after work.

You wish someone had told you he was in town.

But when there is knocks on the door at 2:30, you meet Wayne's curious eyes, "Did ya boy get off early?"

"I don't think so." You hand Mia her brownie that Wayne had made for dessert, giving her a kiss on the forehead while Wayne goes to get the door.

"Eds! W-what are you doin' here?"

"That's not the welcome I was expecting, old man."

"Wasn't exceptin' ya."

"That's usually what a surprise visit is." Wayne looks to you and it's not like you can't let him in, so you just nod, giving him permission.

Mia has noticed the disruption, stopping mid chew as a strange man walks in. You try to obscure Eddie's view of her the best you can.

Eddie walks in and meets your eyes. He opens his mouth say something but Mia interrupts him. "Mamma, I can't see."

Eddie's eyes go wide as you slowly move over to the side. "Hi! What's your name? Are you grampa's friend?"

"I-I don't understand."

You just sigh, turning to Mia, "Baby, I'm gonna go outside and you're gonna stay and eat this delicious brownie that Wayne made you, okay?"

"otay." and just like that she begins shoving her face once more.

You softly close the door behind you after motioning for Eddie to go outside. "What- Who is that?"

"That's my daughter." You cross your arms as Eddie moves to the picnic bench, you just sit at on the bench while he paces back and forth.

"How old is she?" He knows the answer, you don't have to give it to him, but you do.

"Three."

"You should've told me." Eddie finally meets you eyes, "You should've fucking told me!"

"How?! How was I supposed to tell you? Call you? I didn't have your number, I didn't get an address. You left and said you didn't want to be tied down. What more to tie you down more than a child?" You huff, rolling your eyes at his audacity.

"Even Wayne knew?"

"Once I had her, it was hard to keep quiet." You run your hands through your hair, "It didn't take him long to connect the dots."

"He didn't tell me." Eddie looks angry, he's completely fuming.

"You stopped calling!" You throw your hands in the air, looking at him from across the table.

"Does everyone know?"

"No, they think-" You get cut off by a door opening to your left, it's not the trailer door, it's a car.

"Hey hone-" Steve pauses, looking to you, then meeting Eddie's eyes, "Munson."

"Harington?"

"Steve, will you go get Mia?"

"Uh-yeah."

"Her name is Mia?" Eddie's expression goes soft at that.

That's when Steve walks in the trailer, the door open enough for the words Mia shouts to echo out to the two of them. "Dada!"

"Hey pumpkin."

Eddie meets your eyes, "Is that my daughter calling Steve Fucking Harrington Dad?"

"She's not yours."

"She isn't? So she doesn't have my hair and my eyes?"

"She was and will never be yours, you threw away that chance when you kicked me to the curb."

"I-" He doesn't know what to say and you have no more words for him. So when Steve comes walking out the door with Mia and your bag in his arms, you just turn and get into the car.

likes are reblogs are appreciated <3

#eddie munson x female reader #stranger things s4 #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson x y/n #steve harrigton x reader #eddie stranger things #steve harrington x plus sized reader #steve harrington x plus size!reader #steve harrington x reader #hurt/no comfort

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spatialwave · 7 months

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thinking about the last ask someone made about jordan and bras, and marie asking jordan about their powers and they stumble on how they choose clothes that fit and then the bra question is made, or maybe is when they are already dating and marie just ask plainly "do you ever wear a bra?" and jordan explains that most of the times no but they like lacy bralettes and marie just a little

ok this topic makes me BLUSH because jordan is just… learning!!! 🥺 also, i took a bit of a creative spin on this i hope you like it.

since jordan had discovered their powers as a young child, they were taught by their father that it wasn’t good to be a girl whenever they wanted. that jordan was their first born son, and that was more important than being able to shift into the opposite gender. they often looked to their mom for support, who couldn’t give it.

jordan had learned a thing or two from their friends in high school, a couple girls who were open-minded and elated to teach them. they learned about the wonders of makeup, feminine underclothing, periods. the gritty details of being a woman.

though, jordan didn’t switch as much as they wanted because of fear from their father, especially as they reached those late teen years. it was becoming a secret to spend time with their friends as a woman, only jordan knew of the fiery arguments that would happen at home if their father found out.

it wasn’t until godolkin when they found real freedom. feeling comfortable enough to switch as they pleased, even finding comfort in having sex as a woman. it was so new and it was so real.

though, as they refined their powers and learned to quickly switch between, they had to start figuring out how to dressing for comfort… underneath.

they preferred to wear boxers in both forms, but bras were a fucking nightmare. they hated them with a passion because they didn’t quite learn how to find something that fit properly. they gave up on it for awhile, deciding that finding a cheap sports bra could help when they were training — but that was it.

but nothing could fight off their curiosity for how cute underwear looked on them. the way the lace curved over their body, how they didn’t mind the way it looked on both of their forms. it was a secret indulgence of theirs — one that wasn’t practical, but just for them.

“uh, jordan,” marie spoke as she looked through their partner’s dresser. she had just been digging around, looking for a shirt that jordan said she could borrow when she lifted out a black, lacy bralette that dangled from her finger.

she wasn't here to shame jordan, they were a college student longer than she was. she did her best to shove that jealousy way, way down and not once did it strike her that it was theirs until she saw the red that formed on their cheeks.

"that's, uh... yeah, that's...." jordan stuttered.

"it’s yours?" marie asked, blinking at them a few times.

silence filled jordan’s room as they stared down at her, having been standing and in the middle of throwing a sweater on.

"yeah."

marie parted her lips to answer, but she was completely taken back. it was like her brain was short-circuiting as she imagined jordan in her mind, wearing the black bralette. beautiful, beautiful jordan.

it made her feel perverted, so she quickly dropped it back into the dresser, her own cheeks warm to the touch.

“i just didn’t realize that you-“

“wear bras?” jordan interrupted, finishing sliding the hoodie over their frame as they walked over to her. they bent down and picked it up, trying so hard to find some semblance of confidence about the situation — what was so weird about jordan wearing bras? they had boobs… most of the time, “does that make you uncomfortable?” they asked quietly, gaze flickering to her.

“oh, no, i love it. i mean, not… love. well, yeah, i probably do love it,” she babbled out as she looked up at them, finding it all the more awkward as she stared at them in their male form, “i’m sure it looks really good on you.” she clarified with an exasperated, airy laugh.

jordan’s lips curved into the shyest smile, “i don’t wear it much. it’s not the most comfortable thing to wear like… this.” he motioned to his current form, “but it looks nice. both ways.”

marie simply stared up at jordan, feeling her heart slamming against her chest. mouth growing dryer with each passing second.

“can you show me?”

#limoreau #jordan li x marie moreau #jordan li #marie moreau #gen v #wordsbyspatial #spatialanswers

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violetsiren90 · 1 year

Text

All I Haven't Said | Namjoon/Reader

Table of Contents: Chapter 1; Chapter 2; Chapter 3 (part 1), Chapter 3 (part 2)

Pairing: idol!Namjoon/f!Reader

Genre: Soulmate AU; idol AU; chapter fic; strangers to lovers; a bit of idiots to lovers, tbh; slow burn; eventual romance; eventual smut; angst (life is messy & hearts are complex); OT7 featured

Summary: You found your soulmate - or rather, he found you. Turns out he's an idol of much acclaim who needs you for very real and unglamorous reasons. What could become of two hearts so used to giving of themselves when they are confronted with needing each other?

Warnings: 18+ (minors, dni), realistic depictions of cancer and cancer treatment; mention of unfeatured character death (previous to plot); emotional health growth and development; eventual smut; feelings and dealing with feelings (no, but seriously, so many feelings)

Author's Note: First and foremost - Blame Me chapter 1 will still be tentatively dropping by the end of the week. However, this just literally wrote itself last night after a couple of drinks and several streams of Lonely 💔. It was the thing that just poured out of me and could not be stopped. It's been simmering in the back of my brain for a while, and so, now that it's out here, I'm going to be posting it in tandem with Blame Me, probably on alternate weeks (if I can manage it, 😅). I want to give credit to those whose works I have read which have come to set the stage for my concept of the soulmate au, and who are far my betters in creative artistry: Matchy, author of balls-to-the-walls masterpiece Trip No Further, Fallencairns, author of lovely work of art Turbulence, and @teenagebountyhunter , to whom I dedicate this work 💜 the author of the ineffably beautiful Namjoon soulmate fic Bloom (RUN to read this immediately) - the inspiration for what is to humbly follow below. If you're checking this out, thanks a million for reading, and please don't be shy in offering feedback should you be so inclined! (Baby fic writer here, constructive criticism always welcome!)

Without further ado, chapter one is under the cut.

P.S. Tag list is open. If you want in, let me know. 😊

P.P.S. In case no one has told you today, you're loved and worthy of love. 🧜💜

“When your hands leap towards mine, love, what do they bring me in flight? Why did they stop at my lips, so suddenly, why do I know them, as if once before, I have touched them, as if, before being, they traveled my forehead, my waist?”

~ Pablo Neruda

Chapter 1: The Cure

Diana dipped another three fries in ketchup and popped them into her mouth.

"So, what do you need to talk about that has you desperate enough to buy me lunch?" She smiled smugly and sipped and her milkshake.

You hadn't touched the burger in front of you, even if you probably should be absolutely relishing in it, considering your future prospects. You picked up a sweet potato fry and stared at it absently.

"I found my soulmate," you stated flatly.

Diana's jaw dropped mid-chew, unpleasantly framing the masticated remains of a mouthful of turkey club.

"Wait, are you serious?" she pressed, round hazel eyes wide and unblinking.

You dipped the fry down into the little cup of ranch and swirled it around slowly.

"Actually, he found me. Well, his people found me," you continued.

"Huh? So is he some kind of a big deal - wait...they found you? What does that even mean? Wait, no - you have a soulmate?!"

You smiled ruefully. It was kind of nice to see someone else freaking out about it for a change. You had known your little sister would react strongly, which is why you had waited until now give her the news.

"Y/n, ANSWERS," Diana demanded leaning forward to flick your forehead.

"Ow!" you protested, rubbing the throbbing spot on your brow. "Keep your pants on, geez!"

You sighed. After having relayed this story to your mom, your doctor, a specialist, legal advisory, your best friend, your brother and his wife, and your very disappointed boss, you had gotten pretty good telling it. Yet, somehow, each time the burden of it's truth felt a little heavier. You ate the fry. It was pretty good. You wished it had sucked so it wouldn't be one more edible thing you missed the prospect of.

"So apparently, a couple of years ago a university in Switzerland found a way to match soulmates using DNA testing. Don't ask me about the exact science of it - I do not understand it. What I do know is that it's illegal to use this technology to locate your soulmate in the US."

"Why?" Diana had abandoned her food and was listening with rapt attention.

"Something about privacy rights. Though they've dealt with that issue in Switzerland - people interested in finding their soulmates join a biological registry. I'm sure our government is just waiting to find a way that big pharma can exploit it before they facilitate the process. Anyway, somehow, I ended up in a foreign registry. I guess there is a black market for soulmate data..."

"Oh my god, could I be on the black market?" Diana gasped, slapping her hands over her mouth.

"I guess anyone could, provided they've ever been treated at a hospital, or given blood, or anything of the sort...but calm down! It doesn't even matter unless you have a match, which is rare."

"So he found you on the black market?! That's so fucking sketchy, Y/n."

"It was his company, actually. I got a visit from representatives of an organization called Hybe. They are some kind of South Korean entertainment conglomerate. One of their employees, a musician, is dying of cancer. Seeing if he had a soulmate was a last-ditch effort to save his life. Now everything is banking on me and my cooperation."

You flicked your eyes up to your sister. Her expression had morphed into something far more somber.

"Heavy..." she whispered.

You nodded.

"What are you gonna do?"

You took a bite of your burger. She wasn't going to like your answer. Diana's face changed again, this time registering alarm and indignation.

"No," she murmured, "No, Y/n. You're just gonna do it, aren't you? You're gonna go be the fucking hero! You're going to traipse off to Korea and save his sketchy, ungrateful ass!"

She stood up, her chair screeching back over the concrete and drawing the attention of other diners on the patio. You glanced around apologetically.

"Diana, sit down! And how do you know if he's grateful or not?!" you hissed.

"No!" she countered defiantly, yanking her hand away from where you had reached for it. "You always do this! You never, ever think of yourself. And now you'll be gone forever...is this even safe?"

Tears had started to well up in her eyes, and the glances around you had turned into stares and whispers. You stood up and pulled her into a hug.

"Hey, hey, it's okay! Lets get out of here and I can answer all of your questions, alright?" She sniffled.

"Okay. But you're not leaving me." You smiled and huffed out a laugh pulling her toward the parking lot.

You had anticipated that Diana would disapprove of your decision, and it being as difficult a situation as it was, you had decided to make all the arrangements and choices necessary before telling her. She loved you so fiercely, she would have watched the world burn before letting you break a nail, if she could help it.

After your father's death nearly twenty years ago, you had become protector and provider to Diana and your younger brother Henry, three years her senior, in ways your sensitive and unworldly mother seemed unequipped to shoulder. If they had both not been so established and secure in the trajectory of their adult lives, you would have made it clear to Hybe that you regrettably had nonnegotiable responsibilities right where you were. But Henry was settled into a suburb with a lovely wife and year-old daughter, Diana was set to finish undergrad and head off to nursing school, and the deal with Hybe had actually allowed you to leverage for your Mom's retirement, so you were boarding a flight to Korea next week to take on a new set of cares and concerns.

You tossed your keys on the table on your way into your apartment and collapsed onto your comfy red couch. While Diana rooted around your fridge and loudly complained about the lack of hard seltzer, you sorted through the mail and made a mental note to add a forwarding address on a few of your accounts and subscriptions, including the one supplying you with Nightwing comics. You set the mail aside and took a moment to look around you.

You loved your little apartment. The kitchen was small, but the big window with the spider plant hanging in it made it one of your favorite rooms - the herb garden on the counter and the fully stocked bar above the fridge did nothing to make you like it any less. The earthy brown walls of the living space were littered with shelves full of candles and living plants and quirky curios, and in and amongst them hung framed watercolors of flowers and herbs that you had painted yourself. The record player sat at the ready in the corner by the wall dedicated almost exclusively to books and vinyl. There was a small tv over the stone-lined fireplace. Over your shoulder your soft, queen sized bed with sheer canopy cozily called your named from the single bedroom.

The whole place smelled like citrus and cinnamon. In every corner, there was you. It was going to be hard to leave the hobbit hole you had so lovingly curated for yourself over the last half-a-decade...especially since you wouldn't be going "there and back again", but just...there.

Diana plopped down next to you, breaking your reverie.

"So, you're NOT going, but tell me about the huge mistake you ALMOST made," Diana prompted as she side-eyed you, taking a sip of the wine she had poured herself.

You set the comic book you had been thumbing through aside and drew your knees up to your chest as you swiveled to face her impatient stare.

"Last week, a these three people showed up at my door, two men and a woman, and they said they were from a company called Hybe based in South Korea. One of their employees, a singer named Kim Namjoon, has stage 4 liver cancer. I guess they caught it pretty late in the game, so even the most aggressive treatments aren't doing much good. Back in April the doctor gave him two months to live."

"Damn," Diana interjected softly.

"Yeah, that's why all of this is happening so fast. He needs me as soon as I can get there."

"We need you, too," she whispered, reaching out to loop her finger into the top of your sock. You smiled affectionately.

"I know, Di, but you're a grown woman now and you can take care of yourself. You're going to have to and I know you can. Life really won't be that different - you'll be off to school in San Diego anyway! Most of our hangouts were going to be over Facetime...now you'll just have an excuse for a little international travel."

She heaved a stuttering sigh.

"Speaking of travel...Johnny broke up with me," she mumbled.

Your mouth hung open in shock.

"Oh my god, Di, I'm so sorry! Why didn't you tell me?"

She downed her remaining wine and stared into the empty glass, twirling it between her fingers.

"I was gonna, but when I told mom last week she said to wait to talk to you about it because you were dealing with something stressful. Now I know what she meant."

You shook your head.

"Ugh, Mom..."

Your sweet, nonconfrontational mother, while you loved her deeply, was a horrible communicator. Whenever she got involved things like this always ended up worse. You looked at your sister twiddling with her wine glass. She looked so small. And Diana, while she exuded many things, very rarely seemed diminutive. You grabbed her and pulled her to you, and she instantly snuggled into your chest.

"I'm sorry you've had to hold that in all this time," You said softly, stroking her hair, "You really could have told me. How are you doing? Was it bad?"

She shook her head against you.

"Nah, it wasn't so bad. He's going to travel before starting grad school and wants to 'sow some wild oats'," she answered, flashing air quotes.

You couldn't see her face, but the acerbic nature of her tone told you just exactly what she thought of that concept. You snickered. Atta' girl. You'd never liked that guy much, anyway.

"What an asshole," you remarked.

"Yeah, he better not hit me up in a couple of months when he's done fucking his way through Europe."

"Fuuuuuck that," you commiserated.

"Yeah, so I thought this summer would be our last hurrah. You know, no guys, just you and me...like old times" Diana mumbled in a voice that was all sulking and bottom lip.

"Ahhh," you said with a smile, "So that's why you are so disappointed. Well, we still have a few days - we can make the most of them!"

Diana lifted her head from your chest and glared up at you.

"Boys ruin everything!" She whined.

You smirked softly.

"Usually I would agree with you, but the one I'm leaving for seems kind of decent, actually."

Diana frowned.

"How do you know? Did he call you or something? Wait, you never finished telling me your story!"

You hummed in assent.

"I mean, there's not much more to tell. I agreed to move out there to bond with him and begin treatment. I signed a really basic contract that will be revised when he is well enough to think about the future - or in a year, whichever comes first. They were pretty quick to meet my terms, I guess they didn't really have much choice since I was the one holding the all the cards."

"What does any of that have to do with him being a good guy?"

"Oh," you blinked, "It doesn't. You see, when they met with me they talked a lot about him. It was almost like a job interview or something. They talked about his accomplishments, his net worth, the importance of his work, and his worthiness as a person. One of the guys was actually one of his bandmates, and he had come specifically as a character reference. They had initially wanted me to sign the contract right there and then - and let me tell you, that kid they brought with them almost convinced me with his giant puppy eyes alone - but in the end I had asked for forty-eight hours to consult legal advisory and think it over. The first thing I did when they left was look him up. You actually probably already know who he is - I think I might have been the only person in the world who didn't. Have you ever heard of BTS?"

Diana jumped back like she'd been stung, clutching her chest.

"Are you about to tell me that your soulmate is a member of the biggest band in the world?" she whispered, her eyes impossibly wide.

You smirked.

"Not just a member, Di...their leader." Diana shrieked, leaping up off the couch.

"RM??? Your soulmate is RM???"

Your sister stared at you, agape, while you threw your hands up in indignation.

"I was the only person!"

"Oh my god..." Diana staggered back, demeanor having deviated sharply from disapproval to elation, "My roommate is obsessed with them! She has all these posters - but her favorite, I'm sorry, her bias, is Suga...holy shit, I can't WAIT to tell her she's gonna-"

"Diana," you interrupted her firmly, and her eyes shot up to you.

"Yeah?"

"You can't tell anyone."

Her face fell as she leaned back against the wall beside the fireplace. Clearly this was going to be even more of an emotional roller-coaster for her than it was for you, you thought in amusement. Typical.

"Everyone who I tell has to sign a gag order. You included."

Diana slid down the wall into a slump and knocked her head back.

"This situation keeps harshing my vibes, dude," she whined.

"Well, I'm exceedingly sorry about your vibes, but I'm sure they'll recover," you rejoined sardonically.

"But woah, Y/n, your boyfriend is hot. And rich. And super famous. Your wedding is going to be fucking LIT..."

"Woah, Nellie!" You cut her off, waving your hands as if you usher her train of thought into the landing strip of sanity. "Slow. Down. Wedding?? What happened to 'sketchy, ungrateful ass'?! He is NOT my boyfriend. He's supposedly my soulmate. According to some Swiss pseudoscience. We haven't even bonded yet. And if we do in fact bond, that doesn't mean we're a couple."

Diana popped her head up and fixed you with the most incredulous of stares.

"Um, excuse me...soulmates have to touch each other to survive. And I heard that the soulmate connection is better than sex. You're telling me you have the opportunity, nay, the duty, to be up in the business of one of the sexiest men alive, and you're just gonna platonically kick it for the next seventy years?"

You rolled your eyes.

"I mean, if that's what he wants - if that's what I want. Soulmates doesn't automatically equate lovers. I've been reading about people's experiences and there are some soulmates who bond platonically. Some people are already with romantic partners when they meet. Some don't share a sexual orientation that makes them compatible as lovers..."

"Oh my god, Y/n, could you please not kill the sexy by going all nerd on this?" She asked you in exasperation as her finger swiped at her phone screen.

Suddenly she shoved the phone out toward you, while tapping frantically with a neon yellow acrylic nail on the image she had summoned. She was saying something humorous and complaintive but you weren't listening. You were looking at the man in the photo.

You hadn't seen this one in your superficial search-engine dives. It was a headshot. His hair was a light brown, full at the top and styled away from his face. His skin was darker than in many of the other images you had seen, emanating a beautiful golden glow. He was smiling just enough for his right dimple to softly grace his cheek. His features were strong, masculine, and incredibly handsome. All of that was already striking, but his eyes, oh, his eyes - they were staring directly at the camera, irises only half visible under his lidded gaze, warm and sincere, so incredibly intense.

The hair stood up on the back of your neck and your breath caught in your chest in spite of you. You closed your eyes and sucked in a breath. You needed to calm down. He was just a person. Good looking? Yes. Charismatic? Obviously. But you had a job to do, and no time to screw around with schoolgirl daydreams. He probably had a girlfriend. No, definitely, he definitely had one. And hey, he was just a person, like you. No need to be star struck.

Diana had been continuing her rant, completely unaware of being ignored, when she had let out a high pitched squeal of laughter.

"Oh my god...oh my god!" She shrieked.

"What?" You snapped, your hormone-wrestling train of thought cut off abruptly.

She stared at you, lips pressed together as if she was trying to contain more loud giggles.

"What??" You demanded impatiently, your limit for her antics very swiftly approaching.

"RM. K-pop superstar, probably one of the coolest people ever born, gets YOUR dorky ass as a soulmate, HAH!"

"Hey!" you deflated, unimpressed with what she considered to be so vastly comical.

"Oh that poor man!" she pushed dramatically, "That poor, poor man. You're the least graceful, geekiest person in the western hemisphere. What will you even talk about? Good thing you don't speak Korean, you'd probably bore him to death! Shit, at least you're pretty..."

You folded your arms over your chest defensively.

"Hilarious. But actually, he's fluent in English. And I read somewhere that he likes art..."

"Y/n, he's rich," she interrupted condescendingly, "All rich people like art. It's a huge flex to own an original. If I was a billionaire I'd 'like art' too. Oh my god, I just can't believe this is happening. Like he's crazy famous..."

"And very, very sick," you reminded her softly.

Her expression fell into something contrite.

"Oh, shit, I forgot," she murmured.

"I'm glad you're excited for me, Di. It really made me feel a lot better about the whole situation seeing you get some kind of joy out of it. But I can't stress enough that this isn't a fairytale. Who knows how he feels about resorting to this. I guarantee you this is as hard for him as it is for me."

Diana crossed over to the couch and skooched in next to you.

"All jokes aside, he's lucky to have you, Y/n. You love at a thousand percent. Even if you guys just end up being soul-buddies, or whatever, he hit the jackpot," she smiled at you, that sweet smile that made you rethink everything for one split second.

Now it was your turn to try to hold back tears.

"I'm gonna miss you," she murmured, "But I respect what you're doing."

"Now that he's famous?" You prodded with a teasing smile.

"Yeah, now that he's famous," she conceded.

You pulled her into a hug. The silence that hung around you was pregnant but comfortable. Diana finally broke it with a soft question.

"So you're really going to give your whole life away for a total stranger next week?" she whispered.

"Mmhm," you hummed somberly into her hair.

"Why you always gotta be like Dad?"

A familiar lump began to form in your throat, but you swallowed it back. You always did. And Diana fell asleep in your lap one last time. You stroked her hair as you thought back, rather emotionally exhausted, over your conversation. It seemed like people thought of the soulmate connection as some kind of miracle. You didn't believe in those. People made choices, and those choices governed reality. You had just made the biggest choice of your life, and if it was like any of the other roads you had taken, it would require much of you.

The following day was your last at work. Your coworkers had greeted you with pizza, cake, flowers, and hugs. It was touching to realize how much you would be missed. Your boss, Shauna, hovered as you gathered you belongings from your desk.

"Damn it to hell, I'm gonna miss you!" She mourned for the umpteenth time.

You smiled as you tucked your little philodendron into the box, placing it next to the canvas speckled with daisies that read "You Matter" in curly green letters.

"You have an amazing team here, you guys will do great," you insisted, patting her hand where she leaned on your desk.

"Um, a great team of people you trained!" she said, consoling herself with a swipe of frosting from what had once been a beautiful red velvet cake with white buttercream.

You leaned beside her on the desk, joining her in sadly picking at the dessert remains.

After you had graduated with your degree in social work, you had landed an internship in a program which Shauna was running. The two of you quickly discovered you had similar passions and community goals, and the following year had left the program to start Magnolia Village, a one-stop shop for women's services sadly unprecedented in your area. While the startup had been rough, your passionate duo had believed in the need and refused to say die, and from your mutual blood, sweat, and tears had blossomed a cornerstone of the local community. Over the years it had grown and extended its reach to thousands in need of support. Many of the staff were women who had first come through the door seeking services, and were now your partners in providing the aid they had found empowering in their hour of need.

You were immensely proud of what the two of you had built, but leaving the Village was bittersweet, as you were more confident than ever that it had grown into a well-oiled machine powered by lovely, capable people who could keep it going at full tilt without you.

"This place basically built itself, we just propped up the scaffolding," you remarked, glancing around the building fondly - what had once been a residential fixer-upper was now a cozy space of offices, a nurse's station, six emergency beds, sanitation services, and a food pantry

"Bitch, you know very well that I am the bulldozer and you are the heart and soul of this place. We are going to feel it when you leave. You better come back and visit us. Mirabell is going to do a good job filling your shoes, though. Watching her step up to the plate has been something else."

"It has," you nodded, "She's going to kick ass. You might just forget I was ever here by the end of next week."

Shauna turned uncharacteristically tearful eyes toward you.

"I will never forget you," she choked.

Then suddenly you were being crushed in a bear hug. You returned her embrace until you thought you might actually pass out from lack of oxygen.

"Okay, I love you, but I'm about to asphyxiate!" you wheezed, slapping her on the shoulder.

She let you go, but grabbed your arm and looked at you seriously.

"I want you to promise me one thing," she said, holding your gaze.

You cocked your head to the side. Shauna released your arm to clasp both your hands in hers.

"I want you to promise me that when you get to Korea, you find something that you're gonna do for yourself."

You started to respond but she stopped you.

"Something for yourself. It doesn't matter what it is, but it can't be for your soulmate, or your family, or anyone else however deserving...just you, okay?"

You looked at her quizzically.

"I do stuff for me..."

"Don't get swallowed up, baby girl. Find someone to ground you, to remind you that you're worth more than what you have to offer."

You scoffed.

"I'd like to see someone try and swallow me..."

"Y/n,"

"What?"

"Promise me."

"Okay," you nodded, "I promise."

Shauna squeezed your hands, then went back to chipping away at the mass of red crumbs and buttercream.

A little twinge of worry twisted in the pit of your stomach. You were strong. Resilient. No one could bounce back like you, could survive like you. People knew this - they had been telling you so since you were ten years old. So why was everyone acting like you were being cast out to sea without a life preserver?

You had spent the weekend with your family. Henry and Mercedes had even driven down, Elena in tow, to have one last Sunday dinner and see you off to the airport. Hugs and tears and small parting gifts had made leaving even harder than you had imagined.

When you finally boarded the plane your eyes were red and your head was throbbing. After the plane had gained enough altitude to allow you to unfasten your seat-belt, you had slipped into the restroom to rinse your face. You returned, plopping down next to the man who would accompany you during your first few days of transition.

"I'm getting booze when they wheel it by, Matt, so don't try to stop me," you huffed, gesticulating in mild threat with the book you had extracted from your carry-on at the suited figure sitting in the window seat.

The handsome older gentleman smiled, not lifting his eyes from the copy of the Korean Herald in his hands.

"Wouldn't dream of it," he responded, flipping a large, thin page.

Matt Anders had been many things to you in life. Before you were born, he had been your father's best friend. He had been the best man at your parent's wedding. He and his wife, Rebecca, had cared for you and your siblings during your mother's sanitarium stay. He had tutored you for the SAT score that had earned you a full ride to the university that had saddled you with a BS in social work and minor in English literature. Today, he was your attorney. Matt, who had an IQ of 146, had learned basic Korean so that he could translate for you and make sure that your interests were looked after as you settled in. Having him there made you feel one hundred percent more secure about the process. He, for instance, had been the one in negotiations to ask for the very cush business-class fight accommodations you were new settling into.

"Whatever you would do for him, you'll do for her. I want an equality of treatment clause added with no addendums."

You smiled to yourself as you remembered his exchange with the Hybe's representation. He had asked for things you would have never asked for yourself, and you felt better having access to them knowing that he felt you were deserving.

The flight attendant sweetly asked if you would require any refreshments. You asked for two whiskey and cokes, and handed one over to the man beside you. You took a long, refreshing sip.

"Damn it, I wish I had appreciated food more," you sighed, looking ruefully at your glass.

"What are you going to miss the most?" Matt asked before sampling his own beverage.

"Cheese. I can't believe I'm saying that, but in the end I just love cheese. And there are so many kinds I haven't tried. Do you know there's this Italian cheese that comes in the shape of a pear? It's super expensive because of the breed of cow the milk is sourced from. It's supposedly suuuuper creamy. But, hey, now I'll never know if it's as rich and complex as they say..."

You took another sip of your drink.

"Caciocavallo Podolico," Matt remarked casually, returning to his newspaper.

"Excuse me?"

"The cheese you described, it's called Caciocavallo Podolico," he reiterated.

"You know, I should be used to it now, but I'm not. Don't think I'll ever be. How on earth do you know this stuff?" you insisted incredulously.

"Read it once," he shrugged, "And it's actually pretty famous as far as cheeses go."

"Catch-a-vayo Picadillo..." you murmured.

"No," Matt interjected succinctly. "Anything you want to go over again? We have the time, Lord knows."

You sighed.

"Can't think of anything right now. What did you think of the list of questions I sent you?"

"Very good," he nodded, "I'll be adding a few of my own, that I think should come from me, if you don't mind."

You swirled the ice in your plastic cup.

"Of course not. Thanks again for coming with me, I'd be pretty lost without you."

Matt smiled at you again, reaching over to squeeze your arm.

"You'd do just fine. But you would be flying coach."

You smirked and cracked open your book. As you flipped to your marked page, a colorful, sturdy rectangle of paper fluttered to the ground at Matt's feet. He reached down and picked it up, regarding it with a curious eye before you could snatch it quickly away and tuck it back between the pages of My Antonia.

"New bookmark?" he queried.

"Something like that," you murmured.

You thought he might press you further about the Hangul characters he had surely noted on the back, but just then the captain's voice crackled over the intercom reiterating the weather conditions in Seoul and you took the opportunity to bury your nose back between the pages. You glanced clandestinely over at Matt, who had settled back into the Korean Herald, before pulling the little watercolor card from between the pages where it had been hurriedly concealed. Your eyes traced over the purple clematis trailing elegantly across the illustration as you wondered if 12 hours was, in fact, a millisecond or an eternity.

-End Ch. 1-

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