#yes i know he’s middle aged and a grown ass man but he also looks like cersi so i based his face off of hers

[duckytree]

i am jealous of jaime lannister because i too want to be the most beautiful man in the world and having my slutty little waist grabbed by a woman who can snap me in half

#jaime x brienne #jaime lannister #brienne of tarth #braime #game of thrones #got #asoiaf #people who hate jaime are just jealous #he pulled 2 of the hottest women in westeros and for what #granted one of them was his sister #but the other one is 👌👌 #art #fanart #duckytree #yes i know he’s middle aged and a grown ass man but he also looks like cersi so i based his face off of hers

[suzukiblu]

Ko-fi thank-you WIP excerpt behind the cut, as promised, friends; 7k of kidnapping your soulmate for fun and profit. (and non-chrono link for anyone on the app.)

Tana Moon follows Leech over to the group, looking a little wary herself. Tim sizes her up in his peripheral vision, pretending not to notice her approach. He’s “just” found out who his soulmate is, so he can sell the illusion of only paying attention to Superboy right now. It’s not an unusual reaction. 

It’s a pretty typical one, actually. The fact that Superboy decided to immediately show him off to everyone he knows is actually the less usual option, in fact. Not unheard of either, of course, but still. A lot of newly-discovered soulmates tend to just forget about the outside world for a few hours. Or days, even. A few missing person cases that Tim’s been involved in solving turned out to be cases of “I met my soulmate and we just eloped/ran away/went on a road trip/holed up in a hotel room without telling anyone”. 

Tim had thought it was ridiculous at the time, if obviously preferable to ending up with either a dead body or a traumatized victim, but Tim is currently in the process of planning an ethically-necessary kidnapping less than twenty-four hours after first cracking into Superboy’s file, so he supposes soulmates just bring out most people’s less pragmatic sides. 

Though he personally thinks carefully-planned ethical kidnappings are an improvement on spontaneous weekends in Vegas, pragmatically-speaking. But whatever. 

“He showed you?” Tana Moon says, glancing Tim over suspiciously. Superboy’s face reddens this time and he tugs at the slash in his own suit. 

“He, uh, saw mine first,” he says. “Kinda got into it with a dude downtown and Tim here was in the area, and like, he recognized it, obviously.”

“It’s fairly noticeable as a mark,” Tim supplies helpfully, figuring he should be being supportive of his soulmate here, and also be shutting Rex Leech up as efficiently as possible. “And Superboy came over to check on me after the fight, so it was hard to miss.” 

“Sure it was,” Leech says, his face souring. “So then you won’t mind showin’ yours to–” 

“Shut up, Dad!” Roxy hisses, kicking him viciously hard in the ankle. Leech yelps in pain. Roxy is immediately his favorite, Tim decides. By far Roxy is his favorite. The dog’s kind of cute and Dubbilex seems decent, but definitely Roxy is his favorite. 

Her dad definitely fucking sucks, though. 

And as for Tana Moon . . . 

“You’re a tourist?” Tana says, just barely frowning down at Tim. She’s taller than him. She’s also taller than Superboy, because she’s a grown-ass woman and why, exactly, is a reporter even here right now? How is that necessary or reasonable? 

. . . admittedly she’s also taller than Leech and he’s a middle-aged man, but that’s not the point here. If Tim has to “no comment” this situation and figure out how to get either his parents or Bruce to kill a story, he absolutely will. He isn’t even slightly gonna hesitate there. He is gonna the opposite of hesitate, in fact. 

“Yes,” he lies, which might not endear him to Moon, given she’s a native, but is better than confessing to having premeditated designs on kidnapping a teen idol superhero. Especially to a reporter. 

Even if it is legally salvage. 

“I’m just in town for the day,” he continues. “I needed to get away for a little while, you know how it is.” 

“Sure,” Moon says, narrowing her eyes at him. “Who doesn’t.” 

“He’s from Gotham. And he helped the civilians get out of the area while I was fighting that guy downtown!” Superboy says eagerly, which is . . . odd, actually, and throws Tim off a bit. That seems like a weird thing for Superboy to be eager about, considering. Like . . . just very weird. 

“Well, that’s a Gotham thing, probably,” Tim says, putting on a sheepish Civilian Smile (#7). “We’re used to rogue attacks with area of effect concerns involved, so we get pretty good at clearing a street.” 

“You did awesome,” Superboy says, grinning excitedly at him. That is . . . still weird, yeah. Tim really doesn’t get it. 

Well, maybe Superboy’s just relieved to have a soulmate who knows how to stay out of the line of fire and what to do in a crisis, given how often crisises probably come up in his life. That would make sense, considering. 

“It was nothing, just a little light crowd control,” Tim tries, assuming that’s what a normal civilian would say. Probably, right? Almost definitely. “Nobody even needed any urgent medical attention. And you used your TTK really strategically and contained the guy too, that was much more impressive to pull off in a mess like that.” 

Yeah, that was normal civilian talk, he thinks, pleased with himself for managing it. 

Superboy turns pink, then grins again. Dubbilex . . . tilts his head. 

Normal. Normal. Normal civilian. That’s what Tim is. A civilian! Who’s normal! Very, very normal! 

Normal. 

He smiles Normal Civilian Smile #4 and pats Krypto’s head again. Krypto makes an enthusiastic attempt at licking his fingers off. 

Ew. 

“‘Light crowd control’,” Moon echoes. That’s what Tim said, yeah, so he’s not sure why she’s repeating it. Well–reporter, again, so It’s probably a trap. 

It’s almost definitely a trap, actually. 

Really definitely it’s a trap. 

“Sorry to just show up like this, hope I’m not interrupting anything,” he says to Roxy and Dubbilex with a smile, politely pretending not to be ignoring Moon. He is definitely ignoring Moon, though. Again: reporter. She may not be a Lois Lane or even a Vicki Vale, but he’s still not giving her any information he can avoid giving her. And he’ll just ignore Leech while he’s at it, too. 

“I invited you, man!” Superboy says with a laugh, shaking his head. “We’re gonna hit the beach for a while, go hang out. Just swung by to grab Tim a swimsuit I can lend him.” 

“You came to Hawaii to ‘get away’ and didn’t pack a swimsuit?” Moon says skeptically. 

“Yup,” Tim replies with the most placidly innocent expression he’s ever worn in his life. Nothing. He is giving her nothing. Let all her reporter instincts strike against mirrored glass and high-security privacy windows and come to naught. 

Moon stares at him in silence, clearly waiting for him to fill it. Tim doesn’t fall for the incredibly obvious bait and just keeps the placidly innocent expression on. 

She frowns. 

“C’mon, man,” Superboy says cheerfully, apparently–and fortunately–oblivious to their stand-off. He grabs Tim’s arm and drags him towards the front porch. Tim seriously doubts its structural stability, from the look of it, but tactile telekinesis is hard to argue with. 

The steps manage not to collapse–possibly also because of tactile telekinesis, Tim can’t help suspecting–and Superboy pulls him straight into the house, which is . . . not particularly well taken care of, no surprise. The furniture looks like it all came from a thrift store, and not a nice thrift store. 

Admittedly Tim’s upbringing might be showing here, but also the corners need swept and there’s random boxes of assorted Superboy merch everywhere, most of which looks like cheap junk, and a huge stack of mail and four empty pizza boxes on the coffee table and overflowing trash cans with random junk scattered around, and it’s just . . . it doesn’t look taken care of, no. Which is something Tim would expect from a teenager or two, and maybe Dubbilex doesn’t know how chore wheels work or whatever, but fucking Rex Leech should at least be capable of getting out the broom once a week. 

Assuming there is one, anyway. Tim isn’t particularly optimistic on that one, honestly. 

Superboy’s room is even messier than the living room, covered in dirty clothes and abandoned comics and crumpled-up papers, but Tim’s bedroom looks like a bomb went off in it so he’s not gonna judge. Anyway, that’s Superboy’s personal space, not a common area. He can keep it however he likes, Tim figures. 

Somebody should really sweep that living room, though. And throw out those old pizza boxes, too. 

Tim isn’t judging, just–well, no, he is very much judging, actually. Specifically what he’s judging is Rex Leech, noted asshole sleazeball manager with predatory business tactics. 

Fuck that guy, seriously. 

“You want trunks or a speedo?” Superboy asks as he lets go of his arm to fly over to the cluttered dresser. Tim turns seventeen different shades of red and nearly disassociates. 

“Trunks,” he says quickly. “Please.” 

“Gotcha, man,” Superboy says easily, and then all the dresser drawers yank out at once and dump out crumpled piles of . . . mostly swimsuits and super-suits, it looks like, yeah. Like, basically nothing else but swimsuits and super-suits and a couple of cheesy-looking Hawaiian shirts. 

Well, that might be one lonely, lonely pair of cutoffs sticking out from underneath the swimsuits. But otherwise, that’s pretty much it, yeah. 

Fuck, that’s depressing, Tim thinks. 

Superboy comes back over with an armful of swimsuits, just about all of which have the S-shield either printed or stitched on them. Tim wonders why the guy even has this many swimsuits, especially considering he barely has any other clothes at all. At least not as far as he can see, anyway. 

He also wonders if he’s gonna die if he wears Superboy’s clothes. Is that a thing that might happen? Because it really might happen, yeah. 

Also wearing something with an S-shield on it feels like just a little too much to handle right now, so Tim’s hoping for a basic black option to be buried somewhere in that pile. Given Superboy’s apparent fashion sense, it seems unlikely, but hope springs eternal. 

“Take a look, see what’s good,” Superboy says, dumping the entire armful of swimsuits on Tim. Tim’s just grateful he remembered to stick to just the trunks, at this point. 

“So you spend a lot of time on the beach, huh?” he says wryly. 

“C’mon, man, it’s Hawaii,” Superboy says with a sheepish grin. “And I mean, I look good in anything but wet leather is just not a comfortable fit, you know?” 

“I guess it wouldn’t be, no,” Tim says, giving him Civilian Smile #4 again. Superboy’s ears redden a little again, and then he leans back and zips back across the room to shove all his drawers back shut. Tim lays out the pile of swimsuits on the bed, since it’s right there anyway, and then immediately feels embarrassed to be this close to Superboy’s bed. Which is stupid, even if they aren’t platonics. They’ve just met; it’s not like anything’s gonna happen. 

. . . even if Superboy is a notorious flirt and totally shameless and–

Tim is just not gonna pursue that line of thought right now, he decides. Just for his own sanity and all. 

He accidentally knocks some paper off the bed as he’s laying out the suits to get a look at them, and reflexively leans down to pick it up. The room’s a mess, yeah, but it’s Superboy’s mess. It’s still rude to just drop shit wherever. 

The paper isn’t as crumpled as some of the others, and Tim sees a glimpse of color as he picks it up. His inner detective reflexively wonders what it is, and . . .

Tim uncrumples the paper a little, and blinks down at it in surprise. It’s a little kid’s drawing, it looks like. A sunny beach rendered in bright colored pencil and simple, awkward shapes all painstakingly but clumsily colored in and–

Superboy’s suddenly right back next to him snatching the paper from him and immediately hiding it behind his back, looking absolutely mortified. Tim’s confused, for a moment. What’s he embarrassed about? It’s obviously not anything he’d have drawn himself. It’s probably just something a fan or a neighbor’s kid gave him, or . . . 

Tim pauses. Then he recontextualizes just how much of the crumpled-up paper is lying around Superboy’s room and wonders, very briefly, if a bunch of STEM majors with delusions of grandeur would’ve bothered programming their custom-designed “Superman” with anything resembling art skills. 

So . . . maybe that is something Superboy drew himself. If Cadmus didn’t program him with the muscle memory or knowledge of how to draw . . . well, then he probably would draw like a little kid, wouldn’t he.

And given Superboy’s cocky, braggart personality and defensive ego and how all that paper is all crumpled up as if in frustration . . .

“Gift from a fan?” Tim “assumes” with Smiling Civilian Face #4, pretending to be oblivious. 

“Uh–yeah!” Superboy blurts quickly as he jumps on the provided excuse, though he keeps the paper behind his back. “Yeah, just–you know, just some kid gave it to me at a signing, whatever. Uh, bathroom’s through there, if you wanna get changed. Or like, whatever.” 

“Thanks,” Tim says, and resists the itching urge to peek at a few more of those crumpled-up papers. It’s just a lot of paper, especially if Superboy’s upset with the results.

He wonders why the guy draws so much, if he’s that frustrated and embarrassed by it. Maybe it’s a rebellion thing, since it’s something Cadmus didn’t want him to know how to do. Tim would definitely understand that logic, if he were in Superboy’s situation. Or maybe he’s just bothered not to know how and trying to teach himself to make up for the perceived failing. 

Or maybe he just likes it, Tim supposes. That’s an option too. 

Probably a less likely one, though, given that it’s Superboy. Not to be an asshole or anything, just it’s a lot easier picturing the guy assuming he should be able to do something and getting fixated on trying to pull it off than just, like . . . liking to draw. Also, judging by all that balled-up paper, it doesn’t seem like there’s much there for him to “like”, either.

Tim takes the plainest set of trunks with a drawstring waist, which are black and dark blue but still have an S-shield iron-on patch sewn onto their waistband, for whatever reason, and ducks into the bathroom with them. He realizes belatedly that said S-shield is probably going to rest right up against his soulmark, then feels like an idiot for feeling flustered by that idea and just sets his bag against the wall and starts getting undressed. 

He’s definitely wearing one of the spare shirts in his go-bag for this, he decides as he stuffs his clothes into his bag. Just–definitely, yeah. 

The trunks fit once he cinches the drawstring enough, but the S-shield definitely does rest right against his soulmark. Tim has never actually considered the sight of the S-shield to be, like . . . relevant or interesting outside of work, but he’s realizing that he sure does feel differently about it now that he knows his soulmate’s one of the people wearing it. 

Which is a little ironic, really, considering Superboy wears the S-shield as a branding thing or whatever and lets Leech slap it on whatever cheap shitty merch he can think of. Like, he’s probably the least respectful S-wearer there is. 

Tim pulls on a plain clean T-shirt and a short-sleeve button-down to go over it, figuring that’s beach-friendly enough. He should’ve packed sunglasses, probably, but he was a little distracted by his kidnapping plans and didn’t think to. 

Seriously. He didn’t think to bring sunglasses to Hawaii. 

This whole situation definitely has him off his game, yeah. 

Soulmate thing, he guesses.

Tim eyes himself in the bathroom mirror, mentally decides he’s being an idiot to worry about how he looks right now, and then grabs his bag and heads back out into the bedroom. Superboy’s changed into low-waisted S-shield-themed trunks of his own and flip-flops and nothing else, which does in fact give Tim an embarrassingly good and embarrassingly distracting view of their soulmark. It’s not quite distracting enough for him to miss the fact that the amount of crumpled papers strewn around the room has noticeably decreased, though. And there’s definitely more of them sticking out from under the bed and dresser and in the back of the closet than there previously were. 

Which is kinda cute, honestly, but Tim should probably not say that. Like, ever. 

“Thanks for waiting,” he says, smiling Normal Civilian Smile #4 at Superboy as he hitches his bag up a little higher on his shoulder. “And for the loan.” 

Superboy stares blankly at him for half a second, then seems to startle a little and puffs himself up. 

“Uh–sure, yeah!” he says quickly. “No problem, man. Anytime.” 

“‘Anytime’ seems pretty open, as an offer,” Tim jokes, because normal civilians make that kind of joke, and Superboy turns red. 

“Oh, uh–you know what I mean!” he sputters awkwardly, holding his hands up, which seems kind of a lot as a reaction, and then somehow manages to nearly knock over his dresser without even touching it. Well–that'd be the TTK, Tim guesses. 

It wasn't even that much of a joke. Like, lame suburban dad joke territory, that's all. 

“I do, yeah,” he says with a wry smile. Superboy finds a way to turn even redder and shoves his dresser back into a corner. That also seems like kind of a lot as a reaction, but Tim doesn't comment. Just seems, well . . . awkward? Unnecessary? “Are we good to go, then?” 

“Um, yeah, yeah,” Superboy says, clearing his throat and then zipping out into the hall. Tim wonders if he always flies indoors this much. “All good, dude! Let's head out.” 

“Sure,” Tim says, keeping the smile on. Superboy is still red, but floats along down the hall. Tim follows. Okay. They’re almost definitely not platonic, but Superboy clearly isn’t any more sure what to do with that than Tim is, so . . . small favors, he guesses. Like–that they’re at least roughly on the same page there, he means. 

Unless he’s just reading into things because of weird personal biases he didn’t even know he had, and Superboy is completely straight and just kind of socially awkward around civilians, and Tim’s just being socially pressured by the background radiation of living in a society that over-values romantic soulmates in comparison to platonic ones and sometimes disavows platonic soulmates altogether. 

He supposes technically they could be familial, rare as that is. It’s not like he really knows how he’d feel about having a brother. Dick’s the closest thing to one he’s ever had, and that’s just . . . not actually the same thing, obviously, even if sometimes he wishes . . . 

Anyway. It doesn’t matter. He’s pretty sure having a brother wouldn’t in any way involve this level of embarrassment and unexpected hormones and just general sexuality-questioning over every little thing. Like, that seems very much not like what having a brother would be like. 

So–maybe he isn’t straight, or maybe Superboy’s not actually a boy, or maybe both of those things are true, or maybe he’s just really, really bad at having a soulmate.

Entirely possible, under the circumstances. Tim’s not really all that good at getting close to people. If he got a little confused about how to handle having a soulmate, well . . . that wouldn’t really be a surprise, would it. 

Or maybe he just doesn’t want to have to figure out how to come out to his dad or Dana or the goddamn Batman. 

One or the other, probably.

. . . statistically speaking, the likelier explanation probably is not wanting to come out to the goddamn Batman. 

“Wanna fly someplace or just chill on the beach out front?” Superboy asks as he floats backwards into the living room. Krypto runs up and jumps on Tim excitedly, his tail wagging so hard his whole little body’s wagging with it. He’s a weird-looking little mutt, but he’s really friendly, apparently. “Krypto, oh my god, get off him.” 

“I don't mind,” Tim says, leaning down to give Krypto a polite little pat on the head. Krypto barks happily and wags his tail so hard he knocks himself over. 

Yeah, weird dog in general, Tim thinks. But again, really friendly. 

“We can go wherever,” he says. “You're the local, you know the best places to get a little time alone to hang out, right?” 

“‘Alone’?” Superboy repeats, his ears reddening again as he somehow manages to trip in mid-air and hits his head on the doorframe. Tim can probably safely write off the idea of “platonic” at this point, but is still a little bit wary of his personal bias interfering. Though . . . “Uh–yeah! Totally! Yeah! We can do that!” 

Yeah, Superboy really isn’t selling the “platonic” idea here either. 

Does Tim have a boyfriend now? Is this how boyfriends happen? 

. . . well, or a girlfriend, maybe. He still hasn’t ruled out the “maybe Superboy’s just trans” option. That seems like a thing that might confuse his sexuality a little, if nothing else. 

This is definitely not anything like any previous girlfriend-getting he’s experienced, though. Like, not even a little bit. He’s not complaining, exactly, because admittedly it’s actually a little bit easier going into a new relationship with a plan and a cover established, even if the plan is admittedly still in flux and the relationship’s “romantic" vs "platonic” status is still unclear. It’s still something he can approach like a case, which is much more straightforward than just floundering around trying to figure out how normal people work. 

And Superboy’s about as far from a “normal person” as it gets, so really, this is a pretty ideal set-up on Tim’s end. 

Hopefully Superboy feels similarly, though he also, like . . . is lacking some pretty important information there, so . . . yeah, that might be an issue. Bruce would definitely not have appreciated Robin telling Superboy he was his soulmate, though, and who knows how Superboy would’ve even taken that. Going in as a civilian is going pretty smoothly, though, so Tim’s pretty sure it was the right choice. 

Hopefully it was, anyway. 

“Cool,” Tim says, keeping up the placid harmless civilian face and thoughts and Totally-Not-A-Vigilante vibes. Superboy does a very bad job of pretending he didn’t just bump into the doorframe and ducks back outside, putting on a cocky grin of his own as he does. It occurs to Tim, briefly, that maybe Superboy has his own catalog of performative expressions. None of his friends really seem to, but Superboy is in the community too, so . . . well, it’d make sense, right? 

Also he does sell his likeness via a sleazy manager’s sleazy business deals, so yeah. It does kind of make sense. 

Huh. That’s . . . a thought, he guesses. 

Not a thought he’d really had yet. 

Just . . . something they might have in common, Tim guesses. 

Though so is being in the community to begin with, obviously. And they're physiologically about the same age and have similar coloring, though Superboy is–well, not actually mixed with East Asian, because Krypton did not have an actual place called “Asia”, but he does have subtle hints of that look, same as Superman. Easy to mistake for just being white, but recognizable if you know what you're looking for. Superboy would be at least half-white given Westfield's DNA, Tim guesses, but . . . 

Yeah, no, he doesn't even know how to begin to figure out the nuances of racial identity on a dead planet he knows next to nothing about, much less any potential experience parallels there might be for a second-generation half-alien immigrant with effectively zero access to their own culture, but maybe he could–

Right, okay, he needs to focus here. There's some fascinating stuff there that he can theorize about and investigate later, once he's kidnapped Superboy properly. The kidnapping is the current priority, though. Like, it is very much the current priority. 

Tim follows Superboy back out onto the porch. Everyone else is still out there, which is fine in regards to Roxy and Dubbilex and not fine in regards to Leech and . . . well, jury's out on Moon, maybe. 

Also the dog. He doesn't really know about the dog. Though said dog does run after him and jump up for attention wagging his scruffy little tail hard enough to wag his whole little body, which is sort of cute. 

Or as cute as a wet dishrag can get, anyway. 

Tim’s trying not to judge Krypto for that, since obviously he didn't ask to be born as the living embodiment of a wet dishrag, and anyway he's a really friendly dog, so judging by appearances seems like a dick move. Even if Tim kind of wants to iron him, to be honest. Steam-clean, maybe. 

At least take him to a decent groomer, if nothing else. 

“Down, you little shit, Jesus!” Kon says, scowling down at Krypto and trying to shoo him away. Krypto growls at him, which seems weird, then goes back to fawning all over Tim. Tim leans down and pats his head, figuring it might calm him down. 

“It’s okay,” he says. “He is cute.” 

“Whatever,” Superboy grumbles, folding his arms and inexplicably glowering at his dog. 

“You gonna go swim, or just hang out?” Roxy asks curiously as she comes over to them again. 

“Oh, we’re–” Superboy starts, but Moon cuts him off. 

“Want some company?” Moon inquires, pleasant and suspicious all at once. Superboy looks–conflicted, momentarily, and then awkward. 

“Um, well–Tim’s only in town for today, so . . . next time?” he hedges. Tim resists the urge to eye Moon. Can I just spontaneously insert myself in your first day with your brand-new soulmate? is incredibly rude, as a suggestion. And incredibly fucking disrespectful to boot. Like, what entitled-ass kind of thing is that to ask, exactly? 

How old is she again? Twenty? Twenty-one? He should look that up later. Well–no, she’d graduated college and started her career by the time Superman had died, which was a good eight or nine months ago now, so unless she skipped a grade or two in there, she’s gotta be closer to twenty-four, if not twenty-five or twenty-six. 

That’s . . . a thought, considering there is definitely news footage of Superboy kissing her in Metropolis. Like, Tim very definitely saw news footage of Superboy kissing her in Metropolis. And she was very definitely kissing him too.

In retrospect, that seems like something someone should’ve, like . . . done something about? Or at least addressed? And is definitely further proof of how fucking useless and slimy Rex Leech is. Sure, let the five-minute-old clone make out with a twentysomething reporter and hang out with her at home; all publicity is good publicity, so it’s fine, right? Sure. Why wouldn’t it be? 

Tim is going to absolutely decimate that bastard’s credit the first chance he gets. Leech probably already has terrible credit, mind, but he’ll make it worse. He’ll find a way. 

. . . though he’ll wait until he’s sure Roxy is eighteen and financially independent, he doesn’t actually know if she is or not. Roxy seems nice, she doesn’t deserve that particular fallout. 

“It’d be nice to get to know each other later, I’m sure,” Tim says before Moon can say anything, smiling Gala Smile #1 at her, which is a targeted psychological attack and not actually very moral to be trotting out this quick, probably. 

He has no regrets, for the record. Absolutely none. 

Moon narrows her eyes suspiciously. Tim blithely strokes Krypto’s ears, Gala Smile #1 flawless and unphased. 

“I’m sure,” she “agrees” frostily. Superboy remains apparently oblivious to the tension and grins brightly at both of them. 

“Cool!” he says. Oh, sweet summer child who has clearly never socialized with sharks, Tim thinks resignedly, petting Krypto again. Has Leech taught him literally nothing about conversational warfare, for fuck’s sake? At least living with your sleaze of a manager should be good for that, dammit! 

Then again, Leech is probably not actually competent enough to teach Superboy anything actually useful, so maybe that’s for the best. 

If nothing else, Superman could’ve taught him a bit of “bless your heart”, but apparently that’s not a thing either. 

Tim has a brief moment of dread that maybe underneath his personal list of performative expressions, Superboy might just be a straightforward and honest person, which is a concerning thought. He doesn’t even know how to talk to a straightforward and honest person at this point, after this long as Batman’s emotional support sidekick. How do you form a lasting relationship with someone who isn’t habitually using at least three layers of double-talk and constantly locked in on all your microexpressions, anyway? 

That’s going to be a weird experience, yeah. 

“Ready to go?” Superboy asks Tim, grinning brighter at him. Tim feels momentarily overwhelmed and just sort of . . . has to collect himself about that, a little. 

Or a lot.

“Lead the way,” he says, smiling at him. He’s flustered enough to forget to use an appropriately-planned smile, which is embarrassing, but Superboy just grins even brighter–which should not be physically possible, but apparently is–and reaches out to scoop him up into his arms and into the air again as Krypto lets out an offended bark. It’s totally overkill and not even slightly necessary. 

Tim isn’t complaining, just–well–

It’s really flustering. 

“Air Superboy up, up, and away!” Superboy says cheerfully as they float up over the others’ heads. His face is way too close to Tim’s face. 

Tim is gonna need a bit longer to collect himself this time, he’s pretty sure. 

“Do I get an in-flight meal?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. Superboy laughs, which is even worse than his grin, and then takes off across the beachfront with him. It’s another bridal carry, which is quietly mortifying but could be worse, probably. Maybe. 

Somehow. 

Superboy flies them straight across the beach and then straight out over the water, skimming them along just above the waves. Tim makes a briefly startled noise, reflexively tightening his grip on the strap of his bag. 

“This isn’t waterproof,” he says just as reflexively, and Superboy laughs again. 

“I’m not gonna drop you, dude,” he says. Tim actually more assumed Superboy was intending to either dive-bomb them both into the water or just dump him in on purpose, because that seems like Superboy’s sense of humor, but maybe that was an unfair assumption. 

He really is not prepared for how it feels to be held in close against Superboy’s bare chest and arms like this, even if he’s still wearing a shirt himself. The idea of possibly doing that while they’re both wet seems a lot worse. 

Yeah. Definitely worse. 

Tim should’ve worn long sleeves. And maybe a wetsuit. And maybe a few layers on top of that. 

Jesus. 

“I’m gonna hold you to that,” he says, barely resisting the urge to loop his arms around Superboy’s neck as the other hangs a right and swoops them back around towards shore. Flying over the water like this is a pretty cool experience, admittedly, now that he’s not worried about Superboy dumping him in the water. 

Well. Less worried, anyway. 

Camera next time, Tim promises himself, glancing back over Superboy’s shoulder towards the shining horizon. The sun reflects off the waves bright and beautiful, and the sky is a smooth and perfect blue dotted with sparse but billowing clouds, and everything smells like salt and sea and leather, which is probably Superboy, even without the jacket on anymore. 

Definitely camera next time.

“Definitely holding you to that, actually,” he says, and Superboy laughs again and brings them down in the surf just past the tideline with a splash. Neither the splash or the water goes high enough to soak Tim's bag, so he figures it could've been worse. 

Assuming Superboy isn't planning to toss him or anything before he can put his bag down somewhere safe, anyway. 

They both settle down into the surf and onto their feet, and Tim becomes very aware of how close together they’re standing and also how very, very shirtless Superboy is, and in fact the only thing between their soulmarks is the very thin layer of cotton of Tim’s own shirt, and if he leaned in just a little bit . . . 

Jesus, Tim thinks faintly, and forces himself to take a step back before he can make it weird. 

He smiles Generically Pleasant Civilian Smile #2 just to make sure he doesn’t look like a creep or anything, and Superboy grins excitedly at him. Tim allows himself all of two seconds to be overwhelmed by that gorgeous expression and their physical closeness and the reflection of the light in Superboy’s eyes, as bright and perfectly blue as both the sky and water, and then reasserts standard operating procedures and keeps Generically Pleasant Civilian Smile #2 locked in place on his face. 

“The water���s really warm,” he observes, glancing down at it. “Is that normal?” 

It’s probably not an impending supervillain thing, he tells himself. 

Maybe global warming or something, though.

“I mean, feels normal to me?” Superboy says with a shrug. Tim considers mentioning the average ocean temperature, comparatively speaking, or at least the average temperature of the water off the docks in Gotham. Admittedly, Gotham waters barely count as “water”, legally speaking, but that’s not the point. 

“It’s pretty out here,” he says instead, and Superboy grins at him and leans in. He’s pretty sure it’s more an instinctive thing than a deliberate one, just from the way Superboy does it, but that doesn’t exactly make it less flattering. 

Or flustering. 

“I mean, it’s Hawaii, man!” Superboy says, grinning wider before kicking at the surf. “‘Course it’s gonna be pretty!” 

Actually you specifically are possibly the prettiest damn thing that I have ever seen, Tim thinks, but isn’t stupid enough to actually let out of his mouth. Superboy, unfortunately, continues to be all warm and grinning and lit up by the island sun. Tim did not come prepared enough for this. 

“I don’t know, I’m pretty sure I’d be the guy who came to Hawaii and got a monsoon,” Tim says wryly, and Superboy laughs brightly. 

Tim really did not come prepared enough for this. Like, not at all. Not even slightly. 

“Guess you’d just have to come back, then,” Superboy says, grinning wider again and kicking at the surf again as he floats back up out of it. It’s–weird, a little, looking up at him like this. 

Well, not weird, just . . . yeah. 

Something like that. 

“Guess so,” Tim agrees, feeling embarrassingly flustered. Superboy’s friends can probably still see them from the porch, distant though it is, but part of him is still just considering very weird and dumb ideas like maybe tugging Superboy back down to earth and into the surf and just . . . confirming the little sexuality crisis he’s been having since breaking into the other’s file and seeing their soulmark in it, maybe. 

Just, you know, ruling things out. Making deductions. Going through the process of elimination. 

Kissing him, maybe. 

He could very, very much kiss Superboy right now. They’re on a gorgeous beach in the surf and under the sun and Superboy is floating in front of him and grinning as happy and excited as could be and Tim’s stomach is fluttering in a stupid and also-embarrassing way, and . . . 

He could kiss him. That’s all. 

“I mean, it’s a nice place to visit, right?” Superboy says casually, linking his hands together behind his back. 

“The tourism industry seems to think so,” Tim says wryly, and wonders what the “normal civilian who didn’t come here specifically looking for his soulmate to kidnap/salvage him to begin with” thing to say is here. He has absolutely no idea, because he actually has absolutely no idea how normal civilians react to superheroes. Robin is . . . not exactly an urban myth, necessarily, but definitely not a publicly-recognized superhero. He’s a vigilante that’s just barely allowed to operate outside the law, and not one with any kind of publicity or celebrity involved. 

eSuperboy, on the other hand, is not only a superhero, but a professional superhero. He’s selling his likeness and doing events and has signed a stupid predatory contract with a sleaze of a manager that technically shouldn’t even be legal, given Superboy isn’t even considered a legal person by the government. Apparently no one has ever realized that, though, or at least no one’s ever let Superboy realize that. 

Tim really doesn’t love that that’s a thing, to put it mildly. 

Actually, he just fucking hates it. 

Superboy laughs, and looks very, very pretty doing it. Tim continues to wonder what a normal civilian would do here, and for lack of a better idea falls back on small talk. 

God, his best plan right now is small talk. What is his life, even? 

No wonder he’s gonna have to take six months to kidnap Superboy, ugh.

“So, uh–this seems like a weird question to be bringing up this late in the conversation, but what’s your name?” he asks, because it’s occurred to him that he actually has no idea what Superboy goes by when he’s off-duty. He knows he doesn’t have a secret identity, of course, but there’s no way his friends just call him “Superboy”. Well–maybe his slimy asshole manager does, but otherwise. “I mean, if that’s okay to ask. Marks or not, I understand if you don’t feel like we’re there yet, given the whole superhero thing and all.” 

Robin knows Superboy doesn’t have a secret identity, after all, but Tim Drake is a normal civilian and shouldn’t act like he knows too much about any superhero in general, so–

“Naw, it’s fine, I don’t even have one,” Superboy says, for some reason just beaming at him, which is . . . weird, Tim thinks, but nowhere near as weird as that answer is. 

“You don’t . . . have one?” he repeats slowly, and Superboy shrugs easily. “Like–not at all?” 

“Yeah, everybody pretty much just calls me 'Kid' or 'SB', when it's not Superboy,” Superboy says. “Oh, and Knockout calls me 'Pup' when she's around but like, that's really just a 'her' thing. So, you know, you can call me whatever.” 

Tim stares blankly at him for a long, long moment, speed-runs all five stages of grief, and also discovers a couple of new and unexpected ones. 

Alright. Well, he officially regrets literally nothing about this impending kidnapping. 

“Oh, okay,” he says. “Um–sorry, I guess I just assumed you’d have a more . . . civilian-ish name too, I guess?” 

“I’m a clone, man,” Superboy says, looking amused. “The only other name I’ve got is ‘Experiment Thirteen’, which is definitely not something I answer to."

Tim discovers a few more stages of grief that hit with all the subtlety of a spiked baseball bat and makes himself nod as much like a normal person as he can. 

“Yeah, I don’t think I’d go for that one if I were you either,” he says. “Kind of a mouthful, if nothing else.” 

Superboy laughs, then grins at him again. He is actually doing so, so much of that, Tim’s realizing. Tim was really not prepared for how much of that he’s been doing, in fact. He just did not come prepared for any of that at all. He’s got some nebulous kidnapping plans, but everything else here–from the supervillain attack to Superboy’s ripped suit and exposed soulmark–has been a crime of opportunity. 

He probably should’ve done more research. Actually, he definitely should’ve done more research. He kind of just panicked and bought a ticket and flew right over, and just because Dick didn’t stop him doesn’t mean it was a good idea. He just–he should’ve done more research. Planned more. Not shown up without something concrete. 

Admittedly Superboy doesn’t hate him yet or anything, but this was just . . . yeah, this was not his brightest idea at all. Not even slightly. 

Why didn’t he do more research? 

“You really can just call me whatever you wanna, don’t worry about it,” Superboy says with an easy shrug as he settles back down into the surf, which, unfortunately, puts him back into kissing range and is therefore incredibly distracting. 

Dammit, Tim thinks, trying to beat his stupid teenage hormones into order. 

“Whatever I wanna?” he repeats. 

“Except for Experiment Thirteen,” Superboy says with another grin. Tim politely pretends not to notice the slight tightening of the corners of his mouth as he says the word “experiment”. 

“Uh, okay,” he says, clearing his throat. He guesses Superboy doesn’t really care what his name is, then, but being told to just call him whatever he wants to is . . . well, a weird feeling, maybe. “What do you do when you just want to be a civilian for a while, though?” 

“I don’t,” Superboy says. 

“. . . don’t . . . what?” Tim asks slowly, not sure if he should be dreading the answer or not, but–

“Be a civilian,” Superboy says. 

Tim’s running out of new stages of grief, he’s pretty sure. 

“Ah,” he says. 

Superboy–for a second, Tim thinks he looks self-conscious, but then he’s grinning again before he can be sure, and . . . 

“Why would I?” Superboy says, puffing up proudly. “I’m Superboy, man! Nothing else I’d rather be.” 

Given how limited Superboy’s options for anything “else” he could be probably are . . . well, Tim’s not sure what to think of that statement. 

He doesn’t think it’s anything good, though. 

Yeah, no, he thinks as he looks at Superboy’s too-bright grin and thinks about how he just said "nothing" and not "no one". Definitely not anything good. 

Who wouldn’t pick being “Superboy” over being “Experiment Thirteen”, after all? 

And what else would Superboy even know how to pick, if he thought those were his only options?

#timkon #tim drake #kon el #conner kent #dc robin #superboy #wip: kidnapping your soulmate for fun and profit

[chaosmarshmallow]

Kiss me you animal

Tw: smut, underage sex, breeding kink, possessiveness

AN: Ello, this is my very first smut work (also posted on ao3 btw) so ehh enjoy ig lmao, let me know what you think and how I can better my smut writing in the comments

Toedles <3

Summary:

Count Manabu's party was probably the most boring thing ever for you... But there was at least one good thing that came from it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Count Manabu's ball/party/whatever it was, was, lightly put, absolutely boring.

You knew that Yuuichi wanted to establish as many new relationships as possible, but you'd rather be doing anything other than this.

Just like he was doing all night, Yuuichi was talking to some fat, rich guys who thought they were really funny with their misogynistic jokes. You, ofcourse, didn't say anything, you just stood there by Yuuichi's side looking pretty with a forced smile on your face.

"Hah!" One of the men declared, a smug grin on his face as he combed with his thick fingers through his greasy blond/grey hair, "Yes, women are only good for … thing: cooking, cleaning and…" he stopped, probably to make his pathetic speech a bit more dramatic, "sex!"

The others roared with laughter, grabbing their bulging stomach as they shook.

Disgusting

"Isn't that right sweetheart!" The man left from you exclaimed, as he smacked you hard on your ass, making you yelp in surprise.

Apparently, the others thought that this was really funny too and started laughing loudly again. The man who smacked you, a middle-aged white man with brown slick backed hair, upturned light brown eyes and a nose the size of your hand, snickered and looked you up and down. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pressed his face way too close to yours for your liking, basically hanging over you.

"Say, beautiful," He purred, caressing your cheek with his other hand, "why don't we go to my room and have some fun?"

Your face scrunched up in disgust.

"No thank you, sir." You answered, trying your best to still be polite.

He grinned and licked his lips. "Come on baby, I know you want to." His filthy breath hit your nose as he got even closer, making you want to puke, "Stop trying to play hard to get and just come with me."

You tried to push him away, resulting in him only pressing himself firmer against you, when suddenly you felt a second arm grabbing you by the waist and yanking you away from him.

Startled you almost fell, but just in time you were caught by whoever pulled you away.

Dazed, you looked up at your 'savior' and saw a furious looking Yuuichi. Of Course the other men didn't see it, his face was just as perfectly masked with a polite smile as before, but you saw his eyes darkened with rage and his lips barely noticeable tightened. You knew him well and you knew very well when he was angry…

"I'm afraid I'll have to step in and stop you from doing so, kind sir!" He said, squeezing you tighter against him.

The man, a full grown man, pouted. "Ow come on…" He nagged.

"Sorry, but this lady is already someone else's." He insisted.

The brown haired man rolled his eyes, got too close again and quickly, out of nowhere, grabbed one of your tits, making you yell in protest.

"Come on man, we can share right?" He drawled, "if you want I'll even let you watch if you want!"

Welp, he was dead.

Swiftly, Yuuichi seized hold of the wrist.

The big shot, obviously not expecting that, looked up, bewildered, from my face, only the wince back in shock as he saw the dark and smileless face of the black haired boy.

"I'm afraid you didn't understand, sir…" he said slowly, squeezing his wrist, making him wince in discomfort as he let go of my boob.

"She's MINE." He growled and with a loud snap you heard the bone break. The guy cried out in pain and fell to his knees, his wrist still held by the furious Yuuichi, who was now chuckling.

A massive grin, almost inhuman, appeared on his face as he crouched to his level. Staring intensely in his eyes and pressing his face very close to the rich man's, he threatened: "If you touch her one more time…" He tightened his grip on the wrist again, "I will kill you."

After those words he let go, making the man fully fall to the ground as he cradled his broken wrist. He took your hand and tugged you with him as he stormed away, probably to your room.

You barely had any time to think, when you were pushed against the wall as soon as you entered, so hard that your breath got knocked out of your lungs.

A leg was pressed between yours as his hands firmly grabbed your hips.

Surprised, you grasped his shirt and looked up at his face.

He still looked absolutely livid, but there was also something hungry in his eyes as he looked you up and down, like you were a prey. You shivered and clasped his shirt even tighter. "Y… Yuuichi?" You stuttered.

His breathing fastened and without saying anything he pressed his lips against you in a violent and rough kiss, making you gasp. His lips were cold and a bit chapped, but they were perfect to you. They were him and you loved everything about him. They also had the slight taste of some sweet drink you couldn't place, probably from during the party.

He bit your lip, almost drawing blood, and you immediately opened them. You didn't even try to fight for dominance as his tongue slipped in, you gladly submitted yourself to him. You pressed yourself against him and moaned in his mouth as one of his hands slithered under your dress and grabbed your thigh.

You panted as he pulled away, your vision blurry and your heart fluttering in your chest.

He grinned again as he studied the state you were in. Slowly, the hand on your hip went to your back and undid the zipper of the dress. Thankfully, he didn't rip it like the previous one, you really liked this one. Your bra followed quickly, leaving you almost all naked and vulnerable before Yuuichi, who still was fully dressed.

The dress pooled at your feet and, self conscious, you crossed your arms over your chest, face turning red.

His grin grew as he caressed your face gently.

"Come on, don't hide yourself from me…" He purred, "let me see how beautiful you are."

Slowly, you uncrossed them and looked up at him through your lashes.

"That's it," He slowly kissed a way from your neck to your ear as he whispered, "good girl."

You shuddered again and grasped his shirt again as you exhaled audibly, squeezing your thighs together when you felt a familiar heat building.

He chuckled and without giving you a warning he bit you on a spot below your ear, surely leaving a mark.

You yelped and lightly slapped him on the chest. "Don't do that! Stop! It hurts!"

That obviously didn't make him happy, with a grunt he shifted his leg against your core, making you gasp, as he slammed his right hand to the wall next to your head.

"I can do whatever I want to you." He snarled, "You're mine, MINE." He moved his leg again, the friction making you moan. He chuckled at your reaction and swiped his thumb over one of your nipples.

"You're a fucking liar," he hissed, sounding amused, "telling me to stop, while you obviously like it." He squeezed your nipple as you grinded on his thigh.

"Tch, look at you, acting like some whore." He hummed, one hand playing with your tit while the other stroked your neck. "Maybe I should have let that man have a go, since you're such a slut anyway."

Your eyes winded and you pressed yourself against him, your arms wrapped around his waist and face stuffed in his shirt. "No!" You almost yelled, "I don't want him!".

He smirked and grabbed both your thighs.

"Well, why don't you prove it to me?" He easily lifted you up, your legs automatically curling around his waist as he carried you to the bed. He threw you on it, crawled over you and seated himself between your thighs, looking at you with that dark and hungry look that you loved so much.

With ease, he pulled your panties off, leaving you completely naked and at his mercy.

He kissed you again, just as fiercely as before, but less angry. Your hands reached up and you tangled them in his soft, wavy black hair. Your lips moved in tandem and you slowly grinded against him.

Again, he left you breathless and wanting more as he pulled away.

His teeth latched on your neck once again, making marks that would probably be visible for days after, as his right hand wandered down to your pussy, his fingers softly trailing down your skin, creating a path of goosebumps.

His middle finger stroked over your slit, gathering juices on his finger.

"Would you look at that," He teased, the large grin back on his face, "all wet for me, isn't that right?"

Ashamed, you turned your head away from him and hid your face with your arms.

Without warning he pushed a finger in, making you gasp.

"Look at me." He ordered, as he pumped it once, almost testing. Without saying a thing you obliged, looking into his eyes.

"Good," he purred, circling your clit with his thumb, "now tell me… who's slut you are?"

You moaned and your hands grabbed the sheets tightly as your back arched.

"Y…" you stuttered, "yours… I'm your slut!" "Good." He said, obviously pleased with your answer.

Steadily, he began thrusting his finger in and out, quickly adding a second, a filthy squishing sound and your sinful moans filling the room.

He didn't stop his marking either, your whole neck and chest were covered in bite marks and hickeys… those would be a pain to cover up tomorrow, but you were almost certain that he would want you to keep them visible, to show everyone who you belonged to.

It didn't take long before you felt your orgasm approaching, your legs tightened around his hips and your body stiffened.

"Good girl…" He coos, speeding up his pace even more when he noticed, making you cry out, "Won't you be a good slut and come for me?" And just like that the coil in your stomach snapped and you came on his fingers.

It was kinda funny when you thought about it, the power he held over you… you loved him with all your heart, you would do anything he asked you to… s̶o̶m̶e̶t̶i̶m̶e̶s̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶ ̶w̶o̶n̶d̶e̶r̶e̶d̶ ̶i̶f̶ ̶h̶e̶ ̶f̶e̶l̶t̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶s̶a̶m̶e̶ ̶w̶a̶y̶.

You whimpered when he pulled out, already feeling empty again and missing the stretch, causing him to chuckle.

"Aw, already wanting for more?" He mocked, as he brushed some hair out of your face, "Fine then… I won't keep you waiting."

He got up and swiftly got rid of his pants and shirt, not wasting a second before he crawled back onto you.

He gave his already hard cock a few pumps, making it stand fully erect.

He didn't have the thickest one, but what he lacked in girth, he made up in length.

"Ready?" He said, grinning like a mad man. You gulped in anticipation and nodded, tightening your hold on the sheets and spreading your legs even more.

With a grunt, he pushed in, holding your hips firmly in place, the slick covering your gummy walls making it easier to enter.

He waited a second, giving you time to get used to it, though you didn't really need it.

He pulled back slightly and roughly thrusted back in. Your walls fluttered and your arched your back, a gasp leaving your mouth.

He immediately took a rough pace, pounding in your tight pussy like his life depended on it, occasionally letting out a grunt or deep moan.

You held onto the sheets like they were a lifeline, writhing and wailing in pleasure, moaning his name with each thrust against your g-spot.

"Y… yes." He snarled, "I'm the… one making you feel this way." He gave an extra hard thrust, almost making you squeal. "You're mine, all mine, you hear me?"

"Y…yes!" You cried out, "I'm yours! Only yours!"

Sloppily, he pressed his mouth against yours in a wet kiss, but it only took a few seconds before he stopped and concentrated again on pounding into your dripping cunt.

"You're mine," his hot breath hitted your face as he panted above you, "I'm gonna cum inside you…" He looked you deep in the eyes. They were filled with an intensity and hunger in them you had never seen before, making the heat in your core grow even hotter. "And your gonna carry my fucking child." His thrusts sped up even more, making you a blabbering mess, unable to answer or even react to what he said. "You'd like that, won't you?" He rambled, "bearing my child? Being a mom?"

The coil in your stumach grew thighter and thighter with each thrust, you were getting really close to the edge…

"And everyone will fucking see," a furious look crossed his face, "that you're fucking mine." Each word he accentuated by giving you a hard thrust. The last one was hard enough to push you over the edge and with a loud moan you came, squeezing his cock even tighter as you reached up and wrapped your arms around his waist, burying your nails in his back.

The sudden change in tightness caused Yuuichi to groan and abandon the rough but steady rithm he had and he pounded into you without abandon.

The overstimulation made you whine and your sensitive pussy twiched.

After a couple of thrusts, he came too, painting your walls white with cum as he moaned.

The room was quiet, only the sound of both your heavy pants could be heard. Without pulling out, Yuuichi layed down next to you, slightly turning you to the side to make it more comfortable.

"Can't have me pulling out and waisting all my cum now, can we?" He joked as he curled up and cuddled with you, holding you tightly against his chest.

You peered up at his face, seeing that he genuinely ment it.

"Wait," you said surprised, "you really ment it? You want me to have your child?"

"Ofcourse," he answered, looking at you like you said something rediculous, "you thought I was lying?"

"I…" you didn't know what to answer, "I don't know…"

He hummed, but didn't say anything, only petted your hair slowly.

"Don't cover them up though." He abruptly said after a few minutes of comfortable silence.

"What?" You questioned.

"The marks," he answered, "don't cover them up."

You giggled. "Oh shut up, you dummy!"

Maybe having his child wasn't that bad of an idea?

#tomodachi game #yuuichi katagiri #yuuichi x reader #yuuichi katagiri x reader #I love this guy #also posted on ao3 #I'm mentally ill

[reflections-in-a-critical-eye]

It's funny to me what a park jimin can make you do. So before this man i dislike people who acts cute for shit i mean i hate when ppl act cute at their grown ass age then i saw this fine man and guess what? I cannot for the life of me ever hate him for acting cute like "yes beautiful whatever you say whatever you do I'm here to look at you and listen to you".

I still dislike people tryanna act cute when it doens't even look cute but nothing jm ever does would not look cute to me. I think it's also because he's kinda petite compared to other members and he's got a cute doll like face and most important he's a natural cutie so he looks cute all the time to me and even if tries to act cute for his benefit i still can't get mad at his 28 yrs old ass.

Not to hate taehyung but that face he pulls which ppl call "tata mic face" just makes me cringe every single time now when i see it. When he did it for first 2-3 times it was cute but now? Cringe af cause it just doens't suit him? Idk

I think the reason is that he's a natural at it and he knows it. I've addressed this topic recently anyway. And he still looks really young and boyish. What I wonder now is if we'll be of the same opinion when he's much older? Will the Park Jimin charm have the same effect? Or will he just turn into a middle aged hottie only, cuteness left in the past?

#m thoughts #jimin

[siriannatan]

Charms od Accidents chapter 2

I re read chapter 1and went 'I should put Pix and Sausage in this au', so I did

https://archiveofourown.org/works/53291311/chapters/141388864

Pix was not doing great if anyone asked. He was absolutely not lonely. Last break up didn't still weigh heavy on his shoulders. His work was going great. He was absolutely never tempted to strangle anyone. His family trying to pressure him into a marriage absolutely had nothing to do with his foul mood. Nothing. At. All.

He just needed a break. Couple days off to run some errands in peace. To go to bed earlier and wake up later. Maybe he could go out for drinks… alone. It could still be fun. He could meet someone new, no?

Yes. He just needed to unwind. Which is why, after getting some time off work, totally not being let out earlier by his boss. Not at all. He just went to a park. To sit and enjoy nature for a bit before he went out to eat. He could treat himself every once in a while. Even if he'd be self-conscious of being out somewhere even remotely nice alone. But he could do it. He was a grown ass man. He could handle some awkwardness. Not like anyone would be paying him much attention anyway.

But first the park and enjoying nature. If he could only enjoy nature in peace. Almost since he got there and found a free bench he could feel someone staring at him. He had thought of finding whoever that might be and giving them a piece of his mind. But decided not to. If they had nothing better than staring at a lone barely not middle-aged business man then so be it. So he just tried to relax.

Until someone approached and Pix regretted not just leaving. The handsome, tall tan man with a wild mane of chocolate brown hair and pretty eyes and smile was clearly not a human. It was just Pix’s luck that an Other Worlder would approach him. Of course no one but an Other Worlder would have tattoos that shifted colors as they moved.

“Umm, sorry, it's probably rude to ask but would you be willing to pose for me for a painting? I promise it's just a normal painting, no magic involved,” the man asked, waving his arms around. Sunflowers tattooed there shimmering a whole rainbow.

Pix just blinked at him. He? Posing for a picture? Now that was rich. He didn't really know what to say. “Buy me dinner first,” he joked before he could stop himself.

Before he could even clarify the guy was agreeing. “Of course, it's no problem,” he nodded enthusiastically. Pic felt bad for him.

“I was just kidding,” Pix sighed. “Why would you even want to paint someone like me if you don't have any ulterior motives?” He asked as the man's smile dropped slightly. What a shame. First time he talked to Other Worlder and not to mention a really handsome one, even if it was rather dangerous to think so, and he had to disappoint him. What a shame.

“I don't really know, I just got the urge to paint you,” he shrugged. “And I really don't mind treating you to dinner if you agree,” he grinned, clearly not put off by Pix's gruff demeanor.

Pix sighed again and looked at the guy a bit closer. He looked to be around Pix's age but with his kind you could never be sure. Really well built and handsome. Dressed in denim overalls splattered with pain and a plain beige shirt with like all of its three buttons undone and already struggling sleeves rolled up. And the pant legs of his overalls were rolled up too. Showing miss matched socks. And his converse were also covered in paint.

With one more sigh Pix decided he didn't really have much too loose. “Fine, but dinner first and no muse paintings,” he agreed. The enthusiastic nod he got in return was almost worth possibly losing his soul.

“Ummm, should I change first? I'd rather take you somewhere nice if I'm taking away your time, we don't have to do it all now actually, but…” man rambled.

“Calm down. How about tomorrow? We can meet here and have brunch instead of dinner?” Pix offered. “I have some time off work anyway so you're not really wasting it,” he shrugged just then realizing he never changed out of his suit. He must have looked so weird.

“That sounds great, I'm Sausage, please don't laugh, I have o idea why you humans think my name is funny. You don't have to give me your name if you're uncomfortable with that.” Pix had a feeling the guy was a talker.

“Should be fine if I only give you part of it, no?” Sausage nodded enthusiastically. “Just call me Pix then,” Pix returned the introduction. Not like he'd be seeing Sausage after tomorrow. “I'll see you here at ten then?” He added and they separated. No need to exchange numbers for a one time thing, right?

When waiting for Sausage, Pix thought himself dumb. Why did he dress up for this thing? Like. He put on his best casual clothes. And he wasn't even fully confident the guy would show up. Other Worlders were known to be fickle like that. At worst he'd sit there a bit and go have brunch after that. No big deal. At least he had an excuse to leave his apartment.

“Sorry I'm late,” Pix was genuinely shocked when Sausage showed up. Five minutes late, yes, but he did. “I really hope you didn't wait for too long,” he added with a pretty mile as Pix collected his jaw off the park pathway.

And here he thought he was overdressed. But Sausage seemed to put even more effort in with a baby blue polo shirt with darker blue checker pattern and jean under the knee shorts and freaking loafers. Pix and his nice summery button up didn't compare.

“No, it wasn't that long,” Pix shook his head. Focusing on the tattoos to remind himself who he was really dealing with. Getting involved beyond what he was already doing was dangerous. “Shall we go?” He offered to break the awkwardness.

Sausage took him to a seriously nice brunch place. And refused to let him pay for anything. “You're doing me a favor so please pick whatever you like,” he grinned as Pix pouted over the menu. It seriously was feeling like a date.

So Pix ordered some nice pancakes with all his favorite additions so it was quite the order, Sausage got waffles. And a dark coffee. Sausage got some sweet coffee concoction. And then they both had some brownies and ice cream for dessert. Pretty nice brunch if anyone asked.

And then they went to Sausage’s place for the painting process. Was Pix a bit freaked out to go to an Other Worlders home? Yes, but he trusted this one about enough to not be too scared.

“I apologize if it's messy,” Sausage said at the very entrance.

It was certainly cluttered. With little knick-knacks everywhere. Like little pots with succulents and cacti. Framed pictures mostly of just Sausage. Some mugs that looked like they were just left there after someone finished their coffee and no one bothered to collect and return where they belong. Those quickly started to float away as Sausage muttered something. Magic, Pix thought with a shudder. What kind of Other Worlder did he stumble upon?

“I hope I'm not rude but… if I could as wha…” Pix started.

“A sorcerer, though I got a bit bored studying magical tomes and picked up some crafty hobbies,” Sausage explained with no issue.

Pix nodded. So not too different from a human, he told himself to calm his nerves.

He followed Sausage to his art room where an easel and a seat, small comfy looking chaise, were waiting. It was getting real.

“Get as comfy as you need, this can take some time,” Sausage chuckled nervously.

Pix nodded, glad he wasn't the only one stressed, and lay on the couch, supporting his back with pillows. “I think I'm ready,” he said once he was as comfy as he could be considering the situation.

Sausage nodded. “Feel free to have a nap, I promise you're safe here,” he said and focused on the canvas.

At first he observed the sorcerer work. But eventually he got tired and fell asleep.

He vaguely remembered dreaming about sunflowers when he was shook awake. “Hmm? Yes?” Pic yawned looking about the room, slowly remembering where he was and why.

“It's been a couple hours, I thought you might want something to drink or a snack?” Sausage offered with a sheepish smile. Pix's half awake smile thought it was adorable.

Pix welcomed a break and snacks with open arms. Sadly in just a few more hours Sausage was done with enough of the painting to not have to take up any more of Pix's time.

As disappointed as he was to not see him again, unless their paths crossed by accident, Pix went home. Sausage even paid for a taxi to take him home. Well, at least one day of his time off was nice.

The next morning, as he was getting dressed Pix froze. Why was there a red eye on his hip? He never got any tattoos. Ever. His thoughts instantly went to the pretty sorcerer. Could it be an Other Worlder mark? Was he now bound to Sausage. “I have to find him now,” Pix whined but deep inside felt giddy to see him again.

He got dressed and, forgetting breakfast and morning coffee, went to the park. Chances of Sausage being there were slim to none but Pix knew A way to his apartment from there. Well, more precisely from the brunch place.

There were no pretty Sorcerer's with artsy hobbies there so Pix went to his apartment. He was pretty proud he didn't get lost. And that he remembered which floor and door Sausage was.

With a beating heart Pix rang the doorbell. He really hoped he was right and that Sausage was, unknowingly, behind the mark.

“Pix?” Sausage was shocked but it wasn't what Pix's mind focused on. No, it focused on messy, fresh out of bed hair and white, definitely too tight white tank top and too short for his health shorts the sorcerer was wearing. “Wha…”

“We need to talk,” Pix said, dragging his mind out the gutter. He could drool over Sausage's physique later. After they talked.

“Come on in,” Sausage nodded and yawned as he stepped back to let Pix in. Pix marched in and as soon as the door was closed turned around lifted his shirt.

“Was this you? It wasn't there when I went to bed,” he asked sternly, forcing his eyes to stay on the sorcerer's face.

Sausage paled at first and then blushed like mad. “Oh my… I'm so sorry Pix, I didn't mean to… I have no clue when I would even,” he rambled off in that cute way of his while leading Pix to a couch, as coffee made itself judging by aroma filling the place.

Then Sausage called someone and Pix listened, more amused than worried for some reason, as he slipped his coffee. “Gem please tell me they came up with a way to remove a mark in the last… Yes I did, can you… I don't care what fWhip did, I have a crisis here… What?... If you can't help then… GEM!!??... She disconnected on me,” Sausage stared at his phone in disbelief.

“Care to explain what's going on?” Pix asked, setting his mug away. He decided the shock woke Sausage enough for explanation to be requested.

“Well, at some point yesterday, I have no clue how, I was never interested in it, I marked you as mine… I'm really so so so very sorry, and I promise to take responsibility if we can't undo it…” Sausage apologized more than explained as he knelt next to Pix and rested his head on Pix's lap.

“Okay but what does this mark mean exactly?” Pix pushed for some actual explanation. “I know very little about your things,” he added as Sausage whined out another apology.

“It's meant to tell others of my kind you're mine, under my protection and care and all that. I thought they only happen if you get… you know… physically close. Like really close…” Sausage finally said something with some sense. “I guess the closest equivalent from your world would be marriage…” he added, a bit quieter.

Pix froze. Married? He was not ready for that. Not in the slightest. “And there's no way to undo it?”

“As far as I know? No. I asked a friend if she knows a way, but she said she doesn't and she's coming anyway but likely more to laugh at me than to help,” as Sausage rambled, Pix struggled with the urge to play with his hair.

“So if we can't get rid of it… what does that mean? I can just go on living like normal, no?” Pix tried to calm Sausage down a little.

Or hoped to. It seemed to not work out as Sausage suddenly moved to sit next to Pix and took both of his hands into his. “Technically but I promise to take responsibility for my lack of self control. It'd probably mean you'd have to move in here, but I think it's the safest thing anyway, there are people who would hurt you to get to me… but I promise to protect you. If you'd rather you can just laze about here, do anything you'd like… I… I'll take care of you.”

Pix's head was spinning. So it really was like marriage? And Sausage was asking him to move in? “Isn't it all a bit sudden?”

“I can free up a room for you if you'd rather have your own space?” Sausage instantly jumped to answer.

Pix was about to poke more when the doorbell rang just for the door to open on its own.

“Hypocrites,” ginger haired woman in a purple sundress practically sung as she walked in. Her green eyes instantly fell onto Pix. “Aren't you two just adorable, couldn't you have been more like this brother?” She looked at a man who didn't look too different from her. Ginger, pale, dressed in a suit with sunglasses on and a cyan haired man holding his arm.

“Can't you just leave them be?” He asked with a groan.

“You two had a lot to say about me and Pearl, so no. I plan to laugh at you two for as long as possible,” sh declared. “Welcome to the family,” she grinned as both Sausage and the man, fWhip?, groaned.

#my stuff #my stories #empires smp #empiresshipping #empires pixlriffs #empires sausage

[xxmyhomexx]

THE DESERT ROSE: My Rose

Ok, since I am going to romance Zain because he's hella interesting, I started thinking of a love scene that might happen, but it also has no connection to the game, and that's just how my imagination runs because I'm a sucker for intriguing LIs. 🤷‍♀️ WARNING: NSFW

~~~

What if they are in Brazil and they're on a date, and Zain takes a genuine interest in her but she's a bit afraid because if their age range? He's about 10 years older at minimum, but Yasmin can't help but feel a connection to him.

In the lobby of the villa they are staying, she decides to chance it and accepts Zain's attraction. They go on a date, exploring small outdoor markets in Brazil as well as eating at a restaurant that makes the best food amongst the Portuguese culture. Around four hours later, they end up in a bar, sitting at an indoor lounge area enjoying each other's company. Zain takes alcohol very well, whereas Yasmin decides to just drink water.

"Come on, try it," Zain suggests. "You never know."

"Ok, but if I end dying of alcohol poisoning, I'm contacting my father's men." Yasmin side-eyes him as she sips a beer from a bottle offered, but the touch of its taste to her lips is enough for her to fling it back in his hands. "Gross!"

Zain chuckles. "I guess Mr. Kadir's daughter isn't fond of beer."

"Not that kind," Yasmin sneers. "It tastes like vomit."

"Like I said, I admire a woman of traditional value." Zain sets his bottle aside.

"Does this traditional value include a foot up your ass?" Yasmin raises a brow.

Zain smirks. "Only if you're the one doing it."

Both of them laugh as Yasmin sighs, staring into the fireplace and listening to the patrons in the bar. So much had changed in a long span of time, and she rested her head along the arm of the chair. While pondering, Zain took the time to admire her. The dress she wore was one he designed for her, shaping the curves of her figure comfortably without it tightly restricting her. Her elegant brown hair was loose around her shoulders in waves, her eyes winged.

He set his beer to the side and leaned in close, catching her attention.

"You're pensive," he noticed.

"I just...it's amazing how much my life has changed. I was just Yasmin Al-Aziz, daughter of Kadir, Sefer's most famous politician. But now...I'm out here, with his colleague. And I wouldn't even change a damn thing."

Zain takes in her words as he notices she wears the bracelet he gifted to her. He offers her a hand, helping her from her chair. They walk through the bar and a set of double doors, up a staircase taking them to a second level. The bar he chose was also a hotel, discretely making a reservation for the evening.

"I hope you don't mind," Zain flicks a key card between two fingers. "It's quite late, and I'm awfully tired."

Yasmin blushes. "I didn't bring pajamas, Zain."

"You won't need them tonight."

Yasmin crimsons as he takes her hand and escorts her into the room. It's about the size of a standard living room, with a chaise lounge right next to a lit fireplace, and a queen-sized bed with a purple canopy. In the middle of the room was a small table with a vase of roses.

"Oh wow," Yasmin was in awe. "You really planned everything out. Let me guess, you knew I'd say yes to this date, and thought you'd get lucky?"

Zain shrugged. "No, I never take advantage of a woman like that, especially one I've...grown too fond of."

Yasmin smug look faded, and now she was genuinely confused. Zain plucked one of the roses from the vase, causing his date to warn him of the thorns. However, they'd been cut, and he twirled it in his fingers thoughtfully.

"I'm not asking on behalf of your father, but as a genuine man. Yasmin...will you give me your heart? Fully and honestly, only committed to me?"

Yasmin didn't move, couldn't even answer. She eyed the man closing in on her, eyes following the rose in his hand. He inhaled its scent before holding it out to her. He let it trail across her cheek, down the hollow of her throat, to the region between her breasts. Her chest heaved when she felt the softness of its petals tickling her skin.

"Are you trying to seduce me with a rose?" She raised a brow.

"What?" Zain's lips thinned. "Of course not!"

Yasmin smiled sincerely. "I'm kidding."

She closed her hands around the one that held the rose. "Zain, I've already known who my heart belonged to a long time ago. This attraction between us...it scares me, but years are just numbers, and they don't add up to what I want now. I want you, heart and soul, no one else."

And with this, he slammed his lips against hers. His tongue invaded her mouth, tasting every inch and corner that he could lap up. Yasmin's also did, as if was a war of who wanted dominance over the other first. After several minutes, they broke a part, gasping for air. Yasmin knew where the next part lead them, but she was nervous...and a virgin.

"Zain," she gulped. "I-I've never done...it before."

He nodded. He walked behind her and she turned to face the fireplace, the orange flames dancing in her eyes. Two palms rested on her shoulders, and she closed her eyes when she felt them start to massage her, across her collarbone, blades, and down to her back. She heard the zipper to the back come down, slowly. Soon, the golden fabric pulled at her feet, leaving her in a set of red lingerie. He kissed the base of her neck down the crook of her shoulder, letting her head lull to the side.

"Beautiful..." Zain voice rasped as he started to rid her of the rest of her underwear. Soon, she stood bare in front of him, still with her back against his taught chest. A part of her should have been embarrassed, but the fire in her belly bubbled and crackled with determination. That was, until she felt one hand slide downward.

"Zain...ugh!" She buckled her knees together, locking his wrist in a semi-firm grip.

He smirked. "Already ready."

"Zain, I-I'm..."

"Sssshh," he purred. "It's to help you. Trust me, Yasmin."

She moaned as her legs finally buckled beneath her, causing her to hold on to the arm of the chaise for balance. With aide, she crawled onto the cushions as his fingers continued their magic.

"Z-Zain, please," she gasped. "I-I n-n-need you."

He kissed his way up her spine and toward the base behind her ear. "I'm right here."

In a haze, Yasmin couldn't hear him ridding himself of his clothes and ripping open plastic, slipping on protection. She grunted when he flipped her over on her back and dragged her toward him.

"Oh my god." She gasped. Zain's body was built like a Morroccan warrior, a six-packed lined with definition but not overly done. His biceps were bigger than she thought, but he was the kind of fit she liked in a man: natural, hard, the kind that made her blush. He kissed her once more, molding her body against his. The chaise ricked from underneath their weight, but it held to full support as he crawled on top of her.

He started to lick, graze his teeth, and suck at her collarbone, neck, anywhere he could find. He then trailed his mouth tortorously down her body, earning him a pleasant tune of moans and groans. She was so lost in it, she almost didn't feel a sharp cut into her body.

"AAAUGH!" It was sudden, swift, and full. She clapped a hand over her mouth to muffle the labor breathing. It burned and stung, causing tears to prick at the corners of her eyes.

Zain didn't move, didn't budge. He just ran his fingers through her hair, assuring her it'd be better in seconds. He ran his thumbs across her wet eyes and lifted her slightly.

"It's better," she was no longer in pain. "I can take it."

Slowly, she felt him start to move. He never peeled his gaze away as she interlaced her fingers in his, urging him to go faster.

"Yes, yes, like that," she pulled him in for another kiss. "It feels like Heaven!"

Suddenly, she flipped him over, now atop of him. Zain kept his hands on her hips as she balanced one hand on the arm of the chaise with the other on his shoulder.

"More, more. Zain!"

"Such a greedy, rebellious princess." Zain smirked. With a final jerk of his hips, Yasmin collapsed on top of him, exhausted but satisfied. She lay there in his arms for a few minutes, gathering her thoughts before he slowly lifted her and carried her to the shower.

In the bathroom, Zain shampooed and soaped the length of her body, running his fingers through her soaked main. She soaped the entire area of his back, across his chest before finishing off with his hair. Yasmin pulled his head down and kissed him, molding herself against him.

"I'll never get tired of this."

"I'll never get tired of you, Yasmin. Never."

This was all she needed. He was all she needed.

#romance club #the desert rose #yasmin #zain

[reilleclan-blog]

Sooooo I gave immortals of aveum a chance and first of all the actor that plays Jak was on a show called "Never have I ever" and at the time I didn't even think about it when I watched the show but that man is currently 33years old. And the person he was kissing and being "sexual" with in the show is currently 22years old..

And yes she obviously is at the age of consent I was just kinda appalled how it was a good idea for casting to have her kissing some guy 10 years older than her.... especially in a acting setting that seems like such a way to take advantage of someone younger b/c well most times younger ppl don't know any better. ("Never have I ever" was also released in 2020. So what she was 20 while he was 30 filming that shit... that's still freshly an adult but she's just casted for kissing a grown ass man. That feels so weird to me.

Maybe the casting was done b/c maybe ppl wouldn't have given the show a shot if he wasn't in it but 33 years old.. holy fuck. And I think he's playing a senior as well and Davy has a crush on him.. (I'm not saying ppl can't date age gap but TO ME it feels super weird to have someone freshly an adult kissing on a grown man while others are recording and u know it's more vulnerable for the woman that's young) I had a 37 year old woman interested in me and at the time I was like 23 and I was so creeped out why she would ever want to date someone that's close to the age of her son.. like please ppl please be careful out there. I've had older women try to take advantage of me sadly.

But yeah yes it's an acting job but like it's so easy for the younger person in these situations to be taken advantage of.

Ok that rant is over, time to talk about the game I mentioned in the beginning. So when I first saw this game I didn't think it was gonna be good cause so many "high end" games have been straight ass. And was I right ? Uhhh I got "Immortals" for free on PlayStation so yeah it was pretty ass. (If PlayStation is putting a game out for free that only been out a year then most times that mean it wasn't good)

The story so far is very very generic like "arcane legends" story telling except arcane is more interesting and ur character has a time skip(in immortals. Side note I'm not a big fan of arcane but I'm just comparing it with this goofy magic shit) sorry lol but yeah the magic in the game is literally like "here's blue magic, ur magic depends on ur strength if u have all colors tri something ur like really special" and surprise the main character has all 3 magic colors?

Aside from the story which wasn't the worst? It's just very boring it felt like what Skyrim felt like except in Skyrim it's more interesting and yeah.. the combat is shoot shoot and "here's some abilities" in the beginning of the game they have u run thru this underground city like showing off the world but all u do is press the jump button a couple times and hold square. To make it feel "traversed" but that's all it was lol. The characters from the beginning were interesting too bad they all (SPOILERS) die

Ok fast forward Jak trains for 5 years and uh yeah. Ur fighting in a war and that's it. I would've loved if the game gave u some sort of fist fighting combat cause ur character has a cool ass melee but that was it. Also I was trying to just play the game for what it was but the game was super choppy on ps5 and there wasn't a setting to change "performance mode" or anything like that. And while in the middle of the story the game crashed.

Uhhhh yeah while running around the game the shit just felt and looked like it was held or made by spit and glue anddd um but it was a quality spit and glue. It gave a feeling of "open world" for like 2 seconds but most areas looked the same almost like "dungeon levels" but even more bland?

Idk uhh I only put like 3-4hrs into the game the limited amount of settings was also super surprising to me. I couldn't even take off motion blur and that was hurting my eyes while the game's frames drop randomly ,can't feel good.

For what I've seen I don't think this game has anything left that's interesting. I think the side characters make up for the game being bland and combat being a bit stale but I got bored fighting wave after wave of enemies, so I had to turn the game off. IF U LIKE THE GAME IM ALL HAPPY FOR U this is just my experience. Please don't start crying cause someone from a corner of the internet doesn't agree with u. Uhh 4.4/10

wtf is 4.4 idk but that's what I'd rate this game id say a 5 but whatever(also why didn't I use images from the actual game I was talking about ? Idk i didn't want to ig and the immortals game sadly didn't have a photomode idk and the game's shit so whatever)

#virtual photography #immortals of aveum #gaming commentary #darren barnet

[bookishtheaterlover7]

I don't get people having issues with 🐟 looking younger. I mean she is still twenty-six years old which is close to 30 and literally a grown ass woman. The weird thing is that she portrays teenagerd in her p*rn career. There are 40 y.o women married with way older man that always need their ID card with them because they still look in their 20s (I swear I'm not exaggerating) people are just blessed with young-looking parents.

Also, thankfully Chris can't stand her but I want to remind everyone that he doesn't care about age, race, etc. he just wants a woman with a good soul ❤️

I agree, An🫶n. We develop slowly in our 20s but the closer we are to 30. The more clear our own minds become.

Speaking from experience! A lot can be one age and then be looking like a whole different age. Yes, it can be passed down. Grandmother looks like in her 50s while being in her 70s, father looks at 30s actual age at 40s.

So, I firmly believe she's capable enough to know what she was getting into when she signed on to whatever this shit business deal is...

And I agree. I saw old Chris in the middle of The View interview, he hasn't changed, just trapped. And the guy cares. His old posts have attested to that ❤️

#An🫶n asks #booky reacts #booky answers #chris evans #chris evans fandom #Albitch #are we suddenly going a little stir crazy without any actual word of what's going on? #because I'm advertising fics like crazy too😆

[all-the-tyler-talk]

This is shows how people are biased about this situation. If he is shows her off to SM and his fans - oh he doesn't care about anybody's opinion and going to do anything he wants to do, if her keeps it private - oh he keeps her like a dirty little secret. no matter what he does, he is just doing wrong things. After reading everything on this blog today, I feel bad for him, the moment he makes a decision that some people dont like, they make him the monster. Most people don't get this, just because you don't like a decision doesnt mean its a wrong decision. His alleged 'fans' need not make him out to be a crappy person. If you don't like what he does, you can throw him out of your mind, but you need not hate him.// See, for the most part yes, if you don’t like someone don’t follow them on SM etc., but the decision people aren’t agreeing with is a pretty big one that seems to be an ongoing issue in Hollywood (but also with men in general). Grown-ass adults pursuing barely legal teens is not something that should continue getting swept under the rug. These people should be called out (and no, it’s not only men doing it) because a grown, middle-aged adult automatically has a position of power in a relationship with an 18/19/20 year old. On paper they are technically adults, sure, but they aren’t on the same level. “They’re mature for their age”, no, that’s a phrase groomers use to justify their actions. And I think most people would like him to be happy, but age appropriate is also important. And honestly, it’s not the age gap that’s necessarily the issue. It’s the age at which the relationship started/they met. If they met at 26/27 & 39/40 it’s less of an issue, because they both are likely to have similar adult-life experiences (mortgages, savings, established careers, past relationships, etc). Lastly, there’s a difference between private and secret. Being private is acknowledging that you have a partner, but mostly staying out of the public eye. Being secretive is completely ignoring the fact you are with someone, never even acknowledging they exist at all. If you’re being secretive, there’s a reason. They hid any time they were together until after she was 22. I get the feeling he thinks that is the age people will think is acceptable. He knows how it looks for a man in his mid-30s to be pursuing a 19/20 year old. That makes it even worse. He knows. And he kept it secret until he thought her age was more palatable/less contradictory to his public image for his general audience.

-

#tlh gossip #tyler x rm

[your-daily-biaswrecking]

I wanna say that namjoons dad bestfriend drabble was so freaking hot….🥵🥵🥵 maybe part 2? 🙏 when they make out in family house of yn? And her dad is next room 👀 i am so dirty pls forgive me😂

can't believe it took me so long to answer this... okay, so, my requests are not open but i decided to clear up my inbox a bit, starting with this one. as for this part 2... i know it could have been just a short scene with pure smut, but i wanted the drama of the plot, okay? also i'm not doing another psa: this is wrong and pls don't do this, it's just fiction

part 1

Namjoon knew he had to stop this. This... Whatever it was the two of you had. He had found excuses to come see you multiple times throughout the winter, always missing you too much and being unable to stay away for too long. But when you surprised him, secretly coming back to your hometown to be with just him for a week, he wasn't as happy. It was the first reminder of how different your worlds were; he was a grown man minding his career, at an age where he should be seeking marriage and kids. And you? You were skipping school to see your crush.

"I think my daughter has a boyfriend," his best friend casually told him one day soon after that. Namjoon froze, his heart the only thing reacting to those words. But his friend went on nonchalantly, pointing to his ignorance. "I don't mind, of course. I've only told her one thing, and it's not to get pregnant. I don't want her to go through what her mother and I went through, you know? She's at this age... you know? She needs to enjoy her age."

Namjoon... The grown man who should be seeking marriage and kids was fucking this girl. All those times he came inside you, filling you up a little too aggressively– as if deep down he wished he'd knock you up and keep you to himself forever.

He had to end this.

When he told you those same words –you need to enjoy your age, you need to be with a peer– you seemed more mad than hurt. But perhaps you understood. You weren't stupid, you too knew this was wrong. Perhaps you were just waiting for it to happen, waiting for the excitement of doing something against the rules to die out and the realization of the responsibility to hit him. You didn't blame him. But you were still annoyed. Stopped talking altogether, the only news he got from you now came from your father. You did get a boyfriend, or so he was told. And you were doing well with your studies and you were generally living a great student's life.

Summertime and you were here again. Along with your so-called boyfriend. Namjoon was so pissed off when he saw the skinny, mussy, sweaty boy that seemed to either be very slow or high off his ass all the time. And you seemed pleased with yourself.

"You really had to bring him here?"

You chuckled– an evil laugh, he thought. "I thought you'd be happy to see me dating someone my age." When your eyes met his, you made him feel like your positions were switched. So confident while he was almost throwing a tantrum. "What about you?" you asked. "Dating anyone your age?"

On that topic, Namjoon had more than enough women showing interest. And your father, for some reason, was dead set on finding him a wife. All those blind dates he had to escape from! He was simply not interested. He didn't want to admit it was because he was still thinking about you; that no one else would ever be a good replacement for you. He didn't want to because he didn't plan on coming back to you; he had to be the adult, the mature one, and stay away. It was the logical and the right thing to do. He didn't want to admit that, despite all of his intelligence and reason, he still thought about you... Because if he did this would no longer be just some attraction, just some fucking around. If he admitted it was more, what would happen then?

No... this was good. You had already moved on. Enjoying your life the way you were supposed to, a life he had no room to be in. All he had to do now was follow your example.

"Namjoon..."

That text was sent past 2 am on a rainy night in October. The only text he had gotten from you in months. That was all it said yet it made his stomach tight as if you had moaned his name in his ear. As if he knew exactly why you had texted him; needy in the middle of the night, that measly boy surely unable to satisfy you, knowing exactly who could help you at that moment. Fuck... Perhaps if he replied right then things would go back to how they were a year ago. He didn't. And you didn't text him again.

"Joon! You are staying for the holidays, right? You should spend Christmas with us." Your father was more than happy to share that day meant to be with family, with his best friend. Namjoon was like family anyway, wasn't he? When he tried to come up with an excuse, the other insisted. "See? If you were married now you would have someone to spend Christmas with, but you're not, so you'll come to spend it with our family. My daughter's coming home tomorrow, too. Ah. Could you pick her up 'cause–"

"No. I can't. Too busy."

The man laughed. "It's okay. But I am expecting you for dinner on Christmas!" he said with a pointing finger. "I'm not taking no for an answer."

And so there he was. Sitting right across from you at the table. In the months that had passed, you had gained some weight and he thought you had never looked better. Your face a little fuller, your jeans straining against your round thighs and hips, your breasts fitting your curves just right. The body of a grown woman. All Namjoon could think about was feeling you against him again. And he was mad again... Did your stupid boyfriend have the chance to fuck you like that? He didn't deserve you.

"You didn't bring that boy with you this time..." he commented.

"What, Eric?" your mother answered for you. "They broke up."

Namjoon raised an eyebrow, eyes never leaving yours. "Really? How come?"

The corner of your lips turned upwards. "He was just... Too much of a kid."

He hated the way he sighed in relief, the way excitement bubbled in his stomach. He shouldn't be as happy to hear that as he was... He glanced at you again, your hair that had grown longer pushed back to expose your neck. It was getting harder and harder for Namjoon to keep his mind from wandering off to inappropriate things. Along with other parts getting hard.

And then your father spoke. "Joon. You know she's graduating next month, right?" His eyebrows shot up high on his forehead because no– no, he didn't know that. "She's looking for an internship and I thought–"

"Dad..."

"–you could help her get in your company? Maybe you could put in a good word for her?"

"Dad!" Your tone and the way your eyes widened towards your father's way betrayed the fact that the topic hadn't been new, and that you were clearly against the idea.

He looked at you until you finally turned back to face him. And surprising both himself and you, he said: "Yes, of course."

"I'm going to sleep," you announced after the dinner was over and you had helped clean up the table. You gave Namjoon a long glance before you disappeared down the hallway. Your parents had moved to the couch, TV on for some music and a game of cards keeping them busy when their friend asked to go to the bathroom. And you heard a soft knock on your door. "I'm assuming you know that's the wrong door you're knocking at," you spoke before you opened. Already in your sleeping outfit that consisted of an oversized t-shirt and just your panties.

"You knew it was me?" Namjoon whispered, eyes still stuck on your thighs.

"My parents don't knock."

You let him in, closing the door behind you and leaning on it as you looked up at him through your lashes. You both stayed silent for a moment, your breaths the only thing filling the empty, badly lit room. You noticed how he wet his plump lips and bit them while he was examining your face. So close you could smell his aroma, the one you never forgot.

“You don’t have to… you know,” you spoke, referring to your father’s idea. “I know you want to avoid me.”

Namjoon exhaled from his nose as if he was annoyed. “I- It’s not that I want to…”

“I know.” You gulped, finding your mouth wetting too much at the wish of kissing him, along with other parts getting wet. “You don’t want to— you have to.” You dared place your hands on his chest, and instead of pulling away, he leaned into your touch. Feeling his heart beat fast under your fingertips like the way he was breathing. He was slowly losing his mind but he knew he wasn’t the only one. “You don’t have to push me away,” you continued in a low tone. “I know what I’m doing. I’m the one coming to you.”

“Little one…” he rasped, and it had you catching a moan in the back of your throat. Oh, how you longed for his pet names, his voice calling to you lovingly. He stepped even closer. He knew he shouldn’t be there, he shouldn’t be doing this right now… But how could he stop? He wanted you so bad. His hands cupped your cheeks, lips just a breath away from yours, brushing against you as he whispered: “Come work with me… I wanna see you every day.”

The fabric of his shirt pooled in your palms as you grabbed him, closing the tiny gap between you. Both of you sighing in a mixture of relief and impatience as your lips crushed together. The softness only lasted a few seconds before you were moaning and Namjoon was pinning you on the door, deepening the kiss by slipping his tongue in like he was trying to devour you. Your arms wrapped around him while his hands traveled down your body, groping you like you were his stress relief toy. Your hips, your ass… He broke the kiss and buried his face in your neck.

“Ah- daddy,” you whined, grinding on him.

Namjoon felt like he was about to cry. “I missed you so much!” he choked out right before latching his teeth on your skin. Your naughty fingers were struggling to unzip his pants quickly and it made him chuckle instead of sob. “Fuck—” he growled. And he pulled back to stare at you with dark eyes. “Such a little slut, so desperate for my cock.” There he was; the Namjoon you knew so well. His words made you shiver.

“Please, daddy. I need you right now.”

He placed a hand on the door right next to your head, while he freed his dick with the other. “Your parents are right outside.”

Ignoring his words, you discarded your panties and took him in your hand, biting your lip. “I can’t wait any longer, need you to fuck me right now, plea-ase!” you whined a little too loud and Namjoon growled, grabbing your legs and lifting you until you straddled his waist, back on the door.

“Gosh, you’ll get daddy in big trouble, baby.” Tip of his cock brushing your wet folds, making your mouth drop. “They might come looking for me.”

“Quick,” you sobbed. “Be quick, please, just— ah!”

He slipped inside and you both gasped. Your legs were shaking at the feeling, eyes rolling back and a moan as quiet as you could manage rumbled through your neck. He got as deep as he could, face scrunching as if he was in pain. You kissed him.

“I’ve missed you, daddy. I’ve missed this so much.”

His head was spinning as he was trying to find the right words, the words that could describe exactly how he felt about you. “I- I-”

Laughter echoed through the house— your mother. You both froze. Namjoon glanced at the doorknob, and then he grabbed it; your parents could walk in at any moment. He didn’t stop though, nothing could stop him now. He angled his hips and started thrusting into you; fast and sloppy because the clock was ticking.

“Daddy…” you mewled, unable to do or say anything else.

Namjoon clasped a hand over your mouth. “Shh,” he demanded. “You better not start screaming like the little whore you are, or they’ll hear us.”

His words had the opposite effect of what he wanted; making you moan harder. And the fact that he had his big hand over your mouth made you not care to keep quiet. Your choked whines along with the wet sounds of his dick slipping in and out of you could definitely be heard from the other side of the door, perhaps even from that couch your father was on had it not been for the music.

“Shit, you—” he growled. He finally dropped his hand from your mouth, wanting to grab your ass to lift you higher, fuck you better.

Your head fell on his shoulder before you decided to bite down on it to stop yourself from screaming as Namjoon’s thick dick drilled into you with no mercy. “So-o good…”

“Yeah?” He sounded out of breath already, yet cocky. “Did you forget what it’s like to have a real man fuck your pussy, baby? That little boy didn’t do shit, did he? He can’t fuck you as good as daddy, right?”

Your nails dug in his back and you felt your brain so rotten like he was about to fuck you to sleep. “I… don’t know…” you mumbled.

Namjoon stopped. He pulled his head slightly back but he couldn’t see your face. “What?” Your body squirmed, trying to chase that high he had just denied you. “What do you mean—”

“I don’t know what he was like,” you whined. “I only thought of you.”

Another laughter, loud voices coming from that couch. It didn’t scare him that much this time, his heart was already racing and he only gave that direction a glance before he was pulling your head back to look into your eyes. Only then did he notice the tear stains on your cheeks, and you sobbed, choked as he thrust into you again.

“I only thought of you, daddy…” you repeated with a whimper. And it had his eyes rolling to the back of his head, pumping into you a couple more times, hard, before he spilled his seed deep inside.

A whisper. “Fuck…” Panting and groaning as he was trying to come to, and you watching his glistening face as he grimaced and bit his lip. He let you down, resting his forehead on the door while he still struggled to collect himself, and you basked in the pride it gave you. You tucked him back in his underwear and zipped him up with a smirk on your lips, seeing how he finally started to be able to focus his eyes on you.

You opened the door slightly and peeked out; your parents were still playing cards on the couch, they didn’t notice you just like they probably hadn’t noticed how long Namjoon was gone for.

“You should go back,” you whispered as you came back into the room. Namjoon kissed you quickly like he was trying to catch you off guard. And then he grabbed your chin, staring down at you, breaths still coming out too hard.

“Don’t fall asleep, baby. I’ll come back to finish what I started when your father goes to bed.”

You smiled, pushing him slightly back yet he wasn’t budging. “Go…” you prompted as you started feeling his cum sipping out of your cunt and slowly running down your thighs.

Namjoon smiled too. “Really. I’ll eat you out till you pass out, baby, I promise.”

In the dark of the room and the rush of the moment, you decided you had no reason not to let your thoughts slip out. “I wish you could just come to sleep in my arms.”

He got a little serious. And he kissed you again, slower than before. “I’ll see what I can do.”

He left through that door, meeting your parents that were happy to see him yet didn’t even bother to point out his long absence. Sitting next to his best friend while his breathing was still shaky from fucking his daughter.

Shit… That girl will get him in so much trouble…

Masterlist

#bts #bangtan #namjoon #rm #kim namjoon #request #drabble #fanfic #oneshot #smut #dilf namjoon #bts drabble #bts smut #namjoon drabble #namjoon smut #namjoon one shot #namjoon x you #namjoon x reader #kkklaudiaaa17

[blackstarising]

coming back to this post i made again to elaborate - especially as the ted lasso fandom is discussing sam/rebecca and fandom racism in general. there are takes that are important to make that i had failed to previously, but there's also a growing amount of takes that i have to, As A Black Person™, respectfully disagree with.

tl;dr for the essay below sam being infantilized and the sam/rebecca relationship are not the same issue and discussing the former one doesn't mean excusing the latter. and we've reached the glen of the Dark Forest where we sit down and talk about fandom racism.

i should have elaborated this in my last post about sam/rebecca, but i didn't. i'll say it now - i personally don't support sam and rebecca getting together for real. i believe what people are saying is entirely correct, even though sam is an adult legally, he and rebecca are, at the very least, two wildly different stages of life. for americans, he's at the equivalent of being a junior in college. there are things he hasn't gotten the chance to experience and there are areas he needs to grow in. when i was younger, i didn't understand the significance of these age gaps, i just thought it would be fine if it was legal, but as someone who is now a little older than sam in universe, i understand fully. we can't downplay this. whether or not you think sam works for rebecca or not, even despite the gender inversion of the Older Man Younger Woman trope, whether or not he is a legal adult, i don't think at this point in time, their relationship would work. i think it's an interesting narrative device, but i don't want to see it play out in reality.

that being said!

what's worrying me is that two discussions are being conflated here that shouldn't be. sam having agency and being a little more grown™ than he's perceived to be does not suddenly make his relationship with rebecca justified. i had decided to bring it up because sam was being brought into the spotlight again and i was starting to realizing that his infantilization was more common than i felt comfortable with.

sam's infantilization (and i will continue to call it that), is a microaggression. it's is in the range of microaggressions that i would categorize as 'fandom overcompensation'. we have a prominent character of color that exhibits traits that aren't stereotypical, and we don't want to appear racist or stereotypical, so we lean hard in the other direction. they're not aggressive, they're a Sweet Baby, they're not world weary, they're now a little naive. they're not cold and distant, they're so nice and sweet that there's no one that wouldn't want approach them, and yeah, on their face, these new traits are a departure and, on their face, they seem they look really good.

but at a certain point, it reaches an inflection point, and, like the aftertaste of a diet coke, that alleged sweetness veers into something a lot less sweet. it veers into a lack of agency for the character. it veers into an innocence that appears to indicate that the person can't even take care of themselves. it veers into a one-dimensional characterization that doesn't allow for any depth or negative emotion.

it's not kind anymore. it's not a nice departure from negative stereotypes. it's not compensating for anything.

it's patronizing.

it is important that we emphasize that characters of color are more than the toxic stereotypes we lay on them, yes, but we make a mistake in thinking that the solution is overcorrection. for one thing, people of color can usually tell. don't get it twisted, it's actually pretty obvious. for another, it just shifts from one dimension to another. people of color are still supposed to be Only One Character Trait while white people can contain multitudes. ted, who is pretty much as pollyanna as they come, can be at once innocent and naive and deep and troubled and funny and scared. jamie can be a prick and sexy and also lonely and also a victim of abuse. sam, however, even though he was bullied (by jamie, no less), is thousands of miles away from home, and has led a protest on his team, is usually just characterized as human sunshine with much less acknowledgement of any other traits beyond that.

and that's why i cringe when fandom calls sam a Sweet Baby Boy without any sense of irony. is that all we're taking away? after all this time? even for a comedy, sam has received a substantive of screen time over two whole seasons, and we've seen a range of emotions from him. so as a black person it's hurtful that it's boiled down to Sweet Baby Boy.

that's the problem. we need to subvert stereotypes, but more importantly, we need to understand that people of color are not props, or pieces of cardboard for their white counterparts. they are full and actualized and have agency in their own right and they can have other emotions than Angry and Mean or Sweet and Bubbly without any nuance between the two. i think the show actually does a relatively good job of giving sam depth (relatively, always room for improvement, mind you), especially holding it in tension with his youth, but the fandom, i worry, does not.

it's the same reason why finn from star wars started out as the next male protagonist in the sequel trilogy but by the third movie was just running around yelling for REY!! it's the same reason why when people make Phase 4 Is the Phase For Therapy gifsets for the mcu and show wanda maximoff, loki, and bucky barnes crying and being sad but purposefully exclude sam wilson who had an entire show to tell us how difficult his life is, because people find out if pee oh sees are also complex, they'll tell the church.

and the reason why i picked up on this very early on is because i am an organic, certified fresh, 100% homegrown, non-gmo, a little ashy, indigenous sub saharan African black person. the ghanaian tribes i'm descended from have told me so, my black ass parents have told me so, and the nurses at the hospital in [insert asian country here] that started freaking out about how curly my hair was as my mother was mid pushing me out told me so!

and this stuff has real life implications. listen: being patronized as a black person sucks. do you know how many times i was patted on the back for doing quite honestly, the bare minimum in school? do you know how many times i was told how 'well spoken' or 'eloquent' i was because i just happen to have a white accent or use three syllable words? do you know how many times i've been cooed over by white women who couldn't get over how sweet i was just because i wasn't confrontational or rude like they wrongly expected me to be?

that's why they're called microaggressions. it's not a cross on your lawn or having the n-word spat in your face, but it cuts you down little by little until you're completely drained.

so that's the nuance. that's the subversion. the overcompensation is not a good thing. and people of color (and i suspect, even white people) have picked up on, in general, the different ways fandom treats sam and dani and even nate. what all of these discussions are converging on is fandom racism, which is not the diet form of racism, but another place for racism to reveal itself. and yeah, it's uncomfortable. it can seem out of left field. you may want to defend yourself. you may want to explain it away. but let me tap the sign on the proverbial bus:

if you are a white person, or a person of color who is not part of that racial group, even, you do not get to decide what is not racist for someone. full stop. there are no exceptions. there is no exit clause for you. there is no 'but, actually-'. that right wasn't even yours to cede or waive.

(it's also important to note that people of color also have the right to disagree on whether something is racist, but that doesn't necessarily negate the racism - it just means there's more to discuss and they can still leave with different interpretations)

people don't just whip out accusations of racism like a blue eyes white dragon in a yu-gi-oh duel. it's not fun for us. it's not something we like to do to muzzle people we don't want to engage with. and we're not concerned with making someone feel bad or ashamed. we're exposing something painful that we have to live with and, even worse, process literally everything we experience through. we can't turn it off. we can't be 'less sensitive' or 'less nitpicky'. we are literally the primary resources, we are the proverbial wikipedia articles with 3,000 sources when it comes to racism. who else would know more than us?

what 2020 has shown us very clearly is that racism is systemic. it's not always a bunch of Evil White Men rubbing their hands together in a dark room wondering how they're going to use the 'n-word' today. it's systemic. it's the way you call that one neighborhood 'sketchy'. it's how you use 'ratchet' and 'ghetto' when describing something bad. it's how you implicitly the assume the intelligence of your friend of color. it's the way you turned up your nose and your friend's food and bullied them for it in middle school but go to restaurants run by white people who have 'uplifted' it with inauthentic ingredients. it's telling someone how Well Spoken and Eloquent they are even though you've both gone to the same schools and work at the same workplace. it's the way you look down at some people of color for having a different body type than you because they've been redlined to neighborhoods where certain foods and resources are inaccessible, and yet mock up the racial features that appeal to you either through makeup or plastic surgery.

it's how when a person of color behaves badly, they're irredeemable, but a white person performing the same act or something similar is 'having a bad day' or 'isn't normally like this' or 'has room to grow' and we can't 'wait for their redemption arc', and yes, i'm not going to cover it in detail in this post but yes this is very much about nate. other people have also brought up the nuances in his arc and compared them to other white characters so i won't do it here.

these behaviors and reactions aren't planned. they aren't orchestrated. they're quite literally unconscious because they've been lovingly baked into western society for centuries. you can't wake up and be rid of it. whether you intended it or not, it can still be racist.

and it's actually quite hurtful and unfair to imply that concerns about racism in the TL fandom are unfounded or lacking any depth or simply meant to be sensational because you simply don't agree with it. i wish it was different, but it doesn't work that way. i'm not raising this up to 'call out' or shame people, but i'm adding to this discussion because, through how we talk about sam, and even dani and nate, i'm yet again seeing a pattern that has shortchanged people of color and made them feel unwelcome in fandom for far too long.

coach beard said it best: we need to do better.

#ted lasso #sam obisanya #ted lasso spoilers #fandom racism

[ladydaemon]

SICK DAYS

kaz brekker x female! reader

A/N: Yes, I realize how cliché and very non-Kaz this is. I tried my best guys, but I am in the mood for fluff and only fluff so yeah.

Summary: After a night in the rain, Y/N has a cold and it's up to Kaz to take care of her, a difficult task indeed.

Warnings: swearing, really horrible writing, not proofread writing, just me spitting out Words™ at three in the morning

Dangerous assassins do not need sick days.

It was an extremely hypocritical thought, and Y/N knew it. She thought the thought anyway, because at this point, there seemed to be no aspect in her life that was not fueled entirely by spite.

"Please, for the love of the Saints, go to sleep, Y/N," Inej begged, forcing the woman back onto the bed. "You are sick. You need rest."

"I do not need rest, I need caffeine and waffles," the wheezing woman replied stubbornly, trying to get past Inej, who was blocking the doorway of her room. The Slat, usually thundering with noise and chatter, was silent as the grave - it was one of the rare days in Ketterdam where it was sunny, and everyone was either out enjoying the weather or enjoying pickpocketing someone who was enjoying the weather. "I am a grown-ass woman who also happens to be very good at using the bang-bang machines we call guns so please move aside, I need fresh air."

It was arguably entirely Y/N's fault that she was stuck inside in the first place - first, she had stayed out in the rain too long, despite Kaz's numerous protests. Second, she had, in a grave act of stupidity, gone down for breakfast the next morning. Normally, this would not have been a problem. However, on this particular day, her eyes were red and swollen and itchy and her lungs hurt and it was generally very obvious that she had a cold.

These were the deciding factors which led to her ultimate demise:

House arrest.

Though the fact that she was notorious for her spontaneous, impulsive, reckless, throw-caution-to-the-wind nature (along with the fact that Kaz, from multiple bad experiences he would rather not repeat, knew that she had nearly no self-preservation skills) probably had something to with it.

Also she apparently needed a chaperone. Which was probably a good idea, but Y/N wasn't about to admit that anytime soon.

"You are seventeen and you have a window, darling," the smooth voice of one Kaz Brekker, the devil himself, interrupted Y/N's feeble excuse of an escape.

"But Kaz," Y/N whined, pouting. Inej gave the man an exasperated look as if to say, See what I've been dealing with?

"Darling, you'll only have to stay here longer if you don't try and get better."

"Still."

Kaz, lips twitching in a very non-Kaz way, turned to Inej. "You can go. I suppose I'll play nursemaid."

The Wraith chucked darkly, already stepping out Y/N's window. "Good luck with that."

As soon as she had climbed out the room and was well out of earshot, Kaz turned on his heel and walked out. Y/N, thoroughly confused, took a second to contemplate whether this act was meant that she was officially free, or that she was supposed to follow him. Her question was answered a moment later when he called out, not sparing her a backwards glance, "Are you coming?"

She sighed dejectedly, following him up the stairs to hid room. With a flamboyant and smug bow, he opened the door for her. "Ladies first."

She rolled her eyes at him but entered the room nonetheless. Kaz closed the door behind him and strode heavily to his desk, taking the time to shuffle and order some papers. Y/N stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, unsure as to what in the hell she was supposed to do. Kaz flicked his eyes up to her and jerked his head towards the black-sheeted bed that occupied almost a fourth of the room.

She stared at it for a moment. "You want me to sleep. On your bed. While you watch." It came out more an incredulous statement than a question.

"Sorry to break it to you, but I can't devote all my time to taking care of you, and I also can't leave you alone unsupervised while ill. This is our compromise," Kaz explained somewhat impatiently.

"I am not going to get in that crusty-ass bed, that, in case you have forgotten, belongs to my boss, AKA you. For all I know you sleep nude."

One of Kaz's eyebrows twitched. "The sheets were changed this morning. And for the record, I don't."

"Still not going to do it. That takes the creepy-o-meter to like, a thousand."

"You're a criminal who spies on brothels. This is nothing."

"Still not doing it. This feels fundamentally wrong."

"I'll buy you a nice dagger if you just shut up and get in the damn bed." Saints, he was already exasperated, and he had barely been here five minutes. A new respect for Inej found its way into his being.

Y/N went quiet for a minute, considering. "One of the serrated ones with the fancy gilded handles?"

"Whatever dagger your heart desires."

"Two daggers and a gun."

"One dagger and a gun."

"Deal," Y/N decided, plopping down on the bed. It still felt wrong, but she did need a new dagger - Wylan had blown hers up in a previous job.

She carefully peeled the pristine sheets and blankets away from the mattress, half expecting a dozen poisonous things to pop out. The only thing it released was the strangely comforting smell of wood oil and ink (and a bit of gunpowder, but this was Kaz Brekker we're talking about).

Y/N slipped beneath the covers, her head resting comfortably on the cloud-like pillows.

I bet this bitch sleeps like a baby every night.

"I can still beat your ass, Brekker," she mumbled. Yeah, she was sick, but she also had a reputation to uphold.

"On a regular day, I have no doubt about it. Currently, you are prohibited from doing anything that isn't sleeping, peeing, or contemplating life. Doctor's orders."

"Well, I'm going to go pee then. More freedom." She attempted to stand up from the surprisingly soft bed but the in the second it took for her to try and stand, Kaz, moving surprisingly quickly for a man with a cane, pinned her to the bed by her shoulders with an exasperated sigh.

"Just stay still. Please," he breathed.

"Get me a sweet bun and maybe," she breathed back, but didn't move. Despite her almost child-like demeanor, she was one of the original Dregs, here as a child even before Kaz. He had been the only one her age when he had joined, so naturally, she had befriended him (well, as much as you can befriend Kaz Brekker). She knew about his phobia of touch, and how much it meant that he was touching her, even with his gloves on.

Kaz released her with a sigh and stalked over to his desk where he rummaged around for a bit until he produced a small tin that looked abut as old as he was. He tossed it at her and she grabbed it, opening it to see some biscuits that looked as hard as rocks. "That's all I have, and all you're going get. Don't break a tooth."

Y/N sighed, staring at the biscuits mournfully before taking one out of the tin and gnawing on it. It would have been easier to bite on the barrel of one of Jesper's guns. "You're mean."

"You're acting like a petulant child."

Y/N made a disgruntled noise from the back of her throat, sinking back into the silk pillows and wrapping the blankets tighter around her. She had made no visible mark on the cookie, and had only succeeded in covering it with slobber. She put it back in the tin and noticed Kaz wrinkle his nose at her.

She doubted the biscuits would ever see the light of day again.

She watched Kaz do his paperwork, a surprisingly interesting thing to do. He had taken off his hat and jacket, and rolled up his sleeves. He even took his gloves off, preferring to use a pen without the ridiculous slipperiness of the leather. The papers shuffled in a soothing rhythm, and soon, Y/N began to feel less cooped up and a bit more relaxed.

Ever since she had been taken away from her family and thrown onto the tiny slaving ship, Y/N had always had a touch of claustrophobia (well, it was a bit more than a touch, but she wasn't willing to admit that just yet). The tiny room with a mattress on the flooor was really just a decoration at this point - she slept on the roof most nights and every waking hour was in Ketterdam, simply walking if there were no pockets to be picked.

Drowsily, she watched as Kaz scratched something out on paper, his face creasing ever so slightly. The pen made a nice sound, she found, and paired with the strangely calming scent of his room and the rustling of papers, it made her feel almost like it was rainy day, the kind where you curled up by the fire and read a book or cuddled with someone.

"I doubt staring at my face will help you fall asleep, love," Kaz noted without looking up from his work.

"Your face is the most interesting thing here."

For the barest fraction of a second, Kaz looked like he had short-circuited. The moment was gone as soon as it came, however, and he simply raised an eyebrow at her. "You're very immature sometimes."

"Thanks!" Y/N said cheerfully. "It was the trauma."

"Trauma hardens people, it doesn't make them softer," Kaz dismissed.

"I agree wholeheartedly. However, there's a difference between an excellent mask and incompetence," she replied. "Now come over here and show what's bothering you, I can see it on your face."

Kaz looked up at her, noting the fact that she probably wouldn't shut up unless he did as she asked. He rolled his eyes, hobbling over to the bed. As he sat, she could feel his weight pushing the mattress down.

Before he could say a word, she snatched the paper in his hands and began scanning it. "What's wrong with it?"

"The numbers don't add up."

She stared at the document for another second, then back up at Kaz. "Who are you and what have you done with Kaz Brekker?"

He blinked at her.

"You forgot to carry the one. The numbers don't add up because you... well, added them wrong," she explained softly. She looked up at him, concern crossing her features. "Do you need a nap?"

Kaz huffed out a breath. "I'm fine. You're just distracting me, that's all."

"We're going to ignore the fact that you think I'm distracting and instead focus on the fact that you have not slept in several days."

Kaz's nostrils flared slightly in indignation. Before he could speak, however, Y/N cut him off. "Kaz, I have known you since I was eleven. I'm also not fucking blind. Yes, I know you are essentially running a mafia at age seventeen. Yes, I know you are under pressure. Yes, I know there is at any given moment a bounty on your head. Yes, I know I am sick and it is technically your job to take care of me. But can we please just make a deal or a truce or something in which you get some fucking rest?"

Kaz was quiet for a moment before the corner of his mouth twitched. "Always the mother hen for everyone except yourself."

She was startled into a laugh. "What can I saw, I was a born hypocrite."

Kaz did end up getting a couple hours of sleep, even if it was at Y/N's insistence.

However, he almost regretted it when Jesper barged in and, with a gleeful cackle, found them both sleeping in the same bed with one of his legs pressed up against hers - Kaz's version of flat-out cuddling.

Almost.

#kaz brekker #kaz brekker x reader #six of crows #grishaverse #kaz brekker imagine

[ithinkilikeit-reactions]

The coffee and the cup (Jeong Yunho/Smut)

Ateez Masterlist                                       Group Masterlist 

A/N: You bet your ass this was inspired by the pottery video. I was also inspired by a lot of ceramics artists I follow on instagram and thought this was fun.

This is a feel good story, no bad things, just good. Just wanted a feel good thing. 

Tags: Potter! Yunho x Café owner reader!, Fem! reader, a lot of pining and sweet glances, coffee, a freshly starting relationship, love confessions, Hongjoong that likes to judge

Smut tags: Very sweet, gentle, soft dom! Yunho, marking, oral (female receiving), Fingering (female receiving), scratching, Praise, teasing, Unprotected sex (wrap it up y’all)

Word count:  8046 (I don’t do short stories) 

There was something utterly comforting about the feeling a café could give you. It was something that you had always enjoyed, from being in middle school, getting cookies and chocolate milk before school, to high school and college where you did all day study sessions, cafe’s had become a safe haven for you. Therefore it was only natural that you had grown up with a dream of starting your own. 

With the little money you had managed to save up and the help from your family, your cafe had become a reality. A reality that you never thought would happen. It was even more surreal as you unpacked your first groceries and placed them in the pantry and refrigerator, looking around your place. Your place.

It was small, with only two, two persons tables indoor and two outdoors, it was more a “grab a drink and go” type of place and it was perfect for you. It was seated in a small street, filled with small locally owned businesses and what better way to introduce yourself, than to bake. 

A classic lemon blueberry muffin was the taste of coming home, the taste you wanted to sell at your store, a taste you wanted to give your fellow shop owners. You wanted people to feel comforted at your place, so you made something comforting with a little twist, so that everybody could see what type of person you were. Baking was your second love to coffee, so you went to work making around 30 muffins. The delicious smell filling your store and placing a smile on your face. Nothing could drag your day down, not that day.

Once the muffins had cooled enough from coming out of the oven, you packaged them carefully and placed them all in a little wicker basket, setting off to say hi to your neighbors. Starting with the little music instrument store right next door. The owner wasn’t what you expected at all, young, well dressed with one painted nail on each hand, going by the name Hongjoong. He greeted you with an amazing smile, wondering how he could help you.

“Welcome! Can I help you find anything?” He asked and you couldn’t help but beam a smile back at him. “No believe me you wouldn’t want me playing any instruments. I bought the café next door and wanted to introduce myself!” You said raising your basket to show him. “Oh! Welcome to the neighborhood!” He shook your free hand, smiling at you brightly. “So you’re going to be providing us caffeine from now on. I greatly appreciate it.” He said and you couldn’t help but laugh. It’s nice that people were missing a café here, gave you hope that you would do well.

You grabbed one package of muffins and placed them on his counter. “I hope you like lemon blueberry muffins. I made them from scratch and well they’re my personal favorite.” You explained and he tore into the packaging quickly. “I’m partial to anything made with bread.” He said, pulling apart a muffin and popping a piece into his mouth. “Oh, everyone around here is going to love these. You should head to Wooyoung’s restaurant down the street, Yeosang’s skate shop, Oh and Yunho’s little store next door. He might eat you out of house and home but oh boy he might become your best customer. These are delicious.” He complimented and you felt a sigh of relief. No matter how many people tried your food and drinks, you still got anxious when it came to their opinions. “I’ll head there now. Would be nice to have a customer before we even open.” You said softly and Hongjoong nodded. “He’s loyal too. If he likes what you have, he’ll never go anywhere else.” He added, making you laugh.

The sound of the door opening behind you made you glance in that direction, seeing a teenage boy looking around the instruments. “Well, I’ll let you get back to it.” You said, heading for the door. “Thank you again for the muffins and if you ever need any help with anything, don’t be stranger.” Hongjoong told you, making you feel all warm in your chest. He was incredibly kind, you could tell from the way he carried himself. “I won’t. Have a good day!” You said, waving as you exited his store. 

It was an incredibly good day out, sun brightly shining down on you as you walked to the little shop next to the music store. The bell signaled that you entered the building, but there was no one in sight. You stood by the door a moment, not wanting to overstep boundaries even if it was a store to shop in. Not only for that reason though, you were scared to knock something over and break it. 

The store was filled with shelves lining the bright yellow painted walls, on those shelves were a bunch of clay made works. From little figurines to beautifully sculpted plates, vases and mugs coated with bright paint. It was all so colorfull and bright, making a large smile pull over your lips. 

However, no one came to the front so you remained still another moment before calling out. “Hello?” You asked, holding on to your basket and leaning forward to see if you could spot anyone. “Hello?” You asked again, not really expecting a response but wanting to make sure. 

“Come on to the back, I can’t open the door back here because my hands are really dirty!” A voice called out and spotted the door that muffled it. You maneuvered yourself carefully to not knock things over as you made your way to the door, spotting a few mugs and plates you wouldn’t mind adding to the café’s collection on your way. You stood in front of the door not quite knowing what to expect when you opened the door, but you did it anyways. 

It lead to a little studio, with big windows in the back and more shelves lining the room. In the middle sat a pottery wheel with what looked like a half finished vase resting on it. But what was really eye catching, was the man washing his hands by the sink in the corner.

He was tall, with long legs, dark hair and broad shoulders. Wearing blue jeans and a white t-shirt that had clay stains all over them. Then he turned around, finally exposing his face to you and you seemingly felt your knees get weak. Never in your life had you seen eyes like his, so big and full of emotion. It only made the stripe of dried clay on his cheek seem even cuter. 

“Can I help you with anything?” He asked, drying his hands before walking towards you. Lifting your basket, you had a hard time finding words for a moment as he smiled at you. “I- uh- Hongjoong next door sent me over. I bought the café 2 doors down and wanted to introduce myself.” You explained, watching his smile get even bigger. You quickly stuck your hand out to his and he looked down at it, taking it gently. “I’m Y/N.” You said, really taking note of the way his eyes sparkled. “I’m Yunho.” 

Now Yunho knew it wasn’t really all that common for people his age to make a living off of pottery and art. But he saw that as a challenge, a challenge he took head on and had managed to do it. It was his passion, it was what he was good at and well, the looks of surprise on people’s faces when they asked him what he did for a living was an added plus. 

Now he hadn’t been expecting any visitors that day so he was taking the time to create a vase he had been thinking about making. But he wasn’t mad at the interuption at all, especially not one in such cute packaging. Your yellow sundress was inviting, your pink cheeks even more so and not to mention the wicker basket with baked goods. You looked like the angel of his own personal heaven. 

“I made muffins, they’re lemon blueberry.” You said, pulling the two packaged muffins out of the basket and handing them to him. You were feeling incredibly shy suddenly, even though the man was radiating nothing but a positive energy. “Oh! You said Hongjoong sent you?” Yunho asked, taking the packaging. You nodded at his words and he let out a hearty laugh. “He knows my kryptonite, baked goods.” You couldn’t help but laugh at his words as he took one more step closer to you. 

“I hope you don’t mind my asking, but what are you making?” You asked, gesturing to the pottery wheel. Yunho’s eyes widened at your interest before moving back towards the wheel. “I was asked to make a vase specifically for calla lillies. The design needed to be ‘unique’ according to the client.” He laughed and you took a step closer to look at the clay better. Unique was definitely an accurate description for it, but beautiful none the less. “It’s really pretty.” You said and looked back at him. He was watching your response to his work, finding it endearing how focussed you were on it. 

“I have something for you.” Yunho said quickly, wanting to welcome you to neighborhood properly. He gestured for you to follow him back to the front of the shop as he scanned his shelves for something. “Something for me?” You asked, following him as looked around. “Yes, something for you. To welcome you to the neighborhood.” He said sounding incredibly cheerful which made butterflies fill your stomach.

It was funny how Yunho had taken a few looks at you and instantly had a piece of his in mind to gift you. It just seemed like it suited you, with your bright choice in muffin flavors and the sunny aura that you had radiated to him. It was just an obvious choice to him. 

“There they are.” He said, pulling 2 mugs from the back of a shelf. They were made for a large cup of coffee, with sunflowers molded onto them and painted. They were very pretty and something you most definitely would have picked out for yourself. He quickly shuffled to his counter, wrapping them with paper for protection and placing them in a little bag. Yunho was a little scatterbrained, self admittedly, but it was only natural to get a little extra nervous when there was a pretty girl in front of him. 

“I hope these get put to good use when the café opens.” He said, as he wrote something on a card and slipped it into the bag. You caught a glimpse of his handwriting, noting how messy and cute it was before looking away again. “I’ll definitely put them to good use. I’ll make sure to serve my first cup of coffee in one.” You promised and Yunho could feel his ears burning red. “Good.” He said softly, sliding the bag in your direction. “The shop opens in 2 days, I would enjoy it if you stopped by.” You said softly as you grabbed the bag and placed it in your basket. “I’ll be there for sure.” He said, simply standing and looking at you. You admittedly were doing the same, finding yourself getting absolutely lost in those eyes before tearing yourself away. “I have a few more stops to make-” You started, walking towards the door because you were embarrassed for staring. 

“I really hope you enjoy those muffins.” You finished, placing your hand on the door handle and looking back at him one more time. “I most definitely will.” Yunho smiled, watching you leave his shop before leaning down and pressing his forehead against the counter. He hadn’t had a rush from someone in a long time, you were like a shot of caffeine and he had you on his mind for the rest of the day. 

You had brought around the rest of your muffins before coming back to your shop. It was now late in the afternoon and the had calmed down quite a bit. You had discovered that your new little neighborhood was close, tight knit. Everyone seemed to know eachother and something about that was quite comforting. Wooyoung’s resaurant was incredibly home-y with delicious food (he had forced you to sit down and enjoy some food) and Yeosang’s skate shop was just adorable with a lot of custom boards there and they all seemed to know eachother quite well. It was helping you realise you had chosen the right spot, you needed the support. 

Sitting down at a table, you placed your basket down as well. The whole afternoon you had been curious about what Yunho had written down on the card. It was on your mind the whole time and well so was he. He was quite magnetic, awkward and just very cute, you really couldn’t help it. 

Pulling the mugs from the bag, you unwrapped them carefully so that you can take in the details more. You hadn’t really gotten the chance to before, you were entirely too focussed on something or rather someone else. You held one of the mugs in your hand, looking it over and running your fingers over the smooth ridges. It was all so incredibly detailed and such a sweet gift. 

You put the mug down and pulled the card from the bag. It was just simple cardstock with no design on it, only his writing and you felt the butterflies bubble back up as you read.

“I thought it was a good day because of the weather, but I guess it was because you were in the neighborhood. I can’t wait to stop by your café when it opens, but I would love it even more if you would go on a date with me, maybe let me teach you how to sculpt. I’ll leave my number for you. 

It was nice meeting you, sunshine.

- Yunho

P.S the mugs are handwash only”

You laughed at the last sentence holding the letter to your chest as you did so. A date with Yunho, it was all so sweet. Not to mention his nickname for you had you swooning. 

Pushing yourself up from the table, you placed the mugs on the counter and put the card by your store’s phone. It was too soon to call right away, but you were definitely going to call. There was no doubt about that, you could feel a connection with him instantly and you couldn’t help but mentally thank Hongjoong for that. 

-

Time had seemingly slipped away from you after that day. You had been incredibly busy the day after, getting everything ready and prepared for your grand opening. Baking what you could, grinding coffee beans and preparing mugs, plates and other items. You weren’t expecting a huge turnout or anything... but it never hurt to be prepared. 

But that coupled with your anxiety for doing well, you seemingly forgot about Yunho’s number that was just waiting to be called by your phone. It was purely accidental that it happened, that it had all slipped your mind. 

But you were quickly reminded of it when he stood in front of you, after you had given one of your first customers their order of coffee and an oatmeal cookie. There he was, standing in front of you at 10 a.m, wearing a lightly striped button down tucked into black jeans. Considerably more dressed up than the last time you had seen him, however this image of him made you think of his number and you panicked. 

“Oh my god Yunho, I forgot to call.” You said, clasping a hand over your mouth in embarrassment. You felt absolutely horrible at the realization however Yunho could only laugh. “It’s alright, it’s alright sunshine. I figured you were busy with the opening and everything so I didn’t take it to heart.” He smiled at you and you pouted. “I feel really bad. What can I do to make it up to you?” You asked, walking around your little counter because from what you could tell, there were no more customers left to serve aside from him in the café. 

Your response was just so cute to him, he didn’t think you owed him anything at all. He gave you his number and it was your choice to call him or not. However he still would have really like that date, especially seeing you again. You were wearing a simple orange, shin length, floral skirt with a black t-shirt tucked into it and an apron fastened around your waist. You were... sunny to him. 

“You don’t have to make it up to me, you don’t owe me anything. But I would still like to know if you would like to go on a date with me?” He asked and you couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief at his question. “Oh and I would love another lemon blueberry muffin. I ate both alarmingly fast the other day.” He added on quickly, laughing as he did so. He didn’t want you to feel pressure, at all. Yunho wanted you to go out with him because you wanted too, not anything else. 

You looked down to the ground in attempts to hide the blush on your cheeks, before pulling yourself together and finally looking up into his eyes. “I can definitely do a date and I can also definitely do a muffin.” You said and quickly disappeared behind your counter again. Yunho watched with adoration as you did, incredibly happy but trying to keep things cool. 

“Here is your muffin... would you like anything else?” You asked, handing him the packaged treat and his fingers grazed yours. “No, I got what I came for.” Yunho said and reached for his wallet. “No, it’s on the house.” You stopped him and he looked at you, opening his mouth to  say something. “I know you said I don’t owe you anything but, just take it. For my own sake.” You explained and he bit down on his lip to keep his smile to a minimum. “Thank you.” He said softly, back away from the counter because how much he was beaming. 

“Call me to set up the date tonight? Okay?” He said, now leaning in the open door of the café. “I will. I definitely will this time.” You said and he nodded, walking away and letting himself smile fully. 

Your first day was incredibly good, a total of almost 50 customers which really wasn’t much but still good and a date settled with an absolutely beautiful man. It was just a good day, you smelled like coffee when you got home and there was nothing better than that. Life was coming together. 

-

He had set things up in such a specific way, he wanted this to be perfect. Something about you drew Yunho in so much, he didn’t want to mess this date up at all. It meant a lot to him. 

So when you showed up to his store again, ready for your date, he had his heart in his throat. He had told you to wear something you wouldn’t mind that got dirty and well you listened, showing up in overall you deemed your “paint overalls” the ones you would wear while painting your house and some beat up Converse sneakers. Yunho was wearing the same clothes from the day you had first met and waiting inside his store when you appeared at the door. 

“You look very cute.” Yunho commented, the second you entered the building and your cheeks flushed red. “I’m used to people starting conversations by saying hello.” You said, leaning onto the counter he was stood behind. He mimiced your actions, face getting closer to yours. “Hello. You look very cute.” He teased and you looked down to avoid his gaze with a soft smile. “Anyways, what are we doing today?” You asked, standing back up fully and slipping your hands into your pockets. 

“Well, do you need anything else for your shop?” Yunho asked and you took a moment to think. “I was thinking about stopping by for some small, single flower vases. To see if you even had anything like that. Why?” You asked and he pushed himself off the counter. 

Now if you had said no, he would have sat you down to make something random just to have fun. But now he was going to give you something you could absolutely make use of and hopefully something to remind you of him. 

“I figured I could teach how to make them, something you want exactly.” Yunho said, scratching the back of his head because he was now completely questioning his own idea. “Oh!!! I would absolutely love that!” You said, needing to contain your excitement. Something about a date like this really touched your heart and even if this wouldn’t go anywhere, you know you would remember it for the rest of your life. 

He let out a sigh of relief before leading you to his studio, where he had set up a picnic blanket on the floor next to the large windows with a basket filled with treats. You couldn’t help but place your hand on your chest, your heart pounding because of how sweet he was. 

“Jeong Yunho, I do believe you are a romantic.” You said, gesturing to the blanket and he had to hold back a laugh. “Maybe just a little bit... I just thought we could talk a bit while the clay is in the kiln.” He explained, well rambled more. He was absolutely making your heart melt and there was no doubt about it. 

He sat you down behind the wheel after preparing everything for you, the damp clay sitting on top of the wheel. You looked up at him, questioning what to do because this was completely foreign territory to you. “Start spinning the wheel and wet your hands in that bowl and just start feeling around the clay a bit. Get a feel of what you’re doing.” He said, crouching down by your side. You followed his instructions, under his carefull gaze.

Yunho had guided your hands carefully from next to you, until you had accidentally placed way too much pressure on the clay and denting the form. “Oh, uhh let me see if I can fix that.” Yunho said, seeing how you struggled to get it back the way it was. You stood and he took your seat, his height when sitting coming up to your shoulders. He was mesmerizing to watch as he sculpted, eyes focussed on the wheel and lips kind of pursed. He was just so pretty. 

“I think I get it.” You said and he looked at you in confusion. “This suits you, sitting here behind the pottery wheel, working with your hands. It really suits you. You’re completely in your element. It’s really beautiful to see.” You explained further and he allowed the wheel to slow down, to look up at you. 

You didn’t even realise how close you were until you felt his breath fan over your lips and you suddenly felt excitement in your chest. So you made a split second decision, you made a judgement call. 

Leaning forward, you pressed a quick kiss to his very soft looking, plump lips. Yunho was caught off guard, not having expected that at all but not complaining either. In the few hours you had maybe spent together, there was something completely undeniable there. 

Now admittedly, the kiss was too long for it to be a peck and that was because Yunho could’ve sworn he tasted strawberry on your lips. It left him wanting more, so he deepened the kiss and for a moment you forgot your hands were covered in wet clay. You cupped his face, only for him to laugh against your lips and you realised your mistake. 

“Oh my God, I am so sorry.” You said, pulling away and looking at your hand prints on his cheeks. Yunho couldn’t stop laughing, maybe because of how ridiculously funny the situation was or maybe because of the pure joy he was feeling. “I got too caught up - I- I- completely forgot my hands were-.” You explained in frustration, really wanting to cover your face in embarrassment but deciding against it with better judgement. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay. Can you just maybe wash your hands and then hand me that washcloth by the sink?” He asked and you did as told quickly bringing him the damp cloth to help him get your marks off of him. His cheeks and ears were flushed the whole time as you did so, eyes following your movements and reading the concern on your face. “It’s really okay.” Yunho laughed, comforting you a little more but you couldn’t help but stay embarrassed. “It’s definitely a story to tell. Not my best first kiss admittedly.” You said and pushed your hair out of your face, not your brightest moment most definitely. 

“I mean, I could act like it didn’t happen. Or we could just have a do over?” Yunho suggested, placing the cloth down on the counter and looking at you with a cheeky smile. He just wanted to make sure it was really strawberry he was tasting on your lips. “A do-over?” You asked, crossing your arms and looking up at him. 

His hands came up to your waist, pulling you a tad closer by the belt loops of your overalls before leaning down to your level again. You cupped his face, allowing your thumbs to run over the smooth skin of his cheeks and smilled to yourself. “Oh sunshine, you’re just the cutest.” He said softly and closed the space inbetween you too. This was it, this was what it was supposed to feel like. Butterflies flying around your stomach and your heart pounding in your chest because of how badly you wanted to kiss someone. This was right. 

Your hands moved from his cheeks to his hair as he deepened the kiss, tasting that sweet strawberry flavor again and making a mental note to ask you about it later. His hands held your waist gently, not moving in any way in fear of overstepping his boundaries. 

Pulling away again, this time with a considerable less amount of embarrassment, you placed your hands on his chest gently. “You see, that’s what I was trying to do.” You said softly, toying with the fabric of his shirt. “I figured.” He said in response, letting eachother go in the process. “Your lips taste like strawberries, as if you couldn’t get any more sweet.” Yunho commented, just looking at you with mild disbelief as you sat behind the pottery wheel again. You knew exactly why you tasted that way, you were experimenting with strawberry creme for on top of cupcakes and had to taste test it.

“Come by the café some more and I’ll show you why.” You smiled cheekily and started to spin the wheel again, wanting to finish your vase. “Hmm, sounds good. It sounds like another date.” 

- 

“That’ll be 7.50.” You said cheerily before going to pour her coffee and grab her 2 slices of coffee cake. You handed her, her items and waved her out of the store before letting out a sigh. There was a dip in how busy it was and you had a moment to relax. 

“I just noticed that your customer service voice is the same as your regular voice.” Hongjoong said from the table closest to your counter. He had been coming in on his breaks to hang out and talk and well this was one of those times. “Is it? I never noticed.” You asked with a raised brow, Hongjoong shook his head at you. “I can’t believe your just genuinely that sweet.” He commented and went back to looking on his phone. 

“Of course Y/N’s that sweet.” Yunho’s voice came in from behind you, knowing he came in through the back. His hands moved to your hips from behind and rested his head on your shoulder. “They even smell cake 90% of the time.” He added on before kissing your cheek. This earned a blush from you and a sigh coupled with an eyeroll from Hongjoong. 

“Disgustingly cute.” Hongjoong grumbled, standing from his seat and grabbing his coffee. “I’ll be taking this to go.” He added, leaving your cafe to give you both a shred of privacy. 

Laughing, you turned around in Yunho’s arm and wrapped your arms around his neck. “Hi.” You said softly, toying with the hairs on the back of his neck. A few months in and you were incredibly close, ridiculously in love. The whole neighborhood knew, the whole neighborhood thought it was disgustingly cute and well you were incredibly happy. 

“Hi.”  He said back, leaning you backwards to press you against your counter. He had been missing you all day, all week more like. With the school breaks on top of general vacation days, business had been going quite well. But that also meant a little less time together. Which was alright, that was healthy but God Yunho was missing you. 

He kissed your cheek, moving his lips over your skin lightly to pay you some special attention because there was no one in the cafe anyways and there was just something about getting you so flustered. 

“What’s gotten into you?” You asked, taking a deep breath as his lips moved over your neck and down to the neckline of your dress. “When can I get you alone for more than 5 minutes?” Yunho asked, pulling his lips away from you again. He could tell you were breathing a little heavier and your cheeks were flushed, exactly what he wanted. 

“I think I have more than 5 minutes of alone time after work.” You explained, only for his lips to find the base of your neck again. His hands were now massaging your sides, bunching up your dress slightly when the bell of your door rang. 

“I forgot my phone and I’m glad I saw this so that I can leave a bad review on yelp.” Hongjoong said and you both pulled away from eachother quite quickly. “Come by the shop after you close up okay sunshine?” Yunho said, trying to hide his embarrassment as Hongjoong gave him a dirty look.

“I will.” You said, quickly pecking his lips one more time before he exited your shop. You were a total shade of pink because of the way Hongjoong was looking at you. “Don’t say anything.” You said, pointing your finger in his direction the second Yunho left. He started laughing, grabbing his phone from the table. “You two are so in love it’s disgusting. Get married already, have coffee filled, artsy babies.” He teased and you shook your head. “It seems like you two were half way there already, wonder what would’ve happened if I didn’t walk in.” He added and you turned away, suddenly feeling the need to keep your hands busy. 

“Probably nothing, we haven’t gone that far. Doubt it would’ve happened in broad daylight, in an open café.” You said, now wiping down a fully clean counter to get out of your own mind. You wanted to take that next step with Yunho and he seemingly wanted to take that step too. 

So you made your way over to his shop after closing, checking the way you looked in the reflection on the windows before entering. You weren’t nervous, at all actually. Everything felt certain with him and so did this. You instantly walked to studio portion of his shop, anticipation in your chest as you pushed the door open. 

“Hey you closed early.” Yunho said as he cleaned his counter by the sink. “I did. Thought maybe we could stretch those 5 minutes into a few hours.” You said softly, walking behind him to hug him from behind. You missed him the last few days too, you were definitely realising it while holding him. “You can’t just kiss me like that in the middle of the day and leave.” You mumbled against him as his hands found your, drawing shapes into your skin with his fingers. 

“Sorry about the inconvenience.” He chuckled and pulled you to stand in front of him, wedging you between him and the counter. “Big inconvenience. I’ve been thinking about you all day.” You leaned back onto the counter as Yunho took a step forward. His thigh, wedging between your legs as he did so. He was completely hovering over you, hands finding purchase on your hips. “Maybe that’s what I wanted.” His voice was a tone lower than normal, making your tongue dart out to wet your lips. 

You grabbed the back of his neck, pulling him close because you really couldn’t wait much longer and kissed him. Yunho loved it when he brought you to that point because he found it oh so endearing when you needed him so badly. 

Using his hands, he lifted you up onto the counter fully making your dress bunch up slightly. His hands moved down to the newly exposed flesh of your thighs as his tongue slipped into your mouth. This, this was what drove him insane because everytime he kissed your lips you tasted so sweet. 

You tugged his hair as his grip on you tightened, making him groan against your lips. “How do you do it, you always taste so sweet?” He asked with his forehead pressed against yours. You leaned forward a little, making your core come into contact with his denim clad thigh and you whimpered before answering him. “That’s for me to know and you to be amazed by.” Shaking his head at your answer, he pressed his lips to yours again absolutely not caring if it was sloppy or not. 

He continued to pull your hips down, making your core rub over his thigh and you couldn’t help but pull his hair harshly. This made him nip down on your bottom lip before moving his hands to hike up the skirt of your dress. He was absolutely obsessed with how soft your skin was in his hands every new inch that was revealed, didn’t disappoint. 

Moving his lips down your neck again, he made sure to nip down on your skin and making you gasp. Yunho was going with intent to leave marks, there was just something that made him compelled to do so. His hands moved to your waist to drag you closer to edge of the counter and closer to him. His fingertips finding the hem of your panties to toy with them, making heat pool between your legs even more. 

His mouth stopped at the neckline of your dress, before he looked up at you. “Can I take this off?” He asked, tugging on your dress slightly. The little question making heat rise to your cheeks. “Yes, you can.” You answered softly, helping him lift the fabric off of your body. You were about to throw your dress to the side when took it from you, folding it before laying it down gently on a chair. You sat, kicking your legs slightly as you watched him because the action made your heart flutter. 

“Don’t want your dress to get dirty.” He said, turning back around to look at you. He could feel his heart stop a moment, you were incredibly just so incredibly beautiful to him. The dim lit room, coupled with your slightly swollen lips, pink cheeks and the fact that you were sitting there in nothing but your underwear, it was driving him insane. 

“God you look...” Yunho started, walking back to you to wrap his arms around your bare waist. You curled his hair between your fingers, looking him the eyes. “Absolutely beautiful.” His eyes sparkled as he spoke, making your whole body fill with warmth as he looked at you. You wrapped your legs around him, to pull him even closer to you. “I’m feeling a little self conscious here. Can you maybe?” You didn’t finish your sentence, just tugging on his shirt in hopes he’d get the message. He pulled it off of him and simply threw it on the ground, not giving it the same care he gave your dress. “I don’t care if that gets dirty.” He said before kissing your lips quickly and sinking down to his knees. 

Eye level with your core, he traced his fingers over your clothed slit slowly, looking at you to see your response. Your eyes were shut up and your lips were agape, body tensing as his finger grazed your clit. That was enough for him to hook his fingers into the lace, tugging your panties down your legs. You brought your hand to your face, taking your thumb between your teeth as Yunho pulled your legs over his shoulders. 

He feathered kisses over your thighs, squeezing them as he did so and inching closer and closer to where you needed him. “You’re going to tease me when I’ve already been thinking about you all day?” You asked, voice muffled by your own hand. He looked up at you again, eyes darker and blinking at you. “Yes, because it seems to be working.” He answered, dragging his fingers over your slit. “You’re so wet, Sunshine.” He finished, kissing your clit lightly and your hips bucked for more friction. 

He looked up at you one more time, taking a mental image of you with your finger caught between your teeth just staring at him before kissing you again. Allowing his tongue to move over your folds and tasting you. You attempted to clamp your legs shut at the sensation only for him to hold them open, not allowing you to go anywhere as he ate you out. Lips wrapping around your clit and making you moan out loud. Your hand moved to grip his hair, just wanting him even closer to you because fuck... he was making you feel so good. 

“Yunho-” You moaned, making his fingertips dig further into your thighs. “Sunshine, you even taste sweet.” He commented, kissing your thighs again as you tugged on his hair for more. “Baby please don’t stop.” You begged, nearly pouting as you did so because you were oh so close to cumming. 

He stood back up, face now level with yours again and you whined. “Relax.” He said softly, hand trailing down your body before cupping your core. His finger teased your hole while the other hand cupped your face, slipping a finger into and watching every expression as he did so. Yunho thrust his fingers into you harshly as your mouth fell open again. Eyes locked onto Yunho’s as he drew you closer and closer to your orgasm. Your fingers clawed at his arms as the coil in your stomach tightened. “Yunho, please.” You whined, feeling him insert another finger and stretching you out. 

He sped up his pace, feeling you tighten around his fingers and the scratching down his arms get harder. “Come on, cum for me sunshine.” He pressed his forehead against yours as you let out a small scream that faded into a whine. The coil bursting as his fingers continued thrusting into you. Your face burried into his neck as you held onto him, needing something to brace yourself with. 

He watched you slump into his arms, using his hand that was holding your face to now stroke your hair. “You’re alright.”  He cooed, ignoring the uncomfortable feeling of his hardon pressing against his jeans. You kept your face in his neck as your hands moved from his arms down his chest and torso. Trailing down the faint outline of abs as your hands went down, resting on the button of his jeans as you finally looked at him again. 

“I love you.” You said softly, as if it was a secret and you were in a crowded room. Your fingers undid his jeans, not waiting on a response from him. If he wasn’t there yet, he wasn’t there. 

“Hey.” He cupped your face again, making your focus now be solely on him. You hardly gave him time to respond to your confession before you went undo his jeans, he needed you to focus on what he was going to say because he could tell you were scared for his answer. 

“Relax, Sunshine. I love you too.” He said, taking in the way your eyes widened at his words. “I- I- can I?” You stuttered, gesturing to his jeans. “Yes, yes you can.” He laughed, continuing to cup your face as you undid his jeans and dragged the zipper down. He hummed as your fingers grazed his hard on, gripping your face a little tighter making you smile. 

“Now who’s teasing?” He asked you and you giggled, only for him to shake his head. He grabbed your hands and pulled them off of his jeans so that he could pull them down, together with his briefs. “Can’t deal with what you dish out?” You asked and he shook his head, placing his hand next to your hips on the counter. “Not nearly as well.” He admitted and you wrapped your legs around his bare waist to pull him against you. 

His free hand gripped the base of his cock as he rubbed it over your folds. You held the back of his neck, watching his actions before he slipped into you slowly. Your nails dug into his skin, making goosebumps coat his skin as he sheathed himself into you fully. The whimper you let out of was like music to his ears and the way you felt wrapped around him was better than he dreamed of. 

Yunho gave you a moment to adjust before wrapping his arms around your waist and almost picking you up off of the counter. It caught you by surprise making you hold onto him even tighter. “Fuck Yunho.” You hummed, as he started thrusting into you, using the leverage he had gotten from holding you. His pace picked up, fucking into you slowly as your sounds filled his studio. 

“You feel so good, Sunshine.” He praised, a low moan leaving his mouth afterwards as you scratched down his back. He thrusted a bit harder and faster, needing a taste of that sweet release because he too had been thinking about you all day. 

“Right there-” You choked out as he hit your sweet spot, the heels of your feet digging into his thighs. He pressed his face into your neck, placing kisses everywhere he could reach and sucking even more marks into your skin. He continued actions, making you tighten around him very quickly. He let go of your waist to place one of his hands by your side on the counter and the other down to rub your clit, giving him leverage to bring you both to the edge quickly. Your hands moved to his arms, scratching down them as well just adding to the pleasure he was going through. 

“Sunshine, I’m really close.” He moaned out, hips staggering slightly as he continuously rubbed your clit. You pet his hair, drawing his attention back to your face and that was it for him. You looked oh so fucked out and the way you were holding on to him, it was enough to send him over the edge. His hips stopped as he came inside of you, head drooping and beautiful loud moans leaving him as he did so. However, his fingers never stopped circling your clit and threw you over the edge with him. 

He was a mess, moaning at the feeling of you contracting around him and the overstimulation of it. The way you felt holding on to him, stroking his skin as you both calmed down. He was now holding you close against his chest, still resting inside you for a moment as you caught your breaths. 

“I meant it you know, when I said I love you back.” Yunho’s voice was soft spoken as he pet your hair. “I know.” You said as you traced over his arm. “Good, just wanted to make sure you knew I didn’t just say it because we were having sex.” He explained, body leaving yours and making you sigh. 

“I know I definitely didn’t just say it because of that.” You said as he handed you back your underwear. “That’s good.” He smiled at you that goofy smile, eyes filled with love. You shook your head, before grabbing his face gently and pulling him for another quick kiss. You just really wanted him to know that you meant it.  

“Come on, let’s go to my place. Maybe watch a movie, eat dinner, have round 2. All of the options are allowed.” He said laughing before handing you your dress, as you rolled your eyes at his words. 

“Ah Sunshine, I love you to bits.” 

- 

“The back of Yunho’s neck looks like he’s been mauled by a tiger, you wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with that?” Hongjoong asked as he entered Yunho’s shop the next day. He had to run errands and asked you to watch his shop for a moment, so there you were sitting behind his counter and painting a piece of pottery you had helped him make not to long before. 

“I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.” You said, needing to bite on your lips to contain your smile as you continued to paint the clay. “Uh-huh, tell that to those hickies all over your neck.” He commented and you looked at him. “Do you ever spend time in your own store?” You asked in frustration and he started laughing, pointing at you. “I knew it!” He laughed and you shook your head. “Okay, okay. Shut up about it.” You hid your face in your hands, feeling how beat red you were. 

“Fine, fine, I’ll stop teasing.” Hongjoong joked, walking around the shelves of pottery. No one else was in the shop, so the conversation wasn’t entirely inappropriate. “But it was good though? No hiccups, no awkward situations?” He asked and you could only smile at the thought of it all. “No, nothing awkward.” You said and he stood in front of the counter again. 

“I told him I love him for the first time.” You added quickly, simply going back to painting. “Wait, you did? For the first time? It took you both that long?” Admittedly Hongjoong wasn’t wrong, but you had felt love for him a long time ago. There just wasn’t a desire to vocalize it just yet, on either end. “I mean it was obvious that you too loved eachother, I’m just surprised it took you so long to say it.” Hongjoong explained and you nodded. “Yeah, you’re right. But sometimes it’s better to just wait until there’s that moment. That perfect moment to say it.” Last night was most definitely that moment for you. 

The store bell made you both redirect your attention to the door. Only for Yunho to pop his head in and look at you. “I was half way to the store when I realised that I didn’t ask you needed anything.” He said, smiling at you with stars in his eyes. “You could’ve just texted me.” You smiled back as Hongjoong watched the interaction. “I could’ve, but I would rather just walk back and see you instead.” He explained and Hongjoong laughed. 

“You two, you two are something else.” Hongjoong commented and Yunho shook his head. “But you don’t need anything?” He asked and you shook your head. “No, I got all I need.” You said and he nodded before going to leave again. “I love you, Sunshine.” He said quickly, shutting the door behind him. “I love you too.” You said smiling, knowing he couldn’t hear you anymore but still taking the time to do it. Hongjoong rolled his eyes at you and opened his mouth to say something. 

“As disgusting as you two are, how cute you are together makes up for it.” 

A/N: Feedback is kind!

I’m not completely satisfied with the ending but I still like this story alot. Sometimes you just need some happy stories. I hope you guys enjoy!

#yunho #yunho smut #ateez #ateez smut #ateez reactions #ateez reaction

[buckyownsmylife]

Don't Breathe - Chris Evans smut

The one where your best friend and your boyfriend are fucking behind your back.

Warnings: smut, cheating, chris x your best friend, humiliation?, chris is an asshole in this, exhibitionism, the betrayal is real

Word count: 1.3k

A/N: this is sort of a companion piece to breathe, hence the same picture. While that one explores the extremes of loyalty, this one explores the extremes of betrayal. I also couldn't bring myself to create another moodboard. I wrote this story in one sitting, in the last anxiety episode I had and it helped me get to the place I am today - a better place than I was before, so while I'm grateful for it, I'm only publishing this to give myself some closure. I haven't edited it. I haven't asked anyone to beta read it for me because I simply can't look at it anymore. But it might help some of you, and it might even arouse some others (yes, there are people who have cheating kinks. Let's all be grown-ups and accept that sexuality is a complex and difficult thing. I won't accept kinkshaming in this blog). I only ask that you do not ask me about this story, how it came to be or any sort of part two's because I literally can't stand to look at it. Thanks, you guys!

“Bitch really has no idea, huh?” Chris chuckled as he welcomed his mistress on his lap, licking his lip at the sight of the voluptuous body on top of his. He’d been dreaming about it for a while now, imagining it was her he was fucking when she was away and he had to fuck his girlfriend.

“Not a clue.” He was a bastard, he knew it. He was a son of a bitch, a good for nothing. He didn’t deserve to ever be happy again, not after this, but he couldn’t come to regret it. Not when your best friend was rubbing her cunt against his dick so sensuously, tempting him with her full pout and big breasts.

“She’s always been dumb,” she commented, like she wasn’t speaking about the woman she claimed to love more than anything in the world. Maybe that should have worried Chris, but for whatever reason, it just made him harder.

He really wasn’t worth shit.

“Can’t even figure out that every time we disappear at a party, I’m really just sucking your dick.” Chris chuckled as he buried his thumb on her mouth, chuckle turning into a groan as the beautiful woman twirled her tongue around his digit.

“I mean, this was how it started, wasn’t it, baby?” He reminded her. “You ditched her in the middle of the club to meet me in the bathroom and offer some help with the package I’d been hiding in my pants… Didn’t even have the time to doubt it before you were dropping to your knees and crawling towards me.”

The little vixen smirked at the memory, face suddenly lighting up as she let go of my dick to get out of bed. “Hey!” He complained, still smiling because he could see she was up to no good. “Where are you going?”

She had my phone in her hands when she climbed back to bed, a perfectly plucked eyebrow high in her forehead as she typed away in it. He’d never let you learn the password but what could he possibly hide from his mistress?

“Call her.” It wasn’t as much a request as it was a statement, since when she threw the phone on his chest, it was already ringing. A panicked look broke free on his face before he shook his head, smirking at her insanity.

Goddamn it if it didn’t make him harder than he’d ever been before.

“Hello?” Your sweet voice was the perfect dichotomy to the act he was partaking in, and he had to bite his lip so you wouldn’t figure out what was happening as your best friend leaned over his cock to take it in her mouth.

“Hey, honey,” Chris greeted, trying to keep his voice as smooth as possible. He could totally do this. He was an actor, after all.

“Is something wrong?” You questioned, and for a second both him and your friend froze, fearing you’d heard something. “You just left, I figured you wouldn’t call me until tomorrow.”

Chris chuckled lightly at your innocence - and the clear happiness you felt at him deciding to call so soon. He already knew what to say to plunge the knife even deeper into you.

“Oh, you know…” He trailed off, biting his lip again as your best friend swallowed his cock. “Just missed you.” He didn’t miss the smirk on her eyes. She didn’t need to speak or even stop sucking him for him to know that she was enjoying this, so he kept going, entertaining you with mindless conversation until you remembered you actually had to call her.

“Oh, I promised I’d call her… We’ll talk tomorrow, okay?” You assured him, blissfully unaware of the betrayal you were suffering. “Bye, baby. I love you.” You disconnected the call before he could even lie about that too, but a few minutes later her phone began ringing.

She was still giggling when she picked up, now having stopped sucking him to rub her tight wet cunt against him again, teasing them both. “Bitch, you’ll never guess,” she greeted as soon as you said hello, and just as you asked what was up, she lowered herself down on Chris’ cock.

Your man’s cock. While she was talking to you. “I’m fucking someone right at this second.” He could hear your stunned silence, but you knew your friend had always been crazy - especially sexually.

It was the difference between the two of you that made him so obsessed.

“And he doesn’t mind?” You asked, clearly surprised, and Chris almost laughed when your best friend answered, “Oh, no. He gets off on it. Would you mind staying in line and listening for a bit? He’d really enjoy it.”

You hesitated only for a moment before agreeing, and that’s when she allowed herself to moan out loud. “God, what a fucking dick!” She cursed, fingernails gripping his pecks as she rode him for dear life. “I swear to god, you have no idea how it feels like to be fucked like this.”

You remained silent. Chris could almost picture it, the way you had one fingernail in your mouth, chewing on it as you tried to decide between keeping your promise and listening to your best friend fucking (your) man or leaving the phone on and going to do the laundry.

You were such a perfect girlfriend. So devoted, everything Chris should marry. His family loved you - hell, he thought he loved you. And here he was, fucking your best friend while you listened to her moans of pleasure.

He felt her eyes trailing down his body and he already knew what she wanted. They were a perfect match in bed. He manhandled her onto her stomach, knowing you were listening to her surprised scream and loud moan as he penetrated her from behind.

“So, so good…” She moaned. Chris had no doubt her eyes were rolling to the back of her head. “Would you ever stop fucking me, baby?” She teased, making Chris chuckle, knowing the sounds of his hips slapping against her full ass were drowning his voice from you. “Would you ever stop fucking my tight little pussy?”

He leaned over her, body completely enclosing hers in bed when he gripped her jaw to whisper in her ear. “Not a chance in hell.” Her delighted moan made it all worthy to him. He pulled out of her to turn her around once more, spreading her legs so he could have a taste of her pussy.

Eyes connected, he watched her reach for the phone and take it off the speaker so she could talk to you properly. “This guy eats pussy like a pro,” she informed you while Chris grinned between her legs, her fingers tangled in the strands of your boyfriend’s hair. “And he tells me it’s the best pussy he has ever had, don’t you, baby?”

Chris could only nod, obsessed with the taste of her sweet pussy on his tongue, the loud sounds of slurping undoubtedly reaching you. He could only imagine how you were feeling, confused and maybe a little bit aroused. It was like sound porn, after all - and it was starred by your very own boyfriend, but you had no idea.

He hummed against her pussy. You could never taste as sweet, try as you might. Even her painted lips tasted better, and he knew it wasn’t because of the lipstick she wore since you two often shared.

She moaned loudly when he shoved two fingers inside of her, having memorized her sweet spot ages ago, when this still made him feel bad and he’d often hurl when he got home to find you in bed, waiting for him.

And yet, he couldn’t stop. He waited for her to turn off the call so he could climb back up her body, kissing every inch of the way until he was buried deep inside her tight pussy again.

“You make me crazy,” he whispered, knowing this would never be enough. He would never get his fill of her. He might love you in one way or another, but he wanted her, and he would never let her go.

#my fics #chris evans smut #chris evans #smut #tw cheating #tw infidelity #tw betrayal

[hyunjilicious]

would you? [chris evans]

A/n: I literally word vomited this in less than 20 minutes and didn’t proof read it so please be kind lol. Also I haven’t written fluff in ages and I forgot how to do it!

Summary: Chris gets all riled up when you tell him you actually like and would date his character Ransom, from Knives Out. (FLUFF) 1.4k

Warnings: literally none? I think... alcohol if that’s a warning? Oh, and shitty writing. And tons of fluff. Like only fluff. Too much maybe. Really fucking domestic tho. I needed that tonight. 

-

Above anything else, you loved late nights in. Like this one for instance, as it was well past 3am, and both you and Chris were still wide awake. You, in the living room, scrolling through the channels on your rarely used TV, and him, in the kitchen, grabbing glasses, making popcorn and picking the next bottle of wine.

“Baby!” you yelled over your shoulder as you suddenly stopped flicking through the channels and finally settled on one. Chris’s face took up the whole screen as Knives Out was playing, and you couldn’t help but smile.

He didn’t answer.

“Baby!” you called again, this time louder and more determined.

First, you heard a soft clatter and then a deafening bang. “You ok?” you asked, rushing to your feet and sprinting towards the kitchen.

As soon as you opened the door, your eyes landed on Chris. He was sitting on the floor, his back hunched dangerously low.

“Baby, what happened?” you whined, walking over to him. Then you saw it. “Is that my shake for tomorrow?”

Chris looked up, eyes all wide and apologetic as he tried to win you over with his dazzling smile, “I just wanted to taste it”

“You child” you laughed.

“I don’t know why I got so scared when you called me, I fucking dropped it” he confessed, standing up and grabbing a napkin, “You know when we were kids and were doing stuff we weren’t supposed to? That’s the kind of nervousness I was feeling while drinking your shake”

“I thought you were just tasting it?” you pouted.

Chris opened his mouth to respond, but then found himself at a loss for words. “Ok, fine!” he eventually exclaimed, "I don’t know why yours is so much better than mine?”

“That’s because you’ve got no patience to blend properly” you rolled your eyes.

“Oh, I blend!” he argued amused, pointing his finger at you, “It’s not the blending, I tell you”

You sighed, unable to hide your smile. Moving to the side to help carry the snacks to the living room, you spoke to him over your shoulder, “I still don't understand why you won’t let me make it for you”

“Because I’m a grown ass man, Y/n” he huffed, still inside the kitchen, “What kind of dipshit isn’t able to make his own protein shake?”

“You apparently” you laughed and then heard him mock you from the kitchen.

Yes, you loved staying in with him more than anything in the world.

A few minutes later, you had both settled on the couch, scrolling through Netflix in search of a movie worthy of your precious time.

Chris took a sip of wine and then nudged your side, “What did you wanna say earlier?”

“What?”

“When I dropped the shake” he clarified, “You had something to say”

You frowned with confusion for a second and then remembered, “Oh, yeah” you giggled, throwing some popcorn into your mouth, “Just how hot Ransom is, that’s all”

Chris narrowed his eyes, “America’s asshole?”

“The one and only”

“You think he’s hot?” he asked. He seemed to have gotten defensive, offended even.

“Yeah, of course” you said, “How could I not…?”

“He’s a dipshit” 

“Yeah, he is-” you rolled your eyes, turning to look at him, “But it’s your fucking face Chris, how could I possibly not find him hot?”

He sighed, probably thinking there was no way for him to win this, “Ok, but you just like his face and that’s all. He wouldn’t be able to woo you or anything right?”

“I mean-” you giggled.

“Y/n!” Chris exclaimed, “What’s wrong with you? Tell me that if I didn’t exist and Ransom did, you wouldn’t date him”

“I’d date, marry and die by Andrew Barber if he existed” you laughed.

“Answer my question, baby” Chris said, trying his best to sound serious.

“I don’t know what you want me to say” you whined, cuddling into his side. “I like you” you added, looking up into his eyes.

“I like you too, doll” he smiled, gathering you into his arms and nudging your cheek, “That’s why I wanna know you wouldn’t date someone like Ransom”

“You’re the only I wanna date anyway-”

“We talked about this” Chris laughed, kissing your forehead before returning to look into your eyes, “I don’t exist, he does”

“I’d fucking date him, Chris. I think he’d be capable of loving me. And I think there’s a sweetheart hidden in there somewhere. I’m sure he just needs someone to love and care for him, that's all.”

He remained silent. Looked at you as if you had stolen all the words from his tongue. “Ok, but what if you try to express your opinion one time and he dismisses it in an instant and tells you to eat shit?”

“No one does that” you laughed.

“No, no, no!” Chris jumped, tapping your thigh, “Now I’m intrigued, I wanna see, what would you do?”

“Well” you contemplated, “Since the words would be coming out of your face, I’d probably just drop it and try again later”

Chris looked at you dumbfounded, shaking his head in disbelief as he thought of another scenario. “Let’s say you’re getting dressed to go out with some girlfriends and he tells you to stay at home because he’s horny”

“We’re in the middle of a pandemic, Chris” you laughed, proud of yourself for turning this against him, “He’d just be taking care of me. Who knows who my friends came in contact with anyway”

He sighed deeply, furrowing his brows. He tightened his hold around your frame as he thought of something else, his lips pressing soft, random kisses along your hairline.

“What if he’d talk down to you? I’m sure he’d always do that”

“Well-” you smiled, “You talk down to me and call me all sorts of names-”

“OUTSIDE OF SEX, Y/N!”

You stopped to think, “I’m sure he’d mean them with love?”

His eyes widened with exasperation as he grabbed your cheeks into his hands, “Baby, and I mean this in the most sweet and loving way possible, you have problems up here” he said, tapping your temple.

“Oh god” you chuckled and rolled your eyes, ushering his hands away, “Just let a girl love her man, jesus”

“Yes!” Chris yelled, exasperated, “Love me, not fucking Ransom Drysdale what the fuck!” “You are him!” you yelled back.

“No, I’m not! I don’t exist! We were just talking about that spoiled asshole, not me!” “Oh” you pouted, suddenly looking all confused, “Well if you put things like that…”

“Are you serious!?” Chris exclaimed, laughter interrupting his words, “Have we been having this dumb ass conversation for the last 10 minutes only because you have selective attention?”

“Well.. you know, it’s 3 am and I love you so like I got confused and just went with it”

“I love you too, my angel” Chris said, leaning down to kiss you lips, “I don’t know how you managed to finish college with that attention span but -”

“Hey” you laughed, playfully slapping his cheek.

“I’m kidding!” he shook his head, “You’re smart as fuck, that’s why I was worried you’d ever think some like Ransom was worth your time”

After going off on this topic for just a little bit longer, you decided it was actually time to go to sleep. After cleaning up and tidying the living room, Chris picked you up into his arms and started heading towards your bedroom.

“I love you so much” you whined, kissing the side of his neck.

“I love you too, baby” he said, “And I’m sorry I'm starting this again, but I wanna know if I got it right. The only reason you said you’d accept those things was because you thought they were coming from me?”

“Yeah” you yawned, “Why?”

“Cause that’s not ok either” he countered, walking into the bedroom and placing you on the bed.

“Wouldn’t you? Accept those things from me, I mean?”

“Well yeah, but…” Chris said, placing his hands on his hips as he tried to find a way to make the situation sound reasonable. There wasn’t one. “OK, we’re both mentally deranged” he concluded, and hopped into bed next to you, “Let’s just sleep right now and never talk about this again”

“Deal” you laughed, rolling over to lay on his chest.

#chris evans #chris evans imagine #chris evans x reader #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale imagine #chris evans fluff #chris evans blurb

[slugtranslation-hypmic]

Hey slug, thanks for the hard work you and your team do for the fandom!! me and some friends were discussing this and i thought it would be nice to see ur answer to this (only if it doesn't bother u, of course!!): what characters do you think parents would give a big thumbs up if you introduced them as your partner (in terms of personality and traits)? I personally think Hifumi or Ichiro would be the best son-in-law...

What an entertaining question. Believe it or not, I’ve given the matter some thought before for reasons entirely unrelated to this, so presenting: Hypnosis Microphone Men and Whether or Not You Should Bring Them Home to Your Parents.

Since there’s a wide age range among the cast members, assume that the “you” in question is roughly each character’s age.

Ichirou: Absolutely. This man is objectively a dream boat. Runs his own successful business? Check. Respectful to people of all ages? Check. Cooks? Check. Cleans? Check. Good with kids? Check. Take Ichirou and marry him before your parents marry him themselves.

Jirou: As far as high school boyfriends go, Jirou’s not a bad choice. He’s a sweetheart, popular, plays music. Doesn’t do drugs in the school bathroom. Could have better grades, but hey, you can’t win them all. He seems like he’d have you home by 8 pm. You know what? Sure. Why not? You could do worse.

Saburou: Saburou is the kind of middle school boyfriend that your parents openly like and privately dislike. What I mean is that he’s very polite to most elders and super smart, so he’s the kind of kid who is entirely unobjectionable, but he’s also the kind of kid who would try to mansplain your parents’ jobs to them. Worst of all, he would be entirely correct in what he’s saying. Your parents probably want to punch him, but they don’t because assaulting children is illegal, not to mention immoral. They will breathe a collective sigh of relief when he finally breaks up with you so he can focus on studying for the Science Bowl nationals.

Samatoki: I am so torn on this one. On the one hand, he’s every parent’s worst nightmare. He smokes indoors, has an awful temper, and is a fucking gangster, for pete’s sake. Yet he can also be a sweetheart who cooks for you and does everything to treat you right. I’m really stumped. Probably the best solution, if you’re really wanting to get in on that Aohitsugi ass, is to cut out the middle man and date Nemu instead. She is perfect in every way, so your parents will love her.

Juuto: If your parents watch Antiques Roadshow, then he will have a lot to bond with them about. Otherwise I think he’d be that kind of person who tells stories about himself way too loudly at family dinners, and after he leaves, one of your parents pulls you aside to say, “Your boyfriend’s really kind of an asshole, don’t you think?” I guess date him if you’re okay with your parents thinking you have cruddy taste.

Riou: I feel like the hard part here is luring him out of the woods and into a family dinner, but from there, it should go great. He’s over 6 feet tall. He can cook well. He has a strong sense of purpose and knows what he wants to do in life. Most importantly, he has a wonderful heart AND every survival skill known to man. He will change the oil in your parents’ car, fix the leaky pipe you’ve been meaning to get around to for six months now, clean the hood above the stove, and then swap recipes and heartfelt compliments with whichever parent does the cooking. Who cares if he doesn’t have a stable income? You don’t need that with guns like those. (insert flexing Riou image here)

Ramuda: I’m trying to think about the concept of a) dating Ramuda and b) introducing him to a set of parents, and I’m drawing an utter blank. There is nothing but “???” in my mind. I’m going to hazard a guess that this one would be a terrible idea.

Gentarou: Wow, your parents had no idea you were dating a prince of a tiny little kingdom in the Mediterranean AND a Harvard law graduate AND the winner of the Nobel Peace Prize AND the man who discovered a cure for cancer in an expedition deep into the heart of the Amazon rain forest. Look at you! What a catch. Only attempt this if your parents are gullible.

Dice: As much as I love Dice to death, this one is a no. Your parents do not want you dating a homeless man with a gambling addiction and bad table manners. Plus, the MIL here seems hard to get along with. Nuh-uh.

Jakurai: Absolutely. You’re in your 30s, so your parents are at least middle-aged. Probably they have some joint problems or some back pain. Jakurai can let them kiss that pain goodbye, and in return, they can let him kiss you! A win-win. He also boasts a handsome salary, has a lovely house, and seems like he’d be super respectful in a relationship. Yes. Go. Marry him.

Hifumi: If you’re a girl, you’re probably going to have to sit this round out. If you’re a guy or nonbinary... yeah, you’re probably going to have to sit this round out too. See, if you have a mom, how is Hifumi supposed to meet her? I guess you could... idk... stick a lampshade on her head and expect him not to notice. That could potentially work, but it’d raise a few awkward questions. If you do happen to live in a female-free household, though, you’ve hit upon the golden opportunity to make this man yours. You can replace every instance of the word “wife” in Judy Brady Syfer’s famous essay “I Want a Wife” with the word “Hifumi” and still have it make perfect sense, and it shows.

Doppo: I can’t in good conscience recommend this one. Sure, he’s hardworking and certainly polite enough, but does he have the time to respond to your emotional needs? Hell, does he have the time to respond to his own? If you invited him to family dinner, there’s a good chance that he’d need to work overtime and miss it. He’d apologize and buy you flowers to make up for it, but you know he’d also be worrying about the cost of those flowers, so... is it really worth it?

Kuukou: For some reason, my parents actually like Kuukou (although I think he’s also the only character they know besides Ichijiku), but I don’t think this would hold true for most parents. He sounds good on paper, but he’d probably make a disparaging comment about someone’s ass in the first five minutes. Perhaps if you tape his mouth shut and tell your parents he’s doing a vow of silence, then yes.

Juushi: As far as high school (is he still in high school?) boyfriends go, Juushi’s not that bad either. He’s shy but sweet. Respectful. In a band, but the kind that makes money and doesn’t operate out of someone’s garage. Yeah, you know what? Go for it. You could do worse. Just scroll up on this list if you need proof of that.

Hitoya: Yeah, absolutely. Hitoya has a great career and a fantastic attitude. He doesn’t take shit from anyone but can still be polite in the correct contexts. He also seems like the type who would get into a serious relationship and treat his partner right. Fuck it up. I support your love.

Sasara: Yes. He has the exact type of humor favored by parents of the father variety. Plus, he’s a famous comedian. There is good money to be had right there.

Roshou: Absolutely. Rather shy but very talented, hardworking teacher who obviously puts his heart and soul into his job? Of course. As long as he doesn’t death glare your parents, it will work out fantastically. Plus, he can talk about sports! That’s a thing that parents like, right?

Rei: Absolutely not. You remember last May when your parents answered a call from the IRS telling them they were about to lose all their money unless they gave the nice man on the phone their bank account password right at that very instant? He was the nice man on the phone. Why the hell would you bring this threat into your parents’ home? Look, you’re in your mid-40s. Your parents are getting up in years, and they want to see you settle down and be happy with someone. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but this is not it. Why are you with Rei in the first place? Is it the fur coat? Listen, you are a grown-ass adult, and you can buy yourself as many fur coats as you want. I believe in you. It doesn’t have to be this way - you deserve better.

#not a translation #asks