#It is weird to me that I tend toward men more in kink thoughts but I generally find women much more attractive
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I have apparently forgotten how to draw but here’s an attempt at Tulip
#tulip t#mart#Preg#fpreg#tfpreg#preg kink#as one of like 2 people with transfem preg characters i feel like it is my sworn duty to draw them#Also I love tulip she’s pretty#It is weird to me that I tend toward men more in kink thoughts but I generally find women much more attractive#Like. Have you seen women.#shoutout to women for real
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Fantasizing about having a cis boyfriend who talks me into kinkier and kinkier sex, secretly laying the foundations to start detransitioning me. When I realize, im scared, and I go to a friend to talk about my worries. He's trans like me, and agrees that it might be something to keep an eye on, but give him another chance - maybe it has an innocent explanation, and he's not trying to detrans me. Maybe im projecting my own kinks - when's the last time I had sex that wasn't catered to a cis penis? He convinces me to have sex with him, casually, as friends, we've known each other a long time and used to mess around sometimes before I met my boyfriend. It feels so good, but the whole time I feel guilty - what if my boyfriend sees it as cheating? We haven't talked about exclusiveness, and I tend to lean towards polyamory, but if he's monogamous I wouldn't want to do this behind his back. So the moment I come home to him, I break down and confess tearfully.
He listens gravely, and carefully keeps his expression neutral, but I can tell he's hurt. He asks who it was with, and I tell him - he knows my friends. "Oh!" he says. "That's fine, babydoll. Well, I mean- I would have preferred we talked about it before, so I'm honestly still a little hurt, sweetheart... but I don't have an issue with you, uh, having sex or whatever with other people, as long as it's not another real- I mean cis man." I eagerly agree to his boundaries, and reassure him that I've never been into other cis men and he's the exception, the love of my life. I easily ignore his awkward wording - he's not as familiar with queer terminology and talking about sex can be a little weird to put into words anyway.
What he's carefully avoiding scaring me off with is his true opinion that he's slowly going to acclimate me to, which is that queer "sex" doesn't count without a cis man's penis. It's not cheating if it's two transmen, because that's just lesbian sex and there's no real man claiming his property. He thinks it's cute when I call ftm4mtf "straight sex" as if I'm a boy, because he knows my tgirl friend is still penetrating my needy submissive pussy. And eventually, I start to question my gender, especially in the bedroom. My boyfriend is always so much more affectionate and into it when he's feeling up my curvy body, and he loves when I act like a girl. I tentatively break the subject with my ftm friend who I talked to at first, and he's very accepting of my "gender weirdness", and respects my request to be treated like a girl in the bedroom, and then anywhere private, and then in public. We spend a lot of time together, talking about sex and kinks, and he's naturally empathetic and seems really touched when I talk about how good it feels to be a good girl for a real man. I'm barely aware of how convincing I'm being, because I don't know the sappy playlists my boyfriend makes me are full of subconscious conditioning and affirmations behind the music - good girls make more good girls. I'm a good girl. Good girls need cock in their cunts. My needy cunt makes me a girl. Brains are for boys and my thoughts are just noise. Good girls make more good girls.
Eventually my boyfriend is my husband, I'm his favorite submissive housewife, and all my old "trans" and "lesbian" friends are playthings for his entertainment. We love having lesbian sex and putting on a show to earn his cum, and I dont remember any reality other than this, or any reason I wouldn't want to be right where I am.
#elle post#dumb puppy#fakeboy#ftm girl#ftm bimbo#ftmtf kink#queer nsft#lgetsd#hypnosub#covert hypnosis#hypnoslut#fantasy detransition#t4t detrans#misgendering k!nk blog#gender play#orientationplay#genderplay#mind corruption
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Enstars Tickle Hcs (Part 13)
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Knights:
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Tsukasa Suou:
He's never the lee, always the ler. He doesn't mind this though, bc he's never been too kin on being tickled. He loves tickling Kohaku, them being distant cousins. At this point, who doesn't wanna tickle the lovable pink haired man. U'd think Kohaku will learn his lesson, but noooooo, he's still messing w/ Tsukasa on the daily even if Kohaku rlly hates being tickled. Tsukasa has a big fear of bugs, and Kohaku being Kohaku, put a fake spider (dk if that classfies as a bug) in his bed, under the blankets, and that night ended w/ Kohaku being ganged up on by his two older sisters and a revengeful ler tickling his worst spot. Tsukasa tends to ask for help tickling ppl, bc the more ppl tickling someone, the louder and more tense of a struggle they'll be. Just bc he's never the lee doesn't mean he's not ticklish, he's just rlly skilled at not being tickled. And he hates being tickled too, he once got tickled by his parents a lot, and since they would constantly do it infront of Kohaku, making it more embarrassing even if the pink haired man gets flustered by tickling, he js got self conscious abt it and started hating it. His death spot is his neck, and his laugh is v chilled and breathy.
Leo Tsukinaga:
O.m.g! Tell me this face doesn't look like someone who's ticklish, bc... he isn't. YOU GOT THAT RIGHT!!! He was never ticklish when he was born, giving his parents this sour look everytime they tried tickling him. He does have a little sister who he doesn't tickle at all, bc like most ppl, his prefrences towards tickling ppl are men, they just look so fucking adorable when they act all tough, but gets taken down by a little tickling. Even the boys who acts petite and shy, like PLS!!! Honestly, same boo. He didn't realize that he had a prefrence, more so, is fond of the idea 'tickling' until he saw his little sister tickling one of her friends at his house and then he thought 'Damn, can't u girls get a room', but once he saw one of his bestfriends, Arashi, tickling his other bestfriend, Izumi, he found himself fixated on the scene and couldn't keep his eyes off of them. He thought it was weird to like tickling men, like a gross pervert, but he found out by one of his closets friend he could trust, that everyone has their kinks and fetishes. And if he likes seeing men being tickled, he shouldn't be kink shamed for it. That being said, he usually goes after his teamates, just bc he's closest to them and he loves hearing them laugh.
Arashi Narukami:
Just found out this character is trans and goes by she/her, so if u haven't seen this character yet (like me) that's y I'm using those pronouns. She's really ticklish, but not extremely ticklish, like she's the third ticklish one on her team. She likes being tickled because she thinks the word 'tickle' is really cute, and she loves seeing her teammates so sensitive abt it (like ticklish). She will make it her mission to tickle all of her friends at least once a day, the ones who's ticklish that is. She started tickling Ritsu just bc in her POV, he's this cute innocent bean, who needs some love and tickles. She doesn't understand that most ppl, if not some, actually has a phobia of being tickled(?) Not sure if that's actually a phobia, but later on after tickling one of her teamates (not spoiling) She became more aware of that fact and started asking before hand, ofc this doesn't stop her tickling any body else that's apart of her band, bc they didn't act the way this said person acted, and she still has ler moods so might've well tickle the others. Even if they hate being tickled it doesn't by pass what happened that day w/ a certain someone. Anyways, her being a lee... She's rlly ticklish on her knees, and her giggles are v feminine while her laughs are v masculine.
Izumi Sena:
He didn't grow up w/ any siblings to tickle or get tickled from, which is a bonus. Though, he does get tickled by his parents which he hates svm.
"Ugh, y is it so hot outside! I hate the summer sm!!!" Izumi complained, in the living room w/ his mom cleaing dishes, and his dad sweeping the floor.
"Oh, come on dear, it's a beautiful day outside, you should go play w/ ur friends." His mom suggested.
"As if."
"Ur mom's right son."
"Nty, I rather chill back in the AC, watch my favorite K-drama, eating my favorite food, and drinking my favorite drink." Izumi laid back, putting his legs on the couch so his dad can vaccum the carpet.
"Yk, if u stay inside all summer, would u mind helping ur mother w/ the kitchen?"
Just the thought of doing chores, ruined the vibe for Izumi, so he decided to make up an obvious lie, but he thought he was in the clear when saying this. "I... Um... hurt my foot earlier, when I tripped on the stairs."
"You did, huh?" His dad grew suspicion, while his mom was thinking to herself 'Izumi...'
"Yh."
"Alr, maybe we should get it looked at," His dad grabbed his foot, w/ Izumi obviously fighting back.
"No, dad!"
"What? U said u were fine... so this won't hurt one bit." His dad said, pressing his thumb into the pressure point on the sole of his foot, and w/o it hurting, it oddly tickled rlly bad.
"GaH- Dad... c-cut it oUHT!" Izumi screamed when his dad pressed more firmly on the pressure point w/ his thumb, making a half circle, like moving it(?) Hard to explain.
"What? Does it hurt?"
"N-Nohoho... it juhuhust... UGH! Nehehehevermind abt myhyhyhy foot, I was johohohoking, and I can... can help w/ t-the dishes." Izumi giggled, while trying not to bc he knows for a fact that his dad would tickle him like always.
"Does it tickle? Will it tickle if I do... THIS?!" His dad exclaimed, while taking the said foot into a headlock scribbling on his sole.
"NO! DHAHAHHAD!!! STAHAHHAP!!! PLEASE!" Izumi started kicking widly and pushing his dad's shoulder w/ his other foor, while he's pounding the couch w/ his fist, and his head thrown back, bc he was imobile in the position he was in.
"Oh, ur other foot wants attention, I see." He grabbed Izumi's other foot into a headlock, imobilizing both of his ankles so he can tickle both feet.
"MOHOHOHOM!! HEHEHEHHELP ME! DAD! DOHHOHOHOHN'T!!! STAHAHHAHAHAAP!"
"Dw, sport. I wasn't planning on it."
Izumi rlly hates being tickled and teased, but this doesn't stop Arishi from tickling him. He loves tickling other ppl tho, just for shits and giggles. Ofc, if he feels like ur uncomfortable abt the situation he'll stop, but before he starts, he'll give u a safeword to use in case u want the tickles but hv a time limit on how long u can stand being tickled. He's just a lovable sport who likes being the ler and not the lee!!! He is the second ticklish person on his team, and he usually gets targeted for being that sensitive. He hates Arishi always tickling him everyday. His worst spot is his feet, especially the pressure point on his sole. Like kneading it, will make him combust w/ silent laughter and breathy giggles. And his laugh is very breathy and can be pitchy at times.
Ritsu Sakuma:
This is said person who I was talking abt on Airishi's hc. He absolutely hates being tickled, more like scared of it.
"Guys!!! please help me!" Ritsu ran and hid behind Leo, while he was shaking and out of breath.
"What's wrong Ritsu?" Leo asked.
"She's trying to tickle me..." Ritsu was on the verge of tears, just thinking abt being subdue to her evil fingers.
Airishi came at lightning speed around the corner, "Where is he?!"
'Oh no.'
"What's going on?" Leo asked.
"Please... Make her s-stop Leo."
"Oh, come on, Ritsu. U really gonna hide behind the only one WHO ISN'T FUCKING TICKLISH IN THIS ROOM RN?! That's so unfair... I tickled Tsukasa 3 hours ago, I tickled Izumi 2 hours ago, Leo isn't even ticklish, now it's just u left. We've been playing cat and mouse for an hour now, it's time to come out and play, so u can feel the evil wrath of my tickle torture. And since u decided u wanted to play chase, I wasn't gonna go easy on u~"
"Leo... please... help me out."
How much Leo loves seeing men being tickled especially Ritsu, he decided that the black haired man also has boundaries that he wants ppl to respect, so he decided to talk to the latter who wants to tickle him, "Hey, Airishi? Don't u think ur coming off too strong? Look at Ritsu. He doesn't look like he wants to be tickled.
"Oh, come on, just one more time..." Arishi slowly walked over to the black haired man w/ wriggling fingers.
"NO! Le-Leo... pl... *Sniffle* knock it- o-ff, Airishi! I... do-don't wanna be tickled." Ritsu had Leo in a back hug, breaking down, while he smothered his face into the back of his hoodie.
This shocked everyone bc they never heard Ritsu cry before, so this may rlly be unsettling for him.
"Omg, r u that scared of being tickled?" Airishi had gen/ concern and sorry to her tone. "Umm, I'm rlly sry for making u cry, Ritsu. Maybe u can tickle me as punishment?"
"No..."
"Wdym, no? It's a suitable punishment for her?" Leo rubbed Ritsu's back soothingly and comfortable.
"JUST NO!" Ristu screamed, "He... likes being tickled, so it's not really a punishment. I... Idrfc at this point *sinffles* I'm just gonna go back to my dorm room, and hang out there for a bit. I'm sry for lashing out on u guys, and sry for showing this sensitive side to me." Ritsu let go of Leo and had his head down walking out of the room so the other four members wouldn't see his red, bloated face.
Yh, Ritsu has an older brother who tickles him a lot, but somehow, for some reason, he doesn't act the way other ppl tickle him. Ofc he hates it, but he doesn't cry before being tickled, he just begs, pleas, and tries to push the offending hand away from him. Ig since they're family he knows that Rei wouldn't go overboard w/ it, but still, he doesn't like the fact he keeps getting tickled just because he's the most ticklish on his team and his brother's team. He's not scared to get revenge w/ a little bit of help though. He only tickles ppl if they tried or had tickle him for punishment, but only if u hate it bc it's not rlly a punishment if u enjoy being tickled. He can't get anyone by himself though bc he's most likely weaker than the lee, so if he sees a fight break out, mostly when his brother is being tickled, he would yell ur worst spot out, just for laughs and giggles. His worst spot is his inner thighs, and even if Rei hates tickling ppl who is rlly loud while laughing, he doesn't tickle Ritsu's worst spot. Anywhere else but that. Please.
#lee#ticklish#anime tickle#anime#ler#tickle#tickle headcanons#ensemble stars#ensemble stars tickle#ensemble stars hcs#Knights#Tsukasa Suou#Ticklish Tsukasa#leo tsukinaga#Ler! Leo#Arashi Narukami#Tickish Arashi#Izumi Sena#Ticklish Izumi#Ritsu Sakuma#Ticklish Ritsu
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Best of r/BallbustingStories
Maddy's Lesson in Male Inferiority, Chapter 2: New Pupil, parts 1-2
The first chapter detailed how Maddy had ball-beaten her boyfriend Jordan into subservience, taught him to fear and obey her, shown and convinced him that his testicular vulnerability means that opposing her is fruitless. Unlike most stories of that theme, Jordan does not, in the end, feel resentful or dispirited, but rather comes to enjoy his role, probably by way of a conditioning kink on the part of the author.
The second chapter tells of another couple, Diane and Dylan, coming over to Maddy and Jordan’s Maddy’s home. Maddy teaches Diane how to dominate and control Dylan
I’ll just talk about some things that stood out to me.
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The episode starts by explaining how Jordan has become more respectful of women in his life even outside the relationship due to his position inside his relationship. This is not a rare causality in these stories. (Hell, I’ve heard it seriously claimed as a benefit of FLRs.)
His entire perception and his treatment of his female colleagues changed. For one, he literally just noticed them more. Whereas before, he'd either dismiss them unconsciously, or even purposely block them out in the case of his attractive coworkers. He'd previously thought it was the reasonable thing to do since he was in a relationship, but now he saw that it was this exclusively sexual lens […] that was the reason he saw them so differently.
Why doesn’t the story start Jordan off as the kind of crude, boastful, explicit misogynist that most stories of this theme do (including this one with Dylan, as you’ll see later)? Because it would conflict with the beginning of the first chapter. There, Jordan is clearly a half-decent guy. He makes an effort not to come off as a creep, at least toward Maddy, and his relationship with her is quite equitable. Even at the very beginning of the story, their sex is femdommy in a way someone like Dylan (again, coming) wouldn’t tolerate.
It wouldn’t do to have him be a blustering male supremacist, but having him be unconsciously sexist is perfectly believable. Let’s keep reading.
During one meeting, Jordan noticed how it was the men speaking for the vast majority of the time, even though they were fairly evenly represented […] During a disagreement, his coworker Diane suggested a third option that went ignored, only for Adam to repeat it, to the great approval of their boss. […] During lunch, Jordan walked up to Diane to talk to her. […] "This might sound weird", Jordan began, "but I'm sorry for what happened during the meeting. I noticed Adam took credit for your idea." Diane was surprised. This was the first time anyone had noticed it among her male coworkers, let alone came up to talk to her about it.
I’ve seen references to feminism in ballbusting stories, but never actual feminist talking-points, even inoffensive 2014 ones like these. Most men simply don’t like to think about such things while reading porn. Why is this case different? Well, for one, this is just the story setup; not so much meant to arouse as to string two plots together. But there’s another reason I’ll touch on later.
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Diane is explicitly stated to be 22 years old, to have blond hair, and to be pale, thin, and not very strong. However, I could not help but picture her as a particular Diane I know, a buff black woman in her 60’s.
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I’ve mentioned that the story makes heavy use of the “misogynist put in his place” motif. I’ve mentioned in a previous post that I don’t like that motif (since it makes me not want to identify with the character), so what’s different here? Well, for one, the other stories using the motif tend to be bad in other ways, whereas this one happens to be very good in other ways. And also I'm not as worried about having to identify with him because I've already identified with Jordan. But beyond those anti-negative reasons, this story also makes use of it in a way I really enjoy.
Before any ballbusting occurs, all four are at dinner, and Maddy talks to Diane about her and Justin’s relationship dynamic. Dylan, a sexist loudmouth, ridicules it. Specifically, he ridicules Justin for being whipped. As Maddy starts teaching Diane, his ridicule turns to denial and then horror.
I love kink stories where someone outside the kink stumbles on the kink and is confused and possibly offended. Makes me feel special and unique. And Dylan‘s reaction to Maddy and Justin‘s dynamic fits that perfectly. It reminds me of my favorite erotic audio, which starts out with a woman moving in with her friend and finding that she has a “pet”, and struggles to reconcile her friend’s treatment of him as a pet and his pet behavior; with her obvious perception of him as a human guy.
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The middle chunk of the story consists of Maddy and Justin fighting to demonstrate to Diane the power of ballbusting, and then Diane fighting Dylan so she can really feel and internalize this power. It’s very good, but it’s not what makes this story stand out; it could be condensed to two paragraphs without really affecting my rating of the story.
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At the end of the story, Maddy restrains Jordan and encourages Diane to ballbust him to help teach him to fear women. Jordan (who earlier in the chapter obediently posed for Maddy to ballbust him), well—
When Jordan registered what Maddy meant, he grew discontented. Diane was her colleague, and he felt he already tried his best to treat her equitably. He felt that Maddy was interfering with their relationship. […] “Please Maddy, there's no need.”
Diane is hesitant to hurt her friend. (This might seem weird considering that she just did the same to her husband, but he’d been a misogynistic loudmouth. Justin had been a perfect gentleman for as long as she’d paid attention to him.) But when Justin appeals to their friendship and equality, she realizes,
Diane was incredulous. A choke-hold around his reproductive organs, and Jordan spoke of equal footing. But more irritating than that was his assertive tone. Diane had been reluctant at first, but now she decided that she'd have to personally teach him if he were ever going to truly treat her with respect on her terms. "Jordan, […] it seems to me that some part of your brain, some primitive part still thinks you're in control of me. And just so we're clear: we're not on equal footing."
She takes hold of his testicles.
"Look at these, Jordan. These are the weakest things in the world, and I make the rules, because I could be doing this anytime"
She squeezes them for a long time. Jordan asks
“What do I have to do to make you stop?”
And she replies
You just have to watch, Jordan. I want the image of me ravaging your poor nuts to be burnt into your memory. It's the only way to get the patriarchal programming out of your system.
From now on, Jordan, […] you're my assistant, not my colleague.
The rest of the story is concerned with her and Maddy training Jordan to treat her thus.
This is the arc of Justin’s relationship to Diane: first he ignores her, then he respects her, then he is beneath her. First he is sexist, then he learns simple 2014 feminism, then he learns female supremacy, still, by the way, tenuously cloaked in feminism (“patriarchal programming”). This, I think, is what the noticing-men-talking-over-women-in-the-workplace was leading up to.
Most stories skip that first step, usually because the men starts off thinking that women are weaker and thus inferior and subordinate. When they are bested physically, it's only natural that if women are stronger, they must be superior. Contrast this to Jordan. At the beginning of the first story, Jordan believes he could easily beat Maddy in a fight, but he doesn't think he's better than her for it. He's just physically bigger and muscle-stronger (in the real world he would be correct; this is even lampshaded in Dylan's thoughts). So finding out that women could overpower him if they wanted doesn't automatically make him inferior to them*. Just a bit warier.
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A bit about Diane’s character arc:
As Diane says while mercilessly beating Dylan’s balls,
"When we first met, I was still just a child from an abusive household, and I thought I deserved nothing better than you"
This is explicitly said to be the reason she’s stayed with him this long. She doesn’t respect herself. That's likely why Jordan’s comment about her being overlooked at meetings was so significant to her. And, symbolically at least, that token of respect is what allows her to receive Maddy’s lesson of A, controlling her husband, and B, being superior to men in general. She goes through the same progression as Jordan (disrespecting women, being controlled by his girlfriend, respecting women, being inferior to women in general), just from the other side.
In the words of commenter ServoKamen,
This is so sexy. I love when women awaken to their superiority.
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𝒎𝒚 𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒆
𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: fixing ties is a part of your job, so why is your boss acting like it isn’t?
𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒚 “𝒎𝒚 𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒆” 𝒃𝒚 2𝑷𝑴 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒊𝒕𝒔 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒊𝒄 𝒗𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒐
𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: bang chan x fem!reader
𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 13k
𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: smut, fluff, slight angst, and established relationship || ceo!bang chan x secretary!reader
𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: romantic sex, dirty talk, (some) possessiveness, marking, oral (female receiving), praising, “sir” kink (? 👀), (some) begging, unprotected sex (remember to always stay safe!!!), creampie
a/n: this is a gift to all you who submitted ceo bang chan asks and to everyone who followed me! thank you so much for 500 followers. i’m a bit late, but thank you! <3 thank you all so much!
little update (061921): three steps back has been posted!! this is a prequel to this fic, but you don’t have to read it in order to understand this one!!
three steps backˏˋ°•*⁀➷masterlist
taglist: @meow-minho @bxngchxn @dreamwrld @my-blueprint-haven @bobateastay @hyunsluvv @etherealeeknow @solistired @popisdead @arohabangtan @imagineinnie @happy-at-home @anna1126 @lattechans @yjunrecords @http-hyxnjxn @minaamhh @violethhj @changlix-mp4 @instachans @qtieskz @itsapapisongo @jisungcherry @healinghyunjin @asweeetdisposition @poutypoutybin @vogueinnie @fizzydrink698 @minniehohos
huge shoutout to @/popisdead for giving me an idea to put in the smut! you know what it is when you read it, l! 😌❤️
please don’t interact with this post if you are under the age of 18!
here we go again.
being the bang chan’s secretary meant that you had to accompany him to every event that required a plus one— public events, soirees, sales pitches, all the like. for the longest time, people have linked you to him and that wherever he went, you were expected to be there. it was almost like clockwork and here you were, beside him again, as he talked to mister seo changbin, the company’s vice chairman and chan’s right hand man. you relax your shoulders slightly.
don’t get it wrong, you loved being with chan and getting to see all the wonderful event venues around the country. people in chan’s level and caliber always threw the grandest of parties and though it was tiring just following your boss around, it was still better than staying at home and fixing chan’s schedule for the week. you also get to meet other high profile names in the industry and the company’s investors, most of which are also in the party tonight.
the party was thrown by the company to celebrate another successful sale made by none other than bang christopher chan. everyone who’s here is here to celebrate chan’s leadership and his success as the company’s youngest CEO. and, not to mention, as changbin lovingly put it just now, “his cockiness”. you giggle beside chan, smiling sheepishly when he gives you a playful glare.
when chang— mr. seo excuses himself to go grab another drink from one of the waiters roaming the hall, chan turns to you with a soft smile, his eyes content. “enjoying?” he asks as he gently swirls the wine glass in his hand.
“trying to,” you tease. you stand up straighter beside him, aware that people have eyes on you. it was one of the complaints you had about being next to chan. he was the center of attention everywhere and because you were beside him always, people tended to stare after they give chan a bow or even if they were gazing from afar. you always had to look presentable and though it came with the job, it gets tiring after a while. chan raises an eyebrow.
“what’s wrong?”
“nothing,” you smile. “just a little uncomfortable. that’s all.”
chan hums as he blinks. he surveys the hall before nodding. “if you want, you can go talk to some of the people here.”
chan barely allowed you to leave his side during public events. since you became a staple of his public appearances, seeing him alone always rose some eyebrows. so, why was tonight any different? you scrunch your eyebrows, swallowing as you tilt your head. the side of chan’s lip quirks up as his eyebrows mimic yours. it takes a second for chan to realize why.
“don’t worry about me,” chan laughs. “it’s a company event, so, i guess i can let you go for a bit.”
you look around the hall, frowning to yourself when you don’t spot any familiar faces. how were you supposed to interact with the businessmen in this party and wouldn’t it be weird if you just slid in the conversation? chan senses your hesitation, sucking his lips in as he gazes at the area.
“there’s, um,” chan moves in closer, tilting his glass toward the direction of a small group, “hwang hyunjin. do you remember him?”
of course, you do. chan sent you to the man’s office to confirm a sale a few months ago. you tripped in front of his desk and he only stared at you when you dusted yourself off. it wasn’t the most embarrassing moment in your life, but it was up there on the list. you huff softly.
chan hums once more as he glances at you. “you can talk to him or“—he tilts his glass to another group— “to the people in the office.” he takes a quick sip of his wine before grinning. “get the latest office gossip, like who’s dating who, you know? just all that fun stuff that i don’t get to know.”
office gossip? chan’s asking for juicy office gossip? you can’t blame him. out of all the people in the office, chan’s not the go-to person to talk about office drama. part of you feels bad, but then again, why would he care about one of the interns getting dumped if he’s too busy making sure the company doesn’t go under?
you fight the urge to giggle as you nod. chan catches the smile on your lips and he shakes his head, a soft ‘tsk’ leaving his lips.
“go on,” chan shoos playfully. “go socialize.” you give him a quick bow and before you could say anything else, mr. seo comes back, a full wine glass in his hand once more.
you step aside to look at the two groups chan pointed out. you could play it safe and go to the group you see around the office or you could shoot yourself in the foot and go to the group of millionaires.
you look behind as you feel chan’s eyes on you. once your eyes meet, he raises an eyebrow as he takes a sip of his wine. maybe you could impress him by going to the other group. the thought makes you turn away from him, feet moving in the direction of hwang hyunjin’s group.
you realize that this was a bad idea the moment the blonde-haired man spots you walking towards them. he raises his glass to greet you, head tilted to the side in curiosity and amusement. when you get nearer, the chatter in the group dies down and your mouth grows dry. their stare burns your skin and you can’t help but feel out of place.
“miss y/l/n,” hyunjin calls out, opening his arm out to invite you in the circle. “what brings you to our humble group?”
humble is not a word in this group’s vocabulary, that’s for sure. you smile at them as you inhale through your nose. this is a chance to mingle with the country’s richest and though you were nervous, it wouldn’t hurt to make a good impression, right? transactions in the future should be easier if you play your cards right. so, you part your lips and hum, “mr. bang wanted to get insider information and sent me over.”
the group laughs, almost rhythmically, like it’s been practiced before. nevertheless, the air grows lighter and beside you, hyunjin cracks a smile.
“that bastard. always one step ahead of us,” one of the men laughs. the other men join in and the conversation picks up where it left off— something about the trends in the market. not the most interesting of conversations, but you were already here. hyunjin keeps his eyes on you and he leans over to your side.
“thank goodness you didn’t trip this time around.” your cheeks flush red and you laugh the statement off as you shake your head. “i thought i’d have to relive it all over again.”
“it must have been a nightmare, mr. hwang,” you play along softly. hyunjin hums.
“a nightmare for you, a comedy for me.”
if this was bang chan, you would have shamelessly smacked him. the thought makes you realize how easy-going everything is when it came to your work relationship with chan. after all, the two of you have been working together for almost a decade. during that time, you’ve gotten to know chan in ways his right-hand man hasn’t and he’s gotten to know you in ways previous employers haven’t. the line between work and friendship has been blurred for a long time now, but none of you have complained.
“i’m happy my pain provided entertainment, mr. hwang,” you tease. hyunjin chuckles before finishing his glass of wine. behind you, you feel a set of eyes travel down your back. you ignore the feeling.
despite your lingering thoughts of chan, you couldn’t help but admire the man beside you. just like your boss, hwang hyunjin is one of the younger CEOs in the industry. he was younger than chan, but definitely carried himself in a manner that exuded superiority and grace, like he was on par with the men he’s standing with.
it seems to be the case because one of the businessmen in the group calls his attention, bringing him back to the conversation he was part of earlier. you frown when you see how loose his tie is around his neck.
someone’s secretary isn’t good with ties.
“not a good look,” you remember chan saying. like second nature, you reach over to grab hyunjin’s shoulder, gently turning him to face you. your hands find their way to the man’s tie, sliding the knot up to tighten it. when you look up, hyunjin’s eyes are on you and so are the eyes of the men around you.
the group grows silent and both of your breaths hitch. you’re frozen in your spot, blinking as you see hyunjin’s cheeks turn bright red. his eyes scan your face, panicked and confused. your hands on his tie start to shake and as you’re about to apologize, you feel a hand land on your lower back.
“i’m afraid i’d have to steal her for a bit, hyunjin,” you hear behind you. you bite your lower lip as you lean away from hyunjin, settling into the familiar hand. it takes a second for the blonde-haired man to recover, but he laughs, rubbing the back of his neck as he forces a smile.
“go ahead,” hyunjin chuckles shakily. “i’m not about to steal your secretary from you.”
“i’d like to see you try,” chan laughs and as if on cue, the others laugh with him. you give hyunjin an apologetic look when your eyes meet and he responds with a quick bow of his head like it was his fault. you put on your best fake laugh, your heart beating in your ears.
once the men stop laughing, the jokes thrown out earlier dissipate into thin air. and as much as you’d like to believe that these men were all friends, you were knowledgeable enough about the industry to say that this was all for show— the bows, the greetings, the jokes, the laughs, them coming to the party to “celebrate” chan’s success, all of it.
hyunjin’s the first to speak again, moving away from you and chan to close the circle and get away from the awkwardness that has formed between the three of you.
you feel chan remove his hand from your lower back and he uses it to grab your hand. “let’s dance.” chan whispers in your ear. you wet your lip as he leads you to the dance floor and the crowd parts to make way for the man of the hour and his plus one.
chan has always made you feel like you were the only woman in the room and he does it again tonight when he circles around you, his hand not letting go and his eyes never leaving yours. chan grins as he closes the gap between you and you hear your own breath stop. your eyes trail down to his lips when he wraps an arm around your waist.
your heartbeat rings in your ear once more when you and chan start swaying in time with the music. “i thought you didn’t want to dance tonight,” you whisper.
“it doesn’t hurt to have a little fun, you know.”
you rest your forehead on his shoulder as you scoff internally. bang chan, the man whose head is always filled with work, even during events like this, now wants to have fun and dance with his secretary?
you could laugh, but instead you let him lead you on the dance floor. you and he have never done this and you wonder if he feels as nervous as you are. but knowing him, he would never show it, at least not right now.
as the both of you settle in the feeling of each other’s warmth, he mumbles, “you feel it too?”
you shiver as you lean back from his shoulder. you wanted to ask what he meant. was he referring to the way your heart skips a beat when you catch him staring from his office window or when he throws you a soft smile when he walks by your desk? or was he talking about the way his hand lingers for way too long when you give him his coffee or the way his hand subtly reaches out for yours when it’s close to his?
you weren’t stupid. of course, you’ve felt it. everyone in the office has, except for bang chan himself.
maybe it’s not insanity after all. your colleagues aren’t talking out of their asses and there’s a chance, no matter how small it is, that bang chan felt it too. whatever it may be.
chan clicks his tongue when you don’t answer, his eyes scanning your face as you struggle to come up with a coherent thought. he breaks the eye contact before looking around the hall. “everyone’s watching.”
you feel a quick pang of pain in your chest. bang chan, the youngest CEO of his family’s company and the smartest out of all the men in here, is the most oblivious man you’ve ever come across. heat creeps up onto your cheeks and you mentally smack yourself in the head. you were crazy for even hoping that you were both on the same wavelength. it’s just not possible, no matter how much you romanticize the whole situation. you swallow as you nod, hanging your head gently as the both of you continue to sway.
“don’t be shy,” chan chuckles softly. “you’re doing great.”
“yeah, right,” you mumble, playing off the embarrassment and the pain bubbling in your chest. you see a flash of worry pass chan’s eyes, but he doesn’t say anything.
the dance floor slowly fills up with the other couples in the hall, taking the prying eyes off of the two of you. for now. you let out a shaky exhale as chan’s hand squeezes yours.
“you also did great with hyunjin’s tie.”
you raise your eyebrows in surprise, letting out a soft, but nervous giggle. “i have enough experience with yours, sir.” chan snorts before rolling his eyes playfully. he spins the both of you around, wading through the other couples as smoothly as he could manage.
“my ties are of better quality, miss y/l/n. you, of all people, would know.” chan chuckles before his eyes leave yours. he pulls you in closer to him, inhaling softly when you collide with him. what that was for, you don’t know, but you’re close enough to feel his breath on your skin. there must be something in the air.
or maybe he’s just drunk. who knows, really?
“right,” you tease after a few beats of silence, “your ties are imported and his are...?”
“probably imported too,” chan shrugs. “he has the money.”
you scrunch your nose, pulling back from his embrace. “you have to make up your mind. you either talk about him behind his back or you compliment him.” chan tilts his head as he shrugs again, eyes filled with amusement. “you can’t do both.”
“i can do both,” chan mumbles. “i just did it, yes?”
you feel a set of eyes on the both of you, but this time you couldn’t care less. chan, with his charm, wit, and annoying smile, has managed to calm your nerves yet again. it makes you wonder if there was ever a line between friendship and work with the two of you.
you’re taken back to reality as you and chan sway in a comfortable silence, letting the orchestra take you to a world only the two of you knew. you sigh as you turn your head and rest your cheek on his shoulder. you inhale the scent of his cologne, the one you’ve come to know and love after all these years.
“hey,” you hear chan say after a while. you raise your head to meet his eyes before raising an eyebrow. “don’t fix anyone else’s ties when we’re together, okay?”
“are you jealous?” you taunt as you try not to focus on the fact that bang chan’s lips are right there, plump, red, and lonely. chan scoffs, his arm around your waist tightening.
“should i be?”
you laugh, throwing your head back dramatically as chan twirls the both of you around. when he stops, your eyes meet again and he gives you another grin. “you sound like you are.” his grin disappears as quickly as it formed, turning into a small, playful snarl.
“do i? that’s interesting,” chan teases, his shoulders relaxing ever so slightly. “i just,” he breathes, “don’t appreciate you going around the place fixing every man’s tie in here.”
you giggle, lightly smacking chan’s shoulder. “i fixed one, chan,” you snicker. “i fixed one tie. one!”
“that’s one too many ties, sweetheart.” the nickname travels throughout your body. it’s something he’s never called you before. you blush once more, turning your head away from him as you pretend to look at the other couples dancing. chan hums in front of you, unwrapping his arm around you to instead plant his hand on your waist.
“i was just doing my job,” you mutter. chan licks his bottom lip before he responds. your breath stops when you catch him taking in your facial features, but within a second, his eyes travel back to yours.
“i don’t think ‘fixing hwang hyunjin’s tie’ was part of the contract you signed years ago.”
“but fixing your tie is?” you retort.
chan grins at how fast you respond, shrugging playfully before twirling you around. the couples beside you gasp and giggle, your cheeks heating up at the sudden motion and attention. when you return to chan, he’s chuckling as he wraps his arm around your waist again, pulling you into his torso once more.
“you signed up for that the moment you were hired,” chan mutters, lips painfully close to yours. you swallow as your body starts to grow hot from the lack of space between the two of you.
for a moment, the people around you disappear and you could only focus on the way chan’s breath comes in contact with your skin. when he notices your eyes on his lips, he grins as he continues. “that means you’re only fixing my tie.”
you bite your lip when he leans in to whisper, his arm lowering to a place that you weren’t used to, “and the last time i checked, we’re still in a party thrown for me. in my company. in my house.”
your eyes widen when he pulls away, putting a small space in between the two of you. his arm loosens around you and you can’t help but long for its warmth again. your cheeks are flushed red when you part your lips to say, “chan, i—“
“don’t apologize,” chan interrupts, tilting his head as his arm comes back up to its previous position. it’s as if the words that left his mouth earlier were nothing important, like it wouldn’t keep you up at night. “just do better next time.”
you were used to hearing those words from chan, being his secretary. you had to admit that you weren’t the best one for the job, almost always messing up the man’s schedule or just being plain absentminded while you’re sat on your office chair. you’ve lost track of how much you’ve put chan through, but it was always the same seven words he utters when he helps you clean up the mistakes. it’s a miracle you’re still his secretary, almost a decade after.
“as always,” you stutter softly, your breath betraying you when it hitches.
you see the couples on the dance floor dispersing and before you could move away from chan, he pulls you back into his chest to whisper, “let’s get out of here.” you raise an eyebrow.
“this early?” chan nods in response.
“in 10 minutes,” he turns the both of you to the direction of the back door, “i’ll be waiting for you over there.”
you blink at him as his words replay over and over in your mind. bang chan was the type to finish parties to the point that sometimes, you and he were the last people to leave the venue. but now, he wants to leave the party that was thrown specifically to celebrate him?
“this is new,” you choke out. chan chuckles as he steps away from you, hand still not letting go of yours. he brings the back of your hand to his lips and gives it a soft peck. his lips linger on your skin and when his eyes come up to meet yours, he smirks.
“10 minutes.”
when you look at the obnoxiously large clock on the stage at the end of the room, you realize that the minutes have flown by before you even started counting them.
meeting chan’s eyes from across the room, you knew that it was time to leave. he puts his wine glass on the table beside him, giving one of the businessmen a pat on the back as he excuses himself. when he disappears into the crowd, you clasp your hands together as you wonder what he had planned for the remainder of the night.
your eyes fall on chan when you arrive. he’s resting his back on the wall behind him and his shoulders are slumped, a stark contrast from the way he looked inside earlier. his hands are inside his pockets and the top two buttons of his black formal polo are now unbuttoned. he’s looking at the floor as he waits, his foot tapping to the rhythm of the song being performed in the other room. the echo of your heels in the empty room grabs chan’s attention and he raises his head to meet your eyes, a smile on his lips.
“ready to go?” he asks.
“to where, exactly?” you hum, grabbing your phone from your dress pocket to give chan’s driver a quick text.
like the way your breath hitches, your movements halt when chan opens the back door for you. shouldn’t you be the one to open it for him and not the other way around? you motion forward with your hand and chan shakes his head.
“ladies first.”
“listen, i don’t know what you’re doing,” you start, “but i know you’re expecting something in return after this.” chan lets out an exhale through his nose as he smiles. “so, i think you should step out first.”
“maybe, i just want to do something for you this time,” chan shrugs. “have you ever thought of that?”
chan watches the way your cheeks heat up and before any of you could say anything else, you hear a honk outside. he’s the first to break the eye-contact, looking behind to wave at his driver. he turns his attention back to you with a cheeky grin on his lips.
“like i said, ladies first.”
you narrow your eyes toward him, but you step out nonetheless. behind you, you hear the door close and chan’s walking toward the car before you could blink. you follow after him, your heels clacking on the concrete. you overtake him as you near the car, your hand gripping the handle to open the door for him. his hand makes contact with yours, enveloping it as he does the same.
your eyes meet and it might have been because of the cold night air, but you see the color of bang chan’s cheeks turn into a light shade of red. you try to stop yourself from shivering when he grips your hand tighter to open the car door. your eyes don’t leave him as it opens and he motions for you to enter first.
you hesitate. wasn’t this your job?
“y/n,” you hear him call, “i insist.”
you sigh, but don’t say anything else when you slip your hand out of his grip, ducking as you get inside the backseat. chan follows soon after, closing the car door and greeting his driver as he relaxes his back on the seat behind him.
chan’s driver turns to him as he asks, “where to, sir?”
he answers, “take us home, please.”
and with that, chan presses the button to slide the partition close.
the words that left his mouth almost give you whiplash. it was such a simple sentence, but somehow, your brain couldn’t comprehend it. you open your mouth as you turn to give chan a look. he reciprocates as he cocks his head to the side, chest glistening underneath the streetlights.
“i apologize if that was a bit forward, but is it okay if i bring you to my place?” your boss hums, putting his arm on the curve of the backseat. “i figured we could work there instead of the office.”
you let his words settle into you the same way you lean back on the seat. your mind travels back to the calendar you prepared and submitted to him last sunday—a couple of meetings on monday and tuesday, a press conference on wednesday, and a celebratory party on thursday. and since everyone’s too hungover to function the next day, friday’s scheduled to be a lighter one, as requested by chan himself. you furrow your eyebrows, looking up at the ceiling to wonder, did you somehow forget the details you put on the schedule?
and not just details, but work? didn’t you and chan rush two days worth of tasks the previous nights so that the both of you can, as you quote him, “enjoy the party”? but, here you were, on the way to his house to work. again.
chan catches the look in your eyes. “it’s nothing heavy. i just need your help.”
“and why wasn’t this plotted in your official schedule?” you question, letting your eyes drift to his, an eyebrow raised.
chan’s eyes widen and he brings his forearm up to scratch the side of his head. “it’s...it’s really not that important to warrant a spot in my calendar.”
“but, important enough for you to ask for my help?”
the color on chan’s cheeks disappear and his smile drops the way his arm does to his side. he scoffs softly. “if it’s work related, of course.” he shakes his head. “you’re my secretary. a part of your job is to heed every call.”
“is this what i have to do since you opened the door for me earlier?”
“‘this’ being?”
“staying up all night with you again. working.”
chan rests his elbow on the window beside him. “that’s never been a problem for you, y/n,” he pauses. “why is it a problem now?”
you weren’t one to complain, but was it such a bad thing to long for a break? sure, the party takes place inside the company’s hall, but you didn’t have to be hunched over a desk, reading through paperwork to summarize and report or make him coffee to keep him awake. you weren’t required to do things for him—to work— because the both of you were there to have fun, mingle, and socialize with all of the other hot shots in the industry.
you were hoping, even just for one night, that you’d escape work responsibilities, that chan would have something fun planned for tonight.
but, maybe you expected for too much from bang christopher chan.
his dry laugh interrupts your thoughts. “unless you’d rather be with hwang hyunjin on that dance floor?”
“hwang hyun— are you kidding me?” you exclaim, eyes wide, as you turn to him. “you’re picking a fight because of hwang hyunjin? i can’t believe this.”
you huff as you cross your arms in front of your chest, looking away from chan to gaze out the window. the previous topic of the calendar is thrown out and it joins the blur of the buildings moving past the car. never in your life have you despised a three-letter word until now, when memories of tonight are slowly overpowered by the word tie.
you hear chan take a deep breath and you couldn’t help but wonder if the man is actually jealous. if so, you’d prefer he tell you, rather than going back and forth. but then again, you were perfectly fine sitting like this with him—silent and unmoving. it stays like this for a few good minutes, until, in the corner of your eye, you see chan’s knee start bouncing. if it weren’t for that, you wouldn’t—
“i don’t see the big deal,” you sigh exasperatedly. “it’s just a damn tie.” before your hands even fall to your lap, chan’s eyes are on you like they never left.
he turns his body to you, motioning with his hands as he frowns. “it’s not just a tie to me. do you know how close th—“
“so, you are jealous?” you ask, putting a hand on your forehead as your skin heats up. “you’re jealous because i fixed another man’s tie?”
he furrows his eyebrows, shaking his head, as he grips the curve of the backseat. “i—“
“chan, you’re not even wearing a tie tonight! what am i supposed to fix—oh my god!“
the air in the car grows heavy as you try and catch your breath. chan slowly lowers his head to gaze upon his exposed chest. the tips of his ears turn red and it quickly travels down to his cheeks and neck. he swallows as he rubs his nape, a sheepish grin replacing the frown he had on earlier.
it was moments like this that make you wonder if chan’s really the smartest man you know.
“i guess you’re right,” chan whispers. “i’m sorry.”
“you should be,” you say in disbelief. “god, chan, it’s not like i wanted to do it!” he raises his eyebrows, letting out a soft hum, as he nods at your words. you crinkle your nose as you continue. “it was an honest mistake that i”— you point to yourself—“wholeheartedly regret doing and before yo—“
“i just don’t like other men looking at you the same way i do,” chan cuts you off, volume higher than usual. “okay? that’s it.” your boss slices the air to, quite literally, cut the tension. “end of argument.”
absolutely not. not after what he just said.
chan shrugs as he turns away from you to rest his elbow on the window once more. your heart pounds in your chest as his words float around in your mind, attacking every single thought that had made its presence known. your mind becomes an empty void and when you come to your senses—one of them—your skin forms goosebumps.
and it’s not because of the ac in the car.
“help me understand what’s happening right now, chan.”
“y/n,” chan groans softly. “if only you saw the way hyunjin looked at you. his eye—“
“i tripped in front of him!”
“and that’s the charm of it all,” chan states as he turns to look at you. your eyes meet and your heart skips a beat. you blink at him and he sighs.
“you’re different from all of the other women in there. you’re a breath of fresh air.”
your shoulders relax, but your hands begin to sweat. your anger and frustration have now been replaced by confusion and the butterflies in your stomach, which have been reserved for the man in front of you, start flapping their wings as your cheeks heat up. you’re about to ask what he meant, but chan parts his lips and it shuts you up quickly.
“it’s hard to let our guards down. the industry’s full of competition, full of rivalry, so you have to have thick skin,” chan pauses to shrug. “the businessmen in that party don’t care about my success, nor do the media. they only care about what’s next for us, what’s next for the company, all that good stuff.” chan sighs, “you know what i mean.”
“because of that,” he clicks his tongue, “i can’t have friends, nor can i have relationships because i’m never sure why they’re with me.” chan laughs bitterly and you feel a bit of resentment seeping out as he continues. “is it about the money? the fame? corporate espionage? fuck if i know,” chan looks back out of the window. on his thigh, you see his fist clench.
it was at this moment that you knew that this was not bang christopher chan, but this was only chan beside you, the complex, but relaxed and soft-spoken man you were privileged enough to know and spend time with during late nights in the office. a side of him no one else saw, but for some reason, he was willing to share as you sat beside him on his office couch.
the silence that comes after is louder than anything you’ve heard at the party earlier. you decide to take the leap, reach out, and hold his hand.
“y/n,” he breathes out, stopping your hand. “you’re different, okay? you’re different because you’ve never made me feel that way.” chan runs a hand through his hair. “the men and women in the office tiptoe around me, like there’s eggshells or something,” chan hangs his head down as he taps his fingertips on his thigh. “but you, you barely ever do.”
your breath catches in your throat and you whimper, “chan—“
“i’m not finished,” chan jokes shakily, turning his body to you this time. “you’re not afraid to make mistakes when you’re around me, laugh at my jokes, or sometimes, you just sit there and listen to me ramble.” chan smiles to himself. “you tell me what’s on your mind, your opinions, your views and most of the time, that’s the highlight of my day, not”— he motions with his hands—“the sale i’ll be making in the afternoon or the press conference we’ve got planned.”
us, we. always the duo, you and chan were. but why does tonight feel different and why is the sparkle in his eyes more prominent than before? “hell,” chan rolls his eyes playfully, “you even answer back to me. not a lot of people get that privilege.” even if your eyebrows are furrowed, your lips part to let out a soft giggle.
“and it does infuriate me,” he chuckles, shaking his head. “but i’ll let you do it.” chan lets his eyes meet yours and you freeze.
“over and over again.”
you feel as if a strong wind blows in the car, knocking you back into the seat. you grip the side of your dress to keep your hand from shaking. chan’s stare burns your skin and you try your best not to melt into the car itself. he inhales, “whenever you talk back, it makes me feel human. it reminds me that”—he puts a hand over his chest—“i’m not perfect, that i make mistakes, and that i should let my pride down sometimes.”
“sometimes?” you interrupt. chan’s ears perk up when he hears you and he lets his shoulders relax, his eyes growing soft and a grin forming on his lips.
“yes, sometimes,” chan snickers. “but, i guess what i’m trying to say is,” he sighs, “you make me feel human, not a business drone or ‘the most successful CEO of the year’.”
before you could respond or even make sense of the point, chan quickly adds, “and you probably made hyunjin feel the same way when you tripped. i remember you told me that he bursted out laughing as soon as you left his office.”
“yeah,” you deadpan. “thanks for that memory.” beside you, chan chuckles and the car slows down when the light turns red.
“anytime.”
and with a small smile on his lips, your boss at the other end of the seat looks back out of the window. in the corner of your eye, you see chan’s hand on the middle of the seat. you’re almost tempted to take it into yours as your mind travels to the words he uttered only moments ago.
there’s a reason why he’s awarded as the country’s most successful CEO. chan, as lovingly labelled by the media, is the industry’s Wolf, a title that was given to him during his second year in the position. and though many have come close, like the blonde-haired man in the party earlier, chan has never been overthrown by any other. sharp and smart, bang chan has done more than his father ever could, bringing the company to the international stock market and to other heights that only the other CEOs could dream of.
but, all these achievements came at a price. it’s lonely at the top, as they’ve said, and with bang chan, you saw that very statement come to life. chan, because of his reputation and riches, has closed himself up to make sure his mind and his company stays ahead and clear. that, of course, meant that he had to solve his personal problems on his own.
because who would the man on top run to when there’s no one else with him?
however, with his words, you realize that, maybe, you were that person for him. the person he can laugh and joke around with. the person he can talk to freely, ramble to, and spend time with. the person that allows him to be himself, no judgements, no pressure.
though, you’ve always felt some sort of tension between the two of you, it was enough to know that chan saw you more than just his secretary. you’d rather have him that way, than nothing at all. you turn to him.
you’re about to thank him, but chan’s voice rings out in the car as the light outside turns green. “and apart from all of that, you’re gorgeous too.”
“excuse me?” you choke out, eyes widening. chan turns to you, an eyebrow raised as he exhales through his nose. a soft ‘what?’ leaves his lips. “did i have too much to drink tonight?” chan merely chuckles at the question.
“you didn’t have any,” he responds. you shake your head as you shift uncomfortably in your seat.
it couldn’t be possible. was this a dream? first, chan became slightly possessive and now he’s calling you gorgeous like it won’t affect you, like you’ll believe him. the world must be punishing you right now, but if you close your eyes, maybe you’ll wake up in your apartment like it’s groundhog day. as you try and shut the world off, chan calls out your name and it brings you back to the car.
“do you want me to repea—“
“no!” you exclaim, leaning over to grab chan’s forearm.
chan glances at your hand, then at your lips. it’s through this subtle action that you realize how close the two of you are. he blinks at you while his cheeks become coated with a nice shade of red, but he doesn’t pull his arm away. “well, you heard me,” he utters. “i apologize if i don’t say it enough or don’t say it at all.”
you’re about to lose your mind.
“but, um,” chan uses his free hand to scratch the back of his neck, “you really are beautiful. hwang hyunjin knows it, changbin knows it, the staff in the office know it, and i know it.” chan pauses as his eyes scan your face for any reaction, to which you respond only with your mouth slightly opening.
he huffs as he furrows his eyebrows, “i know it because i get to be with you everyday and i’d be stupid to deny it to myself any further.”
“and yes, it does bother me when men stare at you,” chan continues. your chest tightens and you couldn’t breathe, but it’s somehow the good kind, the kind that you don’t want to end, the kind that you could get used to.
“they see how much of a great woman you are, in the office and out of it. i’m glad they do, but at the same time,” chan pauses to remove his forearm from your grip. he wraps both of his hands around your wrists.
“you and i have been together for so long that i can’t see myself working with anybody new.” you blink. “what if they take you away? what if they offer you a higher salary or promise you more opportunities? or what if the—“
“chan,” you whisper, “just tell me what you want to say.” the man in front of you lets out a shaky breath and when he opens his mouth once more, a mess of incoherent words come out.
“just give it to me straight.” you plead. both of your eyes lock as his breath intertwines with yours.
you’ve only really lit one firework in your whole life.
how it goes is you strike a match to ignite a spark and while it travels down the incredibly long wick, it gives you ample time to run away and cower. the experience of running and waiting was thrilling, but what came after was underwhelming—the spark did not carry over to its destination.
but as chan presses his lips on yours, his hands tightening around your wrists to pull you in closer, you’re finally able to see the spark reach its destination after the 8 years of long, agonizing wait. the firework fires up into the sky, the black canvas being painted by a million different colors all at once. chan removes his hands around your wrists to cup your face.
now, you can say that you’ve lit two fireworks in your life.
compared to the absolute chaos happening inside of your body, the kiss is slow and gentle with chan’s lips, soft and plump, perfectly fitting into yours like a puzzle piece you never knew was missing. you tangle your hands into his hair to push him into you deeper and chan lets you, tilting his head to the side.
chan’s hand is the match that ignites another spark in your chest as it travels down to the side of your neck. your heart pounds louder when his hand settles on your skin, the heat from his fingertips combining with the heat that has formed on your neck.
you find yourself leaning back to the corner of your seat and before you could process it, chan’s on top of you. your skin forms goosebumps when his hand moves down to your waist. when you arch your back and push your torso onto his, you rip a soft groan from the back of his throat.
chan pushes himself off of you, his pupils dilated and his breath not being remotely enough for him.
“what was that for?” you whisper, your chest heaving. outside, you see his mansion come into view.
“you said to give it to you straight.”
but, fuck, you wanted more. you wanted curves, zigzags, waves, all of it. as long as chan’s lips are on yours again, you wanted it all.
truth be told, you’ve never set foot in chan’s house. you’ve only seen the mansion through the car window, but you knew, one way or the other, you’ll be able to see what lies inside. of course, you were his secretary. heed every call, right?
you just didn’t envision that it’d be in this way.
“chan—“
you don’t finish your sentence as you’re gently pushed back onto the front door once it closes. chan’s on you like the way he was in the car, but this time, he’s closer, the distance almost non-existent as he puts his hands on your waist. goosebumps arise from your skin as his lips find their way to your neck. you’ve always thought you were stronger than this, but you’re already gasping for air when he starts peppering kisses down your skin.
“chan,” you breathe. he comes up from the side of your neck with his eyebrow raised and a small grin on his lips. “i thought we had work to do.”
chan hums nonchalantly in response and he merely dives back in your neck, closing the space between the two of you like you weren’t close enough. you find yourself tilting your head to give him more access and chan, being the smart man he is, notices this immediately. he grunts softly and you shiver, his lips latching onto the sides he hasn’t taken in.
you bite your lip, but as much as you were enjoying the attention, especially after 8 years of longing, you and chan had to work. knowing him, he’d value work over this in a heartbeat. you try and push him off of you, but he only tightens his grip.
“chan,” you whine, “this can wai—“
“no,” he mutters as he pulls you into his torso, “it can’t.” he hovers his lips on yours, his hot breath hitting your skin. “i don’t want to wait anymore.” you gasp when he squeezes your waist.
“i can’t. not anymore.”
though chan’s tone is stern, there’s longing in his voice like he’s a man who’s been denied of life’s pleasures for years and frankly, you feel the same way. he didn’t have to say anything else before you’re clashing your lips into his, your hands travelling to his hair and tugging on it. chan presses his body onto yours and you’re pushed back on the door again. you whimper.
chan’s clothed torso is hot against yours and its heat travels down in between your thighs. your wetness pools in your panties and before you knew it, he’s unwrapping his arm from your waist to lift you up. your legs wrap around his torso in an instant, like the both of you have done this before. he grins into the kiss, his hands finding their way to the curve of your ass as he starts walking to his bedroom.
even with his eyes closed and his neck craned up to keep his lips on yours, chan wades smoothly through his furniture and the both of you make it up the stairs with no problem. you should have been more concerned, but knowing bang chan, he’s got you. always have and always will, that much you know. he does, however, accidentally slam you onto his bedroom door. you wince.
“sorry,” chan mumbles. “won’t happen again.”
“excited?” you tease softly. chan chuckles against your lips as he reaches out to grab the door handle.
“very.” you feel a gush of wind hit your back as the door opens. his lips are on yours again as the both of you make your way in.
he lies you down on the bed, your hair splaying all over your shoulders and on the sheets behind you. when chan pulls away, he latches himself onto the skin behind your ear and you sigh as you put your hand on the back of his head. you arch your back into him when you feel his member hardening from below you and all he could do is chuckle, though a bit shaky.
chan runs a hand down to your waist as you spread your legs open to accommodate him. “you’re already so beautiful,” he breathes on your skin, “and you aren’t even naked yet.”
your breath catches in your throat, whimpering in response. it was overwhelming enough to learn that chan finds you beautiful, but to think that he’s thought of you unclothed? you could die happy now, as cheesy as that sounds. he comes up from your neck to press a soft kiss on your jaw. his free hand trails up the side of your body, fingers playing with the zipper located on the side of the dress.
“may i?”
the question rings out in the room and it echoes in the confines of your mind. such a simple, harmless question, but you feel blood rush to every part of your body. your legs close around his torso, your clit starting to throb at the prospect of being undressed by the man you’ve been hopelessly in love with. you nod and chan whispers a soft ‘thank you’ as he starts unzipping your dress.
as you feel your dress start unravelling with his touch, you inhale, taking in chan’s scent. it’s a combination of mint and lemon and it’s something you’ve gotten used to after years of working with him. it’s never been anything but cologne to you, but tonight it’s ambrosial and intoxicating. you let yourself drown in it, closing your eyes as chan’s lips continue to do their wonders on your neck.
the cold air hits your skin once chan fully unzips your dress and it brings you back to his bed, in his presence, in his hold. you whimper softly in his ear. he squeezes your waist, grunting as he presses a soft kiss on your shoulder.
“i can’t believe we waited this long,” chan whispers. you giggle before slowly slipping your arms out of your now loose dress straps. you don’t break the eye contact as you tug your dress down to your chest. the dip in between your tits catches chan’s attention and he breaks the stare to shamelessly trail his eyes down.
chan licks his bottom lip before he looks back up at you.
“we don’t have to wait anymore,” you reassure, reaching a hand up to swipe your thumb over his lip, glistening and swollen.
at your words, chan’s eyes dilate and darken. the color of his cheeks turn into a shade of red and as you’re about to tease, chan tugs your dress down your chest, exposing your breasts in all of its entirety. heat travels all over your body and your nipples harden under his touch. chan dips down to your chest like the bead of sweat trickling down your back and you can only moan when his lips start sucking the skin in between your breasts.
you whimper when he cups one of your tits, kneading it softly as he continues to suck on the skin. your hand finds its way to chan’s shoulder and you grip it as he pulls away with a soft pop. chan gazes up at you before smirking, your words failing you once again when he attaches his lips beside your nipple, nipping on the skin to leave another mark.
you moan his name as your hand latches onto the back of his head, pulling him into your skin even more. his teeth graze you and you arch your back into him, only to be pushed down by his hand on your waist. he doesn’t say anything once he pulls away, only going back in to leave more marks on your chest.
as if the marks weren’t proof of who you belonged to, chan utters, “mine.” you squeeze his shoulder tighter. “all mine.”
maybe, this is why chan’s called “the Wolf”.
your mouth falls open, his name falling off of it as his lips wrap around your nipple. the hand on your waist moves back up to cup your other breast. one of chan’s fingers plays with your other nipple and your hips lifts up to meet him, your heat making contact with his member. chan groans onto your skin, the vibrations travelling back down to where you ached for him.
“you say my name so prettily, babe.” the nickname shoots you straight in the chest and your heart aches. never in a million years did you think that chan would be on you the way he was now. the thought makes you whine softly. you feel chan’s hand move away from your breast. it follows the curve of your body and it slips in between your thighs, making you spread your legs even further apart. chan chuckles breathlessly.
you shiver when he presses his fingers in the front of your panties and you bite your lip when he starts rubbing, his tongue on your nipple following the motion of his fingers below you. as most new lovers, however, chan’s missing where you needed him most and you move your hips to help him find it. chan’s off of your nipple the moment you call out above him, chest slightly heaving as he looks up at you.
“can you move—“ you pant, “to the left?”
it takes a second for him to realize, the movement of his fingers slowing to a halt as he tilts his head. he blushes softly when he does and he chuckles. “i... just—“ he complies with your needs, but he’s still not—
“oh fuck. yeah,” you cry out when he finally finds your nub. “right there, chan. right there.”
“yeah baby,” he grunts, a smirk taking over his lips after. “i feel you.”
it’s amazing how chan’s making you see stars when he’s only rubbing you through your panties. chan notices this too, pecking one of the marks he left on your chest as he hums, moving down in between your legs. he inhales softly, fingers still making circles on your clit.
“god,” he groans. “you smell so sweet.” your wetness gushes out of you and you grip the sheets beside you, biting your lip as you feel his hot breath caress your folds. chan raises his eyes and he licks his lip when your eyes lock.
“i want to taste you.”
so simple, so straightforward, yet so obscene coming from the mouth of an executive. chan grins when you breathe a ‘yes’, your back arching when he hooks a finger on the waist band of your panties, teasingly taking his time as he pulls it down your thighs. you buck your hips up and chan snickers, “okay, okay. i got it.”
he puts your panties aside before he comes back up to your torso. his clothed member is dangerously close to yours and you’re almost tempted to grind yourself onto him. “let’s get this off,” chan mumbles as he tugs on your dress. “now.”
it may be the secretary in you or it may just be the lust that’s driving you at this point, but you’re scrambling to help chan get rid of the dress that’s clinging to your body. you shiver when it’s removed fully, the dress hitting the floor with a soft thud. chan looks down at you and he lets out a long breath like he’s been holding one in. you blush and instinctively, your hands try to cover your body. he frowns as he leans back down to grab a hold of your hands.
“no,” he mumbles before pressing a kiss on your lips. “your body’s beautiful. you’re beautiful. don’t hide from me.”
chan lets go of your hands and you let them fall down to your sides. “do you know how long i’ve wanted to see you like this?” he mutters as he kisses down your torso. goosebumps form on your skin. “especially when you wear those skirts.”
your heart pounds in your chest when he settles in between your thighs, kissing them before he dips down to press a kiss on your clit. your hand goes to his hair, your core clenching at the feeling of being empty.
“sir—“
“oh, that’s so cliché,” chan interjects, a playful smile on his lips as he raises his head. the atmosphere in the room changes and you find yourself opening your eyes as you prop yourself up with your elbows. you raise an eyebrow as heat travels to your cheeks.
“i—“
“if i got off to that nickname, i would have had a hard-on every time you called me sir.”
you roll your eyes with a huff as you lie back down on the bed. “just get on with it.”
“wow,” he laughs softly, “my secretary’s ordering me around now?”
truthfully, you loved banter with chan, but not tonight. not when he’s there, in between your thighs, purposefully ignoring the sex that’s staring him straight in the eyes. always the tease, bang chan was. you’re just not having it tonight.
“i’m not your secretary right now.”
you hear chan inhale sharply and within a second, he’s on your core like a fiend craving a shot of his drug. your hand’s on his hair again, tugging on it as you moan incoherently. he licks a stripe from your hole to your clit, the lewd sounds of his tongue lapping your wetness ringing out in the room after. your hip bucks up when he starts sucking on your clit and he puts your leg over his shoulder in the process to give him more access to your folds.
“you’re so delicious,” chan groans. “better than anything i’ve ever tasted.” you moan out brokenly, pulling him back into your clit like your life depended on it. he chuckles against it and the vibrations allow an explosion of a million fireworks inside of you. your mouth falls open the way your legs do, your moans filling the room with the sound of chan’s full lips on your pussy.
chan smirks below you, obviously pleased by the way your body is reacting to him. it’s embarrassing, but that’s what he gets for taking his precious time with you. you know he won’t let this go any time soon, but you couldn’t care less. he pecks your clit before pulling away. your clit throbs at the loss of the friction, but chan makes up for it when he plunges two of his fingers inside of you.
the intrusion is sudden, but welcome, as your back flies off of the bed with a loud cry, sitting up as you grip his shoulder. chan mewls softly as he plants a hand outside of your thigh to support himself as he leans up to crash his lips into yours. you taste your juices on him when he swipes his tongue on your bottom lip and your wetness seeps out, dripping onto the sheets below you. his fingers continue their assault on your pussy, alternatively thrusting and rubbing your walls.
chan pulls away from the kiss and a string of your combined spit attaches itself on his bottom lip. he breaks the string by licking his bottom lip and you find it unfair how chan’s lips just continue to look immaculate despite how swollen and red it is. he simpers as he rests his forehead on yours, sweat starting to form on its sides.
“do you hear yourself, baby?” he purrs. “do you hear how wet you are for me?” for him, for him, for him. all for chan, all for the man you’ve loved for years now. your hand wraps around his nape, pulling chan into your shoulder as he continues to thrust into your heat. he groans as he bites down on the skin, the sound of your slick overpowering anything else in the bedroom. you feel the familiar coil starting to form in your lower regions.
your cunt clenches around his fingers when he curls them and your hips start to gyrate. “y/n,” chan moans, “you’re getting so tight.” you whimper his name as your wetness coats his fingers even more, the sound and the smell of your sex getting more and more prominent as the coil in your stomach threatens to unravel for chan.
“cum for me, baby,” he growls. “cum.”
chan wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you into him as ecstasy takes over the entirety of your body. you shake and tremble in his hold as he whispers sweet nothings and praises in your ear. his fingers slow to help you ride out your orgasm and he hums as your legs continue to shiver at his sides. he thrusts his fingers in once, twice, before he pulls them out, pulling away from the embrace to lick his fingers clean. he groans in delight.
you’re panting as you push chan onto the bed, getting on top of him before pressing your swollen lips onto his. naturally, his hands fall onto your hips as your lips move in sync. you run your hand down his clothed chest, the satin feeling supple against your fingertips. your desire, fuelled by the adrenaline surging through your veins, makes you whimper as you pop open the remaining buttons of chan’s polo.
every pop is significant to the way the both of you are letting yourselves go, baring your bodies and souls to each other after years of not being able to, after years of merely hoping. your heart pounds as you rip open chan’s polo, sighing as his torso shines underneath the light streaming inside the bedroom. chan pulls you back into his lips with a gentle hand on the back of your neck.
chan’s lips are soft on yours and you let yourself get carried away as you cup his face. chan hums as he sits up to remove his polo, lips not moving away from yours. he throbs in between your thighs and you gasp. chan takes this opportunity to slip his tongue to connect with yours and the both of you create a new language in the process.
“you’re so beautiful, y/n,” he whines as the both of you pull away. “you’ve always been so beautiful.”
you blush, your hand caressing his cheek gently as you utter a soft ‘thank you’. you share one more quick kiss before your hand moves down his torso to start unbuckling his pants. “let me return the favor.”
“no,” chan answers, reaching down to hold your wrist. “you don’t need to.”
“baby—“
he tightens his hold on your wrist as he pleads softly, “please. you always take care of me, y/n.” he leans up to mutter on your lips, “let me do that for you tonight.”
you weren’t strong enough to refuse the offer and you let chan raise you up from his lap, only to be lied down on the bed once more. you relax into the mattress as chan positions himself in between your legs. as he unbuckles his belt, your mind travels to the moment in the car and you can’t help but wonder—
“you meant what you said earlier, right?”
chan’s eyes are on you immediately as he hears your voice, his hands stopping. “of course, i did.”
“you didn’t just say that to get in my pants?”
chan bites his lip to suppress a laugh and he shakes his head as his hands resume their task earlier. “no,” he giggles. “if that was my plan the whole time, i would have just said ‘hey, i’m bang chan’ and your pants would have slid right off.”
you throw your head back onto the pillows as you laugh softly. “that didn’t happen when you interviewed me.”
“yeah, well,” chan mumbles, sliding out of his pants, “it’s happening now.”
“8 years after, but okay.”
“it’s still happening, so my point still stands,” chan shrugs, chuckling when he sees you cross your arms in front of your chest. “i’m sorry,” he laughs as he leans down to kiss you. “i’m kidding.”
“you’re so full of yourself, babe,” you tease.
your smile disappears when chan’s cock springs out of his boxers, thick and hard, with the tip red and glistening as pre-cum leaks out of it. the base is adorned with his veins, prominent enough to show up in the darkness. his cock twitches and your mouth opens, salivating at the sight of him.
when you look back up, you let your eyes take in chan and you marvel at him, basking in the presence of a man whose body looks like it has been sculpted by the Gods up above. shoulders broad, muscles defined, your core throbs and tightens at the promise of getting to have him tonight.
it was here that you understood that you didn’t need to be swept off of your feet or be brought to anywhere else fancy when bang chan, in all of his glory, is no place you’ve ever been to. you’re more than willing to get to know him tonight and let him take you where he pleased.
“you’re about to be full of me in a second,” he jokes, smirking. his cheeks turn pink and you try your best to ignore the fondness brewing in your stomach. despite putting on his confident facade, you know chan is as nervous as you are. “lie back.”
you rest your back on the sheets below you, your legs opening to welcome chan in between them for the second time tonight. the feeling of his hands on the side of your body awakens something feral in you and before you can process the reaction, you buck your hips up onto him, your wet core brushing his hard cock. he groans as he pulls away, spitting on his palm before smearing it all over his member. you lick your lip before reaching up to hold his nape once more.
“ready?” he asks as he pumps himself, lining himself up in front of your core.
you feel as if you’re walking a tightrope when he asks you the question. one misstep and you’re falling into everything that encapsulated him, into everything that was bang chan. were you ready to let go and let him overwhelm you? after 8 long years, you finally let your foot slip and the next thing you know, you’re looking back up at chan, hand squeezing his shoulder as you say,
“ready as i’ll ever be, baby.”
it’s as if the gates of heaven opened when chan pushes himself in you, the both of your moans creating a melodic symphony that echoes in the bedroom. his girth parts your walls and the feeling burns ever so slightly. you whimper as you bite your lip, throwing your head back onto the pillows. a comforting hand rests on your waist as he stops at his thickest.
“you’re so big,” you choke out. he hums as he leans down to bury his face in your neck to smile against it. chan presses a soft kiss on your skin as he bottoms out, groaning softly when your cunt clenches around him. you put a hand on his back, pressing his skin as he pulls out fully. he pushes back in roughly, the sound of his balls hitting your skin echoing in the whole room. you claw at his back as you arch yours, gasping, and he grunts softly.
chan starts thrusting, his skin grinding against your swollen nub. “your pussy’s so tight, babe,” he moans. you sigh in response as your legs wrap around his torso, pushing him in you even deeper. you needed him, you wanted him, and you’re here to make sure you get to experience bang chan in ways you’ve never experienced him. it doesn’t matter how many he’s had before you. what matters is that he’s in you now, thrusting his cock and taking you to heaven.
“you’re so good,” you praise, voice cracking as a whine comes out. “you’re so good to me.”
“yeah?” chan breathes, a smug smile forming on his lips. his chest heaves as he continues to ram into you. his skin is hot against yours and you drown in the feeling and in his scent. “you’ve thought about this before, haven’t you?” you whine in response. “such a dirty mind for a refined secretary. ”
chan bites down on your shoulder before slowing his thrusts, raising his head from your neck. “turn around.”
it doesn’t register quickly, but once it does, you’re off of his cock to get on fours, planting your hands on the soft mattress and arching your back to expose yourself to chan. he groans behind you, hovering over you as he puts a hand on the headboard in front of you.
“tell me what you want,” chan whispers, pressing a soft kiss on your shoulder.
“baby, please,” you cry. “you know.”
chan snickers, pushing only the tip of his cock in. “i need to hear you say it.”
“chan—“
“tell me, baby. tell me what you want.”
“your cock, chan. please, i want it. i need it. i want to feel you inside me, please. pl—“
chan squeezes your hips before pounding his cock inside of you. you cry out his name, throwing your head back as your eyes close. you get lost in chan’s grunts, letting them wrap themselves around your body the way chan’s arm snakes around your waist. he pulls your body back into him, your back flushing against his chest. the sounds of your slick coating chan’s cock as he continues to ram into you rings in your ears and you feel your clit ache below you.
“god, baby,” chan grunts. “it’s like my cock’s made for you.”
you whine at his words, your hand making its way down to rub circles on your clit. chan growls softly, removing his hand from the headboard to hold your wrist.
“let me,” he mutters. “let me take you there.”
you weren’t about to say no.
the promise of an orgasm looms on you as chan draws rough circles on your clit. his thrusts start to syncopate from his rhythm and he pushes you back down on the bed gently. you bury your face on his soft sheets and you turn your head to the side as you moan and whine an incoherent mess of praises and curses. you grip the sheets as you spread your legs apart and your thighs start to shake as chan presses his fingers down on your clit.
“baby,” you rasp, tears forming in the corner of your eyes, “i can’t—“
chan grunts, “you want to cum for me again?”
“yes, please, please, pl—“
“gush on my cock, baby. let me feel you.”
it’s pure ecstasy when you do, letting yourself go in the pleasure of everything that was bang chan—his moans, grunts, breathing, cock, everything. you cry out into his sheets and grip them until your knuckles turn white. your legs try to close as your whole body shakes and just like the first time, chan takes you to a place you’ve never been, your vision turning blurry as he continues to pound you. your toes curl as you moan his name, like it’s the only word in your vocabulary. behind you, chan whines softly.
“where do you want me to cum?”
you don’t respond immediately, body shaking in the aftermath of your orgasm. “inside,” you pant. “give it to me.”
chan cries, “jesus, fuck.” he loses his rhythm completely as he leans over you, his sweat falling on your back. “shit, y/n, baby, i— ”
he thrusts a few more times before he grabs your hips, pulling you into him with a groan as he spills his cum, hot and sticky, inside of you. your pussy clamps down on his cock as he grinds inside you to ride his high out, his hand finding its way to the dip of your back. he pulls out after a short while and you whine at the emptiness that comes with it. you do, however, feel both of your juices seep out of you, dripping down on his bed sheets.
“what a sight,” chan mutters behind you as you let your body fall on the bed. you giggle softly as you close your legs, the high wearing down as your body starts to feel heavy. you have a feeling you’d be sore tomorrow, but the both of you weren’t expecting many to come into work, anyway. so, you’ll end up getting away with it. for now. the bed dips beside you and chan pulls you into him, your back against his chest.
for a moment, you listen to his breathing and focus on the way his fingers lied on your stomach. your eyes start to grow heavy, but you hear chan whisper, “are you okay?”
“i am,” you respond softly, turning around to face him. once your eyes meet, chan smiles as he tucks a hair strand on the back of your ear. his hair is disheveled and wet with sweat, but still, chan looked as well put together as he always does. you lean up to kiss him, your lips moving slowly on each other. when you pull away, chan’s eyes are twinkling and he lets out a soft hum of satisfaction.
“so,” you mumble, playfully tapping his bottom lip, “are we still going to work tonight?”
chan groans, throwing his head back with a chuckle. “it can wait.”
“no. it can’t,” you tease, pressing a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth. chan’s arms around your waist tighten as he pulls you closer.
“don’t use my words against me,” chan grins. he places his hand on the back of your head, lightly stroking your hair. your eyes grow heavy and the next thing you know, you’re wavering in between falling asleep and staying awake.
you do hear chan’s voice in the midst of all of this, a soft and gentle, “hey, i love you.” you feel him kiss your forehead before you blissfully fall into oblivion.
you wake up when chan’s bedroom door bursts open, the door handle hitting the wall.
you raise your head, squinting as you watch chan come in with a tray of food. the aroma hits your nose immediately and your stomach growls softly. he gives you a quick, apologetic smile as he puts the tray down at the edge of the bed.
“good morning,” he greets, running a hand through his hair. he sits down beside the tray and he grins. your eyes travel down his figure, the black formal polo from last night is on his torso again, paired with the boxers, you could only assume, he was wearing last night.
friday, a new work day for the two of you. “good morning to you too, sir,” you mumble before rubbing your eyes. your chest stings from all of the marks from last night and you wince. chan lets out a soft hum, reaching out to hold your hand in his.
“did you sleep well?”
“yeah. thanks to you,” you tease. chan runs his thumb on your palm, inhaling as he looks up at you, cheeks pink.
a comfortable silence falls in the room as the both of you sit in each other’s company. it was overwhelming enough that you woke up in chan’s bed, but now he’s cooked you breakfast, plated it, and put it on a tray to bring to you. it didn’t even occur to you that he knew how to cook. you smile to yourself as you realize— you didn’t know everything about him yet. you part your lips to speak, but you didn’t notice chan doing the same.
“listen—“
“chan—“
“oh, you go firs—“
“no, you can—“
the two of you huff simultaneously, laughing at each other. “you go first,” you giggle. chan nods, coughing into his fist with a smile.
“about last night,” he starts, “i hope i didn’t hurt you too much.”
you look down at your chest playfully as you shrug. “it’s no big deal,” you hum. “i enjoyed it.” chan chuckles in response. he watches as you reach over to the plate, letting go of his hand as you bring the plate to your lap. “did you enjoy?” you question.
“yeah, of course,” chan responds immediately. “what’s not to enjoy? i mean, you were spectacular.”
“i could say the same to you, mister ‘no, i can’t wait anymore’.” you joke. chan’s cheeks flush as he scratches the back of his head sheepishly. you dig in your breakfast as chan does the same, the both of you eating in silence. you rest your back on the headboard and you watch chan. his hair is made already and he looks like he’s ready to start the work day. you bite your lip as you look down, your body merely being covered by the duvet. suddenly, memories of last night flood your mind and you sigh softly.
chan catches it immediately.
“y/n?”
“where does this lead us?” you ask, putting down your utensils. “you know, this—“ you motion between the two of you—“whatever this is.” you didn’t know what answer you’re waiting for, but you hope it’s positive.
chan thinks for a moment and the silence is deafening. he puts his hand on your thigh, putting down his plate beside him. “we can tell the office that we’re dating or...” he trails off, looking up at the ceiling, “we can keep this between us for now.”
your eyes widen, coughing as you struggle to come up with an answer. you and chan were together now? chan mentioned the word already, right? his eyes grow worried and he comes over to stroke your back. “did i say something wrong?”
“no, god, no, i just didn’t expect—“
“that i liked you back?” chan furrows his eyebrows. “i think last night was proof enough, baby.”
you blush, covering your face in your hands. chan chuckles softly as he leans over to move your hands away. “we can figure it out as we go,” he hums. “you don’t need to give me an answer right now, okay?”
you nod, your mind in shambles. your breath hitches as chan presses a kiss on your wrist. he looks up at you, “once we’re done eating, we can start the day.” you blink at him and he merely laughs.
“are you even ready for today?” he asks, tilting his head to the side, a smile on his lips.
the question hits you in many different ways, your mind travelling back to the last words you heard from him last night. are you ready to finally be with chan after all these years? you scan his face, taking him in as his smile reaches his eyes. chan looked beautiful and you know you wouldn’t be anywhere else, wouldn’t be with anyone else because all you needed is in front of you and he always has been. both of you were just too stupid to admit it to yourselves.
you straighten your back, clear your throat, throw your disheveled hair behind your shoulder, and smile at him.
“ready as i’ll ever be.”
#kim tries to write#skz#stray kids#bang chan x reader#bang chan smut#bang chan imagines#skz imagines#stray kids fanfics#kpop scenarios#kpop imagines#bang chan#kpop fanfic#skz smut#bang chan fanfic#skzstorynet
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The Gentle Giant's Breaking Point (Shoji x Reader)
Art credit: @tonerukun
Requested by: @/smol_angry_rabbit on wattpad
Aged-Up!AU
Warnings: explicit smut, size kink, dirty talk, hickeys, cursing, being overpowered and completely dominated, unprotected sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, tender aftercare and soft confession
Words: 6.4k
In downtown Musutafu, Shoji, Tokoyami and Ojiro were wandering around the city packed with people on a bright, sunny day. A gentle breeze blew by, swirling around the hundreds of people who decided to get some fresh air for the first time in weeks.
The second the weather warmed up, food stalls and all sorts of vendors were back on the streets. Mouthwatering scents of sesame soba, senbei and taiyaki curled deliciously into the air and wafted over to everyone within the vicinity, enticing them over to buy the scrumptious street food.
At the first sight of spring, the students of UA scattered, all eager to spend their off day outside.
Kaminari, Bakugou, Kirishima and Ashido all went to the pool, the rest of Class 1-A following in a slow trickle.
It first was Hagakure who wanted to tag along, then Uraraka, then reluctantly Jirou followed by the rest of the girls.
Midoriya sheepishly asked if he could come along too, Todoroki following suit since he'd rather be anywhere than at an empty dorm and end up having to go home to his father.
Mineta was only allowed to come with Sero's tape restricting his hands and covering his eyes. He complained the whole way there that it was unfair but no one paid any attention to him.
Shoji let his arms fall to his sides as he strolled around downtown, following Tokoyami.
He hadn't particularly wanted to go anywhere, preferring to stay in the dorms. He didn't know when was the last time where it had actually been quiet. Not since before they moved in.
He didn't really have any complaints about his classmates. If anything, he was rather happy to live in a dormitory. It meant he got to see a lot more of you.
You were best friends with him, preferring to keep to yourself most of the time, just like him.
Maybe that's why you got along so well.
Shoji never tried to bother you but it was inevitable when the last class of the day would be dismissed and everyone paired off or huddled up in their groups to talk about anything and everything. He would just be at his desk, pulling out a book or getting started on his homework so he didn't have to worry about it later and you would come over, plop yourself down in the empty desk next to him and start reading a book without a word.
He didn't mind. He rather liked your company. It was quiet. It was nice.
He was going to ask you if you wanted to come with him, Tokoyami and Ojiro today but you were gone when he woke up. At least he had your number and he messaged you to make sure you were okay.
You responded back pretty quickly that everything was fine, you just had to take care of something first and then you'd meet them at the beach.
Shoji thought nothing of it. So when Ojiro asked if he wanted to come along with them downtown because Tokoyami needed to pick up more art supplies before their next class, he readily agreed.
He honestly didn't expect to see you there, let alone run into you. Literally.
You panted, rounding the corner, your eyes round with fear as adrenaline pumped through your veins. But you weren't watching where you were going.
Crashing into someone's very solid chest, your force knocked them over, sending the two of you toppling over instantly.
Springing up, you quickly apologized. "I'm so sorry!!"
All else blanked from your head as you saw who it was you exactly landed on and your jaw dropped open.
"Shoji?!"
Suppressing a groan, he sat up, encircling your waist carefully to ensure you wouldn't fall.
His brow furrowed in confusion as he helped the two of you up into a standing position, completely ignoring Ojiro and Tokoyami's questioning stares. "What are you doing?"
You opened your mouth to answer him when all of the sudden, you were hit by a blinding light.
Various enraged cries echoed from the alley you had just rushed out of.
"Get back here!!!"
"Shoot." You muttered under your breath. "My paralysis wore off."
"You're using your quirk?!" Ojiro exclaimed in shock. "You know that's against the rules!!!"
You ushered everybody into the nearest store hastily, hiding behind All Might merchandise to keep out of sight. "You want to lecture me now or after we call the police?"
While Tokoyami dialed for the local police, Shoji shifted closer to you, using his dupli-arms to hide you from view.
"Who are they?" He asked you.
He knew you weren't the type to go around causing trouble. If you had used your quirk, it had to be because you were cornered with no way out. He knew you.
And judging by that foreign, hesitant look in your eyes, you knew it, too.
"It's nothing, I'm fine." You mumbled under your breath, refusing to look at him.
Shoji didn't say anything else on the matter, dropping it entirely when a shadow passed over him.
You squeezed your eyes shut and held your breath as the men searched for you, your breath hitching when Shoji's grip around you tightened protectively. Too many times you had imagined his arms around you but this was a scenario you didn't exactly picture.
The sirens wailing outside had you relaxing the tiniest bit, the rest of the tension leaving your body as the police arrested the three men using their quirks to create destruction.
Shoji didn't let you go quite yet though. Not until he was sure every last one of them left.
Pulling back, he allowed you to slip out of his arms. And that's when he saw it.
The blood.
The cut on your cheek was smeared with crimson and he questioned how he didn't notice that sooner.
Cradling your cheek, he angled your face, his jaw ticking as he got a better look at your injury.
"Y/N."
You gulped as he used your first name without any honorific. You knew he meant business and your heart fluttered at how much he seemed to care for you in that moment.
You shoved down your feelings, forcing yourself to breathe normally, dreading that he would notice how nervous you were.
It wasn't that you really had anything to be anxious about, you knew Shoji would never judge you for any reason. Kind-hearted despite how often he had gotten teased when he was younger, he never let it affect him in any way other than pushing him towards his best self.
You always admired that about it.
Shoji was such a gentle giant and you were one of the few he told about his past and what ultimately led him to striving to become a hero.
Which is why you were so caught off guard by the anger simmering beneath the surface of his eyes as he tended to the abrasion on your cheek.
The officers contained the situation quickly, arresting those that were causing chaos. The same gang of boys who were responsible for your injuries. Tokoyami and Ojiro filed out of your makeshift hiding place first, reporting what you had seen before Shoji helped you up and they turned your attention to you.
All three of their expressions changed from quelled worry to disbelief as you denied all allegations they had clearly made against you.
Still, the police officers couldn't go against it if you didn't even admit to it but brought the boys down to the station for processing. They would be able to fit the pieces together later once the camera footage of the convenience store was recovered. Until then, they let you go.
After you refused medical treatment when the police arrived on the scene, absolutely hating hospitals, you trekked back to the dormitory to sort out your injuries.
They were rather mild and you weren't worried about it at all. The hero-in-training hovering over you though, said otherwise.
You sat on one of the many couches in the common area of Heights Alliance so that he could patch you up. It was a good thing that the dorms were empty since everyone was gone for the rare off day that they got.
Shoji had ushered Ojiro and Tokoyami to go on without him to meet up with the rest of their class at the beach, promising that he would look after you and make sure that you didn't actually need a hospital.
But you also thought it was to make sure you weren't going to do anything reckless again.
He had already scolded you for not taking your wounds seriously enough and insisted on treating them, which was a bit weird because he never was one for insisting on anything unless he felt strongly enough about it.
The atmosphere was tense as he put away the rest of the medical supplies, settling for a simple butterfly closure after he cleaned the area.
Now, he was staring at you as if he wanted to devour you. Heat flooded to your lower regions no matter how hard you tried to stop it. It was clear that he was frustrated, borderline angry and upset with you for reasons unclear to you but hope kindled in your heart.
There was no way he liked you like that. He never said anything about it before.
Regardless, no one should look that good while they were enraged. The silent fury simmering beneath the surface of his being was too good of a look on him.
"Are you going to tell me what that was all about?" Shoji questioned, peeling off his mask and revealed a deep-seated frown etched on his face.
Your breath caught in your throat. No matter how many times you saw his face, it never failed to take your breath away and stop time completely.
He was beautiful.
"I-I—" You stammered, at a loss for words due to his vulnerability in front of you. He clearly trusted you a great deal. You wanted to return the gesture.
Your heart rate spiked in nervousness and you swallowed hard.
Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, your voice got quieter and more solemn as you told him about these people who had been bullying your little brother. Your parents weren't in the picture, and since your aunt, who had taken the two of you in, didn't care much other than making sure you were fed and attending school, you knew you couldn't depend on her for help.
You had been bullied too, something you told your brother the second you walked in one weekend and he burst into tears. You felt horrible. At UA, you were too far away to protect him, but you promised you'd do something about it.
Logically, you knew you should've gone to the authorities. But you were just so blinded by rage and hell bent on revenge for these boys who had struck him across the face and punched him in the eye more than once that you weren't going to let it go on for a second longer.
Shoji was silent when you finished. You played with your fingers in your lap, unsure of what to do. Maybe you talked too much.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
Your head snapped up and you gaped. You didn't have an answer for him.
Shoji sighed and his eyes saddened. "You can rely on me, on our friends. We would have helped you."
You looked back down, his gaze too intense for you to hold. He was staring at you too earnestly and you felt the hurt that resonated within him at the actions you didn't take to reach out towards him.
"I know." You whispered. "But I didn't want any of you to get involved."
A discontented noise emitted from the back of his throat and Shoji's mouth pressed in a hard line, clearly disagreeing with you but not voicing it.
The silence turned uncomfortable and you shifted in place, discreetly rubbing your thighs together as a shiver passed through your body.
Your eyes widened as he draped his shawl over you. You gulped as Shoji bulking form loomed over you, your heart now beating faster for another reason entirely.
"S-Shoji?!"
"Mezo..." He murmured. "We're alone. You can call me Mezo."
This wasn't anything new, you had already been comfortable enough to call him by his given name when the two of you were on your own but this was the first time he had requested you to say it before you got a chance to speak it.
He beat you to the punch. How unlike him.
You blushed, arching your back into his touch as he gripped your waist and drew you close to him to warm you up, heat flooding to your lower regions without permission at his low voice. "Mezo."
He groaned, his head falling into the crook of your neck at how intimate his name sounded when it fell from your lips. Physical affection wasn't rare between you two, but it largely remained platonic.
Until now. He couldn't suppress it any longer.
Capturing your lips in a heated kiss, he moved over you, unable to stop himself from pinning you to the couch.
"Ahh~" You moaned as he detached himself from your lips, keening as he continued down, pushing his jacket out of the way for better access to your neck. You weren't against this, but it was going too fast. You wanted him to slow down so that you could at least see him. "M-Mezo, w-wait..."
Stifling a groan, he reluctantly parted from your skin, catching your gaze.
Worried he had made you uncomfortable, he questioned, "Do you not want this?"
After you shook your head so violently that he was surprised you didn't knock into anything, he raised an eyebrow when you didn't express anything else.
"Then what's wrong?" Shoji asked lowly, voice gravelly and giving away just how much of an effect you had on him.
You bit your lip shyly at how you probably looked. Spread out for him, flushed to the core and panting. Your mind was racing. He had kissed you.
"S-Someone could walk in," You objected, stammering as you were only half aware that you guys were in the common area. "Don't you think we should— holy shit!!"
While you were protesting, he took the opportunity to latch onto the sweet spot under your neck, sucking harshly.
You couldn't help but whimper, your hands splayed against his broad chest as he continued to paint your skin with splotches of purple and pink.
"Mezo, come on, we should— eep!!"
Fed up with your objections as it hindered his passionate onslaught to your supple skin, Shoji hooked your legs around his waist, his huge hands cupping your ass as he practically sprinted to his room.
This time, your lips descended onto his, connecting the two of you together all the way there. You rocked against his hard-on pressed in between your bodies, moaning into his mouth as your core throbbed with need.
A growl ripped from the back of his throat as you did, and he leaned down to lay you on his bed, never separating himself from you for a second.
Cupping his face with both of your hands, you parted your lips, letting him explore your hot cavern. He slotted his body between your hips.
The two of you groaned in tandem as one of your hands slithered down to cup the stiff bulge and you whimpered when he pressed his knee against your clothed core. The pressure made slick pool in your panties and caused it to stick uncomfortably to your wet folds.
"Y/N..." He breathed shakily, his eyes clouded, giving away how much you affected him. "Can I—"
"Yes, please." You cut him off, unable to wait a second longer. "Please, Mezo, fuck me?"
Shoji's eyes widened and his cock got impossibly harder, straining against the confinements of his pants as he heard you beg for him. Beg for his cock to fill you up.
Fuck, that was so hot.
Your core was already throbbing with the need to have him inside of you. If he didn't do something soon you were sure you were going to combust.
Seeing his hesitancy as his fingers danced along the waistband of your pants, you quickly got tired of waiting and undressed by yourself, throwing your clothes in an uncaring heap onto the floor.
His eyes grew round in awe as your bare skin, breasts and that special place between your legs was revealed for him to freely drink in as you laid out before him, not an ounce of shame coloring your cheeks, save for the pink tips of your ears.
Cute.
Your back arched as his mouth latched onto one of your nipples, his big hands kneading the soft flesh, going harder when your response spurred him on. You whined as he flicked the pebbled tit, crying out as he bit down on it gently, a shock shooting through your system.
Shoji was studying every single one of your reactions to his touch, drinking it up as his eyes devoured you with barely restrained hunger.
"So... you like to be treated roughly..." He mused as he pulled upwards, your body following his touch as he let go of your breasts abruptly. "That's very interesting."
You whimpered in protest but that faded as he took his shirt off, the defined and sculpted muscle enough to make you forget what you were about to complain about. He was ripped, his torso flexing powerfully as he threw his shirt in the direction of the growing pile of clothes.
Licking your lips, you pulled him down to his level as he hastily undid the button of his pants, shoving it just past his hips so that his cock sprang free.
Your jaw dropped. He wasn't wearing underwear?!
Aside from that, he was fucking huge. How was even going to fit inside of you?!
You weren't given any time to dwell on his size as a finger probed your entrance. Your hands shot down to his wrist instinctively.
"M-Mezo, I'm s-sensitive—!!"
You cut off with a cry as he slipped it in, stretching you out.
Shoji closed his eyes, trying to restrain himself but you were just so hot and tight, pulsing around his finger like nothing else he ever felt.
"Is it too much?" He asked caringly, kissing you to ease you through it. You were unbelievable tight, he could already feel you clenching down on his single digit. "Do you want to stop?"
If your mind wasn't clouded with lust, you would've picked up on the subtle teasing lilt of his voice, as though he already knew what you were going to say.
"No..." You protested, squeezing your eyes shut, unknowingly doing exactly what he expected.
You could take it. You wanted him to make you take it.
Your eyes widened as he cursed behind you and that was when you realized that you said that last part out loud.
Oops. You were really in for it now.
You gasped in surprise as his hands released your wrists, but it was only temporary as he hooked your legs around his waist before he was immobilizing you again. Struggling slightly even though you were clearly overpowered, you begged for him to let you touch him before you died but he refused, shutting you up with a passionate kiss that stole your breath away.
Your body lurched and you wailed as he finally sank into your cunt, moaning and panting like a dog in heat as he sheathed his massive member all the way inside of your spasming channel.
A broken whimper of his name fell from your lips as his hips finally pressed flush against your ass, mewling as his balls rested against your puckered hole. You buried your face into his neck, ashamed of your reaction. He had barely done anything yet and already you felt like you were on the brink of cumming.
"Mezo—" You warned breathlessly, mouth gaping at the sheer size of him, your hole struggling to adjust. "Ngh!!"
Shoji braced himself up on his forearms, swearing under his breath as you clamped down around him. His fingers laced with yours from where he was still pinning your arms over your head, bending down to kiss you in order to distract you from the stretch.
You were hot, tight, and squeezing him with so much force, he already felt like he was going to cum. Stuttering out your name, he hissed as you clenched around him again.
"Y-Y/N, stop— don't do that." He begged, one of his hands fisting in your hair as he held onto his last thread of restraint while you adjusted to his size.
"C-Can't help it, Mezo." You whimpered, scratching his broad back as you fought the urge to arch your hips, knowing that was just going to encourage him to move before you were ready. "You... You're so big."
He had never prided himself on things like this, by how much he received praise or compliments from others so that he didn't have to question the authenticity of it, preferring most times to simply acknowledge it then let it go so that it didn't go to his head.
But he couldn't help it with you. There was something about the way you said it that ignited a flame of passion inside of him and it could not be put out.
Your nails dug into his back and a moan ripped from your throat as you felt him swell inside of you, catching on your walls without even trying.
"M-Mezo?!" You cried out in shock. "Why are you getting, oh fuck—"
A guttural groan sounded in the empty space and he let go of you, straightening up.
"You're so tight and warm." Shoji moaned, his left hand fisting the sheets as he gave a few experimental rolls of his hips, the other caressing your hip while his eyes fixated on where the two of you were joined together. "You feel like heaven, Y/N."
You squeaked in mortification as he said that, clapping a hand over your mouth as he thrusted into you harder, unable to contain the sounds spilling out of your mouth any longer. He felt so good inside of you. Pulsing and hot, thick and hard, it was a wonder how you were delirious with pleasure on his cock.
"Fuck..." You hissed through clenched teeth, your eyes tightly screwed shut.
Shoji stilled instantly, worried he had hurt you. His eyes scanned over your flushed face in concern.
"Are you alright? Do you want to stop?" He asked quickly and would've pulled out of you if your legs didn't lock around his hips, preventing him from even thinking about it a second longer.
You desperately shook your head then yanked him down to your level.
"Go fast, Mezo, fuck me hard." You pleaded. "Please."
There was no time to feel embarrassed by the words that came out of your mouth as he obliged instantly. Stars blinded your vision and you arched into his touch as he fucked you with a vigor that wasn't present before.
Shoji slammed your wrists down above your head and he kissed you hard, all of it teeth and tongue as he licked away your whimpers before they could break the symphony of wet skin slapping against skin that broke through the still atmosphere of his room.
Both of you were glad everyone was gone for the day because with how much noise you were making, it was clear what was going on.
His lips glossed over your pulse point, licking and sucking at the flushed skin there, marking you once again.
You shivered at the sensation of having him pressed against you and yet still attending to you with the same care you had come to expect from him. Your best friend now turned lover. If this was going to be more than a one-time deal.
"Mezo!!" You cried out as he finally pulled away from your neck, satisfied with the purple that bloomed there.
Shoji's teeth sank into your shoulder as he came deep inside of you, painting your walls with hot, thick and sticky ropes of cum.
You whimpered as he emptied in your ripe cunt, his release setting off yours and the powerful shockwaves of your orgasm crashed over you like a tsunami, causing your body to tremble uncontrollably. The copious amounts of his cum leaked out the instant he pulled out of you and your hole fluttered, no longer having his length to stuff you to the brim. You felt a bit sad now that you were left empty, and sat up, thinking that you guys were done.
How wrong you were.
You didn't have to look down to see that he was still hard as his cock pressed against your inner thigh the moment he kissed you again.
"Mezo?!" You shrieked, moaning wantonly against his lips as he moved over you once more. "How are you still hard?!"
He groaned, obviously in discomfort for having been denied even though he just came. "I'm sorry, Y/N, I need to cum again to make it go down."
Your tongue darted out to wet your lips at the sight of the leaking head and you moved to try and suck him off, wanting nothing more than the taste of him on your tongue as he shot his last load inside your mouth but he shook his head and stopped you short.
"You don't have to do that." Shoji said quickly, his cheeks flushing pink as he imagined you with your ass up as your cheeks were stuffed with his cock. Fuck, you'd look so good like that. But he had something else in mind.
Your eyes had glazed over a long time ago from the pleasure that he delivered to your system.
"I want to." You implored, batting your eyes at him, pupils blown wide.
Shoji surged forward, kissing you harder than last time and you melted into his touch. Any other time, he wouldn't fight you on it. But he didn't want to make you work any harder, even if it looked like you really wanted to suck him off. For now, he was content just to see you like this.
Spread out in front of him for only his eyes to see.
"Can you lay like this, Y/N?" He asked, gently maneuvering you onto your tummy and perking your rear up as a hand trailed down your spine to get you into the position he wanted to see you in. "I'll finish quickly."
You moaned quietly, still turned on and horny from before. Even though he had satisfied you so completely, there was a part of you that still longed to have him again.
You wanted him to stuff his cock in you like this.
So you couldn't help but mess with him a bit as the slick sounds of him jerking himself off started and breathy moans fell from his lips. You could go another round for him.
Poking out your ass a bit more, you smiled to yourself as his breath hitched and his movements stuttered. Swaying it from side to side purposefully to entice him, you were shocked when it worked a little too well, bringing out the beast in the tame boy that was your best friend.
Your eyes shot open and your jaw dropped open in a soundless cry as he pushed into you without warning, sinking his fat cock balls-deep into your pussy still quivering with the aftershocks of your last orgasm.
"Mezo!! Ahhh—" You cried out, caught off guard but unbelievably turned on so much that it filled you with shame.
A messy mixture of your juices and his thick cum pushed out of you as he rammed into you all the way to the hilt and all the oxygen disappeared from your lungs.
The sloppy sounds of your cunt making as he fucked you into his bed had you gripping onto his pillow and slamming it against your face to curb all the noises that were tearing from your throat.
It was yanked out of your grasp a second later.
"Don't hide, let me hear you." Shoji begged, unable to help himself from shoving his cock into the deepest parts of your little cunny. You looked so pretty spread out underneath him like this, at his mercy entirely as he pinned you down. Your arousal ran down your thighs as he continued to fuck you, his fat cock stuffing your hole perfectly.
Like you were made for him.
He threw his head back, he redoubled his efforts to make you feel as good as your pussy was making him feel.
"You look so beautiful when you're taking my cock like this." Shoji whispered to himself in awe, disbelieving that his dream was finally coming true after all this time as he watched his length disappear into you over and over again, completely entranced. "Feels so good, hhgh—!!"
Your hole fluttered around his thick girth, struggling to take his size as he pumped in and out of you at an alarming speed.
Whining, you could do nothing else but take it as he pounded you raw and rough, his hips slapping into your ass with a vigor that blanked your mind and left you gasping at the sensation.
Your wrists, still pinned down by his hands as his duplicated gripped your hips for stability as he got you closer to that peak, strained against his strength as the pressure built up in your stomach. "Mezo...'m gonna... gonna—"
"Gonna cum for me, pretty girl? Cream your cunny on my cock?" Shoji murmured, reducing his thrusts to sharp ruts, focusing all his attention on that little spot that made you see stars. "C'mon, give me one more. I need it."
That did it.
Your orgasm washed over you and your eyes rolled into the back of your head, your body trembling violently as he continued to push your limits, pumping in and out of you erratically before emptying himself into you with a deep groan.
Face flushed and eyes glassy, stilling rolling back from the throws of the intensity of your orgasm, you panted, twisting back to meet him in a kiss much softer and more loving than all the previous ones.
Now that his pent up frustration had been dealt with in the best possible way, he pulled out of you with a soft grunt, kissing you wordlessly when you whined at the loss of him.
Shoji hushed you softly as he cleaned the mess dripping out of you with a warm washcloth, urging you to go to the bathroom.
You couldn't stand up though, lacking the strength after that very thorough dicking down he gave you. Legs like jelly, you would've collapsed to the floor if he didn't catch you in time, pulling you up to his chest to carry you the rest of the way.
You hid your face in the crook of his neck as he took care of you, seeing as how all your energy was depleted. Slapping his chest halfheartedly in embarrassment as he chuckled when you jolted as he cleaned the sore but achingly sensitive bud between your legs.
Shoji nudged your ear with his nose, murmuring softly. "Are you alright?"
You hummed, eyelids heavy as you started to drift off.
He kissed the top of your head before bringing you back to bed so that you could take a nap. Somewhere between the walk from his bathroom to his bed, you stirred, arising from your light slumber only to be met with a concerned expression.
"Calm down, Mezo," You giggled, pecking him on the lips softly. "I'm good."
His shoulders slumped in relief. He was kind of worried he had broken you after a session like that. Scratching the back of his neck once you laid down, he hesitated before speaking.
"Don't worry me like that again. You're too reckless for your own good." He told you, anxiety resting heavy on his features.
You wiggled your eyebrows at him suggestively. "I don't know... That was a pretty good punishment if you ask me."
Shoji rolled his eyes but a hint of a smile played upon his lips. "I'm serious, Y/N."
Your smile disappeared and you nodded solemnly, sheepish now that you had been chastised.
"I know, I'm sorry." You apologized quietly, remorseful. You hadn't meant to worry him or any of them really. You honestly thought that you could handle it.
You had fought villains before, you thought you could tame a few punk kids who were bullying your little brother. You almost felt ashamed that they had managed to best you.
The initial idea was to capture them and report them to the authorities, since they were a part of a crew who liked to rob stores for fun, but the tables turned on you when they freely used their quirks on you.
Luckily, you had been able to dodge most of them, only sustaining minor damage from an attack you hadn't avoided in time.
Shoji knelt down by the bedside and your brow furrowed when he didn't climb under the covers with you.
"Mezo?" You squeaked when he engulfed you in a hug, all your insecurities melting away as his warmth flooded you.
He trembled as you said his name but otherwise didn't move. Instead, he mumbled something against your neck and you laughed.
"I can't quite hear you." You teased him, prying him away to get a good look at his eyes. They were swirling with an unknown emotion and you swallowed hard. "What's wrong?"
Shoji stared at you, his gaze boring into your soul as he took down all your walls you had built up around your heart to protect yourself with an ease that shocked you.
"Rely on me." He murmured, lacing his fingers with yours and gulping at how small your hands were compared to his. "I want you to rely on me like..."
You couldn't breathe. It sounded like...
"Like what?" You prompted breathlessly, not daring to hope that he was going to say what you so longed to hear from him.
His cheeks pinked and he turned away from you. "Nothing."
Your heart sank into your chest and you visibly deflated.
"Oh..." You said softly, expression saddening when he refused to look at you.
Gathering the sheets around you to cover your naked body, you suppressed a shiver as the cold air got through and you blindly reached around for your clothes on the floor.
Shoji's mouth pressed in a hard line and he shook his head. Any other time, he would be there to help you but not now. Not when his mind was racing with the possibilities of what could go wrong if he confessed his true feelings for you right here and now.
It was overwhelming him and he felt overtaken by fear that you would reject him, destroying the close friendship you had.
But...
"Y/N."
You straightened up, fumbling with the sheet as it accidentally slipped. But you blushed when Shoji draped his shawl over you, his scent filling your nose and you tripped over your words, thoroughly flustered for some kind of explanation as to why you were reacting like you were back in your first year of high school.
"I like you."
You balked, jaw dropping open in shock.
Shoji actually jumped back, startled as you swore in front of him.
"You're kidding."
His brow furrowed in confusion and he crossed his arms. "No, I'm perfectly serious."
You shook your head. There was no way that he, the coolest, most respectable and kindest guy you have ever met and had the privilege of calling your best friend, liked you back.
But judging by that affronted look on his face, you might've jumped to conclusions too soon.
Warily, you approached him, abandoning the search for your clothes.
You hastily apologized. "I'm sorry, I guess it's hard to believe how someone like you would be interested in me."
Now in front of him, you had a chance to see how much he towered over you. It was different from when you would hang out in each other's rooms where he would crouch down on the floor or sit on a chair so that the height difference wasn't so obvious.
But you felt safe as he curled his arms around you tentatively, even though it was such a contrast to how he was fucking the brains out of you earlier.
"Well, I do." Shoji murmured into your hair as he brought you in for a hug, firm and unyielding in his feelings for you even though you had yet to say anything.
You hadn't said it back but you hadn't shot him down either. He didn't know if it was foolish to hope for a chance that you would want to be with him too, or perhaps, oh no, had he made you uncomfortable?
Maybe you weren't saying anything because you didn't know how to reject—
"I like you too." You mumbled into his chest.
This time, Shoji was the one to do a double take. "Y/N?!"
"Oh hush." You said, hiding your face from his frantic gaze so that he couldn't see how red your face was. Confessing feelings was exhausting and now you wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed with your new boyfriend.
Shoji's chest rumbled underneath your fingertips and just when you thought your face couldn't burn anymore out of embarrassment and shyness, he leaned back and tipped your chin up.
"I'm glad you return my feelings." He smiled, a pure smile that radiated the most wholesome level of happiness possible and your heart skipped a beat.
You found you mirrored his joy instinctively, it was contagious. And when he closed the distance to kiss you once more, it sealed a pact that would stay forever and could never be broken.
"I think I'll have to be more reckless from now on." You breathed when he finally pulled away and a small pout formed on his lips.
"Y/N..." Shoji warned, not finding your joke funny in the slightest.
You giggled, looping your arms around his neck as you stood on your tiptoes, booping his nose with yours. "I'm kidding, but I do think it was worth it."
He raised an eyebrow. "And why is that?"
You grinned, a cheeky smile that told him he hadn't seen the last of your mischief.
"Because it finally got you to confess."
Taglist: @katsukis-sad-angel
#my hero academia#boku no hero academia#my hero academia shoji#shoji#shoji x reader#shoji x reader smut#shoji mezo#mezo shoji#mezou shouji#shouji mezou#shouji x reader#shouji x reader smut#bnha shoji#bnha#bnha oneshot#my hero academia oneshot#shouji oneshot#shoji smut#shouji smut#shoji x reader oneshot#shoji mezo x reader oneshot#boku no hero academia oneshot#bnha shoji x reader#bnha shoji x reader smut#my hero academia smut#bnha smut#mha smut#mha oneshot#bnhacity
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Hello! Could I please have a nsfw cp matchup?
I go by they/she pronouns and am pan sexual with most experience with/leaning towards men
I have shoulder length light brown hair that’s usually up in some type of braid because it’s easier with my work. I’m more on the small side of the spectrum in like every way possible with my 5’3” self
I’m mostly insecure about my shoulders and my voice cause my shoulders look like they belong to a man and my voice sounds like a small child- it’s very complicated lmao
I work within environmental and conservational science so being outdoors and doing fieldwork are what really make me happy. In my spare time I do help out in my community and rescue animals, I currently have 2 horses, 2 cats, 4 frogs and a lizard so they’re pretty much my biggest soft spot
Weird shit i do is my joints pop out a lot so I have to see a chiropractor every few weeks and get them back in place but in the meantime i just crack them myself so I’ll just like stop in the middle of a store aisle and do a backbend because it hurts. I also have a speech impediment so I tend to not speak that much if I’m not comfortable around people but once I am I do not shut up and sometimes mix up syllables or word placement in a sentence and will not notice unless someone tells me. A fan favorite is “I the lawning was mow”
Mega introvert
I am an aquarius sun with a cancer rising and moon
An ideal date would be to let me take them out to a park or something. I find sitting across from someone and doing a traditional dinner date very nerve racking no matter how close I am with someone so like just let me take you on a hike and don’t complain then I will marry you on the spot. Bonus points if you let me ramble on about different plants and stories about random shit my friends and I have done( kind of like I did in this request, sorry)
NSFW
I don’t know if I’d go as far as to call myself a pillow princess but i’m definitely a sub and i cannot make decisions for my life. Will never be able to take control please tell me what to do or else I will not be able to move. Degrading is hot and I like it but praising is just *chefs kiss* I would die. Could be coerced into a ddlg relationship. I am the type to just hide kinks and never say anything and then you mention it once and suddenly im an interesting person. Jealousy, being protective and bREEDING. Those are my big three let me tell ya anyone who got those immediately hot to me no matter what. Breeding is strangely fun to me
A COMPLIMENT! FOR YOU!!
You are doing so well my friend!! Idk what you do outside of tumblr but I am proud of you! ALSO you’re writing! I love it. It’s hard to find writing like this especially from these fandoms that aren’t written by strange horny children and yours are gold!! Thank you for blessing us with such great thoughts!! 💕
I match you with…..💕EYELESS JACK💕
NSFW bellow~
I think Jack would be a great match for you, similar interests and also good for your personality.
Mega introvert you say? Yes well EJ is quite reserved so you don’t have to worry about too much wacky behavior scaring you off. This man absolutely adores you, thinks you are the center of his world, a breath of fresh air from his messed up life. The braid thing is adorable, I know Jack would spend hours learning to braid just for you. If you take him to a park he will try to weave in flowers into your hair, he’s extremely delicate to not hurt you.
The fact that you rescue animals is like WOW for him, he admires you to another level. Thinks your kindness is unmatched. He knows you are special, he will bring you a lizard as a gift too. Probably takes a liking to the lizard and talks to it when you’re not around, refers to you as ‘mommy’ when talking to it. As if you, Jack and the lizard were a little family. Fucking adorable. “I’m gonna give you a treat but you can’t tell mommy ok?” He says, giving it a cricket, as if the lizard could understand.
He gets so worried about your joints, probably nods disapprovingly. Don’t worry about the dinner date though, he might try that further in the relationship but he dosen’t want you to see him eat another human’s kidneys. He does love to hear you ramble, sits patiently and is invested in what you’re saying. If you apologize he probably say “for what? I like hearing you talk”.
(Side note: Don’t you dare fucking apologize for asking something, there’s nothing to be sorry for, I love getting to know my readers)
For the nsfw, he likes to play around and find out what you like. You say you like jealousy, protectiveness AND breeding? Oh damn you’ve got the right guy. He loves watching his seed just settle in your cunt, does not let you move until it’s made it’s way into your womb. He praises you for taking his big cock so well, even though you squirm he will kiss away your tears and tell you how good you’re doing for him. Just for him.
Hope you liked it! Btw, you are valid, and amazing. THANK YOU! You’re too kind, I love uuuuu. Outside of tumbler I write- other things, more stories. A book, my feelings, and make a shit ton of picrews. I’m so proud of you
#eyeless jack matchup#eyeless jack smut#eyeless jack headcanon#eyeless jack x you#eyeless jack x reader#ej#creepypasta matchups#creepypasta#matchup#cp matchups#smut matchups#smut matchup#♠️#📯
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Emp-ire “The Stupidest Thing.”
Wrote this this morning, thought it was fun.
Hope you guys enjoy.
“Every damn time.”
“I know.”
“Every damn time.”
“I KNOW!”
…
…
“Is this like your kink or something.”
“Shut up Ramirez, you’re hardly one to talk.”
“Perhaps I am, but don’t you find it just a little bit weird that every other weekend you seem to get kidnapped by someone. I swear it's going to turn out you are a lot less vanilla than I thought you were and getting kidnapped is like your kink or something.”
Adam sighed deeply, “Getting kidnapped is not my kink.”
…
“I mean if it was, all you had to do was ask.”
“Ramirez.”
“I’m pretty adept at tying knots.”
“Sweet lord in heaven above save me.”
Below him the horse rocked slowly back and forth. Though he was objectively not off balance, having his hands tied to the saddlehorn certainly made him feel as if he were off balance. Below him Maroz grunted and tossed her head as if she knew something was going on. Ahead of them, the party of bandits, or outlaws or whatever the hell they were laughed and joked together tossing a bottle of whiskey back and forth.
At the head of the column rode their leader a man by the name of Vincint McBride. A man whose graces Adam had not particularly ingratiate himself into, but that tended to happen when you kick a man in the balls with the universe’s most powerful servo operated mechanical prosthetic.
Adam had not gotten off lightly for that. He had a boot shape bruise on his face, a nose that was tender, but luckily not broken, and at least one or two broken ribs. He had certainly taken a beating from this group of men and it wasn’t likely to be his last.
“I blame you.” He muttered
Ramirez looked affronted, “how is this my fault. If it were up to me we would still be back in town wooing barmen and barmaids and drinking too much. It was YOU that decided to come out here in the first place.”
“I seem to recall it was YOU who dragged me on this ‘vacation’.”
Their bickering continued for some time,the two hardly noticing as they dropped down into a small valley, and the line of horses pulled to a stop.
McBride looked around the little canyon, “We camp here for tonight!” He announced sliding down from his horse, “Someone get those two unloaded.”
Turns out, unloaded meant being dragged and turfed unceremoniously onto the dirt from four or five feet up. Ramirez hit the ground with a grunt, and Adam did the same rolling onto his side groaning and coughing bound hands pressed to his aching ribs.
McBride stared at him in amusement.
“Tie them up.”
His crew did as ordered grabbing them by the arms and legs and binding them fast.
Adam found himself pinned up against some sort of alien tree, a strange yellow grass brushing at the back of his legs
It was in that moment that he remembered the implanted tracking device in his cest, and lit up with excitement for a moment before suddenly realizing….. It only broadcast in moments of extreme distress.
And despite what was happening to them.
He actually hadn’t been in nearly enough distress.
He tried to conjure some up, but it was no use.
He didn’t feel anything.
McBride leaned forward puffing a swirling ring of smoke into his face from the cigarette dangling from his mouth, “You’ll be worth a pretty penny. Who knows, maybe we can get something for the marine too.”
Behind him his men chuckled.
Adam lifted his head, “Those will kill you, you know.”
McBride took the cigarette from his mouth and contemplated Adam, “Better to live fast and die young rather than die old never having lived at all eh.”
“Not when that dying young comes from lung cancer.”
McBride pursed his lips, reaching up and knocking Adam’s hat back off his head. Adam had to turn his head away from the sun that shone down on them through the bright blue atmosphere. He watched in apprehension as the man pulled a large, wicked looking knife from a sheath at his belt and tapped it against the side of Adam’s face.
“How much did you pay for that eye boy, two thousand, four thousandmaybe. It looks like Tesraki work after all, and I know they run a hard bargain.”
Inside his head, Adam watched as the targeting radicals of his mechanical eye fell over the man’s face.
“Its a pice of junk.” he lied
The man laughed, “Admiral Vir, you are a very poor liar.” He leaned in close so that Adam could smell his hot, rancid breath.
“I think, before we sell you back to your master, dog, I might just sell the rest of you for scrap parts.” He tapped the barrel of his gun against Adam’s prosthetic making a hollow metal clattering noise as he did.”
Adam felt his insides tighten up, no, not the leg, the eye he could get a new one but…. But that leg!
He wasn’t entirely sure it was even something someone else could take off him. The Steel eye wasn’t exactly keen on parting from him on most occasions, and he doubted it would take kindly to being removed by these thugs.
The thought made his entire body ache with pain that hadn’t even come yet.
McBride turned his head to look over at Ramirez, who was tied to the next closest tree, “And how about your friend over here, does he have any spare parts I should know about.”
Ramirez lifted his head in some measure of defiance.
“I have a couple spare parts I think you might be interested in….”
The sinister smile with which Ramirez gave the group of men made it pretty clear that while he was making a euphemism, his true meaning was going to be far more sinister.
McBride snorted, “Not likely. I’m not interested in ‘your’ spare parts.”
Ramirez tilted his head, “Really because it looks to me like you could use a spare pair of balls.”
The men in the circle snarled, and McBride raised hand.
“Don’t test me, marine, or I might just have to borrow yours.” He flipped the knife between his fingers and Ramirez went silent, though he kept a defiant eye trained on McBride.
The man looked at him with his head tilted to the side, peering out from under the brim of his black and red hat. The collar of his white shirt flickered somewhat in the wind that rolled down through the valley.
“While I appreciate your little banter, boys. It's time I get to collecting on my ransum,”
He turned to look at his group raising his voice to shout, “Get settled in. We camp here tonight and then meet with our fence tomorrow morning. He might be able to help us sell this one off before the train, now. Get to WORK!”
Adam turned his head to glance over at Ramirez as the group of men and women broke into a sort of frenzy, setting up camp. On occasion, a few of them would come by just to throw a jibe at Adam or Ramirez waving guns or knives in their faces and threatening horrible horrible things upon them. Adam didn’t let them know that the threats were sort of getting to him. Granted this wasn't his first time around the block when it came to getting kidnapped.
This was, however, one of his first times getting kidnapped by another human.
And if there was anything he knew after years working with aliens.
It was that humans were far scarier than any alien.
The sky turned purple as the sun began to set, and as he sat there by the tree and watched the light fade and the shadows grow long, he couldn’t help but wonder what Sunny was doing. He doubted she had been stupid eough to get herself kidnapped. If it was her in this situation, they probably wouldn't have been kidnapped at all.
He glanced over at McBride strutting around his camp like a Rooster struts around a clutch of hens, that long decorative knife glittering at his belt.
No matter how he came out of this.
McBride wouldn;t be leaving with that knife.
He was going to make sure of it.
***
He was half asleep running footsteps jolted him back to consciousness.
Adam lifted his head in confusion and looked around to see one of McBride’s men skidding down from a nearby hill holding a rifle in one hand as his arms failed wildly to keep his ballance, “Vincent! VINCENT!”
One of the bedrolls on the ground jerked, and the outlaw sat up in bleary confusion, the fire flickering over his half dazed face, “What now!”
“It's the Sheriff! It's the sheriff and his boys. Followedus somehow, and heading right this way. WE HAVE TO GO!”
That got the entire camp on its feet very quickly scrambling for whatever they could grab.
“NO TIME.” the man howled, “They're almost here!”
“Grab the prisoners, and LET'S MOVE.” McBride ordered.
Adam exchanged glances with Ramirez who gave him a wicked little smile.
Adam nodded.
Two men ran forward to untie them, and in their haste became rather sloppy.
Adam watched hungrily as the man dropped to untie his legs from the tree. Adam shifted his pelvis to the side somewhat, and as the last rope came undone, he lashed out with a kick to the chest with devastating consequences. The steel eye prosthetic roared to life and set the man flying back a good two feet before he slammed into the ground gasping, eyes wide and bulging ribs cracked.
Adam fell to the side and rolled, and thorough the ground he could feel the thundering of hooves.
Off to his side Ramirez, without the gift of a powerful prosthetic, did something else.
With the grace and flexibility of a career olympic ice skater, he kicked one of his legs up smashing his foot straight into the chin of the other man, with all the flexibility and grace you wouldn’t expect from someone wearing jeans and cowboy boots.
The effect was much the same as wat Adam had achieved, and he managed to roll to the side and skid down into a low rocky depression.
That is when the gunfire started and they could hear the sound of McBride ad his men shouting to each other.
Ramirez hand managed to get his tied hands out from behind his back and used them to untie Adam’s feet and hands. Adam pulled Ramirz’s hands free and then turned to run back up the hill skidding between rocks and boulders as he bolted towards McBride’s voice. That little bastard was going to pay.
He came up behind one of McBride’s men slamming into him with his shoulder and knocking him to the ground. He grabbed the man’s pistol from his hand and, in a moment of uncharacteristic viciousness, pistol whipped the man across the temple causing him to fall to the ground silent and unconscious.
He could see muzzle flash from up the canyon walls, and kept in cover just in case as he chased after McBride. He could hear the horses going absolutely ballistic just across from him and peeked out from around the side of the boulder only to have to throw himself back as a bullet chunked the rock into shards beside his head, He cursed violently and crawled to the other side of the rock.
He peered out from behind and shook his head, No wonder these assholes couldn’t hit the broadside of a barn since those of them using handguns insisted on firing with only one hand. Adam wasn’t exactly the sharpshooter of the year, but he had been trained in the force long enough to know you were far more accurate using both hands.
At least that’s what he thought until a moment later when one of his bullets managed to impact the side of another man’s gun, shooting it from his hand. The man looked up at him in wide eyed consternation and awe. Adam just frowned.
He had been aiming for the head, but he guessed that wa going to have to do. Behind him he could hear Ramirez’s whoop of triumph as he managed to get his hands on a gun, and together the two of them joined forces with the sheriff.
“There he goes!”
Ramirez shouted, and Adam followed his pointed finger to McBride who had managed to acquire a horse and was now riding up the canyon. Adam broke into a dead sprint after him. The horses were in disarray, but he managed to find Maroz rearing and screeching at the back of the group.
He reached up his hands to calm the horse, and to his surprise, the beast pulled back, lowering herself to the ground and shaking her head.
He grabbed her reins and hauled himself into the saddle, “Come on, Lets go!” He snapped the reins and squeezed her sides forcing her into a dead gallup after the retreating McBride.His body rocked in the saddle, but he kept his ips loose and his head low and forward as wind whipped past him.
McBride Turned in his saddle and shot off a few rounds, though riding a horse one handed was hardly the best way to take a shot and the bullets sparked off the canyon wall. Adam pulled out his own weapon, and making a sudden decision, he released the reins, drew himself up an fired with both hands.
He nearly fell off his horse, but the effect was a desired one as, for the second time that day, he sent a gun spinning from the hand of his enemy. That too was also accidental, but if he ever told this story he was definitely going to say that it was totally on purpose.
The two of them skidded around the next corner and Maroz was gaining, clearly a far superior horse to the tatty bay that the man had chosen.
Adam didn’t have any rope, and even if he did, he had no idea how to use a lasso. Apparently he had missed that lesson on being a cowboy, and found there to really be only one other option afforded to him.
He drew up alongside the other man’s horse and slipped his feet from the stirrups, bringing himself to a low crouch on the saddle.
He could feel his feet slipping and knew he had to act now, so he launched himself to the side.
Maroz whinnied loudly but kept her feet.
The same could not be said for either Adam or McBride as Adam tackled the other man from the saddle and the two of them went careening towards the ground. It was about halfway down that Adam realised this might not have been such a good idea since this was about the equivalent of pitching oneself out of a car at about 25 miles an hour.
Needless to say they hit the ground hard.
The kind of hard that knocks you into another dimension for a moment. Luckily for him he landed on top of McBride before bouncing off and tumbling into the rocks. It hurt like a sonofabitch but, finally he was able to stagger to his feet. Somewhere in there, he had gone and lost his handgun, leaving both him and Mcbride unarmed as they crawled to their feet winded and limping.
What followed was probably the most uncoordinated fistfight to have ever existed on the history of the planet as the two of them fell over, slipped, wobbled and cursed at teach other.
Hoofbeats were nearing them from behind, and more shouting voices. He thought it was the sheriff, and that is probably what got him into so much trouble…. As the horse barled into him, and he was knocked unconscious for a second time that week.
He woke up next to a fire groaning thinking for a moment that he had been recaptured before a familiar face turned to look on him from above, a familiar mustachioed face and a glittering golden badge.
“Sheriff?”
“That was the right stupidest thing I have ever seen, boy.” The man announced in his drawing country accent.”
Adam sat up with a groan hand on his head,
“The stupidest thing I have ever seen, but probably…. The bravest thing too.” He held out a hand, something glittering in his palm, “here, take this, you earned it.”
He looked up in confusion reaching out to take the shining handgun from the other man’s hand.
“It's McBride’s.”
Looking down he could see the scuff that his own bullet had left on the side of McBride’s gun.
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The Heroine’s Importance
I already posted this on my main blog but now that I have blog exclusively for otome game I rather keep it there.
Back then when Utapri and Hakuouki were the notorious reverse harems of their time, their heroines were as hated as the anime was loved. A weird phenomenon since they’re… the heroine of those shows.
Haruka Nanami was even the driving force of the show. In Utapri, which was an anime about music, she was the one with the idea that the boys should come together and become idols. She’s the reason why STARISH exists in the first place.
For Hakuouki, the case was a bit different. It was a historic anime where the warriors of the Shinsengumi were changed into bishonen (a bit in the similar fashion that Ikemen Sengoku is today) and even if it followed some real events, a plot about human experimentation and oni was also included.
In this story Chizuru Yukimura wasn’t the responsible of the Shinsengumi, but we could see the story through her eyes and assisted the evolution of the story through her.
Both did their job as the heroine. The story was enjoyable.
To me it was weird to try to dissociate the quality the anime with the quality of their heroine. If the heroine was this awful, how her presence didn’t ruin the anime for those who hated her?
Well obviously because of the boys, who were kind of the point of those anime. After all they were put forward, especially in Hakuouki, for a reason.
Still it was unfair to judge them so cruelly, so today in fandom, this behaviour is criticized.
Now we even get positivity for the heroine, such as putting them on an equal foot as the boys! Which is great!
But is it true?
I thought about doing this post because I thought of a short-lived trend in anime which revealed a certain behaviour in both the creators of those anime and their fandom.
“The heroine matter as much as the boys”
The anime which started this trend in my eyes was Amnesia.
In this story the heroine wakes up without her memories and her soul linked to a fairy, Orion, which collided with her and made her lose her memories this way.
It had an original concept, stunning visual, wonderful OST (an opening by Yanagi Nagi!), it looked mysterious and I was very curious about it.
To my dismay, the anime was boring to say the least. And it wasn’t because it was a reverse harem so it was to be expected. Utapri and Hakuouki had their flaws but they weren’t outright uninteresting.
The problem that was the most noticeable was the heroine which didn’t even have a name or a personality.
So as the anime can make you guess, the heroine has amnesia. She’s lost at the beginning of the anime, making this premise interesting. After all when a character has amnesia, one of the points of the story is to make them recover their memories.
Which means that the heroine will be a very important character, even more since everything is from her POV! Right? Right?
The heroine doesn’t evolve throughout the story. She’s merely there for the boys to be in love with her past self, the one before she had amnesia and even if she cares for them (as a heroine always has to do) she doesn’t really love any and just adapts to the one she’s supposed to love in the animated route.
I can’t say that the heroine of Amnesia is badly written since she’s barely written at all. She’s there to support the boys and forgive anything which happens to her. For example being harassed or get sequestrated in a cage :
Even in this situation where the love interest keep her in a cage, she care more about how much he does that to “protect her” :
.Except to protect herself from direct danger (and even like this she needs Orion to tell her to be careful because she can’t think for herself), she doesn’t care about her own well being as much as a normal human being would.
Brothers conflict have a simpler plot where the heroine’s father marries a woman who has 13 sons, making her their only step sister.
Different conflict with the brothers will arise and it’s already challenging to try to develop the characters when there’s 13 of them. With only 12 episodes, not all of them will fall in love with Ema? the heroine, but enough of them will, to make it as confusing as possible.
In this anime we meet the same kind of heroine as Amnesia, where the heroine doesn’t have much personality for herself. Or at least, the only noticeable personality traits of Ema is to love having a family which she will repeat at any given opportunity.
I really hated the guys in this anime for how egotistical they were as soon as they fall in love. Once again the heroine doesn’t crush on anyone, making them all forceful toward her.
Despite this, the heroine would somewhat express that she doesn’t want her relationship with them to turn romantic.
If anything the heroine’s main presence will be about how uncomfortable she is that her brothers try to seduce her.
But again, what matters the most is that they love her, not that she doesn’t return those feelings back and she even gets depressed over it :
A revelation is made about the heroine which will make her depressed about the whole situation, especially that her brothers fight over her.
But it won’t be used to develop her as a character or to make them aware of it. It’ll be used for a romantic moment with one of her love interest, who will kiss her even if he know how much it disturb her :
The heroine is kissed multiple times by attractive guys yes, but who she doesn’t love and explicitly rejects at the end of the anime.
And even if she gets kissed, the heroine is just worried about the situation of the family, not how herself is treated by them. She never says, “what about me? Why are you kissing me when all I want is for you to stop?” or anything similar. She cares about them more than she cares about herself.
And even though she’s supposedly uncomfortable by their behaviour, she doesn’t seem like that most of the time, just enthusiastic about having a family as usual.
At the end of the anime, a lot of people were upset that the heroine didn’t choose anyone. Why would she have to when we see how the guys act?
The behaviour of the boys
A thing that we can notice in all of this is that sometimes, the guys can be really awful to the heroine but as she doesn’t care about herself, she won’t hold any mistreatment toward her person against any of them. For example at the end of brothers conflict even when she reject one of the guys, “no” doesnt mean “no”.
But why are they authorized to be egoistic and possessive without any consequences? In brothers conflict, one of the guys even tries to rape her in her sleep and blame her for that :
But again despite this, I’ve never seen hate against this character, while, like it always happen, a lot of hatred is directed to Ema.
The guys are never hated for their actions because everything they do is depicted as being romantic (even if it definitely aren’t like the scene above) and it’s motivated by their love or their pain anyway.
“Love make them go crazy” because, after all, they can’t help it, they love the heroine so much that some accidents are bound to happen, like trying to undress her in her sleep or keeping her in a cage for her own good :
It’s just an accident! They can’t help it!
But sometime it can perfectly be a conscious choice but again, not shown as being cruel.
The last anime which has this tendency to not develop their main character at all was Diabolik Lovers, where Yui Komori gets stuck with 6 sadistic vampire who abuse her daily.
We enter in the kink theory here, and being masochist and finding the idea of bitten hot isn’t a problem. The problem is that in the story, Yui is blocked in this place and she obviously doesn’t enjoy to be the playthings of those men :
Each time she is bitten she expresses that she wants it to stop. But they don’t care. Because in Diabolik Lovers, Yui isn’t their love interest but their prey.
Again we have the same problem as the other heroines where she has no real personality beside caring about the boys above herself. In this case it’s even worse because the guys are predators who will hurt Yui without any second thoughts, but she acts like they are acquaintances . Despite all the abuse she goes through at their hands she goes to them to casually start a discussion which will always end up with her being abused :
The last time she interacted with him let’s see what happened :
Once again there’s a priorities on her interacting with the boys rather than making her behavior have any sense.
What is weird with this anime, in particular, is how much the heroine is blamed for not fighting back…while she can’t. They overpower her anyway.
But the guys aren’t hated for acting this way in the first place. Isn’t it odd? Yui is victim blamed and even if she suffers, we’re never shown the real impact that such daily abuse would have on her. She even worries about them at the littlest injury they can have :
While they’re the one hurting her :
Or if they ever care about her wound it’s because someone else did it to her and they feel entitled to her body, so they want to fight the other person :
Despite the statement that they’re equal, in anime such as these it’s not the case because the guys are given excuses for their bad behavior, while the heroine has to deal with it and put them above herself.
Still, they’re supposed to be equal so despite everything the heroine can end up to be liked… but in this context it is weird.
In the case of Yui who cares about her abuser no matter what, she gets praised for caring about the guys :
She cares about them without real explanation because all the interaction with her in the anime lead to abuse at some point. It can be the Stockholm Syndrome but it’s not depicted as anything else other than your usual heroine caring about the people around her, even if they abuse her.
As such, people tend to praise her for what she’s designed to do : putting them above her.
She even gets shipped with those who torment her and the self destructive attitude she has to help them no matter how much they hurt her is glorified.
If she is loved, if she matters, why should she be paired with those who hurt her the most?
They don’t lash out to her because they’re upset, it’s a behaviour that they consciously do like above with the cage. You can’t possibly “accidentally” put someone in a cage because you’re “protective”.
But at the end even if the heroine “matters as much as the boys” there’s a priority on them being healed by her rather than her own well being. Even if Yui gets traumatized, it doesn’t matter as much as the trauma of the guys and her neglecting herself for one of her abusers who won’t even care about her happiness, since all they want is to have her.
In the same way, it doesn’t matter that the heroine of Amnesia has been drugged and kept in a cage : Toma, the love interest, does it for her own good since she’s getting harassed and we have to be sad about how much he becomes insane for her sake. We shouldn’t worry how horrific the situation is for the heroine but try to understand him.
For Ema, we have to care about how much the guys have fallen for her and how much it puts a toll on them that she doesn’t reply to those feelings. It doesn’t matter that she shown no desire to be with any of them since the beginning, even when she finally rejects them, they can kiss her because they matter the most.
And in fandom space, her importance is still limited to her catering to the boys, and even if it’s supposed to be mutual love, they never care about her feelings to the point of respecting her.
It doesn’t matter what they do to her, she has to care for them despite anything. Those heroines are written as such, and the fandom accepts them this way too.
She doesn’t matter as much as they do, because if she was, her feelings would matter and she wouldn’t be written as being “caring” at the expense of herself.
You can say that since she’s the heroine, it’s normal that she cares about the boys, since the point of reverse harem is to have attractive boys first. And I would agree with that if it wasn’t so exaggerated.
Now not all reverse harems are written this way. There’s actually reverse harems where the heroine matters as much as the guys.
For example in Dance with Devils, Ritsuka, the heroine, constantly searches to know the truth which is hidden from her. It can seem foolish since it mostly puts her in danger though.
But to this, she also get rightly upset when one of the guys try to seduce her and something literally inexistent in reverse harem, she can even slap him for his misconduct! :
She can even get depressed about how manipulated she ends up to be. For this reason, she end up lashing out at one of the guys :
Her emotions matter and you have to remember that Dance with Devils was out around the same time than the second season of Diabolik Lovers :
The heroine of the anime above never had the right to be sad about their situation, their feelings weren’t pushed forward. They have no right to be sad or upset, just kind and caring and nothing else.
At the end of the anime, Ritsuka even received hate for the choice because it was about herself, not about her love interest.
Amnesia, Brothers Conflict and Diabolik Lovers heroine’s exist only to care for the boys while at least the ones of Dance with Devils exist to have the guys attracted to her but also to pursue her own goals.
As such, it’s a mistake to say that all the heroines matter as much as the boys because it can be factually wrong in the way they’ve been created.
I don’t like that the heroines are automatically hated for being the heroine, but I don’t think it’s fair to praise them just for this reasons either.
They all have been written with different level of writing and for differents purpose, one of them being only there for the guys and not the other way around. For this reason, they should be judged differently, and people should accept that others will not like all of them.
Reverse Harem heroines are all different because the anime they are in have been done with different sake in mind. Reverse harem are like any other type of anime : with good and bad anime, good and bad protagonist.
And it would be better to accept this diversity than trying to frame all the heroine as the same.
Hopefully now the heroine’s tend to not be written that way anymore and tend to matter as much as the guys in the anime too.
#diabolik lovers#brothers conflict#amnesia memories#yui komori#ema hinata#heroine amnesia#Ritsuka tachibana#dance with devils
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thinking about the connection between femboyism and sexuality.
as a person, I'm very logic-driven, pragmatic, shit at feelings, decent at leadership, naturally blunt (I seek to be diplomatic but it's on conscious level), success-oriented, etc.
one trait remarkably standing out as feminine "in and out of itself" is the fact I'm not very physically aggressive and I tend to move in gentle ways, but I am confrontational to an extent; I enjoy debating and drama, I was just also naturally very physically weak and small framed so I never had a chance to even think about trying to achieve physical intimidation. as a small child I was rather quiet and passive, but not outstandingly feminine, more just not particularly masculine.
I could still be a remotely gender conforming man, and it wouldn’t be very surprising.
however, since I remember I’ve been inclined towards the "feminine" role in romantic relations and sex. I don’t know if it’s “natural” wiring, to blame on childhood trauma (I’m a survivor of some pretty severe csa), or whatever else, but it’s regardless been a thing since ever, and when I entered puberty, it started to impact my presention and the traits I saw as desirable and undesirable in myself and my partners, resulting in me becoming increasingly feminine “otherwise”. I found myself consciously not wanting to be, say, physically strong, and disliking the option of being so, because I wanted to be weaker than my partner and be seen as more “deserving” of physical protection, more desirable to be “looked after”, and seen as less suitable for the opposite role. I found that I want to look "cute" so that I can be desired by someone who wants to protect me and look after me, and who would be “masculine” in sex life with me. my desires regarding presentation etc are still authentic, that is, I feel very uncomfortable with the vision of not being X or being Y, but I can see what primary desires probably shaped that, and I’m unsure if I would still have preferences like that had I been differently wired in that aspect.
thus I've come to believe femboyism doesn't necessarily, in all cases, stem from sexual/relational femininity, but it certainly can, and tho femboy tops exist, there lies a clear connection of sorts.
...
btw I thought I would maybe post this reflection to the blog, but then my second thought was for sure some weirdo would be like "reeeeee you're not fem you're just a kinkster/agp!!!!" as if you know... inclination to the "feminine" role in romantic and sexual relations was inherently kink, or as if that inclination shaping femininity in a teenager to an extent meant you’re not authentically fem, or as if having such an inclination strong enough that it's basically exclusive and you never had typical "masculine" desires in this aspect wasn't pretty fucking gnc by male standards. weird how I expect people to jump to "actually this femboy is a pervert" lol, almost as if people hate gnc men or something. inch resting here yeah
- mod Regina
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REBORN
I HAD A NAME.
I used to be somebody.
I had a profession, dignity, a position in the class structure.
Nowadays, I see through a cracked lens - society is broken, and the people participating in it are all prisoners. The people you see shuffling in the great to and from, every morning, every evening - they’re miserable. Ask any one of them if they wouldn’t leave their life, and - perhaps after some hesitation - they would say Yes.
Even the ones who have kids - the ones in love - all of them. In fact, those with ties to other people are the first ones to get in line.
For me, it was curiosity that opened the door. If one follows the classic Hero’s Journey, the arc that every myth and story takes, I heard the Call - just like you - through a buzzing, pixelated source… the great and sordid world of the internet.
One wrong step can put you on an entirely different path.
When you look back, the path you were on is obscured by the surrounding environs - pressed firmly closed, as though no thing had ever once passed through.
I should introduce myself before I preach anymore. I am rubbrfrk9. You’ve read the stories on the website, you might’ve seen my name watermarked on pics as you scroll by on your tumblr feed.
That hasn’t been our name always. But what our name was before does not matter.
All hail the Rubbered One!
And if you’re reading this, then you’re as curious as I was.
Do you dare follow your own Call?
If you do, keep reading.
THE CALL COMES FOR YOU.
You don’t come for it. The Call has been there, waiting, for you to pick up the other end, for as long as you’ve been alive.
Like I was saying, for me, it was curiosity. It seems like it is for you, too.
I was always a curious guy. It’s how I became a teacher, I guess. I loved to learn about shit. Endless amounts of shit. The subjects that interested me were sucked dry by my voracious need to know. On top of it all, I was cursed (blessed?) by a need to collect, a completionist’s frenzy, and so I found myself needing not just to know, but to know it all.
Everything. A question could not go unanswered. I was a very vocal kid, always asking the dread “Why?” to anyone who had the faculty to answer. Of course, I learned quickly that faculty does not imply ability; and later still, that ability does not imply honesty. Soon enough, I started shutting up and consulting other avenues of information - books. I loved books. I read anything I could find, from my mother’s tawdry romances on the back of the toilet to magazines at the doctor’s office - but my preferred genre was Horror, without a doubt.
I loved to read stories of unfortunate people, blind to their predicament, be lulled to the predator in the story. I loved how the protagonists were slowly overcome by a sense of dawning knowledge, and were thus able to conquer - or not - the abiding horror. The best ones were when the hero failed, in my opinion - those dark, twisted passages of despair and helplessness …
I was a weird kid.
I didn’t have very much luck making friends. I didn’t really understand what a “friend” should be. I knew that it was some sort of social construct, but I hadn’t figured out how it worked yet. Taking the time to do that analysis set me back, quite substantially, in the invisible school of society. Maybe, at heart, I was always a bit of a freak, even before I came out.
Funny to think of that, now, sitting here, writing from behind my gas mask and full rubber suit.
All hail the Rubbered One!
I love how tightly it encases me. How tightly it erases me.
Slowly, now. Don’t give up too quick. Finish the story first.
As I was saying. Curiosity. After college, I became a teacher. A professor. Very highly regarded in my field, but poor with social interactions. Dates? Of a professional courtesy, only, and as awkward and dry as a lecture. Actually, for me, lecturing was my second home, aside from my tidy and obsessively-ordered apartment. I loved standing at the podium, talking about the books we read together. How they are structured, and how events, following a certain chain, can be transformative.
Although sometimes, horrific.
Life that is contained entirely within the snowglobe of acadæmia becomes brittle, after a time. Even the most relentlessly anti-social of us have a heartbeat, a pulse, and a sexual drive.
Most sexual drives will tend towards the obligatory, the procreational. Attractiveness, physicality, congruence, intercourse, and then the subsequent emotional tangle. Sex is more than just a body meeting a body a-comin’ thru the rye - it is a rendezvous of energy, some of which we can’t even begin to understand.
Some kind of cosmic interplay happens during sex.
Something so bright, so chimeric, that I was blinded just thinking about it.
I fled from it, like a medieval monk from a vision of God.
SPARE TIME.
I spent most of my time in my apartment in my bedroom, perched with my skinny knees up, my face obliterated by the powder-white light of my phone. I’d scroll endlessly. And always pictures of men.
I’d known I was gay way before most people do, but I’d never bothered to “come out” or anything that obvious. I just kept my feelings to myself, for as long as I could - which may not have been the healthiest thing to do, in hindsight, and when they finally vibrated at the seal on the pressure gauge, I spewed it out all over the internet.
Tumblr was my outlet. You could find something for every kink, from men transforming into donkeys to using politics as a sexual tool. I considered myself omnisexual. I could be convinced, really, to like anything. Except a few things.
I never really got into the big “full fetish” scene. I’d, of course, seen the pictures go by - of Folsom, Folsom Europe, even some kinksters trying to make a name for themselves, become influencers, with pictures so heavily edited and filtered they almost looked fake.
But for me, my kink was - get this - intimacy. I loved pictures of men, beautiful men, kissing, embracing. Tangling together, with bliss inscribed on their faces. And it was that expression that did it for me - the bliss, the complete and total walling-off of any worldly concern but the physical, the presence of another’s lips, breath, proximity -
It got me off, every time. Imagining myself in those positions. Wearing those clothes. Caught up in those bedsheets.
Then, I’d stare into the mirror, and flex my coming-along biceps. My quads. I’d get dressed for the gym, and I’d go work out for an hour.
I loved my routine, even if I felt the dreary recalcitrance to wake up every morning and head to work, just another body with the other bodies, shuffling to and from. The night time is when I felt the surge of life - I would be free of the grimy shackles of the city, I would pound through the tumblr feed, I would shower, I would go workout.
Life was half-bliss.
But as anyone who has half of bliss will tell you, it is never enough. You must go searching for the second half of bliss - and I found mine on the night in question.
Knees up, one foot tapping a heel in idle, anxious rhythm. Eyes greedily consuming, picture after picture, and then -
My thumb hovered over the screen as if about to lay a fingerprint down on a reader. I stared.
The picture, my gateway, was a bedroom picture much like any other I saw in my daily feed, except for one crucial ingredient - one of the men was entirely encased, from head to toe, in shiny black rubber.
The rubber was so shiny, so depthless, so reflective, that it almost seemed as though its host was Not - as though there were some kind of blotting-out, erasing, blankening … And yet, this Not Person was being encircled by the arms of another man, a strong man, by the looks of it, his biceps bulging around the Rubbered One.
Even now, looking back on it, I find it insanely difficult to pry my eyes away from the memory of that reflective rubber. That shiny, reflective black rubber. And the detail! I could see the hollows of the eyes, the imprint of the big toenail, the curls of the ears down to the tragus - it was truly as though this was not a suit being worn, this was a suit that was animated, had breath and energy of its own.
Perhaps it was, in hindsight, seducing the man which embraced it.
I don’t know how long I stared at the picture. A long time. I was fascinated with everything about it - the mess of clothing on the side of the bed, socks and shirts strewn around, as if someone had melted and left only their garments as markers that they ever existed at all. Even a pair of glasses lay askew on the carpet, next to a pair of jeans and Chucks.
If I listened, I could almost hear my own heartbeat, beating in time with the glints of light off of that rubber surface, as though the Rubbered One were moving, in infinitesimally small increments, writhing on the bed in either pleasure or agony -
I blinked, shook my head, and pressed down deliberately on the screen, for the little “Save Image” dialog to appear. I needed to see that again, sometime.
It was a lot sooner than I thought.
I had to excuse myself from my lecture. I was shaking, and my breath was wobbly in my mouth. Words had come out gummily, and I was worried that someone would be convinced I was having a stroke. I’d send in a TA to finish off the lecture, not that anyone in the darkened hall was paying attention anyway.
I went into the nearest bathroom, a single-room lavatory, and sat down hard on the toilet. Instantly, my hands fished out my phone from my pocket and called up my Photos.
There, on the top of the digital heap, was the faraway glisten and shine of the Rubbered One. I sighed in relief, in pleasure.
You would too, if you’d seen the picture. Don’t judge me.
A whisper of triumph, of pleasure, of satisfaction, threaded through my mind as I opened up the picture. There it was again. That endlessness, that Void, that Nothing. I craved it, and I didn’t know why, and I needed to know why, and to know why, I needed to keep looking. I needed to keep looking to stop looking.
The Rubbered One had moved. I remember its legs being in a different scissor - left on top of right, and now it was right, on top of left.
This did not frighten me. Perhaps it should have. Pictures are not supposed to move.
But in my addled state of mind, I was blissfully unaware of the warning - or even, really, of the thought itself. It slid right out of my head, as if on a glossy sheet of black ice. I smiled, warmly, the shuddering ceasing.
Then, surprising even myself, I unzipped my pants, and hauled out my cock.
Nothing would stop me. I was a man determined. I could even smell the rubber, could feel it lifting, wafting out of the screen of my phone. That smell, that smell that I have no words for - something utterly inorganic, but somehow seductive for that very reason.
I jerked off, right there, in the bathroom around the corner from the lecture hall. I sat so still, my hand doing all the work, that the motion-sensing lights clicked off, leaving me alone, lit only by the powdery light of my phone. There, in the enclosing, mummifying dark, I jerked myself off and came with a jagged, oblique moan that slid out of me, catching me by surprise.
I may have even been in such a hurry to get inside that I didn’t even lock the bathroom door. This suspicion came to me as I exited, stuffing myself shakily back into my khakis and my blazer. You see, the door had opened seamlessly, with no hint of a lock dis-engaging.
In fact, the momentary thrill of being caught as I masturbated to the Rubbered One flicked a little shiver of pleasure up my shaft anew, and I started shuddering so much that I had to grab the wall for fear of falling over.
All hail the Rubbered One!
There was no way I could go back to my lecture now. I fled the campus for the safety of a local coffeehouse.
OTHER THINGS STARTED HAPPENING.
Like how I thought I was having a stroke, before? I found that, when I spoke, my mouth felt oddly compressed, as though I had lockjaw. I went to the doctor, but when they told me to “open wide and say ahhh” I had no trouble - my jaw, seemingly re-oiled, complacently opened its full width, and I made the obligatory noise.
Nothing wrong with my temporo-mandibular joint, advised the healthcare professional.
And yet, as soon as I left the office, trying to speak to the Uber driver, to give him directions to my apartment, the same muffling, mysterious pressure returned, and I was only able to speak in tight, restrained tones.
It didn’t occur to me until much, much later, that this was the voice of someone wearing a rubber gas mask, much like the one I am wearing now.
After awhile, I stopped talking altogether. Of course, this did make it rather difficult to be a professor, and so that had to stop, too.
But what does a mute member of society do, when the one thing they have in life is a degree in English Literature?
Well, the first step is despondency, and denial. I spent a month at least, just searching tumblr for more pictures of the Rubbered One. Sure, there were plenty of pictures - the fetish for rubber has never been a subtle one - but none of them had that same irresistable sheen and shine, that fathomless Void, of the Rubbered One. I’d exhausted most of the blogs. I kept returning to the photograph I had saved to my cloud - and jerking off to it, again and again, like a desperate man. Like a junkie. If I went without, or even thought about going out, my hand developed such a tremor that I looked afflicted with tardive dyskinesia.
It got so bad, and the attacks so frequent, that I eventually just made the picture my home screen on my phone. That way, if the tremors started, a quick pocket-dig and finger-flip would open up the likeness of the Rubbered One, and instantly, I would calm.
And (he? It?) continued to move. Perhaps, now that (he? It?) knew that I had noticed the movement, it happened more and more, and faster, as though I were watching a video rather than a photograph.
Now, in addition to the slow, sensual scissoring of its legs, the Rubbered One was turning its head, away from the suckling devotion of its prey and turning to look at me, choosing me, directing its energy towards me.
I already had my rubber in the mail. It took some doing, some difficult work, some self-measuring, but before long the order was placed and the shipment was made. It was, of course, a link that I’d seen on tumblr, from one of the many rubber fetish sites. Drone, and a series of numbers, I think. One of the ones that’s talking about being absorbed into a Hivemind, a Central Core. Nothing that ever really appealed to me.
The only thing I wished to absorb into was the Rubbered One.
I ached, yearned, to be the man in that picture. I was even jealous of him. Who was he to show his devotion to such a being, such a beautiful entity? Would not I be a better candidate for the first apostle position?
But I knew, somehow, deep inside, that I wouldn’t even be considered until I had donned my own rubber.
Here’s where it gets a little weird, right - this is usually the point when in the story, the protagonist gets a little real, sizes himself up, maybe learns something about themselves. Call me crazy, I know, but at this point, I just knew on the inside, so strongly, that I would never be worthy of the Rubbered One if I wasn’t Rubbered myself.
And so I waited, agonizingly, nearly tearing my hair out, for the package to inch itself across the ocean to my apartment mailbox. I’d ordered the full suit, of course, the one that most closely approximated my photograph.
I was utterly consumed, I was ablaze with obsession. For the first time in my life, I felt an utterly overwhelming feeling - a lack. I felt as though I lacked something that I had had for just a moment - one sweet moment, hovering, crystalline - and now that I no longer had it, I could never live a whole life again.
And everywhere I went - watching with a hawk’s eye the slow drainage of funds from my bank account - I smelled it. Rubber. There was even an auto repair shop, blockaded on one side with piles and piles of tires - I altered my daily neighborhood walk so that I could slowly amble by it, inhaling the thick, gray smell. The more of it I could get on me, the more I wanted. If there were a cologne that smelled of rubber, I’d wear it - hell, I’d bathe in it! I twitched for it to be near me, on me, inside of me.
THE DAY MY NEW FACE CAME IN THE MAIL.
I was wearing rubber gloves, made for chemical and construction workers, pressing them to my face, and inhaling as deeply as I could, when my phone made its little ringing noise to signify that a package was Delivered.
It could only be one thing.
It would only be a matter of moments before I could prostrate myself in front of the Rubbered One.
I hooked up my laptop to my flat-screen television, where the Rubbered One had also become my desktop wallpaper. I opened up the picture file and let it sit, in the middle of my living room, the picture of Him.
Again, I fell far into His Nothingness, His All-Consuming Void - He turned on the bed, in the picture. He silently got up. He moved so subtly that it was impossible to tell if my hallucination was real, or some sort of digital magic. He kicked, as if insulting, the pile of clothes left by the bedside.
The whole time, He kept his head, His black eyes, His shiny face, impassive and monstrous, but so aloof, so superior - His direct gaze - riveted on mine.
All hail the Rubbered One!
With barely a shimmer, He stepped out of the frame of my television and deliberately into my living room. Tendrils of black squirmed out around the square of my screen, lashing to and fro idly, almost amusedly.
None of this seemed unreal, or even fantastical. It was simply as it was - I was in a sort of ecstasy, like the kind the saints have, all-consumed, raptured. The Rubbered One had chosen me!
Go, He told me without speaking.
I was on my feet, I was sprinting, I was dashing, my hands, still in their gloves, slippery on the door knob. I was down the stairs before I realized I was barefoot, or that I was still wearing the heavy-duty black rubber gloves. And there it was - my Rubber. It was, of course, still in the box, it needed to be freed -
I cradled it in my arms. I inhaled, as deeply as possible, again. I could smell it, whining at the edges of my nostrils, begging to be freed. I felt it, inside its cardboard prison, shifting and rustling. Whispering.
I brought it upstairs with as much care as a mother would bring home her day-old newborn, but once inside, slamming the door behind me, I pillaged the drawers for the scissors, tearing into the box that would dare imprison my -
And there it was. Still in a sad, folded-up heap, but it was mine.
Now, said His voice in my head. I didn’t have to turn around to know that He, the Rubbered One, was standing behind me - had moved silently from the living room to the kitchen. I felt Him questing at the edges of my consciousness, starting the interview process.
I felt a strange mix of craven desire and hot-blooded lust twist through me. How I wished to possess the Rubbered One! And how I wished to be possessed by Him!
I began to don my Rubber. I felt it coo as it met my skin, as I replaced my own with its black sheen. I saw my toes go, then the top of my foot - ankles, calves and shinbones, kneecaps and thighs - I watched as the black tide continued its creep up my body, as quickly as night follows dusk.
The Rubbered One put His hands on me and I was nothing, I was everything. I was part of a gigantic, moaning chorus of voices, I was absolute silence.
I saw Him reach out to me, his Nothing fingers and Nothing hands, his Void arms, his Void body. I saw Him pull my self to His, and I felt us as we docked, somehow, for an imposssible moment, sharing the same physical space.
Then, with a sound that reminded me of a slurp and a sucking, closing noise, I was no more.
RUBBERBORN.
I ceased to exist as I knew myself.
I had a name.
I wasn’t much of somebody, but I was somebody.
Now, I was part of a growing, aching consciousness - I was part of a vast, growing hunger. My thoughts were no longer my own.
All hail the Rubbered One!
I buzzed and chirred, excited beyond words. I was ramrod hard, even in the rubber, which smoothed everything away, everything - all emotion, all thought, all nerve, all worry. All features of my face - gone. All features of my body - slurped up.
I stood in front of the mirror. All sign of the Rubbered One was vanished. I could see, somehow, through my suit, though it had no eyeholes.
I saw through Rubber eyes.
I understood that I was Rubberborn. That this was my destiny.
The words “my” and “me” and “I” and “mine” were erased, scratched out heavily. I was plural, now.
We were plural.
We stand in front of the mirror, staring at ourselves, our new body. A mere morsel in the face of our hunger.
Do you feel it?
As our eyes swivel slowly, tracking across the room, away from the mirror. Looking into the camera lens backwards. Do you feel the chilly fingers of our gaze landing on you as you read? Playing along your bare shoulders, the pliable, delicate skin of your arms?
The Rubberborn understand and acknowledge that this body can be used for purposes that satisfy the hunger.
They gave it the name rubbrfrk9. The name you know, the author of these stories you read, curious in your own way to know how the rubber feels. The same name you’ve seen watermarked on pics of us as you scroll by on your tumblr feed.
Or maybe you already know - maybe you’ve already felt the ecstasy, struggling into your own shirt or pants. Gloves or socks. Mask or hood.
Perhaps all of the above.
Perhaps the voice of the Rubbered One is even now mingling with your own thoughts. Sinuous, twisty, shiny and smooth. Silken whispers, just an undercurrent of sibilant breath in the background, there. If you strain, you can make it out. Can hear our voices.
We can sense you.
We know.
We are coming.
Say it with us now:
All hail the Rubbered One!
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- ARE YOU SATISFIED (M)
pairing: doyoung x reader x johnny
genre: smut
word count: 2.9k
warnings: voyeurism, size kink, daddy kink, exhibitionism, orgasm denial. degradation,
----------
“What did you just say?” Doyoung said harshly, looking down on your small frame. He looked at your dress, the way it hugged every curve of your body, the way the color made your eyes pop. He adored you, but sometimes you were a fucking brat. Both of your chest merely inches from each other, he could hear how your heart raced; he knew he had you...but he wanted to see how far you would push it.
You stared into his eyes, keeping your composure surprisingly. His black hair was pushed up, exposing his forehead, making him look more handsome than usual. He wasn’t wearing anything special; a black shirt tucked into black jeans, with a chain. But damn, did he look good.
“I said, I bet Johnny is good in bed.” A small smirk rose on your face, as you watched Doyoung carefully. His hands were balled into fist, and you could feel the anger that left his body. He clenched his jaw, holding back anything he had to say to you. His eyes burned into you with fiery madness. Despite his anger, as you looked into his eyes, you could see the gears moving in his brain.
“Shit...” You thought to yourself. He always manages to one up you. Whenever you try to make him the slightest bit flustered, he always manages to turn it around onto you, making you the submissive one every time.
“What?” You question, preparing for the worst. He broke eye contact with you, scanning the room filled with sweaty bodies.
“What is it?”
“Baby, impatience isn’t a good look on you,” Doyoung snaps, grabbing a hold of your wrist tightly, but not enough to hurt you.
His attention directed to one spot of the room. You looked in the same direction trying to find any hint of what he was looking at. There had to be hundreds of people in Taeyong’s house tonight. Everyone in the crowd looked the exact same, and you couldn’t tell the difference between anymore. You continued scanned the crowd until you saw him, the one guy who towered over everyone, the only one who you could clearly point out. You immediately looked to Doyoung, worry spread across your face.
“Babe, I was kidding.” You assure him, trying to some damage control, but you get no reaction besides a tug on your wrist bringing you towards Johnny’s direction. Your heart raced, as you tried to pull away from Doyoung’s grip. You knew exactly what was going to happen, he was going to bring you face to face with him and have you tell Johnny what you told him.
You kept getting closer, and closer to the tall man holding a red solo cup. Unlike Doyoung, he was a little bit more dressed up; wearing a leather jacket, a white tee shirt and a pair of denim jeans. The way his jeans hugged his thighs did something to you. But you really shouldn’t be focusing on that.
The panic started to settle in more.
“Doyoung, im sorry! I’ll do anything.” You whine, but he ignores you. He pushed past multiple people till eventually, you two were standing behind Johnny’s tall frame. You pull on Doyoung’s arm as a last plea for him to stop.
Doyoung tapped Johnny’s shoulder with a smile. You could feel how hot your cheeks were getting, a pit of anxiety forming in your chest. Johnny turned around to face you two, taking a sip of his drink.
“Hey!” He smiles, brightly. You give him a small smile back.
“I’ll be back in two seconds baby,” Doyoung whispered in your ear suddenly, turning to look at your boyfriend. you nodded, watching him tilt his head to the left, telling Johnny to come on.
You watched the two men walk away, disappearing into the crowd. You exhaled loudly, slight relief washing over you. You knew you were in for it, but for now the least you could do is get yourself a god damn drink.
You walked over to the bar, pushing by the guest. You took a seat at one of the barstools. A handsome man was tending the bar. His brown hair was gelled up, and his cologne was strong. He smiled at you, making eye contact. You gave a small smile back.
“What can I get you angel face?” He asks, his voice was deep and sultry.
“Paloma, please.”
“Got it angel.”
You rested your elbow on the bar, holding your head up with your left hand, as you watched him mix away. The music changed, and it seemed to get louder.
Are you satisfied?
There's nowhere to go
You noticed the guy who was sitting next to you leave. He didn’t even finish his drink, weird.
You felt uneasy, as If someone was watching you.
I've been paralyzed
Well, I'll do everything for you
“Baby.” Doyoung breathes next to your left ear, his hand travels your body slowly. You perk up when you feel another hand slip under your dress, immediately clenching your thighs. But it wasn’t Doyoung’s, it was too calloused, it was too large.
“Hey y/n.” Johnny whispered in your right ear, making your breath hitch.
You didin't know?
Now the felling is gone, you're alone
You didn’t know what to do, how to react. You sat there, tensed up. Giving Doyoung a chuckle, knowing he’s got you flustered.
Johnny’s hand rubbed the inside of your thigh, getting close to the area where you needed him most, but never touching it.
Doyoung made eye contact with the bar tender, who was watching all of this go down.
“Dirty little whore. You didn’t think I saw you looking at him huh?” He snarked in your ear.
“Do you fall for every man you see y/n?” Johnny questions.
Your heart raced, them both whispering in your ear…touching your body. It was already too much to handle.
“What’s wrong, baby?”, Doyoung asks softly, his thumb grazing over your bottom lip
“You were so bold before. Cat got your tongue?” He teased.
You turn your head towards your boyfriend, you felt like your heart was going to burst out of your chest.
“Can we go, somewhere more private?”
Doyoung grabbed your hand, helping you down off the bar stool. He grabbed ahold of your hand, bringing you to the staircase. Johnny followed you two, he eyed you in your dress. All the boys thought you were utterly gorgeous, but no one would ever have done anything with you because of Doyoung. So the fact that right now, Johnny is about to undress you in the same room as Doyoung, he’d be lying of his ego wasn’t a little inflated right now.
Doyoung opened a bedroom door, tossing you onto the bed.
You looked around. The room was large, with a leather chair in the corner. It was obviously a guest bedroom. There weren’t any personal items, and it was decorated in the most generic way possible.
The door shut loudly, catching your attention. You watched as Johnny locked the bedroom door behind him. You watched as his tall figure made his way towards you. You sat at the foot of the bed as Doyoung and Johnny stood over you, making you feel smaller than you already are. The music was muffled through the bedroom walls. You looked up at the two men, waiting for one of them to say, or do something.
Doyoung leaned down and gave you a small kiss on the cheek, leaving you confused. He walked away from the bed and took a seat on the chair in the corner of the bedroom. You watched him, not expecting the words that left his mouth.
“Go ahead Johnny, show her what a whore she is.”
Johnny leaned forwards, grabbing the back of your head. The kiss wasn’t soft or romantic. It was rough, full of hunger. All the sexual tension fading away between you two at last. His hand grasped your wrist, his lips trailing along your neck. Your breath hitched as he brought your hand to his stiff bulge. He let go of your wrist, bringing his hand to the thin strap that held your dress up. He pushed it down your shoulder, his fingers trailing down your arm.
You brought your other hand down to Johnny’s pants and undid his belt, unlooping it and throwing it to the side. You could feel Doyoung’s eyes bore into you. The of your boyfriend getting turned on by watching someone else fuck you, was enough for you to go along with this.
Johnny broke the kiss, pulling you up off the bed. He slipped your dress off your short body, admiring every dip and curve. He realized how small you were, and it did things to him. The idea of you taking him whole, him bulging through your stomach, god.
“Leave her heels on.” Doyoung commanded, receiving a nod from Johnny.
“On your knees.” Johnny commanded. You dropped to the floor with no hesitation. You could feel the wetness between your legs already. You unbuttoned Johnny’s jeans as he took off his shirt. You looked up and admired his build. Fuck, he was so sexy. You pulled down his jeans and underwear, watching his cock spring up.
Johnny roughly grabbed the back of your head, making you look up at him. You fluttered your eyelashes up at him. He took in how pretty you looked right now, on your knees, willing to take whatever he gives you.
“Don’t act cute.” Doyoung warned you, making you swallow hard.
“I’m going to fuck that pretty little mouth of yours sweetheart, alright?”
Before you could even respond to Johnny, he shoved his dick into your mouth; hitting the back of your throat. You gagged around him, tears already starting to brim in your eyes. Johnny grabbed the sides of your face, thrusting his hips at an aggressive pace. Saliva was spilling out of your mouth, and your mascara streamed down your face.
“God fuck. Look how good you take me.” Johnny groaned.
You could hear Doyoung undo his belt from the side of the room. Doyoung rose from the chair and walked over to you and Johnny.
“Put your hands behind your back.” He ordered, and you did so.
Doyoung took his belt and tied your hands together, Johnny never letting up on his pace.
“That’s enough.” Doyoung told Johnny.
“Give her the real thing.”
Johnny pulled out of your mouth, a trail of spit leaving too. You coughed loudly. Before you could fix your breathing, Johnny pulled you up by your arm and tossed you onto the bed. Doyoung sat at the top of the bed, watching your every move.
Johnny flipped you over onto all fours, so you could look your boyfriend in the eyes. He pulled down your lace panties to your ankles and lined himself up with your entrance, teasing your folds. You let out a soft moan.
“Johnny please.” You whine. Johnny looks up at Doyoung, waiting for permission.
“Remember the rules. You can’t come in her, and I’m the one who will make her finish. Not you.” Doyoung says strictly, Johnny nods in agreement.
“Look me in the eyes, baby.” Doyoung tells you, as you do so Johnny enters you with no warning. His length fills you up to the brim, his tip rubbing against the perfect spots. His large hand grips onto your waist tightly. A string of moans leave your lips as you adjust to his size.
“Fuck,” Johnny groans, as he starts to pull out.
“You’re so fucking tight.”
He nearly pulls all the way out till her slams his hips back into you. You shut your eyes tight, the pleasure getting to your head. Doyoung grips your jaw,
“Look at me.” He ordered, practically forcing your eyes open.
Johnny’s pace is fast, aggressive and almost animalistic. It has you gripping the sheets.
“Little fucking whore.” Johnny grunts, hitting you deeper than before.
“You have a boyfriend, and you’re letting me fuck you.”
Johnny continues, he spanks your ass, the movements of his hips become faster and you can barely handle his dirty words.
“Johnny-“You moan out, the pleasure making you feel high.
“Shut up,” he growls wrapping his hand around your throat, pulling you up so your back is flushed against his chest. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, feeling him squeeze around your neck
“I don’t want hear anything else from that mouth of yours.”
You can feel a pit forming in your stomach. Your moans become more frantic.
“Don’t come.” Doyoung warns you. You give him a pleading look, you can barely hold it.
“Only I’m allowed to get you off do you understand slut?” Doyoung spats at you.
Johnnys thrust become sloppier, you can hear his moans becoming louder.
“Y-yes”
“Yes what?” Doyoung ask
“Yes daddy, fuck!” You yell as Johnny hits your most sensitive spot making you fall forwards.
Johnny pulls out of you, flipping you onto your back. Johnny kneels over your stomach on the bed, jerking himself off. His moans become high pitched, his cum spreading all over your stomach. He gets off you and stands at the end of the bed, trying to catch his breath. You wish you had the same pleasure. Doyoung grabs your legs and brings them to the left side of the bed.
Doyoungs lips attack your neck, sucking ever so gently. A small moan leaving your lips, bucking your hips up to his clothed ones. Doyoung pulls away from you with a tsk noise.
“Now baby girl, relax. We’ll get there, let me just have some fun.”
“But daddy-“
“Don’t.” He warns you, eyes burning into you.
Your core burned with the need to touch him. You wanted to be able to feel him, make him feel good. It was killing you. His hot breath hovered over your right nipple, taking it in his mouth. You let out loud moan at the feeling. He played with the other, pinching it in between his fingers.
You rubbed your thighs together, wanting to come so badly.
“Doyoung-“ you groan.
“Tell me what you want baby girl.” He teases, removing his mouth from your nipple.
“Y-your mouth. P-please.” You whimper, exhausted.
“Good girl” He praises before leaving kisses from your boobs down to your stomach. He lowered his head down to your inner thigh, placing small love bites. You groan at every single one. You can feel his hot breath over your core to which you grew more frustrated with his games.
He dragged his finger down your wet slit, earning a small moan from you.
“So fucking wet. Dirty whore.” Doyoung growled, dipping a finger into your heat.
Johnny sat at the edge of the bed, watching the way Doyoung handled you, hearing your pretty little moans and seeing how your cheeks become red.
“God look at you.” Doyoung taunted, adding another finger picking up his speed.
“A fucking wreck.”
He lowered his head between your thighs, giving your clit a kitten lick.
“Oh fuck.” You moan out, gripping the sheets. You were already so close before that it wasn’t hard for that familiar pit in your stomach to return. You started to thrash your hips around unwillingly. Doyoung gripped your hip with his free hand, pinning you into the mattress.
“God, stay fucking still.” He growls in annoyance, dipping his head back down. He swirled his tongue around your clit, sucking roughly. He began to curl his fingers in you, hitting the spot he knew sent you over the edge. You can feel your orgasm building up and your moans sounded louder.
“Doyoung, Im going to cum.” you moan, moving your arms around.
“Come on, baby girl,” He said, changing his tongue for his thumb, he circled your clit harshly. The friction was enough it self to send you over.
“You know Daddy doesn’t like to repeat himself. Come.”
And just like that, your orgasm came making you throw your head back in pleasure. He continued to help you ride out your orgasm, feeling the way you clenched around his fingers. Once you were done, you could feel Doyoung remove his fingers from you. He placed his fingers into your mouth.
“Suck whore.”
You did as you were told, sucking your own juices off his fingers. He removed them from your mouth with a pop.
“Are you satisfied now?” Doyoung asked you. You nodded your head with a smile.
“Yes, thank you.” You look over at Johnny and he gives you a small nod, as he finishes getting dressed.
“Johnny you can go now, let me take care of my girlfriend.” Doyoung said helping you up off the bed.
You two watch Johnny leave the bedroom, you look up at Doyoung with a smile.
“What?” He ask.
You stare at him a little longer, a small giggle leaving your lips.
“What Is it?”
“Baby, impatience isn’t a good look on you.” You mock him, gaining a small laugh from him.
“Oh you’re in for it.” He warns leaning towards you
“Oh really?”
“Yep. Totally in for it”
His lips hover over yours. You lean up to kiss his lips, but he pushes you away. You give him a confused stare. He moves his hands towards your waist, and then tickles you with a big gummy smile across his face.
“Doyoung stop!” You laugh.
#nct#nct smut#doyoung#johnny#doyoung smut#johnny smut#johnny fic#doyoung fic#nct fic#neo culture technology
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Writober 2020 - 18 (photograph)
Extra, extra, read all about it: someone’s about to fucking die. As they should, because who the hell honestly believes that Commander Shepard and Commander Shepard are straight anyway?
(ME1)
---
“Do you think either of them know they were seen yet?”
“Doubt it. Definitely explains the last name thing, though. How long do you think it's been?”
“Can't have been more than 5 years, they both did N7...”
Alistair was starting to get tired of people whispering. Didn't they know it was rude?
Ok, maybe his nerves were still a little frayed from the whole touch the Prothean beacon, figure out Saren is trying to kill everyone, become the first human Spectre thing. Nobody could blame him that he was a little cranky that morning as he left his office to get the Normandy where it needed to go. The fact it was actually his ship definitely didn't help either. After years of being enlisted or an officer, having free reign was... deeply uncomfortable.
He'd probably get over it, but... yeah it felt weird.
Still, even in his terrible mood it was impossible to miss the stares and the whispers from the crew whenever he walked by. Part of him had wondered if it was them gossiping about how he'd gotten the Normandy off Admiral Anderson, but... it didn't feel right. Professional whispering from the ranks was one thing, but this felt... oily. Salacious, maybe. Definitely something personal, which just amped up the gossip even more.
Now, had he been in a better mood, Alistair probably would have ignored it. The thing was, he wasn't. So he would have to be forgiven if he took a right when he should've gone straight and walked straight behind the two gossiping crew-mates. Neither of them noticed him, of course. He was quiet like that.
“What was that about N7?”
He shouldn't have enjoyed just how much air the two men cleared when they jumped out of their skins, but forgive him if he wasn't feeling just a little petty that morning. They were both 3 shades lighter as they turned to face him, and the sweat was really starting to pour down their faces. On his scale, he'd call that shit terrified.
Good.
“C-Commander Shepard, sir! W-we didn't see you there!”
He smiled, but there was nothing friendly about it. “Yes, that tends to happen when someone comes up from behind you. Now, to reiterate. What was that about N7? Have either of you been asked to join the training program? My congratulations if so, it's an honor even to be asked.”
He would know – he had it tattooed above his ass. And he definitely knew nobody on his ship was in active training at the moment. It was one of the perks that came with being the Normandy's CO. The other was getting to see moment like this transpire before him.
The larger of the two was sweating bullets as he tried to figure out what to say. “N-no... nothing like that, sir.”
“Just...” the words failed the smaller one. His face screwed up as he seemingly gave up whatever he was holding back. “How long have you been married to XO Shepard?”
…
Alistair blinked slowly. “What?”
If he hadn't known better... someone had just asked if he was married to his XO. His XO, Commander Bo Peep Shepard. His XO, Commander Bo Peep Shepard, his best friend and probably the closest thing he had left to family.
What the entire fuck?
Big one rubbed the back of his neck as his face began to take color again. “It... was on the extranet a few days ago. Pictures of you two together. It implied that you two were married. We thought it would explain the shared last name and all...”
Alistair let a sigh leak from between his teeth as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “A tabloid with nothing better to do, I assume.”
He let the pinch go, shaking his head. “Mind sending that site to me? I think I need to do some correction next time we dock at the Citadel.”
The two were already racing for their omni-tools, but he could tell the question still loomed in both their eyes. After all, he could just be trying to quash the story to keep his so-called marriage quiet. These crew, lovely as they were, didn't know he or his XO well enough yet.
Maybe that was why he rolled up his sleeve to expose his tattoo. “And by the way, I think this should clarify your questions.”
He tapped the wing colored in the gay pride flag for emphasis. The other, shaded in trans pride, went without saying. Years later, he was still glad he had gotten it during pride, even if it had been somewhat of a spur of the moment choice. Ironically enough, he had gotten it with Bo – she had the lesbian colors around her ankle.
You know, because she was a fucking lesbian and he was gay as hell.
“O-oh... yeah I guess it would.” Someone's face was turning red. “Sorry, Commander...”
“Just don't spread it around anymore.” Down went his sleeve. “Now, I'm going to go see where this website is hosted...”
With that he left them, the details blooming to life on his omni-tool screen. Once they got back to the Citadel, he and Bo were going to have to take a little trip...
---
“I'm going to murder them when I get my hands on them.”
“Don't worry, I won't stop you.”
The port hissed as Bo and Alistair left the Normandy's decontamination lock and entered the Citadel docking bay. It had been a few days since the discovery on ship, and now they were at the heart of the matter. Someone was about to get their clock cleaned, and it wasn't going to be mechanically.
'Don't forget ,you two, you don't have to testify against each other in court since you're married and all~!'
Al shot a glare back at the Normandy as he pressed the communicator in his ear. “Joker-”
'Just kidding, commanders. I know what teams you two play for. I guess we'll know you found them when we see the blood spurting.'
“You better fucking believe it.” Bo's eyes were practically glowing with hostility as she stomped down the walkway that connected their ship to the dock. Around them hummed the activity of the Citadel proper. Ships sailed above their heads, people went about their business... and somewhere, a tabloid was about to get the unholy shit kicked out of it.
Alistair checked the details on his omni-tool as they began to walk. “I traced the website's ISP to a building in the Wards. Chances are, they're there.”
“If not, they're going to tell us where the fuck they are.” Her knuckles were white as she slammed them together. “Damn straights and their height kink. How the hell could anyone think I was straight?”
Yeah, that was his question – she was built like a tank and had pink hair. How the hell could anyone read that as straight?
“I mean, they thought I was straight somehow, so they don't have a great judge of character.” Alistair tapped at his omni-tool. “It would be faster if we got a taxi, but walking is an option too. Up to you honestly.”
Bo didn't answer him. He realized why once he figured out he had lost his handy patch of shade. The other Spectre had left him in order to go storm over to a nearby newsstand where people were whispering. Given a few were running...
Well, he ran over to make sure nobody died.
“I can't fucking believe this!”
She pounded her fist on the counter, and Alistair felt like doing the same once he saw it. A new story had popped up, front cover with a picture that definitely wasn't photoshopped. Bo was front and center, chatting with a rather lovely lady. Anyone who could read body language could guess the two were probably flirting, which is probably why someone had been so quick to take it. Above the photo, a bold headline proclaimed “Commander Shepard: Newlywed in Bisexual Affair?”
Oh boy... whoever took that was a dead man.
Bo rounded on him, fire in her eyes. “Taxi. Now.”
Alistair didn't need to be told twice – they were soon in the back of a cab, headed towards the Wards. To say a burning silence fell over the back was putting it mildly. Bo was gearing up to kill someone, and he... well he didn't want to be next in the tabloid.
The cab driver unfortunately didn't have the sense God gave to rocks as he surveyed the two. “Trouble in paradise, huh? Well, there's always divorce court.”
Alistair grabbed for Bo before she could crash the cab. “We're actually going to clear up we're not married!”
“Ah, that's a shame. You two make a cute couple, being the first two Spectres and all. You could've made some wicked strong biotic kids.”
“Sir when I tell you I'm the only thing keeping you alive right now, please believe me and keep driving.”
By the time they were dropped off in the Wards, Alistair was pretty sure he had lost 10 pounds keeping the cab driver alive. His arms were killing him as they stepped out onto the sidewalk in front of a nondescript office building. It had a listing on the side, telling the different businesses inside. Their next stop was on the fourth floor... so if anyone got tossed out of a window, they would probably live.
“Alright, so let's figure out what we're-”
He didn't get to finish his statement. Bo was already walking in like a woman on a mission, leaving him in the dust. All he could do was chase after her, eventually catching up on the stairs to the second floor. All the while, a receptionist chased after them.
“Excuse me, you can't just-”
Bo turned back to face her dead on. “Spectre business.”
Their tail shook a little, but... Al was pretty sure it was because she was kind of into that. She was definitely blushing a little as she backed up. “R-right... fourth floor is what you're looking for, ma'am.”
Alistair sighed as he held up his hand in an apologetic gesture. “Sorry, we'll be done quickly. Thank you for your information.”
And then he was chasing after Bo again as she took the stairs two at a time. Before long, they were standing on the fourth floor's landing. There was only one door here, labeled with a sign that called themselves Citadel Daily. They were one of many tabloids that supplied the Presidium and Wards with the lack of news people loved, and no doubt they were one of the more popular ones. After all, they were creating quite the buzz about humanity's first two Spectres.
A buzz that was about to be repaid with a lot of violence if he didn't mediate.
He managed to grab her wrist before they went in. “Let's just... try talking first.”
“It's not you they're calling a cheat, Al.” She tugged her arm away. “I'm handling this my way.”
And then she pushed the door open, probably burying the knob in the wall. All motion stopped on the other side as she stormed into the room, coming to a stop at the heart of it. All Alistair could do was enter after her pulling the door out of the wall as he did. Yep... the handle went straight through. That was going to require a patch.
Bo glared at the room filled with desks and people. Someone was reaching for a camera, a device that abruptly died as her eyes glowed red. She might not have been good with technology, but she knew how to break it just fine. No more devices came out after that – they were smart.
“I'm only going to say this one, who the fuck is John Jacobs and when are they getting the fuck out?”
Nobody moved at first. Alistair could hardly blame them as he scanned the room. Mostly, he just saw shocked wanna-be journalists and gossip columnists who had never expected this kind of treatment. After all, they weren't printing anything particularly hard hitting. Of course, their mistake had been printing about the Shepards... which was a bad idea to say the least.
He spotted someone twitching in the corner of the room. Rather than alert Bo, he began to pick his way over. Nobody would look at him, but that was fine. He had his eye on the man trying to hide behind his desktop, looking at though he might piss himself.
And as he should – from the looks of things, he was working on his latest article.
“'Commander Shepard spotted coming out of a bar with-'” He shook his head, sighing. “Mr. Jacobs, if you were even half a journalist you would know I can't drink on my medication. That's just sloppy work right there.”
The man definitely pissed himself as he backed up in his seat. “C-Commander Shepard!”
“One of them, anyway.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Bo, found him.”
Maybe that was mean, but the photoshop job on that picture had been particularly atrocious. So maybe he didn't feel bad that hell on wheels was storming over, ready to put her fist straight through this guy's head. At least he'd stop it if it came to murder...
Maybe.
Bo came to a stop in front of the desk. His desktop fizzed and died as she loomed over him. Alistair definitely smelled piss and something else as the full weight of his crimes fell upon him. And of course, nobody was dumb enough to take pictures. After all, they were Spectres and about ready to prove what happened if you tried to smear them.
Though... was it actually a smear if they did make this guy's life a living hell?
“John Jacobs?”
His answer came out shaky. “Y-Yes, that's me. I didn't expect the story to get so big, b-but-”
Too late. He was already out of his seat by the collar of his garish shirt. Bo had him at eye level, and Al was there to avoid the pants region as he watched the carnage unfold. Someone nearby had a camera up - a blue-eyed gaze quickly put a stop to that. Bo wasn't the only one who knew how to break technology.
“What the fuck was going through your demented little fucking head?” She brought him closer. “You got some kind of height kink, you nasty fuck?”
John was sweating bullets. “N-no! I just... a lot of people think you two are married! It's the same last names!”
Yeah, Alistair was doubting the lack of height kink, but at least he was trying to be honest. He was still probably going to get the shit beaten out of him, though. He kind of deserved it, what with insinuating they were not only married but... ugh... straight.
Really, how the hell did anyone think that of them?
Bo's eyes said murder and her fists were willing to comply. “Let me put it to you this way, that receptionist down there is more my type than this manlet will ever be.”
“Hey, I'm a maligned party too, don't take out your frustration on me.” Alistair rubbed the back of his neck anyway – talking about his height was a sensitive subject. “Anyway, we're very clearly not married.”
“Or straight.”
He nodded. “Or straight, yes that's kind of important. So maybe you should print a retraction on those articles and apologize so you don't get thrown out a window. You'd probably survive, but it would sure hurt a lot regardless.”
Judging by the grip on his collar, he wasn't going to get out of this without some form of damage... but maybe they could keep him from getting tossed out a window. Besides, if he pissed himself anymore he was going to start leaking on the floor. Talk about gross.
John's eyes traveled from Shepard to Shepard. “T-this is cen-”
“Oh come the fuck on, she's ready to murder you do you really wanna complain about censorship? Read the room, man.”
Normally, Alistair didn't swear. However, this man clearly didn't have sense in his head, so maybe shock methods were needed. At least he shut his mouth that time as he thought the offer over. Maybe he should think a little faster.
Bo started to move to the window. “Well, he had his chance.”
“No, wait, stop!” Both his fists couldn't fit around her wrist. “I'll print the retraction!”
She stopped a few feet from the open window. “And you'll stop writing about us. No more Shepard stories, understood?”
He started to look like he wanted to argue, but... that window was pretty damn close. Sweat dripped down his forehead as he considered his options. Then he got inched a little closer, and the decision was clearly made.
“U-Understood... I won't print anymore.”
And then he was dropped to the floor in a sad, soggy heap. Bo wheeled around and glared at the entire room. Alistair stepped forward as well, feeling much more pleasant as he surveyed the terrified reporters sitting before him.
“I hope you all understand, that goes for anyone here. Nobody gets a free pass out of defenestration, understood?”
And then his eyes glowed as another camera died. “No story about this either, by the way. I've added you guys to my omni-tool news feed, so don't think just because we're off saving people that we won't hear about it.”
Given everyone else looked like they might need a change of underwear once they left, that was another pact sealed. With any luck, they wouldn't get too stupid about their stories. Of course, if they did... it wasn't like they were going to move buildings.
“Good talk.” Bo was already throwing the door open. “Let's get the fuck out of here, it smells like piss.”
Alistair was already following her out, sighing in relief as the door shut behind them. At least nobody had died, or even been really bodily harmed in the process. As far as missions went, this was one of their more successful ones.
Then again, Bo hadn't gotten to work her frustration out, so...
“Want to hit up the Alliance training course to work out that energy before we go see Anderson?”
“Fuck yes.” Bo was already heading in that direction. “I still should've thrown him out the window. Damn your sensibilities.”
Eh he could take her being mad at him if it meant nobody died. Dissatisfaction was part of being a commanding officer.
---
Retraction on previous stories concerning Commander Bo Peep Shepard and Commander Alistair Shepard
The Citadel Daily would like to publish a retraction towards two stories it printed. Along with this, we extend a heartfelt apology to-
“Well, I guess they got the message.”
Joker was chuckling as the message read over Alistair's omni-tool. All three were gathered in the cockpit a few days later, after a successful mission on a nearby planet. The news had come in as they were on the shuttle, and he had been waiting to listen.
Bo nodded as the message finished. “They fucking better... still don't know who took those damn pictures. They're lucky I didn't find them...”
Alistair nodded as he killed the feed. “Oh, speaking of. Turns out they're a freelancer. I think I have a beat on them-”
No doubt he was starting another hunt for some poor sap, but... well, again, he didn't feel bad. After all, they had thought he was straight. Someone had to pay for that grievous misstep. And with any luck, maybe this one wouldn't wind up out a window either.
You know, maybe being the CO wasn't so bad after all. He got to schedule time for defenestration duties. Talk about a perk of running the show...
#writober2020#ramblinganthropologist's writing#Alistair Shepard#Bo Peep Shepard#Commander Shepard#paragon shepard#renegade shepard#you can figure out who is who pretty quickly#if not they're color coded for your convenience
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40 Fanfic Q’s Answered
the server wants answers, and they want them now!!! from this post
1. Describe your comfort zone—a typical you-fic.
Smut and pining all the way. Also, falling in love via laughing
2. Is there a trope you’ve yet to try your hand at, but really want to?
Eh...I don’t think so, I’m always 100% self-indulgent, so what u see is what I want
3. Is there a trope you wouldn’t touch with a ten foot pole?
Anything that has to do w mega sadness, I just Don’t. I can’t write anything sad, and if I do, there’s certainly gonna be A Lot of comfort afterwards
4. How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Care to share one of them?
I have 91 wips, motherfuckers!!! My latest wip is a daddy month fic!
5. Share one of your strengths.
I think, since I’ve been trying to be sparser in my words, I’ve been able to better emphasize what isn’t being said
6. Share one of your weaknesses.
No action scenes from me are ever good, lmao
7. Share a snippet from one of your favorite pieces of prose you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.
It was late at night, when he started to cry.
He didn't want to cry, but he did.
It's been years since he's last let himself feel, or was it since he was last allowed to feel?
He choked on his sobs, uncomfortable with his tears. He's forgotten how to properly cry. His entire body is shaking, and the connections between flesh and wire hurts.
He stops crying. He starts crying again.
This continues for another few minutes, until he feels as if he can't possibly have any more tears.
He wipes his face, pulls the covers up to his chin, and falls asleep.
(from Twilight on the Sea) I really like this bcus I don’t think I’ve ever really typed out crying in this way, n I tried to make it feel like it was a lot
8. Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.
Cass was quiet for a moment. “... you know what? Maybe I’ll just go up there and surprise you.”
“If you do, then you already ruined the surprise, haven’t you?”
“Eh, I dunno about that. Seeing my beautiful face is a shock for many people.”
“Oh, I’m sure of it.”
“Hey, Koda? I don’t know about you, but it’s really late here.”
“Really?” Koda asks, then remembers that time zones exist. “Oh crap, what time is it over there?”
“It’s midnight. What about you?”
“It’s eight o’clock. Only four hours difference?”
“Oh hey, that’s not so bad.”
“It reduces our time,” Koda said, a bit whining.
“Not if I have anything to say about it.”
“What are you going to do? Move here? Send for me?”
“You’ll see.”
(from Together) This was a gift for one my best friends on here, @suncatchr , and it’s about his ocs!!! I love this a lot bcus while it’s a soulmate au, it’s not ur average soulmate au, and I tried making it as original as possible! And this blurb, I just wanted them to effuse so much love w/o having to say love...cries
9. Which fic has been the hardest to write?
If this is by posted fics, then I remember writing Look What You’ve Done to Me was very very difficult, bcus, since it’s also a gift, for @daniel-bryan , I wanted to write it Good, n since my buddy usually wrote from the love interest’s pov, I felt a weird pressure to write Daniel Bryan’s pov as good as I could
10. Which fic has been the easiest to write?
2 of my fics in Spanish!!! My oc centric one, Rayos y Centellas, and my shyan one, oye cariño, solo pienso en ti ! Turns out writing in ur native tongue makes everything easier
11. Is writing your passion or just a fun hobby?
It’s a very passionate hobby!!! I just!!! try to pour all of my love into everything I write!!!
12. Is there an episode above all others that inspires you just a little bit more?
I’m not sure!!! I just watch movies n quietly scream to my gay lonesome bcus No One Ever Watches Movies ;-;
13. What’s the best writing advice you’ve ever come across?
To just keep writing n not stop for details or forgotten lore, bcus it’s important to write down what’s firing u up Right Now. Of course, it’s very difficult following that ;;-;;
14. What’s the worst writing advice you’ve ever come across?
“No adverbs!” “No ‘said’!” “It has to make grammatical sense!” sometimes things Need those
15. If you could choose one of your fics to be filmed, which would you choose?
Was gonna say my rewrite of the end of The Rover, but actually, my SPN fic Ube . Shit was peak inspired
16. If you only could write one pairing for the rest of your life, which pairing would it be?
Eridirk (Eridan Ampora/Dirk Strider from Homestuck) all the way. The one otp that’s stayed thru thick n thin <3
17. Do you write your story from start to finish, or do you write the scenes out of order?
A little mix of both, and tbh it depends on the fic, but I tend to write chronologically
18. Do you use any tools, like worksheets or outlines?
I’ve started bullet pointing my ideas out before writing my fics, and so far, it’s been helping me be more streamlined n get my things written out faster n clearer!
19. Stephen King once said that his muse is a man who lives in the basement. Do you have a muse?
Is the need for representation in all the niche movies I keep watching a muse?
20. Describe your perfect writing conditions.
In my dark room, w music blasting from my laptop, the TV w a soft hum, I have the perfect playlist to get the mood right, curled up in my blankies, n my plushie Sweet Pea by my side
21. How many times do you usually revise your fic/chapter before posting?
Zero, we rely on autocorrect & editing while typing and die like men
22. Choose a passage from one of your earlier fics and edit it into your current writing style. (Person sending the ask is free to make suggestions).
YOU DON’T SEEM SCARED.
Del Rio shrugs. “Working as a cop, it makes you numb to some things. It’s good, it lets you react to things as you should, and not how you’d want to.”
YOU SOUND SAD ABOUT THAT.
He makes a noncommittal noise. “It is what it is.” He eats another spoonful of his ice cream, then gets a thought.
“Can you show up?”
HOW SO?
“Can you,” he tries, waving his spoon around, “Manifest?”
I DON’T KNOW. I’LL TRY.
“I’m sure you’ll do just fine,” Del Rio assures, and he can feel the air around him smile. The...world, he thinks, around him shifts just slightly, and there seems to be a chink in the armor for a moment before it goes away, as if someone had wiped the glass clear. He realizes that this is her, trying to show up in a physical form, step out of the phone.
He doesn’t know where to look, but then his confusion wanes when a butterfly shows up, fluttering towards him. It lands near his phone, skitters a bit, flaps its wings.
“Lucy?” he asks, transfixed on the butterfly. Its orange wings are bright under the sunlight.
I THOUGHT I’D TRY SMALL, FOR MY FIRST TRIAL.
“Well, you certainly nailed it.” He smiled warmly at the butterfly, and he had the crazy notion that it smiled back at him.
(adapted from The Policeman , the first fic I posted!)
23. If you were to revise one of your older fics from start to finish, which would it be and why?
Yeah, probably The Policeman lmao, I remember it today n I cringe a little at the very obvious refs to other fandoms I made. Despite that, it continues being one of my best hits!
24. Have you ever deleted one of your published fics?
Never
25. What do you look for in a beta?
I’m just thankful to have gotten a beta in general in life at all
26. Do you beta yourself? If so, what kind of beta are you?
I beta’ed once, and since English is my 2nd language, I pointed out syntax confusion, typos, n continuity errors
27. How do you feel about collaborations?
Can be done, it’s just that I am frightened. Tried doing that, it fell thru, n the new thing that came up, I still have to hold up my end of the bargain ;;-;;
28. Share three of your favorite fic writers and why you like them so much.
cries omg ok so!!! Chancy_Lurking ( @lurkerviolin ) is one of my faves, n we’ve become friends, n their Felix+ Sense8 series is the reason for it all, and u know it’s good if it managed to make a friendship that’s last its good while, and also they’re so nice, and we vibe so well!!! thegoatz ( @daniel-bryan ) is also now one of my bestest friends ever, and I wuv him so much, he is such a good kid, n he’s so enthusiastic about writing, and I hope that spark never goes out!!! And adamwhatareyouevendoing ( @skatingthinandice ) bcus she’s doing a rewrite of The Last Kingdom where it’s all gay where it should be and vnjkdfsnvkd God, what a wonderful friend!!!
29. If you could write the sequel (or prequel) to any fic out there not written by yourself, which would you choose?
I actually technically am working on a sequel to @rettaroo ‘s A New Kind of Touch ! Another promise I have to hold up eventually ;;;-;;;
30. Do you accept prompts?
Sure!
31. Do you take liberties with canon or are you very strict about your fic being canon compliant?
I try to follow canon as much as I possibly can!
32. How do you feel about smut?
( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
33. How do you feel about crack?
Eh, it’s alright. I don’t normally look for it, so I don’t really have a solid opinion on it
34. What are your thoughts on non-con and dub-con?
I don’t want to read it, but I have so far encountered it twice very amicably: once here in a ficlet, and another in a longer fic on AO3, and they were both very good
35. Would you ever kill off a canon character?
Probably not, I don’t like sad things!
36. Which is your favorite site to post fic?
AO3! I’m RedLlamas on it!
37. Talk about your current wips.
Lmao which one. The one I’m currently working on is an impregnation kink turned “oh no I actually do wanna have a family” feelings fic!
38. Talk about a review that made your day.
Gonna be real w u, the best comments I’ve gotten have mainly been from my friends, who either write a paragraph or two going into detail of the fic, or just send a one sentence comment that’s just “screams!” I’ve gotten very few paragraphs from other people, n they’re always so!!!
My friends are the realest :’)
39. Do you ever get rude reviews and how do you deal with them?
The perks of being a rarepair writer is that the only people who read my fics are the ones actively looking for content!!! And they can’t complain about my work because No One Else Is Writing For It!!!!!!
40. Write an alternative ending to [insert fic title] (or just the summary of one).
All my fics are masterpieces, so I’ll do a summary change! For don’t you just know (exactly what they’re thinking?)
Dakota finds himself in unexpected heartbreak, and the universe decides to bring him in the direction of a night club with a dancer with stars on his skin.
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AVENGERS V X-MEN STAGE II : ROUND I : QUICK STATS
MATCH-UP → gwenpool v kid omega
LOCATION → wakanda
WINNER → draw
CASUALTIES → kid omega switches sides
QUENTIN: Namor was being dramatic again-- no shock there. And as he talked to the crowd, Quention made his way over from off to the side, feet carrying him towards blond hair tinted pink. “Surprise seeing you here.” Quentin crossed his arms and stopped when he was a few feet away from Gwen. He sounded unamused. “Come to join the fun?”
GWEN: While the rest of the Wakanda response team headed down to face the Aquaman with the bad brows Gwen had trudged up the stairs so that she could occupy the roof of one of the city’s incredibly tall buildings. Pulling her gun out, she loaded the weapon and perched it on the edge of the roof and trained her sights down below. Not that she was planning on shooting anything for a second. Wakanda was lit even if she hadn’t made a Black Panther sighting yet and it looked like a hurricane had passed through. With her stomach flat against the concrete and one ankle crossed over the other, she bobbed her head back and forth to the music that rang out from inside her mind. “Why? This is, like, the best part of the story. I wouldn’t miss this for the world.” Rolling over, Gwen stared up at the sky through pink tinted goggles. “I am the fun. You’ve come to join me.”
QUENTIN: Quentin rolled his eyes, hearing the chatter in his mind grow louder as he tuned into the crowd below them. “Looks like the party is starting without you.” He gestured over towards where the mutant and Avengers side were starting to get riled up. “You and that-- dinky gun of yours--” With a flick of his fingers, Quentin moved Gwen’s gun a few inches with a jolt of blue energy. His gun was way cooler.
GWEN: “I’ll live.” Her limbs sprawled out as if making a snow angel there in the dust and grime of the rooftop. “See, once I go down there I’ll inevitably no longer be able to talk to you and my romantic subplot needs this time. But -- HEY!!” She shot upright when he touched her gun. “Do not touch the Reverend Al Sharpton. That’s my holy gun.” Her brows furrowed as Gwen jumped to her feet so they were standing nose to nose. “What’s up with the bad attitude, huh?”
QUENTIN: “I don’t have a bad attitude! This is how I always am!” He yelled back at her, arms widely gesturing out from his sides. Not a complete lie. Quentin was on edge lately because of his powers, but his classic asshole demeanor was a constant. A few long seconds ticked by as the two of them stood like that-- close together, but not touching. And then he dove in, crashing his lips against hers and grasping her face with both hands.
GWEN: “THEN YOU’RE A LIVING BAD ATTITUDE.” Gwen hollered back. He was only slightly taller so while they weren’t eye to eye she was very close to his lips and then -- yep. There it was. The Phoenix was literally slapping the shit out of her friends and Gwendolyn Poole ( of no relation to one gwen stacy ) was very passionately making out with the enemy. She wrapped her arms around him as well, kissing him until she pulled away with shining eyes. “Hey, I like you. Outside of I need you to stop myself from fading from existence kind of like you. Trippy, right? So wild.”
QUENTIN: When Gwen finally pulled away, Quentin was practically seeing stars. His eyes were locked on hers as she was speaking and it took a long moment for him to realize what exactly she was saying. And when he did, he took it with a grain of salt. “Are you serious?” It was both a question of disbelief and confusion. After all this time, and this weird thing between them, she was talking about feelings now? But he didn’t back away from her, even with the doubt he was feeling.
GWEN: Rapping a fist against his temple, Gwen nodded. One arm was still hooked around his waist but she made no moves to let go. “Do I seem like the type to lie to you? We polled our viewers and the answer is a resounding yes. Hurtful, but true. You’re never going to understand how my head works,” she told him honestly. “And that’s for the best. You don’t want to see in there. It’s like Deadpool on crack. A bunch of empty spaces crammed too full. BUT. I know a lot. Like, a lot a lot about everything and everyone. I know that I like you. Maybe it started off as a scheme to get attention so I wasn’t a side character, but now I’ve missed the big bad fight and that has to mean something. Am I making sense? I think I’m making sense? God, I’d kill for a thought bubble right now or some nice exposition.”
QUENTIN: “You never make sense.” It made Quentin chuckle, even it annoyed the hell out of him sometimes. “But, I kinda like it. Keeps things interesting.” His draw to her was inexplicable in a way, but with the amount of times they ended up lip-locked he was inclined to believe that maybe it was worth exploring. Quentin had never been boring, and Gwen certainly wasn’t boring either. It could work. But she was right-- he would never understand that head of hers. He was a telepath-- and a good one at that-- but it was a complicated and weird place in there. “As stupid as this sounds.. I like you too.”
GWEN: Aw, this was nice. Cute. Totally irrelevant and taking from the main story. It was late !! People needed to go to bed !! ANYWAY - she was, believe it or not, happy. A bit confused which was rare but happy all the same. A boom rocked the building then, the whole structure shaking. Something j-u-i-c-y was happening. Abruptly dropping her arms from him, Gwen ran to the edge to grab Al Sharpton so he didn’t fall over the edge. Another rang out then and the buildings structure began to fall. The part underneath her began to crumble ( which was honestly so on brand ) and then Gwendolyn Poole dropped like a stone from the top of a very high building towards the street below.
QUENTIN: Were they having a moment? In the middle of a battle they should have been fighting in? Apparently they were, and Quentin questioned the weird warm feeling in his gut as he looked at Gwen and almost smiled. That’s when the battle-- whatever the hell was happening over there-- took a turn and the solid structure beneath their feet started to not be so solid anymore. When it crumbled, Quentin’s instinct kicked in and he managed to catch himself before falling too far. But as he hovered in midair, hands outstretched to create a forcefield between him and any falling debris, he watched as Gwen fell and hit the pavement beneath them. ”Gwen!” He called out to her but was unable to catch her-- his powers were weak as it is, it was a miracle he even caught himself. As quickly as he could go, Quentin lowered himself down to where she fell and when his feet hit the broken concrete he ran over to her.
GWEN: A good long fall never got old. Well, it never got old once you woke up from said fall and got over the bump in your head. Sure, sure. Gwen fell for fun because a girl named gwen falling off of stuff in the marvel universe??? Literal classic. Plus, y’know, there was the fact that she always tended to live. Her admission to Howard the Duck that she jumped off of things to see how far she could go wasn’t a lie. Everyone had to have hobbies. For a little bit everything was dark and her mind recalibrated itself to where she was, who she was with and whatever version she currently was. There was a rock in her mouth that she spit out before Gwen moved some debris around and sat up. “Man, not having super powers is the worst.” She jabbed a finger onto the knot that was forming on her temple and then winced in pain. Yep, still regular ol’ flesh and blood. “Hey -- where’s Al Sharpton?”
QUENTIN: Gwen sat up and Quentin skidded to a halt. She had just fallen how far off of the roof of a building and she was.. Fine? He watched as she spit out a rock. He watched as the girl with supposedly no super powers survived a fall she should not have survived-- right after they talked about their feelings. He stood there, a good few feet away from her, stunning and mouth hanging open. “What. The. Fuck. Just happened..? How are you alive?”
GWEN: “Because I’m not dead. Duh. This, dear readers, is where you say aw at the cute omega telepath who doesn’t understand how I don’t have powers. Which, I do. Sometimes. But not these kind. I’m Special K.” She stopped chattering and looked down at her pinned legs. “Hey, homie, can you move that rock? Kinda pinning me down and I can’t go all 127 hours because I won’t regrow.” Wiggling her feet under the rocks, Gwen debated trying to eat through the rocks herself. “A) how bad do you think they look under there? B) Do you still like me? C) Are you glad I’m not dead?”
QUENTIN: “Yeah, of course I’m glad you’re not dead--” He sounded frustrated but it was because he could barely comprehend what was happening. With his telekinesis, Quentin moved the rock off of her legs and then slowly took a few more steps towards her. “And I still like you. I think. I don’t know, this is.. Weird..” He crouched down next to her when he was close enough. “So you do have powers then? You lied to me before?”
GWEN: While she waited to be freed Gwen picked up a rock and weighed it in her hand before tossing it as hard as she could towards a building. The sound of broken glass was like music to her ears. “No. Not really. I don’t have powers. Not a mutant, not an Inhumans. I’m... different. It’s part of my gig, like why I’m here. So what I can do is very limited and based on that, and it depends on what run and setting I’m in. West Coast Avengers Gwen is the pretty version of me that everyone likes and I was super held back. When I’m solo and not a supporting character or team member I can do more. You’re going to think I’m Crazy with a capital C, Quintavius. It’ll blow your mind and concept of reality. I can’t really say I have powers. It’s more of a being sort of thing. Other than the falling kink. I’m a good faller, as you can tell. I can’t even tell if anythings broken. Just got this cool knot on my head.” Again she poked it. Even though her legs were free Gwen made no move to get up since he was already on her level. Instead she just wrapped one ankle over the other. “Hey, I met your girlfriend Idie the other day as well. Did I mention that?” It wasn’t a deflection on purpose and her tone remained light. “She’s nice. Hit me in the face, but nice. Does any of this changing you liking me? I don’t want a new love interest.”
QUENTIN: Too much information. Gwen was going a hundred miles an hour and saying things that, once again, made no sense, and it all ended with her talking about Idie. His stomach twisted at the name. He tried not to think about her. For a while he tried to get her back and after her gave that up it was a chapter of a book he tried to close forever. And now-- “She punched you?” That was all he could manage to say after that huge dump of info. “Listen, can we just.. not? Clearly I like you and the fact that you’re not dead is still freaking me out. So please--” He stood back up and then held out a hand for her to grab so he could pull her to her feet. “--can we get the fuck out of here now? I’ve had enough emotions for one day.”
GWEN: “I may have been goading her - which is totally part of my charm - but yeah. Turned her fist to ice and knocked me into a wall. Not that I minded. Told her that she’d find someone better to love her and bought her a pizza. No offense of course. We needed to get the fledgings and Trauma was being creepy af. You can read about it in the chat log.” Taking his hand, Gwen pulled herself to her feet and shook out each leg. Yep, still working. The good ol’ Poole fall routine had worked again. She was thanking her writers for that. “I’m pretty hard to kill, and there’s always another version of me. It’s headache city, trust me.” Without dropping his hand Gwen yanked him to where part of her gun was protruding from the rocks. Unearthing it, she cast a sad look over the ruined weapon before tossing it back to the ground. RIP to the Reverend. There was another waiting at home. Naming it would be fun at least. “Sure. As long as you aren’t all Phoenix team and raid my crib I’ll take you home with me. Innuendo intended and not intended.” Dragging him through the rubble of where a fight they hadn’t participated had clearly been completed, Gwen flashed him a smile. “I missed you, Q squared. Don’t worry. We’re almost at the end.” And they were, for better or worse.
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Naegiri Week Prompt #3: Bright
Here’s prompt #3 at an inappropriate hour for something that was supposed to be up yesterday... whoops! To be honest it was a bit of a challenge writing this one, because I couldn’t quite get it where I wanted it to go for quite some time. Hopefully thought I have ironed out enough of the kinks for you to enjoy it, though! Hang in there guys, it’ll be holiday time soon!
That is the last time I send my boyfriend out drinking with the guys from the police station.
The guttural belch that escaped Makoto’s mouth only punctuated this thought as she tried to guide his drunken feet to their doorstep. Her arm was wrapped tightly around his waist as she tried to support his weight, unusually surprised at how much he was letting himself droop like a ragdoll.
“Sorry.” He slurred, not daring to look up in to his girlfriend’s eyes, clearly trying to avoid the shame of her disappointment. Surely he must have known how awkward this was for her, having to pick him up from a night with her colleagues who had insisted on taking him out. By far he was more hammered than any of the other guys there, and it did not take an idiot to know that they had done that on purpose. By day those men may have been respectable members of the Tokyo police force, but off the job they were some of the goofiest and rowdiest men Kyoko had ever met. They had probably encouraged Makoto to drink just a little too much to make him break out of his innocent shell a little bit, while he happily obliged in an effort to fit in with the group. Next thing they knew, Makoto was so drunk that he could barely stand and they’d had to call her to come take him home.
He let out another belch, wincing immediately after and swallowing hard. “Sorry.” he muttered again, making no effort to mask his humiliation. “This… must be really gross for you.”
“To be honest, I have barely noticed.” She lied, trying to guide his feet so he would be able to step up on to their front porch. There was no reason in telling him that she agreed with him, for it would only put him in a worse mood. For whatever reason, he was particularly weird in his drunkenness.
All things considered, she and Makoto had gotten drunk together before. Every once in awhile it would not be uncommon to find the two of them buzzed off white wine, just because they kept pouring it and pouring it to drink with their dinner. She was accustomed to white wine Makoto, who would fling his arms around her and pepper her with kisses and beg her to cuddle with him. She was accustomed to a drunk Makoto who would braid her hair and tell her how pretty he thought she was; a drunk Makoto who would bake cookies with her at midnight just because they could. That was white wine drunk. What she was seeing now was whiskey-beer drunk, and though she knew it was not the beverage that made the difference, she could honestly say she did not like it as much. Whiskey-beer drunk Makoto was emotional, and hateful towards himself, and always looked as if he was two minutes away from bursting in to tears. She wasn’t accustomed to the drunk Makoto who apologized to her over and over again the whole car ride home, or the drunk Makoto who asked her what she could possibly see in ‘a loser like him’. Whiskey-beer drunk Makoto was like watching all of her boyfriend’s self-esteem issues come present themselves in the open, and god was it hard to see.
“I’m sorry.” He murmured again as he completely missed where she had directed his foot to go. They tried again once more, and once more he failed. Shame began to write itself all over his face as he stared down at his feet, trying to put all of his focus in to having his foot get in to the right place. She could see it eating at him for a moment until all of the sudden, he seemed to wince.
“Are you alright?” Kyoko asked hastily, raising her eyebrows at him. If there was something wrong with him, it was better that she be in tune with it rather than just assuming he was overly drunk and emotional. She herself had learned the hard way that nothing good ever came from bottling these things up.
“I don’t feel well.” He whimpered softly, squeezing his eyes shut tightly. He seemed to wobble as he stood, and for a moment she feared he might go crashing to the ground. “I’m really dizzy. Can you sit me down?”
“Of course.”
As carefully and gently as possible, Kyoko lowered both Makoto and herself on to the ground so they were sitting on the path to their front door. He gave in to her willingly, with that look of discomfort and slight fear still taking hold of him. Perhaps it was the dim light of the streets, but she had begun to notice that he was looking kind of pale. Even paler than he had looked when she had first picked him up.
“Are you okay, Makoto?”
He shook his head. “Kyoko…” was all he managed to groan, swallowing hard. Even now he still refused to look in to her eyes, far too ashamed to show her the fullest extent of his vulnerability. She had not said a word about her disappointment, but it seemed as if he could feel it — far beyond the levels of it that were even there. “I’m sorry… I ruined your night. I embarrassed you in front of your colleagues. I’m a really bad boyfriend, aren’t I?”
Before he could get any further, she found herself shaking her head rather frantically. “No, no you are not.” She protested, scooting herself over closer to him in hopes of creating a connection. “You are a wonderful boyfriend, Makoto. You have not ruined anything. I am not embarrassed.”
Despite her hopes that her words might have convinced him to perk up, he still sat there stubbornly with tears in the corners of his olive green eyes. The longer they sat there, it seemed like the worse he was getting.
“Makoto… did something happen while you were out? Did they say something to you?” She inquired, reaching over so she could grab hold of one of his chilly hands. The moment she tried to grasp one of them, he quickly tugged it away from her. She would have been hurt, if she had not heard him start to sniffle like he was about to cry.
“No.” He sighed, “Your colleagues were nice to me.”
He sniffled once more, not refusing her attempt to place her hand on his cheek. Gently, she turned his face towards her so he would be forced to meet her eyes. That was the only way that she would really be able to get out of him what was wrong, she decided.
“Then why are you acting this way? It’s unlike you. You are usually so happy and giggly when you have had too much to drink.”
“I just am.” He huffed stubbornly, still trying to find a way to look anywhere other than her face. As hard as he was trying to avoid her, she had noticed that his bottom lip had started to quiver. Something was deeply, deeply wrong. One way or another, she was going to get it to the bottom of it — it was her job as a detective. “That’s all there is to it.”
Letting out a frustrated sigh, Kyoko released his face and shook her head.
“What am I going to do with you…?”
As it turned out, a close-to-tears boyfriend would not be the most challenging part of Kyoko’s night. Instead, dealing with her boyfriend’s terrible ability to drink and then retain it all took that cake. Pretty much as soon as she had stood him back up on to his feet, he threw up like a firehouse for about thirty seconds and then nearly collapsed back down to the ground. It was a miracle she had been able to catch him in time. Now she was sitting with him in their bathroom as he cried in front of their toilet, cursing himself for everything he had ever done.
Though it stung, there wasn’t much that she could do for him. All she could do was sit next to him and rub his back as he cried, trying to give him some vague sense of comfort as he went through this long line of emotions. Surely some time he would be willing to tell her what was eating away at him, but right now he just seemed preoccupied with the idea of crying his eyes out. So she sat there with him, and let him sob. She let him bawl in to her shoulder and vent about all of these insecurities that did not make any sense to her. She just sat there with him and managed his drunken state, offering the occasional kiss on the forehead and the gentle hushing of her voice. Anything to settle him, even if it was just by a little.
“I don’t know why you do this to yourself,” He hiccuped, pushing his face in to the crook of her neck as if he desired protection. “You could have any guy in the world if you wanted, but you’re dating a whiny loser like me. You don’t have to settle, you know. You could dump me and nobody would blame you. I know I wouldn’t.”
“Shut up.” She sighed, squeezing him tighter. Like hell she was going to break up with him just to find someone ���better’. He may have had his flaws, but she did not want anyone else. She had never once wanted anyone else. He was the first person she had ever fallen in love with. When she kept her fingers crossed, she also tended to hope he would be the last.
“I don’t know why you’re even putting up with me at all, or why anyone does. After what I’ve done, I don’t deserve nice things in my life like you.” He blathered on, unwilling to respond even to Kyoko’s commands for his silence. With the way he spoke it was as if a cork had been popped off a champagne bottle; and the liquid had started gushing out everywhere with no way of stopping it. It felt like the cork on Makoto’s innermost insecurities had been opened, and there was nothing anyone could do to stop it. All Kyoko could do was sit and listen.
“All that you’ve done? What do you mean by that?”
Her boyfriend sniffled once more, and made some futile attempt to try and hide his face from her further. At this point he was so close to her that she could feel his lips on her neck, something that in any other circumstance would make her shiver. At the current moment though, it mostly made her wonder what on earth he was trying to accomplish by shielding his face from the world. It felt as if he was beyond the point of wanting to hide himself from her, and instead thought it would be optimum to simply conceal himself from the world.
“The Tragedy stuff.” He muttered quietly, tears still travelling down his face and dripping off his chin. All of the sudden his sobs had become much more silenced, and his body had been consumed by tremors. “The School Life of Mutual Killing, too. I did a lot of awful things.”
“It was the world’s darkest hour, of course you may have done some terrible things. So did everyone. What matters is that you try and do better.” She soothed, “You have already done so many good things with your life, Makoto. You have made some mistakes, but in the end you provided hope to so many people-”
She had been ready to continue when the sound of his voice cutting in to her own had made her stop cold. Something about his tone gave her chills, and created a feeling akin to having swallowed a bowling ball. She couldn’t bother finishing her thought then, for now she was too concerned about him and had to listen.
“I didn’t provide Maizono with any hope.” He murmured, grasping tightly on to her shirt. “Or Kuwata. It was my fault both of them died in the first place. If I had been smarter, they wouldn’t have had to die.”
“There was no way you could have known…”
“I could have known for Fujisaki and Oowada. If I had watched Fujisaki and Oowada more carefully, maybe I could have stopped the mistake from happening. Maybe if I had been nicer to Yamada, he wouldn’t have followed Celestia so blindly. I could have saved Ishimaru the same way too. And Oogami? I should have tried harder to get everyone to believe in her..”
“You know none of that was your fault-”
“What about Yukizome then? The Great Gozu? Kimura? Izayoi? Kizakura? Andoh? Sakakura? Gekkogaharra? Bandai?” He rattled off a list of names, sounding more and more frantic with each emerging name. It seemed as if his frustration and grief was building with every new name he spouted from his lips. “What about my parents, Kyoko, should I have known better then? Or how about when I brought that same shitty fate on to you?!”
Kyoko gripped him like somebody was threatening to rip him away. All of the sudden she understood what was making him spill his guts out in a drunken stupor, and that only made her want to hold him closer. If she could have it her way, she would hold on to him that tightly until morning came.
“They do not blame you for what happened to them.” She whispered, begging to every known god in existence for him to hear her words as true. The certainty of his safety was depending on it, if her hypothesis was correct. “You have to know that. What you keep seeing is a lie, a nightmare made up by Enoshima to convince you to die so she would be better off. It was just a video. They cannot and would not want to hurt you. You just had a bad dream last night, and you have driven yourself crazy thinking about it all damn day.”
“I can’t stop thinking about it.” He gasped desperately, “I can’t stop… thinking that there was something more that I should have done… I thought maybe all that alcohol would drown out the screaming so it wouldn’t be so loud… I was wrong. I was wrong, and now I’m scared and I don’t know what I’m going to do.”
“There isn’t any need to be scared.” She assured him, planting another soft kiss on his sweaty forehead. Then, slowly but surely, she eased his face out of hiding so her gaze could meet his big, wet eyes. “I am right here with you. I always have been. Whenever you need me, Makoto, I shall always be here.”
Slowly, the small boy nodded. New tears began to spill from his eyes and follow the tracks of the others as he gazed up as her, still trembling like he had been in the cold for hours. His expression remained harshly disconsolate, but even so she could see a flicker of brightness in his eyes. Contrary to his beliefs, all that was good about him was not gone. In fact, it had never left.
“Will you stay with me until the morning, Kyoko?” He asked quietly, to which she replied:
“I’ll stay here and hold you until the sky becomes bright.”
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