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portgasdwrld · 10 months

Text

📂Op men + sitting on their lap.

Featuring: Zoro & Ace, GN!reader

Warning: Suggestive, established relationship

Note: I got carried away😭

Zoro

The bar you walked in was crowded with people and your eyes searched for the figures of your crew and your grumpy boyfriend. You had left to verify something on the ship, but as you expected the crowded bar had little place now for you to sit and enjoy the night too.

You walked around and found your green haired man chatting with the crew and drinking down a bottle of sake. You stopped behind him and softly flicked the back of his head earning a groan from him as he slightly turned in your direction.

-Oh you’re back, I was almost gonna go after you.

He said with a light smile. You smiled back and rolled your eyes at him.

-Yeah sure and you would’ve gotten lost the moment you would’ve stepped outside of this place.

-I’m not that bad with direction.

-Yes you are that bad, that’s not even out to debate.

Nami retorted in your défense with an annoyed look.

-Agree.

Sanji followed after exhaling a cloud of smoke.

-How about you stay out of this ero-cook?

Zoro growled as he leaned his body over the table and gave Sanji an annoyed glare.

-He’s right though baby.

You chuckled as you put your hands on his shoulders to calm his tension.

-Oi, Y/n !

Luffy screamed out your name in excitement in between two bites. You looked over your captain and furrowed your eyebrows waiting for him to say something.

-Why are you standing up? Everyone else is sat!

-Oh, well the bar is pretty packed. There isn’t any chair left…

-it’s okay, come sit on my lap.

-huh?!

You replied shocked. Zoro was never the type to introduce PDA and you were sure it wasn’t the alcohol that was affecting him. Your heart fluttered at the idea of him growing comfortable enough with you and your relationship to be more affectionate with you in public. It was a small gesture but coming from him, you felt warm just at the idea of sitting on his lap.

He didn’t let you have much time to think about it as he took your hand and pulled your body near him to grab your waist and dragged you on his lap. You blushed as you looked up at him and he simply smirked back. You looked away a bit shy and fixed your position on his lap, making sure it wouldn’t be uncomfortable for him.

-Since when do you have the courage like this to pull me into your laps in public, you teased him under your breath so only he could hear.

He emptied what was left in his bottle and looked back at you.

-Was I supposed to let my pretty lover stood up, wouldn’t be very manly of me.

-Yeah it wouldn’t be..

You nodded as you stole a bite of his food while ignoring how his nickname gave you butterflies. He shifted slightly under you to grab another bottle on the table, pressing his large chest on your arm. His hot breath brushing your neck and a secretive low grunt leaving his lips.

You didn’t know if it was because it has been a moment since you two had sex or if your hormones were simply higher that night, but you felt your body getting hot. You grabbed a glass of water on the table and changed your position to face the table. His hands immediately grabbed your hips and he pushed them forward.

-Are you trying to make my dick hard or what. Don’t move like that without telling me, he said annoyed.

As much as his actions were turning you on, the idea of making him hard and then have him fuck you stupid, didn’t even cross your mind…well until he directly asked you.

You looked over your shoulder with now a mischievous look and smiled at him.

-I wasn’t, but now the idea doesn’t sound so bad.

-Y/n…

-What~ little fun won’t kill you.

You said while pushing your hips a little bit against his bulge. You tried to be as discreet as you could be, but Usopp was catching up on what was happening and was giving you two a dirty glare.

Zoro wasn’t going to fold so easily so he just pushed your body to sit on only one of his lap.

-Now, be good and I will see what I can do for you later.

If only he knew he was in for a long night.

Ace

You sigh as you knock on the door of the infamous commander who stole your heart. You barely saw him all day as a mission was approaching and he was looking through everything, making sure the plan would go well.

He quickly showed up at dinner to grab his food, gave you a kiss on your forehead and ran to meet White-beard who had asked for him and few others commanders. You knew it wasn’t his type to barely eat, so you decided to check up on him and grab some food for him before the kitchen closes.

-Who is it ?

You hear his muffled voice filled with exhaustion.

-It’s me, I brought you some food.

-Come in

You open the door and see your boyfriend’s face lying on top of a pile of papers, tired eyes and a weak smile.

-My saver is here, he speaks in a small voice as he sees the big bag of food you brought. You chuckle as you walk closer to him and pat his dark wavy hair.

-I was worried seeing you barely eat today.

-Im so exhausted, It’s like my brain is going to explode from all the information pops has been feeding me.

-He trusts you with those, so I imagine it’s a blessing and a curse at the same time.

-Yeah, but Marco has been helping me a lot, along with the others, so we are making it a little lighter for each other, he says with a tired chuckle as he pulls your body into his laps. He tucks his head in the crook of your neck and let a tired sigh as he closes his eyes.

-Finish your work quickly so you can go to sleep. You are about to fall unconscious on those papers, you whisper softly as you caress his hair.

-Mmmm don’t want toooo, he mumbles childishly against your neck making you giggle.

-Aceee, quickest you finish, quickest you’re free , my love.

He leans back into his chair and stares right into your eyes. They glitter as he looks at you, giving away that he’s planning something.

-I will if you keep me company, he retorts with a huge grin.

You furrow your eyebrows and nod, not seeing anything wrong with it. You haven’t spent much time with him anyway, so that seemed like a good idea. You are about to stand up to go lay on his bed, when his large arms firmly keep you in place.

-But you have to stay on my laps. I want you close to me.

-Ace, you know you’re not gonna get any work done with me on your laps.

-Why not

-Because we both know how that ended up last time, you roll your eyes and squint them at him as you put your hands on his chest to free yourself. He softly put them away and leave a quick kiss on your lips.

-Maybe that’s the type of work I wanna do, he replies with a smirk.

-Suddenly, you don’t seem so tired.

You tease him with a smile while wrapping your arms around his neck. You gently press your lips against his and you feel his warm hands grip your hips as he kisses you back. You pull away to catch your breath and watch his eyes stare at you with nothing but lust.

-Oh shit, the food! you suddenly remember.

-It’s gonna be our aftercare snack, he announces as he picks you up and put you on his bed.

Yeah, he passed out right after y’all were done :/

He ate the food though when he woke up in the morning :D

#one piece #portgas d ace #portgas ace x you #portgas ace smut #ace one piece #one piece x y/n #one piece x reader #roanoa zoro #zoro imagine #zoro fluff #zoro smut #zoro headcanons #one piece zoro

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messycunt · 1 year

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So.. I just red your Hucow Collection on Ao3 and that alternate AU where MC is the Breeding Cow had me well.. Listening? Reading? Blushing, Screaming? Ahem. No because imagine Cow Hybrid! MC as the farms breeding Cow🗣

All the Bulls fawn over her and just want to breed her silly. Of course, crowley would make immense Profit from having his bulls mate with such a pretty little cow! Or the rivalry that would blossom between the boys! Oh and not to forget MC's best selling Milk! It just tastes so sweet that everyone wants some💕

Just wanted to share that thought with you! (feel frew to write about it)

May i take the place/role of 🎀 - Anon if it isnt taken already?<3

Eat enough and stay hydrated Lovely💋

WELCOME BOW ANON I whipped this up in like 15 mins just throwing stuff out there

characters: Cater, Trey, Ace, Deuce, Crowly, Vil, Rook, Epel, Riddle, Idia, Kalim, Malleus, Lilia

cw: hybrids(hucows), lactation, breeding kink, exhibitionism, three/foursome, double penetration in one hole, dumbification, afab reader

so so much can come of this like just go along w me here kay?

Ace and Deuce being too impatient to take turns with you like usual but too horny to bother properly fighting so they resort to trying to shove themselves into your dripping hole at the same time. Stretching you almost to your limit but it's ok because you'll endure it for them right?

Cater and Trey share you often as well but not in the way you'd think, usually their "shared quality time" with you involves Trey doing all the actual pussy pounding and Cater off to the side or in a corner somewhere(taking a few pics and vids for later) at his own personal insistence. He'd rather enjoy the view and Trey knows how to get you worked up better anyways in his own words.

Riddle's favorite thing about you is your breasts, especially drinking from them. It's warm and comforting and he enjoys cuddling up close to your chest and suckling from you after sex more than he does the sex itself. He would die before he would admit that to you tho.

You didn't think Crowley would let the boys have all the fun without having his own fill from time to time did you? Sure he keeps you all more than taken care of and well fed out of the goodness of his heart but it gets so tiring and stressful sometimes. Surely you wouldn't mind keeping him "company" under his desks while he works would you?

Kalim thinks you're adorable! Your eyes are so pretty and your ears are so cute and soft to the touch, well his are too but yours are special cus they're yours! He just loves touching and licking and kissing you all over.

The Pome trio oh boy. Whether it's making out with Epel as he desperately gripes at your body while you're both pounded by Rook and Vil respectively or innocently taking Rook and Vil up on their offer to service you with a full body oil massage they've always got something that they thoroughly planned beforehand ready for you.

Idia's intense infatuation[read obsession] with you is more than enough to have him act out of character from time to time. He is unexpectedly blunt with you about all the almost grossly kinky things he'd like to do with you, or what he'd have you do to him in most cases. Unsurprisingly tho he loses most of his tack in the moment, poor boy gets so deliriously pussy drunk you'd think he's the one getting their guts rearranged.

Malleus is rather possessive, shocker I know. It would be delusional of him to think he could have you to himself in the traditional sense but he at very least likes to have you to himself in the heat of the moment so sharing you is completely off the table… with one exception. Lilia finds the love Malleus has for you cute and has inclined himself to join in on your endeavors once or twice. Bringing his hands to your chest from behind you to pinch and pull at your leaking nipples while you ride Malleus like your life depends on it. Whispering cheeky things into your ear before locking eyes with the large black pelted bull and urging him to pump you full of his seed and impregnate you with his calf.

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cyborg-franky · 2 years

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Hey Franky! Since headcannons and requests are open; can I please ask for Ace and Marco, together or separate, with an S/O who just doesn't make that much noise when they have sex? A lot of authors always write 'moan' and 'cried', and while that is sexy, I only barely whimper and gasp, so those scenes feel a little fake.

My darling, you are valid and I can see how alot of fics with screaming and moaning in passion might not connect. Not everyone is loud but I think it has become the standard in writing because there is a belief that good sex is loud. It's not the volume of the act that matters.

You can have the best sex of your life and barely make a sound, it can make your toes curl and your head swim and all you can do is let out a little mewl.

I've been loud and near silent and have had partners that fit into each and it's all valid. I wanted to do these headcanons because you deserve to feel seen also.

Sorry I went on a rant haha.

N-SFW UNDERCUT

Ace

Ace can be loud or quiet depending on his partner or the situation.

If his partner is loud he’ll be loud.

So when he’s fucking you and you let out soft murmurs against his skin he’ll let out small grunts.

He watches your face, seeing how dazed you look, how you look so blissful like an angel as he carries on thrusting into you like a sinner.

He’s always a little self-conscience about how well he is doing and he is used to being able to gauge his partner on the sounds they make but he feels your nails gripping his muscles, he feels your panting breath on his neck as he speeds up and that’s enough for him.

Ace doesn’t mind being the slightly louder one, muttering words of affirmation into your ear as you push back against him.

He doesn’t need a screaming crescendo to know when he’s made you come apart. Your eyes open wide, your mouth open with silent bliss as your body shakes and trembles.

Marco

Marco isn’t much of a moaner himself, so he doesn’t consider it an issue that his partner isn’t very loud. Not to say he doesn’t like making his partner scream his name, he enjoys both.

Honestly? You don’t need to be vocal because he talks enough for the both of you. He’s into dirty talk so much that he can have a full conversation with himself while he watches his cock disappear into your waiting hole.

“You take my cock so well yoi,” He’ll praise and brush your hair off your face as you give him breathy moans, small but he still doesn’t miss them.

How you make a little mewl when he pulls the length of his cock out, rearranging you over his desk just to thrust into you again.

He doesn’t mind if all you can answer him is a simple nod of your head when he whispered into your ear. “Like that? Like me fucking you over my desk like this?”

Marco lives for every silent gasp and moan, every slap of your palm against the surface he’s fucking you on or against.

When you cum for him he doesn’t need the rest of the crew to hear, he chuckles and kissing your neck, savoring the soft murmurs, all for his ears only.

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grey-sides · 2 years

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hello greye :) not sure if you’re still doing prompts but i had a harringrove headcannon i’ve been thinking about! billy being uncomfortable with sexual intimacy but going along with it because steve is so touchy and steve thinks billy is ok with it but finds out one day that billy actually isn’t

Heyyyy, anon! This scratched my brain in the best way. Anyway!

Billy says some not so kind things about himself in here, as a warning. They are, organically, coming from my own brain and my own struggle to accept my asexuality. It's not judgement or a belief about ace folks, just how it can feel to be ace in an allosexual society. I hope you enjoy! (And as a final reminder, asexuality is a long and broad range of experiences. Some aces are sex-repulsed and others are not, in my personal headcanon, I think Billy would not be sex-repulsed under certain circumstances <3)

Billy has a reputation, he knows he has a reputation, spent a long time building and maintaining that reputation because it guards his heart and keeps it safe. But it’s not real, it’s not a reputation he wants anyone he actually cares about believing.

Steve believes his reputation. Takes it at face value, goads Billy about it sometimes when they tumble into bed together. Asks him how high his body count is, watches Billy with hungry eyes when he goes down on him.

Billy hates it. Hates that Steve believes it, doesn't think otherwise, asks but Billy never brings himself to say no. He hates being touched like this, with Steve's hand on his ass while he presses kisses to his jaw and neck. He hates it because he loves Steve and he wants Steve to love him too, all the parts of himself he can't change.

"Stop," he mumbles, licks his lips and clears his throat. "Stop."

Steve pulls away, mouth swollen from the kisses. They're red and slick and his eyes are wide with concern. "What? What's going on?"

Billy wants to scream and cry or throw something and tell Steve to get out. He owes Steve this though, to try and explain it to him. Billy hates to admit it, but he knows Steve is going to try and understand.

Steve's hand leaves his ass and soothes down his side instead. He's looking at Billy with those big, brown eyes and he's so worried that it makes Billy want to puke.

He shifts a little, unconsciously tugging his shirt around himself. He hates hiding too, but it feels a bit unfair to Steve to leave everything hanging out when he doesn't want Steve to touch. Not right now. Maybe not ever.

"I...uh...I don't like sex," Billy says, crashing into the words like a bull in a china shop. "I never have and I'm sorry, I know you do. It's just-"

"Hey," Steve murmurs, setting his hand on Billy's knee. "Hey, it's alright. You don't have to be sorry."

Billy looks at him and sets his jaw. "I do, I am sorry because I'm fucked up and this is how you have intimacy and I hate that I can't give this to you."

Steve looks stricken, his thumb starts to brush soothing circles into Billy's knee which he can't really feel through the thick denim of his jeans. But he's not running away and he's not forcing Billy and all of those things makes his chest ache.

"Don't say that shit about yourself," Steve scolds gently. "You don't have to justify yourself. It's okay, we can stop."

"But I don't know if I'm ever going to be comfortable with it!" Billy snaps, shoulders sinking. "It's not just tonight, it's always like this. I always feel like this."

"Okay," Steve gentles, ducking his head to meet Billy's eyes. "Okay. There's nothing to be ashamed of, Billy. I'm not going to stop wanting you just because we can't have sex."

Billy shakes his head, grits his teeth. "You say that but you don't know that." Everyone always gets tired of it, Billy's been here before.

"You trusted me enough to drive your car last week, I think you can trust me when I say that's never going to be a reason I stop wanting you."

Billy's face crumbles and a single tear slides down his cheek. He's a disaster, but Steve is willing to hold him together. Steve doesn't say a word about his hard dick when he gets off the bed to grab Billy a hoodie and a box of tissues. And he curls around Billy when he flicks the TV and VHS on to play a movie.

Billy thinks he could love him and it makes his chest ache.

A Week Following

"Hey!" Steve calls when Billy opens the front door to his house. He has his own key now and even though Billy hasn't put out, he hasn't taken it away. "Got something for you to check out!"

Billy puts his keys down on the front table and kicks off his shoes as he walks into the house. Steve's in the kitchen and Billy can hear the egg timer indicating he has something in the oven.

Steve pushes something across the counter and gestures to it. "Got it from Robin, it's called a 'zine and she got it from her queer literature club. Anyway, they talk about asexuality in it? I thought maybe you might get something out of it."

Billy should snap and snarl at Steve for it. But instead he just traces his fingers over the lettering on the front. There's a short table of contents and he flips to the page with shaking hands. It's too much, to read all the words, but it's there. Every thought and feeling he's ever had.

His hands are still shaking when he snaps it shut and there are tears on his face when he looks back up at Steve.

"Hey," Steve soothes, walking around the counter to cradle Billy's cheeks. He dips to kiss his forehead and gives him a small smile. "It's a spectrum, right? Really highbrow stuff in there, but you're not...you're not broken, Billy."

Billy can't speak, doesn't know what words to say anyway, but Steve has gone out of his way to weasel this fucking thing out of Buckley for him. It means something. It means everything.

"Some people say they get comfortable enough to have sex and some don't and that's okay. Wherever you fall, is okay and I don't want you to force yourself to fall in one direction because you think it'll make you happy."

Billy can only nod but he wraps his arms around Steve and presses his ear to his chest. Steve's heartbeat in his stupid, warm, loving chest. His heart that makes his big dumb brain act like this, willing to learn and understand even when it goes against his nature.

"Okay," Billy mumbles. He pulls back enough to press a kiss to Steve's chin and tucks back into his arms until the oven timer goes off.

When Steve goes to pull his bread out of the oven, Billy flips through the rest of the 'zine. It's cool and he wonders if Buckley might be able to get him in on the thing. Might be helpful to just know that other people like him are out there.

And when he looks back up at Steve, he knows he doesn't have to, but he might be able to. Because, at the end of the day, it's just Steve. Having sex with Steve is different than anyone else because Steve doesn't care. There's no performance here in this house wearing threadbare sweatpants and old tank tops. There's no expectations or pressures. There's just Steve and his big brown eyes and his desire to understand.

He's not going to force himself. But he's never had to force himself to love Steve either, so maybe that could be part of it. One day.

#harringrove #drabble #greye writes #stranger things

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sixstepsaway · 2 years

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Great post about purity culture in fandom! If you don't mind me adding on, I think another major contributor is Baby's First Literary Criticism. It as been common online to see people critiquing media through queer, feminist, etc. perspectives, and a push for diversity and positive representation of marginalized groups. Problem is, they use that purity culture framing instead of viewing these issues at the complicated, nuanced matters they are. It doesn't allow room for a particular piece of media to be good in one way or lacking in another. It doesn't take into account that one person from a marginalized group's real experience is another's tired trope. If you try hard enough you can make everything problematic. For example, is it reasonable to argue that Ed is a problematic stereotype of as moc because he is a violent pirate? Well, it's a pirate show about pirates. Lucius might be considered the 'gay best friend' for constantly giving advice, but does that really count when all his friends are also gay? And this stuff is so nuanced it's easy to pick and choose what argument is affective against your least favorite show/character/ship/etc. Voila, now everyone who likes, uh, Blackhands is a racist, homophobic, misogynistic abuse apologist. -dd anon

Oh you are absolutely right and you should say it.

I saw someone saying how nice it is to have OFMD because until OFMD the only queer shows we had were things like Queer as Folk and they said how Queer as Folk was bad rep and cringe and bad

and I wanted to scream because Queer as Folk is not bad rep! QaF was representative of a lot of gay communities. Queer people didn't have marriage equality and couldn't adopt, so they didn't ride the heterosexual relationship escalator instinctively, and so their lives ended up looking entirely different. Club culture and promiscuity was a big part of queer culture even as recently as 2005 (and I would argue it still is) and a lot of that is to do with the conversations that go on at those places about consent or just because going to a gay club you are surrounded by other queer people, instead of having to hope and pray someone is like you at a coffee shop.

Good rep vs bad rep is a reductive argument, in my eyes. The issue is quantity rather than quality, which I realize is backwards to how it usually is, but... in a show like OFMD, where you have [frantic finger counting] I'm willing to say fourteen main characters all of which are stated word of god to be queer in some way? One of them bodying the trope of 'gay best friend' doesn't actually matter

because he's just one among many. I'm-- Okay, my labels are many because my brain is a mess, but to boil it down to something simple I'm a bi ace agender/maybe genderfluid person (idk i havent dug enough into my gender stuff yet i've been putting it off like a knitting project), and I do not fucking care about the discourse around Toni Topaz or Jughead Jones

let me explain: in Riverdale there are two characters I just mentioned. Toni Topaz is bisexual and Jughead Jones in the original comics was asexual but has been in sexual and romantic relationships in the TV show.

Lots of people yell that Jughead isn't rep and he could've been, how upset they are he wasn't made ace like the comics, etc etc

I don't because I am an ace person who has had sex and relationships and plans to do so in the future

so Jughead boning Betty in s1 does not bad ace rep make. He's never looked at Betty or whoever and gone (as far as I know, I'm behind on the show), "Man, I am so cishet. I am so sexually attracted to you in an allosexual manner." though I wouldn't put it past the writers to have him say something like that lmao

so maybe he isn't sexually attracted to her but enjoys sex with her anyway. Maybe he isn't romantically attracted to her but loves her anyway (though asexual =/= aromantic but that's beside the point)

and Toni Topaz has been criticized for being a "slutty bisexual stereotype" or whatever, but... she's fine? She's just... a person living her life? She fucks Jughead, she fucks her girlfriend, she fucks... idk, I think she has a boyfriend now I'M BEHIND OKAY

to me that isn't bad rep it's just... a character. Potentially not a well-written character because Riverdale (again, I am behind, maybe it's not as bad as I imagine) but still just... a character

When the 100 killed off Lexa, the issue wasn't that they killed A Lesbian, the issue was they killed the only lesbian, thus taking away 100% of the lesbians from that show at the time (though I think Niylah became a main character later? I don't know. She was just a one or two-off at the time iirc). plus the writer was a toxic piece of shit about lexa and wielded her as a way of getting his follower count up on twitter and then killed her off but that too is beside the point

We don't need good rep or to delete all bad rep from the universe. We need more rep, period. We need more lesbians and more gays and more bis and more queers and more people of color and so on. We need shows with diverse casts to be so common we don't have a metric fucktonne of people looking at OFMD and hoping for Perfect Rep because it's all they're getting.

Queer as Folk's characters felt real. They felt like real people. Brian's fear of getting old (I had the realization the other day that he was, in fact, 29, and I nearly cried), Mikey's fear of being alone, Ben's fear of bringing Mikey down with him, Justin's fear of never being loved, etc etc. None of them were good or bad rep, they just were, much like the characters in OFMD.

Assuming the party line of 'Izzy is a homophobic homosexual', are (general) you telling me you've never met a homophobic homosexual in your life? Bet you have. Lots of us have. Izzy isn't good or bad rep, he's just a guy, and a guy who could easily exist in real life, flaws and warts and all. Violent men of color exist just as much as cute lute-playing men of color do.

Good rep is not a goal we will ever achieve because the goalposts will always change. The quantity of rep, the variety of characters of color, the variety of queer characters, the variety of queer characters of color are what matters the most.

We need more rep, not to be cherrypicking and pruning the rep that looks a little ugly on the outside to some people.

Real people look ugly on the outside to some people, too.

#fandom discourse #purity culture #izzy's dd anon #also anon do you ever sleep #i feel like you're always around #are you hydrated?#take care of yourself please nonnie #we care about you #ask

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elysianslove · 3 years

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Those dick analysis are so good!!!! Idk why i just keep reading them Abufbsudjwjdj my i please ask for the setter ones? If its not trouble, of course!

honestly they’re so much more fun than i thought they’d be??? i wanted to do it cause,,, horny thoughts, but then it ended up actually being enjoyable hbsjdd but im so so happy you like them!!! and yes yes of course <3

just to clarify as i always do, this is hella unrealistic and just for fun!!

other versions: haikyuu captains dick analysis, haikyuu aces dick analysis, haikyuu middle blockers dick analysis, jjk dick analysis.

setters done in the captains version: oikawa tōru

HAIKYUU SETTERS DICK ANALYSIS

kageyama tobio

listen, i know he has a skinny penis. something about him just screams skinny penis, but it’s so so so pretty. also it’s not like unsatisfying skinny cause it still has a little girth to it but it’s not painful girth you know? he’s like 6.8 inches? idk that seems right i guess? pale shaft that has a little flush of color to it, and a pink pink pink tip, but it’s like such a pretty, pretty tip, kind of mouthwatering tbh. curves to the right absolutely it does. also he is so sensitive, like everywhere. literally just hover your fingers lightly along his dick and you’ll have him twitching and all. he’s not clean shaven because he never really understood the purpose, like the hair’s there for a reason for sure?? it must be?? but if you ask him he’ll be like “ok.”

kozume kenma

i can’t decide if kenma would have a little dick or not, so i’m gonna settle for he’s a 5.6 inches. thing is kenma knows!!! how!!! to use it!!! like in a way that he’s kind of winging it, but he’s very perceptive so he just goes with what he sees you like the most. also teases so so much before, so that when he fucks you it feels really good!! shaft is a light tan with a golden tip, and very veiny too?? also kenma’s actually clean shaven— he probably waxes pls, just cause it’s so much more convenient and shaving always itches :( idk i feel like he might forget to take care of himself so he does it just so he doesn’t have to worry about it yk

akaashi keiji

god. god. god. such a pretty dick, like you could just stare at it all day. dick pics need to be framed in gold. he’s probably 6.8 inches like kags, with the prettiest pink tip like it’s so flushed but it’s not red and it’s not a pale pink either like just a deep deep pink, and a pale shaft, really prominent veins when he’s hard. his balls are pretty too pls :( and he’s clean shaven, for sureee. akaashi would do the most to make sure you’re satisfied and happy. when it’s hard it curves against his stomach like inward but only a little, maybe at the head yk? is really into foreplay and prepping you for him so by the time he fucks you his dick is drooling for you, and it’s the most gorgeous sight ever seeing it twitch and leak ugh <3

miya atsumu

big dick and KNOWS it. flaunts it. is the type to wave it in your face while in the shower with you just cause. a golden tan to the shaft, darker tip with a slight pink/red flush to it, hella veins, hella girth, hella length. he’s a good 7.1 inches i’m not gonna lie. (osamu’s bigger by .3 inches and rubs it in atsumu’s face all the fucking time btw). he. he is not clean shaven. will make you trim it for him if you really want it clean. (but only to piss you off, he will do it anyways <3). also his dick print is. gorgeous. in sweats? immaculate. gym shorts? beautiful. those red plaid pajama pants that give everyone a fat ass? dick print is stunning. IN TIGHT ASS BRIEFS AND ITS LEAKING A LITTLE? im crying.

sugawara kōshi

omg it’s !!!! he’s so good with it. so good. loves to tap it against all your sensitive spots like your clit after being abused by his mouth and fingers? or your hole after he stretches you? 6.5 inches, sort of proportionate in terms of length and girth, but idk. suga seems like he has a fat dick for some reason? like it’s not shocking girth, but it’s definitely a stretch. idk i can just picture his bulge in jeans or tight pants to be very prominent i guess? or like. idk i can just tell he’s hiding a fat dick in his shorts does that make sense. also a very pretty tip, a pale-ish pink with a shaft that kind of starts off very pink and then pales towards the base. clean shaven!!!!!! obviously.

semi eita

such a nice dick you’d wanna just cockwarm it. but with your mouth. yk. or anything else really. it just feels so satisfying inside of you!! i can’t decide on a length (these are all hella unrealistic anyways) but maybe 6.9 inches. he just seems like he has a long dick!!! more length than girth you know? you know. purple-ish head and pale shaft, sticks up straight with no curves, and not a lotta veins!! there is one or two that are obvious, but it’s delicate yk. also i have the feeling semi likes it messy so he’s obsessed with deepthroating you and pulling out and having his dick covered in a mess of cum and bubbling spit. i will not be taking criticisms thank you <3

koganegawa kanji

oh my god he so has a big dick and literally has zero clue. no concept of size whatsoever. first time you see it and you gasp and he’s like uh oh what’s wrong like he’s not fucking packing as shit??? 6.9 inches with so much fucking girth. not so much that you have to spend forever prepping yourself, but like, it’s definitely a long time. first time you had sex he put it in too soon and you were like pls i beg you and your stupid big dick— fat, fat tan head, a lighter shaft with a golden tint to it. head flushes pink when he’s hard and leaking!!! he’s so messy with the hair down there cause he thought it was cooler but when he learned it wasn’t he was so quick to shave it all off yk :)

ukai keishin

couldn’t skip him!!! big dick big dick big dick. he has a big dick. look at him and tell me he doesn’t. it has a tan shaft, very similar to his overall skin tone, and a pinker tip, which darkens considerably when he’s hard. curves to the right and is so veiny!!! so fat, shaft is fat, head is fat, just so fat. he’s a good 7.4 inches, because why not you know, and always hits it from the back to have his balls slap against you. i— he’s not clean shaven what are you expecting. he’s not gonna shave. will actually make you choke on his dick and bury your face in his lap unashamed. (no but to be honest he would trim it for you, at the very least, not to worry <3)

i tried not to miss out on any setters too!! i looked through the schools and if i did miss any, it just means i don’t know them well enough to write for them, i’m sorry!!! but i hope you guys enjoyed !!! im sorry if it’s a messy or something im writing this with an oncoming migraine </3

luv u all mwah <3

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mayaflowerxs · 3 years

Note

Hello! I just want to say that I really like your writing! can you write nsfw alphabet with jeno, please? 🥺

NSFW Alphabet w/ Jeno

Warning: SMUTTY

A/N: THANK U SM! This one is for you enjoy ! :)

Aftercare:

There wouldn’t be much aftercare other than him asking you if he was a little too rough on you. He would be very soft on you, that inner dom of his gone as he’s at your aid for anything.

Body part:

He loves your hips. He practically has the world in his hands and that’s you. He also loves pinning you and it drives him crazy how much power he has over you pinned down underneath him. He also loves sucking hickies on them, it’s a great view for him to see when he has his hands on them. And not only does he love them when having sex he also loves them because he can easily pull you near him at any time. It comforts him when he wraps his arms around your waist.

Cum:

He loves coming all over your face, it’s absolutely glorious for him. Like a painting so valuable you can’t even put a price on it. He especially loves kissing you while his liquids is on your face, absolutely loses it when you lick some it off (if you’re into that)

Dirty Secret:

Consensual somnophilia is the best kind of sex for him. He loves how cute and innocent you look being woken up by his cock ramming you deeply. Lots of times he’ll try to keep himself from having sex with you because he tries to wait until you fall asleep. He won’t tell you out loud he likes it because he doesn’t want you to think he’s weird so he tries not to do it too often which is a bit of a bummer for him.

Experience:

He’s experienced all right. A gorgeous man like that and he hasn’t slept with two or three girls maybe more? Can’t be. He doesn’t care that everyone knows how many people he slept with even if he wasn’t dating them but if you did the same I can see him a bit competitive. Each time a man comes up to you, the reminder of you being with other guys before him ticks him off. So when you two get in bed, he makes it his goal to make you feel a lot more satisfied. To prove to himself only he can make you feel so good and no one else.

Favorite Position:

Missionary. He absolutely loves seeing you so vulnerable underneath him. Like I said, he loves pinning you and grabbing my your waist so missionary definitely is the go to position. He also loves it when he pulls your leg over his shoulder UGH, his stupid smirk forming on his face once he hits a new spot that makes you wild, ego bar raised.

Goofy:

He’s not goofy at all when it comes to sex. Even when stuff leads up to it he isn’t goofy. He also isn’t serious also. He’s kinda, dommy I guess? He knows what he wants and it’s going to happen. And if he’s angry… oh boy be prepared. He won’t even let you talk and use you like a rag doll.

Hair:

He’s in the middle. It isn’t completely bare but also isn’t a bush you know?

Intimacy:

He’s not sensual during the sex. He likes it rough for sure and he’s a pretty kinky man. You know the intimacy is raised to the maximum when he’s having a very hard time. For a man like him who likes things to be rough, when he’s stressed he actually doesn’t go rough on you. Instead he prefers to have you be on top and remind him how much love he has then repays you.

Jerk off:

He does it quite often. When he has to stay at the dorm, he’ll lock himself in his room and get off with the thought of you doing dirty things to him. He hates it when he can’t spent time with you, so he results to touching himself. Not even just when he misses you. He’ll get the random crave of touching you but since he can’t come over to fuck you in your bed, he results to masturbating somewhere near and private. After he’s done with whatever he had going on that day, he’ll visit you and finish off the rest of his urges out on you.

Kink:

Somnophilia, exhibitionism are his go two. He might have others but they aren’t as much of a strong liking for it to be considered a kink of his. He loves fucking you in places where it is absolutely not for sexual intercourse. He can’t help it, your just to hot to not fuck and doing it in public? Oh yesss.

Location:

This boy usually fucks you at your house. But if he had a location where he wishes to fuck you in every single time you two have sex is by the park in the car. You guys have done it numerous of times and he has had the best orgasms every single time. He just loves having car sex and not just car sex, it has to be near a park.

Motivation:

You’re literally so damn fine he gets horny by the mere thought of you sucking him off. If you’re with him you could literally be using short shorts and his oversized shirt and he already has your shorts and panties by your ankles.

No:

Does not do threesomes and pegging. He’s very possessive of you. Not too much but enough to where you know this man does not share at all. If you’re screaming it’s because he’s fucking you so good not because another man is doing so. Your his and his only.

Oral:

Fucking LOVES oral. He loves how cute you look as your eyes stare directly into his as you have your pretty lips wrapped around his oozing tip. Makes him want to fuck your mouth all day. He also loves how squirmy you get when he starts eating you out so good. He knows how to use his mouth and any time you try to push his head away from your sore cunt he pins your hands down and only goes wilder on your pussy. Adding another orgasm for being a bad girl.

Pace:

Mf is fast and rough. He loves how fast he’s fucking you to the point the slapping sounds start to increase in volume. Not only that, your moans also get louder. Small bruising starts forming from how hard he’s gripping your waist.

Quickies:

He likes quickies if he’s really horny but most times he likes taking his time with you. He loves to overstimulate you so he definitely is going to take his sweet time taking good care of you.

Risk:

Oh my god this boy is all for it. The risk of getting caught is his adrenaline to continue pounding you harder and harder. The idea of getting caught makes him feel alive and he honestly wouldn’t care if he got caught. The most riskiest thing you guys have done is fucked on a hill, anybody could’ve found you guys but he couldn’t care at all. Poor you, he had you go on for 5 rounds and fingered you. By the time you two were done and got dressed you guys started going down the hill when a family was barely making it up. You were relieved they didn’t arrive sooner but Jeno was low key bummed you guys didn’t get caught. Quickly getting over it once he saw the family had a younger kid with them. Definitely glad they weren’t caught, the kid was too young to be asking questions.

Stamina:

This boy can last for a WHILE. If you two have a place to be and can only do at least two rounds he still has a lot more he needs to release. He might seem completely fine from the outside but once you guys are home there he goes pounding you from behind, tight grip on your hips as he plunged into you until you were begging for him no more.

Toys:

He’s all for toys. He only uses devices to edge you on but once your close to climaxing, he turns it off and replaces it by using himself to fuck you your climax.

Unfair:

He loves teasing so damn much. He loves how desperate you get every time he denies you release. But as soon as you do it to him you better pray he goes easy on you because if not, you two will go all night.

Volume:

He’s a groaner. He loves hearing you scream his name as your 4th orgasm has you close to tears. Anytime he feels overly pleased he’ll bite your neck and suck hickies on them. Gripping your hair when he’s coming. Continuously groaning, filling you up to the brim.

Wildcard: Once he really needed to have you bent over a table to fuck your because of much of a brat you were being. Since the boys were with you at a restaurant, he instead fingered you throughout the entire dinner. Somehow the boys never realized Jeno wasn’t using an arm, well al except Jisung. And when you begged Jeno to retracted his arm, he took you to the bathroom and fucked you in there. Yeah the boys never let that go.

X-ray: I see him to be at least 7 inches, nice girth but isn’t that thick but enough to completely fuck you dumb.

Yearning: HE’S ALWAYS HORNY! Idk how he does it to keep himself cool in front of others but if you’re in arms reach you’re in for a wild ride because he will not get off you until every last drop of energy of him is completely sucked out of him.

Zzz:

He doesn’t sleep right away unless he went literally crazy on you. If it was one of those times where you do kinda had to cut down the rounds he wouldn’t be tired but rather wide awake and ready to go on with the day. But if he has your legs wrapped around him as he fucks you orgasm after orgasm then he most likely will fall on the bed besides you, knock out in seconds.

#nct dream imagines #nct dream #nct jeno #nct jeno imagines #jeno imagines #lee jeno #jeno smut #nct scenarios #nct imagines #jeno scenarios #nct reactions

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90stvshowgoth · 3 years

Text

—THE BET

summary: you thought that as a member of the phantom troupe you were supposed to be smarter than this, yet here you were betting against hisoka. everyone knew that hisoka was a master at poker, cards were his weapon after all, but you couldn’t resist wagering one more bet on a drinking game.

w/c: 4587

tags: dubcon, drunk sex, creampie, blood kink, hate sex, begging, brat taming

a/n: this originally started as a chrollo oneshot, you can kinda tell from how the opening paragraph is about him, but once i started writing the poker game i was like “okay no i gotta make this its own thing,” and because of that decision we now have loose ends getting ch.3 rn :) also no, i couldn’t help but kinda reference phantom of the opera cause it slaps and nobody can tell me otherwise. also, no, before anyone asks, this is a oneshot. it aint getting a sequel.

big thanks to the lovely miss @sealedrosewater for beta reading this clownfucking nightmare.

The heist had gone off without a hitch, Chrollo’s plan worked like a charm and before the night was out you had all flawlessly extracted each and every one of the gilded texts being held in the museum. You still remembered the childlike gleam in your boss’ eyes as he ran his fingers over the aged leather, its binding parchment laced with gold. The faintest ghost of a smile fled from his pallid lips as he admired his new conquest. It made your chest swell with pride, happy to help the man you respected so much. Besides, your cut was nothing to sneeze at.

Your rendezvous was inside a long-abandoned opera theatre where dust clung to the red velvet of the seats and the chandelier was seemingly hanging by a thread; your boss always had a flair for the dramatics. Once all members of the spider had finished reconvening at the empty theatre to gather their spoils it wasn’t long before someone, probably Uvogin, brought out the drinks. Nobunaga had already begun nursing a rum and coke, all while Feitan kept turning down Shal’s insistence to “Just try some, Fei,” Even Shizuku cracked open one of the ice-cold bottles, knocking back an impressive swig. As soon as you saw Machi pulling out a deck of cards you knew you had to stay for the after party.

Unfortunately, the same couldn’t be said of your leader. He’d gone to his room with the book you recovered tucked under his arm. A few other members who couldn’t be bothered took after your leader and went off to whichever side room they’d stashed a futon in the week prior; the Phantom Troupe’s equivalent of picking out a bedroom. A shame, really. You’d seen Feitan drunk once before and it was truly a sight to behold.

You sat crosslegged on the wooden floor, watching your comrades slowly get comfortable for a night of fun. Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat above you, looking up to see Pakunoda with a soft smile on her face and an opened beer in her outstretched hand.

“Paku, have I ever told you how much I love you?” You couldn’t help but shower the woman with praise. She had been the one who recommended you to Chrollo after all, and she served as your mentor for your first few months until you found your feet.

She scoffed at the compliment, “Far too much,”

Sticking your tongue out playfully at the mindreader, you took a deep sip of beer, enjoying the familiar taste. Paku sat down beside you and it wasn’t long before the two of you were drinking shoulder to shoulder.

“Machi! Deal us in,” You raised your drink to the transmuter and she flicked two cards towards you both.

Scooting away from Paku, you quickly scanned the cards you’d received before pressing them face down. A queen and an ace. Not great, but not awful either.

The others had formed a haphazard circle, each glancing at their cards with an unreadable poker face. Well, all except Hisoka, who seemed pleased as punch with whatever hand he’d been dealt. Silently, Nobunaga took out two coins and threw them into the center— the Troupe’s house rules counting it to be equivalent to 2 billion jenny.

“Call,” you answered, matching the swordsman’s bet with an unreadable expression on your face.

“Oh? Well then, I’ll raise you,” Hisoka purred, pushing five extra chips into the pot without breaking his gaze from yours.

‘What was he planning?’ That smug look of his just made you want to win that much more. The same seemed to be true of everyone else, each calling the clown’s bet in a row. After all, to a member of the Phantom Troupe, five billion jenny wasn’t that much of a loss.

When Machi turned up the first three cards your heart skipped a beat. Two queens and a seven. Winning a round of poker against some of the smartest criminals the world had ever known was an uphill battle, seeing as how you’d been a member for years without winning a single game.

‘Three of a kind already... what should I do?’ Your face was as stone-cold as before, even with the excitement bubbling in your gut. As nonchalantly as you could, you raised another two billion. At that, Uvo and Shizuku both folded, the enhancer grumbling with a disappointed frown.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I haven’t got enough coins~” Hisoka slapped down a twenty, and a chorus of annoyed groans broke out like a choir, the abandoned theatre’s acoustics amusingly echoed the loud noises of displeasure.

After that little stunt only three others remained: Pakunoda, who’s facade hadn’t cracked all game, Nobunaga, who was glaring daggers at Hisoka, and the aforementioned magician holding up his cards in front of him like a child playing for the first time.

All three of you matched his bet, but none were happy about it. As Machi flipped over the fourth card you found yourself holding your breath. Not because you particularly cared about the money at stake, but because you felt closer to a victory than you had in months. The caricature of a medieval jester being illuminated under the light made you dig your nails into the palm of your hand.

Joker. That meant you had four queens.

It never felt harder to fight a smile off your face than in that moment. Without betraying your excitement, you called, and to your surprise so did Hisoka. Was he bluffing? Or did he have something else in mind? Nobunaga took a deep breath, knocking back the rest of his drink before calling alongside Pakunoda.

All eyes were on the card beneath Machi’s fingertips, the seconds it took to turn the paper on its head filled the theatre with a suspense liable to bring its fragile walls to the ground.

An eight of hearts. Oh well, no big deal.

Nobunaga muttered a curse under his breath, revealing a simple jack and ten of the same suit. Pakunoda was unreadable when she showed the pair of kings she held in her hands. She must’ve thought that the three of a kind would’ve won her the game. The smile on your face felt sweeter after holding it in the whole round, and Nobunaga rolled his eyes when he saw your hand, pushing the pot towards you.

“Well, look at that~” Your victory was interrupted by Hisoka’s insufferable tone, the cards he held up making your jaw drop.

A nine and a jack of hearts. A straight flush.

“That’s bullshit!” You cried, enraged over the loss. It wasn’t even that you cared so much about losing, It only mattered because you lost to him. In an instant you had summoned your nen into the palms of your hands, ready to lunge at the clown when Pakunoda grasped your shoulders, holding you back. Sometimes you forgot how much brute strength was hidden under that pantsuit.

“Just flip a coin, don’t give him what he wants.” Your first reaction was to ignore her, squirming against her iron grip to try and get to Hisoka, who was dramatically scooping all your winnings into his arms.

Uvogin tossed yet another empty beer can over his head, “C’mon Paku, I say let ‘em fight,”

“I concur~” The magician chirped, dramatically stacking each and every coin he’d won while boring his yellow eyes right into yours. His tongue parted his lips, a manic excitement hiding behind the coy expression.

Although every muscle in your body screamed at you to rip into him, you knew you wouldn’t win. He knew your abilities and you couldn’t say for certain you knew all of his.

“Never-mind,” You spat the words out at him like they tasted sour, “You’d probably get off on it anyways.”

A few laughs from the peanut gallery followed your words and Hisoka shrugged, the intense bloodlust from a few seconds ago vanishing as if he’d changed his mind about fighting you on a whim. “You may be right, darling,” your face scrunched up at the nickname you knew he only used to get on your nerves, which it did. “but what if we played a different game?”

Despite how badly you just wanted to ignore him and laugh the night away with all but one of your comrades, you couldn’t turn down the idea of a rematch. Your pride wasn’t nothing to you. “What kind of game?” You asked hesitantly.

He hummed, standing up from the towers of coin he’d made, sauntering over to the cooler of drinks Franklin had provided. After digging around the cold box he pulled out a bottle of fruity tequila and two empty shot glasses.

Your eyes narrowed at the “innocent” smile on his face, looking over to Pakunoda for reassurance.

“You’ll kill him if he spikes my drink, right?” You asked your mentor, who nodded resolutely.

Paku was staring at Hisoka like she was already thinking of ten different ways how to kill him. After sizing him up she flashed you a reassuring nod, “Without question.”

Resolute in your decision, you marched forward, snatching one of the shot glasses from his hand. The stage lights shone above him, making his eyes gleam like the plastic gloss of a doll.

“Shall we begin, then?”

You raised an eyebrow, “What are the rules first?”

He waved his hand in the air, brushing it off, “Nothing too complex, I assure you. The first one who taps out will lose. The loser will do something for the winner. That’s all.”

You still weren’t convinced it could be that simple. “What’s the catch?”

That smirk from before returned to his painted face and he suddenly leaned forward, feeling far too close for comfort. Still, you didn’t step away, your face expressionless as he whispered into your ear. If you did you felt like he’d somehow win whatever stand-still the two of you had on.

“If I lose, I’ll leave the Phantom Troupe,” You reeled away, stunned at his declaration.

Being accepted into the Troupe was the best moment of your life, it always would be. When you looked into the mirror at the tattoo that curled under your ribcage you felt such a warm swell of pride. You couldn’t imagine throwing it all away over some drinking game.

“And...” You blinked rapidly, trying to collect yourself, “If I lose?”

The laugh that echoed from his chest was far from reassuring.

The evening slowly ran into the early morning, each of the other Troupe members wandering off eventually in varying stages of drunkenness. Even Pakunoda headed off to bed after confirming that Hisoka hadn’t spiked your drinks with anything other than a strawberry vodka base. It was unnerving at first, to be completely alone with Omokage’s replacement. Luckily his tastes ran strong, and your vision was spinning before your knew it.

“Match.” Another shot went down your throats, the taste disgustingly sweet, and you watched as his Adam’s apple tensed from the burn.

You’d long since stopped counting how many drinks you’d had, losing track once you got to the double digits. You were both using nen to reinforce yourselves, obviously, but it wasn’t infallible.

‘How is he so good at this?’ You wondered, because as the bottle ran low you started to question just what had made you so confident as to enter a bet with Hisoka in the first place.

“My dear, why not rest for a minute? At least try to enjoy each others company?” His legs were crossed, resting his hand on his palm as he not-so-subtly checked you out. It wasn’t uncommon, and certainly not unexpected from someone like him, but what you hated wasn’t just the nerve of him, but how it made you feel. His scrutiny sent chills down your spine, the unnerving edge to his tone only making you shift your thighs together to relieve some of the pressure.

“You’re the worst, Hisoka,” you knocked back two consecutive shots, unable to hide the wince it caused on your face. Good, you wanted it to sting. Anything to take your mind off the magician in front of you.

He pouted as he poured another row of drinks, “Aw, now why’s that?”

You answered his question with another, pointing towards the half-empty bottle of liquor, “Whats in this, really?”

The magician rolled his eyes, “I did pick an unopened bottle for a reason, dear, I do so want you to trust me.”

Without much fanfare he threw back four shots, over your stunned reaction.

“Just give up already, Darling~ I promise to make it worth your while,” You were reaching your limit for sure, but you were far to stubborn to give up without a fight.

“Fuck you,” you took the first of your next four shots slowly, not managing his fast pace.

He grinned a cheshire smile, “Oh, say that again, will you?”

If he were to call you out on the blush slowly spreading across your nose you’d just blame the alcohol, but the truth was that his words just egged you on even more to the point where you were almost—barely even considering...

“What do you mean, make it worth my while?”

He leaned forward like a cat, agile and silent, whispering his words against your temple, “I’ll tell you how I won that hand,” He got you, hook, line, and sinker.

“You’ll tell me how you cheated?”

Hisoka nodded, a clawed hand coming to stroke a stray piece of hair behind your ear, the action far too intimate for someone like him.

There was no way you’d win against him in this match, that much was clear from the very sober way Hisoka held himself against you, inhumanly still, so what did you have to lose?

‘Your dignity,’ A part of you answered back, but it wasn’t all that convincing. You’d left your dignity behind four shots ago.

“If I lose...”

“If you lose,” He mouthed the words into your cheek, his eyes closed in thought, “You do know what I’ve decided my prize shall be, right?” Of course you knew what he wanted. You weren’t stupid, and the way he nuzzled himself into your neck was far from subtle.

Were you actually so desperate to learn how you lost that you’d sleep with him?

No, you weren’t. But the ache between your legs was getting harder to ignore, and the idea that you could write off what you were about to do behind the excuse of gathering intel sounded like a win-win.

You dug your hands into his hair, not trying to be anything but rough, basking in the moan that spilled from his lips, breath hot against your neck before you yanked him back to meet your gaze.

“Fine. You win, Hisoka,” He smirked, and although he was on his knees he still towered over you, “so how did you cheat?”

Before you could blink his hand had wrapped around your throat, the magician slamming your head into the wood of the stage. You’d had plenty of time to block the damage with your hatsu but the action left your brain rattling inside your skull.

“I’ll tell you later,” He promised, the disorienting blur was slow to fade from the alcohol, and distantly you could feel his other hand stroke your face, his nails like filed daggers trailing over your cheekbones.

“What to do with my prize, then, hm?” He mused, tilting your head from left to right as if examining a block of wood he was about to carve. You coughed on impulse when he let go of your neck, guiding it up instead and taking both your small hands into his palm with an iron grip.

With a flick of his wrist he drew a card, the eight of hearts, seemingly out of nowhere, his nen sharpening it into a thin blade, “Don’t move,”

“Wait... Hisoka, don’t—!” You were far too late to stop him, the frigid air of the ghostly theatre rushing to meet the bare skin of your chest.

Your shirt fell to ribbons along with your bra and you thrashed desperately in his grasp, angry over the loss of your favorite top. He paid your escape attempt no mind, enraptured with the way your tits rose and fell with the timing of your breath and the way you tried to wriggle yourself free.

Still holding your hands to the floor above you, his head bent to wrap a skilled tongue around your tits, a soft sigh involuntarily falling away from you.

“I fuckin’ ha-ate you, Hisoka—ah,” His teeth bit down on your peak at the comment, peering up at you from under his fiery hair.

“Oh? Then why is it you’re moaning like a little whore?” He shifted his weight above you and you saw an opportunity.

You kicked with all your strength between his legs, pulling your knee back and shoving him off with a dig of your shoe into his stomach, “I’m not, don’t call me that shit!”

He actually loosened his grip on you clearly not intending for you to get free from his grasp, a choked sound of what you thought was pain devolving to something much more heated as he stared into you.

“You... are well worth the wait, my dear,” His bloodlust seeped out from every pore, grounding you to the spot. You could usually hold your own against someone like him but it wasn’t hard to see the disadvantage you were at.

Within a fraction of a second he was on you, twisting your waist in his clawed grasp until your ass was hiked into the air, a sharpened playing card slicing through the denim until he could rip it from your legs, yelp echoing like music in the long-silent theatre.

“I knew you’d have some fight left in you,” He crawled forward and you started to realize why he wore exclusively baggy pants, his length hot against you through the fabric as his hips caged you in. As he began to remove that street-performer getup he always wore he’d occasionally curl his hand around your waist to mercifully tug on your ignored clit, your groans muffled and cursed, “I love it. That resilience? It just turns me on.”

You could feel your confidence fade as he tugged those sweatpants down, the weight of him grinding into your ass made all your bravado vanish.

“It will make it so much more satisfying...” He pointed his finger upwards, and suddenly your hands became magnetized to each other, no amount of struggle even budging the rubbery nen substance. “...when I break you.”

Without warning he slid himself inside you, hands holding your hips still as he forced your back into an arch. You couldn’t move even if you wanted to, the flailing of your bound arms useless as he shallowly began pumping his cock deeper inside you.

Your muffled curses whispered into the floor made him laugh, pulling his hand back and cruelly slapping the vulnerable flesh of your ass without a warning.

“Wh.. Why?”

“Because, darling, I want to hear you beg for me.” He pouted, teasing your clenched walls with only the tip of his slick head.

Despite the desire coursing through your veins you still had your pride in tact, “Never gonna happen, asshole.”

Gripping your hips, he dug himself into your dripping cunt as far as he could, both of you unrestrained with a moan at the feeling of his cock brushing near your cervix, your hips traitorously snapping back to meet his eager thrusts, movement near impossible as Hisoka forced you into the ground.

You cried out softly with each quick pull and stretch, only able to say his name one syllable at a time,

“Hi-so—kah...” It was hard to turn your head to the side from his brutal pace but somehow you manage, craning yourself in order to see him; His head was thrown back with a sheer bliss softening his glistening skin, his eyes closed and lips parted. The sight made your keening grow louder, the simple image of him losing himself in your twitching pussy sending a wave of slick dripping around his length.

He must’ve felt your gaze on him because soon enough his was staring at you, his pupils blown wide with desire in a way that made them look like a sun eclipsed, black outlined with a ring of fiery gold.

All at once his hips froze, digging his cock so far as to leave an indent in your pelvis. For a confused second you thought he’d finished, but his gaze was cruel and focused, his lips in a smirk, and you felt no more full than you had a moment ago. He was doing this on purpose.

“Wait, no-nono, wh..y?” You hiccuped, taking his break as a moment to wipe unshed tears from your glossy eyes.

He sighed, “I don’t like repeating myself, darling,” He accentuated the infuriating nickname with a slap to your thigh, face unchanged as he trailed his sharpened fingertips along the reddening skin.

“His..oh.. fuck, Hisoka—“ The banished tears returned, falling silently down your pink face as you whispered, “please,”

“Hmm? Sorry, I couldn’t hear you, my dear, mind saying that again?

Your voice hiccuped as you spoke, “Please, alright? Please,” You thought it’d be enough, that he might finally go back to toying with your clit while he fucked you into the old floorboards, but you’d underestimated the magician’s self-control.

Innocently, he tilted his head, “Please what, dear? Please hit you again?” Hisoka didn’t blink as he slowly brought up his palm, giving you plenty of time to try and wiggle free from your punishment just to show off how futile escape really was, lashing his hand down on the same patch of skin as before, grinning at the shriek he yanked from your lungs.

“No! No, fu-uck.. just—“ You whimpered, brain seemingly disconnected from your mouth as you struggled to form the words, “just fuck me, Hisoka, please.”

“Look at you, huh? You were a slut after all,” He purred, letting the weight of your words hang lifeless in the air along with your stubborn pride. Before you could argue again his hand had returned to your clit, pace unforgiving as he pulled your nerves ever closer to snapping only to halt the second he grew bored, “Say it,”

Mindlessly, you nodded your head, “I’m yours, I’m your slut, Hisoka,” you intentionally clenched yourself around him, mumbling lucid pleas for more as his hard cock twitched, pre cum dripping from your heat onto the floor as your conscience trying to deny what your body so willingly accepted, “want you to fuck me, Hisoka, fu-ck,” you whined, the still presence inside your sensitive walls drove you insane.

With each word a truly unhinged aura began to surround him, and by extension, you, the intoxicating menace dripping over you like a drug as you faced forward once again, wiggling your ass as best you could in his grip.

That was his breaking point, ripping you away from his cock only to drive himself back in, digging the full blade of his nails into your hips, blood pooling around the crescent cuts.

“Fuck, ah.. Darling, ‘doing so good, so good’fr me-ah,” He slurred his words together, more drunk on you than the vodka as he leaned back, forcing you to meet him as his thrusts became so quick that it was getting hard to breathe, your ribcage creaking with discomfort as you were nailed into the stage.

“M..o-re, more...” You begged, and he was happy to oblige. the smearing crimson of blood running hot down your thighs, the pain only making you more pliant in his sculptor’s hands as he folded your body however he liked, ignoring your pained weep from the stretch as he slung one of your bleeding legs over his shoulder.

It was almost weird to hear him say your actual name, so often he used a pet name to mock or flirt with you, sometimes both, “So good for me like this, taking me so goo-uh,” He choked on his words as your cunt tightened around him, your hands clinging for balance in his hair, and Hisoka clearly didn’t mind if the slew of moans from his lips was any indication.

The angle his hips cut into had the edges of your vision turning into a vignette, “I’m close, so close, gonna cum inside you, yeah? Right here,” The hand that had been toying with your clit changed angles, his fingertips spinning spirals onto your aching bud while the flat of his hand pushed against your stomach, your shout swallowed by his pretty lips, tongue toying with yours.

“Ye-es cum inn-side me,” You were too far gone to care, anything he said sounded good as long as he said it in that sultry purr, arms numb as they lay suspended above your head.

“Take it, take it, Darling,” With what little strength you had left you curved your calf beside his neck, pulling him in until his cock brushed your cervix, the pain indistinguishable from the pleasure, “Uhn, cumm-fuck, i’m cumming—“

His cum was thick, the curve of his cock jutting inside you as he filled you up, mercifully swallowing your hallowed scream as he kissed you deeply, almost all feeling in your raised leg lost until he lowered it to his waist, involuntarily snapping his hips up although they had nowhere left to go until your moan turned into a broken sob of lingering bliss.

“Shh, dear, I’ve got you,” With a whirl of his wrist your arms were free of his bungee gum, shakily pulling them to your sides again as he pressed open-mouthed kisses along your neck, whispering a slurred mess of sweet words, stopping to suck a particularly deep hickey into the vein of your flesh.

“Hisoka, quit it!” Your fight had returned along with feeling to your fingertips as you wrenched him back by the hair, his cock jumping.a bit inside you at the grip, “I’ll have to wear sweaters for weeks now, you jerk.”

The capillaries had already begun to burst as he laughed, reaching up behind your head to pull his discarded top forward, digging out what looked like a piece of smooth cleaning cloth from its pocket and lying it over your neck with a simple point of his finger, gyo revealing the pink gum of his aura that controlled it before he smoothed the fabric over your skin, the texture so light you could barely feel it.

“A deal’s a deal, love, I’ll tell you how I cheated,” He smiled as satisfied and smug as he could ever be, a tingling sensation overtaking the patch of covered skin.

As he pulled your hand away you ran your fingers over the cloth, not finding a seam among the normal tone of your chest. Eyes wide as you looked at him for answers he was already happy to provide, “It’s called texture surprise. I can apply it to any flat surface and change its appearance. It’s quite handy,”

“It works on skin, paper, even playing cards,” You felt like an idiot. During the match you kept analyzing him for a sleight of hand trick all while he was using a second nen technique to win. It was so simple but genius, and you felt a little bit better knowing you weren’t outwitted by something obvious.

“You’re the worst, Hisoka,”

He chuckled, kissing along the new unblemished canvas of your neck, “I know~”

#hisoka x reader #hisoka x reader smut #hisoka morrow #hisoka morrow x reader #hisoka morrow x reader smut #phantom troupe #hxh fanfic #hxh #hunter x hunter

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ohheyitsokay · 3 years

Text

slowly

Pairing: Jack Daniels (Agent Whiskey) x (f) ace!reader

Wordcount: 2.2k

Warnings: discussions of sex and related topics, maybe some angst? a lot more analogies than actual descriptions

Summary: a drive in theatre, a budding relationship, and a whole lot of mutual support

Notes: okay obviously this is a wildly personal topic - I fully understand that asexuality looks different for everyone. For full disclosure, in this story, the reader knows they are somewhere on the asexuality spectrum, but is not aromantic. They are also are on a path of self discovery and are open to learning about themselves. This IS NOT saying asexuals who are like this are growing "better" than those who are not interested. Asexuals who do know what they do and dont want are perfect and do not need to change or compromise as part of their personal growth.

There will be an optional part 2 where they have more conversations about intimacy and explore together what works for them, but again, this is not everyone's story, or the "right" way, it's just... one story.

That being said, I genuinely hope yall enjoy!

You stared at the bashful man in front of you openly, your hands stilling on the groceries you were halfway done unloading.

Even the slightest rustle of the cloth bags was painfully loud in the silence that stretched between you.

Jack had burst through your door, confident as always, but it was a thin layer over his anxious heart. With two long strides, he was pulling you into his arms, almost crushing you against his chest.

Arms winding around his middle, you held him just as tightly before you found your voice again.

“You’re back,” you said, simply amazed that he was a whole week early from the long mission. “When did you get back?”

You hadn’t realized he had picked you up until your feet were on solid ground again, and he was pulling away.

“Just a few hours ago, I had to make it back in time for opening night, right?” he grinned winningly.

You tried not to overthink, feeling a jolt of excitement that he remembered – tonight. The drive-in theatre in town was opening for the season and you had been more than excited. As one of your most consistent movie night friends, Jack had promised to take you, full of butterflies and subtext.

For as close as you’d gotten over the past few months, you weren’t sure what to make of his expression.

“If that’s okay? I should’ve double checked,” you hadn’t responded and it was apparently making him nervous.

“Yeah, Jack, that sounds great,” you reassured him, turning back to your groceries, equally nervous.

If you were being honest, you hadn’t expected him to remember because it had almost felt like an off-hand comment at the time, and you hadn’t wanted to get your hope up to much.

Something was welling in your stomach as you turned away from him fully, putting each item in its respective home in your kitchen. You liked him, of course you liked him. He was bold and kind and passionate, and more handsome than seemed reasonable for a single person. And… and when he was nearby, there was a feeling of safety, just out of reach, like water lapping at your feet at the beach.

It was more than tempting but, same as the ocean, there was also an uneasiness in the unknown. The same uneasiness was present in every relationship you’d ever had – because you had a secret.

Well, it was less of a secret and more… something you were figuring out that you hadn’t talked about much. Despite long late night talks and months of growing close and even slowly falling for each other, you hadn’t quite found the courage to talk to Jack about it yet. The more real the soft, sweet moments between you got, the more the unease filled your bones. You knew how he was with other women, and each time his hand lingered on your hip, your shoulder, your cheek, a quiet voice whispered that he deserved better.

Jack was staring at you, lost in your thoughts as you mechanically worked your way through the bags. His heart ached for you, and he wished more than anything that you trusted him with whatever you were holding back. But he was a determined man – he would do whatever he could to show you that no matter what, he wasn’t going anywhere.

After awhile, Jack coaxed you back to your normal self, telling you as much of his mission as he could and helping you cook dinner. Moving around your kitchen was wonderfully peaceful, a little bubble of intimacy. Food was great for neutralizing anxious thoughts.

The feeling continued into his truck as you excitedly packed blankets and he fought the urge to kiss your adorable face when you found the snacks he’d picked up. Even before he left, in anticipation for tonight, he cleaned the front seat thoroughly, and made sure his radio was in good condition.

The movie went well too, but as much as he wanted to pull you into his arms, press you into his side, be the warmth against the cool night air, there was a hesitation that held him at bay.

Every time he’d reach for you, cautious and gentle, your skin would twitch, almost jumping away before you’d smile at him and lean into it. You seemed happy, but part of your mind was holding you back. As friends, you two were relatively physically affectionate, so he made a mental note to tread light and watch for more cues. Jack never wanted to impose himself on anyone but with you, even less.

So he waited. He had no doubt you’d talk to him when you were ready, and heavens knows that he had plenty of things he had kept buried. It was still nice, hearing you laugh next to him - just him – and seeing the light reflecting off the movie dance across your skin. Talking with you was always easy, even more so without friends or family around and it made Jack ache with eagerness.

As he pulled up to your home, he gently took your hand.

“Darlin, it was plum delightful to take you out tonight,” he said, cursing himself internally for how nervous he sounded. You looked his, eyes catching the streetlight like magic and your gentle squeeze gave him courage.

“I really would like to take you out again, on a proper date,” he couldn’t look away from your eyes, trying to read them through the murkiness. “I really like you,” Jack added, quieter, “but you don’t have to respond right now.”

You nodded, your eyes closing tight as though you were at war with yourself.

You think you like me, but I’m not the type of girl you want to date.

“You don’t have to… tell me, if you’re not ready, but,” he offered after a long moment, his free hand flexing on the steering wheel as he forced himself to examine the bushes on the side of the parking lot. “But I’m listening.”

You felt both hot and cold at the same time. All evening you could feel it coming, knew it was going to happen, knew it had to. He deserved this conversation, and honestly, if there was anyone who made you feel like you did, too, it was Jack.

Inhale, exhale.

Inhale -

“Okay,” - exhale.

Remembering that neither of you had work the next day helped. Slowly you let go of your hand and unbuckled your seatbelt, shifting to get comfortable again, the actions thick with significance. He returned it, unbuckling too, and killing the engine.

Jack was so respectful you could cry, his obvious anxiety under control enough not to jump to conclusions – to wait for you.

“I like you, too, Jack, but I don’t think we can ever date,” you forced the words out and his heart nearly shattered, confusion barely holding it together.

Eyebrows so drawn in they almost looked like a solid line, he waited, unable to stop a small shake of his head.

Why not? His entire being screamed. With each second that passed, more and more determination seeped into the cracks of his heart, sticking it together. If you liked him as he liked you, it seemed impossible there was anything between you that couldn’t be overcome.

You saw the question in his eyes and the explanation tumbled out.

“It’s just, I know you – I know the girls you go after and the type of relationships most men want. And,” you were sucking in air, the vulnerability raking through your lungs. “And I don’t know if I can ever give you that.”

He started to protest before his hand covered his mouth, irritated movements over his mustache, his jaw working. What he wanted was you. But he needed to let you keep talking. If he interrupted you now, he might never understand what you meant.

You watched his movements, desperation to give him the explanation he deserved growing in you.

“I’ve had people break up with me because I wont sleep with them,” you shoved the words into the space, the most honest you’d maybe ever been.

Whatever he had been expecting, it wasn’t that. Your voice was trembling and so quiet only your moving lips confirmed the words as you continued.

“For me, it’s not something I need, or am particularly comfortable with. You,” you swallowed hard, unable to look at the man beside you. “You deserve someone you can be with, however you want.”

You took another deep breath, feeling light and surprisingly at peace with your honesty. Even the impending rejection felt less scary, now that you had said it all out loud. The trembles settled as you concluded, “I’m still figuring myself out and I just cant guarantee I’ll ever give you what you deserve.”

Of all the conversations with all the others before this, this moment felt the most freeing. It was wild to have such an intimate conversation before you even kissed, but… the foundation of trust that Jack had given you had not been lost on you. You found yourself smiling, looking at him, finally.

His expression had loosened, processing and connecting the dots, his deep eyes unfocused before they slid closed.

Now it was your turn to wait, to be patient, and listen.

Part of him wanted to yell that he wasn’t like the others, that he didn’t care and even that he would wait and work until you were ready. But that wasn’t right, and he knew it.

Inside him, deep, deep down, there was a small light. A candle of flame underneath a glacier: a touch of hope slowly warming its way through layers and layers and centuries of expectations, fear, confusion, and chaos. It was going strong, it just need more time.

“Darlin,” he looked at you, finally, meeting your eyes and feeling for the first time that they were a clear window into your soul. “You are… everything, to me. So… so let’s just take some time to process this. Would that be okay, sweetheart?”

That was the first time anyone had ever responded that way. It was the scariest thing, but it was perfect. You were overwhelmed with the rawness and a glance at the radio told you it was 2 am. Not a time to be making life altering decisions, anyway. Nodding, you pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek. The movement was intimate and confident – something that shouldn’t have been possible, but it was.

Jack’s large hand grasped at your neck and jaw, pulling you into him, pressing his forehead on yours. The hairs of his mustache just ticked your lip, but he made no move, respecting one final boundary for the night.

With a squeeze, he let you go, watching with longing eyes as you hopped out of his truck and ran to your front door. The smile you gave him before you slipped inside was the seal, engraving tonight into his memories forever.

And he drove home, his thoughts louder than the wind and the crickets and his pounding heart.

Jack invited you over a few days later, a Sunday afternoon. It would be the first time you’d talked, and you were surprisingly calm. For some reason, you felt like you’d be closer to him no matter what happened.

He heard your car on the long gravel driveway and greeted you with an all-encompassing hug. You held each other, like lifelines, for long moments before he pulled you inside.

“My mama sent cookies,” he said, motioning for you to sit at the tall table he had as he set down the plate. You couldn’t help but smile, knowing their Sunday lunches and her beloved baking well. He remained standing across from you, aware of the awkwardness, but eager to get his words right.

“This is all new to me,” he said, wishing suddenly that he’d made tea so his throat wouldn’t feel so dry. “If you really don’t wanna be with me, that’s your choice,” he said, knowing it was right and hating the option, “but I really – you’re just so – I can’t let you go,” his thoughts were jumbling together on his tongue.

It was grounding, when your hands found his, reaching across the table as you sat forward on your stool.

“What if we just took it slow?” you said, and his heart stopped.

“Please,” he managed, and your own chest felt like it would burst. “Would it be alright, darlin?” Jack’s hands held yours, his expression eager.

“Could – could we figure out what works for us? Figure this all out together?” You were close to crying, you wanted that so bad.

“I can’t promise I’ll change or… or what direction I’ll grow,” you said, needing to say it again, needing to be sure.

“I can’t, either, darlin,” he said, and you realized he was right and you would support each other, no matter what.

“But all I need is you. Whatever and however much you’ll give me. That’s more than enough.”

He didn’t say for now.

And you believed him.

Since he was still standing, it made it easy for you to tug him around the table, and you leaned into his chest. It felt safe, safer than you had ever thought was possible for you.

“Okay,” you told the flannel he was wearing, “Let’s figure it out together.” And even though you couldn’t see him, you knew he was smiling, too.

Taglist:

@fangirl-316 @0celestialbitch0 @scribbledghost

#agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey x you #jack daniels x you #jack daniels x reader #ace!reader #ace reader #maybe i don't know people

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saebyeog-i · 3 years

Text

soft | njm (m)

genre | office romance au / slight humor, smut lol

rating/warnings | stream of consciousness bs / alcohol consumption / semi public sex {oral, m receiving; mentions of breathplay} / slightly unedited whoops

word count | drabble! 2.1k because I don’t know how to shut up

pairing | IT Worker!Jaemin x reader

—

When you start your new job, you realize pretty quickly that Jaemin from IT wears sweaters all the time in the office. Even in the summer. Even when it’s 95 degrees outside, because he gets cold easily and they always blast the AC too much indoors.

He’s a very soft and unassuming character, and he’s the youngest person on his team by at least ten years, and during your first meeting when he’s getting your work station set up in your office he tells you he just likes that he gets paid to play around with computers all day and that’s why he keeps the job.

“Couldn’t you be a software engineer or something? Make far more money and not have to answer dumb computer questions all the time?” You ask offhandedly, and then realize you’ve insinuated that he’s paid poorly. You attempt to back pedal your statement, but he’s not the least bit offended.

He chuckles, eyes crinkling and he shakes his head. “I get paid plenty well for this job, and besides, I never have any tight deadlines or work overtime. I don’t exactly dream of extra and strenuous labor.”

He wears sweaters that are two sizes too big for him, made up of bright obnoxious colors and gaudy patterns that would usually make you fake vomit at seeing them on a real life human. But he makes them look charming, somehow. Grandpa sweaters, you call them, even to his face, with patterns that just make you gag. Never a sweater vest, mind you, only ever a full pull over knit sweater, with the occasional cardigan over a long sleeve turtleneck. Over time, you see a variety of patterns and colors, and you think he must have an endless supply of them.

You’re not bad with computers by any means, but you do like to bat your eyelashes and have other people do things for you when you can. You’re admittedly a little bit lazy, not stupid, and besides, he’s much faster at fixing any issues than you are, why waste time trying to figure it out yourself?

You think it’s cute, the way he smiles with his eyes and chuckles quietly whenever he comes to your office to fulfill a help desk ticket. You like the way he smiles at you and the way he’ll compliment your outfits, how soft and unassuming his words always are, and never cringe worthy like that older man in marketing who thinks he’s being nice but is in fact just being slightly creepy. When you tell your roommate about Jaemin from IT complimenting your new dress in the kitchen as you made your morning coffee, she asks if you have a thing for him because of how often you bring him up in your stories from work.

“Oh, no, definitely not— he’s soft, but a little too soft, you know? Need me a bit of a freak, someone who wouldn’t be opposed to like, I dunno, choking me if I said I was into that,” you sigh, trying to imagine the soft and pixie-like Jaemin from IT with his hands around your neck. It doesn’t compute. “Besides, I think he puts like, eight shots of espresso in his coffee, his cum probably tastes like battery acid,” you sigh into your yogurt as your roommate crinkles her nose one morning before you both depart for work. You move on from the brief idea, and think you’ll stick to just enjoying sweet and innocent Jaemin that wears oversizes sweaters from afar instead.

On anyone else, the fashion sense would be annoying.

But not on Jaemin.

He’s soft and squishy and kind of adorable with the way he scrunches up his nose when he laughs, and the endearing way he explains to the older company employees how to run the Microsoft Office automatic software updates to get the latest version of Excel and PowerPoint. He does his best to teach them how to do it on their own to give them a sense of accomplishment and understanding of the technology they rely on but seem to have no hope at operating beyond the basic level needed for their jobs (but still doing it for them anyways, with patience and a smile and never a complaint).

It’s an attractive quality, you have to admit, and if he wasn’t the walking embodiment of marshmallow fluff you’d think more about him. But he is, so you don’t, and instead sigh out loud as you watch him huff and blow the fluffy bangs out of his eyes as he’s crouched under your desk, re-running the wires for your office phone.

You’ve always had a bad habit of mumbling your thoughts out loud when you’re distracted, and sometimes he’ll catch you cursing out the equipment or your supervisors for not knowing the difference between something you’d deem as basic for your department or field. He finds it charming, thinks it makes you more candid and honest and it’s a different side of you than the one who bats her eyelashes and files help desk tickets when she could easily do something herself. You’re taken aback by this comment, because you didn’t count him for someone that would keep track of something like that, which you admit to him in slight disbelief.

“Oh believe me, I’m more observant than you think I am,” he chimes mysteriously as his fingers glide across your keyboard, entering his admin password to run another round of program installations and software upgrades.

You don’t think much of it when he’s the only person who fulfills your tickets for six months straight.

Not until the holiday party, anyways.

At the holiday party, it’s an open bar and everyone is dressed UP up. You expect to see Jaemin in another grandpa print sweater two sizes too big for him— that is, if the soft boy shows at all. Company holiday parties like this don’t scream ‘Jaemin from IT’ at you, given that from what your more seasoned coworkers have told you about years past, after tonight you can expect at least one person to end up suspended or fired for behavior; that and the Company President gives everyone an Uber code for a free ride home since they already know how absolutely wasted everyone plans on getting.

To your surprise, Jaemin from IT does in fact show up at the holiday party. You spot him as soon as he enters, about an hour into the party itself, and he slips into the crowd and makes his way to the bar. You were expecting a tacky Christmas sweater on him, but instead, he’s dressed in the exact opposite.

Instead, he’s got his hair styled up (a first, and you never realized how badly you wanted to see his forehead before) and instead of a gaudy array of colors and patterns, he’s wearing a nicely tailored suit in a rich wine color with a black button down underneath.

When he waves from across the room and approaches you just to be friendly and say hi, you’re definitely caught off guard enough that you don’t realize you’ve mumbled out “How is that fair? How can he look like THAT outside of a sweater and then not let me just suck his dick right here?”

Jaemin blinks for a moment, taken by surprise, when he realizes it’s that same candid habit of yours and you haven’t realized you’ve said it out loud. His mouth curls into a smile and he presses his tongue against the inside of his cheek and gets nice and close, close enough to flirtatiously whisper “Well if you insist, though I’m sure we could find somewhere a bit more... private.”

And then you’re so caught off guard by confident sexy suit wearing Jaemin you think he’s read your mind for until you realize what you said out loud. But he’s into the idea given the fact that he doesn’t run in fear from your words and fuck it, so are you, and he’s not just cute and squishy anymore he’s fucking hot in that suit and with his dark hair styled just so, so you feel flirty and courageous when you say “You know I think I like the suit over the grandpa sweaters, but I think I’d like the suit even better on the floor.”

After the way his mouth ticks upward in a smile, the movements are all a blur that you can’t quite separate out into discrete events: downing you drink, linking hands with him, scurrying off towards the single occupancy restroom furthest from the dance floor and bolting the lock so you can be sure as shit that when your lips crash against his and then your knees hit the floor there will be no interruptions.

“Funny,” you say, trailing kisses down his throat after a moment, “Never thought I’d see you as anything but soft.” The admittance and double entendre are entirely intentional and you know that he knows.

“Seems like now’s a good as time as any to pay back all those superfluous ticket requests,” he breaths out, and your lips curl into a grin as your fingers find their way to his belt and tug his dress pants down.

“If you insist,” you tease back his words from earlier, sinking to your knees all too happily.

You take him into your mouth easily, relishing in the groans and shaky exhales that comes from his perfect lips as his fingers thread through your hair and his grip tightens. A fire deep in your belly ignites at the noises, enjoying how easily you can make the man you thought so soft and unassuming fall apart at just a run of your tongue and a hollowing of your cheeks.

“Fucking shit don’t do that unless—”

He’s cut off by his own groan as you run your tongue along his slit once before taking him as afar back in your throat as you can manage, then he’s cumming in your mouth with a high pitched shaky whine.

When he’s finished, you make an obscene show of his cum in your mouth for him and curl your tongue back as you swallow, wiping away the excess saliva with the heel of your palm. “Pay back enough?” You ask surreptitiously as you rise back to your feet, dusting off the skirt of your cocktail dress.

Jaemin from IT digs his fingers into your hips and pulls you close to him, a growl deep in the back of his throat before his lips clash against yours, “All that and then some.”

His fingers link with yours after as he hurriedly drags you from the bathroom to the exit of the venue, waving haphazardly at his team members before launching the ride share app and tapping in the provided code for that free ride. “I meant it when I said your wardrobe is both flattering and professional,” he hums, “But out of respect for your sense of style, I’ll refrain from tearing any garment off of you and provide a hangar for it instead. Deal?”

The words are so forward and presumptuous. You can’t help but feel a little turned on by the action, however, and find yourself scoffing as you smile and stick a hand out for him to shake, “Deal.”

So even though you’d maybe been hoping to get a bit more free alcohol out of the company holiday party, you’re celebrating some much better company some thirty, forty minutes later, once you’re out of the car and your bare back is pressed against the locked front door of his apartment as Jaemin from IT fucks into you in a way that is the absolute opposite from soft, just as he’d promised. And when you’d moaned it out and asked, he happily agreed to (delicately, tenderly) lay his hand on your throat and apply pressure.

Your expensive cocktail dress rests on a hanger on the coat rack in his living room, just like he’d promised. You don’t put it back on until the following afternoon. And then again a year later, when you enter the company holiday party arm in arm with Jaemin from IT— Na Jaemin, you’d finally learned and committed to memory his last name after that first night, who was now your boyfriend.

“You know I didn’t take you for an outfit repeater,” he teases, this year arriving on time (at your behest) and wearing an all black suit save for the glittering of the jeweled pinstripes on his jacket.

You roll your eyes and tug him towards you by his neck tie. “Who’s fault is it that not enough people got to appreciate this dress last year, hm?”

He looks up in thought playfully for a moment before answering, “The sweaters?”

You press another kiss to his lips, this one a little less aggressively and a little bit softer (like you liked him, you’d come to find out) and reply, “Yeah, definitely the sweaters.”

—

author’s note | I originally wrote this in my dm’s to Clover half asleep at 6:30 in the morning on a Saturday and she told me she’d sue if I didn’t post it, so, here, lol have the expanded version that I wrote after chugging a glass of Reisling and a shot of Jameson at 10pm last night.

#let's #try this #one more time sigh #get your shit together tumblr #fix your damn tags sigh #jaemin fanfic #jaemin fluff #jaemin smut #nct fanfic #nct fluff #nct smut #-sighs- clover what have you done to me #swamp witch writes

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lawxbread · 4 years

Note

I wasn’t sure where to send the request, but I was wondering is you could do an x reader where the reader was Ace’s girlfriend and after he died and the straw hats were on haitatus she went to train with Laws crew and they fall in love but she’s afraid of getting hurt again by losing someone she loves because important people seem to always die in her life

Hey,hey,hey!(bokuto's voice) Oh my god! I really enjoyed writing this, thanks for sending me this awesome plot!! Lol I tried my best but I think I was too descriptive (I got too excited and this got longer than I planned...) But I hope you like it!

A/N: I rushed at the end because I felt every brain cell of mine dying as i wrote the smut scene lmaooo

Sorrow

Synopsis: You were Ace's girlfriend and since when he died you've been afraid of losing someone again. Your heart is wrapped up. You feel solitary. But... What if the doctor, Captain Of the Heart Pirates, heals your pain by making you realize that you are capable of loving again?

"I can't control myself anymore"

"Make me yours, Law"

Warnings: angst, smut, implied death, unprotected sex, swear-word

Word count: 3K

It's all dark. You feel something touching your skin lightly. That touch... you recognize it, that warm touch you are so used to. Suddenly, your vision comes to be brighter, a few seconds have passed when you feel a breath on your face, then you finally see it, It's the man you loved wildly: Portgas D. Ace. As soon as you see him, he stops touching you, posteriorly Ace looks at you with tears in his eyes and starts running away. You don't understand what the hell is happening so you just try to reach him, "Wait!! Ace!!!" : You try to scream but, for some reason, your voice doesn't come out. When you realize, Ace abruptly fades away and then the surroundings are no longer warm. You start to cry, still trying to scream his name but not a single word comes out of your mouth. A deadly hush. "ACE!!! NO!" you try again, nothing. All your efforts are ineffective. You start blaming yourself, hopeless.

"Y/N- ya!!". You hear someone yells. Attempting to come back to your senses, you slowly open your eyes. You feel your sweat rolling down your face and take a deep breath until you feel steady. Eventually, everything seems regular. You see Trafalgar Law staring at you with an apprehensive look and it doesn't take long for him to ask

" Another nightmare, Y/N- ya?"

"Uh... Apparently yes." You retort, then add "Law... When will this pain go away?"

"It depends on you. Everyone has their traumas, I know it's not easy... But, Y/N, you have to move on." Law replies, using a concerned voice tone.

You start to cry, then you get up from the bed and instantly hug Law. He freezes.

"H-hey...Y/N-ya...uhh. Everything will be alright..." He says embarrassed while patting your back

Law gently moves you away and says "Y-you should grab something to eat, Bepo prepared a breakfast."

"What the hell I just did??!" You think, blushing as you realize the hug you gave Law.

"O-Ok" You declare.

You were Ace's girlfriend. One year has passed since your boyfriend's death. Portgas D. Ace wasn't just some guy you dated, he was, foremost, your best friend and the only person you could count on.

Your parents died when you were just 10 years old and you grew up cleaning houses, selling stuff you found in the junk, and doing any kind of service for other people. All of these just to survive, relying on a very small amount of money. Then, you met Ace, when you both were 18 years old, he helped you by beating some thieves that stole bellies from you, and little by little you fell in love with each other. Two years have passed when you heard that Ace was captured by the Blackbeard Pirates and taken over by the Navy, who would execute him at Marine Ford. You wanted to go save him immediately but when you declared to the WhiteBeard you would save Ace with him, he didn't let you go. Whitebeard ordered some of his sons to stay with you and prevent you from going with the rest of the numerous crew, as Whitebeard knew that Ace wouldn't be happy to see his girlfriend in the middle of a war. You tried to fight back but it was worthless.

You couldn't sleep and eat properly, fretted over Ace's life. Then, you heard the choking news: Ace died in Luffy's arms at Marine ford.

You couldn't believe it, you just couldn't.

You suffered so much, you only wanted to die because you had totally lost the reason for continuing to exist. Until 1 month after Ace's death, a huge yellow submarine appeared in front of you, and Trafalgar Law came out of it saying that Luffy asked him to take you and make you stay with his crew. You didn't have anything to lose so you just accepted the offer. Since then, you've been training with Law while the rest of the straw hats are on hiatus.

It's not that you still can't accept Ace's death, you know presently that this kind of tragedies happens. It's just that... you are afraid that something similar occurs again. You are so attached to the Heart Pirates Crew, they are like a family to you, and Law has been great to you ...so your biggest fear is losing them. This sort of thought results in constant nightmares, leaving you scared when you wake up.

"Good morning, everyone!" You say as you approach the kitchen with Law.

Bepo and Shachi are eating some fried eggs and cake, discussing something about the fish Bepo fished earlier being poisonous.

"Hello, Y/N!! Did you have another frightening nightmare?" Bepo asks.

"Yeah, nothing new..." You retort while taking a piece of bacon.

As you walk towards the dinner table to sit on a seat next to Shachi, you notice Law staring at you non stop, making your heart races. "Uhm, what feeling is this?", you keep thinking about it but don't understand what is going on with you so you just ignore it.

The things between you and Law have been weird in the past 3 months since you joined the crew one year ago. He seems more comprehensive with you than usual, Law used to argue with you every time you did something wrong but now... He's changed, in a certain way.

You seat next to Shachi, in front of Bepo and Law. As soon as you realize, Shachi puts on your plate a piece of the cake he is eating.

" Hey, Y/N-chan, you should try this", Shachi says as he looks at you with a smirk.

"Oh, thanks..." You say in an embarrassed voice tone, trying to be polite.

You look at Law and he is still gazing at you, but now he seems uneasy.

You eat the cake, unintentionally, leaving a crumb on the right corner of your mouth.

"Y/N-ya, there's a crumb right there," Law tells you as he points from his seat at the crumb left on your mouth.

"Here?" You attempt to clean it, but you don't succeed since you can't see it.

Shachi quickly says "Let me clean it for you." He presses his finger against the crumb, taking it off for you. Then he caresses your cheeks "Done, Y/N-chan". He gives you a smirk.

You are uncomfortable, really uncomfortable. "T-thanks..." You stutter.

You look at Law and he looks pissed as hell but you don't understand why, you just suppose he woke up in a bad mood today.

Law gets up from his chair not saying anything, then he utters "Y/N, a word?"

You don't comprehend why he called you and interrupted your meal, but you feel relieved since you don't have to stand Shachi's inconvenience anymore. You obey him, following Law to his office.

Law could wait for you to eat but he was irritated seeing Shachi shamelessly hitting on you, so he called you just to get you out of there, he knew you were uncomfortable. Besides Law was worried about you, he was jealous. Actually, you are a breath-taking girl, really stunning and beautiful so most of the crew's men always hit on you when they get the chance of doing so. It bothers Law a lot but you'd never imagine that.

As soon as you enter the office, you shut the door. You notice that Law isn't looking you in the eye and then he starts seeking some papers that he left in one of the desk drawers. He grabs the papers and says:

"Y/N-ya, I think I don't have to train you anymore, you seem prepared enough to train haki by yourself from now on." Then, still avoiding to look at you, he orders, coldly.

"So, I need some favors, take these papers that have a list of tasks for you to do at the submarine, most of them are related to repair stuff. " Law putts them in your hands.

"What? Why all of this so suddenly?" You ask.

"It's nothing. Just go." Law replies, indifferently.

You left the office questioning yourself if you've done something wrong for Law to act that way. But not a single idea comes to your mind, so you just decide to do what he ordered since he is your captain.

Six days have passed since then, you've been doing repairs and improvements all over the submarine, and when you get the chance, you train haki and fight skills by yourself. Since the day Law acted weird, he's been more absent than before. Plus, he avoids you every time you try to reach him and you don't understand why, but seeing Law ignoring you makes you feel sad for some reason. You start to think that there's a remote chance of ~maybe~ you had catch feelings for Law. But... You don't wanna accept them, thinking about how much you loved Ace and he died abruptly makes you feel hesitant to love someone again. You are already afraid of losing Law, if you fall in love with him, you fear that the pain you'd feel if he dies, would be worse, like how happened between you and Ace.

On your way towards your room, you see Law entering his office so you decide to go talk to him and ask him why he's acting like that.

You knock on the door. "Come on in," Law says.

As soon as Law sees you, he instantly changes his facial expression, he seems more anxious, uneasy.

"Hi, Law. Can I talk to you for a second?" You ask him as you slowly approach his desk.

"Yes. But be brief, I'm busy." He declares with a coldhearted tone of voice, still avoiding your stares.

"So..." You take a deep breath, then let out "Why you've been avoiding me these past days? Have I done something wrong?"

Law quickly replies, "I'm not avoiding you. Are you done?"

"Liar, you can't even look me in the eye!!"

Silence fulfills the room as Law puts his hands on his forehead, letting his head rests on them. You try to understand whatever is going on, a sentiment of heavy tension appears when you look at Law.

Tension. Simply, tension.

Law , still with his head down, finally confesses "Y/N-ya...Yes, I've been avoiding you" He mumbles. "Do you really wanna know the reason?"

"Yes!! I'll try my best to help you with whatever is making you feel low!" You declare.

"I don't think you can help me, but... I can't control myself anymore when I'm by your side.Y/N-ya..." Law admits as he finally stares back at you, and this time, he's looking deeply into your eyes.

You freeze.

"W-what? What do you mean by that?" You certainly think you misunderstood his words.

" I have feelings for you," Law confesses directly, leaving you no more doubts.

You try to keep your composure, but it looks like you are on fire, your whole body is steaming. You don't know what to do so you just stand still, staring at Law with a shocking glance.

"Y/N-ya...You don't have to return my feelings, I won't compel you to do anything about it." Law says, then he gets up from his chair, approaching you, so he adds "Look, it's just that it's hard for me to see you and couldn't be able to announce you're mine. I don't know when it started, maybe 3 months ago so you can just ignore it and I'll move on."

"Law..." you mumble, an immense desire to cry emerges, so when you least expect it, you are covered in tears.

Law looks surely worried about you, he attempts to approach you even more but you are moving away from him.

"Law..." You cover your eyes with your hands as you cry, "I-I think I feel the same but..." You sigh, "I'm afraid... I'm afraid of losing you! I can't go through that again."

You are crying a lot but you stop when Law abruptly hugs you.

"I'm not going anywhere, Y/N-ya." Law whispers.

Important people seem to always die in your life, you lost your parents when you were just 10, and then you lost Ace... This fear that haunts you has total control of your mind, but, somehow, the last few words that Law said to you comforted your troubled soul.

"Y/N-ya, take your time," Law says as he sweetly moves you away, now you both are no longer hugging, but staring deeply at each other. "I'll wait for you to make your decision, please rest...have a good night," Law says then opens the door for you

"Good night, Law..." You leave his office and go straight to your bedroom.

Two months have passed and surprisingly you didn't have any nightmare during its period. You felt so calm when Law hugged you and said he wouldn't go anywhere, since that day you've been wondering if you are capable of giving love a second chance. Besides, Law is still waiting for your decision but you can't just get through your trauma so easily; however, the time you took to think was enough for you to understand that you were worrying too much about an uncertain future. You thought a lot about it and figured it out that you have strong feelings for him, the idea of having him by your side is being more recurrent in your mind than the idea of losing him. You certainly want him, you want him so bad.

Since the day Law confessed to you, he is no longer avoiding you and everything is natural between you two. As he is respecting your time and not bringing the relationship matter back.

You have made your decision. Maybe...It's time for you to move on and tell Law what you want the most: him.

It's 2 am when you decide to go see Law and tell him your decision, you couldn't wait anymore longer. You go straight towards his bedroom to check if Law is still up and notice that the door is half-open so you slowly push it.

"Law...?" You mumble as you enter the bedroom. You don't see him anywhere. A few seconds have passed when suddenly Law appears right behind you.

"Y/N-ya?" Law says, he looks kind of surprised. You turn back to see, then you gradually make steps forwards "I'm sorry I was at the kitch-" You kiss his lips wildly, interrupting Law's words.

Still with his eyes open, Law can't believe what's going on. He stops you from kissing him, "H-hey....Y/N-ya w-what are you doing?" he stutters.

"Oh, I made my decision, Law." You confess "I realized that I want you much more than I fear losing you. It seems confusing but..." You look down, "I don't want to live the rest of my life wondering what my life would have been like with you. I really want to live it." Law smiles.

You add "I don't care about the future anymore, we are in the present and I want you right now!"

"Y/N-ya, I want you so much, and hearing from you that you got over your fear really makes me glad..." Law kisses your forehead.

You look back at him, you both exchanging stares, "I want you, you want me so... please, make me yours, Law"

Law doesn't hesitate a second, he kisses your lips remarkably as he slowly shuts the door. Law puts you against the wall and starts kissing your neck and touching your right breast with his left hand. You let out a groan.

"Y/N-ya, you make me so..." Law whispers while he takes off your shirt then he kisses your neck again, leaving it marks.

"L-law??" you mutter as you are blushing, you just can't believe it, you want him right now.

He presses his body against yours while he also kisses your lips, you feel his hard manhood touching your thigh. Your whole body is on fire, he unhurriedly moves down his right hand until it reaches your cunt, Law dry rubs it using his index finger as you moan. You can't stand it anymore, the heat between your both bodies is driving you insane, plus his warm touches all over your trunk.

"Y/N-ya..." Law takes off his shirt and pants, revealing his ample chest with his tattoos, muscles and his bulky underwear, indicating his cock's hardness. Everything about him turns you on. "Take off your skirt and panties ", Law orders, his eyes: full of desire. You obey him, embarrassingly. Law watches every movement of you taking off your remaining clothes, hardening his cock even more.

Unawares, Law took off his underwear, showing his thick and lengthy dick. Your face turns flushed.

Law holds you by the waist, making you put your legs around his hips, he controls your waist back and forth bringing in your pussy to rub his cock's tip for some seconds. " Y/N-ya... I can't hold it anymore". He stops then lifts you in his arms, leading you to his bed.

He lays you on the bed, lying on all fours on top of you and so he starts to gently caress your face, hair,ear... Unexpectedly, you feel the tip of his manhood lightly touching your entrance, then, Law holds your hands, pushing your arms against the mattress. So he starts penetrating, "Fuck. It's so tight" Law exclaims. The impact sound of skin against skin is gradually increasing, Law is moving faster and faster, you can't help but moan, moan a lot.

"L-Law" you call out his name, "L-Law".

" I love you, Y/N-ya," Law says while he moves into you, you are so close to reaching your climax, and so do him, that in you head only Law and you exist, so your vision starts to blur; you felt like fire was running through your veins instead of blood. "Law, I'm...almost..." you finally achieve your culmination.

"Y/N-ya" Law stutters your name as he releases his cum inside you. Law takes a deep breath then he lays down next to you and you both embrace each other.

Law kisses your forehead, "I'm not going anywhere, Y/N-ya. It's a promise." He whispers.

So you reply to him, "I know." and after a few cuddles you both fall asleep.

#one piece scenario #one piece x reader #law x reader #one piece angst #one piece smut #one piece oneshot #trafalgar law #one piece #one piece imagine

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redhoodieone · 3 years

Text

Hate You More

A new fic that I was inspired to write! There will be a Part 2 since this is going to get VERY smutty. Enjoy!

WARNINGS: Language. Mentions a little smut.

I’m a princess. Well, a “bit” of a princess. But that’s not exactly my fault. I’m an only child. My mom and dad always wanted one kid and once they had me they were happy...until they divorced when I was eight-years-old and my dad left somewhere far away. Ever since then, it was always just me and mom, which was never a bad thing.

We were close and got along just fine. Every weekend was our Nicholas Sparks movie marathons on the couch, eating a shit ton of strawberry ice cream straight from the carton, and painting each other’s nails and having her braid my hair and tell me stories of when I was little.

Everything was perfect with just me and my mom...until she married him.

Bruce Wayne.

I never thought my mom would ever want to remarry but Bruce somehow stole her heart and made her fall in love with him.

I didn’t want to blame her for being so stupid for marrying him. I mean, Bruce did treat my mom right. I just hated him so much for convincing my mom to move us into his mansion.

So far away from my first home.

But I know he really loves her, despite being known as a billionaire playboy, womanizing, man whore. After three years into their marriage, I noticed he really cared about me and treated me like his daughter; certainly overprotective and reminding me if I ever needed anything to always go to him.

He even helped me get into GCU. With his help, I’m now into my second year. He’s really proud that I’m a responsible, twenty-one year old college student, and that makes me feel good.

But it hasn’t always been perfect with Bruce. Not only did I get a stepdad, but I got THREE asshole stepbrothers: Dick, Jason, and Tim. They’re the boys Bruce adopted.

Dick wasn’t exactly an asshole. He’s twenty-five years old and he’s always in and out of the mansion. He’s a party animal and I rarely see him unless he’s home for Sunday dinners and for Alfred to do his laundry.

Tim is tolerable. He’s always kind to me, but he’s also a shy and awkward fourteen-year-old. He’s seriously a nerd and he’s becoming an addict to coffee and always being on his computer. But he doesn’t bother me at all.

Not like Jason Fucking Todd.

He’s twenty-one years old and is a complete lazy ass who mooches on everyone.

I honestly hated him the second I met Jason. The second my mom and I moved into the mansion, I had set down backpack on the kitchen counter so I could remove my sweater and throw away the empty bag of fried fast food I had for lunch. The moment I turned around, Jason had jumped up to sit on the kitchen counter and had the nerve to pick up my backpack and throw it to the floor.

“Oops! Your shit was in my spot.”

I had my fucking cell phone, laptop, and picture frames of my family in there.

And that’s how it all started. Jason made it very clear he hates me and I refuse to back down and be nice to him. I mean, the fucking asshole has zero respect for me anyways. All he does is drink, eat all the food, and bring bar sluts home to fuck loudly in his bedroom which is right NEXT DOOR TO MINE!!!

All night and early in the mornings. All I can hear is Jason’s headboard slamming repeatedly against the wall and his bimbos screaming, “Oh God! Right there, Jay! Oh my God, HARDER!”

Seeing him afterwards is worse though. I could be walking to the bathroom or the kitchen and he’d just happen to come by to use the bathroom too, or get a drink of water...only using a sheet that’s wrapped around his waist!

He’d fucking smirk at me and I would try so hard to not look down at his big bulge and thick hard on.

Jason is my stepbrother...only my stepbrother, I constantly remind myself.

But Jason is also an asshole. He may look sexy and taste delicious but his one unattractive flaw is his behavior.

And I’m not one to sit back and let assholes walk all over me. I do get back at Jason quite a bit; enough to piss him off.

Today is one of the days I decide to have a big appetite. After my shower, I run downstairs only wearing my comfy pajama short shorts and a black tank top. I remember Dick is at his own apartment and Alfred is away in London on “holiday” as he calls it. Entering the kitchen, I see Mom making breakfast for us: pancakes, bacon, and sausage.

Bruce is sitting at the kitchen table, drinking his coffee and reading on his cellphone. Tim is drinking a cup of coffee (maybe 5th refill?) and eating pancakes and some sausage.

“Good morning,” I say to all of them.

“Good morning sweetie,” Mom replies with such a warm motherly smile.

Bruce grins at me. “Good morning, Y/N.”

All Tim does is nod his head to me and continues to eat.

“I’m starving,” I say and already fill my plate with two pancakes and some bacon and sausage as well.

I take a seat next to Tim and dig in. Ace, Bruce’s dog moves closer to my feet and looks up at me for some food. Fucking puppy dog eyes...I sneak a few pieces of bacon to him.

Mom eventually sits down with hers and Bruce’s plate. He smiles lovingly at her and the two kiss.

It’s a calming morning. Everyone’s eating and just enjoying the silence...until the asshole comes into the kitchen.

Jason literally has no shame. He comes in only wearing his black boxers and has very cute bed head. Stop it, Y/N. He’s completely shirtless. Not even acknowledging he’s in the kitchen, Jason quickly makes a plate for himself which he only puts three pancakes and like two handful sizes of bacon.

I silently growl and tighten my hand around my fork as I’m stuck looking at his bare, muscular upper body. His arms look strong. He’s just...all muscle. All man.

But then I remember he’s a fucking asshole and I hate him.

As if he can feel my eyes on him, Jason quickly glances at me and smirks. He actually fucking flexes his muscles for me.

I immediately look down because I just know my cheeks are red like tomatoes. God, does he have to be so attractive???

“Good morning, princess,” Jason taunts me, after greeting everyone else, obviously. He sits directly in front of me with that shit eating grin. “Did you sleep well last night?”

I glare at him. Fuck him. “Yeah, I did. You know very well that I can’t sleep peacefully unless you bring a whore home and fuck her until she’s blue in the face, Jason. I mean, when it’s so quiet at night, I just can’t fall asleep! It’s impossible! It’s like I HAVE to hear you fuck just to go to sleep!” I say sarcastically.

“So, you do listen to me when I fuck my girls, huh? Is your sex life nonexistent that you have to get yourself off on others who actually get off?” Jason jokes and shoves a piece of bacon in his mouth. “That’s pretty pathetic, even for you, Y/N. At least Tiny Tim here watches internet porn. Maybe you should start getting yourself off with that instead of listening to me fuck.”

“Jason...” Bruce warns. “Don’t even start this morning.”

“Start what? I’m not even doing anything,” Jason says. He raises an eyebrow at me and keeps that fucking smirk on his face.

“Leave Y/N alone, Jason,” Tim butts in.

“Quiet Timbers. Let the princess tell me off. I love it when she gets all red and pissed off.”

My mom glances at me with a serious look, too. Why is she giving me that look when I didn’t even do anything?!

“Aw, there’s sausage?! I didn’t know there was sausage up there!” Jason whines. His eyes dart from my plate over to my mom and Bruce.

“I actually served the last few pieces to Bruce. I’m sorry, Jason,” my mom apologizes. She frowns and looks down at hers and Bruce’s empty plates.

“That’s all right. I see there’s still five uneaten sausages on Y/N’s plate,” Jason says and smirks at me. He looks down at my plate and back up at me. “You’re not going to eat them, are you princess? Because if not, I want them.”

He’s fucking teasing me. Jason is mocking me with those green eyes and that fucking smile that wets every girl’s panties. It’s like he actually believes he’s going to get away with this. He really thinks he’s going to get what he wants. Jason slowly reaches a hand towards my plate to get my sausages.

I want to burst his cocky bubble in front of everyone.

“Actually...I’m going to give them to the dog. And by dog, I mean Ace,” I say, quickly grabbing all the sausages in my hand and feed them to Ace under the table. “You see, I don’t feed dirty dogs like you. Ace is a clean, loyal, and sweet dog. You on the other hand are a dirty, disgusting, slut who fucks anything with a hole.”

My sudden outburst startles everyone at the table. I see everyone’s wide eyes and open mouths hanging in shock at me.

Jason chuckles lowly. His eyes are full of anger and hatred for me. “What did you just say to me?” he asks.

“You heard me,” I reply with the same tone. “Unless you lost your hearing due to all the screaming from the banshee skank you brought home last night from only God knows where.”

“You know, you’re starting to sound like a jealous bitch. For someone who has claimed to hate me and not want anything to do with me on multiple occasions, you seem to be really obsessed about my sex life,”

“Oh please, don’t flatter yourself,”

“Y/N stop,” my mom says.

“You think I’m flattering myself?! I’m not the one who always checks myself out! You know, I always see you staring at me right?! If anything, you’re flattered by me!” Jason snaps.

“ENOUGH!!!” Bruce shouts.

We’re all silent but Jason and I continue to stare each other down.

“I’ve had enough of the two of you fighting! It’s old and it’s seriously ridiculous. It needs to end now. Your mother and I are going to leave for Spain tonight, and I don’t want to hear anything bad about the two of you while we’re gone. Now, apologize to each other,” Bruce says.

“Apologize to the princess? For what?! She’s a fucking bitch, who’s always bitching, and she’s basically the biggest bitch who ever bitched!” Jason yells. “She should apologize to me!”

“If I’m a fucking bitch then that makes you the biggest asshole here! You’re literally the most disgusting, disrespectful, lazy ass guy I have ever met! You have NO respect for anyone who lives here! Why should I fucking apologize to you?! All you do is drink, eat all the food, and bring random whores to our house and force us all to listen to you have sex!” I yell back.

“Our house? You think this is your house, too? I hate to burst your “bitching bubble” sweetheart, but this isn’t your house! You’re extra baggage that had to be dragged here! Your mom was wanted here; not you. As far as I’m concerned, you’re not even family!” Jason yells louder than before.

My bottom lip trembles uncontrollably. I feel tears running down my cheeks. I need to get out of here before I completely break down in front of Jason.

“You’re such a fucking asshole, Jason!” I choke out.

I quickly jump out of my seat and run up the stairs. After I slam my bedroom door, I throw myself down onto my bed and cry. I can even hear Bruce screaming his head off and tearing Jason a new one.

——————————————————————————

I wake up to an empty stomach. Rolling over onto my back, I rub my eyes and yawn. It’s dark in my bedroom; indicating it’s already nighttime. I reach for my cellphone on my nightstand and see it’s already eight o’clock.

I must have been really exhausted to have slept the day away. Those days usually happen after I cry a lot and feel like shit.

Mom and Bruce are probably already gone. Their Spain trip is only for the weekend. I’m seriously glad about that since I don’t know how I’m going to get through the weekend with Jason still around.

Maybe if I’m lucky he’s already at the bar and picking up skanks. That means I have time to eat and a few hours of silence for myself.

I decide to go downstairs and I instantly notice all the lights are off except for the kitchen light. Slowly stepping into the kitchen, I see it’s empty and that there’s a big box of pizza and two drinks; a bottle of beer and a glass of orange juice with the bottle of Vodka next to it.

Raising an eyebrow in question, I look around to see who did this. Noticing the back sliding door is open, I walk over slowly to peek out.

Jason.

On the phone and sitting at the patio table.

He doesn’t see me but I can hear him clearly.

“Do you think she’ll really like it?”

#dc comics #jason todd x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd #batman

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yoondoze · 4 years

Text

make a wish | jjk

jeongguk doesn’t know it, but his wish came true.

pairing: jeon jeongguk x reader

word count: 3.5k

genre: angst, best friend!au

warnings: mentions of sex, language

a/n: uhh been in a jeongguk mood recently, so i’m riding it out through writing angsty drabbles :’) this is lowkey unedited so shh

You’re sick of sharing birthdays with Jeon Jeongguk.

Yeah, your perfectly timed entrance into this world on the same date was the basis of your friendship, but every year? It made sense when you were kids and had to invite the entire class to your parties since everyone had the same friends. But now you’re sixteen, and things are different.

While the two of you have always been close friends, what with growing up around the block together and spending the dog days of summer crossing between the sandbox and the pool with one another, you also have put together your own separate friend groups at school. And now that all of them are here together, it’s an awkward intermingling of teenagers that don’t have much in common, other than that they all suddenly forget who they’re here for when they see an attractive person their same age.

The only good thing about it is that Jeongguk invited his cute guy friends. Not here for you, per se, but the attention is all the same. Especially when it’s coming from Park Jimin. The way he wished you a happy birthday earlier was the most charming thing you’ve ever seen to date.

Jeongguk, bowl cut and all, is having the time of his life. The fact that its his 16th birthday doesn’t matter as much as the fact that it’s his birthday. He doesn’t feel much different like he thought he might. Maybe it is because every cool YA protagonist he ever idolized was saving the world at 16. By now, he’s decided that all the romanticized versions of teenage lives he’s been sold on up to this very moment is a scam. Nonetheless, he’s a simple boy. He’s just enjoying the time bowling with his friends.

...Until the moment he lays eyes on you.

The alley is dark, and though it obscures your features, he knows you well enough to see you’re upset. Your friends are barely hanging out with you, seeming to have left you behind for his friends, who coincidentally left him behind for yours. He also knows you compromised for this party. You wanted painting, envisaging a lovely evening with your companions, seated behind easels and letting your creativity flow onto a canvas. You were eight hours older and therefore the one in charge of making the decisions - it was a no-brainer, in your eyes.

But Jeongguk, never one to give in, insisted on bowling. Your parents were forcing a shared party again this year, and with how you eventually accepted that Jeongguk would throw a fit if he had to paint on his birthday, you reluctantly agreed under the obligatory condition that he invited his friend Jimin.

Who he was starting to hate, by the way. You gave more attention to the kid you were crushing on from history instead of the best friend you’d grown up with your entire life. Every time he saw you stare longingly at some stupid boy that was as mature as a cucumber, he wanted to scream that the real pickle was standing right in front of you!

Give him a break. It’s the only analogy his sixteen year old mind can think of.

The caring boy he is, he walks over to where you sit solemnly by yourself. All you’ve been doing for the past five minutes is tapping your feet to the overplayed pop music flooding the joint and continuously picking at your fingers - an unquestionably fantastic time. He shoves out his hand for you to take, which you willingly do in hopes for a cure for your boredom, and he drags you over to his lane. The way you roll your eyes at his enthusiasm only makes him like you more. That’s because it’s always accompanied by a fond smile, and he loves to see your dimples.

He’d never tell you, though. He’d definitely never tell his mom, because he knows she’d get too eager and tell your mom, and then she’d tell you. His mom has been rooting for the two of you since day one. She always was saying things like, “I’m not letting you date anyone unless it’s Y/N,” or, “I can’t wait until you and Y/N go to prom!”

At one point he wondered if he actually liked you or if it was the result of his mom’s wishes manifesting into real life after such diligence. He has since then accepted his feelings as his own, but won’t deny how the ideas sometimes made his cheeks flush.

In the time since the party has started, your “friends” have disappeared to the bathroom twice. His friends are over getting snacks without him, but it doesn’t upset him anymore. He didn’t really want their company anyway. It’s just the two of you, how it’s always been, and how he wanted it from the start.

“Watch, watch, okay?” He says, excitement dripping off every syllable. He figures he can maybe lift your mood if his is high enough to share some with you.

“Okay, I’m watching!” you exclaim. Jeongguk swells as he watches your cheeks bounce.

He seats you behind the machine and hurries to pick up a fourteen-pound ball swirled with blue and purple.

Now that he actually has to do it, Jeongguk’s heart races just a little bit. He just doesn’t want to embarrass himself, that’s all. His skills have improved from practice and the bowling team at school and it would suck if he screwed up. Especially considering that the reason he was so certain about a bowling party was so he’d have the chance to show off to you. But then he thinks it might make you laugh if he embarrasses himself, so his reassurance is that it’ll be a win either way.

He takes a deep breath. He draws back skillfully and with four purposeful steps, his right foot slips behind him and his arm swings fluidly toward his target. The ball hits the waxed floor rolling. The tension in his body is stiff as it heads right toward the pins, and boom! All ten fall in a domino effect, the rough clattering echoing in the alley. A perfect strike.

His fists pump into the air as his chest fills with pride. He spins on his heels, eyes sparkling as he hopes to find a smile on your face when he gets there -

But you’re not even paying attention. His ecstatic expression falls as quickly as his spirit does. Your head is turned from him, and when he follows your gaze, it lands on none other than fucking Park Jimin. There’s a subtle smile resting on your lips as you focus on his mindless laughter as opposed to Jeongguk’s imposing strike. Jimin is standing at the controls of a claw machine, working the joystick as his friends direct him to grab some stupid inflatable basketball the size of his palm. If it were Jeongguk, he’d go for the plush bear in the machine over and get it for you in one try.

“C’mon guys!” Your mom yells, breaking you from your infatuated stare. “Cake!”

The boys give up on their escapade and the girls magically apparate back from their fifteen minute long bathroom break. Thrilled jeers and whoops sound from everyone now filtering into the party room, somehow more excited about it than the birthday boy and girl themselves.

As you get up from your seat, you meet Jeongguk’s eyes with a quick raise of your brows, oblivious to the fact you just obliterated his heart without saying a single word. Then he’s trailing behind you, brushing his hair from his face with a sigh while everyone gathers around the table and lets you take your place at the head.

Amidst the singing and the cheers from your peers, Jeongguk can’t stop himself from glancing over to you. Right away, he knows the smiles you’re tossing out to your friends are forced. He regrets having this party in the first place. He hates seeing you disappointed and upset. He’ll choose painting any day if it means you won’t be like this.

You, on the other hand, are trying to get a peek of Jimin at every second possible. You can make out his voice among the others while singing. It’s just happy birthday, but his voice is actually really pretty, so you jot it down to reference in your next day dream.

“Make a wish!”

He thinks hard, imagining everything he could want at this point in his life. The spot for team captain, to ace his next Chemistry test, for a new bike. But wishing for something like that seems silly when he already knows what he really wants.

A big breath of air - “special for your 16th!” - and the two of you are blowing out the candles. One is all it takes for each of the waving flames to flicker out.

Jeongguk wishes that you’ll like him back.

You wish that Jimin will like you back.

☆☆☆

In retrospect, maybe it wasn’t such a great idea to shift your relationship with Jeongguk into something more than platonic friends. At this point, he’d call it friends with benefits. You’d call it getting your heart ripped out every time he dialed your number. Even worse, it was undeniably voluntary.

It was an awkward start. Both of you got drunk one night in his apartment, sitting on the cold tile of the kitchen floor, started asking heavy, slurred questions, and maybe admitted, “yeah, I’d fuck you,” on a whim. And then maybe you did just that.

It was supposed to be a one-time event. A weird moment in your timeline of friendship that you’d agree on forgetting. Something that you both would pretend never happened so things wouldn’t change.

However, Jeongguk’s life had been a roller coaster recently. He moved to the city with the intention of freedom only for things to get more complicated. His career was struggling, his girlfriend broke up with him, his friends barely spoke to him anymore.

So it was just you and him again, like it had always been. You were the only one who still visited, who still called, who still cared. That’s what friends are for. Help when times are rough and be there when needed. That’s your part of the deal.

Sex isn’t always included in said deal, but it is this time around.

It’s not much different. You come over for a regular movie night like you used to, but sometimes it ends up in his bedroom, that’s all. To him, anyway. You’re not sure how he hasn’t caught on yet. He’s so preoccupied that he probably chalks your racing pulse up to being horny, or interprets the emotion in your kisses as neediness. The way you hold onto him or say his name as pleasure.

It’s that endless love you have for him taking its many forms. It’s dropping off extra meals to stick in the fridge and checking in to make sure he isn’t beating himself up to the point where he can’t get out of bed. It’s also letting him fuck you when he needs to feel something.

He’s just in a rut. He just needs some time to get his life together and figure shit out. And from there it’ll be peaches and cream. When his life is on the upturn, he’ll realize you’re the one who’s always been there and who always will be, and then he’ll fall in love with you too. You’re not scared, you’re just helping your best friend through a tough time. But then he’s panting, rolling off you to take a shower right after.

It stings every time. Even when you think it will be different.

At the end of the day, if it makes him feel better, you’ll endure it a thousand times over. On a bright side that’s not all that bright, for the moments you spend intertwined, you can at least pretend he’s yours. You can imagine it’s just another hot night shared in your apartment as you live out your dreamy domestic couple’s life. It sometimes seems that way with how much you take care of him, but he’d never see it as anything more than platonic.

Jeongguk knows you love him, of course, but he doesn’t know the extent it reaches. He doesn't know that your heart shatters every time he gives you a kiss on the cheek and says he loves you. He doesn’t know that when you say it back, you don’t mean just as friends. He doesn’t know you’d drop everything and run if he asked you to. You didn’t even know it for a while. Because falling in love with Jeongguk is slow and comes day by day without realizing, until suddenly you’re stuck neck deep without an inkling in your mind of trying to escape. It’s a gentle, spellbinding bloom you wouldn’t trade for the world.

From this view on his bed, you can see a glimpse of his figure behind the foggy glass of his upright shower. You tug your t-shirt back on for some modesty as if it still matters, swallowing down the tightening in your throat. If he feels your eyes lingering on him, he doesn’t show it. For whatever reason, watching him wash his face in small circles makes your stomach sink inexplicably.

Jeongguk at the fresh age of twenty-one is a lot different than Jeongguk at sixteen. Gone is the bowl cut, in comes long wavy hair that hangs in front of his face, always seeming to fall perfectly to frame his features. His shoulders broadened along with his horizons. His personality hasn’t changed, but it’s easy to think it has with the dark cloud that seems to follow him wherever he walks nowadays. You never realized how cute his dimples were until they started showing less and less.

You toy with the idea of maybe just confessing tonight. Get it off your chest once and for all. It would save you a lot of heartbreak, but you can already picture yourself sputtering it out for tense silence to fill the air, and for you to walk out and never come back. You can’t decide if it’s really worth risking when he’s the only thing you’ve got. There are a myriad of directions your life could take, but you wouldn’t want a single one without him in it, even if it crushes you.

A deep sigh escapes you. It’s your birthday today - shouldn’t you be enjoying it instead of being so morally torn?

How is it that you had him so close for so many years yet still missed your chance?

The memory of wishing for Jimin’s returned affection as a teenager resurfaces and makes you wince. While he did end up liking you back, it was a mess of a relationship that left you moping back to Jeongguk after just a few months. It should have been obvious back then that it was him all along.

He was always right in front of you, doting on you, leaving his everlasting mark on your life without even meaning to. Charming and humble and telling jokes to make you laugh rather than to make you think he was funny, being kind out of the purity of his character rather than to be rewarded. Apologizing to ants when he had to kill them and then sulking the rest of the night, learning to braid your hair while watching movies, listening to your every rant and ramble with the utmost attention as if it was the only thing that mattered to him.

Then it hits you that it’s not just about you and never was. It’s Jeongguk’s birthday today, too. You wished it to each other when you walked through the door, but that’s not a celebration, and neither is sex. You’re reminded that your job is to be a friend regardless of how you feel because you know he’d do the same, and good friends wouldn’t spend your special day wallowing in their own self-pity.

With renewed vigor, you’re pushing yourself off the bed and padding out to his sorry excuse for a kitchen. There’s barely enough space to move around comfortably and you can’t imagine how he does it on a daily basis. The view beyond the counter-top and out the balcony connected to the living room is beautiful, though. It’s miles upon miles of shining lights and skyscrapers that embrace the velvet dusk of the sky. That’s broke city living, you suppose. You flick on the light, dim but just enough to see.

His cabinets are an absolute mess. There’s no organization to it at all, no method to the madness. It’s blatant even from the unsteady view on your tippy toes. You catch sight of some peanut butter, bags of chips, packets of ramen, a box of cinnamon frosted pop tarts…

You almost lose your balance as you shift everything around, but the feeling of joy when you see that signature box is indescribable. It’s exactly what you need.

The blue and white packaging of the Hostess CupCakes has been opened, and considering it was sitting at the back of the top shelf, probably forgotten about. However, you’re sure it’ll be enough for him.

You find the lighter fairly easily, pulling open all the drawers out and rummaging through them. As expected, there’s no organization either. Measuring cups and pens in one, scissors and a single oven mitt in another. It’s the third and final drawer you tug open to find something to possibly substitute what you’re looking for.

Not that you expected him to have birthday candles lying around, but you didn’t think you’d be using an old red crayon in ones place. It’ll make do. It has to, considering that the noise of Jeongguk shutting off the shower is already reverberating off the walls. It won’t be much of a surprise if he walks out here and asks what you’re doing before you can even finish.

With delicate fingers, you press the end of the crayon into the cake just enough for it to stay upright. The lighter takes a couple tries, as does getting the wax to melt down enough to reach the paper, but eventually a small glowing flame takes shape. Flickering orange and everything you need it to be. You can’t put your finger on why your eyes start to tear up when you look at it, but then Jeongguk is calling your name.

“One sec! Just sit down,” you say loudly, ready to shout at him to stay back if you hear a creaky foot step coming your way.

“...Why?”

“Just do it!”

“Alright, alright.” He surrenders, the weariness coating his tongue one that you hope you can wash away within the next few seconds. “I am sitting.”

Hands as stable as an anchor, you slide the cupcake into your palms and walk carefully so as to not put out the dwarfed blaze. You turn your back to push open the door with and glide into the room with an atypical but much appreciated vivacity.

His eyes widen and an open mouthed smile tweaks at his lips as he perches at the edge of the bed. The flame is already halfway down the paper, but he seems impressed with your extempore candle. It’s the only source of light in the room, and his face underneath the gentle glimmer is a sight that you know you’ll lock away forever to look back on with adoration.

“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you...” you begin to sing, not bothered with the worry of embarrassment. Your lawless, flimsy tone elicits a bubbly laugh from Jeongguk. Suddenly, the bright Gguk you grew up beside returns, the one you love more than ever.

“Happy birthday dear Jeongguk-”

His voice harmonizes with yours, but he sings your name instead of his. He doesn’t even have to try for it to rattle you to your core. Your name off his tongue is by far the most beautiful thing you’ve ever heard.

“Happy birthday to you.”

You extend your arms out so he can take in the makeshift festivity for all it is. His damp side-swept bangs reflect the pale gleam like black gossamer, and his eyes swimming with sentimentality.

“Make a wish,” you say, suppressing the wild flutter of your heart.

Jeongguk cups his hands under yours, pushing them back until the cupcake is equidistant to the both of you.

He says it firmly, not to be argued with. “No, together.”

You pretend to wipe the sweat from your forehead, thinking of what you might want this year. A job opportunity, to win the lottery, an easier semester at school. You don’t have to ponder for long. How could you, when what you really want has been sitting patiently at the forefront of your mind for almost a year?

Jeongguk sighs. If he could have anything in the world right now, what would it be?

In unison, you suck in a deep breath and close your eyes. You blow with all your might, extinguishing the flame together in one as the room falls dark again.

You wish that Jeongguk will like you back.

Jeongguk just wishes that life will get easier.

#jungkook fanfic #jungkook drabble #jungkook angst #btsguild #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook x reader #jungkook oneshot #jungkook scenario #jungkook x you #jungkook fic #jungkook imagine #bts fanfic #bts angst #bts imagine #bts x reader #yoondoze

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themalhambird · 3 years

Text

Growing Up Broken: I Talk About My (A)sexuality For 4 ¼ Pages.

I am asexual.

No, this doesn’t mean that I’m some form of plant budding off copies of myself if I get enough water and sunlight. It’s a shame. I could do a lot with multiple copies of myself- get someone else to do the dishes, the cleaning, my schoolwork…

I am asexual.

Asexuality is the absence of sexual desires or feelings for other people. I say absence deliberately: sexual attraction is not something that I lack or am missing. I am not going without. I’m just a 23 year old who has never once felt the desire to have sex with another person, who couldn’t describe how it feels to “fancy” someone if there was a gun to their head, who thinks women and men and anyone in between can sometimes be stunningly beautiful, would possibly be nice to cuddle- but kissing on the mouth seems like it would be a really weird thing to do.

I am asexual, and it’s almost Pride Month, and so I want to untangle some of the thoughts in my head and spin them out on to paper, to try and lay out my feelings about my sexuality, or lack thereof, and what it’s like growing up when no one bothers to tell you that not experiencing sexual desire like, ever, is a thing. Let’s start at the beginning, shall we?

It’s 2014. Puberty has doing stuff to me for the last two years or so: periods (urgh), breasts (neat!), underarm hair (why do I have to shave this? no one’s gonna see it), growth spurts (I’m getting taller than my older sister. I want to keep going till I’m taller than mum). The only thing not happening is wanting to have sex, something the nurse who came to Talk To Us All About Growing Up back in 2009 assured us Year Sixes would definitely happen as soon as puberty hit.

Still. It’ll happen soon, probably. Sixteen is still a bit too young to be having sexual feelings, right? The boys…really not interesting at all, but the other girls are pretty. I like their hair. I like the shape of their bodies. I just don’t fancy any of them. When we’re told to imagine our future husbands or wives in class (don’t ask my why, I’ve long forgotten the point of the exercise, I just remember that) I picture a wife.

(Lesbian is the first label I apply to myself. I stick it on tentatively- keep peeling it off my shirt and putting it back somewhere different like I’m not quite sure where it fits. It’s not wrong, necessarily. I’m just not certain it’s right. I like girls a whole lot better but I’m not saying I could never love a guy. I’m just not attracted to them. I’m not attracted to women, either- but I feel like I will be. When I’m old enough to feel that kind of thing. )

Sex Ed lessons are mortifying. We’re asked to list all the sexual terms we know on an A3 sheet of paper. I don’t know what half the things other people say mean- blowjob, 69, masturbate, porn . I don’t know how other people know these things either. We’re sixteen. It’s too young.

That summer I play Sebastian in an abridged version of Twelfth Night and it convinces me to take Drama at A-level, although I didn’t at GCSE. The drama classes teach me two things. First of all, I don’t like acting women. I prefer breeches rolls. I don’t know why. We’re talking about my asexuality, not my gender confusion, so let’s put a pin in that and move on to point two. My drama class teaches me that everyone my age is having sex, or wants to have sex, or is planning on having sex soon; sex is a constant, every class, every conversation. Sex, sex, sex, sex, sex. So apparently sixteen (seventeen) isn’t too young after all.

It’s like this. One day you wake up and you realise that everyone else is speaking a language you don’t understand. Suddenly, sexual feelings aren’t something that no one your age is having but you’ll all develop soon- it’s that sexual feelings are something that everybody your age is having apart from you. People your age are dating, kissing, fucking, and it’s not something you’re interested in doing, necessarily, but you still feel so horribly left out. Like you’re missing some kind of major milestone. You try not to let it bother you- you watch Buffy every Monday you get to see your dad. (You watch loss of virginity be portrayed as growing up). You read. (The books you pick up all involve love and love always seems to at least imply sex). You- google things. You google the words you didn’t understand in that sex ed class. You google “how to tell if you’re attracted to someone” in case there’s some secret signal your body sent you that you missed. You feel like you should know if you’ve ever felt sexual attraction but then maybe you’re just really, really dumb. Maybe there’s something wrong with you. The NHS website reckons that if you’ve got a low sex drive you ought to see a doctor. The girls in your drama class keep talking about boys and sex and sex and boys and you aren’t really interested in either of those things. You cling to the thought, lesbian and hope that when you get to university, you’ll stop being so repressed. Girls are pretty- but the ones at school are either your friends or kind of mean. Of course you don’t fancy anyone there. University. University will save you. (Boys are sometimes pretty too. There are boys at school whose personalities are nice enough- who are the type of man you wouldn’t mind dating one day maybe- but you can’t ever picture yourself having sex with one. Dicks seem weird and really not the kind of thing you’d want inside you. I mean for fuck’s sake- why? You can’t even get a tampon in.)

I don’t like looking back on this. Sixteen, seventeen year old me was starting to get pretty freaked out. I like looking back at the first year of uni even less, because if seventeen year old me was freaking out, eighteen year old me was buying alcohol. That’s how it goes, right? Sex and alcohol. You see it all the time on T.V. Fictional people get fictional drunk and fictional cheat while they’re on fictional breaks with their fictional partners. David Tennant is pretty. A man at work is handsome and more importantly intelligent, into Shakespeare, into good conversation. The label switches from lesbian to ‘bisexual but heavily skewed toward women’ and I cling to that as tightly as possible because after that, I’m out of options. It is impossible that I’m not feeling sexual attraction: the whole world screams about sexual fucking attraction all the fucking time, I’m obviously just too uptight, I obviously just need to relax-

I once drank a whole bottle of wine in what was essentially one go. I paused for breath, but that was about it- I don’t think I even bothered with a glass. My goal was to get myself drunk enough that I could feel sexual attraction. I thought that the best way to go about things- to finally ‘grow up’- would be to get super drunk, and then leave the flat and find someone who would screw me. I reasoned that I would enjoy it once I was doing it- after all, the whole world pushes sex as this wholly desirable thing for any normal adult to want, even need- so I would like it once I was doing it and then I would be fixed. Fortunately, drinking a whole bottle of wine when you’ve never had more than a single glass of champagne or a couple of glasses of rum and apple juice before in your life gets you past “lowered inhibitions” to “can’t walk straight or upright” very quickly. I got as far as the bathroom, threw up, a lot, and staggered back to my room. I woke up at 3 pm the next afternoon feeling stupid for drinking, and mad at myself for still being a virgin.

I had a lot of problems in my first year of university and not all of them were about my sexuality crisis. I was isolated, fairly friendless, and not really cut out for socialising with my housemates who were probably all lovely people, but I find new people painfully difficult and hiding away seemed easier. But the feeling that there was something broken inside me because I wasn’t experiencing what everything seemed to be telling me was one of the most vital parts of the human experience- sexual attraction to other people- contributed to my general feelings of self-loathing and disgust. I attempted to induce sexual desire in myself by drinking on several further occasions, although never quite to the same extent as the first time. I’m not sure whether this counts as self-harm, but it certainly wasn’t healthy.

I didn’t know asexuality was a thing.

I knew I wasn’t straight- I’d known that for a while. I learnt that I enjoyed reading, talking, even writing about sex, as long as it was sex between people who weren’t real, but fantasising about fictional characters having sex and fantasying about myself having sex are two very different things. The former happened fairly frequently. The latter didn’t happen once, and still never has. My second year at university was better than my first: I was living with friends, I was further away from campus which meant I had to walk more, which probably helped, I had also started to make several friends online with whom I could happily chat even when I wasn’t in the mood for ‘actual’ people. I used bisexual to describe myself because on the rare occasions I thought about romance, I couldn’t really see myself ruling out anyone who was willing to put up with me.

I’m not quite clear when I first heard the term ‘asexuality’. I became aware of it gradually. Someone I followed on Tumblr identified as ‘grey-ace’. Characters from my favourite fantasy series were being headcanoned as ‘asexual’. At some point I must have learnt properly what that meant.

It sometimes feels like there ought to have been a lightbulb moment- like I should have seen the word, seen the definition, and instantly seen myself. But it is very, very hard to delete the message- ‘sex is important- sex is what grown-ups do- sex is what you should want to do’ – that the world constantly sends to us: in advertising, in entertainment, in the conversations of a drama class that always circled back to that topic, to the detriment of the sole seventeen year old who wasn’t really bothered. To embrace asexuality seemed like I was giving up on trying to fix myself, on waiting for the right person to come and make everything better. On the potential of their being a right person. I can wrap my head around people having casual sex very easily. It’s romantic love without sexual desire that I’m scared won’t work- how am I supposed to know if it’s love without there also being physical attraction? No romance arc that I had ever seen was without an element of sexual tension. So, no lightbulb moment for me. No switch going off- “aha, at last, that’s what I am!”. Just a gradual thought washing across my mind every now and then, like the tide rushing up a patch of sand and drawing straight back, leaving only dampness to show where there had been a good half-inch of water only a moment ago.

I might be asexual?

And ‘I might’ becomes ‘I think I am’, and the tide starts coming in. ‘I think I am’ became ‘I am’ at some point or other.

I am asexual.

I find reassurance in knowing that there’s a word for what I am, for how I (do not) feel. I am asexual. Not broken, or damaged, or too uptight to properly feel, or too dumb to recognise what I do feel. I am asexual- I have an absence of any sexual desire for others and that’s perfectly okay. I might fall in love one day. I might not. I don’t know how you’re supposed to know if you have the capacity to fall in love before you find yourself doing it. It might be nice to have a wife. It would also be nice to have a cat. I could cope with it just being me, a cat, and good friends for the rest of my life. If I fall in love- if I am capable of falling in love- it will just mean I am asexual, but romantic, and I will have learnt something new about myself. The point is-

The point is, I am incredibly lucky that I stumbled across Asexuality before I got myself hurt trying to force something that wasn’t there. The point is, this world assumes that sexual desires are the norm, and maybe they are, but that just makes it all the more important that people know that they aren’t abnormal for not experiencing sexual desire. To all the people who need to hear it: You are not broken. You are not alone.

I’m not sure how to wrap this up. I feel like I should say something profound or something. But I think I’m just gonna leave it like this:

I am asexual. Asexuality is the absence of sexual desires or feelings for other people. I say absence deliberately: sexual attraction is not something that I lack or am missing. I am not going without. I’m just a 23 year old who has never once felt the desire to have sex with another person, who couldn’t describe how it feels to “fancy” someone if there was a gun to their head, who thinks women and men and anyone in between can sometimes be stunningly beautiful, and possibly be nice to cuddle- but kissing on the mouth seems like it would be a really weird thing to do. I am not broken. I am not ‘going through a phase’ or ‘looking for attention’ or ‘trying to be special’. Everyone’s special, fuck you. Knowing that I am not the only person to feel how I feel makes me feel like I’m standing on solid ground. May all people experiencing the same confusion and distress over their sexual orientation that I felt growing up find their way safely to the same solid ground: you are not broken. We’re not broken.

#asexuality #wow this got long #no i haven't proof read it i just wanted to get it off my chest #discussion of sex tw #alcohol tw #self harm tw #(mostly just in case I'm not sure if it counts or not)#I don't know what this is except a long winded account of growing up asexual when you don't know that's a thing and how you cope with that #or- y'know- don't cope with that #maybe someone else will find it helpful or relatable idk

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