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bangtanintotheroom · 3 months

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Fill the Void (M)

I don't wanna decide things for myself, on my own

Finally, for the first time, I'm alone

You call me, havin' good times with a bad boy

Seems I've got a choice to make

Be my voice and I choose you to fill the void

• Pairing: Professional Dom!Hyunjin x Client!(F)Reader

• Genre: Non-Idol!AU, Sex Worker!AU, Smut

• Rating: 18+

• Words: 7.1k

• Summary: He’s always there to help you forget your troubles, even if it’s just for a few hours.

• Warnings/themes: explicit sexual content, sex work, swearing, drinking, discussion of safe words and consent, dom!Hyunjin, sub!Y/N, sensory deprivation (blindfold), usage of sl*t, degradation, bondage, edging, orgasm denial, manhandling, praise, use of sex toys, fingering, oral (f. receiving), dirty talk, light choking, protected sex, spanking, multiple orgasms, aftercare

• Playlist: 🎧

• Song Inspo: Fill the Void - The Weeknd, Lily-Rose Depp (Spotify | Soundcloud)

• Notes: Wow, look who finished this, eons later! I am so sorry for everyone who’s been looking forward to this, between the holiday and con rush and focus issues, it was hard getting this complete 🥲 but it’s here now and I hope it was somewhat worth the wait! Shoutout to my lovely Sunclair @minisugakoobies for beta reading! 💖

• Taglist: @minttangerines @aznstoner @horanghater @addictedtohobi @swga-ficrecs @firesighgirl @hyunjinsjeans

It didn’t matter how many times you frequented this place; your reaction would always be the same.

Heart picking up in speed as you opened the heavy wooden door between a nail salon and a cat cafe.

Eyes darting around at the picture frames of scantily clad people hanging on the burgundy walls.

Lips curling as you approached the androgynous young man sitting behind the singular desk in the lobby.

He was quick to notice you, glittered eyes crinkling in recognition.

“Y/N, so good to see you again!”

“Same to you, Felix. Is he here tonight?”

What did it say about you that a specific name didn’t have to be announced for him to know who you were talking about?

“Of course, he just got in a few minutes ago. I’ll give him a call.”

Nodding in understanding, you waited as the receptionist picked up the phone and dialed. It didn’t take long for him to start speaking to who was on the other end.

“Hey man, what’s up? I’ve got a surprise for you here.”

A pause while you fiddled with your purse strap.

“One of your regulars is back.”

Felix chose to shoot you a wink from the side, making you grin bashfully.

“Yup, that’s the one. How long will it be?”

More silence before he nodded.

“Sounds good, she’ll be waiting for you. See ya.”

Hanging up the phone, Felix shot you a smile that contrasted with the dark and sensual decor.

“It’ll be a few minutes, he’s just freshening up and he’ll be out for you.”

His words only made your pulse quicken further, but you played it cool on the surface as you replied, “Wonderful. Thank you.”

“Just make yourself comfortable, okay?”

His suggestion was paired with an arm outstretched towards a waiting area to the right, occupied with a few patrons sitting on black velvet couches. With a nod at the blond, you headed into the room, only receiving a glance or two from the other occupants. You took a seat on one of the armchairs in the corner, crossing your legs and leaning back into the cushion as you waited.

To soothe the nerves that always plagued you in this establishment, your eyes took in the people nearby. There were only five of them, taking up little space in the sizable room.

Two of them were huddled together on one of the sofas, most likely a couple judging by the way they held hands and touched knees. Not an ounce of anxiety was on their faces; if anything, they looked eager for whatever was in store for them tonight.

As for the others…

Your eyes shifted subtly to the opposite side.

Three young men who seemed to be good friends, but were currently on different wavelengths. The one in the middle was sandwiched between the other two as they whispered excitedly. He seemed to be less enthusiastic than them, leg bouncing while he kept shaking his head or retorting to the others. A pat on the back helped ease his nerves, body leaning back into the seat as he took deep breaths.

Poor sap was probably a newbie.

You remembered when you were in his position. It felt like so long ago.

Or maybe you had just been here so often that it felt like a long time.

Either way, you were in and knew what you needed tonight.

“Y/N?”

A familiar voice brought you to attention, straightening up in your seat at the tall and lean figure now standing in front of you as your stomach flipped in on itself.

“Hyunjin.”

The man smiled down at you, the red lights illuminating and shadowing the right places on his handsome face.

“Welcome back.”

You returned the expression, cheeks heating up despite your best efforts. He always seemed to have this effect on you.

“It’s good to be back.”

Hyunjin’s magnetic smile only widened, holding a hand out towards you. Without exchanging any more words, you took it, marveling at the warmth and delicacy of it. The opposite of what it could really do behind closed doors.

He helped you up and led you out of the waiting room and back into the hall. You saw the other patrons staring at the two of you out of the corners of your eyes, expressions ranging from encouragement to curiosity. Probably wondering what the enticing worker and the client in her wrinkled pantsuit were going to get up to.

Nothing was said as you and him walked past closed doors, the occasional sounds soaking through them. A moan. A groan or two. Some laughter. Once in a while a scream of pleasure. Or pain.

The first couple of visits, you’d jump and blink owlishly at the rooms, your gaping broken by the gentle tug Hyunjin would give your hand. You were used to these noises by now; it was nothing but background music to you.

Finally, a familiar door ended up in your vision. The dark wood with the red chain wrapped around the handle had your stomach knotting in titillation. Just like always.

Hyunjin opened it and motioned you to enter first, waiting until you stepped halfway in to shut it behind him.

His designated room fit the aesthetic of the establishment, yet it had its own style that catered to its owner. Black made up most of the decor, with the occasional blocks of white and garnished by gold. With the large bed in the middle, decorated with multiple throw pillows, any passerby would assume this was a normal person’s bedroom.

But the oddly-shaped chair looming in the corner hinted at what occurred here other than sleeping and relaxing.

“Need a drink?”

The query made you inhale and let out a heavy breath.

“Please.”

You made yourself comfortable on the end of the king-sized bed, unbuttoning your blazer before tossing it behind you. The urge to lay back and sink into the cozy mattress crept up, but you fought it in favor of watching Hyunjin work his magic at the mini bar.

“I hadn’t heard from you in a while, thought something might’ve happened.”

You shook your head, even though he couldn’t see you.

“No, just a deadline that’s been sucking the soul out of me.”

The worker hummed in understanding, turning around to reveal a glass in his hand, halfway full with white wine. As soon as he was within reach, you took a hold of the drink, wasting no time in taking a sip. The room temperature liquid slid down your throat like it was gold, pulling a sigh out when you pulled the glass away.

“Fuck, I needed that. Thank you, Hyunjin.”

“You’re welcome, Y/N.”

Hyunjin sat next to you, the distance enough to be respectable yet hint to the familiarity the two of you had.

“How have you been?”

One more sip and you turned your head to answer.

“On the verge of jumping out a window.”

The chuckle he gave was minor, though his expression exuded sympathy.

“Has work been that difficult?”

“Difficult doesn’t even come close to it.”

“Oh?”

Just that one little word was enough to have you prepping to express just what had been plaguing you in your career to even bring you here tonight.

“Well, where do I start?”

You moved your free arm back to lean on it, head tilting back to face the ceiling.

“Rumor has it that one of my managers is going to be laid off soon, despite our team being in the middle of a large project.”

You lifted the half-empty glass in the air.

“We have a new intern. Nice kid, but the amount of times he’s forgotten the basic details because he’s too focused on the big picture is irritating.”

The grip on the crystal stem tightened.

“I just found out that the sales coordinator who has been hitting on me is married. But if you ask him, he’ll say he’s in an open relationship.”

You sighed and shook your head.

“I actually liked that asshole.”

Hyunjin gave a scoff before remarking, “Men aren’t shit.”

“Seriously. Oh, and—” The lip of the glass hovered just centimeters away from your lips now. “—I got a parking ticket this morning.”

The tiniest of snorts left Hyunjin while you downed the rest of your drink, letting out a sigh of relief once it finished sliding down your throat.

“You’ve really been going through it, haven’t you?”

“To say the least.”

Your head turned, looking over the other’s appearance with interest. He always had the most interesting outfits on whenever you came, emphasizing his tall and lean figure. This time was no exception.

A short-sleeved sweater vest with a crisp white collar and a black tie wrapped around his neck and simple black slacks. A few bracelets and a watch on his wrists to brighten up the dark look. His hair was tied up this time, showing off an undercut you remembered him mentioning during your last visit. But while you were studying his face, you noticed something that wasn’t there before.

“This is new.”

You pointed to the metal sitting underneath Hyunjin’s right brow, his expression brightening.

“Ah, you noticed. I got it a few weeks ago.”

A hum vibrated through your lips as you admired the piercing.

“It suits you.”

He was quick to express his gratitude, clearly pleased that you brought it up. The two of you conversed on whatever came up for a while, acting like old friends and not a worker and client about to get down to business. But you started growing restless after a certain point, ready to receive what you came here for.

“Hyunjin?”

“Hm?”

You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear while looking into his eyes.

“I think I’m ready now.”

Your words made Hyunjin’s eyes steel, starting to enter into professional mode.

“Are you sure?”

No hesitation.

“Yes.”

“Okay—” He placed a hand on the small of your back, rubbing with comfort. “—how do you want it, Y/N?”

You knew. You knew since you began planning to come here earlier in the week. But it was a little further than what you were used to doing with him.

So you had to swallow the spit gathering in your mouth before responding, “Rough. Rougher than usual.”

The shift in Hyunjin’s dark eyes resembled the one you would see in your coworkers as they prepared to counter suggestions in meetings. His hand also stopped rubbing your lower back.

“How rough?”

His question forced you to take a moment and remember how the system he had set up worked. When you mulled over just how far you wanted him to go, you held up four fingers. He counted each digit and raised a brow at your answer.

“Are you sure? We’ve never gone that far before.”

“Yes, Hyunjin. I really need this, believe me.”

Your tone was verging on desperate, dying to give complete control over to this man and forget about anything irrelevant. It was just the professional in him making sure that his client knew what they were signing up for. You appreciated it, really.

But you needed Hyunjin to start making you forget your own name.

Thankfully, he nodded after a pause or two, his hand continuing to move again.

“Okay, love. That means we’ll have to do a refresher on safe words.”

Ah. Now you really had to dig in your brain this time.

You had never been pushed far enough that you had to use them, but now you were testing your boundaries. Hyunjin was good at his job, but that didn’t mean things couldn’t go wrong.

With intense focus, you attempted to recall the words. It took a while yet they returned in full clarity.

“Soft.”

“To keep going.”

You nodded.

“Hard.”

His mouth quirked.

“To bring up the intensity.”

The next one.

“Pause.”

“To stop completely.”

“And…”

This one took longer, but you managed.

“Swap.”

“To switch it up.”

You hummed in approval, his answers matching up correctly with your words.

“I’m surprised you remember.”

Hyunjin’s shoulders lifted in nonchalance.

“It’s my job, darling.”

A chuckle came from you; he did have a point.

“Fair. So—” You set your empty glass on the floor before standing up, cocking your head as you looked down at him. “—should I undress myself or would you like to do the honors?”

Hyunjin gave you the sauciest of smirks, letting you know that play time was over.

“It’s all up to you, love.”

Yes.

This was just what you needed.

To think about nothing except the toy sliding in and out of you and the one controlling it.

It took little effort on Hyunjin’s part to clear your mind of the troubles plaguing you outside of this building. As soon as you were stripped down to nothing but your skin, he was quick to switch to his other persona, instructing you to get comfortable on the piece of furniture in the corner before strapping you in with ease. The way his lips quirked when he looked over your bound form never failed to raise goosebumps. It was the last glimpse you got of him before satin covered your eyes and left you to view nothing but darkness.

And true to his promise, he began pushing you to your limits.

“A-Ah—”

You could hear him huff below you, taunting, “You’re making a mess on my furniture, darling.”

You were pretty sure he wasn’t exaggerating; every time the vibrator sunk in or pulled back, you could feel your wetness dripping out and collecting into a puddle underneath your ass. This was how you got whenever Hyunjin teased you. The ability he had to build you up and make you walk to the mountaintop, only to force you to turn around and head back down was astonishing.

And addicting.

“Mnh—”

It was pointless to tug at the bands around your wrists. You didn’t even budge an inch.

“So needy for a piece of plastic. It’s adorable.”

You tried to stop what came out of your mouth next automatically, but failed, retorting, “That piece of plastic is making me feel good— Ah!”

A sharp impact on your thigh brought a cry out of you, swiftly followed by his stern voice.

“Manners, Y/N.”

Oops. One of the rules established was to not talk back and you almost ruined the mood.

“I’m sorry, sir.”

Hyunjin clicked his tongue at your meek apology, clearly not too pleased with the interruption.

“I thought I was doing my job, but I guess not since your mouth just ran off.”

You couldn’t avoid the way your walls squeezed when you heard him say in a velvety tone, “Guess we’ll have to fix that, hm?”

Within a second, you could feel the toy pulling out, a whine escaping your lips as you felt so empty all of a sudden.

“Sir—”

He didn’t allow you to utter another syllable as you felt something wet and hot gliding against your swollen folds out of nowhere. The sensation made you jerk in your restraints and yelp sharply, legs bound tight to prevent you from closing them. You weren’t sure if it was a good or bad thing at the moment.

Hyunjin’s tongue took its sweet time traveling, the tip dipping into crevices and swirling around your hard clit with precision. In any other situation, the attention would be welcome, especially from someone as skilled as him. But this was not helping with the golden rule of the night.

Don’t come unless he says so.

“Hyu— Sir, please!”

You trembled at the hum washing over your center. “Hm?”

“Sir…more.” A pause. “Please?”

Almost forgot your manners.

“I don’t know, love, can you handle more?”

Could you? Probably not, but tonight was about pushing your boundaries…

“Yes.”

Nothing but your labored breathing was heard for some time. Which was why you flinched at the feel of something much smaller and warmer than the vibrator poking at your entrance.

“Is this good enough for you, greedy thing?”

“Y-Yes sir!”

Your pitch increased when you felt his finger slide into you with little resistance, burying up to the knuckle. Hips raising at the sensation, they began following the rhythm of Hyunjin’s thrusting, enjoying the bundle of pleasure that began building up again.

“Fuck, you’re so needy.”

A pinch of your hip interrupted your movements, teeth catching onto your bottom lip.

“Fucking yourself onto my finger like a slut. Never imagined that this would be what I dealt with tonight.”

There was no hiding the shiver that wracked your body at his words. And if there was a chance, it was wiped off the map when Hyunjin tapped onto your G-spot, ripping a shriek out of you.

“Shit!”

The chuckle you heard was dripping with nearly sadistic amusement at your predicament.

“There you go, making a mess again.”

Your face burned with unbearable heat as he pointed out the obvious, feeling your arousal dribbling out every time he stroked the soft area or thrusted into it. It was difficult to get like this with any of your previous partners, but the man between your legs had you in such a state without even breaking a sweat.

To make matters worse, Hyunjin went back to stimulating your clit with his mouth. You could hear the clinking of the chains as you pulled your wrists forward, barely making any distance. He had made it so you couldn’t move as he ruined you to bits; all you could do was squirm on the chair and express yourself through expletives and moans.

It didn’t take long for your body to sink into the rhythm he was creating, fighting less and less against the pleasure. You had even bucked your hips a few times, receiving chuckling and teasing from the other.

But then you realized at a certain point that you were getting too relaxed.

For a string deep in your belly began forming into a knot and pulling tight.

Fuck. Not good.

“Y/N.”

The rigidity surrounding your name made you freeze before Hyunjin continued, “You better not be doing what I think you’re about to do.”

“I-I’m not, sir—”

The way your voice shook and you tugged at your bindings betrayed your words. Denying the sensation only seemed to exacerbate it, the mass growing further and further the more his fingers slid in and out of your pussy.

“Doesn’t feel like it. Remember what I said?”

“Y-Yes.”

A sharp pinch to your inner thigh made you whimper.

“Say it.”

“Don’t c-come unless you say so. I promise I won’t, sir.”

A rub on that same spot was followed by, “Good.”

But he didn’t ease up. Instead, he continued his motions and challenged your resistance to breaking one of his rules. You were trying to give the facade that you were under control, but your body kept twisting and whimpers poured from your agape mouth.

It was so tempting to just give up and say your safe word, but fuck that.

You were on a mission tonight and you weren’t raised to be a quitter.

The sting of nails digging into your palms felt minor compared to the ache between your legs.

Fight it. Fight it. Fight it.

The sensation remained stagnant before finally beginning to fade into slight discomfort. Although your body protested, your mind was satiated by the praise you heard next.

“Good girl. I love when you listen to me.”

You hummed in appreciation at Hyunjin’s words and the hand gently rubbing your hip now.

“Th-Thank you, sir.”

The welcoming warmth of his palm lulled you into somewhat of a relaxed state that made you aware of the current position you were in. The hardness of the chair was starting to make your bottom sore and your hands and feet were starting to get a bit tingly now. Your lips turned downwards as you tried but failed to regain your discomfort.

“Sir?”

“Yes?”

“Easy.”

His touch paused, the heat stagnant on your skin.

“Are you uncomfortable?”

“A little.”

You heard Hyunjin hum before responding, “Should we move this to the bed, darling?”

Just the thought of laying on the soft duvet had your tone brightening as you gave your approval. The hand left your hip before landing above your head to work on loosening you from the furniture.

Feeling the leather unwrap from your wrists and ankles was a mild relief, flexing your toes and fingers for a moment before you felt your hips being grabbed and pulled downwards. Your legs came together quick enough to help you stand, although they had little strength once your feet touched the ground. Your sense of balance was affected from the prolonged position and you stumbled forward.

If it wasn’t for the hands that swiftly supported your waist, you would have ended up face first with the carpet.

“Be careful.”

Anyone unfamiliar with Hyunjin would have missed the minor softening of his tone, the immersion breaking for a moment to make sure you were able to continue. You took this opportunity to rest your forehead against what felt like his shoulder and regain your bearings. The sensation of fabric against your skin and the scent of his cologne entering your nostrils contributed to being aware of your surroundings once again.

After taking a few deep breaths, you straightened up, hoping that you were looking somewhere at Hyunjin’s face.

“Y/N, how are you feeling?”

A loaded question, really.

You were feeling like a mess in the best way possible, yet the sharp pang between your thighs was torturous. Every throb reminded you of what he had been putting you through for the last…

How long had it even been since you stepped in this room?

“I’m…soft.”

Hyunjin clued in on the word, a hum leaving him in response.

“I see. Do you think we should move this somewhere a little more comfortable?”

The invitation was more than welcoming to you. As much fun as you were having in the chair, nothing could beat the plushness of a bed. Especially his bed.

“I’d like that, sir.”

A rub of your waist made a thrill run down your spine, followed by his hands coming up behind your head.

“Should we take this off or leave it on?”

You didn’t want to risk nearly taking a spill again, so you chose the former, remaining still as Hyunjin undid the knot of your blindfold. As soon as the fabric was lifted off, you made the mistake of quickly opening your eyes, wincing as the dim light attacked them. The man in front of you chuckled in amusement, appearing as a blurry shape to you.

“I turned the lights down for a reason, darling.”

“Thank you…”

It took a minute to adjust, but you were able to finally see the other in full form, taking in his appearance.

Aside from a bead of sweat at his hairline, he looked nonplussed. Like he hadn’t been working you up with his own two hands.

Someone who was impeccable at his job.

“Come on.”

Hyunjin’s expression cooled, a hand sliding down to grip the back of your neck.

“Break time is over.”

The pang between your thighs returned in full force at the tone of his voice and touch, your head bobbing in agreement. He took a hold of your shoulders before turning you around, the king-sized bed in your view as he guided you to walk forward. Just as your legs were about to hit the foot of it, Hyunjin stopped you, leaning down to croon into your ear, “How do you want it?”

It wasn’t easy to answer immediately. The cautious part of you said to get in a position that wouldn’t break you down further, but the adventurous side wanted to go all out. You pondered for as long as you could, not feeling any sort of impatience from the man behind you.

But finally—

“Can I show you?”

Your question was answered with a hum, feeling his hands remove themselves. Once you were free, you stepped forward to climb onto the bed, stopping in the middle on your hands and knees. You lowered the side of your head to rest on the plush comforter, bringing your arms behind you to cross your wrists on the small of your back.

“Like this, sir.”

You heard Hyunjin make a sound of interest before footsteps echoed, stopping once his body was in your sight.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” Your gaze connected with his. “And bind me again, please.”

Hyunjin quirked a brow, somewhat intrigued by your request. Studying your expression to find any hesitation, he gave his own approval once it was clear that there was none.

“Alright. Lift your head up for a second.”

You were a bit confused, but obliged, watching his arm go out of view to grab something above your head. It was clear what he went for when he slid the object under your temple before motioning you to lower it, the coolness and comfort of the silk pillowcase providing some relief.

“So you don’t walk out of here with a sore neck.”

A smile couldn’t help but form, looking up at him as you gave your thanks. The tiniest lift of his mouth occurred but disappeared swiftly, leaving your sight as he walked off to grab whatever was needed for this next phase.

You were hopeful that whatever would enter you next wasn’t his fingers or another toy. At this point, you needed something more substantial. And knowing how thorough Hyunjin could be with what he hid in his slacks had your veins thrumming with electricity.

But alas. You blanked out for a moment and forgot that it wasn’t going to be the usual song and dance tonight, per your request.

For after you felt him locking the familiar leather cuffs around your wrists, his fingertips trailed down your body until they stroked against your dripping folds.

“Have you gotten even wetter, darling?”

You swallowed down a whimper when he tapped your throbbing clit, replying, “Maybe…”

A short laugh and a pinch to your bottom was what you got in return.

“Why am I not surprised? I bet you’re hoping that I’ll fuck you now, hm?”

Even if your body remained still as a board, surely he saw the way you reacted between your legs.

“Yes sir.”

A light swat on your ass had your breath hitching.

“Yes sir, what?”

Oh. Here we go.

You had to wet your dry lips before speaking lowly, “Yes sir, I’m hoping you’ll fuck me.”

Hyunjin didn’t seem to be entirely convinced as he delivered another smack, earning a short but sharp sound from you.

“It doesn’t sound like it, Y/N. You seemed more desperate when I had that piece of plastic inside you.”

Now you could feel his fingertip parting your folds before it slowly opened your entrance, sinking in ever so slightly, not even close to stroking that sweet spot.

“Even when my finger was in, you sounded needy. I think you were satisfied with just those, no?”

He probably wanted you to convince him. Really convince him.

Time to reach into your depths and pull out the performance of your life.

“No, sir. They’re not enough.”

You dared to push your hips back, forcing the digit in deeper.

“I need your cock instead. Need it to fuck me dumb.”

A noise of intrigue came from behind you, but you continued before he could say anything.

“I really need this, sir. Want you to stretch my pussy out some more—”

You moved back further, breath hitching when your spot was nearly touched.

“Please fuck me now.”

Nothing but your own heartbeat was heard, hoping that your little show was enough to prove yourself. After a moment, you felt the finger inside you take its sweet time sliding out, hips following in vain. A hard slap was given on your ass, followed by a deep chuckle.

“That was impressive, darling. I’ve never heard you sound so needy before.”

As much as you wanted to bury your heated face into the bed, you remained steady. “I’ll do what I have to to convince you, sir.”

“I see—”

The noise of his belt coming undone made your ears perk up.

“Then I should give the little slut what she’s been asking for, right?”

It was so hard to hide your triumphant grin, but you managed to dim it down into the tiniest of smiles.

“Thank you, sir.”

A pat to your bottom was Hyunjin’s appreciation of your manners. It felt like ages before you felt him get on the bed to kneel behind your bent form. But when something thicker than a finger and warmer than a vibrator rested between your ass cheeks, elation began blossoming in your chest. It was hard to resist when you decided to wiggle, biting back a giggle at the slightest intake of breath from him.

It was a temporary victory as Hyunjin’s hands took a firm hold of your hips, keeping you in place now.

“Cheeky.”

You weren’t surprised at the pinch you received, taking it in stride. This was what you were waiting for all night. Hell, all day. You didn’t have to hope that he would, to put it simply, fuck the ever-loving shit out of you.

The man knew how to do his job thoroughly.

“Ready?”

You nodded, shifting your body a bit to prepare for what was to come.

“Yes, sir.”

With those two words, you could feel Hyunjin grab himself, readjusting to have his tip pressing lower down now. Your toes curled instinctively when you felt the blunt head of his cock parting your folds before he began penetrating. You forgot how to breathe for a moment at the intrusion, nails digging into your palms. But he was giving you what you asked for and that’s all you could want.

Until—

Oh fuck.

You were more sensitive than you realized, feeling the familiar tingle in your fingers and toes start as he sunk further in. You tried to stave off the sensations, but with each inch, you felt your self control withering away and collecting into a ball of tension in your lower stomach. Your walls began trembling before starting to clench around him in preparation for—

“Y/N.”

The sharpness of your name forced you to pay attention, especially when Hyunjin followed with, “Don’t.”

Damn. Your body was a rebel, trying to fight against his command, pussy still throbbing incessantly. You had to get it under control now. Who knew what he’d have in store if you disobeyed?

“I-I’m trying, sir…”

You were forced to shut your eyes as you tried your damnedest to regain control, from counting backwards to picturing a calm ocean. After a few countdowns, you managed to refocus, avoiding the inevitable orgasm. Even though your cunt was screaming at you to give in to the sweet release, you felt a sense of satisfaction at being able to hold back.

Hyunjin seemed to be impressed also, giving a gentle rub to your sore ass cheek before cooing, “Such a good girl.”

You exhaled sharply, only to suck in a breath when you felt him begin to move. The thrusts were slow and long, forcing you to soak in every bit of his dick. He had a way of rolling his hips that not many men had in them, rendering you weak within a couple of minutes. Now was not an exception, soft moans starting to leave your parted lips with increasing frequency.

“This is what you wanted, right?”

“Mnh— Yes, sir. Feels good—”

Funny how nonplussed Hyunjin sounded compared to you, already getting lost in the pleasure.

“Good. I better keep hearing you sound like this.”

“Of course— Ah!”

A deeper than expected thrust ripped a cry from your throat. Your fingers curled and dug into your palms as you tried to keep it together. As badly as you wanted to release, you were determined to stick to your challenge tonight.

Even though the man behind you was making it insanely difficult.

He wouldn’t stick with the same, old rhythm. If Hyunjin wasn’t switching his strokes up, he was grunting or husking out words that made heat spread throughout every part of your body.

Good.

You wanted to forget about whatever happened prior to you stepping in this building and he was doing his absolute best to see your wish through.

Time was a foreign concept while you were being fucked. Especially when you were doing your best to not come before you were given the go ahead. But like a splash of cold water, you suddenly felt Hyunjin completely bury himself, skin flush against yours.

A yelp left you at the change, ready to call out his name until you heard something gruff and velvety ring out behind you.

“Come.”

Was it the way his word was delivered with pure authority? Was it because he was buried deep inside your cunt, flush with your bottom? Or was it how tight he gripped your hips, fingers digging hard enough to feel the dullness of his nails?

Either way, it hit you like a freight train.

If anyone had been walking close in the hallway, surely they heard the way you screamed out.

Spots filled your vision, every bit of your body shaking at the long-awaited release. The only thing keeping you from completely sinking into the bed were Hyunjin’s hands.

“Yes, that’s it, darling.”

How you managed to hear his praise during your prolonged orgasm was a miracle. Eventually, the sensations faded and you were of sound mind again.

The dom must have noticed as you could feel him beginning to thrust into you again, bringing a feeling of strong overstimulation to you. You bit back a whimper, your pussy trembling in a mix of pleasure and discomfort. You tried to subtly shift away from him, but to no avail.

A pressure on the chain linking your bound hands was quickly followed by a commanding, “Don’t fucking run—“

A sudden jerk of your cuffs forced your body to straighten, your bound hands now trapped between your back and Hyunjin’s torso.

“You wanted to come so badly, I’m giving it to you.”

There was little space for you to protest at all, a hand coming up to wrap around your neck and an arm wrapping around your waist to keep you in place. As soon as a light pressure made your breathing hitch, Hyunjin began pounding into you, harder than ever.

If it wasn’t for his fingers, you would have shrieked.

The sensitivity from before still lingered, bringing a mix of pain and bliss that was unlike what you had experienced with him before. But you never spoke any of your safe words.

You just let the other keep pushing you over the edge repeatedly, to the point where you practically forgot your own name. Your entire body and brain were entering into a fog that could only focus on the cock driving in and out of you and the debauchery being rasped into your ear.

“Fuck, that’s it! Coming endlessly like a needy slut.”

“This pussy of yours just keeps squeezing me over and over—”

“Such a good girl for me, mnh—!”

Just when you were on the verge of asking him to slow down, you felt Hyunjin completely bury himself before remaining still behind you. The gritted swearing and strong twitching of his cock against your hypersensitive walls clued you in to what was happening, a mix of relief tinted with satisfaction washing over you.

As the two of you caught your breath, exhaustion started sinking its claws into you. Your eyelids became heavy, threatening to close when he released your neck and waist to gently lay you on your front. Landing on the duvet only made the sensation worse, leaving you limp as a noodle.

If you had been by yourself in this room, there would’ve been no way to get out. Thank God for Hyunjin being here to look out for you.

You could feel him undoing your cuffs before he carefully rolled you onto your side, guiding you into a fetal position that was much needed.

“How are you feeling?”

Spent. Satisfied. Ready for a nap.

But all you could muster was a weak grunt.

Hearing Hyunjin hum, you felt a warm hand lay between your shoulder blades and begin to rub.

“Would you like something to eat and drink? It’ll help get your energy back.”

At least you could manage a nod, lids fluttering.

The hand was removed as he went to grab whatever he had stored away for moments like this, leaving you to try your best to not fall asleep right there. Luckily, Hyunjin returned swiftly, soft voice sounding again. “Darling, I’m going to sit you up, okay?”

You managed to croak a feeble response, allowing him to guide you to sit up against the pillows. You saw spots for a moment, leaning your head back to try and blink them away.

“Here.”

You looked down to see the lip of a water bottle in front of your face. With Hyunjin’s help, you managed to latch on and drink. Once you got a satisfying amount down, he handed you a small pack of saltines, already opened.

“Is this fine or would you like something else?”

The tiniest of smiles came over as you took the package.

“This is perfect. Thank you.”

Hyunjin reflected your expression, waiting until you ate one of the crackers before reaching for your free arm. As soon as his lithe fingers began working into your stiff muscles, you sighed in contentment.

“Your arms must be killing you right now.”

“Mm, I’ve had worse being in the gym.”

The dom chuckled at your light quip, glad to see that you were coming back down easily.

“I’ll still give you an Aleve before you head out, your tune might change in the morning.”

Even though your eyes rolled, you were appreciative of his thinking ahead. One of the reasons you always came back.

“Thank you.”

While you were snacking away, Hyunjin continued massaging all of your limbs, chasing away the aches and tingles with little effort. As soon as you finished eating and chugged your last bit of water, he was quick to offer you more, but you declined.

If you filled your stomach any more, you definitely would have curled up in your spot and taken a nap. You didn’t want to go over your time limit and interfere with his next client.

Once you had your bearings about you, you let Hyunjin know that you were ready to leave. He looked you over once more to make sure you were able to head home safely before helping you into the adjoining bathroom to freshen up. You cleaned up as best as you could and redressed, not caring that the wrinkles in your pantsuit worsened by now.

Your companion for the night took your hand and led you out and back down the hallway, your mood a 180 from a couple of hours ago. Stress didn’t run through your veins anymore, replaced with a lightness that could only come from a place like this.

“So how long will it be until I see your face again?”

A shrug greeted Hyunjin’s question.

“Hopefully not as long. I’ve still got some PTO left that I can use, so who knows?”

“Hm, we shall see.”

The two of you reached the entrance to the waiting room, the other stopping to turn and face you head-on.

“So this is goodbye, for now.”

You nodded and replied, “It is. Thank you again, Hyunjin. You don’t know how much I needed this tonight—” your teeth flashed, “—it’s like an entire weight off my shoulders.”

Hyunjin smiled politely, taking your free hand as well to give both of them a careful squeeze.

“As always, it’s my pleasure. You did great, Y/N.”

The praise brought a flutter to your chest and a warmth to your face. He was never shy with compliments. Although you had to wonder if his clients ever returned the favor on the regular…

Time to take a chance.

“So did you, Hyunjin.”

The way his eyes scrunched and teeth flashed, paired with his cheeks turning pink, let you know that you made the right decision.

“Thank you, darling.”

With a kiss to your hands and a good night, he sent you off on your way. You had a bounce in your step as you headed past the receptionist desk, Felix in the middle of a conversation with a young woman.

“I can guarantee you’ll have a good time with him, he’s one of our best here. Oh, Y/N!”

The call of your name made you pause, acknowledging the blond.

“How was it?”

Your grin expressed everything and more as you answered, “More than I needed and wanted.”

Felix beamed, pleased with your feedback. “Excellent! I actually have this wonderful young lady here asking about Hyunjin—” he jerked his head towards her, “—maybe you can give her your two cents?”

Said woman looked at you now, her lips curving with kindness and modesty.

“Hello. You’re familiar with Hyunjin?”

“Very. He’s my go-to guy whenever I visit. I’ve never had the urge to choose anyone else.”

Her eyes widened, curiosity covering her face now.

“Wow, really? That’s quite the preference.”

Watching the way she reacted reminded you of your first time here; on edge and unsure what exactly you wanted from one of the doms. If it wasn’t for the extensive patience Hyunjin showed you that first night, you never would have stepped foot in here again, let alone multiple times.

She had nothing to worry about.

“Mhm. Honestly, from one woman to another, I say go with him. Trust me—” you gave her as much of a reassuring smile as you could muster, “—you’ll be in good hands.”

©bangtanintotheroom, 2024. Do not repost to other sites or copy without permission.

#hwang hyunjin #hwang hyunjin fanfic #hwang hyunjin fic #hwang hyunjin smut #hyunjin fanfic #hyunjin fic #hyunjin smut #stray kids #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fic #stray kids smut #skz #skz fanfic #skz fic #skz smut #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x y/n #hyunjin x you #fill the void

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4izawas · 4 months

Note

Could write a aizawa fic with a hybrid!reader? Like the shounya fics you wrote? I love those ones!

𝐈 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐁𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 (𝐂𝐀𝐓)𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋! | 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮-𝐧𝐲𝐚.

𝐂𝐖 ‼️ | hybrids, hybrid au, no quirks, catgirl reader, fem reader, shou-nya uno reverse ( ur the kitty now besties ! ), misunderstandings, aizawa is a big dumb dumb n didn’t research *all* cat hybrid behaviors so u get a lil pissy ngl, night shift security guard aizawa, rut cycles/in heat, creampies, biting, breeding kink, daddy & master kinks, use of ‘kitty’ as a pet name.

“This’ll be your room,” Shouta grunts, opening the door to the guest bedroom in his apartment. “Used to be the guest, but you’re here to stay, so it’s all yours now. Decorate it however, I don’t really care.”

You blink owlishly into the dark room he’s offered you. It isn’t bad or small, it’s rather nice actually, but you were confused. Turning to look up at him, your bottom lip trembles a little as you ask, “B-But — I just got here, what did I do?”

“Huh?!” The noise he makes is filled with blatant confusion, but you don’t even register it as you clutch at your tail, upset.

“What did I do wrong?” You ask again, eyes starting to water a little, and your new master starts looking a little uncomfortable; he never knew what to do when people cried.

“Nothing!” he exclaims, starting to panic just a little. Why were you having such a visceral reaction to getting your own room?!

“Then why am I being punished?” you whine, eyes shimmering with tears, and he shakes his head and hands placatingly.

“What?! You aren’t!”

“But I’m — I’m supposed to s-sleep with you!” You hiccup, and Shouta can honestly say he doesn't know what to do. You’ve been in his apartment for less than half an hour and he’s already made you cry. How the fuck was he supposed to know hybrids slept with their owners? He’d never owned one before! Besides, aren't cats supposed to want their own space? That was the entire reason he allowed Hizashi and Nemuri to talk him into adopting a cat hybrid, eventually choosing a catgirl over a catboy after Nemuri showed him a picture of you cuddling your tail while sleeping that the hybrid shelter you’d come from had posted.

“It’s not a punishment,” he says patiently, “I just want you to be able to have your own space.”

“But I won’t take up much room, I promise,” you say quietly, refusing to look at him. “I can be good — you won’t even know I’m there.”

Shouta sighs, then shakes his head. “No, you need your own room. I don’t want to share mine with you.” He knows he’s said the wrong thing when he sees your body stiffen, your fur puff up, and your ears flick back to pin themselves against your head, but what was wrong about it he doesn’t know. He reaches out a hand slowly, but you dodge it with an angry-sounding inhuman noise, and it startles him.

“If you didn’t want me, why adopt me?” you ask coldly, shocking him, before stalking into your room and locking the door behind you. For the rest of the night until time for his patrol hits he tries to coax you out, but you refuse dinner and snacks and cuddles ( all the things that Nemuri and Hizashi had said could tempt you out when he’d texted them in a panic ), holing yourself up in your room and sticking it out until he’s forced to leave for his security job from midnight to five. When he gets back he finds an empty tin of cat hybrid-specific food in the trash, one of the dozen and a half tins that the shelter had sent him home with that he’d turned up his nose at and promptly decided to feed you real food instead of, alongside a freshly washed bowl and spoon drying on the counter rack. The plate he’d made for you is untouched on the counter, and likewise with the bag of cookies he’d tried to get you to come out with, and he groans.

If it wasn’t obvious you were pissed with him before, it definitely was now.

“C’mon, please come out,” Shouta groans a week later. Seven days have passed, and he’s not even caught a glimpse of you since that first day, and he’s starting to worry. He knows you’re still in there, he’s heard you moving stuff around, and he knows you come out every now and then to snatch stuff because so many blankets are missing that it isn’t even funny anymore, but he doesn’t know what to do. Obviously he isn’t going to force his way inside your room, considering that would defeat the entire purpose of giving you your own space, but the nerves were starting to get to him.

Honestly he might have sent an SOS to Nemuri had he not come home from his night shift later that night and found you lounging on the couch in front of the TV while some random true crime show played, your tail flicking back and forth idly as the narrator recounts a particularly grisly murder case.

It’s a welcome surprise, seeing you out of your room, and he’s relieved — then startled when he goes to gently scratch one of your ears and you hiss at him, climbing onto the back of the far end of the couch and draping yourself there while giving him a warning look. He just blinks, shocked, before dropping the hand he’d still had raised, and retreats to the kitchen for a late snack. While he’s there he shoots off a text in the group chat telling Hizashi and Nemuri that you came out as well as what had happened, and when Nemuri jokes that you must really not like him now he groans quietly, because wasn’t she right?

The next few days are the same, with him coming home to you lazing around the house and acting growly whenever he gets too close or brushes against you by accident. You’re at least eating more, though, considering he comes home nightly to find the meals he’s made you gone entirely without even leftovers remaining. Maybe a different man would be angry, but Shouta was just happy you were eating what he was making and that everything was falling into a lax routine that he could understand; like he’d thought before, cat hybrids weren’t unlike cats, so of course you’d get pissy now and then — it’s how cats are.

And then he comes home, and you aren’t somewhere in the living room. His heart plummets as he worries that he’s somehow managed to fuck up again, but then a pained-sounding yowl reaches his ears and he rushes to your room in a panic. He’d not locked the door that night, overtired from a rough night’s sleep ( or lack thereof, really ) and if someone had broken in due to his stupidity and was hurting you —!

Throwing your door open with a call of your name on the tip of his tongue, he’s greeted by the sight of your slick, swollen pussy pointing directly at the door as you arch your back while on all fours and reach a hand under and between your legs to finger yourself, distressed mewls falling from your lips as they do nothing to satisfy you, and suddenly everything clicks into place for Shouta. You were in heat — meaning the week before you were in preheat, and therefore excessively hormonal. It would only be expected for your patience to fluctuate like the temperature just between summer and autumn.

Stupid, stupid! He thinks, moving to back out of your room, but it’s too late since you’ve caught sight of him. A demanding screech falls from your mouth and he freezes, locking eyes with you as you pant open-mouthed before you whine, “M-Master, help me~!”

Unwittingly he feels his cock twitch in his uniform pants and his mouth fills with saliva. He can’t smell what could only be a desperately cloying heat scent to catboys, but the sight of his new ‘pet’ shaking her pussy at him was enough to spur him into stalking into the room carefully, slowly but surely peeling off his security uniform and freeing his more than half-hard cock from his underwear. He never tears his eyes from where you sway your ass back and forth on the bed in front of him, whining and calling for Master all the while.

“‘M so hot, Master, please make it go away!” you moan while looking back at him over your shoulder with tear-filled eyes. Your watery gaze is what really gets him even closer, and when he places his hands on your bare hips he can feel how hot to the touch your skin is; it’s almost alarming, but you’re distracting him by rubbing your bare cunt against his crotch. “Wan’ it in me — fill me up, Master, I’ve been a good girl!”

“Have you?” he growls, gripping you by the hips tightly and yanking you back at the same time he rolls his hips into you, grinding your burning hot pussy against his cock and drawing a lewd meow from your lips. “Been bitchy all week, growling and hissing and swiping at me…”

“Sorry! I’m sorry!” you whine, sniffling. “Please fuck me, Master!”

Shouta fists his hand around the base of your tail and tugs you up by it, pulling a yowl from you, while taking his cock by the base with his other hand and proceeding to rub it against your sopping wet cunt. His sensitive tip skips across your wanting entrance and rolls across your swollen clit, and he continues rutting his hips against you this way so he can coat his cock with a good amount of your slick before stuffing you full — but you’re impatient, and you want him now.

“In me!” you demand, hiccuping out a tiny growl between your moaned sobs. “Put it in me!”

His hand, wet with your slick, darts forward at lighting speed and grips you by the chin in a borderline bruising grip as he turns you to face him. “You’ll get what I’ll give you when I give it to you,” he snarls, and a new gush of wetness coats his cock at his tone.

“You’re s-so mean!” you wail, then shriek as his hand comes down across your bare ass in a brutal spank that leaves it stinging.

“Don’t be a bad girl, kitty,” he croons mockingly, pressing a kiss to your jaw, and you tremble; the scratch of the stubble on his face got you even wetter. “You want Daddy to fuck you, don’t you?”

You just whimper and mewl, arching your back in what you hope is an obvious invitation, and thankfully Shouta can read desperate whores better than freshly adopted hybrids, because he knows that’s his cue to press inside, which he does. You let out a sharp, drawn out cry as he fills you up all at once, and he lets out a deep groan as your almost unbearably burning hot cunt wraps around him perfectly; he can hardly keep himself from starting to fuck you right away, but he manages to hold off until you start begging for him to move, which only takes a couple seconds.

“M-Move, move-! Please!” you wail, pushing back against him to bury his cock as deep inside as it would go. “Fuck me!” Shouta doesn’t have to be told twice and immediately sets a brutal, unforgiving pace, his heavy balls slapping against you wetly with each rough thrust. His grip is bruising, and heavy moans escape through his gritted teeth.

“Fuck, that’s good,” he grunts, releasing one of your hips to press it flat against the wall, stabilizing himself as practically tears you apart.

“O-Oh! Oh, fuck — f-fuck, Daddy, you’re mixing up my i-insides!” you wail, claws digging into the bedding as you cry out for him. Mid-thrust his hand slips and his entire front plasters itself to your back, the arm that had slipped curling beneath your neck while the other wraps around your middle and he fucks into you like a man possessed. His moans and growls at your ear make your body tingle pleasantly from your fingers to your toes, and you tremble beneath him as you begin to cry from the stimulation.

“That’s a good kitty,” Shouta groans as you scratch at the bed in front of you, “Yeah, cry for Daddy—!”

“D-Daddy!” you hiccup through a wail, tears rolling down your cheeks as what of your tail that wasn’t pinned between your bodies lashes back and forth violently. “Bite, bite, bite!” you beg, tilting your head to the side to bare where the soft column of your throat met with your collarbone and shoulder; your jaw presses against his thick bicep, and other than his hands on your body and his cock in your cunt that’s the only thing grounding you right now. “Bite!”

He doesn’t argue, biting down as he fucks into you and earning himself a high-pitched scream from you that he knows the neighbors heard; all he can do is mentally cross his fingers that they realize the context without being expressly told because he sure as fuck wasn’t going to pull out of your oerfect fucking cunt just to answer a noise complaint notice.

“P-Please, Daddy!” you gasp, drool rolling down your chin. “Please, cum in me! Breed me! Fill me up, claim me on the inside too!”

Shouta lets out a shaky moan around his mouthful of your collarbone. God, you’re filthy.

It doesn’t take much more time before you’re yowling again, and he isn’t sure why until he feels your cunt rhythmically spasming around his aching cock. His eyes roll back a little at the feeling, which is all it takes for him to start cumming with you. You can feel a pleasant warmth that you know is him start to fill your lower belly, and you let out another cry as you arch your back more as far as it’ll go while he keeps fucking you through both of your orgasms, all former coherency leaving you both as gibberish moans flm from your lips. It’s only once he stops cummung that he begins to ease to a stop before finally pulling out and rolling over to lay on his back, breathing hard. You immediately begin pressing the cum that was dripping from your cunt back inside, repeating the action a handful of times before licking your fingers clean and kissing him.

The two of you kiss for a bit before you pull away to lay down for a second to rest between the heat waves, and during this rest he finally speaks again. “How long do — how long do your heats usually last, kitty?” Shouta asks through deep breaths, his heart pounding. You purr and curl up close to him, tail curling back and forth.

“‘Least a week more,” you answer honestly, and he groans as one of your hands reaches down and starts stroking his cock back to full hardness. “So hurry up ‘nd fuck me again, Daddy — I can’t cum without you being mean to me.”

#shou_nya.♡#shouta aizawa x reader #aizawa shouta x reader #shouta aizawa x you #aizawa shouta x you #my hero academia x reader #my hero academia x you #mha x reader #mha x you #quick disclaimer but this is prob the only time i’ll do a lil flippy flip on the shou-nya universe since it’s *catzawa* not cat reader #but hey i had fun so dhcbrhc hgf

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mediumgayitalian · 1 month

Text

———

For some reason the lack of a little jingling bell throws her off.

It’s a quintessential diner thing, she supposes. A little bell above the door. There’s the weird decor and the pressed cotton uniforms and the yelling chef and the little bell. It was in both Back to the Future one and two. That’s how she knows she’s right.

But when she pushes open the door with windows so caked with grime she can hardly see through them, there is no little jingle. And when she looks up at the door frame, eyebrows furrowed, it seems sad and lonely. She’s never been so aware of the lack of a sound, the absence of a noise. It makes the rest of the silence of the diner seem eerie, wrong. Dead.

She takes a hesitant step forward, door swinging shut behind her. She realizes as she approaches the ordering counter that her hand rests palm cupped on her belly, and removes it immediately.

“Hello?”

There are a couple groups of people in the back, talking quietly over their food. It doesn’t make the diner seem any less abandoned, somehow. If anything it feels like a TV playing on mute in a hospital. Saturated static.

“Seat yourself, girl. You ain’t never been to a diner before?”

The woman that speaks is tall and plump and harsh-looking. A very strange mixing of features. They’re at odd with the diner-specific yellow uniform she wears, collar pressed but skirt wrinkled. Apron dusted with flour and streaked with machine oil. Face pinched, eyes hard, black hair resting in dainty ringlets along her shoulders. Her name tag only reads the name of the business.

“A couple,” Naomi defends. “One even had a hostess.”

The woman — who must be a manager — raises an eyebrow.

“You see a hostess’ station?”

“No.”

“Then why haven’t you sat yourself?”

“‘Cause I’m not here to eat.”

“Well, then, get the hell out of my restaurant.”

Naomi holds her gaze, tilting up her chin. She will not be swayed by orneriness. “I need a job.”

The manager eyes her critically. Naomi’s hands twitch, and the top of her head feels suddenly itchy. Summer before highschool she’d wrote her first resume — Mama’d drawn her a bath and sat behind her and spent two hours slowly untangling the ratty mess of curls on her head with nothing but a bottle of cheap jasmine conditioner and her own two fingers, telling her about lasting first impressions.

“Go home, kid.”

“I’m not a fu —” She stumbles over her words at the last second, catching herself before that eyebrow can climb any higher. It does, and the other eyebrow begins to climb with it, but she rights herself and powers on. “I can vote,” she says finally. “I can throw on a uniform and get blown up across seas. I can — I can adopt a child, if I so choose. Right now.”

The eyebrows reach critical height, brushing the end of her carefully teased hairline. Naomi watches them and their inspiring journey with intensity, instead of noticing how the manager’s eyes drop down to her stomach, linger, and then return to her face.

“You gonna adopt it right outta your womb, or what?”

Naomi snaps her mouth shut.

“Well,” she says, and nothing else.

The manager sighs. “This ain’t a charity.”

Naomi barely manages to bite the snark back from her voice before she speaks.“I’m not asking for charity. I’m asking for work.”

Eyes shifting to the tables in the back, the manager leans over the counter, long fingers wrapping around the handle of a coffee pot so old the handle has worn right down to plain metal, and walks over to a beckoning customer. She fills a man’s mug with her lips pressed thin, offering a napkin to a child in a high chair.

“And why would I hire some pregnant kid?”

The customer pushes over a stack of plates without moving his eyes from the newspaper in front of him. There’s a woman on the other side of the table, holding a spoon out to the little kid, eyes desperate and tight smile slipping when the kid’s pudgy fist hits and sends the scoop of scrambled eggs flying. The man brings the coffee to his lips and waves the manager away.

“It’s illegal for an employer to discriminate against a pregnant person,” Naomi says finally. That had been drilled into her head by her Mama, too. That and how to keep her finances separate. She’ll have real trouble with that, what with the zero dollars she’ll have by the end of the week.

“Good thing I’m not your employer, then.” The manager sets the plates by a soapy sink, putting the coffee pot back on the hot plate. “Get lost.”

I am lost, Naomi almost says, almost slamming a hand in the counter to catch herself from her suddenly weak knees. She watches the manager watch her, tight little frown furling the corner of her mouth, through the blur of her eyes, swallowing hard around the lump in her throat.

“Please,” she says, too quiet, then tries again: “Please.”

The manager disappears behind a short half-wall, following the sound of an oven dinging. Naomi gasps silently, bowing over the counter, breathing heavily. She curls her hands into fists and presses them, hard, one to her chest and one right under her ribs. Ka-thump, ka-thump, kickkickkick. Kickkick ka-thump, ka-thump, ka-kickthump.

There’s an echoing clatter as a hot tray slams on a stove top. Scrambling upright, Naomi lifts the little door on the counter, scanning the space. The register is ancient and yellowed, buttons so worn with use the labels have worn away. There’s a thread-thin mat at the base of it. The counters are clean but scratched, walls stained but dust-free. The coffeemaker gurgles pathetically. An apron hangs from a hook nailed to the wall by the kitchen window.

As quietly as she can, Naomi slips it over her head. It’s tight around the waist, so she folds it once and ties it around her ribs, instead, letting the straps dangle loosely at the butt of her jeans. She ties her hair quickly behind her head and steps up to the creaky sink, silently moving the pile of dishes to the empty counter. When the clatter in the kitchen starts up again, she turns the water on as quick as she can — hack gurgle rush — and squeezes the mostly empty soap bottle as hard as she can to make up a lather.

“Hell are you doing?” says the manager gruffly, two pies balancing on her oven mitt hands.

Naomi shrugs.

“You deaf, or stupid?”

She thinks if laughter like a lyre and sun golden hair, plucking at her out-of-tune guitar string and asking a similar question. The ghost of a smile pulls across her face.

“Not deaf. And that’s rude.”

A pie plate crinkles under the press of a knife, and the scent of candy cherry mixes with slightly-burnt coffee. Makes her think of Grammy’s house, the smell of the jams she spent sixty years making soaked permanently in the wooden foundations. The manager finishes plating the pie slices and sliding them under the display glass around the same time Naomi suds up the last dirty mug. She watches her red-painted finger tap, tap, tap on her bicep out of the corner of her eye as she rinses it off.

Unplugging the sink, dirty water gurgling as it drains, she points a hesitant elbow at the dishtowel tucked into the managers pocket. She grabs it, threading it around her fingers, twisting the worn pink tail.

“Freezer broke two days ago.” She picks at a loose thread ‘til it pulls clean from the rest of the fabric, balling it up and sliding it into her pocket. She tugs on the fabric one last time, then tosses it, bundled, into Naomi’s waiting hands. “Tables in the back better have their bill by the time I get back from fixin’ it.”

Naomi hunches over the sopping dishes to hide her smile, listening to the scritch scritch click of the manager’s shoes as she stomps away.

———

Di doesn’t believe in paycheques.

“Great way to get ripped off,” she likes to grumble, slapping a stack of 20s bundled in a stapled piece of notebook paper into Naomi’s hands every Friday. She doesn’t think much of taxes, either, or lawyers, or racecar drivers. Naomi doesn’t quite understand that last one, but she knows better than to ask. As far as she’s concerned she’s still on probation, and probably will be if she works at the diner for another four months. Or the rest of her life.

On one hand, Naomi doesn’t have a bank account, so a cheque would be useless to her anyway. The cash she can use immediately and whenever she needs it. On the other hand, which is currently occupied with sewing back closed the hole she gouged in her backseat for the seventeenth week in a row, she has nowhere exactly to put that money, so it stresses her out.

Maybe she should look into an apartment.

Of course there are no apartment buildings in Sheffield. But she’s pretty sure Iraan is a big enough town to have a couple, as squat as they may be, and it’s only a twenty minute drive. There’s more to do there, too, so maybe she’d actually have a reason to take a day off every week. It’s not like she can buy a damn house with the less-than 3000 dollars she has saved up.

Waddling out of her car, she ducks into the diner. You’d think she’d be used to the lack of bell, now, but she finds that she still anticipates it; finds that her brain still quietly signals to her ears to prep for it. It always sets her off, a little.

“You’re late,” says Di critically, uniform hanging over her arm, foot tap tap-ing on the linoleum floor.

“I don’t have a starting time,” Naomi says lightly. “On account that I am not your employee.“

Di huffs, rolling her eyes. Naomi rolls them right back, snatching the uniform from her arms on the way to the bathroom. She has to wear Di’s, now, because she doesn’t fit into her old one. Di is much taller and broader than her and the stupid thing hangs down to her mid-calf, awkwardly drowning her shoulders, but it’s the only thing wide enough to cover her belly and Di refuses to let Naomi just wear her regular clothes.

(“You’re indecent,” she always says, sneering at her jean shorts, but Naomi has learned to translate you’re indecent but also you can’t have bare legs around hot oil, which she’s come to appreciate. Sure, Di makes her clean the bathroom whether or not she needs to crawl around in her knees to stay balanced, but she doesn’t want her burned to death, at least. That’s something.)

“And your hair’s unwashed,” she adds, as if Naomi had not walked away. She reaches up and adjusts Naomi’s collar, like that is going to do anything to change the fact that she looks like she’s wearing a collapsed tent. “You’re going to drive customers away.”

Naomi doesn’t say, you open before the community centre does, so I can’t shower in the mornings. She does not say, I spent last night trying to change the oil on my car when I couldn’t lie down to reach it. She doesn’t say, I’m too scared to sleep in the community centre parking lot, because my windows aren’t tinted and I don’t know what’ll wake me up.

She says, “The only thing scaring customers away is your busted attitude,” and scurries into the kitchen before Di can order her to clean the friers.

———

Naomi’s favourite part of the diner is the radio.

She can’t believe that Di allows it, what with her general distaste for joy in all of its forms. But it’s balanced on the window sill watching over the oven, antenna extended out the torn screen, dials permanently stuck on an old forgotten country channel. Naomi likes to hum along as she works, frying potatoes or kneading dough, twirling around the kitchen with a mop or a broom. It’s nice even when she’s cramping, even when her feet are sore — she likes hollering along to Dolly Parton when she knows Di is listening, want to move ahead, but the boss won’t seem to let me, likes the way her little parasite goes absolutely buck wild whenever Willie Nelson comes on. She can hear it even when she’s in the dining area, plates balanced all up her arms (and on her belly, too, which is one of the many things she has discovered it’s useful for), humming along to scratching dorks and scritching napkins, working 9 to 5, what a way to make a livin’.

She amuses herself often by making up lives for the various patrons. They’re close enough to the main highway that they get all sorts driftin’ in, from families with bratty kids who upend their food on the floor for Naomi to clean to men in starched suits who never leave a tip. The regulars she’s gotten to know, like the older, stocky, short-haired woman called Bella who smiles softly at her and leaves more than double her bill every breakfast. Or the two young men, college seniors, she thinks, who come in every Saturday afternoon and laugh loudly and talk about strange subjects and rope her into their conversations when there’s no one around and she’s bored.

Other patrons, though, strangers, she speculates. Like there’s a man in the farthest back corner, now, hunched over in the peeling green vinyl seats, scrawling frantically in a tiny notebook. She imagines he’s a private investigator, chasing a lead, about to discover that the woman on a date on the other end of the diner is cheating on her husband of fifteen years.

“Naomi, if you don’t get your ass back to work.”

She throws her hands up. “There’s nothing to do!”

Di observes the half-empty diner, noting the clean tables, neat counters, sparkling kitchen. Each customer sitting satisfied in their table, coffee mugs full, plates still hefty with food.

“Clean the grout.”

Scowling, Naomi stomps to the kitchen, wrenching open the cupboard under the counter and yanking out the Mr. Clean and scrub brush. It’s an ordeal and a half to get on the floor, wincing at the extra weight on her knees, sitting back on her heels with every spray and keeping one hand on her belly while the other scrubs. I Got Stripes by Johnny Cash starts playing through the radio, and she grits out the lyrics with every drag of the brush through the tiles.

“— and then chains, them chains, they’re ‘bout to drag me down —”

A pair of worn black boots come stomping into her line of vision. Naomi finishes scrubbing at a stubborn smear of grease, relishing in how it submits under her power, then rests her weight on her tired hands and tilts her chin up to glare up at her boss.

“I got stripes, stripes around my shoulders,” she sings defiantly, “chains, chains around my feet —”

“I should whip you, you damn drama queen,” Di says darkly, glaring right back. “Had three separate customers come on up to me askin’ me if I’m mistreatin’ ‘that poor young pregnant girl’.”

Naomi smiles triumphantly.

Di scowls, rolling her eyes hard enough to visibly strain her face, and drops some kind of foam pads at her feet. She stomps off without another word, scowling at the radio.

Poking at the pads, Naomi discovers they’re meant to be strapped to her knees. She slips them on, immediately noticing the relief.

For the rest of her shift, she’s an angel.

Di even almost smiles at her.

———

“Naomi, go home.”

“What happened to kid?” Naomi pants, knuckles going white against the counter. She breathes slowly and carefully through her mouth — in, two, three, four, out, two, three, four, in, two — and grits her teeth, staring determinately at the sticky tabletop until the dizziness fades. “I didn’t even know you knew my name.”

“I don’t.” A roughened hand rests on the small of her back, loosening the too-tight apron straps. “You’re sick, kid.”

“I’m fine.”

She tilts forward. Di barely manages to catch her, settling her slowly on the floor without so much as a comment about how heavy she is.

“The diner is empty, Naomi.” The same roughened hand moves up to the back of her neck, untangling the sweaty strands of hair that stick to her skin. Her voice is unusually soft. “You’re nine months pregnant, kiddo. You need to go home. You need to rest —”

“I need to work.”

With great effort, Naomi shoves her away, standing slowly to her feet. The world is still wobbly and bile climbs up her throat, but she pushes forward, hands half-extended beside her. She reaches back for the wet rag, swiping weakly at the table. An onslaught of nausea makes her pause, mouth clamped shut, breathing quick and deep through dry nostrils.

When she speaks again, Di’s voice is hard. “I’m not asking. Get out of my diner. Go home, or you won’t be allowed back. I won’t be accused of killing some dumbass kid who doesn’t know when to quit.”

“I can’t —” she gags, tears springing in her eyes, desperately trying to wrestle back some control of her body — “there’s nowhere, please, Di, let me —”

She slaps a hand to her mouth, heaving. She hasn’t even — she hasn’t eaten all day. The smell of anything makes her want to vomit. The idea of putting anything more in her body makes her want to peel off her skin. She feels — bloated and freakish and ugly; like an unsuspected astronaut on a sieged spaceship.

Like she’s about to burst.

“Oh, for the love of — Naomi, please tell me you are not nine months pregnant and sleeping in your fucking car.”

Naomi says nothing. She squeezes her eyes shut and tries not to think of Mama’s peony-scented perfume.

“Jesus Christ.”

Stomp, click, stomp stomp. Rattling chain, swishing cardboard. Flicking switch. Turning dial, fading music. Stomp, click, stomp stomp.

Two callused hands on her biceps, dragging her upright.

“C’mon, up you get. Where’re your keys?”

A hand digs around in her apron pocket.

“What, d’you fuckin’ run these over or somethin’? The hell’d you fuckin’ do to these things?”

No jingle on the door. A flipped sign.

“No, obviously you can’t — go get in the fuckin’ passenger seat, dumbass. God.”

Di mutters something about stupid kids and stupider adults, for putting up with them. Naomi smiles tiredly. Daddy used to say that all the time, flicking her on the forehead.

“Roll the window down. You need fresh air.”

The slight breeze coming in from the window is helpful, actually. It’s been a disgustingly hot summer, and Naomi has had to sleep with her windows down to avoid suffocating. She wakes up to mosquito bites in places she frankly did not know could be bitten.

“D’you think you’re going into labour?” Di asks quietly, over Dolly’s crooning. Bittersweet memories, that’s all I’m takin’ with me.

Naomi sighs, shaking her head. Already, the nausea has faded into the background. The sweat cools against her skin, and she stops feeling quite so much like she’s going to die.

“No. It’s only been eight months and a little less than two weeks.”

“…You remember the exact date?”

Well, hello, feverish flush. How I’ve missed you so. Will you do me a favour and cook me alive, while you’re here?

“It was a very memorable occasion,” Naomi mumbles, shrinking back into her seat.

“I see.”

Naomi’s never seen Di look quite so amused before. Her whole face softens, and her brown eyes look warm, for once. Naomi would attack her if she had the strength.

Di cruises slowly down Main St, conscientious of the kids ducking in and out of the shops, laughing with their friends. A tween girl looks over at an older boy and whips back over to her friends when he meets her eyes, the whole group of them descending into delighting shrieks. Naomi watches them with a smile and an ache in her chest. She wonders how Molly’s doing. How Esther’s holding up, how Leela is faring. Jen’s at school, now, all the way up in NYC. She hopes they’re well and tries not to hate them for not being here.

Sheffield’s small, and there’s not a street Naomi hasn’t driven down. She spends most of her free time in the community centre pool or the desert around the diner, sure, but she’s been around. When Di turns on Pine St and follows her all the way down, though, she frowns, looking over and asking a wordless question.

Di doesn’t answer. She’s driven them all the way to the other side of town in less than five minutes, pulling into a gravel parking lot and killing the engine.

“C’mon,” she grunts, climbing out of the tiny car and waiting, arms crossed, for Naomi to do the same.

“Sure, sure, let the pregnant woman crawl out of her own seat. Don’t lift a finger or anything.”

Di rolls her eyes.

As soon as Naomi has struggled her way out of the car, which takes her a good four minutes, Di stalks off. In her harried attempt to follow her, Naomi feels like a duck hopped up on an energy drink.

“What kinda money do you have?”

Naomi looks at her strangely. “Uh, what you pay me.”

“Yes, obviously, I meant savings.”

“What you pay me,” Naomi repeats.

Di purses her lips. “Well.”

She does not finish her thought. Instead, she strides down the gravel driveway, heedless of Naomi’s struggle behind her, until she approaches a squat looking building with ‘OFFICE’ printed on the little window.

“She needs a room,” she says to the clerk sitting behind it, gesturing at Naomi.

Naomi looks at her in alarm.

“Di, I can’t —”

“Fifty a night,” responds the man quickly.

“Try again.”

Di’s response is swift and immediate, ignoring Naomi’s tugging hand. She pulls away, resting her hands on her lower back, swivelling her head between Di and the man.

“Rate’s a rate, Di.”

She’s not surprised this man knows Di — everyone knows Di. But the slant to his eyebrows is unfamiliar, the hands clasped easily behind his head. He relaxes back into a leather office chair, heeled boot hiked up to rest in his knee, whistling absentmindedly in the face of Di’s glare.

“Two hundred a week.”

“Not a chance.”

“I’m not asking, Jed.”

The man — Jed — finally starts to look irate, meeting Di’s jaw-set stare with one of his own.

“I’m sorry, I musta missed something. Did you up and buy this place?”

Di doesn’t answer him right away. She never slouches, always standing at her full height, and she’s mighty tall for a woman. For anyone, really. She has a way of planting herself right in front of the sun, no matter where she is. Jed stares up at her, squinting, cast in Di’s shadow everywhere but where he needs to be sheltered.

“You gotta laundry list of shit you done owed me your whole life, Jed.”

Jed just his chin out.

“I don’t owe her shit.”

Blunt fingers wrap around her elbow. “She’s mine.”

“Ain’t how this works, Di.”

“Says who? You?”

For all her intensity, Naomi doesn’t think Di’ll actually fight anyone. If she would, Naomi would’ve gotten her ass kicked months ago.

(She’s mine. Kiddo. You need rest. Roll down the window.)

(…Well.)

Regardless, a flash of fear flits across Jed’s face. He cuts his gaze from Naomi to Di and then back again, pupils shrinking, and then invariably comes to a decision.

“Two fifty,” he snaps, scowling. “Not a penny less, Di.”

Di nods once. “Fine.”

She tightens the hold on Naomi’s elbow, dragging her away from the window. There’s an echoing bang, bang, bang, interspersed with muffled curses, before Jed stumbles out of a door on the side of the scaffolding. He stomps away without looking back, and Di tugs her along to follow.

“Laundry is your own problem. Clean your own shit. If you miss a payment, I’m kicking you out. Clear?”

Naomi stares. Jed standing in front of another low, old building, but this one is much longer, a door posited every dozen or so feet. A plastic chair sits in front of every door, and every door is numbered.

A motel, Naomi realises.

“Clear, kid?”

“Crystal,” Naomi manages, throat dry. Jed practically throws the key at her head, stomping back to the office. Numbly, Naomi slides it in the lock, pushing open the door.

The room isn’t big. There’s a double bed in the middle, a window in the far side and a dresser under it. A TV rests in a dugout shelf in the wall, and there’re two small doors next to it; a closet and a bathroom, Naomi assumes. Smaller than her bedroom back home.

Much, much bigger than her car.

“You’re gonna have to work another ten hours a week to afford this place,” Di says critically. When Naomi looks back at her, she’s lingering at the doorway, staring resolutely at Naomi’s face. Not a spare glance for the room itself.

Naomi does the math fast in her head.

“Twenty hours.”

Di scowls. “Don’t insult me, kid. Ten more hours a week; make sure you’re early tomorrow. I don’t give a shit if you’re sick again, either.”

Naomi swallows. She smooths a hand over the quilt tucked neatly over the bed — it’s soft, if not warm. The pillow is plump.

God, she’s missed pillows.

“Thank you, Di,” she says quietly.

Di makes a small twitching motion with her head that may, in some lighting, be considered a nod, then stalks off. Naomi sinks into the mattress; surprised at how much her feet aches now that she’s off of them.

She swings them up, kicking off her boots, to rest on top of the blanket. She leans against the rickety headboard. She rests her hand on her swollen stomach and slowly, silently, begins to cry.

“You and me and sheer fuckin’ will, kid,” she mumbles, face crumpling. The constant ache in the small of her back lifts, slightly. She stretches her toes as far as they’ll go and cries harder. “We’re gettin’ there. We’re gettin’ there. We’re gettin’ there.”

———

naomi art

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being-addie · 1 year

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Online aesthetics and the effects of social media trends

Let's talk about this.

How it can affect young teenagers

Open Tiktok or Instagram and everything on my For You Page now shows "How to achieve a Clean Girl Aesthetic"', "Old Money Aesthetic Hairstyles", "Cottagecore Hobbies", "How to be a Femme Fatale"

It never ends. Trends keep popping up left and right and it's inescapable.

As a young, impressionable teenager, I was, of course, naturally going to be influenced by these ever-changing trends. I'd constantly change my room aesthetic, buy new clothes, and I was never satisfied with my appearance. Why? Because I didn't look like the girls on screen.

News flash. You're never going to look like them. All that content they produce which gets 100k likes is done with excessive attention to detail, expensive lighting and sound equipment, and top-notch editing software. OF COURSE, you can't look like that. It's completely manufactured. It's heartbreaking to see young girls develop body image issues because of the constant bombarding of these "aesthetics" which are basically different beauty standards and stereotypes all wrapped up in a neat little package that is labelled "personality and style". I don't have anything against the concepts of aesthetics. I love how Dark and Light Academia is centred around learning, and how Cottagecore is all about relaxation and not conforming to being part of a 9-5 and just living life. I like how the Clean Girl is focused on being healthy and productive. What I don't like is how all these healthy things, which normal functioning humans should be doing are now turned into "trends" and you must "choose" between them.

Why it's so harmful

Fashion: Since aesthetics keep changing, you're going to find multiple that appeal to you. What happens when you discover you really like cottagecore, but your closet is filled with dark academia tweed? You turn to fast fashion. It's cheap and stylish. But it's horrible for the environment and that floral dress you're wearing was made by a woman in a sweatshop in Bangladesh, while fashion giants like Shein pocket the money.

Makeup: It's always there. Always. You cannot find a "how-to" post regarding aesthetics and makeup is not included. Its always how much blush to apply, why mascara is your best friend, blah blah blah. You know what I want to see? An aesthetic which promotes a clean, fresh face. I do wear makeup, not saying I'm perfect(yes, I wear lip tint and sometimes eyeliner), but it's the ridiculous notion that there's a specific makeup look for each aesthetic, and they say it's not very heavy, but really is concealer, foundation, blush, mascara and lipgloss light makeup?

Other: Then comes the things you should own, the bags, the shoes, the jewellery, the house decor. Did you notice to achieve the look, we're spending money bit by bit? Then you don't even realise it's made a dent in your savings.

Mentality: I hate this part about aesthetics so much. A while ago, I was really interested in Dark Academia and how it was centred around learning and studying. But everything was gloomy and dark and said I should be tired and bitter to achieve this. I'm not a serious person by nature in the first place, but here were blogs telling me to be "mysterious" and how I should be getting only 4 hours of sleep to be true Dark Academia? What is this dystopia? There's this weird obsession with how someone should behave if they like an aesthetic.

Online trends are all consumerism based. It's all to get you to blow your money on things that don't even benefit you.

There's a reason I never include and never will include tags like #clean girl or #pink pilates princess in my posts because it sort of reduces you to a certain aspect. Why confine yourself to these barriers? Wear what you want. Read what you like. The one "aesthetic" I believe in, is "that girl" which in reality is different for everyone, but boils down to being educated, well-mannered, and considerate. I will make a post on this. Being educated and kind is such a flex, not wearing one flowy white dress and "thinking" you're in a meadow. Break out of the pattern of being influenced by algorithms. Don't restrict your identity because of FOMO and the urge to be trendy. You've got this.

#self care #self improvement #self love #level up #level up journey #self love journey #glow up #college #tips and tricks #it girl #that girl #perfect #life #online aesthetics #online #social media #aesthetics

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yanchive · 5 months

Text

I got permission to expand on this idea, so I'm gunna share my thoughts and what I came up with regarding this cool idea. I got the concept of this from the OP of the previous post, @coveredinsoot , so credits goes to them. I used he/him for the Yan, and they/them for the Darling so all readers can enjoy. I haven't written something like this in ages. Forgive me.

TW: Yandere themes(obv), mentions of drug use(non consentual), minor mentions of sexual themes, not proofread very well I wrote this first thing in the morning. I hadn't even gotten out of bed lmao

-A recap of my tags in the previous post, my idea followed the premise of a yan whose darling is an employee working under the record label/idol agency(whichever one you prefer) he is signed onto. They could have a position working somewhat in the same sphere as their Yan. My first thought was maybe a touring staff, but I felt specifically that they could be a photographer who was hired solely to work under Yans label.

-They do the shooting for promos, they participate in the creation of music videos, go on tours to get photos at concerts, etc. They work alongside Yan, but rarely interact outside of the professional setting. Darling has a job they have to do, and getting personal with the artist they're assigned to work under is a risky thing, so they choose to keep their casual interactions to a minimal to avoid scandals.

-While Darling is putting their attention all into their career, Yan is forced to get his unrequited feelings out via music. Filling notebooks after notebooks with sickingly sweet words, turning them into lyrics that get pumped out to fans, who all imagine themselves as the reciever of such romantic tales of woe.

-Yan constantly sneaks details about his Darling into his music, from mentioning small physical traits on their body like the color of their hair and eyes, to maybe even scars and birthmarks no one would or should know unless they've seen them partially or fully naked. They would constantly bring up traits revolving around the Darlings personality most of the time, but no matter how many details they place in their songs, it just seems to go over Darlings head

-Yan constantly asks Darling what their thoughts are on his new music, hoping to one day see their eyes light up and realize they were the center of all his music and finally return his feelings, but Darling only ever gives vague compliments to him, telling him his music is great but really never delves to deep into the lyrics or sound.

-Yan finally comes to terms, after watching over his Darling for months, maybe even years, the Darling just never gives his music an actual proper chance, and that's why they never pick up on all the lyrics that would eerily describe them to a T. Yan decides to be a bit more risky, and take his lovey dovey songs into more darker territory.

-Its an obvious switch. Going from themed albums that would have him in more colorful attire and poppy beats, to more darker fashion and seductive tones. Clearly the Cloud 9, cutesy romance didn't do the trick, so maybe he could lure his Darling in with a more mature persona.

-Lyrics become much more sexual in nature, singing of long nights underneath the covers, decorating each others skin in marks, all the things that gets the crowds riled up. He isn't afraid to drop hints/details about kinks he picked up that his Darling seemed to be interested in(well at least that's what Darlings search history says).

-His fame skyrockets after the new change, and he sees his Darling has started to pick up a bit of an interest in his music(fucking finally). They notice a little bit of how Yan seems to keep a certain image of someone within his lyrics. Mentions of the same hair color(and if Darlings one to dye their hair, will even mention the change in hair color in the song(s), same eye color, same attributes both physically and personality wise. But despite that, Darling still hadn't gotten deep enough into the music to put the puzzle pieces together. Though they did make a joke about how much they related to this mystery person from the small amount of details they picked up.

-Yan definitely had to bite his tongue and hold his hands behind his back to keep from exploding after hearing that. So damn close, his Darling is right fucking there, the density this Darling had was driving Yan up the wall, but he'd be lying if he said he didn't find a little excitement in it. At this point he done already turned it into a game.

-The music just gets darker from there, and while the crowds of unwavering loyal fans eat up each word like its their last meal, Darling is finally becoming suspicious. Not just from the odd lyrics Yan has been singing, but also behaviors being exhibited behind the curtains. Around the first change in sound, when Yan took his music down a darker route, Yan had begun being more pushy with spending more time with his Darling. Following them around like a lost puppy between photoshoots. Trying his damnest to get Darling to hang out with him outside of work. Throwing parties just in an attempt to get Darling out of their professional persona around him. Constantly buying them things, showing up out of no where to chat with them, it was overwhelming.

-It was only getting worse, especially since Yan was beginning to slip up and say things about Darling that he shouldn't know. Afterall, Darling never told him such things. Coupled that with the fact that his lyrics in his new album sing of kidnapping and basements and a whole bunch of stuff that aren't at all romantic anymore, Darling is getting wary. They can't seem to go anywhere without this nagging feeling they weren't alone and something was wrong. They even begin looking into changing to a different label or becoming an independent photographer just to get away from overwhelming nature of their Yan.

-And Yan picks up on it. He realizes he isn't winning them over like this anymore, and he's now down to his last resort. He's always been a tad sadistic, even in the beginning he had a bit of joy daydreaming about kidnapping Darling and having them caged in his awfully large mansion, only having Darling ever see and hear from him. He's spent many hours in bed imagining ways to condition and brainwash Darling into relying on him, maybe even getting them so reliant on Yan that he'd be able to have them follow him once again on tours just so they could always be together every waking moment of their lives.

-But to get to that point, he was going to have to start at step 1.

1. Throw a party. At this point they had become common, as this was something he used in the past to get Darling to come out and spend time with him. He'd use the same excuse he's used in the past. He wants his favorite photographer to come and take amazing photos of the party so he can put them on his Instagram for bragging rights.

2. Get them chilled out. Darling never drinks alcohol at these parties. They have an expensive camera they need to protect, and taking decent camera shots require a steady hand. So Yan will make his own concoction for Darling. Darling only said they won't drink alcohol, they never mentioned anything else...

3. Take them out of the crowd and into a more quiet... secluded area of the house. They were never big on parties, its so easy to get overwhelmed, and now they're drowzy and stumbling over themselves and their words. Can't even stand up let alone walk. They clearly need some rest. Luckily Yan has everything they need to keep them comfortable. Now that they've finally made it home they can rest easy on their new bed while Yan finishes up closing down the party for the night.

4. Now a new life can be started. One much more suited to Yans taste. A life his amazing music has sung tales of since the day Yan fell in love...

#yandere #yandere oc #yandere idol #yandere singer #yandere musician #original work #yandere x reader #yandere x gn reader #yandere x male reader #yandere x darling #yandere x you #the ending is very abrupt I do not do endings well #I don't plan on doing this regularly

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ieatmoonrocks · 26 days

Text

Waiting Room

Inspiration pic:

About:

Is an open-concept one-story house, furnished and decorated to fit my style.

Initially located in a seemingly endless body of shallow water, in perpetual sunset.

Has an extreme time ratio, one year here is one second in any other reality.

All realities I shift to include the safeword "sunset" which when said with intention to shift brings me here.

I am always aware that my WR exists in every reality and never forget how to get here

I initially am the only being in this reality.

It is extremely safe here.

I can't accidentally shift away, I must use the front door.

Anything I mentally script in cr shows up on a page in my scripts here.

The house "resets" when I leave, cleaning and restocking itself.

Features:

The bed is massive and extremely comfortable

There's a storage cabinet with various objects I might need

The wardrobe fills itself with any clothes I want

The living room has a tv where I can watch anything I want, including "movies" of events from any DR

The living room also has a bookshelf that has any book I want on it, including books that tell me the secrets of the universe.

The kitchen is fully stocked with the best appliances and ingredients.

The dishwasher instantly cleans dishes and teleports them back where they belong

There's a cup that is always full of whatever drink I want at the perfect temperature

The front door has a screen that connects to my laptop so I can choose from realities.

The bathtub and shower have all the fancy products and endless hot water.

There is a high quality speaker system throughout the house

The back porch has a hot tub, hammock, and dining table.

There's a front deck with a few plants.

Objects not meant to break are unbreakable and don't malfunction

And of course endless free utilites

Phone:

Is connected to pretty much everything.

Sends and receives information to the laptop, controls the speakers and tv.

Has access to any song/ show/ movie/ podcast/ etc. I can think of, even has stations for each reality.

Connects to food preparation appliances, and will alert me when the food is cooked enough/ prepared for the next step.

When cooking there's options to fast forward or even instantly cook to that steps satisfaction.

Smart alerts - phone is aware of my proximity, as well as how much attention I am paying to the phone, and adjusts how the alert is sent.

Can order any prepared food I want and have it appear on porch table.

Can order additional objects which will appear on or next to the porch table.

Can look up any book from any reality I want even with ultra specific details and then ‘send to bookshelf’ causing a copy of the book to appear on the bookshelf.

Can look up and save different environments in my phone library, and set the outside environment to match.

Can add additional items or rooms.

Indestructible, infinite battery, infinite memory, amazing speeds, stays clean.

Has access to whatever social media I want from any reality. has the best feed in all social media.

Has a library that contains records of all versions of myself in each reality, section of most interesting versions of self.

Can send info to my mirror to project certain versions of myself which then changes my physical appearance in the WR. Can edit DR apperances.

Can "invite" copies of people from my DRs, who show up at the front door.

Laptop:

Receives and sends info to the door screen and phone.

Archives all visited realities, auto generates info pages/ scripts from details received from door screen.

Has a program that works similarly to A03 ~

Can script random realities or offshoot realities, details can be filtered for/against. Pages of realities are generated with a list of ‘tags’, opening the page lists more in-depth information, that is searchable.

Realities can be saved to the main page. on the main page realities can be rated or flagged as no-go (these are unavailable in the door screen). keeps track of manually added likes/ dislikes, also generates suggested likes/ dislikes based off of traits in common between visited realities and my rating of them.

Can give summaries of what changes in between parallel realities when one thing is changed.

Has a section of good script suggestions that never end.

Contains a section per script of “mentally scripted” points that can be added or dismissed.

Has programs for designing characters, rooms, images, etc. that are very easy and intuitive.

Records daily journals of all visited realities (yes even WR), as well as videos that can be watched as any sort of genre.

High quality overall, unlimited memory and processing.

Has any video game from any reality I want, with no load times, high speed , all the good stuff.

Me:

I can eat as much food as I want, the food/ drink disappears once it hits my stomach. (Alcohol still gets me drunk though)

I don't need any digestive bodily functions to survive, and therefore no need to use the bathroom.

I don't get a period.

Drinking/ others have absolutely no negative effects on me, and doesn’t effect my immediate or long term health.

I know where everything is located in the room. I can never lose/ misplace anything, especially my phone.

I never spill anything.

I'm very creative (script ideas, reality names, writing).

All the patience!

I can never get lost in this reality. I never stray too far from the house, and I always have my phone when I go exploring which will point me back, otherwise I pretty much always know my way back.

I can’t get hurt or sick or die, including environmental damage like sunburn, poison, etc.

I don’t have any mental illnesses.

I don’t care about any of my stresses from other realities. I see them objectively.

I'm extremely smart, great at analysis, great memory.

I have perfect senses.

My appearance upon arrival is that of whatever reality I came from.

#bog is shifting #reality shifting #shiftblr #shifting #shifting realities #desired reality #reality shifter #reality shift #shifting motivation #waiting room #bogs waiting room

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quicktosimp · 6 months

Text

Doomed From the Start

Kinktober Day 31 Tsu'tey

Warnings: Age Gap (20-25 years), Dub-Con, Forced Mating, Non-Concentual Drugging, Bondage, Dark, Rut, Heat, Loss of Virginity, A/B/O, Biting, Cervix Penetration, Squirting

A/N: Read the tags, please, this is dark, but wicked fun to write.

Thank you @pandoraslxna, for this opportunity it has been so much fun!

The war had ended differently than we thought it would. We won the battle, and the RDA members were set off back to earth. The humans who were loyal to the na’vi were allowed to stay, but we had to agree to specific terms.

The first is that humans are no longer allowed access to any modern weapons; if we take the time and learn to use the weapons made by the na’vi, that is fine, but no more metal. Second, no human was to be unaccompanied outside of Hell's Gate; any human outside unaccompanied by a na’vi outside was subjected to be shot. Finally, any unmated human was to be mated to a na’vi upon our reach of maturity.

At the age of 18, we present, growing into our secondary gender; we would then have two years to adjust before we were to be matted off. We are not allowed to touch down there, any sign of touching down there, and we would be placed in locks until our mateship. At the beginning of Spring, all the 20-year-olds would line up, separated by our class: alpha, beta, and omega. From there, a na’vi will choose which one they wish to mate. This is both Spider and I’s year. Even though we wanted to mate with each other, it was forbidden.

The alpha humans went first, leaving behind the rest to get ready. Several mated na’vi omegas would help us prepare, dressing us in traditional clothing and paints.

“You look stunning. A good alpha will choose you quickly,” The woman on my right exclaimed.

I have to physically stop myself from rolling my eyes. Instead, I stand there looking forward as they continue to paint my exposed body.

“There are many prime alphas who are your age and are eager to mate.” The woman decorating me in beaded jewelry explains to me.

I ignore them both, silently fuming.

“Come now, you knew this day was coming you’re whole life. Why are you so upset? Every omega dreams of being mated to a strong alpha, and you will not find a stronger mate than a na’vi.” The first one chimes in.

I look at her blankly, “Unless you’re about to be sold off against their will, then shut up,” I drawl, looking away again.

The other looked at me sharply, “You are just a tawtute. You serve no use besides being mated to us. The tawtute blood doesn’t infect our children. Birthing a strong clan, that is all you are good for,” She hissed.

“So you agree that humans are sold off,” I pointed out.

She ignores me, standing up, “She is finished,” Storming out.

The first woman looks at me, eyes filled with pity, “I know that some tawtute do not wish to be mated, but it will happen anyways. It is for the best,” She tries to soothe.

I look at her, my eyes filled with pain, “Tell that to the four that killed themselves his year to avoid being mated.”

She looks taken aback, as her face mirrors mine, “I pray every day that they are with Eywa, but that doesn’t change today. You will be chosen and mated by Eclipse.” She runs a hand through my hair, “I cannot stop it, and neither can you. All you can do is make the best of it,” She explains, bringing me into a hug.

I feel tears prick at my eyes from all the emotions from today. Slowly, she pulls back, “Now, come, it is time for you to line up.”

I follow her into the room with the rest of the human omegas, only four of us. As no human babies are being born, the numbers will soon dwindle to nothing. The na’vi omegas lined us up and around the group, something they started when humans kept trying to run off. We marched our way down, our faces grim, none of us eager to be mated. Some of us had our eyes on a human to mate.

As the Tree of Voices was destroyed, this ceremony is done at the Tree of Souls. Every na’vi present looked on with interest and glee, the unmated alphas closest, with their families watching on further behind.

The four of us line up next to each other. We all stare forward, waiting for the Tsahìk to start the ceremony. Mo’at calmly walks forward, leaving a distance in front of us.

“Welcome! It is time for our unmated to choose an omega! Together, they will mate by Eywa and bring strength to the clan!” Mo’at shouts joyfully.

The clan cheers at her words, excited the clan as they wait for the newest members to join them.

Mo’at raises her hand, silencing the crowd, “The number of tawtute is decreasing. Thus, we will do things differently this year.” She pauses, letting them understand her words, “As we have learned, tawtute blood does not mix with na’vi blood, leaving a clean child. We must guarantee that the strongest blood will carry on! Thus, this year, the Olo’eyktan will choose his mate!”

The clan erupted with cheers, excited to hear that their leader would finally have a mate and continue the bloodline.

“Tsu’tey, step forward and choose your omega,” Mo’at calls.

I fight to keep the sneer off my face as I look at the man, who is older than my father, comes into view. Tsu’tey is decorated in the traditional garb that the Olo’eyktan wears. He slowly looks over the four of us, and I lose the battle, sneering at him. He seems startled by my reaction before walking towards me, and the crowd quiets at the scene.

I lean my head back, keeping his gaze, but he seems confused, “Tell me, why do you look at your Olo’eyktan like this?” He demands, his voice quiet so only those near could hear us.

The hatred I felt boiled in my gut, “You are the one that sentenced every human to be mated against their will. Many of us have died because we believed that death was better than this. Four humans took their lives this year. As far as I am concerned, their blood is on your hands.” I growled at him.

The girl next to me gasped, grabbing my hand, fearful of the trouble my tongue would bring.

The Olo’eyktan seemed surprised before schooling his face. He backs off, walking to speak with Mo’at. No one could hear what they said, but their ears and tails showed aggravation.

“This is not over!” Olo’eyktan hissed.

Mo’at ignores his proclamation and simply asks, “Who do you choose?”

His eyes roam over us before landing on me. Dread filled my core like ice piercing my insides.

“Her,” He muttered.

Mo’ay grabbed his song cord and walked over to me. She grasped my wrists in her hand and used the song core to make an intricate knot, “The Olo’eyktan chose you. You will birth the next leader of the clan.” Mo’at brings a vial to my lips, forcing me to drink it, the sweet liquid flowing down my throat, “Now follow,” She uses the leftover amount of the song cord to pull me by my bound wrists. She leads me to stand before the Olo’eyktan, “This is the omega you have chosen; your mate will always be the most precious thing to you; now go forth and mate by Eywa’s grace.” Mo’at hands the trail of song cord to the Olo’eyktan before moving to the next omega.

“Come,” He demands, walking off.

I struggle to keep up with his long legs as he leads me deeper into the forest. The longer we walked, the warmer my body got, like fire burning in my veins, and the smell was better, too. I could smell the Olo’eyktan. A deep musk filled my nose, and the fire burned into an inferno.

I whine as a flash of heat hits my core, causing my knees to buckle. My arms raised over my head as my bound wrist was still in his grasp. I spread my legs as another wave of heat flows through me, slick and dripping down my thighs.

The Olo’eyktan stops, turning to look at me, “Did the Tsahìk give you something to drink?” He asked concernly.

The words he spoke didn’t register in my mind, only knowing that Alpha was speaking to me. I whine again once I notice his attention moved away from me, wanting Alpha’s gaze back on me. Another wave of heat hits my core painfully, causing me to double over as a flood of slick leaves my throbbing cunt.

“Yawntutsyìp, I know that thinking is hard right now, but I need you to answer me,” His voice came out rushed, “Did it taste bitter or sweet?”

I rack my brain, trying to follow Alpha’s orders, but it feels like my brain is full of molasses. I stare at him, breathing in his scent, until I remember what he was saying, “Sweet,” I answer him. Pleasure filled my core as I obeyed Alpha.

Several curses leave his mouth as he begins to panic, “I am so sorry, Yawntutsyìp, this is not how I wanted it to be,” His eyes were filled with regret.

I cock my head to the side, not understanding his words, only knowing that Alpha is upset. I whine as I lean back, showing off my clothed cunt, my slick leaving it a darker color.

Tsu’tey breaths in deep, and his pupils dilate at the smell, “Oh fuck, you smell good,” He moves as if his body isn’t his own.

With his large hand, he pushes me down, barring his face between my legs, sniffing again. Using his other hand, he reaches and rips my tewng off of me before delving into my folds.

I shriek at the pleasure as he licks my cunt from hole to clit, licking up any slick I had produced. Moving his tongue back down, he found where it was coming from. He forced his tongue inside, wiggling it around, trying to get more of my juices.

I open my legs wider, wanting more of Alpha. Once he realizes I’m eager for more, he lets go of my waist; instead, he brings his hand to my cunt, forcing a finger in alongside his tongue.

I screamed as pleasure crashed through me. I had never felt anything like that before, my legs shaking as they closed around Alpha’s head. The flames didn’t stop. They only seemed to get worse, crawling around and licking at every part of my body, filling me with an awful heat.

I moan in distress as the flames burn more. Alpha’s scent flows through me, calming me instantly. My legs fall to the side as he continues opening my cunt. He removes his tongue and pushes in a second finger, his tongue lapping at my navel before moving up, stopping at my covered chest. He growled impatiently, tearing off my chest covering, latching onto my tit. I thrust my chest into his face, wanting more of his lips, as he adds a third finger.

I squeal at the burn, wanting more of his fingers, and he pumps them in and out, wiggling them along the way. He goes on doing this, his mouth traveling around my body, placing kisses and bites, leaving marks in his wake.

The coil tightens again, and I know that feeling from before is going to happen again. I thrust my hips, meeting his fingers harshly, as the same pleasure courses through me again. My mouth is open in a silent scream as my vision whites out.

When I come to, I’m on my knees, chest pressed to the moss-covered ground, as Alpha leans over me. His large hand pushed on my back, keeping me down. I raise my hips higher, not knowing why, just that Alpha needed it.

A deep purr comes from Alpha, happy at my actions. I purr in return, eased by his actions. Slowly, Alpha leans over my back, caging me in his arms, leaning me warm in his embrace. Something hot poked at my cunt, and I flinched at the feeling, nothing that big had ever been near that place.

A low growl came from Alpha, not liking me moving away. He used his body to pin me to the ground more. The hand that was on my back before is now holding my hip. Keeping me in place.

I whine, leaning my head to the side, exposing my neck to Alpha, apologizing. He purrs again as he nuzzles my throat, right at my scent, glad, inhaling deeply. The Alpha is at my scent gland, and I whine, wanting him to skin his teeth in, making me his; instead, the hot thing from before pokes at my entrance. I stopped myself from moving this time, wanting to please Alpha.

Slowly, it pushes in, and it burns. I can’t keep myself still as it continues in; bumps push past my entrance, bringing a mix of pain and pleasure. His other hand now wraps around my thigh, forcing me back, and slowly, inch by inch, the pain fades away, and only the pleasure remains. My eyes roll into the back of my head as moans leave my lips, yet more is still forced into me. The stretch is more than his fingers could bring, and it does so deep.

Alpha hits something deep inside me, not allowing more to go in. Alpha growls at that, trying to force it in deeper. It hits it over and over again, bringing a bruised feeling of pain, but the pleasure overshadows it as something starts to give. Slowly, it gives in, and more in forced in.

I squirm, trying to rock my hips, wanting more of the deep feeling. The bumps from before keep moving, becoming harder, getting stuck inside me, bringing more pleasure. Alpha’s lips move over my scent gland before taking it between his teeth and biting hard, breaking the skin. I scream in pleasure as My Alpha mates with me. Something hits deeper inside me, filling me up, as that feeling washed over for a third time. I can no longer keep my body up; instead, I collapse onto the ground as wetness pours out of me in a stream. My body shakes as the feelings become too much. My vision darkens, but I don’t worry, knowing that my alpha will take care of me permanently.

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tr1ckysp00k · 1 year

Text

•Bob x nurse reader•

[warning: mentioning of scars, murder, cannibalism (I mean, this is bob), mental illness, mentioning of sharp objects (such as syringes, knives and such, ¿suggestive?]

Slightly proof read: I added more detail in certain bits of the story, and corrected any misspellings and missing words <3

Enjoy! <3

After years moving to various health schools, you’ve finally had became a licensed physician! You had a wonderful job, and big house, and lived in a amazing town!

Until. .

Your whole ship sank. You suddenly weren’t making enough money as you should, now this was a major problem considering you needed money to pay off EXPENSIVE bills, and nonetheless food, the very thing that keeps you alive.

All these problems were pulling you at the edge of a cliff, either continue down this path or. .

•

You decided to move to a smaller house in a less expensive town. You needed to be able to pay for food, and a home, so you choose to live in the cheapest town you could find.

This place was not all of a dump. .

Well it mostly was, but it couldn’t get worse. You unpacked your stuff from inside your shabby house, getting ready for a new day in a new place. You’ve already signed up for a job at the hospital. .which looked more like a asylum, but ANYWAYS.

It paid you well, you were able to keep afloat, there were only so many people working there. Your patients were well-behaved too! But then you hit another bump. .

Day 1

11:00 - AM

You walk into the hospital, which was cover in polar white paint, while the floor was decorated in lose, gray tiles. Something felt off once you stepped inside, like today was gonna be a bad day. .

Reluctantly you walked in, dusting off the stomach-churning feeling with a shake of your head. Once you clocked in, almost immediately, you were called into office. The head informed you that you were gonna be handling a ‘special case’ since you were ‘the only licensed nurse’.

•

To be honest, it’s mostly because you were the first person to arrive work.

They had specifically instructed you on what you’ll need to do and sent you off with a little warning.

‘We are not worried about you hurting him, but him hurting you. . If he does get a little ‘frisky’ we laid out some syringes filled with chloroform (aka the ‘knock out drug’)’

•

Now you were worried, a lot actually. ‘He will hurt me? Why would he do such a thing? Is he mad or something?’

You continuously fidgeted with your fingers as you slowly made your way to the pale white door. Your heart rate was at a faster pace, feeling as if it were trying to escape from your chest. You gulped as you placed you hand on the cold handle of the door, slowly opening it to reveal. .

•

Nothing. Nothing but a empty hospital bed, lied out equipment that rested on a tray, and documents. You hesitatingly walked in the room, heading for the documents. You opened the vanilla colored folder out of curiosity, reading through the fine printed lines of words.

‘Bob velseb, hmm what a peculiar name, where have I heard that before. .’

As you tried to flip over the sheet of paper, something felt out from between the pages.

“The devil has come out?” You said in a whisper.

BAM

The slam of the door echoed through your ears, swiftly turning, only to be knocked to the ground. You were face to face with a large man with pale white skin that was lathered in cuts and bullet holes from top to bottom. His smile only contained pure mania. He placed one of his massive arms beside the door blocking it so you couldn’t run off and within his other arm, his hand held a scalpel. He dazed amongst your terror filled eyes, you were basically paralyzed in fear. He pounced onto you, holding the small blade at your neck.

“Did you know. .~ the heart organ can survive 6 to 8 hours outside of the body?…” a chuckled followed his horrid fact.

“Did you know, breath mints are a thing?” You seethed, kicking in the base of his stomach. He slid amongst the smooth-like tiles, then charging at you. You ran in a panic, aiming to grab one of the syringes that were spread on the ground. You did manage to catch one, a small ‘yes’ of relief escaped your lips but, weren’t paying no attention to bob.

You grabbed you by your neck, pinning you to the dirty ground while holding the scalpel near rim of your stomach. Cyan ruled over his eyes with a sadistic passion. And drool ran over his lips, like a river. With swiftness you hammered the syringe into his arm. He hissed out of pain, and threw you aside. He ripped the shot out his skin, and attempted to make his way towards you before

Boom

Went the man, as he made contact with the ground. He was out cold. You had took it to your advantage. .

•

After you removed any bullets that were lodged in his stomach and back, and sewn him up, you decided to do some digging on him. You read through the paper that read ‘devil has come out’ the placed were you left off, and read through the lines.

‘This makes more sense now..’ you thought, as you furrowed brows at the man that was out cold on the small bed, his large stature took over.

‘How isn’t this guy dead?’ You questioned as You glared at the disc that held the blood covered bullets. Suddenly thoughts were put to a pause when you heard the man shuffling around the sheets. You held a vile close, just in case he tries any funny business.

He arose from his head-aching slumber. Holding his noggin in his hand, clearly a bit in pain from the ‘nap’ he took. It didn’t take long for him to notice you in the corner of the room, sitting in a slightly broken chair. He slowly got himself up, and attempted to get off the bed to come towards you, but you showed him the syringe just as a little warning. He plopped back down in bed, still making eye contact.

By this time he had both feet on the ground, but was still slouched in the bed. His fore arms rested atop his legs, as he let his arms carry his weight. His eye were trained onto you, the itching hunger to grab and bite was clear as day in his eyes. You made sure to show him that you were not afraid, staring right back into his crazed filled eyes.

•

All of a sudden someone opened the door, you made sure to keep bob in your vision no matter who it was.

“I say, y’all did well?” The man asked with a question in tone.

“He tried eating me, but I got done what needed to be done.” You say, with a expression that was as blank as a board.

“He… what?”

“Nothing, just keep a very close eye on him, while I get his lunch ready.” You got out the rusty chair, handing the doctor the vile.

Bob frowned a bit when he saw you leaving the room, something about you made him feel a funny feeling in the pit of his stomach, and it wasn’t hunger I’ll tell you that.

•

You had gotten the food prepped and ready for ‘your patient’. You wanted to hurry, you didn’t trust bob with your fellow employee. And if he did get hurt, you’d be responsible for the incident, since you left them both alone.

When you returned, everything seemed fine. They confirmed that bob didn’t try anything, and stayed from afar. You escorted them out the room, making sure they exited safe and sound, then faced the murderous cannibal. You dragged your feet as you made your way to give him his tray, which has plain food sitting in each category of the tray while a glass of fresh water sat at the edge of the plastic serving dish.

“Here, enjoy. Sicko. .” You trailed off at the end of your sentence, for only a mumble to be heard.

He cringed his nose in response, while slightly narrowing his his brows. He looked down at the food in disgust, complaining with a groan.

“This steak ain’t even seasoned. .”

He grumbled in irritation. Picking at the slab of dry meat with a plastic spork.

“Boo-hoo.” You giggled a bit, but immediately stopped when you saw the man frown in annoyance, a bit of sweat beading out your fore head as you reminded yourself you were in the same room with a serial killer.

You got everything done without a hassle. Including getting bob to eat, despite his pro-testing. What you really were ticked off about is that, you were STILL going to have to take care of him for a couple of weeks, until his injuries have recovered.

• What a way to star the day. . It’s not even past 12:00 yet.

• He’d request for you non-stop through out the day.

• Needed to get some paper work done? Forget it. You were on break? Time to get to working again, your patient is in need of you. You couldn’t even go to the bathroom without being bothered.

• bob had MADE sure it was only YOU coming to his rescue, attempting to bite, or tear into any other twat that tried laying a finger on him.

• when you did snapped at him for his constant, annoying request for you, he giggled it off saying it’s was cute seeing you this frustrated.

•

“There are other people here, why don’t you try asking assistance from them!?” *you’d hissed in irritation, frustration was visible*

“*he chuckles* aww, don’t

Be so mad. . Isn’t it yer job to help those in need, docs?” *he coos*

•

• but once the moon made its way up the night sky, you had given a sigh of relief. Finally able to rest, and someone else would have to put up with his bull-crap.

• When you were getting ready to go home, after a day of long work. You bid the tramp adieu, the frown he gave what up-most satisfying. Though, come tomorrow, you’ll have to go through this hell with him again. And he knew it.

•He just couldn’t wait.

Just until I figured out what happens in part 6 of just a bite.

Thank you for reading!

#spooky month #bob velseb #bob velseb x reader #enjoyyyy #nurse y/n x bob velseb #fanfic #i don’t know how to use tags #ITSASPOOKYMONTH #bob #<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

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soaked4mk · 1 month

Note

Could you do a fic where the reader has a crush on Syzoth (MK1) and she doesn’t know how to confess to him, so she writes a song that’s aimed at him but he doesn’t know until she performs it at a festival or in the royal court (you can choose)?

If you need a song for the fic, I got you:

👽: I love this prompt!! I’ve decided on sweet relief. I’m keeping this one short but cute. (Not proof read)

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

★ The Sun Do festival is lots of fun. And anyone is allowed to participate in the event. There’s food, plenty of drink, lots of friendly banter, and of course the music. Actually, speaking of, you were known for your sweet voice, you had a nick for song writing too.

★ Almost every day, you were accompanied by Syzoth. Whether it was training, or just to talk with you as a friend, it was a sweet relief to hear his voice any chance you got. You adored his stories and would listen intently. And if he were mourning the loss of his family every once in a while, you never hesitated to comfort him.

★ You two spent a lot of time together. And of course you had secretly conducted feelings for Syzoth. Admiring him from afar as he did everyday activities. but never finding the courage to confess.

★ Instead, you would pour your emotions into your music. Late into the night, you would sit by your window, strumming your guitar or composing some kind of beat on your laptop and penning down heartfelt lyrics. As the grand Sun Do festival approached, you decided it was time to reveal your feelings to Syzoth.

★ You poured your heart and soul into crafting the perfect song, weaving melodies that expressed your love and admiration for him. On the day of the festival, the town square was adorned with colorful banners and bustling with excitement. The stage was set up and after the current group, you were next. Syzoth peeps you through the crowd and approached you with a smile.

★ “Hey Y/N, I heard you’re performing? How exciting!” He gave you a reassuring pat on the shoulder, his hand lingering longer than necessary. You nod and smile back at him, cheeks dusted with pink as his thumb rubs small circles on your shoulder before releasing. “Yeah…I’m pretty sure I’m up next…” You nervously said. Looking at the band who took the stage.

★ Noticing your slight unease, Syzoth shoots a compliment in attempt to calm your nerves. “Well, you have a beautiful voice, I’m sure you’ll blow the crowd away when you’re up there.” You smiled at him and looked back up to the stage.

★ After the act finished their song, it was your turn. And Syzoth tells you that you’ll do just fine, and that you’re an amazing musician. You walk up to the neatly decorated stage, hands trembling as you clutched the microphone.

★“Uhm…” the microphone lets out a long ring before you adjust it, by tapping your index finger a couple times on it. “I wrote this song…for someone special.” You shakily say into the microphone, glancing at the people, your palms began to get clammy, and your heart-rate quickens.

★ You spot Syzoth amongst the crowd, who shoots you an adorably supportive smile with two thumbs up. swallowing before forcing yourself to keep your composure. You mentally note that this is the moment.

★ That he would either understand the song was about him, and feel the same. Or that he would understand the song was about him, and not feel the same. Either way the lyrics were too specific for them to fly over his head. So without further thought, you clear your throat as the track to your song begins to play.

★ As you began to sing, your voice rang out clear and sweet, capturing the attention of everyone present. Unbeknownst to Syzoth, every word of the song was directed at him. pouring out your feelings, your voice filled with emotion as you sang with admiration and longing.

★ The crowd fell silent, enchanted by the heartfelt lyrics and soulful melody. Syzoth, who had been listening from the edge of the crowd, felt a warmth spread through his heart as he realized the song was meant for him. He watched you pour your heart out on stage.

★ Absolutely enamored by your performance, it seemed like the crowd faded away, and it was only the two of you, looking at each other with that longing stare. Syzoth had always sensed this special connection between you, but had never dared to hope that you felt the same.

★ When you finished your performance, the crowd erupted into thunderous applause. As you walked off of the stage, Syzoth stepped forward, a soft smile playing on his lips as he approached you.With butterflies in your stomach, you looked into Syzoth's eyes and finally confessed your feelings to him.

★ To your surprise and delight, Syzoth smiled, reaching out to take your hand. “Y/N….” He looked into your eyes. “I never knew you felt this way about me…” “The song was beautiful.” you felt an overwhelming warmth spread throughout your chest, as your heart leapt in your throat.

★ Syzoth embraced you, taking a moment to gather his thoughts, he met your gaze with sincerity. “Firefly…” he paused, searching for the right words to convey the whirlwind of emotions swirling within him. “From the moment we met, I knew you were a rare gem.” His voice softened as he continued. “Your kindness, your laughter, your genuine spirit—it all drew me in. Piece by piece.”

★ As you let his words absorb, you notice him taking a shaky breath in. His heart was most like pounding just as hard as yours was. “The lyrics you sang to me, wrote for me… echo in my soul.” Syzoth cupped both of your trembling hands, in his own. His eyes locking with a yours with silent promise.

★ “I want to explore this connection between us, to see where it leads.” Syzoth confesses, his voice soft with sincerity. “With you, Y/N…I feel like I’ve stumbled upon something so special— a love that has the power to push forward, to help me be a better man…”

★ Your cheeks were burning up, and your eyes filled with tears of joy, choking up slightly, you pull him back into a tender embrace. Knowing that in this moment, the two of you had taken the first step on a journey filled with love, laughter, adventure and endless possibilities.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

#mk1 #mk1 2023 #mortal kombat 1 #mk x reader #mk x you #mk x y/n #syzoth mk #syzoth x reader #rainyworx #rainyresponds

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coolfireguy73 · 4 months

Note

how do you decorate your sketchbook? do you plan the whole page layout out before sticking stickers (or etc) or?? they look so pretty

No I don't really plan anything. Not the whole page at least.

My thought process is kinda like this:

1. Preparation !

I start by drawing whatever I want on a piece of paper, either a page of my sketchbook or a piece of colored paper I have laying around.

The key is to never draw directly on your sketchbook so that you can position it however you want on the page and even glue things under it.

Then I usually figure out a theme based on the drawing (like "my oc", "TF2", "jojo" or even "character in dresses" etc..)

And a color scheme, one main color and one or two secondaries. (If I drew on colored paper already this will most likely be the main color I choose)

This is just to give a bit of coherence wich ultimately helps.

Then I try drawing other things that would fit the theme or the vibe.

When I have a few drawings (at least two) I can start arranging the page.

2 Getting stared on the page !

From then I do pretty much anything I think will look good.

I can glue colored paper on the whole page or just pieces in the corners. Then I can glue the drawings I have on top.

I can put stickers underneath them as well.

I still try to think about what other drawing I could add to finish the page, mainly the size and the color I will use.

3 Finishing the page !

Once I glued the first few drawings and figured out what I want for the rest of the page, I draw the last few drawings, and I glue them like I did the first few.

I see if I can add stuff underneath or even put tape on the edges to make it seem like I tapped them like in a scrapbook ! A lot of this is inspired by scrapbooking.

Now that everything is glued I can start decorating and filling any blank spots on the page.

Either by putting stickers, little notes, drawing doodles, putting the date, my signature, what music I'm listening to, etc... (I usually try to put stickers in groups)

You can even print images and photographs and whatnot.

ORRR you can also rectify parts of your drawings you don't like by gluing paper on top and re drawing that part. If you use different color paper it can help the page look busy.

Honestly it's mainly about the vibe and the business.

4? Material

I have a lot of cheap colored paper, of those little booklet with paper with motifs on them I found at the dollar store.

I'm kinda collecting cheap sticker sheets so I can have a wide variety of things and colors I can stick next to my drawings.

You could also buy stickers packs of the internet or from creators if you want more specific stickers.

I've always love how scrapbooks looked, so that a great inspo for me.

#hope this answers your question! 😅#ag replies #art tips #art advice #sketchbook

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biscuitblinkeu · 11 months

Text

They Like To Argue [14]

Chaennie x Fem!reader

Word Count: 3754

A/n: One more chapter I think? This gif is so cute!

……………………………………………………………………………

“Oh..” Seulgi was speechless seeing all the hands. “I honestly didn’t expect you all to raise your hands.” Seulgi placed her palm on her forehead and looked around at all the choices. She can’t have everyone watching you because some of them have things they need to do.

“Eliminate that hand, Chaeyoung. You can’t watch her first.” Seulgi said and the angel scowled, crossing her arms.

“And why not?” Chaeyoung didn’t understand why she couldn’t be with you. She was your guardian angel after all.

“You have to meet with your parents to inform them you’ve arrived.” Seulgi explained hesitantly, knowing she wouldn’t like the idea at all.

After the explanation, despite Chaeyoung’s indifferent expression everyone could see she was furious. The irritated twitch of her lip gave it away, which she pressed together to suppress it. “Why can’t you tell them I’m here, Seulgi?”

"Because they want you specifically. It won't be long, they just wanted to see you before it starts. You're meeting them at the main table after all. You won't be going anywhere that far from (Y/n)." She added.

"Fine, let's go in now, I want to get this over with." Seulgi put up a hand to stop her.

"We're not done yet," Seulgi said. She hasn't picked who watches you first, but the choice doesn't matter at the same time because they'll all be watching you if they’re near. "Lisa and Jennie." She picked, earning multiple groans from the remaining angels because they weren't chosen. Especially Yeji. She deserves a chance to be with you since she just met you and the others have already.

But it doesn’t go like that- not with Seulgi’s choosing. She has to listen as it’s an order. She is fine with waiting, it’s just annoying and unfair to her, despite the fact she’ll get to hang out with you later.

“All of you stop sulking. You’re all basically still watching her, just them first? You know what. I hope you can understand what I just said. But let’s just go in now, we’re already 3 minutes late.” She sighed, and everyone nodded. They did understand what she meant, which released some of their frustration. Once you got in front of the main entrance the door automatically opened, revealing a lot of things for you to take in.

You looked around the banquet room like a deer in headlights. Everything was so fancy and rich— it was unreal. White and gold-themed tables were placed around the room seated with angels, fallen ones, and demons. You then remembered something Seulgi told you about the banquet. There was a strict no fighting policy, seeing as everyone was talking equally and minding their own business.

If this wasn’t an event they’d be at each other's throats.

You noticed gold lining the marble wall cracks. The floor was a glossy white, and chandeliers lit up the room, decorated with crystals and materials you’ve never seen before. They hung from the ceiling, which was invisible, and instead there was the night sky.

You suspected the chandeliers were floating, but didn’t have time to question it when a long table across the room caught your attention. It was filled with food. Jennie saw you eyeing the desert table, practically eating the stuff on it with your eyes. “Do you want to go there first?” She asked, and you immediately agreed. Jennie smiled and held your hand, bringing you to the food tables and Jisoo followed along, wanting some herself. The other angels did as well.

Everyone except Chaeyoung and Seulgi followed, as they were walking in the opposite direction to the main table where the Dove, the Generals, and the top angel’s sat. When they got in sight, Chaeyoung’s father came running over to her. ”You came!” Mr. Rose smiles, pulling her into a hug. Chaeyoung just hummed, hugging back. She didn’t want to come in the first place, and she didn’t want to hug him. She’s not fully comfortable with him yet because she doesn’t have her full trust.

The next person to come over was her mother, who patted her on the shoulder. “I know you are annoyed having to come here first, but it will be quick. Did you bring the human?” Mrs. Park asked, looking around the room. Her mother and father were both interested to meet you.

…

The group of angels were taking over the desert table, filling their plates with so much food there might not be enough for the rest of the guests. You and Nayeon go straight for the desserts while the others go for the real food. While Jennie is putting stuff on her and Yeji’s plate, she’s interrupted by a sickeningly familiar voice.

“To what do we owe the pleasure of this meeting, Grim Reaper? Who would’ve thought you’d attend a banquet?” Jennie’s jaw clenched in irritation and she passes the plate to Yeji, drops your hand, and turns around to greet them— which she doesn’t want to, but she’ll be considered rude if not.

“I was so sure you’d skip again,” they say wistfully, twirling their wine glass amusingly. “It also seems your group will inhale all of the food this year too.”

This is the exact reason Jennie hates banquets. This one, cocky angel that comes to her like a magnet, talking shit about her or being annoying. She thinks they hold some kind of grudge against her, maybe one thing from the past— she doesn’t care. “We all know you don’t get any pleasure from my visit, Shin. Cut the crap.” Jennie seethed, clutching the fork in her hand like a knife.

“Yeah…let’s go,” Jisoo said, grabbing your hand and walking you to the side tables to sit. You could tell Jisoo was annoyed, her face scrunched up with a look that revealed how much she disliked the interaction. Jisoo knows Shin will bring up how Jennie and her are the most problematic and such. Those are Jennie’s “enemies” and she’s just dragged in.

“Who was that?” You asked curiously, stuffing a piece of cheesecake in your mouth. You couldn’t help but worry for Jennie. She became really tense at their voice.

“Mr. Shin Procit,” Jisoo informed. “He’s a high-class angel who works in the council along with Chaeyoung’s mother. Nobody likes him, at least that’s what I think. Who would like him with that attitude?” She goes on, now rambling. You hum.

“Do you like the cake?” She asks, changing the topic and watches you put more in more in your mouth, making your cheeks puff up. You nod. “You're similar to Nayeon,” Jisoo said, pointing at your cheeks. “Actually..where is she?”

Jisoo looks around the room, her eyes finding Nayeon at the dessert table where everyone else was. The bunny-toothed angel was still piling up a plate, putting a little bit of everything on it. Jisoo let out a snort.

“Did you know you attract a lot of attention, girl?” A voice said behind Jisoo and you, scaring you both. When you turn around you’re met with another angel who has light brown hair, sharp eyes, and powdered with golden make-up.

“She does, Yoon-hwi,” Jisoo speaks up for you.

“Well, that is interesting. I just wanted to remind her- maybe you both. You have demons eyeing you across the room.” Yoon-hwi informs, stealing glances at you as she speaks, cocking an eyebrow in confusion.

“You are Chaeyoung’s human, right?” Yoon-hwi asked, and you nodded. Jisoo thinks you should’ve never answered Yoon-hwi, and instead she did the talking but it was too late. “Oh really? So this is the special human..” Yoon-hwi mutters, looking you up and down.

”You’re pretty.” That is what the light-brown-haired angel says next, surprising Jisoo the most. That isn’t a good thing to say to someone else’s human. It’s considered rude if they’re not yours. You just mutter a small “Thanks..” and look at Jisoo for help. The dark-haired angel just gives you a weary smile, she can’t really do anything about it, because now you have her attention.

Yoon-hwi is spotting you, which means she’s hitting on you, most likely to try and have you. It’s a rather stupid thing Jisoo thinks, along with the rules. They state you can’t interfere if another angel is spotting a human, it’s the human's choice.

If she knew the conversation was gonna turn out like this she’d never have let Yoon-hwi speak.

….

“Yes, I brought her. She’s somewhere around here, with Jisoo and Jennie I believe— and the others.” Chaeyoung answered her mother who smiled. “Bring her here soon, we’d like to meet her. Also, keep her safe.” Her father said, also looking around for you. There were so many people here it was hard to see you in the crowd.

“I think she’s over by the dessert table, that’s where they went first,” Seulgi informed. She had already spotted you, who had someone new with you. Seulgi would rather make Chaeyoung look and see for herself. It would be entertaining.

“Oh, don’t you do that.” A teasing voice speaks up, being Minai’s. He’s in a white suit, with a gold tie and face decorated with jewels. “That comment was for you, Seulgi. I know what you're thinking.” He taps his forehead twice and grins smugly.

Seulgi clears her throat, hoping to change the topic, “You look dashing Minai!” He compliments and Chaeyoung nods.

“Thank you.” He does a little bow, showing off the full outfit. “Now, Chaeyoung...” He looks at Seulgi and she rolls her eyes playfully. “Did you know the human is getting spotted?” At the word “spotted” Chasyoung scowls. “I happened to pass by the human and the others, and Yoon-hwi kept taking shots at her, she called the human pretty and kissed her hand. Jisoo is with her but she can’t do anything.”

“Well, that’s all I wanted to say. I’ll meet you at the table soon then, goodbye.” He then walks off into the crowd, most likely to find his friends. “Alright. How about we go-” Seulgi says as she turns to address Chaeyoung but stops as the angel is already gone. At that, Seulgi starts running to the area, not wanting to miss the drama.

…

“I can’t believe Park Chaeyoung has such a lovely human. Why don’t you trade her for me? I’ll treat you much better....” Yoon-hwi lulled, reaching out to caress your cheek. As she’s about to do so her hand is immediately slapped away and yanked up by someone.

It's Chaeyoung who's suddenly next to her, glaring at her hand. “What are you doing?” She says coldly, her grip on the light-brown-haired angel’s wrist increasing so tight to the point Yoon-hwi thinks it's gonna break.

Yoon-hwi doesn’t answer Chaeyoung, too focused on prying her wrist out of her grip, and when she does it just tightens more. She lets out a scream, which is muffled by Chaeyoung’s hand over her mouth as she feels her bones cave in, very close to the point of snapping. Chaeyoung lets out an amused hum before throwing him down to the floor.

She won’t snap Yoon-hwi’s wrist— at least not in front of you. Once Yoon-hwi is let go she scrambles up off the floor and runs away into the crowd. Jisoo can’t hold in her laughter as Yoon-hwi runs away with her tail between her legs. You are just silent and shocked. You find it funny a bit too, but not to the point you can laugh out loud about it. You’ll stay respectful.

Jennie, Seulgi, Lisa, Nayeon, and Yeji seemed to have watched the situation unfold as they were standing around you, eating their food as if it was normal. At this point, you thought it was normal seeing Chaeyoung act like that.

“Is she interesting to you?” Your angel asks with a curious tilt of her head, her facial expression blank as she stares into your eyes. The angel seemed mad, maybe irritated, with you. You avert your eyes down to the gold trill of her dress, not because you’re avoiding the answer, but because you're scared to. Your answer is a simple “no,” but Chaeyoung’s demeanor is making you think you shouldn’t speak up at all. There’s no way to tell how Chaeyoung is going to respond.

“(Y/n), look at me properly,” she says, lifting your chin. Her tone is sweet like sugar and you would’ve been fooled if it weren’t for the lingering bitterness coating it. Her eyes were another clue. They were somewhat cold and indifferent, and once you meet them she smiles— that same smile that makes you think Chaeyoung’s normal.

You think it’s safe— it has to be safe to answer now and you’re just overthinking it, yet your mouth won’t open, you don’t know how she’ll answer— if a simple “no” is fine.

“Cat got your tongue, (Y/n/n)?” She questioned, now face to face with you with a fond expression. Your angel brings up a hand to pay your head, brushing over your hair lightly. “You don’t have to answer. I know you’re not interested in her… and if you are,” she breaks her sentence and smiles, backing up a few inches. You wondered what she would have said and what your response would be. It was left blank for a reason.

“Okay?…” you trail off, looking at her hoping for an answer, but to no avail. Jisoo speaks up, placing a hand on Chaeyoung’s shoulder. “Boo,” she drags on in fake pity, shaking her head left to right. “That’s a shame. You’re rather boring Pasta?” We were all waiting for your lovely confession.” Jisoo whispers the last part, and Chaeyoung glares at her playfully. The others think so as well. Chaeyoung is holding back again, and again. It’s be more interesting if she spoke what was on her mind.

“So, how is the food?” She asks, picking up your plate and taking a bit of your cheesecake. Her cheeks puff out as she chews, and she lets out a hum of approval. It was good, food was probably the best thing about the banquet. The meetings were the worst.

Lisa cooed at Chaeyoung, turning and wiggling her eyebrows at you before moving towards the angel. She grabs the angel’s cheek and puckers her lips. “Chaeyoungah, kiss,” she says in a flirty baby voice, and Chawyoung scowls, her face scrunching up in disgust as she backs away.

Nayeon, Yeji, Jennie, and Seulgi break out into laughter, you as well watch Chaeyoung struggle to get away. Lisa corners the angel at the table, blocking her way of escap. She gets close enough to her cheek but does not touch it, and “kisses” her, making a smooch sound before poking the area.

This happens way too often, and Chaeyoung knows she should consider when it does- but she’s always too late to react to Lisa, or Jennie trying to tease her with a kiss.

“I think we should be going to the table now- with your parents,” Seulgi spoke up through the laughs, informing Chaeyoung- mostly you, of them. Chaeyoung’s parents want to meet you, so it’s best if they go now before it gets too late and they have to stay overtime.

“(Y/n) you’re fine with that, right?” Chaeyoung asked you, taking your left hand and allowing Jennie to take the other, building you to the main table.

When you got there, there were four others. Minai, who you assumed we Chaeyoung’s parents, and a boy with blonde hair. When Chaeyoung’s parents caught sight of you, her father immediately got up and pulled out a chair, motioning for you to sit down. He had striking lilac hair, deep brown eyes, and a few freckles around his nose and cheeks like Chaeyoung.

You take a seat next to her parents, but about one seat away. You sit between Jennie and Chaeyoung— the angel closer to her parents. Chaeyoung gives her father a light smile, and it’s not nice or mean. It’s tolerant. If he tries anything she won’t stand for it.

Everyone else sits down around the table, in order of Minai, the blonde angel boy, Seulgi, Jisoo, Nayeon, Lisa, and Yeji. After everyone is settled, Chaeyoung’s mother speaks up, saying, “Welcome to the banquet! I’m Chaeyoung’s mother, Mrs. Park, and this is her father, Mr. Rose.” She introduces themselves to you.

“Yes that’s right, and you can just call me Rose...It’s nice to meet you.” Mr. Rose added with a smile. You return it, “It’s nice to meet you both.” You said before looking down because the angel across the table with blonde hair was staring at you very intensely. It was making you uncomfortable.

Chaeyoung noticed that and cleared her throat, narrowing her eyes at the boy. “That’s Areim.” She says, setting a hand on your shoulder so you look up. She wanted to make sure you’re the most comfortable here.

Minai scoffs as Chaeyoung introduces her, muttering something about, “spHe could’ve done it himself,” and so on. Jennie doesn’t understand why he couldn’t either, and being the person she is, she asked, “Did a demon bite your tongue off? Can’t speak for yourself?” She said daringly to the angel, who rolled his eyes.

“I didn’t feel the need,” he answered, and at those words Chaeyoung’s expression faltered. How annoying, she thought. You could sense the tension, and decided to stay out of it by paying attention to the food on the table. Your attention is grabbed by a foamy drink cased with a gold-dotted twisting shaped glass, which you go for immediately, taking a sip from it out of curiosity. It tasted like some kind of fancy wine with sweet foam on top.

”So, (Y/n), right?” Areim decided to speak to you, ignoring Jennie’s irritated glance. You nod in response, taking another sip of the foamy drink. Areim hummed, looking you up and down. “You’re interesting.” He tilted her head as she said that, a smirk on his face in amusement. “You look like a bookworm.” He added, and you didn’t find it mean, because he wasn’t wrong.

“How do you feel about Chaeyoung? I know you must just be repulsed by that Grim Reaper, you must hate her, I know.” He had to add, and from the side you saw how Jennie looked down briefly, a frown on her lips. You knew she had to be remembering that time you said you hated her— and you wanted to get rid of that thought. You interlaced your fingers with Jennie’s underneath the table, squeezing her hand once. She glanced at you and that smile was back on her face.

“How do you feel about the angel, though?” Areim asked again, and you looked at him wide-eyed. Chaeyoung was silent, she decided to see how this plays out. “I mean your relationship…skinship, right?” You didn’t know what to say, what’s with all these personal questions?

“Don’t ask her that,” Jennie spoke, clearly still annoyed. When Areim hears her voice, he scowls. “She never said I couldn’t. Now why don’t you shut up and let me speak? I haven’t met her.” He said in a snarky way, turning back to you. “I hope those questions weren’t intrusive. You don’t have to answer.” As he speaks his tone was much more softer than the harsh one he used with Jennie. You decided you didn’t like this guy all that much.

Nobody understands how he can be nice to everyone except Jennie. They think it’s something to do with status, maybe the fact she’s a Grim Reaper and he’s an angel. That doesn’t make sense though, because they’re all angels themselves, and they have no problem with Jennie.

You focus your attention on the drink, glad he didn't make you answer. “Stop being such a bitch.” Jennie snaps and you splutter, a bit of your drink spilling from your lips. That was unexpected. Chaeyoung notices and grabs a napkin, wiping your mouth for you.

“Ah, they’re about to start this year again?” Jisoo lets out a chuckle, looking to the side when Seulgi glares at her to shut up. You’re partly confused by the comment, wondering if they do this often.“Is that appropriate at the table? Calling each other names?” You asked quietly, looking at Chaeyoung for an answer.

Chaeyoung shrugged, “It's appropriate at this point..we all got used to it.” She laid her head on your shoulder. “It’s entertaining.”

“A bitch?” He questioned, his mouth corners pricking into a sinister smile, twitching as he tried to hold his composure. “You’re the bitch here Jennie! Always running your damn mouth when it’s not needed.”

“Back at you.” Jennie leaned back in her chair, making him splutter in disbelief. Areim’s face goes red with embarrassment and anger having his own remark turned against him.

Chaeyoung’s parents were watching this unfold, and Mrs. Park was regretting letting Areim sit here again. She thought they’d get over their little rival bickering. She really hoped this banquet year would be different.

“You’re the bitch who misses the banquet almost every year. A straight disappointment. You disgrace your family. I’m surprised you even came to this one.”

“Oh? I have fun being a disappointment, don’t you know? And was I supposed to miss this one too? Miss a banquet with my human and my angel? Oh my, I could never!…” Jennie gasped dramatically, holding a hand to her forehead like a damsel in distress as she fell on Lisa’s shoulder. And, Lisa playing along, began to fan Jennie. Areim narrows his eyes at them and scoffs. He doesn’t answer for a while and that’s when Jennie thinks he’s done throwing a tantrum, but he’s not.

“Your brother (a collective gasp was heard) would’ve wanted—” Areim attempted to argue back, but was immediately cut off by a scythe floating at his throat. The curved blade pressed against his skin, and if he moved the slightest bit it would cut. He gulped, eyeing the teddy bear figure dangling on its end with fearful confusion.

“If you finish that sentence I’ll kill you.” Jennie said lowly, lips tugging into a wide grin. She had enough of him— enough to the point she’ll kill him in front of everyone right now. Areim went too far bringing up her brother. Which everyone knows shouldn’t be spoken of because he’s long gone.

It only takes a single slice of a Grim Reaper’s Scythe to sever an Angel's head.

Would you like to continue?

#biscuitblinkeu #blackpink x reader #fanfic #blackpink #fem reader #jennie x reader #rosé x fem!reader #jennie x fem!reader #park chaeyoung x reader #rosé x reader #somethingpeculiar.biscuit

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mysticalsoot · 6 months

Text

connor's godverse [source material]

godverse/godbur taglist; @lillylvjy @witheredroseanon @enanon (msg/ask if you wanna be added!)

due to the recent popularity, my autism latching to this au and the few requests to let others dabble in it themselves; I've decided to make this central post of the godbur-verse and all it has to offer. you may use godbur or goddess!wilma and write them how you wish but do credit me mainly because I want to see what others create with my ideas!! that is all, now enjoy my tism vomit.

main masterlist // godverse masterlist

meet wilbur and wilma, our characters in this story of power and love and god-like shenanigans. the two of them are godly twins who rule their respective sectors in their shared world. they're an unlikely match, almost polar opposites; but not quite.

WILBUR; the cat

strong-willed and fairminded; colder on the exterior but with a heart two sizes too big.

visually 27 yrs old // queer leaning // autistic coded // less present with believers // 6'7" tall

wilbur rules the left sector of the golden realm. he focuses on doing right with his devotees, guiding them on the path of what's right and moral, keeping them from going astray. he keeps his relationships professional and has yet to drift from that rule.

wilbur has many rules he holds himself to, but most of them are one's he's given himself; in fear he would fall from his holiness if he did not. there is nothing to fall to. what he knows is what is there.

he keeps piles of journals filled with every thought and idea he's ever had, most are to himself. most aren't very kind. he keeps his rules listed in one specific journal. one he's decorated with painted doodles on the front and flowers pressed in the pages.

wilbur keeps great distance between himself and his believers. his golden rule being;

'distance is good for the start, when it will end in distance too'

he fears attachment will wreck his thoughts and deem him unrulable if he was to ever lose a mortal he grew attached to. regardless if it's a common tradition for a mortal to be assumed by their god.

that is cut short when one particular mortal catches his eye and captures his heart with their love and kindness and appreciation for what he's given them.

his first rule he broke, was close communication. there was something about this one mortal that his mind cling to, and they seemed very keen on him too. they weren’t in any belief of any god in particular until he claimed them (get your mind out of the gutter).

little did he know, they would take to it as well as they did. they enjoyed his company and his words and guidance. reaching for his metaphorical hand to lead them to the best outcome. they trusted him, he was trusted. he’d be lying if he said he didn’t break the next rule soon after.

falling in love. he was enraptured by them, and their continuous devotion to him, doing all they could to see him. to be with him. to be by him for as long as they can. to stay living in his world.

despite his growing love for this sweet one, wilbur had to cast them out, back to their life. they were meant to be mortal and he couldn’t let his emotions get in the way of what’s meant to be.

when he finally awarded his mortal with a life in his realm; he felt his shoulders lighten and a big weight of worry lift from him. they were safe with him, even if it meant he broke his golden rule amongst many other rules. he finally understood when people said they would do anything for their love, because he’d do just that for them.

wilbur like any other god, adorns both fangs and white feathered wings. he can retract them at any moment he wishes, and often chooses to hide them; especially around his mortal. he doesn't want to scare or overwhelm them so he keeps those features to himself.

the left sector is the home of the eldest twin. the one with moral responsibility who doesn’t stray from the rules unless prompted, and even then he fights back. the world is covered in sunlight and flowers. a beautiful garden at the back door of wilbur’s home. a place to write and be quiet and play music and just be. where butterflies and bees and animals roam and scurry on the grass and through the fields, where one can admire what is around them without worry of what could be happening. a safe haven.

WILMA; the dove

laid back and relaxed counterpart to wilbur; the divine feminine

visually 27 years old // mtf, feminine preference // autistic/adhd coded // hyper diligent with believers // 6'3"

wilma rules the right sector, the world of beauty and art and femininity. she focuses on bringing love and art to her believers, showing them what beauty is in the world; especially if they hadn’t viewed it in such a way before.

wilma has closer relationships with her believers, not upholding herself to the same strict standards as her brother holds himself. she believes that each person deserves to have a heart and hand reach out to them, pulling them into a hug and away from danger.

through wilma's art you’ll find the many attachments she’s had to her believers but never once giving in. they must have the best mortal life possible, and she can’t meddle with that. it would be unfair to them, cruel even.

her golden rule is this;

‘you must leave them be, even if the heart screams otherwise, let them free like doves must be’

so she paints and she sculpts and her emotions end up seeping into her every piece, and each piece has its place in her home. unlike her brother, her work in creativity is more inline with what she thinks and feels rather than lists of rules and thoughts and worries. she’s a brighter being, sunnier and lighter. she finds peace in everything.

sketchbooks and canvases and have finished sculptures line the halls of her home, making it here through her efforts in the arts.

although her efforts to not let her attachments get the best of her are fruitful for a while, there is (as always) one mortal who causes her to break her only rule. one with a beautiful heart and mind that always finds the sweetness in nature and those around them. someone spiritually equal to her that she can care for and love on and be inspired by.

she grew closer and closer to this mortal, their shared attachment to one another grew into a deep and loving bond, that left the other with a feeling of emptiness when they couldn't have the other.

wilma fought her desire to bring this mortal to her, wanting them to have the best life in their own world they possibly could. she couldn't even dare disrupt it. they could do so much! so much, without wilma.

she fought herself and her mind and her heart, for months it was aching for her mortal. she needed them, but she couldn't give in. her mortal reached out to her many times, without response as she struggled to justify bringing them to her.

finally, after watching her brother give in to his own wants, she does the same. it isn't all that bad, and what's the worst that could happen? her mortal doesn't like it in her world? she could send them back! they'll be happy either way.

so she brought them to her, and they were finally together. her muse was with her, in front of her eyes and in the flesh.

wilma and her mortal spent their days in the flower fields and ponds, embracing and giggling and admiring one another. adoring each other and their flaws and beauties.

as with wilbur, and any other god; wilma has the same fangs and wings. she doesn't choose to hide them as her brother does, keeping them on display, besides when she met her mortal; best not to scare them off.

she takes great pride in her appearance and her special features, showing them off 90% of the time. they don't bother her mortal, so she keeps them on display and she tries her best to show them off.

the right sector is home to the feminine, the beauty and the art of nature. creativity, divinity seep into the ground of this sector. ponds and rivers and fields of flowers adorn this world and make it what it is. it's a safety net for creatives who don't feel there's a place to belong in their own world. a safe haven.

its euphoric in its sights and aesthetics, tunnels covered in vines and flowers, water flowing beneath it. golden light covers the sights in a blanket of love and peace that wilma admires greatly.

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wooahaes · 1 year

Text

crisp edges and bows

pairing: non-idol!seungmin x gn!reader

prompt: wrapping paper

word count: ~0.4k

warnings: n/a just seungmin bein a lil pouty.

daisy’s notes: fun fact.... i hate wrapping presents lmao im so bad at it. it does give me a chance to bust out the snoopy wrapping paper tho. one day i’ll be good at it hopefully <3

“I don’t like this wrapping paper. It’s ugly.”

You watched Seungmin frown at the paper he was specifically wrapping Minho’s present in. The two of you had bought a pack that included one with cats decorating it, and you had thought that Minho would like the kitty one more than the puppy one you had used to wrap Chris’s present in already--and the one you were about to wrap Hyunjin’s present in. You pressed your lips together as you watched Seungmin roll the roll of paper against the floor, bringing it back with his fingers.

He was practically sulking a little, not making eye contact with you at all. “You’re treating Minho like your boyfriend, picking out different paper like that.... What about the others? What are they going to think when they see Minho gets special paper?”

“Are you jealous?”

He looked up, giving you a sharper look that confirmed your suspicions. “If we’re giving Minho special paper, then we have to give everyone special paper. He can deal with the puppies.”

“Then wrap Jisung and Jeongin’s presents in the kitty paper,” you said, looking back down at the careful way you were folding the paper over Hyunjin’s present. You’d admittedly gone a little basic and just bought him some art supplies you’d seen him eyeing up the last time you accompanied him to the store, only to choose against it in the end. “And Felix’s, if you want. It’s not that important.”

“But what about my present?”

“I can’t wrap myself in puppy wrapping paper for you, Seungmin.”

Immediately you were hit with a bow. “Stop teasing me like that!” He huffed, looking away. “You’re lucky I put up with your dumb jokes.” He reached for the scissors to set on the other side of his leg.

“Who said I was joking?”

Another bow hit you immediately. But you could see him smiling at your laughter, and turned your attention back to wrapping the box set on the floor in-between your legs. “I already wrapped your present while you were at work. Both of them--”

“Both?!”

You looked up, holding the wrapping paper down as you blindly reached for the tape. “Yeah? I got you something to unwrap at Chris’s party and something to unwrap here. It’s not a big deal.”

Seungmin pushed the tape into your hand. “What if I only got you one thing?”

“That’s fine,” you said.

“Is it?”

“It is,” you reaffirmed. You already could hear the gears turning in his head. “You’re not going to guess it.”

He let out a long sigh. “Fiiine. You won’t guess what I got you, though.” He paused. The sound of scissors gliding through paper filled the air. “Use the white and gold ribbon for Hyunjin’s.”

(Seungmin just sighed in relief when you agreed instead of trying to guess. The matching rings he’d bought for you--prettier than the pair you bought when the two of you first started dating--would still be safe until he could pull you aside at Chris’s party.)

taglist: @twancingyunhao

#wooahaes.dec22 #wooahaes.fic #skz imagines #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #skz x you #stray kids imagine #skz fics #stray kids fics #seungmin x reader #kim seungmin x reader #kim seungmin fluff #kim seungmin x you

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car-sounds · 21 days

Text

Woven Together

(I'm taking request btw, please I need more ideas)

Arcturus x (GN)reader

2nd person

799 words

Summary: Arcturus and you buy yarn together to knit and crochet sweaters for each other.

Arcturus and you had been assigned by Spica to go downtown to buy desserts for an upcoming banquet. It was from the same bakery as usual so Arcturus already knew what to order. The bakery was a bit busier than usual that day so they couldn’t get the order done as fast as they usually do and told you to come back in an hour to pick up the order. You suggested using that extra time to take a look at the shops downtown.

Arcturus agreed and sent Spica a message notifying him about the delay before leading you out the bakery door. Since he has still yet to show you every part of downtown he led the way and showed you around a few stores. You're both having fun browsing around until you get to one specific store Arcturus wanted to show you. Turns out in the months he hadn’t been to the store it was replaced. A yarn store is what took its place, and while you were both a little disappointed you thought you might as well take a look since you're already out there.

The moment you both walked into the shop with its warm lighting and wooden decor you could feel the coziness radiating. You had both talked about your interests in fiber arts but seeing Arcturus giddy as he starts to browse through the selection certainly confirms it.

He turns to speak to you, “They have so many options, I want to buy something but I don’t think I can decide on what.”

“I’m feeling the same way. Maybe we could try and pick things out to make each other sweaters.”

“Oh, that sounds fun! Alright, I think it will be easier to pick something I think you would like.”

“We should probably be quick about this so we can be on time to pick up the desserts at the bakery. So I’ll need to start choosing right away.”

It had been about 5 minutes before Arcturus finished shopping and joined you by your side again. He’s picked out beautiful soft looking yarns that are in your favorite color combinations.

“Have you picked out your colors yet?”

“Almost! You can go and wait by the cash register and I'll be there in a few minutes”

He nodded and walked off to wait for you. Like you said I didn't take much longer for you to find the right colors and materials.

You go to the front of the shop, and Arcturus is gleefully chatting with the shopkeeper while he waits.

“Mc, are you done?”

“Yeah, I hope you like what I picked,” from the look on his face you could tell he was happy with your choice.

Once the yarn was all chosen and paid you two had just enough time to get back to the bakery and pick up the desserts. During the walk there you talked about fits and styles of sweaters so you both could make something you knew the other would like.

The desserts got picked up and brought to Contell safely. Arcturus looked quite excited to tell you that he'd be free all evening to knit and crochet together, he needed to finish a few more things for the upcoming banquet so you part ways until then.

Later that night, not too long after dinner you get a knock on your door. It was Arcturus, knitting needles and yarn in hand. You both agreed to bring your supplies outside to one of the gardens since the weather was nice.

There were plenty of free benches placed along the garden path so you could sit down and get started. The air is cool and refreshing, Arcturus and you talk about whatever comes to your mind until it gets too dark to see what you're working on. Not much of the sweaters got finished for either of you but you both agreed to work on the projects during your free time and make time to crochet and knit together like this again.

Eventually, after months filled with knitting and crochet dates the sweaters were finished. Even though you both knew pretty much exactly what each sweater looked like, you both decided to present the gifts all wrapped up. Arcturus had his gift in a box wrapped with colorful wrapping paper and a bow, similar to how you wrapped up your gift.

He opened yours first and his smile widened when he saw it. He immediately tossed the sweater on hugging and thanking you before passing his sweater your way.

You do the same as Arcturus and put the sweater on before thanking him. It was cozy, soft, and warmed you up. The contagious joy was radiating off of Arcturus’s face and you both spent the rest of the night chatting.

#arcana twilight fics #arcana twilight #arcana twilight arcturus #arcana twilight x reader #arcana twilight arcky #arcana twilight Arcturus x reader

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callsign-phoenix · 2 years

Note

Can you do headcanons where the reader is pregnant & divorced when she learnt she's pregnant (because her husband didn't want a child) and whole team (or any specific character, whichever you want) helps her for decorating the baby room

Thank you so much for the request, dear anon!

First off I want to say that I was thinking of them having feelings for you but not having acted on them yet in these scenarios.

Thank you so much to @topguncortez for beta-reading!

Hangman

-okay so Hangman in this scenario has actual feelings and you are vulnerable pregnant and on your own, so he won’t give too much of his feelings away

-I don’t think he’s the type to go out of his way to show you what he’s feeling

-he’d be scared to scare you/discourage you from feeling safe in his presence

-so he will try to make it seem like a thing a friend would do while bottling those intense feelings up, making sure he can provide as much comfort as he could

-he’d definitely be great with helping, he’ll go shopping with you and make a few jokes as well to cheer you up, giving you as much of his free time as possible

-he’s not capable of choosing anything for the bedroom so he doesn’t make suggestions, but he will support everything you choose and he will not allow you to carry even the smallest thing

-he does all the heavy lifting and still asks if you’re okay occasionally, but that’s all he allows himself to do

-you’re very grateful for his help and make food and drinks for him, the two of you having a few intimate dinners that were still labeled as dinners between friends

-he gives you a few longing glances but that’s all, he gives you all of his attention and asks a lot about you, but very unlike him he doesn’t flirt a bit

Rooster

-Rooster will try to be the dad of the kid, he will immediately jump into father mode

-I don’t know why but I really feel like he wants to fill the gap that is left in your life and give you everything you need, and I mean everything

-it’s an instinct, he doesn’t even think about it, he just behaves like a boyfriend

-he didn’t have a dad for the most part growing up so he instinctively jumps into that role, before the baby is even born

-you haven’t talked about your feelings for each other but he’s so wrapped up in your needs that he just acts without thinking

-he goes shopping with you, giving you suggestions and joking around, holding you by the waist, caressing it and having everyone think you’re a couple

-he doesn’t do it on purpose, he just wants to help you so much

-he will try to do what you’re not capable of but he also wants you to feel capable of doing things on your own, so he tries to find small things for you to work on

-he will also do most of the work but you don’t realise it as much as with Hangman, and Rooster is an open book about his feelings

-he gently flirts with you and tells you about his feelings after a successful day of work, but he also says he doesn’t want to pressure you

Bob

-I think he’d surprise us in his sincerity in wanting to be there for you

-you’d think shy Bob wouldn’t get his act together and couldn’t tell you he likes you but no

-he’s there from minute one, taking care of you and actively showing you that

-he’s careful and definitely not flirty per say, but the way he looks at you and interacts with you says it all

-he watches you all the time to make sure you’re alright and he occasionally pipes up to ask if you’re doing well

-he doesn’t only look at you longingly but the way he touches you so carefully says everything you need to know as well, a gentle smile lingering on his lips when he lets his hand run up and down your arm absentmindedly

-he’s there to help you pick up things for the baby and he actually has great taste

-he also does all he can to build the nursery, he asks you not to exhaust yourself

-he has the guts to tell you how he feels

-“I like you. And I’d like to properly take care of you and your baby”

-you’re surprised and tell him you’re not expecting it of him but he won’t be deterred

Phoenix

-Phoenix is more like Hangman in the sense that she’s silently pining, but she’s pining in a way that you can notice

-she tries her best and gives you space but she will stare and get lost in watching you do something trivial

-she doesn’t actively say how she feels but when you catch her staring at you multiple times with such adoration in her eyes you start putting two and two together

-she’s mesmerised by you and the way you look pregnant, Phoenix isn’t one to seem vulnerable but she looks like a deer every time she sees you

-you go shopping together like friends would but the moment you’re concentrated on choosing something she will secretly watch you

-she’s a strong girl, so much like most of the boys she will carry everything, no matter what you say

-she does the heavy lifting and she builds the crib and cupboards, maybe even rolling up the sleeves of her t-shirt, which makes you gulp

-you order something to eat after you finish working and drink a few (in your case virgin) beers

-honestly the two of you have such a relaxed atmosphere that you feel comfortable sharing everything, and you tell her about how you’ve been feeling lately

-she immediately reassures you that it’s alright and she tells you how she feels, with the two of you deciding on trying out a relationship

tagging: @wildbornsiren @mayhem24-7forever @green-socks @hederasgarden @letsfvckingdance @a-reader-and-a-writer @yespolkadotkitty @peaches-1999 @oliviah-25 @natasharomanoffisbaebby @luckyladycreator2 @aprilfire18 @simping4wanda

(please tell me if you want to be added to the taglist, or use this link)

#natasha phoenix trace x reader #natasha phoenix trace x you #natasha phoenix trace headcanons #robert bob floyd headcanons #robert bob floyd x you #robert bob floyd x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin headcanons #jake hangman seresin x you #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw headcanons #top gun headcanons

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pollenallergie · 8 months

Note

okay my heart is so full right now not only reading your response to my last ask but also the one someone sent in about girls who dress like art teachers bc that’s what i’m studying to do (early ed specifically) and also exactly how i dress 🥺 so i have a million things to say (i’m horny and i need billy to fuck me from behind so bad) so today my brain is absolutely DECAYING with the idea of billy with a wife who teaches. like i imagine billy struggles to have a consistent job because of his anxiety so he mostly does freelance carpentry work for the rich and bored, and so when he finds out you’re a teacher, he’s so excited to hear about your days teaching, what the training was like, and theories behind education. he loves to make you packed lunches and will sometimes drop by to see you during your lunch period if you aren’t busy wrangling kids. he says it’s because he misses you, which is true, but something about watching you in your element fills his heart (and cock) with so much love and longing. especially if you work with young kids, he can’t help imagining you taking care of his brood of calf eyed babies. when you have a bad day (which is rare), he’ll sit and rub your shoulders or your feet and just listen to you. your experience helping students with trauma allows you to take care of him quite gracefully, and he’s always excited to demo activities for your lessons. while you help him choose outfits that are good for carpentry and impressive for the client base he serves, he helps you pick out flowing skirts and tweed jackets and chunky sweaters. i also have a headcanon that he learned to do hair really well when he was younger in group homes even if he has no clue how to take care of his own, so he loves to sit with you kneeling on the floor as he braids and brushes your hair. every year, as a gift to you for the anniversary of your first date, he makes you something new for your classroom. there are other gifts for other anniversaries, like each year on your wedding anniversary he takes you out for dinner and surprises you with an activity like special museum events or visiting farms after hours which i’ll expand on in another ask, but you especially adore the things he makes you. one year he made you new cubbies for the kids, another year he carved you little animals to sit on your desk, the gifts ranging from practical to decorative. each one you displayed proudly on open house nights, and billy even got some clients through your avid displays of his gifts(he shows up to each open house in his nicest sweater that you chose to bring out his eyes). billy definitely has a bit of kink for you teaching him things, not even just sexual things. he gets bricked up by you explaining to him how to use the new remote for the tv or you lecturing him about separating the darks from the lights in the washing machine. you use that to your advantage to help motivate him, knowing that he’ll beg in a small voice for you to help him and guide him. when you first showed him how you liked to be touched so he would know just what to do, he came in his underwear the minute he touched you and you moaned what a good job he was doing. although he’s gotten more advanced in the sack (having almost daily sex will do that to you), he loves to play dumb and let you guide his hands or instruct him on how to touch his own cock because he loves the way you praise him (i’m not that into teacher roleplay, so i think this is a healthy medium). anyways, i have wayyy more thoughts about billy, especially pure filth and billy as a carpenter, that i might send over later. thank you for being so responsive and i’m super excited to continue bouncing feral thoughts off of each other! -🍊

warning: feral ramblings below the cut. read at your own risk. viewer discretion is advised. blah dee blah dee blahdee blah. 18+ as always. mdni.

awww you’re studying to be an art teacher!!! that’s amazing!! art teachers (especially the eccentric ones) are the best, istg!! in elementary school, my art teacher submitted a handprint painting i did to my hometown’s art competition and it won best painting in my age division which was nuts and was also the first time anything of mine had been celebrated by someone other than my parents… also my art teacher in high school let me eat lunch in her office every day because the crowded cafeteria made me nervous AND she once yelled at the assistant principal and dean of students (on my behalf) because she felt they weren’t doing enough to help me with my bullying issues. oh, and she also gave the coordinated caricatures my friend and i did in her class (mine was guy fieri with a giant ass head driving in the front seat of his convertible, and my friend’s was harambe with a gigantic head and a halo reclining in the back seat of the convertible… we literally measured all the lines and our papers to make sure that our pictures would line up perfectly) an A even though what we drew was definitely not what we were assigned (we were told to draw portraits of historical figures that we admire)… so yeah i fucking love art teachers 🫶🫶 genuinely some of the best people i have ever met.

—

also “(i’m horny and i need billy to fuck me from behind so bad)”

first of all… same

second of all… he absolutely would, but he’d prefer to do it in front of a mirror so that he can still see your pretty face (the man has needs) <3

—

(i know you said billy’s wife… but for my purposes, we’re gonna pretend you said long-term partner/girlfriend because, let’s be real here, billy wouldn’t need to yearn for having kids with you if he was your husband… because he definitely would’ve knocked you up within mere months of being married to you, if not literally on your wedding night or during your honeymoon, so like… that would just already be his reality lmao).

—

billy would absolutely love that his significant other is a teacher 🥹🥹🥹 especially if you’re an art teacher because billy is such an artsy lil man.

i feel like billy himself always wanted to be a teacher growing up — specifically a primary school teacher because he gets on surprisingly well with young kids (preteens and teenagers scare the living shit out of him) — but he was never in the right state of mind to go to school to pursue that dream. so, he definitely loves that you’re one.

billy listens so attentively when you talk about how your day went each night because 1) he could listen to you talk for hours as is and 2) he’s genuinely interested in what you did that day. you’re totally right about him asking about what your training was like and wanting to discuss various theories on education with you.

truthfully, billy sort of lives vicariously through you. for example, no matter what subject you teach, billy will always offer to help you grade assignments, so you’ve gotten used to making extra copies of the answer keys for him (or, if you’re an art teacher, you’ve gotten used to making an extra copy of the instructions so that he can see how closely each student followed your directions… not that it truly matters, you mostly grade based on how students behave during class because art is art and you would never dare tell a kid they made bad art, you wouldn’t even dare to think it, you sweet angel, you… okay you might think it sometimes… but only when some of the year 6 kids turn in shit that looks like it was drawn by a blindfolded drunkard who lacked any tactile perception). he has pictures of you at work, most sourced from your school’s website, printed out, and posted all over his art studio (aka the spare bedroom you two converted into a makeshift art studio) and one or two in his wallet as well. billy knows all of your students’ names; he knows which ones give you the most trouble, he knows who the underdogs are (the students who don’t do so well in school, but who you root for unconditionally because you know they’re good kids), he knows which kids have more artistic talent jam-packed in their little bodies than they know what to do with, hell, he even knows about the two year 6 (5th grade) students that have this sort of will-they-won’t-they thing going on. billy even helps you set up your classroom before each school year starts and, then, he helps you take everything down when the year ends. he helps you pick out decor and supplies for your classroom, he helps you pick out movies for the kids to watch on special movie days, he helps you pick out holiday decorations and themed snacks and games for your classroom holiday parties, he helps you with everything simply because he wants to be involved because he loves what you do just as much as you love it.

growing up, my elementary school always had back-to-school picnics at the start of the year so that kids could check out their new classrooms and meet their teachers before the first day of school. they also had end-of-the-year events where parents could get advice about how to best help their kids prepare for the next school year (mostly just getting summer reading lists and any additional info about the school-recommend and/or school-run summercare options available in their local community) and where kids could see their friends one last time before summer began. so, if your school does those sorts of events too, then you bet your ass that billy willingly goes to both of those events. truthfully, billy attends any event hosted by the school for the families in the community. for instance, my elementary school used do this thing called trunk-or-treat, where parents and teachers would sign up beforehand and then, the night of, they would park in the school’s parking lots with the trunks of their cars opened up and all decked out for halloween, and kids would walk around with their friends and parents and visit everyone’s cars and get candy from each car and eat way too much of it that night and then burn off their sugar rush on the school playground 😂😂 it was amazing and so soooo cute. if your school does something like that, then billy signs up every single year, and every year the two of you have so much fun putting your hearts and souls into decorating the trunk of your car. in fact, you two have even won best-trunk-in-show for the last two years because you’re just that good.

and, you’re so right, billy probably does something like freelance carpentry or making stuff to sell on etsy, something to give him some income but also something that won’t demand too much of him; because he will have bad days, days where he can’t work, days where he can’t function right, days where he just needs to stay home and focus on getting better.

of course, billy’s relaxed, self-employed schedule does come with an added bonus: he’s able to take care of you the way he wants to. you’re totally right about him making you packed lunches; he makes you the bestest packed lunches ever. they’re not just regular packed lunches, no, billy makes you the most aesthetically pleasing bento boxes anyone has ever seen, chalked full of the tastiest foods he can make. he doesn’t make them for you every day (mostly because you’re stubborn and won’t let him dote on you as much as he wants to… which, in your defense, is because you feel like it’s not fair to him since you don’t have time to put that much effort into reciprocating/doting on him in return), but he makes a point to pack your lunch three out of five days of the week. the other two days are usually ones where he allows you to fend for yourself because he knows you like your independence sometimes. notice i said “usually”… because, yeah, billy just can’t help himself, he wants to spoil you so bad. so, sometimes he breaks the rules, grabbing a couple yummy dishes from your favorite takeaway place and surprising you at work with a delicious meal that the two of you can share. once a month, when you’re on cafeteria/canteen duty, this means that he has to sit at a very short table (one that was absolutely not designed with anyone over 14 in mind), his knees pressing uncomfortably into the bottom of the table as he eats lunch mostly by himself — except for when you take little breaks to sit and talk to him — whilst he watches you monitor the gigantic room with the help of only one other faculty member; the two of you occasionally reprimanding kids to keep them in line and helping the littlest among them open certain packaged items, making sure lunchtime runs smoothly. on days where you’re not on cafeteria/canteen duty, billy only has to endure the “oohs” and “ahhs” and curious, lingering stares of inquisitive (nosey) schoolchildren for a few minutes before the kids are sent off to the cafeteria/canteen to eat their own lunches, leaving you and him alone in your classroom to enjoy your meal and spend some quality time together.

billy’s definitely very introverted, but he goes above and beyond to be involved in your life, especially in your work and the community that surrounds it. he genuinely enjoys getting to know your coworkers and the parents of your students. but, like you said, what he loves most of all is watching you interact with the kids… even when they are all paying him entirely too much attention and asking him entirely too many and entirely too personal questions (“are you and miss ____ married?” “when are you and miss ____ gonna get married?” “do you have babies?” “why does your face look like that?” “if miss ____ gets to bring you to school, how come i can’t bring my lizard?”). like you said, watching you interact with your students, especially the littles, gives him such a warm, fuzzy, lovely feeling. he can’t help but imagine how kind and gentle and patient you’d be with kids of your own… kids that were created with and born out of the love the two of you have for each other… kids that have his beautiful brown eyes, the very same ones he inherited from his late mother, and dimples just like his, but that have your pretty hair and your beaming grin…

yeahhh, he wants so badly to have kids with you, and that nagging desire only gets stronger everytime he watches your face light up as you watch one your students finally get something (whether that be how to draw a three-dimensional shape or how to tie their shoes or how to spell the word ‘definitely’), everytime he watches you gently console a kid who fell and scraped his knees at recess, and everytime he catches you having a conversation with one of your students. the way you converse with your studfents is so special… you talk to them like they’re your equals no matter how old they are, treat them with the utmost respect, regard them with warm acceptance and empathy, subtly encourage them to be themselves to the fullest, and take genuine interest in what they’re telling you. these are all the things his dad never did for him, all the things his mum never got the chance to do because she passed while he was still so young, all the things he watched his classmates’ parents do for them as a young boy, and watching you do these things for your students makes him fall even more hopelessly in love with you. watching you be such a good teacher to your students, such a wonderful role model for them, fills him with so much joy, and, as much as he gets embarrassed about it, thinking about how lovely you are, how amazing you are with kids, how wonderful of a mum you’ll be one day, well... that never fails to get him hard. breeding kink go brrrrr.

anyways… yeah YEAHH he does give you shoulder and foot rubs because he loves you and he cares about you and he likes doting on you (an added bonus is that you always return the favor whenever he’s been hard at work all day, but that’s not why he does it. no, he does it because he’s amazing and he loves you and he likes taking care of you).

yes yes yes to him demoing activities with you. that is literally all your sunday’s consist of during the school year: demoing activities, grading whatever assignments you didn’t finish grading during the week (usually not that many), and doing any last minute lesson-plan-prepping together, all from the comfort of your couch (or from your kitchen whenever the activities are too messy to be done on the couch), and billy wouldn’t have it any other way. he loves your not-so-lazy-but-still-plenty-lazy sundays, the kind of days where you two get a lot done without really feeling like you’ve done anything at all.

about the outfits…

mhm mhm yep yep. you help him pick out comfy, but practical outfits for himself; pants with lots of pockets, a tool belt that can hold his tools without sagging too low on his hips, shirts that will keep him warm but that are still plenty breathable, clothes that won’t get caught on any nails or other objects protruding from walls, shoes with thick soles so he won’t get hurt if he accidentally steps on a nail or some glass, splinter-proof gloves, etc. and billy helps you pick out the cutest items imaginable whenever you two go thrifting/shopping together; cute jean overalls for casual fridays, midi skirts that are dressy enough for work but still comfortable, sweaters that will keep you plenty warm whenever the heater in your classroom breaks for days on end during the cold winter months (as it always does), shoes that are cute but comfy enough to wear for the entire school day (without getting blisters or horribly sore soles), jackets and pants and blouses that are professional and classy enough to wear to parent-teacher conferences but that still have that artsy, hippie-esque look to them that you love so much.

also yes yes YESSS TO THE HAIR BRUSHING!!! (and to the group homes headcanon. unfortunately, he was probably stuck with his bullshit excuse for a dad for much of his childhood, but, during his teen years, after his third hospitalization in the span of a year, the system stepped in and removed him from his home, uprooting his life and bouncing him around from group home to group home. billy thinks he probably shouldn’t look back so fondly on the years in which he was separated from his family, but he sort of does. sure, it lacked the stability all kids need and it forced him to not only hang out with, but live with his peers, even those who picked on him. however, it’s not like he’d ever had real, true stability in the first place and… well, the taunting of a fifteen-year-old asshole who has it just as bad as you will never ever compare to the vitriol his father and his brother used to subject him to).

anyways *clears throat* sorry about that. where were we?? oh the hair brushing and braiding, yes, yes. yet another way billy takes care of you: he helps you tame the unruly bird’s nest that is your hair every morning. you’re terrible at doing your own hair (massive self-insert here) and always have been, and billy, beautiful, kind billy, he mercifully (and frequently) takes that responsibility out of your hands in the mornings and does your hair for you. it’s not an everyday occurrence, but it happens a lot, so much so that he’s actually gotten quite good at using a curling iron, despite the fact that he’d never ever used one (or even held one) prior to being in a relationship with you.

but don’t worry, you dote on him plenty in return. when he gets home from a hard day’s work, you’re quick to take a shower with him, helping him wash off (which is really just you massaging the soapy suds into his skin because you love the way he reacts to it, all fucked out and in pure bliss even though you haven’t even touched his cock yet), you’ll *ehm* take care of him in there too, of course (*cough* jerking him off under the warm spray *cough* littering his pale skin with hickeys as you pump his cock with your fist *cough* letting him use your hand like a fleshlight *cough* helping support him to keep him upright when he starts getting all weak in the knees *cough* making him feel so good that he reaches his peak in mere minutes, cumming all over your tummy, the last of his spend coating your hands as you work him through his orgasm *cough* *cough*). then, once you two have finished cleaning up, you get out and help him dry off his hair with a soft, fluffy towel. once you’ve both dried of sufficiently, you then lay him down on the bed and deftly massage him, focusing on his back, and legs, and arms, and, okay, everywhere, focusing everywhere, working the sweet smelling lotion into his skin as you do so. you even rub some soothing balm on his calloused hands and feet afterwards, fully pampering him. then, you ride him within an inch of his life and let him fill you up with his second release of the evening. and then, you two order in some dinner and eat it whilst watching TV. finally, you two head to bed, where you then have sleepy, slow, passionate sex before falling asleep in each other’s arms, his softening cock still nestled inside you as you drift off to sleep.

also billy making something for your classroom as your anniversary gift 🥹🥹💖💖💖 he most definitely does.

the first year, it was a cute little wooden sign with the words “Miss ____’s Class” engraved on it, along with some cute little bunnies and butterflies and flowers, complete with the cutest lil curvy bordering. then, for your second anniversary, it was a carved wooden statue of your favorite animal. next, for your third anniversary, he went above and beyond and made you a bunch of cubbies for your students to keep their art-smocks/backpacks/other stuff in. however, they weren’t just normal cubbies, no, they had this beautiful elven forest-y pattern carved into them. for that anniversary he also made you a brand new drying rack that had this really cool elven tree design to it to match the cubbies, because, again, he went above and beyond that year simply because he felt like it. then for your most recent anniversary, billy made the most adorable rocking chair for you to sit in while you read to your students/while you man whatever artistic contraptions the kids aren’t allowed to use without constant supervision/while you drink your tea and catch up on grading or lesson-planning during your afternoon free period. and, of course, the chair also had a forest-y, elven design to it because billy fully supports your dream of turning your boring old classroom into a mystical, fantastical place for learning — a sort of elven den of creativity. for christmas one year, he even whittled you a bunch of wands and scepters and attached cool, surprisingly realistic plastic geodes and crystals to the ends of them so that you could decorate your classroom with them and add to the mystical, magical vibes. suffice to say, you have the coolest classroom in school, hands down, no competition.

also yes yes yes, a million times yes to billy having a sort of teaching kink. the man gets so unreasonably turned on when you try to show him how to do things or explain things to him. no matter what you’re trying to teach him, his blood always immediately flows south, towards his hardening his cock and away from his head, leaving nothing more than the sound of white noise and the desire to submit himself to you in every way imaginable behind in his brain. he loves listening to you and having you tell him what to do (not in a bossy way, but in a guiding, gentle way), he goes mad for it. the way your voice lilts when you’re patiently instructing him on how to do something once again after he’s already messed up five times beforehand makes billy go dumb with lust. having you teach him things doesn’t always make him so dumb and pitifully horny, though. no, there’s levels to this. when you try to teach him to do simple tasks like how to un-jam the door to your mailbox or explain simple things to him like why you’re suddenly buying an entirely new brand of peanut butter (because it turns out your usual brand uses some preservative that has recently been linked to some awful health defects… which you found out by reading an article in some widely accredited medical journal because you’re a nerd, a well-informed nerd), he gets a little excited, maybe gets a half-chub, nothing too drastic, nothing that can’t simply be tucked up into his waistband and ignored until it goes down, should that be necessary. but when you try to walk billy through more complex tasks, the kind that he usually messes up the first few times which leads to you giving in and gently directing his every move… oof. like when he helps you decorate your christmas tree and you, ever the perfectionist, direct him on exactly where to put each and every single ornaments, how to string up the lights so they’re the perfect level of droopy without actually falling off the tree, how to secure the star to the top of the tree, how to water and tend to the christmas tree you two picked out at a christmas tree farm as it resides in your living room, hanging onto whatever life it’s got left like a plant in a vase after it’s been separated from its roots…. well, having you guide him through those complex, intricately detailed tasks never fails to turn him into the horniest of himbos; fully lustdrunk and so hard that it’s nearly painful. consequently, having the hottest sex imaginable after putting up and decorating your christmas tree is a holiday tradition for you and billy.

also yes to him cumming in his pants the first time you taught him how to make you cum… he probably didn’t even get to actually fuck you that night because, by the time he’d made you cum on his fingers and his tongue, he’d already came so many times that his cock was fully limp and so sensitive that it hurt, truly hurt, whenever it was met with even the tiniest, lightest touch… he had to spend the rest of the night completely nude because he was just too sensitive to wear underwear or trousers and he certainly wasn’t going to walk around with just a shirt on like winnie the fucking pooh.

and you’re right. it’s not like teacher roleplay, it’s just you guiding him and showing him how to do things and explaining things to him and telling him what to do and being so patient and kind and gentle and maybe a little condescending (just a tiny bit, not true degradation, but just talking down to him in a teasing way) but also giving him so sooo much praise. its the most gentle and softest domming of all time and dear christ it makes him feel all fuzzyheaded and spacey and fucked out in the best way possible.

—

please feel free to send over those carpenter!billy thoughts if you want!! i love reading what your amazing mind comes up with. hopefully i’ll be able to respond to the other stuff you’ve sent me sometime soon!! i’ve read them all a million times over, i just haven’t gotten around to actually typing out responses yet… but please know that i enjoy reading them (and rereading them and rereading them and rereading them and then rereading them again and on and on forever until i pass away and ascend to the literal heavens from all the loveliness contained in them… jk but also… they are immaculate.)

send me all the feral thoughts you got, my lovely lil orange nonnie. 💕

#🍊 anon <3 #lovely anons <3 #ask and i shall reply #billy knight #billy knight x reader #billy knight strike #billy knight headcanon #billy knight hc #billy knight headcanons #billy knight hcs #billy knight thoughts #billy knight thots #billy knight au #joseph quinn

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