#{*throws shade at my own muse*}

[uchinagai]

Your endless love - ningning

➢Synopsis: once, teenage sweethearts, y/n and ningning, now meet each other as full-grown adults, expect, one life had to take a different, much harder patch. will they reunite? Or did ningning only return for a different reason?

➢Pairing : CEO!ningning x artist!y/n

➢Genre: angst, fluff but maybe only past... slightly suggestive almost there but a man has to interrupt, I really wanna point out it's angst! but gets better ...?? maybe

➢warnings: heavy topics, such as - suicide, death, arranged marriage or self-hatred, miscommunications, blackmailing, suggestive/smut, mention of a corpse but not g0re, mention of murder/possible murderer, 18+.

➢wk: 5.1k+

➢note: well... kind of inspired by my childhood Turkish drama I forgot the name of but till this day remember the heartbreak my 10-year-old ass went thru. I think that's all I have to say, hope you guys will enjoy it. :3 I'm not the best writer, I do this only for MY pure entertainment. not proofread. will there be pt.2? maybeee...

You lost five years of your life to keep your younger brother free, to save him from going to jail after he accidentally took the life of a woman. Given the choice between covering up his crime and your own freedom, you chose him. You loved your brother dearly, but the cost was far greater than you ever imagined.

They married you off to a man you could hardly stand—a man who seemed obsessed with you, and not in a way that felt like love. Yet, he called himself your husband and flaunted you like a prize that made you disgusted each day that passed. Five years had passed with the weight of that ring around your finger that was more of a rope, tightening taking away air from you.

But now, staring at your brother's pale body lying on the hospital bed, you felt a hollowness eating at your insides. Is this what you meant to waste your five years to?

Your fingers trembled as they traced over the red scar on his neck, feeling your own throat tighten as though a rope was there, suffocating you, too.

He looked ghostly, eyes closed, lips an unnatural shade of blue. You gripped his limp hand, sobbing and begging him to get up. It was all for nothing; your life was ripped apart, sacrificed to save him, only for him to take his own life out of guilt. In his last words, he admitted as much. A note lay beside him, neat and careful, explaining everything. He couldn’t bear the weight of watching you wither under the demands of a loveless marriage, sacrificed to protect him. He couldn’t stand hearing you cry through closed doors as he walked by with food for you, feeling helpless to fix what he had caused. And he couldn’t stand to see your parents throw you away, to a man who saw you only as something to possess. And it mostly saddened him knowing you were only capable of loving a person you met on a bus.

You were just 19, running to a bus you were going to miss at any second. The door closed right into your face as you banged on the door, begging the driver to open it. He did, thankfully. You thanked him as you tried to catch your breath.

‘That was a hard run’ you thought.

You looked around for a seat, but there was none.

‘Great. Just my luck.’

You tried to take a breath as you clutched onto the pole next to you. You set your canvas to a safe place and look around the bus, trying to spot the next muse of your art.

There you lock eyes with a girl. A beautiful one, looking right at you, with slight interest written on her face.

‘Woah she’s pretty’ you thought.

The girl stared back at you, not breaking eye contact. Her blonde hair fell in sleek, straight as it could be, as sunlight hit her eyes from the window. The light color framed her features in a way that made her look effortlessly striking. Her eyes held an intense, yet steady gaze, focused onto you, like you’re the only one in this crowded bus.

Your eyes roamed around, taking in her appearance.

Her lips painted a rich, dark red, stood out beautifully against her fair skin. God, she was pale—not sickly pale, but pale to the point that it was beautiful and reflected light off of her body.

She wore a simple outfit, a denim cropped jacket, with a black tube top perfectly sitting around her body. Her jeans matched her denim jacket.

As you stared, you felt an unfamiliar turn to the left as you broke eye contact that felt like it lasted ages. You looked out the window and realized that the bus you got on was not the one you thought it was, so here you were—going off in the wrong direction.

All you could do was panic and turn to the driver, asking when the nearest stop was. He reassured you it was soon, but you were already late.

It did not take a while to get to the stop, as you rushed off the bus.

But fuck! The canvas!

You turn, seeing the bus already off.

‘What a horrible day to be alive’

You mentally cursed at yourself as you were about to break down till an unfamiliar voice, filled with a sweet tone to it, broke you out of your thoughts.

You open your eyes that you closed due to stress hitting your nerves to be met with the same beautiful face, looking at you with a smile.

“I think you forgot this,” says the stranger as she reaches out your canvas.

‘What a great day to be alive’ you changed your thoughts in a second.

“Oh my god! Thank you so much!!” you say as you grab it and hug the canvas.

The girl giggles at the sight as you sigh.

“I can’t explain how grateful I am”

“It's not a problem, really”

“It should be! You had to get off of your ride to bring this for me”

“Oh yeah…” she says as you both chuckle at her lack of thinking.

“Well, I wasn’t rushing anywhere, seems like you are tho, need help?”

‘Is she an angel sent from the heavens for me?’ you thought as you nodded at her request.

“I was trying to get to my house… but seems like I got on the wrong bus,” you say defeated.

“Where were you headed off to?”

“Cheong-dong..”

It felt like you were rubbing into her that you were from a wealthy family.

The blonde looked at you, slightly taken back but she covered it with a smile.

“And you were trying to take a bus… there?”

You nod.

“Well, I forgot my car keys…”

“Let’s get you there then”

She says as she grabs your wrist without thinking, dragging you along with her back where the bus made a turn.

“So what were you doing out here?”

“I was in my studio... Painting”

“Figured,” she says as she chuckles.

“Oh right, what’s your name… at least got to know what’s the name of a beauty that is about to kidnap me” you say as you both burst into laughing.

“Ningning, it's Ningning, and I'm not gonna kidnap you,” she says as she reassures you. “Yours?”

“y/n”

“Pretty name, just like your face.”

And that is pretty much how it all started. Was it too cheesy to say you both fell in love at first sight? Maybe. But god she had you whipped.

Every little thing she did made you feel butterflies all over. The way she looked at you, waited for you in front of your studio and surprised you with a bunch of balloons attached to your car. How she played music that she loved while doing her homework in your presence. It was a matter of time and you two were official.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away from her. The way her blonde hair fell to her face, the way her nose would scrunch up when she couldn't get the answer right. It made you all fall for her, and she was just as much in love with you.

You would always sketch her at different times while working or writing music. She was beautiful every single time. You mostly loved sketching her while sleeping, that’s when she looked most relaxed and calm, without a care in the world. You were always at her place because you didn’t know how your parents would react to… someone from the lower class.

But it did not matter.

You were in love.

You decided it was a good idea to tell your mom about it since she was always supportive of your decisions in life - painting? She got you a whole studio and the best paints in the world. Music? She installed speakers in the studio to enjoy it. So you told her, and at first, she easily accepted you and supported you.

Till she wasn’t.

You remember it like yesterday, calming your little brother from what he had just done. You couldn't believe it either? Your brother, hurting someone? But before you could even process that, you were pulled by your parents into a security room.

There he was, again. With that smug of his that made you feel uneasy with everything.

He pressed space. And there was your brother, with a gun, laughing and giggling, pointed at the girl. He thought the gun girl brought along for ‘roleplay’ was just a toy till he fired.

He pauses the footage.

“I delete this footage and do not turn it to the police… on one condition”

“Whatever you want!” your mom pleaded.

Then he looked at you and it all clicked. He wanted you. Then you looked at your parents.

Your mom was looking at you full of hope but your dad… He seemed just as against the idea as you were.

“We will have to talk this out first,” Your dad says as your mom looks at him unpleased with his decision.

But there was no point.

Your life was already decided

Now here you stand, watching as they lower the casket as you can only think about Ningning.

Your ‘husband’s’ hand was holding u firm against him. Like he was holding u for support but it suffocated you even more.

You couldn’t even cry, you felt numb. All of those years for what? For him to kill himself because he felt guilty? Bullshit.

As the time passed after the death, you felt yourself grow angrier than sad and the only person to be able to shut it down was Ningning. You kept looking back to old pictures, missing her, her touch, scent, everything.

At some point, you would stalk her socials, and try to keep up with her till she completely vanished from all social media. Her account was up but her last post was when she left back for her home country - china, and that was years ago.

Was she still in China? Did she come back? Does she still live in the same house?

It was another day, staking her dead account which was too much for you because most of the pictures that were posted, were taken by you, so you just went on a night walk by Han River, after another argument with Kai He always found a way to drain you, was it either verbally, physically, or mentally.’

You put on your earphones as you enjoyed the specific scent the water had. It was pretty chilly, so you dressed up warmly, a puffer jacket with a black scarf around your neck, wore simple black baggy jeans, and went on the walk. It calmed you down for sure and music playing in your ears that distracted you from unwanted thoughts.

But you stop in your tracks.

As the music was about to switch and earphones went silent for a few seconds, you heard it.

Honey-dripped voice giggling. All too familiar.

You couldn’t have mistaken that. It was basically recorded in your brain.

You shut your music off in an instant as you start looking around, searching for the familiar blonde hair… but it is nowhere to be seen.

Were you just imagining it?

But there was no way… right?

And then you heard it again, you were not going crazy.

You tried to follow the sound only to be met by a black-haired haired turned away from you. What was going on?

Till you saw it.

That beautiful side profile of hers, her nose scrunched up in laughing.

She went black… you thought as you just stood there, looking but not moving an inch. She was with a bunch of three other girls that you paid no mind to. It was just her, standing in front of you to reach but being so unreachable. Everyone was out of the picture like the world had stopped where it was her voice filling it up.

God knows how long you stayed there, watching, but it definitely caught the other three's attention as they nudged the black haired whispering something to her as she turned her head right at you.

It was like a spark went through you as her smiley gaze landed on you, but it quickly died down as her face dropped.

‘She hates me’ you thought due to her facial expression dropping as you felt tears forming. You wanted to run, hide, and never show yourself but it was like you were stuck in a quicksand, unable to move from your spot.

She stared back right at you till she turned her head towards her friends. Saying something that made them all look at you and then back to her.

You wanted to reach out, call her, touch her, explain yourself, but the lump stuck in your throat made it all impossible.

“Ningning!!” you choked out as she was about to start walking away, making her pause in her tracks making her turn to you, standing what felt like kilometers away. You were at a loss for words… she changed, in a good way, but everything about her was different. The way dressed, the way she did her makeup… the way she looked at you.

The last one hurt the most. Her expression was almost unreadable but it was full of hurt and hatred, and you understood her more than anything. You had no idea what to say to her. You haven’t even planned out how to talk to her, thinking she was still in China.

“Can we talk?” you say after a decade

“What is there to talk about?” she says, almost mocking you. Her honey voice was completely replaced with venom. It hurt but you couldn’t blame the girl either.

But she moved against her words because the next thing you knew, she was walking towards you.

‘What the hell is going on right now?’

“What are you gonna say? I’m sorry I ghosted you? Or are you gonna tell me you’re married, because I already know that, everyone in South Korea knew about y/n l/ns marriage BUT me.”

God, it hurts so bad, you couldn’t respond to her. You just stood there while Ningning looked at you like she hated your guts. It made you feel like you were trapped, with the door right in front of you, but it was locked away.

“Answer me y/n!” She yells, demanding an answer from you, knowing you physically couldn’t utter a word. You choke on your sob as you start crying. All you could do was cry.

As she stood there her scent was right in front of you, all you wanted was to grab her into a hug bury your head into her, and never let her go.

For Ningning it almost felt like an instinct to reach out and cup your face, wipe your tears away, and tell you everything was fine when it wasn’t fine, but she would do anything to stop you from crying in front of her. It ate her from inside as she saw your hand reach up to your face, covering your tears away.

The ring.

It should’ve been her who you were married to, not some guy Kai that she knew very well was from a very well-off family.

“I never meant it to get this bad,” you say between sobs as you fall to your knees in the middle of the bridge.

Ningning instantly went down with you as she held your head.

“What do you mean y/n, for god's sake speak to me at least once. Tell me you don’t actually love me so I can let you go”

That was your biggest fear as you looked up at her and clutched onto her wrist “No! No, that's not true!” You yell, desperate for her as she looks at you. Her eyes slowly welled up with tears as she bit her lower lip.

“You’re making everything harder than it should be y/n…”

“I had to Ningning, I couldn’t pick…-” you say as the lump in your throat chokes you from saying anything else.

“What you couldn’t pick”

“My own future…”

Ningnings heart hurt. She didn’t know what you meant at all but one thing was clear to her - everything was against your own wishes. That was enough for her to grab you into a long overdue hug as she held you tight against her.

You melt into her arms as you wrap your arms around her neck, clutching onto her shirt as you sobbed into her. You two stayed this way for a long time till you finally calmed down and steadily started breathing, enjoying her arms around you.

It made you feel complete.

Like you were missing a part of you, and now that it’s back, you would give anything to keep it with you.

She took you to her new place—one that, to your surprise, was just a street away from your own house so near that you almost thought she got it on purpose to stalk you. You could step into the driveway and you were able to see your own house clearly.

‘Seems like she built herself up’ you thought as you stood out in the driveway, staring at your prison perfectly on display while having a blanket wrapped around you.

The younger girl stepped out with two cups of hot chocolate. As she reached one to you.

You guys left her friends behind as she drove you to hers, even though she knew where you lived. She wanted you to be with her only.

Only then you were gonna be able to tell her everything.

You grabbed the cup and held it with you.

“If you’re wondering, yes. I did buy the house to be close to you.”

You felt it coming. You knew it was her dream to live at least close to you, if not with you.

“It’s pretty”

“Yeah, it is.” She says as she slowly turns her head to you. “Care to tell me, properly?..”

“My brother is dead.” You said as you looked back at her. “He’s gone while I suffered for five years because of him.”

‘Suffered’ made Ningnings's ears perk up and feel uneasy.

“You know my… husband, kai. He threatened me that he would leak footage of my brother accidentally killing a woman. To stop him from doing so, I married him.”

“Y/n I’m so—“

“You didn’t know, nobody does, so don’t stress yourself” You smile at her as she sends you a weak smile back at you.

You take a sip from your drink as you turn your head back, now seeing movement in front of your house. It was Kai, slamming his car door and screaming at the staff.

“I couldn’t make sense why you would marry him when I saw him act like a spoiled male brat, but now it all makes sense,” she says as she giggles at his outburst as you crack a smile.

“He’s a boy, seriously. He might be leading his daddy’s company but it will go downhill with his outbursts in around 1-2 years.”

“Then another rival company down,” Ningning says as she turns back to her house and you instantly follow her in.

“CEO Ningning?” You question with a teasing smile as you lean against the kitchen island, next to her.

“Why? Does it turn you on?” She says as she leans on the counter, playing into your game.

“Maybe… you always looked… good working,” you say as you lean towards her now.

It was like something flipped in her as she grabbed your waist and trapped you between her and the counter.

“You’re playing with me, aren’t you”

You looked at her, like a prey trapped with a predator. God, you missed her, the way she touched you, or looked at you. You couldn’t even answer her as you wrapped your arms around her smashing your lips on her, which she responded to immediately.

Her hands went down to your waist, placing herself between your legs as your hands went to her hair, thuggin' at it which caused her to whine into your mouth.

You break the kiss as you look at her with hooded eyes, telling her everything just by looking at her. In an instant you switched positions as now, you were trapping her.

“Let me make up for all the times we missed..” you mumble against her lips as you lay wet kisses from her jaw down to her neck.

The girl was sensitive and you were kissing all of her right spots so all she could do was whine and clutch onto the counter behind her.

Ningning was very impatient with you because it seemed like you were taking an awfully long time with her, so what could a girl do?

She positioned herself on your thigh before so now all she could do was grind against it, searching for some friction, but to no avail. You held her hips down, not letting her chase her desired feeling.

“Getting slightly impatient now are we?” You tease her as she looks at you with her.

At that, you both froze at an incoming doorbell, from the entrance of the driveway, which was guarded with a getaway. It causes both of you to groan as she looks at the security camera installed:

It was your husband, looking as if he's composed and calm but you can read him like an open book: a hint of anger in his left eye, a slight dent in his cheek on his right, which means he is biting on that side, clenched jaw and car in the background messily parked by him. He was mad, for whatever reason.

But how did he know you were even here? And what was he even doing here, in front of Ningning's house?

What confused you even more was, why was Ningning seemingly all okay with it?!. It was like she was expecting him so she opened the gate for him as he walked up the driveway, taken aback by seeing you from the ceiling-tall window.

“Mr. Kai,” she says as she greets him offering her hand to shake, but there is no point in it, he is staring dead at you, not even glancing at Ningning waiting for a handshake. She takes her hand back and chuckles seeing the staring battle between the two. You were staring at him, without any emotion showing, scared that he might suspect something between the two of you.

“We are childhood friends, Mr. Kai, no hard feelings”

“Oh are you guys now?” he says as he turns his head, eyes still on you, but then he looks at Ningning and sends her the psychotic smile that made your skin crawl every time you saw it. You knew he was mad and in an attempt to calm him down, you took a step towards him grabbed his upper arm, and looked at him. The touch was gentle, and that did not go unnoticed by Ningning. Now she was the one clenching her jaw as she looked away.

“Kai don’t cause a scene, she's my friend, we were catching up,” you whisper as he looks down at you. He glares at you but looks up masking it perfectly.

“And here I was, wondering where my wife went,” he says and giggles which Ningning can only manage to send him a fake smile.

‘My wife’ coming from his mouth made Ningning livid. She should be the one saying it. She should be the one you wake up next to but here she was, in front of him.

“We have to go back,” you say as you turn to Ningning “ We are having lunch, right?” you say to him as he nods and grabs your wrist.

“We will talk another time, Ning Yi Zhuo” It was probably your first time hearing her actual name from someone other than her or her parents. But the question was… why would Kai and Ningning even speak about and how did they know each other?

It didn’t take two weeks for you to figure out why would they speak - they’re basically rivals in their job.

Both your husband and Ningning were law firm CEOs and the rivalry between the companies was pretty much known to mankind. So here they were, standing, a drink between their finger at a dinner party, hosted by someone you did not care slightly about.

But what you DID care about, was that the invited person had a chance to bring a plus one. You, as Kai’s wife, were his plus one. But who was Ningning’s plus one? She would never go alone to these kinds of parties, so you hawked around the big room full of people, trying to spot someone you had no idea about.

Till your eyes landed on a familiar one from the day on the bridge with Ningning. The girl had pink hair - very unusual for this kind of dinner, so she stuck out like a sore thumb. You trailed her movements before she approached Ningning, making you clench your jaw.

The way she leaned in, whispered into her ear, backed away, looked at ningning, everything, made your blood boil, why the hell were they so close? But then again, you shouldn’t be the jealous one, you were the reason for the breakup, after all.

You looked away, not wanting to anger yourself with the scenery unfolding right in front of you, that you had no control of. It made you feel uneasy and uncomfortable.

And to top it all, Kai walked over. ‘Great’ you thought, as you mentally got ready to brush off his arm around your shoulder, a move you mastered he loved. But before you could do that, he leaned down to your ear, whispering:

‘Ning yi zhuo is approaching, act like a loving wife, for once, goddamit’

All this caught you off guard, and you looked straight ahead, seeing he wasn’t lying. Ningning was slowly making her way over you two, arms hooked with a pink-haired stranger, as you decided to use this moment.

Be lovely-dovey with your ‘perfect husband’.

So you put your arm up to your shoulder, Kai expecting you to brush him off, even after he asked but instead, you held his hand, as you looked up to him with a reassuring smile, that completely caught him off guard and softened up with his touch around you.

As that happened right in front of Ningning, she wanted to break a glass on his head that he was holding. But what confused her more was, why were you smiling back at him? Didn’t you hate him? Did you just lie to her?

She approaches you two as she reaches out her hand to shake Kai as she looks at him, trying to maintain her composure, that you saw right thru of. ‘It was working as you turned your head towards the couple in front of you two. You send them a small smile as a greeting and watch the two of them shake hands.

“Mr. Kai, so nice to see you,” she says with a smile, you noticed how the left side of her cheek slightly shivered which was obvious she was not having any of the things that were unfolding in front of her.

���Same goes for you, Yizhuo,” he says as he smiles, which you knew was genuine, probably due to you letting him hold your hand. He shifts his gaze onto the pink-haired girl. “Who is this girl? First time seeing someone with hair like… that. Here” he paused, wanting to point out it was not normal to have hair color as bright to a place as honorable and noble as this dinner.

“This is Aeri, my friend,” She says, annoyance visible in her tone. “I think we should go somewhere private, No?” she suggests as you notice the change of posture and stiffness of your husband around you.

Was he always like this?

You didn’t know, you never let him close enough to feel his emotions thru touch.

He slid off hand from your shoulder as he grabbed both of them and turned you towards him, gently as he layed kiss on your forehead, whispering ‘don’t go too far’ as you nodded and smiled up to him. 

What were you even doing?

You watched to walk away, as you let out a breath you did not know were holding in as you turned to the aeri girl, sending her a smile as you excuse yourself but you stop when you hear someone call out your name.

You turned realizing it’s Aeri.

“y/n!”

“Yes?” you say as you smile at her, to be polite.

“Be careful.”

“What?”

“I said, be careful”

“Okay? Thank you?” you say confused as you turn on your heel and walk away, replying her words over and over. You walked mindlessly as you arrived to womens restroom and by the corner you hear muffled sounds, what seemed like two persons talking, but they sounded angry at one another. You didn’t wanna be involved but it was right near the bathroom so you walked over, clearly hearing the conversation.

The low whisper-yelling made it obvious to you, who was one of them.

Ningning.

But who was she arguing with???

“Yizhuo stay out of my fucking business!” another whisper yell, but louder.

Kai.

What the hell is going on?

“Your little precious ‘wife’ needs to know the asshole and murder you are, kai.”

Murderer.

It rang in your head, the same feeling of air slowly being taken from you came back, just like when you heard about your brothers passing, but before you process all of that you hear him bite back.

“And you need to stop messing with her head. You only came back to get revenge on me, leave her alone, we both know you don’t care about her, Yizhuo!”

Things just kept getting worse.

She only came back for… revenge? That’s what you only were to her?? A plaything for her to get revenge on your, alleged murderer husband??

What was going on, you had no idea but need to get away was huge so you ran.

You ran out, crying, causing everyone to look at your running figure, confused and taken aback. 

You ran till you own legs couldn’t support you.

You fell on the street sidewalk, staring at your own hands, hands that held his in your own.

hands that touched Ningning.

‘She was just using me’ is all you could think and repeat over and over.

Till your own mind shuts off on you.

finished.

god, this has been in my drafts for a while, heh..

[ihatedtoadmit]

Art study

pairing: Bang Chan x gn! reader

genre: ...suggestive

warnings: nothing actually happens, so none besides teasing

word count: ~1.3k

summary: You're doing an art study on muscles, and who's a better candidate for reference than your wonderful boyfriend who keeps feeding his delulu fanbase with half-naked pictures?

a/n: Well well well, Nat, you don't have to pay to see me write something like this after all (if you will ever see this, because no chance am I tagging you or anyone, dear). Here, have fun, this is the most spice anyone can get out of my asexual ass.

↳ Main Masterlist

All rights reserved. Please do not steal, repost or feed my work into AI. Thank you!

You were a very reserved person, something your partner knew all too well. Every touch the two of you shared throughout the entirety of your relationship had no heat behind it, each one only fueled by pure adoration and love. Never once did a kiss turn hungry, hell, there had barely been any kisses the two of you had shared due to your lack of need for the action. Chan knew it all too well, and while he craved more, he also respected it. The last thing he wanted to do was to make you uncomfortable, and so he’d never stepped over that line.

That was the exact reason for his current shyness, the confusion that wanted to sit onto his face hard to mask. There he stood in your doorway, the desk before your hunched form cluttered with pencils and little crumbs of dirty erasers. You were entirely too focused on the task at hand to notice your boyfriend's presence, the song that flowed through your headphones much too loud to hear any footsteps or even words. And so you continued drawing, clueless about anything as your lover watched you work, eyes flitting between your sketch and the endless reference pictures on your screen.

Pictures about him, his back fully on display and unclothed.

A touch broke you out of your concentration as you erased a line for the fourth time, scaring you into throwing away the pencil in your clutches just so you could tear the headphones off your head.

“Interesting art you have there, love.” - Chan mused, yet his skin was as flushed as ever.

You joined him as you could feel your own skin heating up, ashamed that you’d been caught like this. Eyes looked at everything besides your boyfriend, yet you found comfort in that warm touch of his.

“I was just… doing a study, on muscles.” - the words were but a mere whisper, hand quickly reaching to minimise your browser and just hide it from a certain pair of prying eyes.

Still, there was a feeling clawing at the cage of your soul, ripping at the flesh to be let out and rampage freely. It was feral and vicious, planting a thought into your head that seemed impossible to get out, no matter how alien it felt. You could feel your breath hitch at the image that popped into your head, memories of the images you had been staring at for a while now overlapping.

The hand on your shoulder gently squeezed, breaking you out of your derailing thoughts.

“I don't mind, baby, it just… caught me off guard? Glad you enjoyed my performances though.” - Chan’s voice was light, mixing well with the shyness he was trying to hide.

It only urged that fierceness inside to break free, granting you a surge of confidence you would have never had otherwise.

Without any words you finally glanced up at the man you loved, finding him utterly handsome; you would hone your artistic skills for the rest of your life just to capture a fragment of that beauty. His skin was dusted with a faint red, ears painted by the deepest of shades. Those eyes you loved to get lost in were alight with an emotion you had seen them only hold whenever he looked at the boys, and it took your breath away within a heartbeat.

Your body moved on its own, towering over him as you now stood. His hair was still slightly wet from the shower he must have just taken, and you just knew he had been originally on his way to his room to swap his bathrobe for those comfy, black clothes he loved to don in his free time.

He searched your gaze, unsure, yet trusting. His hands comfortably placed themselves onto your hips; their touch was warm, the man before you always running hot. It was something you loved as he balanced out your always cold hands wonderfully, reaching the perfect temperature you both enjoyed.

“Hey, love. How was work today?” - you asked, leaning closer than usual as you swiped those dark curls out of Chan’s face. He leaned into your touch, eyes closing for a second as he thought about his answer.

“The usual, although Hyunjin managed to piss off Minho again. It was a shoe this time that was the weapon, by the way.” - there was an airiness of joy to his words, yet no laugh accompanied it.

No, Chan was entirely too enamoured with the look you were giving him, as if you were worshipping him with your eyes alone. And maybe you were. With each look you studied the way your lover's skin moved, the shadows conforming accordingly. It lured you in, as if Chan was the siren and you were his prey, fated to be drowned in the vast oceans and seas.

He didn't move as you took him all in, hands eventually unable to keep themselves away. Your fingers were cold against the warmth of his fair skin, and you could hear his breath hitch, the muscles inside his neck moving beautifully.

There was something different in your touch, that much he knew, yet he wouldn't have it any other way.

As if you had never seen anything like it before, your hands glided over any free expanse of skin you could reach, memorising how the muscles hidden beneath curved and jumped at your touch. Never once did your eyes stray, wanting to remember every little detail. You wanted your art to be perfect, after all, to represent the real thing as closely as possible and that meant every little detail in their complete glory.

Your eyebrows furrowed as the white robe blocked you off, and so you slightly slid it off from one of Chan's shoulders. His hold on you tightened and you glanced at him briefly, seeing an intensity burning in those dark eyes, one you had never seen before.

You were playing with fire, and you could feel the heat of the danger.

Despite the clear wanting signs, you ignored them much like Icarus, hands now gliding down your lover's arm. Each touch held meaning, praising him in silence, singing odes about this man’s beauty. There was something so intriguing about watching the muscles connect to skin and bone, oh so perfectly toned and reacting to every touch of yours.

You stepped even closer, breaths mingling together as you reached into his robe, mapping out the vast skin of your partner's back. Every dip, every rise and imperfection was noted inside your head, the scorching star in Chan's eyes only growing in intensity as time passed. Your eyes flitted between those deadly stars and his neck, seeing it strain, muscles so tight that they jumped out of the skin in that lovely V-shape you could never grow bored of.

Then, as if something snapped, he gripped your waist with incredible force, not giving you a chance to escape. Despite that, no fear took residence inside you, your now warm fingers still laid peacefully on his shoulders.

“And what do I owe this extremely special moment to, baby?” - his words were a deep rumble, eyes begging for an answer with desperation.

“For being the most beautiful human to grace this planet, my wonderful love. Be my muse, please. Let me draw you, let me study you.” - you answered, one hand now cupping Chan's cheek tenderly, despite the uniquely heated situation.

As if that was the magic word to undo his binding, your lover moved, hauling your taller form easily onto the bed with him. There you were now, sat on his lap as he looked up at you expectantly, the intensity and love never diminishing in those bright eyes of his. Your sketchbook was still sitting beside you on the bed where you had originally thrown it at, hands itching to take it and immortalise what you had engraved into your mind in the past few minutes.

“I'll be your muse whenever, baby. All you needed to do was ask.”

[forlorn-crows]

𝑭𝒆𝒆𝒍 𝑰𝒕 𝒊𝒏 𝑴𝒚 𝑩𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝑾𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒀𝒐𝒖’𝒓𝒆 𝑫𝒓𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑯𝒐𝒎𝒆

aka Remember This Post?

Rating: Explicit

Relationship(s): Aether/Rain

Tags: transmasc!rain, semi-public sex, car sex, making out, vaginal fingering, grinding, cumming in pants. i couldn't get that post out of my head so here we are. they're silly let them have their car makeouts.

Words: 2501

Rain makes a noncommittal noise, watching as the buildings start to disappear as they leave town. He shifts in his seat again and rubs his palms up and down his thighs. Slow, absentmindedly. He sniffs. “Maybe I don’t want to share.” There’s a certain lilt to his voice: not one of petulance like one might expect after suggesting the water ghoul share his treats. Rather, there’s an air of whimsy that coats his words as he rolls his head over to peek at Aether, only solidified by the coy look on his face when Aether sneaks a glance.

read the rest under the cut or on AO3!

Rain sighs, sinking deeper into the passenger seat. “Can’t wait to eat those Takis,” he muses. “They looked sooo good.” He kicks his feet where they dangle off the dash, knees pressed to the glove compartment. “Wonder if they’re as spicy as the blue ones?”

“Probably,” Aether smirks, chuckling as he turns onto the long stretch of road that connects the town to the more remote area where the abbey lives. Many miles of farmland, cemeteries, and the occasional crop of forest stands between Rain and his snacks—but it’s never a boring drive with each others’ company.

“Dew’ll wanna sample some, that’s for sure.”

Rain makes a noncommittal noise, watching as the buildings start to disappear as they leave town. He shifts in his seat again and rubs his palms up and down his thighs. Slow, absentmindedly. 

He sniffs. “Maybe I don’t want to share.” There’s a certain lilt to his voice: not one of petulance like one might expect after suggesting the water ghoul share his treats. Rather, there’s an air of whimsy that coats his words as he rolls his head over to peek at Aether, only solidified by the coy look on his face when Aether sneaks a glance. 

“Maybe I want them all to myself.” Rain puts a hand on the bigger ghoul’s thigh and gives him a squeeze. “You know?”

Aether hums knowingly. He lifts his foot up on the accelerator, slowing them down a notch. He’s always down to stall if the detour makes it worth his while. 

“Anything else you want to yourself?” There’s usually only one thing he wants—and Aether’s a sucker for it.

“Maybe.” Rain’s glamoured hand drifts higher. Fingers walking to the inside of his thigh. The muscle twitches under his palm and he smirks. Too easy. “What do you think?”

Aether covers Rain’s hand with his own, squeezing back. “You know the answer is always yes, guppy.”

Rain smiles, dull teeth flashing pearly white. He bites his lip and wiggles his fingers under Aether’s hand. Lays his head on his own shoulder and bats his lashes at him. “Yeah?” Insufferably cute and wholly mischievous.

“Yes.” He rolls his eyes playfully. “Better ask me now, or we’ll miss our usual spot,” he teases.

Rain giggles, flirting dialed up to a hundred. “You wanna have a little fun, baby?”

Aether smiles cheekily and pulls off onto a dirt road just as the car crests over the hill. “Well, I thought you’d never ask.”

The road isn’t terribly long, but it’s winding—looping around little shacks and abandoned houses of a neighborhood that once was. They approach a slightly overgrown driveway shaded by tall evergreens. The main path would take them to a dilapidated cabin, long since left to mother nature; but, it’s the tiny path forked off that Aether pulls into, shielded from the main road yet close enough to spin around if need be. 

Before he can even throw the car into park, Rain’s slipping his knees off the dash and clamoring into the backseat, toeing his shoes off as he shoves his body over the center console. 

“Aux. Aux cord,” Rain demands. He fishes his phone from his jacket pocket and grasps blindly for the cable. “Made us a playlist. All grungy and shit, like a horny teenager in those 90s movies made it. We can pretend we’re playing hooky in your beat-up car you got for your sixteenth birthday and we’re thirty minutes away from being caught with your hand down my pants.”

Aether scoffs and kills the engine. “Dew help you with that playlist?”

“Of course he helped.” Rain waits for him to exit the driver’s seat and switch to the backseat before adding: “You think your boyfriend was gonna turn down helping with a little roleplay?” The water ghoul hits Shuffle, and a Radiohead song fills the speakers. He tosses his phone back into the passenger seat, his jacket soon following. 

“Never,” Aether concurs. As soon as the door shuts behind him, though, he’s grabbing Rain and tugging him into his lap, pulling him into a searing kiss and ending any meaningful conversation. There’s no need for preamble; no need to ease into it, to warm up into something hot and steamy. All at once it’s hands everywhere, tongues slipping past lips, swallowed groans and heated breath. 

“Mmpf, yeah, kiss me,” Rain breathes. “Faster.”

Aether smiles against his lips and slides his hands up Rain’s jean-clad thighs. “So needy. What if someone sees?”

Any sense of urgency, of wrongness, is entirely manufactured, of course (unless there’s ice cream in the trunk), but the fantasy of it all makes it feel naughty—and that’s what spurs them on. 

“Always feel so good like this,” Aether breathes. He slips his hands up the back of Rain’s shirt,  palms pressed to the small of his back. Where there would normally be fins and slightly wet skin, there’s nothing but smooth, warm, human skin. Aether hums appreciatively and feels along each side of his spine. The action earns him a shiver, and Rain whines against his mouth. 

“Yeah,” he groans. “Fuck, keep touching me.” Rain grinds against Aether’s lap, earning a grunt of his own. He’s so hot over him, holding back absolutely nothing. Kissing and humping with the enthusiasm of a teenage boy. 

Aether fucking loves it.

The water ghoul tips his head back once Aether latches onto his neck, sucking a mark under the hinge of his jaw. Worrying the skin between his teeth to really bring the blood to the surface and bloom into a circle of red. Rain moans through it—little ah’s that fall from his slack mouth as his fingers tighten in Aether’s hair. Holding him there. Throbbing when his hands skirt even higher under the back of his shirt.

“Hah.” Rain moans a laugh when Aether moves lower, working in another mark right above his collarbone. “Can’t hide them—everyone will know,” he says. “They’re gonna see.”

“They will, won’t they?” Aether rumbles. “Know what we got up to, hm?”

“Want them to,” Rain keens, hips bucking. Head just bumping against the roof of the car. “Shit, skin’s so sensitive–uh.” His words transform into a loud groan as Aether presses him tight to his chest, blunt nails digging into his back. Desperation only building with each passing moment. 

“Marks always look so pretty with these freckles.” He presses his lips to them a handful more times, purposefully wet and indulgent. “Lucifer, love havin’ you all to myself.” 

His cock loves it too, getting chubbier the more Rain wriggles and grinds on his lap. It’s inevitable, really, especially glamoured. Squeeze everything that makes them demons inside a full human facade, and their bodies grow tighter, in a way. Much more sensitive to pleasure when everything else is hidden away. There’s no space for sensation to dissipate, so it all pools at the surface and drives them crazy. 

Rain dives back in, pointedly frenzied as he licks into Aether’s mouth. “So hot,” he moans, grinding harder, kissing deeper. “Oh, Aether.”

The bigger ghoul groans, loud enough that it drowns out the music. “Fuck, say my name,” he slurs against Rain’s eager mouth. 

And Rain does. Sighing it between each break of their kisses until it dissolves into nothing but the movement of his lips and tongue, halted fricatives and drawn out vowels as the need to devour one another reaches its peak. Their kisses only get sloppier, hungrier. Rain’s tongue explores Aether’s mouth every other time they pull apart. Aether sucks at Rain’s bottom lip, and Rain pulls at Aether’s hair. 

Aether’s knees push further into the backs of the seats as he sinks down, just enough to really push the hardened ridge of his cock against his fly. Rain’s practically steaming where they’re pressed together—and only getting hotter the longer he rubs on him. Soon enough, he’s whining at every one of those rolls of his hips, every little thing Aether has to say against his mouth. And he’s loud. Letting out noises he rarely gets to hear, especially in the company of others.

But it’s the moment Aether chooses to grab his ass and help him grind down on his cock that Rain loses it completely.

“Shit—need it, need you to touch me,” he breathes, already popping the button on his jeans. As soon as his zipper’s down, Aether’s tugging on the back of his pants, sliding them down just enough so he can fit his hands inside. One grips at Rain’s ass, encouraging him to hover, and the other slips into the front of his underwear.

“Oh, guppy—” Aether rubs along Rain’s folds, thumb pressing right against the little head of his dick.

“Fuck!” Rain tosses his head back, pushing the top of it into the car’s headliner. He’s so hard, so wet; both of them can’t help but groan. “Seven fucking hells.”

“So hot like this,” Aether mumbles. His breath gets shaky as his fingers rub at Rain’s entrance, the hottest and wettest part of him. Rain throbs, and the rim of his hole kisses at Aether’s fingertips. His cock twitches so hard it makes him dizzy, and his groan follows him down until the back of his head hits the headrest, eyes heavy and gazing up at Rain hungrily. “Let me put ‘em in,” he rasps. “Wanna feel ins—”

Before he can finish, Rain’s hand shoots down between them and grips his wrist, shoving his hand further into his body, so his fingers have no choice but to sink into his cunt. 

“Make me cum,” Rain begs. He lets go of Aether’s wrist and grips the seats behind him, so tightly it’s a wonder he doesn’t rip right through them. Rain hangs his head against his shoulder and lifts his hips with a whine, giving Aether perfect access. “Please.”

“Whatever you want,” Aether groans, fingers starting up a rhythm. “Satanas, I can’t believe you’re all mine right now.”

Rain whines again—for him, only for him—high-pitched and shameless. Grinds against his hand like his life depends on it. Aether’s fingers get slicker with each thrust, until soon the sound of Rain’s wetness overshadows the shredded chords of Deftones. 

“Yeah—yeah, that’s it, baby,” Aether groans. “Fuck you’re so wet.”

Rain turns his head and lets loose a moan right into his ear. Aether jolts, the sound going straight to his dick. 

“Oh hells, keep doin’ that in my ear, yeah.” His hips start moving of their own accord, little thrusts that build until it’s really the motion of his pelvis that drives his fingers in and out; a pseudo fucking that has both of them barreling towards a messy end. 

As their shared panting reaches its peak, Rain chokes out: “You’re gonna make me cum. Shit, m’ gonna cum like this.”

“Uh huh.”

“Oh. Oh.” Aether speeds his thumb over Rain’s cock and thrusts into where he needs it most. Thighs starting to burn from holding himself up in order to press his fingers nice and deep. “Th-there, hh–oh fuck—” 

With a flex of his hips, Rain smashes his face into Aether’s neck and creams his pants with a string of shouts, cunt squeezing hard around the quint ghoul’s fingers. The intensity of it sneaks up on him, blows him over with how hard he cums, and Aether wants to drown in it. 

“Thaaat’s it,” Aether coos, grinding his hips up harder into his own hand. “Keep goin’, give me all of it, fuck.”

The longer it lasts, the more Rain shakes against Aether: arms struggling to keep him from face planting into the headrests, thighs trembling keeping his hips raised, socked feet twitching against Aether’s shins every time his stomach clenches. And Aether’s own hips just keep going, the head of his cock pressing just right into his fly as it rubs against the back of his hand. 

“Next—shit—next time, gonna get y-your cock in me,” Rain whines, coming down yet still pushing Aether to finish, too. “Squeeze it . . . just like this, oh.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

The water ghoul groans, almost growls. Right against Aether’s ear, teeth to the lobe: “Raw.”

Just one word, but the effect on his body is brutal. “Fucking—shit!” Aether’s voice cracks as he thumps the back of his head against the seats, cock spurting his release into the fabric of his boxers. His hand grips Rain’s ass hard, forcing him down against his lap as he goes taut as a bowstring. 

Rain gives a lazy, open-mouthed smile as he watches him cum. “So hot, love,” he groans. “Gods, this never gets old.”

“N-never,” Aether gasps. Valiantly, his cock kicks one last time before he collapses back down. Rain somehow saves himself from plopping right on down with him, allowing Aether the grace to remove his (now very wet) hand before his wrist starts to crick at the wrong angle. 

Rain sighs as his fingers slide out of his cunt, as close to purring as a glamoured ghoul can get. The two of them pant in silence, just staring at each others’ flushed faces. 

“Got so messy,” Rain says after the next song ends, staring at the shining digits shamelessly. 

“You and me both, sweetheart,” Aether snorts, his face morphing into some kind of dazed awe. He turns his fingers this way and that, shaking his head. “They’re gonna smell us from a mile away.”

“Mmn.” Rain bites his lip, eyes still heavy. A beat. “Better clean those off, then.”

Aether huffs a laugh. “Kinda meant the c–umph.”

Rain dives in and presses Aether’s fingers to his own mouth, sandwiching them between both of their lips. Rain’s tongue works over the digits, making out around them to clean off his own slick while Aether’s brain attempts to catch up to the situation. Licking, sucking, kissing, until all that’s left is saliva. The quintessence ghoul groans when Rain finally pulls his hand away, capturing his lips fully and slipping his hands into Rain’s hair. 

“Ugh, baby,” he sighs. “Don’t wanna give you up.”

Rain hums in agreement. Rocking slowly back and forth over Aether’s lap until it earns him a whine. “Don’t have to,” he lilts, “could just keep kissin’ me.” Rain rubs their noses together, switching sides. Licking along Aether’s top lip and feigning going back in just to feel him lunge in for it and gasp when his lips meet nothing but air.  

He groans, stealing a glance at the clock on the little dashboard screen. “We gotta get back, sweet boy.”

“Uh huh.” Fully unconvinced. The water ghoul makes no move to get up, let alone unplug his phone from the aux, continuing his lazy, post-nut exploration of Aether’s mouth. And, despite his last sentence, Aether lets him—indulging in their tangle of tongues, slipping his hands up the front of Rain’s shirt until he can palm at his warm little tits. 

“Mmpf.”

“Okay, just. Just a few more minutes.”

“Yeah.”

[yappaccinocookie]

cracks in the frosting.

Pls pls write a Elder Faerie x Reader im BEGGING i'm so down horrendous for that man plsss

i wrote this so very short bcs i literally know nothing about elder faerie cookie other than the fact that he's old... jk, but you get my point. im more fond of silverbell than this oldie.

LOWERCASE INTENDED!!

“you’ve been quiet,” you said, breaking the silence, your voice light but carrying a hint of concern.

he turned to you, his expression as composed as always, but his eyes held a softness that betrayed the usual stoic exterior. “there is much to reflect on,” he replied, his voice steady, though you could almost sense the weight of his thoughts.

you nodded, sensing the faint crack in his usual resolve. you didn’t press him for details, though. elder faerie cookie wasn’t the type to open up easily, and you had learned to respect his silence. instead, you patted the spot next to you on the windowsill.

“come sit with me,” you offered with a small smile. “we’ve got enough quiet to enjoy a moment.”

there was a pause before he moved to join you, his every step measured and deliberate, like dough being carefully kneaded into shape. when he settled beside you, you could feel the subtle stiffness in his posture, as though he were still trying to hold himself together despite the quiet moment.

you leaned back slightly, glancing at him. “you know, even us cookies need a break,” you said with a teasing tone. “especially cookies who have been doing nothing but working nonstop.” (throwing shade)

"at this rate you're gonna crack your dough from all that stress, why dont you just take a break?" you continued on. he gave you a small, almost imperceptible sigh, his frosting shimmering slightly as if the weight of the moment was starting to soften it. “my duty is never-ending,” he said, but there was a hint of something else in his voice, something that suggested he wasn’t entirely convinced by his own words.

“sure, but even dough needs to rise before it can be baked,” you teased, nudging him lightly with your elbow. “and i think you’ve been kneading yourself a little too much lately.”

he glanced at you, his eyes sharp, but the corner of his mouth twitched upward in the faintest of smiles. “i suppose even the most serious of cookies must be allowed a moment to... rest.”

“exactly,” you replied, giving him a small nudge. “you’ve earned it. besides, who’s going to keep me company if you’re off somewhere being all ‘serious monarch of legends untold’?”

he chuckled softly, the sound like the soft crackling of sugar being melted. “i suppose that is a rather lonely title,” he mused, his gaze drifting toward the window.

you shifted slightly, leaning your head against his shoulder, feeling the coolness of his frosting against your dough. the warmth of the moment seemed to melt away the edges of the tension he usually carried.

“thank you,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “for reminding me that there’s more to life than just duty."

"mhm... you're welcome."

[hunterthecharmer]

Unexpected - Part 2

Sorry for the delay everyone. Here's part 2! Hope you all like it :)

Summary: You work for an events company and end up being assigned as a talent handler for a 2 week long convention. Your co-worker ends up assigned to Glen Powell, but you catch his eye. Can you remain professional and keep him from knowing you're actually a pretty big fan of his?

This is my inspiration for the outfit he’s wearing :)

Part 2

It’s the middle of the week, and every day has been spent coordinating with Dylan O’Brien’s team to get every piece of his schedule nailed down. He only had one assistant in the office currently which made your job a bit easier. Savannah, on the other hand was sipping her lattes with her feet kicked up in the corner of your office while you took your meetings each day as Glen’s assistant sent everything over via email or text, to not fill her day up with Zoom meetings.

“This probably means he’s a control freak.” Savannah muses, chewing on the end of her pen as she notates an email from his team. “Look, we both have our work cut out for us. Have you opened your package yet from his team?” You ask, waving your mailer in front of her with a grin. You already knew she was going to want to swap one of the items.

“Wait, what? No! What did they send?” She grins, tearing open the envelope to pull out a large autographed headshot of Glen. Some pens, a lanyard and a handwritten note from his assistant come tumbling out with it. Savannah pouts, immediately shifting her eyes to the one you’re holding. “C’mon, don’t make me beg! Let me see it!” She’s giddy as she shakes your arm, and you giggle as you dramatically remove it from its sleeve. “Trade ya?” You wink at her, before you both search the hall for some empty frames and get Jim from IT to help the two of you hang them up in your offices.

As soon as he’s finished, Savannah comes tapping on your door. “Thanks for trading. Dylan is my man! I hope he’s nice, I don’t know how I’ll feel if he’s rude..” her voice trails off, and you pat her on the shoulder. “He’ll be great. Don’t stress it! You’ll do a great job keeping him on track.” She smiles at your reassurance. “Sooo, are you going to pack your Longhorn hat?”

You gasp at her, crumpling a nearby scrap of paper and throwing it at her. “Listen, that hat is my only one that’s black, it goes with everything, and…yes, it may or may not have only been bought because of Glen. BUT, of course it’s coming. You never know what Tennessee weather will bring!” You smirk at her before flipping off the lights in your office, following Savannah down the hallway to the parking deck.

----

“Wow, it really is beautiful here.” You mutter to yourself as you climb into the shuttle taking you from the airport to the event location. The sky seemed a richer hue of blue, and the large trees shaded the vehicles the entire trip. You allowed yourself to breathe as you stepped into the large auditorium building. All the months of hard work and planning had finally paid off. Seeing it with your own eyes was a real treat that you rarely got to enjoy with this job. Hundreds of staff members were busily setting up chairs, tables and last minute details together before the talent would arrive that evening. The welcome party was going to be a blast - glow sticks, a DJ, boujee appetizers and twinkling lights. It would be the perfect way to welcome the talent and allow everyone on location to get ready for the weeks ahead.

After doing your makeup and spraying some texture spray in your hair, you take one last look in the mirror of your little cabin and smile. You felt confident in your all black outfit. Black levi jeans, an off the shoulder black long sleeve with some gold jewelry and some hoops. Your hair was curled, and the leather boots were keeping your feet warm from the winter chill outside. You plop down on the edge of your bed and take in your home away from home. Everyone had their own little log cabin, it was basically a studio set up with a queen sized bed in the middle of the room, chandelier above it and of course a bathroom and lounger with a big window. It was charming and cozy, and you couldn’t imagine how much nicer the talent’s must be if this was how lovely yours was.

One last spritz of texture spray to your hair and you were out the door, jumping on your personal golf cart to ride down to the warehouse.

“Over here! Over here!” You hear a high pitched squeal from across the gravel as you put the golf cart in park. You swivel your head to the left to find Savannah fastly approaching, one hand waving you down, the other holding her skirt from dragging across the ground. “Finally, you’re here!” She wraps an arm around you in a tight hug. You giggle as you steady your balance, hugging her back. You knew she had to be so nervous to meet the talent, because you weren’t the type to get starstruck and your own heart was hammering in your chest.

“We’ve got this! We aren’t the only ones meeting them for the first time tonight. Just remember that! I’m sure Glen will be lovely. I promise I will try to nonchalantly get Dylan to meet you tonight too. Deal?” You both pinky promise before heading inside towards the loud music.

You squint your eyes at the glowing white orbs on each high top table, not a single chair in sight other than at the bar. The DJ had many of the guests up and dancing while others socialized amongst themselves. Everyone was dressed casually, probably changing minimally after their plane rides. You and the other workers were definitely dressed up a little more, which instantly put you at ease. Feeling more put together and confident, you lead Savannah to the sign in table. Glancing around as you wait in line, you watch the other girls and guys check over their packets, taking in who their responsibility will be for the next two weeks. Reading what their pick up and drop off schedule will be like, and all the other fast facts about their assigned celebrity; allergies, preferences, etc. As soon as your packet about Dylan is in your hands, you find an empty table and start reading over it. You nonchalantly do a sweep of the room, the different colored lights illuminating everyone’s faces. Some of your favorite actors are in this room, and you couldn’t believe it. After a few moments you spot Dylan at the bar, the lavender backdrop and blue lights behind the stools accentuating his all white outfit. He runs a hand through his shaggy brown hair, mid conversation with another actor you didn’t recognize. You quickly glance down at your paper, making notes with your pen. You get through about three pages before Savannah appears in front of you, slamming her lanyard down on the table. “Did you introduce yourself yet?” She whispers, rummaging around in her bag for her lipgloss. “No, I’m letting him finish his conversation first. How’s Glen?” You ask, smirking at her. “He’s a dream. He literally made a beeline for me through the crowd to introduce himself! I have to bring him his schedule, apparently no one had it in their rooms when they got here so that’s awkward. Strike one on us.” She bites her bottom lip. You feel your eyes widen. “What?! That was supposed to have been done days ago! The girls from scheduling said they had it under control..oh well. I guess it’s a nice ice breaker for us to approach them. Wait, did you say Glen came up to you? How’d he know you were his handler?” Savannah raises a hand to cover her mouth before moving around the table top to grasp your forearm. “Girl! You know how they sent us head shots of the talent? Apparently they received one of us too! Isn’t that wild?” She giggles, taking in your reaction. “So, that means Dylan already knows I’m here probably. Great..” You let your voice trail off before closing your folder and grabbing your lanyard to place around your neck.

“Let me go say hello, then!” You flash Savannah a nervous smile before heading to the bar, Dylan’s eyes immediately drifting from the man he’s talking to over to you. He places a hand on his shoulder and says what you assume to be a quick goodbye before turning on his heel toward you. “You’re the lucky lady who's stuck with me, yeah?” He grins, extending a hand to you. His brown eyes are friendly, twinkling beneath the lights dancing around the room. “I’m Dylan, so nice to meet you!” His handshake is firm, and you take note of how strong his cologne is. “I promise to get you everywhere on time these next few weeks. It’s great to meet you!” You return his smile, moving closer to him as a crowd of people brush past the two of you toward the buffet, the DJ announcing to everyone that dinner has been set out. Dylan leans down to your ear so you can hear him better. “I’m so stoked to be here, did you have a hand in all this?” He shouts above the music, gesturing around him to all the decor in the warehouse, fake pink and magenta flowers are strung up through the rafters, flameless candles were dispersed throughout the room, you were proud of the vibe in here for sure. It was kind of like a club but classier. “It took a village for sure, but I’m really happy with how it turned out! Oh, here’s your schedule by the way-” You continue to babble on to him about the whole event and the planning that went into it, and start going through Dylan’s schedule with him. He listens intently to you, his focus a hundred percent on what you’re showing him. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch Savannah pointing you out to Glen, his eyes peering at you from beneath his black Texas Longhorns ballcap before he looks away. You feel heat rush to your cheeks as you tear your gaze away from him. You and Dylan exchange some more info, and decide to meet out front by the golf carts in another hour or so. You meander towards the back of the space, your stomach growling at the sight of all the warm food placed ahead of you. Before you can grab a plate, you hear Savannah call your name, “Hey, wait up!” You spin around, her arm locking with yours to pull you away from the buffet line. “Where are we going?” You whine, turning your head back towards the food. “The food is that way! I’m starving.” Savannah shoots you a sympathetic smile as she continues to drag you through the crowd until she sits you down at a round table in the corner of the room. “Unfortunately, that food’s not for us.” She frowns, before leaving you to disappear behind a door and reappear moments later with two foil covered plates, two large water bottles under her arm. “Savannah…what’s on those plates.” You wearily question, grabbing it from her. You both count to three together before ripping the foil cover off, revealing a hamburger, bag of chips and the tiniest cup of fruit you’d ever seen. “Guess they had to cut corners to save money somehow.” You pout, pushing the plate away from you as you grab the bag of Lays.

“Here we chose the best menus each night for them, thinking we too would get to enjoy them, but no. We have to eat like kids.” Savannah complains as she bites into her burger. “What, lost your appetite?” She frowns at your plate. “I don’t eat burgers. Actually, I can’t eat red meat at all.” You reply, shrugging your shoulders. You slump back into your chair, disappointed that you’re missing out on the all you can eat sushi bar the talent is currently enjoying right now.

Savannah inhales her food as the two of you chat about your schedules for tomorrow, trying to find overlaps. Your conversation is cut short at the sound of a male voice in front of you. “Excuse me, sorry to interrupt but, do you ladies happen to know where the restrooms are?” You both snap your gaze upward to see Glen standing in front of your table, the only celebrity in a 300 foot distance. You take in his outfit- his cap you noticed earlier, his dark black jeans, crisp white t-shirt and grey cardigan that fits him perfectly. He’s extremely handsome in person, even more so than on screen. You open your mouth to speak, but you realize nothing is coming out of your mouth. You quickly wet your lips with your tongue, eyes deferring to Savannah, since he probably came over here to ask her. She is his handler for the weekend, after all. Savannah’s mid chew on the last piece of her burger, looking at you expectantly. “Oh, uh, they’re behind the DJ’s set up, there’s a little hallway back there with the bathrooms.” You meet his gaze again, his green eyes locked onto yours before they drop to the plate in front of you. The sides of his mouth tugs up into a smirk. “Not hungry?” He points to your untouched hamburger, his watch catching the light. You take a mental note of your stomach doing backflips over this accessory, as watches have always been kind of a thing for you. A turn on, if you will. You shake your head and laugh, admitting that you can’t eat it. “I’ll be out of commission if I eat that.” Glen’s playful expression turns to one of confusion, pointing over his shoulder to the extensive spread of food behind you. “You want to trade? I didn’t see that as an option. Where’d you find that?” Savannah giggles, waving her hands in front of her as she finally speaks. “No, no, the burgers are just for us little people. You guys get to enjoy the good stuff.” She winks at him, and you nudge her beneath the table. Not exactly the best way to put it…

Glen’s eyebrows furrow slightly, head tilting to the side. “That doesn’t seem fair. Tell you what, I’ll bring you back a plate of whatever you want if I can devour that burger on your plate.” He flashes you a grin, and you’re enthusiastically nodding before you can think twice about it. “Yes, please! I’ll literally take anything you can gr-” you begin, but Savannah cuts you off. “She loves sushi, Glen.” They exchange a smile as he points to her before wading through the crowd. You turn to your coworker, mouth open in disbelief. “Umm, is Glen Powell bringing me a plate of food right now?!” You let out a tiny squeal, hitting her on the knee. She props a hand on her cheek, “I know right? Isn’t he so nice? Where the heck is Dylan?” She responds, squeezing your shoulder. “It sucks we have to act like we don’t know them. Like, at all.” She huffs, crossing her arms across her chest. “He’s over by the dessert bar, why don’t you take a quick walk by? He won’t even notice! He’s quite the social butterfly tonight.” You wink at her encouragingly, and she actually stands from her chair. “You know what, you’re right. Be right back!” She’s giddy as she weaves through the crowd, and in her wake you see Glen reappear, a plate full of sushi in tow. He sticks out his tongue, clearly proud of his selection. “Here we go, I got a little bit of everything for ya.” He presents the plate to you dramatically, flicking his wrist to emulate a waiter as he drops it on the table. “You’ve outdone yourself.” You grin, placing a hand over your heart to match his energy. “And in return…” You reach for the plate, lifting the burger to his hands. He shakes his head, instantly grabbing the burger out of its sleeve and taking a huge bite out of it. “I’m Glen, by the way.” He mumbles, his mouth full. You swallow thickly, Savannah’s reminder echoing in your head as you introduce yourself, acting as casual as possible. You lift your chopsticks and dig into your food, not having realized that Glen’s attention is on you. The two of you continue to eat in silence, hunger clearly winning here. “Guess we were hungry.” You laugh, pushing your now empty plate away from you. Glen throws his head back with a chuckle, nodding in agreement. “Guess so. It was a long travel day.”

Suddenly, you remember why he approached your table in the first place - the bathroom. “Wait, did you ever find the restrooms?” Your tone has a hint of worry in it; what were you thinking, sending him off to get you a plate of food? You were sup[posed to be serving the talent, not the other way around. You suddenly felt embarrassed, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. Glen’s mouth turns into a soft smile, his expression playful again. “Oh, I knew where the bathrooms were.” His words hang in the air as you process his tone, taking in his facial expression. Was he..flirting with you? There was no way. You were delusional. Before you can respond, he stacks his empty plate on top of yours and slides them back toward him, leaning over the table a bit to make sure you can hear him. “Nice doin’ business with you.” He shoots you a quick wink before he tosses the plates into the trash can and disappears into the crowd. You’re aware of the cheesy grin on your face that you can’t wipe off, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you fidget with your bracelets. Savannah soon returns, waving you toward her. “C’mon, let’s get to our carts and wait for the boys! We have an early morning tomorrow.” ANd with that, you grab both of your bags and follow her to the gravel lot outside, the exchange with Glen replaying over and over in your mind.

Dylan strides up to your golf cart right on time, his eyes glazed over. “Man, that was fun! You guys killed that. I’m dead tired though.” He raises his hand for a high five, and you happily oblige before driving him to his personal cabin. Agreeing on a wakeup time, you wait for him to get inside before driving off.

You snuggle into bed that night replaying how amazing the event space looked, relieved that Dylan was kind and, so far, not a diva. You were looking forward to getting to know him a little better and look out for him the next few weeks. And then there was Glen…you had to try and downplay tonight’s interaction. He was just being nice, his parents clearly raised him right. That’s all it was. Did he seriously wink at you? Maybe you dreamed that part. Maybe he isn’t as nice as he seems, and just a charmer. He could have a girlfriend for all you know!

“I need help.” You mutter to yourself.

You shake your head and sigh; you were here to work. You needed to be professional and short with all of the guests here. End of story. You let yourself fall asleep to the sound of the wind blowing outside your cabin window.

[rapturously]

asking for some ethan landry smut ,,, I don’t care what you write but I need it! 🧎‍♀️

when the party’s over.

➾ pairing ; ethan landry x fem!reader.

in which you meet a cute boy at a college party and decide to have a little bit of fun behind closed doors.

FORMAT: drabble — requested.

WORD COUNT: 4K.

WARNINGS: SMUT! (mdni), alcohol/drinking, typical college party antics, hooking up, semi-public sex, risk of getting caught, virgin!ethan, making out, hair-pulling, groping, cunnilingus, oral sex (f!receiving), extreme horny antics, handjob (m!receiving), fingering, cumming together ;)), ethan has some dark/weird thoughts, cumplay, begging, dirty talk, ambiguous ending

AUTHOR’S NOTE: I’m suffering from chronic ethan landry brainrot :’) he’s so cute but unhinged/deranged and I love that !!! I love my men sexy and out for blood !! I am absolutely planning on writing a part two and/or more of him, this was so fun & horny (my favorite). I hope you all enjoy! ❤️

A homemade concoction of various alcohol stung your nose as you strolled past the kitchen, surrounded by a swarm of neon lights — vibrant shades of violet, green, and hot pink. The music blared all around you, bass booming hard enough to make your bones rattle.

Blackmore University was infamous for its chaotic parties and mixers that involved too much to drink and too many people — tonight was no exception. Halloween was right around the corner, and the party was lively with plenty of buzzed college students dressed in costumes.

The rest of your entourage had decided to be the fairies from Pixie Hollow. You hadn’t decided on a particular fairy, but you’d gotten a cute dress and trinkets to look the part. Your wings — cheap gossamer stretched over wire frames — were serviceable at best.

You came along with a group of your friends, but they scattered as soon as they walked through the door. You were left to your own devices, sipping on a hard lemonade with a sour expression. The alcohol tasted decent enough, but you were wary of getting intoxicated in unfamiliar locations.

Some radio-popular hip-hop song provided a steady ambiance as you traipsed through another hallway, narrowly avoiding a collision with a sashaying junior.

The thick, heady scent of marijuana drifted throughout the frat house, accompanied by clouds of hazy smoke. As you passed by the staircase, there was a boy slumped to one side, puffing on a bong that seemed comically large. Typical college party antics, you assumed.

As you rounded the doorway, you slammed right into a boy who seemed just as startled as you were. The drink in your hand smashed into the cardboard chest piece he was wearing, exploding onto your silvery evening dress.

“S—Shit! I’m so sorry,” He stammered, fumbling over his words as he clamored to grab a towel or a rag — anything, really. He hastily decided on a throw blanket draped over the back of a leather couch, tossing it over the puddle of spilled alcohol. “I didn’t see you.”

Before you decided to admonish him for his carelessness, you realized that it wasn’t his fault — more of a joint mistake, really. “No, it’s fine! I should’ve been looking.” You replied, crouching down to help him clean up the mess.

The front of your pretty dress was now coated in a layer of sticky booze, clinging to your chest with an uncomfortable dampness. Unfortunately, you’d left your jacket back at your dormitory, riddled with a stain that would likely stay for the duration of the party.

When you finally got a look at your obstacle, you were delighted to find that he was cute — arguably the most attractive boy in the room. “I’m really sorry about your dress. I ruined your costume.” He frowned, brows furrowing together.

You realized that he was dressed as a Knight, armor meticulously crafted of intricate cardboard cutouts and patterns. “I think we ruined each other’s costumes.” You mused, gesturing toward the splotch of alcohol all over the front of his chest.

“This is going to the dumpster once the party ends, anyway.” He confessed, letting out a soft chuckle. Admittedly, it made you laugh, nose crinkling in amusement as you cleared your throat.

“Really? I think it looks great! You put a lot of effort into it.” That was true — it was a neat costume. You found it amusing that the knight and the fairy had run into one another, as if it were ripped from the pages of some gaudy romance novel.

“Thanks,” The boy chewed at the inside of his cheek, reaching to rub at the back of his neck. “You’re supposed to be a fairy, right? I noticed the wings, and the … Dress. Before I collided with you.” He was in awe of you, truly — you were absolutely gorgeous.

Part of him thought about staking out your dorm for later, but now wasn’t the time.

A familiar wave of heat washed over you, creeping into your features as you playfully spun around. Your glittering dress and cosmetics glistened in the lower light. “The rest of my friends came as the Pixie Hollow fairies. I couldn’t really decide on one, so I made my own.”

“Yeah, well you — You look really pretty.” He swallowed the growing lump within his throat, attempting to kick away that twinge of social anxiety. It was something he struggled with — he wasn’t nearly as outgoing or charismatic as his older brother.

“Thank you, that’s really sweet of you.” Bristling from his innocuous compliment, you stepped closer, attempting to close some of the distance between the both of you. “What’s your name? I didn’t catch it.” You piped up, leaning against the doorframe.

Unable to keep from smiling, he stayed static, watching as you bridged the gap. “I’m Ethan, Ethan Landry. It’s nice to meet you.” His chest shook with a brief chuckle when you stuck out your hand for an exaggerated handshake.

“Ethan Landry,” You beamed, shaking his hand with excitable energy. After you gave him your name, the conversation only seemed to blossom from there. “It’s nice to meet you, too! What are you studying here at Blakemore?”

Ethan never had the best luck with women, especially ones as pretty as you. Not only that, but you had a whirlwind of charm to you, too. “Uh … I’m still deciding. Leaning toward film, though! What about you?” He asked, unable to keep his eyes off of you.

“I’m also in the process of deciding. I’m trying to get my basic courses out of the way before I commit to something.” You chimed, sidestepping away from the swarm of rancorous students that began to pile into the living room.

With a constant grin, you peered toward the growing crowd of students dancing in the middle of the room. A fast-paced hip-hop song began to thrum over the speakers, filling the frat house with music.

“Do you want to dance?” You asked, motioning toward the gathering in the center of the room. This was the one college party where you’d met a cute boy who seemed to take an interest — you weren’t about to squander it.

He seemed visibly hesitant, making a face that screamed ‘I don’t think it’s a good idea’. Ethan relented, deciding that taking a risk and spending more time with you would be worthwhile. “Just one. It’s getting pretty crazy in here.” He wasn’t much of a dancer, either.

“Just one!” You reaffirmed, snatching ahold of his hand as the two of you joined the mosh pit of students. Somewhere through the chaos, you ended up right against him, chest to chest, swaying and bouncing to the music. It was loud, so loud that it shook the very foundations of the building.

Ethan didn’t want to make a fool out of himself. He simply mimicked some of your movements, entranced by the way you involuntarily pressed against him, a smile on your face, drifting off to the music. You grabbed one of his hands, prompting him to twirl you around.

“So what are you doing at this party? Did you come with friends?” You asked, practically yelling at Ethan as the two of you continued to dance. It was a little awkward, but he seemed engrossed, stooping down to give you an answer.

“Yeah! I came with some friends, and my roommate. They’re around here somewhere.” Ethan replied, grabbing you and pushing you aside to avoid being smacked by flying arms and stray bodies.

As Ethan briefly looked through the crowd, he noticed Chad somewhere on the other side, cheering him on with a toothy grin. It gave him a bit of a confidence boost, no matter how small it seemed to be. You were so beautiful, jubilant and vibrant, moving with the music.

The way he looked at you was mesmerizing, the stare of a charmed, smitten boy. You were the center of gravity, the sun — bright and shining just for him. Admittedly, you weren’t oblivious, and if it weren’t for the sea of people, you might’ve been emboldened enough to kiss him.

The music began to dissipate, song trailing off into the next track. “Do you want to go somewhere else to talk?” Ethan asked, surprising you by being the first to make a move. You wondered if he really meant talking, but either way, you were happy.

“Yeah.” You nodded, reaching for his hand as he escorted you out of the dance room and toward the staircase. The two of you carefully avoided any stragglers slumped on the stairs, slipping past a gaggle of girls stumbling down from the bathroom.

Once you were upstairs, things became more hushed altogether. Even just standing on the balcony provided some relief as he ran a hand through his mop of curly hair, glancing down at you with a smile. “Is this better?” He asked, leaning against the bannister,

An amused chuckle escaped you as you nodded, tilting back against the wooden post at the top of the staircase. “Much better,” You mused, absentmindedly biting at your lower lip. “You know, if you wanted to be alone, all you had to do was ask.”

Ethan’s countenance flushed from ivory to scarlet within the blink of an eye, throat becoming dry as he attempted to come up with some viable excuse. “It’s not that, I just — Shit. This isn’t what it looks like.” He groaned, feeling your hand slip around his.

“Ethan,” You murmured, canting your head to one side. “You need to stop psyching yourself out.” Another giggle left you, enough to reassure him, put his nerves to rest as you coaxed him closer. You tugged on his hand, leading him toward a room somewhere in the back hallway.

Wordlessly, you slipped inside, realizing that this was likely someone else’s room — one that was clearly unoccupied. It was all nondescript and outfitted with the bare essentials of a dorm, lights dimmed as you shut the door behind the both of you.

Your back gently pressed against the uncomfortable wood of the door as you latched it, ensuring that no one would be barging in anytime soon. Ethan appeared both excited and bewildered, chomping at the bit to finally touch a girl. He’d been lonely for so long — and now, fantasy was becoming reality.

“Are you sure? I — What if somebody hears us or comes knocking?” Ethan asked. In all actuality, he didn’t care whatsoever. He was aching, desperate to feel you and be inside of you, if you let him. The idea of losing his virginity to a beautiful girl at a party was enticing.

Neglecting to offer an answer to his constant string of worrying, you decided to change course. “Kiss me.” You whispered, feeling a pang of molten heat hit your stomach when Ethan practically pounced on you, lips messy and inexperienced as he kissed you.

The stiff cardboard of his helmet bumped into your face, causing you to giggle. Ethan became crimson-faced, swiftly tossing it behind him onto the gray carpet. Without hesitation, he grabbed your face, kissing you again with a low groan.

Music blared from downstairs, bass able to eclipse all of the noise emerging from the guest room. Your hands moved toward his shoulders, lips tangling with his as he readjusted his grip. Ethan’s palms sank into your soft curves, clutching at your hips above the dress.

“I’ve never done anything like this before,” Ethan mumbled, peering at you through his lashes. “I want to learn, though.” He wasn’t clueless — he’d watched things online before and indulged in the company of his right hand on multiple occasions.

Gentle laughter escaped you, accompanied by a twinge of understanding. “I don’t know if I wanna go all the way in the guest room of a frat house,” You mused, fingers shifting to rake through his hair. “It’s okay, Ethan. I’m not worried about it.”

Ethan relaxed, visibly reassured by your words before you tapped a nail against the cardboard cutout framing his chest. He got the hint, happy to be rid of the ridiculous costume. He didn’t care very much for it — you, on the other hand, looked ethereal.

Instead of you steering him around, he took ahold of your hands, coaxing you toward the unmade mattress. He had a vivid idea of what he wanted to do to you. Ethan watched with wide, desirous eyes as you sat down, flesh crawling with heat when he stood between your legs.

To your complete delight, Ethan sank down onto his knees, all six feet and two inches of him, hands gently caressing your legs. “You’ll tell me if I’m not doing something right, yeah?” He prompted, sucking in a sharp breath when you kissed him.

He was tall, and you didn’t have to stoop very much at all to reach him, feeling his fingertips tease the hem of your dress. Your fingers scraped against the nape of his neck, pushing themselves throughout his mop of curly hair. The soft groan that escaped him made your heart flutter.

“I’ll tell you.” You murmured, watching as he sheepishly tilted inward for another kiss. Ethan’s hands began to creep underneath your dress at a snail’s pace, exploring every inch of you. You felt velveteen beneath his fingertips, like a fine silk.

“Can I take your dress off?” Ethan murmured, peering at you through thick eyelashes. His breath hitched within his throat as you reached toward your back, unzipping the shimmering garment.

You neglected to shimmy out of the snug fabric, letting it pool around your chest, instead. “All yours.” Your hand dipped toward the silvery straps around your ankles as you stepped out of your heels.

Ethan swallowed the lump of excitement that coalesced within the back of his throat, hands curling into the hem of your dress. Sluggishly, he began to coax the fabric down, mesmerized by the way you lifted your hips, wordlessly assisting him.

The thin straps of your lace brassiere clung to your chest, accompanied by a matching pair of panties. Ethan’s sigh was shaky, quivering with a tremor of delight as he grabbed your thighs, body pushing them apart.

“You’re so beautiful.” A low, throaty groan escaped him, lips agape as he pressed a kiss against your thigh. Even your smell was intoxicating, swarming his senses like a heady tidal wave. He didn’t know where to start, but he had an idea of what he wanted.

Swallowing his bout of nervousness, Ethan continued to kiss along your leg, feeling your fingers curl into his hair. The little tugs and motions you made only served to make his heart beat faster, goosebumps coalescing along his spine. His hands curled into the waistband of your panties, inching them down your legs.

You squirmed, chest fluttering with warmth as he looked to you for consent, skin flush with scarlet. “Please, Ethan.” Your hips jolted forward, aching for his mouth, fingers — anything that he was willing to give you. “Please keep going.”

Ethan loved that — he loved hearing you beg.

He wondered what it’d be like to make you cry, perhaps toy with you, knife in-hand, make you writhe. Some sinister part of him wanted to hear you say it again, and without thinking, his mouth moved before he could comprehend anything else.

“Say it again,” Ethan urged, chest rising and falling with soft pants as he clutched at your legs. The doe-eyed expression on your countenance only added fuel to the now-raging fire, and he watched with silent glee as you let out a soft whine. “Please.”

“Ethan, please,” Without hesitation, you pleaded with him, desperate for friction — for any shred of it. Your voice rose an octave, bleeding heat from between your legs. “Please, please,” You moaned, watching the way his pupils expanded with lust. “I want you — want your mouth.”

Despite his inexperience, Ethan was prepared to follow basic instinct, palms smoothing themselves along your thighs until he held your hips. His head dipped between your thighs, tongue sluggishly swiping along your cunt, familiarizing himself with your taste.

Your back arched, stomach swirling with an excitable heat as he took his time. There was something exploratory in-nature, a desire to savor you. His cock strained against the front of his jeans when your nails gently raked themselves over his dark curls.

He shuddered with delight, ministrations lacking any haste. Ethan went slow, almost painfully so, tongue dutifully lapping at your cunt as he kneaded into your hips. The sounds that escaped you were divine — intoxicating, really.

The bass of the music thundered underneath the both of you, and any footsteps that reverberated close by were met with indifference. He was buried between your legs, lips caressing your core as he traced along your slit. Your hips jolted forward, desperate for any scrap of friction he provided.

“Ethan,” You moaned, pleasantly surprised by how eager he was. A surge of molten heat coalesced within the pit of your stomach, churning with excitement and desire. You gingerly tugged at his curls, feeling his tongue sweep over your clit. “A—Ah! Right there!”

He paused, mouth clamoring to find that sweet spot of yours, feeling you steer him in the right direction. He lapped at your clit, cock throbbing with an urgency when you whimpered. Ethan hunched forward, gently placing one of your legs on his shoulder.

Ethan felt a newfound rush of confidence, skin hot and visage flushed as he ate you out, increasing his pace and intensity. It became somewhat sloppy, a mess of tongue and desperation, aroused by the noises that escaped you and the constant pressure of your hand in his hair.

What he wouldn’t give to watch you by yourself — a picture for later, or touching you while you slept. The thought of you beneath him, begging for more, tears in your eyes — he groaned, cock straining against the front of his jeans.

His heart hammered erratically, mirroring your own galloping heartbeat as he kissed your clit, tongue messily lapping wherever he could. You squirmed again whenever he touched that sensitive clutch of nerves, slumping backwards onto the mattress.

“Fuck, you’re addicting,” Ethan groaned, and that was enough to get you to whimper. You’d never been called that before, and the way he half-whined the words himself made your hips buck forward. “So pretty.” He whispered, nearly in disbelief as he lapped at your clit.

Your stomach sloshed with molten heat, lips agape as another moan tore past your mouth. He was working wonders, nails digging into your haunch, causing goosebumps to prickle along your thighs. “I want you to use your hand.” You sighed.

Ethan knew that he wouldn’t last long himself watching you, and when you sat up, he was scarlet-faced and visibly pained. “I—I’m sorry.” It was as if his confidence had shattered completely. He was a little embarrassed about how hard he’d gotten from this, but you seemed understanding.

“Come here,” You gestured toward the empty spot next to you, and Ethan quickly sat down. Without hesitation, your hands flew to his belt, unzipping his jeans as you reached into his boxers. “Together.”

His breath hitched within his throat as he ushered you into his lap, hovering above one of his thighs. Ethan kissed you, swallowing your needy moan in the process — you could taste yourself, the lewdness of it all. He didn’t need any guidance as he slid two fingers against your slick cunt.

It was instantaneous — the both of you were catching fire, succumbing to basic instinct and desire. You began to steadily stroke along his cock, thumb caressing the tip of his erection, oozing with precum. Ethan gasped, hips stuttering as he bucked into your palm.

Your body rolled into his hand, digits sluggishly seeking your entrance. You guided him there, noticing the way his gaze had flickered from your face to your body. You whimpered when he sank his fingers into your tight heat, pistoning in and out.

A string of saliva connected your swollen lips to his, but Ethan didn’t stop kissing you. They turned from gentle and exploratory to rough and wanton, tongue briefly tangling with yours.

Between the dimly-lit, sienna glow of the room and the thrum of the bass downstairs, you were lost in his touch, floating away into the blissful taste of his mouth. He was all around you and in your blood, like the surging of the music.

You didn’t stop whatsoever, palm slick with his precum as you pumped along the length of his cock, mesmerized by that glazed, lovestruck look in his eyes. You were wonderfully naive, oblivious to the hungering darkness and obsession that rested within Ethan’s pretty stare.

“I want you.” Ethan’s voice reverberated in between strings of heated kisses, sending a wave of heat all throughout your body. There was a stark juxtaposition between the meek, inexperienced boy and the darker, deeper tone he had just now.

You felt his desire seep into your very bones, rocking atop his thigh as his digits continued to piston in and out. Ethan was content to finger-fuck you into your orgasm, thumb seeking to toy with your clit. It caused you to gasp and shiver with delight, feeling his teeth momentarily catch your lower lip.

A soft, simpering whine left you, one hand digging into the nape of his neck as the other stroked along his cock. The intensity only continued to mount, rising like the swell of a tide. Ethan’s hips began to stutter as he let out a groan of his own, cumming into your palm.

It was messy, hot and sticky in glistening tendrils across your thigh, and you were right behind him. As you sank forward, he curled his fingers just slightly, sending you into the white-hot explosion of your release. There was a newfound spot on his jeans from where you’d been moments prior.

“Shit,” He huffed, somewhat abashed about making such a mess. His curls were disheveled, flesh shimmering with perspiration, face noticeably flushed. “Ah … Sorry.” Admittedly, Ethan loved the sight of you like this, stained with his seed, but he didn’t want to scare you off.

As you recuperated, you reached for your dress, unable to bite back the smitten smile on your features. “It’s okay,” You giggled. “I thought it was hot.” You confessed, using the spare t-shirt in your purse to clean yourself up. Something to throw in the washer, later.

Ethan blushed, clamoring to zip his jeans up as you shimmied back into your panties and dress. He noticed you struggling with the zipper towards the small of your back. “You need some help?” He asked, voice unusually soft as he stepped closer.

“Thank you,” The gesture was sweet, something that you didn’t expect. Regardless, you let him zip you back up, noticing the way he’d simply lingered close by as you buckled your heels around your ankles. “I should get going. I’m sure my friends are wondering where I am.”

“Wait,” Ethan’s hands involuntarily flew toward your hips, gently pulling you close. “I want to see you again.” Even if he had duplicitous methods of getting your phone number, he wanted this to be organic.

“Okay,” Despite having a hookup in the empty room of a frat house, you did want to see him again, too. He was painfully sweet — and that was hard to come by. “I want to see you again, too. Here.”

You wrote your number down on the cardboard chest-plate of his knight costume. He said he left his phone back at the dormitory — and you came prepared with the half-dried ink pen wasting away in the bottom of your purse.

By the time you and Ethan made it back out to the party, he was being hauled away by his friends, and you had found your group again.

If he had it his way, the next time you’d see him, you’d be at the end of his knife.

[sunsetsoft]

🍒 ooc. i know there abt a hundred different posts to this affect, but i wanted to make my own. i do not expect speed. i truly don't. it's nice, but i'm in my 30s, everyone here are adults, that makes life busy just by default, not to mention the curveballs life throws, not to mention mental health in several different shades and difficulties, plus physical health, and also not to mention that writing can be a fickle hobby with inspiration and everything else. i am not particularly fast most of the time. i am thrilled to hear back, and i am thrilled to receive memes and replies when they happen. but this is a hobby. we're not here to turn this into a job, we're not here to make this an obligation, we're here to have fun. i wait eagerly and patiently to read anything that happens, but i'm not expecting responses to be "in a timely manner", you could reply literally months or even years after the fact. i am just happy i am here and you are here and we are here! i know i can be an enthusiastic when it comes to messages when i see something that makes me think of our muses, or have an idea whether that's based on something you've said on the dash, in our dms or just because something struck me at 3am and i must share it with you right now, i know i send millions of memes (and this is so you have options to pick from, and are by no means obligated to reply to all of them, or even any of them if you're not feeling it). i know i can be incredibly bad at getting back to messages, or letting my replies and memes gather dust until inspiration strikes, or my brain isn't too foggy to write, or my body isn't in too much pain to do anything at all. i know these are things other people also deal with, on top of literally just. jobs. friends. other hobbies. i do not expect or require speed. i'm excited about what we're writing, but you are more important than churning out a reply for me, regardless of whether we have chatted at all, whether we are friends, or just getting to know one another.

[storydays]

My Bookworm

Shy!Clay X Actor!Male!Reader

This takes place after the movie. Lots of Descendants references and one or two Helluva Boss references, I own nothing but this fanfic!

(3rd POV)

Clay laughed as Viva and Poppy dragged Brozone along. Since some of them have been disassociate from Pop Culture for 20 years, Queen Poppy decided to show them some of the new stuff they'd been missing out on.

Today, it was a movie premiere and there was a bonus performance from one of the actors. "Girls, slow down, they can't start until y'all are there anyway." JD laughed as the two royals smiled sheepishly and walked at a slower pace, finally arriving.

"So what's this movie about anyway?" Clay asked Branch. The blue-gray Troll went to answer when Poppy interrupted talking a million miles. "OhmygoshClaythismovieisthethirdofapopularfranchiseanditsbaouttheoldfairytalecharactershavingkidsandwefollowthekidsintheiradventures--" "Poppy,breathe!" Branch chided, shaking the Queen's shoulders with a grin.

In that moment, Clay was thankful for being used to Viva's motor mouth that he understood every word she had said. Their brothers on the other hand...need Branch to slowly repeat what was said. As he explained, he listened to the trolls chattering behind him.

"Oh me gosh, I can't wait to see Nix, daughter of Nebula! She can be my captain anytime." giggled a teal Glitter Troll seductively.

"Forget that, I can't wait to see (Y/N)! He looks so good in red." A Rock troll yelled, throwing up the goats, and making an indecent gesture.

"Who's (Y/N)?" wondered Clay aloud. "'WHO'S (Y/N)?'" The rock troll grabbed the taller Troll and shook him insanely, "(Y/N) is only the hottest actor in all of Pop Troll History! He's won a Glitter XXX award 9 times in a row! He is--"

"Well," chuckled a thick Australian accent, drawing everyone's attention, "That's quite an introduction, but I think you oughta let 'em go now." The Troll speaking, pushed down his shades to glare at the Rock Troll. "Oh my God," Smidge yelled distantly, "It's (Y/N)!" Suddenly cheers and screams echoed through the arena, but honestly, none of that mattered to Clay. All that mattered was those pretty (e/c) eyes and how suave the superstar Troll was dealing with his fans and making his way over......'Wait! He was making his way over, don't blow this Clay!' He screamed in his head.

"You alright, mate?"(Y/N) smiled, holding a hand out to the taller Troll on the floor from where he was dropped.

"Wow, you are hot.."Clay said confidently before realizing what just came out of his mouth, and his fur turned a dark blue as his cheeks flushed.

His brothers were doing their best to hold back their laughter, seeing their usually confident brother be turned to into a blushing schoolboy.

(Y/N) blinked and laughed loudly, before helping Clay up. "I like you, you remind me of the first time I saw my friend, King Trollex, with his hair down for the first time. I was like, 'Oof, you're one good lookin' bloke.' But then I wanted to die.." (Y/N) continued to talk, not notcing Clay's discomfort. "Because, Trollex is like a really great friend to me, and I'm just like, gross....." The movie star paused and looked to the side with narrowed eyes, "I could tap that." He mused, before shrugging and turning back to the taller Troll.

"Anyway, why don't you and your friends come with me, and you guys can come backstage, get a real nice view of the show. Crikey, I don't think I got ya name..."

"Uh, I'm single. Damn it." Clay face palmed. "Ha! Nice to meet you Single. Well, c'mon, it's almost show time!" (Y/N) waved off security as Brozone and the Pop sisters followed behind, teasing Clay along the way.

"Well, here are the best seats in the house! You can watch the shows from here, and afterwards, Single, if ya don't got any plans, I was thinkin' we could go to this great sanger shop nearby." (Y/N) pushed his shades up on his head and offered Clay a hopeful smile.

Clay stuttered over his words before Bruce smacked him on the back, almost as if he were a record player and coughed. "That's a snager?" Clay wondered. "Heh, it means sandwich, mate."

Now knowing what the other Troll wanted to do, Clay nodded eagerly. "Yeah, yeah that sounds great." "Great! Well, gotta go. Be back soon, and hey, enjoy the show, huh?"

With a final wave, the movie star rushed off. Leaving Clay at the mercy of his brothers. Clay brushed it all off, too ecstatic to even be embarrassed.

The lights dimmed and the teasing stopped to watch the show.

*end*

[thevoiceofthebard]

Chapter 1 - Ulfric I: Unbound

Sundas, 17th of Last Seed. 4E201 Early Morning

Ulfric Stormcloak

I am Ulfric Stormcloak. Jarl of Windhelm. Student of the Greybeards of High Hrothgar. Leader of the Revolution of the Sons of Skyrim.

And this is the day of my death.

Today, I leave the mortal plane behind, to join my brothers and sisters in Sovngarde. I can only hope the gods forgive the transgressions I have committed in pursuit of justice. But then the timing of the Imperial ambush that leads us now to our deaths was so perfect... Perhaps the gods have abandoned us. Although I find treachery a far more likely explanation.

Our carriage jumps around as we pass over a pothole, pulling me away from my thoughts. I look around, curiosity getting the better of me. From the multitude of pine trees around me, I know we're somewhere in the Hold of Falkreath. Nature flourishes in the south of Skyrim - mountain flowers, nightshade, and thistle abundant, deer grazing at the edge of the deep shade of the woods - but I confess it holds less grandeur for myself compared to some of my brethren. My childhood was filled with grand stone walls, surrounded by frozen tundras and volcanic fields. The Throat of the World towers above us, throwing dark shadows for miles, making the morning seem darker than it should. An ominous sign. No doubt the Greybeards still harbor resentment toward me for abandoning my studies at its peak. But no amount of meditation would cool the fire in my veins, could never satisfy my need to protect my homeland, when the call to battle came so long ago. I often wonder how the world would be had I remained a disciple of The Way of the Voice.

Another jolt. Poorly maintained roads. No doubt a result of Jarl Siddgeir diverting funds to the Empire, against me. A groan draws my attention in close to my fellow cart mates - and prisoners. Across from me, a man in rags. A thief by the look of him, and a coward. He's done naught but complain the last hour. Next to him sits a man in my own colors. Ralof, if I remember correctly. Yes... A passionate young man, though somewhat unremarkable. I want to speak, reassure him. But the cloth in my mouth prevents me from doing anything but breathe, and even that takes effort. Beside me is another man in rags. Unlike the thief, though, he has an aura of culture about him. Beneath the recent bruising and dirt, his face is angular, his hair groomed; even after being tossed unconscious into the cart with us. In the wrong place at the wrong time, and now the Empire will surely punish him for it. Bastards.

The three have been bickering while I mused. I hadn't noticed until Ralof mentioned my name, startling the others. "Ulfric? The Jarl of Windhelm? You're the leader of the rebellion!" I'm not sure to be flattered or insulted that the thief didn't recognize my face. Panic enters the man's voice as he realizes the severity of his situation; I doubt he will make it anywhere near the headsman's block. "But if they've captured you... Oh gods, where are they taking us?"

Ralof's words echo my thoughts. "I don't know where we're going. But Sovngarde awaits."

I lose interest as the soldier begins comforting the distraught thief. The other prisoner - a Breton by the name of Talao, I learn as Ralof asks - is handling the situation far better than I would have assumed, though he keeps glancing at me questioningly. Though something about his quiet confidence interests me, I ignore him in favor of watching the road ahead. All too soon, I see our destination. Helgen. Of course; there's an Imperial bastion here. I can hear the sounds of a bustling town slowly waning as our procession enters. Imperial archers line the walls, obviously dying to loose their arrows into any foolish enough to take off.

"Look at him," I hear Ralof spit, "General Tullius, the military governor." The military fop; he interests me not. "And it looks like the Thalmor are with him. Damn Elves." Though his words are heated, they turn the blood in my veins to ice. I turn, and sure enough, next to Tullius sits an Altmer in pitch black clothes. Elenwen, of all people.

Shor save us. What is that Thalmor bitch doing here?... Her presence can't possibly be coincidence. Have the Thalmor finally decided to clean up loose ends? Is she here to ensure my death, or are her machinations more devious? Through it all, I refuse to back down from her damned condescending sneer. I return her smug stare with venom. You don't own me, elf. You never have.

Finally, the carts come to a stop. The horse thief is hyperventilating now, and rambling in terror. I honestly want to punt the coward out of the cart, but it's beneath my dignity. My men look to me for composure. I must be above such pettiness. I notice the other prisoner tumble out of the cart with a cry of pain after me. I notice, as Ralof helps him up, that his leg seems oddly twisted, as if deformed. An old wound, then. Still, there is no time to reflect as the Imperials have already begun to open their lists. The names of every known dissident of the Empire are written on those lists. Surprisingly, I find the Imperial standing in front of me, condemning my soldiers, is a fellow Nord. Another traitor to his people. It disgusts me that one could renounce their ideals so freely, for mere politics.

"Ulfric Stormcloak!"

First to go, then. I shrug off the Imperial hand upon my shoulder, as he leads me away from my compatriots. Ralof calls to me, but I can barely hear him over the blood rushing through my ears as I survey the scene. The headsman stands before us, his axe well-sharpened and gleaming, the chopping block lying at the ready. I should have known better; as if the Empire would bother with a trial. Seems they've given up even the pretense of justice now. All the better. If nothing else, more and more people will soon realize the justness of our cause and fly to our banner as the Empire slowly destroys everything it stands for. Even if the leader of that banner is not myself.

A scuffle reaches my ears behind me, and glance to see the horse thief burst through the line of Imperials. His flight is short-lived, though, and he nearly instantly drops to the ground in a flurry of limbs, numerous arrows buried in his back. I knew he'd never make it to the block. A coward to the end. To Oblivion with him; I've my own date to keep.

By the time all the names had been read, a sizable crowd had formed around the yard, clearly anticipating a spectacle. Nary a friendly face to be found. Tullius walks into the yard, and faces me directly. The esteemed general had obviously been dying to make a speech. "Ulfric Stormcloak. Some here in Helgen call you a hero. But a hero doesn't use a power like the Voice to murder his king and usurp his throne."

A pitiful start. And false on several counts. A retort passes my tongue, but no further, as the gag restrains me. The coward refuses me any last words as he rambles on, addressing the crowd as much as myself, clearly wanting to make some kind of example of the situation. "You started this war, plunged Skyrim into chaos. And now the Empire is going to put you down and restore the peace!" The crowd murmurs in assent, my Stormcloaks in disgust. Personally, I find the man's little speech dull beyond compare. He has no sense of eloquence, his words sounding rehearsed and flat. Even at half his age - perhaps even a third, given his graying hair - I could captivate a crowd with a few sentences, drive them into the heights of passion. I understand the souls of my fellow men, and how to inspire them.

Suddenly, a shriek pierces the mid-morning air. Everyone stirs uneasily, and I admit somewhere in the back of my mind, a twinge of primal fear appears. But it is gone as quickly as it came, and I dismiss the noise; the howl of the wind carving through the mountain pass, perhaps. The crowd swiftly settled as well; a Priestess of Arkay stepped forward to deliver our last rites. More Imperial custom than Nord, but decent of them. Or at least, it would be if their priests did not bow the whims of the Elves.

"As we commend your souls to Aetherius, blessings of the Eight Divines upon..."

"For the love of Talos, shut up and let's get this over with."

The Priestess sounds surprised and affronted as Bjarke - whose heart burns with a passion so great, I sometimes think it burned out his mind - interrupts her and steps fearlessly toward the headsman. I don't know why she reacted as such; one should expect vitriol when you slight a man's god, even a "heretic's." My heart fills with pride as Baldor taunts the Imperials even as they force him down upon the block. Such bravery. Bravery all my Stormcloaks possess. To die for their beliefs, fighting an unjust Empire, whether by sword or axe.

I don't look away or flinch as the axe finishes its deadly arc. I have seen far worse in my life than a body and head separated from each other. The crowd cries out as the body is unceremoniously shoved aside.

"Justice!"

"You Imperial bastards!"

"Death to the Stormcloaks!"

I lock eyes with Tullius as the captain calls out, "Next, the Breton!" Of course. He wants me to go last. To watch as my men lay down their lives, knowing that I will share their fate. I would feel guilt for their deaths, but for the fact that they are not here following my banner; they are here because they followed their ideals.

Another shriek cuts through the air. Much louder than before. And much, much closer. My blood chills. There is no mistaking it for the wind this time. That howl was undeniably the call of an apex predator. Some creature that sits atop the pecking order, and knows it. But what? I've never heard anything like it in my life, though I feel an ancient part of me quail in fear before it. The crowd is visibly agitated now, but the Imperials push on. The Breton is walked to the block. Remarkably, he seems almost uninterested in his impending death, gazing around, as if curious about the sound. In my mind, I honor him. I remember Ralof's earlier words: A Nord's last thoughts should be of home. And so my own thoughts turn to Windhelm. The majesty of the Palace of Kings, where I spent my childhood, and it's storied history. The strength of its walls and its peoples, with whom I strove to make our world a better place.

As the Breton is brought painfully to his knees... I am not a man given to excessive prayer. I have always preferred to proclaim my faith through the truth of actions than through words that have no substance behind them. And yet for this man, whether fearless or foolhardy, I find myself speaking within me. Mighty Talos. I have sought in my life to honour you through battle and glory. I have fought to save your divine name from enemies who would have you struck from the annals of history, and defile all that for which you stand. Should this be my time to die, I embrace it willingly, knowing I have striven my best to achieve my goals, and knowing others will take up your banner in my absence. But I implore you; spare this innocent life before me, whose only guilt lies in poor fortune. He does not deserve to die a meaningless death by the treachery of this false Empire.

So engrossed am I, it is not until someone forces me to the ground that I notice anything wrong. The ground shakes beneath me, and all of Helgen is in an uproar. I look up and freeze from disbelief. Shock and awe bind my feet, but for a moment. Has Talos answered my prayer? Is this a blessing I have brought upon us, or a curse? Someone unties my hands, and I rip the gag from my mouth. I run from the great black beast without a second thought. I never understood the phrase "Discretion is the better part of valor" better than I have this very moment.

"DRAGON!"

Chapter 2 - Ralof I: Unbound

[tinydeskwriter]

CINEMA {Chapter I}

A/n: Someone wrote a lovely comment describing y/n and harry as “ ex lovers with unconditional love that never truly go out of style trope” which is now my very favorite way to describe it, unfortunately, my careless self deleted the comment while trying to delete my own reply—because I post it without being finished (tumblr doing me dirty)— so I dedicate this to her/him/they (?), thank you for the amazing comment.

Thank you to everyone that replied to my desperate need of help to choose Y/n ‘s ex-boyfriend…

I honestly hope not to disappoint you guys with this first chapter, I just wanted to give a first glimpse of Harry and Y/n’s ‘friendship’ dynamic. Also, it’s almost Harry’s birthday!!

Cinema | Previous Part 1.Boyfriends

Harry holds the door open with one hand, as he hold a cup carrier with four coffee drinks in the other—Luis is arriving soon, and Rebekah must already be somewhere in the house with Y/n—, he doesn’t know most of the people passing by him, from the group of fifteen+ he recognizes Chrystal, Y/n lawyer—who in more than one occasion back when they’re dating, managed to get out of circulation invasive paparazzi shots of the young couple—and Monica, her publicist since 2012, Rebekah was right behind them, escorting them all to the door.

Rebekah is their age, pixie hair, New York accent, always in flowy blouses and high waist jeans, Y/n’s PA, friend and confidante.

“Good morning H, I am going to take this, thank you.” The woman took her usual order and went back inside, turning back a few steps in, “She’s in the music room.”

“Thank you Bekah.” He said closing the door behind himself and taking the opposite direction from the PA.

The music room was one of Y/n favorite places in her house, a large space with two walls made of glass overlooking the pool, with a view of the city and the park. It’s where she keeps her prized Concert Grand Piano in custom Sycamore wood adorned with a gold leaf mural of London’s skyline around the entire case of the piano, a twenty-first birthday gift by Harry—which her boyfriend at the time saw as competition and got her a 61’ Rolls Royce Silver Cloud II in an auction. 

Y/n’s enviable guitar and vinyl collections occupied the two inner walls, the only sitting furniture in the room—other than the piano bench—was the Bellini U-shaped couch from the 70’s in burnt orange velvet and Gucci throw pillows. The piece de resistance was the Brionvega RR126 Y/n inherited from her grandfather.

He found her laying in the couch reading what seemed to be a script.

She looked completely fine for someone who just sold 50% of what she called ‘her first born’, Harry was honestly expected a little bit of nostalgia or melancholia from his little love.

“Got you coffee.” He put the cup in her hand and kissed the top of her head as a greeting before sitting down next to her, his own coffee in hand.

Y/n hadn’t even took her eyes out of the pages.  

“How are you feeling?”The question finally made her put the script down on her lap, and sip her coffee before looking at him.

“I feel like I just sold half of my soul to the devil for $500million dollars.” She said deadpanned. 

Harry looked at her with furrowed brows. 

“So why sell?” He asked slightly confused.

Y/n had started Muse unpretentiously, her goal was simply to offer to the costumers something that lacked in the market: an all-inclusive, vegan, high quality and affordable priced make-up and skincare line. Muse became a beauty empire that included even daily/basic lingerie and loungewear in 69 sizes and 15 nude colors—going by Y/n’s philosophy that basic doesn’t need to be ugly, ‘nude tones’ meant different shades from beige and pretty stuff should fit everyone. 

It was her passion project. 

“I don’t have the hours in a day for everything I need to do, and I want to have a life, I want to be able to dedicate myself to relationships.” She said honestly. “LVMH is the same parent company that owns half of Fenty Beauty, they are the only ones that agreed to my terms, I get creative control and veto vote, the company philosophy stays the same, I am getting a female CEO of my choice, and Muse gets global distribution, we’re going to be available at Sephora, Harvey Nichols, Boots, Ulta at a even more affordable price.”

Harry nodded. She has handing over some control of her company to have more control of her life. It was almost poetic in a sense.

“And what is this about?”the 'Adore You' crooner points to the script on the youngest's lap, he knew her well enough to know when he need to change the subject.

“Robert Eggers’ new project...but first...”She stops, looking seriously at Harry, “how was it with Olivia?”

Harry and Olivia had agreed to meet that morning to discuss their relationship.

Olivia apparently felt that tempers had run out, and that everything had been left very much up in the air.  

Y/n didn't even know what was going on between the two until her former director called Harry the night before while they were getting ready for dinner, and even then she had only managed to get Harry out of the fact that they had had a fight before he came to her aid.

She had a suspicion there was trouble in paradise after Harry spent the third night in a row sharing a bed with her without his girlfriend's interference.

The man sigh, close his eyes and rest his head against the back of the couch.

“Was it that bad?” Y/n watches Harry closely.

Y/n honestly didn't like Olivia, and it wasn't even because the older one was dating Harry—which she personally found unethical and unprofessional, the kind of thing that causes a stain in someone’s career, specially with the whole scandal surrounding it.

The former Angel could write an entire essay about all her reasons to dislike Olivia Wilde, but in short it would resume to Olivia was simply an amalgamation of the kind of person Y/n looked down on in the industry: ambitious personality, fake character, and acting according to convenience.

She would never mistreat the woman or say a word against her in front of Harry, but that didn't mean she approved of their romance. 

And Y/n knew Olivia didn't like her either, she could see it in the older woman's catlike eyes, her years in the fashion industry made her perceptive of those kind of things. 

Olivia tolerated her for Harry, and had unwillingly offered the role of Violet to her under pressure from Warner Executives who saw Y/n as yet another money grab for the film—like Harry, she had a fanbase and more Instagram followers than the entire cast put together—and which she only accepted at Florence and Harry's request.

“We talked, we agreed that after our fight it's best to take some time off from each other, I have the tour, she still has to sort it out with Jason regarding the kids, we'll keep in touch, but we'll have a more definitive conversation when this leg of the tour is over to know where we stand.” He told her everything in one breath.

“And how do you feel about that?” The woman take a sip of her coffee.

Harry sighs again, running his hands through his hair in an anxious gesture

“I honestly don't know.” He confess. “I care about Olivia…”

“But you don’t love her…”Y/n completed. “That’s tough.” She nodded. “Do you think it’s a matter of time? Like, you can come to love her?”

“Yeah, sure…”He don’t look so sure. “Olivia is cool, she’s so intelligent and eloquent…” Y/n wide her eyes a little, condescending and pretentious fit Olivia better in her opinion. “If I am honest, our relationship hasn’t been a thought in my head for three days, this kinda of says something…”

“This actually screams something.” She said against her coffee, only to get a disapproving look from Harry. “H, you mistook the excitement of the honeymoon phase for something else and you stepped heavy footed into the relationship, I mean you moved her in three months after you guys started to date, we all told you it was too soon…”

“She needed a place to stay, things with Jason were though.” Harry defended his actions.

“And why is that?” The question was rhetorical, followed by a humorless laugh. “H, I love you, but you’re too good for this world.”

Harry looks at her with his brow frown. “Why?”

“My Love, everyone knows she broke up with Jason after you guys blurred the line, Florence told me that Jason and her acted pretty couple-ish the times he took the kids to visit, and that only changed after you started to spend too much time in her trailer.” Y/n told him what her and the girls had debated so many times before in their slumber parties over copious amounts of tequila. “Even Gemma agrees, and she’s like completely against talking about peoples life.”

The man stayed silent for a moment, absorbing what he had heard.

There was only one thing he wanted to know after hearing her thoughts.

“You never said anything against the relationship before.” It wasn’t even a question

“Because I want you happy, and you seemed happy with Olivia, that’s all I care about, it doesn’t matter if I don’t like the woman,” she answers with honesty. “I would never criticize your taste in women, the same way you never criticized my bad choices in men.” She jokes to lighten the mood.

Harry chuckles, eyes closing and dimples showing. 

The musician stopped criticizing Y/n’s boyfriends after the second time she got back with Abel after he got together with Selena while they’re on a break—he did wrote her na album as na apology. He kept quiet about Charlie—needy, jealous Charlie—, and bit his tongue with Jack—flirting, handsome Jack, even Harry would have to admit the younger man knew how to be charming—.

He liked Jack less than he liked Abel.

And he had despised Abel because they got together not long after their break up, and Harry was still hung up on her, regretting his decision to end their relationship. But it was too late, Abel swapped her off her foot the minute their break-up was announced, taking her on a first date in Dubai just months later, the beginning of their whirlwind, world wide romance that just ended for good in 2019.   

Jack, Harry hated him because he seemed less invested in the relationship than Y/n. He showered her with flowers and gifts and pretty words, but he was always away and it was always Y/n traveling to him. His Little Lovie was a woman in love with love, she always invested herself in the relationships, and was always heartbroken when things didn’t worked out in the end.

They were interrupted by Rebekah holding a lovely flower arrangement in her hands and an apologetic expression on her face. “Y/n…” 

The actress turned to where her PA stood in the doorway, the young woman rolled her expressive eyes at the peonies, ranunculus and carnations bouquet. 

“Beks…” Y/n sigh. “Just put it in the guest house, will you? Please.” She asked, and the held up her hand, stopping Bekah from leaving the room. “On second thought, it would be sad to let all those beautiful flowers go to waste, see if you can get a van to transport them all to the nearest nursing home.”

The assistant nodded and was already turning to leave the room and start to making calls when this time it was Harry who stopped her.

“Call Jeff, we have a van to transport instruments that you guys can use.”The musician offers.

“Thank you, H.”The young woman said honestly, with a bit of relief showing in her face.

The former couple turned best friends watch her leave the room before going back to their conversation. 

“Is he still sending you flowers?” He points to where Bekah disappeared with the flowers. 

Y/n just rolls her eyes. “I feel like I can open my own flower shop.” She takes another sip of her coffee. “He’s still blowing my phone.”

“Are you going to talk to him?” Harry takes a sip of his coffee, watching her closely.

“NO!”She says categorically. “I played this back and forth game with Abel, I am not doing it again with Jack.” She sighs. “But I still have to see him at least at the VMA’s, I can’t pull back at the last minute.”

“Shit, I had completely forgot about that.” Sometimes he forgot that she was what the industry called a triple threat: she acts, she dances and she sings, she had already used her voice in three movies. 

With her always dating musicians, it was actually an impressive feat that none before Jack had put her vocals on a track—Harry did, but they aren’t dating at the time he recorded her for TPWK. 

No one ever thought that ‘Into Your Arms’ would blow up the way it did, it was a romantic—that in some ways reflected Y/n and Jack’s relationship at the time—song, and Tik-Tok and Instagram Reels made it a huge sensation.

“Yeah, we have to perform it on the 11th.” She honestly wished there was a shot of vodka in her coffee. “Let’s talk about nice things now, My Love.” She lifts the nearly forgotten script from her lap pushing it towards him. “I need you to do this with me."

{next part}

Taglist: @slutforcoffein ; @lilsiz ; @pandxthings ;

@ameerakane20 ; @angywritesstuff

[petruchio]

PLEASE share your midnights Matty softlaunch theory, it’s such an odd and (to me at least lol) fascinating album

ok so. im going to go into insane detail track by track, but i think midnights makes sense (almost) if we read it as a journey through deciding to leave joe and we read mastermind as being a matty song — so the album is mostly her wondering if this thing she feels with matty is real or in her head, and then wondering, if it is real, if it’s worth it to make the jump. and i think she was ready to do it, and midnights would’ve been basically the matty “announcement,” but then she and joe made up and the 3am tracks are kind of damage control to confuse the narrative and make it less obvious. but we have to do a bit of digging. so let’s dive in.

(obvi we don’t know what happened for real. but it’s just fun to speculate!!!)

we open with lavender haze. and here we see taylor desperate to stay in the happy, peaceful relationship she’s in — she doesn’t WANT to get married, she doesn’t WANT to be talked about, she doesn’t WANT anything more. she just wants this. it’s enough for her. …or is it?

because immediately, we move to maroon. we go from a pastel purple color to various shades of red, changing the image and flipping back through memories. and these memories call back to a lot of 1989 era imagery — we get the wine stain from clean, the rosy cheeks from wildest dreams, new york… that’s a real fucking legacy to leave. something triggered this little trip down memory lane. maybe they hung out, or someone said something, who knows. but i think this is where the cracks in the lavender haze begin.

and so after all that she takes us to anti-hero. it’s me, hi, i’m the problem. i think this is probably the precursor to guilty as sin? — it’s saying, oh no. i’m the problem, fantasizing about my ex again (i dream of cracking locks, throwing my life to the wolves/i wake up screaming from dreaming) and acknowledges that joe is going to leave her when he finds out (one day i‘ll watch as you’re leaving)

but she can’t stop. the fantasy continues to grow in snow on the beach. this song is filled a bunch of space/sky imagery — “a few moons ago,” “stars by the pocketful,” “your eyes are flying saucers from another planet.” let’s keep track of that imagery. (we’ll return to the all space stuff in a big way in down bad, but don’t worry, it’ll reappear on midnights.)

and then there’s the realization of you’re on your own kid. that’s right — you’re on your own, and you always have been. i think this is her deciding to separate her sense of identity from joe. and the first verse brings up a lot of images we see come back on ttpd: “summer went away, still the yearning stays” -> “another summer/rolling thunder/he don’t understand me” and “it’s okay we’re the best of friends” -> “but tell me who else is gonna know you?” and “you’re smoking with your boys” -> “you needed drugs more.” it’s tempting to interpret the first verse as a retrospective on her teenage years, but it could just as easily be about falling for matty while they were “just friends” and she was still with joe. but i think in yoyok she’s still trying to convince herself it’s not real: “just to learn that you never cared.” matty doesn’t want her, she thinks. but she has her songs. maybe that’s all she ever needed?

this triggers an even larger dive into the past: midnight rain. now she’s wondering if the reason she’s so resistant to marry joe is just a repeat of old patterns, so she dives into the past looking for answers. i maintain that midnight rain is about the muse of debut and i think it’s her looking over her own past and trying to make sense of what’s happening now. am i the problem? was i always the problem? am i incapable of marriage or is it just with this guy?

so now she has to know. she has to get answers. is this fantasy about matty her just replaying old patterns of leaving when things get serious? or is this thing she feels with matty something real? basically, can i ask you a question…? we don’t even need to dive any deeper into the 1989 era of it all. this song is pretty obvious. note that we return to the space imagery though: “does it feel like everything is just like second best after that meteor strike?”

i don’t feel like talking about vigilante shit because it’s a bad song but suffice to say i think it’s just her being admitting she’s okay sometimes being the villain. other than that it’s not really relevant to the matty narrative.

so then we get bejeweled. which was strange when it came out and hasn’t gotten less strange, but it’s kind of another step in deciding to leave joe behind. she can’t marry him, because she’s not sure matty isn’t actually the one for her. “when i meet the band, they ask do you have a man, i can still say i don’t.” is the band… perhaps… the 1975? and this is when she leaves. “what’s a girl gonna do? a diamond’s gotta shine.” she sets herself free. you can try to change her mind, but you can’t. she polished up real nice.

and then we get labyrinth. which to me only makes sense as a post-joe song. “it only hurts this much right now.” “i’ll be getting over you my whole life.” “break up break free break through break down.” but what saves her? the person who comes in right at the last second: matty. he turns the plane around. remember all the space imagery? my flight was awful thanks for asking? well, here he is. uh oh, i’m falling in love again.

and actually… she loves it. it feels like karma. (or maybe destiny.) for all her work, all her struggle, all her pain, she gets the guy in the end: the years of pining and coded songs all add up to this.

but she can’t hate joe. she could never hate him. she might have wanted to leave, but it wasn’t because he treated her badly. he never wanted anything from her. just sweet nothing. i don’t think sweet nothing is a breakup song; it was probably even written as a love song. but its placement on the tracklist makes it feel like a goodbye. “they said the end is coming,” she says. but she needed someone who saw her that way. it’s an i will always love you song. it’s a thank you.

and so we close: mastermind. the planets and all the stars aligned from snow on the beach and question. we’re up in space now. she’s been planting these seeds since back in 2014… and now she has him. matty. she did it. all the wisest women had to do it this way. doesn’t that sound like fucking politics and gender roles? the liquor in the cocktails that she’s always drunk on when she’s around him? but he knew the entire time. she’s a mastermind.

okay so that’s the standard edition. the bonus track being hits different makes sense if it’s the joe breakup — “it hits different this time.” she’s left people before, but never like this. she’s SAD! she’s waiting for his key in the door but it never comes. she might have been the one that left, but it still hurt like never before.

but the 3am tracks are the last bit of the puzzle. and here’s where i think we can take taylor’s word for them as sort of “vault tracks” because they don’t fit in the narrative of midnights, but they tell a story in themselves. and that story is of her and joe getting back together after all this.

the first one she tacks on is the great war, a song about making up after a fight. so she puts that one to first, to reassure that they actually made it through. then i think we get the “cutting room floor” tracks — that is, they’re out of order but all part of the larger story. we get another heartwrenching goodbye in bigger than the whole sky, a return to the delusional lavender haze and staring at the ceiling in paris, a song about cheating in high infidelity. all thematically relevant, but not perfectly fitting into the narrative of the original record.

then we get glitch, which imo is also a matty song. “depending on what kind of situationship im in” read: if joe and i are off or on. “2190 days of our love blackout” read: six years since the 1989 era where they dated originally. “nights are so starry” brings us back to the space imagery, the glitch video on spotify glitching to the 1989 tv of wildest dreams… “it must be counterfeit” will come back too, in loml when she says “something counterfeit is dead.” but here… it’s only getting started.

would’ve could’ve should’ve again sees her examining her patterns with toxic men, and begins a lot of the religious theming we’ll see return on ttpd. and then we close with dear reader, a song about self-loathing, and begging the listener not to take her advice because she’s not really a good person. she admits it: she cheats, she lies, joe has left her alone in the house (not a home, cause nobody’s there.) “you should find another guiding light,” she tells us. but she shines so bright…

anyway yeah. that’s my extended theory. i think it was supposed to be the goodbye to joe and mastermind was introducing matty, but then when they patched it up, the narrative changed and 3am tracks got added on and changed the direction. (it makes sense if those tracks were added on late, since they weren’t available physically for a long time after the record was released. hits different, the song about breaking up with a long term partner… was.) we could deep dive into every song and analyze the lyrical parallels with 1989, folkmore, and ttpd too (don’t get me started on the 1 and cardigan) but we’ll save that for another time.

and of course, we all know what happened next. but we wouldn’t be here without the chaos that was midnights. without it, we might never have gotten an answer to that one, burning question…?

now we have the answer. the only thing that’s left… is the manuscript.

[milky-fixx]

quality time

hitoshi shinsou x reader // bnha // vday snippet // fluff mildly suggestive

You scrutinized your disheveled appearance in the mirror–the tufts of hair sticking out in every direction, bloodshot eyes, and your nose, a shade of red rivaling Kirishima’s hair. 

You were not looking cute right now.

You sighed.

Why did you have the misfortune of getting sick on Valentine’s Day? When you had a hot, pro-hero boyfriend to spend the day with who finally got time off from his hero agency? 

You had the worst luck. 

Shinsou snorted when you plopped down onto the couch beside him with a huff. When he recognized that it was his shirt that rode up your thighs from the action (you’d probably been too lazy to find your own clothes), his fingers twitched. His lips curled upwards in a lazy smile.

“You know…” he mused. “Seeing you look so cute in my clothes… reminds me why I fell for you.” You yelped at the feeling of his hand creeping up your inner thigh, swatting it away. 

“Shinsou,” you whined into the couch pillow, your voice muffled. “Not now.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m sick? And I feel gross?”

He sighed, reaching over to ruffle your hair. “Come on, if you get up, I’ll share my blanket with you,” he offered.

“I’m gonna cough all over that blanket,” you threatened, shifting into comfortable sitting position next to him. You leaned against his shoulder and he wrapped his arm around you, throwing a corner of the blanket over your legs. 

He smirked. “I think I can handle your germs. Not the scariest thing I’ve faced,” he quipped.

You rolled your eyes at him, shrugging his arm off. Shinsou paused at your long-heaved sigh, about to ask you what was wrong when you mumbled, 

“Damn… I wanted to go to the cute crepe place today, you know?”

He shrugged. “We can stay home and watch things here. That’s pretty romantic if you ask me.”

“Shin-sou,” you groaned. “That’s not the point. Today–today was supposed to be special.” You looked up at him, frowning lightly.

He had to bite the inside of his cheek to stifle a laugh–you didn’t realize just how cute you looked when you were pouting. He cleared his throat once he realized how upset you looked. 

“We can do that some other time. We haven’t had the chance to stay at home and spend time together lately.” He eyed you fondly, urging you towards him. You complied, settling between his legs as he rested his chin atop your head, his fingers carding through your hair.

Your eyes slipped shut as you leaned backwards into his touch. Shinsou gave the best head rubs. “Y-You have a point,” you murmured, feeling yourself beeing lulled to sleep. All your worries seemed to dissipate whenever he was near; if you didn’t know any better, you’d assume he was brainwashing you.

But you knew his effect on you had less to do with his quirk, and more of the hold he had over your heart. 

That was, until the hand that had been rubbing your head inched down slowly. At first you thought it was just a massage, feeling his fingers trail down your tense muscles, but by the time they ghosted the curve of your lower back, before cupping your rear, you realized his intentions. 

Your eyes snapped open. 

“Shinsou, you pervert!”

Attempt to seduce girlfriend: failed.

[bearlytolerant]

BLINDSIDED

~glimpse of the past~

:>

send BLINDSIDED for a scene from my muse's past in which they were betrayed or shocked by what someone did

prompt list

Fandom: DD2, Rating: G, Word Count: 493

a goat

Goblins cleared, Iris wanders over to an apple tree and finds a low hanging branch. With a slight jump, she pulls herself up onto the branch and climbs higher to reach the ripened fruit. She’s been traveling all day, getting side tracked by various people who ask her for help and healing and against her gut instinct, she had assisted them. But up here in the tree, she finds some peace and solace. That is until she hears the frantic bleating of goats and the whisper of magic. Crawling toward the edge of the branches, pushing aside leaves to peer out at the sound, Iris spots the pawn who refuses to leave her side. Killing a goat.

Scrambling down from the tree, Iris sprints and tackles the pawn, yanking the staff out of her hand and tossing it. The pawn writhes and struggles against her grasp before Iris backs off, chest heaving and staring daggers at it.

The pawn rises to her feet. “Arisen, have I done something to upset you?” The goat’s blood is splattered up the arms of her billowy sleeves.

Iris balls her fists. “You just killed a goat! It wasn’t doing anything! Mo—” Iris stops herself from speaking it to the pawn.

Mother would have never killed a goat.

This pawn is not her mother though, just a pale imitation. A look-alike and nothing more. Sure the hair is the same shade of purple and her eyes match Iris’ own but this pawn doesn’t look at her with love. She looks at her with expectation. Grief made manifest and she only has herself to blame when she can’t stand to look at it. Iris snatches up the pack meant for supplies and throws it at the pawn.

She catches it without flinching. “If you wish for me to refrain from killing goats, Arisen, I will do as you say.”

The voice is all wrong too. Meek and obedient and too soft. Gwyn thrived off of being called a wastrel, a cur, any name that spoke to her ability to question and defy any demand placed on her. She carved paths where others thought it impossible. Loved wider and deeper than the oceans of this world. Burned bright and hot, yet was so warm when Iris would curl up in her arms. Her mother was home. And this pawn—this pawn—

If she has to hear, “yes master”, or “as you command, arisen”, one more time without rebuttal, she might actually implode.

“I want you to go! Fetch some herbs or something! Just get away from me!”

There is hurt in the pawn’s eyes as they flick from Iris to the ground. Softy she says, “as you wish, Arisen.” She turns away and shuffles up the mountainous path and Iris wanders over to the slain goat. Kneeling, she stretches her fingers out, brushing her index against the dead animal’s white coat but freezes, withdrawing her hand to cover her face.

[lixenn]

I have some questions for Dave this time hehe

What was his first meeting with Chief like?

What was his original hair color?

I wonder if he gets along with Bel?

*crawls out of trenches, bloodied and covered in mud*

"I-" *huff* "I have fought in war and it was close but! I HAVE WON! The evil snippet has not defeated me!"

So now, I can finally answer this!! I'm sorry that it took so long Ein 🫠🥺🥺please forgive my tardiness 😣

Let me satisfy your curiosity!

Original hair color

Dave's hair used to be this really mousy brown and it just wouldn't do! No! He refuses! It was boring and common and absolutly clashed with his vibe so it needed to be adressed immediately. He bleached his hair the first time when he was 14 and it turned out horrible but he was still happy with his shitty dyejob because at least it was unique!

Dave and Bel

Do they get along? Ohhh boy, honey they get along like a house on fire! Dave and Bel often team up for pranks and mischief (Levi is one of their regular victims lol). Surprisingly Chief doesn't actually mind this relationship mostly because Dave tends to curb Bel's more ... homicidal tendencies. Dave prefers leaving his victims alive (though there's no guarentee for their sanity) mostly because killing them would limit his options for pranks. So when Dave and Bel plan mischief Dave puts his foot down about murder.

First meeting

As for that question....

Have a snippet!

The world is undoubtedly cruel. Criminally unjust. Life is filled with hurdles and hardships, with unimaginable challenges and dreadful chores.

Dan has been kicked out of his own office by an overly worried Lussuria.

(Honestly, the audacity of his doctor, the inhumanity. He is seriously considering a lawsuit.)

Apparently working for ten months straight without a break is “unhealthy” and “terrible for the skin, just look at those wrinkles Dani-boy”. Which is ridiculous in his humble opinion, he doesn’t have wrinkles. His skin simply has more character, more definition, that’s all. No wrinkles here, just a well-developed background story edged into his outer shell.

Nevertheless, Dan is left with no other choice than take the day off since he doesn’t want to deal with Lussuria drugging his tea again. One time was more than enough.

Well, at least he can use this opportunity to finally get some shopping done. His sister Is going to skin him alive if he shows up empty handed to her birthday again. Finding the perfect jewellery set to make up for his blunder took him some time but now he can at least cross that off his list.

He is slandering down the empty streets, enjoying the sunshine on his face, when his peaceful musings are interrupted by a body landing right in his path.

…

What?

Dan must have committed war crimes in his past life, it’s the only explanation. His former self probably kicked puppies for fun and slaughtered babies in their sleep because he can’t even take a stroll in the city without someone throwing bodies at his feet.

Puzzled and slightly annoyed Dan takes a closer look at the young man sprawled in front of him.

The first thing that catches his eye is the absolutely garish shade of neon green decorating the top of his head. Whoever did that dye job needs to be fired. His hair isn't the only thing that needed fixing though. He’s covered in bruises and dirt, blood is dripping from his nose and - Dan squints - is that a tooth on the pavement? Yes, it is. … Gross. Hopefully the guy knows a good a dentist.

The sound of footsteps alerts him to the arrival of even more people. Dan inspects the newcomers in irritation. There are three of them, all clad in ill-fitted suits, hair slicked back and fake gold rings on their fingers, making them look like stereotypical comic mafia goons brought to life. It would have been funny and something to laugh over with Squalo over coffee if said goons hadn’t interrupted his quiet afternoon with their petty disputes.

What a drag.

“You have five seconds.”

“Hah?” Goon #1 sneers at him, somehow turning even uglier in the process. “What do ya want, shrimp? Don’t ya see we’re a little busy here.”

Only sheer willpower prevents Dan from inspecting his nails in disinterest. Instead, he crooks an eyebrow, giving the idiotic trio his best deadpan fish stare.

“Three seconds.”

Goon #2 spots the Varia emblem on his hoodie and the Cloud clocks the moment he recognises what it stands for. He shakily points at Dan’s chest. “U-uhm… boss?”

“What?” Goon #1 snaps, but his gaze follows his friend’s finger and all colour leaves his face. “V-v-varia?”

Dan puts his hands in his hoodie pocket and smiles. “You rang?”

The way they freeze like a deer in the headlights. How they start quaking in their knock off designer shoes when realisations dawns upon them. The fear in their eyes.

Ah… making grown men piss their pants with a single look never gets old.

“By the way,” Dan drops his smile, his voice turning ice cold. “Your time is up. Better start running, boys.”

One would think that the Vendice are on their heels with how fast they scrammed.

Now, with that sorted.

Dan looks back the stranger who’s still lazing on the street. “You okay?”

“U-uhm yes…” he stutters with wide eyes that are filled with something uncomfortably close to awe. “Thank you so much.”

Feeling slightly awkward now, Dan avoids his shining gaze. “Don't mention it.”

“But-”

“Seriously don’t,” Dan interrupts him, combing a hand through his hair. He wishes this interaction was over already. He’s no good with shows of gratitude. “You should let a doctor check you over.” That should be enough polite concern, right? “I will be on my way then.”

Dan tries to speedwalk away to avoid further socialising but is hindered by a surprisingly strong grip on his hoodie.

Only his ingrained manners (thanks Mom) prevent him from breaking a hand and escaping anyways, which is probably for the best, the poor guy has enough injuries, no need to add broken bones to the list.

Dan turns around and sighs. “What is it?”

The young man gives him a solid try at puppy eyes. “What’s your name? I’m Dave by the way! You can’t just rescue me like a knight in shining armour and then disappear off into the sunset. That’s not fair at all.” He adds a pout to his pleading expression, which – in Dan’s humble opinion – just makes him look even more pathetic.

“Have you suffered head trauma recently?”

Dave cocks his head, confused. “I mean, one of them kicked my face for a bit but that was nothing, I’m good! They mostly focused on my upper body and limbs.” He lets go of Dan’s hoodie and lifts his shirt up to point at his battered torso in demonstration. “See?”

“Then, why are you spouting nonsense?” Dan takes a step back after he is freed from Dave’s clutches. “Run along and try to avoid getting beat up by shady men in the future.”

The puppy eyes start to fill with fake tears. “But they keep on finding me.”

Dan is suddenly overcome with a desperate need for coffee.

“And that’s my problem, how exactly?”

The responding grin sends shivers down his spine. It reminds him of Bel’s smug smile after he caught another one of his employees in his wire traps.

“Well, all your hard work would go to waste if they came back, wouldn’t it? So, how about you help a buddy out?” Dave winks and it would have been charming if his face wasn’t covered in dried blood. “You can start with your name and we will go from there.”

Dan barely lifted a finger, is this guy on crack? In fact… Is he trying to con him? This feels like a con.

Why did I even bother leaving my room today?

“Look, Dave,” he begins trying to salvage the situation, “if I tell you that Varia Housekeeping is always looking for new members, will you go away and let me enjoy the rest of my day off in peace?”

The other man’s jaw drops like Dan got on his knees and proposed instead of throwing in a job offer as distraction tactic.

Dan takes his surprise as an opportunity to exit the premises once again. This time he isn’t stopped physically but a broken “W-wait” still gives him pause and he reluctantly glimpses back. Dave has dropped his cocky façade leaving behind only shattered pieces and a tiny fragment of hope.

“Please. Tell me your name?”

His voice sounds fragile compared his confident tone before.

…

Dan has always been a sucker for the broken ones, hasn’t he?

Fuck it, in for a penny, in for a pound.

“You can call me Chief.”

---

Hope you liked the little sneak peak into Dave's mysterious past 😊! Honestly the delay was mostly because that meeting was fighting me with tooth and nail but I managed to get it done!

I feel like I wanted to add something else but I forgot because goldfish brain lol

Anyways keep being awesome like the legend you are Ein!! Hopefully I could brighten your dim days in study hell 💕✨😊

[psalacanthea]

WiP Wednesday

Since Durge and Gortash won the Friday poll, I'll pull something out of the other BG3 fic for WiP day. My pace with the new chapter is a little slow, between taking a week off and now dealing with Pain, but hopefully tomorrow I'll be able to focus enough to make some real progress.

From the Astarion x Tav longfic, a little bit of WiP for your amusement. (if you would like to be tagged to do your own in the future, pls let me know)

...

“Well, if you used that sensible mind you keep claiming to have, you’d know that obviously I’m her patron,” Astarion sneered at Shadowheart.  His voice relaxed, going lazy and dismissive once more.  “And muse, naturally.”

Zyn considered drawing a gigantic curly moustache on her sketch of him.  It was rude to interrupt.  “My peerage or lack thereof has not yet been shared– please avoid making assumptions about me.”  No, this wasn’t right.  He looked too…neat and tidy.  She grimaced at her sketch, and then glanced back up at her subject.  “Could I see a little more collarbone on the left side?”

“I’m not giving it away,” Astarion scoffed.

“Darling it’s for aesthetics, not expression of base lechery,” she begged.  “Your neckline is too symmetrical, it doesn’t give me ‘careless dandy’.”

Astarion scowled at her, lifting her stolen goblet as he demanded, “regal!  Make me look regal!”

How dare he not trust her artistic acumen.

“Even if your life depended on you appearing ‘regal’, I doubt I could oblige,” she snapped. "You egregious twink."

Shadowheart laughed faintly.

Astarion gasped, lifting a hand to his chest. His not nearly bared-enough chest.  “How dare you!  I am your patron! I could have you thrown out on the street!”

“Oh please, if there’s one thing upstart would-be nobles need, it’s portrait painters.  There’ll be another dozen of you by teatime.  You can dictate when you pay me, you contrary piss-puddle”  Zyn added shading to his neck, pausing as she glanced up to find his eyes on her.  He didn’t look angry, despite the insult.  He was smiling.  Ugh, that was the wrong expression entirely!  “Tilt your chin to the side!  Again. I told you to stop moving.”

Astarion sighed in annoyance and rolled his head to the left, hair swaying.

“I have no idea what’s going on, and yet I can’t look away,” Shadowheart said.

She settled down abruptly, pausing with one hand on the ground to snag one of Astarion’s pillows.  He made an irritated noise, but didn’t bother retaliating.  Zyn’s briefly riled mood flared up again.  Why could she have a pillow, but Zyn hadn’t been allowed one?

Traitor!

Zyn glared at Astarion until he glanced away from the goblet of wine he was staring into contemplatively. Her nose wrinkled as their eyes met. The pasty reprobate sighed heavily, eyes rolling skyward.

"What now?"

“You’ll not be welcome in my bed any longer if I catch you giving someone preferential treatment over me,” she threatened him.

“You–"  Astarion stared at her in shock, and then laughed, lifting a hand to his mouth. "Aha. Ha!" He dissolved into laughter as he sprawled back onto his pillows, ignoring her scowl.

Zyn slapped her stub of twine-wrapped pencil down on the paper, leaving a crumbled line as the tip snapped. "Stop it."

“Hah! I can’t believe you actually thought that would work!”

“I mean it, this is serious!” she whined as he started laughing over her again, throwing his head back. “You blaggard! That's it. It's moustache time.”

[ryosei-hime]

The Dionysian Aspects of Queen Bee

Looking at Bee through the lens of a devotee of Dionysus is very interesting. So, I thought I’d make a post about it.

Dionysus is often mischaracterized as a drunk, but in reality he’s all about consumption within reason. He encourages drinking to excess so far as it brings you pleasure and joy, but the moment your over-indulgence brings you or others pain or shame, you’ve gone too far. He doesn’t approve of making an ass of yourself.

Which is exactly what you see with Queen Bee and Blitz. The moment Blitz is no longer enjoying himself, but drinking to forget and avoid his problems, she speaks up. If he’s not enjoying himself, she can’t enjoy the energy coming off of him. He’s tainting the punch, killing the vibe.

Dionysus also encourages (especially women and the disenfranchised) to free themselves from the bonds of social restrictions and norms. He influenced women to throw down their weaving, uncover their hair, and run wild in the woods during a time when they rarely got to leave their homes.

We see this with Bee’s party. The guests are all Imps and Hellhounds - those of the lower classes. She chooses to socialize and consort with these classes. While you could say this is because they’re her people, and she’s the progenitor of Hellhounds, she doesn’t have to party with them. She still has a higher position than they do. And while having an affinity for Hellhounds makes sense, she also seems to prefer imps which I personally think points towards simply enjoying the company of lower class demons.

Bee strikes me as someone who would willingly lower herself to their level to an extent for the fun of it. And she may potentially have a preference for those who are more downtrodden in society.

Note I say “to an extent” because she still has power and shows no signs of not wanting it. And she can be a bit rough with her encouragements to party. Her reasons for doing so aren’t entirely altruistic either. She wants others to feel good because she wants to feel good, too.

Dionysus can also be harsh and forceful with his liberation and freedom. It is not always something he allows his followers to choose to engage in. Sometimes, he also throws you into the punch bowl lol.

He’s a powerful God and he has no desire to be anything else. He uses that power and status to get things he wants, fuck with people for fun, and have his own good time. Bee is no more equal to the Hellhounds at her party than Dionysus to the bacchanates of his thiasos. So, in my interpretation, neither wish to actually be equal to the downtrodden they seek to uplift.

I do like to imagine Bee could incite her Hellhounds into a Dionysian frenzy and it would fit with her bee influence fairly well. That is of course just a head canon. But I think it would be a fun power.

Dionysus was also about sexual liberation, and I think she showed a bit of that with her musings over Satan lol.

But, I think, much like Dionysus, Bee is likely an extremely morally complex person. I don’t think she’s as purely good and benevolent as I’ve seen some speculate. Who in Hell is? She’s likely got her darker shades even if on the whole, she’s much more interested in others having fun than some Sins probably are.

Disclaimer: this is just a ramble because I really liked drawing the parallel. It is not an attempt to say that Bee is a terrible, horrible, evil bitch since I know someone will misconstrue it that way somehow, this being the internet and all. But she has notes of a God I worship so it should be obvious that I like her and this is not an attempt at slander.