#A bit different than my usual art but hey

[weaselfactoryex]

A quick lil thing I did for a graphic design class aaa

the weasels... I made them in the style of Simona Merlini

along with an example of her work

[fogwitchoftheevermore]

(context for watcher/listener!sausage can be found in the “videos” tag on my blog if you want it, but this ficlet can be read without said context)

- - -

“Y’know, of all the Hermits I was expecting to be pulling me into a dark corner tonight, I did not expect you to be first, Grian! I love the initiative!”

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that,” Grian says in a voice near a hiss. He’s got Sausage by the wrist, leading him into a small area of the upper floor of the tavern in Sanctaury that does look like it was built for the exact purpose Sausage is implying. Grian decides to ignore that as well.

“What are you doing here?” Grian’s straight to the point. He always has to be, with these Things, if he doesn’t want to get trapped in a loop of slant rhyming pleasantries.

“What do you mean?” Sausage asks, shaking his wrist out of Grian’s tight grip and leaning comfortably against the wall. “This is where I live. It’s my home. If anything, I should be asking you mysterious strangers what you’re doing here, but I’m sure you’ve heard that question enough for one day.”

“You know exactly what I mean.” Grian crosses his arms and tries his best not to look petulant, but he sure feels like it. “I thought They’d given up on trying to snatch me back, so why would They send you of all people? What’s your game?”

Sausage laughs, honest to god laughs, like he can’t believe Grian’s even asking him such a question. Grian thinks it’s a reasonable question, in this scenario, but what he thinks and what’s reasonable rarely seems to matter with these things.

“They didn’t send me,” Sausage looks him up and down in that way that makes Grian have to physically stop himself from curling inwards. This is why he never talks to Them. “Nobody sends me anywhere, they don’t tell me what to do and I like it that way! I just do my own thing. Isn’t that what you’re doing?”

“No you’re not! You’re not- you can’t be! That’s not how this works!” Grian begins to notice that he’s no longer whisper-shouting and starting to just-normal-shout and takes a deep breath, trying not to draw the attention of his friends enjoying themselves on the floor below. And, realistically, in the other dark corners Sausage seems to have built into this place.

“That’s exactly how this works. You didn’t think you were the only person who’d left, did you?”

Grian opens his mouth, closes it, and thinks. In hindsight… yeah, he had kind of assumed he’d been the only person who’d left. Not for lack of trying, probably- but They’d tried for so long to get him back, kept him closely surveilled even when They’d accepted he was gone- surely some people had caved to that pressure eventually. When there was no sign They’d ever let up, ever let you go… he could understand eventually letting it overtake you.

“Did- did you leave, too?” Grian doesn’t remember the last time he saw Sausage’s face. He didn’t know him back then, of course. He probably would’ve connected the man with the person Pearl so often spoke about sooner. But he knows it’s been a long time, maybe even longer than the last time Grian had gone There. He doesn’t think Sausage had been There, that day. This might explain why.

“Eh, not quite?”

“What-“ Grian flails, both mentally and with his arms a bit. “What do you mean not quite?”

“Exactly what I said! I was never- it’s complicated, y’know?”

“Explain. Now.”

“Well, uh,” Sausage seems to flounder for the first time since this conversation started, which Grian is choosing to take as a victory. “Look, I wasn’t- they didn’t pick me. For this, or for anything, ever. Sometimes things just happen and you get yourself into a place you shouldn’t have and then… they can’t get rid of me, I can’t get rid of them, it is what it is.”

Grian stares at him for a long moment. Really stares at him, in the same way Sausage had looked him over earlier, in the same way that makes you feel like you’re under a microscope. Judging by the sudden nerves in his eyes, Grian can assume he feels it too. Grian remembers his face. That had been the first thing he’d noticed, when the Hermits had arrived. It had been a long time since they’d seen each other, but Grian knew his face. And now that Grian was studying him, really trying to remember… he’s not sure he quite likes what memories he’s dredging up.

“What are you?”

“Grian!” Sausage’s voice drips with mock offense as he puts his hand up to partially cover his mouth. “We only just met, do you think that’s polite?”

“Answer the question,” Grian sighs. How Pearl deals with this man on the regular, he doesn’t know.

“Well, if you insist.” Sausage sighs, somehow even more exaggerated than his previous movements. “It’s just… if you’ll believe it, it’s somehow even harder to answer the first question.”

“It shouldn’t be,” Grian says. “They’re two very different People, you know.”

“But they’re the same species, when it all comes down to it. Like, you might be very different than a chicken, but you’re both birds in the long run.”

Grian pauses, fanning his wings out a bit behind him as he considers. “I don’t think that metaphor’s quite landing the way you want it to.”

“No, me neither. Anyways, let me continue.

When they don’t pick you, things go a little differently! You don’t get sorted onto one side or the other since, well, you’re not really supposed to be there? So I’m… whatever I want to be, really. I think I’m feeling like more of a Listener, today, but we’ll see how the mood shifts.”

Grian flinches at the Name, on instinct. He doesn’t know how to feel about that, so he files it away to be dealt with at a later date. As for the rest of what Sausage said-

“What?”

“You heard me.” Sausage shrugs. He’s so nonchalant, Grian thinks he might strangle him, if not for the worry that that’s exactly what he wants out of this, somehow.

“Did I? Did I hear you?” Grian wants to pace, but that requires leaving the security of the corner, so he forces his feet to root themselves to the floor. “I thought- I thought you had to- if you wanted to change sides, I thought you had to-“

Grian closes one eye and takes his thumb to it, twisting the finger into his eyelid. The gesture seems to get the point across.

“Well, that’s the funny thing about this, actually.” From the way he’s been talking, Grian assumed Sausage thought this whole thing was funny. He restrains himself from saying that out loud if only so Sausage will finish his explanation.

Sausage reaches up to his left eye, pulls his eye lid back a bit, and unceremoniously pops out his prosthetic eye.

“All these processes and rituals actually have a lot of loopholes.”

Grian doesn’t know what face he’s making, but it’s enough to make Sausage giggle while he pops the eye back in. Because of course he does. Because this how his day is going, apparently. Walk through a weird portal in his basement and wake up in a world filled with his friends who don’t recognize him and also a guy he only ever saw There, who he was never supposed to see again. Sure. Of course he’s laughing about it. Grian thinks if he was a slightly different person, he’d be laughing too. It is, undeniably, absurd.

“Well, I think we’re done here then!” Grian would probably object if he weren’t so shocked about the loopholes. As it is, he just stands there a bit stupidly.

Sausage turns away to return to the party before turn around again for just a moment, reaching over, and ruffling Grian’s hair. That shocks him enough to shake him out of his stupor and swat Sausage’s hand away, though not before his hair is suitably messed up.

“What was that for?!”

Sausage smiles as he reaches up to rough up his own hair as well. “I assumed you didn’t want your friends asking questions about why you were dragging me into a dark corner, you know?” Sausage even goes far enough to pull his shirt a bit out of where it’s tucked into his pants, because of course he does. Grian tries not to cringe, but Sausage is right about this one thing. It is the easiest way to dodge any questions about where he’d gone off to- at the expense of the many knowing looks and teasing remarks he’ll be getting from the other Hermits instead.

“Have a good night, Grian!” Sausage calls over his shoulder as he turns to leave for real this time. “And remember, drinks are on me for all you guests tonight! You look like you need it.”

[joelmillerisapunk]

a sweet arrangement

sugardaddy!Joel Miller x f!reader

Masterlist ♡ Sugar Daddy Masterlist

Wordcount: 3,374

Summary: You sign up for a sugar daddy app. What's the worst that could happen?

Warnings: 18+, fingering, oral (both m&f receiving), light bondage, reader might have pullable hair (i dont rememeber if i took it out) quick mentions of slut, baby, sweet baby, sweetheart, darlin

Notes: tysm @saradika-graphics for the dividers. I was cheated on over the weekend, and I wrote this as a "I wish I could be here" instead of being sad." Just another rich!daddy fantasy

You've been feeling financially stretched lately, and after hearing about the concept of sugar daddies and sugar babies from a friend, you decided to give it a try. You sit on your bed and hesitantly create a profile on a popular app, describing yourself as a young, independent woman looking for a mutually beneficial arrangement. As you sit scrolling through, you can't help but feel a sigh of reluctance escape your lips. You never expected to find yourself on a sugar daddy dating app, but life has a way of surprising you sometimes.

After a few moments of looking around the site, a notification pops up. It's a message from a user named "Contractor_Guy."

Curiosity piques, and you open the message, hoping it's not some creepy come-on. To your surprise, it reads:

"Hey there. I don't usually do this sort of thing, but I figured it's worth a shot. My name's Joel. If you're interested in getting to know me, send me a message back."

Feeling intrigued, you reply:

"Hi Joel, I'm not sure what 'this sort of thing' is, but I'm curious now.”

The response comes quickly.

Contractor_Guy: "Haha, 'this sort of thing' is something I usually avoid. But hey, it's a new day, and who knows what it might bring?"

You: Hopefully luck! But seriously, what exactly are you avoiding?"

Contractor_Guy: "Haha, well that's a bit of a long story, darlin.”

You: "Oh, I don't mind a long story. I've got some time to kill. Besides, I find it intriguing that someone like you is on a sugar daddy app.”

Contractor_Guy: "Well, my last experience wasn't the best, and I'm just being cautious this time around.

But, here's the long version. I met a girl a few years back, and at first, things were great. We clicked, and the relationship was mutually beneficial. I was able to provide for her in a way she couldn't for herself, and in return, she was there for me when I needed emotional support. As time went on, she started to change. She became more demanding and less appreciative. It got to the point where she would expect extravagant gifts just for a simple text or phone call. I realized that she was only interested in my money and not in the relationship we'd built."

You: "I'm sorry to hear that. It's not easy to find someone who's genuine and appreciates what you have to offer."

Contractor_Guy: "Yeah, it was a tough lesson to learn, but I'm hoping to find someone different this time. Someone who appreciates the little things, too, not just the material things."

You: "I think that's a fair expectation. We all deserve to be appreciated for more than just our wallets. So, Joel, tell me more about yourself. What do you do for a living?"

Contractor_Guy: "I'm a contractor. I do mostly residential construction and home remodeling projects. What about you? What do you do when you're not scrolling through dating apps?”

You: "Lol, I'm usually at work. I'm a graphic designer, so I spend most of my days in front of a computer. It's not the most glamorous job, but I love what I do."

Contractor_Guy: "A graphic designer, huh? That's pretty impressive. I've always been more of a hands-on guy myself. But I must admit, there's something intriguing about a woman in the arts.”

You: "And who doesn't love a man who can wield a hammer and a chainsaw with equal ease?"

Contractor_Guy: "Oh, I'm definitely good with my hands darlin' ;). ”

You: "Maybe one day you'll show me just how good you are with your hands."

As the conversation continues to flow effortlessly, you both exchange numbers and agree to meet for a coffee date tomorrow. Before signing off, you send a playful message with a picture attached

You: "Well, I'm off to begin the countdown to our coffee date. I'll leave you with this little teaser. ;)"

Insert a picture of you posing confidently in a cute outfit, with a mischievous grin on your face.

Contractor_Guy: "Wow, that definitely has me counting down the hours! I can't wait to see you in person."

With that, you end the conversation eagerly anticipating your first in-person meeting with the intriguing contractor.

The two of you meet for the first time at a trendy coffee shop downtown, and you can immediately sense Joel's charm and confidence. You can tell he's done this a time or two. He offers to buy you a drink and pulls out the mattest black credit card you have ever seen to pay with. He guides you to a table in the back corner, and you both engage in light conversation, discussing your interests and goals. Joel is clearly intrigued by you, and you feel a spark of attraction towards him as well.

"So, tell me more about yourself," Joel says, his eyes locked on yours.

"Well, like I said on the app, I'm a freelance graphic designer," you reply, “It's not the most stable job, but I love what I do."

"I can imagine," Joel says, a hint of admiration in his voice. "I've always been a fan of the arts. But I'm sure you understand the struggles of making ends meet as a freelancer. That's why I'm interested in this arrangement."

"I do understand," you agree, your mind already contemplating the potential benefits of such an arrangement. "It would be nice to have some financial stability while still being able to pursue my passion."

"Exactly," Joel says, his tone firm but understanding. "And in return, I'd like you to be my companion when I need someone to spend time with. We can go on dates, attend social events, or just relax at home. I value your company, you're easy on the eyes and brain, and I believe we would make a great team."

"I think that sounds fair," you say, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. "I'm looking for something similar - someone who understands my situation and is willing to help me out."

Joel offers to take you to his place for a glass of wine, and as he leads you to his car, the conversation shifts to the details of the arrangement.

"Now that we've established the terms," Joel says, his voice low and serious, "I want to make something clear. I'm going to support you financially in any way you could ever dream of or want, but there's one condition."

"What's that?" You ask, your curiosity piqued.

"I want access to you whenever I please, however I please," Joel says, his eyes meeting yours. "I want to be able to use you for my pleasure whenever I want. Are you comfortable with that?"

Your heart races as you consider his request. You know what he's asking for, and you're not sure if you're ready for that level of intimacy. But at the same time, you can't deny the excitement coursing through your veins.

"I need some time to think about it. This is a big decision."

"Of course," Joel replies, his tone understanding. "Take all the time you need. But remember, this is the condition of our arrangement."

As Joel drives you to his mansion, you can't help but feel a mixture of excitement and trepidation. This is unlike any arrangement you've ever been a part of, and you're not sure what to expect. As you follow Joel upstairs, your heart races in anticipation. He leads you into a large, dimly-lit room, its walls adorned with black velvet and soft, glowing lights. A large bed dominates the center of the room, surrounded by various toys and restraints.

"I want to show you what I mean when I say I want access to you whenever I please.” Joel says, his voice thick with desire.

Joel leads you over to the bed, his eyes never leaving yours. He takes a seat on the edge, patting the space beside him. "Come here, sweetheart," he says, his voice soft and inviting.

You hesitate for a moment, unsure of what to do. But the curiosity and excitement pulsing through you win out, and you find yourself sitting down next to him. Joel's hand reaches out to gently brush a strand of hair from your face. "You're so beautiful, you know that?" he says, his gaze intense.

You feel your entire body get warm at the compliment, your heart racing faster than ever before. "Thank you," you murmur.

Joel's hand begins to trace a path down your arm, sending shivers coursing through your body. "I want to make you feel good, sweetheart," he says, his voice low and husky. "I want to give you pleasure like you've never experienced before."

Your mind is racing as Joel's hand continues to explore your body. You're not sure what to do, but you find yourself leaning into his touch, your body craving more.

"I want to show you something," Joel says, his eyes twinkling with mischief. He stands up and walks over to a large wooden chest at the foot of the bed. He opens it, revealing a variety of toys and restraints. Your heart races as you take in the sight. You've never seen anything like this before, and you're not sure what to make of it. Joel walks back over to you, a blindfold in his hand. "I want to show you how good it can feel to let go and trust someone," he says, his voice soft and soothing.

You hesitate for a moment but something about Joel's words and the look in his eyes makes you feel safe, and you find yourself nodding in agreement. He gently places the blindfold over your eyes, cocooning you in darkness. You can feel his hands on you, guiding you back onto the bed. You trust him, and you let yourself relax into the feeling of his touch.

Joel's hands continue to explore your body, tracing patterns and circles that send shivers of pleasure coursing through you. You can feel the bed shift as he leans over you, his breath hot against your ear. "I want to make you feel so good, sweetheart," he whispers, his voice barely above a whisper. Your breath hitches as his hands continue to wander.

Suddenly, you feel something soft and silky against your skin. It's a scarf, and Joel is using it to gently bind your wrists to the bedposts. You gasp at the feeling of being restrained, but the sensation is not unpleasant. Instead, it heightens your senses, making you more aware of every touch and caress.

Joel continues to explore your body, his hands moving lower and lower until they reach the waistband of your pants. He pauses for a moment, waiting for your consent. "May I?" he asks, his voice low and husky. You nod, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps. He slowly begins to slide your pants down your legs, his hands lingering on your skin as he goes. You can feel the heat of his touch, and you find yourself arching up towards him, wanting more. Finally, your pants are off, and Joel's hands are free to explore your body in earnest. He caresses your thighs, your hips, your stomach, each touch sending waves of pleasure coursing through you.

You can feel yourself growing wet, your body responding to Joel's touch in ways you've never experienced before. You moan softly, your hips bucking up towards him. Joel takes the hint, his fingers finding their way to your wetness. He begins to explore you, his touch gentle but firm. You gasp at the sensation, your body quivering with pleasure. His fingers move in slow, deliberate circles that send shivers of pleasure coursing through your body. You find yourself moaning louder and louder, your hips bucking up towards him as you chase the feeling of release. Finally, you can't take it any longer. You cry out as the orgasm washes over you, your body trembling with pleasure. Joel continues to touch you, his fingers gentle as they bring you down from the peak of pleasure.

Slowly, your breathing returns to normal, and you become aware of your surroundings once again. The blindfold is still over your eyes, and you're still bound to the bed. But you feel safe and content, your body still humming with pleasure. He unties the blindfold, and you blink your eyes against the sudden brightness of the room. He's standing above you, a wicked smile on his face. "Did you like that, sweetheart?" he asks, his voice low and seductive.

"Yes sir," you get out with a hoarse voice.

Joel's gaze travels down your body, taking in the sight of you spread out on his bed, still bound to the bedposts. "Mmm, such a good girl already," he says, his voice full of satisfaction. "I have so much more I want to show you."

He walks over to the wooden chest at the foot of the bed and rummages through it, pulling out a variety of toys and restraints. Joel turns back to you, a pair of handcuffs in his hand. "May I?" he asks, his voice low and seductive.

“You may."

Your heart racies with excitement as Joel cuffs your hands above your head, replacing the soft, luxurious ribbon, and securing you back to the bedpost. You test the restraints, finding that they hold you firmly in place. Your heart is racing with excitement, your body tingling with anticipation. He walks back over to the chest and pulls out a vibrator. He turns it on, the buzzing noise filling the room. You watch as he approaches you. He traces the vibrator over your body, teasing you with each touch. You arch up towards him, wanting more. But Joel is in control, and he takes his time, drawing out the anticipation until you're nearly begging for release."Are you ready for more, darlin’?"

“Yes please,” your breath coming in short gasps.

"Good girl." He traces the vibrator lower, teasing your clit with each pass. You moan, your hips bucking up towards him. But he pulls the vibrator away just as you're about to come.

You whimper in frustration, but Joel just smiles. "Patience, baby, patience," he says.

He continues to tease you, bringing you to the brink of orgasm again and again, but never letting you fully come. You're writhing on the bed, your body begging for release when Joel leans down and whispers in your ear. "Do you trust me, sweetheart?"

You nod, your heart racing. "Yes, I do," you whisper.

Joel smiles, his eyes twinkling with mischief. He leans down and captures your lips in a passionate kiss. You moan, your hips bucking up towards him. You're ready for whatever comes next.

Joel breaks the kiss, his eyes locked on yours. "I'm going to take you to the edge, sweetheart," he says, his voice low and seductive. "And then I'm going to bring you back again. And again. And again. Until you can't take it anymore."

Joel's hand moves back to the vibrator, tracing it over your clit once again. This time, he doesn't stop. He continues to tease and pleasure you. Suddenly, Joel pulls the vibrator away once again. You whimper in frustration, but before you can protest, he's replaced it with his mouth. His tongue expertly teases your clit. His hands roam your body as he brings you to the brink of orgasm once again. This time, however, he doesn't stop. He continues to lick and suck at your clit, his fingers entering you and curling against your G-spot as he pushes you over the edge.

You cry out, your body shaking with pleasure as you come hard against his mouth. Joel doesn't stop, his tongue continuing to torture you as you ride out the waves of your orgasm. As you come down from your orgasm, you gasp for breath, your body still trembling with pleasure. Joel's gaze is intense as he watches you, his face flushed with arousal.

"That was so, fucking good," you manage to gasp out, your voice still hoarse from your orgasm.

Joel smiles, his eyes never leaving yours. "I'm glad you thought so," he says, his voice low and seductive. "But I think it's your turn now."

"My turn?" you ask, your eyes wide with curiosity.

"Yes," Joel says, his smile widening. "It's time for you to return the favor.”

You feel a pang of nerves flood your body. “But I'm still all tied up.”

Joel smirks, leaning in. He grabs the hollows of your cheeks, forcing you to look at him, “ I never said you needed to be untied, did I.”

You swallow hard, your mind racing with the implications of his words. Joel releases your cheeks, his gaze traveling down your body. "You're going to make me very happy tonight, sweetheart. Just remember - I want access to you whenever I please, however I please. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir," you reply, your voice full of submission.

Joel's smile widens, and he reaches down to unfasten his pants. He steps out of them and his boxers, revealing a hard, thick, ready erection. He climbs onto the bed, his legs straddling your chest. "Now, I want you to take me into your mouth," he says, his voice firm and authoritative.

Your heart is racing as you obey. He brings it up to your lips, and your tongue darts out to lick the tip. You can taste the hint of salt and musk, and you find yourself growing aroused again. You open your mouth wide to accommodate his size. He tastes so good, so intense, and you can't get enough. You begin to move your head, your mouth sliding up and down his shaft. Joel gasps, his hips bucking up towards you.

Suddenly he grabs your hair and holds his cock to the hilt, filing up your entire throat, blocking your airway. You try to gasp for breath as Joel holds you down on his large throbbing cock but it's no use. Your head is swimming with pleasure and arousal, and you're not sure if you can take anymore. Just then Joel releases his grip on your hair, allowing you to breathe again. You take the opportunity to pull away, gasping for air. Joel smirks down at you. "Such a good little slut for daddy already," he says, his voice full of praise. "Daddy wants to see more. Show me how much you want me."

You nod, your heart racing with anticipation as Joel pulls away and undoes your restraints. When he's back on the bed, you take him back into your mouth, your hands roaming his beautiful, full thighs. You begin to suck and lick at his cock, your tongue exploring every inch of him. You can hear Joel growing more aroused, his breaths coming in short gasps.

You feel a hand on the back of your head, guiding you. Joel is thrusting into your mouth, his cock sliding in and out. You moan around him, your hands reaching up to cup his balls. He's tensing, his hips bucking harder with each thrust. Suddenly, he lets out the most primal groan you've ever heard, his cock swells in your mouth. He thrusts into you one more time before coming. You can feel his warm come filling your mouth, and you swallow it down eagerly. Joel groans, his hips stilling as he rides out his orgasm.

You pull away, gasping for air and Joel collapses onto his back, his chest rising and falling rapidly. You can see the satisfaction on his face, and you feel proud of yourself. You've never done anything like that before, and you're not sure how you feel about it. But there's a part of you that's excited, that wants to do it again.

You're both panting heavily, your mind still reeling from the intense experience you've just shared. Joel's gaze is locked on yours, his eyes full of admiration and desire. "You were amazing, sweetheart," he says, his voice a low rumble. "I can't wait to show you more." A wave of excitement washes over you as Joel reaches out and gently strokes your cheek, his fingers lingering against your skin. "I want to make this arrangement work, darlin," he says, his voice soft and earnest. "But I need to know that you're in this for the right reasons."

Your heart races as you consider his words. You know what he's asking, and you're not sure if you're ready for the level of intimacy and commitment this arrangement requires. But at the same time, you can't deny the excitement coursing through your veins, the thrill of being desired and pursued by someone like Joel. You nod, your heart racing with both excitement and trepidation. "I think I'm ready to accept your condition," you say, your voice low and hesitant. "But I need to know that you're in this for the right reasons, too."

Joel's eyes meet yours, his gaze intense and serious. "I promise you, I want nothing more than to care for and support you, both financially and emotionally," he says firmly. "And I expect the same companionship in return."

You take a deep breath, your mind racing with the implications of your decision. But there's a part of you that's eager to explore this new world, to find out what it means to be truly desired and cared for by someone like Joel.

"Okay," you finally say, your voice full of resolution. "I want to make this arrangement work too."

Joel's face breaks into a smile, his eyes filled with relief and joy. He pulls you into a warm embrace, his arms wrapping around you tightly. "Thank you, sweetheart," he whispers, his voice full of gratitude. "I'm going to make sure you never regret this decision."

---

Thanks for reading ❤️ let me know if you'd like more from these two

[ellethespaceunicorn]

Nothing More Than An Animal

Title: Nothing More Than An Animal

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Henry!Wolverine (Cavillrine) x Female!Reader

Word Count: 2.6K

Summary: After entering a dangerous biker bar alone, you’re almost assaulted. You are saved by a mutant with metal claws who might be more animal than man.

Warnings: alcohol use, swearing, unwanted attention, bar fight, Wolvie being Wolvie, unprotected p-in-v sex, creampie, mention of bodily fluids, claw kink

Beta: @peyton-warren

A/N: The title is taken from this quote from Savage Wolverine #13: “Most people think I'm nothing more than an animal!” Thank you to my amazing beta, Peyton, for giving me this idea in the first place.

Dividers by me

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

My Masterlist

You couldn’t help yourself. You stand across the street from the biker bar, a flickering streetlamp above you casting an off-white haze. The only thing keeping you from entering the establishment is your sense of self-preservation. This place, Torque Tavern, screams danger. But that only draws you in further.

You’re dressed in your usual style: your favorite Joan Jett shirt with the sleeves cut off, a denim jacket, a pair of figure-hugging black jeans, and a pair of Doc Martens boots. While normally you walk around with a sense of power, tonight was different.

A chill in the air makes you wrap your arms around yourself. You step off the curb into a dirty puddle, crossing the street after looking both ways. With your hand on the bar door, you pull it open and step inside.

The smell of stale beer and tobacco smoke hits your nostrils as the door closes behind you. A dozen heads turn to you, and your heart pounds. You look across the dimly lit room and notice one person who hasn’t paid you any attention, sitting on a stool at the L-shaped bar. You walk up and sit on a stool, a couple of seats away from the large man.

While you wait for the bartender to attend to you, you peek at the behemoth that sits near you. Wild, dark hair that comes to a point on each side, bushy sideburns, and a non-connecting beard outline his face. A white tank top stretches across his wide, thick frame. Bulbous, sweaty biceps glisten in the glow of the lights behind the bar. Hairy, veiny forearms lead down to strong hands: one grips around a lowball of amber liquid so tight that his knuckles are white, and the other balances a fat cigar between two fingers.

“Take a picture, bub, it’ll last longer,” the stranger says, letting out a plume of smoke from his chapped lips before turning his tidepool blue eyes on you.

After a few seconds that feel like minutes, you’re finally able to turn around and look away, mumbling an apology. You can still feel his eyes on you for a bit before he turns back to his drink and his solitude.

Your eyes shoot up once the bartender knocks on the bartop in front of you. “What’ll you have?”

“Uh, yeah. Moosehead and a shot of J.P. Wiser’s,” you reply, unsurprised when the bartender raises a brow at you. He then shrugs, cracks open a bottle of lager, and sets it in front of you. Grabbing a shot glass, he pours you a bit of the blended whiskey.

As soon as the light golden liquor is pushed toward you, you lift it and inhale the vanilla aroma. Tossing it back, the taste of licorice and cinnamon cascades over your tongue and down your throat. You exhale the burn and turn your attention to your lager.

You notice the murmurs behind you. A chair is pushed away from a table, and heavy boots are walking up behind you. A strong hand lands on your shoulder, and you freeze. “Hey, doll. Can I buy you a drink?”

You hold up your beer and decline, “I’m fine, honey.”

“Aw, come on. Just one drink. Promise I don’t bite, ‘less you want me to,” the source of the voice laughs, coming around to lean on the bar between you and the cigar-smoking stranger, his bald head glistening in the low light as he strokes his long, scraggly beard. His beer belly is barely contained in a Limp Bizkit shirt. This man is a walking red flag, and you roll your eyes and shake your head.

“Look, pal. Let me enjoy the drink I have, ok? This is my one fucking night off this week, and I’m not in the mood to let you ruin it with any of your shitty pick-up lines or the promise of hanging out with you and the rest of the rejects from Sons of Anarchy, got it?” You surprised yourself by bellowing these words to a stranger, one who could probably benchpress you with ease.

You flinch as his expression turns dark and he raises a hand. “You stuck-up little bitch, I ought to—”

The cigar-smoking stranger interrupts, seizing him by the throat and lifting him effortlessly off the ground as if he were a mere feather. While holding him aloft with one hand, the other hand balls into a fist while sharp blades appear from his knuckles.

He’s a mutant! You’d never seen anyone use their abilities up close, but now a man with incredible strength and metal claws is gallantly defending your honor.

“I think the lady has everything she needs, so why don’t you and your little friends scurry along before I get really angry and carve you up in front of everyone, eh?”

The sound of a pump-action shotgun being cocked has every head whipping to the bartender. “Get out of my bar, freak!”

The mutant simply turns and deposits the asshole on the ground in a crumpled mess. Blowing another puff of smoke into the ceiling, he throws back the rest of his drink before grabbing a bottle of whiskey from behind the bar and walking out. Halfway to the door, he turns to you and asks, “You coming or what, bub?”

You couldn’t scramble off your stool quick enough after he challenged you to follow him. Stepping over the man left on the floor, you scurry after your mutant savior. Once back in the night air, you look over as he stuffs the bottle into the storage of his Harley-Davidson. As he swings his leg over the bike and settles into the seat, you can't help but notice the bike sagging under his weight, as if he weighs a ton.

He turns back to his storage, taking out a helmet and holding it out to you. You’ve seen enough movies to know that riding with a stranger is a dumb idea. However, if that mysterious stranger happens to be attractive and cruising on a Harley, who could resist the allure of a thrilling adventure?

Taking the helmet, you pull it down over your head and lift a leg to get onto the bike behind him. As he turns the key, you clench your thighs at the vibration and wrap your arms around his waist.

“You don’t have to hold me so tight,” he informs.

“Oh, this isn’t tight," you remark, suddenly realizing that you don't know what to call this man. You offer your name, and he repeats it before giving his own.

“The name’s Logan.” He drops his cigar butt on the asphalt and stubs it out with his boot before putting up the kickstand and backing out of the parking spot. He revs the engine, and you are off on your way to wherever Logan wants to take you.

The drive is smooth, the city whizzing past you as Logan speeds down the highway. You end up at a garage that houses a few more Harleys in various states of repair. Logan puts the kickstand down and lets you get off the bike first. He watches as you take off the helmet and look around at where he’s taken you.

Exiting the bike, he takes the helmet when you hold it out to him. You don’t miss the way his fingers lingered on yours for a beat. He takes the bottle out of his bike pack and takes a hefty swig, then hands it to you.

You read the label, ‘Forty Creek Confederation Oak’, and put the bottle to your lips. Tipping it, you are delighted to taste the honey flavor. Handing him the bottle, you hold the liquor in your mouth until it starts to burn, and then you swallow and exhale the nutty finish.

He appears to be quite taken aback that you managed to drink without gagging, and his intrigue deepens as you begin to move closer into his personal space. The warmth in your chest from the alcohol has you feeling full and content. The heat coming off of his body as you stand close enough to breathe in his air has you feeling something completely overwhelming: pheromone-induced arousal.

Your libido is making itself known as you watch him watch you. Unable to stop your hands, they find themselves smoothing up his tank-covered torso until you tug at the collar. He gets the hint and sets the bottle down before removing his shirt.

You encounter a soft, furry chest that invites you to sink your fingers into its warmth. Tightening your digits in the hair on his pretty pecs, you revel in the growl he makes. He then levels the playing field, grabbing you by the nape of the neck with one large paw and bringing your face to his.

As you part your lips, a soft whimper slips out, unable to be contained, while he teasingly brushes his tongue against your lower lip. Growling again, he dips further to slot your mouth with his. He devours the moans that come out of you as he grabs a handful of your ass, chuckling into the kiss as you let him take the lead. His tongue licks into your mouth, and you feel drunk on his whiskey-laden kiss.

Breaking the kiss, he pushes down on your shoulders until you are kneeling at his feet. You start to unfasten his tight-fitting jeans, but he swats your hands away.

“Not yet, bub,” he warns. “I wanna try something.”

With that, he has you pass him the bottle. He takes a drink and then holds your cheek against his denim-covered cock. You can sense that he’s packing quite a surprise down there, and you’re eagerly anticipating the moment it’s unleashed.

“Eyes on me,” he commands.

You watch as he takes the bottle and pours about a shot’s worth of liquor over his chest. Watching as the liquid washes over him, you are more than eager to taste it directly from his skin. After you’ve cleaned his chest of all traces, he takes another drink. This time, he holds your face by the jaw and leans down, spitting the whiskey directly into your mouth.

You gulp it down eagerly, on the verge of pleading for another sip, when he scoops you up from the ground and twirls you around, positioning you over the bike you arrived on. He yanks down your jeans, your panties going with them. He lands a slap on each cheek before you hear him unzip his pants and feel his heavy dick teasing your clit.

He kicks your legs open further, pulls your denim jacket off, and lines himself up with your soaked entrance. Sliding in, he hisses at the heat of your tightness. You whine at his girth, stretching you more than any other cock you’ve ever taken. Once he bottoms out, the tip kisses your cervix, and his hairy ball sac rests against your puffy pussy. He pauses to let you get used to his size, but as he continues to take his time, it seems he is just tormenting you.

“Logan, please. Need you to move,” you plead, wiggling your hips to get any kind of friction.

You don’t see the toothy grin that covers his face, but you know by the way he tightens his grip on your hips that he is about to fuck you ten ways from Sunday.

Gradually withdrawing his hips, he eases out until only the tip of his shaft stays nestled within you, and then he thrusts back in with force. Doing it again, and then again, he pauses after each thrust to tease you. But on the third plunge, he doesn’t stop; he just keeps driving into you.

The rhythmic sounds of your sweat-soaked skin colliding form a captivating tune, harmonizing with the slick, squelching rhythm of his thrusts deep inside you. Coupled with Logan's deep, primal growls and your breathy moans, it creates an intoxicating symphony of desire.

You sense one of his hands sliding away from your hip, pushing your top up your back, and then a sharp SNIKT! pierces the air. You almost turn to inquire where the sound came from, but you soon feel something razor-sharp and hot to the touch sliding down your back. Once you realize that he’s touching you with his claws, you’re overcome with arousal, and your walls flutter around him. He fucks you through your orgasm and retracts his claws.

He slows his hips, pulling out and moving you both over to a nearby armchair. Sitting down first, he crooks a finger at you, and you remove your jeans and boots before straddling his hips. As you lower yourself onto him, you feel him fill you once more, the sensation overwhelming as you settle in.

You close your eyes and begin to ride him slower than before. Before you know it, you feel hot steel, or what you assume to be steel, at your neck and open your eyes to see his fist a few inches from your face. The claws, held within a millimeter of your jugular, glide across your skin.

“Hey, bub? You gonna keep pussyfooting around, or are you gonna ride this cock like the good little slut I know you are?” He asks, his pupils dilated until there is barely any blue left.

Your mouth opens and closes, but there is no sound coming out besides whimpers of fear that he might push those claws through your neck. Honestly, it added an extra little something to the experience, feeling that he might cut you at any moment.

The claws disappear back into the skin between his knuckles, and instead, he wraps a hand around your neck, guiding you to ride his length exactly as he wants. Your hands hold his thick wrist as you impale yourself over and over again.

“That’s it. Ride my cock just like that,” he praises, sticking two fingers in your mouth that you gluttonously suck. He locks his gaze on yours while you reach another peak of pleasure, your inner walls tightening around him as you release a wave of warmth that cascades down his length and between his legs.

When you threaten to slow down, he fucks into you, chasing his release. At this point, you are drooling over his fingers and looking like the fucked-out little doll that you are. You can tell that he is close as his hips stutter and his brows furrow as he removes his fingers from your mouth.

“Come inside me, Logan. Want it, need it so bad,” you beg, moving your hips as he drives into you with an intensity that leaves you breathless. He lets out a throaty growl and buries himself to the hilt inside of you. Feeling him twitch inside you, rope after rope of his cum painting your cervix, you reach back and play with his balls.

It’s minutes before his cock softens enough to slip out of you, and you rest your head on his chest as his jizz drips from your thoroughly used hole. To your astonishment, his hand rises to gently stroke your back while you find yourself gripping his chest hair.

Little did you know, this was only round one with the big lug. He’ll let you get some shut-eye for now, but later? He’d like to fuck you on every available surface in his garage. And what he wants, he always gets.

A/N: I intentionally used a line from the X-Men (2000), but then failed at “Chekov’s Gun” sort of. But this story only has two acts. So, fuck Chekov. I hope you all enjoyed my little fuckfest here, and please do let me know what you thought!! Writers are fed by comments!

**Tag List**

@littlefreya @mrs-solo-walker @viking-raider

Let me know if you want to be added (or removed). 😁

[tojiluv]

UNVEILING LOVE — uchiha clan ft. sasuke, itachi, shisui, madara, obito [imagine]

context: how would the uchiha men realize their feelings and confess to you? based on “why do you make me feel like this?"

warnings: au. fluff. gn! reader. slight ooc?

notes: this has been sitting in the dust for a while, thank sensen for this idea and motivating me. not my art above.

tags: only for @seneon <3

SASUKE UCHIHA — ❝ THE LAST UCHIHA ❞ 

Sasuke wouldn’t initially understand his feelings for you, unsure of how they differed from those of a friend to a potential lover. Knowing Sasuke, he wouldn’t confess to you due to his past mistakes and doubts about whether he could give you what you want. But that would soon change once he returned to the village and saw you hanging out with a random guy who kept making you laugh at a vendor shop. When you noticed your teammate returning, you waved at him, not realizing the glare he was directing at your friend. Before you could get a word out, Sasuke gently grabbed your arm and pulled you away, making you follow him out of the store without a chance to say goodbye. He kept walking silently until you were alone in a random alleyway, hidden from prying eyes.

“Hey! Sasuke, what was that about? Is everything okay?”

"Who was that?" he asked, his eyes focused on your delicate features that he had grown to admire. You tilted your head, confused by his question.

"Huh? Oh, you mean Lino! He’s just a friend I've been visiting," you said, not noticing how your comment made him feel a bit jealous. Sasuke kept quiet, pondering whether he should say anything or continue to avoid his feelings for you. He wondered if you truly liked him the way he liked you, fearing the possibility of rejection.

Your eyes grew concerned as you watched the stoic male avoid eye contact. “I hope you know that I… I missed you,” you confessed, shyly looking to the side as his head shot up, eyes slightly widened. “I’m just glad you’re back now, even if it's only for a little bit. I’m happy you’re okay.”

Your heart suddenly raced faster than you could maintain as the stoic male grabbed your hand, holding it lightly before gripping it firmly with warmth. You glanced up, your face warming from the contact as you witnessed a small smile appear on his face. You had always had a crush on Sasuke since you became teammates on Team 7 with Naruto and Sakura, but you always hid your feelings deep down. You doubted that you would ever have a chance with Sasuke Uchiha.

"I’m glad you missed me… 'cause I’ve missed you too," he confessed, pulling you closer as you listened intently. "I… I didn’t understand this feeling, wondering what made me feel this way until I realized it was you."

You held your breath, nothing around you capturing your attention except the male in front of you.

“I thought about you the whole time I was away,” Sasuke sighed, gathering the courage to speak his feelings. “I realized that I’ve liked you for quite some time.”

Surprise consumed you, eyes wide open at the confession. You never expected this, especially from Sasuke, who usually wasn’t the type to express his feelings. But here you were, discovering that Sasuke Uchiha liked you, apparently for a long time now. Your heart swelled as a large smile spread across your lips, gripping his hand more tightly than before. Sasuke felt all the tension loosen from his shoulders as his admiration for you grew stronger from your words.

“I've always liked you, Sasuke, for years. And I will continue to do so as long as I’m by your side.”

ITACHI UCHIHA — ❝ ITACHI OF THE SHARINGAN ❞ 

Itachi found himself in a rare moment of contemplation, leaning against the sturdy trunk of a cherry blossom tree. He allowed his thoughts to drift to a singular figure that seemed to occupy every corner of his mind: you. Closing his eyes, Itachi attempted to unravel the enigma of his feelings. When had he fallen in love with you? The question lingered in his mind like a persistent shadow.

He recalled the first time he met you, your bright eyes reflecting curiosity and kindness, a stark contrast to the darkness that often enveloped his world. At that moment, something stirred within him, a whisper of possibility that he dared not acknowledge, frustrating his inner being with the thoughts. As time passed, your presence became a constant in his life, weaving its way into the fabric of his existence. Like music to his ears, your laughter echoed in his memories, warming even the coldest corners of his heart. Your unwavering support during challenging missions, and your gentle encouragement in moments of doubt—each interaction etched itself into his soul, leaving an indelible mark.

It was difficult for him to accept a different form of love to enter his complicated heart. 

Now, under the cascading petals of the cherry blossom tree, the realization hit him with a gale force. His chest tightened, and he opened his eyes, staring at the soft pink petals fluttering around him, their beauty a stark reminder of his vulnerability. He took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his emotions settle within him. 

"Why do you make me feel like this?" he muttered to himself, the question laden with confusion and a touch of exasperation.

Just then, he heard footsteps approaching. He turned his head and saw you walking towards him, your presence immediately calming the storm of his thoughts. You smiled, and he felt the familiar warmth spread through him, a warmth that he now recognized as love.

"Itachi, are you alright?" you asked, concerned.

He hesitated, his usual stoic demeanor cracking under the intensity of his feelings. For a moment, he considered staying silent, keeping his turmoil hidden. But then he realized he couldn't continue like this, trapped in his own emotions.

"It’s you," he said quietly, his voice steady despite the turmoil inside. "You make me feel like this." Your eyes widened slightly, surprise and curiosity flickering across your face. "What do you mean?"

He took a step closer, his gaze never leaving yours. "Every time I see you and hear your voice, I feel something I can't ignore anymore. It’s confusing and frustrating, but I can't deny it any longer. I... I love you."

The words hung in the air between you, a confession that felt both liberating and terrifying. Itachi's heart raced as he awaited your response, hoping that the feelings he'd kept hidden for so long would not be met with rejection.

You blinked, absorbing his words, and then a soft smile spread across your face. "Itachi," you said gently, taking his rough hands into your own. "I love you too."

Relief washed over him, and for the first time in a long while, he allowed himself to truly smile. The complicated emotions that had plagued him began to untangle, replaced by a sense of peace he hadn't known was possible. At that moment, under the cherry blossom tree, Itachi Uchiha found solace in your embrace, knowing that he no longer had to face his feelings alone. With gentle tenderness, he leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on your forehead, a silent affirmation of his love and gratitude.

SHISUI UCHIHA — ❝ THE BODY FLICKER ❞ 

The sound of clashing kunai echoed through the training grounds as you and Shisui sparred under the burning sun. Shisui's movements, usually swift and precise, seemed distracted today, his mind elsewhere. You noticed his unfocused gaze and slower reactions, wondering what could be bothering him. As you circled each other, you saw another opening and took it, landing a solid hit to his head. Shisui stumbled back, rubbing the spot where you had struck him, his expression a mix of pain and embarrassment.

"What’s wrong with you today?" you demanded, frustration clear in your tone. "You're not paying attention and using your full potential."

Shisui sighed, lowering his eyes to the ground. "I'm sorry," he muttered, avoiding your gaze. "I know I should be doing better."

Your annoyance faded slightly as you watched him. Shisui Uchiha, one of the most talented shinobi in the village, was never one to slack off during training. Something had to be seriously bothering him.

"Well, what's going on?" you asked, softer this time. "You can tell me."

Shisui hesitated, his mind racing. He had been overthinking his feelings for you for days, his thoughts a tangled mess of confusion and longing. He hadn't meant to let it affect his training, but being so close to you, yet unable to express how he felt, was driving him to lose focus.

"I... it's just..." he began, struggling to find the right words. "I've been thinking a lot lately, about... things." You raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue. "Things? What things?"

He took a deep breath, his heart pounding in his chest. "About you," he blurted out before he could stop himself. "I couldn’t understand why I was feeling this way until I realized that I… I like you!"

The silence that followed was deafening. Shisui's eyes widened as he realized what he had just confessed, his face turning crimson. He hadn't meant to say it, especially not like this.

Your eyes widened in surprise, taken aback by his sudden admission. "Shisui..."

"I-I'm sorry," he stammered, backing away slightly. "I didn't mean to... I mean, I did, but not like this. I just..."

You stepped forward, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Shisui, it's okay," you said gently, a smile tugging at your lips. "You don't have to apologize.”

Shisui stood up from the ground, wiping off any dirt as he avoided eye contact, his face still flushed with embarrassment. "I thought you knew," he murmured. "I don’t even use my Sharingan and barely put any power into my movements during our training sessions..."

"I just thought you were going easy on me," you admitted, rubbing the back of your head and feeling a bit foolish for not realizing the obvious signs. However, a warmth spread through you at his vulnerability, and a glowing grin appeared on your lips. "Well, for the record, I like you too."

The relief that washed over Shisui's face was palpable, his tense shoulders relaxing as he let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "Well, of course, you fell for my charms. How could you not?" he teased, a playful smile breaking through his worried expression.

You chuckled and shoved a hand against his shoulder. "Don’t get too ahead of yourself now. How about we continue sparring? But this time, I expect you to give it your all if you want to win over my heart fully."

Shisui grinned, feeling the weight of his unspoken feelings finally lifts. "Oh, you've got yourself a bet."

As you resumed your positions, you both couldn't shake the feeling that the sparring match had taken on a new, deeper significance. At that moment, under the fading light of the day, you both understood that this was the start of something special. The connection between you had deepened, turning a simple sparring match into a cherished memory. After the match (Shisui won), you sat together, hands linked, feeling a sense of peace and happiness, knowing that you had found something truly wonderful with each other.

MADARA UCHIHA — ❝ GHOST OF THE UCHIHA ❞

Madara Uchiha, a man known for his iron will and unyielding resolve, found himself ensnared in an internal struggle that defied his every attempt at control. His feelings for you had become a thorn in his side, a relentless source of annoyance that he couldn’t simply brush away. In an attempt to cope, he had begun to distance himself from you, hoping that the space would extinguish the unwanted emotions. However, it only served to exacerbate the situation. You noticed his sudden coldness, the way he avoided your presence and cut conversations short. Hurt and frustrated, you decided to confront him. You found him in a secluded courtyard, his back turned as he stared out at the night sky, lost in thought.

“Madara,” you called out, your voice firm. “We need to talk.”

He didn’t turn, his silence only fueling your frustration. You walked closer, refusing to be ignored. “Why have you been avoiding me? What did I do?”

“It’s nothing,” he replied tersely, still not facing you.

“It’s not nothing!” you snapped, moving to stand in front of him, forcing him to meet your eyes. “Tell me what’s going on!”

His jaw tightened, and you could see the storm brewing behind his dark eyes. “Just leave it alone,” he said, standing up from his spot to walk away.

“No,” you insisted, stepping into his path. “I won’t leave it alone. You owe me an explanation.”

The tension between you reached a breaking point. Madara’s frustration finally erupted. With a swift motion, he punched the wall beside him, cracks radiating out from the impact of his chakra. Despite the sudden action, you remained unflinching, eyes locked on his as you had anticipated this eruption from the stubborn Uchiha.

“Why do you have this effect on me?” he shouted, his voice a mixture of anger and desperation. “Why can’t I stop thinking about you? It’s infuriating!”

Your breath caught in your throat, but you pressed on, your voice softer now. “Why didn’t you just tell me?” you asked. “Why push me away?”

“Because I’m in love with you!” he roared, the confession tearing out of him. “And I hate it! I hate that I can’t control it, that you make me feel this way!”

The raw intensity of his words hung in the air, his chest heaving from the outburst. You stepped closer, reaching out to gently touch his arm. “Madara,” you said softly, “you don’t have to fight it. I love you too.”

His eyes softened, the storm within them calming. Vulnerability seeped through his usually stoic facade as he looked at you. “You... do?”

“Yes,” you replied, your voice steady and sincere. “From the moment we met after the war, I knew I did.”

For a moment, silence enveloped them, allowing his words to sink in. Then, slowly, he pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly as if afraid you might slip away. “I’ve been a fool,” he murmured against your hair, the tension in his body easing. “I should have told you sooner.” 

You wrapped your arms around him, feeling the solidity of his presence. “We’ll figure it out together,” you whispered.

In that embrace, the world seemed to shrink until it was just the two of you. Madara finally allowed himself to let go of the control he had clung to so fiercely. The future might still be uncertain, but with you by his side, he knew he could face whatever came next.

OBITO UCHIHA — ❝ THE MASKED MAN ❞

In the hidden depths of Obito Uchiha's heart, emotions swirled like a tumultuous storm, leaving him lost in a haze of confusion. Amidst the chaos of his thoughts, he struggled to decipher the true nature of his feelings for you. He watched you from afar, his heart yearning for something more, yet fearing the consequences of exposing his true emotions to the light. Each friendly gesture and shared moment deepened his uncertainty, leaving him adrift in a sea of conflicting emotions.

Day after day, he found himself drawn to you like a moth to a flame, captivated by your smile, your laughter, your mere presence. Yet, beneath the surface of his admiration, a seed of jealousy lay dormant, gnawing at his soul whenever he saw you with another man. He attempted to suppress the pang of envy that pierced his heart whenever he witnessed you in someone else's company, but the feeling only intensified with each passing day. The mere thought of someone else holding your attention, of another person eliciting the smiles he longed to see from you, was unbearable to him.

Then, one fateful day, his worst fears materialized as he stumbled upon you in the village, your laughter intertwined with that of another man's. A surge of jealousy engulfed him, threatening to consume him whole as he watched the scene unfold before his eyes, witnessing a random leaf ninja bid farewell to you.

Unable to contain his emotions any longer, the words spilled from Obito's lips in a rush of desperation and longing. "I can't stand seeing you with him!" he blurted out, his voice laced with bitterness.

You turned to face him, surprise flickering in your eyes at his outburst and undetected presence. "Obito, what are you talking about?"

Obito took a shaky breath, his heart pounding, struggling to find the right words. "I–I'm sorry. It's just... I've been confused about my feelings for you and the way you affect my entire being. And then seeing you with him... it hurts."

A heavy silence settled between them, the weight of his confession hanging in the air like a shroud. And then, to his surprise, you reached out and took his hand in yours, your touch sending a jolt of warmth through his veins. "Obito… Say it, please."

He sighed, feeling the weight of his emotions pressing down upon him like a suffocating blanket, his face burning from your intense look. “I know we're friends, and I value that more than anything, but I believe there's something more between us. And it's driving me insane because I… I cherish you deeply!”

Awaiting the sudden rejection, to his shock, you placed his hand against your cheek, your face nuzzling against his warmed palms as you graced him with the same sweet smile he had grown to love dearly.

“I've always loved you, Obito, ever since we became classmates in the academy. I knew that the boy who declared himself to be the next Hokage with those big goggles on his face was truly someone I would always admire.”

His heart skipped a beat at your words, a rush of euphoria flooding his senses as he realized how long you had waited for him. He couldn't believe his luck and fathom that the person he had been pining for felt the same way about him for so long. And as you leaned in closer, your lips brushing against his in a tender kiss, Obito felt as though he were floating on air. In that moment, amidst the chaos of his emotions, he found a sense of clarity and peace, knowing that he had finally found the person who would stand by his side through thick and thin.

© 𝐭𝐨𝐣𝐢𝐥𝐮𝐯 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒

[soobnny]

voicemails nishimura riki leaves you while he’s on tour — fluff, established relationship, tiny bit of angst

heeseung | jay | jake | sunghoon | sunoo | jungwon | NI-KI

one. it’s only been a day. i miss you already.

two. the hyungs told me i’ve been smiling a lot more than usual. hm, i wonder what could be the reason why? they told me it’s because of you. what do you think? (laughing) i think they’re right. you just make me smile without doing anything. even if it’s just the thought of you.

three. goodnight—wait fuck what time is it for you right now? i keep forgetting we’re on different timezones. this is torture.

four. i listen to our shared playlist all the time. this way, it feels like you’re closer to me. whatever! love you babe.

five. all i have to do is think about you and i’m not so tired anymore.

six. hey dumbass, i got you something. but only because you’ll complain if i don’t get you anything. so, like the greatest boyfriend that i am, i bought you something from each city. i know, i’m the best, no need to remind me. just wait a little more, okay? i’ll be with you again soon.

seven. pssst loser. i’m going to the museum today, wish i could’ve gone with you. not that i’m trying to touch your heart or anything, i just know you love going to museums and you’ll be complaining to me about how i went without you. ah, but the prettiest piece of art is back home, no? i wonder how it’s doing. how are you doing?

eight. jake hyung keeps teasing me because i won’t stop talking about you. i don’t even realize i’m talking about you so much, but he told me i was down horrendous. so what if i am? i’m just a boy in love for the first time. wait, unhear that. oh my god, you’re gonna tease me non-stop, aren’t you? unhear it.

nine. we were practicing just a little bit earlier today as our surprise song, and it made me think of you. i’ll sing you a little as a lullaby so you’ll stop asking me to sing to you. just repeat this voicemail when you need it.

ten. hi, i love you. (yawning) i’m so sleepy i think i’ll fall asleep now. call me in the morning. i miss you.

[leona-hawthorne]

hey love, congratulations on hitting 1k !!! you deserve it all and more ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡

can i request a latte art with mattheo, my fav class at hogwarts would probably be potions

xx

babe 🥹🥹 thank you so much!! i hope you like what i came up with, lovely 💌❤️‍🩹

1k celebration navigation latte art

ミ★ LEND A HAND?… mattheo riddle

The low hum of chatter filled Slughorn's Potions classroom as you settled into your seat, carefully placing your textbook and supplies on the table. It wasn't until you caught a faint hint of cologne—dark, woodsy, with an edge of spice—that you realized someone was standing beside you.

"Oh, uh, hey," Mattheo Riddle said, eyebrows raised in casual acknowledgement as he slid into the seat next to you. His usual smirk was replaced by something almost... curious. Surprised even. You had never worked with him in Potions before, so the sudden pairing was a mystery to you too.

"Hi," you replied, slightly wary but unable to ignore the intrigue bubbling up. Mattheo had a reputation—intense, unpredictable, both arrogant and clever, and maybe just a bit infamous for stirring up trouble. But there was something about him, something that made him hard to dismiss completely.

In the dim, smoky warmth of the classroom, you were feeling more confident than usual. Your potion assignment—a tricky brew requiring focus and a steady hand—had turned out a flawless, shimmering shade. Slughorn even gave an approving nod as he passed, the briefest of triumphs you were savoring when Mattheo slid his cauldron closer to yours, brow arched.

“Impressive,” he said, glancing between your potion and the scrawled notes on your parchment. “Mind lending a hand? Mine’s, uh… not quite cooperating.” He tilted his cauldron, revealing a dark, sludgy mess that could hardly be considered potion material.

You tried not to laugh, but the way he leaned forward, hands on the table and eyes sparkling with a mix of mischief and challenge, made it hard to resist. “Alright, Riddle,” you said, keeping your tone light but instructive. “You need to start with more of the snakeweed essence; yours looks way too thick.”

“Got it.” He grabbed the bottle and poured with what you could only assume was some kind of disregard for measurements, filling his cauldron with far too much. He gave you a quick, somewhat sheepish look before stirring it around with a bit more care.

“Now, add three drops of the jobberknoll blood—only three,” you stressed, watching as his focus intensified, his brow furrowing in a way that almost made him look sweet. But when you glanced down, you noticed his hand hovering over a different bottle.

“Actually, that’s—” you began, just as he tipped in the wrong ingredient, and—

Too late. He poured the contents straight in, and before you could react, the potion bubbled, frothed, and erupted in a plume of purple smoke. You coughed, blinking as your vision cleared, only to find yourself covered in a fine, shimmering dust. Your hair, your robes, your face—all sparkling with what looked suspiciously like glitter.

Mattheo stared, eyes wide and jaw slack as his hand flew to cover his mouth. "Oh... my god," he said, voice filled with genuine horror. "I... I didn't... uh... wow."

You just blinked, lips pressed together in a thin line. "I think 'wow' sums it up nicely."

"Merlin’s bloody beard,” he muttered, voice tight with the shock of what he’d done. His hand dropped from his mouth, revealing a slightly horrified but unmistakably amused grin. “I swear I’m not usually this…” He trailed off, searching for the right word, “…incompetent or… reckless.”

"Oh, I'm sure you're exactly this reckless," you teased, unable to hold back your laughter as he looked at you with an expression somewhere between mortification and amusement.

Mattheo rubbed the back of his neck, chuckling as he met your eyes. "Alright, you caught me. But—" He leaned in slightly, a spark of mischief lighting up his dark gaze. "How about I make it up to you? Let me take you out. No potions, no explosions. Just... I dunno, us, maybe a butterbeer. Could even be a glitter-free zone."

You blinked, unsure if he was kidding. “You think one potion explosion warrants a date?”

His grin widened, taking on a bit of that charming cockiness you’d heard so much about. “I’m saying I owe you. Let me make it right.” He leaned in, tone softening, the laughter still lurking in his gaze. “Besides, you never know. I might actually be tolerable.”

You arched an eyebrow, pretending to consider. "I'll agree on one condition."

"Name it," he said instantly.

"You owe me two drinks if I find even one speck of glitter on me by the end."

He grinned, nodding. "Deal. Glitter-free and fully charmed, promise."

[honey-crypt]

elliott that sings his heart out while drunk asf x gn/m farmer? You know the drill :3

also saying that again, ur writing makes me giggle n kick my feet have a great day dude

a/n: i went all out if you couldn’t tell, only the best for the queen of elliott art herself!!! also attaching the drunk singing elliott art she posted for visualization reasons lol. this was a literal blast to write, i had to rewind somethin’ stupid like a hundred times to get the flow right. also follow @fuerrziah cuz her art is the best and she is da best <3 

word count: 2.1k

warnings: alcohol, drunk antics, suggestive ending

summary: you knew elliott got a bit silly and unfiltered when drunk, but you didn’t realize that the man could belt it like the best of them until you witness him sing frank sinatra's somethin’ stupid.

★ sinatra - elliott x farmer ★

The Stardrop Saloon was the heart of Pelican Town, a bar and restaurant full of laughter and chatter every night, as Gus brewed pretty cocktails and Emily bounced from room to room taking and delivering orders. To some, it was a place to unwind after a hard day or to spend time with friends while to others, it was a second home. 

Often, you frequented the saloon to treat yourself to a meal and a drink, and tonight was no different. You were too exhausted from harvesting melons, chasing after chickens, and so on to bother microwaving something, much less cooking an actual meal. With a heavy sigh, you plopped down at your usual spot and waved Emily over with a tired smile, “Hey Em.”

“(Y/N)!” the waitress greeted you with her usual sunshine demeanor, “Good to see you tonight!” she clicked her glitter pen and hovered it over her notebook, “The usual tonight?”

“You know me well,” you chuckled softly. Emily scribbled down a few lines and stated, “Should be ready in fifteen. Can I get you a drink beforehand?”

“Water with lemon,” you answered, your mouth drier than the Calico Desert from the summer heat. Emily nodded and went behind the bar, pouring you a tall glass of ice water with a lemon garnish. She returned to your table and set the drink down on the wooden coaster, “Drink up and have a good night.”

“You as well, Em,” you hummed, watching the blue haired woman disappear into the crowd of bar patrons. The walls of the saloon vibrated from the amount of noise produced in such a small space. You weren’t surprised at the amount of people present at the Stardrop Saloon; after all, it was Friday, the busiest night. At least, Emily and Gus will get some good tips. You down your water without care, as some of the liquid spilled from your lips and down your chin onto your overalls.

“Parched?” a deep but honey-like voice hummed. You looked up and locked eyes with your closest friend, Elliott, hovering next to you. Ink stained his strong calloused hands, presumably a remnant of a hours-long writing session. 

“Absolutely,” you exhaled, “It’s hotter than Hades’ taint.”

Elliott snorted, emerald eyes crinkling up while he smiled down upon you, “I can agree with you on that, my friend. I fear that if it gets any degree warmer, I must forgo my long sleeves.”

You side-eyed Eliott’s sleeved arms, as he borrowed the seat across from you, seeing the outline of toned muscle. You could take your suspenders off, too. you thought to yourself, waving a passing Emily over and requesting another water with lemon, For a beachfront Hemingway, you sure have the physique of a Greek God.

“How did your day on the farm go?” the writer asked, resting his elbows on the table. You plucked your glass off the table and pressed it against your forehead, “I shoulda taken today off, but the mayor just had to request two dozen melons for his outing with the governor,” you grumbled, annoyed at Mayor Lewis but more so at the sweltering heat that suddenly enveloped the room. 

“Rest days are always good,” the redhead let out a low hum of agreement, “Perhaps, you can do so tomorrow?”

“I doubt it. Shane ordered three dozen hot peppers,” you sent daggers to the man in question from across the room, as Shane drank his beer by Gus’s prized wooden bear statue. Elliott’s lips formed a frown, “The life of a farmer, one of never ending labor,” he laughed. 

Emily approached your table and set down another glass of water with lemon for you, “Here’s your usual,” she added before placing a plate of spaghetti by your water, “Want some parmesan?”

“What is this, the Gotoro Empire? Of course, I want some,” you jested. Emily giggled and handed you the shaker of parmesan, “Just let me know if you need more,” she then directed her attention to Elliott, “Hi Elliott! You looking for your usual tonight, too?”

“Yes, please, my dear,” he answered, adjusting his suspenders, “And a pale ale for my friend, as well.”

“Coming right!” the waitress skipped off to the back of the bar. You raised an eyebrow at Elliott while you drowned your spaghetti in heaps and heaps of parmesan, “What’s the occasion?”

“Can I not treat one of my closest friends to a nice drink after a hard day’s work?” the writer clutched his heart, “You wound me, (Y/N).”

“You’re so fucking cheesy,” you rolled your eyes with a playful twinkle in your eyes, “You know I don’t object to anything free, especially a free drink.”

Emily returned with Elliott’s usual, a pint of beer and a crab cake, as well as a pale ale for you, “Enjoy your meals!” she gave the two of you a thumbs up, “Wave me down if you need anything.”

You touched your lips to the cool glass and drank, the hot and ice sensation of alcohol coating your throat, “Shit,” you exhaled, “I needed that, thanks.”

“Of course,” your friend offered you a smile, that stupid smile you often saw on the cover of a romance novel, “How about a toast?” he held his beer up, “To friendship and a hard day’s work?”

“I’ll cheers to that,” you chuckled and clinked glasses together. As the night went on, one glass turned into two, then three, and so on. You tapped out after two glasses, as for Elliott, the Scot in him already finished four glasses of beer. His cheeks were flushed like the color of his hair, his eyes fluttering while he held back a hiccup, “Oh Yoba…” your friend tucked some loose hair behind his pierced ear, “I think… I think I went overboard.”

“You think?” you questioned. Emily returned with Elliott’s fifth glass of the night and you mouthed to her, “Cut him off for tonight,” to which she nodded in agreement. 

“You usually max out at three, is something on your mind?” your ears rang and your head throbbed from the noise of overlapping conversations around the saloon. Elliott finished his fourth glass of beer, a bit of foam smeared on the right corner of his lips, “Oh, (Y/N), I won’t bore you-” he hiccuped, “-with my woes. I’m simply a tortured artist destined to be consumed by my work.”

You grabbed a napkin and leaned down towards Elliott, “Hold still,” you whispered, as you dabbed away the foam from his lips. His face turned to a darker shade of red, “You’re so close,” he whispered back, eyes hazy. You pulled away and set the used napkin aside, “Sorry, you had foam on your face,” you mumbled, averting your gaze.

Behind you, Pam dragged herself towards the jukebox and slammed a quarter in its slot, grumbling to herself about hating the cheerful swing of the current song, “Shit,” you heard her curse, “Wrong button,” the atmosphere of the saloon abruptly switched from chaotic to sombre, as a light guitar riff filled the air. 

“Oh!” Elliott leapt to his feet, “I know,” he covered his mouth to hiccup, “I know this song!” he then approached the jukebox and leaned on it for support, swaying his index finger from side to side to the rhythm of the music. You smiled to yourself and sipped your water, only to choke on it like a Yoba damn fool the moment Elliott began to sing.

“I know I stand in line… Until you think you have the time… To spend an evening with me,” his voice was a neat match to the original singer, a light baritone, “And if we go someplace to dance… I know that there’s a chance you won’t be leaving with me…” 

Elliott unbuttoned a few notches on his sea blue dress shirt, exposing his defined collarbone and a bit of wispy chest hair, “Then afterwards we drop into a quiet place and have a drink or two…” he glazed over your face and body with a drunken smile, “And then I go and spoil it by saying somethin' stupid like I love you…” Elliott untied his ponytail, luscious locks free from their confinement and resting against his shoulders.

Your pupils dilated; no longer was the saloon filled with static chatter and the slamming of glasses, but instead everyone ogled silently at Elliott, his vocals amplified. He pushed himself off the jukebox and stumbled a bit, taking your hands in his, “I see it in your eyes, that you still despise the same old lies you heard the night before…” he touched one of his hands to your cheek and cupped it, “And though it’s just a line to you; for me, it’s true and never so right before…”

“Elliott?” your voice croaked, your blood rushing to your extremities and your heartbeat overwhelmingly rapid. He gave you a lopsided smile and continued to sing, “I practice every day to find some clever lines, to make the meaning come true…” 

No, no. He’s just singing the song. This doesn’t mean anything, you tried to reason with yourself, but it fell short, as Elliott serenaded the next few lyrics, “But then I think I’ll wait until evening gets late and I’m alone with you… The time is right, your perfume fills my head-” he leaned closer to you and inhaled your musk, “-The stars get red and, oh, the night’s so blue… And then I go and spoil it all by saying somethin' stupid like-” you could feel Elliott’s breath against the side of your neck, as he sang in your ear, “I love you…” 

You couldn’t move, you couldn’t breathe. The alcohol in your system, the summer heat, Elliott’s closeness, made your mind go foggy; you were hanging onto every single word that spilled from the redhead’s pretty little lips. Elliott passionately belted out the instrumental pause, trying his best not to laugh, earning a laugh from you, nonetheless. 

He stood back up and pulled you off your feet with him, repeating the chorus, “The time is right, your perfume fills my head,” he twirled you around, “The stars get red, and, oh, the night's so blue… And then I go and spoil it all by saying somethin' stupid like I love you…” even when intoxicated, Elliott was a true Casanova, holding onto you and swaying you side to side to the music.

“I love you…” 

You met his eyes, oh how they shined like gemstones.

“I love you…”

Your knees turned to jelly, you clung to your friend for dear life.

“I love you…”

Your surroundings vanished; no more saloon, no more patrons, just you and Elliott.

“I love you…”

You leaned closer, your chest against his.

“I love you…”

You pressed your lips against Elliott’s, savoring the aftertaste of beer and crab cakes, as the jukebox switched to the next song and the world around you returned to its original state. Elliott kissed you back, you weren’t sure if it was the alcohol in control but Yoba, did he taste divine. Oh, to have the confidence of a drunken fool at all hours of the day, you grabbed at his hair and tugged on the strands, Elliott moaning against your wet lips. 

“Hey, you two!” Pam’s voice snapped you back into reality and broke the kiss, “Get a room!” Her words garnered a few similar statements from other bar patrons.

Through glossy eyes and clouded minds, you leaned your body against Elliott’s and asked, “Well… should we?” to which he pecked you on the lips, “That’s a splendid idea,” you tossed your own wallet on the table to pay for the two of you’s meals and interlocked arms with one another, supporting one another’s uncoordinated bodies. To the door and out you went, as you and Elliott roamed the streets of Pelican Town towards his cabin, exchanging laughs and kisses. 

…

…

…

bonus:

Back in the Stardrop Saloon, Pam plopped her ass back in her seat, relieved that the farmer and Elliott were finally gone. She gestured to Gus for another beer and commented aloud, “About time those two lovebirds figured it out.”

“Indeed,” answered Gus, as he dropped Pam a foamy beer, “They make a cute couple.”

“Oh, dear!” Emily walked up to Gus with the farmer’s wallet in hand, “They left their wallet here, should I run after them?”

Gus chuckled to himself and shook his head, “Put it in lost and found, I don’t think we should disturb those two tonight. 

[daydaydayrk420]

Anything with Chris Evans please -

Be my Muse pt1

Chris Evans x male reader

⚠️nothing really all the good stuff is in part two⚠️

🚨 Minors and girls do not interact 🚨

Y/n/n - nickname

This ended up being longer than I intended to so I split it into two parts

______________________________________________________________

Chris is a famous actor. Most famous for playing Captain America for Marvel. He's also known for being kind and caring.

Now y/n isn't known for anything. He's no celebrity. He's just a guy who works at the local bar. On the weekends though he teaches art class.

It's a weekend class that's joined mostly by old people who are doing it for therapy.

So basically he's just hosting art therapy. But sometipmes there are people who join for the art not the therapy.

And by sometimes I mean this weekend. What's so special about this weekend? Let me tell you then.

Now pull your hand out your pants there's no porn here.

The day started the same as usual. Y/n wakes up. Does his morning routine. Watches YouTube or plays games for two Hours. Check his bag and go to his car.

The drive is half an hour long without traffic. He parks in his usual spot in front of the studio building that he shares with two more classes. Both include art but they work on different days and don't include the therapy. So obviously those two get the youngsters. While y/n gets left with old shaky hands. Which he doesn't mind. He loves seeing the people relax and smile at their art.

He walks in and sees that some of his regulars are already there. They're all elderly people. They're just by their lockers and the cafeteria getting ready for the class. The ones who notice the younger man greet him with a smile. Which he returns.

"Hey, James." Y/n greets kindly at the shorter old man. James is the oldest grandpa here. 95 to be exact. Yes, he's here for the therapy part of the class. He's a veteran. "Hey y/n/m. How are you doing son?" James greets them with a happy tone. He always saw y/n as a family. James has also been part of this class since it started. Which was five years ago.

Y/n smiles and sets down the paper bag with James's favourite doughnuts on the table where the old man had his coffee. "I'm good j. No bar fight this week." The younger man joked as he sat opposite of James. Said man laughs and takes out a doughnut.

This has become a tradition for them. Share a chat and doughnuts before every class. Sometimes even James brings something to bite on.

"What about you? You seem cheery today." Y/n asks as he removes his jacket to get comfortable. James hummed and wiped the sugar pounder off his lips. "I'm happy." He said with a content smile. Which made y/n smile too. "And I have a surprise for you." That caught the younger man with surprise.

"Oh? What's the occasion?" The younger man asks with curiosity. "Let's just say it's my thank you for the happy five years I've had so far." That melts y/n's heart. He knows James suffered with depression and that he still might be. So knowing he can make James happy is all he needs to be happy too.

"The problem is my gift is stuck in traffic and will be here in about an hour." Jame chuckles. Y/n laughs. "Oh? What kind of a gift is that then?" He jokes. He's really curious now. Stuck in traffic?

"I ain't spoiling my long-planned surprise, kid." James laughs. The younger man dramatically pretends to be annoyed but a smile creeps onto his face.

The two of them chat for a bit before they all go to their usual places in the studio.

Y/n first goes to the toilet before he starts the class.

When he returns he takes his usual spot in the front corner of the class where it doesn't block whatever they're painting or drawing. He sets his stuff where he wants it and faces the class. He scans the faces. The elder people seem happy today. They all talk and laugh about their memories from the week.

That's until he notices a new face. A young face. But he's looking away. Y/n tilts his head. He knows that facial structure from somewhere. He's drawn it before.

"Alright. Does everyone have their supplies?" Y/n called out to get everyone's attention. He makes sure everyone nods or checks for everything.

That's when he finally catches the new face. Chris Evans. Chris fucking Evans is talking with James about what pain he's using.

"I see we have a new face here." Y/n cleared his throat to get everyone's attention. Chris looks up and smiles. "Would you like to introduce yourself or would you rather if they want to meet you they come to you." Y/n suggested as he always does so his students aren't uncomfortable.

"I'm alright thanks." Chris smiles. The younger man nods and looks at his papers to see what they're doing. "Alright so as usual. We have fruit on the stand. Or if you want to do your Topic that's fine too. The art style is all up to you, of course." He reads through his notes to make sure he's got everything. "Alright. That's about it. What song should we play first?"

The time passes by. Everyone's drawing including y/n. It's about time that y/n checks in with everyone. So he puts his brush down and goes to the first canvas. Eventually, he gets to James and rests his hand on his shoulders. "Hey, James, how's it going." He asks with a soft voice as he studies what abstract James is painting today.

It's just a bunch of paint splatter on the canvas. "The usual." The old man hummed proudly. Y/n nods and moves on to the next guy. Aka. Chris Evans. Aka Frank Adler. Aka. Y/n big fat celeb crush. But he keeps a friendly smile on his face and looks at the canvas. He stands stunned.

It's him. The charcoal outlines shape him drawing his art. "That's... Sweet." Y/n didn't know what else to say. Chris chuckles. "Thanks."

The younger man admires the drawing for a tad longer than he wanted. Eventually, he snaps out of it and looks at Chris. Who's already looking at him and smiling. Y/n blushes in surprise. Chris hands his hand out. "Chris."

Y/n wants to laugh because he obviously already knows who the man in front of him is but he doesn't and just grabs his hand. "Y/n" he shakes his hand.

"Y/n." The older man murmurs. "Handsome name for a handsome man." Y/n blushes at that again.

"So what brought you to my class?" Y/n wants to start a conversation. He doesn't want to move to the next person. He wants to talk with Chris. "Oh I was invited by James." Chris said casually as if that didn't just blow y/n's mind out of proportion. He looks at James as if asking "this is the gift?" And James winks knowingly.

The younger man faces Chris again and smiles. "James? How'd he manage to do that?" He's genuinely curious. "His granddaughter works with me. She's a movie clothing designer." The older man said as he set down his charcoal.

"Ohh. Jasmine works with movie stuff?" Y/n asks surprised. "You know Jasmine?" Chris looks surprised. "Not personally. Just from stories." The younger man said. Chris nods. "Well I should move on. Keep up your drawing." Y/n smiled and moved on to another person.

The class comes to an end and everyone gathers their things to leave. Y/n has to stay so he can lock up. James and Chris also stay behind.

"So? Happy?" The younger man jumps in surprise when he hears James's voice form behind him. The old man laughs. "I take that as a yes."

The younger man chuckles and nods. "Thank you James. I really appreciate you doing this."

"I know you wanted to meet him for so long. And when I found out that Jasmine knows him I tried my best to bring him here." The old man grins and pats y/n's back.

"Anyway I gotta go my pick-up is here." They hugged goodbye and James left.

"You doing anything after?" Y/n jumps in surprise at the voice from behind him. Chris chuckles. "Sorry didn't mean to scare ya."

"Uh no I'm not doing anything after this." Y/n chuckles nervously. "Would you like to go get some food with me?" The older man asked with a grin. "Sure." The younger man smiles and hides the fireworks that are going off inside his body.

And so they went out. They didn't really have a specific destination they just walked until they found something they'd crave. But that of course didn't last for long because paparazzi have found them. Y/n thinks fast and takes Chris towards the parking lot in front of the studio. He walks fast and moves through some alleys so they could hopefully lose the cameras.

They make it to the car and quickly hop in. They drive off. Once they've calmed down from the adrenaline they both laugh. "Good thinking." Chris praised.

Y/n smiles. "Thanks."

They put on the radio and talk as y/n drives home.

.

..

...

Pt2

[artssslut2]

rahhh i love art rahhh i love fluff take that as you wish

Inseparable

Art Donaldson x Reader

Summary: just a look into everyday life with your Husband Art and your newborn daughter.

You always knew Art would be an amazing dad but watching him in action was totally different. You thought you loved him before, but after seeing him care for the baby you made together somehow made you love him even more. From the minute Lily was born he was the best dad in the world. He wanted you to rest as soon as you all had gotten home from the hospital. While you recovered he would not let you wake up in the night to get the baby. You finally made a deal with him that if she needed to be fed he would bring her to you and then put her back to sleep. His little girl was already the biggest daddy’s girl, he could easily get her to stop crying the second she was In his arms, and she was looking more like him by the day.

Art took off two weeks from training, he wished he could’ve taken more but he was at the top of his game he couldn’t risk that. You pretty much had to force him to leave the house the first time.

It had been about a month since Lily was born you were still on leave from work so you decided to walk with Lily to the courts your husband trained at since it was such a beautiful day. You dressed Lily in the tiny Nike tennis dress that the company had sent Art while you were pregnant. When you had gotten there Art noticed immediately he dropped his racquet and jogged over to his two favorite girls. His coaches rolled his eyes at Art getting distracted

“Hey what are you guys doing here?” He smiled kissing you

“Lily wanted to come see her daddy play tennis” you cooed looking down at your little girl in the stroller

“Hey champ, how’s it going Lily girl?” He said lifting his baby out of the stroller “Oh my goodness look how adorable you look” he gushed while the three of you walked to the bleachers

“Donaldson! Come on we don’t have all day!” His hitting partner yelled to him. Art groaned,

“Go on we will watch for a bit” you said hitting his butt, he gave Lily a big kiss on the cheek and handed her to you carefully then kissed you on the cheek and ran back over to the court. Lily started fussing as soon as her dad gave her up. The two were inseparable, Art probably had worse separation anxiety than she did.

You ended up staying the whole practice you loved to watch Art play and so did Lily. Every now and then he’d give a wave or run over for a kiss earning a groan from his team but he didn’t care he only cared about his family.

Most of your nights lately had been quiet and slow, you were surprised at how much you loved it. Art would get out of training around 3 or 4 at the latest, giving your little family a lot of time together. Tonight you were eating dinner on your patio, Lily was in Arts arms of course. He never put her down even if he was eating or on the phone it didn’t matter.

“I loved seeing my girls at training today you know.” He looked at you giving you a smile, the same smile you fell in love with.

“We could watch you forever, maybe Lily will be out there with you one day.”

“Maybe… I’ve been thinking about it. I don’t want her to think she has to play tennis just because of me. I mean it would be awesome if she did but she can do whatever she wants. I want her to know we will support any dream she has.” He said seriously like he had been thinking about it for a while. You smiled at his thoughts

“She will know trust me. But something tells me she will want to do everything that you do” you laughed, even now Lily wouldn’t take her eyes off of Art. Art smiled looking down at Lily

“She’s perfect... Ready for another?” He smirked

“Not a chance Donaldson I need at least a year” you laughed. Art wanted all the babies he could have with you.

That night long after you and Art had given Lily a bath and put her to bed you and Art found yourself in bed cuddled up talking about anything that came to mind like you usually did before bed. Lately Lily has been the only thing you talk about and that’s okay with the both of you. As if on cue you heard a cry on the baby monitor, you tried getting up but felt Art pinning you down

“No you stay I’ll go babe” he said then kissed your forehead, you just rolled your eyes smiling.

Art walked into Lily’s room quietly making his way to her crib.

“Hey champ what’s going on” he cooed picking the baby up gently and holding her to his chest, Lily still cried

“You’re not hungry, you don’t need your diaper changed so what is it huh champ?” He asked softly swaying her side to side, she still wasn’t calming down. She was usually a very easy baby but every now and then she had her bad nights and Art could tell this was going to be one of them. He thought to himself ways to help his little girl, he walked with, her sang to her, rocked her but nothing worked. Art thought to himself, the room was kind of hot he laid her down to take off her warm footed pajamas and switch to something lighter, he picked her up while she was only in her diaper and she immediately stopped crying. The contact with her dads skin soothed her instantly

“Oh did you just wanna be close to your daddy Lily girl? Is that it?” He smiled patting her back. Art couldn’t believe how much he loved his baby. He looked at the crib and decided he just didn’t have the heart to put her back in it.

You looked at your phone wondering if you should go check on your husband because it had been a while. But then you saw him walk through the door, with Lily sleeping on his bare toned chest.

“What are you doing my love?” You beamed seeing your two favorite people

“She’s having a rough night I couldn’t leave her there all alone. So she’s gonna sleepover” he told you crawling in to bed carefully with the baby still on his chest

“Oh no Lily Jane” you stroked her cheek resting your head on Arts free shoulder. Art was in heaven with both his girls resting on his chest

“I love you y/n. Thank you for giving me this life” he kissed you

“Thank you for being the greatest husband and dad baby. I love you”

All three of you slept peacefully through the night, Art holding both you and Lily close his heart was so full.

[solargeist]

i keep mistaking some of ur kidxelqua art for ur grian art so i have to stop and read the captions/tags every time 😭😭 is there a fundamental difference im missing that would make it any easier

hi !!!!!!! no i understand it can be pretty confusing !! its pretty messy on my blog ahahah i'll try to explain them and their place in the AU

All the kid drawings are Xelqua ! Originally it was Grian, but as the character Xelqua developed, I changed it to him. When people send requests for kid Grian, i'm drawing Xelqua, as that is the AU.

This isn't 100% accurate as I forget to do it, but Grian and Xelqua part their hair differently, kid Xelqua does too. Xelqua's hair is always a bit longer. (Grian got a haircut when he joined the Watchers, thats why his hair parts different now in evoAU and HC, he just kept it shorter ! Xelqua used to wear his hair in a ponytail during his time with the Watchers.)

The reason why i say they're "technically the same" is bc Xelqua is just another Grian from a different timeline, he just has a different name. Xelqua only exists because this one Grian joined the Watchers, new possibilités opened new timelines, ones where he died, ones where he's a Listener instead, or ran away to different servers, or stayed. Xelqua is the only one to have reached Sainthood.

Because of this, Xelqua can hop around timelines, he usually just bugs other versions of himself, helping them, giving them tnt. He finds This Grian during s8 of HC, bugging him through the boatem void, briefly possessing him later, but hey ! water under the bridge !

Xelqua's timeline doesn't exist anymore after becoming That, but by becoming That he has essentially rewritten history in other timelines, solidifying himself as a saint of destruction, a destroyer, this is what the Watchers know him as, this is what evo Grian knew him as, even if Grian caused it--It already happened--Xelqua has always been here. (It makes Grian's head hurts when Xelqua explains this to him.)

Basically: Grian set off a chain reaction when he joined the Watchers, and that opened new universes, and in doing that, Xelqua is made.

Xelqua is powerful, but also very lonely and has a lot wrong with him, which is expected he spent many years with the Watchers. Xelqua can mimic any version of Grian he wants, but if he stays in that form for too long, he'll start to forget himself and instead think "Xelqua" is a patron, rather than himself. This is why kid Xelqua will usually praise the Saint Xelqua and be proud of his own name, he just doesn't know ! It takes a little while to remember himself and change back. This also happens in high stress, (bc of course it does, i love when a character loses control of their powers hahaha,) the memory is much worse if it happens from stress. You can't talk kid Xelqua out of this, it'll stress him out further and you'll just have a little god child throwing a temper tantrum then, never a good idea.

After s8 in HC EvoAU, Xelqua hangs around, popping up sometimes in s9, mostly in his adult watcher self. They don't get along too well at first, Xelqua has a little bit of bitterness over Grian having such a fun life, all these friends, needed, wanted..... But whatever ! Xisuma doesn't know how he keeps getting in, but Xelqua has been on good behaviour, so...... Shrug... Just let him visit sometimes....

Xelqua's version of the Watchers are gone, the unfortunate conséquences of becoming a destroyer, you kinda rip your own timeline apart. This, added with the fact that he is a cautionary tale in every other reality to Watchers, means if he tries to visit other versions of his Watcher family, they won't really know who he is, and just see something destructive and chaotic. If he wants to see Aether, he'll just... hop in a timeline and change himself into a kid and quickly forget what he's done. He's lonely, ok !!

Xelqua starts doing this kid bit on HC (late s9/early s10) too, he doesn't exactly mean to, but he does feel safe there. He eats Grian's food and takes over his couch and no one can get mad at him bc he is just a little kid--grian puts him in the corner. timeout. a few dead birds hit the roof as a result.

[1-900-venusluvs]

I adore you, I swear.

🍃! Plug! Miguel O'Hara x reader !🍃

A/n: I got an ask about a plug Miguel x reader but my laptop crashed and I lost the ask. I'm so sorry stinky butt but here it is 🤞🙁, but dw this is only part one the next part is smut🙏. btw credits to JesGreenEight on Deviant art for the banner! ngl it might be short.

cw: miggy fw's u heavily 😼, reader's kinda like shy when they around him, weed, a cheesy porn plot boo me all y'all want!!

You needed to get some weed from none other than your dealer Miguel O'Hara. There was no problem having a favorite client but you were different. With your timid voice and shy actions, you had him swooning. Lately having alone time has been pretty tough on you and you needed a release, the sad thing was, you didn't have any money. You thought to yourself,

 “how can I even buy weed if I barely have any money” 

you pick up your phone and you start to text your dealer. 

Y/n: hii do you still have any left? :((

He immediately texts back. Before you can even close your phone. He was into you but can you even realize that he wants you? His favorite client. 

Secret Spidey: So needy for weed? Come to the same spot. I’ll be there in 20.

You rushed to change. Even if you were in a hurry you didn’t wanna look bad at least. You quickly noticed what was the point. It’ll be quick. you put on a jacket as you walk out of your apartment. You walk to your destination, the back of an abandoned corner store. Usually, you two would meet in his car but since it’s under repair he used his motorcycle to meet you. He doesn’t treat you like other clients, He even offers to smoke in his car with you. If you were some other client he would’ve given you only just weed and a cold glare with it. As he walks up to you you both realize how he was much taller than you and most definitely towering over you.  

“Hey, Miguel..”

 you say with a bit of a grin. 

“Oh bunny, what's up, you told me you needed some right? 

“Bunny? Where in the hell did this nickname come from?” Your thoughts cloud your head as you think about all of this, how close he was to you, the cute nicknames, how his eyes practically show hearts in them when they look at you.  

he puts his hand on your back and smiles as he does you start shaking slightly from a cold breeze hitting the back of your neck. you were gonna ask a stupid question and you knew he would get a bit pissy. 

“Miguel.. uhm..I was wondering if you can give me..some for free..you don’t have to it's just-“ you say ranting, hoping for him to at least hear you out on why you want the free deal. He cuts you off with a sudden deep sigh. He looks you in your eyes and in reaction, you put your head down immediately. 

“Aren’t you just the cutest huh?” He says with a faint chuckle before disappearing. Before you can even get a single word in, you open your mouth and something comes out but yet again he cuts you off. 

“Don’t worry your pretty little head yea? I’ll get you some weed, I just need you to do something for me..” your eyes light up with interest then he smiles at your eagerness. He always had eyes for you and you were just his type.

“Okay I can help but how so?” you asked biting your lip. you pray that he would say something back that you would like. It sounded like a cheesy porno but honestly, he was attractive and so were you. You have known this man for years so what’s the harm in that? you guys are just two people wanting to have a release and maybe more. Who knows?

this was my old taglist but here you go pookies ♥: @moon-rivr @monstera02 @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @lazyjellyfish300 @chiwhorei

[feyhunter78]

Hi!! I’ve been thinking about that one scene in 10 Things I Hate About You, when Patrick walks Kat to the swings when she’s drunk and he says “Leave it to you to use big words when you're shitfaced.” Except! Kat is Nerd Miguel who somehow ended up drunk at some frat party or something, and Patrick is reader who has to deal with his antics. I imagine him spewing random scientific words/facts that reader tries her best to understand. All while she’s just trying to sober him up a bit. This lil scenario has been running through my head, and who best to share with than you!

(The chokehold you’re Miguel, specifically nerd Miguel, has on me is insane! It’s a great distraction while at work! <3)

I love that scene so much!!!! I made this a bit different, but I think I still hit the mark for ya anon <3 (Also this is a normal house party bc guys that are not in a frat are not allowed to attend frat events just like with sororities!)

House Parties

Art cred: Treelover_5

Nerd!Miguel masterlist

You weave through Brett’s parents’ guest house on the edge of town, downing your drink as you search for Miguel. It was really nice of Brett to invite you and Miguel to his pre-winter break bash. You know Miguel doesn’t party much, and Brett has been trying to encourage him to come out of his shell, so this was the perfect opportunity.

The sound of chanting draws your attention, and you see Miguel surrounded by a few other friends of Brett’s. Brett seems to be explaining something to him, car keys in hand. You drove here, so you know the keys aren’t Miguel’s, which makes you feel a bit better.

“Chug, chug, chug.” They chant, and you watch as Brett and Miguel simultaneously shotgun their beers, the foam dripping down Miguel’s tan skin.

Smash. You think instantly, your brain supplying you with images of what Miguel might look like as he comes up from between your legs, his lips, and chin slick with your arousal.

Then Miguel throws the beer down and throws his arms up victoriously.

Brett finishes, then throws his beer down as well and hooks an arm around Miguel’s neck, bringing him down to his level. “My boy Miguel has done it again! Absolute beast of a man!”

The other guys cheer, and you see Miguel smile shyly.

He’s been gaining in popularity, not that he really cares, nor do you, but it makes you happy that he’s made some new friends. Even if those friends challenge him to shotgun races.

Miguel spots you before you can even breach the circle and latches onto you. “Y/N, I won, did you see?”

Brett gives you a look that means dude should probably get some air, and you nod in response.

“Yeah I did, hey Miguel, you wanna step outside with me?”

“Yes, always.” He says instantly, his lips far too close to your neck for you to feel normal about.

You guide him through the crowd and out the door, his arm slung over your shoulders. He’s so heavy, all those stupid hot muscles making him dead weight as he mumbles to himself incoherently.

“What was that sweet boy?” You ask, when you hear something that sounds like your name.

“Did you know that the hydrochloric acid in the human stomach is so strong it can dissolve metal? Thin metal, mind you, but still, metal.” Miguel says, his cheeks red, his glasses perched precariously on the edge of his nose, and a goofy smile on his face.

“Wow, that’s crazy.” You say, struggling under the weight of him as you try to lug him over to a nearby porch swing, the neatly trimmed grass around you littered with solo cups and soaked with various spilled drinks.

“And beer—beer is twice as fizzy as champagne. I know this for a fact, I had four or so beers? They taste bad, did you know that?”

“Yeah, house parties usually have pretty cheap beer.” You laugh, swaying a little when Miguel leans on you.

“And cheetahs, super inbred, ten thousand years ago, taboos were broken, and now they’re all…ya know, the way they are.” He continues on, letting out a surprise oof, when you slide him onto the white porch swing, the weathered green cushions not doing much to break his fall.

“Very cool, so now can you tell me what the hell you were drinking in the twenty minutes I left you alone? Besides beer? Because Miguel, you are so fucked up.” You ask, sitting next to him, your legs tucked beside you as you turn to face him, an affectionate smile on your face.

He drags a hand down his face, and his glasses fall into his lap. He pouts at them, a small aw leaving his lips.

You pick them up and hand them back to him, and he clumsily puts them back on.

“Brett suggested we do shots before the races, he passed his midterm, we were celebrating with him.”

Fucking Brett. You loved the guy, he was nice, nonthreatening, watched out for you when you were in the Sig Epp house, but he also was a menace, who wanted everyone to be as drunk as he was.

“Miguel, you’re a big guy, but you don’t have Brett’s tolerance.” You pat his chest consolingly.

Miguel looks at you, eyes a little hazy, his shirt unbuttoned far more than it normally would be, his hair ruffled. “I’m tougher than I look.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” He leans his head back against the swing, staring up at the stars. “You know a cloud can weigh around a million pounds?”

“I did not know that.” You respond, trying to see if you can check his pupils without him noticing.

He notices and rolls his head to face you. “Everyone blames women when they don’t have sons, but it’s actually male genes that decide it.”

“I did know that one, actually.” You say, as you run your hands through his hair, pushing it out of his face.

He smiles, and you swear it’s brighter than any star in the sky. “You’re so smart, y/n.”

You’re taken aback for a second, heat rushing to your cheeks. “Thanks, that means a lot coming from you.”

“So smart and so, so pretty. I know I said it’s on me, but will you give me a girl y/n? I want a daughter with you, my brains, your everything else, she’d be unstoppable.” He says, his words slurring together. Then he falls forward with a yelp, hands, and elbows hitting the dirt.

You sit frozen in shock, staring down at Miguel, before you snap out of it and scramble to help him. “Shit, Miguel, are you okay?”

He holds up his right hand, it’s bleeding. “Just put some sugar on it, it’ll heal faster.”

“Full of fun facts, aren’t you?” It’s another trip back inside to find a sink and a band-aid, his words still bouncing around in your head.

I want a daughter with you.

Fuck, he’s going to kill you one day, and you’ll let him.

Not me doing a little callback to what Miguel thinks at the end of his encounter with drunk y/n hehe

TL: @bat-bae, @nyctophilic0vitnir, @smokeywhalee, @obi-mom-kenobi, @prowlingforfood, @penggion, @crystal-crax, @oharasfilipinawife, @generalkenobitrash, @melsimps, @chrishy973, @farrowroyale, @palesatan, @scaryplanetdestroyer, @denzmallows

[makrustic]

Hello, I'm new to doing pixel art, and I have a question about your process (if you're okay answering it!) I was wondering if you work at a size around 200 pixels (or something similar) and then use "Sprite Size" to resize it to around 800+ pixels to make the image large enough to post? I've been messing around with aseprite to figure out how to get the blocky look of pixels while also having it be large enough to post, and this is the method I've found might work, but I don't know if there are any faults with it, and if there's a different way I should be doing it? Also I am so glad your art ended up on my dash a few months ago, your work is so beautiful and expressive, it's like nothing I've ever seen in pixel art, it totally lives in my head rent free now haha

Hey there, that's a good question about workflow and shiz, thank you for asking this! For me, I usually work at say 320x180 pixels on a piece, and if you resize that up to 600%, that turns into 1920x1080. In Aseprite, doing the 'Sprite Size' resizing makes it so that the canvas itself is way bigger than what you started, making changes to it very hard if you do the resizing bit. If you want to make it big enough to post, without having to upscale the canvas itself, you can just go to File > Export > Export As, and then resize it to the percentage you want, which in my case, is 600%.

That way, you can basically export it to what size you want it to be, without having to change the canvas size itself, upscaling everything and messing up the piece. And bonus tip, if you want to export a size that's like, way bigger than the maximum percentage available on the resize, say you want the 320x180 piece to be 3840x2160, you can just export the 320x180 to 1920x1080, then take the 1920x1080 and export it to 200%, bam, 3840x2160, 4K. Hope this helps with the workflow stuff, and thanks for checking out my work, I really appreciate little messages like this! Go and make the world your oyster.

[jvdbxart]

Flamehearted darling Karlach ❤️‍🔥🌌

If you'd like to give bb Karlach a new home - smaller, medium and bigger prints, as well as Fine Art prints are available in my Etsy Shop! 🥰✨

The WIP shots for this are a little more chaotic than usually - I went back and forth between 3 different files for this; One to paint Karlach herself, one to paint the background and integrate Karlach into, working in shadows and lighting to make it look and feel more cohesive, and the third one to add a little bit of blur for an additional depth of field effect, as well as some extra lighting. Doing all of that in one file would have definitely lead to poor pc performance & corrupted files 🤣 And so while in order, the wip video isn't as linear as it usually is. But hey, we love a little chaos sometimes, right? Anyhow - I really do hope you enjoy her! 🥰 Have a lovely weekend everyone ❤️✨

[obsessedwrhys]

Aesthete

(adj.) Someone with a deep sensitivity to the beauty of art or nature

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ where Abby let's you draw a portrait of her

c/w: fluff, reader is female because I refuse to believe she's straight 😡, abby being insecure (?), gun talk, some cursing, just two lesbos bickering like a married couple, kissing, did not proof read this!!

ᯓ★

Inside your shared room, you somehow found yourself painting on another canvas after just telling yourself you'd be done with your last one. Since you were a kid, you've always been drawn towards anything that had to do with brushes and colours. It was better spending your time painting rather than talking to people, they were always rude or just straight off insensitive. All except for someone...

Abby...

She always adored your skills. Everytime you were assigned to go on patrols together, she would just peek her head from behind your shoulder to see what you were doodling in your journal. Out of everyone you knew, she was the one constantly bragging about your drawings to her friends. And you guys aren't even dating!!

Yet... which you always liked to tell yourself.

With your brush applying another soft stroke on the canvas, you started to grow bored of it, another idea already crawling up from the back of your mind. Maybe you could try doing a portrait, you have the experience but you just don't have the subject. Almost out of instinct, you knew who to find. Pretty much the only person you'd figure would be fine with this.

Abandoning your brush and pallette on the round chair, you decided to leave and try to find Abby. It wasn't hard to find her since she would spend almost all of her time in the gym. Swinging open the glass door, you headed in and walked past several other WLFs who were also training, your eyes glued to one person.

There she was, doing bench presses as usual.

You decided to stop a few feet away from where she was, almost like you were in a trance from watching her biceps flex each time she lifted the heavy weight. Not wanting to be seen as a creep, which you already have, you walked closer to make your presence known. "Hey Abby" You said with a smile. Your voice startling her a bit.

"Oh, hey" She said before setting the weight back to its rightful place. She sits up on the bench as she looks at you with a friendly smile. "You need anything?" She said, always kind and polite towards you that it somehow made you feel all giddy inside.

"I was wondering if you'd liked to be the subject of a portrait I'm doing" You said and your words struck her a bit. She looked like she just received news of something big. "Uhh... if you're worried about the portrait turning out ugly, I promise I'll be extra focused on the details" You said, figuring if that was the reason behind her reaction.

"Huh? Ah no, I wasn't worried about that. I'm just surprised you'd pick me" She chuckles awkwardly as she stands up, her height scaring you a bit. "Did you expect me to pick someone else?" You asked, the two of you walking side by side.

"Well... maybe I figured you'd choose someone more... elegant" She said, holding the door open for you to go first. "Elegant?" You scoff out of amusement.

"Didn't you show me one of your books? Where all of the people drawn were wearing those tight dresses and having their hair up so high" Abby said, recalling the memory.

"Pssh, that's different, trust me, I know what I'm doing" You opened the door to your room, inviting her inside.

"Whatever you say" She responded with a playful smile. Once you closed the door, her eyes were already examining around the room that's messy from all of your art stuff.

"Seems like you didn't take my advice" She said, looking at the stack of books you had thrown along with the pile of discontinued drawings.

"I'll do that later" You said dismissively since you realised everytime you cleaned your supplies, you were always gonna use it and make a mess anyways, best to save it for a day where you have the energy to clean.

"Soo uhh... what do I...?" Abby walks over to where you're busy setting a brand new canvas.

"You can just sit at the sofa so you can be right in front of me" You said, putting everything in place and she just does what you instructed. She finds herself seated in front of you and it somehow made her shy. Does she pose or...? This is all new to her.

"You can move your body around a bit, just try not to move your head a lot, so uh... relax" You said, already picking up your brush. "Got it" She said as she leans back onto the cushion.

With your focus on the portrait, you failed to notice the way she was watching you, her gaze was full of warmth and admiration. She was eyeing your every move as if she was watching a film.

"I never got to ask, how did you learn to paint?" Abby said and it made you stop in your act to think it over. "Can't remember exactly when, I just knew it was fun to do so I kept doing it" You simply responded and she smiles softly at your answer. "Fun huh? Is that why you're doing a portrait of me?" She said and her playful tone made you almost freeze in place.

"I guess you could say that" You said, your hand carefully doing the shades of her face. The room remained quiet for a moment, just faint sounds of your brush mixing together different colours on your pallete. "Can you lift your head up a bit?" You asked and she does just that. "Perfect" You said and quickly press your brush back on the canvas.

Your eagerness had her struggle to contain a smile. "If only you were this passionate about your gun training" She said since this was a topic that you could care less about.

"I don’t really like guns, it's too violent for me"

"True... but its also the reason why you're still alive. C'mon, at least fix your aim" She said which had you turn to look at her.

"Whats wrong with my aim?"

"Errr..." She trails off, struggling to find the right words but you were well aware of what she was trying to say. "Just try not to have your bullets flying everywhere" She said, her response having you raise an eyebrow at her.

"... don't make me draw a hairy moustache on you" You threatened which had her laugh.

"Am I supposed to find that scary?" She asked to which you pointed the end of your paintbrush at her to warn her to be careful of her next words. This action just encouraging her even more but for her sake of not wanting a horrendous looking moustache on her portrait, she'll stop.

After a while, she let's out a soft sigh. "Getting tired?" You asked, your face hidden by the canvas so she couldn't see you.

"A bit" She admitted with an embarrassed chuckle. Your head peaks from the side of canvas, trying to mimic the sweat that was still present on her forehead due to her earlier workout.

Without even realising, you were basically staring at her face a little too hard. It was funnier from Abby's perspective cause all she could see was your pair of eyes staring at her so intensely. "Am I too far away? You're looking pretty hard" She joked, pointing out how your brows were slightly narrowed.

You ended up shushing her which she found amusing. "I'm thinking, don't disrupt my thoughts" You said.

"Yes ma'am"

After a couple of minutes, you managed to finish the portrait, just a few details here and there then you were finally satisfied with yourself. "You can get up now" You said as you carefully added some tiny dots or lines. Abby pushed herself off the sofa and stood beside you.

"Damn" She said, blown away by the portrait you had done of her. It was like a reflection in a mirror. "What are you gonna do with it?" Abby asked as you stepped back to finally admire your work. "I don't know... maybe I'll hang it up somewhere in my room" You said. This caught her interest almost immediately. "You want a portrait of me in your room?" She asked, seeming embarrassed.

"Well do you want it in your room?" You asked which made her go silent.

"It's fine, I really don't mind, you'd be surprised by how many scary things I've painted and displayed on my walls" You said, carefully picking up the canvas and moving it to the other side of the room. Abby simply follows you with her arms folded.

"Comparing my face to scary things doesn't make it sound any better" She said and you could sense a tiny hint of frustration in her tone which had you chuckle to yourself. "Stop being a baby and help me hang this up" You said after finding a open spot on the wall to put it.

"You.are.unbelievable" She shakes her head slightly with a defeated smile as she takes the canvas from your hand before standing on the chair to hang it on to the nail.

Once she was done, she stepped down from the chair to stand beside you. The two of you now staring at the portrait.

"I have to admit, you're really gifted" Abby said and it made you turn your head to look at her. "Thanks" You smiled at her compliment. The second she turns to look at you, you felt yourself melt at her stare as if her blue eyes were hypnotising you. You swore for a second you could see hearts popping up around her.

Why is she looking at you like that?

Like you're the single most beautiful thing she has ever seen

"If you uh don't mind... could I stay for a while?" She asked, her voice so soft it was intoxicating.

"Sure" You blurted out without even thinking twice.

Noticing how flustered you looked, Abby tilts her head with a grin. "You okay?" She asked but her tone was anything but concern, it was like she was teasing you, knowing the effect she had on you.

"Yeahh, I'm good" You turned around and began walking back to your supplies, feeling as though you needed to escape her presence quickly to be able to think straight.

"Are you sure? Cause you looked like you wanted to kiss me just now" She said and it stopped you from reaching out to your brushes. Your mind was short circuiting.

Fuck this woman...

"And what if I said I wanted to?" You managed to say since it was easier that you weren't looking at her.

Suddenly you could hear her footsteps approaching you from behind, almost like each step she took added a weight in your chest. The tension on you shoulders relaxed the moment you felt her hands placed on them, gently, she turned you around to have you face her.

"Then kiss me" She said, no, pleaded. Her face showing how much she also wanted this.

You leaned in closer to her, the two of you haven't even kissed yet but just from the feeling of your chests pressed together made you both breathless. Eventually you pressed your lips on hers, taking it slow as you wanted to savour this moment, but it didn't last long as the desperation started to grew.

Within seconds, you were kissing Abby hard and she did the same, her hand wrapped around the back of your neck while the other is placed on your hip. The kiss was messy. Your hands grabbing at whatever you could on her body as you were completely lost in the taste of her.

Your touch was driving her crazy as well, thinking back to the countless nights of how she much she wanted this. To have you this close, to have you melt just from her lips. Out of breath and feeling tired, you pulled away but Abby didn't let you and quickly pulled you back in for another kiss. Her action causing you to yelp and for a sec she felt her stomach flip. She chuckles.

"So pretty" She muttered before pressing her lips back on yours again and again, not wanting the moment to end.

"Abby..." You laid your hands on her arms and she pulled back to admire you. The mess she had made of you.

"Yes...?" She said, gently caressing your face.

"You keep kissing me and I'm gonna pass out" You said and your words had her chuckle softly.

"Sorry, can't help it when your lips are so sweet" She said, her thumb rubbing on your cheek affectionately.

"Did you think this would happen when you asked me to come over?" She asks.

"Ummm... maybe?" You said. You had a feeling something might happen but you never thought it'd turn out like this.

"I've just liked you for a very long time but I wasn't sure you felt the same" You confessed and her smile grew wider.

"Seriously? What, was me bragging about you to everyone not obvious enough? Should I have been starting a fan club for you so you'd find out better?" She teased and you smacked her on the shoulder playfully.

"Maybe you should, then I'd know that you actually liked me" She sighs, pretending to act like she's regretting this missed opportunity.

"You're right. Maybe if I did start a massive fan club dedicated to you, we would of had this kiss sooner" She said, leaning in closer to have her forehead rested on yours.

"Well we're here now aren't we?" You looked up at her, a smirk on your face.

"True" She then started to move and you couldn't help but let your eyes flutter close, waiting for her to kiss you again but somehow the feeling of her lips on yours never came.

You opened your eyes and found her actually moving her lips inches away from your ears instead. "How about we clean your room now, hm?" She said which had you in disbelief. She was now reminding you of how dirty your room is after just kissing you.

"If tidying up my things is so much fun then sure" You moved away from her but she was quick to follow you.

"If I get to spend more time with you, I don't see anything boring about it" Abby said, already on to arrange your stack of unorganised books. You watch her with a look of gratitude, knowing this mess is gonna take a very long time to clean.

"Thanks Abs"

"You can thank me with a kiss after we're done" She shoot you a cheeky smile which had you roll your eyes with the corner of your lips curving upwards.

"Fine" You stood beside her to help with putting your books in order. Seeing how focused you were, Abby couldn't help but have her hip nudging yours on purpose to get your attention. You chuckle, knowing this cleaning session is gonna take a while.

(Now I'm gonna do super duper angst Ellie, this plot has been stuck on my mind 😄)