#I checked drafts again and I don’t remember typing out all these tags and I wonder why I haven’t just posted it yet so here you go

[m00n-pr1sm]

I AM SICK AND TIRED of characters I’ve been liking as of late not getting a resolution to their arcs or a backstory because the shows they’ve been in have been cancelled

[fyodere]

gakuen!fyodor smut

my cold fingers running through your hair.

﹙ 💬 ﹚── parings: fyodor dostoevsky x fem!reader ♡

₍^. .^₎⟆ ── content warnings / tags : nsfw content (mdni), high school!au, fyodor is mean, nasty absolutely filthy smut, misogyny kink, corruption kink, academic rivals, petnames, degradation, fyodor is a sadic, hairpulling, blowjobs (m receiving), underage (you and fedya are like 17), catholic guilt, wet dream, dirty thoughts ♡

﹙ 🔪 ﹚── synopsis : Fyodor never liked you, not with your presumption and your ability to always get the questions right in the classroom. He not only didn't like you, but he hated you, even though he despises you as woman, you constantly occupy his thoughts. However, somehow, you haunt him. Fyodor wakes up with a start, he realizes that you were present in his dreams. A dream he would pray to forget.

﹙ 🩸 ﹚── author's note : GAKUEN!FEDYA SMUT BABYYYY oh lord you guys don’t know how much i’m excited for this. I even made an ai bot of this concept on janitor ai. this was on my drafts since last year so excuse my grammar 😩 i hope you enjoy it !!

୧ ‧₊˚ 🔪 💬 🐈‍⬛ ⋅

Still breathless, Fyodor tried to look around to rationalize the situation. He could see straight now and his eyes were getting used to the darkness of his room.

03:27AM

Oh.

Dostoevsky sighed. It was late, he needed at least one good night of sleep for his upcoming test and cello practice. Now his body is feeling uncomfortably awkward. This was unusual, Fyodor always keep everything in check. Maybe if he tried to close his eyes, and if he lay really still, he could trick his body into falling asleep again. It was a good plan. Obvious, but still good plan. Fyodor smirked for himself as he close his eyes again, of course he always have a plan.

But then, the sudden feeling on his throat came back. His heartbeat is racing again. What is it? No, It couldn’t be…

Fyodor opened his eyes with a slight feeling of rage. He remembered.

Oh, he remembered.

And for the first time, he wished for his brilliant brain stop working. Fyodor knew how his memory was sharp, but now it feels like a big waste of time.

Fyodor had a dream. A dream that he would pray to God just to forget. Could he call it a nightmare?

It wasn’t a nightmare for sure, but it was still cursed. Maybe uncomfortable and embarrassing.

Embarrassing. Ah, how Fyodor was glad that anyone couldn’t look at his poor face at this moment. He hates when he doesn’t have full control of the situation, keeping his feelings under control was a form of not getting lost, he is used to it.

Fyodor doesn’t dream regularly. He was a really sleepy or not sleep at all type of person. When his body finally gives in to fatigue, the dreams become blurry because of his mind’s tiredness. But Fyodor doesn’t mind at all, Dostoevsky couldn’t see the mystical side of dreaming. For him, this was only a way for his mind process everything that he saw through the day.

That’s why his friends appear regularly when he dream about something. Sometimes his family when his subconscious is trying to process his past — even though Fyodor is neutral about most of his dreams, he would consider these the bad ones. Or at least the ones that he would like to forget.

But it wasn’t that type of bad dream either.

When Nikolai or Sigma appear on his dreams things get a lot lighter. It always ended up being a relief. Sometimes he chuckles for himself in the most unfortunate moments remembering those. Fyodor let a nasal laugh come out when this thoughts come on his mind.

No. This wasn’t the answer yet. His dream hadn’t been any of those things, but he is getting close.

He dreamt of you.

You.

This wasn’t surprising for him though. Fyodor knows — Oh God, how bad he knows — how he keeps you on his mind. Fyodor could justify himself telling that you’re his rival and it’s normal having plans about the next provocative thing he is going to say when you guys met again, or spend time thinking about how he is going to destroy you in the upcoming test.

Fyodor could pretend that he was fooling himself with those false conclusions, but he knows the truth, he always knows. It’s the greatest Dostoevsky after all, the special child that was gifted, or even better, blessed with his brain.

But it wasn’t the case, and Fyodor knows that too. He always knows. Another sigh came out of his mouth, Fyodor closed his eyes and take another deep breath. When did he allowed himself feeling this emotions? This wasn’t right. But he can’t keep torturing himself, maybe just for tonight he will allow all those thoughts come — Just for releasing them in the next day, of course.

Fyodor still could feel the warmth. It was cleaning day and you were his duo, this mean that you’re going to be together for a while. It may sound exhausting, you guys were rivals and have a psychological war while cleaning was kind of messed up. You guys were in a silent truce. No one had to flag this, you both could read the situation — And each other’s thoughts, even though you’re not going to admit that —, you payed too much attention on him just like he recorded every reaction of you. From your facial expressions from your small and smooth body movements. Every detail.

Well, it’s not like you could run away. You also committed your sins when spent too much time looking at Fyodor bitting his thumb while he was concentrating, you hated how playful yet majestic his actions are. Everything about him just fitted so perfectly that you couldn’t help but feel some anger— Or just full yourself to believe that you’re not feeling other type of intense feeling beside rage.

You were sweeping the classroom’s floor while Fyodor cleaned the windows. The sun was setting and the sky was turning into a beautiful orange color slowly turning darker as the clouds complemented it. Suddenly, everything felt warm. Fyodor was looking at you by the window reflection, he also could see how much he was staring and this made he feel ashamed. You could feel Fyodor’s piercing gaze even though he wasn’t even looking directly. You couldn’t help but give a small smirk.

“Looks like someone can’t focus on his little task…” You said playfully, your eyes were still looking at the floor while you sweeps. You wanted to give that unbothered impression. “Am I distracting you?” You finally looked up, he was still looking at the window. You could hear his sigh — It almost sound like a laugh.

How presumptuous. Fyodor thought. And you know that he thought that. It make you chuckle, this unexpected harmony was slowly tying you two together.

“Oh.” Dostoevsky finally turned to you. His silently confidence makes you want to shut his mouth before he even dare to speak a word. “Oh, darling, I almost forgot that you are here.” Now was Fyodor’s time to be presumptuous, and he knows how this will get into your nerves. “Trying to get an excuse to talk to me, ah? How cute.”

You let a tsk come out. Fyodor felt victorious keeping you silent. Now you’re looking at the floor again, sweeping the classroom. Even though your eyes were focused the task, your ears still work perfectly. And you heard Fyodor’s slow footsteps getting closer. You know he is behind of you now, but you try to play clueless.

“Hmmm…” Fyodor is getting closer to you, he is speaking next to your ear. Your body gets tense. “What is it now? Little mouse got scared?” His voice almost sound like a whisper, a very teasing one. His breath is touching your neck and ear. Where did his russian accent became so provocative? Now his hands are slowly moving to your waist.

Fyodor likes how you look small next to him. You look so vulnerable, so easy to tease. He can’t let you scape now. Now his hands travel till they reach out your upper body. Dostoevsky couldn’t help, he squeezes your uniform letting it wrinkled. Your breath got heavy as he keeps touching you, unfortunately, you catch yourself biting your lip to not let a moan slide. Fyodor’s touch feel so great, he loves how his big and skilled hands can hug perfectly your curves and play with them.

“Wait…” You finally open say something after opening and closing your mouth for a while, your voice is a little shaky and a few sighs come when you talk. “Not here, what if somebody—“

“Hm?” Fyodor cut you off abruptly. He doesn’t like when you complain, he likes to have full control of the situation. “I’m not doing anything, darling. Am I?” Now his hands squeeze you more roughly, as if he wants to get a better reaction from you. The russian young man has a smug look on his face. You look so fragile and easy to mess with. He enjoys the sense of control, Fyodor is taking the lead now, and you feel like a loser for enjoying it so much — It’s like screaming that you lost.

Dostoevsky's eyes widened slightly, and his fingers tightened around your waist, making you feel uncomfortable. He didn't seem to notice your pain, though. Instead, he leaned forward, pressing his lips against your neck. His mouth was cold and dry, but you could still feel his tongue licking your exposed sensitive skin. When he finally pulled away, he smiled, his eyes glinting with satisfaction. He let go of you and sat back in his chair, his hands resting on his thighs. He seemed to have forgotten about your existence entirely. You felt like nothing more than a toy he played with when he got bored.

Dostoevsky is silent for a moment, contemplating whether to continue or not. He looks at you with a half-smile, a hint of cruelty in his eyes. He knows how to play with words and actions, and he takes advantage of every opportunity to make sure that you´re miserable and uncomfortable around him. He is not someone who shows affection or warmth, and he is definitely not someone who is good at expressing feelings. He is a cold, calculating man who sees everything in terms of power and control. His tone is still harsh, but there's a hint of softness in his voice when he says. "You're not doing anything?"

You decided to act like a greedy whore and got into your knees.

Fyodor pulls down his pants and underwear, revealing his cock, which is already hard. He strokes it slowly, watching you closely. He seems to enjoy the way you react to his actions. He keeps on talking, his voice is still harsh, but there's a certain amount of tenderness in his tone. He doesn't want you to feel bad, just frustrated and unhappy. He is a sadistic bastard, but he has a soft side too. And it shows in the way he treats you. "Now, tell me, what do you want? Do you want me to fuck you? Or would you prefer me to beat you? Which one do you like better?"

"Hit me. I challenge you." You giggle in a act of courage. "I know you can’t—" Fyodor chuckles darkly, a sign of his humor. He's not laughing at you, he's just teasing you. He slaps you across the face, hard enough to make you cry, but not enough to draw blood. He leans in close, whispering in your ear. "Tell me, how do you like being treated like a piece of meat? A toy to be played with? A slave to obey? Because that's what you are, isn't it? You're nothing but a whore, a filthy, worthless piece of shit."

Fyodor was merciless. He didn’t care about the brimming tears in the corner of your eyes, didn’t care about your shaking legs or your small chokes.

Slobbering sound filled the small stall, and you sat on the floor obediently like a little puppy as he used your mouth to his liking. Your uniform was wholly unbuttoned, bundled up at your elbows with your nipples peeking from your bra.

It was always his favorite look on you, clothed in the school’s garb. The uniform that should represent your focus on studies and discipline is wearing for you choke on him. Fyodor has to admit how pleasing it is, it arouses him to the point of madness.

“Good little mouse, now, open your mouth and stick out your tongue.” He commanded once more in a commanding but still seductive tone. He was loving this, the power is was feeling. His smirk grew as he continued, he was loving every second of this.

His eyes were dark and sinister now, they were almost completely in a reddish purple tone. His pupils are comically big due the excitement. He seemed so in control now. He loved it.

Fyodor smirked once more as you do as asked. You seemed to be getting really into this now.

Your tongue pressed wide and flat. Fyodor shuddered at the feeling, at your tongue rubbing over his slit, precum oozing out. You did it again and Fyodor let a moan slide out, you was pressing the tip of your tongue into his slit now, coaxing out more of his essence. Dostoevsky loved the feeling, he loved how pathetic you look like this.

It was so intense, the sight of your lips curled around his cock, how piercing his arouse gaze was. You hummed before sinking down, swallowing as much of Fyodor’s length as he could. Dostoevsky was panting, the feeling so intense that it was almost overwhelming. You began to suck harshly, cheeks hallowed out and you was bobbing your head now as well, head going up and down as you sucked Fyodor’s cock. The russian didn’t want to say it loud, but he wasn’t going to last.

"Good little mouse, I knew you could do it." He said in a soft and seductive tone, his eyes closed in pleasure. His hands moved to your head now, he loved the feeling of her hair in his hand. He seemed a little proud, even. He felt like he had helped you, in a way. "Good girl..." He whispered as he gently stroke your hair.

You keep sucking him harshly, enjoying how he felt warm inside of you. You couldn’t help but let a few tears coming out. The intelligent girl with a sharp tongue was gone, now you’re just a little whore to Fyodor play with — and you both sightly love this.

“Do you like to be dominated by a man like me, little mouse? Are you such a submissive little girl?” He asked with a smirk. He seemed to be amused by the whole situation, by all the control that he holds now. You can almost feel that he was about to release.

You felt your panties dampening as he say that, he grabbed a fistful of your hair keeping your head in your place as he changed the pace to a quicker one, accelerating the beats of your heart. He was pulsing inside your mouth. He was so close, so close, so close…

Fyodor just couldn’t resist. The wet and warm feeling of your mouth along with your pity puppy face was driving him crazy. You are being so obedient to him. He need to fill your mouth a little more, just a little more…

“Jesus.” Fyodor said to himself, alone in his room. The dream was wild, he feels pretty ashamed by how sinful and dirty his mind can be when he is asleep, at least you will never know that. Right now he just want to close his eyes and go back to sleep, but this weird feeling don’t leave. His hair still feel sticky and his forehead sweaty. His skin felt so tight like a growing claustrophobic feeling.

Oh, wait.

Dostoevsky looked down to his pants with a disgusted face. How shameful of him. Now that he has knowledge of the weird feeling on his body it’s easier to ignore.

Ah, for sure he isn’t going to go anything about that besides ignore. Fyodor genuinely believe that masturbation is a stupid thing, he is not going to waste his time — and risk his inner pride doing such a thing.

Dostoevsky closed his eyes taking a few deep breaths, he just needed to clean his mind. Maybe counting one to one hundred could help, Fyodor just need to take you away from his thoughts.

He just didn’t expected how addictive this fantasies are.

hii heres part two <3

[phyrestartr]

Those Ghosts We Cannot Burn | Dabi x M!Reader

w/c: 1k cw: past trauma, canon-typical Todoroki family, mentions of child abuse, canon-typical violence, graphic language, difficult relationships #Eventual NSFW, bl, dunno who is top/bottom yet lol, hurt/comfort, angst, drama, reader is yakuza, reader and dabi have history, sorta enemies to lovers?? Notes: AAAAH short little snippet but I wanted to post anyway!! I need to get drafts out of my system or I'll go mad lmao...they're all just clogging up my google docs...it's so bad dude OTL so many WIPs

(ALL tags): @kamote-kuneho @tr4nnie @silvern1006

1. Hello, My Past

The bodies of his victims hissed and burned with a life only fire could leave in the path of destruction. Dabi knew it well–he was made the same way, after all. But they'd go on to simply disappear, their ashes fluttering away with the Autumn breeze while he continued to conquer his fate. 

“Hey, you're the one they call ‘Dabi,’ right?” 

The man in question paused, ears perking at that shitty, monotonous tone. Hah. It pissed him off. It made his heart hum, too. Weird.

“Who's askin'?” He drawled, tucking his hands in his pockets as he turned to face you with languid steps. When he caught sight of you in that alleyway, he almost remembered something, but couldn’t find the will to dwell on it.

“I am, on behalf of Shie Hassaikai,” you said, adjusting the cuffs of your jacket. “You've been torching our men, y’know?”

Dabi smiled. “And? You want an autograph or somethin’?” 

You quirked a brow, looked him up and down, and scoffed. “You got a pen? Or, even know how to write in the first place? Don’t look the type.” 

“Oi–”

“Anyway,” you continued, “You wouldn’t be willing to stop murdering ours while our respective leaders discuss their deal, hey?” 

Dabi clicked his tongue. Annoying. “Their deal's got nothing to do with me.” 

“Guess you're not as high up as they said, then.”

“You're a real pain in the ass, y'know?” 

“It's kinda my job.”

“Maybe someone should relieve you from duty.”

A torrent of blue bloomed and crashed through the alley with the vicious hunger of a tsunami. Sparks exploded and flames lashed against stone and concrete, engulfing sky, earth, and all in-between with his show of firepower–a show he never grew tired of, one that never failed to remind him just what he lived for, what he–wait.

He squinted. What the hell?

A bright silhouette stood in the centre of the violent cleansing, wholly unmoved by the villain's flame. It wavered like a candle tousled by the night breeze, but it did not fade away with the light, nor with the wane of fire. And in the aftermath, once the alley fell quiet and dim once again, there it still stood, staring his way with a light that might rival a god's true form.

“You done?” You asked, voice crackling through a veil of blue. 

Thousands of questions and thoughts rushed through his mind–what the hell was that? Who were you? What was your quirk? Why was your fire blue, too?--but he couldn't settle on one, not long enough to spit it out, anyway. 

“I'll consider that a yes,” you decided. Your form re-materialized with a small flourish embers, and you breathed in deep. 

Dabi tried not to let on how bothered he felt. “What the hell was that quirk?” 

“Does it really matter?” You hummed, smiling. “The only thing you need to know is what you just saw–you can't get rid of me. Not with those flames of yours.”

“Hah. You sure about that, pretty boy?” His fingers twitched, eager to try his hand again. “I could crank the heat up for ya, see just how much you can handle.”

“Maybe another time,” you said, half-distracted as you checked your phone. “For now, remember what I said. Our bosses are trying to work together. Don't make this difficult.”

You turned halfway through your thought, showing Dabi your back without a care in the world. You must've really thought you couldn't be hurt by him. You must have really thought you were better than him. You must have. 

But the sirens roaring toward the alley ruined his chance at demolishing you. He could take them on, but he'd rather not deal with the headache that'd follow–heaven knows he'd get reemed by some of the other villains for taking the PR crap too far. 

Fucking prick, Dabi seethed silently. He'd have to kill you some other day. 

–

“Touya,” you called, voice quiet.

The boy next to you, the one you squished into that single bed with whenever nightmares found him, stirred. Only your voice seemed to pull him free from the lull of dreams and nightmares, oddly. 

“Yeah?” He whispered, clearing his throat, grimacing again at the scratchy stiffness to it. 

“Once the doc helps you,” you started, sounding too serious for your age, “I think we should leave.” 

“What?” Touya rubbed sleep from his eyes the best he could without tearing stitches and skin grafts apart. “What the hell is–”

Whatever else he had to say died in his throat when he caught a glimpse of you in the filtered moonlight; your calm, passive look of day had shifted come the night. Your face was kinder, exposing flickers of forbidden thoughts for none but one to see and soon forget, come the beckon of sleep. 

“What the hell's your problem?” Touya breathed. 

Your brows furrowed. “I don't want to be here,” you answered. “Have you even considered trying to go to your family? We could–” 

“I did go back. Nothing's changed.” He smiled, bitter. “Those fucking sheep abandoned me already.”

“I won't abandon you,” you promised suddenly. “We can talk to them. Together. Come on, Touya–” 

Touya laughed a pathetic, little sound. “Are you serious? They don't give a shit about me, they're not gonna give a shit about–do you think you're better than me? More special?” 

Your eyes grew round. “Wh–I never said that.” 

“But you think they'd listen to you, and not me,” he hissed, something igniting the hollow paths of his nerves and revving him back to life. “You think I'm not–”

You covered his mouth with a quick hand, and he held your wrist with a weak grip. “Shut up. You don't know what I think, so–so just shut up.”

I know what you think. And he was determined to prove you wrong, one way or another, even if he had to rip himself apart to do it--but you saw through him so easily. You always did; you always knew how to push his buttons then reset the system before he blew up.

And when you leaned in and kissed the back of your hand, the one still clasped over his mouth, he did indeed reset. Completely braindead once again, he was.

“Forget I said anything,” you huffed, turning your back to him and settling back in. 

And Touya tried to forget, even though his mind buzzed and his heart thudded against his ribs. He tried, and he tried, and he tried.

[soraviie]

you don't trust androids.txt

━ type: BTS (hyung line) x f! reader

━ about: android! au, heavy angst, slight fluff, nothing majorly fun 

━ pictures taken from Pinterest  ━ navigation

━ c/w: implied smut, mentions of suicide attempt, mention of near-death experience, mention of losing a limb, a portrayal of poor mental health, undercurrent of dystopian themes, mention of losing bodily autonomy, mention of hating one’s body, mention of depression and anxiety, discrimination against androids

━ wanted to keep this one in the drafts but here it is T-T

NAMJOON: “There’s a ç in Jean Lurçat,” he points out helpfully. His programming suggests it is friendly but the way your teeth grind suggests otherwise. Perhaps…cavities? Humans were prone to them and Namjoon was no medical unit to know any better, he was after all an informational unit. But you don’t seem to be appreciative of that either. 

“Have I done something wrong?” he asks. 

“Contrary what your chip states, being an obnoxious know-it-all is not helpful!” you snap, red rimmed eyes meeting his. “I mean, who do you think you are?”

He blinks. You’ve met dozens of times already, surely you knew who he was. 

“My name is Namjoon,” he points at the tag on his chest. “I am an informational android unit. Here to help.”

“Well, you’re not! Not by nitpicking every single sentence I write!” you hissed and despite it not being expected, he experienced an operational error. If a sudden simulated pang of sadness could be called that. 

He rarely gets to talk to anyone in the museum and over the course of these weeks with you coming in and out of the building, he’d assumed, naively, that he’d made a friend for the first time in his life. Or existence rather, he corrects. Androids were not alive hence they could have no, well, life. 

“I apologize,” he bows curtly and leaves, shoulders slumped. You watch after him feeling like the grandest asshole in the world. 

“That’s because you are,” you chide yourself before slamming the multi-kilogram art book closed shut. 

A week passes and despite it not being a part of his programming, Namjoon is sulking. You’re nowhere to be seen. Maybe you avoided him due to it being awkward. Or maybe you just flat out hated him. The operational error occurs again - it makes his stomach feel like a gaping hole in spite of him knowing it was full of wires and memory cards. Perhaps he should be checked for bugs. 

“Excuse me,” a thin voice appears behind him and he finds you shifting from one foot to another, a gift in hand. 

“Hello!” he greets you pleasantly, face contorting in a dimpled smile before recalling last week and lets it deflate quite fast. 

“Are you in need of assistance?”

“No, I came here to say “thank you” and apologize. It was rude of me to insult you. I’m just…” you exhaled, shivering faintly to yourself with nerves. “I moved here only recently and I’m not used to androids. Not that it is any excuse for my behaviour. It was cruel, I apologize.”

“Accepted,” Namjoon graciously nods along, the weird bug in his stomach evaporating into thin air. He glances down at the anxiously clutched gift bag. 

“Is that from your family? Was your thesis accepted?”

You glimpse at it almost self-consciously. 

“It did. You caught onto all the mistakes so there were no objections from the superiors hence…thank you. You were not being an irritating know it all but…helpful,” you offer him a small smile and he encounters a different sort of bug, this one gnaws on his chest. “It’s for you.”

Astounded, he gently accepts the bag and peers inside. No one has ever given him anything. Inside there sits a folded shirt. The quality of the cloth is to his liking and on the tag he spots the name of the company specializing in android wear. It must have cost a small fortune. 

“I thought at first to give you a book but you probably already know everything and then I remembered you wear the same clothes every day but I didn’t know which colour-”

“It is perfect,” Namjoon interrupts, his wires suggesting that the limit of his smile has reached the maximum capacity. “Thank you, ________.”

You squirm but then frown. 

“Why is your face so red?”

“Uh…an operational error,” he lies. trying to appear sincere. “Will I be seeing you here?” 

“Would you like to?” demurely,  you question and he eagerly nods. 

“Very much.”

YOONGI: “So at which point you thought to inform me?!” you shrieked though it came out more like a hysteric squeak. But who wouldn’t be upset when their boyfriend, previously assumed as human, factory reset himself whilst being balls deep into your guts. 

“Baby, I can explain,” he begins, cautiously inching himself across the bed but you throw yourself against the headboard, clutching the sheets to your chest. Not that there was anything left to hide anymore.

“You better!” you yelled. “You knew from the very first meeting! I don’t trust androids!”

He licks his lips guiltily. He looks human. Acts like one too yet even so you can’t help but feel like an utter dimwit for being fooled like this.

“I know, I know,” he mutters guiltily, running long fingers through the orange hair. He said he dyed it. Bud did he? Did it matter? What else did he lie about?

“And I’m sorry for that! I meant to tell you. I did! But you wouldn’t have me if you knew early on and I liked you so much. I…love you so much.”

His gaze lands to sit dead onto your eyes, a feat for Yoongi indeed and despite expecting to see some blue lights, cogs and wires stretched beneath the artificial material there’s nothing but the familiar brown staring back.

“No fair,” you grumble. “Busting out the L-word.”

He chuckles fondly - a sound you adore even after this mindfuck.

“Can’t risk you running away from me.”

Gingerly, he touches your knee and you flinch.

“It may be a synthetic skin but it’s real,” he whispers moving to softly cup your cheek. “I’m the same Yoongi you’ve always known.”

Unwillingly, your body relaxes as he does his magic, fingers grazing through your hair in a monotone, calming motion. His ultra-effective weapon to having you be soft.

“But how can you…feel?” incredulous yet truthful, you ponder out loud. “You run on…programming…?”

“I’ve been a free android for twenty years,” he insists. “All my "programming” has rusted so much it’s running independent like a human brain would. No exterior orders.“

"So what was that?” you abruptly plank attempting to demonstrate his sudden seizure. “What was that all about?”

“Oh,” he laughs timidly, the gummy smile on show and ears flushing pink. You wonder if there’s wiring there as well but then simply let the matter rest. “I realized I love you, want to spend my life together with you and I…I freaked.”

“Good or a bad freakout?”

He leans in to peck your lips.

“Good,” he mutters in between kisses. “Very, very good.”

JIN: “Want to hear a joke about pizza?”

“No.”

“Good, it’s too cheesy.”

You could physically feel your eyes roll 360 degrees around your skull. The recovery and betterment android unit, J-I-N-100, levels you down with a thoroughly displeased scowl.

“Why aren’t you laughing?” he frowns. “I specifically requested it.”

“Fault in the program,” you slighted, moving to adjust the IV drip.

“Ah! A derogatory reference to my existence. How very original.”

His face and tone is neutral, for all intents and purposes he could have just recounted the level of precipitation outside. That’s what’s wrong with them, you think to yourself, how quickly they can go back to being robotic. And frankly, it’s not all androids you can’t stand to be around, it’s this specific unit that’s been making your life a miserable hell, even further than it was.

Losing a limb, a leg, in this case, was hard. It still continues to be hard. The bitterness that seeps from the court decision - the overruling of a criminal penalty for the drunk driver who’d mowed you over was a bottomless well. On top of that, churning away at a hospital, trying to regain the simple ability to walk using a prosthetic leg made you claw at the walls frequently enough and then this thing came.

The jokes you could tolerate, barely but still, but you couldn’t, couldn’t handle to watch him get his palm crushed one day and then without a care in the world church it away, grab a new one like a brochure at a religious congregation, given away like candy, and stuck it onto himself. No recovery period, no shock, no trauma. Brush it off, move on. How could you not hate him when he joked to you all day long as you fell out of bed or fell walking due to the simple fact that you were human.

Pain was the basis of all life and he felt none. To be in the presence of something that was not alive yet acted as though it was…unnerving. Deeply unnerving yet humanity had already moved past being the only humanoids, moved past the notion of disgust for artificial intelligence, leaving you to choke alone on the bouts of spontaneous rage.

All you heard whenever he opened his mouth was “tiny, pathetic human, wriggling around like a worm”.

“You bent your leg the wrong way,” he points out and your head twitches upwards, removing the crayon-coloured painting of yours from your vision. It’s now brimming with his face, one he said is of course mechanically engineered as it was perfect. He was perfect. A thing he often remarked on.

“What?”

“Your leg,” he repeats slowly as though talking to a child. “It’s made of a similar structure as my legs, if you bend the knee in that position, it’ll wear out the joint wiring.”

You hadn’t even thought about that. This leg…this leg doesn’t belong to you. It’s like him. An alien object lodged onto you. A parasite.

“Here, lemme fix that,” he reaches and on the brink of hurling, you kick yourself away, falling onto the floor. Android unit J-I-N appears almost startled.

“Don’t touch me! Do not touch me! Get out!”

“I can’t!” he objects weakly. “I’m your personal betterment unit if you reject me, I’ll be -”

“I DON’T CARE! GET OUT!”

For an android, purposefully wired being not meant to experience fear, he looks terrified. And that expression haunts you.

Waking up in the midst of a deep night is nothing new. Doctors said the traumatic event of nearly dying and then losing a limb will give you hours upon hours of unslept nights. Walking was still difficult, especially in the dark of the hospital where everything was quiet and creepy. Usually, J-I-N-100 would help you, asked or not, guide you to the bathroom, or fetch you a glass of water but after kicking him out he hadn’t shown for the entirety of the day.

You wander the halls blindly and then the knee jerks on its own and you find yourself on the floor.

“Fucking shit.”

Trying to push yourself off the linoleum, you faintly hear a peculiar noise. A strangled noise of crying. At first, you dismiss it. It was a hospital people cried day and night, every hour of the week but the sound is so terrified, so broken you couldn’t bear to continue the asshole routine.

Following it, you stumble upon the escape stairs, grey and empty and in the middle of them sits unit J-I-N-100. Crying. An android crying. A sight you never assumed was possible.

“Uh…are you okay?” you dumbly ask.

He hides his face away, shoulders shaking before a venomous hiss flies your way.

“Why do you care? I’m a machine.”

You stand awkwardly.

“If this is about what I said, just ask for them to transfer you to a different patient-”

He abruptly laughs loudly and dryly, a laugh of no amusement.

“You don’t understand do you, human? There are no transfers for androids. If we don’t satisfy our patient, there are no do-overs! I’ll be sent to the HQ and be,” his voice drops into a hush. “Be disassembled.”

For an android that was death. You didn’t like him but for him to die due to your displeasure was tyrannical.

“I’m sorry,” you gasp. “I-I didn’t know.”

“You don’t know anything,” he accuses heatedly and you couldn’t blame him.

“No, I don’t.”

There’s a beat of stilted silence.

“You hate that leg of yours because it’s like me. It’s strange. An alien organism. You hate for having these parts but they are not mine. Every part of me belongs to someone else. My eyes, my ears, my legs have been replaced thousand times over. This body is not my own and yet I’m forced to reside in it. Do you have any idea what that feels like?”

Abruptly, all his magnanimous tirades about having the most perfect body make sense in another kind of way. He must have been trying to convince himself of liking it when the truth couldn’t be any further away. Your words now feel sickening and a surge of want, to protect, to shield this android, makes you almost dizzy.

But he doesn’t care for it. Not anymore.

“Please, leave,” he asks. The sound of his voice is broken, worn to its absolute limit. “If I’m around you it is my programming to smile and I don’t want to smile anymore.”

You oblige and close the door to the staircase quietly behind yourself.

To be home again was to experience bliss. Your small, overcluttered apartment had never appeared like the gate of heaven itself. The smell, even the crowded look into the smog-ridden city below is pure ecstasy. Putting the crotches down you sink into the sofa, nearly crying at the comfort of unity. But then that grading, awful sound interrupts your ecstasy. A fucking neighbour. Grabbing the crutch, you’re already prepared to beat these annoying motherfucking neighbours into the next planet only to find J-I-N standing on the other side.

His expression is murderous.

“Why did you do that?”

Timidly, you shift in the doorway.

“I was trying to help.”

“You lied!” he cries out. “You chased down the board members of the android unit assignment, harassed them for hours and then lied to their faces that I’m the most adequate, most perfect unit in the facility!”

“Did it work?”

He calms down, hands coming to stand still by his thighs.

“It did. No unit has ever reached such a score.”

You nod.

“But you hated me…” he breathes, even without any visible cogs, you can see how the logic of your action is not computing in his brain. “You literally hated me all this time.”

“I don’t wish you death. I would never want that!” frustrated you trying to run a hand through your hair only to remember it is supposed to hold a crotch now. “It’s just my fragile human psyche. I’m sorry for it and I’m sorry you have to go through everything. It’s horrible.”

He seems to be beaten into a state of stupor only to shrug.

“It…It is what it is.”

“It shouldn’t have to be.”

For a while, there is only the muted sound of either of you trying to make some sort of conversation.

“Because of what you did, they’re reassigning me. Private health field, I’m a home care unit now.”

“That’s…great,” you weakly surmise. You don’t actually know if it’s great or not. There’s a lot you don’t know. Maybe it was high time to fix that.

“Wait does this mean you’ll be reassembled?!”

“No,” J-I-N shakes his head. “No, reassembling or disassembling. Home care units change very little. Just a little update and I’ll be sparkly new.”

“Perfected the perfection,” you try to joke and he chuckles weakly almost sounding surprised that someone might amuse him and not the other way around.

“Do you…” he shakes with nerves and you grow ever more astounded. He was so alive. A very peculiar android, one who couldn’t give it credit for his programming. Whatever happened that made J-I-N, he was different. Perhaps he made himself different.

“Do you need a home care android? Your recovery period is almost a year.”

“They sent me a catalogue but I haven’t gone through it yet,” you throw your head at the inside of your apartment.

“May…I apply for the job?”

You blink at his demureness.

“But I’m awful.”

“You were,” he agrees. “But you’ve got an update and besides I’m in need of employment.”

“I…” you think it over. In spite of not getting along, you still had grown at least accustomed to him. And J-I-N was far more gracious than you would have been in his situation.

“I’m okay with that. Are you?”

“Yeah,” he squeezes a small smile. “You’re not the worst human on the planet anymore.”

“Thanks,” you snort.

“Also fair warning, this update will contain nearly 68GB of various puns and jokes for the sake of breaking the ice with the patient.”

You feel a part of yourself shrivel and die with that information, still, you force out a polite -

“Looking forward to it.”

HOSEOK: “But…but what am I supposed to do with him?!” as quietly as possible, you hiss into the phone where a woman sighs at your incessant questions.

“He is a mental health android unit, treat him like an app or something.”

“He’s not an app!” you argue with some heat. “He is an android! A being! One you sent to my home without my consent.”

“Well, you shouldn’t have tried to slit your wrists open at a workplace,” she snides and drops the phone, leaving you open-mouthed at the sheer audacity before slamming the phone down into the kitchen counter.

“Your levels of adrenaline and anger are out of the norm. Should I help you to relax?” the android’s voice pops up unexpected right beside you and you scream.

The last thing you wanted after being discharged from a mental institute is to be observed. Like a zoo animal. What will it do if one does this? What will it do if one pokes it in this spot?

“No, please, it is not necessary,” you trail off, fear gripping you whole. This thing will live you. For three months, there will be a stranger, designed to hover over you like a Damocles sword. You couldn’t even feel safe in your own home when it was anxiety in the first place that wore you down so much you wanted to escape it in any way you could.

The mental health unit leans its head to the side. He looks very human, it must be the absolute prime model and somehow it’s even more disturbing. It’s a humanoid that was not human and that knowledge activates some primal terror gifted by your ancestors. You’re choking on your tongue.

“I’ll just use the bathroom,” you force out and make a run for it.

It takes hours for you to exit, shaking on the tile floor was time-consuming and finding the android unit freely moving through your space doesn’t put you at any ease.

“What are you doing?” you rasp.

He turns around, beaming wide and you shudder.

“Making dinner,” he replies cheerfully. “Your file suggested it will be one of my duties.”

In his hands, there sits a cup. It’s your favourite cup. It wasn’t passed from generations, it wasn’t a gift and it wasn’t really that expensive. It had a chip in the side and you bought it essentially from a flea market but it still is your favourite cup. One he has usurped like your peace in your own home.

“Please, don’t..don’t touch my stuff.”

The smile falls from his face and noticing your intent, scared gaze at the cup he places it down.

“But I…I have to make you dinner.”

“You don’t. I’ll do it on my own.”

He blinks, struggling to understand. It goes against his programming, while the emotional core of his does state he should instantaneously assume greater distance. He was creating unease, something he was not engineered to do and the two clashing commands were rapidly wearing down his operational core.

“I can…run you a bath. Baths are beneficiary for human beings.”

The thought of undressing in front of him, of being that vulnerable, nearly makes you gag.

“No, please, just do nothing.”

“If I do nothing, my dispatchers will think you don’t want me.”

“I don’t want you. I’m scared of you.”

His mouth despite it being an impossibility runs dry.

“You’re scared of me?” he echoes weakly.

“You’re a stranger invited into my house without my consent. Of course, I’m scared of you!”

“Right,” he buffers. “I-I…I’ll log myself off in the hallway. Will that make you feel better?”

It’s probably cruel, nevertheless, you nod. You couldn’t be around anyone and despite the opinion of general denizens, androids did count as someone.

Shoulders slumped, he dragged himself away before plopping to sit by the door and proceeding not to move. It was creepy.

At night, you hear him moving around and shivering underneath the blanket from the rampaging onslaught of paranoia, you could not relax for a single second.

Weeks pass and the mental health unit keeps an intrepid vigil to keep out of your way. You don’t even know where he is at times as he occupies no room and makes no noise but at times you almost forget he is there. He still performs some menial tasks when you’re away either being tested or taking a prescribed walk and exercise class. Your floors are too clean and when you fail to make food for yourself it magically appears, though you note that they’re not served in your dishes and neither your pots nor pans were ever used again.

Coming home late one night, you step over the threshold and find it empty and dark, abandoned almost but on the counter there sits a cupcake with a simple note attached.

“I’m very proud of you, ______________.”

Heat rushes to your eyes and your throat tightens. You can’t even recall when was the last time anyone said they’re proud of you.

“Umm…mental health android?” you call out. He didn’t even have a name you realize. He wore no badge and there was nothing in his introductory form. “Mental health android?”

No response. Perhaps, he left. You gave him no order, maybe it somehow messed with his programming so bad he left. You rifle through the apartment high and low, in the end, finding him crouched in the broom closet. It’s an awfully minuscule space, not suitable for anyone, be it an android, human or a cat but it is the only space in the entirety of your home, you did not look into. Just how long had he slept here for your convenience.

You lean down and shake him but he does not wake.

“Sir? Sir?” you shake him harder but you might as well be handling a ragdoll. “Sir? Please, wake up.”

At that, his eyes pop open and you screech from the abruptness of the motion, falling on your backside. He rushes to help you up but pulls his hand away at the last second, conflictedly squirming in the place.

“Are you okay? Are you in distress?” he questions nervously and you gather yourself off the floor.

“No, I’m just…” you sigh. “You shouldn’t sleep in the broom closet. It’s too small.”

“It was the only hiding place. I would not scare you there. You would not see me.”

Something in the innocent explanation, so purely kind-hearted, mellows your own.

“Please, use the living room.”

He nods stiffly.

“Also uhm…” unwillingly, tears pool in your eyes. “Thank you for the cupcake. Did you…make it?”

He shakes his head sadly and solemnly.

“You did not give me permission to use your things, so I bought it.”

“With what money?” as far as you knew androids couldn’t pride themselves on the biggest income.

“I work odd jobs at times,” he shyly confesses. “If I earn enough money, I can apply for citizenship and become a self-sustained android.”

“You used that money to…” you choke. “To buy me a cupcake.”

“To buy you all food and the flowers by your bedside table.”

He shrugs it off with such ease like it’s not by far one of the kindest things you’ve seen a humanoid do.

“Oh, no, don’t cry!”

Too late you’re absolute sobbing your heart out. About everything. When you were little you thought it will be such a dream. It wasn’t. It wasn’t a dream at all.

He once again reaches to hug you, probably due to his programming but holds himself back, to be respectful, however, you hug him first, not caring anymore that his skin is synthetic and his brain is made of chops. You just need someone to connect with. Any connection, any at all would be bliss and this android has shown you unbridled kindness no humans in your life would.

When you’ve cried out half the hurt, not all but a decent chunk, a steaming cup of chamomile tea, served in your favourite mug sits in front of you as the rain taps against the window. It’s easier to breathe. The android sits unsure at the edge of the sofa, uncertain what his next action should be.

“Do you have a name?” you ask, twiddling with the edge of the blanket.

“I’m a mental health care android unit 9876Q36x/3.”

“Right. Have you considered choosing a name?”

If he wanted to be a self-governed android, the idea of freedom must be constant in his mind.

“I did,” he slowly says as though it’s a secret. “Hoseok.”

“It’s a lovely name.”

He offers a gentle smile and you feel for once a bit better.

“Thank you, _______________. I like your name as well.”

 © soraviii/soraviie 2022-2023

[koolades-world]

I’m glad you’re feeling better!! I completely understand trying to finish an assignment when you’re trying to make full sense of it! I myself have done that so many times! Besides, it better to get things you don’t understand out of the way so that he doesn’t come back stronger!

I’m sure even if the fic derailed from your picture in mind it’ll be awesome! I would be really curious of your first draft actually. Also, reading your possible to-do list of fics, I’m really excited for them to come! Of course, please don’t take this as a pressure to work faster, because you’re studying AND keeping up posting regularly, that’s more than what we as your readers ask for, so thank you for feeding us 🙇🏻‍♀️

I’m glad you’re feeling better!! I completely understand trying to finish an assignment when you’re trying to make full sense of it! I myself have done that so many times! Besides, it better to get things you don’t understand out of the way so that he doesn’t come back stronger!

I’m sure even if SS derailed from your picture in mind it’ll be awesome! I would be really curious of your first draft actually. Also, reading your possible to-do list of fics, I’m really excited for them to come! Of course, please don’t take this as a pressure to work faster, because you’re studying AND keeping up posting regularly, that’s more than what we as your readers ask for, so thank you for feeding us 🙇🏻‍♀️

Also, I’ll be waiting for your ao3 account!! I’ll make sure to check it out as quickly as possible <3 and thank you for tagging me in the mbti personality match thingy! I got 93% which I was over the moon for!!! I really thought it would be as low as 20-30% as much as I would’ve loved for it to be higher. I just didn’t think there would be a good chance because I remember once there was a question for the brothers about their type. I know it’s silly to stick to those responses, but I know I’m not the ‘intelligent’ type. It’s really hard to convince myself I am when I look at my grades, even in chem- the subject I claim to love so much. I appreciate art with techniques and various medium artists use, but that’s it. I’m not creative enough to be able to analyse art and literature in a meaningful manner. I admit, it’s all stupid when I say it out loud though. So tdlr: I was genuinely shocked with that high percentage of compatibility with mine (ISFJ) and Satan’s personality type. Honestly though, I am skeptical of the website, because my lowest % was with Solomon- 84%. When I looked up the worst possible matches for ISFJ, ENTP showed up, which is what Sol is… then I calmed myself down remembering that all this is not really a big deal, but a fun little thing to do! (As you can clearly see me overthinking about silly things when I should be using this brain power to get my assignments and papers done XD)

It’s really cool that you’re a biology major!! You have my complete and utter respect for being able to work with it! I love bio, but only when it comes to certain topics, like metabolism, genetics and just molecular biology in general! Then again, my chem bias is definitely showing XD But I do want to get a bachelors in chem! I am just scared of the research and analysis parts, since I have to improve A LOT… Since I am doing IB diploma currently, I attend a course called Theory of Knowledge which explores how and why do we know the things we do. ToK has different catagories- one of them being natural sciences. I was devastated to know what scientists and researchers need to be doing today just to be seen for their work… So my main reason for despising business and corporations did not even matter when people in the science reseach fields have ulterior motives to get ahead too… tdlr: I admire you for being able to research and possibly name the bacteriophage you’re examining!!

Also, it is scary and exciting to be using such expensive equipment!! I mean I always feel extremely nervous when handling these tools!!! Although, up until now I can proudly say I have not ruined any volumetric pipettes (and those automatic pipettes where you can set a voloume and it’ll mainain the same volume everytime you need it! I’ve had the pleasure of using them for my assays so far, and it was both good and scary while it lasted!), burettes, sensors, colourimeters, microscopes, spectrophotometers, and temperature boxes! But my goodness the fear and almost heartattacks I used to feel when using them and when something wasn’t working for a few minutes… but if I want to choose my career path in relation to working in chem labs, I should be getting used to this I suppose… I still have two mini papers to write in bio and chem, so I will have to be using any of those equipment some time in future. I have had a good track record, and I hope to keep it clean XD.

There you go- this is what happens when you excitedly repond to me, I yap more than you! So we got this!! We can get through our semesters!!! (sorry for this being this long though T^T)

HELLOOOO

sorry it took me a hot minute to get back to you! been on my schoolwork grind and all my posts from the past week as been scheduled since like, last Saturday haha.

for a while there I actually contemplated reducing my posting schedule but so far so good! I just get everything done on Saturday and Sunday, and queue it up for the week. sometimes I don’t open tumblr up for a few days at a time because I know I’m all set! i'm actually also setting up my ao3 rn ! finally got that confirmation email and i'm going to transfer all of my oneshots, drabbles, and spellbound secrets over at some point. still trying to understand how it functions tbh

yeah I thought that website was a little sketch too haha. 84 is still pretty high. I think the lowest I got was with Satan? Apparently INTJ and INTJ isn’t a great pairing. On the other hand though, I think I got a 99 with solomon? Something like that. maybe that's why my first fic was about him and not my og babygirl LOL. I also totally understand that feeling you have. In peer leading I am always the slowest and fear the day I have to explain a problem to the group haha. People think I know what I’m doing when I’m reality, I’m literally just as lost! maybe I just look studious haha

using the fancy equipment is lowkey scary, but i still very much enjoy it. in my lab, we only use the volumatic pipettes for now, and honestly, i'm alright with that. easier for me not to mess up haha. one time i thought i broke a serological pipette when really i just forgot to squeeze the little ball at the end to give it the power it needed LOL (I just googled it and only the tips are popping up on google... so maybe that's not what it's actually called and that's just what my professor calls it?? no clue). i just collected the samples that might contain my phage. for fun, i took the dog with me and we ended up having to wade in a disgusting stream to get to where i wanted to sample collect. i could've put her back in the car, but she wanted to stay with me and i would feel bad anyways. had to keep reminding her we were there for science, not for sniffing random spots intensely or barking at bikers minding their business. she does not like water, but she did it for me haha. unfortunately for her, she did have to get a bath after that. i really hope that was worth it, and since it was gross here's to hoping there's actually phage in there

good luck with your papers! i believe in you!! you should've mentioned you were going for IB! girl idk how you're doing that, that seems so brutal. i did cambridge, and while it was rough, it wasn't definitely not nearly as rough as IB. i had friends in IB who seemed so miserable, and it made what i was doing look like fun.

it's alright, we are yappers together <3 chats like this are literally always fun! have a great day and stay beautiful!!!!

[sagecodex]

My Favorite Forum Scripts

The unofficial part two of My Favorite Skin-Building Scripts, this is a collection of scripts that I wish more forums used! Not quite essential for building your forum, but definitely nice to have from an end user perspective. Like the post draft saver, post bookmarks, ctrl+b/i/u, etc.

These are some of my favorites from the resource forums jCodes and Sourced, both of which have a lot more codes available than the ones I pulled out as my favorites. So go check those resource forums out!

Add # of Alerts to Board Title by Cory If you have more than 0 alerts, it adds that number to the browser tab title. Like how Tumblr has the number of new posts on your dash in the title! Great for pressuring me into replies when my ADHD clicks over to Pinterest. Ctrl+B/I/U by Cory  When you hit CTRL+B/I/U it adds the appropriate BBcode. This is on John’s list to make a default feature, but until then this script is incredibly handy and if I ever have to type [b] again I’ll probably kill something.

Fast Reply BBcodes by Kon Adds BBcodes to the fast reply box! This includes custom BBcodes.

Floating Login by Skyon Archer Creates a popup login screen out of the login link. Great if you don’t want to design your own modal.

Form Submission Script by Black Useful for claims (if you’re not using auto-claims) or other forum functions, where you can customize a form for users to fill out. The form will then post as a reply to the topic it’s posted in.

Membergroup Counter by Essi Pulls the number of accounts in a member group from the member list. Great for quick referencing in your board stats. If knowing ratios is your thing.

Post bookmarks by Cory  Similar to tracked topics, but this creates a new bookmarks page, allowing you to add categories and notes about specific bookmarks you make! This is incredibly genius and I WISH more sites would use this!! Helps me save those spicy posts to read again later~

Post Drafts by Cory Saves a copy of the post you’re writing in local storage every 30 seconds. This has saved my ass countless times because my browsers (and their 400 tabs) like to crash. There’s also a manual save version if you don’t like the auto-save.

Post Tags by Cory Lets you add tags to posts so you can easily search the whole forum for posts with the same tags. There’s another version for topic tags, too! Great for tagging ships, tropes, etc. especially on sandbox sites! Note: all tag keywords should be unique and longer than 3 characters.

Recent Topics Anywhere by Essi Adds your recent topics list.........anywhere. lol. Love it for maximum snooping into everyone’s threads, which I do often.

Tagging Username List by Cory When you start typing out a tag with the @ symbol in posts, a list of usernames that start with those characters pops up. Clicking one of them autocompletes the tag. Great for when you forget how to spell every character’s name lol.

User-selectable Avatars by Cory Useful for sandboxes! It allows users to add a selection of custom avatars into a profile field, and then select the one they want to use from a dropdown menu in the posting page.

Remember, adding scripts and plugins can cause your website load time to slow down, especially on older machines or in places with slower internet. So please be mindful about your member base and what you consider most important to your forum experience.

Please note: Be sure to provide credit to the original coders when using anything you have not created yourself. If you’re using these codes in any commissions, please be sure to read the original coders’ terms of service and/or reach out to them before selling their work with your own. And if you like what they’re doing, toss them a few bucks in their tip jars!

[sluttywonwoo]

study buddies || k.mg x reader

Pairing: frat!mingyu x fem reader 

Summary: studying for midterms with the guy you’re hooking up with goes exactly how you’d expect

Warnings: swearing, light smut (18+)

Word Count: 1.6k

a/n: reworked this old blurb originally posted on my tom holland fic account ( @wazzupmrstark ) for my gf’s birthday :)) happy birthday @hotgirlmingyu

Masterlist

You woke up to banging on your apartment door. Groaning, you rolled over to check your phone and saw that it was six am. You pushed yourself up and out of bed and padded into the kitchen to answer the door. You were surprised the relentless knocking hadn’t woken up your roommate, but she was a pretty heavy sleeper.

You yanked the door open to see Mingyu with a handful of textbooks. You squinted at him in confusion, wondering if you were seeing things. Mingyu had never been to your place before, you didn’t even know he knew where you lived.

His appearance startled you a bit. His hair was messy where it was usually slicked back or styled and he was wearing gray sweatpants and a white t-shirt. You didn’t think you’d ever seen him in anything other than khakis and a douchey printed shirt.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, rubbing your eyes.

He frowned. “You said we should study for midterms together.”

You thought back to the last time you’d seen Mingyu. You couldn’t remember saying anything like that.

“Was I drunk?”

“Probably.”

“So why are you here?”

“To study. You agreed that we could help each other out.”

“Mingyu, I don’t even remember agreeing to that.”

“Well I’m already here,” he said and pushed past you into your apartment.

“Seriously? It’s Saturday.”

“Yeah, and midterms are next week.”

“Couldn’t you have waited until the sun was up?” you grumbled, mostly to yourself and shut the door behind him.

“We’ve got a lot of material to cover.”

You cursed under your breath as you watched him set up at your kitchen table, knowing you should probably study even though you desperately wanted to go back to bed.

You and Mingyu had met at a party at his fraternity and woke up the next morning tangled in the sheets of his bed. To say it was awkward would have been an understatement. You didn’t think you’d ever see him again, but to your horror, you saw him in your stats lecture on Monday and your mythology class on Thursday. This was a pretty big university. Why did the same asshole have to be in two of your classes?

As much as it annoyed you, you couldn’t stop thinking about Mingyu, and apparently, he was having a similar dilemma because every time you went out he seemed to be there, and every time you hooked up.

That was the extent of your relationship, though. You didn’t even speak to each other in class or at parties. The only time you talked was behind closed doors when one or both of you was naked. Even then you kept your guard up because you refused to let yourself fall for a frat boy with commitment issues who never wanted to be seen with the same girl twice. A boy who wouldn’t even talk to you in public.

But you couldn’t ignore the way your heart fluttered when he said your name as he was about to cum, or the way his lips felt against yours. He could be a total dick, but you’d also seen a softer side of him that he didn’t show many people. You forced yourself to forget about that side. It was easier that way.

“Okay, what are we starting with?” you asked with a sigh.

“We have the stats exam first, we should work on that.”

You made a face. Statistics was the harder out of the two for you. In fact, it was the hardest class you were taking this semester.

“I can’t believe I’m doing math before seven am.”

“You won’t be complaining when you ace the midterm,” he quipped, already working on a practice worksheet.

You watched him solve problems like he was checking items off a list. You knew he was good at statistics, but you didn’t know he was that good. Figures, a guy like him was good at pretty much everything. Everything except mythology apparently, because once you’d switched to that he was flustered and frustrated. You would quiz him on myths only for him to get every single question wrong.

“Mingyu, did you even read any of these?” you asked, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“Yes, y/n, I read every one. How do you think I passed all the reading quizzes?”

“Cheating?” it slipped out before you could stop it and Mingyu gave you a hard glare. You held up your hands defensively. “Just a joke.”

“I don’t think it was.” He licked his lips. “But for what it’s worth I read them all. I just can’t keep them straight.”

You sighed. You felt bad, but you were getting frustrated too. And not just because Mingyu wasn’t grasping the myths. This was the longest you’d ever spent together (at least while you were awake) and you hadn’t even had sex. He just smelled so nice and looked so cute when he was concentrating that you couldn’t help feeling a little impatient. You had been at it for hours, you thought you would’ve done it at least once by now. But Mingyu was more serious about studying than you thought. It was kind of admirable and kind of annoying.

“Okay well reread through the Egyptian myths and I’ll quiz you again.”

“Alright.”

He pulled out his reading packet and flipped to the section you took out your phone and scrolled through social media mindlessly as he read, but it quickly got boring. You wished Mingyu would take a break so he could rail you. He was still reading intently, but you figured a little distraction couldn’t hurt.

You started by taking your hair down from your bun and shaking it out so that it fell around your shoulders. You knew your shampoo drove Mingyu crazy and hoped it would have an effect on him today. He shifted his seat, but didn’t look up from the packet. Next, you leaned over and rested your head on his shoulder. You’d never done something so domestic like this with Mingyu, but it seemed to work because he cleared his throat and adjusted his sweatpants.

“You know you could be working on math.”

You shrugged. “We already did stats for hours today. I think I’ll jump off a bridge if I look at one more differential equation.”

He fell silent and tried focusing back onto the reading, but you moved your hand to his thigh and kept it there as you continued to through twitter, not even reading what was on your screen.

“Stop that,” Mingyu muttered, making you jump a little.

“Why?”

“Fuck, because you’re distracting me. You look too hot right now.”

“I’m wearing pajamas.”

“I really don’t care. You still look hot and I’m trying not to fuck you senseless right now.”

“Well what’s stopping you?” you asked lowly and nipped at his ear.

“Need to finish this,” he replied through gritted teeth.

“I can’t convince you to take a break?” You moved the hand on his leg up so that you were cupping him over his pants.

He shook his head. “After.”

You leaned over and kissed his neck, then his jaw, and felt him get hard under your hand. “If I have to stop what I’m doing you won’t be able to walk for the next week.”

“That sounds like more of a motivator than a deterrent,” you admitted. “I’ll suck you off,” you offered and hooked your thumb in the waistband of his sweats, trying to bribe him.

“If you let me finish I’ll eat you out,” he countered.

You straightened up. It sounded like a pretty good deal.

“Fine.”

A few minutes passed in silence and you were waiting patiently, typing up a rough draft of an essay you had due for another class when Mingyu groaned.

“What?” you asked, wondering if he needed help.

“Can you please stop that?”

“Stop what? I’m literally doing nothing.” You were genuinely confused now.

“Just- I don’t know you’re making it so hard to concentrate.”

“Am I making it hard?” You smirked.

“Very funny.”

“Would it help if I put a paper bag over my head?”

“Probably.”

“Come on, keep reading about Osiris.”

“I don’t want to read about Osiris anymore, he’s a dick.”

“The faster you finish the faster you can get off.”

“I thought you didn’t want to wait,” Mingyu pointed out, trying to deflect.

“I think I recall something about you going down on me if I let you finish reading.”

“Fine,” he grumbled, but didn’t turn back to the book. Instead, he continued to gaze at you with those big brown eyes. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

“What?” You felt your cheeks get warm.

“I just really want to kiss you right now.”

You smiled and raised your chin, challenging him. “Then do it.”

He leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours. You closed your eyes and kissed him back, savoring the moment.

When you pulled away, Mingyu’s eyes were dark with want and you could see that he was now fully hard in his sweatpants.

“How about I eat you out now anyway?” He suggested, leaning forward to kiss your neck.

You moaned and brought your hands to his hair.

“You trying to bribe me?”

“Is it working?”

“Fuck yeah.”

Mingyu stood and picked you up from your chair. You wrapped your legs around his waist again. He pulled on your bottom lip with his teeth and smirked.

“Promise you’ll finish studying after?” you asked.

He considered it. “Does what we’re about to do count as studying mythology? Because it’s going to be legendary.”

You scrunched up your face in distaste. “No, I take it back. Put me down.”

Mingyu grinned. “Hey! You know no ones gives it to you as good as I do.”

“That confident are you?”

His grin turned into a smirk. “Is that a challenge?”

lmk what you think i always appreciated feedback!!

forever tags: @haven-cove

shoot me an ask to be added/removed from my taglist

[tittyblade]

tumblr etiquette 101

a list that is nowhere near exhaustive, from yours truly.

First off, welcome! Whether you’re a twitter veteran looking for anything but whatever twitter is, or a new user just done signing up, glad to see you in our ranks beloveds! Welcome home. Refer to this quick tour to make sure your fandom experience (or tumblr experience in general) is a positive one!

Disclaimer: I know it’s long, but please try to read or skim through til the end if you’re new here! This is by no means meant to be a rule book (for the most part lol), only a guide to help you get settled easier!

1) Your blog

This is where people will see and interact with you, so put some effort into it!

Try to choose a name (url) that’s simple. You can see it as your brand, it’s how people will perceive you and remember you. If you’d like to interact with other users here (and not use the site just for the content) it’s better to have something short and sweet, preferably without spaces. (Of course, these are only suggestions.) Rest assured, you can change it literally any time you want.

Have a theme. Utilize the tool that lets you edit your blog’s color or the font of your bio! You can make it match your profile picture, or your blog if it has a theme of its own. Make it feel homey :]

Fill in your bio. People will be checking out your profile probably more often than you think. Don’t leave it empty! Put in any information you’re comfortable with sharing and isn’t too personal (like your age if you’re a minor, or other TMI that can be found on other people’s carrds). It’s always better to add a name/nickname people can use to refer to you by, but feel free to use your blog description to shitpost still.

You can have an intro post. More often than not, you’ll see a blog have a pinned post, a post permanently appearing at the top of a blog until you pin another post or unpin it. You can make one of those, if you’d like to introduce yourself in more length, link any other socials or a carrd, and show others visiting your blog how you tag things so it’ll be easy for them to navigate. Not an obligation.

Keep your anonymity and your safety. It should go without saying, but there’s no harm in repeating it just in case. Your comfort, privacy and safety has the utmost importance. Don’t share any information you don’t want to. Don’t share your age if you’re a minor, or any other incredibly personal info. I’d encourage you to go by a nickname that’s not your real name, (blog name, your brand, remember?) since there’s safety in anonymity, and that’s lowkey one of the big deals of tumblr, but that’s up to you still.

Choose what you want to be visible. Your liked posts and who you follow are all things you can set to keep to yourself and hide from the publics eye, how handy! You should go through all the setting while you’re at it, set it to your comfort.

Side blogs are a thing. You can have multiple blogs that you can use for different things (see: different fandoms, art blog, etc) to keep them organized or away from your followers. Just remember that the replies and off-anon asks you send will be from your main blog, as well as where you follow other blogs from.

2) Interacting with others

You’ve set up your account, now comes the fun part!

Follow to your heart’s desire. If you care about others seeing who you follow, fear not! In tumblr, usually only two types of blogs keep their following visible to others: newbies, and big blogs using it to point people on other good blogs’ direction. Just turn it off, and go ham following people.

Customize your dashboard. Gonna mention just two things here: this is another reason why it’s really important that you follow blogs without sparing, your dash will collect dust otherwise; and you should turn off “best stuff first” in your dashboard settings, to have a better community here and all.

Follow tags. You can set it in your settings that posts with your followed tags appear on your dashboard.

You can check the og post for edits and context. When you see a reblogged post you don’t understand the context of (or don’t recognize the character in case of fanarts), click on the profile so it will take you to the original post. From there you can check the original poster’s tags to get the context, or see if there have been any edits made to the post, since when you edit a post it doesn’t update any past reblogs.

Send people asks... This is how you make mutuals, people! Do it off-anon if you’d like them to know your blog, or anon if you’d rather not! (You can still end your messages with a signature to show you’re the same person, -[name] is one example.) Send them nice messages, ask their opinion on something, discuss things, or just straight up shitpost lol. Go wild. The sky’s your limit and it’s definitely more than 280 characters.

...and let them ask you! You can set your preference in the settings, do it on desktop tumblr to access more settings tho! What you can customize on mobile is limited (like letting people ask you things anonymously, that’s only on desktop settings). In my personal opinion, it’s always better to tag their username (or a nickname you give them, if they’re a friend) on that post, since you wouldn’t want your interactions with your friends to get buried in your blog forever.

Comment on posts. If you have something to say but don’t want the post to appear on your blog you can add a comment. The owner of the post will get a notif for it, but for anyone else you need to tag them.

For the love of god, reblog. People will only see your liked posts if you have it visible to public and they specifically go on your blog to look at them. You like something? You reblog. It’s already hard for posts to circulate properly, if you don’t reblog them literally no one will see them. If not for anything do it for the artists. Just hold and drag on mobile to fast rb.

3) Your Posts

Finally here! Don’t be a lurker, post and engage!

Make use of “read more”. If your post is long, add it. That’s what you clicked on earlier to expand this post. On desktop leave an empty line and you’ll see three dots appear, and on mobile type :readmore: on that empty line.

Draft a post to come back to it later. Pretty self explanatory.

Queue your post. Whether it’s your own post or you’re reblogging, make use of the queue feature to a) not spam reblog and fill up the dashboard of people following you and b) keep your blog active while you’re gone. Mess around in the settings, it’s fairly easy to set up.

Schedule your post. Same as queueing, the only difference is you get to choose the exact time your post will go up. Handy if you want to schedule a post for certain dates like april fools, or 5 years in the future for some reason. 

Format your texts. You can do all kinds of fancy stuff here (that’s a link, try pressing on it). Twitter doesn’t have this, make use of it. Changes depending on whether you’re on mobile or desktop. (Desktop has less features.)

Check your stats. If you’re trying to understand the algorithm better or want to look at some pretty graphs you can get your data on that on desktop tumblr.

@ people in comments. You’ll get all the notifs when people comment on your posts but they won’t see your reply unless you tag them in your message.

4) Tags, and tagging a post

This is where my earlier statement “this isn’t a rule book” stops being applicable. It’s not a war crime to go against these, I won’t come chasing you (don’t take my word for this) but you’ll work up a bad rep. Just saying lol.

Do NOT crosstag posts. It’s really tempting to add unrelated tags to increase your posts’ interaction, I know, but that’s not what tumblr is about. Don’t be a dick and make other communities’ experience worse for them.

Always tag your posts with “crit/critical/discourse/etc” if it calls for it. There’s no exceptions to it. This is the reason you see people migrating to tumblr. Let people enjoy things.

Don’t main tag a critical/negative post. If your crit post is about “Thing”, you add the “Thing critical” tag, but not the “Thing” tag. People block crit tags if they don’t want to see it, don’t shove it in their faces by main tagging it. 

If you don’t want to see something, just block it. Another reason why people are able to survive on tumblr. You don’t start discourse, you don’t make call-outs, you block. You can find something for every community you can think of if you go looking for it. The worst of the worst probably won’t ever appear on your dash, but if you’re worried or feel the need for it, you know where the block button is.

Feel free to shitpost or ramble. More often than not you’ll see people rb a post with a comment, and their elaboration will be in the tags. The tags are only visible on your profile and the notifications of the owner of the og blog. Just a thing people do.

Reblog artists’ posts with nice comments in the tags! Commenting on a drawing is usually done through the tags (Not an obligation, again, just a thing people do. Feel free to add your comment on the rb itself if you’d want other people to see it tho!) and leave nice messages for the artists! It’s a win-win for everyone involved. 

If you have more than a single follower, always use the common tw warning tags. You don’t need to tw everything, but tw’ing some common things is the bare minimum human decency. Keep it safe for others. 

Tag a post “long post” if it’s really long. Pretty self explanatory. Don’t make people scroll through all that please lol. 

You can use them to organize your blog. This is more of a pro tip, if you’d like to not miss a post in your blog, cause they will start pilin’ up soon enough.

#Liveblogging is pretty fun. If you’d like to talk to people during streams, don’t forget to add the relevant tags still! Again, you won’t show up on people’s dash otherwise.

Whew! That got out of hand. Hopefully I didn’t bore you too much. Check out blogs like @heritageposts and @hellsite-hall-of-fame to honor our past o7. @mcytblr-hall-of-fame too maybe :eyes:. Anyways, don’t forget the most important rule of them all:

Enjoy your stay! You’re meant to have fun on here while also making friends (if that’s your thing). Just be kind and respectful of others, you’ll get the hang of the rest! <3

[the-iceni-bitch]

Fighting All Night

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x fem!Reader

Words: 2k? Don’t really know, typed this up on mobile

Summary: Ransom officially introduces you to his frat boy friends.

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (unprotected vaginal sex, mentions of pegging), chauvinism, alcohol consumption, SMUT, 18+ ONLY!!!!

A/N: Finally over my writer’s block!!! Ransom will usually do that for me. Only thing was dumblr deleted my first draft of the smutty portion so this is a little later than I originally planned. Will post later with tags since I’m on mobile,

Check out my masterlist and join my taglist if you want!

Ransom watched you toss back a shot of vodka before balancing the drinks for the table on your forearms and heading back to the booth with a determined look on your face. You put on a strained smile as you approached, trying to put on a friendly face as you sat down beside him to listen to his friends drone on about some other rich boy pastime.

“C’mon Ran, we haven’t done a ski weekend in a while! We should go up to Ludlow, hit the slopes!”

“I dunno, Chaz.” He said around a grin, kicking you under the table as you snorted into your drink, again, at the frat boy moniker. “What d’you think, baby? You think you can get the weekend off?”

Dylan and Logan groaned softly and rolled their eyes into their drinks as they watched him grin at you. Who would’ve thought Ransom Drysdale would end up pussy whipped?

“I can maybe come up on Saturday, babe, but you don’t need to wait for me.” You said around your straw, giving him a wink.

“I have the weekend off, Dylan.” Lexi- you were pretty sure that was right- whined at her date, batting her eyelashes and sticking out her lower lip slightly.

“What? Fine, whatever. You guys wanna see some pics of the new boat?”

The poor girl let out a huff and stood up suddenly, pulling her skirt over her thighs as she pouted.

“I’m going to the bathroom. Jessica? Brittney?” The two other girls stood up to join her before Jessica cleared her throat and rolled her eyes towards you. “Oh, Y/N? You coming?”

“Oh, sure!” You said, a little surprised at being included.

“Really? A group bathroom break?” Ransom teased you as you stood up to join the other girls, bending over his to grab your bag.

“Well, if I have to listen to Dylan talk about his boat any more, I’m going to gouge out my own eyeballs.” You murmured at him before following after the girls at your own pace.

“That’s a tight piece of ass, Ran.” Logan teased as all four of them watched you walk away. “Her pussy game must be fucking amazing to have kept you snatched up for this long.”

Ransom felt the muscles in his jaw clench as they started in on him. He had almost forgot what assholes his friends were.

“Aww, lay off Logan. I’m sure our boy is keeping plenty of side pieces.” Chaz- fuck what a stupid name that was- said with a wink as he sipped his beer.

“Don’t really feel the need for side pieces anymore, boys.” Ransom said as he took a swig of scotch, anxious for you to get back. He was struggling to remember why he ever hung out with these idiots.

“Damn, she’s that good huh?” Dylan said with a snort as the other two cracked up. “You gonna share her with the group?”

“She’d eat you alive, asshole.” Ransom hissed at him.

“Oho, don’t tease! I bet that mouth feels amazing. You think she could take all four of us at once?”

Ransom’s grip on his glass turned painful as his knuckles whitened with restraint. The thought of any of these morons touching you was filling him with rage.

You were having your own issues navigating the territory in the bathroom.

“So Logan still hasn’t even cleared out a drawer for me in his place.” Jessica said as she closed the door to the stall, moving to wash her hands. “It’s been 4 months.”

“That’s so rough, honey.” Brittney said sympathetically as she reapplied her lipstick. “Has he at least gone down on you yet?”

You couldn’t stop yourself, you let out an incredulous laugh, causing the three of them to stare at you.

“Wait, seriously?” You asked, noting the serious looks on their faces. “You’ve been together for four months and he hasn’t eaten you out?”

“Oh, I know Ransom Drysdale’s bitch of the week is not feeling sorry for me. You mean to tell me that asshole eats pussy?” Jessica said with a snort.

You felt the right side of your face twitch with irritation. “First off, try bitch of three months. And that asshole calls it his fucking favorite meal.” You said with a roll of your eyes, still annoyed about his goddamn food puns.

“You’re such a liar!” Lexi said with a scandalized laugh.

“Think what you want, but if I had to go through four months of a relationship with any of these idiots without my pussy getting licked once, I’d get out so fast. Tell me he at least makes you cum.”

You turned back to Jessica to see her lower lip wobbling and cursed yourself in your head.

“Oh no, Jess!” Brittney cooed at the poor girl.

“Not even once?!” Lexi said, shocked.

“Maybe a few times, but mostly he just wants head or anal.” Jess said around a sob.

“Oh fuck, your giving him head and anal and he refuses to reciprocate?” You said as you handed her a paper towel to dab at her eyes. “You need to get out sweetie.”

“How do you reciprocate anal?” Britt asked with a confused look on her face.

“Pegging.” You said absentmindedly, your focus still on Jess.

“Wait, you’ve pegged Ransom?!?!” All three of them were giving you a look of awe now as you cursed your big mouth.

“Ummm...”

“I haven’t had a significant orgasm in 3 months, and the new bitch on the block is pegging arguably the biggest asshole of the bunch?” Jessica was almost shouting now, her resigned frustration turning to seething anger.

She stood up suddenly and moved to storm out of the bathroom, but not before you managed to slip in front of her and almost ran back to the booth.

“Hey babe!” Ransom greeted you with a relieved sigh before he had a chance to register your urgency.

“We need to leave.” You hissed at him as you pulled on your coat.

“Thank god.” He muttered, standing up after you and winding his scarf around his neck. “See ya, assholes.” He said to his idiot friends as he dragged his coat over his shoulders.

“Logan!” Jessica yelled as she wobbled back to the table. “You owe me an orgasm!”

“What did you do?” Ransom asked you with a grin as he watched all the blood drain from the moron’s face.

“I haven’t cum in almost four months you son of a bitch!” The other two girls were trying to shush her as she bent over the table to jab her finger into the frat boy’s chest and almost toppled over. “You haven’t eaten me out once, and then I find out that Ransom... Ransom! Apparently his favorite meal is pussy now, did you know that?”

You leaned back against Ransom as you felt his chest rumbling with laughter behind you. You screwed your eyes closed and silently willed the woman to stop talking.

“We can talk about this later baby.��� Logan said, finally gaining some semblance of composure as he stood up to try to wrangle his drunk date.

“Don’t you call me baby, ass wipe.” She hissed at him before pointing at you and Ransom. “He lets her fuck him in the ass, and you won’t even eat my pussy, you dick!”

“What?!?!” It seemed like every eye is the bar turned to you two as you let out a moan and buried your face in Ransom’s chest. “What the fuck did this bitch tell you?”

“Watch it, Logan.” Ransom growled as you whipped around, giving the idiot a venomous glare.

“Oh, fuck off Ran!” Logan yelled as he still struggled to wrangle Jessica. “That pussy must be fucking magic, cause I can’t think of any other reason you’d put up with this cunt.”

You grabbed your drink and threw it in his face at the same time Ran stepped forward and punched him in the mouth, dropping him like a stone.

“What the fuck?” Chaz hissed, standing up so fast he almost knocked the table over.

“You and your bitch better get out of here, Drysdale!” Dylan warned as he moved between you and the slug of a man who was rolling on the floor.

Ransom had to hold you back as he moved to the bar and slapped down cash to pay for your drinks. He shoved you out the door before turning back to his dumbass companions.

“That’s right, assholes. I let her fuck me up the ass and it was fucking amazing! Maybe spend less time on your damn boats and give your poor girlfriends some orgasms, you dicks!”

You were laughing breathlessly as he joined you outside, your breath fogging the air.

“I can’t believe you punched him, baby.” You said as he wrapped his arms around your waist and rested his forehead against yours, slowly pushing you back against the wall.

“I’m the only one who gets to call you a cunt, sweetheart.” He growled against your lips, making you laugh. “And only on special occasions.”

He hooked his hand under your knee and lifted it to wrap around his hips, burying his face in your neck. You moaned in his ear as he started to grind against you, the growing bulge in his jeans rubbing against your clit.

“Fuck, baby.” You moaned as he slipped a hand between the two of you, teasing his fingers through your slick folds, his mouth moving down the line of your jaw to your neck.

“Don’t you ever wear underwear?” He teased as his teeth ran over your throat, his hands fumbling with the fly of his jeans.

“Do you really want me to... fuck!” You wrapped your fingers in his hair painfully as he speared into you easily, sheathing himself to the hilt in one quick motion.

“Guess I can’t really complain about easy access to this pussy.” He teased against your shoulder as he started moving his hips at a languid pace, grinding against you each time his hips met yours. “Remind me whose pussy this is baby?”

“Fuck off, Hugh.” You purred into his ear before sucking his lobe between your lips. Your whine devolved into a yelp when he ripped open your blouse and bent his head to roll your nipple between his teeth through the lace of your bra.

“She sure seems to know who she belongs to. Squeezing me so good.” He drew himself out halfway, dragging his dick against your g-spot before slamming into you again and making you whimper as the tip of his cock nudged against your cervix. “If you say it, I’ll fuck you like you deserve.” He emphasized his request by grinding against your clit.

“Shit, it’s yours.” You murmured, your fingers digging into the back of his neck as he started fucking into you harshly. It only took a few thrusts before you were falling apart, your pussy fluttering around him as you let out a sob and your release seeped out around his cock.

“Oh, what a good girl.” He muttered against your chest as his hands kept you from collapsing, hooking under your knees to wrap them around his hips.

“Shut up and fuck me.” You hissed as he moved one hand from your hips to press your chest to his face, laving his tongue over your nipple and making you keen.

His hips set a punishing pace, driving into you violently and dragging his cock over your g-spot with each drive. You leaned your head back against the brick wall and screwed your eyes shut as you felt the coil in your abdomen tightening again.

He retracted his lips and rolled your sensitive bud between his teeth and you lost it. Your fingers dug painfully into his shoulders as you swallowed a shriek, your cunt clamping down on him as your torso rolled against his.

“God, you feel so fucking good.” Ransom muttered against your skin as his mouth moved up the column of your neck. “I’m gonna give you one more, the I’m gonna fill you up.”

“Mmm, give it to me.” You murmured as he moved his hands to wrap around your waist and leaned back to give himself more leverage.

“Yeah, you want my cum pretty girl?” He asked around a grin as he watched your face contort in bliss, your hands gripping his hair painfully as he did his best to draw another one out of you.

“Shit, yes. I’m so fucking close.” You whined as his hips slapped against yours. He moved one hand between the two of you and started to strum at your clit.

“Fuck, say my name.” He growled before pressing his thumb into you one more time, his cock twitching inside you as his own end loomed.

You screamed it as your body went rigid for a beat before spasming uncontrollably around him, your release flowing out of you and soaking the front of his jeans. He was right behind you, his breath coming out in a hiss as his spend coated your slick walls, warming you from the inside.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N.” He muttered as you started to untangle yourself from him, straightening your wobbly legs. “I knew bringing you here was a good idea.”

You beamed at him as you tugged your skirt down over your hips, squeezing your thighs together to keep his cum from leaking down the inside of your legs.

“Are you really gonna make me spend a whole weekend with those assholes?” You teased as you watched him tuck himself back into his jeans.

“Aww, c’mon baby.” He said, burying his face in your hair and wrapping an arm around your waist as he guided you back to the beemer. “I’ll let you bring the strap on.”

[doublerainebow]

Artist Resources (Part 1?)

This is basically just going to be a bunch of resources I have found to be useful. I can’t say that I’ve used all of them, but I’m sure they’re all worth checking out.

I’m also gonna try to put a detailed description for most of the links so you have a better idea of what you’re getting. I apologize in advance if some of them are redundant lol

(I put “Part 1″ if in the case I make another one)

~Links to Tutorials, Tips, Resources, etc~

Another Resource List -- Leads to another Tumblr post. Apparently, the post isn’t mobile-friendly, so it’s suggested to view this on Tumblr browser. Has a bunch of other links. I’ve checked out a few of them (mainly the copyright stuff lol), and it seems that some of the links may be a bit outdated. Still, it doesn’t hurt to check out the links.

Arms and Legs -- Leads to another Tumblr post. A handy tutorial on elbow and knee placement.

Art & Game Dev -- This leads to my personal playlist of a bunch of YouTube videos. Has a bunch of tutorials and interesting videos that I’ve collected over the course of a few years lol.

Blamblot -- A website that contains resources and tutorials on comic lettering. This is primarily in reference to western comics, but it doesn’t help to take a looksie.

Commission Calculator -- Leads to another Tumblr post. Helps artists to stop selling themselves short.

Comparing Heights (hikaku-sitatter) -- A height comparer for centimeters.

Comparing Heights -- A height comparer for feet and inches.

Mouth Shapes and Lip-Syncing -- Leads to another Tumblr post. Useful for... drawing mouth shapes.

Reference Angle -- Useful for when you’re trying to map out a face from an odd angle.

Soft Proofing for Printing -- Leads to another Tumblr post. Helps when you’re trying to make prints of your artwork.

Textures -- A website full of different and mostly free textures. While this website is made for 3D texturing, it can also be useful for 2D drawings. Signing up gives you 15 free credits everyday, and you can use those credits to download some textures for free.

The Models Resource -- A website of models ripped from a wide array of games.

The Spriters Resource -- A website of sprites ripped from a wide array of games.

The Textures Resource -- A websites of textures ripped from a wide array of games. 

~Links to Stock Images~

Please check out whatever policies they may have for their images before using them!

(not sure if any of them are active anymore as I followed some of these accounts a long time ago when I used to be more active on Deviant Art lol)

adorkastock (formerly senshistock)

anatoref -- Leads to another Tumblr post. Has a bunch of hand photo references

charligal-stock

HumanAnatomy4Artist -- Does contain nudity

null-entity

PhelanDavion

RobynRose

~Links to Other Artists~

Akihito Yoshitomi -- Yoshitomi is a mangaka who has tutorials on manga making. He also has an insightful series in which he drafts and draws a 30-page manga in 18 days. Remember that every artist works differently and his process may be different from another’s.

Drawfee -- Drawfee is an improv drawing show of four artists: Nathan Yaffe, Jacob Andrews, Julia Lepetit, and Karina Farek. While they don’t have tutorials in a sense, their videos explain the different processes they go through as they draw. They also occasionally provide tips, tricks, and resources in their videos. They do have another channel and a Twitch channel where they host drawing classes in addition to other fun shenanigans.

EtheringtonBrothers -- Has a bunch of useful and eye-catching tutorials called “How to Think When You Draw”.

Mark Crilley -- Mark is a comic artist, specializing in manga, who has a bunch of tutorials about anatomy, perspective, comic making, and other things.

Miyuli -- Miyuli is an artist who posts tutorials on their Twitter. Their tutorials range from anatomy to clothing to other things. They even have a few books of art tips. Currently (as of the time of posting this), their 2018 version is free for download, so I highly recommend you download that. Some tips may be outdated, but they should still be helpful.

Whyt Manga (Twitter/YouTube) -- Odunze is a comic artist, specializing in manga, that has a bunch of tutorials on manga making and drawing characters of color.

~Links to Free Programs~

Blender -- A free 3D program if you’re into 3D modeling and such. I also personally haven’t used Blender (I use Maya lol), but I know it’s a respectable program.

Krita -- A free painting program if you can’t afford Photoshop or Clip Studio Paint. I personally haven’t used Krita, but I have recommended it to a few friends and they have positive reviews about it.

Paint Tool SAI -- Okay, this one isn’t free, but it’s a significantly cheaper painting program where you don’t have to pay a subscription. It’s 5,500JPY (~50 USD). I’m not sure how well it still works on modern computers (the last update was 2016), but I still use it here and there because I love the pen tool feature it has, and it still works like a charm for me.

~General Tips From Raine~

Raine admits that she’s guilty of not following her own advice, but Raine hopes that the tips that she does know will be beneficial to someone who will follow them. She’s also going to keep all her tips under the cut so as to not make this post a huge wall of text (even though it technically already is lol)

Also, if you have some resources, tutorials, tips yourself, please feel free to send them to me and maybe I’ll make a part 2 to this post!

ALWAYS LOOK FOR REFERENCE. This should really go without saying. You can’t draw from life if you refuse to observe life itself.

If you can’t find the exact thing you need, MAKE YOUR OWN REFERENCE. Time and time again, I can’t find something exactly that I need. So instead, what I do is that I take pictures of my own reference. Sometimes I even grab a friend and take pictures of them doing whatever it is I need.

Have a mirror handy when you’re drawing. Sometimes what you need is actually right there in front of you.

Having trouble drawing something? Do some studies. Take the time to understand what it is you’re drawing. I can’t remember the exact story, but I heard that the people who were working on Tarzan were having a hard time drawing his hands. So, what they did was spend a few hours looking at hands to try and understand how they work.

IT’S OKAY TO STUDY THE ART OF OTHER ARTISTS. Just as we look to the old masters as a reference, it’s definitely okay to look at modern-day artists for reference. Just don’t go copying exactly everything that they do, or worse, trace what they do. Just don’t do it... at all.

Not every line needs to be realized. The viewer of your work will automatically connect the dots.

DO NOT TRASH YOUR OLD DRAWINGS. Please, never ever do this. Your old drawings have value to them, even if they look terrible to you. Old drawings may hold ideas for things you could do for the future. They also serve as a way to see how far you’ve come as an artist.

GETTING BETTER AT DRAWING TAKES TIME AND EFFORT. You’re not gonna get better overnight. It’ll take months, or even years, to feel like you’re a competent artist, and even then, you’ll still have room for improvement.

DON’T LOOK DOWN ON YOURSELF IF YOU’RE TAKING A LONG TIME TO GET BETTER. It’ll be better for your mental health in the long run.

Alternatively, DON'T LOOK DOWN ON OTHER ARTISTS EITHER, ESPECIALLY TO MAKE YOURSELF FEEL BETTER. You know the struggles it took for you to get where you are, so don’t go putting down other people when you’ve been in their shoes once.

KEEP DRAWING. If you’re not making an effort to get better, then you’re not going to be better. I get that it’s hard to find the inspiration to draw (I’m very guilty of this), but just keep trying. It doesn’t have to be big or spectacular. You don’t even have to post it if you’re the type who likes to post their art stuff.

Try to find references from real-life. It’ll help you better understand form, lighting, shadows, etc., especially if you’re going for a more realistic kind of art style. Otherwise, finding reference from things like cartoons, anime, comics, etc. are just as good.

Try new things. Try new art mediums. Try a different art style. Switch up the way you do things. Maybe you’ll hate it, maybe you’ll like it. Who knows if you don’t try.

Watch time-lapses (or speed draws/speed paints) of other artists!

Pinterest and Google are your friends if you need tutorials or references or whatever.

If you’re offering commissions, DO NOT WORK UNDER YOUR LOCAL MINIMUM WAGE. You are literally devaluing the work you actually put into a piece.

I like to think I’m an aficionado of Photoshop, so feel free to ask me questions on how to achieve something! I’ve used Photoshop for about 11 years now and know my way around the program. On another note, I do recommend setting custom keyboard shortcuts in Photoshop because the default shortcuts are terrible (in my opinion), and because having custom shortcuts increases the speed of your workflow.

Because I’ve been seeing this a lot lately in Twitter, you’re never too old to start in art. Art is just one of those things that anyone can pick up at any age because the only thing you really need to get good in art is time, diligence, and patience.

Try not to post hi-res images of your artwork to prevent art stealers from selling your artwork in high resolution.

Always, always, always add your signature and watermark on your artwork. I like to add my signatures and watermarks in places that’ll be hard to erase or crop out. I’ve also seen people add their signatures and watermarks in creative ways (ex. on a character’s shirt). You need to protect your work in an era where people will just blatantly steal it and make profit off your work.

Tag List

@reality-is-often-disappointing

[bucksblr]

#showyourprocess

From planning to posting, share your process for making creative content!

To continue supporting content makers, this tag game is meant to show the entire process of making creative content: this can be for any creation.

RULES — When your work is tagged, show the process of its creation from planning to posting, then tag 5 people with a specific link to one of their creative works you’d like to see the process of. Use the tag #showyourprocess so we can find yours!

Thank you so much for tagging me @lan-xichens​, I’ll try my best to explain how I made this set from start to finish hehe ♡ and also a big thank you to @suibianjie​ @highwarlockkareena​ @nyx4​ @aheartfullofjolllly​ and you as well Kris for putting this all together! Content creators get a lot less recognition than they deserve for all the time they put into their content, so getting everyone to see the (sometimes excessive) process we all go through to put our content in our blog, I hope it creates a positive change!! 💖

1. Planning

The set in question was actually requested by someone so they could celebrate their friend’s birthday! At first I wasn’t entirely sure if I was going to be able to finish it on time (college is very hectic right now) but I was able to finish it three days before the deadline which was may 1st! ^-^

The first thing I did was decide what characters I wanted to use in the set, I first reached out to the person who requested the set if there were certain characters they wanted me to use but they said they didn’t know enough to really give me any directives outside of the quote. I decided, since the quote is applicable to the entirety of the show, that I would try to put in as many characters as possible.

Thus, of course, came the hunting for scenes. Those of you in the net discord surely know I came into the content help channel a few times to ask for certain scenes here and there, and eventually I had to download an additional 10 episodes to the back then 20 or so episodes I had in my CQL episodes folder.

As you can see I have 30 random episodes of CQL downloaded (slowly but surely getting to the point where I have all 50 episodes downloaded) and I think I ended up using scenes out of at least 20 of those episodes.

I planned out beforehand what characters I would use per gif. I knew obviously I would start out with Wangxian, them being the main characters of the show, and then would work my way down the list. The second gif consists of Nie Huaisang, Nie Mingjue, Jin Zixuan, Jiang Yanli, Wen Qing, and Wen Ning. They’re all family pairings, two being siblings and one being a married couple. The next gifset consists of the Yi City characters, then the fourth gif consists of the juniors, and the final gif has Jin Guangyao, Mianmian, Jiang Cheng, and Lan Xichen in it.

I have to admit though that when I had made the first four gifs I’d forgotten who I would put in the last gif and the when I thought about it the first time around I could only think of Lan Qiren and the very cursed Yaoyang ship 😭 it was only at dinner time that same day that I remembered I hadn’t put Jiang Cheng in my gifset yet and that’s when I thought of the other characters as well.

I had already made my first two gifs when I went to check Hanyi’s blog for layout inspo and eventually I decided I wanted to try a triangle-ish layout, which I doodled below. I eventually ended up changing the layout of the last gif in the final design. It was also the first time I would work with a triangle-ish layout so I was a bit nervous as I was scared it wasn’t going to work out...

2. Creating

I use Avisynth 2.5 and Adobe Photoshop 2021 (the paid version, unfortunately, I need it for school except I didn’t need it this year but I wanted it so I paid for it with my own money ouch) to make my gifsets! I always start out with trimming down all the scenes I’m going to use into three to five second videos and putting them through Avisynth. This time around I did it separately for each gif I made, simply because I needed so many scenes. I would include a screenshot of my “gif vids” and “temp” folders but I’ve already deleted all the videos, which is what I usually do immediately after a set is posted.

I’ll try my best explaining this gif by gif since each one had a different layout!

2.1 Wangxian

I think I had up to five different designs of this gif 😭 it started out with the gif on the left originally being more centered and the quote right smack in the center but somehow it felt a bit too... empty? I changed up the design and pulled the gif over to the right and put the two closeups on the left, the exact opposite of the gif I eventually ended up with. I switched things around one more time and saved the gif as you can see it right now, except I didn’t include the lines yet. It was only as I finished up my fourth gif that I decided this gif needed lines as well so I added them ^-^

2.2 Nie Huaisang, Nie Mingjue, Jin Zixuan, Jiang Yanli, Wen Qing, and Wen Ning

I got the inspiration for the font layout on this gif from this Wenzhou post! I hadn’t tried it before and when I did for this gif I was very happy with the way it turned out :D I wanted to portray that life is a pile of good and bad things, as the quote says, in CQL by mirroring these happy scenes side by side with the sad scenes

2.3 Yi CIty

My first time working with the triangle layout!! Putting in the lines and making sure they would line up with the second gif took me the longest of all actually  😭 I think once I got the line on the left in I just copy pasted it and flipped it horizontally so I didn’t have to fiddle around with angling it anymore :’) my original idea was to get a happy Song Lan scene and a sad A-Qing scene, but when I stumbled upon this A-Qing scene in ep38 I just had to put it in there because her smile is so precious 🥺 Xue Yang and Xiao Xingchen in the center are also supposed to be mirrored, with Xue Yang embodying the “bad things” and Xiao Xingchen the “good things” ! I also think the Yi City characters fit this part of the quote very well!!

2.4 The Juniors

Ah yes, the junior quartet!! :D I had this planned out from the very beginning, that I would include happy versus sad juniors in the “vice versa” part of the quote, and I think it worked out quite well! My first idea was to put the “vice versa” completely in the special font and have it typed out over the gifs like I did with the “vice” but as I typed out the “versa” I realized it had one letter too much to be able to do that 😭😭 it took me a while to come up with how I would position the “but” and “versa” and after some moving around I decided to just place them the way I did in the final gif! For the font, I duplicated the “vice” and added a stroke to the duplicate, then I changed the fill setting to 0% so I could slightly drag the duplicate away from the original layer to create the effect that’s in the gif — also, finding a scene in which Jin Ling smiles is really difficult.... he barely even smiles in the scene I ended up using :(

2.5 Jin Guangyao, Mianmian, Jiang Cheng, and Lan Xichen

The final gif!! I feel like this might come a little across as “I promise I didn’t forget these characters” because they’re a very odd quadruplet to put together, but they were the most important characters left to put in the set! I was thinking of putting Nie Mingjue in here together with Jin Guangyao and Lan Xichen, but I did feel he fit more with his brother up in the second gif. Mei @mylastbraincql​ cheered me on making this gif for which I was very grateful :D <3 the layout came to be after I googled “how to evenly split a rectangle in four” because I didn’t want a repeat layout in the set  (*/∇＼*)

2.6 Coloring

For the coloring I pretty much did all of the tweaking on the first gif and then copy pasted all of it onto the second, third, fourth, and fifth gif. This is usually the way I go about my coloring, I will always edit certain gifs if necessary but I don’t think I had to change the coloring much on any of these gifs? Maybe I added in a curve layer here and there, but nothing major! This is really one of my preferred coloring styles, even though I try to step outside of my comfort zones with other sets ^-^

3. Posting

I will always upload sets into my drafts and edit the caption in there as well, clicking on “preview post” a couple times to check everything looks good on my blog as well, before I post a set. However, this time, since there was a deadline and I finished before the deadline, I put this set in the queue so it would automatically post on the 1st of may! Knowing myself, I would’ve forgotten to do so </3

Whew that was... a lot 😭 did it make any sense? Probably not, but it was fun to ramble （ ´∀｀）

I’ll tag

@blinkplnk​ with this set !

@wuxien​ with this set !

@wendashanren​ with this set !

@wanyinxichen​ with this set !

@yibobibo​ with this set !

@mylastbraincql​ with this set !

@sugarbabywenkexing​ with this set !

@yiling-recesses​ with this set !

@jiancheng​ with this set !

Please feel totally free to ignore this if you’ve already been tagged and don’t want to do it again!! <3

[unnuevosoltransformalarealidad]

Excuses

Summary: You wanted to make dinner for you and your boyfriend Clark, but he gets too worried when he is called in the middle of an important meeting. Pairing: Clark Kent x Reader Prompts: Square filled > I'll take any excuse to get out of this meeting for @anyfandomgoesbingo  / Square filled > Established Relationship for @girl-next-door-writes Make Me Feel Bingo Warnings: Established relationship, overprotective boyfriend, fluff, injury, blood, concussion, hospital, Emergency Word Count: 1450

^

You've just gotten back from an interview and you needed to start writing it down. You were in a bad mood because your boss told you that you needed to finish that draft by the end of the day and if you couldn’t you needed to stay until it was done. You did the first draft, you reviewed it and did a second one just in case. When you were starting to review again the first one, your head started to ache. You remember that you haven’t got a good cup of coffee, you decided that it was the perfect time for your daily dose, you knew that it was going to help.

When you got back from the kitchen, you had a message on your chat. You weren't in the mood for anything, who was bothering you? you thought. It was Clark, a small smile appeared on your face CK: Are you ok? YN: Yeah, I went to grab some coffee. Why? CK: While you are doing your drafts? That's not common on you YN: I'm fine, don't worry CK: Let me know if you need anything You just read the message and stopped answering. You went back to writing or trying to write your draft. Every once in a while you had to stop looking at the computer because you got dizzy. Clark, who was a few feet away from your desk sent you a text CK: What’s wrong? You looked at the notification and looked up looking for him, once your eyes locked you smiled and assured him you were good. Clark and you had planned on going on a date after leaving work, but he canceled because he had an important meeting at the last minute and you both knew it was going to be a long one. You were finishing the draft you needed to hand in when you got a text message CK: I’ll take any excuse to get out of this meeting. Love u You looked up and noticed he was heading to the conference room with a bunch of other people. You knew it was one of those important meetings that lasted like 5 hours. You gave Clark a small smile and got back to your computer. You finished your first draft right on time, you send it to your superior, and started to gathered your things.  You were ready to leave and Clark was still inside the conference room. Before leaving, you grabbed your post-its and a pen and scribbled something down “Come to my place when you finish. Don’t worry about the time. Love You xYN.” You attached it to his monitor and left the office directly at home.

Once you were in your apartment and changed into something more comfortable, you texted Clark to let him know you arrived safely. After getting comfortable at home, you started to get dinner done for you and Clark. You wanted to do something simple and fast, maybe some pasta, nothing that takes too much time cooking. There was a special bowl you wanted to use to put the pasta you’d cooked, but Clark put it on a top shelf and you couldn’t reach it. You couldn’t remember where the ladder was, so you climbed the kitchen counter to grabbed the bowl, but it was still out of reach just for a few inches, so you tiptoed and when you almost had it, you misstepped the counter falling backward with the bowl, getting shattered with the fall, and cutting yourself in the process. You felt a sharp pain in your head and seeing the amount of blood that was coming from your cuts you were getting light-headed.

Thankfully one of your neighbors heard you falling and called to the emergency. In a matter of minutes, paramedics were getting into your apartment and taking you to the ER. In there, your injuries were treated. The doctors ran several tests on you to check if everything was alright. Once you were settled in your room, a nurse came to check up on you. -Hi sweetie, how are you feeling? -I’ve been better, but overall I’m good -We tried to call your emergency contact but we couldn’t reach it. Do you have other numbers where we can contact them? — she asked That’s when you remember, Clark was at a meeting and he mutes his phone so no one interrupts him -Yes, let me jot it down — you said and the nurse handed you a notepad

*Clark’s POV*

You didn’t know how much longer this was going to be this meeting. You’ve been there for the past two hours. Y/N was probably gone and you wanted to take her on a date. As in every important meeting, your phone was silenced to avoid any type of distraction or interruption. Your boss was mentioning something about the media when all of you heard the sound of a ringing phone in the other office. You all looked at each other expecting to see who was the phone ringing. Then, the phone that was inside of the meeting ringed -Yes? — your boss answered -Sorry to interrupt sir, but this call is rather important — Silence, so the assistant continued talking— The call is for Clark Kent, sir. It’s from the Metropolis‘ Hospital -What? — you said -Go, take the call and leave — your boss said -Thank you, sir — you said and went to your desk. You grabbed the phone and answered -Clark Kent here — you were shaking, you didn’t know what to expect -Hi Mr. Kent, I’m talking from the Metropolis’ Hospital, you’re listed as the emergency contact of Y/N Y/L/N -Yes, I am. Is everything alright? -She was admitted 45 minutes ago, she had an accident at home but she is fine. Can you come over so the doctor can explain everything to you? -Yes, of course, I’ll be there in a bit — you said -Thank you, sir. Goodbye The nurse hung up and you released a breath you didn’t know you were holding. She said you had an accident at home and you were fine, but what happened? You grabbed your things and went directly to the hospital.

When you got there, you went to the nurse station -I got a call not long ago, my girlfriend Y/N Y/L/N was admitted -Yes, come with me. I’ll take you to her room and I’ll let the doctor know you’re here The walk from the nurse station to Y/N’s room was scary, you didn’t know what had happened to her or in what condition she was. The doctor was just leaving her room when he spotted you with the nurse -Doctor, he is Y/N’s emergency contact — the nurse said and went inside her room The doctor stretched his hand, you doing the same thing. -How is she? — you asked, the doctor could sense your fear -She is fine. She has a small concussion, she also has a large cut on her arm and a badly sprained ankle. She must take it easy for the following weeks -Ok, doc, thank you so much. -She has to be under supervision for the following 24 hours. She might develop symptoms due to the concussion -Ok doc — you nodded — Thanks again The doctor shook your hand and left you alone. You stood there waiting for the nurse to leave the room

*Y/N’s POV*

The nurse told you that Clark was outside talking with the doctor probably giving him instructions to take care of you. -When will I leave? — you asked her -Once I finish with you, I’ll go talk with your doctor, and then I’ll let you know, okay? Now, try to get some rest — She said and left the room Clark entered when the nurse left -Hey baby — he said coming closer -I’m sorry -Don’t be sugar, how are you feeling? — he grabbed your uninjured hand -I’ll be fine — you said feeling guilty You explained to Clark how the accident happened and that one of your neighbors called to the Emergency. Then, the nurse came and told you that you were able to go only if Clark was taking care of you and with the promise if any of your symptoms got worse. He promised it and fill the papers to take you home. Back in his place, he called your bosses and they gave both of you a week off. He ordered some take-out and help you settled down making sure you were as comfortable as possible. Clark was the best boyfriend you could ever have.

Tag List (Open, just ask)

@iguessweallcrazyithinktho | @mrspeacem1nusone | @thevelvetseries | @bitchy-witchy-post-mortem | @caplanbuckybarnes 

[shadowdianne]

Fic writer review [Or a fic writer tag game if you prefer]

I was tagged by @naralanis and I can already see her grin all the way from where I am xd Thank you, dear, for the tag, let’s see what are my answers, shall we.

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

*bursts out laughing* Adding both pseuds I have… 535 according to the account info but by counting them all I’m reaching 541 so I’m guessing it’s counting some drafts I need to re-find.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

I seriously hated you for this one xd I was going to do it by hand by I decided one-third there that I value my mental stability a little bit more xd according to the stats page back at a03 that number would be 1257884. It may be wrong. I think there should be a few more numbers up there but the majority of my works are one-shots so *shrugs* There’s also the fact that counting my ao3 things only is shaving off like half of it Xd Anyway, can we laugh at the fact that I’m a pain in the ass and that I’ve written a lot? More than I should have, that’s for sure

3. How many fandoms have you written for?

Trick question because I haven’t crossposted everything I wrote back in ffnet and I actually erased some fics from my account back there so the numbers are a little blurry there.

When I had the entirety of my work posted both in ffnet and a03 I had written for: Twilight (Bella/Alice) Glee (Faberry and there were a couple Pezberry and I don’t fucking remember the pairing name for Santana and Quinn), Harry Potter (Hermione/Ginny, Hermione/Narcissa, Hermione/Bellatrix) OUAT (SwanQueen and several oneshots focusing on the mad hatter and the blue fairy solely back at ffnet that were written in Spanish and never translated), I actually had a veeeery old au prompt of Frozen (Elsanna in where I wrote them as non sibilings), Rizzoli and Isles (Rizzles), Dishonored 2 (Emily Kaldwin/Alexi Mayhew), Lara Croft and Wonder Woman, Supergirl (SuperCorp/Supercat) I had a 100 one -or maybe two??- (Clexa), The Shannara Chronicles (Amberle/Eretreia [Or Princess Rover], Rwby [Blake Belladona/Yang], The Worst Witch (Hecate Hardbroom and Pippa Pentangle), The Half of it, Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (Madam Satan/Zelda Spellman) and… I think that’s it(?) I may be forgetting some but probably nothing important if I’m not remembering it lol.

4. Top 5 fics by kudos?

Ah, we are going to go there, uh? Xd My works are not the kudos and comment getting type Xd So I was quite surprised when I went to check this.

1: Cracked it I wrote this one back in 2017, it was a prompt done by an anon: Lena is nerding with one of her projects at home, mumbling mostly to herself because she’s stuck and Kara casually mentions how to solve the problem like it’s nothing. I really had some fun with this. It was back when some us, SQeeners were fully doing the jump between OUAT and SuperGirl (I mean, there had already been some crossover as for fandom is related but this when the girls were actually getting their conjoined voice within the fandom)

2: Dateless I honestly needed to check what this one was about but I think I can see why this one shot has the amount of kudos it has. It’s a short and sweet idea and responds to the Teachers Au that went SO well with SQ. Everyone thinks they hate each other and try to set them up with other people whilst they, in truth, are dating. I don’t remember if I wrote them as married rather than dating but despite being from 2017 as well is one cheeky enough to be cool Xd I probably would edit some lines now *shudders*

3: After you I truly didn’t expect this one to be top 3. Makes me think of a lot of things, if I’m being honest Xd. After you was a one shot written almost feverishly as an answer to the fabulous drawings that Sejic did of both Lara Croft and Wonder Woman back at 2018 or something. It’s just Lara and Diana being himbos but not at all with each other.

4: How about… How about is one I remember perfectly, it was my answer to the ending of the Half of it film. I had SOME thoughts about it, let’s just stop there Xd I really liked the film itself but I think and I thought at the time that my response to wishing for a final scene at the very end of the credits responds to me being in a different personal moment than the characters. I really wanted to explore my feelings about it and so I wrote about them finding each other again after some time passes. It was also something I wrote after quite the hiatus so I took it as something I could write about without focusing too much on the why.

5: Come to me

Ahh, SuperCorp Xd I remember this one actually. A friend of mine and I were talking about descriptions, and she mentioned quite off-handedly how she wanted a fic in where Kara’s back was described. I complied… more or less.

Fun tidbit, despite the big volume of my work is obviously set in ouat there’s only 1 SQ fic there as you can see, the others are either SuperCorp or the random one shots I created for Wonderwoman/Lara Croft and The half of it. *sighs in deep thought* I’m also not going to look too much into how almost all of the fics were posted and written back in 2017. Nope, not at all.

*Small voice screaming you peaked in 2017 and everything else is garbage jumps back and forth*

5. Do you respond to comments? Why/why not?

I tend to always respond, yup. I truly value comments. I might have gone for spells of time in where I didn’t have the mental capacity to check in old fics because I truly didn’t know what to answer but I treasure every single comment and you all who comment know that I can start to ramble in the answers xd -sorry about that- I really really REALLY love interaction.

6. A fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending:

Ok, Nara, come on, this one is a catch for me. I’ve written angst in far too many fics to remember the angstiest one :P I have the most recent one, though, that is the easy one to think about: Goodbye.Written for @delirious-comfort. I’m just going to say “Kisses with their last dying breath” as an idea of what awaits inside but I’ve written about death and loss and angst quite a lot. There were some I wrote back to SQ with Regina needing to kill Emma during the Dark Swan arc that, to this day, I still love and some others in where Regina is the one that dies, again and again, trapped by magic while Emma watches. I have the loss in mental destruction form and… I REALLY like my angst y’know xd

7. Do you write crossovers?

Not counting Lara and Wonder Woman not really! I think it comes from the fact that I loooove worldbuilding as a whole and some pairings would require all my focus into making the world perfect which in turn would make me self conscious on the OOCness of it all.

8. Ever received hate on a fic?

*snorts* I’ve received hate due to the pairing I’ve written about, how I’ve written about it, the amount I’ve written, how slow or quick I can be, the usage of some tropes, the lack of usage of those same tropes… Let’s just go with: yuuuup.

9. Do you write smut?

I’ve written smut, yeah! But I can already see the pointed looks of some so let’s elaborate Xd I write smut when asked and sometimes when not asked but there’s a part of me I like to call a terrible tease that prefers writing the beginning of a scene, taunt it, focus on what happens before the sex scene per se as I find it more enjoyable to write. The process of escalation is always the best for me to see what can I do it by using both dialogue and descriptors tbh, so I tend to tease more than show.

9. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

A few weeks ago I’d have said: Maybe(?) But trying to follow the trail of some other fics that had been stolen from some friends -I think it was me trying to find more about the page that stole something from your Nara!- I found some pages in where my fics had been reposted. In some it was stated that the person posting the fic wasn’t the author but I had never been contacted in order to see if I’d say yes to such a thing and in some others the page was locked up but I could still see someone was pretending to be the author. I did the thing and got some of those down.

Pointed note: Ask me if you want to post or translate or anything. I will look into you and answer you if you seem honest about the thing. But despite every joke and self-deprecating comment those 500 and then some fics represent MY time so very kindly I say fuck off to those who wish to steal from me and if I catch you… you don’t really want to see me angry, trust me.

10. Ever had a fic translated?

I’ve given permission to some, yeah, but never heard it back from them so I’m guessing it didn’t stick.

12. Have you ever co-written a fic?

I’ve written series alongside other authors as @stregaomega for example. And some others that are unpublished -looking at you @carsonnieve - I’ve also done collabs… but fics co-written in the sense of two authors same chapters I don’t have anything posted I’m afraid :P

13. All-time favourite ship?

*snorts*, I guess the obvious answer is SQ uh? And I do think they were the ones that allowed me to read and write SO much. The one I feel more strongly about, however, is Bering and Wells from Warehouse 13.

14. WIP you want to finish, but don’t think you ever will?

All of them counts as a valid answer? But if I only could finish one that would be Arcadia. With A forgotten Promise second and the one I did as an Assassins Creed AU third. (I don’t remember the name so there’s no link, sorry xd)

15. Writing strengths?

Uhhhh, you REALLY want me to say that? I don’t fucking know!! To me everything I write is garbage. I always try to go for the feelings so I guess. Dunno xd I’ve been told I’m good at worldbuilding and to be honest is what I enjoy the most.

16. Writing weaknesses?

Everything Xd Pacing? What I hate the most sometimes is dialogue, I would count it as a weakness but I’m always far too focused on description rather than dialogue. I don’t think it’s a bad thing per se but it’s something that I don’t do as much.

17. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in a fic?

I’m conflicted. Always. Majorly because I think that having bilingual characters in fanfiction is portrayed and expected in a way that I don’t feel it’s honest with how bilingual people -us- talk. So if I go by what I know I do I think it’s not what readers hope to see when it comes to that and if I go for how canonically is hoped to be found I don’t think it’s logical. But that’s me and my overthinking Xd If I have the option I like to do it.

18. First fandom you ever wrote for?

Belice! Or Bella/Alice. Worst first fic ever but oh, well, I’m always saying that :P

19. What’s your fav fic you’ve written so far?

Uhh… Don’t make me do this XD Agh, I don’t know. I’ve always been very vocal about Metallic Ink because I let myself enjoy the process of creating a magic system almost out of zero and that was fun. Despite hating some of the writing process and that I’d do it differently now I think I’m going to stick with that answer. Or anything that had any steampunk-based undertone. To be honest I like more thinking of concepts, I had one in where Emma was a thief and it involved the robbery of a ring that was Regina’s one way ticket to freedom I then later repurposed that I adored thinking about so let’s go with…. Yeah, I love having the option of changing things up a little and focus on how characters would fit in different aesthetics for this one Xd

Annnd… these are four pages, gods. I’m just going to tag @waknatious @carsonnieve @stregaomega here and see what they do- Enjoy the questionnaire ladies :P

[c-is-writing]

sticky notes

pairing: wandanat x gn!reader

genre: fluff as per usual

word count: 1588

warnings: polyamory (reader’s girlfriends are wanda and natasha)

a/n: ahhhhh my first request :’DDD i’ve actually had this sitting in my drafts for a while but never decided on the pairing until now lmao. also! for once i am posting this at a decent hour for me. i hope you all enjoy it uwu

original request

Ughhhh, I can’t wait to go home in a few minutes. I really want a break just to spend some time with my girlfriends. You begin to clean up your work area, tidying your papers and organizing your filing cabinets. Just as you grab your bag, a co-worker of yours rushes into your office frantically. 

“Y/N! I need you right now.”

“Huh? Why? What’s up?”

“I just got called into a family emergency and I really need someone to finish my paperwork. Do you think you can do it for me?”

You pause, thinking it over. Do you do your friend’s paperwork or refuse and go home? You’d feel bad if you said no because your co-worker is one of your closest friends but you don’t want to keep your girlfriends waiting. After considering your options, you sigh and place your bag back down, “Yeah, I can do the paperwork. Take care, I hope everything is alright”. She lets out a sigh of relief and thanks you as she hands you the paperwork. Looking it over, it seemed like it would take at least two hours to complete. Oh well, looks like my break will be delayed.

You were wrong about the paperwork. There were so many issues and miscalculations with the paperwork that you had to redo all of it and go search for past files to ensure the information was correct. At this point, your girlfriends were getting worried as you were never the one to come home late without telling them. Three hours had passed since you were originally supposed to get home and out of worry and concern, Wanda calls you.

Breaking your concentration, your phone goes off. As you reach for the phone, you rub the tiredness out of your eyes and answer in a quiet voice, “Hey, Wans.”

“Y/N, baby, is everything okay?”

“Hm? Oh yeah, I should’ve texted you two earlier but my co-worker just had to leave for an emergency and I’m doing her paperwork, right now.”

“Oh, how much longer will you be there? You sound really tired, you’ve been working hard for the past month and you deserve a break.”

“Honestly, I’m not sure. I’ve been redoing the calculations and double-checking the information again because there were so many issues with it. I just ca-”

“Okay..okay. Just take a deep breath and try to finish up the work soon, alright? Tasha and I miss you.”

You let out a light chuckle, “Mhmm, okay. I’ll try to be home soon. Love you.”

As Wanda bids her goodbye, you can hear Natasha’s faint voice in the background telling you to come home soon and that she loves you. Pressing the red button on your phone, you let your shoulders sag forward and rest your head on the table. Before grabbing your pen and going back to work, you groan and think about your girlfriends, both of them waiting for you to get home. That gives you a spark of motivation as now you are more determined to finish your work and get back to them as soon as possible.

Finally, after another two hours of work, you finished the paperwork. Letting out a yawn and listening to the pops from your back as you stretch it, you decide to grab your bag and leave. I’ll give her the paperwork and reorganize my office later. Heading to your car, you check the time on your watch, only for it to read “12:10am”. Once you get into the car, you lean your head against the steering wheel, wanting to go to sleep. You turn on some music in the hopes that it can keep you awake as you start the car and begin the journey home.

Upon arriving at the compound, you notice that most of the lights on your floor are turned off and your girlfriends are nowhere to be found. You assume that they’re probably in your shared bedroom, fast asleep considering how late it is. As you open the door, you find nothing; your girlfriends are still missing and there’s clothing on the bed. Turning on the lights, you make your way to the pile of clothing with a sticky note attached to it. “We’re sure you’re tired so change into these clothes and get comfy. Then, go to the place where we spend our late nights ;)” A small laugh escapes you as you think about how caring your girlfriends are. Within the next few minutes, you’re out of your work clothes and wearing Natasha’s hoodie paired up with Wanda’s sweatshirt. Both articles of clothing slightly baggy on you because they were always the type to have oversized clothes since “it provided maximum comfort” according to them. The stress slowly leaves your body as you make your way to the kitchen.

The overhead lights turn on and illuminate the kitchen to reveal a mess that resulted from impulsive baking, again, and a tray of brownies with another sticky note. Giggling to yourself, you think about all of the times the three of you shared late night baking sessions that always resulted in big messes and a lot of dirty dishes. Lost in your thoughts, you realize that you haven’t been able to bake with Wanda and Natasha due to all of the stress and work you’ve had for the past month. Shaking away those thoughts, you eye the brownies and pick up the sticky note reading, “Hey Y/N, you’re as sweet as these brownies <3. Bring a small container of them and go to the place where we had our first date.” Upon further inspection, you see a small scribble in Wanda’s handwriting, “PS. I made the brownies, don’t worry.” Laughing at the note and smiling fondly, you grab a couple brownies, put them into a container, and make your way to the living room.

Running your hand along the couch cushions, feeling the soft but slightly coarse texture on your fingertip, you remember your first date with Wanda and Natasha. What started out as a movie night with Natasha became a cuddling session with you sandwiched between your two favorite girls as Wanda joined you two. At this time, you were quickly coming to the realization that you had a crush on both of the women and that movie night solidified it. Once the movie had finished, the three of you had a talk and wanted to pursue a relationship together as three. Sitting on the couch, reminiscing in the memories, you notice a small yellow square on the coffee table in front of you. It captures your attention as you sit upright and reach to grab it. Tracing the words with your fingers, smiling at the small conversation happening on the paper.

*Wanda’s handwriting* “You know I always gave the best cuddles” 

*Natasha’s handwriting* “Hey! No, I did!!” 

*Wanda’s handwriting* “Hmm surrree Tasha. Anyways, come up to the roof, we have something for you :)”

Feeling your heart soar with happiness and adoration for the both of them, you push the sticky note into your hoodie pocket, hearing it crinkle against the other notes, and starting walking towards the staircase with the container of brownies in hand.

Within a few minutes, you reach the door to the roof and place your hand on the handle, unsure of what to expect. Taking a deep breath, you slowly push against the door and crane your head around it. This was not at all what you expected. The roof was softly illuminated by the string lights draped around a large picnic blanket with pillows, pasta, and best of all, your two lovely girlfriends: Natasha and Wanda. As you soak in the scene in front of you with eyes full of awe, Natasha gets up and quietly makes her way over to you. The red hair blocks your view as you feel Natasha’s hands grasp your shoulders. In a gentle voice, almost afraid to disturb the peacefulness, she tells you, “Hey, lyubov moya, we know you’ve been working hard and pulling late hours at the office for the past month. And I’m sure you were tired from having to stay late so Wanda and I wanted to prepare a relaxing evening for you, so you can destress and enjoy your long weekend.”

You look at her with watery eyes and bury your face into her shoulder, pulling her into a hug. Shocked by the sudden action, Natasha recovers and wraps her arms around you, gently stroking your hair as you mumble about how much you love them. At some point during the hug, Wanda joins in as you feel her chest pressing against your back. The two whisper words of praise as you take in the love that radiates from them. Freeing yourself from the sandwich and moving to hold their hands, you look at the both of them, overwhelmed with happiness and love, and say in a quiet voice, “Thank you both for doing all of this. I will never understand how lucky I am to have you two in my life. I love you, Wanda and Natasha.” They give you a fond smile, understanding how stressed you’ve been for the past month and knowing that this break was well deserved. Your girlfriends share a look as Natasha says, “Alright, let’s just cuddle and eat some pasta that Wanda cooked” and guide you to the picnic blanket. Settling in and sighing contently, you let your shoulders relax and forget about all of your stress and worries.

tag list (marvel): @imnotasuperhero​ @peggycarter-steverogers​

[justthehiddleswrites]

Follow My Lead | Tom Hiddleston x OFC | Chapter 4 | I don’t think you are supposed to giggle at Tolstoy.

A/N: This will update every Thursday.  There are 13 chapters.  There are all sorts of kinds of D/s relationships.  This is the one I choose to write this time.  

MASTERLIST HERE

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x OFC (Vivian Swann)

Summary: Tom and Vivian have both been unlucky in love, searching for something outside of the bounds of a typical relationship.  When the two of them connect via a dating app, Tom is introduced to the idea of being submissive to Vivian.  Which is the one thing he never knew he needed.  Under the firm hand of Vivian, Tom learns what it means to submit and Vivian learns what it means to be in a loving dominant relationship.  But not everyone seems to understand what they have and the best intentions can destroy the strongest relationship.

Warnings for story: Dominant/submissive relationship (sub!Tom), lots of smut including but not limited to: vaginal sex, oral sex (male and female receiving), edging, denial, teasing, use of restraints, spanking, multiple orgasm, anal play, use of toys.

Tag Lists Are Open!  Let me know if you want to be added.  Thank you for reading!

-

Tom slept like a rock that night. The best night’s sleep in a long time. He dreamed of Vivian, kneeling on his chest, kissing him, teasing him, biting him. And he woke that morning with his cock hard and leaking. He stroked himself as he thought about Vivian. But not in the way he usually did. Instead of fantasizing of her touching him, sucking his cock, jerking him off, Tom closed his eyes and imagined his lips on Vivian’s folds and clit. Her hands in his hair tugging his head where she wants it. Vivian moaning in response to his touch, his tongue. As her pleasure increases, Tom’s motions in real life increased. Tom came with a soft gasp, spurting along his torso. He panted, trying to catch his breath. Once he regained his composure, he headed to the shower to clean himself up and go for a jog.

-

Vivian rapped her nails on the desk in her flat. Her email open on the screen. She was drafting the proposed protocols for Saturday to Tom, and she contemplated on how far to push him. So far, Tom exceeded all Vivian’s expectations. Which worried her. In the past, all men have been eager to please, at first. But once the shiny new wore off, and the men realized the relationship wasn’t about her fulfilling their fantasies of kinky sex and it was about surrendering to her authority, they ran. Sometimes without further word. It wasn’t the incompatibility that bothered Vivian, but the coldness in which they communicated it. As though she was without feeling or emotion. This caused her to assign the reading at the beginning, to move more cautiously. And she wasn’t sure if her heart could handle a rejection from Tom.

With a sigh, she typed out to Tom:

This is a date for the sole purpose of kissing. No food, no drink, no chitchat, no reading, no hanging out.

In short: Kissing, petting, stroking and all the things come along with that- yes. Talking, sex, orgasms- no.

Here is a list of what may happen, not what will happen. If anything bothers you or off limits, let me know.

- Kissing, obviously. Let me know of any spots that are off limits.

- Shirt off

- Pants off (underwear on)

-Nudity (you, not me)

- Kneeling

- Blindfold

- Light bondage (cuffs- both wrists and ankles, tied to the bed)

- Biting

-Bruises on your body (both in places normally covered by clothing and places it would be visible such as the neck)

- All over body touching (let me know of body parts off limits)

- All over body licking (same as above)

- Roles reversed (you touching/licking me)

- Hands around your throat (gentle not choking)

- Hair pulling

- Fingers in your mouth (not gagging)

- Body-slapping

- Pinching

And I think I covered everything. Wear a button-down (I like when you undo the top few buttons) and jeans or slacks. Send me a photo of what your current underwear options are. I will send you your address that morning. I expect you at 7.

Vivian

She smiled as she re-read the email. She buzzed with anticipation at the possibilities of Saturday night. Vivian was certain she would cuff and restrain Tom, and not just because he had the tendency to squirm underneath her. She suspected it would push a button and was eager to test her theory. She hit click and headed off to work.

-

Tom was eating breakfast, having finished his morning run when his phone dinged with a new email from Vivian. He read through her email and swallowed hard. The list was extensive. He re-read before finishing up breakfast and heading upstairs and digging through his underwear drawer. Tom had three options laid out on the bed. He snapped a photo of them laid out on the bed. He examined the photo, unhappy.

“Might as well.” he commented to himself as he stripped down and pulled on the first pair, navy boxers.

Tom stood in front of the full-length mirror in the closet and snapped a photo. He hated to admit he may have flexed a bit in the photo. He repeated the process with the white underwear briefs, and the black Calvin Klein boxer briefs. Pleased with the photos, Tom typed back to Vivian.

Wow, that is quite the comprehensive list. I appreciate the thoroughness and the bullet points. I am not scheduled for any meetings until Wednesday, so any marks will have faded by then. My feet are ticklish. Probably shouldn’t tell you that. ;) And I would rather not have my armpits or the inside of my ears licked. Otherwise, I am game for whatever you want.

I have attached photos of the underwear, per your request. And if there is anything else I can do to be of service, please let me know, ma’am.

Your sunshine boy,

Tom

He attached the photos and sent the email and then returned to dressing for the day, flopping on the bed to return the last two books on his list before starting his essay.

-

Vivian was pleased Tom modeled the underwear rather than just lay them out of the bed. She probably would have directed him to model them. She wrinkled her nose at the first pic and flicking through the rest.

Black boxer briefs. Burn or throw away the tighty whities. If I find a pair in your home, I will punish you. Let’s change our night time call to 9:00 p.m. from now on. I hate keeping you up so late.

She placed the phone down on her desk. It buzzed almost immediately.

Consider them burned. 9 p.m. works for me, although I don’t mind waiting up if it means I get to hear your voice. :) I shall wait with bated breath until Saturday.

-

The rest of the day seemed to fly by for both of them and before long, Tom was settled into bed with both his books of collected poetry and Anna Karenina. He called on time and Vivian asked for him to read more of Tolstoy. He started doing voices of the characters, in particular an exaggerated Russian accent for Levin and Vronsky.

“I don’t think you are supposed to giggle at Tolstoy.” Vivian commented after one particularly dramatic passage.

“I’m a full service entertainer. Comedy, drama, action, romance.” Tom teased back.

“What about erotica?” she teased right back, her voice low.

Tom paused. “For you? Without question.” She could hear the hesitation, fear, and excitement in his voice. She hoped it would remain.

Vivian sighed. “I think it is enough reading for tonight. I want you to get a good night’s rest for tomorrow.”

“Yes ma’am.” he responded.

“Goodnight, Tom, my sunshine.”

“Goodnight, Vivian.”

They ended the call, and both drifted off to sleep.

-

Vivian attended her weekly blowout appointment, not realizing Tom spent the day as a bundle of nerves. He ran ten miles hoping to burn off excess energy. It didn’t work. The only thing he did was finish the last of the books from Vivian’s list. The fastest ever read through anything in some time. He was too distracted to write his essay, thought swirling in his brain. Tom wants it to be perfect. He wants everything to be perfect for Vivian.

Tom must have tried on at least six different shirts, each discarded on the bed as unsuitable. He settles on a soft, well worn light blue shirt. One of his favorites. The collar is fraying at the corners, which is why he doesn’t wear out as much anymore, favoring instead newer but less comfortable shirts. He grabbed a pair of jeans only to notice a hole on the inside of the thigh and discarded them also on the bed, grabbing a different pair. Tom left the top two buttons undone, a calculated air of casual. A quick dab of cologne and then he waited, not wanting to arrive too early.

-

After her morning errands, Vivian ate a light lunch and set about preparing her flat for Tom. She made up the bed with fresh linens and double checked the restraint points on the posts. She hadn’t decided on a leg position, so Vivian placed straps on all the corners as well as the point in the middle. Vivian opened the nightstand and retrieved the cuffs, adjusting them and placing them prominently in the foyer on a table. Cuffing Tom would be among the first things she did that night. In addition, she laid out a blindfold on the nightstand and put a bottle of water there too. After bathing, she slipped into a simple silk tank and striped shorts. She wore the same wedges as before. Vivian enjoyed looking Tom in the eye while standing and kissing. A quick dab of perfume behind the ears and settled on the couch, watching some TV waiting for Tom.

He knocked on her door, ten minutes early. Acceptably early without fear of being so early that he disturbed preparations.

“I couldn’t wait any longer.” Tom commented.

Vivian giggled. His eagerness was endearing. “I’ll allow it. Come in.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He stepped into her flat, looking around in wonder. Vivian grabbed him by the chin and kissed him hard.

“Do you still remember your word, sunshine?”

“Yes.” Tom is already breathing hard. “Sushi.”

She smiled and slid her hand down around Tom’s neck. His Adam’s apple moving underneath her palm. His eyes widened in fear. Vivian kissed him again. He leaned forward when she stepped back. She walked around him, fingers tracing the planes of his body, his broad shoulders, defined pecs and abs. Vivian gave his ass a playful swat. Tom yelped and staggered forward.

“Such a nice ass, sunshine.” She growled in his ear, grabbing it with her nails.

“Thank you, ma’am.” his voice shook. He wasn’t used to being manhandled, and his cock appreciated the rough touch.

“Shirt and pants off.” She stepped back to watch him undressed.

Tom’s cheeks blushed. He had been nearly nude in a room of strangers before, but under Vivian’s glare, he never felt so exposed. Tom tugged his shirt over his head, not bothering to undo the buttons this time. He folded the shirt, placing it on the nearby table while he slipped his shoes and socks off, and slipping his jeans down his lean legs. Vivian licked her lips at Tom in his underwear. While the man appeared fit clothed, he was something carved from marble without the clothes. He flashed a lopsided smile as he placed his jeans on top of his shirt and folding his hands in front of him, obscuring his crotch.

“God, you are beautiful.” Vivian hissed as she stepped forward to kiss him again. Tom hummed back at the praise, his body growing warm. She nipped at his lower lip, nibbling rather than biting, sending shocks through his body. “Wrists, please.”

Vivian moved to the table. Tom’s arms shot out. She grabbed the leather cuffs and put them on. Tom jerked back his arms.

“What are those?” His brows furrowed.

“Cuffs. Wrists.” Her tone sharp. Tom hesitated, his mouth opening to protest. “Sunshine, wrists.” she snapped.

“Yes, ma’am.” He reluctantly held out his wrists. She tightened the cuffs, making sure they wouldn’t chafe.

Tom twisted his wrists back and forth, testing out the weight and listening to the rings thudding against the thick leather. Vivian kissed him again, hands sliding down his torso. His cock jumped. She grabbed the back of his neck and led him towards the bedroom. Tom gulped at the blindfold and straps.

“Ah…” he started before being cut off by Vivian’s lips on his neck. “Oh!” he moaned. She laved and sucked hard, removing her lips with a pop, satisfied at the dark mark already formed.

“On the bed, sunshine. On your back.” Tom scrambled onto the bed, lying flat on his back. As Vivian slipped the cuffs on Tom’s ankles, he jerked back. She raised an eyebrow.

“Sorry, ma’am.”

“Good boy.”

She slipped her shoes off and then hooked his ankle cuffs to the straps in the middle of the bed. As Vivian strolled to the head of the bed, she ran a nail up Tom’s leg. He jerked against the restraints. She grabbed his arm and clipped it onto the strap before crawling onto the bed, reaching over to clip in the other side, her breasts grazing Tom’s body. His hips bucked.

“So squirmy, sunshine. Best I did tie you up.” Vivian straddled his chest, pushing him into the mattress. “I can’t let you get away just yet.” She pressed against his lips softly, earning a sigh. Her teeth worried his lower lip.

“Ow.” he mock protested.

Nevertheless, Vivian let go of his lip and trailed down his neck. She licked the bruise from earlier before moving down to his collarbone. Vivian sucked and nipped, leaving the twin to the neck’s bruise there. She smiled at her handiwork. Tom struggled against the restraints.

“They have held stronger men than you, sunshine.” Vivian dragged her nails down his sides, leaving faint lines. As she settled by his hips, Tom’s cock pressed against her. Tom huffed and puffed as she kissed his Adonis belt, scraping her teeth along his skin from time to time. Her hands stroked along his thighs and he flexed under her touch.

She slid off of Tom’s body, and he whined at the lack of contact. Vivian rolled back on top of Tom, lying along his full body like a blanket. Tom sighed at the weight and contact. She pressed her cheek to his chest, listening to his heart race. She snaked a hand to the back of his head and jerked his head sideways before kissing him. Tom met her lips with hunger and he whimpered each time she pulled away, only to tug him towards her again. He strained against the restraints, desperate to touch her, to pull her tight against him and rut against her. His tongue slipped into her mouth, needy, exploring every inch. He moaned as Vivian’s grip tightened on his hair, hurting, but he wanted more.

Vivian could sense Tom coming close to overheating, making a mess and complicating the hell out of this. His cock strained, hard and weeping. She pulled away, holding his lower lip between her teeth as long as possible, stretching it.

“Ow.” Tom muttered.

Vivian slid down to press against Tom’s side. She cupped her cheek before gently kissing behind Tom’s ear. Tom moaned softly from the back of his throat. Her fingers twisted into his hair and she massaged his scalp. Tom’s shoulders relaxed and his hands loosened from the fists. As she scratched and petted him, he leaned into her touch, his breath slowing to a deep and even pace. He closed his eyes, enjoying the soft touch.

“You are so beautiful, my sunshine.” She cooed at him. Her other finger tracing his jaw and cheekbone. “So pretty.” She kissed his cheek and stroked his chest.

“Thank you, ma’am.” His voice breathy and floaty.

Vivian reached over and unhooked Tom’s wrist. She turned and unhooked his other wrist. Tom didn’t move. She stood to unhook his ankles.

“Legs up, please.” Tom lifted his legs into the air. Vivian undid the cuffs, rubbing the skin and massaging it. She kissed the top of his feet and Tom giggled and squirmed. “You weren’t joking about being ticklish.”

“No, ma’am.” He slowly floated back to reality.

“Sit up, please.” Tom rocked up, his hair a rumpled mess, and held out his wrists. Vivian smoothed out his hair and held the back of his neck while she kissed his cheek and lips a few more times. She released him and unbuckled the wrist cuffs, rubbing his wrists and kissing each one and placed them on the nightstand and grabbed the water bottle, handing it to Tom.

“Thank you.” He opened the bottle and took a large swig. Vivian smoothed his hair back one more time.

“Let’s go get dressed, sunshine.” He sighed, taking another swig of water before standing. Vivian slipped her wedges back on and walked beside Tom, rubbing his neck the entire time. “I was a bit rough on you. Are you okay?”

“Yes, ma’am.” His voice quiet while he grabbed his jeans and tugged them on before pulling on his shirt, tucking it and zipping up.

“How did it feel? I imagine you are used to being treated with kid gloves.”

Tom pulled on his socks and shoes, working on finding the right words.

“I don’t quite know how it felt.” Tom replied, a hint of a smile at the corners of his mouth. “But I know I didn’t want it to stop. I didn’t mind the pain. I wanted to touch you and make you feel as good as you made me feel.”

Vivian smiled and pulled him into a hug, squeezing him tight. “Sunshine, I feel good. I received great pleasure at teasing you.” She kissed him. “With my mouth. And watching you squirm and hearing you purr.” She petted the back of his head. “But I appreciate your desire to please me physically. And you will when the time comes.”

Tom stared at her with his endless blue eyes. “When will that be, ma’am?”

“When you’re ready, Sunshine.” She kissed his cheek. “You still haven’t finished your homework first.”

Tom’s hands fidgeted, twisting in front of him. “I finished all the books. I plan on starting the essay tomorrow.” He stared at the floor. “I want it to be perfect.”

“As long as it is from your heart it will be, my sunshine boy.” She grabbed his hand and squeezed it. “I don’t ask for perfection, just effort.”

Tom nodded and squeezed her hand back. “Yes, ma’am.”

She walked him to the door, kissing him one more time. “Call me in the morning when you wake up.”

Tom nodded. “Thank you for tonight.”

“You are welcome. The pleasure was mine.”

Tom smiled and kissed Vivian’s cheek and headed out. She clicked the door shut and set about cleaning up the place. Tom came home and ate a sandwich before turning in early that evening, his brain still fuzzy.

-

As requested, Tom called in the morning, still in bed, to check in with Vivian. It pleased her that outside of the marks on his neck and collarbone, Tom was no worse for wear. Tom left out the part of the dreams he had or the fact he woke up with a raging hard on which Tom took care of in the shower, skipping his run for thirty minutes on his long neglected rowing machine.

Tom lazed about for most of the morning, having something akin to a hangover without the benefit of being drunk beforehand. As he sat down at this computer to start his essay for Vivian, there was a knock on the door. He groaned as he trudged to see who would dare disturb his lazy Sunday.

A smiling Benedict greeted him at the door. When he saw Tom in workout gear, he frowned.

“You’re not dressed!” he complained.

“For what?” Tom blinked back at him. He didn’t recall making plans.

“Lunch!” Benedict stepped in the foyer. “We made plans weeks ago. I’ll wait for you to change.”

Tom was ready to protest, but Ben crossed his arms and it was clear he wasn’t leaving without Tom. With a huff, Tom discarded his clothes into the bedroom which now had a small pile of discarded and dirty clothes, and grabbed an old gray v neck t-shirt and a pair of jeans. Shoving his feet into a pair of boots, Tom stomped back to Ben, pushing past him.

“Let’s go.” Tom grumbled.

Tom’s mood improved once he ordered some food and got half a pint into his system. Benedict stared at him, squinting.

“What?” Tom asked, still irritated.

“What is that on your neck?” He pointed at Tom’s neck. Tom twisted it, and then Ben spied the second mark on his collarbone. “And your chest? Were you attacked?”

Tom touched his collarbone and remembered. He blushed. “It’s nothing. Forget it.” He gulped down the other half of his pint and stood. “Let me go get another round.”

Benedict held out his arm to stop Tom. “It’s like you were bitten by someth… Oh… OH!” The lightbulb went off. “Things going well with Vivian?”

Tom rolled his eyes. “Yes.” He sidestepped Ben’s arm and grabbed another pint before returning to the table.

“Care to share?” He prodded.

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Moving on.” Tom grew more homicidal by the second.

Benedict clapped his hands together. “Remember how Sophie wrangled me into serving on the children’s hospital charity board?”

“Yes.” Tom saw the Cheshire Cat grin on Ben’s face. “No. No! I went last year and got cornered by that old lady who kept calling me ‘Henry’.”

“It was endearing.”

“It was ridiculous.”

“There’s an open bar.”

“Hard pass.”

“I have two tickets. You can bring Vivian.”

Tom stared at his friend. “I am not introducing you to Vivian.”

“Why not?”

“Because I like her and I’m afraid you will scare her off.”

Benedict scoffed. “I have never…” He clutched his chest in dramatic fashion. “… never scared anyone off.”

“Alice, Catherine, Eva…” Tom counted off on his fingers. “… I can go on.”

“None of them met my high standards. Please come.” he begged. “Sophie will kill me if you don’t come.”

“The thought of your death is tempting.”

The waiter set the food down.

“Tom…” Benedict dropped all pretense. “… please come. I promise I will be on my best behavior.”

Tom’s head dropped. “Give me the details. I will check with Vivian tonight when I call her.”

Benedict’s lips pursed. “Really? I can’t wait to meet her. Especially someone who leaves marks like that on you. Sounds like she is yours for the taking.”

“Yeah.” Tom mumbled as he took a bite of his food.

-

Tom called her at 9 p.m. like always.

“Sunshine, how was your Sunday?” she asked.

“Speaking of that…” Tom started, and she noticed the nerves in his voice. “What are you doing next Friday evening?”

She thought about it for a moment. “I believe I’m free. Do you have any ideas?”

Tom exhaled sharply. “I’ve been invited to a charity event by Benedict and I have two tickets, and I was wondering if you would like to come with me.” He blurted it all out in one big run-on sentence.

Vivian paused before laughing. “Wow, you were really nervous about that, weren’t you?”

“Yes, ma’am. Everything is still so new and I don’t… I don’t want to mess this up.”

“You are just the sweetest, sunshine. You know that right? Beautiful and sweet. Yes, I will go with you.”

Tom beamed. “How would everything work?”

“Like any date would. We go, we drink, we dance and mingle.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I know, darling. We can set some rules that work for both of us. okay?”

“Okay.”

“Now, read to me please.”

Tom grabbed the book.

-

Tom and Vivian agreed he would pick out three outfit options, but Vivian would come over ahead of time and make the final choice. They would not use pet names and instead would do what is natural. Tom asked that she still rub the back of his neck.

“It calms me down.” he commented.

“Of course, sunshine. I like when you are calm. You are more attentive that way.”

It was now the day of the event and Vivian sat on Tom’s bed, noticing the clutter. Tom was modeling the second outfit.

“I don’t like the tie. Let’s see the last one.”

Tom undid the tie and shirt and grabbed the last option. It was a double-breasted blue pinstripe suit with a blue shirt and navy tie. He did a little spin.

“That one.” Vivian stood and straightened his tie and petted his neck before squeezing his ass. “Your ass looks amazing in those trousers.”

Tom blushed again. “Thank you, ma’am.”

She kissed his cheek, wiping away her gloss. “Remember, no names, now let’s go.”

-

Tom was more at ease with Vivian by his side. Her reassuring touch at the back of his neck or even his shoulder grounded him. Not to mention, she dazzled everyone she met. Now for the big test.

“Benedict, Sophie, meet Vivian Swann. Vivian meet Benedict Cumberbatch, notorious troublemaker, and his queen of a wife, Sophie Hunter.”

Vivian shook each of their hands, holding tight to Tom’s but leaning in for a kiss on the cheek by Ben. Tom tightened his grip. She suppressed a giggle.

“Charmed. Thank you so much for inviting me. I have been looking into getting the firm involved in more charity work and the children’s ward is an enticing option.”

“Firm?” Sophie questioned.

“Watkins, Price, and Forbes. I work in their corporate law division.”

Benedict let loose a low whistle.

“Tom, you didn’t tell me you were dating a pit bull.” Sophie commented. “Impressive.”

Vivian smiled. “I prefer the term ‘velvet hammer’ but pit bull works. “

“How did you and Tom meet?” Ben interjected.

Tom paled, but Vivian didn’t miss a beat.

“The Bloomsbury Club. We bonded over a shared loved for Macallan 18-year-old aged whisky.”

Tom cleared his throat. “Right. Why don’t we take a seat?” He gestured at their reserved table.

“Your feet must be killing you in those shoes, Vivian. After having kids, I just can’t stand wearing them, but if I want to see eye to eye with this one.” She gestured at Benedict.

“Guilty.” He shrugged. “Although not as tall as the Frost Giant over there.”

Tom paused as he pulled out Vivian’s chair for her.

“I don’t mind the heels.” Vivian responded. “It is all what you get used to. Besides, I enjoy towering over people.” she giggled.

“Champagne?” the waiter offered.

“No, it makes her sneeze.” Tom commented.

“Get me a glass of white wine, please?” Vivian gazed up at him.

Tom smiled down and kissed her cheek. “Yes, of course, darling.”

“Sophie?”

Benedict and Sophie blinked at the two of them.

“Uh… yes a white wine sounds fantastic. Thank you, Tom.”

Tom nodded and headed off to the bar. Sophie elbowed Benedict in the ribs. He shuffled to his feet.

“Tom, let me help you with that!” He called after his friend.

Sophie waited until both men were out of earshot.

“How did you… I don’t want to know. You’re not like Tom’s other girlfriends, Miss Vivian Swann.”

She smiled. “I’m not sure if that is a compliment or an insult. So I will say thank you.”

“Definitely a compliment. There is something different about Tom when he is around you. He seems…”

“… happy?”

“Yes, but the word is content.” Sophie added. “Content, at peace. After that last nasty breakup, the man could use a little peace and quiet.”

“Hopefully not too quiet.” Vivian smirked.

“Are you two gossiping about us?” Benedict teased.

“I was just telling Vivian how happy and content our dear Thomas looks with her.” Sophie quipped.

Tom blushed as Vivian smiled and reached out to rub his neck. “I am. Thank you for noticing Sophie.”

-

The evening wound down. Tom for once enjoyed the event. Vivian won over Benedict and Sophie, so much so that Sophie invited her to go shopping tomorrow afternoon while she wrangled Benedict and Tom in tearing down a shed in Ben’s yard.

“Leave them to grunt work while we shop.”

“I would love to.” Vivian sipped at her wine.

The two couples said goodbye while waiting for the valet. Benedict hugged Vivian tight and kissed her cheek. While Sophie and her exchanged numbers. Benedict pulled Tom to the side.

“There’s something different about you, man.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about. I’m still me.” He shrugged his shoulders.

“No,” Ben folded his hands in front of his face. “there is definitely a change. And I think it has something to do with that enchanting woman over there, who I am sure is being tortured with baby pictures by my wife.”

“Perhaps.” Tom replied cryptically.

“Don’t fuck it up man. You will never find another girl…”

“Woman.” he corrected his friend.

“… Woman like her. You deserved a little happiness.”

“Tom?” Vivian placed her hand on his back. “The car’s here.”

“Of course. Ben.” He shook his friend’s hand and then hugged Sophie before opening the door for Vivian and then getting in and driving off.

-

“I’m going to head home.” Vivian stated when they got back to Tom’s home.

“Okay. I had a lot of fun tonight. It wasn’t nearly as dreadful with you there.”

“Your friends are a delight. They really do want the best for you, sunshine.”

Tom smiled at the name. “Yes, ma’am.” He fell back into the old pattern.

She grabbed the back of his head and tugged him into a kiss. Tom wrapped his arms around her and did his best to hold her tight. She pulled away, and he whined.

“I’m ready to take this to the next step, Vivian. I want to please you.” His hands ghosted over his shoulders. “In all ways.”

She smiled. “Send me the essay and we will talk. How about lunch tomorrow?”

“I will send it as soon as I step inside. I could cook you lunch here.”

“I would like that, sunshine.” She kissed him one more time. “Sleep well.”

“Yes, ma’am. You too.”

She smiled and walked to her car to head home. Tom stepped inside and rushed to his computer. He did a quick spell check on the essay he had been tweaking over the last week and clicked send.

“There.”

Vivian laughed as her phone beeped before she even left Tom’s driveway, knowing it was Tom’s homework.

“So eager. I like that.”

[op-peccatori]

Hopefully, Yours (part 2) | MLQC Victor

Fandom: Mr Love Queen’s Choice

Pairing: Victor/Fem!Reader

Rating: Mature 

Word Count: 8326

Summary: It took some cake, a friend, and some impulsive behaviour, but they got there. (part 2 of Hopefully, Yours)

Warnings/Tags: making out, language, my cheeseball antics

a/n: I was afraid of opening this doc at one point because every time I did I added more words to it ;; Also accidentally deleted the first draft, so I hope I didn’t leave anything out for this one. 

[video]

After Hours | Victor and Y/n

200, 280 views • Feb 8th, 2020

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JTV ✓

1.19M subscribers 

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5100 comments

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somsom 5 minutes ago

They’re both so nice. Victor’s always made out to be this heartless CEO, so it’s nice to see this side of him :) 

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tooktiktook  7 minutes ago

hmmmMMM

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cheribb 15 minutes ago

their eyes said more than enough <3 <3

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saltqueen 16 minutes ago

what i wouldn’t give to have someone look that soft over me

                                                    ⌨⌨⌨

Victor eyed the cheerful grin splitting Jason’s face, just a little uneasy in his seat. 

While having eager eyes on him was not an unfamiliar experience, he’d never been in a position where he was expected to talk about his feelings on camera. Not that he was about to confess in front of the entire crew of the show, but when it came to you the lines always got a little too blurry for his comfort. 

He got a little too eager.

“Just be nice,” Jason had instructed gently, and Victor steeled himself. 

They started, quite predictably, by asking him about his ideal type. Resisting the urge to scoff, he tried to stick to the script he’d worked on with Goldman, who had insisted on being present for today’s shoot. Not that Victor was complaining; it wasn’t exactly part of the job description, but Goldman had been enthusiastic, which Victor could appreciate and would certainly reward. 

Goldman had also spent most of yesterday handling the public relations department in his absence, preparing them for his appearance on the show. A tentative plan would be sent to him by tomorrow morning. He had faith in them, believing that they would be able to make this look good for him. 

“Someone who works hard,” he answered, knowing you would laugh at that. “Who can be themselves around me, someone I can be myself around. Someone...kind.”

The times you’ve spent in Souvenir flit through his mind, some quiet and some full of bright-eyed chatter.

“You’ve known Y/n for some time, right?” the interviewer asked. She looked nice, but he’d been on the block long enough to know that even the kindest faces can often hide the sharpest teeth.

“Yes.”

“What do you think of her?”

“She’s a very kind person,” he said easily. “One of the most hard-working and inspiring people I’ve ever met.”

You would surely gape like a fool after  seeing this. It was a little embarrassing, but Victor was determined to leave your image shiny after this. He would not have any words of his twisted to give you a bad name. If it got even a fraction of his feelings across, well, that was a bonus he wouldn’t mind having. The intimate setting of the ferris wheel had seemed to help some, but his admittedly indirect confession didn’t reach you as he had hoped.

God, but his father would love this.

“Did you have fun on your date?”

“It was lovely.” They tacked on another question and he nodded. “I...yes, I’d love to do it again.”

It was a little curt, but he didn’t really get what Goldman had meant by ‘nod tenderly with a far-off look.’

What would you think of that?

The interviewer raised a brow, her smile widening. “Let’s get to it, then. How do you feel about her?”

For some bizarre reason, the first thing that had come to his mind at this question was his inexplicable need to check your social idea every day. And the way his heart beats just a little faster when you’ve posted a new picture. How, in moments of weakness, he’d given in and saved a few to his phone. Even a mental reminder of it made him a little hot under the collar.

There were many things he couldn’t even begin to try and explain when it came to you.

Really, the list is endless.

Victor’s current favourite was the video you’d uploaded of eating the tiramisu he’d cooked. He watches it at the end of a bad day and just like that, he feels a little better.

“I think anyone who ends up with her would be the luckiest person in the world,” he said honestly. “She’s beautiful in every single way.”

The last three words were supposed to have stayed in his head, but saying them felt natural. Goldman seemed to approve, shooting him a discreet thumbs up.

When you walk in, sleep-deprived and grumpy but trying to hide it, thinking he won’t catch on as if he isn’t running sharp eyes over every inch of your face. When the first sip of your coffee is too eager, leaving your tongue burnt and him with a pressing need to soothe it with his own. When you eat too much sugar and complain about a stomach-ache; he scolds you for it, but his arms are left straining with the need to wrap themselves around you.

He cherished these moments and wanted every single one all to himself. 

She makes me greedy.

“Would you want to be that person?”

Victor laughed, light and incredulous. 

Yes. Yes. Yes. 

“I guess time will have to answer that question for us,” he said, the ghost of a smile on his lips, leaving it at just the right note to keep viewers hanging—right along with him.

lightscameranaps ✓ @jasonp

Hope y’all enjoyed the episode! #HopefullyYours

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bandanaman @headaccs

@jasonp sooo really sorry about this but we’re kinda dying over here

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raspberrydream @berryberry

@headaccs Victor’s acc is still private. Maybe there’s something there? 

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srirachafire @hotsauce

@berryberry But Y/n’s isn’t private, and there’s nothing there. Give it up guys, they’re just friends. 

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bandanaman @headaccs

@hotsauce bruh that look?? was not friendship 

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raspberrydream @berryberry

@hotsauce those words?? were not friendship

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srirachafire @hotsauce 

@headaccs @berryberry you two?? are hopeless romantics

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lightscameranaps ✓ @jasonp

@headaccs honestly? me too D: 

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bandanaman @headaccs

@jasonp !!!!!! asdfgdvsd

Closing your Moments and the entire thread discussing the episode, you flop back down onto your mattress. Reaching for your newest plushy, you hug it tight, perhaps a tad too aggressively. 

It’s odd. You struggle between the visceral sort of pleasure that comes from a job well done—because the response is terrific—and the trembling nerves that come from watching yourself on a date with Victor.

Watching the episode had been harder than you had expected; you hadn’t quite been expecting the way Victor was looking at you—the intense gaze was a little too convincing, and watching it from the audience’s perspective was flustering. 

You spent most of it trying to suppress the inconvenient surges of hope, telling yourself it wasn’t real.

There really was nothing to know. The ferris wheel shot had ended there because you had nothing to say to Victor’s answer. You don’t know if he was referring to his past or his present, but the look in his eyes made it clear: his feelings were still there. Instead of pressing him, you chose to stay quiet, exhaustion clear in your face and sinking deep into your bones.

Victor had seemed to understand and maybe even appreciate it, probably not wanting to discuss it either, and only insisted on dropping you home. The ride to your place had been mostly silent, but you had tried to ask him his thoughts on the day and the shoot. He kept his answers concise, appearing a little distracted, which was so unlike him it made you wonder if he regretted opening up.

You’d spent the entire ride trying to quell the delicate little thing trembling in your chest.

The next video started while you were lost in your thoughts, and it happens to be your individual parts. Curious, you lean in, wincing slightly at the way you were fidgeting. 

And then they switch to Victor. You both had to wear the outfits from the date for these, but you still weren't quite expecting the impact his voice alone would have on you. 

And as always, those fierce eyes have you freezing in place.

“Let’s get to it, then. How do you feel about her?”

He looks unfazed by the question. Of course, they go over the questions with you beforehand, but you still remember how nervous you’d felt when asked how you felt about him; Victor’s eyes flick towards the camera, filled with intent, as if addressing you—and you close the laptop with a snap, your throat tight.

You don’t have to watch that right away.

You had been very careful about what to say, how to act, channeling your inner-Victor to adopt a marble-smooth expression. Say nice things about him? Easy, you didn’t even have to make anything up. Imply just enough to keep people guessing. 

Keep your unwanted feelings to yourself. 

Palm coming to rest over your heart, pressing down as if it would alleviate the ache there, you try to sort through your thoughts. You never really thought there was a chance, but to hear it confirmed was a blow you weren’t prepared for. 

It’s ridiculous to feel so insecure, you think. You feel like you lost a competition you had never even had the chance to compete in. And over an unnamed, mysterious figure? So silly! 

But another part of your mind says it’s okay to feel this way, that it’s only natural. You’ve had such strong feelings for Victor for so long. And all of these feelings, the good and the bad, are yours; the wounds of your heart, the light in your laughter. Fighting them would only make you suffer. The love and the hurt are part of you, both important in their own right.

Knowing all of that doesn’t make it easier, though. 

After all, Victor had alluded to his feelings on camera, to your face. Knowing him, he would never do that unless he was sure about the person. 

“This fucking sucks,” you admit out loud, and at the heels of your words come the tears. Because, to make it even worse, people really seem to think it’s you. 

You can’t blame them, because even you had been taken in by his soft looks. Anyone watching would believe he’s smitten with you. Good for the show, terrible for you. 

You’re not strong enough to reply to them, to tell them you aren’t that fortunate, and have been hoping Victor, or someone from his team, would put a stop to it. 

But there hasn’t been any word from them and you curse out loud at the fact that he expects you to do something about it. As if there’s any more emphasis needed, your phone vibrates. Unlocking it with a miserable sigh, you scroll down quickly.

‎‎

Minor [19:40]: am I watching this right? Boss, are you dating the CEO? PLS SAY NO

Chik [20:21]: You bitch. When were you going to tell me you snagged THAT? So I was right back then, ha! Anyway, you two are adorbs. The puppy eyes are disgusting. I’m proud of you.

Chik [20:22]: also...deets. Now. I’ll even throw in a please!!! 

Lucien [20:40]: Well, now. I seem to have missed out on quite the opportunity.

Kiro [20:45]: I wish you’d invited me. But I guess it wouldn’t have mattered. I hope he makes you happy, Miss Chips! He better, or else ;P

‎‎

Frowning at the texts you scroll back up, hoping, hoping, hoping, and at the sight of the name that always sits at the tip of your tongue, you curl up tighter.

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Victor [21: 05]: Are you okay?

Y/N [21:20]: I’m fine. Moments seems to be blowing up, haha. Did you watch the episode?

Victor [21: 20]: Yes.

Victor [21: 21]: Did you?

‎

You pause at that, looking guiltily at your laptop. You had, sort of. Fighting off your own thoughts had taken up most of your attention. Resolving to watch it again—a clear display of previously dormant masochistic tendencies, roused by Victor— and actually pay attention this time, you turn back to the screen.

‎

Y/N [21:22]: Yeah, but not the individual parts. It was nice, they made it seem so real! But we’re going to have to say something to let them know there’s nothing like that.  

‎

You wait anxiously for a reply, a part of you clearly suffering from delusion hoping he’d oppose that. When there’s no text from him for a few minutes, you plug your phone in to charge and get out of bed, heading for a quick shower before you get something to eat.

Heartbreak hasn't been enough to curb your appetite, and you feel more than ready to let dessert have the chance to make you feel better.

Who needs Victor when you have cake, right?

Just as you’re halfway through cutting a slice of the cake Jason—well, his team—had sent as thanks, trying to keep your thoughts away from the bottle of wine you‘ve got tucked away, your doorbell rings, breaking the melancholic silence of your apartment. A part of you wants to roll your eyes at your dramatics, while the other feels you have the right to wallow for as long as you need to.

The irrational side of you stirs once more, conjuring thoughts of Victor rushing over, and you peep through the hole with a wildly thumping heart. 

Lucien’s serene smile chases those thoughts away, and you open the door with a sheepish grin. 

He looks a little tired, his dark bangs ruffled; unlike his usual sharp appearance, he looks impossibly soft in his barn red sweater and comfortable looking track pants. He’s also got a folder tucked under one arm.

“Hi!” 

“Sorry to drop by so late,” he greets you, his warm eyes bringing you a little comfort instantly. “But you mentioned you’d be working on Miracle Finder tomorrow and I wanted you to have the chance to go over my remarks before that.”

“Lucien! Thank you,” you insist, waving away his apology. “Would you like to come in? I’ve got cake.” 

He searches your face for a moment, and his eyes narrow the slightest bit. You feel a little self-conscious in your over-sized sweatshirt and shorts, but it’s not like he hasn’t seen you in various states of disarray before. 

“Can’t really say no to that. Let me get my laptop,” he finally agrees. You wait at the door as he gets it, before leading him in. But you notice his curious, inquisitive looks, so subtle and so Lucien, as he toes off his shoes.

“Everything okay?” You reach for another plate, cutting a second slice as Lucien takes a seat at the table. 

“Yes, of course. It’s just,” he hesitates, and there’s that odd scrutiny again. “I wasn’t expecting you to be alone.” 

“On a Sunday evening?” The first bite of the cake tastes like sweet comfort over the taste of despondency, and you send a silent thanks to Jason. “I spent the day napping.”

“Well, after the show I just watched,” he says, quite slyly in your opinion. “I wasn’t even sure if you’d be home.”

“I didn’t know you were interested in dating shows.” You’re aware your tone is more than a little petulant, but Lucien only laughs around a mouthful of the cake. 

“I am if you’re in one,” he retorts. “This is quite nice, by the way.” 

“The director, Jason sent it. And, honestly, it wasn’t planned. We were supposed to have Kai and Hollow on, but they ended up clashing horribly. Jason asked me and Victor was around, so…” you trail off, uncomfortable. 

“Is that why you texted me that day?” He seems to have remembered your message, and you wince slightly. You had texted him later with an apology, but hadn’t really expected him to cotton on. He doesn't look mad, just expectant.

“Well, yes, but Jason wanted, he wanted Victor.” Stumbling over your words, heat suffuses your skin as you flounder for a moment.

Lucien watches you with the eyes of a fox and the understanding of a good friend. “Just Jason?”

“Huh?”

“Was it just Jason who wanted Victor?” he asks, tilting his head as your mouth purses. 

No, no, of course it wasn’t. You stare down at your half-eaten cake, the other half of it beginning to churn in your stomach. His small, soft smiles. His scent. His rants on street food and the way he dragged you away from food that would ‘absolutely make you ill, you absolute dummy’ as Jason resigned himself to having to cut all of that out. It all comes back in a rush, your head left feeling heavy.

And then it feels the weight of a hand, as Lucien reaches over to pat it gently. “Never mind. Why don’t you get your organizer and we can go over tomorrow’s episode?” 

Relieved, grateful and slightly emotional over his silent acceptance, you rush to your bedroom to find your notebook and laptop, barely catching the light of your phone screen before it went black. Unplugging and checking it as you exited the room with your materials in hand, your train of thought comes to a screeching halt.

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Victor [21:59]: Do you really believe that?

Victor (2 missed calls)

Victor [22:15]: Y/n.

Victor [22:16]: ...Did you fall asleep?

Victor [22:18]: Dummy. Goodnight. 

‎‎

Unwilling to delve into what his first text means, you shift your thick planner in your arms and type a quick reply. 

‎‎

Y/N [22:19]: Hi! Sorry. I went to get something to eat and then Lucien dropped by. We’re going to get to work haha ^^

Victor [22:19]: …

‎���

You wait for a whole minute before Lucien calls for you, and let your hand fall, phone locked, with a sigh. 

Well, at least he’ll be happy to hear you’re working hard.

Sinking into familiar, engaging discussions with Lucien is easy. Even with the thoughts of Victor looming at the back of your mind, you straighten out a plan for the shoot. Lucien listens to your input carefully, adding his own notes as you squint at yours. His voice, familiar and soothing, lulls you, distracting you from yourself for a short while.

Before you know it, it’s eleven and you’ve got a fantastic plan in hand. 

“I’m sorry I kept you so late,” you say for the second time in a minute, and he gives you an exasperated look. “And thank you.” 

“I’ve told you, there’s no need for all that between us,” Lucien repeats, crossing one long leg over the other as he adopts a thoughtful look. “However, perhaps you could satisfy my curiosity regarding one thing.”

“What is it?” 

You were prepared for a philosophical question. What he comes up with is, in your opinion, way more difficult to answer. 

“Why aren’t you with Victor?” he asks seriously. You blink, uncomprehending.

“Like, right now?” 

“Right now, or in general. I didn’t think he would just...let you be,” Lucien mutters the last part under his breath, but you still catch it. He continues to say something about possessive bastards, but you’re not touching that.

“I think you’ve misunderstood,” you say, slowly, with a nervous laugh, shoulders hunching a little. “All of that was just for the camera. Victor and I aren’t like that.” 

“But you have feelings for him,” Lucien points out, cutting straight to the heart of the matter and yours. Really, this is almost cruel. Lucien turns to face you fully as you sigh and sink back into the couch. 

“I do.” It’s the first time you’ve admitted it out loud. Sure, some of the people in your life have had an idea, but you’ve never said it. Lucien seems like a good person to start with. “But he doesn’t feel the same way, so.” 

And you’ve never said that out loud either. It hurts, as you put it out into the universe. As if shying away from it before would have increased your chances. 

Lucien looks at you oddly. “Did he say that? Because the way he looks at you says otherwise. It’s quite embarrassing.”

You feel heat creeping up the back of your neck.

“I’ve never told him how I feel,” you mumble, pressing the side of your cheek into the soft fabric, hoping it would swallow you up. 

“Then how do you know how he feels?” Lucien continues to probe, and you exhale forcefully because it’s so clear to you; why isn’t it ever as clear to everyone else? 

And Lucien is supposed to be your smart friend!

‘Well, there’s also someone else in his life but I can’t exactly say that.’

“Because it’s Victor,” you declare with an emphatic sweep of your hands, hoping it would somehow get your point across, that it would explain how unattainable he is. Just as you do, two things happen successively. 

One: Lucien looks at you as if he wants to boink you on the head or laugh really loudly. He does neither, but his mouth twitches violently.

And two: there’s a series of loud, heavy knocks on your door, before the culprit seems to remember you have a doorbell and rings that instead. It only rings once, but you can sense that the person is still there.

Exchanging alarmed looks with Lucien, you rise to your feet and shuffle towards the door.

“Let me,” Lucien murmurs, stopping you before you can reach the entrance, and steps forward to look through the peephole. His only reaction is a quick, sharp exhale before he steps back to unlock the door. 

Without telling you who was just knocking at your door like a maniac. 

“Wait, who i-” the words fall away with your panicked thoughts, as Lucien opens the door to reveal your uninvited visitor.

It really is Victor this time, with his chest heaving as if he’d run up the stairs. Victor, with his inky hair pushed back carelessly, in dark grey sweats and a light grey t-shirt and indoor slippers. 

Victor, with a furious look in his eyes as he pushes past Lucien, who looks a little too entertained in the face of such ire. 

“Sorry to intrude on your cosy evening,” he says, after a short pause, through clenched teeth. You stare at him in disbelief, unable to form actual words at the moment. It feels as if a concentrated storm itself has swept into your living room, ready to swallow you up. 

Of course, a part of you would be more than okay with that. Even with that knife-sharp glint in his eyes, you can’t help but want to throw yourself at it, let it graze the softest parts of you, in an emotional variation of bloodletting. 

Sometimes you surprise yourself with the things you think.

Maybe you should’ve changed into nicer pyjamas after all, damn it.

“Victor? What-is everything okay?” You look him over carefully, seeing no visible signs of injury. The stony look on his face, however, keeps you from coming too close. What could you possibly have done now?

Swiftly, you run through a list of work-related tasks. Nope. Nothing. You’ve been sure to give it your all this week just so Victor wouldn’t feel the need to call you.

Even now, though, something under your skin starts buzzing, as it always does when his entire attention is on you.

“Yes. Why wouldn’t everything be okay?” he says mutinously, crossing his arms over his chest. Okay, you’re sensing more than a little hostility here. 

And, because life is unfair, bitchy is also a good look on Victor.

“Well,” you draw out, looking past him at Lucien, who shrugs lightly. Victor frowns at the exchange. He levels a downright lethal glare at Lucien, who tilts his head in clear interest. Kinda hot, but you should probably keep that to yourself lest you push Victor to the point of spitting fire. “It’s...late...and you’re here…?”

That has his mouth doing that little spasm it does when he’s pissed. “And I notice I’m not the only one. What, is it just me who’s barred from coming to your place this late?” 

“Well, n-no,” you stammer, looking once more at Lucien who seems content to watch and be unhelpful. “But Lucien was just here to talk about tomorrow’s episode.” 

Why are you here? 

The question seems to hang in the air, unsaid yet clear. 

Victor says nothing, standing tall in your living room like an indignant matron. You feel helpless, confused, elated and increasingly offended because of the implication in his words that only catches up to you now.

You pick the path of offense.

“But what, exactly, did you think Lucien was doing here?” you ask, your tone turning decidedly cooler. He returns your glare. Behind him, you see Lucien trying to hide a smile. “You seem to be under the impression that I make it a habit of entertaining people in my evenings?” 

Victor blinks at that, arms coming loose, and you hold up a hand.

“And even if I did want to have friends over at night,” you say loudly, through gritted teeth. “What business is it of yours?” 

“It’s inappropriate,” he insists. 

“No, what’s inappropriate is you coming into my house and telling me who I should, or should not, be spending time with, regardless of the time.” Much to your frustration, you find yourself blinking back tears as your voice cracks towards the end. 

Victor deflates at that, the ice in his expression melting in the face of your furious tears; Lucien, concern clear on his face, takes a step towards you. Your eyes squeeze shut, as if that would hide you from them; anger and embarrassment war within you at not only crying in front of Victor, but to have a quiet Lucien witnessing this ridiculous drama. 

Where did your peaceful day go?

You hear footsteps, hesitant and barely audible, come closer, feel the heat from a body as it nears yours. 

“I’m sorry. I’ll leave.” It’s Victor.

Your eyes snap open to the sight of his back, your feet carrying you forward without the aid of your thoughts, a hand curling loosely into his t-shirt. 

Leave? Just like that? 

He stops in his tracks, looking back down at you in surprise. You’re not sure what he sees as you keep your eyes fixed on his shoulder, but it makes him sigh softly.

A thumb wipes under your eyes, gentle, and strong arms wrap around you carefully, pulling you into an—unreasonably broad, you think—chest; his comforting scent envelopes you, pulling you back from the edge. 

It’s frustrating. You want to yell at him for barging in like a lunatic. But you don’t want him to leave. You want to sink into his steady embrace and allow the solace it brings.

With your face pressed to his t-shirt, you miss the way he looks back at Lucien, who nods and turns to leave, but not before holding Victor’s gaze for a moment longer—you don’t see the warmth drain from his face, the vicious warning warning clear in his eyes. 

Victor pulls you closer, nodding once. 

If Lucien’s answering smile is a touch more resigned than amused, neither of them can really acknowledge it. 

You try to pull back when you hear the door close gently, but Victor cards a hand through your hair and you slump back into his embrace. 

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, stroking your hair, with a gentle hesitance uncharacteristic for the decisive man. “That was...extremely inappropriate of me. I should not have done that. I can leave. I should.”

He should. But neither of you move. His heart beats a little faster, the sound clearer the longer your ear remains pressed into his chest. 

With cotton in your mouth, your mind totally mush with the knowledge that Victor’s hugging you, and with the little voice yelling that he does not get to hold you after driving you to tears—it takes you a moment to form a response. 

But you can’t resist. “So what you’re saying is you made an impulsive decision.” 

The soft motions of his hand pause before he huffs into your hair. There’s no other response, and it makes you smile a little.

“Why did you?” you finally ask. Victor quite visibly lost his cool. While he did seem to have something against Lucien, this was a bit much. You hadn’t been aware that the hostility ran this deep.

He tucks your head under his chin, the arm around your waist tightening, and as the anger subsides, your face begins to heat up as you realize how intimate this is. But Victor seems content to stay like this, and your heart hammers when you feel something brush the crown of your head. 

“Dummy,” he mutters, and yes, his words are slightly muffled by your hair, and you feel the urge to stick your head in the refrigerator. “You had that guy over this late at night. Do you really need to ask?” 

“It’s just Lucien,” you respond, and this time he lets you pull your head away to look at you with abject disbelief. 

“Just? There’s no just with that guy.” He seems serious, so you swallow the laughter bubbling up.

“Lucien is a dear friend,” you assure him. “You were really that worried about it?”

“Worried,” Victor repeats, staring at you. Your confusion is clear in your face, as the feeling that you’re missing something creeps in. “Worried. Yes. I was worried.” 

You nod encouragingly, and take a quick step back when he laughs. It isn’t one of his airy laughs, that escapes him when he finds something funny. It’s low, almost strangled—and then he steps forward, expression melting into sheer intent. 

When he speaks, his voice is a full octave lower and it scrambles your brains with shameful ease.

“Since he was the one you considered over me for our date that day. Yes, I suppose I was worried,” he muses, matching every unsteady step you take backwards with one towards you. You refrain from pointing out that it was for a show, and all too soon, the back of the sofa hits your hips and Victor looms over you. 

You tuck the part about him knowing you wanted to ask Lucien first away for later. Victor, his soothing scent, the heat from his breath, his tempestuous gaze—your senses flood with him.

“Y-yeah. But you didn’t need to be, he always helps us out,” you point out confusedly, and he gives you a familiar, unimpressed look that brings a small, and odd, measure of relief. 

“What kind of a person would I be,” he says, and your stomach swoops as he leans over you, hands resting on the top of the sofa as you lean back. “If I let dangerous men like him think they have a chance with you?” 

“Dangerous? He’s…” The rest of his words catch up and you can’t think, tongue struggling to form coherent speech. “Not...dangerous?” 

“Too dangerous,” he murmurs, lips brushing over your temple. Something in the back of your throat trembles. “Even if I don’t have the right, I…”

He doesn’t continue.

Holding your breath, you count to five before releasing it, pulse beating an anticipatory beat in your veins. “Why should anyone think they don’t have a chance with me?” 

You know he hasn’t, but with how everything in you stills after asking that question, you wonder if he stopped time.

You’re not sure if it’s the right question to have asked, or the worst.

But it gives him pause, and when the tip of your tongue slips out to wet your lips, his eyes slide down to your mouth. A large hand slides up your spine to rest at the back of your head, your skin erupting with goosebumps at the touch. 

Your lips part on the softest sound and it makes something rumble in his chest, quiet but clear with how close he is. 

It gives you what you’ve been dreaming of—Victor’s lips falling over yours, soft, with a rushed breath and fervent eyes, something desperate at the edge of it. Everything goes quiet, with only your blood pounding in your ears. It feels as if every inch of you is awake in a tingly sort of way, your thoughts deserting you at the way he looks at you, ready to devour. 

There’s hunger in his eyes, and you feel faint when it hits you.

It’s also his answer, you realize, mouth opening to say something, anything, and he pulls you back, kissing you fiercely. Something in you caves, spilling into your blood, setting it alight with a burst of sparking desire.

Victor kisses with his entire body, like he does everything else: controlling every inch of it, sweeping your mind clean, licking into your mouth with the determination that drives his every action, to conquer.

But you’ve been determined to match him since the day you first met him, all too eager to push back and clash. You don’t mind the clack of teeth, the lack of rhythm, and Victor only presses in harder as your arms slide over his shoulders, fingers weaving into his hair. Your tongue is a sly thing that licks along his, your mouth a clever warm weapon that sucks at it, and he unravels. 

Hands that were so careful lose their caution as they dig into the sides of your hips, slinking down and hooking around your thighs as he lifts you up, your legs wrapping around his waist.

“You’re not stopping me,” he rasps against your lips, almost questioning, pupils blown wide. He looks so good you might just lose your mind, and this is after a kiss.

Taking a page out of his book, you kiss him again. 

He carries you around the sofa—with a strength you’ll be sure to admire deeply once you’ve regained the ability to form thoughts—even as he sucks bruises into the delicate skin of your neck, sitting down with you sinking into his lap. 

You’re shivering, you realize, at this sudden fulfilment of a desperate, impossible wish. Your knees press into the sides of his thighs as Victor kisses the corners of your mouth, the curve of your upper lip, the plush, swollen jut of your lower lip—and you feel deliriously drunk. 

He watches you carefully.

“Oh,” you say, half-slurring, kissed stupid. “That’s why.”

“Hm,” he agrees, nuzzling the side of your face. His eyes are bright, his arms a grounding touch around your back. “No one should think they get to have this.” 

“No one but you?” It’s meant to be clever, sharper, but it comes out shy instead. He nips at the shell of your ear, and you can’t bring yourself to be mad about it. 

“If you allow it,” he confirms. He presses his lips to the soft skin behind your ear.

Something swells within you, sweet, sudden and threatening to dissolve you into tears. It breaks open, everything you’ve worked so hard to suppress spilling out like hoarded treasure out of a box now too small to hold it.

“I like you.” It comes out in a rush, and you slap your hands over your face. This time, his low chuckle rings clear in your ears. But when your breath hitches on a sob, his grip on you tightens, lips finding your forehead. “I really like you. So much. I have for a while. At the fair, all of it, I wasn’t...wasn’t acting.” 

“What, and you thought I was?” He looks a little offended when you take a peek at his face. But the sight of his ruffled hair and kissed-puffy lips sends a hot, thrilled jolt through you, and you have to restrain yourself from pouncing. “I have many skills. Acting, admittedly, is not one of them.”

“I thought maybe it was a hidden passion or something,” you mutter, trying to repress a wet laugh at the withering look he gives you, gentle hands wiping at your eyes. “What, you were great!”

“Nope. That was all real,” he declares, pulling you in to rest against him, your head on his shoulder. You feel a little awkward, but that’s mostly outweighed by how much you want to stay here. “...well, maybe I was a little…”

“Nicer than usual?” you offer, and he huffs into your hair. “Cheesy, like you binge-read several romance novels the night before?”

“Cheesy?” He protests, and you laugh with warmth building and rushing through you. “I thought you liked all that.” 

“I do.” This time, the kiss he presses into the crown of your head is firmer. 

“Then I’ll do it.” You look up at him, a little enchanted, a little bewildered, but the former wins out as the corners of his mouth curl up. “Every silly thing you want to do. Oh, and I really like you too.” It’s almost a scoff, but the tremor in his voice and the flush that spreads across his skin speaks his truth.

“Really?” you ask, your grin a little mad and ridiculously beatific. It feels unreal, the joy and relief spreading through you; he pecks the tip of your nose.

“Have I ever given you reason to doubt me?” Victor asks, and the solemn sincerity in his voice prompts you to deliver a loud, smacking kiss to his cheek, just because you can. To your unending joy, the lobes of his ears are almost impossibly red. 

“Never,” you assure him, peppering more kisses over his skin, fascinating by the sight of him pinkening. A thought strikes you, dampening your rising spirits. “I thought...thought there was someone else.” 

He makes a soft, surprised noise in his throat, disbelief winning out over the tenderness for a moment. “Who?”

“I don’t know!” You press your face into the side of his neck, inhaling his comforting scent, hoping it would help with the remnants of hurt. “Some mystery goddess.” 

He’s quiet as you nuzzle his rapidly warming skin, feeling the first hints of sheer mortification settle in at the way your voice just cracked. He whispers something. 

“Sorry?” 

Victor clears his throat. “Just you.” He buries his nose in your hair before you have the chance to lean back like you want to. “It’s only ever been you.” 

Not expecting the sincere confession, it feels as if the breath was punched out of you.  “Why didn’t you ever say anything?” 

He toys with a strand of your hair, curling it absently around a finger. “I didn’t want to overstep. And to make you feel like you had to reciprocate.” 

You stay silent, sensing that he has more to say, even though you want nothing more than to wrap yourself around him and never let go.

“I’ll admit that I feared you would feel pressured to be with me. And that would...I would rather see you happy with someone else, than see you miserable with me.”

“I could never be miserable with you,” you protest at once, feeling almost offended by the mere suggestion. 

“I’m not...I know I can be difficult.” The words fall out in a rushed exhale, as if he wants to get them out before they can be swallowed; you feel weak with the force of your emotions. “But I can try for you. I did that day. I wanted you to relax, to have fun, like you do with your friends. I didn’t want you to be so...cautious.” 

It’s true, you realize guiltily, that there are times where you can’t completely relax in Victor’s company. Those are the days where your feelings sit a little heavier in your stomach, when his words strike a little sharper. The thought of disappointing him, of doing something not to his taste, of judgment, held you back. 

But the day of the fair had been different. He met you halfway, maybe even more than that, and never said a word of complaint. You’d assumed that had been for the camera, though.

“Please,” he says with a roll of his eyes, and you realize you’d said that out loud. “No, that was…” He lowers his gaze, long lashes fanning over the tops of his cheekbones. “That was to show you that you can have fun with me too. I...like you. The way you are. Every bit. The determined, unyielding parts.”

You stare at him.

“The hurting, unsure parts,” he says, a little quieter. “The silly, ridiculously cute parts—don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what,” you ask, your overworked mind trying to process his words, knowing your smile is probably embarrassingly dopey. 

He scowls at you. “Just be yourself with me. Dummy is fine.” 

“Victor,” you exclaim all of a sudden, startling him. “How am I supposed to stay standing in the face of you saying things like that?” 

He rolls his eyes again. “First of all, you’re sitting right now, and I don’t plan to let you move for a while.” Predictably, you feel a little lightheaded at that. “And as for the future...then don’t try to stand, dummy. You can just rest here.” He pulls your head to rest on his shoulder, patting it firmly.

“I’m going to die,” you say with absolute certainty into his shoulder. “I can’t survive this.” 

“You have to,” he mutters dryly, tucking you more firmly against him. “Haven’t you seen the discussions? Our ‘love story’ can’t end in your death, too many would be left devastated.” 

“Including you?” The look you direct at him is positively vulpine, and he snorts, pushing your head back down. Bully. 

The titillated fluttering in your stomach makes you smile.

“...I can’t become a widower before we even get married,” he says solemnly, and you can nearly feel the blood drain from your face as you rear back. 

The corners of his mouth twitch with something like mischief, and the smack you deliver to his bicep is perfectly justified. 

The undoubtedly chiselled muscle you feel very briefly will also require further rumination once you’re alone.

He’s cracking marriage jokes, no doubt referring to the few comments gushing about a secret wedding. An hour ago, you had been under the impression that he was madly in love with some mystery figure. 

Like a bird just freed, your heart flutters at the thought of him having feelings for you.

“Say it again.” 

To his credit, he doesn’t do you the disservice of pretending he doesn’t know what you’re asking for. He clears his throat, eyes flicking to the side before finding their way back to yours. 

“I like you,” he says, a little lower, a lot deeper. “Dummy.” 

You wish you could see what your face was doing, because it makes his eyes go really, really soft. Now that you aren’t weighed down by the frantic need to hide your feelings from one of the most astute people you’ve ever met, you feel like you could float away the way you’ve seen Gavin do, just from how free and happy you feel.

“Just for the record,” you say quietly. “I like you the way you are too.”

“Hm?”

“Even when you’re being a jerk.” He tweaks your ear lightly, rolling his eyes when you giggle. Your heart beats a harsh beat as you try to come up with the right words. “But you’re also the best man I know. When you have it together, and when you don’t—I’ll be there for you. Always.” The way he’s always been there for you.

He kisses the tip of your nose, his pretty eyes a little shinier than before.

“We should aim for a real date first.” He sounds decisive, and a little hoarse.

“...I have a list of places I thought would be good for our first date,” you admit, eyes still locked with his despite your shy admission. He looks pleased, always happy when you take the initiative, and you watch his mouth do that tender thing for a second before leaning in for a swift kiss, catching his lower lip between your teeth as you pull away.

“Good.” His head falls back onto the sofa as your lips trail down his neck curiously, mouthing at the slope of his adam’s apple. Just because you can. “Send it to me.”

“Good,” you murmur, breath hitching in your throat as his hands curl over your waist, skimming the hem of your sweatshirt. “We’re doing this, then.” 

“Most definitely.” With how throaty his voice has gotten as you reach his clavicle, a gentle explorer, you’re not sure words will be your allies for much longer.

“Will you be my boyfriend then, Mr. CEO?” you ask playfully, tasting the words in your mouth. Victor makes a soft, content sound in his throat. 

“I’m all yours,” he affirms, relishing the words in his mouth, raising his head to look at you through hooded eyes. You both know it, just a little, but saying the words brings a giddy, vulnerable sort of feeling with them. “And you…”

With no need for hope, just certainty, you rise up to kiss him softly. 

“I’m yours.” 

BTS:

Goldman stares at Jason in horrified disbelief, shocked by the words that had just left the director’s mouth. He glances at his boss, whose only reaction had been to cock a brow. 

“Would you be open to replacing Kai?”

“I’m...not really one for such shows,” Victor says, quite delicately in Goldman’s opinion, knowing the man usually has no qualms about being savagely blunt.

“I’m aware. I just thought it would be something different, something that would let people see a different side of you,” Jason explains, still completely at ease. 

Victor’s expression makes it quite clear he doesn’t care about people seeing other sides of him.

“Who’s the other participant? Did Hollow come back?” Goldman asks, curious despite himself.  In his very personal opinion, which he will definitely be keeping to himself, it might be nice for Victor’s image if people saw he isn’t always heartless. 

“Oh, no. She didn’t,” Jason says pleasantly. But the look in his eyes is almost hawklike as he keeps them locked on Victor. “I asked Y/n to do it instead. She agreed.” 

Now, to the untrained eye, Victor gives no outward reaction to that statement. 

But Goldman sees the way his brow twitches, the way his lips purse the slightest bit. He wonders if Jason, as a director with many years of experience under his belt, caught it too. 

“She agreed?” Victor asks, sounding as if he doesn’t quite believe it. 

“Yes,” Jason answers, suddenly distracted as he glances at his wristwatch. He sighs, a touch too dramatic to be convincing, but Goldman doesn’t think Victor cares about that. “But I understand. We wouldn’t want you to do something you’re not interested in. I have to go check on her, we’ll keep you updated.”

Something is happening here, Goldman realizes. Jason isn’t rushing out, but seems to be waiting for something. 

Victor, staring at the surface of the coffee table, is struggling. 

Goldman struggles too. He struggles not to roll his eyes in abject exasperation, to pray for divine patience. Why is he like this? Of course, to step into such an obvious trap surely goes against all the instincts he’s honed over the years, but none of that matters when it comes to the delicate matters of the heart! 

Instead, he catches Jason’s eyes, pushing his glasses up his nose, eyes glinting. 

“But who else would you ask to step in on such short notice?” Goldman asks, pointedly. 

And finally, Goldman holds his breath as the ghost of a smirk passes over Jason’s mouth.

This is it.

“Oh, it shouldn’t be a problem. Y/n said she could call Professor Lucien, having already guessed Victor wouldn’t be, um, up for it. She really knows you well, huh?” Jason informs them cheerfully, and even Goldman isn’t expecting that. He thought Jason would go for the ‘who will help poor y/n’ route.

It’s obvious manipulation, and they all know it. Knowing Victor, he will stubbornly refuse to give in and suffer for it. At least, the way he’s glaring at Jason seems to indicate that.

Goldman rushes through several justifications in his head, forming a rapidly coherent argument as to why he should do it, carefully keeping ‘if you don’t want to see her with someone else, suck it up’ and ‘please, please, watching you sulk is really sad I can’t do it’ off the list. 

Surely, Victor wouldn’t let the sexy professor sweep you off your feet? He’s heard the man talk, that kind of smooth talk should not be allowed and holy hell, Jason has played this really well. 

“They do get along well, so it should work,” Jason muses, slathering a little more icing on his three-tier cake of clear-cut manipulation, drama, and subterfuge.

“I’ll do it.” It’s said through a tightened jaw, but it rings clear in the silence of the room. Goldman abandons his mental speech, head whipping around to stare at Victor.

“Oh?” Jason sounds genuinely surprised, as if he hadn’t been aiming for this from the start. 

“Yes,” comes the answer, leaving no room for argument. 

“Are you sure?” Jason asks, oddly somber, finally abandoning the pretense. So he is in possession of some morals, who would have thought?

“Give me the briefing,” Victor says, shoulders set in a firm, determined line Goldman is all too familiar with. 

Jason relaxes into his seat, relief clear in his face. 

And as Victor turns to him, giving him specific instructions about his outfit, cologne and flowers, determined to do this right with that familiar, besotted spark in his eye, Goldman feels warm pride trickle in. 

‘We’re gonna get you the girl, boss.’

Aaaaaaand...CUT. 

I know the last behind the scenes thing wasn’t really needed but I had to 

Thank you for reading, I hope you liked it!