#I need to let go of that damn sketch I'm always on that damn sketch. GRRRRR

[dragoncarrion]

quick dinobot. not sure what direction i wanted to take this in. Anyway i ljke him ❤️

[pomefioredove]

Omg hiii! I saw that your requests were open again! Please take your time and prioritize your rest, and as always your writing is such a delight to read! I always look forward to your posts! 💖💖💖

That being said, can you please write for a Yuu/reader that has a love for painting (but is shy about showcasing their skill) , and was absolutely taken by Vil's beauty even before they met him? Of course they didn't know that he was a famous actor at first. What if Vil one day finds their sketches and paintings of him after months of knowing him? (hmm preferably after the events of book 6..? 👀)

SO CUTE!!! kicking my legs back and forth at this anonnn

*ੈ���‧₊˚ the picture of vil schoenheit

type of post: short fic characters: vil additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu

How were you supposed to know?

It's not like Crowley had given you a guide on Night Raven College or its students (though, wouldn't that have been nice?)

I mean, you had to reminded of Trey's last name not two weeks ago. How were you supposed to know who Vil Schoenheit is?

You'd only seem him at a distance. Passed him by in the halls while he scolded some poor first year. He even looked beautiful when he was angry.

He was just made to be painted.

You didn't show your friends the art. You didn't need to give Ace another reason to tease you, and being a stalker would've really been the cherry on top of your weirdness sundae.

Besides, it was just drawing. Practice! Sketches from a distance, doodles done in the margins of your notes, watercolors and paintings from memory...

It felt familiar. This man, this stranger, someone you hadn't even spoken to, made you feel a little closer to home.

.

"Really, you should have some sort of organizational system,"

Vil leafs through pages of alchemy reports and history of magic homework. "Might I suggest a recycling bin?"

You smile. It's not often that your friend- Vil Schoenheit, that is- has a day off. But today is Saturday, and your room is in desperate need of his touch.

"This is... chaotic," he says, brushing a clump of Grim fur off his shoulder. "And you live like this?"

You shrug. "I try,"

"Well, try no more. We'll have this done before dinner,"

His commitment is touching. Millions of screeching fangirls would give anything just to spend five minutes with Vil, and here he is, tidying your room for you.

It's almost cute. He's humming to himself, hair tied back in a ponytail, in one of your shirts (his are too nice to get dirty), sweeping Grim fur out from under your bed.

"Rook and Epel couldn't make it?" you ask, pretending not to care that it's just the two of you.

"I told them not to bother,"

"Oh?"

Vil tsks. "They would get in the way. We're much more efficient on our own- we work well together, after all,"

That's something he'd said before. You'd always wondered what it meant.

"Right,"

You switch places, going to strip your bed of its sheets for washing while Vil tidies your desk.

Off go the pillow cases, the comforter, the blankets. You're wrestling with your mattress when you notice that he hasn't moved in a while.

He's looking through some of the papers from within the bowels of your desk, smiling to himself, a finger held to his perfect lips.

"What?"

"Hm?" he hums, but he doesn't look at you. "Oh, just... admiring your work. You have quite an eye for detail, have I ever told you that?"

He's being weird. You let go of your bundle of bedding and look at what he's holding, but it's just your sketchbook.

Oh. Oh, no. It's your sketchbook.

"OH! Um, wait-" you say, rushing to his side. "Don't- don't look!"

Vil smirks, and he holds the art over your head. "How unfair. The muse should always be the first to see, you know,"

Damn his height and perfect, slender arms!!! Your eyes widen. "It's not what it looks like! I didn't know you when I did those!"

"Yes, I saw the dates. You could make a career out of admiring me, you know~" he chuckles. "I'd pay for these. I'm sure Rook would like a few, as well."

You're practically melting with embarrassment. "Come on- give it back!"

Seeing your pathetic, embarrassed whining, Vil relents, handing you the sketchbook with an eye-roll.

"What are you ashamed of? They're fine pieces,"

"It's not that," you clutch the book to your chest. "It's just- uh- weird, isn't it?"

Vil scoffs. "I'm weird?"

"NO! I meant- I didn't even know you, and I drew you almost every day- that isn't... strange?"

He takes a moment to study you, your body language, the embarrassed look on your face. From head to toe. And then he smiles, warmly.

"I am in a dorm with Rook. There are very, very few things that I find strange now. You admire me- I'm flattered,"

He gingerly takes sketchbook out of your arms and opens it again. "Not to mention, you have an artistic eye that any director would kill for."

You stand there, a little dumbfounded, but mostly very, very grateful that he's your friend, and that you can laugh about this together.

"I'm... well... thank you," you finally say.

Vil smirks, and pinches your cheek. "You're precious. Now, back to work. I want this room over with. These paintings won't frame themselves, will they?"

[brittle-doughie]

Hello! Hello! I'm a shy cookie run artist Just dropping a silly summer sketch of Benign butter cookie since I liked their design a lot :))!!

(I think that they secretly (or not) enjoys to go fishing so.. i drew them like that. Maybe they enjoyed go to at some kind of beach day (in a day off) with the beasts when they weren't corrupted yet like, mystic flour Refusing to get off the beach umbrella shadow or eternal sugar was playing with shadow milk with water soda).

I also think that since they're basically butter I think that in hot days they hair just melts. A silly HC though.)

I'm so sorry if it's cringe or something. I'm not used to this things... (Sorry if bad English)

Ayo @ax0lotly , it’s fishing season

You: “Come on, Mystic Flour Cookie. Why not have fun out in the sun with us?”

Mystic Flour Cookie: I am afraid that I cannot join you. The sun will show no kindness to my dough. I will wait for you here under the umbrella…

You: “Ok…how about you, Eternal Sugar Cookie? You always like doing things with me.”

Eternal Sugar Cookie: “Forgive me, my love. I don’t want to get in the way of how handsome/beautiful you look as you fish. You wear that outfit wonderfully!”

You: “Burning Spice, Silent Salt. I feel like I don’t even need to ask with you two, hehe.

Burning Spice Cookie: “Damn it, give us a minute! We’re so close to building this large sandcastle! Silent Salt Cookie, structure your side more firmly!”

Silent Salt Cookie: “…..” (Silent Salt nodded as they patted down their side of the sandcastle.)

You: “Ok, don’t take too long! I want us to catch as many fish as possible together!”

Your fishing line tugged suddenly! You got one! You start to slowly reel it in, you didn’t want to risk lose it!

You pulled it in…pulling…pulling…THERE! You lifted up your line to see…a willing fish? You rolled your eyes with a knowing smile.

You: “Shadow Milk Cookie…”

The cookie himself poofed right next you.

Shadow Milk Cookie: “Yes, love?”

Him and his pet names!

You: “Shadow Milk Cookie, you know it’s not true fishing if the fish come to me so easily. Let me fish them naturally!”

Shadow Milk Cookie: “Oh, but why would I want to see a frown on my dearest’s face. Your smile is what inspires me to get morning, it’s what I want to see now…”

You: “Oh you~!”

You and Shadow Milk laugh as you two held each other in a hug. This garners the attention of the others.

Eternal Sugar Cookie: “My love, I’m coming down now!”

Mystic Flour Cookie: “On second thought, if that’s your wish, then I must do everything I can to grant it.”

Burning Spice Cookie: “We’re done! Heading over to you now!”

Silent Salt Cookie: “…..!“ (Silent Salt nodded vigorously as they followed after Burning Spice.)

Shadow Milk Cookie: “Now now, everyone. I was here first!”

You sigh with content as your friends head over to your fishing spot.

Fishing is always fun with friends!

[dixons-sunshine]

I Never Lived For The Applause | Daryl Dixon x Former!Celebrity!Fem!Reader

Summary: Before the world quite literally ended, you were a famously known singer. However, your celebrity status didn't do you much good in the apocalypse, despite most people in your group giving you privileges that you didn't want. Thankfully, a certain redneck archer treated you like a normal person, unwillingly becoming the guy who caught your attention.

Genre: Angst, fluff.

Era: The quarry; the farm; the prison.

Warnings: Swearing, usual TWD warnings, suggestive themes.

Word count: 3.9k.

A/n: Okay but the former!celebrity!reader x Daryl was such a unique idea that an anon requested! I never would've thought about that on my own. I thought that this idea would be great combined with a few other requests, and this was born. There's a few time jumps and this is honestly not the best. I scrapped over 1500 words and this is all over the place, and it was supposed to be smut, and I don't really like this, but I hope you like it nonetheless.

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

Before the apocalypse came to be, you were a famous singer and songwriter. You had multiple hit singles that made the charts and your concerts always sold out. It seemed like wherever you would turn, there would be someone there who would want an autograph or a picture. It seemed like you could never escape the spotlight.

Not even now, when the dead started rising and the world came to an end.

“Amy, I told you, I'm fine. I don't want your food. You need it more than I do.”

Amy shook her head defiantly, practically shoving the paper plate into your hands. “I insist. You're my idol, and I'll be damned if I let my idol go hungry when I have food I can give her.”

You sighed and reluctantly accepted the plate. “This is unnecessary. I already had my share, sweetheart. You don't have to give me yours when you also have to eat.”

��I'm fine. Rather me than you.”

Before you could protest, Andrea called Amy's name. Amy gave you an apologetic smile and bid you farewell, walking over to her sister and leaving you alone with your thoughts. You sighed and turned around, heading over to the tent you shared with your daughter. You opened the flap and stepped inside, seeing your twelve year old daughter, Nicolette, busy sketching in her sketchbook.

She looked up when she heard you step inside, sending you a smile. “Hi, Mom.”

“Hey, Nic,” you greeted her, sitting down on your cot opposite hers. “Why aren't you outside with the other kids?”

Nicolette shook her head, closing her sketchbook and sitting up in her cot. “Most of them treat me funny. They keep asking me if I can sing or if I can write songs, and if I got free stuff because you were famous. Only Carl and Sophia treat me like I'm a normal kid, but they're with their mom's right now.”

You sighed, guilt gnawing at you from the inside. Never once did you regret having your daughter, but sometimes you regretted having to raise her while you were in the spotlight. The paparazzi were relentless, and your daughter more often than not had to pay the price for that. It was unfair, and you wished that you could've just faded from the spotlight to raise your daughter in peace.

“I'm sorry, baby. If I knew back then what my fame could do to you, I never would have signed on with that record label. I wish I could take it back.”

Nicolette shook her head. She got up from her cot and sat down next to you, leaning her head on your shoulder. You wrapped your arms around her, placing a tender kiss on her head.

“It's not your fault, Mom. I don't blame you. You shouldn't, either.”

You shook your head. “That's easier said than done,” you replied, before adopting a more lighthearted tone. “But let's not talk about that. I've got some more food for you if you're hungry.”

Nicolette smiled at you and nodded eagerly. “I'm starving. Thanks, Mom.”

You smiled at her. However, before you could respond, a ruckus could be heard outside your tent. Both yours and your daughter's heads snapped in the direction of the two voices, instantly going quiet to hear what was happening.

“M'tellin ya, man. S'a fuckin' waste of time. We should jus' cut our losses here and scram. Take a few guns and food fer the road.”

“Merle, fer the last fuckin' time, we can't leave righ' now. It's too dangerous. We should wait 'til the heat dies down 'fore we go.”

“Wha' m'hearin' s'tha' yer a pussy. Wha's the matter, Darylina? Scared the geeks will get ya? 'Cause yer too incompetent to handle 'em?”

“Fuck off, Merle! It ain't like tha'. I jus' dun' wanna risk our lives if we dun' need to.”

“Whatever, man. M'goin' back to the tent.”

The man who's name you had learnt to be Merle left, his retreating footsteps growing fainter until you couldn't hear them anymore. However, you could clearly see the silhouette of the other man still outside your tent. You could hear him quietly muttering to himself.

Turning to Nicolette, you gently placed the plate with the food—cooked squirrel with some beans—onto her lap and stood up. You turned to her and leaned down to place a sweet kiss to her forehead.

“Eat up and get ready for bed. I'll be right back and then we'll continue reading that book.”

Nicolette nodded, and with that, you exited your tent. The man stood with his back to you, but a simple slight twitch of his head in your direction showed that he had heard you. His body stiffened visibly, and you frowned at that.

“Hey. You're Daryl, right?” you asked him, prompting the man to turn around.

However, he didn't meet your gaze, finding great interest in the ground below. He simply grunted his acknowledgement, a slight upwards nudge of his nose confirming your question.

“I'm Y/n. It's nice to officially meet you,” you introduced yourself, extending your hand to his for a handshake. Daryl made no move to shake it, however, making you awkwardly retract your hand. “I, uh, just wanted to say that you were right.”

“Wha'?” Daryl asked in confusion, his eyebrows furrowing. He hadn't meant for the question to slip from his lips, trying to just remain quiet until you got the message that he was in no mood to socialise, but he failed.

“That argument you had with your brother. You were right. It's way too dangerous to wander off on your own right now. Personally I feel like you shouldn't be wanting to go at all because it's safer with a group, but that's not my call to make. Just thought I'd let you know that your instincts are right. Don't listen to your brother.”

Daryl was confused by your niceness. He was even more confused by the fact that you agreed with him. He was so used to women taking Merle's side instead of his all the time, so this was something entirely new for him.

“Oh, uh, thanks,” he replied awkwardly, nervously chewing on his lower lip.

You smiled at him before nodding. “Okay, well, just wanted to tell you that. Oh, and to ask you not to argue in front of my tent again. I have a twelve year old in there who doesn't need to hear all of that.”

Daryl ducked his head, an embarrassed blush flushing over his face. “Sorry.”

“I guess I can let it slide this time,” you said with a smile. “And thanks for the squirrel. Thanks to you, my daughter doesn't have to go to bed hungry tonight. Never thought we'd have to resort to eating squirrel, but it's not that bad. It's actually kinda delicious. It's way better than—” Realising that you were busy rambling, you shook your head and gave him an apologetic smile. “Sorry. Just, thank you.”

Daryl didn't know why, but he felt an unexplainable pull to you. Maybe it was the way you showed him kindness without even knowing him, or maybe it was the fact that you were the only one who seemed to actually appreciate the food he brought back from his hunts, even if it was squirrels. Despite their hunger, everyone else mostly refused to eat anything he brought back if it wasn't deer. Yet there you were, thanking him for bringing back something as mediocre as squirrel.

And it certainly didn't help that he found you absolutely radiant.

“S'nothin',” he finally responded. “M'jus' glad yer lil' girl can eat tonigh'.”

“You're the one who brought back the squirrels?”

At the sound of a small voice, both you and Daryl turned around to face your daughter. Nicolette walked up to your side and beamed brightly up at Daryl, catching him off guard. The other kids in the camp were terrified of him and wouldn't even glance in his direction, yet this kid was not only looking at him, but willingly talking to him.

“Yes, he is,” you confirmed, smiling fondly down at your daughter.

Nicolette looked up at Daryl, realisation dawning on her. “You're the man with the crossbow! And the vest with the angel wings! You're so cool, sir. Do you think I could maybe shoot your crossbow one time? It's okay if you say no, but can I maybe see how you shoot it so that when I get my own crossbow one day, I know how to use it? Or—”

Daryl's lips subconsciously twitched up into a smile. Her rambling was so similar to yours. Like mother, like daughter, he thought to himself as he looked between the two of you. There were over a dozen similarities between you and Nicolette. She looked just like you.

You placed a hand on Nicolette's shoulder, halting her rambling. You turned to Daryl, giving him a smile. “We should probably get ready for bed. Goodnight, Daryl.”

“Night, Daryl!” Nicolette greeted him enthusiastically, following you into the tent.

“Night,” he whispered.

“Oh, and by the way, don't be a stranger. I'd love to see more of you.”

Daryl blushed and ducked his head. He hummed, not trusting his voice at that moment in time.

You smiled and finally entered the tent, zipping the tent closed behind you. He stood there for a couple of moments before turning and walking back to his own shared tent with Merle.

Daryl couldn't explain it, but for some reason, in that short conversation, he felt drawn to you. It was unnerving, but felt nice at the same time. And your daughter was downright an angel, your exact copy.

“Wha' were ya doin', sniffin' 'round tha' popstar?” Merle asked when Daryl entered the tent, catching him off guard. Daryl had assumed that Merle would've been passed out by now, high off of whatever drug he was using that night.

“Popstar? Wha' the hell are ya talkin' 'bout?” Daryl questioned, plopping himself down on his cot.

“Tha' woman ya were talkin' to, she was a singer 'fore all this. Real famous, too. Used to see her on TV and in magazine's all the time.”

Daryl's mind swarmed with questions. You were a famous singer? How the hell did you end up there, with a bunch of nobodies? And why had you thanked him for bringing back something as simple as a squirrel? If you were famous, you had probably eaten banquets of the richest, most delicious food out there, yet you enjoyed squirrel? And to top it off, why would you willingly want to hang out with him of all people?

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

“Daryl, oh my god.”

At the sound of your panicked voice, Daryl slowly sat upright in the bed in the guest bedroom. He looked up and locked eyes with you, seeing the worry written all over your face. You hurriedly sat down on the edge of the bed next to him and gingerly reached out to touch the bandage around his side, careful not to add too much pressure and hurt him.

“M'fine, sunshine. Dun' have to worry 'bout me,” he replied, waving off your concern and gently grabbing your hand to push it away from the bandage.

You scoffed in disbelief and shook your head. “You're my friend, Daryl. Of course I'm going to worry about you. I care about you, and you expect me to not worry?” you asked, bringing your hand up to gently caress his cheek.

Friend. That word reminded Daryl of how you viewed him. It had been two months since your first interaction at the quarry and his affection and attraction to you had only grown stronger. However, it seemed to him like his feelings weren't reciprocated, so he settled on being your friend.

Little did he know that you felt the exact same way. You just didn't know it yet.

“Heard ya punched Andrea fer shootin' me. Any truth to those rumours?” Daryl asked, diverting the attention away from his now pounding heart as your fingers gently pushed his hair back.

You smiled sheepishly. “My hand slipped?” you tried, shrugging your shoulders.

Daryl smirked slightly and shook his head. “Sure. Whatever ya say, sunshine.”

You let out a sigh, reluctantly drawing your hand back from his hair. “She had it coming. We told her not to shoot and she didn't listen, trying to boost her own ego instead. She almost killed you, Daryl. That's not something she should be allowed to get away with, but Rick and Shane aren't gonna do anything, so I took matters into my own hands.”

Daryl smiled softly. “Not bad fer a popstar.”

You giggled. “Hey, I got into a couple of fights before my career took off. I know my stuff. I know how to shoot a gun, too, but that's a discussion for another day.”

Daryl chuckled and nodded. He shifted back against the headboard and gazed at you, simply admiring your beauty for a moment. It amazed him that a beautiful, kind, caring, smart woman like you would ever wanna be associated with the likes of him. You were perfect and he was, well, him. It didn't make sense, but he dared not to question it.

“Can I ask ya somethin' personal?” he blurted out before he could think about it.

You nodded at him. “Sure.”

“When ya talk 'bout yer career, it sounds like ya hated it. Why'd ya become a singer if ya hated it so much?”

You remained silent for a minute. Daryl feared that he had asked the wrong thing and was about to apologise, but you spoke up.

“I was nineteen when I signed with my first record label. I didn't want to be in the spotlight because singing was more of a hobby to me, but my parents forced me to. Growing up, there wasn't ever really any money around and my parents made it out like it was my fault. They made me feel like I owed them for everything they did for me, and they forced me to sign with that record label. My parents were my managers and all the money I earned for the songs I wrote and sang basically went to them. That went on for a couple of years until I met Nic's father. He was a bass player in a band I was collaborating with. I fell in love way too quickly, jumped into bed with him when he made an advancement and ended up pregnant. The guy didn't want kids and bolted, leaving me a single mom. My parents hated that and basically disowned me.”

“M'sorry to hear tha',” Daryl replied sympathetically. He didn't really know how to respond; he never knew that about you. You chose to keep your life before you had Nicolette private, and he respected that. He had his own demons he preferred to keep quiet.

“It's okay,” you reassured him, shaking your head. “He was an asshole. And I was better off without my parents. I managed to sign with a decent enough record label and the rest was history. I got a ton of backlash from haters for being a single mom. There were even rumours that I had cheated and that's why the guy left me, but that wasn't true. But none of that matters anymore. My reputation doesn't matter anymore. All that matters now is keeping my daughter safe and keeping the people I care about alive. People like you.”

“Ya shouldn't care 'bout me. S'a bad idea.”

“Well, bad idea or not, I care about you. And so does Nic.”

As if being summoned, Nicolette knocked on the door and hesitantly stepped inside. Daryl adjusted the covers over his body and sent her a tight-lipped smile. Nicolette gave him a small smile back but he could clearly tell it was strained. Her eyes were bloodshot from crying.

“Are you okay?” Nicolette asked, crossing her arms over her chest as if to make herself appear smaller.

“M'fine, kiddo. Dun' worry 'bout me,” he reassured her. “Hershel fixed me righ' up. I'll be outta here in no time.”

Nicolette looked to you for confirmation, and you nodded. “He's right. He'll be fine. Some antibiotics and he'll be up and at it in three days. You'll see.”

“Okay,” she nodded, her eyes flickering between you and Daryl. “I'm glad you're not dead, Daryl.”

Daryl chuckled at the girls forwardness. “M'glad m'not dead, too.”

You smiled at the small interaction between Daryl and Nicolette, your heart swelling with fondness. You stood up from the bed and motioned for Nicolette to follow you.

“C'mon, baby. Let's leave Daryl to get some rest, okay?”

“Actually, I was wondering if I could maybe stay?” she asked timidly, nervously fiddling with her hands. “It's just... I wanna stay.”

You looked at Daryl, and he shrugged nonchalantly. Despite his nonchalance, Daryl's heart swelled with fondness. This little girl, who owed him nothing, wanted to stay with him. He couldn't believe it.

“Okay, you can stay for a while. I'll be back later, okay?” you relented.

She nodded and sat down on the chair. You gave Daryl's hand one last squeeze before heading out, sparing one last look at the two. Nicolette was starting to retell some of the events of what her and Carl had gotten up to that day, and Daryl hummed in acknowledgement before looking up and locking eyes with you.

With one last parting smile, you headed out and made your way back to the tents. On your way there, a startling realisation hit you like a ton of bricks, one that would change the way you saw Daryl forever. Despite the fact that he could be snappy at times, and that he was known for being grumpy, he treated you with respect. He didn't care about who you were before the end of the world. He didn't care about your mistakes, about if you were famous or not. That didn't matter to him. He only saw you, the person behind the old tabloids, and he had become close with your daughter. He even took the time out of his day to teach her how to use his crossbow, even if she was a slow learner. And in that moment, you realised something:

You had feelings for him.

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

“Y'know, m'glad Nic didn't have to meet her father. She's better off.”

You turned your head to Daryl, a look of confusion spreading across your features. “I agree with you, but why do you say that? You didn't know the man.”

Daryl shrugged, taking a drag from his cigarette and blowing the smoke away from you. “Ya said back at Hershel's tha' he never wanted kids. If he had stuck 'round, god knows wha' he would've done to her.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, turning your attention back to the darkness ahead of you. “She is better off.”

The night was relatively quiet, save for the distant sound of walkers groaning outside the prison's fences.  Daryl was on watch that night in the guard tower, and you had taken the initiative to join the archer that night. Everyone else had retreated into the prison for the night, leaving only you and Daryl awake.

“So are we gon' tell Nic 'bout us or not?” Daryl broke the silence, taking the last drag from his cigarette before putting it out next to him. “S'been over a month now. She deserves to know.”

Unbidden, flashes of that night a month ago arose in your mind. The feeling of his lips on yours, his hands exploring your body and the way he felt pressed against you. The feeling of your bodies becoming one was one that you wouldn't forget anytime soon, but the one memory you'd hold with you forever was the confession from the man next to you. After the heated, pleasurable moment you'd spent together, feelings were revealed, and you and the archer had unofficially started your relationship. You had both agreed to keep it a secret, but Nicolette was starting to get suspicious about the two of you.

“I'm okay with telling her tomorrow. She deserves to finally have confirmation on her suspicions,” you told him, leaning your head against his shoulder. “She already sees you as her dad, anyways.”

Daryl couldn't argue with that. Flashes of his own arose in his mind. A couple of days ago, he had returned from a run, battered and bruised. He could barely walk and both you and Nicolette were distraught. However, after he was patched up and resting in his cell and you were up in the guard tower for your shift, Nicolette had come to him in tears. He had hugged her tightly to his chest, acutely aware that she was transported back to that day on the farm when he had been shot. That night was the night Nicolette had confirmed that she saw Daryl as a father figure.

“Please don't leave. My mom needs you. I need you. We both need you in our lives. Please, Daryl.”

In that moment, even though she didn't know yet that you and Daryl were together, he knew that he wouldn't be able to live without either of you. You both were his entire world. Nicolette was his little girl. You were his partner, and there was no way he was letting either of you go.

“Dun' worry, Nic. I ain't goin' nowhere. I promise ya tha'.”

Shaken from his thoughts by your lips on his exposed shoulder, he turned his head to you, coming face to face with a mischievous smirk. He instantly knew what that smirk meant, and he helped you climb onto his lap.

“But,” you began, pulling his attention back to your previous discussion. “Let's worry about that tomorrow. Tonight, it's just me and you.”

Daryl smirked and attached his lips to yours. You may have been a popstar before the apocalypse, a celebrity living in a mansion, but in that moment, you were simply you. The woman Daryl cared for deeply, the woman Daryl was never gonna let go of.

Because in that moment, you were nothing but his.

[inexplicifics]

Hiya! I was wondering if you’d been having any luck making the Cats Among Wolves bunnies cooperate lately? If not, that’s cool. Plot bunnies are not the most cooperative creatures, but I figured I’d ask. I was also curious about what the writing process usually looks like for you if you were willing to explain it a bit. Do you tend to jump around between projects just following the inspiration, or do you write out at least a whole scene or chapter before letting yourself move around? How many times do you usually send a fic to Rose for betaing before you feel ready to release it? I always find different people’s processes so interesting.

So Cats Among Wolves is mostly not cooperating at the moment - I am weirdly low on Brain and the bunnies are not doing long-form very well just now. But here's a snippet from the Cedric & Axel fic:

Fuck, this is good, Cedric opines, sipping greedily at the soup Gaetan is holding for him. “The old Wolf knows his way around a kitchen,” Gaetan agrees, nodding. “I think I gained most of a stone the first winter I spent here.” “You needed it,” Eskel puts in. “All you Cats are too damn scrawny.” “Wolves are just absurdly big,” Gaetan sniffs. “And what are Vipers, then?” Eskel - teases. And Gaetan is grinning. Axel has never seen Gaetan so relaxed around an alpha before. Not even Cedric. But there’s not even a hint of tension in his littlest brother. He’s utterly unafraid. “Vipers are mostly perfectly normal sizes, Letho’s just special,” Gaetan says cheerfully. Letho smirks.

As to my writing process - oh gods, it's like a pogo stick. I often have eight or ten docs open, and I create a new WIP at least three times a week. (I am very easy to plotbunny. And I am surrounded by enablers.) I write until I get stuck and then I go to something else. Sometimes, if something really grabs me, I can get a whole longfic out in a week; sometimes I have to come back to it again and again until it clicks. My personal feeling is that as long as words are ending up in a row, it's all good.

I don't outline. Outlines kill fic for me. Once I've written down what's going to happen, why bother writing it again? Even for something like MBtT, I had the very loosest possible sketch of the plot and the desired relationships. I also can't estimate how long a fic is going to be to save my life. I thought MBtT was going to be 50K. I have to very deliberately keep from putting plot into things like prompt fills and flash fics, because once I've added plot, that fic isn't getting done in less than 10K.

I usually send the fic to Rose when it's completely done, and then do a pass through it once she's left comments, fixing all the plot holes she finds. Then she checks my work and I put it in the posting queue.

One thing I have found that helps me is that I color-code my docs. Blue is in progress, purple is ready for beta, and green is ready to be posted. It makes it easier for me to track things visually.

The other thing that really helps is cheer-readers. Because I try to only post finished fics, sometimes I'll start wondering if what I'm writing is really any good. Rose and Twist and Ray have all been wonderful at Encouraging me enthusiastically to keep going, and suggesting directions when I get stuck. Cheer-readers are great and I encourage writers to find them if they can.

Hope that was interesting!

[vividvivy]

Heya^^ could we get some romantic headcanons about kaiser, shidou and isagi having a artist/painter prodigy s/o?

Of course you can exclude anyone if it's too much! Anyways I hope you'll have a wonderful day or night and don't forget to hydrate^^

Notes: Hellooo! First request, I'm so happy oh my gosh. I had some trouble so I'll do the rest in separate parts, hope you don't mind!! 41°C here it's so hot omg. You stay safe and hydrated too!! Also sorry it's messy, I'm still trying to improve and I hope you'll like this! 😭

Pairing: Isagi Yoichi x Reader

Type: Headcanons

Genre: Fluff, Romance

Isagi Yoichi with an Art Prodigy S/O ♡︎

He leaves you for the damn ball.

JOKE.. I'M JOKING GUYS..

Would be the most understanding and considerate among the three. I'm not sure if Yoichi will actually understand, but he's still super supportive and would listen to you and assist you when you need any help or company.

Dates with him are so cozy and peaceful.

He'd stay in an art studio or any room at all and sketch and paint with you all day long. 

I think he'd be the type to try and draw you flowers or try to make you (+ him TOGETHER!!)

He'd be over the moon if you agreed to craft anything matching him. Something simple like paper rings, matching pins or brooches, and drawings of each other!!

Would put a drawing you made or a printed pic of you in his clear case.

His phone would be you-themed. Just you, him and your work.

Bonus: If you met as schoolmates or before Blue Lock, he'd try to make small silly doodles for you in class, and if you handed him any doodles, he'd sometimes cut them and place them in his ID case or hang them in his locker and use some of them as bookmarks.

Takes you shopping (would definitely randomly buy Art supplies that caught his eye and give them to you) or anywhere at all!!

His favourite place to stay would probably be in a café or restaurant that isn't too fancy, just somewhere with cute, homey vibes and a picturesque view.

He's TRYING to keep up with you when you invite him to paint together.. (Keyword: He's trying his best.) It definitely isn't the best thing out there but A for effort.

Tbh he always improves so quickly it's scary and makes you envious and proud sometimes..

If it bothers you and he notices, he'd act more clueless on purpose and would let you just guide him??

HAS A SEPARATE SKETCH BOOK WHERE HE KEEPS HIS DRAWINGS OF YOU!!

Made a little scrapbook dedicated to the 2 of u <3

He really REAAALLY admires you and your work.

In his eyes, you and your work are the best there are aside from soccer and being the best striker there is. He could stare at your papers and canvases hung up or scattered all day, admiring each stroke and line, even the finest ones, and looking at each shaded and highlighted area in awe.

His deep blue eyes shine so brightly when they meet your paintings and illustrations, yet no other sea of stars could replicate the shine seen in his gaze when completely in awe.  In awe of you.

When you're experiencing any artblocks or frustrations regarding it, he'd be your number one helper.

If it's a better environment and inspiration you need, he'd immediately try to take you places and show you works that you've made before for more inspo. Would try taking you to a soccer field or any open area outdoors too.

Barely knows what he's doing but he's got the spirit guys!!

During hard times, he'd be the first to go by your side and help you.

Would try to be the one to pull you out when all the stress and expectations swallow you whole (Again he's TRYING but all his attempts are most likely clumsy and slightly flawed..)

[firegirl888101]

how would the harbingers react to a reader who's good at drawing? like, they like to draw the harbingers or other things

Good at drawing?

I'm shit at drawing so I'm not really sure what to say, that's why I didn't reply to this for awhile. But, I eventually got a couple things when my friend was sketching some stuff in front of me.

Sorry that the current Insatiable Madness chapter is taking so long, I've been studying a lot these past couple of days.

I also got another ask where it asked about Halloween. I don't really celebrate Halloween, because I never grew up with it. I've always been too shy to trick-or-treat and I didn't have many friends (and still don't) who'd want to go with me. Quite sad actually, but it's alright. I don't think I missed out on much.

Is anyone expecting me to make a Halloween special? I don't mind doing it, but I'll need inspiration as I wouldn't know where to start 💀

Actually, the more I think about it, I do have one fun idea. (Harbingers going trick-or-treating??? Halloween party if that even exists? Idk, I'll have to do some research.)

|You can take this with Yandere and without - some will probably lean towards yan though.|

So, to begin with:

Pierro wouldn't be too bothered. I feel if Y/N had a skill they were confident in, and wanted to show it, he'd let his curiousity get the better of him and check it out. But, if it's something like drawing he'll probably leave a comment then leave. Whether it's positive or negative, you be the judge. This man is like a slate slab. No personality I'm sorry 😭😭 (When I see more of his character, maybe I'll like him more?)

If you were to draw this man, he'd be humbled. A Grandpa who received his very first present from his grandchild. Would definitely frame the damn thing in his office (which originally was your parent's) he'd put it on the desk. It's his office now, don't argue for it back.

Capitano would show interest. Not too much since he's the main captain of the Fatui, but still interested. If he's bored, or deems the 'fort' (the house) safe, he'll sit down with you and watch what you're doing. Occasionally asking you if he could doodle with you - but I think that would be very rare. His main objective in his mind is guarding you when your own is low whilst you're having fun, doodling or drawing something.

Would 100% deny the picture of him at first. He'd think, that looks like me, but it can't be. Yes, it's him, you'd reassure. Eventually he does take it and folds it in his coat. After that, he'd probably leave the room in embarrassment. Since then on, he'd definitely keep all drawings you've made of him in his pocket. There's too many? Let's put it in the second pocket. That's full too? Looks like he's buying a new coat. Oh? There's room in his military coat he hasn't worn in two years? That'll do just nicely.

Dottore would be intrigued if he saw you practice anatomy - or if you drew more of a gorey scene. I think he'd be even more interested if you liked to draw the human body with extra things (such as arms, legs, eyes or even got rid of a few), and question you on your design choices and if it already exists somewhere. (He's not fooling you, he's obviously taking inspirations for a new experiment). If he didn't know, or wasn't good, he'd probably ask for tips on how to sketch ideas like yours. He reassures you it's not for any experimentation but once again, he's not fooling you at all.

If you were to draw him he'd treat it like glass. Nobody has ever given him a sketch before - bonus points if you draw him injured whilst you're angry with him. He'd treat it as if you drew him with love, and not as if you'd stab him in the heart if you ever got the chance. What do you mean he shouldn't like it this much? It's a work of art! He'd be very quick to correct the drawing if you got anything wrong. Who knows what this man has in his body at this point.

Columbina would join you in your drawing activities. Maybe add some glitter if you have any. The second you complain about cleaning up, however, she has somehow disappeared and has become very forgetful about the events upstairs. 'How curious!~' She would hum to herself with her usual smile. Is definitely the type to ask if you could draw her. Who are you to refuse? Especially when she gives you that look of daunt hope and kindness which makes you drop your pen in fear. Before you can give her an answer, you've already picked up your pencil and began to sketch her beautiful headpiece.

When Columbina receives her multiple sketches, she's overjoyed. Oh, look how you drew this part! How you drew her clothes! She's quick to kiss you on the cheek as a thank you and runs off somewhere. Huh, you feel like you've just been used.

Arlecchino will roll her eyes at first. She's seen many children in the hearth draw for her. Her initial thoughts were vague, she didn't really see much of your hobby. That was until she actually saw what you were drawing. She would stare as you worked, your pencil delicately brushing against the paper you most likely bought the other day. It soon will become a habit to watch you work, becoming a therapeutic source for her. She sometimes questions why you're drawing... certain things, but she wouldn't actually stop your creative mind from working.

Handing Arlecchino the drawing you drew of her would make her blood rise to her cheeks slightly. Sure, she's received a lot of gifts in this sense before. But from you? What an honour! She'll accept it with a soft smile she'd usually show the kids, and pat your head treating you like one. Little do you know she's trying so hard to control her cute agression response by not tearing the paper.

Pulcinella would react very similarly to Pierro. However, he'd have more experience with complimenting and encouraging 'a child' in a hobby they're having fun with. If he saw your skill, he'd probably compliment it whole-heartedly with a chuffed smile. Massaging his mustache like some aristocrat, in the 1940s... Anyway, he'd be very pleased when he watches you draw more and more. He's happy that you're spending your time doing something you like under the tense situation his coworkers (and him, but he doesn't like to admit it) have brought upon you.

I do not see you drawing this man at all. He's a short, dobby, old, looking as man. I don't see him as the type to ask either, at all. He's minding his own business in your house and plans to keep it that way until the situation is resolved.

Scaramouche really doesn't care. We've all got our own likes and dislikes, but he's not bothered about yours. Will most likely purposefully pass by you working on a piece and insult it just to get attention. He'd never actually mean it though - he just never tells you that important fact. As time progresses he'll sneak into your room just to look at more sketches or finished drawings you've done, and assess your progress from each year if you've been practicing for a long time-period.

Now, here's where things get interesting. If you were to draw him and never show it to him, said puppet finding it for himself in one of your drawers, he'd first feel angry. Why wouldn't you show him this? It's of him! ...But then he'd quickly realise it's because of the way he treated you when you were working (oops). If you actually handed it to him and let him keep it, he'd be delighted. You actually drew him? He didn't even have to manipu-- he means 'ask' you to draw him? This is a good step forward to where he wants to be in your heart.

Sandrone would be delighted to know that she's finally found a use for you in her head. She never thought that purposefully walking past you one evening would lead to her shuffling through all the sketches and designs you've done with awe. Where did you get this idea from? How can she recreate it? Would you be happier and more devoted to her if she were to make your dreams true? She digresses. Watching your creative little mind draw your ideas to life inspires her also, and makes her want to recruit you as a special exception to the 'no non-artificial beings' allowed in her workshop. Thinking of all the monstrosities you could design with her help sends pleasurable shivers up her spine.

Drawing her, however? This was rather unprecedented. Out of all the things-- no, people you could have drawn... and you decide on her? And ooh! You even drew her slave she likes to travel around on, how thoughtful, you're already expressing your adoration for her works! Trust me, don't draw her. You'll give her daydreams that will never happen.

Signora, like most of the harbingers, wouldn't care at first. She hates your house and hates your world, why in Teyvat's name would she be interested in what you're doing? That's what she used to think, until her arrogant slick eyes caught sight of what exactly you were drawing. In my opinion, there's only a couple things that would interest Signora. Drawing dresses, if you were interested in fashion designing, would definitely be the main one. Viewing your designs after you finished them would soon become a small hobby for her, and soon, she'd eventually ask you to draw her in one of your designs.

You'd say yes, of course. An excuse to draw a drop-dead gorgeous woman in one of your designs for free? No way you were going to pass this opportunity! For her hard work in modeling, you'd definitely pay back twice and give her a drawing of her in her harbinger uniform too - which I think would flatter her a bit too much.

Pantalone wouldn't care, and would never become interested. He's a very rich and successful banker, not any ordinary man. As soon as he sees you drawing somewhere in the house, he'll shrug and go the opposite way. He knows what it's like to be interrupted through a thoughtful process, and he doesn't feel like getting an earful from you if he interrupts it. What he does think about, however, is if you're making money from it. Maybe an online business. He asks, and receives a very disappointing answer. No? What do you mean no? These are good, he'd pay for a portrait! Well, if Mora was a usable currency here. Ugh, the thought of being a poor man in this world makes him disgusted.

Drawing him would result in lots of praise. He'd be very happy you used your own time to draw him. He didn't even have to pay for it, it was gift! You even said so yourself. Immediately taken from your hands and framed somewhere. You can't seem to find the drawing though... Pantalone insists it's still in the house, but no matter where you look you just can't find it! Oh well, it's probably better you didn't know where it went. (You would have never been able to find it, he hid the location so well after all.) Pantalone told you he'd give something back to you as a thank you, but you're not holding him to his word.

Tartaglia would be interested the second he sees you doing something he hasn't seen you do before. That looks interesting, let him give drawing a try! He'd boast how his siblings love his drawings he creates, but you knew he was lying to set a cheery mood. Your understanding was backed when you actually saw his 'Amazing Drawing'... It was embarrassing to say the least. He would heed all your little tips and eventually get good at drawing from your guidance! I can see him as the type to use these skills later for his siblings, and as the type to continue drawing even if you begin to get bored of it... He's skilled with his fingers after all-- okay I'm sorry I'm done.

Drawing him can go one in two ways. I see him as someone who will whine about being drawn. He'll say: 'Have you drawn me yet?' in one of the most annoying voices he cna muster. He knows and understands you find it annoying when he asks you to draw him, so he's found a loophole. Just keep asking questions related to it until you get the hint! ...You got the hint weeks ago, but you're refusing to do it. Well, you're refusing to show him your drawings you've already finished and hid out of sight. Showing him these drawings would make him really happy! Would fold his favourite and carry it around with him everywhere like some of the other harbingers. His next commission he's planned to ask you is of a drawing of Capitano. You eagerly declined, not wishing to impose on the Captain's privacy.

[rauchendesgnu]

"Would you like a seat?" Gerry asks over his shoulder as Sam follows him deeper into the apartment. "Only if it isn't a bother," Sam says despite the throbbing in his hip. "Oh, it's no problem at all. Let me just--" The young goth rushes ahead into some sort of studio, clearly expecting Sam to follow. Every spot in the room is either occupied with a painting, or painted on, or splattered, or filled with utensils, tools, and other stuff that is necessary for art. Gerry sweeps a pile of pencil sketches from a chair and offers it to Sam, who sits gratefully, eyes still wandering over the atelier in overwhelmed amazement. "I can make some tea?" Gerry offers. "Oh," Sam says with an awkward smile. "I'm more one for coffee." "Do you mind if I make one for myself, then?" "No, go ahead." The sounds of an electric kettle being filled and switched on reaches Sam, whose eyes fall onto the sketches. He leans a bit closer to get a better look. It's not very polite, to go snooping into the drawings of a potential friend, but he can't help himself. He's always been so damn curious. The first sketch shows a short, thin man with dark hair that is starting to go grey despite his young but tired face. His brown skin is covered in scars and his eyes are glowing. Sam blinks, and for a second he feels like the drawing blinks back at him. He quickly moves the sketch to the bottom of the stack and shakes his head. It's the sleep deprivation. He's not starting to see movement in traditional sketches. The next few sketches show the same man, over and over again, eyes blazing, mouth set in a thin line, exhaustion weighing down a face that could once have been called handsome. He's not the only one, though. There's a second man, tall and broad, with red hair and a dusting of freckles on his nose and cheeks. He's barely recognisable in the fog that surrounds him that gets thicker with every new sketch Sam discovers. The last one is that of a man who wouldn't have looked out of place in Pride and Prejudice (as written by Cassandra Austen), with a neatly pressed collar and a cravat, as well as jewellery in the form of eyes. His grey eyes are intense, piercing Sam through the page. Sam is about to put the sketches back when a piece of paper slips, and his heart stops. The woman on the paper is a detailed pencil drawing of Celia. It's almost scary how perfect that sketch catches her likeness. Surely Gerry would have needed more than one look at her to draw her so realistically? Sam fights the wave of jealousy that wants to overtake him. It's none of his business who Celia meets in her free time. There is only that one sketch of her, and as Sam finds the last page, he's a bit disappointed to discover that there is just two sentences scribbled in nearly illegible handwriting.

The maze is sharp on my mind. The angles cut me when I try to think.

They are underlined with so much force that the pencil nearly broke through the paper. In the kitchen, the kettle turns off, and Sam quickly places the pages back in order. "Gerry," he says when his host returns, mug of tea in hand, "who are these people you sketched?" Gerry glances over his shoulder, then shrugs. "Now that you say it...I have no idea. These are from a while ago. Why, did I accidentally draw someone you know?" He says it with a smile, like it's a joke between artists. Did I accidentally draw you? Sam's gaze drifts back over the man with the glowing eyes. "I don't know," he says softly. "I don't know."

[princessleechan]

“Choi Seungcheol must die” Chapter 30 + [BONUS 18+ WRITTEN SCENE]

Masterlist

📌chapter tags: MDNI, SMAU, inspired by “John tucker must die”, John tucker!seungcheol, college au, revenge fic, written scene under cute (2.6k w.c.) smut tags under cut off, lost friends, mystery mornings, and heart been broke so many times i....

Thank you @highvern for helping me out a bit!

taglist: @silvsie @christinewithluv @stayinhellevator @aiforyuu @2youngsworld @justcruisingalonguntilbamkpop @asyre @simpxxstan @anzellll @hipsdofangirl @plskillme22 @lirtha97 @lixiel0ver @notevenheretbh1 @leah-rose03 @woozarts @expensive-idiot @doveblackboat @the-boy-meets-evil @tamakis-bbyy @freshdetectivenight @mrsdacherry @smilechannie @alltheshineofthestars-blog @ocyeanicc @horanghaezone @wonuqrtz @leewonkyeom @horangboosadan @kkooongie @myghobi @wonunuwoo @wonwootakemyheart @shuasunshine @dinonuguaegi @ckline35 @miriamxsworld @itsokaytobedumb00 @seokgyuu @nishloves @bmkgemz @conwunder @kawaiimusiccollection @humankimbap @huening-kawaii @writingbarnes @strawberryya

Warning: Virgin sex, awkward sex, fingering, banter

Although things go according to plan, nothing prepared you for the events that would transpire the rest of that night.

You don't expect to find comfort in the person you've been bickering with for the better half of the last few months, and you can say the same about finding him drowning in his heartbroken sobs. His typical snarky demeanor decidedly gives way to a gentler, more subdued tone. It speaks volumes, underscoring that beneath even the fiercest of faces lies a simple, human vulnerability.

"Sorry, this is the first place I could think of. I just wanted to get out there."

Chan's apartment is cozy; fit for two people–barely–and has everything you could possibly need. The bare essentials like dish soap and nothing more.

Heading straight for the kitchen sink, Chan lets the faucet run, capturing the cold stream in his cupped hands. His damp palms collide against his face, washing away the evidence of his anguish. His fingers rip through his hair, locks clumping together in damp ropes; heartache radiating through the quiet space.

"It's alright. I wouldn't have been able to provide somewhere good either. Head's kind of all over the place," you respond, softly chuckling.

He turns towards you, cheekbones glistening under the play of water and fluorescent lighting. His lips curve into a subtle smile, a sight that retains its beauty amid the unfolding turn of events. "I get the feeling."

"It's funny," You muse, absentmindedly surveying the intricate details of his residence, each corner telling a story of his history living here. "We hardly see each other in person, having only ever texted, and now I'm in your apartment."

"Yeah? I guess it's kind of funny. Funnier than the shit we saw today."

The image briefly flashes in your mind before you dismiss it, shaking your head like an etch-a-sketch. "I’m surprised you saw that. Yeah, um, that could've gone better. Things got a bit theatrical because of it."

"I liked it," Chan shrugs, crossing his arms and leaning against the kitchen counter, "He got what he deserved and I stand by that."

"You would," you jest, slowly approaching him. "Haru must really have a hold on you."

He reveals a bittersweet smile. "Yeah, she does."

"Damn, things are really messed up," you express in disbelief. "What’ll happen now? We return to our normal lives and pretend this didn’t happen while Seungcheol’s in shambles?"

"Well," he responds, pushing off from the marble surface and shuffling into the living room. "I always figure Haru will eventually see the truth that he was just some guy not cut out for her. Show her that the guy meant for her is closer than you think, you know? Me."

"And then Jun…"

His chin jerks as you approach him. "It's never been me. No matter how many times I’ve tried convincing her. And I was so sure it’d turn around this time."

"I thought Jun and I would have something," you fiddle with your fingers, "I didn't know how off I was. Like I never even had a chance."

Chan shakes his head in disbelief. "How did things end up like this? Feels like we're stuck in some bad romantic comedy where everyone's paired up with the wrong person."

You shrug, "I wish I knew."

"To think that we were the ones who could have benefited the most from this, only for it to fail, huh?"

"We're a pathetic pair, aren't we?" You laugh bitterly.

He echoes your laughter. "Yeah…"

At that moment, your eyes exchange a blend of empathy, a silent understanding of the disappointment you both are consumed by in that moment; an unspoken acknowledgment of how awry your lives have become.

"It's crazy that he met someone like you," he admits, avoiding your eyes.

"Why do you say that?"

"Well, you're beautiful," he looks up, his gaze sincere. "Even before all the scheming. It's surprising Jun didn't try to approach you first."

Heat creeps against your cheeks, flustered by his honesty. "Maybe that would've changed things, hmm?"

"Maybe," he smiles. "I'm sorry things didn't go as planned… and I'm sorry that I blew up on you before."

You shake your head, a mixture of understanding and regret in your expression. "You didn't mean it. We were both hurt and devastated… I suppose I projected that onto Seungcheol when I had the chance."

"And it's amazing, the best expression I see on his face. He looked human for once," he adds with a light-hearted chuckle.

"Still, I feel a little bad. Maybe I was kind of harsh. I was just so…"

"Frustrated? That everything you worked towards didn’t go exactly how you want?"

"Yeah. I admit that my feelings right now are a little jumbled up, but I still really like him.."

"Maybe this was a sign for both of us to move different paths. Do something we otherwise wouldn’t do to…get over this?"

You tilt your head curiously. "Do you think we can actually do that?"

“I think you can.” He shrugs, crossing his arms. "I, on the other hand, might take some time."

You extend an open palm toward him. "Shake on it? That we’ll move forward from this."

Chuckling at the ridiculous offer, he reaches out and accepts your hand, fingers curling around yours with a gentle, reassuring grip. The warmth of your hand melds seamlessly with his own, sending a subtle shiver down your spine. You notice how his palm envelops your slightly smaller one, a natural alignment that feels surprisingly right.

When you look up, a subconscious voice prods you with questions threatening the gravity of this premature pact. And all of a sudden, things escalate from there in the blink of an eye. You could never explain how your mouth ends up on his; too lost in the softness of his lips to wonder how it can feel so natural.

For a fleeting moment, Chan snaps out of his trance, distancing himself with his hands planted on your shoulders. His eyes search for answers, blinking frantically as if committing sin for the first time. "W-What are you doing?"

"I-I don't know. I thought maybe this is what you had meant?"

"No, not exactly, but—"

"Do you not want to? Did I make it weird?"

"No, I–,” he pauses to think, lightheaded from the lack of oxygen. “I've never had someone kiss me like that before. I'm not really sure how to process it."

"Well, you can reject me, and I can move on?" you tease, tension thick in the atmosphere.

He shakes his head with parted lips, rapidly closing the space between you with sudden determination. “Instead…”

His mouth meets yours cautiously before chasing after your pace; hands finding your body eagerly, cataloging your figure for the first time. The coolness of your exposed skin registers beneath his fingertips, palms gliding across your soft curves.

You lean into him, softly moaning as your lips part open, and you taste his experimentation. When your hand finds the wet tips of his hair, you comb through from behind, deepening your union before stumbling backward into the single sofa.

Before you could clumsily fall backward, Chan claims your hip to pull you out of the way, only to clutch you like a personal vice. You're startled, releasing from him momentarily to read his intentions, and instead finding him dazed and disoriented.

“Wait, what are we doing?” You ask sincerely, catching your breath.

Chan ponders your question slowly and a metaphorical lightbulb flashes above his head before he blurts out, “I’m a virgin!”

Your eyes slightly widen, taken back by the words coming from his lips. “I didn’t mean—I mean me too, but you probably figured that out.”

His eyes grow as big as saucers. “I don’t know why I said that, that’s not probably what this was—“

“It can be,” you look down, batting your eyes, “If that’s what you wanted?”

“Is that what you wanted?”

You look back up, gulping down a lump in your throat. “I wouldn’t mind it.”

“Are you sure? Swapping virginities?”

You groan. “Swapping—god, what are you in? High school?”

“It’s a serious question,” he answers defensively, “I don’t wanna be—I don’t wanna put you in a position that makes you uncomfortable. It should be something we both want.”

You nod gingerly, “I want to.”

“Really?”

“Mmh-hmm.”

He squints at you. “You haven’t been drinking—“

“No I haven’t,” you interject, irritation simmering beneath your reply from all the questions.

“So we’re really doing this? And you don’t think you’ll back down?”

His shirt wrinkles in your hold, forcing him to meet your eyes as you assert, “We deserve this more than anyone.”

You feel like a pair of sloppy sexually deprived teenagers.

Everything feels new the moment you enter his bedroom, glued to one another like flies in a sugar trap. Clumsily, Chan manages to tug off his shirt and press his bare, taut torso against you; every inch of his skin blistering against your own.

You gasp as he crowds you onto the bed with the simple maneuvering of his lips, urging you to lower yourself into the comfort of his worn-in scent in his sheets. He crawls over you, arms bracketing your figure and backing you up against the bed frame before he escapes your liplock. You finally look at him; sweat kissing his forehead, pink heat covering his entire body, and his erection almost bursting at the seams of his jeans.

You’ve never seen one so close before, unable to look away from its bold presence. Chan instinctively lowers his hands, blocking your view. The pink travels up to his ears and cheeks, lips quivering as he warns, “You’re staring.”

You swallow your nerves, “Well, you know. I’m…taking it all in.”

Chan snorts with amused laughter.

You roll your eyes, “Stop it.”

“You walked into that all on your own.”

“Just do the damn thing already.”

Chan’s moments of shock continue to expand. “You want it already? You don’t want, like, foreplay or anything?”

“I don’t know! I’ve never done this before.”

“Okay, okay. Let’s just make sure you’re wet enough. So uh, do I have permission to undress you?”

You feign a semblance of confidence, hoping to mask the underlying apprehension. “Y-yeah, whatever.”

He leans in to reach for the zipper on the back of your top, gradually sliding it down. The cool touch of the metal ghosts along your spine, sending shivers cascading through your entire body. Holding on to your gaze, you watch as he finishes laying you bare and tosses the articles of clothing aside. Chan takes his time marveling, noting every blemish and curve, retaining it to his memory bank and he grins. “You really are beautiful.”

“Shut up,” you huff before kicking him gently.

He laughs into your lips before moving on to your bottoms and slipping the fabric down past your legs. You can tell his gaze shifts facing you only in your underwear, like crossing foreign territory, Chan seems hesitant to tread lines. “You’ll tell me if somethings wrong, right?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Okay, I’m going in now.”

“Alright.”

His hand lingers to the height of his chest. “Here I go, with my fingers—oh do you give me consent—“

“Yes! I give you consent. Just please hurry up.” You wince. “I’m nervous enough as is, but I trust you.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Finally, his hands make it underneath your underwear, finding your wet fold immediately.

You quietly gasp, “Oh, well that’s really new.”

He looks back up at you curiously. “If I fuck up—“

“I’ll tell you,” you reassure.

“Right. Okay.” Chan says more to himself than you.

He presses two fingers against your slit, letting them sink in soak in your arousal. His gaze fills with anticipation as he watches your reaction each pass of his fingers discovering more and more. His digits move deeper inside, softly stroking you and massaging fluttering walls, earning a small squeak you attempt to silence with your fist.

“Did that hurt?”

You shake your head furiously.

“Then it felt good?”

A nod.

He gives a relieved smile. “Good.”

His thumb strokes above your heat, somehow finding the thing so many people joke about being impossible to locate, and Chan did. Out of all men.

The back of your head knocks against his bed frame, suppressing your moans behind closed lips.

“You like that too?” He asks, circling around the raised flesh.

You nod again more gingerly. “Yes…”

“Am I moving slow enough?”

“You can move faster…”

“Faster?”

“Mmh…”

“Okay.”

It takes some time before Chan finds a comfortable pace, but once he reaches it, you grow limp under his touch. Your eyes flutter in response, small gasps leaving you. You continue to shyly guide him. Faster, harder, deeper. And finally—

“Oh gosh,” you twist the sheets underneath you, “that’s so good, keep going.”

He does as you ask, moving at your desired tempo. You writhe uncontrollably, hips bucking to chase his fingers. Nothing could stop the expressions between your lips, calling his name without meaning to while heat festered all over your body. Pride blooms within him and he's determined to see you through.

His efforts are rewarded when he feels you clench around his fingers. As excitement fuels him, he lets his last thrusts penetrate the deepest they’ve gone, and he hears what a climax sounds like for the first time in person.

You distance yourself with an empty kick, taking in the overwhelming sensations before you letting yourself continue. “Chan, oh my god…”

“Was that…did I—“

“Yes, you idiot,” You move quickly, grabbing him by the back of his neck to reconnect, and dress down until there's nothing between you.

Your bodies become a singular system, forging an invisible bond.

His hand wraps around his exposed cock, generously stroking himself to grow bigger, harder, thick enough to assure your satisfaction. Bigger is always better, right?

“That hurts a little bit…” you resound honestly.

The tip of Chan’s cock hardly makes himself known at your entrance, adjusting to your untouched heat stretched around his size. He gently pulls out, rubbing the condom-covered tip against your dripping slit.

“Sorry.”

“It’s a good pain,” You clarify, “Just take it slow.”

“Okay.”

Gradually, Chan divulges deeper with your permission, hearing the bliss of your moans as you part way and give in to his length. You clutch his arm, steadying yourself with short breaths, counting the beat of your heart.

“It hurts?” He asks, eyes brimming with concern.

“I want it to move inside me.”

Chan swallows, forcing his attention back on the task at hand, stretching you out as he rolls his hips. He moans at your walls clenching around him, absorbed in the embrace that made him longingly ache for more.

You softly whimper, rolling your head back and accepting him, tensing up your lower body. “Mmh-hmm, so that’s what it feels like…”

“It’s good?”

“It’s the start of good.”

He scoffs, not too impressed by half-compliment. “Thanks?”

“W-we’re getting there. Are you ok?” You chuckle, feeling his length wedge deeper in your walls.

“I’m nervous, honestly,” He says, writhing. “But you feel really good.”

“So do you.”

Lowering down, he connects your lips with his smile, moving languidly as he rocks inside you. Your legs border his sides, claiming his shoulders and pressing yourself closer to him. Sighs slip between kisses with each desperate grind against his hips, pushing him deeper. The curve of your back harshens, fitting into his figure and taking every snap of his hips. The pad of your fingers digs into his flesh as you buck into him, his soft words of praise whispering into every liplock.

The end is blurred between shattered expectations and unspoken mourning. Between the sheets of his bed you connect again and again in hope to chase away the pain.

Navigating the realm of intimacy for the first time was expected to be awkward, and, in some ways, it was. However, with Chan, someone you find more like-minded than originally anticipated, a sense of comfort that alleviated the untamed anxious thoughts. You realize it’s what you needed these past couple of months.

[hearts4golbach]

Get the Angles Right!

chapter 4.

masterlist.

pairing:

Johnnie Guilbert x Fem!Reader.

warnings:

mentions of death and cancer.

"What's next on your list?" Johnnie adjusted his shirt as you walked out of the cafe.

you looked up at the sky. dark storm clouds were starting to come in. "There's this old park that no one goes to anymore. it's rusty as shit, but it's where I go whenever I need it to be quiet. I guess you could say I go here to think." You sighed, "I'm not sure if we should go, though. it's about to rain. I don't want you to catch a cold."

"I don't mind the rain, don't worry. Lead the way." he glanced up at the sky before turning to you. "You know what's funny?"

you hummed, "What?"

"I haven't seen a single fucking child the couple days I've been here. like, anywhere." he had a small smile on his face as he turned his attention back to the sidewalk.

"damn. i never really thought about that. I guess this city is so bad that parents don't want their kids out. I mean, I see them, but not often." You smirked. "they're going extinct in NYC. the last ones left are a tourist attraction."

Johnnie let out a giggle. "What, do people throw bananas at them or some shit?"

"probably." you shook your head. "anyway, I used to always play in the rain as a kid. it's so fucking cheesy." you laughed. "My mom would drag me inside by my ear and make me take a shot of nyquil 'just to be safe.' I hated that shit. I mean, I guess it worked." he giggled.

a few minutes later, you made it to the park. you took a seat on one of the swings and Johnnie set next to you.

"I wanna show you something." you said, slipping your bag off of your shoulder and setting it in the wood chips.

he looked down and watched as you pulled a small notebook out of your bag. "What is it?"

"it's my mom's. this was the very last sketch book she used before she passed." You stared at the civer before hanging it to Johnnie.

"Can I look through it?" his eyebrows were furrowed together anxiously.

"Yeah, go ahead." You gently pushed yourself on the swing. "she was on her death bed, still sketching away. I came to visit and check on her. I mean, she knew she was dying, and she was okay with it. I think that's what makes her death even more devastating to me. anyway, she knew she didn't have much left, so she gave me it and told me to make her proud. I've never cried harder than I did that night." You rubbed your eye, trying to prevent tears from spilling out of your eyes. "Anyway, sorry for being depressing. I think there are some really fucking cool designs in there."

"you don't have to be sorry for that, y/n." he muttered as he slowly flipped through the pages. "I see where you get your talent from."

you blushed, "i- thank you."

he looked at you and smiled. "she sounds like a great person. I'm sorry you had to lose her."

you tried to shrug it off. you didn't want to cry in front of him. "cancers a bitch." you laughed quietly.

he set the book in his lap and took your hand. he continued to flip through it with one hand. "My dad had cancer, too."

"Really?" You finally looked at him. you admired his features as he looked at the notebook.

he never looked back at you. "Yeah. that's not how he went out, though. he actually went out with a bang." he laughed softly.

"Oh, oh." You hesitated, realizing what he meant. "I mean, that's a way to go out."

he nodded. "I make jokes about my dad all the time. it still hurts sometimes, but it's okay now."

"Thank you for telling me. I mean, really. we met like, two days ago and were telling each other our life stories."

his eyes met yours. he smiled. "I've never really been able to open up to someone this much." his hand squeezed yours.

"Yeah, me either. honestly, I don't talk to anyone. I have a couple of friends around town, but we don't talk." You scratched your neck.

"that sucks, I'm really fucking sorry." he handed the book back to you. you shoved it back in your bag.

you felt a drop of rain hit your nose. "it's starting to rain. we should probably go. the next place I want to show you is just up the street. we shouldn't be out long."

he nodded. "Okay." his hand left yours, and you stood up. you lit your cigarette, taking a puff before passing it to Johnnie. "Wow, you didn't forget your lighter this time." he teased

"Yeah, whatever." You rolled your eyes. "There's this thrift store, and then we can head back. does that sound good?"

he nodded, "Yeah, whatever you wanna do."

"im sorry, has this been boring?" you asked him, turning your head to face him.

"No, no." he shook his head. "im having a lot of fun. these places are really interesting."

"okay, just checking. sorry. anyway, this is where I usually get my fabric and shit from. I always find the cutest patterns."

"thats sick." he responded.

"What do you miss about LA?" you asked, taking a step closer to him.

"My guitar." he answered. "I play it almost every day. i kinda just get trapped in it, you know?"

"You play guitar?" you asked, amused. "that's sexy as fuck. I've always wanted to learn." You tried to ignore the compliment you let slip.

he stuttered. "I- uhm, thank you." his face turned red. "Maybe come visit me in LA, and I'll teach you."

"Maybe I will." You nudged his shoulder. "I've wanted to travel to LA for a while now, I just have been focusing on my business."

"im sure there are just as many opportunities in LA as there are here, but I don't know." he laughed.

"I'll keep that in mind." You opened the door of the shop and walked in. "you know, we should probably get an umbrella." you mentioned.

"good idea."

you scanned through the racks and found a fluffy zebra print jacket. your head started flooding with ideas for johnnie. you held it up to his body. the white and black complimented his eyes and all. "what do you think? I mean, about the pattern. not the ugly ass jacket itself." you clarified.

"I've never really worn zebra print." he felt the soft fabric.

"you'll look so fucking good, oh my god." you gushed before regaining your composure. "I have an idea. I think you'll like it."

"if you make it, I will." he smiled.

you hummed. "I'll keep that in mind."

[isa-ghost]

Hey Isa, you wouldn't happen to have any head cannons back there would you?

Also, I hope you're doing well

Yeah hold on lemme check in the back *glass breaking* *metal clanging* *vine boom* *BRUH.mp4* *more glass breaking* *cartoon boink* *high pitched scream* *Taco Bell dong*

Okay got em here ya go

Phil headcanons masterlist

Quesadilla Island gave him SUCH a taste for Latin food and he can't fucking just Get That when he's home in the Hardcore world. Can you imagine him asking Rose to open a portal to another world for a 2am Taco Bell run. That's not even real/good Latin food but can you imagine.

Actually that's another thing he misses, Rose doesn't communicate with him directly when he's home. I don't have an idea of what the reasoning is for that but :(

Goddess of Death likes to tease him about his perching. She makes him so self-aware of it and he hates it but in that "god fucking damn it Kristin. I'm doing it again" way.

Ender King is just a bitch. Phil was scared of him on Quesadilla Island because there was no control or way of predicting what he'd do there. Or why. Or how. Phil generally isn't scared of a long-dead bitch baby. No, there's a hardcore deity we haven't met yet that he's scared of. And if Apollo doesn't dodgeball me on this the day Phil does a new build to introduce one of the two we haven't met yet, I might make a fan deity.

👆🏻 I mentioned this on stream Friday 9/6, I'm already cooking on the fan deity LMAO.

As a chronic overthinker who's way too insistent on constantly mentally firing on all cylinders in order to survive, this dumbass frequently forgets that taking walks (or more commonly: flights) help him unwind and actually organize his thoughts. He's so bad at walking away for a bit and returning to something with fresh eyes and a clear head. And then he remembers to do that finally and is like 🤯 about it.

Honestly, the same could be said for his emotions. I might have made a hc to this effect before, but he has such a bad habit of clinging to distractions or stubbornly trucking on from things instead of just letting himself Sit with his emotions, processing them and letting them just exist and then pass. He's a very proactive coper, but sometimes action isn't the answer and that's something he hasn't quite learned yet (Rose is trying to teach him this). He absolutely fucking hates doing it, but sometimes the best solution for him really is to just. Sit and cry it out, or seethe, or ride out the panic attack. Whatever it is.

Sitting in the warm sunshine, the sounds of leaves rustling in the wind, and the sight of flower pedals floating in the air fill him with deep, somber nostalgia for comfortably sitting and chatting with Chayanne & Lullah. Watching sunsets too. This is one of few times he'll actually do something to the effect of the previous hc and just let himself sit and Feel. He just can't do it alone, he needs the Murder to sit with him & chat.

Some things he'll do when he actually let's himself sit somewhere & vibe: chat with the Murder, fish, sketch something he sees (often Dorothy), organize his inventory (rarely).

Nowadays he also sketches things of Chayanne & Lullah, sometimes Missa, occasionally Techno. He also really likes doodling random emblems and sigils, often meant for the gods (minus EK) or Techno.

Btw he still gets paranoid about resource gathering, inventory management, and collecting cool stuff ever since his possession. :) Even now that he's back in the Hardcore world, where it's ironically more unlikely that Ender King can/will hurt him, he gets anxious about over-indulging his crow brain.

He's not ALWAYS treating the Murder like it's on sight. Sometimes he'll sit and preen their feathers (or his own while they do their own), he has a massive feeder full of any treat a crow would find yummy imaginable, and half the time they go on those walks/flights he should take to de-stress more often, it's for them because they're the little shits that love to travel so much. He's an explorer and historian/archivist, sure, but he tends to stick to the structures of the gods that he's discovered.

Which btw calling back to that Deep Dark Deity, if they end up existing in canon (and if not, this will be canon for my AU or whatever), he hasn't met/discovered them or their structures yet bc he's too cautious to explore the Deep Dark thoroughly. :)

Honestly this feels like a low-hanging fruit hc that I'm sure tons of people have, but Phil desperately wants to bring Missa to the Hardcore world some day to show him the builds and teach him about the gods.

When he got back to the Hardcore world after QSMP, he took some time to recover emotionally and then anxiously visited Endlantis to add some,, security to the cave Ender King's corpse is sealed in. Will it work? Probably not. But it makes him feel safer.

He has a journal/scrapbook type thing documenting everything he sees & learns about the deities and their associates (ex: He & She). He wishes he could've brought it with him to Quesadilla Island so he could've taught Chayanne & Lullah more about them in detail. But they're somewhere in the world with him now, so he's sure they've learned more over the last 4 months. :)

[hrts4wonu]

minghaos who takes his time when drawing any portrait of you, making sure to get every detail of your beauty

a/n: oh my god jasmine??? i just started reading your fanfics last night and let me tell you, i was so damn obsessed; i'm not sure if this is a hard thought or anything but i did try to make it smut (with a little bit of fluff and comfort)

wc: 1.7k

-

today was like any other day. well, not technically. today was your boyfriend's project's due date. he was supposed to draw a portrait of the person that means a lot to him; though he first thought of his very own mother, he remembered the first few words you said when you met him.

(flashback)

those few sweet words that came out of your mouth like it was nothing; "i love your artstyle, maybe you should draw your future girlfriend, yeah?" you chuckle as he turned to look at you. "pardon?" he says, a little confused.

"i'm talking about me, hao." he laughs at your straightforwardness and displays a warm smile at you while he remains seated.

you laugh along comfortably, sitting next to him while staring at the canvas that was filled with colorful strokes of red, orange, yellow, blue and pink. "you assume too much, don't y'think?" he teased as he cups your cheeks, tucking your hair behind your ear. "well, you never know, do you?" both of you chuckle together before he picks up his paintbrush and finishes his artwork.

(end of flashback)

that was long ago, yet, the memory itself never fails to melt his heart. though, he couldn't deny; he has drew you before. a couple of times actually.

the problem was, all of them just seemed bad to him. he doodled and sketched your face everyday in class; thinking that everytime he drew you with a different pen or pencil, his sketches get more terrible each day. (and yet he still managed to get good grades even though he doesn't pay attention in class because he's always drawing you)

and so, he never showed you, until you found his sketchbook in his room on your 5th monthsary. he was pretty embarrassed about it, but your praises on his drawings were enough to boost his ego and confidence.

while he quietly sits down on his chair, staring into his computer, he slowly turns to look at you with a nervous smile on his face.

"darling," he starts off, standing up and approaching you on the bed. you hum in response, dropping your phone and looking back at him. "do you want to become my reference? it's for an art project."

you nod, changing your position on the bed. "what do you need me to wear? a dress, or--"

"need you nude, baby." the temptation from his voice was enough to electrify something inside of you; feeling a bit flustered from what he said. "..if you're comfortable with it, of course. i wouldn't want to make myself look like i'm into creepy things like this, yeah?" he adds. "if you really don't wanna, it's fi--"

"mm." you shook your head no. "it's fine," though it seemed aberrant to minghao (because of how much of a gentleman he is), the longing ache in you was basically killing you.

a few minutes later, you slowly got out of the bathroom with a robe on. you were nervous of him judging you, the way your body was built, your skin tone, or maybe that was just your neediness that's getting to you.

he puts on a smile and gives you a warm hug, "take it off when you're ready, hm?" minghao whispers in your ear, leaving a small kiss.

you nod, "yeah."

minghao slowly lets go and stands behind his canvas; squeezing out all the paint onto his palette. he quickly grabs his paintbrush and starts speaking up once more, "hey," he sat down on the tiny chair. "there's still time to back out if you're really not into thi--"

"minghao? is there something wrong?" you throw your robe to the side, crossing your arms which squished your tits from below a bit.

he shook his head, "no, not at all." he looks away and focuses back on his canvas.

minghao couldn't help but stare at you for a bit longer, he didn't know what to say or do at all. it's not like there is a problem- it's that you're there, with no clothes on, and you're on full display.

but besides that, you're gorgeous.

absolutely admirable and so, so, so, so, so beautiful. to him and only him. maybe even to the whole world.

countless hours pass by and minghao was finally done with his work, "baby?" he stands up and dusts his hands off.

"did you fall aslee- oh." you quietly let out muffled moans as you try fingering yourself on the sofa; if only you could see the greed and devotion in his eyes while he painted your figure, he would've dropped his paintbrushes to the floor and take care of you already.

the sweet smile on his face disappears and instead turns into a wicked yet sinister smirk.

minghao cups your cheeks. "let me help you baby, yeah?" he coos, crouching down to give you a soft kiss on the lips before falling onto his knees.

"p-please.." you beg, withdrawing your hand from your pussy but before you could wipe it on the couch, minghao grabs it and slides it in his mouth, licking your small digits that were unlike his long, veiny hands. "hao.." you whine at the sight.

"what is it, pretty girl?" he places his hands on both of your thighs, spreading them apart. "need me?"

you nod. "i've been longing, hao."

he starts kissing your inner thighs; wet lips enough to get you even wetter than you were 10 seconds ago. though your legs were now resting on his shoulder, he still had a firm grasp on them. his nails dug onto your skin, leaving temporary crescent-shaped nail marks onto them.

"so have i, darling." he replies, leaning in towards your pussy, his nose bumping with your clit.

you whine when you feel the pleasure; it's overwhelming, yes, but it feels so good that you can't even utter a single word. not even a single one, the only thing you can let out is a moan.

he licks your pussy's lips and starts eating you out, the sweet taste not leaving his tongue. "f..fuck, hao,"

"mind your language or i'm gonna leave you aching on this sofa, y/n." he threatens and you slightly look away in embarrassment when you saw his bloodthirsty eyes darken in lust. "you wouldn't want that, would you?" he leans back, away from you as the wind's cold breeze comes in contact with your skin.

you shook your head no gently, replying to his question. "well, it's not like you could ever leave me hanging like that, hao." you tease.

he scoffs; "there's always a first time for everything, sweetheart. you should know that." he stood up and quickly switches your position in missionary, pinning you down on the sofa and pressing your legs against your chest and his.

"but, hey." you look at him in confusion as he unzips his pants and pulls his cock out. it was long and veiny, t'was so outstanding and beautiful. something so out of this world. "contrary to what mingyu said before," he breathes, fixing his position on top of you as he leans close enough to your ear. "most of the greatest works of art don't know how great they are not because they're unreal, instead, it's because they don't see the talent in the artist's eyes that were enough to make the painting as appealing as it already is." his hot breath against your ear makes you tremble, "you're just like an artwork, you know?" he teases.

"really?" he nods. "you think so?" your cute puppy eyes, begging and pleading for his angry, red tip was enough to send him to the edge but as punishment, he will make you wait longer.

after a few more minutes of teasing, he finally gives in and thrusts inside of you.

you moan loudly, holding onto his body, yet it seemed so unfair because you were basically naked and he still had his shirt on. "mm.." he looks at you, stopping his thrusting as he felt a little confused.

"what is it, hm?" you slowly tug at his shirt and he finally gets it. "ah, i see." he smirks and takes his shirt off.

he goes back to thrusting inside of you and you let out another moan, "m-mmh!"; he grunts as he thrusts even harder, not stopping for even a breath.

you squirm, putting your hand over your mouth to keep your mouth shut yet you can't help yourself but moan even louder. he notices this and he stops for a moment, leaving you hanging which made you ache for more (though it's not like he could pull out because your pussy was basically sucking him back in), grabbing your hand pinning them over your head as he fucks into you.

"h..hao!" you moan loudly as you felt him hitting that 'sweet spot' inside of you. "hao.." you breathe, starting to pant as your legs start trembling. "i-.. i'm so close.." you whine continuously as his hand lets go of your wrists, traveling down to your nipples.

he rubs them gently, leaning in and licking them clean. minghao does the same for the other breast making you moan and yearn for more;

"i..i'm gonna cum, please.." you beg.

"please what, baby?" he smirks, pulling his lips away from your lips and staring into your doe eyes. "tell me," he starts. "tell me what you need, i'll give you everything. every single thing just for you, my lovely, pretty girl."

you look at him with desire and thirst. "need to cum, please.."

everything was testing him; no, no, no.. that's not the right word, is it? let's try that again-- everything was arousing him. it felt like you were tormenting eachother using their own bodies. everything was so tempting to him, he couldn't help but give in; "cum for me, princess," he says with a smirk on his face. "do it, make me proud, okay?"

it wasn't that long until you reach your climax and you came on his cock. he helps you ride your orgasm until he reaches his, planting his seed inside of you.

the both of you catch your breathes together before he pulls out of you and places a warm, loving kiss on your temple; "come on, let's clean you up, hm?" despite being exhausted, you shot him a smile and he stood up, carrying you to the bathroom to clean you up. "mhm.." you manage to say, still trying to catch your breath from what had just happened.

"hao, i love you." you say, with a smile on your face as you return his kiss back, instead, this time it was on his lips. "i love you too, baby."

a/n 2: sorry this took so long,, i had work and i was slightly busy.. but anyways, i'm FINALLY done! it didn't turn out how i expected it to be yet i still think it's a little better than what i usually write. besides that, i'm really, really glad to make a minghao fanfic so please ask / request for more <3

[ghostoffuturespast]

WIP Whenever

*takes a deep breath* Tagged by @streetkid-named-desire @wanderingaldecaldo (you two I think at least twice lol) @seeker-of-truth

@baublekute @scarlettspectra @aggravateddurian. Thank you all very much for thinking of me! 🧡

Tag backs for everyone above 😘 and @luvwich @merge-conflict @shimmer-like-agirl @mynonsenseistingling

@fly-amanitaa @dani-the-goblin @tarmac-rat @lavnderkiwi @morganlefaye79

Cash your tag in now or later and feel free to do whatever creative projects you're working on! Doesn't even have to be fandom related.

It's been a minute. This one got long.

I largely haven't been doing any fandom stuff other than VP because my work schedule has been insane the past two months. And the only reason I have VP to post is because I'm generous about snapping pics and the vast majority of photos y'all are seeing are ones I took back in March/April/May.

Things at work are starting to be slightly less hectic though, so hopefully I can get back into the swing of things. I'm trying to be gentle with myself about the time and energy I do have but it's been frustrating wanting to do things and not having the beans to do them. Spending most of my workdays outside for extended periods of time means I'm bone tired when I get home. And then I have more work to do outside...

Gardening

My garden is gonna be very scraggly looking for the rest of the year, but if I can keep it alive, in theory, the plants should come back bigger and bolder next year. Shortgrass prairie plants spend the bulk of their first few growing seasons establishing their root systems since water is often in short supply, so the tops of the plants are very unimpressive rn. Most of them probably won't get much bigger than this or even flower this year.

I've gotten a good chunk of the plants in the ground, have irrigation lines going to all of them, and did the lil concrete paver patio. I still need to finish planting the plants that have been languishing in their pots for over a month, bury the irrigation lines, and do a bunch of other random things, but we're getting there. Not planning on covering the bare dirt with mulch because I'm doing fall and spring seeding and I want the plants to self-sow. Going for wild pocket prairie and I'm gonna let it go absolutely feral. I'd eventually like to get rid of the river rocks too but baby steps.

What's really funny is all my native plants seem to be doing reasonable well. My vegetable garden on the other hand... It's sad. I know where I fucked up though (I should not have done that soil experiment lol and attack of the cutworm catepillars), so I'll just have to cut my loses this year and reevaluate for next. The worm composter is doing good though 🪱

Drawing

Attempting to get back into drawing. Again, it's been slow. Have been doodling some mutual's CP2077 OCs when I have the time and still have a ways to get through my list. I'm surprised by how much fan art of Grandpa I've received so I figured I'd return the favor for some folks. It's always a pleasant surprise getting some lovely art in your inbox. Probably won't be coloring most of these from here on out. I have a love hate relationship with coloring. Sorry, I just find lines more interesting. All of these were done with dip pen, ink, and watercolor.

I've got another more formal piece I need to work on as well and get done by the end of the month. Keep forgetting to do the layout sketches...

Writing

The slowest of them all. Been working on the same damn short fic (No. 1 of Les Preludes) and then brainstorming for about fifty other projects that are waiting their turn in line. Plus, I'm still trying to read too. But when I can only manage a chapter of a fic about every two weeks...

Most of my writing efforts have been bopping into my drafts now and then and pecking out a sentence or two. However, I did manage to spend 45 minutes detangling a section of about 200 words 🐢:

Have you or a loved one been in an accident or injured on the job?  Are you missing your former quality of life?  Holed up in the bathroom, Robert winced at his reflection in the mirror and at the crusted blood he picked at underneath his nostrils.  Then consider Arasaka Cybernetic Implants!  Fully functional prostheses are capable of replicating the full range of human motion and more!  Available in a range of sizes and styles to suit all your lifestyle needs.  The body of the future is NOW. The corners of his mouth tugged on a bruised eye and what former experience had taught him was a broken nose. Call 1-800-IMPLANT today for a free consultation! Low-interest financing and payment plans available. A rapid fire of unintelligible fine print was drowned out by the sputter of the faucet. Robert cupped his hands and scrubbed at his face, the pain disappearing for the briefest moments with the black of shut eyes and splashes of cold water.      Arasaka Corporation.  What can we do for you? Dry flecks of red decorated the sides of the sink before rehydrating into inky swirls of blood that slipped down the sides of imitation porcelain. Yellowed, cracked, and starting to chip. The plastic hadn’t aged well.

This snippet gives me the hardest war flashbacks to those late 90s/early 00s TV phone ads. Anyone else old enough to remember these things?

[13as07]

Patience #4.5

(Jiraiya Smut)

[Artwork is not mine! Credit to Kare-Chikin]

Requested by: Anonymous

Word Count: 4,703

Warnings and/or Pre-Notes:

You know the deal by now; Part four from Pervy Sage's POV

Also super long like most of my Jiraiya POVs

Titty Fondling

Nick Names: Sensei, Little One, Sweet Thing, Princess, Obedient Girl, Kitten, Sweetheart

Masturbating

Power Difference (Teacher/Student)

Nude/Sexual Modeling/Pictures

Oral (Female Receiving)

Hair Pulling

Overstimulation

Cock Warming

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     I feel like I'm walking on air as I exit Tsunade's office. My new book passed its proofreading, which leaves nothing but the illustrations to do and my lovely ex-squad mate gave both me and my kunoichi 'a reasonable amount' of time off so I can work on it. Nothing but my house, my student, and me... and the six hundred and forty or so panels I need to illustrate, send out, and get approved.

     It doesn't take long for my student to fall into my sights, the beautiful girl waiting for me a few paces away from the office. "Little One," I say, quickly settling behind her. She looks gorgeous today. She looks gorgeous every day, but the sun filtering through the windows makes her features stand out more than usual.

     "Guess what?" I mutter, slightly giving in to my wants. The sun showering on her and the promise of a lot of alone time has my groin tumbling. I toy with the hem of her shirt, quickly passing it, my fingers crawling up the skin of her sides.

It doesn't take long for my hands to cup my Princess's breasts. They're warm and soft and melt through my fingers like butter. How'd I get a partner so perfect? So pretty? So damn addictive?

It also doesn't take long for the material of her bra to upset me. I want to feel her skin on mine. I run my thumbs over the edge of her bra, debating how likely Tsunade would take away my time off if she found me fiddling with my Sweet Thing's chest right outside her office. I decide I don't care very much, letting my fingertips slide down, cupping her bare breasts.

"What?" My Little One mutters, her breath heavy as I mess with her. I shift my hands on her, sliding my thumbs over her nipples, encouraging them to perk up.

My excitement only grows as I watch my Princess's eyes flickering around the hallway. No matter how many times or how many places I mess with her, she's always so anxious about getting caught. It's adorable.

I tilt my head down, resting it against hers, my lips pressed against her ear as I speak. "Tsunade agreed to give me some time off so I can work on my concept sketches for my new book." I catch my Sweetheart's earlobe between my teeth, softly biting it once my words are out. I focus on her body, pinching her nipples when I bite down on her ear and then softly twisting them when I relax my jaw. Her breath picking up doesn't help my swallow professionalism. It encourages my thoughts of pushing her against the wall and enjoying her sweetness.

"Oh, that's good," my kunoichi whispers, the sound of people down the hallway almost drowning out her voice. Her hands cling to my arms, trying to shove them off.

     I tug my hands out of her bra, adjusting the material before clinging to her hip bones. "Yes it is, Sweet Thing, and you, Princess, are going to help your Sensei," I tell her, herding her down the hallway as I start pulling up her dress. Maybe a quickie in a supply closet won't be too bad.

     "How am I going to do that?" My Little One asks, leaning her weight against me.

     "Well, you're the muse for my book so why not be the muse for the artwork as well?" I counter, enjoying the way her cheeks redden the higher I pull her dress up.

     "What?" She mutters, leaning her head back to look at me.

     "Don't worry about it, Little One. Just know you're going to be my pretty little model." The thought of my student modeling nude makes blood rush to my penis. I grind my growing boner against her ass, deciding a quickie is the way to go.

                       ————————————

     My naked Princess clings to me, squirming in my hold as her nails dig into my shoulders. "Sensei, I can't," she whimpers, squirming against me more.

     This is going to be a long and hard battle to stay focused on my task. "Yes, you can," I encourage her, wiggling my fingers under hers so I can undo her hold on me. "I've seen you naked before, I've seen you in the shower before, I've gotten you off in the shower before. How is this any different?" I ask, placing her in the bathtub, my eyes jumping over her nudity.

     She's so cute, thighs rubbing together and cheeks a soft pink as she looks up at me. "Because you're watching me get myself off," my Sweetheart whines, standing on her tippy toes to grab at my shoulders again.

     "I have before. I watched you use a shower head to get off and then watched you hump a pillow. The only difference is I'm going to sketch it this time," I remind her, catching her wrists before she has the chance to get a grip on me again. My hand looks good wrapped around both of her wrists, reminding me how much bigger Mr frame is compared to her.

     "Sensei," my Sweet Thing whines again, wiggling her arms around to try and get her hands free as I turn the water on.

     I tighten my grip, shifting her forward before I rest my face against hers, our eyes locked as I speak. "Sweetheart, we have three options. One, I pay a model to act out your little sins so I can do my concept art. Two, you can be an Obedient Girl and act out the scenes again while I sketch. Or three, you act out the scenes and I take photos to refer to. The choice is yours."

     I hope she chooses option three. My poor Princess wouldn't be able to stand being in the same position long enough for me to do a sketch, let alone mess with herself for that long. Though as long as she doesn't pick option one I'll be fine. I want to draw her, not some other woman.

     "Option two."

     I let go of her wrists before bending down to kiss her. "There's my Obedient Girl. Now, you get all wet and soaped up while I go get my pencils and sketchbook," I tell her, starting to work myself up. Maybe it wasn't the smartest option to have my Sweetheart model for me.

     I shake the thought out of my head, turning the shower on before I turn away. As I leave the room, a whimper and the shower curtain closing fill my previous space.

     I hurry around my office, collecting my things as fast as I can before returning to the bathroom. When I snap the curtain back open, my blood rushes so fast that I'm a tad worried I'm going to pass out. I rest my sketch pad and pencil case on the sink before turning my attention back to my pretty kunoichi. "Let's fix your position, Princess," I whisper, slowly moving my hands to position her how I remember her looking during the not-so-long-ago accidental peep show I had. "See? Perfect, and so sexy, Little One," I compliment when she's in place.

After a beat or two, I pull away from her, using the toilet lid as a makeshift seat. Once my pad is in my grasp, it becomes easier to focus on the task at hand. I sketch out a quick outline, eyes jumping around to start laying out some simple details.

"Jiraiya," my Little One whines, her eyes swimming in arousal, big and round and already ready to burst with her first orgasm. She isn't going to survive this.

"Sweet Thing?" I whisper, my focus caught on her pussy. I could say screw it and fuck her against the shower wall, try my best to sketch the situation from memory.

"How long is this going to take you?"

"I don't know, Sweetheart," I whisper, trying - and failing - to keep my mind where it needs to be. I need my sketches, I need to finish them semi-soon, I need to send them out, I need to finish my book. "The whole detailed sketch will probably take thirty to forty hours but right now I'm just doing a rough outline. That'll take an hour or two," I ramble, snapping my eyes closed to see if that'll help; it doesn't.

"I can't," my Princess whines, making my eyes snap back open. "Two hours?! I can't do that. Sensei." My title comes out as a moan, my Little One's orgasm spilling over.

"Princess," I whisper, my eyes trailing the path of her cum mixing with the water and soap of her shower. "I gave you options," I remind her, sinking to my knees next to the shower, and using my pencil to spread her legs apart further. For research, only research, and not because I like how wet and gushy my kunoichi's pussy gets when she cums. "We can do option three if you prefer," I mutter, dropping my pencil to the ground before wrapping my hand around her thighs, and tugging her legs further apart.

A little taste won't hurt. It'll help even, I'm willing to bet. If I have the fresh taste of my Sweetheart on my tongue it'll help me sketch her better. Or, at least that's what I'm going to use to justify disregarding my work.

I tug my Sweet Thing's leg up, resting it on my shoulder, spreading her open even wider. My free hand wraps around the one she's using to hold the shower head, keeping it put to encourage a second orgasm to spill out and drip onto my tongue.

"Jiraiya," she whimpers, taking a fistful of my hair. My tongue slides past my lips, eagerly sliding across the delicious mess on her legs. I let out a hum, eyes bouncing up for a second to make sure the water streams are still aimed toward her clit. "I don't... what if... my photos get out?" My Sweetheart stumbles out, leaning her weight against the shower wall. That's another pretty sight, maybe I'll add that one to my book too. But, for now, I need to focus on making her feel safe. My book can wait.

I move forward, helping her lean against the wall easier as I slide my tongue into her pussy a few times. "I'd never let that happen, Sweetheart. Whatever needs to happen for you to feel safe, I'll make happen. You can keep them, you can be around when I need them for my sketches, we can get a lock box for them, you can have the only key to the box, whatever you want," I coo between more dips of my tongue. I swear I could live off her pussy and her pussy only.

Nails dig into my scalp, heavy breathing and small noises spilling out between my Sweet Thing's words. "Oh... okay... ya... that... that seems okay." She comes undone again, fresh and warm juices spilling onto my tongue. My eyes flicker up as I flatten my tongue against her cunt, trying to slurp up as much as I can before the shower water washes it away. "Sensei, I can't... I can't take anymore. Please?" She mutters, nails no longer scratching me, but her hand does ball up my hair, tugging my head away.

I give in, letting my Little One pull me away from her pussy. "Whatever you want, Princess," I mumble, my eyes jumping around her form. Her chest is pumping a mile a minute, her legs threatening to shake, and her eyes soft and ready to burst into tears any second now. "Do you think you can hold on long enough for me to take some pictures? Are you going to be okay with that? Can Sensei take pictures of your pretty cunt?" I ask, forcing the shower streams to move up and down, giving her sensitive clit a small break.

Her head shakes rapidly, my Princess's legs fully shaking now. Dear Lord, her pussy is so wet and warm and inviting. I could just fuck her, watch the tears roll down her cheeks as she babbles about wanting more but wanting me to stop... but I have work to do.

I slowly climb to my feet, taking a second to kiss my Sweetheart. "What an Obedient Girl. You're so good to me. You keep this right here," I order, running the streams down her pussy once more before situating it against her clit again.

"Yes, Sensei," She mumbles, pulling a silent laugh from me. I peck her lips again, taking my time with the kiss before I pull away.

I tear through my office again, in search of my camera. The whole time my dick pulses almost painfully. Lord, I should fuck my Little One, I should fill her trembling pussy with my cum, I should do my work. Right, work. That's why we're in this situation, because of my book, my work.

Once my camera is found, I dart back into the bathroom, being met with a crying Sweetheart. Her legs look ready to give out, tears spilling down her cheek with just as much cum and water spilling down her thighs. "Sensei," she whines, causing me to lunge forward. I press my lips against hers again. When I pull back, I snap a picture of her messy face. I think that'll be the cover photo for my book.

When the picture prints out, I eagerly shake it, excited to see how pretty my Princess looks in her photo. Once I'm done looking over the photo, I settle it on the bathroom sink. "Just a couple of photos, Sweetheart," I tell her, gently situating her back into her original position.

After My Sweet Thing is situated, I pace backward, snapping a string of pictures. Once I'm sure I have every possible position, I decide I want her back how she was before I left. She looked hot like that too. "Alright against the wall again, Princess," I mumble, helping her shift back into place. "Just like that. You're such a pretty model. Who's Sensei's pretty model?" I ask, taking more pictures from different angles, even going far enough to adjust her position a time or two.

By the time I'm satisfied with the range of photos, my Sweetheart is a trembling mess from a mix of the chilled air running across her wet body and the overuse of her pretty cunt. What a poor Little One. "You did so good," I praise, setting the camera down next to the stack of photos I've collected.

I take the shower head out from her shaky fingers, putting it back in its place before turning the water off. "Let's get you warmed up," I say, wrapping my kunoichi in a fluffy towel, and rubbing it up and down her sides to help her warm up. "And get my pretty model a warm drink and some kisses and maybe a nap," I continue to coo, peppering kisses across her nose.

Her hands shoot forward, digging her nails into my shoulders as she clings to me. "And then you'll fuck me?" My Princess asks, a huge smile on her face despite the tears still rolling over her cheeks.

"Yes, Sweet Thing. Then I'm fucking you," I laugh, picking her up and looping her legs around me. I swear my student would live on my cock if I'd let her.

                       ————————————

     "Sensei?" My Sweetheart's voice rings out, tugging my attention away from the art piece I've been working on.

"Sweetheart?" I mutter, a smile already tugging at the corners of my mouth. She's been so patient, so sweet, so perfect over the past couple of weeks. I've been drowning in work, trying to get at least a handful of sketches finished to send to my editor. That's left me in my office almost all day most days. "Come here, Princess. Sensei wants to hold you," I mutter, craving the feeling of having her in my arms.

My Little One comes racing towards me, footsteps careful as she makes it through the maze of a floor my office is at the moment. It feels like all my stress and tension melts when she settles into my lap, a soft sigh escaping my lips once the weight of her is pressed into me. My student's eyes skirt over my desk, eyeing my recent sketch.

I rest my head against her neck, wrapping my arms around her to feel more of my Little One's body against me. "Do you like it?" I ask, a bit worried she won't enjoy the picture. The photo is very much her, based on her, everything of her, but I have made changes.

"It looks cool. My hair is sketched a lot longer and my thighs are puffier. My skin tone is a bit darker too." Changed she has noticed apparently.

"You're the muse for my book and for the art of that book. That doesn't mean I want people to see you in those ways. Making small adjustments to the artwork makes it a little more the character and a little less you," I explain, shifting my head so I can brush my lips across her jaw.

It's a truthful answer, she is everything in my new book. On the other hand, I would go ballistic if people figured out it was my Sweetheart that I was writing about, that I was drawing, if people saw her in those ways, thought about her in those ways.

There's a tear in my jealousy, a dribble of worry that my Sweet Thing is taking the changes in the wrong way. "It doesn't mean I want your hair longer or your thighs thicker or your skin darker. You're perfect as is, Little One," I mumble, shifting her head so I kiss along the other side of her head.

"Promise?" She whispers, squirming in my lap.

"Promise," I echo, pressing her to my chest so she'll calm down a bit. My focus shifts to searching for my pile of art, wanting my Little One to look them over. I should give her back the photos I'm done with too. "I'm done with those ones. Destroy them if you want or I can get you a lockbox next time I leave the house like I said I would," I tell her, giving my kunoichi a few options as I place the photos into her grasp.

My Sweetheart shoves her photos into her pocket, attention on my hands flipping my folder open. "I'll probably destroy them. What's in the folder?"

I carefully lay out the finished art, worried about messing them up. "These are the pieces I've finished. I've done two or three versions of each one so there are options," I tell her, cuddling her in my hold again. I love it when I get to hold her like this, get to smell her, get to feel the warmth of her body. I could die a happy man in this situation.

My eyes trail over her face, watching her reactions to them. "After I finish the piece I'm working on now, I'll send out whatever ones you approve," I tell her, squeezing my student, continuing to enjoy the feel of her against me.

Princess's head tilts back, eyebrows pressed together as she looks at me. "Whatever ones I approve?"

"Ya," I mutter, a little confused. Of course I'd ask her permission before I sent out any of my art. Again, they don't look like her but they are her. "I might have changed them up so you're not recognizable but it's you at the core. If you don't like one or aren't comfortable with one or simply don't want it published then I won't send it in," I explain, shifting my position in hopes it'll help the anger I'm feeling, at the situation, not at my Sweet Thing.

She leans against me, eyes still scanning the artwork. "That's very thoughtful of you," my Sweetheart mutters, meaning it nicely but pissing me off even more.

What kind of people has my student been with before me? Why wouldn't she expect to have a say? To have a right to decide what can and can't be published? "It's my job to make you feel safe, Little One. It's not thoughtful, it should be expected," I mutter, pressing my lips against her neck, trying to use it to calm myself down. It doesn't matter, it's not her fault, I'm taking care of her now and that's all that counts.

"I still appreciate it," my Princess mutters, squirming in my lap again so she can get a better look at the art.

                       ————————————

     I shift in my spot again, careful not to wake up my Sweetheart as I move. I've needed to pee for an hour now and I don't think I can keep putting it off, but I don't want to wake her. I already stirred her awake when I took my shirt off.

Carefully, I wrap my arms around her, moving slowly as I lift her. "Jiraiya?" She yelps, panic in her voice as she grips my hair.

My head is snapped to the side because of my Princess's grasp. "Sorry, Sweetheart, I was trying not to wake you. That didn't work out. I need to go to the bathroom. I'll be right back," I shortly explain, eyes scanning her face, watching the panic melt away to contentment. Reluctantly, I set her down, pressing my lips to her forehead before pulling away.

I take my time going to the bathroom, walking slowly, and stretching my muscles during my little break. When I re-enter my study, the thought of this being a longer break is burned into my head.

Sweetheart is sitting on my desk, her almost bare back facing me, sitting in nothing but her underwear. Maybe a long break wouldn't hurt, but I'm almost done with my sketch. If I give in now, the rest of the night will be spent having sex and not working. We're going to wait, just long enough for me to finish.

"I have work to do, Sweet Thing," I mutter, slowly walking through the room, towards my temptress of a student. "I need to finish and send out my concepts." When I get to my desk, I let my arms snake around her body, feathering my fingers over her covered pussy.

Princess's legs fall open, her back leaning into my chest, and her head lying on my shoulder. What a pretty Obedient Girl I have, so eager to be pleased, so willing to give me her body. "So? It wouldn't hurt to take a break," she tempts, trying to chip away at my decision.

My arms tighten around her, leaving her pressed against my body as I lift her off the desk, starting the short walk back to my chair. "I have work to do. You have to wait, Little One." My unwillingness to cave gets me a spoiled princess acting like dead weight and a pitched whine.

I settle back in my chair, my Little One's hips instantly going into action, grinding against my growing boner. "Please? Just a quickie," she tried again, trying to pull my hand towards her cunt.

It's probably not the best choice, but I do give my kunoichi a bit of relief, rubbing circles into her clit. "Have some patience, Princess," I order, keeping my fingers light as I shift most of my attention back to the drawing I've been working on the last few days.

Little One grips my arms, nails digging into me for the hundredth time as she whines into my shoulder. I swear I'm more scratch marks than skin at this point. Again, her legs widen, openly putting her growingly slick panties on display for me, only a glance away. What an obedient girl I have. "Jiraiya?" She whines, nails deeper into my skin now. Maybe she's more needy than obedient.

"Sweetheart, you can't stay in here if you're going to be noisy. I'm trying to focus," I tease, giving into her neediness by adding just a tad more pressure and moving my fingertips faster.

"Jiraiya!" She whines again, threatening to break the skin of my arms.

I let out a sigh, knowing if I don't give in just a bit, I won't get any work done or my dick wet. What a needy sex-driven student I have. "Stand up, Sweet Thing," I order, burying my hand into her hair and using it to force her to her feet.

I keep her in place, enjoying the view of her ass as I tug my dick out. If she's so eager to be filled, then who am I to deny her? Once I'm free, I fix my hold on her hair, ready to tug her back into place. "Turn around."

My Obedient Girl is well, obedient, turning around to face me. Her eyes are stuck in my dick, mouth almost watering as she looks at it. "Jiraiya, please?" Sweetheart whines, thighs rubbing together as the rest of her almost vibrates with want.

     "I already told you, have some patience, Little One. For now, come warm your Sensei's cock," I order, letting her go and spreading my legs wider so she can situate herself.

     She does just that, crawling into my lap after dropping her panties on the floor. "Sensei," Princess whines, wiggling my tip into her pussy before letting herself tumble down the rest of my dick.

     Before I have the chance to stop her, my student starts riding me, fucking herself on my cock. I grin at her, settling myself into a more relaxed position, happily watching her bounce like the hormonal bunny she seems to be. "Look at you. Princesses don't act like this. What are you acting like Little One?" I tease, annoying the way her pussy squeezes me because of the soft degrading.

     Like usual, her hands shoot forward, gripping my locks and using them to help herself bounce faster. "I... I don't... know," my Sweetheart whines, her eyes as desperate as her movements, so eager to have me fill her pussy before I make her sit still.

     I tilt my head, pressing a kiss or two against her wrist before I continue mocking her. "You're acting like a desperate kitten in heat but Sensei asked you to be a little cock warmer. Be an Obedient Girl for your Sensei." I grip her hips, forcing her movements to stop and in turn, denying myself the orgasm that was threatening to burst and fill her.

     My unhappy girl yanks on my hair, whines and whimpers spilling from her because of my no. "Sensei, please? I want sex," Princess whines, squirming and failing to get out of my hold.

     I tilt my head again, this time forward so I can kiss her between my words. "And I need to finish my work. Show Sensei those pretty patience we've been working on. If you're good, I'll spend the rest of the night pleasing you, Sweetheart." It's not fair of me and I know that. She's been patient the last two weeks, letting me work, modeling so pretty for me, but I need to finish my work.

     "Promise?" She whispers, giving into my orders and stilling herself.

     "Promise," I repeat, moving us forward and littering her shoulders in kisses. My student's hands fall from my hair to my shoulders, head buried into my neck as she sighs. "There's my Obedient Girl," I praise, adjusting us so I can continue to work, purposely shifting my dick buried in her soaking pussy to tease her.

     She tightens around me, more babbled whines slipping past her lips. "Hush, Little One. Sensei is trying to work," I continue to mock, tilting us back a bit so I can thrust my hips up, making her bounce on my cock.

     Pressure is added to her fingers, nails present against my skin again and legs tightening around me because of my soft teasing. "Jiraiya?"

     "Patience, Sweetheart," I remind her, fully planning to test her patience as I finish my work. Maybe I'm not as nice to her as I thought.

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[fullsunised]

NCT DREAM REACTION: CHAPTER SIX

╰─▸ ❝ @ nct dream x gn!idol?reader

→ nct dream when you push yourself into his shirt because you're feeling clingy

→ requests open

→ trigger warnings: fluff

→ a/n: OKAY, RED FIVE DIAMONDS IN MY BAG, IF YOU WANNA SEE IT DANCE TO BEAT LIKE THAT MY MAMMA SAW IT LIKE OH MY GOD DAMN anw

daydream

MARK LEE

❝babe, you're the cutest shit ever❞

he's flushing very bad. boy's down bad, so when he's on the couch and you slide right into his shirt, he's shy at first. and then he's cooing at you being so cute. boy's gonna loose it when you rest your head in the crook of his neck.

he'd chuckle when you tighten your arms around him, because you had to be a part of him- you missed him that much. he'd stare at you with stars in his eyes, before leaning down to kiss you.

smiling into the kiss. he doesn't mind if you stretch his shirt out cause bro if he could be so close to you, boy's gonna not wear any shirts, trust.

RENJUN HUANG

❝i think i'm finally gonna paint you❞

he's flabbergasted. he's just painting sitting in the balcony early in the morning, when you wake up, rub your eyes and make it a mission to be close to him.

you'd move his hands away and sit on his lap, later sliding into his shirt. he's gonna chuckle, his morning voice greeting your ears, blessing you fr. anyways, he'd rest his sketch book on the side and wrap his arms around you.

both of you now would be enjoying the cool morning breeze while staring at the sunlit sky early in the morning. so adorable.

JENO LEE

❝i was about to enjoy my cereal but nvm this is better❞

he's just innocently pouring himself cereal when you jump him, snatching the bowl from his hand and pushing yourself inside his black tee.

boy's smiling bro. like HOW THE FUCK CAN SOMEONE BE SO ADORABLE??? LIKE COME ON??? anyways, he'd feel shivers down his spine when you're cold arms are wrapped around his naked figure.

his gonna lift you up, with your legs around his torso, leading you to the couch, after that, you know he's not letting you let go. what an adorable piece of shit are you.

HAECHAN LEE

❝i think i should get into your shirt next time❞

my man is gaming like usual. you come home from one of the longest days you've ever had- take a shower and then rush into his lap. your head sneaking into his shirt.

boy's smiling to himself like an idiot (I love this idiot), a smirk making its way onto his beautiful face. 'am I that irresistible?' mood going on around him.

naah, you know boy's gonna loose it when you fall asleep with your head on his chest, your arms around his naked figure. little snores escaping you. he's gonna shush the rest of the dreamies on the call so that you can sleep more peacefully.

JAEMIN NA

❝can i just say, i love you❞

it was a very normal movie night, jaemin had his arms around you, your head on his chest. but nuh uh, that was disatisfying (is that a word?). you needed more of him.

so you jump on his lap, tuck your whole body into his shirt. bro's melting. i say this a lot cause he literally is- his whole heart swelling, his tooth rotting because of how adorable and sweet you looked.

he's gonna wrap his arms around you, and pull you closer. cause if you are close, he's closer. if you are down bad, he's down badder? that's how it is.

CHENLE ZHONG

❝stop stretching my shirts out, you idiot❞

he's just on his phone, scrolling like he always does when you just barge into his room, and shove yourself up his shirt. he'd be whiny about it? cause this wasn't the first time, and you're literally stretching all his shirts out.

but he loves it. adores it even. when you kiss his lips to shut him up, he's on cloud nine bro. he might as well buy it, cause it felt so peaceful.

you position yourself better so that both of you can watch tiktoks on his phone and laugh. he'd slip a hand into the shirt and rest his fingers on your stomach cause he loves it there.

JISUNG PARK

❝stop, you're making me shy❞

he's done with practise, all sweaty when he comes home to you pouting. deciding he'd give you all his attention after a shower, he's gone and is out in a few minutes.

as soon as he opens the door, changed into a fresh set of clothes, your rushing to him, wrapping your legs around him and sliding your head into his shirt.

he's blushing. but at the same time, he'd be so whipped- like and when you fall asleep, you know he's taking loads of pictures, which now are his lockscreen.

fullsunised.

[whooambouttamakeanameformyself]

Howdy! I'm here to give you some Rufus Firefly fluff! I love the 6'10" bear man and I think we need some fluff. Enjoy :)

(Gn reader.)

A first date and new feelings.

~~~~~~~~

It was Captain Spaulding that introduced you to Rufus "RJ" Firefly. (You'd been working for Spaulding for a while and he simply decided you needed a friend... or more.)

Rufus is a very large and quiet man, very intimidating the first time you met him if you were being honest. However, once you got to know him you realized that he was really nice! He didn't talk much but he loved to listen to you talk about your interests.

As you two got to know each other more he found himself excitedly waiting for the next time he'd go to Captain Spaulding's to see you. When he'd visit You'd spend your whole break chatting with Rufus, talking about the music you liked and showing him a few of the sketches you'd done (him insisting he keep the ones you were going to throw away), in turn listening to him talk about his dog Brutus and his family. He always kept talk about his family very brief, happy to talk more about his dog or the cars he tinkered with.

~~~~~~~~~~

One cool evening as you were getting off work, getting ready do head home, you were stopped in the parking lot by Rufus. "Howdy, Y/N. I was wonderin' if you'd like to ride the backroads with me tonight?" He flashed you a nervous smile, clearly worried he might've come on too strong.

You think for a second before nodding. "Sure! Let me just put my beer in my truck." You smiled softly, quickly unlocking your truck, putting your beer in the floorboards on the passenger side before closing and locking your truck.

You returned to Rufus who was now standing beside his pickup truck. "You ready?" He asked, fishing the keys out of his pocket. You nodded, hopping in the passenger seat of his truck, watching the giant man you'd grown to adore get behind the wheel.

~~~~~~~~~~

Driving down those back roads, music blasting, the windows down... it was magical. Such a simple thing, but it made you feel so free. After about an hour of driving Rufus pulls off the road and into an empty field, turning off the truck before getting out. You followed him out of the truck, standing beside him, leaning against the hood. Both of you were quiet, nothing really needed to be said, the two of you spent what felt like forever looking up at the stars. You look up at Rufus, still able to see his silhouette in the darkness, he seemed so content out here, no loud fighting or screaming, just the sounds of the wind, the cicadas, and the crickets. You move to wrap your arms around his torso, hugging him lightly. You could feel him tense up, not use to people touching him, but relaxing once he realized you weren't trying to hurt him. You felt him wrap his arms around you, hearing his heart beat speeding up.

~~~~~~~~~~

You and Rufus ended up back in the cab of the truck, getting ready to head back to Spaulding's so you could head home. Neither of you wanted this night to end.

He put the key into the ignition but stopped, glancing over at you...

You looked perfect....

The pale moonlight illuminated you, giving you an almost heavenly glow.

Without thinking he reached over, gently grabbing your chin, turning you to look at him. You gave him a slightly confused look, but you weren't left confused for long because the next thing you knew his lips were on yours. His lips locked with yours like perfect puzzle pieces, the kiss causing the butterflies in your stomach to go crazy.

The kiss deepened quickly.

His free arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer, the hand on your chin moving yo hold the back of your head.

You found your own hands tangling themselves in his long dark hair, gently tugging at it, earning a few soft noises from him.

~~~~~~~~~~

The make-out session left you both breathless and love drunk.

Tired too.

You checked your watch and to your shock it was 3 am. "Damn, is it really 3am?" You asked, letting out a soft yawn. "Do ya want me to take ya home?" Rufus asked, looking at you sadly. He would have offered to take you back to his house but he knew just how bad his family could be to outsiders.

Then he got an idea.

He got out of the truck, going around to the passenger side. With a little bit of a struggle you both managed to settle into a good position. Him in the passenger seat and you on his lap, his arms around you, holding you protectively. That's how you both fell asleep.

Surprisingly the first good sleep you both got in a very long time.

~~~~~~~~~~

You were the first to wake up, your eyes landing on Rufus's sleeping face. He was extremely handsome. Then your watch beeped causing you to look at it.

Shit.

Almost 1 pm... definitely late for work.

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Hope this was okay! I really want to do more Rufus content but I wanted to start with some fluff before I get into the more violent murdery stuff lol.