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celestelunia · 4 months ago

Note

Yk what would be sad. A Vil x GN!reader who keeps changing themselves because Vil keeps insulting everything about them (not on purpose) but he doesn’t realize what’s happening until they just stop talking to him all together because being with him hurts them too much. Nice ending maybe? (I’m a baby and can’t handle angst endings😭)

Hi! So sorry this took a while! Hope you've been well!

First time writing for Vil, but I tried my best lol. Hope you like it!

TW: self-esteem/image issues

"Straighten up"

"That color doesn't look good on you. Try something ligther."

"Hm. That clothing style isn't right. This just won't do."

"No. No. No. It's all wrong."

As you walked down the halls of NRC, you kept a couple of style magazines pushed up against your chest as your once bright eyes seemed darker and less happy.

Vil Schoenheit was someone you always admired, and when you were able to become a part of the rare few people who he considered a friend, you couldn't have been happier. You knew being next to someone like Vil wasn't going to be easier, but you never expected something on this level.

At first, it started with little words of improvement. Ones that you gladly took to help improve yourself, but over time, that's all you heard. Negative words on how you could do better. Look better. Nothing was very good enough, and now it was starting to ware you down. Suddenly, it felt like Vil was saying "you" weren't good enough.

At that thought, you came to a stop as you looked down at the magazines in your hands. It was all too much, and it was getting to the point that you couldn't even look at yourself in the mirror anymore. With a sigh, you turned and walked towards the nearest trash bin before you threw away the very magazines that had become your life.

A month had passed, and Vil was starting to wonder what was going on with you. You had slowly stopped coming by his room, attending meetings, and just having lunch together. At first, he figured it was because you got busy since he understood time restrictions and all, but after a couple of weeks, he felt like something was off.

The few times Vil saw you in the hallways the moment you caught his gaze, the model watched as you would turn and head in the opposite direction. It almost felt like you were avoiding him, but that couldn't be right?

......could it?

Over the last couple of weeks, you felt like you could breathe again, but despite that, you didn't feel happy. You couldn't bring yourself to talk to Vil, so you did the next best thing you could think of.

You avoided him.

And that alone was painful. You missed his voice, his company, and when you saw that look of surprise in his eyes when you obviously avoided him cause pain to shoot through your chest.

Despite all of these feelings, you knew the relationship you had with Vil wasn't healthy. You couldn't constantly keep up with his approval, and you wanted him to accept you for who you were.

Faults and all.

"Y/N."

Hearing the very voice you were thinking of calling out your name caused you to freeze. In that small moment, your fight or flight senses went off, but before you could make up your mind, you felt Vil grab your hand.

"Do you have a moment? I need to talk with you." Vil asked as he had noticed that look in your eyes that you might run, so he did his best to cut off your options to do so.

You paused as you considered his question. While you weren't ready to talk about this, you got the feeling you never would be, so you decided to just nod your head as the popular model led you towards his room for some privacy.

Once alone in Vil's room, you glanced around the familiar setting and scent.

"What's going on?" Vil asked, getting to the point.

At the question, you turned to look back at him without answering the question. You could feel that nasty and unpleasant bubble building up in the center of your chest. Did he really not know?

"You've been avoiding me, and I think it's only fair that you explain why." Vil said in his usual confidence.

Feeling that tightness in your chest, you wrapped your arms around yourself as you lowered your head.

"Y/N, if you slouch like that, it will be bad for-" Vil had started to say but stopped when he heard you mutter something. "Speak up. Muttering is very unbecoming."

"This!" You snapped, which caused the blonde to jump as he was startled by your sudden outburst. "The constant complaining and everything!"

Vil froze as he watched your beautiful [colored] eyes glare at him as fresh tears welled up in them.

"I'll never be good enough for you! Why can't you just accept me for who I am? I can't keep being with you as you constantly put me down!"

"Putting you down? I-" Vil said, surprised, but his words got cut off in his throat when he watched you storm over towards him.

"Maybe think a bit harder before you finish that sentence." You said as you told yourself you wouldn't apologize for getting your feelings out. "Not everyone is perfect, Vil. Not everyone can be like you....."

The model just started at you for a moment, but before he could speak, he watched as you walked past him and out of the room. Now alone, Vil just frowned. He had never seen you like this before, and your words echoed in his head.

He didn't put you down. He would never do something like that to you....right? You were the only person (outside of Rook) who he could be himself around. He adored your company...

Taking a deep breath, Vil left his room as he headed towards his vice housewarden room. If anyone could help him right now, it would be Rook.

The next day, you decided not to go to classes as you stayed crawled up on your bed. While you did feel better getting your feelings out, you felt sad at the fact that you might lose your friendship with Vil.

It was weird how the world "friendship" had changed for you over time as you started to notice a change in your feelings, but it wasn't something you were ready to drive into it.

Hearing a knock on your door, you let out a moan as you pulled your blankets over your head. "Go away." You called out as you figured it was one of your friends checking up on you. After a couple of seconds of silence, you thought they had left, but instead, you heard your door open. Holding back another groan, you kept yourself hidden, hoping your friend would get the message that you weren't in the mood to talk.

"Staying in and resting is important."

Instead of your friends voice, you heard Vil's as you suddenly sat up in your bed and removed the blanket from your head.

Standing in the room was Vil as he closed the door behind him.

"What are you doing here?" You ask as even you could hear the coldness in your tone.

"I came to talk." Vil said as he just smiled softly. "And to apologize."

At this, you gripped the blanket that was resting in your lap. Vil apologizing? That didn't sound right.

Noticing that you weren't moving to kick him out, Vil decided to continue. "I want to apologize for my words. I know it's not an excuse, but I didn't even notice I was saying those....things to you. Or how often."

While Vil was a proud man, he also wasn't that proud to lose someone important to him due to his own mistakes. After talking with Rook, he finally had a good understanding of how he had been treating you. "Perfection..." Vil said with a sigh as he looked off to the side of your room. "...is something that has been pushed on me since a young age, and it appears I've picked up a rather nasty habit. I never meant for my words to make you think you weren't good enough." He said as he walked over towards your bed and took a seat on the side of it. "You're already perfect enough. Just knowing I can be myself around you and knowing you won't judge my imperfections..." Vil said as he reached out and placed his hand over yours that was gripping your blanket.

"...It means the world to me, and I'm sorry for making you feel like you weren't good enough. I understand if you don't want to be around me anymore, but I wanted you to know I never once thought you weren't good enough."

At Vil's words, your eyes widen before you glance down at his hand resting over yours. It was like a weight had been lifted from your chest. "It hurt..." You whispered as you closed your eyes. "I just want to be with you and not to embarrass yo-"

Before you could finish your sentence, you felt Vil gently hand on the back of your head as he slowly pulled you forward into an embrace.

"You've never embarrassed me. I was just wanting what was best for you, and that ended up turning into nagging stepmother's territory." Vil said with a small smile as he tried to lighten the mood. "And I'm sorry I hurt you...."

With your forehead resting against Vil's chest, you let out a long sigh as you took in his warmth. Something about his scent and being next to him always helped you to relax.

"Do you forgive me?" The model asked bearly above a whisper. The longer the silence went, the more he was starting to worry you wouldn't.

"I do...." You said before pulling back to look at Vil. "...but I hold the right to punish you if you make me feel like this again." You said with a playful smile.

"Deal." Vil replied as he mirrored your smile. "I've already spoken with Rook, and I plan on being more mindful. I don't make the same mistake twice."

Taking in a deep breath, you nodded your head.

"Now." Vil said as he suddenly stood up from your bed. "I've cleared my schedule for the rest of the day. How about we watch a movie and catch up a bit?" He asked before holding out his hand to you.

Surprised that Vil cleared HIS schedule for you made that familiar warmth spread through your chest again as you smiled. How you've missed it. "Who am I to turn you down?" You teased softly as you reached out and placed your hand in his.

#twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #x reader #twst #twst x reader #vil schoenheit #twst vil

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ferrstappen · 2 years ago

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aren't we supposed to surprise you? l Charles Leclerc blurb

pairing: dad!Charles Leclerc x female reader.

you can find more of my version of dad Charles' here <3

summary: you somehow manage to overshadow Charles and Jo's gift.

Charles was an anxious man. Even more so since Josephine was born two years ago.

Yes, people laughed at him but he didn't care, he was going to sprint towards his daughter every time she took a wrong step and fell down, or his system would shut down whenever her lower lip trembled. Charles could communicate with his daughter through her eyes, they told him everything he needed to know in the meantime before she learned how to properly express herself.

They were an unstoppable duo, everybody knew that, but Charles was aware the reason both him and Jo could feel at ease and safe was you, and maybe he didn't remind you enough of that.

His mother and younger brother accompanied him to the various shops around Monaco, Pascale having to fight Charles to let her carry the stroll on the street, Arthur shaking his head at Charles' antics, playfully pitying his niece.

"I am going to make sure to take her to the worst tattoo parlors and pubs when she's older and then I'm showing you the images so you can die of a heart attack," Arthur teased his brother, earning a glare from Charles while being chastised by his mother, but the youngest Leclerc saw a smile on his mom's face.

Arthur winked at his niece and she giggled. Lorenzo had no chance of ever being the favorite uncle.

They entered different shops, not wanting to go for the typical jewelry and overly expensive designer clothing and accessories. No, Charles wanted to give you something you'd truly appreciate, something for you to relax and show yourself some love and distraction. Now it was turn for Arthur to carry Josephine while teasing his brother for being a simp.

A couple of books he thought you'd enjoy, different colored bath bombs, luxurious soaps and candles were some of the goods you were going to receive for Mother's Day.

Dad and baby Leclerc arrived got home greeted by the smell of coffee and some kind of pastry. It smelled like Charles' dream life; his life.

You smiled at Charles and gave him a quick peck on the lips before taking Josephine from his arms, your daughter babbling about papa and maman.

It was past midnight, Josephine sound asleep on her room after both you and Charles read her a short book in Italian, trying to accustom her to the language, all while you marveled at how Charles did the different voices and intonations.

Now it was just you and him in bed, his naked chest against your own skin, while his familiar hand found its place on your thigh, drawing shapeless figures, enjoying the peace of having you with him.

"I have to tell you something," You made sure to not make eye contact with Charles, hiding your face against his neck.

Charles chuckled with your reaction, "What is it and why are you hiding, bebé?" He tried to get you to face him.

"I know this wasn't planned or anything," you began talking but know Charles felt tears on his chest, it got him worried and helped you sit on the bed while assuring you whatever it was, you'd be able to find a solution.

"Babe, I'm two months pregnant," you announced and Charles placed his hand on his mouth in astonishment.

"No, in Bahrein?" Charles blurted out and a smile appeared on your face, of course that would be his first reaction as his brain processed the news.

You didn't know what you were expecting, maybe it was a problem because Josephine was still too young, maybe Charles didn't want another baby, you never really discussed it after Jo was born, but even in the dark his glossy green eyes were shining as his hand found its known place on your neck, his thumb softly caressing your cheek before lovingly kissing you.

those one of a kind kisses, the ones that were special and held so many emotions. neither of you could hide the smile appearing, only smiling at each other, Charles still caressing your cheek.

but suddenly he dropped his hand to your thigh, an unreadable expression on his face.

"But it's mother day and you're surprising me? No, I have this whole thing planned!" Charles protested and this made your eyes tear up, now it was your time to find his lips.

God, maybe it was time for a boy to mimic his dad.

#charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc au #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fanfic #dad!charles leclerc #f1 x you #f1 x reader

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mauesartetc · 11 months ago

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A while back I got a comment that demonstrated a misconception as to what the character design process actually entails, and I thought it had real "teachable moment" potential. So let me make this perfectly clear:

Drawing a character is NOT the same as designing one.

Let's say I wanted to draw a guy. No backstory, no defined personality traits or preferences, no details about his current life, just doodling some random, generic guy who popped into my head.

That's just a drawing.

But what if I decided to flesh him out more? What if I wanted his appearance to reflect his lifestyle and inner life as well? Here's where the note-taking comes in.

And now for the visual research:

I thought the bodybuilding angle would provide a fun contrast with this guy's profession. The mental image of a huge, burly dude working on a clock or watch with tiny, precise movements just makes me smile. Perhaps I could give him small, nimble hands that would suit his line of work.

Now that I have a better idea of how Mikhail's face and body will look, it's time to establish a pose.

Of course, I never expected to employ all the personality traits I started out with inside this single pose; those were just a jumping-off point. No one drawing will ever be able to encapsulate every single facet of a character, unless they're extraordinarily flat and generic (see also: random guy I doodled at the start of this post). If I wanted to write a story with this guy, I'd have to figure out how all the traits play off each other and how they'd cause him to react to different situations. There would be a lot more note-taking and development involved, but for the sake of keeping this post (somewhat) brief, let's just focus on visuals for now.

On to color!

I decided to give Mikhail a carnation in his pocket (for its round shape), specifically a red one, which represents deep love and an aching heart. Thus, the flower needed to maintain its red color for the symbolism to come through.

For some reason I initially pictured this guy wearing a pink shirt (perhaps as an offshoot of the "romantic" angle), but I wanted to try some different colors inspired by the 70s catalog pages I found. I ended up really liking the contrast of the cool blue shirt with the warm red pants, and that option made it into my top three as a result. I lined them up next to each other to compare them, and in the end, blue won out over pink. I think it also reflects the "colder", more cerebral, less-emotional parts of his personality well (namely "systematic", "stern", and "callous"- one from each column!). Just goes to show that you shouldn't get too attached to your first draft, as better ideas are just around the corner.

I then lightened the blue of the shirt so it wouldn't compete so much with the rest of the outfit, and wouldn't be quite as loud and "in your face". Mikhail strikes me as a bit of an introvert, so the calmer, quieter blue is a better fit. I added a darker belt and watchband and de-saturated the flower just a bit to make the values feel more balanced, and I think we've got it!

Let's see the final result!

Y'all, I was not expecting this process to make me emotional, but there's something special about fully realizing a little guy you've spent hours working on. All of a sudden you look at him and go, "Oh my god, there he is. That's him." This man wasn't even a twinkle in my eye a couple weeks ago and now I'd protect him with my life.

And the thing is, the only reason I'm calling this design "done" for now is that I basically just brought it into existence to make a point. But if this dude were attached to a larger story, he'd be nowhere near finished. I'd have to make a ton more iterations and go a lot more in depth with my research than I did (especially with the Armenian cultural stuff). Overall, though, I hope this quick project properly highlighted the difference between a single drawing and a more fleshed-out character.

Later!

#character design #art tips #art advice #art help #concept art #long post

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respectthepetty · 6 months ago

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I'm here to report on the colors in episode four of Wandee Goodday, but first a few stray thoughts like I have another image to add to my collection of Yak looking at Dee crazy,

yet still going along with whatever Dee wants.

Also, Yak being bothered that Dee didn't immediately think of him as a friend was a good beat in establishing the "friend" portion of their benefits. They are friends who share their lives with each other and scheme together, and I'm glad the show is explicitly stating that.

Because the way the conversation began paralleled the way Yak wants to approach Taem about their relationship - What are we? "Are we datin'? Are we fuckin'? Are we best friends? Are we somethin' in between that?"

But also the nurse stating Yak must care a lot for his lover to get the vaccine and Yak looking immediately at Dee was perfection because 1) safe sex isn't just about you but about the people you are sleeping with,

2) you shouldn't be ashamed of caring about sexual health, so even if you hide behind queer pamphlets, drink water, get the shot, wear the condoms, and use the lube. Also, PrEP isn't just for men just like HPV vaccinations aren't just for women, and

3) it showed that Yak does care enough about DEE, his lover, to take their sexual health seriously -> Yak is on that Bed Friend's King level of sexy, and I'd go through the entire Kama Sutra with them both once all our test results came back clear.

Translations are always iffy but Ter mentioning that Dee wasn't thinking about his professional persona while Yak reminded Dee to not include his face in the pictures and Yei mentioned his brother being fine with Cher when they first started dating gives me hope that this show is going to lean more into the layers of being out because even though that "666" told me Ter was el diablo, he continues to make comments like that and Golf's other show, The Eclipse (which has been featured often in this show) was very much about (not) passing and levels of outness.

Yei and Yak's dad was a world champion boxer, yet he wasn't mentioned in this mom-focused episode and the mom is the one who opened the gym, so is the space that Cher and Yei are giving Yak to figure his feelings out something they weren't given by the father? Because Cher was worried about the pressure Yei was putting on Yak to move up a class.

And if the gym was the mom's, with all of its yellow, is Yak really like his mom as Dee assumed?

Because putting the opening scenes in black and white is an easy flashback technique, but in this particular story, where Yak and his mom are bright yellow, it was a painfully good choice to take the color and brightness out of the scene.

And it was an even better choice to parallel Dee comforting Yak in the same way Yak comforted him with a warmer (yellow) light than his normal purple one.

Because Dee is already in his feelings about Yak without realizing how deep he was, which is why he is wearing a soft yellow while Yak is wearing Dee's fake blue.

When they practiced what Yak would say to Taem, Dee thought about all their moments together, so he is falling quickly, while the signs are pointing out that Yak isn't there yet.

But I wouldn't be there either if I was still daydreaming about this beautiful goddess who always rescues Yak with her brilliance, sassy personality, singular focus, and yellow folders, but that sounds a lot like someone else.

A Purple Prince who is also brilliant and focused on winning but wild and sassy. Good to know Yak has a type. (Sidenote: the music choices swinging between romantic to tension-filled as the scene flipped between Taem and Dee was another great choice)

Because Taem is taken, even if not officially. She matches her guy. She had on a dark brown and black shirt, so he had on a dark brown cardigan with a black tie.

And she had on a brown-striped shirt with a black star, and he had on a brown jacket with black writing and a black tie.

Then again, Dee is no consolation prize. Not looking like that at least.

No wonder Yak is conflicted about what he feels when he looks at Dee because he most certainly is sexually attracted to him because *duh* who wouldn't be attracted to Dee (TER!), but as they sit in Yak's black and yellow room, it becomes more apparent that whatever he is feeling isn't just sexual desire.

And when Dee scratches his back just like his mom used to while tutoring him, it starts to become clearer that Dee, wearing his necklace, and in orange which is sooooo close to yellow fits easily into his life. (Sidenote: Together with Me taught me that in Thai, being itchy is slang for being horny, so good for this show and its layers)

Dee works so well in Yak's life that Yak is willing to get three shots to continue to have sex with him which can take anywhere from eight months to over a year to complete because each dose is spaced out by at least two-to-six months. Basically, Yak committed to a long-term plan . . . with Dee, who is chilling in his yellow-striped shirt.

So it's not surprising that Yak is wearing a deeper blue next week as he holds Dee on the couch since he is far more invested in this fake relationship than he originally intended.

I could write 5,000 more posts about them and this episode which I probably will.

But know that even though the blue Yak is wearing is getting deeper, I will not be satisfied until it turns into purple.

That's when I'll know they are both in love.

#wandee goodday #the colors mean things #color coded boys in love #purple is queer #and Wandee and Yak are gonna be queer af #I'M SO EXCITED!#so excited that I'm putting myself in danger #I gotta chill out #my expectations are so high #what if I don't get purple on Yak?#I'll cry a thousand tears y'all #I'll never recover #don't hurt me show #I have faith you will deliver!

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kyoteugly · 3 days ago

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Inspired by this post I made a fanarts and it turned into a fanfic. All you can find under the cut.

Kiss me

Buck/Eddie | T | 1.1k | with fanart

Buck had no idea how he ended up in a Lakers game which he had no interest in. Well, it wasn't exactly true. He knew he would end up here eventually, tickets were an anniversary gift after all, so it was given that he would be here with his boyfriend. But he didn't have a boyfriend anymore. Or girlfriend. Or even a date. It would be pretty bold to take a newly met person to a Lakers game. That kind of date could end... enthusiastically. But using those tickets to get laid would make him a bad person, right? Nah, he wouldn't do that. It crossed his mind that he should return the tickets, he doesn't even like basketball...

"Yes! Go, go, go! Hell yeah!"

Buck stuffed another fist of popcorn into his mouth, watching Eddie take his seat again. He's so excited - commenting the game to Buck and cheering loudly, standing up whenever emotions take over - it's nice to see Eddie like this, smiling and joyful… looking so… alive.

Right, that's why he's here.

He showed Eddie the tickets and he just froze, looking like a cat who saw a Christmas tree for the first time. With his mouth slightly open in wonder and big eyes reflecting every colorful light in them. Buck didn’t even have to think about it, he just gave both tickets to Eddie. And immediately, before even taking them from Buck’s hand, Eddie said something like “Only if you come with me.” And Buck said “sure” - again, without thinking.

And now he’s here, wearing the only yellow t-shirt he could find, because Eddie insisted he has to wear proper colors, when he showed up at Buck’s loft in a Lakers purple hoodie.

“Great game, we’re gonna win for sure.” Eddie lets out a little huff and runs fingers through his hair to clear it from his flushed face.

Buck thinks he should take that hoodie off, but he’s also sure Eddie would refuse, giving him an offended look. Somehow this image makes Buck smile with fondness.

And a second later it’s gone, because Eddie insolently reaches for Buck’s popcorn.

“Eyy! You said you don’t want, so hands off!” Buck tries to guard his food but Eddie only grins at him like this is some kind of dare and reaches again. This time he’s much faster and Buck is unable to save his snack from Eddie’s grabby hands.

He looks at Buck with a victorious bratty smile, while chewing slowly. Buck gazes at him like a look could kill, but Eddie is not impressed. He simply sucks his Coke through the straw and still grinning turns back to the court.

Finding his own soda cup empty, Buck just pouts with his eyes fixed on the seat in front of him. He definitely doesn’t like basketball.

He lets out a short sigh, and looks around. The intermission should start soon, so if he wants to avoid crowds, he should go get a drink now. But before he gets up, a cup of Coke appears in front of him.

Buck takes it and sinks into his seat with a soft smile and a warm feeling spreading through his chest. Eddie didn’t even look at him, he didn’t have to. Surrounded by all the noise and lights, all the people, he’s still aware of Buck by his side. Excited and engaged in the live game he loves so much, he still sees Buck and knows what he thinks.

It’s so natural, Buck never really thought about it. But now he does and he realizes Eddie is always there for him, no questions asked, honest but not judgmental, no matter what’s going on in his life. No matter if it’s silently drinking beer on a living room couch or going on a game together. Because somehow it feels like Eddie is here not only for his own fun but for Buck as well.

Especially when Eddie nudges Buck to join him, when he starts singing with the most joyful smile on his face.

“Kiss me, out of the bearded barley Nightly…”

And Buck can’t help it but to look… at this unruly stand of dark hair, at those long eyelashes casting soft shadow over honey-colored eyes… at those full lips, singing…

“You'll wear those shoes and I will wear that dress Oh, kiss me…!”

Eddie nudges him again and Buck caves, singing along.

They both look at the screen, watching people smiling and kissing. And Buck is sure Eddie, like always, is here for him. To make him feel this carefree lightness, to simply enjoy the moment, either it’s a game or making fools of themselves singing corny songs on top of their lungs.

They butchered the second verse, none of them sure what the words are, but it doesn’t matter. They laugh like they hadn’t in a long time, together in this freeing act of simply being themselves. And they give all they got when the chorus plays again…

“Oh, kiss me, beneath the milky twilight Lead me out on the moonlit floor Lift your open hand…”

Buck looks at Eddie and he thinks some silly thoughts… how beautiful Eddie is, how happiness makes his eyes sparkle mischievously but at the same his lips curve with fondness… how he knows him and loves him, not despite being Buck, but because of it… he looks at Eddie in this warm golden hue and he thinks he’s like a sun…

Eddie turns to him and Buck immediately avoids his gaze because…

Suddenly Buck sees himself on the big screen and somewhere in the back of his mind he knows he should wave “no” but he can’t… because Eddie is still looking at him, and all Buck wants is to meet his honey-colored eyes.

“So kiss me”

Buck isn’t aware he exhales the lyrics when Eddie gently cups his face. And then he kisses Buck. Softly and oh-so sweetly, with the whisper of longing in the light pressure and delicate movement of his lips. It’s tender, it’s perfect, it takes Buck’s breath away.

And then Eddie pulls away, ducking his head and smiling shyly.

“Sorry… I got carried away.” Abashed, he's scratching the back of his head.

Buck knows he’s blushing, his face is so hot, he’s sure he’s red up to his ears. He wants Eddie to keep kissing him, he wants to kiss him back but before he’s able to process this, Eddie asks sheepishly.

“Can I have some popcorn now?”

Buck laughs, his blue eyes shine with fondness because somehow this question makes him want to kiss Eddie even more. But he doesn’t. They share a snack and get back to watching the game. Buck would never admit to it but he kinda starts to like basketball.

Somewhere during the second half, Buck takes Eddie’s hand, and without taking his eyes off the court, without any questioning look, Eddie squeezes Buck’s hand gently, and throughout the rest of the evening, he doesn’t let go.

#buddie #eddie diaz #evan buck buckely #my stuff #911 abc #911 fanart #buck x eddie #buddie fanart #my fanart #buddie fanfic #ao3 #fluff #first kiss

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woeswrites · 8 months ago

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Yandere Will Graham

Warnings: Yandere themes, Obsessive behaviors, Brief mention of rape/rapist, Dubious consent (mention of sex while under the influence), etc.

Notes: I am trying to be active again (fingers crossed). Headcannons are a really easy way for me to get the creative juices flowing. Don't be surprised if a few more come out after this one lol.

You were a recent survivor of an attack

No, it wasn't the Chesapeake Ripper

It was just some other wannabe serial killer trying to get his rocks off

He had a dumb, stereotypical name too

The midnight slasher? midnight butcher?

Something like that

The media wasn't very creative with it

Whatever his name was, he'd clearly had a type

Young men

All of a similar stature

With the same hair and eye color

All known to known be up at all hours of the day

It was a pretty open and shut case in Will's eyes

He was a plain and simple lust killer

Most likely white and in his 30s-40s

Classic closet case turned homicidal

He hadn't seen why the FBI was so stumped on the whole thing

The only real trouble was the lack of DNA evidence

He'd been real good at cleaning up after himself

Will knew he'd slip up eventually

This wasn't the type of guy to be so well organized for long

Well--

Does being murdered by your most recent victim count as a slip up?

Because that's exactly what happened

He was called to the scene with the rest of the team

The sight of you trembling, covered in blood, and standing over top of that creep was his first impression

You met his eyes and he was unable to pull away

Something about your tear blotched face held him captive

Jack tasked him with asking you questions about the events at hand

Normally this would have annoyed Will

He wasn't the talking type

Let alone someone sensitive enough to make such a traumatized person feel comfortable

But something in him didn't mind so much

Maybe it was the way you looked so vulnerable

Or the fact that no matter how much he pushed the idea away, he saw himself in you

An innocent man turned murderer under the right circumstances

"I'm Will Graham and I'll be asking you some questions."

"God, okay. I'm Y/n. Can't really say it's nice to meet you."

Will tried to start off slow

Ask the basics before moving onto the more pertinent information

You'd answer to the best of your abilities (considering the circumstances)

It took Will a second to jot down your responses

He'd get a little too caught up in your features to notice you'd stop talking

"Sorry, what was that? You got off work at 9?"

There was something admirable about your attempts to infuse your story with a bit of dry humor

Likely a coping mechanism

But Will found himself smiling a bit at your quips

By the time he'd finish up with you he'd felt a little attachment form

Sure the case was over on his end

But it didn't stop him from asking Jack about you

At least a couple times a week

"How's things going with that self defense case? Y/n's...?"

Will showed up the next day with your case fill on his desk

The sticky note stuck to it warned about annoying Jack with too many questions

He'd spend all night re-reading the details

Without noticing he began slipping in and out of re-enactment mode

Imagining you on top of him

Knife in hand

Crazed look in your eyes

He tried to shake the image away

He shouldn't be doing this

It wasn't right

You could've died that night

His guilt ridden thoughts did nothing to lessen the tent that had formed in his pajama pants

He tried to push the idea of you out of his head

Usually he'd have more control over himself than this

His resolve was strong at first

He'd hidden the manila folder away in the depths of his lower drawer

Telling himself he'd drop it

That worked for a couple of days

That was before he started dreaming of you

Events that he hadn't preformed himself took ahold of him

He became your attacker that night

He chased you

He ripped apart your clothes

He was the one who you fought off

He's the one who you thrust that knife into

And he loved every second of it

Wait--

No, he couldn't

This was just his empathy disorder

Yeah!

He was just in character

This definitely wasn't him

He would never want to do any of that stuff

And he'd prove it

He had memorized that file from front to back at this point

It wouldn't be weird that he'd known your address

He was an FBI consultant

It was basically warranted

Will found himself picking out his best clothes that night

His newest jeans, tailored shirt, the works

Not for any particular reason

And his bed was definitely not littered with rejected articles of clothing

This was just going to be a simple checkup, it's not like it really mattered what he looked like

He showed up on your doorstep with the nicest bottle of wine he could find

"Will? Is that you?"

"Uh, yeah it is. Would I be able to come in?"

You welcomed him in, albeit a little confused

"I thought my case was cleared..."

"That's not what I'm here for. I just wanted to check in on you."

You smiled at this

And Will felt his heart ache

You'd invite him to join in on your sorry excuse for a dinner

He'd never accepted anything so fast before in his life

It didn't take long before the two of you got into the wine he'd brought

It was innocent enough at first

Just drinking and talking

You'd mention how life was after the attack

Will shared a little about his experience with GJH

Its the first time he had ever felt so utterly connected with another person before

But then the two of you got a little more than tipsy

And Will found himself leaning in

One kiss turned into another and another

Will felt a sense of static overtake him

Every touch between the two of you sent shivers up his spine

He felt the strong urge to consume

Before either of you knew it your clothes were now in a heap on the kitchen floor

You woke up the next morning with a splitting headache

Oh-- and an FBI agent in your bed

Shock was an understatement

That was when the memories of the previous night flooded back

Will woke up at the loss of warmth

Last night was the best he had slept in years

You wrapped tight in his arms, bodies perfectly intertwined

His heart sank at the look of regret on your face

"We definitely shouldn't have done that. I think you should leave Will..."

He couldn't just leave now

Not knowing what he did

That you two were made for one another

He'd try to calm you down

"Y/n let's talk about this."

You weren't having it

Mentioning how inappropriate this all was

You'd shove his clothes into his arms

Will tried to console you

Not realizing why you were so worked up

You both did just have the best night of your life after all

You'd back away but he'd continue approaching

"C'mon I know you don't really want me to go. Let's just take a second before we make any rash decisions"

"We aren't doing anything. I want you to go. Now."

Something about him coming over while you were still recovering from your distress and it all leading to this...

It just didn't feel right

Will tried to approach once more but you pushed him away

He couldn't help the smile that made its way onto his face

"Push me. Go on, make it hurt."

You were absolutely bewildered

He reached out and grabbed ahold of you

His grip was almost crushing

Like he was holding on for dear life

"I won't leave you alone that easily. Fate brought us together for a reason. You feel it too right? We're one in the same. We're each other's destiny."

He looked crazed, sweat slipping from his brow

It felt just like that night all over again

The knife in your hand as your attacker bled out

Only now Will took his place underneath you

#he/him #male reader #will graham x male reader #will graham x reader #yandere will graham #yandere will #possessive love #NBC hannibal #hannibal #yandere hannibal #yandere NBC hannibal #will #will graham #yandere william graham #william graham

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jessejaredstories · 1 year ago

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Twisted Wish

Matthew was an average, everyday kind of guy from the suburbs. He was the 22 year old only child of happily married parents with middle class standing. He was also in his last year of college with a major in history. The only thing that helped set him apart was the fact that he was gay, but even his sexuality didn't really matter much in a big city full of twinks like him. All things considered, Matthew was a pretty ordinary guy with nothing particularly remarkable about him.

However, just because Matthew lived a normal life doesn't mean he didn't have his own set of problems. For example, he was 22 going on 23 and he was still a virgin who has never even had a real boyfriend. Sure, he had gone on plenty of first dates, but none of them ever went anywhere beyond the first date. It was the lack of romantic and sexual experience that made up Matthew's biggest insecurities. There were nights where he would stay up wondering if he would ever find Mr. Right. But what really made Matthew insecure was his roommate Dave.

Dave was a player. He was a lady's man through and through. In the short year Matthew's known him, Dave had already gone through 3 girlfriends and was currently working on his fourth. But that was just the girls he's dated, Dave's had plenty of side chicks too. Everytime a new one popped up, Matthew already knew he was gonna get sexiled and made himself scarce without Dave asking him to. Despite how often it happened, Matthew honestly didn't mind Dave's horny habits. Though he would be lying if he said he wasn't jealous of Dave. If some frat bro like Dave could get laid anytime he wanted, why couldn't he?

One Saturday night, while Matthew was by himself in the apartment, he spent the evening on his phone. He was endlessly scrolling through several social media sites while streaming some random movie for background noise. Matthew spent several hours online before finally getting tired of his phone. He began closing all the tabs, but during his clicking frenzy, he accidentally hit a pop-up ad. The pop-up took him to another website called "Reality Wizard." The ugly, gaudy colors of the website caught Matthew's interest just before he could exit out. Matthew took a moment to read the website’s welcome message. It read:

“Make a wish and the Reality Wizard will make it come true.”

From what Matthew could gather, the “Reality Wizard” seemed to be some online genie game. It seemed pretty straightforward albeit cheaply made. The little genie avatar had its arms open as if it was beckoning Matthew to make a wish. Something about its digital eyes made Matthew uncomfortable. He felt as if it was somehow looking directly at him despite it just being a static image on his phone. It was surreal to say the least.

But instead of simply exiting out of the website, Matthew decided to play along with it. He didn’t have anything better to do after all, so why not play along and make a wish to a fake genie? Matthew laid back on his bed as he thought about what to wish for. Then after a minute of thinking, he typed in his wish.

“I wish I could get laid just as much as my straight roommate does.”

Matthew chuckled as he finished typing up his wish. While there was some actual sentiment behind it (he was a desperate virgin after all), Matthew found more humor in making the genie respond to something dirty and see what happens. He hit submit and waited. The screen reloaded after a second, but all that changed was the genie’s eyes were now closed. Matthew waited a while longer but nothing else happened.

Once he was bored again, Matthew finally closed out of “Reality Wizard.” The night was still young when Matthew found himself alone with nothing else to do. That was when he decided to do what any other guy would do: jerk off!

Matthew pulled down his sweats and let his soft dick flop out while he pulled up an incognito tab on his phone. He then went straight to PHub to find a good video to rub one out to. But unfortunately for Matthew, there was nothing worth clicking on on the home page. He then spent the next 10 or so minutes searching for a good video. By the time he found one, he had ended up in the MMF video category. Matthew didn’t mind a woman in his videos, he could just focus on the men after all. He hit play, skipped to the good part, and started jerking off.

Between Matthew and the trio in the video, moans and groans quickly began to fill the empty apartment as Matthew pumped away at his cock. Despite being a total bottom, Matthew still had an above average length clocking in at about 6 inches. Even though his dick never saw any fucking action, it still made jerking off fun as he used both hands to stroke himself.

“Aww fuck yeah…” The trio had switched into a sandwich position with one of the men getting fucked while fucking the woman at the same time. Matthew was loving the man on man action. “Fuck that man ass! Make him your bitch!!”

While Matthew was jerking off, the wish he had just made to the “Reality Wizard” began to come true! But not in the way Matthew expected��

The genie’s magic began to take effect. Matthew was always a skinny twink, but the wish he made caused his body to change. His body was quickly gaining weight until Matthew had some heft to his figure. His arms and thighs filled in with the extra mass, as did his chest until he had big enough pecs to grab and squeeze. The same happened to his ass! Although he already had a nice, perky ass before the changes, Matthew now possessed the bubble butt of a gym rat. Even his cock and balls grew until he had an obscenely long and girthy member. His new dick was now 7.5 inches and hung low like a bull with how heavy his cum filled balls had become.

After the extra mass came the body hair. Matthew’s once perfectly smooth body began sprouting hair everywhere! His hair grew out until he had shoulder length curls like Tarzan. His face tingled as a full beard and mustache quickly grew in. His chest and midsection got covered with a fine layer of brown hair. Even his pit and pubic hair grew and grew until he had an unruly forest of hair in each area. By the time the transformation was finally over, Matthew had become an unrecognizable version of himself as he was now a testosterone-filled, hairy beast of a young man.

But even though Matthew just went through a magical transformation, his mind was still focused entirely on jerking off to the video. The two men and one woman were still going hard at it in a line. The camera angles kept alternating between focusing on the two men and focusing on the woman getting fucked. Matt’s favorite was seeing the man’s cheeks getting clapped from behind.

“Oh fuuuck I’m close..”

Matt threw his head back against his pillow. He could feel the pressure building up in his throbbing cock as he was getting ready to shoot his load out. He picked up his stroking speed. He was getting sweaty and red in the face as he was getting closer and closer to finishing.

Matt lifted his head again when he heard the woman begging for more. He kept his eyes focused on the video. The video had a wide shot which showed all three of them. Matt started with the two men, but as he kept stroking, he found his eyes unconsciously gravitating towards the woman. Matt wasn’t sure why he did that. He shifted his attention back to men, but found himself focusing back on the woman again within seconds. Suddenly, the woman was all Matt could focus on. Even if he tried to look away he just couldn’t! Even if he tried to imagine a hot man with a hung cock all Matt could picture was a woman with massive tits! Matt was panting at the sight of the woman’s tiddies bouncing up and down as she took a pounding. Her beautiful body was wet with sex sweat. Seeing her throw her head back as she let out a loud moan made Matthew tremble and twitch with anticipation. He couldn’t take it anymore, he had to burst!

Matt let out a guttural groan as ropes of warm cum shot out of his engorged cock. His hairy chest became drenched with his spunk. Even by the time he finished shooting load after load, his dick was still twitched and throbbing with how much cum he shot out. Matt sighed with relief as he threw his arms back to cool down after such an intense jerk off session. His body hair was dripping with how drenched it was with sweat and cum. On top of that, the room now reeked of a man’s sweaty musk, but Matt didn’t care. He was satisfied and content.

Once Matt finally caught his breath, it was time for him to clean up the sticky mess he just made. His initial instinct was to gather up all his cum with his fingers and then swallow it all, but Matt stopped when he realized how fucking gay that was. He had absolutely no interest in ever tasting cum. After all, why would a straight guy like Matt want to swallow cum?

Matt went to the bathroom and cleaned the jizz off his body. He then went ahead and changed his bed sheets too due to dripping all over them. Once that was done, Matt stood in his bedroom. He then lifted his arm up, letting the wild bush of pit hair hang free as he took a deep sniff of himself. Matt could smell some musk, but decided it wasn’t anything some cologne couldn’t cover up.

“Yo! Anyone home?”

Matt’s ears perked up when he heard his roommate Dave call out. He then walked out and greeted his best bud by dabbing him up. Matt and Dave were brothers from different mothers and were known for their unbeatable bromance.

“Dave, my man! What are you doing home so early!? It’s barely midnight!”

“I know, bro, but check it, Darcy just invited me to go check out this new club downtown with her. It’s hella exclusive, you gotta come with us, Matt! I need my shotgun brother there if I’m gonna club all night!! Plus, Darcy’s got a friend. Brianna, I think you’ll like her…”

“She cute?” Matt asked with an eyebrow raised. Dave nodded. “Cup size?”

“Double D’s, AND she never wears a bra when she goes out! Trust me bro, you gotta meet her, I know for a fact y’all are perfect together!!”

Matt was convinced the moment he heard “D.” He was always a boobs over ass kinda guy after all. Matt quickly got dressed, then went out to have the best night of his life at the club with his bro Dave, ending with them tag teaming Darcy and Brianna in bed. All while Matt was completely oblivious to the fact that the Reality Wizard had granted his wish. Matt definitely got laid just like his straight roommate Dave, just like he wished, although he probably didn’t expect the online genie to twist his carelessly worded wish. Not that Matt really cared about his former self, after all, he had a girlfriend with two very big reasons why he should enjoy the new reality he wished for himself.

#male transformation

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matrixbearer2024 · 2 months ago

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Since the poll is practically over and the outfit's largely been decided, I'll be dropping the first post to the strip challenge in a couple hours on my Ford Blog @gftimelord to christen it HAHAHHA- (psst go bother him it'll be funny HAHHAHAH) Thanks for the interaction everybody, I only hope to deliver. Here's the first drabble to start it off with since I am pairing every drawing with a story sequence as promised. You could probably think of this as my interpretation for some kind of continuation to Ford's route in "Swooning Over Stans" by @gfdatingsim since I've genuinely been non-stop playing that game since it's recommendation to me. I will balance med proper and my delulu if it's the last thing I do HAHAHAHA-

Reply to this post as well if you want to be pinged for whenever this challenge updates!

I Accept Your Challenge!

(Stanford Pines x Reader)

After you heard a new challenge becoming trendy among couples you decide to try it on a certain Stanford Pines; just... you didn't exactly explain to him what the challenge was.

Maybe his competitiveness was a good thing in this case. You at least got a bloody good show out of his cluelessness.

Another slow summer day and you were in the living room of the mystery shack alongside the Pines as they went about doing whatever. Navigating your relationship with a certain scientist definitely somewhat of a learning curve but you digressed. Similar to Dipper and Mabel, you'd receive post cards from the twins about their seafaring adventures; your mail just came with additional special letters from your beloved. All of which you'd neatly stowed away in a bag that you always had with you, no use keeping it at home when you were rarely there.

Often traveling for a nomadic lifestyle was serene and fun at times, but you found yourself missing this place. It felt more like a home to you than your own place did in the couple weeks you'd stuck around after your car got smashed into the side of the log cabin.

Who knew that the same man who totaled your car one day would be the same adorable nerd you now called your lover?

It felt a bit like those romance dramas Stan liked to watch but you quickly dismissed that thought. Fairytales weren't real, fate isn't exactly something you believed in either. Stories of princesses finding their prince charmings were mostly smoke and mirrors, things you'd tell a child to give them hope of a better world than reality.

In gravity falls however... you quickly learned that nothing was truly impossible. Never say never in this small town of Oregon.

You sat on the floor next to Dipper and Mabel as they boredly flipped through TV channels; books, papers and crayons littered about around the three of you. The glass danced with colors from the rapidly flipping images while the twins struggled to find anything even remotely entertaining to watch, you couldn't help but allow your mind to wander from the boredom.

You and Ford spent quite a bit of time since you'd arrived at the beginning of the week, frankly you'd made the trip as soon possible when Stan shot you a message that they'd finally docked to spend the summer with the kiddos. You hoped it wasn't all that obvious how much you missed Stanford, but you didn't really need to worry when he was the one who immediately swamped you up in a hug the second you were out of your car. It's only been two years thus far since you've known the man but Stanley and Mabel insisted that you stay with him in his room, you didn't know why they were so adamant until you saw the state of the man's living quarters.

A whole day was spent with the both of you furnishing and cleaning the said room because of that but neither of you complained, most of the time was spent goofing off anyway.

Now... you were wondering where Ford was, not to mention what he was doing. Was he down in the lab tinkering again? You didn't want to disturb him, but you really wanted to find him. Any time spent apart didn't feel like time used to it's full capacity, even if you did enjoy the company of the other Pines; it just wasn't the same.

At some point, you were bored enough to not necessarily care whether you'd be disturbing Ford's work or not when you went down to the lab. It was just last summer when he taught you how to get down there, as well as spilling more about his past. All of which you simply listened to unless he asked anything; it was better to listen and attempt to understand than say or do something that would make it worse.

Seems like he really wanted to get it off his chest too, be transparent with you; something you appreciated.

You were shaken out of your headspace when you heard the rustling of boxes from the lab, as well as some hushed but frustrated cursing. You didn't really recall a time Ford swore unless he was legitimately ticked off, the man made a valiant effort not to compared to his twin.

But they both had sailor mouths anyhow even if it was fitting.

"Ford? Are you down here?"

"Ah-! [Y/N]! What- what are you doing down here?"

You moved closer to him in an attempt to see what he was doing, even if the man looked a bit rattled to be found like this by you.

"What are you doing?"

"I asked first my dear."

Ford chuckled, shifting to hide something behind his back. You pouted at him and crossed your arms. He couldn't help but smile at how cute you looked doing that.

"Was looking for you, Dipper and Mabel are bored watching TV upstair anyway... sooooo- what are you doing?"

You smiled when Ford returned your inquisitiveness with a small laugh, showing you what he held in his hand. A pair of goggles?

"What's that for?"

"I was attempting to sort through which of my belongings I could still use among the ones I wish to discard. Inadvertently I ended up finding these, I think I could still make use of them."

You tilted your head at him as a silent prompt to continue, it took every bit of control from Ford not to laugh again. You looked like a curious puppy, though he figured he shouldn't say that outright.

"It's simply among the items I collected and kept with me through my time in the multiverse. Protective eyewear can be useful for many things."

"Huh, if you have that— does it mean you still have the rest of the outfit?"

Now it was your turn to think Ford was being cute, he just wordlessly blinked at you in surprise. Was your request really that odd? You'd barely seen him in any other outfit combinations, of course you'd be curious.

"I—... I think I do? Why do you ask?"

"Do you think you'd still be able to rock it like you used to?"

"'Used to'? Excuse me?"

"I mean, it's been a couple years... why don't you try it on again?"

Ford laughed once again from your teasing, the way you sassily tried to goad him on was entertaining in it's own right. He was a bit on the fence about the whole outfit however, especially due to the memories associated with it.

It's not that bad compared to some things he'd found though... maybe he could indulge you.

"Hm..."

"I-I mean, if you really don't want to—"

Your panicked stammering was cut short when a warm palm cupped your cheek, meeting Stanford's eyes as he pressed a chaste kiss to the crown of your head. He could feel your skin heat in up in his hand, hiding a cheeky smile in your hair as he held you there.

"I'll show it to you... as soon as I can find the rest of the outfit."

Ford couldn't help but smile wider when your cheerful laugh rang out; it's the best sound to ever have graced his ears in the time he's been alive. A bit surprising given how many things he's been exposed to, but he couldn't name another chime so pleasant.

"I'll hold you to that Ford."

"And I accept your challenge my dear."

YEAAAAH HERE IT ISSSS- TEXT THING CUZ WE NEED INTRODUCTION-

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skrrts · 2 months ago

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Home Is ✧ hongjoong version (oneshot)

✧ gn!reader x kim hongjoong ✧ genre: non-idol, slice of life, fluff, romance ✧ word count: 1,1k

You have found the love of your life, and now the two of you are ready for the next step in your relationship: moving together. Neither of you can wait to finally be able to spend every day together but it's out of the question ... the whole progress looks a lot more casual and aesthetical on social media than it actually is. Chaos. In the middle of the chaos that is moving in, Hongjoong wants you to enjoy this. Moving shouldn't only be an exhausting memory but something you enjoy. He makes you take a break & you make something for your new home together.

a/n: this wraps up my friday mini series for September. thanks a lot to everyone who has been reading along. i figured concluding it with hongjoong is a fun idea, he's definitely enjoying the progress and it takes all longer but is more fun.

The entire apartment was a mess. Unopened and half-emptied boxes were everywhere, items scattered over the floor, or just placed on top of stored furniture in between made-up couches and a mattress that served as a bed. When Hongjoong and you decided to move together, everything seemed perfect until it wasn't. The promised renovation took longer than scheduled and instead of having time to paint walls and slowly set up furniture, two apartments needed to be emptied for the new tenants within just a few days. Now bedroom and living room were shoved into the atelier so that you could slowly work on painting the walls.

Your mood had taken a toll and you admired your boyfriend, who still looked prettily cute and content while you had no idea where to start or finish for the day. You were thankful for his encouragement for you to go and pick up your dinner for the night, walks always calmed your mind. By the time you came back, you were already feeling better.

You were met by the familiar smell of fresh paintings. Honestly, back in high school you never expected to fall in love with a painter but here you were, in your first shared apartment that also included an atelier.

Hongjoong had moved a few of the boxes together, a plastic tablecloth on top with a large variety of colors prepared from bright to neon and pastels. There were cups of water, pencils and a small pile of canvases.

"This doesn't look like dinner," you teased, his smile growing instantly as he got up to kiss you. "I thought, since we ordered salad anyway, it could wait.- It was a stressful weekend and you deserve some relaxation and fun." Says the one having the time of his life painting the walls in the most stunning gradients by hand.

"Is that so?" you smiled, placing the food aside so he could tug you into a hug, foreheads resting together: "I also really wanted to do something special so we always would remember this first time together."

Hongjoong always was like this, excited and optimistic, trying to make the most out of anything and always looking out to cheer you up. One of the many qualities why you fell for him.

"That sounds perfect," you whispered, a final kiss was placed before he led you over and you sat down on one side of the table. "Now then, what should we paint?"

He was smiling his cute smile, the one that showed he was really excited about doing this with you, making a special memory together. "Anything! Well, I want to put it in the small spot in the living room. You know, the one where you noted we still haven't picked anything. And no, you aren't allowed to worry, just have fun. Pick any color you want! Those are my leftovers and I really need to finish them so we also do something good."

Hongjoong was very dedicated to his art, the joy of painting but also not to waste anything. He was very content to use every last drop of paint before buying a new one.

"Alright, let's do this," you chuckled. It felt a little surreal how you were sitting in such a mess but you tried to focus. The image that came to mind first was how your living room would look like when all was set up. There was a tiny balcony and you got a new couch, some messy curtains with a pattern Hongjoong chose, and bold pillows.

It was nice to imagine what the result would be, like recharging the stress of the past few days. Once you decided what to go for, the rest was easy. You were the type to get lost in whatever you were doing. Making a few rough sketches then trying colors on spare paper.

For a while, it seemed Hongjoong was doing the same but by the time you were half way done, the soft click of his camera made you look up, blushing.

"Hey!"

he chuckled sweetly, looking innocent as he rushed to place the phone back down on the table. "Couldn't resist, you are just so cute when you are all lost in progressing."

He was right but you were still pouting: "Sush! You should rather finish your painting." Hongjoong smirked, showing you his already completed free-style art, it was beautiful but you got shy because it was a version of you, here and now.

"Cheating," you mumbled, your cheeks just more red as you cleared your throat. "How about you help me then?" Hongjoong smiled brightly, it was one of the happiest looks you had seen him with and he stood up, sitting behind you, partly pulling you onto his lap.

"I can't wait, our home. Our own little happy place," he whispered, pressing a kiss on your cheek before taking a spare pencil and helping you finish your painting. By the time you finished, you couldn't deny how relaxed you felt.

Hongjoong's arms curled around your waist as you relaxed back against him, your eyes closed when he just held you like that. "This is nice," you admitted. I feel, living with you really won't ever be boring."

Your boyfriend chuckled: "Well, it surely will be a little chaotic but I am your favorite chaos after all."

So silly!

Hongjoong bit his lip, he looked at you and when your gazes met, there was no denying there were many more thoughts but those were kept for another day.

"Dating, moving together... don't care where exactly the journey will take us but meeting you, it has been my best adventure... And always will be my favorite."

You poked his cheek but smiled: "And now you are all sappy. Feel my heartbeat? Always all wild for you."

The man grinned as he finally slowly stood up, your eyes wandered over the mess that was just in every part of your new home. "Quite a bit of work to do," he sighed, pushing brown hair back: "But for today, I think we did enough. Let me put our artwork aside and clean up, then we can eat."

You gave him a quick nod, wiggling your hands covered in dried paint. "I will clean those."

Hongjoong nodded and started to carefully put the painting tool in a bowl to clean it, as you stopped in the door, you looked at him, adoring, loving.

You really were lucky, chaos or not. This home was your dream come true, always wishing to move together with whoever the love of your life would be and you did quite a good pull with this one, right?

"Joong, you know... after we ate, maybe we should properly test out our big new bathtub," you grinned. His cheeks flushed when he looked up, mumbling something.

This time you laughed: "Leave it to me, I will prepare it."

Hongjoong rolled his eyes as the two of you smiled at one another. Now, you were both home.

#hongjoong x reader #hongjoong x you #hongjoong oneshot #ateez x reader #ateez oneshot #ateez au #ateez writing #kim hongjoong x reader #hj tag #home is #fluff tag #reis writes

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lizzychanstuffss · 2 months ago

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Remembrance: Love and Deepspace AU 3

Au premise: So, what if mc actually remembered everytime she's reincarnated, and what if she regrets the choices she's made in every single reincarnation and is finally using this timeline to try and fix it once she realizes this might be her only chance. But she is entirely unsure if the boys remember their past lives with her, so she must navigate all these feelings along with judging if they remember too. AN: Raf time, I may not be a ref girlie but god this man has such good lore I am very invested from what I have seen. Also, shout out lads lore girl Ellie! I legit wouldn't know enough about the guys to write this if she wasn't doing those summaries on tiktok. Also, this might be shorter than the others I actually have no idea I just end them when I feel like it's at a good point.

Chapter 3: Rafayel Prologue

Scrolling on your phone while you were at home, looking at different posts and videos that came across your feed. That was until a name and face crossed your feed that you hadn't expected to see. 'Rafayel's new exhibit in Linkon opening!' And as if a ghost took hold of you, you clicked on the post to look at the details. And to your surprise, it was opening today. There was a part of you that said you shouldn't go, it would hurt to much. But then there was another that desperately wanted to see and be involved in anything he was doing. So before you knew it you were getting dressed and heading out the door to the art exhibit.

You wore something simple but nice, you blended into the crowd of people coming to look at the masterworks. In truth, you had never seen any of Rafayel's paintings. Considering that he wasn't exactly a painter in your past lives. You continued deeper into the exhibit you didn't even bother looking at what type of paintings would be on display. There was a part of your mind that told you just to leave, what if you saw him? What would you even do? Spill everything instantly?

He has every right to hate you.

Letting out a soft sigh you were about to head out until something caught your attention out of the corner of your vision. It was a lone small painting. No one was really stopping to stare at it either, so against better judgment you walked over to get a better look.

The colors were beautiful you could tell he had painted this one with a different kind of care than the others. Of course taking in the full image you knew it was a painting of Lemuria, the kingdom under the sea you spent a time in. Closing your eyes as you thought back to your time together, as you thought more tears threatened to escape from you. But you simply opened your eyes and wiped away the salty mist.

"You have good taste" A familiar voice spoke to you from the side. Slowly you turned your head to see purple hair and the face of a youthful man.

You blinked a couple times before finally replying to him obviously he was eager for one. "T-thanks..." You looked back to the painting before asking "That's the kingdom of Lemuria right?" You asked even if you already knew the answer.

"Yes, no one else has been able to figure that out" He moved a bit closer to you. You just stared at him raising an eyebrow.

"So then do you study Lemuria in your free time then?" You began to ask. It was a question that depending on the answer you knew would change some things.

"I suppose you could say that, what about you, are you a scholar or something?" He playfully asked, clearly, he was treating this meeting like a game.

You always wondered if your first meeting would have always gone something like this. Trading jabs and jokes while he sassed you, you had the chance to find out before but you were to much of a coward back then to do anything about it. You even passed him in the hallways of your college a couple times. But honestly, you hoped he didn't remember those times, even if you counted every single one hoping that one day he would call out your name again and embrace you like he had before. That the two of you would run off into the sunset and elope. But that wasn't this, this was instead a sassy merman questioning your knowledge about a ruined kingdom.

"Actually I'm a hunter, I just have an interest in Lemuria" You smiled at him, it was a really fake and shitty smile, but it was a smile.

"uh huh..." He seemed unconvinced by your words gaining an eyebrow twitch from you.

"What don't you believe me?" You scoffed.

"And if I don't?" He crossed his arms a playful smirk on his lips. You could tell that he was enjoying this quite a bit. Which made you wonder.

Could he... remember?

"Let me prove it then, why don't we get coffee and I can show you my collection of books on the topic" Crossing your own arms now certain he wouldn't turn down something lik-

"Nah, don't wanna" You instantly deflated at his answer.

"Oh...." You stayed silent a moment unsure where to take this conversation after that awkwardness. "Well, I should go home then" Begining to turn around you almost walked away before Rafayel grabbed your wrist. Slowly you turned back to him waiting for his next words.

"I still want you to prove it to me, but not with some book collection" His words were slightly desperate, a slight plea in his tone. You bit your lip but slowly moved back to stand slightly closer to him.

Were you always this weak for him...maybe not but it certainly feels like it when he does something like this.

"Alright sure, but how exactly?" You raised a brow and he looked to the side pondering before he slumped his shoulders in defeat.

"I-....I don't know"

Feeling bad for the dramatic fishie now you patted his shoulder comfortingly "It's okay, so then why don't you tell me the real reason you wanted me to not leave"

He looked at you with puppy dog eyes, trying your best to contain how much this actually pulled on your heartstrings you gave him a weak smile.

"You said you were a hunter right?" He asked his cheeks puffing up slightly as he obviously was planning something. You slowly nodded.

"Well then, I'm in the market for a bodyguard"

"Will you pay me or is this a volunteer gig?" You raised a brow as you spoke, as much as you would drop your entire hunter career to be his bodyguard, you knew that wasn't exactly a smart choice fiancely especially if he didn't remember you.

"It can be" He shrugged a bit.

"Either you pay me or I leave"

"Deal" He gave you those puppy dog eyes again almost as if he needed this as much as you did. Sighing you nodded.

"Alright, well I guess you have a new bodyguard on your payroll Rafayel" You winked at him unable to stop from teasing the man. His ears turned red as he puffed out his cheeks.

"You can go for now then...come to my studio tomorrow and we can work out the details" He crossed his arms as he spoke before walking away before you got to ask where his studio even was.

"Welp...see you later Rafayel" You smiled to yourself before turning to leave the exhibit.

#lads rafayel #rafayel x reader #lads x reader #rafayel x you #rafayel x mc #rafayel x y/n #love and deepspace #lads writing #my writing

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icarusredwings · 2 months ago

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Something I thought about while walking the kiddos home since it's cubscout week, there are a lot of signs and posters.. what if Wade has a really tore up picture of him as a scout?

The edges are torn, and one side looks burnt as if he tried to burn it but stopped because he couldn't "burn" his younger self. It's so folded up that there's creasing in the picture. But the right smack dab in the middle is Wade standing there with a huge smile.

He's a twig. It's a really scrawny tiny shitty hair cut blonde kid. He's smiling so wide that you can't see his eyes, but it dosn't matter because the colours are so faded that you wouldn't be able to tell the color of them anyway. He's got a huge pack on his back.

It's so big that it's as big as he is. He's holding one of the straps, and on the other hand, he's holding up a fish that he caught. He's so proud of himself despite the fish being only a bluegill.

The sash that he's wearing has a couple badges on it. Backpacking, camping, canoeing, and swimming. It's obvious in this picture that he was working to get his flyfishing badge.

It enrages Logan when he sees it by accident. He was cleaning the room and complaining about how much junk wade shoved under there only to find this picture. It only takes him a few seconds to put everything together. The longer he looks at it, the more enraged he gets, to the point of tears.

THIS is who all this happened to? Him? This tiny innocent child?! All that pain? All this suffering? All because someone saw this bushy tailed bright eyed kid and thought something so vile, so disgusting, that to this very day Wade says he feels as ugly on the outside as he does on the inside because of it?

He's heaving, growling, and that vein is going pop out of his forehead any second now when Wade comes in. He was about to make a joke about how he didn't know where all those magazines came from when Logan snaps his head to him. His eyes quickly soften as his heart shatters more at the look of instant fear and flashback on Wades face. He swallows, looks away. Immediately gets tears in his eyes.

"Im sorry.. I.. Oh fuck wade... I should have never.."

By now, he's holding himself, leaning against the wall. He shakes his head. "It just... It wasn't his fault."

At first, Logan stares at him with a 'are you a fucking idiot?!' Look before looking down at the picture, now shaking his head. "No.. No, it wasn't. Nothing was his fault."

Sliding down the wall, he became a ball, putting his head in his knees. He's sobbing, but it's silent. The kind that makes your chest tighten so hard that you're afraid it might physically break. "I-.." he starts.

"I..it hurt so bad.."

The smallest whisper.

"I know.. I know. You killed him, though. If anything, he got the easy way out." Logan tells him, sniffling as he puts the picture back where he found it. "Imagine if I got ahold of him." He says through grit teeth, growling deeper.

A tiny chuckle comes out of Wade, leaning his head back against the wall, looking up at the ceiling, and trying to wipe his tears, but they don't stop coming. "I S-sliced his dick up like a hot dog.."

Logan can't help but groan and shake his head at the image.

"Oh great. You ruined hot dogs for me..."

#tw rape #cw rape mention #tw sa #cw sa mention #tw csa #tw csa mention #deadpool and wolverine #poolverine #logan howlett #deadpool #wade wilson #deadpool 3 #wolverine #the wolverine #fuck scout master kevin

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pamwritessometimes · 3 months ago

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British Invasion

Soldier Boy x (British)fem!reader

Summary: Soldier Boy is forced to attend a lavish gallery opening for an emerging artist, expecting nothing more than a typical evening of pretentious small talk and overpriced art. But when he gets to know the artist herself, he quickly realizes they might share more than one thing in common.

proofread & edited on 8/21/24

Warnings: unprotected SMUT (be smarter), pet names, some 60s slang, breeding kink if you squint, terrible writing, AmE and BritE use is varied based on the characters

Word Count: around 4.7 k

Author’s Note: This is my VERY first fic I have written since I was a teenager. English isn’t my first language, so I apologise for any mistakes. Please be kind. 🤍 All kinds of feedback are appreciated!

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May, 1962.

He tried his best to understand what he was looking at. The colours danced in a confusing symphony - deep red lines flashing across the canvas, yellow streaks breaking through the tainted blue background. It was an odd mix of serenity and unease, a puzzle that felt both ambiguous and crystal-clear. Not that he had any expertise in art, he was a superhero, after all. Analyzing abstract paintings was hardly part of the job description. Thank God and Vought for that. He didn't even know why he was there in the first place, stripped of his imposing suit, which at least gave him the semblance of authority. “This will do wonders for your image. Supporting some up-and-coming artists is exactly what we need to repair that reputation you seem so determined to destroy.”

“Yeah, fuck that.” he thought, scanning the room until his eyes landed on a tray of champagne glasses amidst the other hors d’oeuvres. At least there was free booze. He swiftly grabbed a glass, downed it in one go, and swapped it for another. He barely noticed the presence next to him when he stood back to pretend to interpret the same painting he had been looking at for the last fifteen minutes.

"Do you like it?" a voice with a soft British lilt called out from his right. He turned to see the source—a striking beauty with (Y/H/C) hair styled in a classic beehive. Her makeup was flawless, with bold eyeliner and red lipstick that enhanced her gorgeous features. The elegant black dress she wore hugged her curves in all the right places, and for a moment, he felt his already tight pants grow even more uncomfortable. "You’ve been staring at it for quite a while."

He quickly gathered himself, a charming smile sliding into place as he responded with feigned confidence.

"I do, yeah. I really like the... uh, colors and how... this line curves," he replied, trying his best to sound like he knew what he was talking about. “It… makes one feel uncertain and… and certain at the same time.”

“Does it?” she asks, her sceptical eyes glued to the canvas. "To me, it just brings back memories of a February night when I drowned my sorrows in a cheap bottle of rum after finding out I didn’t get into RCA."

His brows furrowed as he looked at the girl next to her taking a sip of her champagne. “You painted this?” he asked. She just nodded in response, her eyes still fixed on the framed painting. “Busted” she chuckled awkwardly. He looked back at the artwork once more and it suddenly all made sense. It was a testament of chaos, the rage and unsettle she must have felt when creating it. Plus, being drunk while creating something? That, he could understand. “I’m (Y/N)... (Y/L/N). But I believe you figured that out.” she said as she nodded to the signed painting.

He smiled and nodded. “Benjamin,” came the reply. “But please, just call me Ben.”

She nodded and smiled at him. “So, Ben… What brings you to London?”

“I'm here for work.” he replied casually. It wasn't a complete lie, per se. He could tell the truth, she will learn it soon anyway. But for now, he just wanted a normal conversation, free from the weight of being America’s Greatest Hero. Just for a couple of minutes.

“I see” she said as she eyed him with great attention to every detail of his appearance. His dirty blonde hair was slicked back with a sophisticated touch, and his tailored suit and slacks fit him impeccably. "Are you some kind of actor?" she asked finally.

“Among other things.” his tone playful, reflecting on the fact that he enjoyed her not recognizing him. “Why?”

"I was just wondering," she shrugged, finishing the last sip of her drink. "When I first saw you, I thought, ‘He’s either a soldier, a businessman, or an actor.’ Your physique suggests military, but then I took a closer look at your suit, and– may I?" she asked, lifting her hand toward his jacket. With a nod, she touched the fabric. "As I suspected. Kid mohair. No soldier I know could afford that. So, that left businessman or actor. Now, here comes my first observation: your athletic build. If you were an accountant or something like that, you probably wouldn’t be this fit. So, my conclusion? You’re an actor." She smiled, clearly pleased with her deductive reasoning.

He chuckled, clearly amused by her careful observation. “You are quite the observer, aren’t you, sweetheart?” he asked.

That she was. Her favourite hobby was studying people. Every little feature, every line and detail that made them unique. Later, she would capture those fascinating subjects in drawings from memory. Any details that became hazy would be filled in by her imagination. She did the same to him; just memorising his lines (though the nickname almost made the whole process cease).

“So this whole happening… is it all for you?”

She just scoffed. “They say it is” she started, though her face was soaked with clear annoyance. “But I believe it’s more for my agent. He said he found great patrons for this current collection. They want me to go overseas for a potential business proposition.”

At the mention of that, Ben's eyes gleamed with a mischievous spark. The Vought executives had briefed him on their plans to renovate the entire Tower. Stronger foundations, new levels, and, of course, fresh furnishings and decor. That was the real reason he was here in the first place. For whatever reason, Vought wanted (Y/N)'s artwork to grace the Tower's walls. He’d flown in with some executives to evaluate her latest collection, to decide whether it was worth the investment. It wasn’t his decision, of course; he had no real say in the final call. But to the public, he was the face of Vought, their most powerful representative, so his presence was required by his superiors.

“Miss (Y/L/N), it is time” the aforementioned agent’s voice cut through their conversation. She took a deep breath before turning to face the charming looking man in his early thirties.

“I’ll be there in a minute, Greg.”

Greg then nodded and smiled at the two. “I see you met one of your patrons already.” he said as he nodded towards Ben. “It’s an honour to have you here, Soldier Boy. I hope you enjoy your time in our country.”

Ben nodded, a smug grin spreading across his face as he kept his gaze locked on (Y/N), who now wore an expression of stunned realisation. She had only just realised who she had been casually conversing with. “I’m enjoying it so far, very much,” he replied, his voice dripping with satisfaction.

“Alright, Miss (Y/L/N), please say goodbye to the gentleman and follow me.” Greg interjected, his tone formal and clipped, as if he were conducting some high-stakes business transaction.

She swallowed the urge to roll her eyes at the mannerism of the whole conversation. That was one of the many things she hated about the art society she was part of. The pretentious idiosyncrasy and the sense of being loftier than the others. If she had the resources to fund her own artistry, she would leave it all behind. But unlike her peers, who all came from money, she wasn’t that fortunate. Her parents, God bless them, did everything they could to support her, but it was never enough for her to break free. Now, under the thumb of Greg—THE Gregory Alcons, the most influential artist agent in the region—she had little choice but to play along.

Still a bit flabbergasted by the previous revelations of Ben’s identity, she managed to compose herself and glanced at his green orbs. “It was nice meeting you, Soldier Boy. I hope to see you around,” she said, her voice steadier than she felt.

As she turned to follow Greg, Ben couldn’t tear his eyes away from the way her hips swayed in that sinfully tight black dress. If he didn’t know better, he might just think it was all for him.

(Y/N)’s speech was a drag. Even she knew that. Every word was scripted, every pause rehearsed, her smile a mask. Like a goddamn politician–she often thought to herself. Nonetheless, her official duties of the gathering still didn’t end, but she could now move around more freely, trying to charm the people gathered in the museum, occasionally sipping on champagne to look for that blitzed state she was so eager to reach. She just wished she had something stronger. During her museum circles, she heard some speeches that she couldn't care less about. Mostly influential old hags talking nonsense about the importance of art patronage and trusting the vision of an artist... She also heard Soldier Boy's brief speech, but she was too occupied to talk to the other guests, she couldn't stop and listen to it.

The smooth jazz tunes created an atmospheric scene, adding to the illusion of sophistication. The guests seemed to be amazed by it all–the champagne, the music, the elegant attires, the modest speeches… yet, she couldn’t care less. This wasn’t her world. It was all a grand performance, and she felt like an imposter in the spotlight of her own art exhibition. She was chatting with a man in his early to mid-seventies about the long-term consequences of giving freedom riders a platform to talk when a familiar rumble cut though the conversation.

“Can I borrow Miss (Y/L/N) for a minute?”

Relief washed over her as she turned to see Ben—no, Soldier Boy—in his full supe attire, helmet and all (he certainly just finished his speech duties, too). If she had to pretend to share one more of the old man’s bigoted views, she might have committed murder. Soldier Boy was by far her greatest conversation partner tonight, and probably the most tolerable person in the room, which speaks for how entertaining the gathering is. The elderly man tried to hide his disappointment, but reluctantly let her go.

“Wow,” she muttered, taking in Soldier Boy’s imposing presence. “Now, this is the Soldier Boy I’ve seen in the telly.” Her voice dropped to a sheepish tone. “And… sorry for not recognising you earlier.”

“Can’t say it didn’t hurt,” he replied with a smirk “But it’s also nice knowing that it’s the suit that most people recognize, not my face.”

(Y/N) offered Soldier Boy another small, apologetic smile before letting her eyes drift across the room. The jazz band was playing a smooth set that impressed the crowd but grated on her nerves. The soft melodies and gentle horns just didn’t resonate with her. If she had her way, she’d have had her friends, Gerry & The Pacemakers, play instead—something with real energy, something raw. But, of course, that wouldn’t have flown with Greg or the rest of the stuffy art crowd. They were too wrapped up in their own pretentiousness to appreciate anything that didn’t fit their narrow idea of ‘classy’.

She took another sip of champagne, but it did little to ease her frustration. She felt trapped, stuck in a night that was supposed to be hers but felt like anything but. All she really wanted was to be with real people, having real conversations, and listening to music that made her feel alive. Instead, she was here, pretending to enjoy the company of people who saw her as nothing more than a name to drop at their next social event.

“You’re not exactly enjoying this, are you?” Soldier Boy’s voice cut through her thoughts, bringing her back to reality. His tone was amused, but there was a hint of genuine curiosity there too.

She looked up at him, surprised he noticed. “Is it that obvious?” she asked with a slight smile.

“To most people here? Probably not. But I can tell,” he said with a shrug. “You’re too real for this crowd.” He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “How about we get out of here?”

(Y/N) hesitated, glancing around the room filled with guests who were supposed to be admiring her work. “I wish I could go somewhere more fun. But this is my show. Not mine mine, obviously, but I can't just disappear,” she said, sighing. “Plus, Greg would kill me if I bailed.”

Soldier Boy smirked, undeterred. “I’m not saying ditch the whole thing, just take a break. Clear your head, get away from all this for a few minutes.” He paused, lowering his voice. “You deserve that much, don’t you?”

She bit her lip, tempted by the offer. The idea of stepping away, even just for a little while, was more appealing than she wanted to admit. Especially with such a handsome-looking bastard. “And where exactly would we go?” she asked, intrigued.

His smile widened, a mix of charm and mischief. “Trust me,” he said, offering his arm. “You’ll like it better than this place.”

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She would lie if she said she didn’t see this coming. She was more than a bit tipsy, but who is she to fool? She would’ve followed Ben to the staff restroom sober, without any question. She needed to release some tension, and he was more than happy to oblige. His calloused thumb was drawing invisible circles on her swollen clit as his cock pounded in and out of her juicy, tight hole.

“Fuck, sweetheart–” he growled into her ears as his other hand was leaning on the counter, trapping her body between the cold surface and his heated body. It was all quick, filthy, but –oh so needed. Her watery eyes were locked on his reflection in the mirror as she observed both his ecstasy-filled pupils and her rather dishevelled appearance. Either of her boobs were bouncing with each harsh thrust of his hips, stark contrast to that tight black dress that still clung to the rest of her body.

How they ended up like this was both a blur and a logical consequence of their desire. One moment they were talking, and the next, they were stumbling into the restroom, hands all over each other. Soldier Boy’s strong body pressed her back against the door, his lips crashing against hers with a fierce hunger. She didn’t hold back, kissing him with just as much intensity. She melted into his lips and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him coser. She gasped softly as his tongue swiped against her lower lip, asking for entrance. She granted it, his tongue slipping past her plush lips and exploring her mouth while her hands were busy finding a way to rip off his tactical vest. Fuck, why does a supe suit has to be so complicated?

He soon noticed her efforts to undress him, so he leaned back for a moment with that same smug grin he always seemed to wear, and began to take his suit off. She hurried to do the same when Ben’s voice commanded her to stay put. “That dress stays.” he said, his voice low and sultry. “Couldn’t tear my eyes off of you, you know that? Wearing a dress so fuckin’ tight… swaying your hips like you did… was it all just to drive me crazy, huh?” he asked as he got rid of her suit, now standing in front of her in his naked glory.

She swallowed hard once his member sprang free–erected, the fat tip leaking with pre-cum. She obliged to his requests by rolling the skirt of the dress up to her perky butt. With delight, he discovered that she was wearing black panties with delicate lace trimming, which was overall already ruined by her soaked cunt. He growled at the sight, grabbing the base of his cock to pump himself a couple of times. She was about to pull her panties down, when he spoke up again. “Those also stay.”

“You are having many commands just for a little hookup” she remarked as she leaned her body closer to his, her palms replacing his on his shaft. Her hands were soft against his skin, his dick twitched by the touch. She pumped him a few times before stopping and releasing him completely. He let out an annoyed huff that quickly turned into a satisfied moan when he felt her hands once more around his cock, now coated with her saliva to add more to the pleasure and to prepare him to enter her already weeping pussy.

Soldier Boy swiftly gripped her hips and spun her around to face the sink and the mirror above it, returning them to the position they’d just been in. “You’re a real tease, aren’t you?” he growled, his voice thick with desire. She could feel the need in his tone, matching the flame that burned inside her. He lifted one of her legs, giving himself better access, and she braced herself against the counter, anticipation running through her veins. “You're so beautiful. A beautiful tease.” he kissed a line along her spine.

“Yeah…you are just as much of a—” before she could finish the sentence, she felt the tip nudge at her entrance after pulling her panties to the side. It was that moment she finally came to terms with how huge he was. Seeing it, palming it wasn’t enough. Feeling the head of his cock spreading her folds was a whole other sensation. Before he would properly enter, he asked. “You sure you want this?” She couldn’t help but moan, her mind completely taken over by anticipation. Not trusting her voice, she just nodded fervently and pressed herself against him more. That was all Soldier Boy needed. He took a shaky breath and eased himself into her dripping cunt. The only sound in the room was their mingled, sinful noises that escaped both their mouths.

“Fuck….so tight…so fuckin’ wet…” Ben growled as quietly as he could. They were still in that museum, just a few rooms away from the exhibition. As much as he wanted people to hear them, he knew she would probably prefer their affair to stay hidden.

He kept one hand on her hips, guiding her movements, while the other slid up her stomach, to her exposed breast, his fingers gently tracing over her sensitive nipple. The way it bounced at every thrust, every movement, and how the nipple hardened at his touch… Soldier Boy was known for his supe stamina, but he was already on the edge of coming undone. She was closely behind, her moans and gasps were music to his ears in a sinful symphony as she clenched her hands around the edge of the sink.

“Ben…please…”

“What? What do you need, honey?” he cooed.

“Please… h-harder.” it was more of an incoherent muffled cry than a plea. But he understood nonetheless. He ceased his speed, his hips clashing against hers in a relentless motion. He groaned, his body moving supernaturally fast, his grip on her hips almost bruising on her sensitive skin.

His mouth attacked her neck, finding her sweet spot, the one that seemingly made her go feral. He sucked and bit that one spot like a madman, being on the mission to elicit as many sounds from her as he could.

“Fuck…baby, youre gonna kill me.” he mumbled into her neck. He felt he was nearing his climax and he needed to make sure she was there with him. He redoubled his efforts, his body moving against hers in a rhythm that was both brutal and beautiful. “You are squeezing me so fuckin’ tight. Shit, I can feel your pretty little cunt trying to push me out.” he said and delivered a brutal thrust to the hilt, burying himself inside for a moment. “Fuuuuck.”he said as he stopped to feel her convulsing pussy. He could feel she was close too.

His voice, his words and the way his twitching cock was balls deep inside of her made her go feral. “Soldier Boy, I…please… I need to–” his fingers stopped their ministrations on her nipples and found their way to her sensitive bundle of nerves.

“What do you need, honey? Do you want to come? Do you want to soak this big, fat cock, huh?” he asked as he began to move again slowly, his gaze locked at hers in the mirror. Fuck, she looked even more phenomenal than at the grand hall. Her neatly made beehive now a bit more messy, her red lips were a bit smudged, her eyes hazy…Truly a sight to behold. When she didn't answer, he delivered a harsh slap onto her clit. “I asked you a question. Do you want to soak my dick, baby?” he asked and buried himself to the hilt once more, his own climax nearing the edge, too.

“Fu–Yes! Please, let me come on your cock, please, make me squirt all over you… please…” she urged, looking at his reflection.

Her words made her already aching shaft twitch deep inside of her, and with a throaty rumble he set a ruthless pace. His cock was laced with her wetness, the sight making Ben go ferocious. “I’m gonna come into this tight little pussy. I’m gonna pump my load into you. Fuck, come with me, baby, soak my dick.”

Their breath hitched almost at the same time. His fingers were still working their wonders around her clit. Her pussy almost pushed him out when she came, her cum gushing over his shaft. While he made sure to ride her orgasm out, she felt him spilling his seed deep into her hole, dribbling out from her down to his balls. His slowled his pace, but the strength didn’t cease, making sure he fucked his white hot cum back inside of her.

Once they both came down their highs, they found their eyes going back at their reflection. His satisfied grin, her spent expression, their mingled, joint bodies… Besides being absolutely filthy, there was something more behind that scenery…

After catching their breaths, Ben slipped out of her, quickly pulling her panties back to their place to hold up his cum. He saw her panties being soaked with his climax, which elicited a moan from him. “Now that’s a sight, darling.”

She just laughed breathlessly and rolled her skirt back down, putting her tit back into the confinement of that dress. “That was… just what I needed. Thank you.”

(Y/N) glanced at her reflection in the mirror, cheeks flushed, her breath still unsteady from the intensity of what had just happened. She watched as Soldier Boy straightened up and casually began putting his suit back on. There was something about his calmness, his complete lack of urgency, that made her heart race all over again. He caught her eye in the mirror and flashed that mischievous smirk she was starting to find dangerously attractive.

“M’just happy to help the artist out,” Ben shrugged, the smirk never leaving his face. His voice was playful, but his gaze was laced with something deeper, something that made her pulse quicken. As he fastened the last strap of his vest, he turned to her, an eyebrow raised in challenge. “Don’t you… wanna get out of here? For real?”

(Y/N) bit her lip, torn between the temptation of escape and the nagging responsibility of the exhibition. The thought of ditching this pretentious gathering for something—anything, really—more genuine was almost irresistible. But despite her wild child tendencies, she was still aware of her responsibilities. “Ben, I still have this exhibition,” she said, her voice softening. “I can’t just leave. Greg would have a heart attack if I walked out right now.”

Ben chuckled, stepping closer until he was just inches away. “And you care about that?” he asked, his tone low and teasing, but with a seriousness beneath it. “You really wanna stick around, playing nice with assholes who wouldn’t know real art if it smacked them in the face?”

She hesitated, knowing he was right. Everything about this night felt wrong, but she still felt trapped by the expectations that came with it. “It’s not that simple,” she murmured, almost to herself. “This is my career.”

He reached out, gently tipping her chin up so she had to look at him. “You’re not one of them, you know that,” he said, his voice firm but not unkind. “You don’t belong here, with these people who only care about what you can do for them. You deserve more than that. Plus, you’ve already got that deal with Vought. Why would you care about any other guests?”

His words hit her harder than she expected. He wasn’t just trying to lure her away for some fun; he was calling out what she had been trying to ignore all night. She sighed, feeling the weight of the evening press down on her again. “But where would we even go?” she asked, though the resistance in her voice was fading.

“Anywhere you want,” Ben replied, his eyes lighting up with the possibility. “Somewhere where you can breathe, where you don’t have to pretend.” He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “You said you wanted fun tonight. Let’s go find it.”

She looked at him, really considering his offer this time. The idea of leaving it all behind, even just for a night, was more tempting than ever. She knew it was reckless, maybe even career suicide, but there was a part of her that didn’t care anymore. Not tonight. Tonight, she wanted to feel alive.

Slowly, she nodded. “Alright,” she said, her voice stronger now. “Let’s get out of here.”

Ben’s smirk widened, satisfied. “Atta girl,” he murmured, taking her hand in his. He pulled her toward the door, and as they slipped out of the restroom, a thrill shot through her. She was leaving behind everything that had been weighing her down all night, walking away from the people and the pretence, and into something unknown but undeniably exciting.

As they made their way through the back halls of the museum, she felt a strange sense of freedom. The further they got from the exhibition, the lighter she felt, like she was shedding a skin she’d outgrown long ago. She didn’t know where Ben was taking her, but for the first time in a long time, she didn’t care. She was done pretending.

And as for Soldier Boy... maybe coming to this exhibition wasn't such a bad idea after all.

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Thanks for reading. <3

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