#also this is unedited so dont read to closely

[enjoythesilentworld]

was thinking about them yesterday. and by them i mean CrimeBoss!Wille x Detective!Simon who definitely don't hate each other.

rather than plotting i wrote this standalone scene which assumes i have done a lot of plotting. it was a mind exercise okay (also, this is a dark-ish fic. cw for violence and harsh language)

By now, Simon knew the path and followed it without a second thought, bursting through the door of Wilhelm’s office.

The office always looked the same. Perfectly organized, floors squeaky clean, Wilhelm in a pressed button-up sitting rigged backed at his desk. Except, this time it was different. The desk was chaos, loose bills and papers and trash scattered across it and falling onto the floor. Wilhelm paced the room, tie loose and hair mussed.

His sharp eyes found Simon immediately, and if Simon didn’t know any better he’d be terrified of the way they hardened and narrowed.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Wilhelm spit angrily, striding across the room and pulling the door shut behind Simon, then flying over to the windows to pull the thick, expensive curtains closed. “I told you I was busy today.”

Simon scoffed and dropped the overflowing folder which had brought him over here onto the ground, clippings of news headlines and police reports scattering. “I don’t give a fuck if you’re busy. What is this?” He asked, still fuming and really not in the mood to deal with Wilhelm’s erratic behavior and empty promises. 

It was as if he hadn’t spoken at all, though, because Wilhelm didn’t respond, just continued to flit around the room, peeking behind the curtains. Only for a moment did his eyes flicker to the papers Simon had dropped, before looking up to Simon, then away again. Being ignored after everything, after coming all the way over here, only made Simon angrier.

“Wilhelm,” he growled, circling the office and trying to get in the other man’s path, trying to get him to look at him. When that didn’t work, he changed tactics, lowering his voice and softening it, to whisper, “Wille.”

That worked, because of course it did, and Wilhelm stopped in his tracks, finally turning to face Simon.

“What is going on?” Simon asked, softly, as if speaking to a dangerous animal. In a way, he was. “You said—”

“I said,” Wihelm interrupted, taking a step towards Simon, eyes ablaze, “don’t come here today.”

Simon held his ground. He crossed his arms over his chest, ignoring the way he felt out of place in his hoodie and jeans, as he always did when he stepped into Wilhelm’s life. There was nowhere for him to go, anyway. Going against every bit of training he’d ever received, he’d accidentally put Wilhelm between himself and the only exit. If he stepped back now, he’d only run into the big, wooden desk, trapping himself further.

Simon drew his features up into a scowl, because any fear was being smothered out by anger, and said, “Apologies if your word doesn’t really mean a lot to me right now.”

This, he could do. This was normal for them. What wasn’t normal was the way Wilhelm’s features softened as he took another step forward. His hand twitched at his side, and for a moment Simon thought Wille might reach out for him.

He didn’t. Wille’s eyes flickered over to the window again, then he whispered, in a voice almost unrecognizable, “You can’t be here right now. Why couldn’t you just listen to me for once?”

With a pang, Simon realized what was so odd about Wille’s voice. Fear. There was fear, actual fear, laced amongst the words. Simon had never seen Wilhelm show an ounce of fear before.

It disarmed Simon, dampening the flame in his chest, filling it instead with an icy dread.

“I just—”                                                                                                       

Simon was cut off, surprised, as Wille put both his hands up, eyes wide, and took another step toward him.

It all happened so quickly. The first to register was the sound of heavy footsteps coming down the long hallway and muffled voices. Then, Wille was surging towards him, yanking at the buttons of his own shirt, then pulling Simon’s hood over his head and pushing him back into the desk. Simon started to protest but was cut off again by Wille pressing their mouths together in a searing kiss.

Caught by surprise, Simon froze for a moment, and Wille pulled back slightly to mumble an apology, then his hands were snaking around Simon’s waist, hands hot even through the fabric of Simon’s hoodie, and he found himself wondering what those hands would feel like on his bare skin. This time, Simon was more prepared. This time, though he still didn’t really know what was going on, he kissed Wille back.

All of this had elapsed in about five seconds so there was not much time to ponder, but Simon had been secretly dreaming about this for weeks now. Wille’s lips on his, his taste, his hair between Simon’s fingers. It was better than any dream, but quickly over, as the door slammed open behind Wille.

Simon tried to jump back, to separate them, but Wille held him close.

“Wilhelm.”

Though he couldn’t see anything but Wille’s face still just an inch from his, Simon recognized that voice. It sent a chill running down his spine. If there had been any concern that making out with his primary person of interest might mean losing his job at the precinct, it was gone now. Now, it was sheer terror at the prospect of losing his life.

“Gentleman,” Wilhelm chuckled easily, eyes still locked on Simon’s, using his broad back to shelter Simon from the line of sight of their new guests. “You’ve caught me in the middle of something.”

The voice was Wilhelm again, so easily slipping back into his cold, unforgiving exterior. His eyes, however, were still Wille. Pleading for Simon to stay quiet, promising he’d handle the situation.

That cold voice came again. “That’s funny. We said six o’clock, did we not?”

“We did, boss,” came another, this voice unrecognizable to Simon, but its owner was undoubtedly just as deadly.

Wilhelm’s shoulder’s tensed every so slightly, imperceptible to anyone else but Simon, who felt the muscles tighten under his fingertips.

“That’s right, we did. I apologize for the delay.” Wille swiped his thumb back and forth over Simon’s back, which would almost be comforting if not for their current situation. “Lost track of time. If you’ll just give me a moment to get myself sorted, I’ll met you in the foyer.”

A loud, smoker’s chortle echoed through the room, and Simon had to fight not to flinch.

“Wilhelm, you dirty dog. If she’s a good time, send her to me afterwards, yeah? I don’t usually go for the street type, but after a good scrub down, I bet it’d be just like one of those high end whores. But cheaper.”

Simon wanted to squeeze his eyes shut, but his only lifeline at the moment was staring into Wille’s, so he didn’t. He swallowed down the bile in his throat and prayed for this moment to be over, chided himself for being so terrified when this was his job, dealing with people like this was his career and yet he was nearly trembling in Wille’s arms. Perhaps it was because he’d seen those police reports, seen the photos of what this man did to those who did not please him. If Simon wasn’t only fearing for his own life, he was fearing for Wille’s, too.

The voice hardened again, losing all it’s disgusting amusement from before, “I’m leaving in two minutes. I won’t wait any longer.”

“Yes, sir,” Wilhelm said, voice steady.

There was a final, “You can fuck her after,” snickered by one of the goons before the door slammed shut again.

Wilhelm glanced over his shoulder to ensure they were gone, then shut his eyes and let out a deep breath, dropping his chin to his chest. Simon’s fingers were still knotted in Wilhelm’s shirt, and it took a moment before he could make his brain send the signal to make his hands let go. The moment he did, Wilhelm regained his composure, like flipping a switch, and quickly took two steps back.

Simon opened his mouth to say something but immediately shut it when he say the hardness in Wilhelm’s gaze. Spots of warmth still burned on Simon’s skin where Wille’s hands had been, but he couldn’t put it together with the man who stared at him now.

“Stay here,” Wilhelm commanded. He rebuttoned his shirt and straightened his hair, then he slipped out the door, leaving Simon sitting on his desk, cheeks flushed, staring at the horrible headlines scattered across the marble floor and wondering how this whole situation had gotten so out of hand.

[dailykafka]

German native here! I just want to add on the other anon ´s comment over Kafka ´s German, in case if anyone is curious on what it „ Feels like to read Kafka ”

In his original Tagebüch (the diaries, unedited) it would literally feel as close to being this:

” okay today i woke up and i saw something out the window i don’t even know what it was, but whatever i do not want to think about it anymore, by the way i had this weird dream about being in new york or something like that, i dont know too much about it but also i could not sleep the entire night im so tired i don’t think i will even finish writing this  ”

It is literally just him being a teenager😭 he uses really simple, day to day language (with the exception of some outdated slang)

Ohh this is very interesting! Thank you for this!

[gingerlee-holds]

if it's ok with you I would love a part 3 of the letting of steam fics. i love the first two so far

oh of course!!!! thank you so much for the request heehee! i think there's gonna be one more chapter after this one before the story ends heehee, so if its requested ill begin working on that- i wanted alastor to be sweet with husker cuz husk's very clearly terrified of him so he's gentle with husk- anyways enjoy!! and thanku again for requesting <33333333

(also dont get mad but im not showing Angel's accent phonetically, that's just not my style so use your imagination)

Last Man Standing

Read the first one here! Read the previous one here!

Words: 1953 Pairing: Ler!Alastor, Lees!Niffty, Angel, and Husker Warnings: Alcohol and a panic attack, Angel being Angel, and also its unedited

Husker slightly trembled as he looked around. The radio demon could appear from any shadow, and Husk was never ready. The gambler hated that Alastor got to him so much, but he couldn’t help being afraid. That demon had his soul, and his grip on it was ceaseless. 

Mercifully, Husker wasn’t alone as he slunk through the hotel halls. He tightly held Angel Dust’s hand, who seemed completely unfazed by the situation. Behind them, trying to keep up, Niffty clapped her hands excitedly. Husker was at least glad she was enjoying herself. 

“Stay close, Niffty,” Husk looked behind him, motioning for the maid to hold his other hand. “You know how extra our boss can be.” He felt a little better holding their hands, but he knew that once Alastor tasted figurative blood in the water, it wouldn’t matter.

The shadow of the radio demon followed them down the dark hallway. Alastor may have been part-deer, but all that was going through his mind now was the instincts of a hunter. And if he wanted to be efficient about this - which he always did - he’d pick them off, one by one, starting with the weakest. 

Angel looked over. “Huskie, your hand is trembling. You afraid of the dark?” He said it with a light tone, but as soon as he saw the hotel bartender look back at him with eyes filled with terror, he softened. “Don’t worry, sugar. I’ll protect ya,” he said, affectionately rubbing Husker’s knuckle with his thumb. 

“And I’ll protect you, too!” Niffty giggled as she said it, squeezing Husker’s other hand.

Despite the fear, Husk grinned a little. “Thanks, you two,” he mumbled. He wrapped his tail around his waist like a hug, trying to level his breathing.

“Besides,” Angel continued, gesturing as he spoke, “I’m pretty sure Alastor’s just having fun with this. Nobody’s getting hurt. Just a little scared.”

“Cuz he’s a bad boy!” Niffty offered.

Angel snickered under his breath. “Yeah, sure. Besides, you’ve seen how agitated he looked this morning. He’s barely shown his face since the battle. Maybe he needs this.”

Niffty giggled again. “And when he finds us, he will tear our souls apart!”

Husker’s breath caught in his throat as he was reminded of Alastor’s threat. “What?!” 

“No, hun,” Angel chuckled and rubbed Husker’s shoulder. “She’s just fucking with you, Huskie. Our souls are fine.” He sighed a bit when he felt Husk tense up, silently wishing he could get some alone time with him to talk. Luckily, he wouldn’t have to wait for long. Angel spoke up again as they continued walking. “Niffty, no more jokes, got it?” 

Silence.

“Niffty?” Angel looked over, and Husker stopped in his tracks. Slowly, he held up his other hand for Angel to see: it was empty. “Niffty!” Both sinners looked around the hallway but found no trace of the neurotic little maid.

Husker’s breathing rate increased. “Oh, shit,” he whimpered. 

In an empty room, Alastor dropped Niffty on the bed, who was clapping enthusiastically. “You got me!”

The radio demon grinned and ruffled her hair. “That I did, little darling. I have two more targets, so I can’t tarry long, but I’ll leave you with this.” With a motion, Alastor summoned two tendrils, using one to hold up one of Niffty’s hands and the other to wiggle against her stomach. He fondly knew that it didn���t take much to unravel the little sinner, and as he predicted, she instantly began cackling like a lunatic. She was easy prey. “Now, don’t go anywhere!” Alastor giggled.

“YEhEHEheheHS SihIhIHihIR!” Niffty said through her laughter, giving him a salute. 

Husker was panicking. She was gone, and he was next. He heard Angel beside him, but his voice sounded distant.

“Maybe she just found a bug on the ground, hun! You know she loves cleaning pests.” Angel’s reasoning wasn’t heard as Husker began stumbling forward.

The radio demon momentarily opened the door just as Niffty uttered a loud shriek that echoed down the hall.

Angel stood straight upright, but before he could say anything, Husker took off like a shot, running as if his life depended on it. “No, Huskie, wait!” Angel ran after him, trying to keep up with the gambler. By the time Husker looked back again, the porn star was out of sight. Alastor got him, too. The bartender whimpered and took off running again.

“Alright, asshole!” Angel Dust yelped as he was unceremoniously pinned to a wall by Alastor’s magic. “First of all, how you’re holding me is all wrong. See, these hands over here are barely being held down at all. And you shouldn’t keep the arms completely stretched and extended like this; it’s always better to allow some give; that way, the muscles don’t get sore. Have you ever done this before?”

Alastor’s eye twitched in annoyance, but he took what Angel said into account and moved him a little. “An expert?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty much a pro regarding restraints. But secondly, and also most importantly, you’re scaring Husker. He’s having a panic attack, thanks to you.”

“I’ll attend to him shortly, don’t worry. As for you, my effeminate fellow, it’s time for your punishment after being found!”

“Do… do you hear yourself right now?” Angel raised an eyebrow. “That is some seriously kinky shit. I’ve heard that exact line a dozen times. It’s one of the classic amateur porn-writing lines. Like, you know what I’m gonna say to that, right?”

“Hm! Then don’t say anything,” the radio demon smiled wide. “Just laugh.”

“With the way you’re holding me down, I might just do thahAhahahahhat! WhaaHAt?!” Angel looked down and saw sets of claws extending from the wall, wriggling into his underarms.

“Four arms means four armpits! Now, excuse me,” Alastor turned and walked to the door. Angel Dust’s laugh was just as loud as his personality, and he wasn’t used to the gentle, teasy touch he was receiving. With a chuckle, Alastor left him to his tickling. 

Husker ran until he saw the bar, and with all the grace of a terrified cat, he leaped over the bar, knocking a bottle over, and curled up on the floor in a ball. He trembled and gripped his neck, practically feeling his chain tightening as the radio demon held his soul in a vice-like sadistic grip. 

Suddenly, Husker was jarred out of his thoughts by a single light turning on overhead. He held his breath and looked up to see enough light to fully illuminate the small bar. Then, there was a soft knocking on the countertop.

“I’d like a drink, please.” 

Husker peeked over the counter to see Alastor sitting on one of the barstools, legs crossed and hands neatly folded on his lap. His eyes were closed, and he smiled without teeth. He looked… completely unthreatening. “W-what?” the bartender asked, his voice still shaking. 

“A drink, friend.” Alastor’s voice was soft, almost soothing. Was he trying to comfort him?

“I- why?”

Alastor opened one eye. “Because I’m parched. Being a hunter is hard work, you know.”

“No, as a matter of fact, I don’t know.” Husker glared at his boss. “What did you do to the others?” 

“They’re all having fun, don’t worry.” Alastor tapped the counter again. “Now, gin and tonic, please.”

“That’s… not your usual order.” Husker looked at the radio demon suspiciously. Husker’s favorite drink was a gin and tonic, so why was Alastor ordering it? Regardless, Husker began making the drink and served it to his guest in a large glass. 

“Thank you.” Alastor politely nodded before pouring half of the drink into another glass and passing it back to the bartender. “Here, have some.”

Husker looked down at the glass and then back up at Alastor. He didn’t seem to be manipulating him. It looked like Alastor was genuinely just trying to calm him down. Hesitantly, the gambler picked up the glass.

“You’ve won.” Alastor held up the glass. “A toast! You were the last one I found.”

Husk held up his glass and took a big sip. The alcohol warmed the back of his throat, and he felt all his muscles loosen up a bit. Sighing, Husk leaned against the countertop and looked up at Alastor. He was warmly smiling as he drank from his glass.

“You should have seen the look on Angel’s face, Husker. It was absolutely to die for!” The radio demon laughed as he set the glass down, and thanks to the gin, Husker found himself chuckling along with him. 

“I bet he made a sex joke, didn’t he?” 

Alastor nodded, and the two laughed together. 

After a few minutes, both were filled with warmth and laughing at nothing in particular. The radio demon wiped a tear from his eye and sighed happily. “Now, you get a reward for lasting the longest.”

Husker tilted his head, smiling lopsidedly in confusion, before he felt Alastor’s tendrils from behind him, gently massaging his shoulders. The shock of the touch quickly melted, and the gambler slowly laid his head on the counter. Smiling wide, he yawned like a cat, and his ears twitched. 

Alastor smiled and used one hand to rub his ear, and to his surprise, he heard a low purring sound coming from his bartender. He knew Husker was starved for touch, but he had no idea it was to this extent. He couldn’t help letting a small “Awww…” out, smiling fondly at the grumble Husk made in reply. The feline sinner swatted at the radio demon, and Alastor gently grabbed the offending hand, tracing the heart on Husker’s paw with a single claw. 

“H-heeheehehee… C-cuhuhuhut ihihit ouhuhut…” Husker began giggling but didn’t pull away from the touch. As Alastor continued administering his reward tickles, Husker never once moved, only letting out sleepy giggles.

“You are far too precious to be so scared, Husker.”

“Sh-shuhuhuhut ihihihihit…”

“No, I don’t think so.” Alastor wiggled the claw a bit faster, and Husk’s giggling mixed with his purring made for an extraordinarily adorable sound. Without stopping the massaging, ear rubs, or palm tickles, Alastor gently led Husker out from the bar to the oversized couch in the lobby and sat him down. With a start, the radio demon realized he was still tickling the others, and he quickly stopped all his magic, releasing Lucifer, Vaggie, Charlie, Niffty, and Angel from their tickly punishment. 

The other hotel residents slowly stumbled into the lobby, wiping tears from their eyes and rubbing their still-tingling spots. All had blushes on their faces, and none wanted to talk to the others after being so thoroughly wrecked. Lucifer was practically gasping for air as he shuffled in, and without a word, he sat down on the far end of the couch and instantly fell asleep. Next to him sat Charlie, and next to her sat Vaggie, and the two girlfriends snuggled close to each other. Niffty hopped onto the armrest and conked out faster than you could say ‘stab,’ and Angel crept in beside Husker to wrap his four arms around the sleeping bartender.

Alastor sat in his recliner, took a deep breath, and smiled as the other residents slept. Finally, the Hazbin Hotel was quiet, and he could get some rest. He was shockingly tired, and as he lay his head back against the seat, he grinned at the fun he had had today. He hoped he could do it again soon because, as far as he could tell, nobody else disliked it either. Although maybe he’d have to go easy on the theatrics with Husker. 

The other residents were plotting revenge against the radio demon as he slept. But that would come after everyone was awake. For now, the hotel slept.

[variationsonacloud]

mcpriceley yuri jumpscare!!! ahhh!!!!

more doodles & whatnot below the cut ^_<

closeups of them since my camera doesnt do price justice whenever i take a photo of them together

ignore that price is bald in the left photo but i really like how i drew connie here

on the contrary i dont really like how i drew her in the second photo but i didnt have correction tape when i drew it so oh well

i love how price looks whenever she has her hair up i need to draw her like this more (this was inspired by frogsindenim's mcpriceley yuri design on insta you need to scroll a bit to find it but their art of them is super pretty!!)

also for the drawing on the left i think i was originally gonna draw price as a guy but i gave up so i decided to just make her a girl

price is super mean (stop sticking your tongue out!!! such a meanie!!! [i just remembered the 2011 tonys while typing this at least price sticking her tongue out is true to her character] ) while connie is a sonny angel

im pretty sure i drew this after my confession during my recollection last month so technically this is a super holy mcpriceladies doodle (ignore how price is basically disintegrating my camera doesnt like her)

heres most of these in their true unedited form sorry if this make this post longer but even though editing these makes the photos look nice i feel like it also gets rid of some of the details

amazing waowie!!! super fun fact for the drawings on the bottom row of this is that whenever i close my sketchbook on this page price & mckinley kiss wowza!!

i know this post is long enough but heres one last doodle of them (if you squint you can tell its mpriceley)

okay!!! thats it!!! im done!! finished!!! sorry for the super long post!!

thankyou so super much if you read &/or looked at all of this until the end of this post! ^_^ it might sound like exaggeration but theyre honestly all i draw 90% of the time

[hydrangea-mon-amor]

SWEET INJURIES.

Female! Yandere OC x reader

Trigger warning! Yandere behavior, obsessive behavior, non con physical touch, one sided somnophilia. This work also includes the notion of rape. If you are not comfortable with that please do not read further. (Tell me if i need to add more!) DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT

Side note — if you read the trigger warning and still were triggered by the content (or any that I’ve wrote) please message me ASAP and tell me about it. This goes for all of my works, but I do not mean harm writing these stories and the content of my blog are dark and heavy. I DO NOT condone this behavior and if any of you see yourself in a situation like this I urge you to seek help.

Summery! You have the perfect life, good grades, a group of friends and a good home life. In your school the popular girl, Valery Magnolia is the daughter of two famous doctors with a hospital in your city. Valery is trained in the arts of medicine and when you suffer from a serious fall you seem to catch the attention of miss popular.

A/N: I think this is the longest fic I’ve wrote so far, anyways enjoy I’ve had a blast writing Valery’s character. Just to put it out there this pictures are not mine and I’ve found all of them on Pinterest. This is unedited as fuck so don’t be surprised if you see many errors. As time goes by I’ll be able to lick them out and fix them, so for now, just enjoy. ❤️

— AGAIN IF ANY OF THE TRIGGER WARNING I LISTED TRIGGERS YOU THEN PLEASE DONT READ FURTHER.

You sit with your friends at a lunch table while you eye miss popular chortle it out with her friends. Valery Magnolia, the highly praised daughter of two famous doctors and the owners of Magnolia Medical Center. Tch. People say she’ll become just as knowledgeable about medicine like her parents, maybe even start her own clinic. But for now, you and her are in high school in your junior year. And besides, it’s public knowledge that she’s dating the quarter back Jaydee B Hallaghar, brother to the famous runway model Dante T Hallaghar. You scoff to yourself, why do you even care? Matter of factly, why are you so fixed on looking at her? You’re being foolish, and you know it.

“I heard she’s killed some people.” You whip your head around at your friend Tylers vicious statement. He stabs a fork in his undercooked meat and the only thing he ate so far were the tatter tots. He seems to notice your bewildered gaze. “Y‘’know, like when she operated on some patients she kinda fucked it up and killed ‘em. Since her parents are rich and famous and a real big deal in our city they were able to cover it up, mostly.”

“Your crazy, she may be a prissy bitch but I don’t think she is a killer.”

“I bet her victims thought that too.”

“Whatever.” You stand up with your tray in hand and you look back to Tyler. “Come on, let’s go to the rooftop.” Tyler again picks at his meat, you don’t know why you know he won’t eat it.

“Won’t we get in trouble? Again?”

“Tyler, we always get in trouble going up there, what’s the difference now.” Tyler pushes his chair back and cocks his head to his rear.

“Like, what if we get suspended or something?”

“Then we’ll just get a break from this hellhole they call ‘school���.”

Your feet dangles of the edge. Your school is only three stories high so everything is fairly close. Even now, the people that are on the ground don’t look as small as some would say. But maybe that’s just because your not high enough. Your friends lays on his back a cigar in his mouth. You don’t tell him that the smell bothers you.

“Do you ever have wet dreams about anyone?” You look at him disgusted.

“You are genuinely such a gross person. Why is every thought you have so lewd?”

“Why isn’t your thoughts lewd enough?” He sits up in a crisscrossed position, throwing his cigar off the roof top he then turns to face you. “So, do you?” You avert your gaze from him.

“Once, but it was about my ex and they were a shit show so I don’t like to think about it.”

“Fair,” Tyler picks at his pocket pulling out another cigar. “I’ve had a few, most of them are about a certain Magnolia girl.” You actually wish to puke.

“No seriously, what’s your obsession with her? Wet dreams? You even know her whole ass schedule and not to mention all the theories you have on her.” Tyler thinks for a moment.

“It was in elementary. We had a school project and you know how I was in school, a total freak! No one wanted to be my partner, no one but Valery. She decided to be my partner when she could’ve just chosen one of her hundred friends. She sometimes smiles at me in the hallways. You think she remembers?”

“So a girl was nice to you once and now you have these intense yucky feelings?” You say nonchalantly.

“Pretty much.”

A few minutes later you hear the school bell and you say your god yes to Tyler because he always leaves first and because you have different classes. But also because you like the view here. The tees sway nice and the grass looks more lively. But when you lift yourself up to finally get to your locker and head to class you feel yourself slip.

Instead of rearing back into the rooftop you sway forth and you find yourself tumbling down. When you hit the floor you hear cracks, not a crack but many all at once at the same time. Blood pools from all parts of your body but you can’t find it in you to scream. Because you can’t. Your throat hurts too much and with every breath you take the more excruciating it is. You hear heels click on the floor rushing to you. It’s your guidance counselor. She screams for you to stay awake and to not sleep but you can’t hear her well, you can’t really see well either. Everything is blurry.

The last thing you feels is your body being shaken and the odd sound of muffled yelling and the beeping of a number being dialed.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

You wake with a ache in your head, no it’s not there, it’s everywhere.

You try to sit up straight but the physical pain you feel is so raw you let out a gasp.

“Careful.” A stern voice states from your side. You turn your head to see that it’s none other than Jacob Magnolia, the father to Valery. “What were you thinking trying to commit suicide like that? Twenty of your bones have been fractured and two broken.”

“I didn’t—“

“Please, quiet. When your guidance counselor saw you on the ground do you know who she was with?” You shake your head. “Well, I guess that is to be expected. She was with my daughter. My little girl had to watch an almost dead body.”

“But sir that isn’t my fu—“ Dr. Jacob puts his finger to your mouth to silence you.

“Enough, I already have enough patients to deal with.” It was then that the door to your room creaked open and a girl tepidly stepped inside.

“Daddy? Are you in there? Um, are they alright?”

Well fuck.

Of course, it has to be Valery Magnolia barging into the room like this.

“They’ll be just fine darling. Do you mind watching over them for a bit? I have to check on some of my other patients.” Valery moves inside the room and sits by a chair close to your bed.

“Sure, I don’t mind.” Valery’s dad thanks her before stepping out of the room. It is now that she turns to look at you. “Are you alright?”

“Do I look alright? Twenty-two of my bones are fucking gone.” Your voice is dread-filled but funny enough it actually made Valery chuckle.

“They aren’t gone, they are just damaged. They’ll be fine in a couple of months. You can trust me on this.” She gives you a genuine smile.

“Lucky me.” Your voice is muffled but you didn’t really care.

“Do you want some water? I can get you it.”

“Trust me, the only way I’ll be able to have fluids circling my body is through feeding tubes. There is absolutely no way of my standing up, you can trust me on this, I’ve tried.” Again, you’ve managed to get Miss Popular to laugh.

“Well, I can tell you I’ll try my best to make you as comfortable as I am able. My name is Va—“

“Valery yes I know. And I guess this is where I tell that my name is Y/n.” She looks almost taken aback, almost.

“I didn’t know you already knew of me. Can I ask how? We’ve never met each other before.” For the first time meeting her, you wanted to slap her across the face.

“You literally saw my bleeding body on school grounds which should tell you that we are from the same school. Also, I have you in four different periods, and that's besides lunch. But I guess since you’re so popular and loved you don’t have time to notice the background of things. Am I right?” Valery’s lips creased into a thin line before she tried to force them into a lukewarm smile.

“I didn't know you felt so strongly about my reputation at school. But that doesn’t matter now, does it? You’re injured and I’ve already told you I’ll do anything to ensure your maximum comfort. And don’t be weary, I have quite an extensive knowledge of medicine and the human body. You’re in safe hands, I promise.”

“Are you sure about that?” Valery places a hand on your shoulder in an attempt to give comfort.

“Let’s not be so hasty to one another, besides it’s the first-way ticket to a sour relationship and I don’t feel in the mood to create an association like that. So please, for my sake and yours let’s be cordial with one another.” as she says this her hand is still in place.

“Will you agree to stop touching me if I agree to let you be my temporary ‘doctor.’” Valery nods her head enthusiastically.

“Fine. But only for a week and then I would like a certified doctor to care for me, for my peace of mind.”

“Of course.”

The first day Valery comes into your room, she comes with a feeding tube. You didn't expect her to take you so seriously but then again you weren't exaggerating so you don't mind.

“You said you needed these? Please be still while I attach this to you.”

“Won't I have to go under for that?” Valery simply gives a tight smile.

“No, not for this case. Anyways, won’t you be good and be still while I apply this to you?” You vehemently cringe internally. But you ultimately let her.

“Good.” She whispers. “I want to ask, how was your life like at school? I mean, since I am considered popular and student body president I had a lot of pressure and work to do. I wonder what it’s like for you, for someone so…average.” You seriously don’t think she’s talked to anyone that wasn’t obscenely rich.

“Well, uh, I guess it was normal? Um, I didn’t do anything. I mean I went to some after-school clubs but fewer than one-fourth of the school knew me. But I didn’t care about popularity I had my people and family and I was doing pretty good in class so I didn’t care. But my friends sure did care about you.”

“Really?” Valery’s ears perked. “What do they say, what do people say about me?”

“Well, most of them just gawk at the floor you walk on, I don’t think they're above licking your shoes for you.”

“Gross.” She states, you agree.

“Others…well others are indifferent. They don’t care about you nor do they want to. Did you hear about the rumor of you killing some of your patients from performing surgery on them?” Valery goes rigid.

“Really? Who said this about me?”

“Oh um, no one in particular, just something I heard while walking the hallway.” You lied.

“Well, what do you think of me?” You can almost feel her hold her breath as in waiting for your response to decide if she should continue or stop.

“Well, I guess a day ago I would say that you were just a snobbish prude.” You can see her visibly wince, “but after what happened yesterday I see you as a more humble person, I think. Um, I guess you're cool.” Valery breathes a sigh of relief.

“I’m glad.” She murmurs.

On the second day, Valery comes with a care package.

“Tada! All my friends have pitched in to make this for you.” You can’t move your body yet so you try as best as you can to see with your eyes. “Oh no no! Don’t push yourself Y/n, here just lay there and I’ll show you one by one what’s inside. When you are perfectly healthy you can take it for your own. Hm? Yeah?” You have no energy to decline so you just accept it. But instead of sitting in a chair, Valery decided to sit next to you on your bed.

“You’re pretty when you sleep.” She says absentmindedly but when she notices the concern in your eyes she elaborates. “Daddy had some tweezers here he needed and I opted to help, it was then that I saw you asleep. Not to sound creepy but you’re a nice sleeper.” She creeps into the care package and pulls out plushie after plushie and decorated them on your bed.

“There! Now, whenever you sleep a piece of me will always be there to take care of you, as a true doctor would.” You nod slowly, trying to follow whatever the hell she’s saying. But then you notice her looking glum.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure I guess.” She propositions herself so that she looks directly at you.

Her voice is unsure, “a-am I a whore?”

Well, you weren’t expecting that.

“It’s just, sometimes I hear from my friends that some of the kids at school think I’m a whore because I have a lot of guy friends. Hell, even my boyfriend is getting agitated by it.”

“Is he getting agitated at you or at what they're saying?” Her eyes widen as if no one has ever asked her that. “Because trust me, If your boyfriend decides to believe the rumors instead of you then he isn’t worth it. I mean, If you were my girlfriend I’d put you above all else. Don’t settle for what you know you don’t deserve.” She regards you for a moment. Like static electricity, never once blinking. If you weren’t too busy looking at the big blue teddy bear you may have gone a little spooked.

“And to answer your other question, I think we all are whores. It may not be for sex but it is for something. My friend is a whore for cigarettes and I am a whore for breaking the rules and seeing how far I can go without getting in too deep shit. I can’t exactly say what you are a whore for, but if it’s what your thinking then no. I don’t think you go after guys just for the sex they offer. Not anymore.” Valery grabs a fistful of the bed sheets and clenches them around her hands. She has to take deep and protracted breaths to prevent herself from crying tears of relief.

“Thank you Y/n, thank you so much.”

“It’s whatever.”

“No.” She reaches to take your arm in hers. “It means a lot to me, thank you.” She looks unsure of whether to say her next sentence or not, but when she looks at you and realizes how badly she wants this she can’t help herself.

“Can I hug you? Y/n, can I please hug you?”

“Valery do you still not realize I have twenty-two Broken bones, if you hug me no matter how light it was I think you would break a few more.”

“Two broken bones” she clarifies, “you have twenty fractured bones and two broken bones. Remember?”

“Yeah yeah same shit.” Valery can’t help but smile.

“Then can I stay here, for a few more minutes with you?” When she realizes she’s getting no response from you she looks at you worriedly only to have her tense muscles relax to see your sleeping face. She told you, you had a pretty face while sleeping. When she looks at you urges so raw bubbles in her stomach. But she holds herself back, no, now is not the time.

Valery is not stupid. She knows that the feelings she feels for you is far from normal, but she doesn’t care. She could care less when she has you to worry about. It’s officially been two weeks since you’ve been in the hospital and though it may be selfish to say but Valery has been enjoying every second of it. She appreciated the bond you’ve formed with her and she is delated in the process of taking care of you.

She almost wishes you were like this forever!

Now, Valery is standing at a porch, her hands knocking on a door. She’s knocked on this door many times before but today seems to be different. And she is giddy about it. The door creeks as orange heels step into the frame.

“Dante, I didn’t expect for you to have a shoot right now.”

“If you become as famous as me, you won’t have time to be free. Every hour there is a new shoot, and right here and now I’m wasting my time with you.” That’s Dante for you.

“I want to speak with Jaydee.” She gives Valery an odd look. “Is something wrong.” She shrugs.

“Is that all? Just Jaydee? What happened to: Scrumpie-pumpkin, Sugar-cakes, Snuggluffagus, Tubba Wubba or—“

“That is enough.” Again Valery is restraining everything in her to not lunge at Dante. “This is important.”

“Well you aren’t going to speak with him today, he’s helping this new kid tutoring.” Valery can feel her teeth clench. Yes that new kid, Jaydee’s friend Oscar made a bet with him to see how long he could get them to fall for him.

“Then do you mind telling him this?”

“Make it quick, I only have so much time to get to my shoot.”

“Im breaking up with him, I’ve found someone much better.” She can feel herself foaming at the mouth.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

She should feel ashamed.

Today is the day of your discharge. Your bones have finally healed but Valery doesn’t want this to end. She doesn’t want to stop doting on you. Which is why she asks you a proposition.

“Go on a date with me.” You almost choke on your coffee.

“Say what?”

“Go on a date with me.” When seeing your expression she immediately goes to try and justify it. “You know b-because we hung around each other these past few months. You don’t even have to see it as a date, just a um, parting gift?”

“Valery, I see you tomorrow at school. It’s not like I’m a vulture, I’m not going to disappear.”

“I-I know that! Just come to my house, oh uh, let’s go 7:30pm huh? We can watch a movie or something, your choice!” She gives you a beaming smile in a sly chance to waver your answer in her favor.

“Okay sure, fine.”

She feels a sigh of relief. Before you know it she’s tackling you in a hug, her face squished against your cheek. If you cared to notice, you would realize how closer her lips were to your mouth, and how tight her hold was on you.

“Oh, thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you! I promise you won’t regret this!”

You did

When Valery told you she lived in an apartment down Boulevard Street you expected her to be living in one unit. But then again this is Boulevard Street, home to all the filthy rich people. So imagine your surprise when you realize that Valery lives in all the units! Like, each unit has a different purpose! It wasn’t until one of the guards that guarded the main entrance told you that the apartment complex is the Magnolia’s family personal estate. All of it.

What was the point of a humungous garage then?

It seemed the guard already knew of your relation to Valery, considering how ready he was to help you. He leads you up the stairs, which again, you don’t understand why you couldn’t just use the darn elevator.

“Right this way.” He leads you to the first door on the eleventh floor.

“Thank you.” You smile and knock on the door.

It was already open.

You don’t seem to mind or be concerned considering the number of guards and protection in this place. If you lived here you wouldn’t even feel the need to lock the door! You step inside and are taken aback at how beautiful and spacious and how wondrous everything is.

“Lady Magnolia is in her bedroom, to the left.” You point your gaze that way and you can definitely tell that it is Valery’s room. The handle is pink, which you learned is her favorite color, and there is a picture on her door. Before you approached it you merely thought it was a portrait of her friends altogether but upon closer inspection you’re horrified to see that it’s you. The picture is of you in the hospital bed, sleeping. On the paper, there is an outlined word in all caps: MINE.

You open the door without a second thought. Stepping inside you see that her wall(s) is covered in pictures of you! Some of the photos are photoshopped, indulging in the idea of you…dating her.

You feel bile creeping up your throat.

You then walk to her desk, that too is covered in pictures and pictures of you. This time you actually vomit a little when you notice some pictures of Valery fondling breasts/crotch. There is no way this could be legal.

It is now that you notice definite CDs on her bedroom floor. You notice a DVD drive on her bed, and her laptop there too. You rush gathering the CDs in your hand and hopping into the bed. You were no expert but if Valery showed this much infatuation with you then you don’t think it would be above her to alter her life completely and the pursuit of you. Which is why you typed your name as the password.

……SIGHING IN.

You cannot believe that this is happening to you.

Quickly you plug the CDs into the DVD drive and the. Into the computer.

Perhaps you were just too stunned because you couldn’t stop watching, from file to file you watched everything that Valery would do while you were unaware of everything taking place. You genuinely thought she could’ve been a friend to you.

You hear footsteps

It’s already too late to hide what you have been doing

“Y/N…” you’ve never turned your head faster in your life.

“Valery—“

“I can e-explain!” You definitely want to see how that would play off.

“How are you going to justify fucking yourself on my hospital gown!” Valery is caught off guard, she didn’t expect you to see that. “You can’t explain it, can you? That’s why you’re so despondent.”

“No!” She hurriedly replied.

“Oh yeah? Then how do you explain the pictures? Huh! How do you explain every single one of your walls being covered in pictures of me! How do you explain that!”

“I had to!” She cries, cornering you into a wall. You can see tears prick her eyes. Her arms are on each side of you, barricading you. She stutters as she says, “You have no idea what it was like! I-I needed you with me—I still need you with me! Never, have I felt so genuinely cared for by another person before you! I n-never could have let you go even if I wanted to. P-please Y/N, try to understand my point of view. I-I love you.”

You slap her across the face.

“Bullshit!” You take a step closer to her, but she doesn’t budge, intent on keeping you enclosed like this. “I heard about the rumors of you and Jaydee breaking up,” you take anther look at the bedroom “but honestly I think your just using me to get over him—“

“That isn’t true! I was the one to break things off with him, and I did it because I wanted to be with you!” She withdrew her hands from the walls and went to cup your face. “I never felt so sure of something in my life before, but I knew, I just knew that you are the one for me. A-and in time I’m positive I’ll be the one for you! We can even operate on patients together—“

“Fuck no!” You push her off of you. “Why would I ever think of becoming lovers with you, especially now? You-you’ve done so many terrible things to me while I was asleep. You violated my body!”

“No I didn’t! I made love to you before we could do it consciously together! I couldn’t help myself, I needed you so badly and I wanted to make you feel good too so I guess I got a little carried away but I never violated you!”

“That is literally one of the ways you could violate someone! Using their body without their knowledge or consent! Have you gone crazy Valery?” It’s now that she breaks into harrowing smile.

“If it’s for you then yes.” You shake you head disgusted at her.

“I can’t believe you, I thought we were friends!”

“We are! We can continue to still be friends! And something’s more! I know you love me Y/N, you’re just too scared and timid to admit it. I know you are!”

“You are actually psycho!”

“No I’m not!” You shake your head, looking at the door you devise a plan. But Valery is already two steps ahead of you.

“Don’t you dare think about—“ you dash to the door as fast as you can but fall to your knees from a sharp pain. When looking back to Valery, you notice a rifle on her hands, how she got it you’ll never know.

You wake with a searing pain in your head. You realize you’re strapped onto a rather comfy cot with a body next to you huddling for warmth. It’s then do you realize it’s Valery. You try to scream but there is a gag in your mouth. You also realized that you’ve been completely changed of clothes.

Valery stirs from her supposed sleep.

“Your awake.” She murmurs, you glare. “You must still be mad at me…” she seems genuinely disheartened by it. “I know there isn’t much I could say to soothe you, but, Baby you know I would die without you right? So don't leave just yet.”

Well with you bound up like this you have no chance of ever going to!

“You must wonder where we are, it’s another unit in the Apartment complex that my parents use for extra patients. Actually there are several units for that but this one is specially for you.” She seems hesitant before pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead. She seems quite happy with herself.

“Ahh, I’ve waited ages to do that!” She snuggles closer to you. “Please understand this is all for you.” It seems to get harder and harder for you to believe that.

[usmsgutterson]

did u know ao3 has no jesper x male fics??? IT IS ABSOLUTELY CRIMINALLL 😭😭😭😭

can i pls req a jesper fluff 🤭🤭 i dont rlly have a preference for how u do it, just like playful flirting and confessions 🫶🏼

thank you :)

Light of The Moon- J.F x Male! Reader

Okay, judging by your comment about ao3, I went ahead and made this an x male! reader and it is pretty damn fluffy lol. I'm sorry that this took me like, two weeks, I just couldn't figure out how to start this for the life of me and only after I figured it out did I proceed.

I hope you like this one! I leaned more into the confession aspect then I did the flirting because I cannot write anything better than half decent flirting for the life of me, but I hope you like this if you read it kind nonnie.

Fic type- fluff

Warnings- mentions of lungs being given away (Jesper says he would've given his left lung up) mentions of blades, mentions of alcohol and alcohol consumption. I'm also tired and this is largely unedited but we die like matthias in this house

Spring was an odd, but a lovely, time of year. It was the in between as far as weather was concerned. Some days called for rainstorms, others were humid and breezeless, though more often than not, it was a perfect blend of the two extremes.

That day, the day that Jesper graced your door with a candle, some tea, and a few good books, it was rainy. You could hear the pitter-patter of rain against the window that stood two feet above your bed and was connected to the ceiling, and you'd let it be the soundtrack to your routine that day.

Waking up and eating two of the cinnamon buns you'd bought from a bakery in the Geldcanal, not far out from where Wylan had lived with his mother.

Brushing your teeth, showering, getting dressed, grabbing your umbrella and your bag and getting a ride on a cheap coach to the University District, where you took your classes and ignored the intense headache that kicked in halfway through your day. Going home, doing a few hours behind the bar at the Crow Club.

The rain still continued close to eleven bells, after you'd grabbed your cheque for two weeks of work from Kaz and when Jesper showed at your door, two teas in hand, a candle, lighter, and a few books in a satchel draped over a shoulder.

"Mind if I steal your company for a bit, love?"

You scoffed. "You needn't flirt with me, Jesper, not if company is your goal," you said. "I would legitimately drop everything just to hear you laugh, so the flirting isn't necessary."

It was Jespers turn to scoff. "Well then, as far as flirting is concerned, it seems you've become my competition."

"Loser goes against Nina," you suggested as Jesper passed you the tea he'd grabbed. Jespers face showed horror for a moment before he relaxed.

"She'd beat us in a minute," he said. "No chance either of us would win that fight. I think I watched her make eyes at a pair of boots she liked once."

You laughed, took a sip of the tea Jesper had brought along. "Thank you for the tea, by the way. Needed it more than I thought."

Jesper only shrugged in response, incredible grin coming to his face easily.

"It's no problem, love," he said, the grin turning into a smirk. He'd been using that nickname for you since you'd known him, claiming he liked the way it made you flustered.

You'd taken that for what it was, chosen to remain selectively oblivious every time he used it and your heart gave a funny flitter in response.

"I've missed you," Jesper spoke into the silence. "Kaz has had me swept up in jobs and—"

You accidentally cut Jesper off with a nod. He'd been swept up in jobs for Kaz, you'd been swept up trying to graduate from university in one piece as midterms approached and your workload grew more by the day. A literature degree, as it turned out, was not all that you hoped it would be. It wasn't anything short of difficult and it was nothing if not occasionally mildly inconvenient.

"I've missed you more," you said. "Academia, especially in lit, is not easy. I regret this degree sometimes. Miss the jobs, the thrill of it."

Jesper laughed. "Ah, so you miss the jobs more than me?"

You shook your head. Jesper was your best friend, the guy who you'd been in love with since you enrolled in at Ketterdam University and met him in your first week. The jobs may have been worth it because of the money, but ultimately, jobs be damned.

You'd gotten the degree so that you wouldn't be reliant upon crime-based income as it were after having lived as a member of the Dregs for nearly a year and a half when you'd enrolled. But, there was a part of you that knew you'd happily give the degree up if it meant you never had to go more than a week without seeing Jesper, without hearing his jokes and responding to his quips with wit quicker than a blade.

"Never," you said. "I've missed you like hell, though. Seriously. I've missed you much it's not even funny."

Jesper laughed as he lit the candle, and an easy conversation went on. Jesper discussed the job that he'd just been on, and in turn, you discussed the mundanities of university life.

"I came round to talk about something," Jesper said after a few moments had passed, taking a sip of his tea absentmindedly. You took a sip of yours, dread filling you from head to toe.

"Anything good?" You asked.

"Depends on if you feel the same way," Jesper said, a nervous laugh prickling at the end of his sentence. "I uh—silences have never really been my forte, as you've been able to guess. I don't know when it happened, but we've known each other so long and it just kind of did, and I understand if you don't—"

A grin spread on your face before you could stop it. "Are you in love with me, Jesper Fahey?"

"Am I that easily read?" Jesper asked.

You grinned, shrugging. "I've loved you since I saw you at the Boeksplein on my first day at campus," you said. "I saw you and I just thought that—"

Jesper blinked. He'd recalled turning, meeting your gaze and silently recognizing you when he saw you maybe a week and a half later at the Slat, brandy in hand as you poured over something from your course load. He remembered striking a conversation about it, too.

"I watched you take notes on the book you were reading for a classic lit division my first night at the Slat," Jesper recalled. "I remember. I approached, started a conversation, and I fell in love almost right off the bat. It was the brandy that got me, I think. Brandy shows good taste."

You laughed a bit as Jesper came to sit to your right. "That night?" You asked. "I looked a mess that night, and you fell in love with me then?"

"You didn't look a mess," Jesper disagreed. You remembered that night in near perfect detail. You'd been wearing a Ketterdam University jumper that all first years got in the welcome kits they were given at the campus entrance, a maroon colored one with gray sweatpants. Your hair was a mess from running your hands through it so much, your fingertips stained with ink by the time that Jesper had approached.

"I absolutely did, Jes," you disagreed.

Jesper thought on it for a few moments. "All right," he said. "I concede. You looked a mess."

You nodded your agreement.

"But you were quite the mess that day," Jesper said. "The sight of you sent me into a gay panic that Inej made fun of me over, and I think right then I would've given my left lung just to kiss you."

You laughed, resting your forehead against his shoulder.

"I really would've," Jesper said. "Still would, I think."

"You don't have to give anything up to kiss me," you said. "The feeling is mutual, seriously."

Jesper grinned, and you pulled your forehead off his shoulder, standing and setting the to-go mug of tea you held onto your dresser. Jesper did the same, and then you both were leaning in.

"May I?" Jesper asked.

You grinned, nodding as your arms came to rest on either of his shoulders where his wrapped around your waist. "Jesper, I have waited for you to kiss me for four years. Please do."

And then his lips were on yours and you were so happy that it felt almost earth shattering, contentment flowing through you like it never had.

He pulled away, grinning. "I love you," he whispered, lips still ghosting yours. "I have loved you as long as I've known you."

"Ditto," you whispered, and he was laughing, and your lips were on his again and you were so content that it was almost dizzying.

You spent the remainder of the night in each others company, the both of you exchanging kisses and talking in the light of the moon. You felt like your life was perfect, and you wouldn't've had it any other way

[imperfectercell]

hi i rambled about cells biology on discord yesterday. heres some stuff i said unedited

-this man is so fucked up. hes a hidden eye picture of normalcy with the most fucked up tapestry underneath

-it is a Miracle that he is alive and stable. tbh i still love the positing i read in one fic tht at he Wasnt stable. those genetics and power mixing in him was basically a ticking time bomb for his body to start collapsing. if gohan didnt kill him, he was going to turn into mush and exo skeleton sooner or later. which i dont normally ascribe to but its Good

-cells feet. unfortunately have to talk about them. not actually shoes, but closely interconnected plates with two forward toes and a small back toe, able to bend and grip. they go pachik pachik

-cells skin. very cold and not soft. softer than his shell for sure but still harder than human skin. kind of uncomfortable, unless its the summer and ur hot. similar to the purple/blue material inbetween his segments tbh, which while it Is softer and a goko place to aim to harm, is also considerably hardy

-hes kind of a pain in the winter, bc hes Very cold and refuses to admit it

-there isnt a Ton of feeling he gets from his carapace, most of his nerve points are strongest in places like his face, neck, eyes, and hands, and the connective tissue of his wings. otherwise a lot of stuff he barely even notices. it sort of makes touching those spots Extra weird for him bc every other touch is usually dulled down or impacted by a natural shield of ambient ki. so a gentle touch is something hes weirded out by. he just doesnt even experience touch and texture like that often.

-if it werent for his rapid rate of regeneration. hoo boy. hed be in a Lot of trouble. his body alone could never keep up with the amount of upkeep and combining

[yeahiwasintheshit]

Jeanne Dielman, 23, quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles

so some magazine, sight and sound, named Jeanne Dielman, 23, quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles the GREATEST FILM OF ALL TIME, last year. i hadnt heard of it before and found out its actually on hbomax right now, and decided to watch it. well it isnt... the greatest film. i dont know sight and sound but clearly they are either trolling or theyre the pretentious film snobs types, and being an art school faggot, i kinda loved it too. its by no means the greatest film ever tho. its just not. people will absolutely hate this, and tbh maybe that makes me love it more. but its pure film snob wankery. LOOOOONNNNGGGGG boring static unedited shots of this woman, jeanne dielman, making meatloaf, folding her sons clothes, washing dishes, getting dressed, sitting, getting undressed, walking to the store, taking a bath, reading a letter, dusting, buttoning up her housedress, waiting for the elevator, making breaded veal cutlets, waiting on the elevator, fixing her bed, eating dinner with her son, drinking coffee, wondering if the milk went bad, peeling potaotes, shining her sons shoes, buying groceries, prostituting herself... all very common boring housewife things. and all these scenes were shot with the camera LOCKED DOWN. not one zoom or close up in the whole french movie. yes, its also in french with subtitles, but dont let the language barrier dissuade you from watching it because in the whole 3 hours and 20 minutes of the movie, there may be 18 minutes total of dialogue. its mostly a silent film. a 3 hour and 20 minute silent film, and if you think: silent film... it must has a nice score? no. nope. no score/soundtrack whatsoever. just lots of sound of jeanne dielman’s heels on the hardwood floors tho. lol and even with all that i watched every damn minute of its 3 hour and 20 minute run time, waiting to see what was going to happen next. i didnt pick up my phone once. i didnt even fall asleep. part of the reason was the lead actress, Delphine Seyrig, who really made the movie worth watching. she has the film presence thing... i dont know. captivating to watch. the movie starts with a hook that keeps you waiting to see what is going to happen next. this woman clearly has a very strict rigid life, where daily tasks are repeated exactly the same over and over and over again. her life is on a loop day in and out. and once you see the cracks in that regimented life, things... change... for her, and you start to wonder how someone who lives so precisely can handle change. i wont say anything to spoil, but this worked on me. i was with jeanne dielman the whole way through. loved it.

[sailoryooons]

Just a question. I feel like your works are largely unedited. Is there a reason? It just feels frustrating as a reader when authors dont bother to edit their work lol

Hi anon - so I mean I can't speak for all the writers on this platform but I can speak to my personal experience editing my own stuff. I can assure you that it isn't born of laziness or not caring about the quality of my work, it is quite literally rooted in my worst quality as a writer: insecurity.

Insecurity might not actually be the right word but it's the one I'm going to use. I have a very weird relationship with my writing, that the longer I spend on a work, the more I start to loathe it, especially if it's something particularly difficult to write.

Additionally, if you've read most of my stuff, you see how long a lot of my things are. When I finish a fic after usually hours and thousands of words, I am suddenly in the editing stage and there is nothing more that gives me absolute anxiety than the thought of editing. Also - most of my unedited is my early fics or the ones that are like 20k words. I'm pretty lucky that 9/10 my more recent fics are beta read by @here2bbtstrash and I know those have no errors because M is perfect, but beyond M, I don't have someone who beta reads for me. It's a huge ask for people who are often also writers to stop their own fics and read 20k words for you.

One thing I have learned about myself: the more editing I do, the more I start re-writing the work. I have delayed so many fics this way. Editing is the reason that Chapter IV of Carved took so long. I was writing and erasing thousands of words at a time over and over again because when I went back to edit, I had fallen completely out of love with what I had written.

When I say I don't edit - I do use Grammarly and Spell Check and I make all those changes, and I do skim while going through those checks. I don't think that my fics are largely unreadable - someone can tell me if they are - but it's sheerly based on the fact that, currently where I am at in my relationship with my own writing, not stopping to read-edit my own works is the lesser of two evils, which is me re-writing a fic over and over again.

I understand as a reader it can feel like a writer doesn't care when they don't edit closely, but I just... it's my own thing to work on and something to try and get better at. It's not because I don't want to or think I don't need to. It's because the editing process makes me not want to post.

*Note: anyone who has ever sprinted with me or written in a collab with me can attest that 98% of my fics are not written over several days or weeks. They are typically written in a span of over 2-3 days in which I write thousands of words in a few hours. This is part of why at the end of a fic I don't even want to look at it.

Also I write for free on Tumblr dot com so I am always going to pick the route that gives me less anxiety I'm sorry

[ao3feed--reylo]

the breeding clinic

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/6I3cTSi

by foesandlovers

After a deadly viral outbreak twenty years prior, eighty percent of the male population of Jakku has been decimated. In an effort to repopulate, the government introduces "breeding clinics"; safe establishments employing virile men from all over the galaxy as sperm donors.

Though it happened when Rey was still a little girl, she's now twenty-six and she's ready for a baby of her own.

In walk Dr. Ben Solo and Dr. Kylo Ren. They're intimidating and only work as a duo. But Rey wants the best odds on her side and the clinic's website promised her they were the best of the best.

...She has no idea what she really signed up for.

___

 WARNING: BULLSHIT MEDICINE, DO NOT TAKE ANY OF THIS SERIOUSLY OR AS AN ACCURATE DEPICTION OF REAL-LIFE MEDICAL PRACTICES — I'M MAKING SHIT UP AS I GO FOR THE SAKE OF GOOD SMUT.

IMPORTANT: Mentions of child loss/miscarriage, difficulty conceiving/infertility and child neglect. Take care of yourself, okay?

I'm still writing this so I have no idea where it'll take me but what I do know is that it'll be short and hella smutty. Buckle up.

This is unedited, so bare with me until I can revisit it.

Words: 3439, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/M

Characters: Rey (Star Wars), Kylo Ren, Ben Solo | Kylo Ren

Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren

Additional Tags: Breeding, mfm, Medical Kink, Mild Lactation Kink, Kylo Ren and Ben Solo Tag Team Rey, No they're not the same person here, I know it doesnt make sense but let's pretend it does, inappropriate use of the speculum, Lots of Cum, NIpple stimulation, wild medicine that makes no sense and is very inappropriate alright, gotta make sure it takes, Squirting, Loss of Virginity, men have kinda gone extinct and now we gotta repopulate Jakku, Doctor/Patient, Sperm Donors, Rose is briefly mentioned living her best life, gapping, tag teaming, Explicit Sexual Content, Explicit Language, Dirty Talk, Breeding Kink, Impregnation, impregnating the good ol fashion way, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Fisting, Double Vaginal Penetration, Anal Sex, Anal Play, Dildos, intrusive medical exam, Medical Examination, Reylo - Freeform, I'll add the tags as I go, also im pretty sure my math is not mathing right now so dont look at it too closely, Alternate Universe - Star Wars Setting

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/6I3cTSi

[arlecchno]

IM SO GLAD YOURE ALSO LOVING SUMMERS FIC IM LIKE ACTUALLY SO IN LOVE WITH IT (insert me going batshit insane) alsooo do look forward to more stupid banter in the middle of supposedly serious situations , they are the best and there are more . stan mcs little water creations tbh

bleh , honestly all my other writing works are old and i think pretty shitty at this point but i can link you to some if you really want (or i could write you a short story / drabble , i feel like thatd be less embarrassing on my part lmao , lmk if you want that) about my games though ... 1 2 3(WIP) the first two are well over a year old now , plus primarily unedited , so dont mind any possible grammar mistakes or generally terrible story flow (i swear ive gotten better since these 😰) and the third was also created last year (for a school project) , im slooowly chipping away at finishing the code haha ...

I ACTUALLY COMMENT ON MY OWN DOCS AS WELL !!! there arent much of them because .. well i havent wrote much outside of my private dms LOL

i also think it is insanely fun to comment on my own work

aand ive contacted my friends (aka my two and only true loves /p /hj) about the kinnie thing .. and one of them sent me this to fill out

youre not wrong actually haha , am i that easy to read ?

im an ambivert , i dont like seeking out social interaction irl unless its one of my close friends or im just that bored , but i do get really loud / energetic when i am comfortable (i think you can tell that by how much goddamn energy i put into these asks) but my "social battery" still drains relatively fast i cant handle people very well lmao honestly , my and cynos reasoning for making our terrible jokes align a bit , although most people (apart from my irl friends apparently ???) dont find me intimidating , my main motivation when i slip in puns is to get people to laugh at how terrible they are , because im well aware theyre pretty bad (or all my friends just have the same broken sense of humor i do) . but yeah , i guess now theres two people on my genshin kin list now why do i kin both of the artificial humans in the game -

lets play a game where we ask eachother random questions , so its easier to end things off lol , got a window in your room ? if so , rate the view it has !

- jellyfish

yes the summers fic is so good thank you very much for recommending me it 😖🫶

AND YOOO THOSE GAMES ARE CUTE HAHA i liked nel and akira!!! also impressive how you did 2/3 of them in scratch,, i've had very little experience with it from like a few years back when i took a computing class and damn was it hard as hell 😵‍💫😵‍💫 so kudos to you man

glad i'm not the only one who comments on my own fics on docs LMAO and like you said, it's insanely fun!!!

the way that you're technically all of the above in the bingo 😭😭😭 and that drawing is sooo pretty!£8483£!!£! is that you or an oc of yours? (either way i've been eyeing it ever since i started typing here, hehe)

sooo i basically predicted what you're like irl?

i think for the most part it's because i'm a bit similar to you in some sort of ways, i'm only ever close with my closest friends and can get tired by interacting with people sometimes 😞 but the downside is that everyone finds me scary HAHA 😭😭 my friends had told me a bunch of times on how intimidating i look, when i really just have a normal expression on my face... apparently they said i always look like i have murder on my mind 🚶‍♀️

you now have another addition to the kin list, congrats 🤗

GREAT GAME!!! i do have a window in my room but it doesn't really have a great view... i'm currently living in a shitty apartment for the time being and the only thing i see from the window of my room is my neighbour's unit from my apartment complex 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️ so i'd probably give it a 3/10 T-T

now, a question for you! what's the most silliest thing that you currently own? (it can be a purchased item, a gift you got, etc)

hope you're having a great day jellyfish ^^

[itsleese]

mess is mine | kuroo testurou x reader

warnings: 18+! mentions of sexy stuff & sugar daddy/baby dynamics, a cute lil kiss (this is angsty and SOFT DONT @ me)

wc: idk i wrote this in drafts lmao

also this is unedited pls ignore any mistakes for my ego’s sake

Kuroo thinks he’s clever, hiding his wealth.

He’s glad the thirty million he’s made over the last five years isn’t public knowledge. Sure, close friends and family know he's doing well, but not even they know the exact number. Doesn’t know how he’d feel if people found out, if they were pawing at him and demanding things of him the way they do his best friend.

But how? How did a suit jockey manage to set himself up for life before the age of thirty-five?

Stocks, baby.

But keeping his millionaire status a secret doesn’t mean he refuses to have fun, and this month, fun is you.

Fun is giving you his black credit card, watching as your government housing ass is turned into something unsustainable. Something covered in diamonds and pearls, lace and leather. It’s his schtick: buttering up needy, broke, pretty things, then dropping them after he’s had his fill.

At least, that’s how it has been.

You came completely out of left field, giving just as much as you take. Blowing him in his favourite chair while he reads the morning news, cooking him breakfast wearing nothing but the exxy lingerie set he bought you the day before, sending him very raunchy pictures while he’s at work.

What’s another month with the same girl? Who’s gonna tell him he’s breaking his own rules?

But a month turns into half a year, and he tells Kenma about you, gets an earful about how you’re playing him, and he should drop you. But it doesn’t feel right. He really likes you. You’re funny, sexy, smart. You're practically living with him already.

So he ends it.

Seeing you cry is something else, something he's not quite prepared for.

You get up, wipe your tears, look at him, “it’s,” you start, voice shaky. “It’s been fun, Tetsu,”

His heart lurches, but he keeps a straight face, stays in his chair. His armchair. The chair that used to be his reading chair; the chair that’s now going to be forever associated with you and your lips and your thighs, your sweet voice.

You don’t grab anything on your way out, just your bag— which is wrong because you have so much here— then you’re sliding on your shoes in the landing.

“I’ll send your things—“

“None of that’s mine, Tetsu,” you snap, a little angry, still crying. “That was ours— together.”

He tries to lighten the mood, “you think I’m gonna be wearing all those shoes?”

“No, but I’m sure your next hookup will,” you mumble, teary eyes fixed on your shoes.

“Hey,” he frowns as you fiddle with the strap of your heel, growing increasingly frustrated. He sighs, strides over to you and squats at your feet, deft fingers working on the intricate strap. “You weren’t a hookup—”

Bitter laughter and a sniffle ring out above him, “I know about all of your other sugar babies, Tetsu, I’m not an idiot.”

“You weren’t a hookup, I didn’t say they weren’t,” he sets your foot down and looks up at you. “I’ll send your things—“

“I don’t want them!” You’re probably close to hitting him with your handbag, your fingers unable to catch the tears before they fall. “They’re only going to remind me of you.”

That Tiffany necklace is next. The one he bought you himself. The one you've never taken off. You rip it from your throat, hold it out for him. He sighs as he stands, rubs the back of his neck to distract himself from the sick feeling in his stomach.

"Take it!" You demand, chewing your lip so it doesn't tremble. So he does.

You're gone, then, the slam of the door making Kuroo jump a little, amplifying the empty feeling in his chest. He sighs, head falling forward to rest against the door, silently doubting his decision.

*

He makes plans, finds new girls. But he also finds excuses not to meet them.

Instead, he accidently makes a new habit: gets himself comfortable and slides through his camera roll, through the pictures he has saved of you, cock in his hand, Rolex on his wrist, remembering you.

It changes him, not that he notices. It's Kenma who grows tired of his sighing, his moping, his snappy attitude.

"No,"

"You're going, we're all going; it's for 'old time's sake'," Kenma informs him, not looking up from his phone, "the villa's booked, no backing out now."

Kuroo sighs, again, "You booked it just then?"

"Mmhm," Kenma flicks him a small smile, and Kuroo's phone starts pinging. "And that'll be the group chat."

"Oh, for fuck's--"

*

The villa's right on the beach, and Kenma's invited all of their old buddies; the Nekoma team, Bokuto, Akaashi, Tsukishima, Hinata-- which is fine because the villa is a goddamn mansion. What he wasn't expecting, were the wives.

Wives.

"Kenma, what the fuck?" He hisses, pulling his best friend back by the strap of his duffel as the couples chatter and venture up the steps of the villa.

"Can't punish them because you can't find someone," Kenma shrugs, giving him a backwards glance. "I'm flying my girl in, too. Go find one from the beach or something if you're so lonely."

"Kenma, you know—" Kuroo starts, growing irritated.

Kenma snatches his bag, "go for a walk on the beach, Tetsurou.” He urges, walking away from him, leaving Kuroo frustrated and irritated.

"Oi—”

But as he walks, Kenma points to the pathway right of the villa, big sign reading "BEACH", and Kuroo knows he can't be bothered to deal with these couples— especially a newlywed Yamamoto— so, he kicks off his shoes and follows it, waving Bokuto off with a smile when he calls for him.

The beach itself is beautiful, and practically private, which Kenma knows. He knows the only people who use this stretch of beach are rich or famous or old, so why the hell would he say something as ominous as that?

He takes a few more strides out onto the beach, sees that there's a woman on a towel about twenty feet away, her back to him, eyes out at the ocean, rubbing sunscreen on her arms. Kuroo freezes, narrows his eyes at her.

At you.

He'd know the back of your head anywhere, the shape of your hair, the curve of your shoulders, of your back. What the hell are you doing here? What’s he gonna do—

A whistle rings out and he looks back, sees Kenma on the closest balcony, waving at him— no. Waving at you.

He watches as you wave back, smile lighting up your pretty face, his insides absolutely squirming in irritation and elation, confusion keeping his usually confident self rooted to that spot on the sand. Then you see him— your head tilting to the side, eyes narrowing— and you're getting off your towel, moving towards him.

Kuroo looks back to see if Kenma's still there— his heart thumping loudly— but he's gone, and you're approaching, looking like you're ready to chew him out.

"Why are you here?" You demand, stomping in the sand, looking far better than any of those pictures he's got saved.

He's surprised he can turn on the suave, "I'm here with some friends," he slaps on a grin, suppressing the need to get the hell outta dodge. "One of which you seem to already know, actually."

You blink then, glance up to where Kenma was standing, "how do you know Kodzuken?"

"Kodzuken?" His stomach lurches, brain working to connect the dots.

It’s you? You’re the girl he’s flown in to spend the week with him? You’re his girlfriend? He wants to be sick, wants the sand to swallow him up.

You?

"I won a week's holiday from him through his youtube channel,” you explain, hands on your hips, your eyes a little softer than before, shoulders less tense.

“Oh, thank god,” he whispers to himself, crouching in the sand, curled over, head in his hands, making himself as small as possible. He could cry, but for now he just needs to settle down, calm his pulse.

He hears you approach, then feels your hands on him, one on each shoulder. “Tetsu? What’s going on?” You ask, voice soft, hands giving him a squeeze.

“I’m so sorry,” he says, falling onto his ass, fighting back the tears pricking at his eyes. “I didn’t— I got scared, baby,” he whispers, cautioning a look at you through his fingers.

You’re on your knees, arms cradling your stomach, bottom lip snagged between your teeth, “I didn’t... I didn’t win anything did I?”

Kuroo shakes his head slowly, “Kenma... he does this kinda shit.”

You’re nodding then, looking at him with sad eyes. “Tetsu, I’m not mad at you,” you mumble. “I, uh, I guess I got ahead of myself? Technically I was just a sugar baby, too, and somewhere along the way I made myself believe—“

“No, baby, that’s— that’s because I wanted that too,” he sighs, running a hand through his hair, your calm bringing him back down, your presence soothing. “I’m self destructive.”

You both sit there in silence, until the villa comes alive with music, the bass catching the attention of both of you.

“I... I didn’t find anyone else,” he admits, unable to look at you, his face and ears hot. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since you left.”

“Tetsu, you have my number,” you say quietly, eyes on your fingers as you toy with your nails.

“You didn’t block me?”

Airy laughter, “as if I could block you,” you glance up at him, suppressing a smile.

“I love you,” he says, the words falling from his lips. You gasp, eyes wide, filling with tears. “That’s why I pushed you away; I was thinking about marriage, and how you’d look pregnant, what our kids would be like, and... I got scared. I’m sorry,”

You’re crying now, hands covering your eyes from his view, the sight filling him with the need to hold you.

“Come home, baby,” he whispers as he crawls over to you, wraps you in his arms and pulls you to his lap. “I miss you so much,” he presses kisses to your hair, and you wrap your arms around his neck, bury your face in his chest. “Look, I’ve been such a mess, my best friend played matchmaker.”

“Tetsu, I missed you,” you sniffle, pulling away from him, your hands cupping his jaw. “I was so up—“

“‘m sorry,” he breathes, presses his lips to yours.

Applause sounds from the balcony, and he groans in embarrassment, wrapping his arms around you more tightly, breaking the kiss. “They’re actually children,” he groans, sparing them a glance, but you’re laughing, wiping at your tears with your thumbs.

“They’re not so bad,” you snivel, giving them a little wave over Kuroo’s shoulder, causing them to break out in applause again. “I, um... I love you too, Tetsu,” you whisper, pressing your lips to his again.

He deepens it, smiling into it as his friends cheer him on, your own little giggle warming his heart, melting away all that angst and sadness.

Fun’s got a new meaning for him now; it’s this. This is fun. Love.

[thiccchurro]

Bakusquad boys with a shy s/o

pairings: Ejiro kirishima x reader, denki kaminari x reader, sero hanta x reader, bakugo katsuki x reader

Ejiro Kirishima

-he loves your timidness becuz it gives him a chance to be more manly.

-letting you hide behind him? Yes.

-protecting you from people, social anxiety and, spiders? Yes.

-ordering for you at restaurants cuz that waiter looks intimidating??! 100%

-Introducing you to people your too shy to talk to and sliding “this is MY S/o.” in there? Please!

-loves to show you off because he knows your to shy to show yourself off.

-and making sure to remind you your gorgeous and deserve attention every single day is definitely a thing.

-if your easily flustered he’ll pepper you with kisses and compliments every time he sees you just to witness that adorable blush.

-”Your bedhead is stunning. Teach me your ways!!!” *proceeds to blow messy red puff out of eyes*

-”Your voice is so pretty, you really should speak up more”

-”omg Y/n your so gorgeous today I can’t even-” he says before dramatically pretending to faint.

-Secluded romantic picnics are a must.

-nothing outside of your comfort zone just because he’s that manly.

-lots and lots of hugs.

-All around the softest rock ever, pls love him back!

Katsuki Bakugo

-Say bye bye to  Tsundere Katsuki around shy Y/n

-Is cockiest when he’s in control

-Is the louder one/lead in the relationship

-therefore he’s a cocky brat whenever he’s around you.

-He’s gotta be strong y’know? Can’t let your shy adorableness get to him!

-If it does (through some miracle) he’ll tease you till’ you cant see through your blush, let alone see his

-whether your easily flustered or not, this boy has his ways of getting you all hot and bothered

-will totally hype you up about the smallest things

-that plus his built in megaphone equals your 24/7 personal motivation coach.

-having trouble speaking up? Will screech at all the extras until you have the stage.. but in a cool tough guy sorta way.

you don’t wanna ask for an extra fork at taco bell? DONT EVEN MOVE, they can hear him from the table.

-If his explosive squawking is bugging you, just tug on his shirt and let him know. He’ll try his absolute best to dial it down!

-That one time he complimented you while yelling at a chihuahua 

“OIIIIII GET OUT OF-”

 *lil dog barks* 

“GET OUT OF THE-”

 *obsessive yipping* 

“ARE YOU DONE YET?!?!?!?!” 

...

GET OUT OF THE ROAD!!!!!!!! MY DROP DEAD GORGEOUS S/O HAS A HAIR APPOINT-

*barks*

“GET OUT OF THE ROAD!!!! I SWEAR TO-”

-you dont even hear the rest.. to busy dying over the fact he’s flaunting you at a chihuahua

Denki Kaminari

-Thanks his lucky stars you were to shy to say no when he asked you to be his S/o. He thinks your wayyyyy to good for him.

-But hey, you said yes and he’s not letting you live it down

-found this way to mix teasing, joking, and complimenting you into one phrase and tortures you with it in the most wholesome way.

-if you hid behind him he’d either go full on tough guy, or short circuit, and he’ll be teasing you about it for the next two years.

-pls play with him! Gamer boy loves showcasing you and your adorable voice to his online friends, but the mic can stay off if your to shy.

-fall asleep on him while he’s gaming i dare you. He’ll leave the round or whatever to snap a few pics.

-You died when you saw it as his home screen a few days later.

- UMM 100% simp

-compliments you about legit everything. He’s super creative (?) about it too!

-“Baby, your fingers are looking absolutely amazing today”

-”Your ears are ridiculously cute!! they look perfect with those earrings” 

-Loves your shy reactions, and would kill to keep your timid lil self safe from harm- emotionally and physically.

-If your the easily flustered type, not only will he tease the living daylights outa you, but also will lean in close when he whispers something teasing in your ear, or randomly hug you from behind before carrying you bridal style to your next destination.

-I’m not kidding. This child will literally turn you into a permanent tomato.

-Basically, pikachu loves a good shy bean.

Sero Hanta

-will give you room to get better at social interaction but is totally all for your shy personality.

-compliments you (normally) at least seven to fifteen times per day. 

-knowing how shy you are, he’s super touched when you initiate a kiss, or tug his sleeve to lock hands, your just so adorable how are you even his?!

-those days when your out of school and your inwardly cringing at some stuff you did earlier so he comes up from behind and drags you into cuddling.

-basically there for you 150%, but laid back about it.

-will help you speak up, or get everyone’s attention for you.

-training buddies since your more comfortable around him.

-If somebody’s messing with you let him know pls, they'll apologize within the next several minutes.

-Teases you occasionally 

-”Sweetheart, i know im hot, but your staring.” he winks, “We’re on problem seventeen, page two.”

-”Your adorable when you eat chicken nuggets like there’s no tomorrow”

-let’s be honest, tape dispenser luvs you and how timid you are, but he’s not sparing you from experiencing what it’s like to be tinker bell entirely.

-despite your more quiet nature he can read when you need your favorite take out don’t even say anything. 

-already knows what you want from where, dont worry about having to talk to a stranger about what you want off the menu,

-Is a fan of at home movie nights and home cooked meals, nothing out of your comfort zone.

-Basically is a king worthy of you.

[Unedited]

[baltears]

hello spookyshai!! its cool if u dont want to, but i was wonderin if you'd elaborate on what you like about william? i just like thinking about/mentally rewriting westworld and its characters in my free time, and your fascination with william's got me fascinated, mostly bc i see him as a stinky bastard. so obvs you'd definitely have a more nuanced take on him, which i'd also like to develop for the imaginary westworld rewrite fic that i'm never going to write ;)) regardless if u answer or not, just wanted to say i'm a fan of your blog and i hope you're havin a good day!!

omg so first of all thank you so so much for sending this, especially asking unprompted about a character you don't even like and giving me a chance to explain my feelings about him which is just incredibly cool of you. i love and am obsessed with william so giving me any excuse to talk about him at length is like gifting me $1000. if you want to know more about my meta thoughts about him after reading this, (I'm gonna talk A Lot – sorry – but i can't possibly get through everything because he's just a very complicated guy and it's a very dense show), you can always look in my william tag. I have a lot of text posts about him, but I also often talk a lot in the tags of my own posts as well as reblogs. This is gonna be a lot of totally disorganized and unedited infodumping of a lot of different meta, but i've talked about all of it at length elsewhere too and I can also totally elaborate more if you have any specific questions (you could send another ask if you wanted, but also feel free to just message me about it anytime). I'll do my best not to get too emotional (lol) but it'll be tough because this character is so close to my heart. but I'll try!

this is a huge wall of text lol so i'll also be adding more bold and italics than i normally would just to make it a little easier to read.

so first of all let's be clear, he completely is a stinky bastard. he is a horrible, awful, faithless, pathetic specimen of a man. not liking him is totally justified. just wanted to get that out of the way. personally I think not liking anything for any reason is totally valid and justified, but there are certainly good reasons why a lot of people don't like william. he is not a good dude, at least not after a certain point. No one is obligated to relate to him, empathize with him, feel bad for him, whatever... like, no one's obligated to like anything, but especially this guy. sometimes people can get a little shirty about the fact that i do, like me liking him means i think they have to. I don't think that. I do love finding other william stans, and i am very unapologetic and open about my love for him, but him being widely hated makes complete sense to me.

sigh like why i love him so much though… it's kind of hard to even put into words. on one level it's just extremely personal, like, there are a lot of things about him that i really resonate with and identify with, although I know that sounds weird (it's definitely gotten some very shocked reactions before, lol). i'm a villain liker in general, i tend to be able to relate to those types of characters easily and it kind of takes a lot for me to really dislike one on a personal level (though that's true of any sort of character, i just tend to like the majority of the characters in any work that i genuinely enjoy regardless of how shitty they are – to me the only truly bad thing a character can be is annoying, like, the kind of annoying where you just want them off your screen). Characters being any degree of evil or shitty or problematic doesn't bug me at all, personally, I tend to feel no deep internal urge to have them 'held accountable' for the things they do, unless they exist in a narrative that genuinely doesn't seem to understand that they are in the wrong, which does irritate me when it happens. But anyway, I don't want to get too oversharey but there's definitely a very high level of just personal resonance to the character for me in terms of the kinds of conflicts he has, the things he struggles with, the dominant emotions of his life, etc. so that's part of it. also though he's just… a very complex and beautifully constructed piece of character work, so I also love him just on a technical level as a writer.

He has such incredible significance in the story too, being the thematic representative of humanity, both to dolores and to the wider narrative – his capabilities for good and evil are humanity's capabilities for good and evil, right. Dolores' opinion of humanity and feelings towards humanity are very colored by her opinion of him and her feelings towards him, and thematically their relationship is sort of a microcosm of the broader relationship between hosts and humanity and very much a central piece of the narrative. Even when it's out of direct focus it's being constantly referenced and pointed back to, such as with the caleb storyline in season 3 – caleb himself is basically one big callback to william in s3, parallels out the wazoo, and his function of turning around dolores' opinion on humans is very much related to him reminding her of william – hence why her storyline in season 3 ends with her remarking on how her memories of william as a young man indicate to her that humanity is capable of goodness, because caleb's capacity to choose echoes william's capacity to choose, caleb's goodness echoes william's goodness, it all goes back to that, etc.

So… I guess I'll just jump in lol. William's Thing, the fulcrum of his character, the main feeling or sentiment that underlies all of his evil actions and kind of his general turn away from the kind and gentle person he used to be, is alienation, right. He lives his whole life (as he tells dolores in 1x07) not fitting in anywhere, not making connections anywhere, not having any sort of community or any experience with love or companionship of any kind… he's just been totally alone and alienated his entire life. like, the closest thing he had to a friend was logan, and he hates logan. I think this is the major thing people miss about him – there's this perception that his turning evil was out of some form of entitlement, that he was just angry that this woman he liked didn't like him back and it's just an issue of wounded masculinity, but to me that completely misses the mark. Like yes wounded masculinity is a piece of his character (the way he performs and weaponizes masculinity in general is… really fascinating, I'll go into a bit more detail about it, but the kind of showy machismo that he displays is definitely a tool that he intentionally developed for his own use rather than a really integral part of who he is) but it's not at all the core emotion happening there.

To William, Dolores was not only a person he was in love with or a person he was attracted to. She was also his first and only genuine human connection ever. She was his first true friend, she was his first love, she was the first suggestion anywhere in his life that it was even possible at all for him to experience a sort of deep mutual understanding and care, that somebody could actually genuinely see him and let him see them. He literally just had not ever experienced any level of real emotional intimacy before, which is a feeling i actually think a lot of people relate to if they grew up feeling very lonely. And then ultimately not only was that relationship taken away, but it was kind of retroactively deleted. When he saw her again back in sweetwater, his thought was not, "i don't have this relationship anymore," but "i never had this relationship," and further, "the single person i've ever thought i could have this kind of relationship with is actually not capable of having any kind of relationship with anyone, including me, and i literally just made all of this up in my head." After losing Dolores he is not just sad and lonely – he literally comes to the conclusion that he can never have any kind of intimate human connection or be genuinely loved, ever, because the one person in his entire life he thought he connected with is not even a person at all, but just a thing. It's very much a rug pull moment on a level that's hard to describe, it kind of takes some thought-experimenting to get to that emotional place because it's a level of shock and hurt and betrayal and like, paradigm-shifting that most of us don't regularly experience (which I think might be part of the reason why a lot of people don't seem to really understand his character or be able to parse what's going on with him emotionally). Suffice it to say it's a wound deep enough that he was pretty much never going to recover from it.

After that happens he is completely destabilized, he loses all sense of meaning and self, and he never gets a grip on it again. He had totally reconstructed his idea of his life to include the genuine possibility of meaning, and meaningful relationships, when he met Dolores. And with the loss of her, all of that suddenly went away and he basically was just left with nothing. So that alienation that he grew up with is now not just a part of his life, not just a thing that he suffers from, but he starts to feel that it's inherent to him and that it comes from him, which is partly why we start getting all the anti-social behavior he displays later in life. He develops and kind of fosters that lack of empathy in himself not because he's truly incapable of empathy (as we see when he's a young man and at a couple of later points here and there, he is in fact very capable of it) but because he feels fundamentally cut off from other people – he can't reach them and they can't reach him.

So that fundamental sense of alienation is really what informs 90% of the things he does after that point. He starts building this persona, inside and outside the park. The real world feels meaningless to him at this point because the only hint of meaning he's ever had in his life was in the park, so he buys the park, and simultaneously starts trying to "win" at life in the real world like he would in the park. The real world honestly doesn't feel any more real to him than the park does, he just knows rationally that it's different and so he behaves differently outside the park… he builds all this wealth and power for himself, he becomes a famous philanthropist. Inside the park he starts creating this character for himself, this sort of hyper-masculine, hyper-competent, totally emotionally composed, merciless, badass villain. And he makes a very concerted effort to stay in this persona as often as he can.

It's all a performance, though, right. As early as 1x05 we have Ford pointing out (to his face! legend) that his barely-hidden desperation to find meaning in the park is giving the game away. In that flashback near the end of 2x02 we get a glimpse of what's underneath, because he's performing this cold, heartless persona in front of Dolores literally while his voice is shaking because he's having to try hard not to start crying as he's talking to her. Deep down he is still very wounded, he still loves her, he still desperately wishes deep down (as jimmi simpson explained) for her to just tell him that all of it was real, for her to be real and truly be a person the way he thought she was. When he's an older man that wish is still in there, it's just been buried very deep, covered up with a lot of other things, twisted. But it's always there, it's his most closely held desire, the only thing he truly wants, and it comes out all the time in the things he does. All his tormenting of dolores, and especially his desire to make the park "real" in order to find meaning – that's that. That sense of deep confusion that's always there in his character too, the constant inner monologue of "who am I, what does this mean, does anything mean anything, what is real or not real, what is going on," that's that too, that's his destabilized sense of self and reality and meaning that came out of losing Dolores. And by this point he has also come to feel, as he says in 2x09 to his wife, that there is something very fundamentally wrong with him, in a way that's kind of at odds with how we as the audience have historically understood him.

The thing is, we saw him be a kind, loving, gentle, thoughtful person. He certainly was not perfect, for instance his later narcissism started out as a sort of basic self-centeredness, but he was a fundamentally good-hearted person who put most of his energy into trying to do the right thing. But he starts saying that he feels like that wasn't the real him, that he thinks deep down he was evil and poisonous all along, that his turn to darkness was inevitable, and that there's a sort of helplessness to his evil. There's this deep sense of shame that permeates his character along with his loneliness and alienation and resentment. He hates everything, he hates the world, but above all he hates himself – kind of amusing considering the god complex he's developed over time. But that really does seem to be the underlying emotion, that he truly thinks that deep down he was always bad. It's very heavily implied that his philanthropy outside the park and his attention to his family, his kind of good-guy persona, is something that he constructed to try and make up for his true nature, and all but stated that he doesn't feel like he's succeeded. To him, no amount of good he does will ever balance his level of evil, evil that as he says doesn't come from anything he's done but something deeper than that, something immutable, something he is. So that's why we eventually have him getting to the point of going "I might as well not bother with this anymore. I might as well just be evil, because I can't change what I am."

I've also said in other posts that the things Juliet says to him come off as obviously abusive. Like, she's technically correct that there's some sinister things going on with his private life, but listen to how she says it. You're a virus, not a person, a thing that mindlessly infects and destroys and has no other purpose. And he agrees with her! He doesn't question it at all, he just says, yes, you're exactly right, I'm not a human being with good and bad attributes, or potential to do both right and wrong. I'm a virus. Like, again, I know people get weird about having empathy for villain characters, there's the whole "cool motive, still murder," thing, because we don't want to be excusing anyone's bad actions with a sad backstory (personally I don't really care, but I understand where the concern comes from). But when he said that to Juliet it just… like I don't know how else to put it, it broke my heart. He really believes that about himself. And later he starts to question it because he's not sure anymore if he actually chose to do any of the things he did… but the way his hallucination of Emily puts it, these are his two options: you are evil, or you had no choice. One or the other. He never puts aside the idea that he is a monster that does not deserve to live, and his suicidality persists from season one (when he encourages Dolores to shoot him in the head and reacts with honest disappointment when she can't) to the end of season four when he actually does manage to engineer his own death. He is deeply, agonizingly, pathetically miserable existing the way that he is, he seems to see his even being allowed to live at all as some sort of cosmic injustice. But he doesn't know how to change back to the way he was.

All that having happened, though, we also keep getting these repeated suggestions in the story that he actually is still capable of goodness somewhere in there. The narrative keeps asking what William is exactly, what his fundamental nature is, and keeps refusing to land on one answer, instead choosing to keep things ambiguous in a way that would be sort of odd for your garden variety villain. In 2x04 we see him experiencing regret, feeling empathy and pain on behalf of others, and acting genuinely heroic, only to later backtrack and say it didn't mean anything. In 2x09 Emily tells him he is in his essence "a lie" but makes no attempt to locate what the "truth" of him would then be. In 3x06 he tries to figure out the answer to what's going on with him again only to decide he still doesn't really know, in 3x08 we get this reminder that he still stands for Dolores as a representation of both humanity's evil and its goodness, in 4x05 when his host duplicate asks him what he is, he says "Jury's still out." He is too far down his current path to turn back, but he still does not and cannot definitively and finally choose evil, because despite his self-loathing it seems like he senses deep down that his other side is still in there. All that to say I think he's getting a redemption arc in season 5, if we get a season 5 – season 5 is supposed to be the do-over season, and the character who most desperately needs and could most benefit from a do-over is William.

Um, closing thoughts… I think he's really funny. Sometimes intentionally, like, I do laugh at his little quippy comments, but I also just think it's really funny how pathetic he is and what a mess he is and how he basically imploded his entire life on accident. I do feel a lot of very genuine care and empathy for him (obviously), but he's also such a garbage fire of a human being that you sometimes just have to laugh. He's just my funny little guy, also he sucks, also I love him and he's my lil angel, also he's the worst man ever in history and deserves to be drawn and quartered (said with love). You get it. :) There's dimensions.

Trying to think of other characterization notes for your imaginary fic… oh, did you notice he puts on an accent in the park? He does this fake Southern drawl when he's playing his park character, but it's not his real accent and he drops it at other times, kind of like how Dolores sometimes does or doesn't use her "rancher's daughter" accent when she's being Wyatt in season 2. Uh… Total nerd, at heart, seeing as "all he had as a kid were books." (I kind of suspect that childhood memory might not have been totally real, by the way… made a post about that recently that's a little ways down in my tag if you're interested.)

There are more things I could say, but I think I've probably gone on long enough for the one ask lol so I'll cut it off here. Thank you again, so much, for sending this. I hope you enjoyed and got something out of this response, but if not I still do very much appreciate you asking and being curious. I hope you had a great day too!

[notnctu]

through the lens ❀ l.jn

❀ lee jeno x fem!reader ❀ genre - slow burn, smut/mature content, fluff (romance?), slight angst ❀ details - photographer!jeno, model!reader, college!au, shy!jeno but he aint shy in bed, strangers to fuckers!au ❀ word count - 8k (this is the longest thing ive ever written) ❀ warnings - nude modeling, swearing, oral (f/receiving), some sweet love makin’ ❀ brief synopsis - jeno asks you to model for his internship project, but little did you know, it was going to be a nude photo shoot.  

❝ jeno was too shy to hold eye contact, but he stared at you endlessly through the lens. ❞

❀ a/n - hihihi this is author doie❀ ! im bad at writing smut so pls dont hate me ah ha lol i tried my best i also dont model/do professional photography so really apologize if i butcher any terms lmaoo the only thing i am is that im in college and im shy

Jeno had applied to almost a hundred internships and almost close to none returned with an offer, even after a whole month of waiting. He absolutely needed to start building his portfolio before the beginning of his senior year of college. The embarrassment of possibly graduating without any experience loomed over the desperate boy. 

Photography had been more than a hobby to him, to the point where he wanted to take it seriously. His parents weren’t the most supportive of an Arts major, but that couldn’t stop him. Jeno saw the best through a camera lens. He had a special eye for beautiful moments and the impressing urge to capture it forever. 

It was too late to change his major, if he wanted to graduate with all of his friends. If he wanted to be successful, he had to act on it now. 

The swoosh! of a new email startled the sleeping boy. He stared at the brightly lit screen, reading the words over and over again to make sure it was real. Jeno was so enthralled with excitement that he scrambled out of bed to wake up his roommate, Jaemin.

He shook him so violently that the sheets fell from Jaemin’s warm body. “Dude! I got an internship!” He spoke with incredible glee, a wide smile couldn’t leave his face.

Jaemin groaned and had to hold Jeno by the shoulders to halt the boy from causing the room to spin. “Why--What is going on?” He dazely rubbed his tired eyes to blink at his giddy roommate.

The screen blinded Jaemin as it was shoved too closely to adjust. “Whoa--,” he pushed it away and shut his eyes, “--repeat what you just said one more time.” Jaemin held a finger up and Jeno grabbed it, jumping onto his best friend’s bed.

“I got an internship. Someone got back to me.” Jaemin returned the same excitement the moment he processed his words. He shot up in bed and hugged his friend tightly. 

“Wo-w, dude! Congratulations!” The two boys hurried on their feet to cheer together. There was no concern for the rest of their housemates, only celebration that roared throughout the entire night.

+

Truthfully, Jeno had no recollection of applying to this studio. It could have been a random link on a job scouting website, but he couldn’t be more grateful. An internship was long overdue and Jeno had been itching to get some recognition for his craft. 

“Hello, I’m Lee Jeno.” He bowed slightly at the receptionist, who had a stern stare that made him feel vulnerable. The first thing he noted about the office: white and minimalistic. 

Jeno’s specialty was landscape photography. His aesthetics consisted of black and white filters, city lights, dark mood lighting, and background commotion. He enjoyed capturing chaos the most, a scene where more than one thing was happening. The only reason being that there was more to look at. 

“Nice to meet you. The name is Lee Taemin, but you can call me what you please.” A young, lean man strolled his way towards Jeno with a wide grin and his hand for him to shake. Taemin was slightly shorter than him, but his stylish, expensive boots made up for his height. He had to be only a maximum of five years older than Jeno as Taemin appeared relatively youthful. 

Taemin’s firm grip pulled Jeno along inside the studio. A small gasp escaped from Jeno which earned robust laughter from the older man. “I hope you can break out of your shell soon. There is no room for timidness around here, Mister Lee.”

“Please, you can call me Jeno.” He smiled, quite awkwardly at the beautiful man. 

The tall glass windows, the concrete, gray floor, the white doors that lined the hallway, had to be all too predictable. Jeno envisioned this is what high class must look like. It was the pristine, bright feeling and the smell of vanilla that lingered distastefully. There was chatter behind the closed doors --- mainly directing, and high praises. 

The only off-put was that photographers worked behind closed doors. From the few studios he has visited previously, photographers often worked in open spaces due to lighting fractures or the ability to roam more freely. 

“I’m actually very ecstatic you signed up for the internship, since you do seem a bit on the younger side.” Taemin gestured toward the sofa in the middle of his massive office. Jeno sat across from him. Water was already placed on the glass coffee table that separated the two. A laptop was opened to face Taemin.

Jeno slyly rubbed the condensation from his palms on his jeans. Taemin’s stare bore deep into the shy boy, who had to break eye contact from time to time. “I know.” Jeno chuckled nervously, “thank you for getting back to me. I was really hoping to gain work experience through mentorship.” 

Taemin nodded at everything Jeno was saying. His face being completely expressionless. Jeno sipped his water to regain moisture in his dry throat. Taemin was more intimidating than he was anticipating. “Sounds great. Happy to have you here. It might be a small business, but the experience is worth investing in. Every photographer who has come in and out of my building has found their forte. Let’s say, it’s eye opening.” 

“That’s exactly what I was looking for actually.” As scared as he was of this mysterious man, he really enjoyed the comfort the environment radiated. 

Taemin leaned forward and squinted at the screen. “I noticed in the portfolio you sent that you don’t have any portraits or any people, in general, in your photos. Do you have any works with people? Since this is a studio of fine art nude photography.”

Nude. Jeno practically choked on the last remaining spit he gathered. Taemin acknowledged the boy’s shocked reaction and tilted his head curiously, “you did know that I specialize in contemporary fine art nude photography, right?” Unfortunately, Jeno did not. 

Jeno cleared his throat, “yes, of course. I wanted to challenge myself.” He had to lie, there was no other way to cover up his disbelief. This internship was the only hope left for him to gain something. Though, even the thought of shooting a naked body made him anxious.

He hated how timid he was. His friends and family say otherwise, mainly for the reason that Jeno automatically lit up behind a camera. In all honesty, he hid behind it. It was the only safe place that Jeno knew what he was doing. However when it came to real life situations without it, he lacked the confidence to be himself.

As ironic as it was, he hated being seen. He liked to be the background character in his own life, because the main character took too much of a toll. It could also be his deafening insecurities and lack of self esteem, but Jeno didn’t mind not being the center of attention.

“You like a challenge?” It was more of a statement rather than a question. Jeno caught a glimpse of the twinkle in Taemin’s dark eyes. “Then for your first task, I want you to show me that you can take on this role.”

Jeno scrambled for his phone to jot down notes. “Send me an emotional portfolio, model of your choice. They could be a friend of yours that you feel comfortable seeing naked. It must include a variation of headshots, full body, and body details. It must also be raw and unedited photos. I want to see if you have the eye for the art to capture these types of images.”

“When would you like it by?” He stammered, completely winded at the sudden project that unloaded on top of him. 

“Next Friday, and you’ll present it to me here in person. Feel free to use this studio if you don’t have a place of your own with equipment. All you need to do is book a room with the front desk. Any other questions?” The sound of the laptop shutting caused Jeno to look up at the brilliance in front of him. He needed Taemin to help him succeed. 

“Why do you take nude photography?” 

Taemin was unable to stop the laughter that erupted into the room. “I don’t run a pimp business or sell soft core porn, if that’s why you’re staring at me so funnily. What I make is an art masterpiece, it has nothing to do with physical features or desires. It’s the pure emotion that clothing distracts from. Clothing conforms the model into an aesthetic, and while that works for editorials, it won’t be a consistent thing here.” 

Jeno nodded understandingly. Overwhelmed and lost at words. He was unsure what he had gotten himself into. Where was he going to find a model on such short notice on such lewd conditions? He was really going to need to step out of his comfortable zone, in his photography and social skills. 

Taemin stood up and extended his hand once more. “I take pride in my art, so I hope you, too, start finding that in your own.” 

+

Jaemin held his stomach from the endless laughter, tears welling up in his eyes. “Nud-Nude photography? And you didn’t know?”

“Jaemin, keep it down.” Jeno whispered and cautiously peered around at the few people flooding into the small lecture hall. “I don’t want everyone in our club to misunderstand and think I’m some creep.”

His best friend straightened up in his seat and placed his hand on Jeno's slumped shoulder, “first of all, you’re a complete idiot for not researching. Secondly, it’s an art form. If you really got yourself a shady, rated R internship, I would’ve told you to drop it instantly.” 

His spirits were slightly lifted, but he was still struggling with who he should ask to model for him. As much as he’s already seen of Jaemin, being his roommate, he honestly would rather leave the rest to imagination. Jeno wasn’t purposefully searching the room for a candidate, but he could not stop his eyes from drifting.

He spotted the most attractive side profile that sat two rows below him. He shook his head to make sure he was seeing her correctly. Peering around, he looked for another possible face to shoot. But oh god, how she caught his eye every time she even slightly moved.

You smiled happily with your friends by your side as your club’s executive board members introduced this year’s goals and events to attend. It had to be the smallest amount of alcohol still running in your system that caused you to giggle every time guys tried to turn around and hit on you.

“Why don’t you focus on our club members instead?” You smirked at the smug older boy, who had poorly attempted to grab your attention. “I think this information is important to you. These events could help you develop your social skills to be much better.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, but your girl friends scoffed by your side.

He got up in disbelief and quickly walked out of the room. There was a brief pause at the sudden movement, but the announcement carried on per usual.

Jeno impatiently waited for the club meeting to finally be over, so he could talk to you. The longer it dragged, the more his confidence was subsiding. “I’m heading to study, wanna come with?” Jaemin poked at Jeno’s knee.

“Yeah, but you can go ahead first. I need to talk to someone.” His voice was shaky and his throat went so dry. Jeno’s shifty eyes scanned the room, hoping no one saw how nervous he was acting.

Jaemin’s eyebrows lifted suspiciously, “who? I didn’t even know you talked to anyone who came today. Donghyuck and Renjun aren’t here---”

“--her, Jaemin... her. I’m going to ask her to model for me.” Jeno motioned his head. His heart beating faster at seeing a small grin appear on your face from a comment someone made.

Jaemin hummed, “good luck with that, bud. I’ve got two shoulders for you to cry on after.” The extra hint of sarcasm only made Jeno sweat nervously. He was seriously doubting his decision, but it wouldn’t be a challenge if he didn’t do it. He knew he’d regret it more if he didn’t just ask you. 

Once the meeting was dismissed, you wanted to get out of the room before the heavy rush into the hallways. Unfortunately, a few frat guys pulled you into their conversation and chatted up a storm. Your friends played into their foolery, but you stopped paying attention when they asked for your numbers.

There was a faint tap on your shoulder and you turned to see who the culprit was. You didn’t seem to know him, because you would’ve remembered such a demeanor. His eyes were glued to the floor behind you and his shaky hands ran through his brown locks. His shyness was quite endearing, yet alarming since you weren’t sure why exactly he had approached you.

“Yes?” You asked curiously.

The moment Jeno heard your delicate cadence, he melted like a popsicle left out in the sun. He peered up, but quickly reverted his eyes to the white tiles when he noticed how beautifully you stared at him.

He counted his breathing to calm his rapid heart beat. He cleared his throat to introduce himself, “I’m Jeno. I’m a third year Arts major, um-- I was just--- I know we don’t know each other. I wanted to ask, uh-” Jeno was horrified at how he stammered over his own words. His cheeks burned with a red glow, and if he couldn’t look you in the eye before, he definitely couldn’t now.

“Hey, see you later.” One of the bulky frat guys called and you waved back weakly. 

A guy who had been chasing you endlessly scoffed at the pitiful sight and smirked at you, “see you at my house tonight? Been missing you in my bed lately.”

“Thought you would’ve guessed the reason why I stopped coming around.” Jeno heard the sting in your remarks and the disbelief in the male. 

You honestly could have left, Jeno knew that. But you stayed and waited patiently for him to finish. Jeno could tell how strong you were just by your intimidating aura that practically suffocated him by standing in close proximity to you.

You sighed and reached to grab your jacket on the folded seat, “look, Jeno. It’s nice to meet you and all, but I gotta get going.” 

Shockingly, the shy boy reached out to stop you by your fingertips. His touch lingered before he dropped your hand quickly. “I’m sorry. Are you free this Monday?”

“Uh, that depends. If you’re asking me on a date, then I’m busy.” Rolling your eyes, you weren’t sure why you still stayed to listen to what this random stranger had to say. If it were anyone else, you would’ve walked away the moment he asked if you were free. However, you acknowledged his timidness and the courage he must have mustered up to approach you.

Jeno shook his head violently, completely in shambles from that type of misunderstanding. “Not a date. I need someone to model for my portfolio photos that my internship assigned. It’s actually very important to me because it’s the first internship that responded back to me when I had applied to so many a whole month ago. Basically, I really need this and you because I think you’d be perfect to take pictures of. Oh-- wow! That sounded very bad --- uh --- what I meant is that your facial proportions are perfect and---”

“I’m free Monday.” You cut off his endless ramble and gestured toward his phone. He handed it to you without any hesitation and you typed in your number. “Text me the time, place and what I should wear.” 

“Oh actually, it’s a nude photoshoot.” Your eyes doubled in size, completely offended by that statement.

Jeno felt the sudden shift in the air and brought his hands up to block himself, “to be more clear, it’s a contemporary fine art nude photography studio. The pictures are pieces of art and to be seen as that only. I have no intentions or ulterior motive to sleep with you, see you naked or sell, leak your nudes for the profit of your body. But, I understand if you no longer want to do it because it sounds super strange now that I am explaining it.” 

Your shoulders relaxed and the fist that formed unraveled. You exhaled deeply, “I’ll do it. We can talk more about it on Monday and I get to leave on my own accord if I don’t feel comfortable. We work on my conditions.” Picking up Jeno’s chin, he was absolutely petrified at the forced eye contact and your incredible, powerful gaze. He was mesmerized by the fire in your eyes, and if he stared any longer, he could’ve lost himself in them. 

“Of course.” With that, you dropped his face and left without another look back. Jeno looked down at his phone and the new contact name, (Y/N). It had slipped his mind to even ask what your name was and he slapped his face in utter stupidity. “Do better, Lee Jeno.” It was a remainder to himself to, hopefully, be better the next time you two speak.

+

Monday, 3:03 PM. 

Jeno paced back and forth in the brightly, lit white room. He was trying to find any blinds or curtains to cover the tall windows of the high rise building. It should not be too much of a problem, the extra lighting was a positive. Jeno was only worried for your comfort of the openness. 

There was a soft knock before Jeno practically tripped to open the door. His breath hitched at the sight of your bare face. This time, you were the vulnerable one. Jeno only saw purity, yet impressed at how your tired eyes still managed to bid him a soft smile. He admired your uneven complexion, and the sparse moles that dotted your skin. 

“Okay, so you want to see me naked now or later?” Filled with jokes, your voice was light and airy this afternoon. There was a bit of a contrast from the first time you two met. Softer, enchanting, almost ghostly. 

Everything in the room was white. The mattress on the floor had a white comforter and white sheets. The backdrop. The walls. The hardwood floor. The only color was the blue sky that the tall windows let in.

“Here’s a robe. You can change in the bathroom.” Jeno scratched the back of his neck and his eyes wandered everywhere, but your’s. 

“Would you be okay with me just taking off my clothes in here?” You saw the light tint of pink cover his face, and spread to his ears. You examined more of the shy boy’s embarrassed face, finally getting a really good look at him. Jeno was very attractive, and you could only imagine how beautiful he must look if he fully faced you.

Jeno fiddled with his camera strap, “only if you are okay with that.” Clearing his throat, he stood next to the window to give you some privacy. “I’ll go over what I plan on doing. I’m going to take photos of your face details, parts of your body, full body, and portraits. You can lay down on the bed and I’ll direct you in poses. Have you modeled before?”

He was scanning the bustling city below his feet. Cars zoomed quickly and crowds of tiny people flooded the streets. He brought his camera up to his face, not being able to resist the urge to capture such a thrilling sight. 

“If Instagram counts, then yeah. Professional model gig would be a no. Nude photography is a definite no, unless we are talking about being filmed during sex.” Jeno chuckled, while also holding the camera steady and stealing a few moments to keep for himself.

For a strange reason, being naked for a non-sensual reason felt even more vulnerable. Laying on the soft fabric, you felt oddly exposed and slightly more reserved. You’ve had countless strangers see you naked. Men were sexually desiring to see a sexy picture. You were always lusted after, but this feeling of nakedness was special.

“Are you ready?” Jeno gulped, finally setting the camera down. 

You hummed cheerfully. Your heart was leaping out of your chest as the boy shifted slowly to face you. As he turned, you noticed he had his eyes sealed shut, which caused a small laugh to erupt. “Jeno, you have my permission to open your eyes and to look at me.”

Holy shit, he was trembling with an inexplicable fear. The camera was slipping from his sweaty hands. His mouth was as dry as the desert. Jeno’s pounding heart was loud in his ears. 

Jeno has seen his past girlfriends laying naked in bed, but this situation was too different. When he saw you laying there in absolutely nothing, he was overwhelmed, yet astounded at how graceful you appeared.

There was no exchange of words and no exchange of eye contact. He towered over your lying figure and shakily brought the camera to his eyes. He selfishly wanted to capture your elegance. Through the lens, he saw all of you: the curve in your eyelid, your curled eyelashes, the small mole next to your soft lips, the sharp color of your eyes, the way your hair frames your face.

This was the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen. You were comparable to the arts found in popular museums. Your body lines were enticing and an impressive shape. Your breasts pooled on your chest, the round nude nipple in the centers. Your details had to be sculpted by gods, who took their sweet time making you. You were a true masterpiece. 

Confused, Jeno felt a huge mixture of emotions. Was he aroused? Was he infatuated? Did he just fall in love with a complete stranger? He recognized the same thrilled feelings he felt taking landscape photos. With each click, he grew more excited with how beautiful the photos were turning out.

“Sit up and rest your chin on your left hand. Lean your weight on your right leg.” Jeno’s direction was clear and firm. There was no evidence of a smaller tone he usually spoke in. Sitting up, you placed your elbow on your upper thigh to steady your chin. Jeno had already gotten down to floor level to you. 

Without the camera that separated you two, it had to be the first time he faced you completely in such close proximity. There was so much to admire about Jeno. He remained concentrated on his craft, but it was actually very sexy to see his dedication. It was almost like he was a whole new person, like all the shyness drifted away. 

Jeno couldn’t take his eyes off of you. It wasn’t simply your beauty that amazed him. Your confidence made everything easy. There was something about your blank stares, when he asked for an emotion, you portrayed it perfectly.

“Can we talk while you shoot?” Your sudden voice startled the photographer. He lowered his camera and his gaze automatically wandered off behind you, which didn’t go unnoticed. He nodded after a short pause and the shutter noises continued.

“Why did you choose me as your model?” 

Jeno peeled away from the device, “because you’re you.” He didn’t even know what that statement meant. It wasn’t like he knew you before the first time he asked you to model for him.

The corners of your lips dipped down, drawing an evident frown. Click. Jeno loved that image especially. It was a simple way to get real, authentic facial expressions. He marveled at the photo, but registered the reason behind it. “I wanted to ask you the second I saw you. I just knew that I wanted you.” 

“But you don’t know me.” 

Jeno looked through the lens once again, welcoming a full view of your stunning attributes. He spoke in a low voice, “then, let me know you.” Click. 

It would be the biggest lie to say that you weren’t aroused by Jeno at the moment. He was cool, without trying to be. He really did shine when he had a camera to work with, like a star to a dark night. While he had a distinct demeanor off the bat, you enjoyed unraveling the rest of him. He was, also, the first man you met that didn’t seem sexually driven by a naked woman in his presence. 

You had to resist every urge to push the camera away and share the few seconds of his entire gaze before it wandered away. You wanted to rock his world, he was so innocent and beautiful. You wished to wreak havoc on him, have him show you how much he wanted you. 

+

You anticipated an awkward photoshoot, but Jeno made you feel safe and comfortable. He made sure to adjust the temperature when goosebumps rose on your arms and when your nipples became painfully hard. He never touched you or came too much into your personal space. He always asked for your permission. 

Nude modeling was a new experience for you, but you were surprised at how much you liked it. or how much you liked Jeno taking your photos. He sat next to you on the bed when you put on your articles of clothing and panned through several shots to satisfy your curiosity.

Leaning close, your head ducked to see the photos. A gasp escaped your lips when you saw just the first few. “Is that really me?” The pictures made you feel an abundance of emotions, you felt what they reflected. Sadness, melancholy, happiness, confidence. You didn’t know images had that much power to make you feel that, especially photos of you.

Jeno nodded, smiling so wide that his eyes turned to moon crescents. He was so in love with the results. He found respect for Taemin’s craft and he was right, he might’ve found a new forte to experiment with. “I can send you the photos digitally too, if you want them.”

“Maybe I’ll print them out, frame them, and gift it to every horrid man who has tried to flirt their way to my body since they want to see it so fucking bad.” 

Jeno peered over and saw the tiny glimpse of pain in your orbs, “why would you give horrible people what they want?”

“So they can finally shut up and leave me alone. Plus, this is art and if I tell them it’s actually me, maybe it’ll change their minds to start treating me like it.” 

He held his palm up and almost immediately, your fingers filled the spaces between his. “I’m going to need you to start treating yourself as fine art.”

“Keep taking more photos of me and I just might start thinking I’m Mona Lisa.” Your laughters blended nicely into each other. There was mutual mental acknowledgement of the happiness you were both feeling.

Jeno never let go of your hand, and there was a short moment of comforting silence where you two sat in each other’s existence. You were the one to break it, “are you doing anything after this?” 

He shook his head. “Well then, you’re mine for the rest of the night. We’re going to pretend we’ve been close friends since first year and eat take-out on my bed because that’s what I need at the moment.” 

+

“I know you respect my body and see this as an art form, but I’m genuinely surprised that you didn’t feel aroused at the slightest.”

Jeno didn’t even realize how much time had already passed being you. You two ate and chatted as if you’ve known each other forever, as if the friendship wasn’t established several hours ago. It felt safe and right, like you two belonged in each other’s existence and nowhere else mattered.

He felt warm inside from your hearty laughter and courage, like he was watching a painting come to life or a photo in movement. You were smitten over how endearing and complex he was. He was more than what meets the eye and that alone drew you towards him.

“Okay, I’ll admit,” Jeno paused to watch your reaction, “in the most respectable way, I was somewhat turned on. But! Before you trail blaze me for being just like every disgusting male in your life, I genuinely didn’t have any sexual thoughts during the photoshoot. That was all professional and it will continue to be like that.” 

Getting up from your bed, your mind was working at lightspeed to process his confession. Jeno was fast to pick up someone’s personality, what stood out and what was kept hidden. He knew quicker than anyone else that you were not someone to offend because you were a strong, straight forward woman.

His personality breakdown went like this: you knew what you like, you knew you were going to get what you want, you enjoyed flirty banter (with people of your choice), you weren’t afraid to be blunt, or kick someone’s ass. You carried yourself with confidence that graced your every step, which makes anyone attracted to you instantly. Bold, confident, sexy had to be what came to mind whenever he thought about you. 

Nonetheless, he really liked you as a person. He could pat himself on the back all day long for just approaching you, but he knew the real reason as to how this all happened. It was you saying yes to a stranger’s odd photoshoot. You made him the luckiest man in the world. 

“Continue? Are you looking for excuses to keep seeing me?” You smirked and Jeno’s voice grew small. 

“I--- uh, well,” there goes the nervous stammering, “I know the conditions were a one time thing, so I understand if you don’t want to do it again.” As the night had progressed, Jeno gradually began to hold eye contact and actually looked at you directly without the help of seeing you through a lens. This was the first time he broke it. 

“Hey now, I’m messing with you, Jeno.” He had been sitting on your floor, at the end of your bed. You crawled on your elbows to reach him, and to hold his chin to face you again. Deja vu. “I’d love to get naked for you again, and again, and.. as many times as you want me to.” 

He stared at you with his mouth hung open in disbelief. His eyes scanned your beautiful face to see your lips pull back into a mischievous smile. Gulping, he swallowed every ounce of courage he had left. “You don’t have to say it like that.” He tried to remove your grip, but it latched onto his hand. 

“You’re finally looking me in the eye, sweet thing. I don’t think you realize how much I had been wanting that from you.” You caressed his cheek, rubbing small circles on his texture. 

“What else do you want from me?” His implication sounded suggestive, even if his curiosity was innocent. 

Your hot breath brushed against Jeno’s lips. “I can show you.”

Jeno, the one and only college guy who has seen your naked body in a non-sexual context. Jeno, the shy, sweet boy who appreciated and recognized you as a form of art. Jeno, the talented and skillful photographer, who consistently made sure you felt comfortable. Jeno, the only person in the world who you’d model nude for. Jeno, the dazzling character behind the camera who you wanted more than anyone else you’ve ever met. Lee Jeno.

He seemed like he was inching closer, already tilting his head to fit your’s. You smiled to yourself, seeing that your words were received well. Diving in, your lips swam together fervently. 

The poor boy found himself lost in your enchanting, alluring gaze. He let the trance consume him, selfishly kissing the art he admired so dearly. A small part of him felt the guilt and confusion that began to rise. He wasn’t sure why he suddenly wished to feel your lips on his neck, or run his hands across your hot skin. He swore these thoughts were not present earlier. 

A small pop! and Jeno held your shoulder to pull away. “I’m sorry, did I do something?” You asked, honestly concerned that you were taking more than you deserved. The least you desired was to hurt Jeno, who had been nothing but nice and sweet.

“(Y/N),” you could listen to your name roll off his tongue all day, “I feel somewhat guilty. I don’t want things to be misunderstood.”

“Which would be?”

“I don’t want you to think I coerced you into being my model just because I had intentions to sleep with you.” Jeno was already gathering his things, but you hopped off your bed and placed a hand on his chest. “Because that’s what it’s starting to look like at the moment.”

“Was that something you did though? Did you have those intentions?” Your stare bore right through him. The warmth of your hand relaxed his racing heart.

“Never, (Y/N), I would never do that to someone.” Your hand traveled down to grab his belongings and tossed it back onto the ground. 

He silently watched as you took off your pants, and stood in front of him in your underwear. “Then, we’re fine. I know your intentions have always been pure. But truthfully, Jeno, seeing you focused while you worked sparked something in me. You don’t understand how aroused I got and how badly I wanted you to fuck me on that bed.” His hand trailed up your exposed thighs, finally touching your softness. “You’re the one guy I wanted first, and it’s been a long time since I’ve felt that.” 

“I-- I don’t know what to say.” His cheeks revealed how embarrassed he was, but his dark, lustful eyes were telling a different story.

A smirk fell upon your face, “then don’t say anything.” 

Jeno devoured you, inhaling the light hint of vanilla that still lingered. He hoisted you onto your mattress and kissed you like his life depended on it. His antsy hands roamed your free range, exploring, holding, gripping the parts he marveled over. Small moans from the back of your throat encouraged him to continue.

No one has ever kissed you with the amount of passion Jeno did. It was gentle, with enough vigor to cause your panties to dampen. It wasn’t sloppy, where previous guys had a problem of missing your mouth entirely and slobbered your chin. 

His lips worshiped you, highlighting your good sides. Flashes of the photoshoot popped into Jeno’s head as he left purple marks on the places he loved capturing the most. He pushed up your shirt, exposing your chest to him again. His tongue circled around your hard nipple as he made sure to give the same amount of attention to each one. 

Jeno knew he was too shy to hold your intense stare, but getting to know you during and after the photoshoot, he could see the softness in your gaze. He was, now, able to see all of you. The sight of you through the camera was addicting enough, so finally taking you all in was more than satisfying. 

Your hands ran through his hair as he kissed down your torso. His thumbs hooked the waistband of your underwear, and peeled it off your body. You gasped as the cold air from your apartment grazed against your exposed figure.

Jeno paused to admire your glistening pussy, “would it be okay if you let me make love to you?”

Your heart burned, not out of embarrassment, but at how he still managed to ask you for your permission in the sweetest way. You rested your weight on your elbows, “no one has done that before, would it actually make me want to fall in love with you?”

“It wouldn’t be too bad. I have a lot of love to give and you look like a person who deserves all of it anyways.” Jeno’s finger ran over your wet slit and rubbed your clit slowly.

Your moans filled the room as the electric jolted throughout your veins. The wetness grew, seeping out of you like a waterfall. Jeno dropped down to his knees, and lifted your legs on his broad shoulders.

“Are you usually this wet, baby?”

Chuckling, you smiled at his bold choice in using pet names, “Just for you.”

He hummed, chiming at how he liked your answer. Spreading you open, his tongue met with your swollen bud that begged for his licks.

His tongue darted side to side, up and down and in result, your back arched in pleasure and a darkness clouded your mind. His name and mindless profanities streamlined their way out of you as Jeno ate you out in such a precisely delicious way.

Grabbing a fist full of hair, you pulled him closer, even if there was no more space to fill. Looking down, you two exchanged glances before he thrusted a finger into you. Your hips bucked harder as he eased in another one.

Jeno curled his fingers in search of your sweet spot and found it when a deep moan escaped your throat. His fingertips rubbed and pressed into your plush flesh, causing you to practically scream and squirm in his mouth. 

He suckled your clit and fingered you simultaneously and quickly. The pleasure was overflowing and you released his hair to grip your sheets below you. Your legs shook and trembled as he had no caution to stop.

“Please, I’m going to--” you could barely talk due to your face contouring to the splurge of pleasure every single time Jeno rubbed your spot. “--to explode.” 

He had to take back what he thought earlier in the day. This was the most beautiful sight he’s ever laid eyes on. The whole scene played like from one of his favorite films. It felt like he was giving his photos life. Your body twisted and turned, accentuating the curves of your lines. 

Jeno had become painfully hard against the fabric of his jeans, but seeing you fall apart because of his minimal movements exhilarated him. “P-Please, don’t stop.” A breathy moan followed suit and your thighs tried to press themselves together. Jeno didn’t allow it, his free hand hooked underneath your left thigh to pull one side away from his cheeks.

Your high gradually grew so tall that it all eventually came cascading down. Your legs shook violently and sat up from the euphoria that took over you. Jeno prolonged your buzz and you screamed loudly, having to bite down on your fingers to stop yourself from angering your neighbors.

Jeno drank you up, letting your wetness cover his chin and drip down his knuckles. He pulled away, at last, and you took deep breaths to control your heavy breathing. It was like Jeno knocked the wind completely out of you. 

He stood up and you saw the outline of his hard bulge straining itself through his jeans. The next scene was quite animalistic. You, still embodying your high, sat on your knees and unzipped his pants with your needy hands.

“Now, it’s your turn to get nude for me.” You whispered, tauntingly. Jeno groaned when you reached down and gently pulled him out. He stepped out of his clothing, all of it. His shirt was lost in the corner and his bottoms were scattered over your floor. Mirroring his actions, you took off your last piece of cloth.

Jeno was built. Though his biceps did not go unnoticed during the photoshoot, you were surprised at the lines of muscle that sketched his body. It made your mouth water, seeing his extremely hard dick stand against his toned abs. His red tip fell just below his navel. Jeno only kept getting better as the night continued on.

Pulling him closer, his hand found their way to the back of your head as you aligned your mouth to the wetness that spilled from his tip. “I want to make you feel good.” Jeno’s hoarse voice made your knees weak.

Peering up, you batted your eyelashes at him fondly. “Just a little taste?” You begged, having to hold his shaft with both of your hands because of his thickness. Your tongue was already stuck out, your hot breath causing the tiniest bit of sensation for him.

He nodded and his eyes were trained on you. He didn’t want to miss any second of your kitty licks. You flattened your tongue against his warmth, dragging it up to the top. The saltiness hit your palette as you swirled around his redness. “Oh--” Jeno threw his head back and bit his lip, “--lay on the bed now.” 

You smiled sweetly and gave his member a quick kiss before reaching for a condom in your drawer. Jeno climbed onto your bed and situated the rubber comfortably. You laid on your back and he was fast to pull your legs around his waist. 

He lined himself at your entrance and eased his tip in slowly. Squirming, you craved him to fill you up to the brim. He leaned down to kiss you, letting your tongue lap with his. It’s your hands with the mind of their own when they flew automatically to hold his face whenever you wanted to deepen the kiss. Then, Jeno stretched himself all the way in and he caught your gasp with his lips. He groaned, feeling the mess he created merely minutes ago. 

His hips moved so easily with your wetness, but he went slow. Dragging out each pull and then, pushing himself back in roughly. “Jeno!” Your body jolted up the bed each time. His body fell over yours to hold you intimately, letting you bury your face into his neck. Your lips latched themselves onto his sensitive skin, painting a purple sunset. 

Jeno’s arms snaked underneath your thighs as he pressed them to your chest, folding you almost into a ball. Your mouth hung open as he fucked you harder, rougher, deeper yet keeping the tempo rhythmically slow. At this point, you could feel his hits in your gut. Your weak hands gripped loosely around his strong wrists that held your legs down. “You’re pussy is so tight and holy shit---, you keep getting more beautiful.”

A familiar burning sensation set in your chest as you saw how concentrated his face had become. You were so fucked out that you could barely speak, “you—” his hips mercilessly slammed into you powerfully, enacting a low moan every time he reached your sweet spot. “—keep surprising me.” His actions came to a halt and he stared deeply into your soul. 

You whined, wiggling your hips for any friction. He held them down into the mattress, knowing his grip was strong enough to leave a mark. “I told you, I was going to make love to you tonight.”

“I’ve already fallen for you.” You said breathlessly, tracing the side of his face and pecking his lips softly. 

“You don’t understand what you’re doing to me by saying those things.” He whispered and pushed his entire shaft to fill you to your brim. 

You yelped his name and gripped his shoulders, but he wasn’t done yet. “Show me how badly you wanted me the first time you saw me.” Jeno blinked at you in slight shock. 

As he continued to hold the deep gaze, he kept pushing his dick further and further into you. He was balls deep, almost impossible to keep going. He fucked you without the need to pull out, just burying his cock deeper into your wet pussy. You exclaimed, moaned, cussed at every push. Holding the stare was more than enough to lose yourself all over him again. 

Jeno was drunk with the image of your fucked out expression and every time the mixture of pleasure and pressure caused your eyebrows to crease and mouth to open release sensual sound. He had been trying his best not to come undone, to fixate another climax for you.

The feeling of you wrapping tighter and tighter around him drove him insane. “Give it to me, please.” Your muffled plead called for his release, but he could feel that you were close to your second.

Jeno sat up on his knees and pulled you into his arms where your thighs fell over his. You groaned at the empty feeling, though it was quickly replaced with a gratifying moan when he inserted himself again. Your arms dangled around his neck, foreheads touching intimately. 

The fucking eye contact again, how could you get enough of it? You giggled, amused at how different Jeno was when he eventually opened up. He wrapped his strong arms around your back and thrusted his hips up into you. The way this man made you squirm, scream, and shake were nothing you’ve experienced before. 

He smirked, placing a gentle kiss on your cheek when he went rampage on your pussy. “Not laughing now, are you?”

You whined in pleasure, brushing your fallen strands of hair out of his face. “Shut up before I make you.” 

“Then I’d rather keep going.” Kissing up his jawline, you lead your way to his pout. His kisses intoxicated you with his passion and madness, like the most intense part of a symphony, or when the bass drops after a long build up in a song. 

Jeno sped up, ramming up into your slick pussy over and over again. He even brought your hips down to match him, guiding you down as he went up. The headboard was knocked against the wall, your windows steamed up, cries of pleasure from the both of you created the ambiance, the smell of sex filled your lungs. Jeno reached between your bodies to furiously rub your clit to where it felt almost raw. It all sent you into the clouds, the familiar queasiness settled in your lower half.

Your eyes rolled back and your back arched, having to pull away from the desirous kiss with Jeno. “I’m cumming!” You announced before the tension unraveled, causing you to see absolute white. The second wave was much more uncontrollable, Jeno felt you squeezing radically around his dick as he tried to fuck you faster to prolong the feeling.

Your legs shook around his and your upper body went limp with pleasure. You reached the peak of the mountain and it came crumbling down underneath your toes. It was catastrophically enthralling, to the point where you physically felt something leave your body.

“Oh shit..” Jeno stopped his motions at the sight of you squirting over his lap. He pampered your torso with fluttering kisses, hoping to calm your spastic body. “...baby, are you okay?” He asked with a bit of concern of how lack of life you seemed. 

This man just gave you the best climax in your whole life and he asked if you were okay? Regaining your senses, you sighed a small yes to reassure him that he didn’t actually murder you. Hopping off, you pulled the condom that restricted him.

He hissed when you cupped his balls in your palm. “Cum, my sweet thing.” You purred and Jeno’s hand pumped his member aggressively. You leaned in to help, sucking the tip and flicking your tongue over his slit. 

His other hand gripped your neck, causing you to drip on your sheets. Jeno was panting and with every tug, it became louder. He seemed so desperate to release that it made you smile to be the reason behind it. “Can you lay down,” A grunt followed his question, “please.” He huffed.

“Because you asked nicely.” Smirking, your back hit the sheets and you opened your legs to give Jeno a view. He situated himself above your stomach, as he fucked his tight grip.

“I’m cumming---” He couldn’t look any more amazing. With a final moan, the white streaks streamed out in short sequences. It landed across your abdomen, over your nipple, and pooled around your belly button. 

Bringing himself back to reality, Jeno stepped back to marvel you, his masterpiece. The white streaks coated your purple skin and your chest rose fast to catch your reality. Gazing upon your naked body, he was utterly infatuated with all of you. He was so in love with the sight of you that not a single photo could capture the beauty that you were. 

Jeno pondered the thought of how merely a day changed a small part of him. You were life changing, addicting, an incomparable character that he felt like he’s known forever, and now, couldn’t live without. It was the taste of your juices on his lips, your sweet melodic music that was your voice, your daring smile that enticed him to never peel away from you. It was simply you. 

He leaned down to rub his knuckles against your cheek, planting a lovingly peck on your forehead. “I’ll go start the water for you.” 

+

Jeno anticipated the reaction of his mentor. He found himself at the same scene he was when he was first given the task. Taemin sat across from him, hunched forward to analyze his new set of photos on his laptop. Raw, unedited photos of you, your body, your details. 

The hum of the air conditioning droned on, driving him mad. Jeno needed one reaction, but Taemin had been silent and expressionless for the past ten minutes. Whenever he did move, it was to click through to the next picture. 

Suddenly, he shut it closed and stood right up. Jeno, panicked, did the same. Taemin stuck his hand out and Jeno hesitantly grabbed it, incredibly unsettled and unable to read the older man.

Taemin received it firmly, giving Jeno a good handshake. “Welcome abroad, Lee Jeno. I expect even more great things from you.” 

Jeno registered his delightful mood switch and he was fast to follow up, “my photos, --- you --- like them?” 

Taemin nodded generously, patting Jeno on his shoulder. Taemin reached up to tap his own eyelids. “What you can see, is very special, kid. You’re an artist and I’m here to recognize that for you. It seems to me, you can do more than take pictures of sidewalks.” 

Jeno smiled happily, his eyes disappearing from joy. He couldn’t wait to tell you about it. 

The rest of the week, leading up to Jeno’s appointment, had felt nothing short of blissful moments together. You and Jeno spent almost every waking minute together without the cost of your friends’ time. He walked you to your classes, some even being across the campus from his own. You accompanied him for meals, even sitting in his lectures to just be with him.

There were no words that established what you two had become to each other. Jeno wasn’t looking for that anyways, in fact, he somewhat liked the ambiguity. If only he could tell you how making love to you made him begin to actually fall for you.

You were never one to hold a serious relationship, but you found a small want for that festering in Jeno. It was hard to admit to yourself, but Jeno saw you for all that you were. He truly saw you, whether it had been through a lens or through his own eyes. He captured your rawness and you were able to find vulnerability around him. 

He ran to you, where you sat in the lobby waiting for him to finish his meeting. Peering up from your phone, you noticed the beaming smile on the boy’s face. You couldn’t hold back your own grin, seeing him apparent with so much joy. “I’m guessing good things?”

“I got it, (Y/N)!” He jumped into your arms and you laughed at the sudden affection. “He loved my photos.” 

“I didn’t doubt it for one second. You’re an artist, Jeno. You create masterpieces that make even someone like me, feel like art.” 

Jeno hugged you closer to his chest, giving you a tiny squeeze. Pulling away to face you, his eyes examined your outstanding grace. You knew what he was already going to say, but simply wanted to hear him say it. “That’s because you are art.”

[gagmebucky]

hi it’s been awhiiiiiile since i was able to write and this is unedited 😓 dont be too harsh 😅

anonymous said: I just read ''am i right where you want me?'' And it was wonderful, I can't describe the emotions I felt. I was wondering if it is in your plans to do a second part? And if not, can I leave you little questions like WHAT IF one day y/n brings a boy to a party in Bucky's house?

He cranes his neck down, and his mouth grazes the shell of your ear. “What was that comparison between me and that overgrown fratboy again?” he goads while your hips roll up and down across his thigh, a damp trail in your wake. “‘Cause I’m barely touching you, and you can’t manage a coherent sentence.” He chuckles lightly. “Makin’ a mess all over my jeans.”

in which you bring a boy to a party, and your best friend’s father definitely doesn’t care—except that he does. (includes bucky’s pov, enemies to lovers thinly veiled jealousy, dirty talk, mild choking, mild exhibitionism and voyeurism, thigh riding.)

do not repost.

—

He’s an idiot. On-brand for what one would expect your type to be.

A stereotypical meathead with arms bigger than what is undoubtedly a pea-sized brain. Dirty blond and blue-eyed, center of the room as he brags about his ability to chug! chug! chug!; does he have to be such a clichè?

This isn’t the first time you’ve invited other people around. Girls, guys, identities as both and neither, apparently, you’re quite charming. As far as his daughter goes, she enjoys the company you reel in and bodes well for the parties she likes to host. These initially small gatherings progress into a full blown festival as a result.

The difference, opposed to the previous times, is how close you’ve been with him all night. The other invitees eventually parted from you—or vice versa—getting into the music, games and drinking atmosphere. But for some reason, he’s buzzing around you like a fly, and rather than swat him away, it looks like you’re truly enjoying his company. Or maybe it’s you that’s orbiting around him.

James should get it but there’s a part of him, way in the recesses of his mind, that just fucking doesn’t. He stands by the fact that you’re obnoxious—sometimes subtly, sometimes loudly—so it should make sense you’re attracted to someone who’s also obnoxious.

He doesn’t care. Not really. Sure, his eyes have been on you this whole time and he’s wracking his brain to figure out what rapport you two can possibly have that’s up to par for a mouthy little thing like you. But it’s for that irritant at the base of his skull that needs to understand it. That’s all. No deeper feelings involved.

Who wears a swiss watch and a baseball cap to a party, anyway? A guy named Thor, it turns out. To his credit, his obnoxiousness isn’t malicious or intentional but more so a product of his personality and otherwise harmless.

The thing is, you can do better. Seriously. It’d be truly insecure of him to deny your beauty and the allure your apparent charm has so he knows that you do have your pick of the crop. That bite you have demands higher standards, you thrive when you have someone to debate.

Thor is not that someone. It's an insult to even consider.

And he won’t. In fact, this entire hang-up is stupid, and he can’t believe he’s wasted all this time harping on it. He doesn’t care, anyway. It’s simply curiosity, asinine curiosity he’s done giving his attention to. Curiosity did kill the cat, and by cat, he means brain cells.

Although he doesn’t care for parties—his daughter loves them so he doesn’t mind having a few for her sake—there’s far better things he can be doing. His mood won’t be sullied by you. If anything, he should be thanking fratboy for keeping you occupied and not readily gnawing on his nerves.

On that thought, his gaze flickers around the room. There’s a vibrant beat thumping through the spaciously conjoined living room-kitchen-patio area, playing from a list of your orchestrating, and the drink dispenser is still half-full of a juice and liquor mixture. It’s populated but balanced with friends and friends of friends.

Yeah, there’s plenty of things to do, he confirms with the sultry looks he receives during his survey. You’re not the only one with a personal pick of the crop. It’s about time he takes advantage of that, prove that you aren’t all that, but as he accidentally makes eye contact on a forward step.

Mid-speech, gathered by a game of beer pong, whatever you’re saying and gesticulating about trails off. A trick of light and distant—or a trick of his mind—your reflective hues suddenly have a twinkle. But it isn’t directed at the conversation at hand.

Your best friend and your date are immersed in the topic: laughs and smiles all around. You are not. You’re half-listening, perfunctory nods and appropriately cued laughs. Instead, your attention keeps drawing back to him, back-and-forth even as he resists the urge to glance back.

He doesn’t care. Not at all. That’s why he’s ignoring the entire right side of the room; he doesn’t have any interest in what’s going on around you. The last thing he needs is you coming over and being, well, you. That possibility is the reason why his heart hurdles—because he’s agitated to have you waltzing over, and not because you’ll be snubbing fratboy for him.

Which, of course, you’re doing. A stolen glance proves his gut clenching instincts. Body language foreshadows your goodbye, a wave and smile of finality, before you’re a side-step and forward trek to his vicinity.

His pride stays strong with his interest elsewhere as you make your way through the room. Though, his ears aren’t tuned out because he can hear people saying hello, progressively getting louder with the closer you get.

Eventually, you’re less than a foot away, and he’s not one to turn the other cheek. Being the “bigger man” is a glorified admission of losing.

“Mr. Barnes,” is what you greet him with somewhat pleasantly, and it’s surprising. The only explanation is that lover-boy has put you in a good mood. That should be a plus since he won’t have to deal with your smartassery but he finds himself dissatisfied by the sentiment.

But he doesn’t bother with a response, and there’s a sardonic twist of your lips at the silence, sparking like lightning beneath his skin because he knows your assholeish nature can’t be tamed (much less by some frat boy).

“How’s that lemon you’ve been sucking on for the past two hours and a half?” you pose the quip casually, a mild angle of your eyebrow. “I’d think by now all the sourness would be gone.” You click your tongue matter-of-factly, on a roll that can’t be interrupted as you continue, “Evidently not ‘cause you still got that dumbass look on your face.”

He snorts, a bit astounded by the audacity. “You have some nerve talking about dumb, considering frat boy over there.” His head juts to the side in gesture to your so-called date who’s trying to catch goldfish being tossed into his mouth. “Bet you had an amazing conversation talking in one-to-three syllables.” He leans forward, getting a sweet waft of your scent, and utters with as much snark as possible, “You know, ‘cause anymore would be too complex.”

Your mouth opens but instead of speaking, your brows furrow and you cock your head. “Are you kidding me?” Your thumb jabs to a six-foot blond cheering and high-fiving because he’s caught ten in a row. “He has a masters in applied physics and electrical engineering.” You look delighted when his jaw clenches, and your arms fold. “He’s far from dumb, Mr. Barnes.”

James bristles and pretends like his ego isn’t threatened. “Whatever,” he says and it’s not his best comeback. He clears his throat and tosses you a half-hearted scowl. “Then he’s out of your league.”

You tilt your head. “Are - are you jealous?”

“J - jealous?” he splutters in a cross of horror and denial, absolutely loathing the twist inside his ribcage. He shakes his head vehemently as he shuffles on his feet. “Not in your fucking wildest dreams. I don’t give a fuck about you and some moron who probably bought his degrees.” It’s far more aggressive than intended, a full-on snap unlike the usual back-and-forth you two have. “It’s just another reason why I question why in the hell my daughter would willingly hangout with you.”

The harshness should invoke fire in your eyes but there’s a flawless smile gracing your lips, perfectly formed with the deviousness glittering in your gaze. “I’m glad you’re not jealous,” you tell him, lifting your chin as you edge forward. “Because in addition to being smart, he’s really good with his hands. If y’know, what I mean. . .”

Something violent strikes him. For reasons unknown, the picture of you and him—breathy, needy because of that guy’s fingers wedged between your thighs—claws underneath his skin in a way more impactful than anything before. “You’re fucking shameless,” he says in vague state of shock but you’re undeterred, if anything spurred on.

You laugh. “You should know that by now.” You dramatize a look around before getting in close, your profile on the other side of his when you stage-whisper, “I’m not even wearing panties right now. I’m just waiting for the moment he gets me alone and fingerfucks me ‘til I cry.” You straighten and smile brightly. “So it’s really good you don’t care.”

There’s a twinkle on your eye when you realize he’s rendered speechless. Your tongue swipes across your bottom lip, teeth sinking in when the corners threaten to turn up, self-satisfied by every vulgar word you uttered but not enough because you keep going:

“Besides, talent like Thor’s is far out of your league. You might want to stop being such a hater, by the way. Ask him for some tips instead.” It’s innocent and so fucking patronizing he has to grit his teeth. “Maybe then, you won’t be such a sad-sack in the corner, old man.”

Adrenaline is scathing as it pumps through his veins, a nasty green feeling creeping up behind him and recoiling in his gut. “You—”

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna ‘go to the bathroom’ but not really.” You touch his arm when you wink. “I hope he gets the hint, though. He’s smart in his field but. . . a little absent-minded generally.” You’re looking over him in the midst of a rousing beer pong game. “The duality of man, I suppose.” You shrug and cast your best friend’s father one last glance before departing. “Have fun playing by yourself, Mr. Barnes.”

You’re out of the room and down the hallway, heading to that bathroom on the second floor where the music will be faint and the occupants will be only you—pantyless.

You’re baiting him.

Unlike your date, he’s not fucking clueless. He’s genuinely insulted that you think he wouldn’t know what you’re doing. Or, is your ego that untethered to reality that you know he knows and will fall under your spell nonetheless? Which is more offensive, he isn’t sure.

If you think he’s going to follow you up like a lovesick puppy and accost you, thereby confirming your incorrect ‘jealousy” theory, you’re wrong. Like much in your life, you are not right. If you think that Mr. Far-From-Dumb can offer you something he can, then you can discover that disappointment yourself.

Speaking of, although his feet are glued to the floor (he isn’t even tempted), he doesn’t resist taking a peek over. To see him still standing there, he isn’t sure if he’s astounded, or unsurprised. But he is, looking unconcerned about your disappearance and more engaged in the game than ever.

James has to be honest, he feels a mild sense of anger. He can’t understand how Thor could be focused on anything other than you, especially because you’d been so gracious to provide your attention to him. He knows he’s older but even he’d pick up on those signals all night.

Time seems faster. Seconds past, and Thor isn’t making any moves to leave. It’s driving him a tad insane. You’re upstairs, hot, wanting and fucking ready for the taking, yet this guy is raving about making an impossible shot.

His muscles twitch, and he has to grit his teeth and mentally recite, I’m not going, I’m not going, I am not—

His hand catches your wrist, fingers encircling the circumference snugly, and yanks: haphazard, with enough force to falter your balance. A backward stumble, and your back collides with the hallway way, expelling a gust of air past your lips in the process.

A brief expression of offense crosses your features, brows pinching and mouth opening to spout curses, but then your eyes recognize his. Instead, arrogance forms a curve of your lips. Undoubtedly, something infuriating is about to fall from your wicked tongue.

But he’s quick. On you like a flurry, his body corners yours and his knee fits perfectly between your thighs, against that unwrapped gift there for the taking. Whatever quip you intended to make drops because of the blunt pressure now pinning you in place; instead, there’s your shocked gasp, and he revels in the sound.

If there had been doubt you were bluffing before, it’s vanished because you’re radiating wet heat through his jeans. He’s never known something could feel so obscene; desire lurches through his veins and rattles between his ribcage so harshly it’s enraging.

“Oh, f - fuck,” you moan breathlessly. There’s a flutter of your lashes fully registering him before you, your tongue across your bottom lip and your teeth following; an erotic sight that pumps blood directly to his dick. Your hips are trying to writhe for stimulation, and a soft arch in your spine tosses your head back. “Mr. Barnes—James—”

One of his hands wraps around your bared throat and grounds you back to him face-to-face because he needs to watch the pleasure daze your features and see your lips babble his name. At the same time, he presses into you further, pushing up on his forefoot where he wrings a beautiful depraved sound out of you.

It shouldn’t please him, especially to the bone-deep sense degree he felt it at, but it does. You’re a puddle against him, your eyes a darkened focus, undeniable who’s got you like this; your face looks so pretty framed by his fist, an inciting gleam in your gaze at his snug but comfortable grip.

Your fingers curl around his wrist gently, nails sinking crescents into the skin for purchase; he’s the only stability you can depend on right now. His height outmatches your own and his strength is likewise, the position of his knee at the junction of your legs leverages you upward, your hips in-line with the slant of his thighs. There’s faint tremors in your muscles, he feels, growing wobbly the more he works a rhythm against you.

“Mr. Barnes. . .” you whimper, gasping thereafter because he grinds his upper leg back and forth, abrasive strokes of jean against your soft sex. Your eyes widen a bit, bucking as much as you can into the sensations. “Oh, fuck me—f - fuck me. James. I - I—please.”

Another bat of your lashes, your lids shutter but his grip tightens in warning. With a wonderfully pathetic u - uh!, you come back to him, gaze bright and wanton. The beginnings of a smirk pulls at his lips, the cocky one between you two, dragging his dilated pupils over your needy, bliss-painted expression.

There’s a certain look in your stare that tilts his head. His ministrations slow, and he releases the bulk of his grasp. “Sorry,” he says with faux-politeness, if anything, prideful to render you all speechless and whimpering. “Is there something you wanted to say other than moaning my name?”

A flawless smile, your incisors gleaming a blinding white, you breathe, sotto voce all you can manage, “I knew you liked me. You’re fucking smitten, aren’t ‘cha, James?”

A couple words, and you’ve checked him. It’s impressive, there’s no denying; the effortlessness in your effect on him is something to behold. But it only fuels his need to assert he’s got as much power over you as you do over him. So rather than rebuttal, he spares a mocking show of teeth.

Then, promptly, in quite literal terms, he takes matters into his own hands. Matters being you, both palms grapple your hips, strength coiled his big arms that have him in complete control, and glides your slick little heat along the thick muscles of his thigh.

Like a rabbit, you squeal, high pitched at the harsh stimulation suddenly rutting over your poor pussy. The speakers are booming below, and it’s thankful otherwise the guests would be privy to the cute depravity. You jerk and jolt but he handles you like a fine ride; the amount of essence you’ve soaked through his pants, it’s practically a slip ‘n slide.

“O - oh, shit,” you gasp-moan-whimper, clawing at his chest, all but trembling in his arms. “Fucking hell. You’re gonna make me cum, aren’t you?” Your head falls forward, lulling over to his shoulder, and he can feel your heavy breathing through his shirt. All you can do is cling to him and reap the rewards of the ride. “James, fuck, you are.”

He cranes his neck down, and his mouth grazes the shell of your ear. “What was that comparison between me and that overgrown fratboy again?” he goads while your hips roll up and down across his thigh, a damp trail in your wake. “‘Cause I’m barely touching you, and you can’t manage a coherent sentence.” He chuckles lightly. “Makin’ a mess all over my jeans.”

“S - shut up!” Your shirt-clenched fists slap his chest weakly, then your face jerks back, realization on display. “Oh, shit. He might still come up here.”

Is it wrong that the thought thrills him?

“Yeah, and?” he rhetorics, well-aware of the bathroom diagonal from your joint position. “Did you really think I’d make this a private affair? You talked so tough downstairs, and now look at you.” His tongue darts across his bottom lip, feeling the ravenousness clenching in his gut. “What are you gonna say if he comes up here? Sees your pretty ‘ole dress around your hips while you desperately try to fuck my thigh? Hearing you blabber my name over and over again?”

”Mr—James—you’re such a—” A moan tears out of your throat, the jeaned fabric wreaking havoc on your throbbing button. “Fuck.”

He laughs. “You can’t string together a sentence so how ‘bout you just whimper, and I’ll explain that you can’t help yourself around me and when it comes down to it, it’s me that you’re gonna beg to make you cum,” he promises sagely.

Tendrils of your hair give them an excuse to trace his fingers down the perimeter of your face before tucking it behind your ear tenderly. There might be some concern over getting caught but it’s easily outweighed by the euphoria adorning your expression. This is what you wanted: him on you, and your so-called date was nothing more than your attempt to get it.

You put on a show because you wanted him. What an ego booster.

“He might have talented hands or what-the-fuck-ever but bunny, all I have to do is get you on my thigh, and look, your eyes are all pretty and glossy.” He rests his forehead on yours, counting the different reflects of need within your captivating hues. “Maybe I’ll give him a demonstration. A lesson? You’ll be the star of the show, of course, because I know you love the attention.”

“I hate you,” you gasp but he knows every word only turns you on. “I fucking hate you but please—please!”

It’s in rare form you’re pleading, and his skin feels like it’s glowing. “Is this your thing now? ‘I’m not wearing any panties, Mr. Barnes, so please come fuck me now.’” he continues to taunt and feels the quiver wrack you, snapping your hips to his barrage. At this point, you’re like jelly, pliant yet responsive to him. “Do you even own a pair, or are you giving me an all access pass?”

Something between a whimper and whine vibrates out of your throat, and your breathing is labored. “I’m gonna cum,” you whisper, and each muscle in your body starts to tighten. You blink up at him, a picture of desperation, phrasing intoned like an ask for permission though it’s a statement: “I’m gonna cum.”

The corner of his mouth quirks. “No,” he dissents, cooing in his correction of, “you’re gonna beg.” To show how serious he is, his hands relax and leave your hips bucking pathetically to mimic the pace he set.

Your eyes are moons of disbelief and need, offhandedly shaking your head d “That’s - that’s not funny,” you whine. “You can’t do that. I - I won’t.” Which is such a funny reaction because what did you think you were doing before.

He nods, nose-to-nose. “Yes. You will,” he says before drawing his hand up your side to grip your throat, dexterous fingers returning home on either side, a few millimeters shy of meeting at your nape. His thumb presses into your pulse where it’s hammering hotly.

“I—I’m not gonna - gonna beg! Would you just. . .?!!” is your frustrated but pleading reply, a puppy dog equivalent fluttering into his eyes. “You’re such a dick. You’re such a dick!”

He tsks in disapproval. “You don’t have any manners. It’s about time someone taught you some. Now beg me to make you cum like a good, proper girl.”

“Manners? Okay. You jerk off to me, don’t you?” you accuse, a grin creeping across your face because his own expression is shocked, caught-with-his-hand-in-the-cookie-jar like, and therefore affirming.

You nod, gloating. “Yeah. It’s my face that’s getting you off. When you’re two seconds away from blowing your lid, the thought of me is what sends you right over the edge. Is that mannerly, you think?” Your grin is full grown. “You’re perverse, Mr. Barnes. Don’t pretend other—oh, fucking—!”

Your relief-filled cry cuts you off because his hand has wedged between your mound and his thigh, and two digits curl up into your unprepared channel; a wet, warm vice that twitches wildly simultaneously at the intrusion and the now triggered release.

“Shut up,” he just about snarls as you clamp down around his fingers for dear life and your eyes slip behind your head.

You’re right on every single declaration. You’re always on his mind, and it’s not agitation that quickens his pulse, or anger that rushes through his veins but an embarrassing infatuation and desire. And tonight, when his fist is wrapped around his cock, it’s every sound, scent and feeling of this moment that’ll milk the cum right out of him.

[am i right where you want me? / send feedback here / my masterlist here.]