#and then carrying around and filling out a sketchbook | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

majestyeverlasting · 5 days ago

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𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧

This piece contains 18+ content

Pairing Eddie Munson x Female Reader

Summary Eddie’s had a long day, but being with you is enough to turn even the worst days into something sweeter [fluff, artsy reader, mild hurt/comfort, smut, 3.2k]

A/N This is some of my favorite smut I've written. Still very much stuck on him.

⠂⠁⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂

It’s much quieter in your neighborhood than it is in Forest Hills. No muffled music or raised voices carry from the houses around the cul-de-sac. Tired men don’t tinker on rusty cars. Unleashed dogs don’t sniff their way through ailing yards that aren’t their own. The only signs of life are cars in driveways and lamplight through windows. The golden sun hangs low in the darkening sky.

Eddie makes a final attempt to exhale the weight of the day away before he presses your doorbell. Not even a second later, the lock clicks and the door swings open.

The smile you offer has him convinced that every butterfly he’s ever seen now exists within the confines of his stomach. It’s as if familiarity and radiance itself exist in the way your lips lift upwards to reveal the glint of your teeth.

“I heard you pull up,” you say. “In case you were wondering why I opened the door in two seconds…” you trail off when you realize you don’t sound as convincing as you want.

Eddie smiles with a fond shake of his head. The action causes more of his curls fall onto his shoulders. He’d never make fun of you for being eager to see him. Especially when half the people in Hawkins care more about his skills beneath the hood than him as a person.

“Sorry I’m later than I said I’d be,” he says as you usher him inside. “Wanted to grab a shower before I came over.”

“Didn’t you hear?” Eddie's brow furrows innocently at your question. “I love the smell of motor oil.”

He huffs out a chuckle that makes you bite your lower lip to keep from grinning like a fool. Then he laughs again, deeper this time, like a funny thought has struck him. But he takes a step closer, cups your cheek, and kisses you. His lips are slow and easy against your own.

When he pulls away, you catch the weariness in his eyes, softened by gratitude as he takes you in. He could’ve gone home. He could’ve turned in for the night. But he wanted to see you too. He needed to see you.

“Hey,” you say softly. “Everything okay?”

You reach out to tuck his hair behind his ears, and he lets you. Any other time, he’d shake it back loose with a playful smirk. Tonight he doesn’t.

He catches your hand as you pull away, and dots a few kisses over your knuckles. Work and playing guitar have calloused his palms. His steel rings glint in the low light of the foyer.

“I’m okay,” he says into your skin. You remain quiet in hopes that it’ll coax more out of him. “Long day at the shop.”

You hum. “I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head. Don’t be.

“Got you something,” he remembers. "Been holding onto it for a couple days." He realizes he’s empty-handed.

“Shit. I left it in the van.”

You chuckle as he presses another quick kiss to the back of your hand before he lets go and pulls away.

When Eddie comes back inside, you’re on the living room couch with one leg tucked beneath you. The TV plays low reruns of I Love Lucy, but you grant him all your attention as he settles beside you. Before you have the chance to ask what’s in the brown paper bag, he pulls out a nice set of drawing pencils and a leather-bound sketchbook.

Your mouth falls open as he passes them over to you, his expression quietly hopeful. Big brown eyes eager for your reaction.

“Eddie…”

“You filled your last sketchbook. And you’ve been needing some new pencils." He rests his forearms on his thighs and licks his lips. "Knew you’d hold off on getting them for yourself so I figured..."

A smile finally breaks across your face.

“These are the fancy kind too," you note as you look over the pencils. "Thank you so much, baby. Really.” He shrugs like it's no big deal even as he bites back the proud quirk of his lips. It was a privilege to be able to do little things like this when he could.

The leather of the sketchbook is smooth as you flip open the cover to run your fingers over the crisp, fragrant pages.

When you meet his eyes again, your gaze is soft and observant, like you have an idea. It feels like you're seeing straight into him. He's handsome. Long curls, kind eyes, plush lips. Even then, it's clear he still wears the remnants of the hours prior, though he masks it well.

“Maybe I can draw you," you propose with the quiet hope he’ll oblige. “To break everything in.

"All you've gotta do is sit back and relax. We can talk, watch some TV, eat my snacks." He smiles at that last part.

After the frustrated customers he had to diffuse today, he can do that. Gladly so.

•••

The warm lamplight and the glow of the TV cast soft shadows across Eddie's face. His long lashes appear heavy with the relaxed way he blinks at the screen. He’s sunk back into the cushions, legs spread just so, hands interlocked over his stomach, rising and falling with his breaths. An empty bowl of popcorn rests on the coffee table along with a hollow box of Jujyfruits.

Five separate sketches of him now constitute the beginnings of your new sketchbook. He tilts his head to peer over at you when he no longer hears the familiar brush of graphite against paper.

The cushions shift as he straightens up and rubs his eyes with lazy fists.

“All finished?” he asks, and you nod. “Can I see?”

When you pass him the sketchbook, his eyes rove over the drawings with the attentiveness of a critic, but void of any harshness or critique. It’s more of an assessment, an appreciation. He pulls his lower lip between his teeth. Raises the book to get a better look at the hatching technique you used to shade the first sketch you completed.

It’s a straight-on portrait that he’d faced you for. There’s a sense of ease about his gaze. A warmth paired with an underlying pensiveness. He knows he’s being studied but feels more seen than exposed.

Except, Eddie's so much more than you’ll ever be able to confine to a couple sheets of paper. Charming in an awkward way, with one of the kindest hearts you’ve ever known. Loving him is as easy as blinking or breathing. So natural it feels innate. He feels your gaze as he studies the sketches.

When he redirects his attention to you, he offers one of his steady, slow-moving smiles that never fails to make your stomach flutter.

“Always staring at me,” he accuses, too lighthearted to be mistaken for a complaint.

In truth, you observed everyone and everything. But never with the same admiration allotted to Eddie. There were so many layers that you feared you wouldn’t have the time to unravel them all. You’d never wanted to know the inner workings of another person so intimately.

After a lifetime of slipping through the cracks, it sure was nice to be seen in an unadulterated way by you.

“Can’t help it,” you murmur.

Eddie tracks your movements as you grab one of the accent pillows and toss it to the floor at his feet. A second later, you drop down onto it. His breath catches when you place two gentle hands on his knees and spread his legs so you can better settle between them.

"Hope your day's gotten a little better since you’ve been here," you murmur.

Eddie swallows. Sets your sketchbook aside with a jittery hand.

“It has." His voice is thick as anticipation stirs within him. "As soon as I walked through the door.”

You hum as he squirms, hyperaware of your touch as your hands drift along his thighs. His head tips back when you palm him through the fabric of his jeans. Warmth ignites in his cheeks and melts to his torso as his pants tighten in the wake of his arousal. Along the thick column of his throat, his Adam’s apple bobs with another swallow.

It hadn’t even taken much.

His legs fall open wider, like a gate, when you begin to unbuckle his belt. The metal hardware clinks with your movements, breaking the hush between you. You pop the button, drag the zipper down.

“Wanna help me get these off?” A sweet smile plays on your lips as you blink up at him.

Eager, Eddie lifts his hips, and you help him shuck down his pants and underwear. There's a tent in the front of his boxers when you get to them, and he shifts with the new exposure by the time everything pools at his socked feet.

Featherlight, your fingertips ghost toward the apex of his thighs, his milky skin dusted with sparse hair. His muscles twitch at the ticklish sensation, and he braces for the inevitable.

Except your touch flutters past where he aches. Bypasses where he strains toward his stomach. Instead, your hands sweep over his hips. Slip beneath the hem of his shirt to scratch along the low part of his stomach where a thin, dark trail of hair leads down to his need.

His chest deflates on a slow, bated breath. You hide your coy smile in the inside of his thigh in the form of a kiss. Right over the small smiley face inked into his skin. Eddie huffs in flustered amusement.

“This is—”

“One of your favorite tattoos of mine,” he finishes with flushed cheeks.

You grin in feigned surprise. “How’d you know?” You trace your nails back down to his quivering thighs.

His arousal kicks up when you grant him the gentle brush of your fingertips over the rounded fullness that rests heavily between his legs.

“Sweetheart,” he finally sighs, dark eyes molten when they find yours.

“Teddy,” you coo back.

He doesn’t have time to brace when you begin to pepper an alternating line of kisses up his thighs until your lips find the part of him that needs you the most.

His breath hitches. “Baby—“

A pleasured shudder rolls through him as you kiss up the elegant curve of the thick vein along his underside. You follow the path of his need all the way to the rosy tip, where a wet, gleaming pearl beads in a testament to his want. You suckle it away. Savor it.

Eddie's eyes flutter shut, body taut as you spit over him and wrap a secure hand around his base. The slick heat of your palm makes his hips stutter as you begin to pull upward in a steady tug. At the top, you circle your thumb around the mushroom tip. You dedicate another swipe of your thumb to a slow trace along his slit.

Eddie is warm and rigid in your hold, beautifully at your mercy, and he knows it. Doesn't mind it. The full hum in his throat unravels into a low, shameless moan when his lips part.

“Yeah, baby?” you meet his gaze and hold it. Heat pools between your legs. “You feelin’ good?”

Eddie reaches out to stroke his thumb across your cheek. “Yeah,” he rasps. “Please don’t stop.”

You wouldn’t dream of it.

As you continue your languid strokes, you mouth at his inner thighs. Kisses, nibbles, licks. He’s so wound up that all of it gets to him. Pleasure tugs low in his gut with a radiance he can feel in his fingertips, his toes.

With a practiced gentleness, your free hand lowers to massage the velvet weight of him that you’ve neglected. A rugged sound escapes him as he writhes. Even more so when you move to lap him again, this time taking him halfway and working what's left over with your hand.

You pull away to trace your lips along his shaft, mindful of every inch and the tell-tale shudder that startles through him. You peer up through your lashes to find desperation etched across his features.

He cups your cheek to get you to pause. “C’mere, sweetheart,” he insists. "Wanna feel you—lemme feel you.”

You clench around nothing as he encourages you upwards.

After you shuffle to your feet, you push your lounge shorts down, followed by your panties. Eddie strokes himself, gaze heavy-lidded as he watches.

No sooner do you move forward to straddle his waist, on your knees with your hands braced on his shoulders. His hands find your hips, but one drifts lower in a curious glide between your parted legs. He graces through your slick folds, then brushes his thumb over your swollen bundle of nerves. He’s gauging if you’re ready for him, but you nearly crumble forward at his thoughtful touch.

“So sensitive,” he notes lightly. A flicker of amusement dances in his eyes as they find yours.

“Because of you.” You pout as you reach down and align him at your entrance.

He catches at your slick warmth and whispers a string of curses. It shouldn’t already be this good. You shouldn’t already be this ready. But both things are true because the two of you have somehow stumbled into your own little perfect world. Both his hands find your hips again as you ease yourself down to welcome him in. Inch by slow inch, every vein and ridge.

You don’t realize you’re whining until you’ve sunken to accommodate all of him. Eddie runs a soothing hand up your back as you lean forward into his chest in an encompassing haze of fullness. Already, he’s touching that devastating part of you that’s so thoughtfully tucked away. He’s the only one who’s been able to reach it. To find it as if the path had been carved for him alone. It’s a homecoming in its own right.

“You feel so good,” he sighs the news like it's hot off the press. Like the words can't make it out of his mouth any sooner.

For a brief moment, stillness prevails as you adjust around him. You tuck your nose into his hair, where the subtle scent of his sweet, herbal shampoo lingers. Instead of canting his hips upwards like he so desperately wants to, he lets you have the moment. Presses a kiss to the bulb of your exposed shoulder, then allows his hands to find the hem of your tank top. You move to pull it over your head. He does the same with his own shirt, biting back a groan as you shift over top of him.

Your nipples pebble in the cool air, even more so when he cups your chest and circles them with his thumbs. The sensation throws you into a shiver that jumpstarts a roll of your hips. Eddie’s fingers return to your waist, a silent encouragement.

Before long, you leverage the bend at your knees to lift off him, then lower yourself back down. A rhythm soon forms, Eddie’s hips rise to meet yours. His thighs quake as a strangled sound of relief spills past his lips.

A whimper escapes you as an invisible string pulls you forward to dot a few languid kisses across the apple of his cheek as you continue to ride him.

“Oh—shit,” he exhales shakily. “You’re perfect, sweetheart.” He sounds panicked and awed all the same.

All you can do is hum at his words. Every time you lower onto him, it feels like he manages to reach a new depth that makes you want to crawl away. Yet your hands find his tattooed chest for the sole purpose of feeling more of him, his warm, dewed skin. A shiver shakes him when the tip of your nail grazes over one of his nipples. Spurred on, you pinch the peaked flesh next, which earns you a particularly hard thrust as he groans. A jolt of electricity rushes straight between his legs with the threat of being his undoing.

“You’re gonna make me come, angel.” The shameless, exasperated way he says it makes you clench around him.

You lower a hand to rub tight, purposeful circles over the tender bud between your legs, the pleasure sharper in the wake of his words.

“I want you to come,” you attempt to keep your voice steady as you lilt. “Want you to fill me up. Want all of you.”

Eddie groans and sags back into the cushions in an air of disbelief. Somehow you’re real. Somehow you chose him. And you’d never led him to believe that things should be any other way.

You lean forward in pursuit of him to kiss his throat, then up along his jaw until you’ve arrived at his bitten lips. The kiss carries the neediness of being on the edge.

“Always gonna want you,” you whisper heavily against his mouth.

Eddie whimpers. “You have me.” His thighs tense beneath you as he teeters on the brink. This time, when his hand finds your waist, it’s to ground himself in the intoxicating rock of your hips.

You kiss him one last time, saliva slinking between you, before you touch your dewy forehead to his.

“Come with me,” you frantically encourage. “Eddie, please—”

The broken sound that punches out of him sends you into the thralls of a reckless release. It’s swift and forceful like a lightning bolt zipping from the sky. Your walls flutter around him as pleasure courses in every direction. Eddie has no choice but to let go. He jolts beneath you like stricken earth. His stomach clenches in time with each pulsing wave of release.

Eddie’s neck becomes your hiding place as aftershocks ripple through you both. Your lips begin to press more deliberate kisses to the space where his neck and shoulder join. Beneath you, he sits like putty and softens within the warmth of you. He’s attuned to every small shift you make. You’re not quite ready to relinquish the fullness.

A steady, clammy hand glides up your back and settles at the nape of your neck. When you sit up to meet his tired, satisfied gaze, you're struck by a surge of fondness. Of love. If you could erase his bad days, keep them from ever touching him, you would. But you can’t. They’ll come, for both of you, whether you like it or not.

Still, you had this. Each other. That’s enough to make life a little sweeter, a little kinder. Even on the days that are anything but.

Eddie’s lashes flutter when you run a gentle finger down his nose. “You okay?” you ask.

He shifts beneath you, wincing at his forgotten sensitivity. A small smile pulls at his lips as he finally nods at your question, contentment clear in his eyes.

“Promise?” you ask.

“I promise, sweetheart.”

He offers his pinkie as a seal of truth.

Thank you so much for reading! All likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated. I promise I see them all!

MORE EDDIE

ALL MASTERLISTS

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson smut #eddie x reader smut #stranger things 4 #joseph quinn

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just1cefor4ll · 1 month ago

Text

Doomsday

Seok-woo x fem!reader warning. swearing, not proof read, no happy ending

A/N. rewatched train to busan a few days ago and I just thought of this and wanted to write it out!

You had worked for Seok-woo for as long as you could remember. You were probably there even before he was blessed with his beautiful little girl, Su-an. She had a way of melting your heart effortlessly, much like her father had managed to do over the years, though you'd never admit it. Not out loud, at least.

It was a shameful thing to feel. You, a grown, intelligent, and self-sufficient person, were in love with a man who has a wife. Or, well... had a wife until just a few months ago.

You'd seen how the divorce affected him, but it was Su-an who suffered the most. Her bright, contagious smile had dimmed, replaced by a sadness far too heavy for a child to carry. You tried your best to bring it back whenever she came to the office with her dad on the less hectic days. Whether it was through little jokes, snacks, or just letting her draw all over the unused papers and documents you were sure you’d never need.

Seok-woo noticed, of course. He always did. "You’re too good to us," he'd said more than once, half-smiling in that soft way that made your chest tighten.

Today was one of those days when Su-an had tagged along. She was sitting quietly in your office, flipping through the stack of magazines you kept on the coffee table for guests. Her small hands delicately turned the pages, her big eyes wide with fascination. "A little birdie told me it’s someone’s special day today," you teased with a playful smirk, pulling open your desk drawer to retrieve the small, neatly wrapped gift you had tucked away a week ago.

The girl looked up at you, curious, setting the magazine aside as you extended the gift toward her. Her wide eyes sparkled with surprise and excitement. Just as she reached for it, the door opened. “Morning,” you greeted automatically, your tone warm as Seok-woo stepped inside. His expression was a mix of relief and mild irritation, likely from rushing to drop off an urgent client file before picking Su-an up. “Morning, [Name]. I hope she wasn’t too much trouble,” he said, his voice carrying that clipped efficiency you’d come to know.

His gaze shifted to the box in Su-an’s hands, his eyebrows raising slightly. “You got her a gift?” “Of course,” you replied with a small laugh, brushing off the question as though it were nothing. “She’s been a sweetheart, as always. You know I don’t mind having her around. Though…” You glanced at Su-an with a teasing grin. “I’m not sure she’ll like it.”

“I’m sure I’ll love it!” Su-an piped up, her small voice full of determination as she started tugging at the ribbon. You shared a smile with her father as you both watched her carefully unwrap the present, revealing a set of colored pencils and a thick sketchbook.

The reaction was immediate, and a bit expected. “Oh my gosh! It’s perfect!” she exclaimed, holding it up like a treasure. “Thank you so much!” “She’s been doodling on all my reports lately,” Seok-woo muttered under his breath, though there was no real bite in his words. You caught the faint twitch of a smile tugging at his lips. “She’s creative,” you quipped, ignoring the smirk he gave you. “Now she has her own space for it.”

Before Su-an could dive into her new gift, Seok-woo glanced at his watch. “We should get going. Her mother wants her by tonight. Something about her recital.” His tone was carefully neutral, but the slight stiffness in his posture was hard to miss.

Su-an’s excitement visibly faded. She clutched the sketchbook close to her chest but didn’t argue. The silence was heavy, but you stepped in, as you always did. “Su-an,” you said softly, crouching to her level, “don’t forget to fill at least one page before you leave, okay? I want to see what you create next time.” Her lips quirked into a small smile, and she nodded. “Okay. I promise.”

Seok-woo offered a brief but genuine “Thank you” as they left your office. You watched them go, a pang in your chest you couldn’t quite ignore. You couldn’t help but worry about both of them—how fractured their lives had become and how much weight they carried in silence.

That evening, everything changed.

It started as a last-minute phone call. Seok-woo, his voice uncharacteristically urgent, asked if you could meet them at the station. “Su-an wants to take the early train to Busan,” he explained hurriedly. “Her mom’s there, and I promised I’d get her there by morning but I forgot..” You tuned out the rest of what he said, answering with no hesitation in your response. “Of course. I’ll be there.”

You arrived at the station with a bag of snacks and supplies, something told you they might need it. When you spotted Seok-woo and Su-an on the crowded platform, you waved, smiling as Su-an ran to greet you. “Are you coming with us?” she asked hopefully, clutching your hand. Seok-woo frowned slightly but didn’t protest. “It might actually be good to have you along,” he admitted after a pause. “Just in case.”

You didn’t realize how ominous those words would soon feel.

Everything spiralled into chaos, news of an outbreak causing great panic all over Korea. You were lucky enough to get away from every danger you were faced with, always having Su-an’s safety on your mind before anything else.

In a state of panic and overwhelming emotions you couldn’t quite control, you pulled Seok-woo into a hug, almost seeming desperate as you clung to him like a lost child; however to your surprise, he returned the hug with just as much desperation. Something inside you instantly clicked as you pulled him away from the little group you’ve gathered over the many carts full of infected monsters; a pregnant lady and her husband.. their names being Seong-kyeong and Sang-hwa, at least you think.

Seok-woo looked at you with confusion as you took a deep breath, your hands shaking with nervousness and especially adrenaline. “Seok-woo, I know you absolutely do not want to hear this right now but in case we don’t get o—“ He glared at you and gripped your shoulders. “There is no ‘not getting out of here’ [Name], I will get you and Su-an off this train no matter what.” Your breath was shaky, tears threatening to spill as the days events sink in. “No, Seok-woo listen to me. If we— if I don’t get out, I want to let you know that I love you. You and Su-an. Please stay— stay safe for me okay? And make sure to tell Su-an to kill that recital.” You say between sobs, Seok-woo already pulling you into a tight embrace, shushing you. “I’ll get us out.” was the only thing he said before he went back to his daughter who was patiently waiting for you all to make a move.

You felt your heart ache as your words and confession was left unheard; the three simple words slipping from your tongue and left unnoticed by the man who has had your heart in a headlock for what seemed like all eternity, but of course, love could wait— survival can’t.

The silence in the next car was suffocating. Seong-kyeong sat in a corner, her face buried in her hands as she quietly sobbed. Su-an clung to you, her small hands gripping your sleeve as if she found your embrace as some sort of escape from this absolute nightmare. Seok-woo stood near the window, staring out at the chaos with a blank expression.

But you couldn’t focus on him. Your own thoughts were spiraling. The burn in your side was impossible to ignore now. At first, you thought it was just exhaustion, maybe a bruise from the earlier bumping into seats and doors—but when you finally glanced down, your blood ran cold.

The tear in your shirt revealed jagged teeth marks. Red blossomed around the wound, dark and unmistakable. You’d been bitten. Your breath hitched, your chest tightening as you quickly covered the mark. You looked around, panic rising, but no one had noticed yet. Not Seok-woo, not Su-an.

“[Name]?” Su-an’s soft voice pulled you back. She was staring up at you with wide, tear-filled eyes. “You’re shaking. Are you okay?” You forced a smile, kneeling to her level. “I’m fine, sweetheart,” you lied, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Just tired, that’s all.”

Seok-woo turned at her voice, his gaze narrowing as he studied you. You could tell he sensed something was wrong, but before he could speak, the train lurched violently, sending everyone stumbling. You held Su-an’s head close to your chest, trying your best to shield her as the train started to slow down.

“Attention please. Due to blockage on our track we’ve stopped at East Daegu station. We either wait for the rescue team or go to Busan by a different train. I’ll go and find a working train, if you’re alive.. please transfer safely. Godspeed.”

That was all you heard from the train operator before it went silent; only the awful sound of hissing and gurgling coming from the other cars. Your head felt heavy, and with every step you took your legs started getting heavier and heavier, sweat dripping down your neck. Everyone managed to get out, however you stopped in your tracks as you felt a sharp pain shoot through your side and body. “[Name]..” Su-an called out with worry as she stepped back into the car even after your protests. “[Name] come on, we need to go to the east track like they told us. We can’t loose time.” Seok-woo said, his tone rough yet laced with worry. You smiled with tears streaming down your face, your hands shakily taking off your ring that you got yourself not long after your first ever pay check at the company.

“I think this is my stop, yeah?” You hiccupped, caressing the little girls cheek with nothing but love. “Hold onto this for me yeah?” You placed the ring into her smaller hands, closing her palm and kissing it gently. You turned your gaze to Seok-woo who looked terrified, kneeling next to you and shoving your hand that was clutching your side away, revealing those disgusting teeth marks. “Shit. No, no… no. [Name] you— Why didn’t you say anything? I told you to stay close to me, why, why didn’t you—“ You put a finger against his lips, smiling. “Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere. I’m just going on a little trip, okay? Promise me you’ll get to Busan safely. That you will go to that recital and that you—“ You shook violently, a painful groan echoing through the car. “Seok-woo. I love you, I love you and Su-an so much.” You smiled weekly before backing away from them, stumbling towards an empty cart which you then closed.

Su-an pressed her hand against the class, screaming your name with tears flowing down her face, while all you could do while your mind was still somewhat conscious was look at her, pressing your forehead against the glass. “I love you Su-an.”

That was the last words they heard before they rushed out the car and your mind got twisted into a flesh eating monster.

— 3 years later

A memorial was held for all the people who were lost during the breakout, bodies never being collected; only burned to get rid of every trace those events had left. The memorial was held in Busan on the Haeundae beach where thousands gathered to try and put their resting loved ones to peace.

"We’ve come here to remember those we’ve lost and honor the lives they lived. Though some of us come here to remember, some might want nothing more than to forget. The world has changed, and the scars left by all we’ve suffered remain, but we gather in the hope that together, we can begin to heal.

Let us find strength in their memory and courage in one another as we face what lies ahead, carrying their legacy forward in the world we rebuild."

A roar of cheers and applause filled the area as everyone spread across the beach, lanterns in hand, ready to release them into the sky. Each glowing light was a symbol—a guide for lost souls to find their way to a better, pain-free afterlife.

Su-an clutched her father’s hand tightly. The scar left on her young heart that day was still fresh, though it was slowly healing with time. Seok-woo, however, had never truly moved on from your loss. Your office remained untouched, never given to anyone else, despite countless suggestions from others after his company started up again. It was your place, and no one else’s. Su-an still visited occasionally, sitting there to draw and talk to you—or perhaps to herself.

“Hold this for me, please,” Seok-woo said gently, handing the lantern to his daughter. He lit it carefully, just as many others around them were doing, their lanterns already rising into the dark sky. Together, they held the lantern—Su-an on one side and Seok-woo on the other. With a nod of silent agreement, they released it, watching as it drifted upward to join the hundreds of others.

Seok-woo knelt down beside his daughter, pulling her into his side as she sobbed against his shoulder. He rubbed his hands up and down her arm, trying to comfort her, though his own heart ached just as much. A small silver chain was around his neck, a ring on it like a sort of charm; the same ring you always wore until that day. He couldn’t deny the weight of his regrets. The regret of not saying goodbye. The regret of not saving you. The regret of failing to protect you.

But worst of all…

That he never said I love you back.

DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE OR COPY ANY OF MY WRITING TO OTHER PLATFORMS

I DON’T CONSENT FOR MY WRITING TO BE USED TO TRAIN AI 🚫

#ᯓ★ urfavlarry #seok woo x reader #train to busan #train to busan seok woo #train to busan x reader #train to busan seok woo x reader #seok woo #gong yoo #gong yoo x reader

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rosenclaws · 5 months ago

Note

Hi! 👋

I saw your requests were open and I was wondering if I could submit a request?

The reader is a shy artist who is a friend of Wades. She carries a sketchbook with her everywhere to sketch new pieces, but she doesn't show her work to people unless it's to Wade.

She and Worst!Logan become friends and slowly develop feelings for one another, but they won't say anything to each other because they think that the other wouldn't want them. Until Worst!Logan finds her sketchbook by accident and finds the book is filled with sketches of him. Worst!Logan confronts her about it, but she's a stuttering mess, and they end up confessing to each other. And please make it extra fluffy. Maybe throw in a kiss or a makeout session. Your choice lol.

Thank you and have a good day! 😊

Hidden Feelings and Hidden Sketches || Worst!Logan Howlett x Reader

warnings: drinking, swearing, wade making suggestive comments, make out sesh towards the end, reader gets drunk and logan helps her out. Logan also calls the reader sketch. It got kinda suggestive at the end I apologize sldfjka

a/n: Hi!! This idea is adorable omg I love it, I hope it was fluffy enough for you I have to admit I'm not great at writing pure fluff. I also hope wade is funny because I am not funny so its hard to write his dialogue sometimes. I also altered the plot a little so i hope its okay

You never quite understood how you and Wade became friends. He was possibly the biggest extrovert you have ever met and you were the exact opposite. He saw you once at his favorite diner with your sketchbook and he jumped into the seat across from you.

Yapping on about your art and if you drew often and that he once tried to paint but the class didn't appreciate his art and asking if you'd paint him naked as a present for his girlfriend. Which you declined very quickly.

He wouldn't leave you alone, talking and asking you all sorts of things. You getting a few words in and him covering the other 98% of the conversation. He left with the promise of seeing you again and disappeared before you could say anything else.

It was an odd experience that's for sure but you liked Wade. Sure enough he kept coming back and a friendship had blossomed. He invited you over to dinner multiple times but you always declined, choosing to meet at the diner instead.

Slowly he got you out of your shell around him. Cracking jokes and sometimes putting him in his place when he went a little too far. You showed him your sketchbook after a while and he gushed over your drawings. Begging you to draw him at his best angles and you would sometimes give in.

When he disappeared for a while you got worried, that is until he showed up with a new dog and a very handsome new friend. You couldn't take your eyes off of him. Wade spotted you and waved but you didn't even notice.

"I know right, he's like a tall glass of rage filled water." Wade sighs as he sits across from you.

"I uh what?" You hug your sketchbook close to your chest as you rip your eyes away from Wade's new friend.

"Oh don't pretend like you weren't eye fucking him the second he walked in here, not that I blame you." Your eyes widen as you start to stutter. Your face heating up as you stare at the pancakes in front of you instead. A loud grunt catches your attention. You can barely meet his eyes as your brain is too busy being embarrassed by what Wade had said.

"You can sit on my lap angel cakes." Wade pats his leg but gets shoved to the side as his new friend sits down across from you.

"Logan this is my friend, be a good kitty and play nice." Logan rolls his eyes and chooses to ignore Wade. He does look at you though, burning a whole through your skull.

"Hi Logan," You say shyly.

"Hi." A few beats of silence pass until Wade breaks it as usual.

"Well aren't you two the life of the party, if you excuse me I have to go relieve myself." Wade stands up and instead of asking Logan to move, starts to climb over the man.

"What the fuck?!" Logan hisses as he grabs Wades shirt and tosses him to the ground. You can't help the laugh that escapes your mouth as your friend flops to the ground.

"So rude." Wade shakes his head and heads off to the bathroom. Silence falls once again as you awkwardly push around the pancakes on your plate.

"What's that?" Logan asks, nodding towards your sketchbook. You grab your book and shove it into your bag.

"Nothing! It's uh, just a sketchbook it's nothing don't worry about it." Logan raises an eyebrow as you panic in front of him.

As if you couldn't feel more embarrassed. You debate on waiting for wade or just leaving to save yourself but Logan makes the choice for you.

"You don't have to stay, not holding you hostage." He sips his coffee as you let out a shaky laugh.

"Not much of a talker." You play with your fork as you look up at Logan. He's much more handsome up close.

"Neither am I." He offers a small half smile and you return it. He's still incredibly intimidating but maybe you can stick it out a little longer. Logan's food comes and the two of you eat in a comfortable silence and when you're done you work up the courage if he'll be here tomorrow. He holds the door open for you as you step outside.

You clutch tightly onto the strap of your bag as you wait for his answer. He lights a cigar and you try and suppress your smile when he says he will be. As you part ways you realize that Wade never did come back from the bathroom.

That sneaky bastard.

-on

The diner uh, meetings as you called them, with Logan were amazing. His grumpy exterior was hard to crack but eventually the two of you started to become friends. Being with Logan started to become your favorite parts of the week. He was more than the tough guy persona he put on. What surprised you the most is that he seemed interested in you too. Well you know as friends.

Logan could appreciate someone who liked the quiet. He never pushed you out of your comfort zone, never made you feel uncomfortable. He was just Logan. Call it what you want but it was only a matter of time before you fell head over heels for that man. Not that you'd ever tell him.

How could you?

He's a superhero. He's gorgeous and grumpy and funny and so much more. All you do is draw silly pictures. So for now you settle on friends. Even if he makes your stomach turn with ever smile. Even if his laugh is the best thing you've ever heard. Friends. That's good enough for now.

"Wade Wilson I am going to kill you!" You say angrily.

He had texted you asking you to meet him for coffee and you had agreed solely because you never got the chance to scold him for his little dine and dash.

"Leaving me alone with a stranger!" You slap his hand as he tries to reach for your pastry.

"Ow! That was so five months ago! Anyways I was just trying to help. You know, relieve the sexual tension." You gasp as he makes a very lewd gesture with his hands.

"Besides, you and Logi bear are spending a lot of time together for just being friends huh Boo-Boo." Before you can stop him he reaches for your sketchbook. Keeping it just out of reach as he flips through the pages.

"Give it back!" You plead as you reach across the table.

"Oh. My. God. How come you never draw me this sexy?" He shows you the pages and you fall back into your seat in defeat.

You know what's in there and now Wade does too. Pages and pages of sketches of Logan. You feel like a stalker. It's not your fault! Ever since you met him he's all you can think about. All you can draw.

"Please give it back." You beg but he refuses.

"You'll get it back after you admit to Logan how you feel."

"What!" Your jaw drops as you make another lunge for your book.

"I am a very impatient man and I'm not about to wait another thousand words for the two of you to fuck." He stands up and tucks the book down his pants.

"Ew really?" You groan as you let your face fall into your hands.

"I'm having a get together and you're invited. Logan will be there it's the perfect opportunity." You feel like throwing up at the idea of talking to Logan about any of this.

Maybe you could just steal it back tonight. Or maybe you could never show your face to anyone ever again. Yah the second option sounds better. If only it was that simple. You waited for many anxiety filled hours, the only thing on your mind is getting your damn book back. You knock on the door and it swings open with Wade standing there, a stupid smile on his face.

"Honey badger at 4 o'clock." He hands you a drink and pushes you right towards him. You shoo him away, taking a deep breath and head towards Logan.

"Hi Logan," You say nervously.

"Didn't think these were really your thing." He says with a smile. You laugh nervously and nod your head.

"Yeah well...I thought he'd finally stop asking if I came to one of these things." You joke. Logan snorts and offers you the seat next to him.

"Good luck with that." You sit next to him and swirl around the ice in your drink.

If you're going to tell him then you're going to need a lot of help. Logan's eyes widen as you down your drink in one go, making a face before asking for another one. He's never seen you at a party, let alone drink.

"Why don't you take it easy there sketch."

"It's a party right, why not have a little fun." Logan keeps an eye on you as you drink and drink. As the night passes on he realizes that you might have had a little too much. You can barely get a sentence out by the time the party's over.

"Hi Logii!" Your arms slink around his neck as you stumble into him.

"Come on, let me take you home." He chuckles as he helps you to the door.

"Nooo, I needa get my uh..." You stop and think for a moment.

"My uhhh" Logan hums as he helps you to your apartment. You stay close to Logan as you walk through the night. He's just so warm and he smells so good.

"Got your keys?" You pat around for them and frown. Logan reaches into your bag and pulls them out.

"Right here." He unlocks your door and helps you to your bed. You sigh as your head hits your pillow.

"Oh! my sketchbook. Wade has my sketchbook." You say with a yawn.

"I'll get it back tomorrow, now sleep well." Logan takes off his jacket and lays it on you. He brushes your cheek gently. A soft smile on his face as he leaves you to sleep peacefully.

"Good night."

God your head hurt and the sun was way too bright. You crack your eyes open groan as you head pounds. What were you even thinking last night? You wanted your damn book back that's what you were thinking. A loud knock on your door makes you moan in pain. Getting up you swing open your door only to be met with Logan holding your book. Your face pales as you see a smirk on his face.

"Wade gave me back your book." You reach out for it but he holds it back.

"You're a real good artist sketch." To your horror he opens up your book and flips to one of its pages.

Right in front of you was a side profile sketch of Logan. It had been while you were at the park or something. The sun was hitting him perfectly, he had this content look on his face. You couldn't help but draw it when you got back home. To capture him in a moment where everything felt okay.

"I uh..I.." You don't know what to say. He caught you red handed. Your face is on fire from shame and embarrassment as he finally hands over your book. You can't even look at him.

"I'm sorry." You whisper. Shutting your eyes you hope he gets the hint and leaves, leaves you to wallow in pity.

"Sorry? Why are you sorry." He grabs your chin and tilts your head up.

"I'm flattered sketch. I think you really captured me pretty good." You still can't bring yourself to say anything as you hug your book tightly. You can't tell if he's making fun of you or what.

"This isn't funny Logan." You try and push his hand off you but his grip is strong.

"Not trying to be funny." He brushes his thumb over your lips.

"Logan..." Your eyes flick down to his lips and you know he catches you.

"Say it, come on don't be shy. Not with me." Sighing you dig your fingernails into your book.

"I love you." Your voice is barely above a whisper, eyes squeezing shut. You almost hope he doesn't hear it but of course he does.

He presses his lips to yours roughly. You drop your book in shock as you melt deep into his kiss. Wasting no time in kissing him back, hands wrapping around his neck to pull him closer. He deepens the kiss as his hands fall to your sides. You pull away much to his disappointment, his lips chasing after yours for a moment.

"I love you too." He kisses your jaw lightly making you sigh.

"You know, those drawings were good but I think you got my lips wrong." You furrow you eyebrows, you thought you got his lips pretty good. After all you stared at them long enough to memorize them.

"Yeah sweetheart, think you need a lesson." He walks you back until you hit your couch.

"Get up close and personal." He winks as you bite your lip. How flustered can he make you?

"Then maybe you can show me more of those drawings."

Well, If it would help make your drawings more, accurate. Then who are you to say no?

"Okay." You run your hands along his arm as you look back up at him. Nerves and excitement swirling around your eyes.

"Don't worry sketch, I'm a pretty good teacher."

#logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #wolverine #worst!logan howlett

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melancholyhigh · 2 years ago

Text

ARTWORK

ft. leon x artist!reader

synopsis. you're an artist, and leon's your muse.

content. 1.5k words. fluff, smut. nude painting, leon's pov, needy leon, praise kink, masturbation, handjob.

note. this was j supposed to be fluff but i got ahead of myself.

masterlist. i love your guy's feedback :3

“Paint me like one of your French girls.”

You laugh at Leon’s statement. He’s perched on the small, green couch in your home art studio, wearing nothing but his pink, fluffy robe as you prepare your oil paints.

“You’re my first French girl, Leon.”

–-

You had suggested painting him nude while you were both in bed, lazing around. You’re in each other’s hold, Leon’s arms around your waist and face on your chest when he asks about any new projects you had in mind.

He loves hearing about what art piece you were doing or planned to do. It was how you expressed yourself, whether there was a deeper meaning or none at all. He found it beautiful. Every work you do it had a bit of your personality in it. He could tell your work from thousands by the intricate details they carry.

When you told Leon you wanted to paint him, he wasn’t too surprised. You mentioned he was your favourite thing to draw or think of when you had art block. The admission had left him sputtering, his face red as he tried to get his words out.

On the third date, you showed him your sketchbook, pages littered with drawings and portraits of him. Some were quick sketches, while other’s looked like you took time to get every detail of him.

You’re always on my mind, Leon. You had confessed. Was it a little creepy? At that moment, flipping through the drawings of him, the attention to detail they held, he’d say it was romantic.

People have always said he was pretty as a picture, yet you’re the only one that makes his heart beat faster and his tummy fill with butterflies when you say he’s the type of gorgeous you’d find in a painting.

“A nude painting,” you specify. It was as if you told Leon he was the object of your affection for the first time again. His head buries into your chest, trying to hide his flushed face. You smile at his sudden bashfulness.

“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before, baby.” You run your fingers through his soft hair. “I want to try something new, but it’s okay. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“‘S fine, angel. But can’t you use a picture?”

“Where’s the fun in that, pretty boy.”

He groans, muffled by your shirt, and you giggle.

He loves to please you — in more ways than one — and nothing compares to the smile that graces your face, so he agrees. It’s not like Leon’s uncomfortable with you looking at him bare and vulnerable. There were other problems he was worried would interrupt your craftwork.

–-

Leon leans back into the couch, doing just as you instructed. His bare back hits the soft cushioning, and it’s surprisingly comfortable.

His robe is off, on the floor next to your easel. He rests his chin on his hand, supported on the arm of the couch.

He’s nervous. You said it’s nothing you haven’t seen before, but this almost feels more intimate than being intertwined with you in bed.

Maybe it’s the gaze you hold when you’re analysing him, grasping the compositions and layering basic shapes onto the canvas.

He can’t help but think of when you told him he’s your favourite canvas to mark up. Sucking the reddish marks into his skin which turn the prettiest shade of purple, as you like to put it. Or when you said the colour on his cheek was your favourite shade of pink.

You always did like to rile him up, muttering the filthiest things to him in the most mundane setting, just like right now.

“Spread your legs wider, Leon.” You mumble in a casual tone as if you don’t know the implications of your own words. You’re so engrossed with getting your work right you probably don’t.

It’s so fucking sexy seeing you in your element. Your brows pinched together, and your face serious with concentration.

He obediently listens to you, parting his legs wide, and the problem he wishes wouldn’t happen is currently hardening between his thighs. You don’t notice, mixing paints to ensure it's the correct shade.

You’re probably 30 minutes into painting, and he’s already hard. You said you’d take a while to finish, and he could tap out whenever he wants to, but he doesn’t want to disappoint.

Finally, you’re looking up from the canvas and towards Leon. Your brows quirked up in surprise when trying to examine his features, studying the curve of his nose and the sharpness of his jawline to imitate on the canvas. His face is pink, the shade you know and adore so much.

Your eyes trail down his body, his dick fully erect, slapping against his stomach. Your gaze is on his face again with a smirk on your lips.

He knows, you know, he’s rock-hard simply from the glances you take at him and the words you mutter. His lashes flutter, and he moves his hand to cover his face while the other is shamefully obscuring his cock.

“Be a good boy, and don’t move, Leon. I want to make sure everything looks good.” You say, and he thinks you aren’t going to acknowledge his 7-inch problem.

“Oh, and make sure your pretty dick is hard for me, okay, baby?” You go back to your painting, trying to hide your smug expression.

His adam’s apple bobs as he swallows his nerves, but he relents, going into position, not before giving his cock a firm squeeze.

“Don’t cum too, okay? I want to be the one making you cry.”

A few hours pass, and Leon is on the verge of tears. He listened to what you said, only providing himself with enough stimulation to keep his cock hard but not enough to tip him over the edge into bliss.

Precum leaks from the head down to the shaft. His dick is red and spent. He wants nothing more than for you to stop painting and make him cum.

“I’m almost done. You’ve been such a good boy for me, baby.”

Your words are almost enough to make him spill his cum over the expensive fabric of your eccentric couch.

You’re adding the finishing touches to the painting with each stroke, making sure you get the placement of each mole or freckle correct and each vein of his cock following to the tip right.

You swear he belongs in a museum. No art can replicate how beautiful he truly is.

“I’m done.” You sigh, moving to get up to rid your skin of paint.

After rinsing yourself off the paint, you make your way to Leon. You get comfortable in a seat on the couch right next to him. He’s breathing heavily in anticipation, looking up at you through his long lashes. Pretty, pink lips parted as pretty gasps left him.

You cup his face, pressing your lips to his. The kiss is soft as you move your lips slowly in unison. He breathes out your name when you pull away. One of your hands moves to his throat, softly squeezing. Leon whimpers, his hands moving to hold your waist.

“Good job, baby. You didn’t cum once. I know it hurts, but I'm going to make you feel better,” you whisper, softly kissing his flushed forehead.

Your hand moves to his pulsing cock, and gives it a soft squeeze, relishing the whine Leon lets out. Your touch sends goosebumps along his skin, and he plants his head into the crook of your neck.

His hips eagerly buck into your hold. He’s practically sobbing into your neck, his soft hair tickling the underside of your jaw. You rest your chin on top of his head, smelling the fragrance of his shampoo.

You thumb the slit on the tip of his cock, using his precum as a lubricant to start moving your hand back and forth on his shaft.

You start at a slow pace. You don’t want Leon cumming quickly, wanting to enjoy every cry and whimper.

The soft shlick noise of you jerking Leon’s cock fills the room with his desperate cries. He pulls back away from the crook of your neck, tears flowing down his blushing face.

“Please, please, please, g– go faster, angel. I’ve been such a good boy for you. Let me cum, please.” He pleads, looking at you with those puppy dog eyes. His hips rutted frantically into your palm. How could you deny your boy?

“Okay, pretty baby. Cum for me.” You say softly, picking up the pace of jerking him off.

He whimpers loudly, thighs quivering lightly as his orgasm crashes and hot spurts of his cum spill onto your hand. He’s panting, dazed with lust and staring at you with what seems like hearts in his eyes.

“T- thank you, thank you, s’much.” Leon gasps like a broken record, and you think he’s fucked himself dumb with your hand.

You peck his lips, effectively shutting him up.

“Let’s get you cleaned up so I can show you my favourite artwork yet.”

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #re4 remake #resident evil 4 #leon kennedy x you #leon s. kennedy #leon kennedy smut #resident evil 4 remake #resident evil #leon kennedy resident evil #resident evil smut #reader insert #smut #re4 smut #re4 #✩‧₊˚ fics

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adastra121 · 2 months ago

Text

I thought of something. So we know that Vere has a longer lifespan than the average human, right?

A snapshot several decades later — the larger part of a century, really — Vere looks pretty much the same as he did the day you met. Maybe he’s wearing his hair differently nowadays, faint crow’s feet and smile lines finally beginning to show on his face but aside from that, he is mostly unchanged in appearance. He walks through the halls of a place he’s called home for…a long time now. There’s the broken lute neither of you ever got around to throwing out from when you first tried your hand at replicating the music of his favourite Hightown lutist. Cupboards and drawers filled with his art supplies, your gloves, rolls of spare linen he’s swiped from the Lowtown clinic ages ago. The walls are adorned with his best drawings — many of them are safely kept in his sketchbooks, but there are many he’s proud enough to display in the open. Several of them are portraits of you over the years. He can’t find it in himself to take them down yet. There are so many other memories, relics of the love the two of you have shared over the years strewn throughout your home.

He makes his way to the kitchen where his fruit oolong tea has been cooling on the counter and begins to whip up a new monstrosity of a meal. His neck and chest are bare from the collar and harness that has been forcibly imposed onto him a century ago. Actually, only one thing adorns his neck now — a necklace fashioned from the ribbon in your handfasting ceremony. You made it into a necklace for your first anniversary together. He hasn’t taken it off all this time. Still fiddles with it when deep in thought, a habit that carried over from his years in chains.

Sometimes he finds it deeply unjust that he’s lived more years in chains than he’s lived with you — his anger and bloodlust briefly soothed with the knowledge that eventually…the years he’s spent in hell will be surpassed by the number of years he’s spent loving you.

#that’s the fate of things though isn’t it?#it’s somewhat comforting #that you will always be loved for longer than you’ve lived #also yeah in this imagined scenario it occurs after mc has died #but after living a full and wonderful life with Vere!#anyway this spawned from my desire to see his collar and chain replaced with something that means he is loved #like an engagement necklace #touchstarved #touchstarved game #touchstarved vere #vere x reader #vere x mc #touchstarved headcanons #my ramblings #I’m always so emo about Vere in particular #something about him…aaaaahhhhh!#i love him

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aventurineswife · 2 months ago

Note

Thanks for answering my ask about comedic nudity!

So I ended up forgetting about the og idea I wanted to send because I didn’t write it down. 🙂‍↕️

But I do have another idea that involves Reader being a freak for art! If you’ve ever played (or watched someone play) Persona 5, Reader is a little bit like Yusuke, they love to draw and paint and all that fun stuff. They’re also a bit of a simp and have pages in their sketchbooks dedicated to drawing people they fancy.

So, not really nudity here, but one day while drinking, Reader gets so drunk off of their ass they finally dare to ask the question that’s been gnawing at the back of their mind:

“Hey, [muse]…D’ya wanna model naked for me?”

Bonus points if they’re trying to ask it to their muse in question, but they’re so drunk they don’t realize they’re facing someone else entirely.

Like, their muse could be Sunday and they’re trying to ask Sunday to model naked for them, but they’re facing Robin.

It can also be other combos!

Like, Muse:the person Reader is actually facing

So—

Gepard:Serval

Blade:Firefly

Dan Heng:Sushang

Lingsha:Yunli

Jing Yuan:Yanqing

These are just examples off the top of my head but basically pick any one or think of another pair yourself and make it as chaotic as you possible can. 🤣

If you make the title “Draw Me Like One of Your French Girls” istg—

Portraits of Desire

Tags: Sunday x Reader x Robin, Aventurine x Reader x Topaz, Artist!Reader, Fluff and Humor, Alcohol-Induced Shenanigans, Artistic Obsession, Mild Suggestive Themes, Confessions in Chaos, Playful Banter.

Warnings: Alcohol consumption and intoxication, Light innuendo, Embarrassing humorous situations.

A/N: sadly i already named a previous fic that, so I can't name this one the same title 😕💔

(Credits to @kakyoriya on Twitter/X)

The Charmony Festival's afterparty had always been a lively affair, filled with music, laughter, and the clinking of glasses. You, an artist swept into the chaos of Penacony’s surreal world, found yourself seated at a circular table with Sunday and Robin. Despite your initial plans to observe the Halovian pair discreetly, the generous flow of Halovian wine had turned those plans into a swirling mess.

Your sketchbook lay open on the table, pages flipping as a gust of laughter erupted around you. The pages showcased the delicate strokes of your pencil—portraits of Sunday, Robin, and various festival moments. They were all expertly rendered, but your fascination with Sunday was painfully obvious. His eyes seemed to pierce through the pages, and even his halo was meticulously detailed.

Robin chuckled softly, her hair shimmering under the festival lights. “You’ve truly captured his essence.” she remarked, pointing at one of your sketches.

You hiccupped, the wine adding a rosy hue to your cheeks. “Well, it’s ‘cause he’s so damn… inspiring!” you slurred.

Sunday, ever dignified, raised a brow but allowed a faint smile to curl his lips. “I see. I suppose I should thank you for the flattery.”

The room swayed as you turned, your intoxicated mind suddenly consumed by a thought you’d never dared voice. You reached out, grabbing Sunday’s gloved hand—or at least you thought it was Sunday’s.

“Hey… hey, you!” you stammered, squinting up at Robin instead. She tilted her head, bemused.

“Yes?” Robin replied, her voice lilting like a melody.

“I’ve been… thinking,” you began, leaning closer to her. “You’re… perfect. Your symmetry, your aura—it’s breathtaking!”

Robin’s brows knitted in surprise, her cheeks flushing faintly. Sunday, watching from across the table, cleared his throat. “They mean to ask me, Robin. I’ve noticed their fixation.”

But you, oblivious and unbothered, barreled forward. “Model for me. Naked. Just once!”

Robin sputtered, her elegance momentarily faltering. “I beg your pardon?”

Sunday, his eyes narrowing slightly, stepped in to steady you. “I believe you’re mistaking your audience.” he said, his tone carrying both humor and restraint.

You blinked, your intoxicated brain struggling to process the situation. Then, your gaze shifted, landing on Sunday’s halo. “Oh, right!” you exclaimed, jabbing a finger in his direction. “You! I meant you!”

Robin burst into laughter, her melodic voice echoing through the room. “Oh, this is priceless.”

Sunday, maintaining his composure, leaned down to meet your gaze. “While I appreciate your artistic passion,” he said smoothly, “I fear your request might be better suited for sober conversation.”

The IPC gala was a hub of high-stakes networking, dazzling lights, and endless champagne. You, an artist with an eye for detail, found yourself amidst the extravagance, clutching your sketchbook like a lifeline. Aventurine and Topaz had invited you along, each promising you’d find inspiration among the elite.

You had taken them at their word, sketching furiously as your muses moved through the crowd. Aventurine, with his flamboyant overcoat and peacock feather earring, exuded charisma that demanded attention. Topaz, on the other hand, carried herself with a composed confidence, her hair catching the gala’s light.

Hours later, you were drunk. Not tipsy, not buzzed—drunk. Your sketchbook was open to a page filled with Aventurine’s smirk and Topaz’s sharp gaze. The champagne had loosened your inhibitions, and you found yourself staring at Aventurine’s eyes.

“You’re like… a painting.” you slurred, pointing at him.

Aventurine, ever the gambler, leaned forward with an amused grin. “Am I now? Flatter me more.”

Topaz rolled her eyes, sipping her wine. “They’re drunk. Don’t encourage them.”

But you were already gesturing wildly. “I gotta ask. It’s important. Life-changing, even!” You turned—or at least thought you turned—to Aventurine, but your gaze locked on Topaz instead.

“Will you model naked for me?” you blurted.

Topaz choked on her drink, glaring at you with wide eyes. “Excuse me?!”

Aventurine burst into laughter, clapping a hand to his chest. “Oh, this is rich. I think they meant me, darling.”

You blinked, confused, before swiveling toward Aventurine. “Wait, yeah! You! You’re, like… perfection. I need to capture it!”

Topaz shook her head, a small smirk tugging at her lips. “You’re impossible.”

Aventurine leaned closer, tilting your chin up with a gloved finger. “Flattery will get you everywhere,” he purred. “But we’ll discuss terms when you’re sober.”

Topaz snorted. “You’re both ridiculous.”

And in your drunken haze, you could only laugh, thrilled by the chaotic charm of your muses.

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comesatimecomesashadow · 3 months ago

Text

her *ೃ༄

pairing *ೃ༄ carl grimes x gn reader

cw *ೃ༄ teen angst, friends to lovers, canon-typical violence, teen romance, semi-slow burn, fluff

fic type *ೃ༄ one shot (?) | part ii

summary *ೃ༄ in which you fall in love with the freckle-filled, blue eyed boy who wears a sheriff's hat.

note *ೃ༄ this is what i do instead of my three week old homework, enjoy !

masterlist *ೃ༄

Arriving in Alexandria was an odd thing. Here, people tried to build a ‘civilization’, as if the world outside the walls wasn’t gone to shit already. You often ventured outside the walls without anyone knowing — Anyone excluding Enid, of course — because you were afraid of becoming weak. Immersing yourself in Deanna’s delusion would do nothing for your survival, you were sure of it.

When Rick and his group were welcomed inside the walls, you noticed their rough demeanors and the rugged way in which they carried themselves. They were a contrast to the people of Alexandria and because of that, their presence alluded you, even when others were weary of them. But you stayed away. Not because you were scared of them too, but because you’d rather not get close to anyone again. Regardless of what your instincts wanted you to do.

Enid would sometimes hang out with you alone or go with Ron and the others to fill the time that you all now had. You usually just spent the days in the attic of the empty house down the street. You’d heard a lot about the blue eyed boy with the sheriff’s hat from Enid, he seemed kinda awkward to you but you didn’t fault him. It was probably strange going from having to fight walkers 24/7 to now having the time for video games; You remember feeling that way too.

You were no stranger to the crushing weight of loneliness that followed all those who survived. Sometimes, you wonder if you should’ve just let yourself be eaten. But you were afraid you’d be betraying the last thing your dad told you. ‘Live! Fight and Live!’, you remembered his words vividly. You also remembered the screams that came next.

The leaves crunched under your boots as you walked towards your secret hangout.

No one, not even Enid, knew where it was. It was the place in the forest you went to whenever you felt lonely, it was a comfort to you most of the time. There in the secluded spot, you had a box with a broken lock hidden with leaves and sticks, it was full of your scavenged art supplies. Drawing was something you liked to do ever since you were a kid, it was one of the only things the apocalypse hadn’t taken from you.

As you approached your secret hideout, you noticed a familiar boy with the famous sheriff's hat sitting against the log you always sat at. You bit your lip and walked a little faster. ‘What was he doing here?’ You were a little upset at this.

“..How did you find this place?” your words were clear and loud enough so he could hear. You didn’t intend for it to come off as mean as it sounded, but then again maybe that was the best choice. You’d met different groups before coming to Alexandria and people always tended to be selfish people. Even in Alexandria, you noticed how most of the kids your age were selfish, hence why you hid your secret space even from Ron and his group. Why would this guy be any different?

He got up and met your eyes, seeming like a deer caught in headlights. He left your sketchbook on the ground. “I was just- Uh, I was walking around and found this place. Do you.. Hang around here, or..?” You could tell he was nervous and frankly, it felt awkward.

You sat on the ground next to the not-so-hidden box and grabbed the notebook he left on the ground. He opted to sit next to you. “To answer your question, yeah. I hang here by myself- most of the time at least.” You flipped to an empty page and grabbed some of your pens and markers from the chest.

The boy glanced down at your drawing, observing you. Then he began to speak again, less nervous this time. “I don’t think we’ve met before, I’m Carl.”

“...” You kept your eyes on the notebook. Should you be friendly with him? After a few moments of silence you told him your name and could see him slightly smile in the corner of your eye. “..Are you gonna stay here?”

“Do you mind it?” he asked. You shook your head. He seemed harmless for the most part, maybe he wasn’t like Ron and his friends. “Then.. Could I come here sometimes?”

“Why do you wanna?” you asked him, finally meeting his blue eyes. You noticed the freckles on his fair skin and the way his hair fell over his face was kinda funny to you. He was.. Something. Carl looked away from you, contemplating his words.

“Just cause.” He said with a small smile. You laughed a little at his words, sometimes it was hard to forget you were just kids.

“Alright then.”

The next few weeks, your routine began to change.

Normally, you’d wake up some time before the afternoon and get ready for the day. Afterwards, you’d help Olivia with the inventory and keeping track of rations. You’d go out on a run if you were asked to and if you weren't, your time was spent at your secret spot or with Enid.

However, ever since formally meeting Carl. Your secret hangout spot has become a shared secret hangout spot. He drew comic book characters on one of the notebooks in the chest at the spot, brought you art supplies when he came back from runs and even brought some of his own comic books. You noticed the way his facial expressions changed when he was immersed in his comics, the way he did that awkward side smile of his sometimes, you even caught him stealing glances at you sometimes.

But you never addressed it.

Not even when you began to find yourself disappointed when he missed a day at the spot. You had to remind yourself that he was just someone you met, it wasn’t like he belonged to you or anything. It wasn’t like you expected him to be there when you knew he had his own life too.

You told yourself then that you’d try to distance yourself.

Falling for someone, especially in the middle of a damn apocalypse, couldn’t go well. It just couldn’t. But it was hard to distance yourself when he seemed to be everywhere. Whenever you helped Olivia with keeping track of the inventory, he was there with his stupid, dorky smile and innumerous freckles. When you took a usual afternoon walk to clear your head, he waved at you and even joined you with his little sister in tow.

He was everywhere and that made it increasingly harder for you to bury your feelings away.

“What’re you drawing this time?” Carl asked. Your pencil stopped at the sound of his voice. You looked up and smiled involuntarily. For some reason, ever since you met him, you started to smile more often. Maybe he was just that easy to talk to, but you hated it sometimes.

“Walkers.” You gazed back down at your notebook that contained the scribbles and doodles of dismembered walkers and you even drew some of them with funny expressions and speech bubbles. “I know it’s twisted, considering they're the reason the world is ..shit. But I dunno,” you shrugged, wondering what he would think. Carl looked over your notebook, his hair tickling your shoulder.

Then he laughed.

“Is this one giggling? It looks funny,” A smile graced his features and a warm feeling crept into your heart at the sight of it.

“Yeah..!” You giggled and shaded in the drawing with some highlighters.

“When did you get into drawing?”

You shrugged, “I’ve always been into drawing, ever since I was a kid. I really liked comics n’ stuff, so I guess that’s what motivated me.” You found it endearing that he even asked because it meant that he was interested. You have never known what it felt like to have feelings like these, to feel so close to someone, but it was exciting. ..And scary at the same time of course.

It was then that you remembered that you’d forgotten your intentions of distancing yourself.

“Yeah? How come?” He picked up the comic book he had meant to continue reading and flipped to the page that had one of its corners dog-eared.

You put your pencil down and looked up at the sky peeking through the various green leaves blocking it. “It’s an outlet, I guess. Whenever I got lonely I’d just draw and draw till I forgot the loneliness.”

Carl lifted his gaze up to you again. “Do you still feel like that?”

You set your notebook down and hugged your knees closer to your chest before letting out a sigh. “Sometimes. Not as much nowadays though.”

“I’ve felt that way before too, actually. I thought I was the only one.” Carl admitted. He looked away when your eyes met his.

“Yeah?” You asked quietly.

He nodded his hands now flat on the ground at his sides and the comic forgotten on his lap. “I feel like it’s too normal sometimes.” Carl said. You agreed with his statement. “A lot of the people here aren’t prepared t’fight. I think that’s the scariest thing outta everything.”

“Why so?” you drew circles on the dirt.

“If someone, or something, from outside the walls wanted to take this place, they could.” Carl spoke as if it was fact. Maybe he was right. The wind whistled throughout the forest, a signal to return inside the walls now that the sun was also beginning to disappear. You put your notebook and his comic back inside the hidden box and closed it.

“We should get back, your dad’s probably wondering where you are.” You lent him a hand to help him up and he took it. His hand was a little calloused — but warm.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

He got up, but he didn’t let go of your hand.

The day the walkers came in through the walls was the day you returned to reality. You had to admit, being in Alexandria had indeed dulled your fighting skills — but it did not deter you. Plunging your knife into the skull of the walker in front of you, you headed toward the infirmary. Gunshots could be heard which only called in more from the swarm, you had to hurry.

After a sprinting to the infirmary, you met Denise and began to help treat some of the patients that had gotten hurt. Your hands were quick at cleaning wounds and wrapping bandages, you’d picked up a lot of things before coming to Alexandria and you’d made it a habit to learn from Denise as a precaution. Luckily, it was paying off.

..Until Rick brought Carl to the infirmary with a grave injury to his right eye.

Your hands came to a sudden stop and trembled and you couldn't stop staring at him in utter shock of what had been done to him. “What-..”

Denise helped Rick lay Carl down on the patient bed. “Get me the bandages, we need to stop the bleeding,” Denise ordered. Your mind went blank but you moved in a flash, handing her all the materials she needed to help him as if you were on autopilot. You didn’t ask Michonne nor Rick how it happened and you couldn’t either way since Rick decided to take his anger out on the walkers swarming outside.

Your eyes were laser-focused on the numbers reading Carl’s heart rate.

It was then that you realized just how much you cared about the freckled boy with the blue eyes, the sheriff’s hat he never took off and his stupid smile.

..It was then that you realized how far you'd fallen for Carl.

“Is he..” your voice was shaky but Denise cut you off.

“He’s going to live. He will.” Her words were spoken in a strong tone but you didn’t know if she was trying to convince herself o..r you. In the meantime, you busied yourself with the other patients, most of the people huddling up inside the infirmary had left now and were beginning to go join Rick in his fight against the walkers currently swarming the inside of the walls. You couldn’t afford to think about him living or dying when other people were on patient beds fighting for their lives too.

But it was hard to not think about him.

You could only hope he would be alright.

The day seeped into the night sky and soon enough, Rick and the other Alexandrians had succeeded in massacring all the walkers inside the walls. Now, they were focused on making sure the walls would hold up while you still were tending to the patients in the infirmary with Denise. Luckily, some of the patients were recovering from their injuries now and waking up. From what Denise told you, Carl was unconscious but he was stable- He was alive. That’s all that mattered to you.

You wanted to talk to someone, tell someone about all the feelings you were bottling up- but Enid was nowhere to be found. Neither was Ron or the other kids, and you couldn’t tell Denise because you knew how stressed she must have been. You left the infirmary and went outside to take in some air. The woman with the sword.. Michonne, you think her name was; She was outside of the infirmary as well. Carl’s dad, Rick, was there too.

“How is he?” Rick asked, you could hear the anxiousness in his voice.

You tried to give him a smile, “He’s doing better than when you brought him in, thankfully.” A few tears escaped Rick’s eyes but a small smile crept onto his lips. “..There was nothing we could do about his eye. But, ..He’ll live. You can go see him right now, he’s uhm.. He’s unconscious though.” Rick nodded and Michonne seemed relieved, but Rick was the only one who went in. Michonne stayed out on the steps with you.

You sighed and leaned against the wooden railing, your arms crossed and your heart full.

“Are you okay?” Michonne asked you genuinely.

If it were in another time, any other time, you probably would have lied. But as soon as one tear strayed from your eye, a multitude of others seemed to follow. Michonne’s expression softened and she offered a hug, embracing your shaking body racked with emotions you couldn’t name. You didn’t know if you should be relieved, or worried- or both!

“It’ll be okay, [Name].”

You took a shaky breath in, “How..- How do you know that?” You looked up at her, your vision blurry.

She wiped your tears carefully, “Because we’re the ones who live.”

The words she spoke to you that day gave you hope. Luckily for you and his family he woke up a few weeks after the whole ordeal. However, you tried to avoid him as much as you could, like you had done before you met him.

You couldn’t look at him, not because of how he looked..

..but because you knew that the next time you saw him face to face, the dam of feelings you held inside would burst open instantly.

#carl #carl grimes #carl x reader #carl grimes fluff #carl grimes x reader #twd #twd carl #carl twd #jume fics #twd carl fluff #the walking dead #the walking dead carl #carl the walking dead #fluff #angst #teen angst #teen romance

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drewdoa · 2 months ago

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─────────⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺─────────

── .✦ # 𝒚𝒐𝒖 • part 1 ; viktor

── .✦ a/n: hey!! so i decided to mix two of my favorite shows together!!! it’s definitely different from what i would usually write but i think it’s such a cool mix and the thought of viktor being obsessive is like rotting in my brain..i hope you enjoy this and tell me if i should make more!!

── .✦ extra info: no gender mention, obsessive behavior, harmless stalking, might be a bit inaccurate to their canon characters

{ inspiration taken from the show “you” on netflix ! }

viktor has always been the type to stay kept to himself. he doesn’t bother anyone or talk to many people besides jayce and you. rotting away in his lab at almost every opportunity presented.

..almost. he’s got a small hobby he tends to every so often, he doesn’t like to talk about it much since it’s a way for him to “de stress”. you’ve noticed lately he carries a what looks like a sketchbook that’s filled to the pages ends with things he’s been doing. pictures, and stickers and pen scribbled all inside, what else could he be doing? scrapbooking you thought!

one lazy morning though, around the crack of dawn basically, viktor was caught up in that book. going through page after page, admiring his past works. they all look similar. about the same..person?

you watch him carefully from a distance, in the hallway where his lab leads. what is so important about that book? why can’t jayce know about it? why can’t i know about it? are you hiding something crazy from me? do you feel like id judge you? all of these things race through your mind, though you reassure yourself with the fact it could just be something personal and you must respect that.

what are you so infatuated with. finally it’s about time you try and mention it, to test the waters if you will.

⌗˳⳿⤏ “viktor?” your mouth spits out, a bit of a distance between you two.

he’s caught just a bit off guard by your voice, he then relaxes just enough to give you a proper response.

“yes?” his body then turns to you, his chair fitting his body perfectly as he comfortably leans his arm on the armrest.

“i just wanted to check on you since you’ve been here for..a little while again” you take a pause before glancing at his prized possession before back at his face.

“i’ve been caught up with studies and working, im sorry i didn’t warn you beforehand. but you should be here too you know.”

“i’ve noticed you’re a fan of journalism too hm? a little expected though” you say as you step a little closer to him.

“…it’s been something i do on the side, i didn’t think you knew about journaling. you do most of that with jayce and his phone with a drink in your hand”

you freeze at his slick ass comment. as much as you wanna flick him in the forehead for it, you can’t, cause he’s right. you and jayce have been drinking quite a lot lately instead of focusing on the projects in which viktor has done most of your work.

“if i had the right to beat your ass i would’ve.” you reply while folding your arms. you take another glance at viktor’s book and there’s a familiar face in there. it looks hand drawn, a little accurate to..

“if you don’t mind, i’ve got work to finish, some that you should be helping with but there’s no point now..come back later. and bring my “partner”, i’ve got a lot of work for him.” his tall lanky figure rises from the chair as he grabs his cane, walking to the doorway and taking you with him.

“maybe one night i could show you what ive been doing..i think you’d enjoy the cage.”

✮⋆˙ hello!! i hope you liked this post :)) i was planning on making this like my own little series!! do let me know if you’d like a second part or any other requests (my asks are open <3) :D -drew

#arcane x reader #viktor x reader #viktor arcane #viktor x y/n #arcane #arcane fanfic #doa x arcane #viktor

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withleeknow · 1 year ago

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do you ever just think about pining best friend hyunjin?

hyunjin, who treasures his personal space and quality time with himself more than anything, but somehow, he never has a problem with it when you're the one in his bubble.

hyunjin, who can be sharp and witty but gets tongue-tied every time you so much as chuckle at one of his jokes.

hyunjin, who carries two umbrellas with him at all times because he knows you always forget yours, and you get sick easily if you get even a little bit of rain on you.

hyunjin, who can't remember his own address after 1.5 bottle of flavored soju (it's peach, btw) but can perfectly recite your go-to breakfast order from memory, fishing it out of the inebriated depths of his mind like invaluable wisdom. oat milk latte with a drizzle of caramel syrup. almond croissant stuffed with cream cheese and strawberries.

hyunjin, who sometimes forgets to breathe when he sees you wearing one of his sweatshirts.

hyunjin, who absolutely hates it whenever one of his housemates borrows his favorite shampoo. but you? oh, when the thief is you, he suddenly has no qualms at all. maybe he secretly wishes that you'd do it more often. do it whenever you stay over. do it every week. ask him to buy it for you so you can use it every day. if that means that you're walking around smelling like him? well, he certainly isn't opposed to that idea.

hyunjin, who thinks about your mango lip balm a lot more than a best friend should. and your strawberry one. and cherry. maybe the lip balms aren't the issue here.

hyunjin, who thinks he must be on the verge of a damn stroke when you intertwine your fingers with his and call him your boyfriend to ward off unwanted attention in public.

hyunjin, whose sketchbook is filled with drawings that other people would think are just random things he sees in his every day life. blue tote bags. night lights shaped like a toaster. gold bangle bracelets. whale mugs. beige claw clips. lemon cheesecake yogurt cups. in a way, they're right. these are just objects that he sees daily. but only he knows that they're miscellaneous reminders of you. your favorite accessories, favorite silly purchases, favorite desserts. all you. everything is you.

permanent taglist: @onlyycb97wife @starsandrqindrops @borahae-reads @abbiestearsricochet @cutiespaghetti @anthropologykpopmultistan @moonlinos @mjnhoz @caitlyn98s @piercidh34rts @stayceebs97 @linocz @yaorzu-blog @biribarabiribbaem @kayleefriedchicken @extrhotjne @caitxx1 @palindrome969 @todorokiskitten @azuna-sz @meanergreener

#stray kids fic #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #skz fic #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz x you #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin scenarios #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin x you #hwang hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin x you #stray kids #hyunjin #hwang hyunjin #blurbs

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veephoenix · 5 months ago

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until the stars stop shining | noah sebastian

previous part to all that's left, but it can be read as a one shot.

summary: noah and his girl spend an evening by the lake | words: 1.2k | reading time: 5mins

tags & trigger warnings: fluff, fluff, fluff. noah is an illustrator, reader loves baking cookies, mentions of noah having been reader's first, and that's it—they love each other a ton.

This is for the anon that asked for something sweet and fluffy after i posted All That's Left. I hope this does it. It's not actually a standalone work, but a sort of flashback belonging to the same story where All That's Left happens. I have a full plot developed in my head, but I can't tell if I'll ever write it and post it, so here goes this little thing where you get to know a little bit more of those characters and the story.

Thank you for all your constant love and support <3

͢ until the stars stop shining

Noah leaned back in the Muskoka chair, one leg lazily stretched out, balancing his sketchbook on his lap. He was shirtless, only wearing his bathing suit. For over an hour, he had been sketching, savoring the tranquil solitude offered by the lake, the warm caress of the late afternoon sun, and the rustling of leaves. Early fall was the perfect time for moments like this, when nature felt intimate and unhurried. Most of the tourists had long gone, leaving behind only the soft chorus of birds and the quiet murmur of waves licking the shore.

The breeze teased the pages of his sketchbook, carrying with it the crisp scent of pine needles and the rhythmic whisper of water against the rocks. Noah’s pencil glided in slow, thoughtful strokes as he tried to capture the scene before him, but his thoughts drifted constantly to his girl.

The door to the cottage creaked open right then, and she stepped outside. She carried a wooden tray filled with oat cinnamon cookies, their powdered sugar dusting glinting in the soft afternoon light. The sweet, comforting aroma mingled with the crisp air, making Noah smile to himself even without glancing back.

She padded softly down the dock, her bare feet almost silent against the worn wood, and placed the tray on the armrest of his chair, her fingers grazing his shoulder in a brief, affectionate touch.

“I baked something,” she said, her voice carrying that familiar warmth. Of course she had. Baking was her favorite thing to do. “Something sweet for my favorite artist.”

Noah grinned as he finally looked at her, his eyes catching on the spot of flour smeared across her nose. She had no idea it was there, and he decided not to tell her—she looked adorable like that.

“You need to refill your energy after working so hard for hours on end,” she pointed out as she glanced at the open sketchbook on his lap.

Instead of reaching for a cookie, Noah broke off a small piece and gently brought it to her lips. Her smile widened as she took a bite, the sweetness melting on her tongue. A moment later, he let out a soft chuckle, reaching to brush a crumb off her lip with the pad of his thumb. His eyes lingered on her for a beat longer before dropping back to his half-finished sketch.

“I’m not half as good at drawing as you are at baking,” he admitted.

She tilted her head, glancing at the sketch. “This one looks pretty good to me, Noah.”

He smirked, a playful gleam in his eyes. “Wait until you see the one I did last night, after you fell asleep on the couch.”

“Why do you find it so entertaining to draw me?”

His gaze softened as he looked back at her. “Because you’re my favorite subject.”

That’s when he bopped her nose, making the flour stain disappear.

Her grin was bright and effortless as she leaned over the back of his chair, wrapping her arms around his neck. She rested her chin on his shoulder, close enough to feel his warmth. “And you’re my favorite person to bake for,” she whispered.

Noah’s cheeks flushed slightly at her words, a rare blush coloring his usually composed expression. She kissed the warm skin of his left cheek, lingering for just a moment before pulling away with a satisfied smile. She wandered toward the edge of the dock, her bare feet padding softly against the wooden planks. She sat down, her legs hanging off the edge.

Noah watched her for a moment, admiring how the wind gently tousled her hair and the way the light danced off her skin. The contentment in her posture, the way her eyes reflected the colors of the setting sun—everything about this moment felt perfect.

“You ever gonna let me teach you how to swim?” Noah asked.

She hesitated for a moment, her gaze fixed on the water before she responded quietly, “I don’t know... I’m still a bit scared of it.” She dipped her feet a little deeper, letting the cool water lap around her ankles. “But... I love being here. With you.”

The memory of that first visit just the two of them was vivid in both their minds. This was Jolly’s cottage, the same place where Noah and her had meet back when she was still fourteen and he was eighteen. They had spent countless of weekends and birthdays and fourths of July in this very same place. But nothing had been as special as the weekend Noah convinced Jolly to let him stay with her, alone. It had been six years since then, and even now, the memory of taking her virginity—in Jolly’s bed—was still as clear as water.

Noah watched as the wind played with her hair, blowing soft strands across her face. He picked up his sketchbook again, unable to resist capturing her in this moment—the peacefulness, the effortless beauty. His pencil moved in quick, steady strokes as he sketched her sitting at the edge of the dock, her feet in the water, the sun casting an orange glow over the horizon. He knew that one day, he would marry this girl. There was no question in his mind.

Once satisfied with the drawing, Noah quietly set his sketchbook aside and rose from the chair. He walked over to her with slow, deliberate steps, his heart swelling as he took in the sight of her in this perfect, secluded spot. Without warning, he bent down, pretending to lift her by the underarms as if he were about to toss her into the water.

She yelped in surprise, her heart leaping as she felt her feet lift off the dock. “Noah!”

Before she could fully react, Noah pulled her back into his arms, turning her around to face him. She clung to him, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, her arms tightening around his neck, her pulse racing from the surprise.

“Don’t you dare!” she gasped, breathless from both fear and thrill, burying her face against his neck.

Noah laughed with her, holding her close, feeling her warm breath against his skin. “I wouldn’t let you go that easily,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to her temple.

Still holding her, Noah carried her over to the blanket they had left spread out on the dock earlier. He gently laid her down, her body sinking into the soft fabric, and then settled beside her.

“Don’t you ever,” she started to say, “ever, let me drown, Noah Sebastian.”

“Never ever,” he promised, showing her his pinky finger.

She laced it with hers and finally, she let out a heavy sigh and cuddled closer to him, nuzzing her cheek against his bare shoulder.

They lay close, facing each other, their fingers lazily tracing along each other’s arms and faces. Neither spoke for a long while. Her fingers trailed down his chest while his hand rested lightly on her hip. Above them, the stars began to appear, one by one, until the sky was a dark, glittering canvas. The moon’s reflection shimmered on the water.

“How long will you love me?” Noah asked, his voice barely louder than the breeze.

She gazed at him, eyes warm and steady. She placed the most tender of kisses on his lips.

“Until the stars stop shining.”

#noah sebastian #noah sebastian one shot #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian fanfiction #bad omens #bad omens fanfiction #noah sebastian fluff

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anemos-orca · 8 months ago

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The Harbingers Cat

Balladeer x neko!reader smut, MDNI

cw: smut, female reader, reader is the Balladeers loyal assistant, reader draws NSFW, humiliation, fantasizing, probably more qwq

Series Tag: #▪︎HarbingersCat

NSFW under "keep reading"

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Being the assistant (and a neko one at that) of the 6th Fatui Harbinger was not an easy job, but you couldnt deny how much you enjoyed your work. Despite how you sometimes slipped up or were given a shocking flick of electro for doodling on the job, working under the Balladeers direct command was, to say the least, fulfilling. He tasked you with medial jobs that were "below him" such as paperwork, greeting new cadets, and cleaning his workspace. You found pride in your work and were eager to please, each subtle word of praise murmured by your higher up fueling you into wanting more and more. It was such a rare thing that, whenever it did happen, it was like all your hard work paid off and you were rewarded with something worth more than mora itself- i mean, who gets praised by the Balladeer??

Scaramouche was amused by you and your strange willingness to do anything he asked. Sometimes he would make up a "job" so rediculous, it felt painfully obvious how fake it was- but still, you never questioned him. If for the sake of not having to sift through countless morons, Scaramouche could brush off your stupid little mistakes and your gross habit of doodling. Though, as time passed, he noticed that you were beginning to act... peculiarly. He would catch you mimicing his expressions, the way he walked, the way he talked- he couldnt deny how pathetically adorable it was. His little neko assistant bossing a cadet around just like how he would, only to turn around with a cute, satisfied smile (despite your efforts to contain the satisfaction of successfully copying your boss) like a kid who managed to learn how to make a sandwich just by watching their mom do it. He couldnt take you seriously, not with the way your fluffy little ears flinched away each time he snapped his fingers right next to them just to startle you. Not with how your tail would poof up in excitement at the most meaningless and fickle of things. Not with the way those stupidly expressive eyes of yours seemed to sparkle each time he would murmur the simplest of praises.

After even more time had passed, he would catch himself studying the little doodles you had made in days past- whenever you were being covered by some idiot who didnt know the first thing about being his assistant, they reminded him that he wouldnt have to deal with his medial tasks once you came back. He would never admit it, but he tended to be more annoyed with people on the days you were gone. He didnt understand the strange, relaxing effect you had on him, and it was irritating.

You werent a puppet like him, so being in lethally cold conditions all the time weakened your body just like it would any other mortal. Therefore, you were often given a couple days off every few weeks to recover. Scaramouche couldnt imagine what you could possibly be doing on the days you spent cooped up in your tiny room all alone, but he figured you just slept through it. Besides, mortal activities were not his concern.

However, that changed on the day you accidentally forgot your sketchbook in his office. You had already left- it was late and you finished filling out his paperwork for the day- but you didnt notice the precious item you left behind. Scaramouche knew how valuable it was to you, considering the fact that it was always in your little satchel and you never left it unattended, so it piqued his curiosity. Why was a sketchbook, of all things, your most valuable item? Such a stupid thing to do, to hold something so fragile and easily ruined at high value. Despite his subtle curiosity, he couldnt care less about what you did, owned, or carried, so he never demanded to inspect it. Though, given this perfect opportunity to quell his after-work boredom, he couldnt help but take a peek.

The Balladeer leaned back in his chair and propped his feet up on the desk with a relieved sigh, satisfied to have a moment of relaxation. He flipped the cover of your tattered sketchbook open and examined the first page, reading, "If lost, return to (y/n) at once. Inspection is strictly prohibited. Doing so will result in high punishment." He scoffed, imagining your stupid kitty ears flattening back in seriousness as you wrote. The first few pages after were filled with redundant doodles of the most random things- creatures, expressions, trees, a large amount of dogs and cats- but as he continued thumbing through, he began to see drawings of... himself? He narrowed his eyes and sat forward, raising a judgemental brow. They started out silly and cartoonish, but within the next few pages, he found well thought out, clean, almost realistic drawings of himself in quite the suggestive poses. He couldnt help but snicker, amused by the newfound knowledge of your apparent crush on him. The drawings of the next page were even more suggestive and lewd, but compared to what he flipped to after that, they seemed tame.

He had plans for that sketchbook. Imagining the mortified, humiliated, and impossibly embarrassed expressions youd make when he would reveal to you that he had seen the way you fantasized about his cock- the thoughts painted a sadistic smile across his face, and for the first time in a long time, he looked forward to starting a new day.

Scaramouches eyes widened and his amused expression grew as he laid eyes upon a completely pornographic drawing of himself that filled the entirety of the page- he was sitting in the very chair he sat in now, fisting his hardened cock, a scandalously pleasured expression spread over his face, and thick ropes of cum cascading over his desk. He had to admit, it was a good drawing, but all he could think about was the lustful expression and blushing cheeks you mustve had while creating such lewd art of your own boss. He wouldnt have guessed your massive crush on him even with your overly eager-to-please demeanor, only thinking his little neko assistant acted in such peculiar ways from vehement loyalty- and he found the idea to be rather entertaining. He finished flipping through your sketchbook, studying every nasty drawing you made of him and, in turn, began imagining his own dirty scenarios about making his secretly filthy assistant help him with more... physical tasks. It excited him, and he could feel his body heat up at the tought of it. Slyly chuckling to himself, the Balladeer shoved your sketchbook into the top drawer of his desk and left for the night, being sure to lock the door to his icy office so you couldnt sneak in and take back what was rightfully yours.

You, on the other hand, were not. The moment you set your satchel down in your little room, the lack of its familiar clunk sound due to your sketchbook being inside made your heart drop. You frantically searched every inch of your room, overturning and messing up every nook and cranny looking for that blasted sketchbook, but it was nowhere to be found. It was too late to go looking for it- it was past curfew, and if you were found snooping about, you would be punished and questioned. How could you possibly face another Fatui member and explain that, "Oh, im not being suspicious, dont worry! Im just desperately looking for my lost sketchbook that contains highly inappropriate art of the 6th Harbinger, my boss." You gulped hard, an overwhelming feeling of guilt creeping through your skin and into your bones as you remembered where it last was. His office. Your tail bristled and your mind began to race, panicing at the thought of what was going to happen tomorrow- surely he had seen it and flipped through the pages, infuriated that his stupid little kitty assistant was drawing porn of him. Was he going to kill you? Imprison you? Exile you to the fridgid wilds of your homeland? Archons, your heart had never beat so hard in your life. It felt like it was trying to escape your ribcage to run away and hide. However, no matter how much you stressed, there was nothing you could do except face the consequences of your actions in the morning. Your stupid, foolish actions.

#genshin fanfic #genshin x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #genshin scaramouche x reader #genshin impact scaramouche #scaramouche #genshin scaramouche smut #scaramouche smut #genshin scara #scara x reader #the balladeer #genshin impact #genshin #genshin x you #▪︎HarbingersCat #balladeer smut #genshin impact x reader

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icyminghao · 2 years ago

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boynextdoor as boyfriends

pairing: boynextdoor (ot6) x gn!reader genre: fluff, headcanon

requested by @yawnzzznnn! hope you like it :)

JAEHYUN

he’s such a little puppy

he’ll be running to you whining at every minor inconvenience (especially after the boys tease him)

wants you to protect him and wants to protect you too

the type of bf who walks on the side of the street nearest to the road bc he’s cheesy like that

you don’t have to lift a single finger with him around! he’ll do everything for you

lowkey gets jealous bc he wants you to focus on him and him only

overall a lovesick puppy who yearns for your attention 24/7

“y/n…” Jaehyun is tugging on your sleeve and whining as you talk to Taesan about Oasis.

You turn to Jaehyun, ruffling his hair affectionately. “What is it, Jae?”

“You’ve been talking to Taesan for one whole hour! You came over to spend time with me,” Jaehyun whines, pouting and glaring at Taesan. Reading the room, Taesan makes up some flimsy excuse and leaves, leaving the two of you alone in the living room.

“I’m sorry, big baby, I must have gotten too carried away! It’s not everyday you find another Oasis fan around our age, you know,” you giggle, pulling Jaehyun into a hug. “I’m all yours today, okay?”

SUNGHO

the partner privilege you get from him is insane

you could literally ask him for anything and he’d just smile softly at you and agree

values your opinion a lot

he got a new haircut? he needs to know what you think. can’t decide what to have for lunch? he’s asking you for ideas immediately.

overall a hopelessly in love bf who would do anything for you

bonus: he definitely has a sketchbook filled with drawings of you and you only

“Sungho, can I braid your hair?” you ask hesitantly, looking at him from where you’re sitting on the couch.

Sungho smiles softly. “Of course you can, love. Come here,”

That day, the boys come back to the dorms only to get the shock of their lives. In front of them is a dolled-up Sungho with barettes on both sides of his braided hair, and the boys look on in disbelief.

“No way, Sungho. I’ve been bugging you to let me do this for weeks, and you let y/n do it after they ask once? This is so unfair!” Riwoo whines.

Sungho simply shrugs. “Well, you’re not y/n.”

RIWOO

he’s sooo shy

wouldn’t initiate skinship first when y’all first start out, and when you do he literally malfunctions

he’s not really good with his words so he’d express his love for you through other stuff like acts of service or gifts

once he gets comfortable in the relationship, though, good luck getting rid of him

he’s never letting you out of sight (or out of arm’s reach) whenever possible

overall he’d be a really sweet shy bf™ who’s really attentive to your interests and pays attention to whatever you say even if it looks like he isn’t (somebody pls get me a riwoo)

“This place is amazing, Riwoo. We finally did it!” you exclaim, walking around your new house and reeling over the fact that you finally moved in with Riwoo.

“I know, right?” Riwoo smiles, following behind you.

Your hands brush over the walls of the bedroom. “I think we should add some personality to the rooms. What do you think about painting the walls?”

“Sure. We could paint it light green,” Riwoo agrees, looking around. Your eyes widen in shock.

“How did you know I’d want light green?” you ask, genuinely surprised.

Riwoo chuckles affectionately. “You showed me your dream bedroom once while we were playing We’re Not Really Strangers. I think it was a year and a half ago?”

TAESAN

i feel like quiet moments together would be your thing

dates would either be chilling at the park while you read and he plays the guitar or chilling at the dorms

he may not talk much, but quality time is his thing and he’d always make sure his attention is 100% focused on you whenever y’all are together

probably has multiple playlists dedicated to you

overall a quiet but super romantic bf

“What song do you want to listen to?” you ask as Taesan starts pulling out of his parking spot.

Taesan shrugs. “Just look through my playlists and see if there’s any that you like.”

Oh, shit. Taesan realises the implications of his words, and looks over for a second to see you scrolling through his Spotify.

Sure enough, you let out a sound of surprise. One that Taesan would have gone crazy for, but he’s panicking hard.

“Uh, it’s not what it looks like?” he says softly.

“Tae, all the songs in this playlist are all my favourites! That’s so cool, do we have the same music taste?” you exclaim, bewildered.

Taesan chuckles awkwardly, “Yeah, we’re really meant to be, huh?”

Maybe next time he’ll tell you about his uncountable playlists dedicated to you.

LEEHAN

affectionate bf™

he’s absolutely in awe at literally anything you do

you just made dinner? he’s so proud of you. you just lost a game of league of legends? it’s okay, he thought you did absolutely amazing.

would fall in love with you ten times more if you entertained his fish hobby

y’all are the cutest fish parents!

overall the cutest bf who literally loves you and everything you do

“Darling, can we get this angelfish?”

“Hannie, we already have five of those back at home,” you boop Leehan’s nose affectionately, “what if they get jealous of the new addition?”

“Come on, babe, they’d love a new friend! We can call him Angel,” Leehan shakes your shoulder, pouting.

“Angel the Sixth?”

Leehan smiles. “Angel the Sixth.”

WOONHAK

lights up whenever he sees you

i feel like he’d love to rest his head on your lap, too, and put your hand on top of his hair as a silent request for you to play with it (you do. everytime.)

whines when you remove your hand to do something else

he definitely talks about you to no end to the boys (much to their dismay), he just loves you so much

cannot last a minute without interacting with you in some way (physical contact if you’re in close proximity, through text if you’re not)

overall a golden retriever bf who loves you so much (good luck getting rid of him)

“Did you wish y/n a happy birthday?” Sungho asks as soon as Woonhak walks into the practice room.

“Yeah, of course I did! I wished them the moment the clock struck twelve. Wait, how do you know it’s their birthday today?” Woonhak furrows his eyebrows in confusion. You and Sungho don’t know each other, so how…?

“Of course I know their birthday,” Sungho chuckles, “You wouldn’t shut up about it no matter how many times we complained this past week.”

a/n: i hope y’all enjoyed this bc i had so much fun making this!!! ok i should stop getting sidetracked now i need to focus on knocking on heaven’s (your) door ><

masterlist

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h0neybane · 22 days ago

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Evelyuu for the No Yandere Simulator AU by @quartztwst!! More detailed notes below...

Evelyn always carries two sketchbooks and her fountain pen with her. Her fingers are constantly stained with ink and she can often be seen drawing inside the books. However, she is EXTREMELY protective of the sketchbooks and has not allowed anyone to look inside them.

Evelyn has a good reputation around the school as she is willing to tutor people for free time to time. She also often shares her own food, further gaining the favor of other students. However, her reputation is slightly negated by her strange behavior around a certain student...

Evelyn is mostly unassuming, but there have been a few moments where she has been caught staring down Leona Kingscholar, with rumors stating that her gaze was 'frighteningly intense.' She seems to be deeply infatuated with him... (... In contrast to Quartz, Evelyn is an ACTUAL yandere whos target is Leona. She is mostly dormant and has not taken any action, but if pushed far enough, she could kill someone. However, at current, she has resorted to watching him from afar. Inside of one of her sketchbooks, she holds hundreds of drawings of him, messy sketches made while watching him. The other is filled with violent images, of which she uses as a stress reliever.)

Evelyn is deeply resentful of Azul Ashengrotto because she views him as a better version of herself. She finds many similarities between herself and him, leading to her generally trying to avoid him, but *it becomes difficult as she is a member of the student council alongside him. Furthermore, Evelyn is the type of person to see something but never say anything, especially if it's to her benefit.

With all these factors in mind, Quartz can interact with Evelyn in many different ways. If Quartz can gain Evelyn's favor, she can use her resent towards Azul and *her access to council information to turn Evelyn into an accomplice of hers. Another option is to take advantage of Evelyn's infatuation with Leona and drive her to murder, allowing her to be framed. * ok so i said evelyn is a member of the student council but i left it out of the actual image bc i'm questioning if the student council in this universe is just the dorm leaders??? if that's true and it wouldn't make sense for her to be in the student council, disregard everything marked with an asterisk.

@taruruchi @honeyedpearcrushh @boopshoops @scint1llat3

@h2llish @viperbunnies @buttholesparkles @oya-oya-okay @cheerleaderman

@qsoap @angelwishess @jadelover69 @skriblee-ksk @lychee-face

#twst #twisted wonderland #・❥・my art #twst oc #twst fanart #my ocs #oc x canon #evleo #twst au #twisted wonderland au #twisted wonderland oc #evelyn [my yuusona!!!]#no yandere sim au

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introcoryo · 1 year ago

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political science major!coriolanus, whose idea of a night of unwinding is reading a chapter of machiavelli’s ‘the prince’ with a glass of pinot noir in hand. well versed in debate, often dramatically pulling out notecards with bullet points on them as you argue over where to have dinner.

nursing major!sejanus, who is well liked and trusted amongst his peers and professors, being known for a tenderness that you can only find in bob ross painting demonstrations. you help him study by quizzing him until dawn, a kiss for every correct answer energizing him more than any red bull could.

music performance major!lucy gray, always carrying around a honey burst colored guitar, her fingers absentmindedly strumming the air as she walks. she refers to you as her muse, and soothes you to sleep on rough nights with a hushed lullaby specifically written with confessions of love whittled between lyrics.

fashion design major!tigris, who fills out sketchbooks and sketchbooks with extravagant designs she someday hopes will hit the runway. she has appointed herself as your personal stylist, and kisses your temple as she gets your measurements for custom-made pieces.

#tbosbas present day uni students??#will do an original trilogy version soon #i have so many strong visions that i will expand on later #thg #the hunger games #tbosbas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #sejanus plinth #sejanus plinth x reader #lucy gray baird #lucy gray baird x reader #tigris snow #tigris snow x reader

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estellan0vella · 8 months ago

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Don't Bring The Kids To Work Older Brother Sukuna AU HFBU Pt1

Walking through the bustling streets, you hold onto Megumi's hand while Yuji skips alongside you, humming a cheerful tune. The midday sun is warm, casting a golden glow over everything. Your destination is just ahead: Sukuna's tattoo and piercing parlour, a place that's become a second home to you.

You open the door, the familiar chime signalling your arrival. The scent of antiseptic mixed with a hint of ink fills your nostrils, and you instantly feel at ease. The parlour is lively as always, with the hum of tattoo machines and low chatter creating a comforting background noise. Your plan today was to bring Yuji to the parlour so he'd stop asking questions about the wrestling incident from four days ago.

"Hey, Suku!" Yuji calls out, his voice full of excitement. He dashes towards Sukuna, who is leaning against the reception desk, talking to Toji and Geto. Sukuna looks up, a grin spreading across his face as he sees you and the kids.

"Hey, brat," Sukuna greets Yuji, ruffling his hair before his eyes find yours. "Hey, baby." His voice softens, and you can see the affection in his eyes.

"Hi, Kuna," you reply with a smile, walking over to him. Megumi, still holding your hand, looks up at Sukuna with wide eyes.

Toji smirks, leaning back in his chair. "Looks like the little one's tired," he comments, nodding towards Megumi.

"Yeah, he's had a long day," you reply, bending down to pick up the sleepy boy. He instantly curls up in your arms, his head resting against your shoulder.

"Why don't you two go sit on the couch?" Geto suggests, pointing to the comfortable-looking sofa in the corner of the parlour. "Megumi can take a nap, and you can relax."

You nod, grateful for the suggestion. "Thanks, Geto."

You carry Megumi over to the couch and gently lay him down, his body stretched out on your lap. The parlour buzzes with its usual activity as you settle onto the couch, gently laying Megumi down on your lap.

His breathing evens out quickly, and you can feel his small body relax completely. Sukuna hands you your sketchbook with a wink, and you open it, immediately starting to doodle.

Yuji, never one to sit still for long, bounds over to Toji and Geto. "Hey, Toji! Hey, Geto!" he calls out, his eyes alight with curiosity. "Why do Suku and Y/N/N wrestle at night?"

Toji nearly spits out his drink, while Geto's face splits into a wide grin. "Wrestle, huh?" Geto muses, glancing over at Sukuna, who is now rubbing his temples in exasperation.

"Yeah! When I went into the room one time, they said they were wrestling," Yuji continues, unabashed as you stare at your sketchbook. "Sometimes I hear Y/N/N saying 'harder, harder,' and it sounds like Suku is hurting her. But she keeps asking for it!"

Toji is now outright cackling, his laughter echoing through the parlour. "Oh man, this kid is killing me," he wheezes, wiping tears from his eyes. Geto leans back, shaking his head with a broad grin on his face.

"Lord kill me now," You sigh.

Geto, still grinning, decides to chime in. "Yuji, when grown-ups say things like that, it's because they're playing a very private game. It's not something kids need to worry about."

Yuji seems to ponder this for a moment before coming up with another question. "But why does Y/N/N say it feels good, but then sometimes she tells Suku it's too big?"

Toji lets out another round of laughter, nearly falling out of his chair. "Kid, you're really something else."

You lift the still-sleeping Megumi into your arms, using his small body as a shield to hide your burning face. He wraps his arms around your neck, nuzzling into you sleepily. The warmth and weight of the little boy offer some comfort amidst the onslaught of Yuji's relentless questions.

Geto, equally entertained but trying to maintain a semblance of composure, adds, "Yuji, sometimes adults exaggerate when they're playing their games. It's all part of the fun."

Yuji, not entirely convinced, tilts his head. "But why does Suku tell Y/N/N to take it like a good girl? What is she taking?"

You can feel Sukuna's tension radiating as he rubs his temples more vigorously. "Yuji, we've told you—it's just a game for grown-ups. It's not something you need to understand right now."

"But if it's a game, why does it make so much noise?" Yuji presses on, his eyes wide and earnest.

Toji lets out another bellowing laugh, nearly sliding out of his chair. "Oh, this kid is gonna kill me! I've never laughed this hard in my life."

Geto, barely holding it together, shakes his head. "Yuji, some games are just noisy. It's part of the excitement."

Yuji pauses, considering this, before coming up with yet another question. "Okay, but why does (Y/N/N) sometimes say she can't take it anymore? And why does Suku tell her she can?"

Toji is now almost incoherent with laughter, his face red and eyes streaming with tears. "Oh, this is gold. Pure gold."

You clutch Megumi tighter, feeling his gentle, rhythmic breathing against your chest, wishing you could use him to disappear entirely. The mortification is palpable, but you can't help but laugh at the sheer absurdity of the situation.

"Yuji," Sukuna says, trying to keep his voice calm and steady despite the deep flush on his face, "sometimes people push each other to be better, to go further than they think they can. It's about encouragement."

Yuji's face lights up with understanding. "Oh, so it's like when you make me run faster during soccer practice because you know I can do it!"

Sukuna nods, grateful for the comparison. "Exactly. Just like that."

"But why does Y/N/N sometimes say 'more, more,' and then say 'no more'? Is it like when I want more ice cream but then my tummy hurts?"

Toji falls out of his chair, hitting the floor with a thud but still laughing hysterically. "I can't handle this kid! He's too much!"

Geto is barely holding himself together, his shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter. "Yuji, it's a bit like that, yes. Sometimes people think they want more of something but then realize they need to slow down."

Yuji nods solemnly, taking in the explanation. "Okay, I think I get it. But what does Suku mean when he tells Y/N/N to 'ride it'? Do they have a secret pony?"

Toji's laughter reaches a new volume, and he starts wheezing, completely losing it. "Oh, man! I can't breathe!"

Geto leans back, wiping tears from his eyes, struggling to keep his composure. "Yuji, that's just more of the same game talk. It's all part of the... encouragement."

You bury your face in Megumi's hair, trying to hide your burning cheeks. "Yuji, maybe it's time to ask different questions."

Yuji looks thoughtful. "Why does Suku sometimes tell you to scream his name?"

Toji is now rolling on the floor, clutching his stomach and gasping for air between peals of laughter. "This kid! I can't take it!"

"I'm going to kill myself," You mutter.

You're at your wit's end, trying to maintain some semblance of composure while Yuji continues to ask questions that push the boundaries of your embarrassment. Megumi stirs slightly in your arms, murmuring something in his sleep, oblivious to the chaos unfolding around him.

Toji is still on the floor, laughing so hard that he's practically gasping for air. Geto, though struggling to keep a straight face, attempts to offer an explanation. "Yuji, sometimes people use words to describe how much they like something. It's like saying something is really good."

Yuji nods, apparently satisfied with this answer for a moment. "Okay, but why does Suku say Y/N/N is tight?"

Toji's laughter reaches a new crescendo, his face turning red as he clutches his stomach. "Oh, my sides! I can't breathe!"

Geto shakes his head, still chuckling. "Yuji, it's... um, it's a compliment. Like saying someone is really strong."

You bury your face in Megumi's hair, hoping to disappear entirely. "Yuji, maybe we should talk about something else."

Yuji, undeterred, furrows his brow in thought. "But what does it mean when Suku tells Y/N/N to take it all?"

Toji lets out another burst of laughter, slapping his knee as he struggles to regain his breath. "Oh, Yuji, you're killing me!"

Sukuna, who has been remarkably patient throughout this ordeal, finally intervenes. "Yuji, why don't we talk about something different? Like your favourite snacks or games?"

Yuji considers this for a moment, seeming to weigh his options. "Okay, Suku. But one last thing—why does (Y/N/N) sometimes call you daddy?"

"Seizure, seizure, seizure," You chant, looking at the ceiling, hoping that a seizure will take you out of this misery as Toji howls with laughter.

Sukuna moves to stand behind you, placing his hands on your shoulders as you continue to mutter prayers under your breath.

"Maybe don't wish for a seizure?" Sukuna suggests, squeezing your shoulders.

"It seems like the only option right now," You mutter. "A lot less traumatic"

Sukuna's hands tighten on your shoulders as he glances down at you, his eyes filled with a mix of amusement and sympathy. "It's not that bad, babe. We'll get through it."

Yuji, still curious, looks up at Sukuna with wide eyes. "So, why does Y/N/N call you daddy?"

Sukuna sighs deeply, rubbing his temples with one hand. "Yuji, it's just a nickname. It's something special between grown-ups."

Toji, recovering from his bout of laughter, wipes away tears. "Oh, this is too good. You two are never going to live this down."

"Do you want to die?" You glare at Toji.

Toji, still laughing, holds up his hands in mock surrender. "Hey, I'm just enjoying the show. No harm done."

Geto smirks, leaning against the counter. "Yeah, you guys are providing top-tier entertainment today."

Sukuna shakes his head, giving you a reassuring squeeze. "Ignore them, babe. Let's get these kids fed."

You nod, lifting a still-drowsy Megumi into your arms as Sukuna takes Yuji's hand. "Alright, let's go get some burgers."

As you all head towards the door, Toji calls out, "Have fun, you guys! And Yuji, keep those questions coming."

Geto chuckles, adding, "Yeah, we need more laughs around here."

Yuji beams, clearly enjoying the attention. "Okay! I'll think of more questions for next time."

You groan inwardly but can't help but smile. "Please don't."

Outside, the sunlight feels warm on your skin, and the chaos of the tattoo parlour fades into the background. Yuji skips ahead, his boundless energy infectious, while Megumi rests his head on your shoulder, his small body relaxing against yours.

Sukuna walks beside you, his arm wrapped protectively around your waist. "You okay, baby?"

You nod, leaning into him. "Yeah, just mortified. But I'll survive."

He chuckles, kissing your temple. "You handled it like a champ."

Yuji looks back at you, his eyes wide with excitement. "Are we getting burgers now?"

"Yes, Yuji," Sukuna says with a laugh. "Burgers it is."

You head to a nearby burger joint, a place that's become a place you frequent. The kids immediately perk up at the sight of the colourful play area inside. Yuji practically drags Sukuna to the counter, while you find a booth and settle Megumi down, his eyes already lighting up at the sight of the menu.

Once you're all seated with your food, Yuji starts firing off more questions, thankfully this time about his favourite superheroes and cartoons. The conversation is lively and fun, a stark contrast to the earlier embarrassment.

As the kids dive into their meals, Sukuna leans over, his voice low and filled with affection. "I love you, babe. Thanks for putting up with all of this."

You smile, your heart swelling with love. "I love you too, Kuna. And I wouldn't trade this chaos for anything."

Yuji, overhearing, grins widely. "I love you too, (Y/N/N) and Suku!"

Megumi, with his mouth full of burger, nods. "Love you."

Sukuna laughs, ruffling Yuji's hair and giving Megumi a fond look. "Love you too, brats."

As you all finish your meal, you can't help but feel a deep sense of contentment. Despite the embarrassing questions and the chaos that often surrounds your life with Sukuna and the kids, these moments of love and laughter make it all worthwhile. And as you walk out of the burger joint, hand in hand with Sukuna, with Yuji skipping ahead and Megumi drowsily resting on your shoulder, you know that there's no place you'd rather be.

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