#did banana flow will never

[fedoras-stuff]

replying to someone else btw

2 things that plague my mind all day but combined

[moirasdolly]

˚ ⋆ﾟ୨୧ Princess Treatment ୨୧ ˚ ⋆ﾟSevika x Fem Reader

Synopsis: How can Sevika focus on a word you’re saying when your lips just look so kissable? She just wants to take you home and spoil you…

Contains: NSFW (minors and men dni), biting, lots of hickies, sevika eats reader out, strap on sex mwahhh, reader gets princess treatment

Listening to ♪ ིྀ: The Party & The After Party - The Weeknd

Notes: Sorry it’s been so long T^T, I’ve been really struggling with writing and I’m not even confident or necessarily happy with this either. I hope you guys enjoy it regardless <\3 I totally didn’t write this because i’m projecting (I want Sevika so bad)

Your sweet voice that flowed from between your lips like syrup were all Sevika could even think about as you sat in her lap at The Last Drop. Her flesh arm wrapped tenderly around your waist and the mechanical one draped across the bar counter, shielding you from any drunkard who might bump into you. Even though it was already winding down and there were few patrons left in the bar, she would never leave you exposed. She didn’t retain a single word you were speaking though, she was too focused on the tone of your voice, the way your hands flailed wildly as you explained whatever story you were telling, and most importantly your perfectly pouty lips.

Thieram stood behind the counter listening intently, nodding his head at every little detail of your story along with Ran who would throw out a comment every so often. “…and you would not believe it… I slipped on a banana peel!” You could barely even get through your sentence without breaking out into a fit of giggles. You buried your face in your hands, tears threatening to spill over because of your laughter. The laughter of the whole group snapped Sevika out of her daze and she forced out a chuckle at your antics. It wasn’t that she didn’t find your story interesting, she just couldn’t help but get lost in your whole being.

You picked up on her behavior and shot her a look over your shoulder. You furrowed your brows gently and your lips fell into a little frown as you looked into her gray eyes. She looked up at you through her lashes as apologetically as she could before planting a soft kiss on your cheek. You’d let it slide for now, but when you got home you’d be sure to question her.

The rest of the night went off without a hitch, and Sevika made sure to actually contribute to the conversations. You had almost forgotten about her earlier slip up, until the same thing happened again. You were mid sentence when you noticed Sevika hadn’t said anything for the longest time, but her grip was beginning to tighten on you. Her arm had moved slightly lower to wrap around your hip instead, her large hand mindlessly rubbed small circles into the flesh exposed by your shorts. Your words faltered at her touch and you fumbled over your sentence. Your hand rested over her own before gliding it down to rest on your thigh instead. You kept a watchful eye on her to make sure she didn’t try anything before the night was over.

Unfortunately, it was getting late and everyone was growing tired. You four were the only other ones in the bar since it was pretty late into the night. Thieram didn’t want to kick you guys out, but he did have to close up the bar sooner or later.  “It was nice seeing everyone again! Maybe next time we could play a few rounds of pool?” You planted your hands on your hips, tilting your head to the side slightly awaiting an answer from your close friends. “Only if you plan to lose.” Ran quipped back. You feigned disbelief, raising a hand to your chest and gasping. “You’ll be eating your words Ran, remember this moment.”

This got a real chuckle out of Sevika this time. She slid her flesh arm around your waist and tugged you closer to her. “I bet on my princess, sorry Ran.” They dismissed the rest of the group with a wave of their hand, “Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever.” It was all lighthearted though, you saw the corner of their lips tug up into a smile before turning to make their leave. Now it was just Thieram, Sevika and yourself outside of the bar. The young man bid you farewell before stepping back inside the establishment for his closing duties.

A comfortable silence settled over you as you began the walk back to your shared home. Now that it was just the two of you alone though, you wanted to prod her about her seemingly not paying attention to you. “Sev… How come you weren’t listening to a word I said tonight?” You tried to keep the pout off your lips, you really did, but you were kind of irritated with her. Sevika looked like a deer caught in headlights, like she didn’t quite know how to explain herself. You stopped in your tracks, waiting for her to talk. “I’m not moving ‘til you tell me.” You knew you were being stubborn, but you thought you deserved an explanation. If there was something on her mind, you wanted to know.

The older woman could most definitely overpower you to keep you walking, but instead she stopped the moment you did. Her arm was still wrapped around your waist but she turned to face you. You were staring up at her with those big, beautiful eyes of yours and she couldn’t help but get lost in your features. You were feeling shy under her gaze, your cheeks flushing uncontrollably. She brought her flesh hand up to your face, gripping your chin between her thumb and index finger gently. “Princess, I’m sorry you’re just too beautiful. I was so mesmerized by your sweet voice I could barely process what you were saying tonight.” Well you couldn’t be mad at that explanation.

“I was just thinking about how much more sweet you’d sound under me, begging for more.” She angled your head up slightly higher before capturing your lips in a kiss that was far too quick for your liking. When she parted from you, you tried to chase after her lips eagerly just wanting to feel her against you again. “Why don’t we get home first?” She murmured. All previous thoughts you had were no longer present and instead all you could think about was getting home as quickly as possible. You nodded slowly and you two continued down the path to home.

Your home wasn’t the closest to The Last Drop and your legs were getting tired, but you didn’t want to complain. Your pace was beginning to slow, the shoes you had decided on were not the most comfortable, but you weren't thinking about the walk home when you chose your attire for the night. The gentlewoman that Sevika was, had noticed your discomfort and scooped you up into her arms. No matter how many times she did it, it made you gasp still. “Sevi!” You wrapped your arms around her neck as an automatic response and she just chuckled. “I can’t have my princess feeling tired before we even get home.”

The implications of that were enough to make your cheeks flush again, and you were practically buzzing in her arms with anticipation.

The rest of the walk home was filled with sweet idle conversation, although it was mostly you rambling away like always while Sevika listened intently. She couldn’t get enough of you and your honeyed tone.

Your shared home was slowly coming into view and you huffed prematurely, knowing she’d have to set you down to get the door open. “Sweet girl, I’m going to get this door open, but you’ll be in my arms again in no time.” Your feet hit the ground for the first time in a while, but you felt well rested thanks to your thoughtful girlfriend.

“Thank you baby.” You drew out the pet name as she opened the door, whisking you inside before locking it behind you. Before you could even get another word out you were in her strong arms once more. Her flesh arm cradled your back and her mechanical arm hooked under your thighs as she carried you bridal style to the bedroom. Your sweet giggles filled Sevika’s ears as she planted about a dozen soft kisses all over your face.

The next time you were put down you felt fuzzy blankets beneath your body as you sank into the bed. Sevika propped herself up with her mechanical arm and snuck her knee between your thighs gently, chuckling at your eagerness to feel her when you squeezed your legs around her limb. Her gray eyes peered down at you, heavy lidded with lust and adoration for you, her perfect, angelic sweetheart. “Fuck, I wish you could see just how beautiful you look under me right now.” Her gray, puppy dog eyes met your own and you couldn’t take it anymore. The way they glimmered down at you made you want her even more. You snaked your arms around her neck and tugged her down to meet your lips in a heated kiss.

Your tongue swiped over her bottom lip briefly before prodding into her mouth. If you weren’t listening so intently you would have missed the tiny groan that emanated from her throat. You wanted to hear more, so with all your strength you pushed her to the side and flipped your positions. Sevika definitely let you, otherwise you would have stayed snuggly under her due to the difference in strength.

Your legs rested on either side of her hips and your head dipped down to her jaw to press several feather light kisses to her skin. Whatever was left of your pink lipgloss transferred to her jawline and you loved how your kiss marks looked on her tanned skin. 

She was enjoying your kisses even more than you though. Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes were fluttering shut every so often to bask in the feeling. The next time your plump lips met her skin, it was on the tender patch of skin in the middle of her throat. You placed one kiss, two kisses, and on the third one you sucked a small bruise into her skin. Her deep moans vibrated on your lips and you felt like you couldn’t get enough of her. “Baby I’m supposed to be the one taking care of you.” She chuckled in between moans.

Those soft lips of yours curled into a smile as you peered down at all your hard work. Her neck was littered with evidence of your affection. Dark purples and reds were blooming all across the expanse of her supple skin. “You can do whatever you want to me… just let me have my fun first.” You whispered into her ear, your teeth nipping her lobe.

“Whatever my princess wants, she gets.”

What you wanted to do was leave her neck completely covered in love bites, so that she’d have to wear turtlenecks out for the next two weeks. And you were on the right track for that. Sevika would never admit it out loud, even though you’ve witnessed it before, but just being kissed and bitten by you was enough for her to cum in her pants. She got off on how desperate you were to mark her and show everyone she was yours just as much as you were hers.

You slipped your hands under her cropped shirt, sliding it up her toned stomach. Her breasts sprang free and you adjusted yourself lower on her body to give them soft kisses before taking one of her nipples into your mouth. Her breathing grew heavier as you sucked little bruises into her breasts. Little grunts and sighs escaped her lips and a devilish idea presented itself to you. You nipped her nipple with your teeth as you kneaded her other breast softly. You began grinding on her, the friction felt unbelievably good for the both of you. Her body was growing taut at the sensation and in no time you had her cumming with a string of moans.

“Fuck, princess your mouth is heaven on earth…” She trailed off after taking a deep breath. 

You tried containing your smile, but you felt rather accomplished for making her cum with nothing but your mouth on her. “You’re so sensitive, who knew that’s all it would take.”

“Well it’s easy to give in when I have the most beautiful woman in the world sitting on top of me.” Her charming words made your heart melt and you couldn’t help but lean down to kiss her for the millionth time. Unfortunately for you, the kiss was cut short by Sevika pulling away.

“I think it’s time to spoil my baby.”

Her flesh arm flipped you over, your back hitting the bed as she caged you underneath her broad body. A squeal escaped your lips at the sudden move and Sevika ate up your little noises as she captured your lips in a fervent kiss. Your hands instantly found purchase on her muscular shoulders as you tried to pull her closer. Her mechanical hand had a bruising grip on your hip, and the sting felt delicious. Her flesh hand was gentle, a complete contrast. She held your face like you were made of glass, her thumb caressing your blushed cheek. 

As much as she loved kissing your perfect, plump lips, she wanted her mouth on your body too. She took the hem of your shirt in between her fingers and ripped it off of you. No time was wasted as she unclasped your bra as well, throwing it somewhere in the room. Her lips trailed heated kisses down your jaw, across your throat, and all across your chest. Dark lipstick was littered across your whole upper body, and it was almost making the older woman malfunction. If she could, she’d take a picture and keep it in her wallet. You were the epitome of beauty to her always, but in that moment you looked like an angel, all sprawled out for her with her marks all over you.

“Sevika… Don’t just look, touch me. Please…” You whined softly, if you weren’t so turned on you’d cringe at how needy you sounded.

She shot you a toothy grin, “I know baby, let’s get these off of you.” She tugged at the waistband of your little shorts, pulling them down your thighs, and fully off your legs. Next were the lacy panties you knew Sevika liked. She pressed a kiss to the little bow in the center of your panties before discarding those as well. The cold air hit your body and you shivered at the feeling. 

“Come warm me up, Sevi.” 

That’s all she needed to hear before hiking your thighs up on her shoulders before delving into your glistening cunt. She gave your clit a quick kiss before flattening her tongue against you.You mewled at the sensation of her thick, long tongue brushing against your aching clit. She had barely even touched you and you already felt a familiar feeling building in your stomach. Your body was something she knew eerily well, she knew all the spots that made you tick, the pressure that made you see stars, and just the way to swirl her tongue to make you clench those beautiful thighs around her head.

“Fuck baby, you taste so good, my sweetheart.” 

She lapped at your cunt like she was drunk on the taste of you. Her tongue slipped into you, deep. Reaching places only she could. Your thighs clamped down around her head, and that’s exactly where she wanted to be, buried between the soft flesh.

She was relentless when you came with a long string of filthy moans of her name. It just spurred her on even more until you were twitching under her, feeling overstimulated. When she came up for air, she licked her lips which were slick with your release. Her eyes met your own as she wiped her mouth before leaning to kiss down your thighs once more. Her tongue ghosted over your sensitive flesh before she moved away to let you recover for a moment.

Your body laid limp on the bed as Sevika rubbed small circles on your waist to bring you back to earth. “Can you give me another, princess?” Her flesh hand found its way to your face again, her thumb slipping past your lips. You nodded your head slowly, your hazy eyes finding hers.

“Words baby.” She reminded you.

“Yes, Sevi. I can take it.” Your voice was muffled slightly by her digit, but it was clear you wanted whatever she’d give you. 

She slipped off the bed to retrieve her strap, slipping into the black harness that made your mouth water. The bed dipped under her weight as she climbed onto the bed once more, returning to her rightful place between your legs again. If Sevika was one thing in bed, it was appreciative. She took in your beautiful form inch by inch, her eyes scanning your body like it was a piece of art. Her demeanor was rough and mean with everyone and if you were honest, it turned you on completely. But she wasn’t like that with you, she treated you with care as if you were made of porcelain. Her touches were tender, making your comfort her highest regard. You truly were her princess

The tip of her silicone length rested against your soaked pussy, and you knew she wasn’t trying to tease, but you just wished she’d move. You bucked your hips with what energy you had left to receive a bit of friction, and all Sevika could do was chuckle at how needy you were. She took your movements as a sign to guide the dark purple length into you. Calloused hands guided your plush thighs to wrap around her waist gently. You squeezed your thighs around her as she disappeared into you little by little.

Her eyes trailed down to where you two were connected before trailing back up to look into your hazy eyes. Your lashes were lined with crystalline tears, collecting like little dewdrops on your lashes. 

“You’re taking me so good, sweetheart.” Sevika rasped, leaning down to kiss away your tears. “D’ya think you can handle me moving?”

A lewd whimper left your lips, and you didn’t quite trust your voice to not crack when you spoke. The best you could muster out was a little, “Please.” 

God, you sounded so blissed out, it was taking every bone in the older woman’s body to not fuck you silly into the mattress. She started with slow and controlled rolls of her hips into your cunt. You wrapped your arms around her broad back, pulling her flush against you. You couldn’t help but press soft kisses onto the little bruises you created on her from earlier. She sucked in a breath as you kissed a particularly sore spot. You let your teeth graze her neck, nipping at her ever so slightly.

Her hips stuttered initially as you bit her, but she picked up her movement, moving faster than before. Soft grunts were amplified in your ears and it was almost all you could focus on. If it weren’t for the thick toy being stuffed into you, you would have said something about the noises she was making. Her huffs vibrated against your ear lobe and on a particularly deep thrust she moaned like she could feel your cunt clenching around the toy.

“Baby you’re squeezing me so hard, so perfect.” She just couldn’t keep her hands to herself either. One hand rested on your waist and the other trailed down your stomach to your clit. She rubbed slow circles on your already sensitive clit and you couldn’t take it. The feeling of her quick, deep thrusts along with the additional stimulation was sending you reeling. 

You were just putty in her hands, babbling nonsense that resembled her name and various curse words. You couldn’t even hold your head up anymore, instead letting it hit the soft pillows beneath you. Sevika took the chance to kiss up your neck slowly, paying attention to every bit of exposed skin she could get to. By now her lipstick was already rubbed off, but you could still feel every mark she left on you. You wouldn’t trade the feeling for the world.

“Fuck!” You squealed out as she snapped her hips into you at an even more brutal pace. “‘M so close Sevi!” You could barely form a full sentence the way she was ruining you. Without warning your body stiffened and you were cumming. She didn’t slow down though, she kept her pace up as you twitched around her thick length. She pushed herself up from where she was trailing kisses all over your neck to see the rest of you. Your lips were plump and parted, lewd whimpers falling from them like that’s all you knew how to do. Your hair was messy, neck filled with bruises to match her own, and your chest was full of lipstick marks. You were completely hers, and you had the marks to prove it too.

Her eyes trailed down to where you were taking her so well, “Look at how it disappears baby, you were made for me.” Her words were filthy, and her eyes were full of lust as she saw the creamy white ring forming around the base of the toy.

Your brows furrowed as you began to feel overstimulated once more, and Sevika being the attentive woman she was, took it as a sign to slow down. Eventually she slid out of you, and you sighed at the empty feeling. Your eyes fluttered shut as you tried to catch your breath. Sevika pressed soft little kisses to both of your cheeks, your forehead, your nose, and finally a quick one to your lips, not wanting to tire you out anymore than you already were. “You did so good for me, princess.” She whispered into your ear as she brought her flesh hand to cup your face.

“Gonna clean you up now, is that okay?” 

You nodded slowly, your eyes still shut as she untangled herself from between your thighs to clean herself up and retrieve a washcloth for you. When she returned she was in a fresh pair of pajamas and her hair was down. You opened your eyes to take in the sight when you heard her footsteps again. “So cute.” You whispered with a giggle. To everyone in Zaun she was a scary lady, but to you she was your sweet girlfriend who wore big t-shirts and fuzzy pajama bottoms to bed. She just shook her head with a soft smile and settled onto the edge of the bed near your legs. You spread your legs for her and she wiped the inside of your thighs and your sensitive folds. A sigh slipped past your lips and she planted a kiss on your lips as she cleaned every last bit of you. “All clean…” She tossed the washcloth somewhere in the room, she’d put it in the wash tomorrow.

It wasn’t that Sevika wanted to see you in her clothes… of course not! She just wanted you to be warm, that’s all. That’s what she told herself as she slipped one of her sleep shirts over your head. Her heart melted when you poked your head out of the opening of the shirt and met her eyes. She couldn’t resist giving you another kiss. You smiled against her lips before she pulled back to slip a pair of your panties up your thighs and up onto your hips.

The moment you were clothed you dove under the covers, waving a lazy hand to make Sevika join you. Once she did you clung to her tightly, tucking your head under her chin to rest on her chest. Her warm body heated you up, and your eyes fluttered shut. “You sleepy, baby?” Sevika asked even though she already knew the answer.

You hummed a noncommittal noise, just opting to burrow closer to Sevika if that was even possible.

“I tired you out today huh…” 

When she got no response from you she kissed the top of your head and let her eyes shut slowly too. Sleep came easy to her when she had her princess wrapped up in arms.

[blood-smiles]

𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐂𝐎 𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐙𝐄 —-— ‧₊ ᵎᵎ 🍫 ⋅ ˚✮

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐖𝐘𝐄𝐑 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 - !! 18+ MDNI !! yandere . yandere gets down and dirty with darling . Chocolate aphrodisiacs . handjob . probably more . DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT..

The air was warm and the rich people laughing around you with their fancy champagne wasn’t making it any better.

You could just feel the luxury cars, expensive watches and decades of inherited fortune in their cackles.

You walked around like a lost duckling without its mother, you indulged in the chocolate fountains, the mysterious fancy meat and the delicious wine that somehow tasted like the tears of the poor.

You sipped your wine as you stared at a very particular sculpture decorated in jewels and silks, your commoner eyes never quite adapted to the strange and fantastical world of the wealthy.

You tilted your head at the abstract art, what shape did it have? You couldn’t quite put your finger on it. Was this the so called modern art? 

At least it’s a step up from taping a banana to a wall, you thought.

What kind of shape was this? A bottle? A banana? A cat? A curvy rock?

God. This was stressing you out, you were probably putting too much thought into thi—

“I see you are looking at my newest creation. This is my personal interpretation of.. the essence of.. A woman.” The voice of a man drawled in your ear, wow, a woman? You could have never guessed.

the rancid smell of the cottage cheese in his breath fanning right into your nose.

You suppressed the urge to gag and potentially throw up your fancy meat and chocolate coated strawberries on the ugly sculpture.

Instead you covered the disgust you were about to show with a tight smile.

“The curves of her body.. The jewels hanging over her childbearing hips just.. Speak to me.” The man spoke, facing away from you as he shallowly expressed his thoughts, his hands flailing around in the air as if he was the next man to change art.

To you it just seemed like a weirdly shaped rock that had been drowned in very expensive precious stones and jewelry.

But for the sake of his delusions you simply nodded along with his words, trying to distract yourself from his rotten breath.

“You are quite the beauty.. Say, would you like to try these special edition chocolates I have been working on?..” The balding male offered, passing you a single chocolate in his hand.

Well, that was awfully stingy wasn’t it? This man must be swimming in pools of money and riches, surely he can spare more than a measly square of chocolate.

Whatever, hopefully that chocolate will neutralize his disgusting pants.

Your hand reached out, eager to try the grandeur chocolate, only for a larger and slimmer hand to snatch the piece of heaven from the man’s hand.

You gasped, looking up at the aggravator, Alejandro.

The beautiful man shoved the candy in his mouth before you could even open your mouth to whine.

You turned your gaze to the artist, only to see that there was a fat glob of sweat trickling down his face. He had the most ‘oh shit. I fucked up’ look you had ever seen.

“Alejandro! Why would you do that?!” You huffed, pulling at his sleeve impatiently.

“(Y/N). Why are you taking things from strangers. Did we not go over this at home? Do I need to remind you?” Your partner scolded you, tilting his head down at you.

his hair had been styled differently for the event, his hair gathered loosely over his shoulders, flowing down his back in a straight fashion.

“And you.” He glared, his eyes narrowing into a disgusted expression. “Who the hell do you think you are to be offering your repulsive treats to my lover?” 

His garnet eyes almost glowed in anger, a small vein appearing across his jaw. His hands were balled in fists, knuckles straining his skin, veins about to pop.

Holy shit, if you were in the other guys’ shoes you would have wet your pants— Scratch that, your bladder would have unattached from your body and dropped on the ground with a loud splat.

Pretty people really are scary when mad. You furrowed your brows in a grimace, sipping your tasty wine quietly.

The artist fled in a time record, you swear you blinked and only an outline shape of him remained in his place.

You looked at Alejandro, who was staring down at you intensely. His hands shakily landed on your shoulders.

His forehead pressed against your right shoulder. Now what was wrong with him? These little mood swings he has been having lately are proving to be quite irritating.

“..That chocolate.. Was laced..” He mumbled, taking deep shaky breaths. You turned around, eyebrows high in surprise.

“W—Whu..? How do you know?” He simply raised his head, his cheeks glowing with red, eyes half lidded and desperate.

..What the helly.

“Alejandro? Are you okay? Did it have poison?!” You began panicking, grabbing him by his arms. He flinched as if your touch had just burnt him, his posture growing stiff.

He looked down, thighs rubbing together. Heat began pooling in the bottom of his stomach, the tent in his pants beginning to create a wet patch.

“..Aphrodisiac.” He simply said, air coming out in little gasps. Was the drug that strong? It had barely been five minutes since he ate it— How did it work so quick?

He let out a soft sound, leaning closer into your body warmth “..(Y/N), please h-help me..” he begged, long lashes wet with little tears.

“What? Here? Now?” You looked around, maybe this not humble abode had an unoccupied room? You knew you couldn’t leave him in this state.

Not when he was begging so nicely.

You sighed, his fingers interlocked with yours now, gently pulling him along. Your mission was to get him to a room to relieve him with hopefully no casualties.

Someone stopped the both of you, a beautiful woman in a silky red dress with a sensual slit.

“Alejandro! There you are! I have been looking for you for so long!” She giggled, getting on her the tips of her feet to peck his cheek in a greeting.

Ah, you knew her. She was one of the candidates that his parents had groomed for him.

She wasn’t all that interested in him, more like in his fortune.

Alejandro growled under his breath, pushing her away rudely. His mind was fogged with lust but even so he was physically unable to interact with someone that wasn’t you.

“Leave me be.” He cut her off, grabbing your wrist and pulling you with him, leaving the pretty woman in the dust.

You ascended up the beautiful staircase of the mansion, running into one of the many empty rooms.

Alejandro didn’t wait a moment more to strip, his hands working in his tailored coat, then came off his black button up along with his pants and undergarments.

His skin gleamed under the warm lighting, sweat enhancing his already breathtaking figure.

“..Please..” He begged, his violet hair sticking a little to his face, his glasses foggy and stained with tears.

“..aah~..” he shivered, hand coming down to stroke himself, the motion making wet squelching sounds.

He sat on the bed on all fours, putting himself on display, writhing on top of the sheets in discomfort. Even in such a ruined state he somehow still managed to look like model. God really does have favorites.

You didn’t hesitate to sit between his thighs, nails gently teasing the soft plush skin of his inner thigh.

He gasped a little, throbbing under your touch. You traced the beauty marks blessing his porcelain skin.

He was so impatient. He was about to grab your hand and just tell you to touch him. But he knew better, he was to be patient, he knew that you would probably punish him and leave him in this sorry state.

Your hand finally wrapped around his pretty shaft, veins pulsating in need. Pre-cum bubbled from his slit, your thumb cruelly rubbing over his sensitive pink tip.

He let out a high pitched cry, closing his eyes as to try to hold onto the last of restraint he had. 

“Haaan!..” he whined, eyes rolling back into his head, hands gripping the sheets so tight that the fabric could rip from under his grasp.

You sped up your pace, indulging his needs a little. The slick of his cum made your hand sticky, he smiled at that. This was one of his brandings on you, your hands were claimed by him, by his juices—By his love.

Saliva trickled down his jaw, his tongue lolling out from the sheer pleasure. Your hands wrapped around him felt like a blessing, something sacred only reserved for him.

His hips bucked into your fist with a new sense of purpose, his head felt fuzzy, like it was full with cotton.

He felt himself ascending to cloud nine, about to cum. 

“Agh—Nggg~..” he put a hand over his mouth, trying to keep his noises down, hoping that no others had heard him over the loud orchestra downstairs.

Suddenly your fingers intruded inside his ass, curling up inside his hole. He mewled in ecstasy, burrowing himself on your fingers even more.

The tips of your fingers pressed against his velvety walls, his prostrate being poked by your fingers in such a deliciously unfathomable way that he couldn’t help but let himself go.

White semen oozed from his dick, dirtying the expensive sheets in a web of cum. Tears rolled down from his eyes, chest pressed against the soft mattress and plump ass in the air. 

Slick running down his thighs all the way down to his knees. His limp dick twitching after a fulfilling orgasm.

His chest heaved, you could tell he was spent. He turned his gaze to you, opening his arms as if asking you to come lie down next to him on the soft sheets.

You dragged a hand down your face, this man truly is a handful.

The two of you went home not too soon after, but this time making sure not to accept any suspicious chocolate from anyone on the way out.

Your lover pressed a chaste kiss to your temple, silently thanking you for the strange but passionate night the both of you shared.

[dragon-ascent]

Imagine being a sweet, fluffy little creature. Something friendly, adorable; a bunny perhaps. Wayward and free and no concerns save for where your next head of lettuce will come from. You hop and hop and hop and find yourself barreling straight onto a well-polished, crease-free shoe.

When you look up, you meet two warm pools of amber, crinkling at the corners as the tall human gazes down at you with all the kindness of a sun kissing a flower field.

Before you can shimmy off his footwear and carry on your merry way, you are scooped up and brought to face level with him. You wiggle, because air jail is not very fun, but quiet down when you see the man's gentle smile.

"Hello, little one," he murmurs, and you think his voice sounds like if you had gone digging and found a fresh trove of bananas and squeaky toys. "Where did you come from?"

You blink; your nose twitches. You don't respond, mainly because you are a bunny and therefore cannot speak. So you stare at him, taking in his handsome features. His face looks like it could use a few nibbles.

Naturally, he takes you home, because you'd said not a word of protest. It's a comfy place, full of high-end vases and trinkets and tea caddies you will enjoy pushing off their mahogany tables when you have the chance. The fancy drapery ought to be chewed as well. It smells like osmanthus flowers here. You're hungry.

The man slips his gloves off, revealing smooth hands carrying a faint gilded undertone, like he's something far greater than what he appears to be. He gives you what he calls a 'bath,' in a tub full of water carrying a faint eucalyptus scent. He scrubs you thoroughly and you love the way he scritches your ears just right. All the dirt from rolling around all day goes down the drain, literally, but you don't mind it much. You smell like soap and you like soap. (It's not edible, unfortunately: you tried nibbling it when he wasn't looking and had to spit it out.)

After the bath he dries you off with a soft and fluffy towel, almost as fluffy as you are. He's very tender in his actions, never rough. He hums softly as he gets you nice and dry. You flop your ears in tune to his humming; he chuckles lightly and boops your nose.

You hop onto his bed, hoping to stain the fine velvet sheets with some puke, but he scoops you up again and plops you on his lap as he settles among the cushions. "Tired?" he asks you, caressing your soft head.

Your nose twitches and you curl up. You don't want to puke on him.

The man takes that as invitation to tell you a story, words flowing seamlessly into each other. You don't understand a thing, but he's petting you and it's nice. He's rubbing under your chin and that is wonderful. Every time his hand ceases its ministrations you paw at him and he resumes his affections without complaint, without pausing his narration.

Your eyes close in bliss as you snuggle into him for more warmth. The tea caddies can wait until tomorrow to be pushed; the tablecloths can be chewed another time.

[seokmn]

SLIPPING THROUGH MY FINGERS ₊˚⊹ ࿔

pairing: seokmin x fem!reader wc: 1.4k words warnings: none lua's note: in brazil, the birthday person gives the first slice of cake to a special person to them

"sometimes i wish that i could freeze the picture and save it from the funny tricks of times"

It was your son’s birthday, also known as Seokmin’s happiest and most depressing day of the year.

You and Seokmin woke up early to make the most amazing breakfast for the little boy with all the foods he absolutely loves.

“Honey, are you already crying?” You dropped the bowl and got closer to your husband, hugging him from behind and tilting your head to take a look at the tears threatening to flow down his cheeks. “No, it’s the onion, darling. I’m okay.”

“Oh, Seokmin,” you pouted and held back a smile. “You’re cutting bananas and strawberries.”

He let out a little laugh, feeling a bit ridiculous of how bad and stupid his lie was. “You know I get a little bit emotional on this day.”

“I know, I know,” you pecked his cheek before stepping back and paying attention to the bowl once again. “It’s cute, did you know that?”

“I just hate accepting that he’s growing up. Soon enough he won’t need my help anymore, I’ll be a useless dad for him.”

“That’s so not true, he will always see you as his precious father that would do anything to see him happy.”

Seokmin sighed and wiped his tears with the back of his hand before just focusing on his task of cutting the fruits.

Once the breakfast table was set, you went to your son’s bedroom and started singing the happy birthday song in a low tone to not scare him. The sight of your now 5 years old boy smiling even before opening his little eyes made your heart melt and even tear up a little bit.

“It’s my birthday…!” He said while sitting up in bed and looking at his parents with shiny eyes and a huge grin

“Yes it is, my big boy,” Seokmin hugged him as if the boy would fade away if he let go of him. “Happy birthday, buddy.”

“Are you hungry, sweetie? Mommy and daddy made breakfast for you,” your voice was softer than usual as you took in the sight of the boys of your life hugging each other with so much love in their hearts.

Your son’s eyes lit up as he looked up at you and broke the hug, leaving the bed in a matter of milliseconds and rushing to the breakfast table, letting out a loud woah when he saw the table full of his favorite foods.

“I won’t make it until the end of the day.”

“Get it together, my love,” you patted Seokmin’s back. “Get it together.”

He took a deep breath, took your hand in his and followed his son.

[…]

His birthday party was amazing to him, it was a baseball themed birthday party. A passion he shared with his dad that you have always found it so cute.

He spent the entire day playing with his friends while you and Seokmin talked to your friends and the kids’ parents. You couldn’t even count the amount of times someone talked to Seokmin, but he didn’t listen because he was watching his son from afar, watching him having fun with his friends and not with his dad. It hurt him, but it also comforted him somehow.

Ever since you gave birth to your son, Seokmin never left his side. He grew up very attached to Seokmin, which was fine, since he never failed to let you know he loves you as much as he loves Seokmin.

Your husband wants to see the kid grow up well and loved, to become a respectful man in every aspect, but it also hurts him to see his little baby growing up so fast right in front of his eyes. It makes him feel like he’s losing him little by little.

“Hey,” you spoke up softly, rubbing Seokmin’s thigh to gain his attention. Once he looked at you, you smiled. “Go ask him and his friends to come over, it’s time for the cake.”

“Sure, my love,” he took your hand, intertwining your fingers with his before kissing the back of your hand and letting it go. “I’ll be right back.”

You stood up and started to place the candles on the cake. The guests were starting to gather around the table while waiting for the birthday boy to arrive so they could start singing the traditional birthday song.

You looked to the side and saw the kids running and Seokmin giving your son a piggyback ride towards the table.

Everyone sang along while you and your family stood on the other side of the table, Seokmin holding the boy close to the cake. “Okay, buddy. Make a wish and blow out the candles!”

The little boy shut his eyes for a moment and blew out the candles, clapping along with the guests right after. You took a slice of the cake, placed it on a plate and gave it to him. “Who is going to receive the first piece of cake, sweetie?”

“Hmmm, mommy and daddy! Because I love you and I love being your son!”

Seokmin, who was holding back his tears since the boy blew out the candles, couldn’t fight back anymore and started to cry. Some of the guests chuckled at the heartwarming sight as you took the plate to free your son’s hands and let him wrap his arms around his dad’s neck and tell him to not cry.

You fed your sobbing husband a piece of the cake and laughed when you heard him humming. “The cake is delicious,” another sob left from his mouth. “I love you so much, my little boy.” Seokmin hugged him tighter before looking at you and bringing you closer, hugging you as well.

[…]

“Good night, sweetie. Mommy promises you that you’ll open all of your gifts tomorrow morning after breakfast, okay? Sweet dreams.” You placed a kiss on his forehead.

“Okay, mommy. Good night! And tell daddy to stop crying so much, I don’t like seeing him crying. He always cries a lot on my birthday.”

“He only cried that much today because he loves you so much that his love overflowed and it came out as tears, but I’ll tell him to stop crying so much, if that’s what you want.”

He immediately shook his head, a pout forming in his lips. “If he cries because he loves me, then if you tell him to stop crying he will stop loving me… I want daddy to love him forever.”

You chuckled, finding his thought so endearing. “He will never stop loving you, silly, just like I will never stop loving you. Pinky promise.”

“I will never stop loving you and daddy too, mommy!”

You kissed his forehead once again and smiled. “Pinky promise?”

“Pinky promise!”

You patted his head and left his bedroom after turning off the lights. You walked towards the living room, knowing that Seokmin would be waiting for you on the couch, probably with the remote on his lap.

“Is it time?” You sat down beside him, linking your arms around his and resting your head on his shoulders.

“I was just waiting for you, can I press play?”

“Yes.”

Seokmin pressed the play button on the remote and a video of your son starting playing on the TV. Every year Seokmin would make a compilation video about your little boy with videos and pictures of him followed by the song Slipping Through My Fingers by ABBA. He knew that that song was about a mom and his daughter, but everytime he listened to it, he would cry thinking about the boy.

The video started with your son as a little baby and ended with the last video he recorded of the little boy being 4 years old. And you know that next year will be the same thing, but it’ll end with the last video Seokmin recorded of him being 5 years old.

“He’s growing up so fast,” Seokmin said between his sobs after the video ended. “Why can’t he be 3 forever?”

You kept your head on his shoulder and started to caress his hand while tears streamed down your face. The video held so many emotions, it felt like it was yesterday that you gave birth to your son, but it’s been five years.

“But he will always be our little boy in our eyes, no matter what.”

“You’re right, love,” Seokmin hugged you and kept crying with his face hidden in the crook of your neck. “He will always be our little boy.”

[kpop---scenarios]

Reckless (1)

Pairing: Lee Know x Reader

Genre: Brothers best friend

Warning: Language, a little violence etc, smut later on

Word Count: 3k

“Jisung!” You yell from your room, covering your ears with your pillow. If he didn't shut the fuck up, you were going to lose it. “Jisung!” You scream again. Angrily, you crawl out of your bed, stomping your way across the hallway to his room. You try to open the door but the door is locked. You pound on the door, anger flowing through you.

“Open the door!” You yell, pounding even harder. Finally the door swings open, your brother looking annoyed.

“The fuck do you want?” He asks, rubbing his face.

“I have an exam tomorrow. I can't sleep with the fucking music coming from your room.” You yell. “Shut the fuck up.”

“Wear some headphones then.” Jisung scoffs.

“I swear to fucking..” you pause, as Jisungs best friends comes to the door.

“Feeling feisty tonight, are we?” Minho chuckles, moving past your brother and out of his room.

“Yeah I am, watch out.” You snap, stomping back to your room, slamming the door behind you.

Your parents had been gone for months for work, and unfortunately for you Jisung had decided to slack off at school despite school only being in for 3 months. He was partying constantly and having his degenerate friends over at the house all the time. Lee Know, or Minho was the worst of them all and he never fucking left.

He was an arrogant, annoying, selfish, violent, short tempered man who you disliked the most out of all Jisung’s friends. The two of them were a few years older than you, both supposed to be in University but the way things were currently going, you didn't know how much longer either of them were going to be enrolled. You however were in your first year at the same University and you were not going to take your opportunity for granted. You wanted to get out of this town and move away onto bigger and better things.

As the volume of the music is finally lowered, you get comfortable in your bed, easily falling asleep, finally.

The next morning you're up early, deciding payback was much needed for keeping you up half the night. As you're hopping around your room, singing along to your loud music, getting ready for class, you faintly hear a pounding on your door. You laugh to yourself as you make your way, ripping the door open, seeing an annoyed Minho standing there, shirtless with a pair of sweats on.

“It's 7am.” He deadpans.

“And?” You ask.

“I've been sleeping for 2 hours.” He groans. “Turn it down.”

“That sounds like a you problem.” you begin. “Also, last I checked, this isn't your house.” You smile, closing the door in his face before he can say anything. You head to your stereo, turning the music down, for a few minutes until you felt like he was comfortable in bed again, starting to doze off and you turned it up again. Not long after you turned it off completely, heading to the kitchen to grab a banana before you headed to the bus stop. You wanted to get to school a little earlier than usual, taking time to go over your psychology notes for your exam, one last time.

“Y/N.” You hear from behind you in the library. You turn around, seeing your best friend, Hyunjin, standing there with bags under his eyes, holding a mass amount of papers, and looking extremely uneasy.

“Hyunjin.. what happened?” You ask, trying not to laugh at the poor man looking so defeated.

“it's literally the 3rd month of school, and I'm going to fucking flunk out.” He gasps, sitting next to you.

“No you're not.” You chuckle, flipping over your notes to look at the backside.

“I tried to study all night but I kept falling asleep. Why did I come here? I hate it.” He pouts. You shake your head at the man, focusing on your notes.

“Well.” You sigh. “At this rate, I'll be failing with you. Minho was at my house again last night. He and Jisung were blasting music until all hours.” You say, rolling your eyes.

“Minho was at your house?” Your other friend, Jisoo gasps, pulling up a chair beside you. “You're so lucky.”

“He's so fucking annoying.” You retort.

“But he's so hot.” Jisoo grins.

You ignored her last comment, you didn't want to vocally agree with her, because the last thing you needed was for your words to get back to him and inflate his head more than it already was.

“And to be honest, so is your brother. Is he single?” She asks.

“He's single. But I'm going to tell you not to go there because I don't want you to stop being my friend.” You laugh. “He's a terrible human being.”

“But he's hot.” Jisoo swoons, batting her eyes at you.

“Gross.” You sigh, looking at your phone. You gather your things off the table, dragging Hyunjin behind you to your psychology classroom.

“Please, Y/N.” He begs from behind you. You turn your head to look at him, giggling at the pitiful man who is usually so confident. This exam really has him fucked up. You turn your head again to look where you're going, and bump into someone, knocking your papers and bag to the floor.

“Ugh, I'm so sorry.” You sigh, bending down to pick up your things. You look up, seeing Minho glare down at you. You roll your eyes instantly, scoffing. “Actually I'm not sorry.” You say, finishing picking everything up. You stand up, Minho still staring at you but now smiling. Hyunjin comes up beside you, swinging his arm around your shoulders.

“Come on.” He says, pulling you away from Minho, who still hadn't said a word to you, but the smile never left his face.

“You got this.” You say to Hyunjin, your hands on his shoulders as you both take deep breaths outside your classroom door.

“So do you.” He breathes. “Drinks after?” He asks. You glance at your watch, 12:58pm. You should be done by 4pm..

“Abso-fucking-lutely.” You grin as the two of you make your way into the class.

3 hours later, you both emerge from the room, disheveled hair, sweat and tear stains present on both of you.

“How did..” Hyunjin starts. You put your hand up to stop him.

“Not yet. Shots..lots of shots.” You whimper. The two of you link arms, heading for the pub down the street from campus.

Hours later, you stumble home. As you stand in your yard you see lights flashing inside, and you can hear the bass thumping from the street. Jisung would throw a party on a random Thursday. That's just what he does. You quickly text Hyunjin and Jisoo to come over and party with you, both of them replying that they'll be there soon. You head inside, your brother spots you immediately.

“Y/N.. it's only just started. Don't shut me down.” He fake cries. You glare at him, seeing Minho walk up behind him. A few of his other friends were standing around, a lot of other people you didn't know also staring at you.

“Let's do some fucking shots!” You yell, making your way to the kitchen, hearing the cheers from the party goers. You walk past a chuckling Minho on your way to the kitchen. You glare at him before grabbing his sleeve, pulling him in there with you and a few others to take some shots. As you're about to do your second one, Hyunjin and Jisoo walk in. You were already drunk from your after exam drunks with Hyunjin, and now you were feeling it even more.

“Jinnie.” You squeal, putting your arms out for a hug. He grins as he wraps his arms around you, holding you tightly. Instantly you hear Jisoo’s flirty voice come to play, you break the hug to turn around and see Jisoo and Jisung tucked in a corner talking.

That made you want to vomit. You turn back towards the group taking shots, quickly pouring one for Hyunjin before you all take it. “Let's dance!” You yell, walking past Minho with Hyunjin in tow. You're dancing, laughing and just all around having a good time but you can't help but notice Minho standing against the wall with his arms crossed, eyes trained on you. They roamed up and down your body as he watched you dance, and you hated that the way he was looking at you, that the way he was biting his lip was turning you on so much.

“I'm gonna get a drink.” You tell Hyunjin, making your way to the kitchen. You feel a hand on your wrist, pulling you down the hallway instead.

“You looked really hot out there.” a guy tells you. You have no clue who this dude was, and frankly you were not interested.

“Thanks.” You respond, turning back towards the kitchen.

He grabs you again. “I wasn't done talking to you.” He half laughs.

You can feel the annoyance building up inside of you. “But I'm done.” You say, trying to walk away again. His grip tightens, pushing you against the wall.

“I'm trying to get to know you better.” He scoffs. “Don't be so rude.”

“I'm not interested.” You tell him, as if your current lack of interest wasn't enough.

He stares at you, refusing to move, not saying a word. You can see the wheels turning in his head as he tries to figure out what to say to you next. Before he can get his words out, he's shoved away from you, sliding down the floor of the hallway. Your mouth hangs open as you turn to look and see who your savior was.

Minho stands there, his eyes practically shooting daggers into the man.

“Are you fucking dumb, Changbin?” Minho asks.

“What the fuck, dude?” Changbin scoffs, scrambling up off the floor.

“That's Jisung's little sister you fucking moron.” Minho snaps, pointing at you.

“Oh shit.. I'm sorry! I didn't know!” He panics. Your eyes bounce between the two men, not sure why Changbin sounded so scared of your idiot brother.

“I'll let you off this time.” Minho starts. “If I catch you near her again, I will beat the fucking shit out of you.” He finishes. Changbin nods his head before running off into the crowd.

“You okay?” Minho asks as you rub your wrist. You nod your head.

“Yeah.. thanks.” You smile, returning to the party. The rest of the night, wherever you went, Minho was there, off in the distance watching you. You weren't uncomfortable from it but you did wish that he would go and enjoy himself. He didn't need to keep an eye on you, and as you got drunker, you decided to let him know.

“You.. keep staring.” You hiccup, placing your hand on the wall by his head. He smirks as he looks at you, barely able to stand up straight, eyes fluttering open and closed. You were a goddamn mess.

“Let's get you to bed, mhm?” He says, wrapping his arm around your waist to help you up the stairs. As you're walking up, you unfortunately see Jisung and Jisoo locking lips, making all the drinks you had all night threaten to come up.

“Get a room you sick fucks.” You slur, walking past them. Jisoo comes up for air looking embarrassed but only for a second before Jisung steals her attention back. Minho helps you to your room, you stand in the middle, your arms up high. He looks at you with a raised eyebrow, wondering what the fuck you were waiting for.

“I can't sleep in my clothes.” You whine. “but I'll fall if I undress myself.” You pout.

Minho reluctantly walks towards you, grabbing the hem of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head, leaving you in a bra and your pants. He moves his hands down towards the button of your jeans. You hop back a little, almost losing your balance as you laugh, hysterically.

“Funny.” He fake chuckles, moving towards you again. You grab onto his arm, spinning yourself around to his back, sliding your hands up and down his body. You reach around to his stomach, moving your hands under his shirt, running them over his abs.

“Ugh.” You groan at the feeling.

He quickly turns around facing you once again, a smile spread across his face. You knew he wanted to be mad at you but he couldn't.

“Take your pants off or I'm gonna throw you down onto the bed and take them off for you.” He threatens. You blush, hard.

“Is that a threat or a promise?” You ask, cocking your head to the side. Minho reaches out for you, grabbing you by the waist of your jeans, pulling you towards him. “It's a little of both.” He tells you as he tries to undo your button. You were having too much fun in the moment, you didn't want it to end just yet. You grab his hands, pushing him away from you, laughing as he runs his hands through his hair. He has never seen this giggling playful side of you before, and he was enjoying the fuck out of it.

“Y/N.” He says sternly, his hands on his hips.

“Minho.” You say, putting your hands on your hips, pushing your hip out, pursing your lips. He's trying to remain serious but he can't. He starts laughing as he rubs his face, groaning in frustration.

“Take off your pants!” He yells.

“Yes sir!” You giggle as you take off your pants, leaving you in your bra and panties. Minho hands you a pair of pj shorts that he grabbed from your dresser. You semi quickly put them on before turning around, facing away from him to unhook your bra. It slides down your body, onto the floor. You smile to yourself.

“I bet you're upset, huh?” You giggle, turning your head to look at him.

“Why would I be upset?” He asks.

“Cause you can't see my boobies.” You laugh, turning slightly to show him a little side boob. “I think you'd like them.” You say, looking at him. His eyes are focused down, looking at what you're showing him. “Tsk tsk, naughty boy.” You scold, slipping your shirt on, turning around to face him.

He stares at you, and you stare back. You examine his face, his large veiny arms and hands, his roughly tousled hair.

“Jisoo was right.” You whisper.

“About?” He asks.

“You.” You hiccup. “She said you were hot.”

“And what did you say?” He asks.

“I didn't say. Cause I don't need my words going to your thick ass head.” You giggle.

“If they wouldn't go to my head, what would you say?” He asks.

“That you're really fucking hot. But you're a little violent and hot headed.” You sigh. “Buuut you're not allowed to know that so shhh.. cause Jisung said you're off limits.”

“Since when do you do what your brother tells you?” He laughs.

“I listen to him!” you say. No you didn't. “Actually, never.” You hiccup.

He doesn't reply. He stands there, staring at you. You can feel your breath hitch as he moves closer towards you, the palm of his hand gently laying on your cheek as his face moves closer to yours. You close your eyes, the world is spinning as you feel his lips press against yours. You feel like you're melting into the kiss as your lips move against his, his tongue slowly sliding into your mouth, deepening the kiss.

You could have sworn this was a dream, like his lips were perfectly made for your own. He slowly pulls away, turning to look at the door, and that's when you hear it.

“Minho!”

It's your brother's voice. “Lee fucking Know!” He yells.

“Go to sleep.” He says to you, turning and walking out of your room. You lay down in your bed, closing your eyes. The world only spins for a moment before you pass out.

**

“I'm never drinking again.” You gasp as you crawl out of your bed, desperately trying to make your way to the bathroom to get some water. Your throat was the driest it had ever been and you felt like you might actually die. Once you reach the sink, you shove your head underneath, drinking all the cold water you could get into your mouth. Fuck it tastes good. When you're finally satisfied, you drag your feet to change into some comfier clothes before heading downstairs. Luckily you didn't have class until the afternoon today, so you could try to recover this morning. You grab some food from the fridge, eating it cold, ignoring the passed out people scattered around your house.

“Morning.” You hear. You turn to look, seeing Minho walk into the kitchen, heading for the fridge.

“Morning.” You sigh.

“Hungover?” He asks you, grabbing some juice. You whimper as you nod your head. He laughs. You turn to glare at him, when suddenly you remembered. You think you remembered at least.

“Did..” you pause. “We.. um.. actually nevermind.” You say, turning away from him.

“Did we, what?” He asks, grinning.

“Kiss?” You whisper, looking around, making sure Jisung wasn't around.

“Me and you?” He asks, shocked. “Did you have a sex dream about me?” He gasps, placing his hand over his chest.

“What!? No! I just had a flash.. of something.. and we were kissing.” You try to explain.

“I feel so violated.” He fake cries. “I wasn't aware you thought of me like that.”

“Who's thinking of you like what?” You hear. Jisung walks into the kitchen, grabbing your food off the counter.

“Y/N.” Minho says. “I think she's into me.” He laughs.

“Yeah right.” Jisung chuckles. “Neither of you are dumb enough to do that.”

You look at Minho as he looks at you. Neither of you were dumb enough.. right?

[queensunshinee]

His favorite toy- Part 2 || Art Donaldson x reader

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Warnings: SMUT (p in v sex, oral sex), super toxic relationship.

Word Count: 6.5k

(part 1)

His favorit toy- Part 2:

Two months have passed since the last time Art and I fucked. Although it wouldn’t be fair to call it that, because I don’t fully know what it was. I only know he said he thinks he loves me. Neither of us made the minimal effort to rekindle any kind of relationship. I kept sitting with Janet and Shane, and he stayed in his place next to the friend he invented.

Occasionally, if I focused, I could feel his gaze on the back of my neck, but maybe I was imagining it. Maybe I also imagined his declaration of love, maybe I lost my grip on reality for a moment. Maybe more water needs to flow under this bridge. Maybe Tashi Duncan needs to be his, like he is hers, so I can stop dreaming about him at night. How did I become so dependent on the emotions of a girl I have no desire to exchange a word with? How did I lose someone I’m not sure was ever mine? And more than anything- what made me spend so much time in this endless whining?

A few days after that party, Luke sat next to me in one of the classes we share. He looked so good that if I close my eyes, I can imagine it's Art. A remarkably pathetic thought, but it works. Except he isn’t cruel. He doesn't try to deceive me or lead me to the point he wants me to reach. He’s interested in me and my hobbies, and sometimes he walks me from class to class, but in these two months, he hasn’t made any move beyond placing his hand on my shoulder. Maybe he thinks I have lice. Maybe he thinks I won’t be good enough in bed to risk our boring conversations about the eco-intro professor.

Maggie, the girl I work with, canceled at the last minute, so I ended up alone at the smoothie station and the register. I took comfort in the fact that it's exam season and not too many Stanford students would prefer to stand in line for a smoothie instead of grabbing a spot in the library on a Sunday night. "The usual?" I heard Art’s voice and lifted my gaze from the book I was reading. I blinked at him a few times, as if trying to figure out if I was imagining his smug smile. Maybe it wasn’t smug, maybe that's just how he always smiles when he sees me. Like he knows a secret he’ll never tell me. "I..." I tried to hold onto the reality as I knew it, "I don’t remember," I smiled without showing teeth, half-forced.

"Peach—" he stopped himself in the middle of the stupid nickname. Apparently, he understood from my look that it wasn’t appropriate after two months of radio silence. "Almond milk, banana, pecan, and coconut," he mumbled. "That’s $4.50," he nodded. I wondered if he was surprised, because I’d never asked him to pay before. I’d always used the free smoothie I got during my shift on him. "How a—" he started to speak, and I turned on the blender, seeing out of the corner of my eye that he was smirking and shaking his head. "Fair," he muttered. "Here’s your smoothie. Goodnight," I handed him the cup after a few seconds, with the most forced smile I could muster. He rolled his eyes in response and sat down in one of the empty chairs.

"What do you think you’re doing?" I asked. "Sitting and drinking my smoothie, obviously," he spoke again as if I were two years old. Like I needed him to mediate reality for me because I couldn’t understand it on my own. "Do you see anyone else sitting here?" I asked. "Just because the tables are empty because it’s ten at night and you’re working in a cafeteria-" he began. "This isn’t a cafeteria. It’s the—" "Doesn’t mean I can’t sit at one of the tables and drink my smoothie. Or are there new rules I’m not aware of?" I rolled my eyes in response. Smug dickhead. I was definitely not going to give him a second of my time. I went back to the book I was reading for my philosophy exam, trying to ignore his presence but realizing I was reading the same sentence five times in a row.

"What are you studying?" he asked after a few minutes of silence. "Why are you doing this?" I threw the question back from behind the counter, sighing in frustration. "What am I doing?" The usual smirk was plastered on his face. "Why are you here on a Sunday night, Art?" If I could stomp my foot to express protest, I would. "Because you’re here on a Sunday night." The smirk turned into a smile. I couldn’t tell if it was sincere. I never know if he’s sincere.

"What do you want?" I rolled my eyes and sighed, realizing he wasn’t going to leave. I knew he was stubborn in an almost inspiring way (or nauseating, depending on who you ask) and that he was always at an advantage with me. He always had the last word. All I had left was to let him say it quickly and move on with life. "To ask how you're doing?" he half said, half asked. He sounded hesitant, but I knew he wasn’t. I knew he was as confident as any other day. He knew exactly what he was doing. "Amazing. Anything else?" I found myself crossing my arms under my chest and saw him, without shame, shift his gaze, well… to my chest, raising an eyebrow.

"Arthur!" I felt like I was his aunt as he shook his head, almost playfully. "I missed you, Peaches. Is that so hard to believe?" He chuckled, still completely shameless. "Well, I didn’t." That was the first thing that came to mind, and the face Art made, along with the eye roll, only emphasized how much he didn’t believe me. "Why are you so mad at me?" His voice was amused as he approached the counter with his smoothie, grabbing the book I was reading without asking. "What course is this?" "Philosophy," I snatched it from his hand, and he grabbed mine with the speed of an athlete who works too much with his hands. "Let go," I muttered, not sure if I wanted him to release my hand or release me. But I was scared he'd agree and disappear again, and that was so fucking pathetic. "Never," he replied, keeping his gaze on me and giving my hand a squeeze. "It’s not fair, Art," I hated how my voice sounded. "What’s not fair?" he asked, tracing small circles on my hand the moment he felt me relax the muscle that had been trying to pull away from his touch. "What you're doing right now," I sighed. If he weren’t in front of me, I probably would’ve started crying out of frustration. "What am I doing right now?" The smirk was once again plastered on his face. "Trying to convince me everything's okay between us," I hesitated, and he shook his head from side to side. "Nothing's okay between us, Peaches. I hate it. I actually hate it. I think about you 80% of the day. Every time I want to talk to you, you're either with your friends or with Luke." He wrinkled his nose as he said his name.

"Why do you know his name?" I asked, studying him. "Because I looked him up, and I'm telling you, Peaches, he's fucking weird—" "You're fucking weird," I shot back, and he laughed, trying to move the hair from my face with his free hand. "Well, maybe you like us weird, maybe you've got a type," he tried to joke, making me roll my eyes. "Who said I like you, Donaldson?" I tried to defend myself, and Art wasn’t laughing anymore. He wasn’t smiling either. He just looked at me, not letting me read his expression. His hand, which had been playing with mine, tightened its grip, and his gaze locked onto me as if I was on trial for the words that just came out of my mouth.

"Let’s study for the statistics exam together tomorrow?" He changed the subject, not breaking his intense gaze. "Art—" "Study for the exam. Just that. I won't pass it if you don't help me," he flashed his most charming smile. The one he fakes in seconds. The one he uses for interviews with the Stanford magazine and in photoshoots for the tennis team posters. "Study with Dylan," I suggested, raising an eyebrow, referring to the imaginary friend he chose to sit with instead of me. "You want me to beg?" he asked, poking my shoulder with his finger, causing me to shift slightly but still not letting go of my hand. "Maybe," I teased. "I can. My ego will survive if you study with me for statistics tomorrow." He said it quicker than I expected.

"I have a philosophy exam at eight. Can you do twelve?" I asked. "I can when you can. Where’s the exam? I’ll wait for you," he said. "Meet me at the economics library. There’s a room where you’re allowed to talk if you’re working in groups," I explained my choice. "That’s ridiculous. Let’s study at your place or mine—" "We’ll study at the library, take it or leave it," I stated firmly, even though the temptation to go to his dorm was strong since he never invited me. We always went to mine. "Library it is," he agreed. "What’s your philosophy exam about?" he asked, finally letting go of my hand, which had been holding the book I was studying from. "Aristotle and eudaimonia. What he thinks about happiness," I muttered, opening my notes again. "What does he think about happiness?" Art asked, leaning on the counter. "You wouldn’t get it," I smiled at him, and saw him nod with a somewhat thoughtful look, as if his combative spirit and desire to argue had evaporated the moment I agreed to study statistics with him. "Tomorrow at twelve, Peaches. Don’t break my heart and ditch me," he threw into the air, leaving the booth with the same dramatic flair he had when he entered. . . . I walked into the economics library, which was packed with people. Art was already sitting there, messing with his phone more than with the notes in front of him on the table. He hadn’t noticed I’d entered, giving me the chance to observe him. His blonde curls fell over his eyes in a way that likely bothered him. He was wearing his red tennis outfit (the one I liked the most, I should mention) and looked carefree. He always seemed too relaxed, maybe that’s how it is when everything comes to you with an ease that’s almost disgusting.

"You need a haircut," I muttered the first thing that came to mind as I approached, seeing him look up immediately. "Hey," he said, smiling from ear to ear, "I saved a spot because I knew it’d be crowded," he added. "How long have you been sitting here?" I asked as I took the seat next to him. "Since about ten," he chuckled, probably at himself, "How was the exam?" he asked. "Long. Have you gone over any of the material?" Yesterday, I decided I’d be practical. I’d promised to help him, and honestly, I always understood the material better myself when I explained it to him. And if Art Donaldson could take advantage of my knowledge in statistics, then I could take advantage of the situation too. Not just him. "A little, I pretty much lost track in the middle of the course." Art had taken this course as an elective. I always found it funny because who takes statistics as an extra class when it’s not even required for their degree?

"What, Kevin didn’t let you copy his notes?" I looked at him with a raised eyebrow, and he lightly tapped my shoulder. "You’re mean. Since when are you so mean?" he responded with a humor I couldn’t fully read, unsure if he was joking or if part of him actually thought there was some cruelty in me. Maybe it was the philosophy exam I couldn’t shake off. Obsessive thoughts about happiness and potential. "I’m going to get myself some coffee, want me to bring you something?" I asked, changing the subject. "Sit down, get settled, I’ll get it for you," he nodded toward me and stood up, not giving me a chance to refuse before he disappeared from my sight, leaving me alone.

Art Donaldson will be the end of me. I’m certain of it. "My brain is fried, Donaldson. I can’t look at any more averages," I summed up after two hours of studying. "Yeah? Already gave up?" he asked, amused. "I remind you that I had an exam today! I don’t think I’ve eaten anything other than my own brain," I tried to remember what I’d actually eaten today. "So let’s go eat something," he smiled. His eyes practically sparkled. "Art," I sighed, resting my head on my hand. "What? We can’t go have lunch?" he asked with mock innocence. Speaking to me again like I was a child. Like I didn’t understand what he’d already figured out long ago. "No, of course not," I wanted to smack him on the head as if he were the dumbest person I knew. "I can’t let you stay hungry, Peaches, my grandmother would be mad at me," he quickly replied. Where was your grandmother every time you humiliated me to the core? Every time you made me feel empty and stupid? So stupid. "Your grandmother will survive," I rolled my eyes. "She’s a very sick woman, you don’t know that. I’ll tell her I let you starve and she’ll have a stroke. You won’t be able to live with that on your conscience. You’ll drag us into lives full of guilt—" "Okay, you’re giving me a headache, God," I mumbled, standing up. Art Donaldson’s smug smile returned to his face in an instant.

That’s how I found myself sitting across from him at the fancy cafeteria for athletes, eating nuggets after the woman working there flirted with him and gave me a threatening look. "Don’t hate Rosie, she always gives me extra pie," he said after I pointed out that she looked at me like I was the reason the Beatles broke up. "Because she wants to sleep with you," I rolled my eyes. "So she has a reason to look at you like that. Makes sense," he replied with a chuckle. "Okay, what is this?" I dropped the nugget I was holding and pointed between us as I leaned back in my chair. "What?" he continued eating as if nothing unusual was happening. "What are you doing, Art?" I asked, feeling my leg start to shake out of frustration.

"I’m eating and making sure you’re eating," he replied, taking another bite of his food, as if we were having a completely normal conversation. "We’re not going to fuck again just because you invited me to eat nuggets at the cafeteria, you know that, right?" I blinked at him, trying to signal that he was delusional. "Of course not," he said, leaning back in his chair as well. "I have principles, Donaldson," I continued. "I know," he smiled. "I’m not some girl you found on the street that you can treat however you want, disappear for two months, invite her for nuggets, and she’ll take off her bra just so you can vanish again until the next time you’re horny," my voice rose a bit, despite my effort to keep it calm. I saw his jaw tighten, his expression shifting from amused to cold. "Is that what you think this is?" he asked, and all I could do was shrug.

"It’s not like you’ve given me any reason to think otherwise, Art," I looked at him and felt that if I stayed there much longer, I’d start crying. "I told you that I lo—" he began, but I stood up. "Thanks for lunch, it’s definitely nicer than the regular cafeteria," I forced a smile, and he closed his eyes. "You didn’t eat anything," he replied. If I focused, maybe I could have seen his frustration growing. But I was trying to focus on not crying. Art Donaldson’s ego didn’t deserve to see me cry over him again. "I’m really tired, I need to sleep a bit before my shift," I mumbled. "Will you come to my match tomorrow?" he asked quietly. "Art—" "You don’t have to, but I’m saving you a seat, okay?" he cut off my answer, not wanting to hear a refusal, maybe not believing there was a bone in my body capable of saying no to him. . . . And it’s a little pathetic how I ended up walking onto the tennis court the next day, giving up the last shred of my self-respect. I was surprised to see how many people showed up to these things, especially at the end of exam season and right before the break. The place was packed.

‘You came’ -A- I got his message and tried to look around, searching for where he might be. ‘Down on the court’ -A- I could practically see his smirk in the words. I glanced toward him and shrugged. ‘Front row, saved you a seat next to Patrick’ -A- he added.

‘What the fuck is Patrick?’ -(Y/N)- I replied, not moving toward where he told me to go.

‘A friend. Please sit there.’ -A- He answered shortly. ‘Want to lift my head and know where you are’ -A- And when he says things like that, I almost forget how cruel he can be. So I find myself rolling my eyes and walking toward the seat he saved for me.

"Are you Patrick?" I mumbled, feeling my cheeks flush from the awkward interaction with the guy sitting next to the empty seat. "Depends who’s asking," the curly-haired guy responded, flashing a mischievous half-smile. I can see why they’re friends. Fucking twelve-year-olds in the bodies of twenty-year-olds, how is that even possible?! "Don’t be a dick," we heard from down below, and I turned to see Art approaching us. "Who’s this?" the guy I didn’t know asked, as if I wasn’t standing right there—seriously, rude as hell, but whatever. "Patrick, behave," Art wasn’t joking, not even smiling, scolding him like you’d scold a misbehaving pet. "You came," Art looked me over, grinning from ear to ear. "Don’t let it go to your head, I had some free time," I muttered, sitting down. Art nodded. "Will you stay after the game?" he asked. I think it was the first time Art had to look up to talk to me. "I don’t know, I need to keep studying for statistics," I answered. "Me too," he replied. "We’ll study together," he shrugged, not giving me a chance to respond before he walked off, taking his position. Getting ready to serve.

“Interesting,” the guy next to me said. “What exactly?” I asked, rolling my eyes and still not looking at him. “You, of course,” I could hear him smiling. “What’s so interesting about me?” I kept staring into the air, unsure if I should focus on Art, who still hadn’t started playing, or the phenomenon sitting next to me. Arrogant, just like the blond guy who’s been emotionally torturing me for months. “Well, first of all, I’ve never heard of you. You’re a surprise,” he said as if it was obvious. And it stung a little, even though I knew the chances of Art talking about me were slim to none. “Maybe you’re the problem, Pete,” I muttered, snapping my fingers like I was trying to recall his name. “Patrick,” he corrected, laughing, making me look at him. He had a loud laugh, unapologetic. I knew his name was Patrick, and he knew I knew, but he still found it amusing.

“Maybe you’re the surprise,” I told him. “He doesn’t talk about you either.” I tried to sound unaffected, like everything was fine. The game started, and Art looked distracted. Maybe he always looks like that when he plays tennis- I’ve never watched his games before, he’s never invited me. “You’re supposed to watch the other side too,” Patrick whispered in my ear, causing me to roll my eyes. “Hey, Stats Girl,” I heard the familiar voice of Tashi Duncan just before she sat next to Patrick, cursing the day I decided to trust Art Donaldson and show up at his game. “The one and only,” I muttered with the best smile I could muster, feeling myself blush at the ridiculous nickname she gave me. “How’s he doing?” she asked Patrick. I wondered what their connection was. “He’s good, you know, as usual. Ice.” he replied, and they started talking quietly about the game, about Art, and about the opponent.

All I could think about was how good Art looked. He looked as if everything came to him effortlessly, as if he didn’t need to try for anything—everything just happened. And I knew that wasn’t true, I knew he worked hard, trained, ate properly, invested in his studies, and that he was probably a good grandson and a good friend. He was good to everyone except me. “Are you enjoying the game?” Tashi asked, pulling my gaze away from Art for a moment. “Huh?” I asked, not understanding what she wanted. “The game, are you enjoying it? He’s playing well,” she clarified. “Yeah, he’s really good,” I mumbled. I didn’t know what else to add to make it sound convincing. “Leave her, Tash. She doesn’t know anything about tennis, she’s his cheerleader,” Patrick answered her, snickering. I shot him a murderous look. “Patrick, don’t be rude,” Tashi said, “I’m sorry about him, he doesn’t know how to behave around people,” she turned to me, as if he wasn’t there. “It’s fine,” I replied, feeling my leg start to shake from the frustration. They went back to talking about the game, and I suddenly felt how pathetic it was, showing up to watch him play. To come and see him in his element, when he wasn’t part of my life anymore. When his friend sat next to me, mocking me to my face. “I’ll be right back…” I mumbled, walking toward the exit. I had no intention of coming back. . . . Two hours later, there were chaotic knocks on my door. “You left,” Art walked in without waiting for an invitation the second I opened the door. He looked angry. “I told you I didn’t know if I’d stay, I have an exam tom-” “Bullshit. What’s your deal? Why did you come?” He practically shouted as I closed the door. “You asked me to come,” I mumbled. “I also asked you to stay, but you left in the middle, so what was the point of you coming?” He crossed his arms. I don’t think I’d ever seen him this angry. He’s always calculated and calm. “Did he say something?” he added, asking a question. “What?” I returned, not understanding what he was talking about. “Patrick, did he say something to you? Why did you leave?” He asked again, speaking to me like I was a child. “He didn’t say anything to me. I left because I didn’t understand what I was even watching. I don’t know anything about tennis, Art, and I have an exam to study for,” I tried to justify. “Enough with that exam. I heard you studying for it yesterday, you know the material, we both know you know it.” He sighed. “I didn’t ask you to come to give tennis commentary. I asked you to come because I wanted you in the crowd. I wanted to see you in the crowd,” he continued. I could hear the effort in his voice to keep it together, to not lose control.

“Tashi was in the crowd; that should be enough for you,” I muttered, lifting my gaze to him, seeing that he was already staring at me. We had never talked like this about Tashi. She had always been this figure hovering above us. He talked about her constantly, unrelated to anything. He talked about her like she was a god. He talked about how she played tennis, about her training, how she helped him. He talked about parties he only went to because Tashi wanted to go. But I never responded in a way that would let him understand that I knew. That I wasn’t completely clueless. That I knew he was completely in love with her. That he loved her the way I loved him and that nothing would change that. “Oh, so that’s the problem. You could’ve started with that. It bothered you that Tashi was in the crowd?” He chuckled. He fucking chuckled. “Why did it bother you?” He moved closer to me, and I had no choice but to avert my gaze from his piercing blue eyes, which felt like bullets at that moment. “It didn’t bother m-” “Look at me.” He was close enough to grab my head and turn it back to face him. “I asked you a question,” he added, not letting me escape. And if there’s anyone I didn’t want to talk about, it’s Tashi Duncan.

“Why did you invite me? Why did you want me in the crowd?” “Because I wanted you to see me play,” he answered without blinking, as if it was obvious. As if there wasn’t a single question I could ask him that he wouldn’t have an answer for. “You love Tashi, Art. You lo-” His lips were on mine the second I said it. Again, there was nothing calm or calculated about this kiss. He was trying to prove that he didn’t, that I was wrong. While we both knew I was right. “You can’t say things like that, Peaches. You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he mumbled as he pulled away from me to catch a breath. “It’s okay that you love her. I’ve made peace with it. I just need you to let me move on, Art,” I sighed, trying to catch my breath again. “I don’t fucking love her.” He was angry; I could hear it in his voice. “What do I have to do to make you understand that you’re the only girl for me?” He kissed me again, and I could feel him getting hard from the way he pressed against me, causing me to moan into his mouth. “Yeah? Is this the only way I can get through to you? Is this the only way you believe me?” he asked, running his lips down my neck. "Art," it was half a moan, half a cry. My eyes closed, and as they did, I felt the weight of his hands on my shoulders, pulling me down until I was on my knees in front of him. I unbuttoned his jeans and quickly pulled down his boxers. I felt almost possessed as he sat on the edge of my bed, forcing me to crawl toward him. “There we go. Is this the only way I need to treat you for you to understand your place?” he muttered as I knelt before him again. I felt a light slap on my cheek from his cock, much more humiliating than painful. “I asked you a question,” he continued.

“N-no,” I mumbled. “Even your voice is annoying me right now,” he muttered, and without warning, I felt his cock in my mouth. He didn’t give me a moment to adjust, punishing me for leaving the match, maybe for bringing up Tashi, maybe for everything combined. You could never tell with him. I felt him hitting the back of my throat, and I tried to suppress my gag reflex with little success. Three months since he’d been in my mouth showed signs. “Shhh, you can do better than that,” he half-stroked my hair, half-held me in place by it. Then he pulled me back, leaving a trail of spit and precum. “You’re such a mess,” he chuckled, and again I felt a light slap of his cock against my cheek. I put my lips back where I knew he needed them the most, and this time, there was no gentle stroking of my hair. There was only a hand forcing me to stay in place as he used my mouth however he wanted. “Nothing to say now, huh?” he said, not very coherently, as I began to feel the warm, thick liquid spill into my throat. “Atta girl,” he patted my hair twice before letting me pull back.

I stood up slowly, trying to catch my breath. “Come here,” he mumbled, pointing to his thigh. I can’t refuse Art Donaldson, so I sat on his lap, placing my hands on his neck in an almost embrace, watching him smile. “Why is everything so hard with you?” he muttered, and his lips lazily found my neck. “I just don’t know what you want from me,” I responded, trying to focus on anything other than his lips currently on my collarbone. “I told you I love you,” he mumbled, his eyes locking onto mine. “You don’t mean that,” I shot back.

“Oh yeah?” His smirk spread across his face, and in seconds, he tossed me onto the bed as if I weighed nothing. He was above me. “For now, the one acting like a brat is you,” he said, his presence casting a shadow over me like a predator playing with its prey. “The one who left in the middle of my match is you.” His lips again left trails on my skin. I don’t even know when he took my shirt off. I felt a light bite on my nipple that made me moan. “Fuck, fa- Art,” I mumbled, unable to focus. “The one avoiding interaction with my friends is you.” His hand joined in, starting to torture my other nipple as his kisses moved further down. “I’m not,” I managed to respond, just as he easily removed my panties.

His breaths hovered over my pussy, short and hot, and if I didn’t know Art Donaldson so well, I would’ve thought he was looking up at me with almost a pleading expression. But he was in complete control. A small kiss on my lips, but not where I really needed him, made me shift my hips a little, and he chuckled- a laugh that was almost childlike. “Hey, ask nicely,” he managed to say, and I returned to the position I had before, legs around his head. “Please, Art,” I knew there was no point in arguing; he always got what he wanted in the end. “No problem, baby,” in seconds, his tongue was on my clit, starting slowly with circular motions and picking up speed with every moment. “There you go, you’re almost there,” he muttered, pulling back just before I could come. “What-” I tried to catch my breath again, craving the euphoria only he could give me at that moment. “I want to be inside you,” he answered without waiting for the full question, and in an instant, his cock filled me, making me moan. “Fuck,” I managed to mumble, feeling my eyes roll back. “Hold on a little longer, Peach,” he said, slipping his finger into my mouth like he liked to do, watching my lips close around it. “Now,” he muttered, pushing it deeper into my throat while he thrust into me, feeling me tighten around him like only an orgasm from him could make me do.

He fucked me stupid. There’s no other way to describe what I experienced, and as we both tried to catch our breath, I wondered how long it would take for him to leave this time and what his excuse would be. “Don’t you have practice tomorrow?” I quietly asked, trying to throw him off balance for a moment. “No, but I don’t know anything for the stats exam,” he admitted and chuckled. “Art! I taught you all the material yesterday,” I rolled my eyes. “I can’t concentrate when you’re teaching me.” “Then why did you ask for help?” It was my turn to laugh. “Because you’re the most beautiful when you’re in your element,” he shrugged like it was obvious. Like hearing me talk about statistics would make him fall in love with me. Like it wasn’t what I felt two and a half hours ago when he played tennis, until I almost choked on love.

“When are you going home?” he asked, probably knowing my last exam was in statistics. “I’m not,” I replied casually, and he quickly shifted positions. “Why the hell not?” he asked, and I saw a small wrinkle form between his eyebrows. “It’s no big deal, Donaldson,” I chuckled, “I picked up extra shifts, and I have a paper to work on. Speaking of shifts, I need to get ready for mine.” I added as I checked the time. He watched me as I walked around the room, trying to decide if I smelled too much like sex to push the shower until after work. “Are you coming to the study marathon tomorrow before the exam?” he asked, starting to get dressed too. “Of course,” I looked at him like he was crazy. “Don’t think about skipping it, Art. You need it,” I said, knowing exactly who I was dealing with. “Okay, Mom,” his voice was amused, and I rolled my eyes, looking at him for another moment. We don’t get too many moments like these. Almost domestic. Almost mine.

"Hey, we're good, right?" he suddenly asked, holding my hand and not letting me continue running around the room. "Yeah, Art, everything's fine," I smiled half-heartedly, feeling a bit embarrassed. "Because I don't want another two months like these," he muttered, and I knew it was hard for him to admit. It was hard for him to say that the past two months had been strange, to say the least. Difficult, to be honest. "Me neither." I nodded at him. "When are you flying home?" I asked as we were both already outside the door, after I had locked it. "Four hours after the exam, I’m supposed to be on a flight," he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Wow, two weeks at home, excited?" I asked. "Not that much, mostly glad I get to visit my grandma. She follows my matches with her entire retirement home, it’s a big deal for her." "Ooooh, you've got fans, Donaldson?" I joked. "You know I do," he replied. "Seriously though, why aren’t you going home?" he added. "It’s not that deep, just an opportunity to make some extra money. Plus, my mom and I aren’t in the best place right now," I shrugged, as if it wasn’t a big deal. "Don’t you miss home?" he asked. "Not like most people probably do," I smiled at him. "I hate it when you smile like that," he said and suddenly stopped. "How?" I asked, looking at him as if he were crazy. "Without teeth. That’s your fake smile," he replied without blinking, as if it were strange that I was even asking. "I didn’t think you noticed," I mumbled. And I really didn’t think there was a possibility that Art Donaldson paid attention to details that, until now, I thought only I noticed about him. "I’ll see you tomorrow at the marathon?" he asked when we reached the point where I was supposed to head to the cafeteria and he to his dorm. "Don’t be late," I ordered, giving his face a small push, watching him chuckle and walk away from me. . . .

The next morning, I woke up with the worst headache I’d ever had in my life. I felt my nose was blocked, and I knew for sure I had a fever, though I had no way to measure it. 'Where are you?' -A-

'Sick, I’ll come for the exam' -(Y/N)-

'What’s wrong with you?' -A- I didn’t respond to that message, preferring to sleep a bit more before waking up for the statistics exam.

I got in the shower, and when I got out, I looked at myself in the mirror, seeing my flushed cheeks as a contrast to my pale face. There was no mistaking it when you looked at me- I wasn’t at my best. The auditorium was partially full when I entered, people chatting among themselves, and I looked around, seeing Art already staring at me before he approached, getting ahead of Janet, who shot me a questioning glance. "Well, you look like shit," he stated, placing his hand on my forehead. "Fuck, Peaches, you’re burning up," he muttered, looking at me with an almost angry expression. "How did you manage to start dying in the minute and a half I left you alone?" he said. "I’m talented, Donaldson. Can you not yell? My head hurts," I mumbled, sitting in the empty seat I found.

The exam went smoothly and ended faster than it began. I physically couldn’t wait for Art to finish, so I texted him, hoping he’d enjoy his time at home, and I went to sleep. Half an hour later, there was a knock at my door, chaotic like the one from the day before. "Hey," he muttered. "You’ll miss your flight," I replied, running a tired hand over my eyes. "I’m not flying," he said quickly. "What?" I asked, not understanding what he was talking about, seeing him take off his shirt and pants, left only in his boxers. "Art, I physically can’t have sex," I chuckled, not understanding what was happening. "We’re going to sleep," he declared, pulling me toward him, leaving me no choice but to get into bed next to him. "Your bed’s worse than mine. Tomorrow we’ll sleep at my dorm," he stated.

"You're going to get sick too" I rolled my eyes, "Why aren’t you going home?" I asked quietly, while his hand traced shapes on my shoulder. "It felt weird going home when you’re sick and staying here," he replied, not ashamed for a second. "Your grandma must be disappointed," I mumbled. "I told her my girlfriend is sick," he said. I wanted so badly to see his face, but I had my back to him. "She must’ve been surprised you have a girlfriend," I said the first thing that came to mind, feeling my heart race. "Not at all, I talk to her about you all the time."

. . .

So here it is. The second part I didn't plan. Hope you like it even tho I wrote half of it while being super sick and didn't check my own grammar at all, so bear with me (a reminder: English is not my first language). Let me know what you think. It's always the best part. Also, I think I'm up for some requests. Let's see what we can come up with. Love you guys

[hd-junglebook]

My Sunshine

Part 1 - rewrite of the original

Warnings - pregnancy, flirting, verbal abuse, gaslighting, slight mention of prostitution, unwanted pregnancy, abortion, crying, banana muffins

a:n I'm so in love with the way that this came out, I could literally faint. I want to this man. ferally. In the most respectful way that I can put it. Had me giggling like a SLUT. Like look at that face, come on..

Masterlist Link

GIF by jonasiegenthaler

Summary: Y/N reminisces about her past, the faint memory of her hateful mother as reality starts to really sink in. Along comes jack and his giddy smile, eager to get to know our dear sunshine.

Word Count ~ 4k

1 month later

10:00am

The doctor's voice cuts through the heavy silence, their tone professional yet laced with a hint of warmth. "While we wait for the results, can you tell me the date of your last menstrual period and any potential dates of conception?"

Y/N takes a deep, steadying breath, her mind instantly transported back to the haunting echoes of her mother's cruel words. The memories feel so visceral, as if the scenes are playing out before her eyes once more.

"I wish one day, you could see why I raised you the way I did. You're so weak, gullible, and always so goddamn sensitive. It's pathetic, really." Her mother's voice drips with disdain, the familiar sting of her judgement cutting deep.

Y/N can practically feel the weight of her mother's disapproving stare, the contempt burning in her eyes. "Just like your useless father, y/n. You've never been and will never be good enough, not like me."

"You will need me one day, when you have a baby, you're gonna wish I was the one there helping you, holding your hand. But I won't be, because you've always been a disappointment, a burden I never wanted." The thought of facing motherhood without the unwavering support she so desperately craves fills Y/N with dread.

"I hate you, y/n, and I wish I would've gotten rid of you when I had the chance. I never regretted anything more than letting your useless father talk me into keeping you. I lost my whole life raising you - I slaved and sold myself to put food on the table, all for you ungrateful little shits." The bitterness in her mother's voice is palpable, a raw wound that has never fully healed.

Forcing the memories to the back of her mind, Y/N provides the doctor with the requested information to the best of her recollection.

A knot forms in her stomach as the details flow from her lips, a painful reminder of the intimate moments with Jason - moments that had once filled her with such joy and hope, but now only serve to heighten her anxiety.

The doctor nods, jotting down the notes on their clipboard. They continue the conversation, their tone gentle and understanding, offering Y/N a sense of comfort in the midst of the emotional turmoil.

After what feels like an eternity, they excuse themselves to check on the test results. The room falls silent, save for the ticking of the clock – each second a countdown to the life-changing news that awaits Y/N.

When the doctor returns, they have a file in hand. Taking a seat beside Y/N, they meet her gaze, their expression softening with a warmth that puts her at ease, even as her heart races in anticipation.

"Y/N," they begin gently, their voice filled with empathy, "the urine test came back positive for hCG. Congratulations, you're pregnant." The doctor pauses, studying Y/N's face for a moment before continuing. "I understand this may be an overwhelming time, but I want you to know that we're here to support you every step of the way."

Y/N feels her breath catch in her throat, the news hitting her like a physical blow.

Part of her had hoped, prayed, that the results would be negative, that the at home test she took a few weeks ago were wrong, that she wouldn't have to face the daunting prospect of motherhood, especially without Jason's support.

But now, as the reality of her situation sinks in, she can't help but feel utterly alone, trapped in the shadow of her mother's cruelty. Following down the same path she did when she was 18 but only she was 23, grown, and by herself.

"What am I going to do?" she whispers, tears falling to the ground.

A sudden movement in front of her face snapped Y/N out of her trance, her body jolting in response. "I'm sorry," she blurted out, hastily wiping the tears from her eyes.

The doctor slid back onto his stool, a warm smile on his face as he handed her a stack of pamphlets. "I’m very happy for you," he said, mistaking her tears for joy. "Here are some resources for young mothers. I know this must be an exciting, but overwhelming time. Please don't hesitate to reach out if you have any questions or concerns."

Y/N stared at the man, momentarily confused, until the reality of the situation came crashing back.

…

11:30am

Y/N stood in line at 'The Brew' coffee shop, the warm, inviting aroma of freshly brewed coffee enveloping her like a comforting embrace, soft Russian music playing over the stereo. The rich scent of roasted beans mingled with the subtle sweetness of vanilla and caramel, instantly lifting her spirits.

As she waited patiently, her eyes wandered to the man next to her, who seemed lost in thought. He was engrossed in a conversation on his phone, his brow furrowed in concentration, creating a series of deep lines that etched themselves into his forehead.

He shuffled his feet nervously, the movement causing the light to catch on the polished leather of his shoes. His gaze flickered to the menu before him, a brief moment of indecision flashing across his face, and Y/N found herself wondering what could be troubling him.

Unable to resist the urge to learn more, she stole a glance at him, admiring the way the soft, golden light of the café danced across his features. The angles of his jawline were sharp and defined, a stark contrast to the soft, inviting curve of his lips that seemed to beckon her closer.

As if sensing her gaze, he suddenly turned, and their eyes met. In that instant, the world seemed to slow down, the bustling noise of the café fading into the background as Y/N was enveloped in a moment of pure connection. His eyes, a mesmerizing blue, held her captive, sparkling with a hint of mischief that ignited a spark within her.

A confident smile spread across his face, and he leaned away slightly, speaking into the phone. “Alright Lukey, I gotta go.”

"Hey, you're my neighbor, right?" he asked, the recognition evident in his tone. "You live on Baker Street?"

Y/N blinked, surprised by his sudden acknowledgment. "Yes, I do."

Yet, as she spoke, Y/N felt her shyness begin to melt away, like frost under the warmth of his unwavering gaze. There was a magnetic pull to this stranger, an allure that she found herself inexplicably drawn to.

"I'm Jack," he said, extending his hand towards her. His movements were fluid and graceful, his arm cutting through the space between them with a sense of purpose.

As he reached out, Y/N couldn't help but notice the way his fingers flexed, the tendons in his hand shifting beneath his skin like the strings of a finely tuned instrument.

Hesitating for only a moment, Y/N slipped her hand into his, relishing the gentle firmness of his grip. "It's nice to meet you, Jack," she replied, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of her mouth as she held his gaze, unwilling to be the first to break the connection.

He leaned against the counter, his gaze locked on Y/N, as if she was the only person in the crowded coffee shop. "I've been wondering when I'd get the chance to officially introduce myself."

Y/N felt her cheeks flush with heat, suddenly keenly aware of his undivided attention. "I, um, I'm not usually one for small talk," she admitted, her words coming out in a flustered jumble.

Jack chuckled, the sound low and rich. "Lucky for you, I more than make up for that." He flashed her a dazzling smile, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief. "I'm quite the chatterbox, as I'm sure you're about to find out."

Caught off guard by his confidence, Y/N found herself relaxing, drawn in by his easy charm. As the line moved forward, she fell into step beside him, her shoulders brushing against his as they approached the counter.

"So, what's your order of choice?" Jack asked, his gaze sweeping over the menu. "I'm a bit of a coffee connoisseur myself."

Y/N blinked, momentarily flustered by his proximity. "Um, usually anything caramel flavored, I think," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m leaning towards tea today though.”

Jack's lips curved into a grin. "Excellent choice. A classic, just like you."

"Can I have a banana muffin? And whatever she's getting, we're together." Jack said, flashing the barista a charming smile.

The barista nodded, punching in the order as Y/N stood there, momentarily stunned by Jack's gesture. She managed to give a small smile, her heart pounding erratically in her chest.

"After you," Jack said, gesturing towards the pickup counter. He placed a gentle hand on the small of her back, guiding her forward.

Y/N felt a shiver run down her spine at his touch, her nerves alight. As they waited for their order, Jack turned to her, his sapphire eyes sparkling. “Just a green tea please. And a banana muffin too.” She added, meeting jack’s eyes for a second.

"Such a gentleman," y/n teased. Jack laughed, flashing her a wink. He turned towards the seating area, gesturing for Y/N to follow. "Come on, let's find a cozy spot."

Y/N felt herself being drawn along by his infectious energy, her feet moving almost of their own accord as she trailed behind him. He led them to a small table by the window, pulling out a chair for her before taking a seat across from her.

She didn’t know what to do with herself as she took the seat he offered, settling in across from him. The way he was looking at her, with such open curiosity and intrigue, made her heart race.

"So, Y/N, tell me - what brings you to this fine establishment on this lovely day?" Jack asked, leaning back in his chair and regarding her with a playful smile.

Y/N felt herself relax slightly under his warm gaze. "Just my usual coffee run, nothing too exciting," she admitted shyly.

"Ah, but any day that starts with a chance encounter like this is anything but ordinary," Jack countered, his eyes twinkling. "You've got nowhere else to be, right? No urgent errands or appointments calling your name?"

Y/N shook her head, a small smile playing on her lips. "No, nothing pressing that I can think of."

"Excellent." Jack leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table as he studied her intently. "Then you won't mind if I take the opportunity to learn more about the mysterious neighbor from Baker Street?"

…

Jack's eyes crinkled with delight as the barista arrived with their order, setting down a steaming latte in front of Y/N and a banana muffin alongside it.

"Ah, perfect timing," he said, flashing the barista a grateful smile. The scent of the baked treat mingled with the rich aroma of coffee, creating a tantalizing combination that did little to calm her already frazzled nerves.

Glancing down at her phone, she quickly typed out a message to her friend Heather, her fingers trembling slightly. 'You're never going to believe this, but this unbelievably gorgeous guy just bought me a coffee and we're sitting at a table together! I'm honestly freaking out right now - I have no idea what to do.'

She hit send, her fingers trembling slightly as she placed the phone back on the table, unsure of what to do next.

Y/N couldn't help but sneak a peek at Jack, who was leaning back in his chair, a warm smile playing on his lips as he took a contemplative sip of his own coffee. The way the morning light danced across his striking features only served to heighten his already captivating presence.

 "So, Y/N, what do you do for a living?" he asked, his gaze warm and curious. "I have a feeling there's more to you than just your 'usual coffee run'." His gaze latched back onto hers, his eyes sparkling with genuine curiosity.

Y/N felt heat rise to her cheeks at his words, both flattered and flustered by his obvious interest. "Well, I, uh, I sometimes write for a sports magazine," she stammered, her heart fluttering erratically. "And I'm also working on a couple of novels in my spare time."

Jack's face lit up with delight, and he leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table as he studied her intently. "A writer, huh? That's incredibly impressive. What kind of sports do you cover?"

"A little bit of everything, really," Y/N replied, slowly beginning to relax under the warmth of his gaze. "But I do have a particular fondness for hockey as of recently. There's just something about the intensity of the game that I find absolutely captivating. The fighting, the crowd, just a mix of all of it."

"Hockey, you say?" Jack's eyes gleamed with unbridled enthusiasm. "Well, as it happens, I'm a bit of a hockey player myself. I actually play for the Jersey Devils as a defenseman."

Y/N's eyes widened in genuine surprise, her earlier nerves temporarily forgotten. "What! Well, tell me about it. Do you enjoy it?"

Jack chuckled, the rich sound sending a shiver down Y/N's spine. "Well, then I'd be more than happy to regale you with tales of my hockey exploits." He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "But only if you promise to share some of your own stories in return."

She extended her pinky, a silent invitation, waiting for him to entwine his with hers, sealing their promise in a tender gesture.

Jack gently raised his hand to the table, his eyes fixed on hers, as he tenderly entwined his larger pinky with hers, sealing their promise with a heartfelt gesture.

The two fell into an easy conversation, trading stories and sharing their passions. Y/N found herself captivated by Jack's easy charm and infectious enthusiasm, and before long, the lunch rush began to fill the coffee shop.

"Maybe I should let you get back to your day," Y/N said reluctantly, glancing around at the growing crowd, a twinge of disappointment tugging at her heart.

But Jack's eyes held a glimmer of pleading, and he reached across the table, his fingers brushing against hers in a gesture that sent electricity coursing through her veins.

"Or you could stay a little longer?" he suggested, his voice low and hopeful. "I'm quite enjoying our chat, and I'd hate for it to end so soon."

Y/N hesitated, her heart palpitating in its cage. This was all so unexpected, but there was something about Jack that made her want to throw caution to the wind.

Taking a deep breath, she offered him a shy smile, her nerves and excitement mingling in equal measure. "You know, I think I'd like that. And maybe, if you're free sometime, we could, um, grab dinner?"

Jack's face lit up with a dazzling smile. "I'd love nothing more," he said, quickly pulling out his phone. "Here, let me give you my number. I can't wait to take you out."

As Jack typed away, Y/N felt a surge of giddiness. This was all so new and exciting, and she couldn't help but wonder where this chance encounter might lead. One thing was certain, though – she was more than ready to find out.

Jack made her feel - seen, heard, and utterly captivated.

…

14:00 pm

I debated including this, but I felt so giddy and in love with writing I couldn’t help it. I’m just a sucker for some pure love.

***A gentle breeze caressed her face, carrying with it the scent of springtime The world around her seemed to burst with vibrant color - the lush, verdant hues of the trees, their leaves rustling softly in the breeze.

The myriad shades of pink and purple adorning the blooming flowers that lined the sidewalk, and the vast, azure sky overhead, dotted with wispy clouds that danced languidly across the heavens.

It was as if the entire city had been painted with a master's brush, each detail a testament to nature's radiant beauty.

Reaching into her bag, she pulled out her camera, her fingers trembling with excitement as she began to weave through the bustling streets.

In the nearby park, she captured the laughter of happy families, their faces aglow with pure, unadulterated joy as they swung gleefully on the playground or tossed a Frisbee back and forth, their movements fluid and carefree.

Further down the path, a lonely man sat on a bench, tossing a well-worn tennis ball to his faithful canine companion. As the dog bounded after it, his tail wagging furiously, a warm smile spread across the man's face, his eyes crinkling with a contentment that seemed to radiate outwards, touching all who witnessed the tender exchange.

Y/N couldn't resist the urge to capture these fleeting moments, her camera shutter clicking rapidly as she sought to preserve the beauty that surrounded her.

Every step she took seemed to reveal another breathtaking sight - a young couple sharing a picnic lunch on the lush, verdant grass, their bodies intertwined as they leaned into one another's embrace, and a group of elderly friends chatting animatedly on a park bench, their laughter carrying on the gentle breeze.

Each snapshot felt like a love letter to the world, Y/N's heart swelled with a sense of wonder, her steps light and airy as she continued her walk home.

With each snapshot she captured, she couldn't help but see the reflection of Jack in the scenes that unfolded before her.

The joyful laughter of the families in the park reminded her of the way Jack's eyes had crinkled with delight during their conversation. The lonely man's smile as he played with his dog mirrored the warmth and kindness that Jack had exuded so effortlessly.

And the tender embrace of the picnicking couple evoked the gentle way Jack's fingers had brushed against her own, sending electricity coursing through her veins.

It was as if the entire world had conspired to remind her of the captivating man she had just met, weaving his essence into the very fabric of her surroundings.

Y/N found herself wondering what she and Jack must have looked like, huddled together in the cozy coffee shop, their heads bent close as they shared stories and laughter like old friends.

The thought brought a smile to her lips, and she couldn't help but feel a sense of giddiness at the realization that this chance encounter had the potential to blossom into something truly special. Jack's colors had painted the world around her, and she couldn't wait to see what other hues he might bring into her life.***

…

14:30 pm

Y/N closed the door behind her, the solid wood frame pressing against her back as she leaned into it, letting out a deep, contented breath.

A smile slowly crept across her face, unbidden and unwilling, as she buried her face in her hands, momentarily overcome by the whirlwind of emotions swirling within her.

Slowly, almost reverently, her hands drifted down to her stomach, fingertips gently caressing the barely-there swell that held the promise of new life.

"Maybe this can be good for us," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking the words aloud would somehow make them more real.

Suddenly, a flash of self-consciousness washed over her, and Y/N felt a flush of embarrassment creeping up her cheeks. Had she really just been giddily daydreaming like some lovestruck schoolgirl?

The moment of levity was short-lived, however, as a familiar voice broke the silence, cutting through the haze of her thoughts.

"You just gonna stand there and be weird, or are you gonna come sit down?" Heather said, a teasing lilt in her tone.

Y/N's head snapped up, a sheepish look crossing her features as she nodded and made her way to the couch, her steps tentative and uncertain. "Sorry, I, uh, I was just..." Her voice trailed off, unsure of how to even begin explaining the maelstrom of emotions that had overtaken her.

Heather watched her fondly, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "You're being strange today," she observed, her tone laced with affection. "But I can't say I'm surprised, considering what you told me earlier."

Y/N could feel the heat rising in her cheeks as she settled onto the cushions, her movements almost cautious, as if she were trying to contain the giddiness that threatened to spill out.

Unable to keep the grin from spreading across her face, she shook her head in a half-hearted attempt to downplay her excitement. "I know, I know," she said, the words tumbling out in a rush. "It's just... I haven’t felt this way in a long time and it’s exciting, you know?"

Heather chuckled, reaching out to give Y/N's hand a gentle squeeze, her eyes crinkling with warmth and understanding. "I can see that.”

…

19:47 pm

Later that night, Y/N ran her fingers lovingly over the smooth surface of her stomach, the gesture almost reverent as she finished her nightly cleansing routine.

Just as she set down her phone, the familiar chime of a new message caught her attention, and a giddy smile instantly blossomed on her face as she saw Jack's name on the screen.

Sinking into the soft cushions of the couch, Y/N eagerly opened the message, her heart fluttering with anticipation.

"Hey there, beautiful," Jack's text read, the words sending a flutter through Y/N's chest. "I was just thinking about you and that lovely smile of yours. How about we make it a date tomorrow night? I know this amazing little Italian place that I think you're going to love."

Y/N's fingers hovered over the screen, poised to type a response, but a twinge of hesitation gripped her. The news of her pregnancy weighed heavily on her mind, a secret that both excited and frightened her in equal measure.

She knew she should tell him, but doubt crept in, insidious and persistent. After all, she and Jack weren't even officially dating yet. Their relationship, while promising, was still new and undefined.

The thought of burdening him with this life-altering news so early on felt unfair, potentially derailing the tender connection they had begun to forge. What if the prospect of fatherhood sent him running?

Shaking off her doubts, Y/N decided to throw caution to the wind. "A date, huh? Well, you certainly know how to sweep a girl off her feet," she typed, adding a flirtatious wink emoji for good measure before hitting send.

Almost immediately, her phone chimed with Jack's response, and Y/N could practically hear the warmth and charm in his voice. "Only the best for my favorite writer," he replied, followed by a string of heart-eyed emojis. "I'll pick you up at 7 sharp. Dress to impress, beautiful."

Y/N couldn't help but grin, a giddiness bubbling up inside her. "It's a date," she replied, adding a playful wink emoji for good measure.

As she set her phone aside, Y/N couldn't help but marvel at the whirlwind of emotions coursing through her.

Just hours ago, she had been a bundle of nerves, unsure of how to navigate this newfound connection. But now, with Jack's invitation in hand, she felt a renewed sense of excitement and possibility.

Sure, the news of her pregnancy was daunting, but she couldn't help but wonder if, just maybe, this could be the start of something truly special.

After all, Jack had already shown himself to be a charming, attentive, and genuinely interested companion. Perhaps, with a little bit of courage, she could find the right moment to share this life-changing news with him.

…

Tag List <3

@fearfam69691 @alwaysclassyeagle, @rebelatbay, @dancerbailey3

@snailss, @dasiysthings, @shawnshoney

[xi4oyan]

Ah... I missed the war

Above the thick veil of golden clouds, in gardens where flowers were born already singing and fish soared in schools of impossible colors, you existed — or rather, you survived — between naps too long and sighs even longer.

Your temple, lost in the forgotten fringes of the Celestial Court, was a chaotic sea of scattered cushions, abandoned scrolls, and half-eaten bowls of eternally fresh fruit.

Your robe? A spectacle of glorious negligence: ancient blue fabric embroidered with tiny stars, the silver threads frayed at the edges. The sleeves, far too wide, dragged across the marble floors as if trying to clean them for you. There were even rumors that tiny fairies had built a nest in your cloak folds, but you never had the courage (or energy) to check.

You had once been an important deity, yes. Guardian of the tides, or perhaps of that faint gleam before dawn? Something like that.

But time had the nasty habit of smudging memories... and even faster, of making others forget.

So when the Jade Emperor — in the middle of a loud meeting filled with shouting and alarming reports about "that infernal monkey" — pointed his gleaming scepter at you and commanded:

"Go. Calm that monkey."

You nearly fell off your cushion from sheer surprise.

"Me?" you blinked. "Are you sure?"

Maybe he wasn't.

Maybe he had simply pointed to the first person (or deity) awake enough to react.

But orders were orders.

And so you descended from the Celestial Heights, floating on a misty platform, yawning so hard you scared golden crows from a distant temple.

༶•┈┈┈┈༶•┈┈┈┈༶•┈┈┈┈

The mortal world was warm and dusty, filled with the scent of burnt grass and tired flowers clinging to the lazy breeze. The sky looked like a vast golden lake, and beneath it, atop a wind-swept hill, a lone group stood against the horizon.

Tripitaka, dressed in light robes and wearing an expression that shifted between patience and existential exhaustion, gazed into the distance.

Zhu Bajie fanned himself dramatically with a banana leaf large enough to be used as a ship's sail.

Sha Wujing remained as still as part of the rocks.

Yulong, in his horse form, snorted as if rethinking every decision that had brought him here.

And there, a little apart from the group, burning like a private sun, was him.

Sun Wukong.

He looked carved from ember and storm: golden armor cracked and dented by countless battles, the red headband flowing like the tail of a stubborn comet. His golden eyes sliced the air — too alive, too dangerous, too free for Heaven’s tastes.

You adjusted your crown — an absurdly oversized thing that sank on your head as if meant for a giant king — and walked toward him, your sandals crackling over the dry ground.

"So you're the famous... furry inconvenience," you said, hands tucked behind your back, tilting your head like inspecting a suspicious fruit at the market.

Wukong raised a furry eyebrow, a crooked smile carving across his face.

"Sent another babysitter for me, huh?"

You chuckled. "Not exactly. I prefer to think of myself as... a stubbornness inspector."

And so it began.

Instead of spears and thunder, your duel with Wukong was made of sharp words, ridiculous faces, and side-long taunts. You lounged on a sunbaked rock while he balanced lazily on tree branches above, both tossing barbs like they were sweets.

You quoted ancient celestial regulations.

He answered by mimicking your voice in falsetto.

You pointed at divine conduct treaties.

He threw ripe mangoes at you, with the perfect aim of someone who once knocked down generals with pebbles.

And somewhere in the middle of it all, something strange happened.

The group... started getting used to your presence.

Tripitaka offered small, patient smiles.

Sha Wujing, ever courteous, brought you fruits or found you shady spots to nap in.

Zhu Bajie stole your snacks but laughed as he did so, which was almost a form of affection.

Yulong huffed and grumbled but no longer flinched whenever you approached.

And Wukong?

He laughed at you, mocked you, but sometimes — sometimes — his gaze would find yours with something dangerously close to tenderness.

༶•┈┈┈┈༶•┈┈┈┈༶•┈┈┈┈

Meanwhile, high in the heavens, the Jade Emperor observed, increasingly alarmed.

"Erlang Shen!", he barked, summoning his ever-reliable warrior, "go fetch them! That deity is getting distracted!"

Thus, Erlang Shen descended like a polished thunderstorm: gleaming armor, crimson cloak slicing the air, Third Eye already burning with barely-restrained exasperation.

When he found you, you were sprawled on the grass, arguing lazily with Wukong about which celestial fruit tasted better. (Wukong argued for the Peaches of Immortality. You, just to provoke him, defended nectarines he had never managed to steal.)

Erlang almost choked at the sight.

"You were supposed to control the monkey!"

"I am!", you replied, stretching like a cat basking in the sun. "Look: nobody exploded. That's a win."

In the end, Erlang returned alone.

His report was dry and clipped:

"She chose to stay. To... 'observe closely.'"

༶•┈┈┈┈༶•┈┈┈┈༶•┈┈┈┈

But the truth was far simpler, and far more beautiful.

You stayed because, for the first time in eons, someone laughed at your terrible jokes.

You stayed because there was dust in the air, wind in your hair, and stories being written — not by gods, but by imperfect, wonderful people.

You stayed because, in Monkey's wild grin, there was a silent invitation: "Stay. Let's be free together."

Oh, and of course —

You also stayed because, during the great Havoc in Heaven, when armies clashed and towers fell, you had been... peacefully napping.

Curled up on a cloud like a celestial cat, snoring gently while chaos unfolded all around.

Wukong never let you live that down.

At night, under quiet stars, he'd nudge you and murmur:

"Sleepyhead... you missed the best part."

And you, with a slow, genuine smile, would think:

Maybe I missed the war... but I found something better.

༶•┈┈┈┈༶•┈┈┈┈༶•┈┈┈┈

That night, the world was made of silver and whispers.

The stars stretched lazily over the velvet sky, some twinkling with the mischief of drunk fireflies, others blinking slowly as if about to doze off themselves.

The campfire crackled low, painting everything in tired orange — Tripitaka slept upright like a collapsed tent, Bajie snored like a small army, and Wujing was keeping a silent, gentle watch nearby.

You lay sprawled on your back over a patch of soft moss, your cloak tangled around you like an oversized nest, hair glittering faintly with stardust. The cool air smelled of wet leaves and river stones. Somewhere, an owl hooted, probably offended by your very existence.

Then you heard it —

the unmistakable light footfalls of someone who never learned how to properly walk without looking like a mischief about to happen.

Wukong plopped down beside you, elbows propped up on his knees, tail flicking lazily.

"You’re gonna catch a cold, lying like that," he muttered, tossing a stray twig at your face.

You barely flinched.

"You sound like an old uncle," you yawned.

"Old? *Old?*" He clutched his chest dramatically. "I'm a blooming youth, thank you very much."

You smiled, lazily cracking one eye open to look at him. His armor was thrown half off, golden plates scattered around like sun-drenched leaves, and his hair was an untamed halo around his head.

He looked — for once — not like a force of nature.

He looked... young. Mortal. Free.

"You missed the best part," he said, softer now, gaze tilting skyward. "Back then... when I fought Heaven. The whole sky was fire. Clouds broke apart like torn silk. Screaming, running... It was ugly. It was *beautiful.*"

You hummed sleepily.

"Sounds exhausting."

He chuckled, low and hoarse, a sound you felt more than heard.

"Yeah. Was. And you —" he poked your forehead lightly, like tapping a drum, "— were probably drooling on some cloud while I risked my pretty tail."

"Was dreaming important dreams," you murmured. "Very critical... strategic... dreams."

"Of what?"

He tilted closer, curious.

You opened your other eye, catching his face — that mischievous, stubborn, impossible face — illuminated by starlight, and said, utterly serious:

"Of sleeping more."

For a second, Wukong just stared.

Then he burst out laughing — real, helpless laughter, the kind that cracked open the night and scattered all the ancient worries from your chests like autumn leaves in a storm.

He fell back onto the moss beside you, still snickering, his tail flicking against your ankle.

For a while, neither of you spoke.

You just lay there, two small, chaotic specks against an infinite, careless sky.

After a long while, Wukong's voice came, almost a whisper:

"...If you ever get tired of Heaven... or tired of pretending you're not lonely..."

He shifted, folding his arms behind his head.

"...You can stay with us."

You turned your head, finding him already looking at you.

Not mocking. Not challenging. Just... offering.

The stars spun lazily above.

The river sang somewhere out of sight.

And you — deity of forgotten tides, sleeper of crucial dreams, wearer of wrinkled robes and crooked crowns — smiled a small, real smile.

"Maybe," you said, voice barely brushing the night, "I already have."

Tag: @pastelle-bears

[idontplaytrack]

Peanut butter & banana

Janis ‘Imi’ike x fem! reader

Warnings: age regression, sickfic-ish, fluff

Idk, just felt like writing another one bc I’m kinda sick rn🥴 so I’m projecting🤸🏻‍♀️ I couldn’t think of a title😁

- wc: 2.8k

You and Janis were scheduled to work at the same time today, when she got to the coffee shop and didn’t see you, she was confused. You were never late. Heading for the manager’s office in the back of house after clocking in, Janis stood in the doorway and knocked. 

“Jasmine, I thought y/n was working the same shift.”

“She called me late last night to say she couldn’t make it today. I usually don’t allow this but she’s never done this before so I’m cutting her some slack. She really sounded like she needed today off.” 

“So…I’m just going to be alone until 12 when Avett comes in.” 

“No, I’ll work the counter with you when it gets busy. I already did some of the opening duties, so you just carry on with whatever’s left.”

“Oh.” Janis clutched onto the strap of her crossbody bag, “Okay, thanks. I will get to work.” 

With that, Janis scurried away from the office and put on her apron and name tag. Then, she completed the rest of the opening duties to make sure they were ready for the day of operations ahead. Well, in thirty minutes. 

Janis was done with the duties with a few minutes to spare so she quickly shot you a few texts, then later a very concerned sounding voice message right before they opened for the day.

But, the steady flow of customers kept her occupied enough that she didn’t have the time to worry about you. Soon, it was time for her lunch break once Avett clocked in. That was when she remembered that she had texted you. So…she anxiously took her phone out to check. You didn’t respond yet, you didn’t even read any of her texts. 

Maybe you were just sleeping it off? Whatever it was….that is. She thought. 

It wasn’t until halfway through her break that her phone screen lit up showing your name. Damian’s texted her a few times and she’s replied everytime. But she just wanted to know for a fact that you were okay. 

It was…a string of gibberish letters. She squinted at her screen, initially confused. But swiftly concluded that you were regressed. Janis’ thumb hovered over the phone app, hesitant to call. Sometimes, you’d pick up, other times, you would not. Today, you did not answer her call so she left it at that. With three hours left of her shift, she was starting to feel better than she did this morning since she got confirmation that you were now awake. But she still couldn’t wait to see you, of course. If you were indeed sick, she wanted to take care of you. 

You heard some knocks on the other side of your garage’s door, but you ignored it since you were annoyed. But the sound doesn’t stop. “Baby? It’s me.” 

You rubbed your eyes and swung your feet off your bed as you sat up. 

“Can I come in?” 

You dragged your feet over to the door to open it and let her in. You smiled when you saw her, but she could see you weren’t feeling too great. You looked pale, and tired. She held your cheek in her hand, “Hi, baby.” 

You still didn’t talk. She walked inside and shut the door behind herself, “How are you feeling, sweetheart?”

You sulked, eyes teary. That meant you’d been crying. She wrapped her arms around you, “You’re not feeling too good, aren’t you?” Petting your head tenderly, she led you back to your bed and you sat down. You weren’t warm, so that was good. You completely just leaned onto her, clinging to her side. “Are you hungry, baby?”

“No.” You mumbled, shaking your head a little.

“Oh, I was so worried about you.” She stroked your cheek with her thumb, noting the dried tear streak. 

“I text you, Jan.” You replied, not understanding her worry for you right now.

“Yes, honey. You did, good job.” She said, now holding your hand and giving it a squeeze.

“Does your tummy hurt?” She guessed, you got stomach bugs or even just stomach pain quite often, so the girl wasn’t surprised if this was the case.

You shook your head, pulling your hand away from hers gently and crawling back under the covers. She watched you do so, brows knit together in worry. “Baby, please talk to me. I wanna help you. Is it your head?”

“No.” Your voice…was shaky. It cracked. She shifted closer to you, “Does it hurt here?” She smoothed her pointer finger over the front of your neck. You pointed to the sides instead.

Oh, shit. You always had this issue too. You took good care of your health, and so this was strange to her and to you. Your tonsils would seem swollen and hurt, but you got virtually no other symptoms. This would then come and go for a period of time then disappear completely until it happens again. Due to the frequency of this happening, you and Janis have figured out exactly what helped. Despite how badly you hated this step, she had to have you use a medicated gargle. That got rid of the pain and the germs. It was always a bit of a struggle, but wasn’t hard for her to coax you to rinse your mouth with it. Usually with a bit of a bribe, per se. Be it cuddles or stickers, or just her saying she’d draw you whatever picture you wanted. 

“Come on, baby.” She nudged, “Rinse your mouth with this, okay? You know what to do.” 

“I don’t like it.” You whined, sulking. Your face was scrunched up in disgust remembering the bitterness of this mouthwash.

“I know, but it helps you feel better, remember?”

You took the bottle cap filled with the mouthwash from Janis and poured the liquid into your mouth. “Head back.” She nudged, watching you carefully as you followed her instruction. You weren’t happy about this but did it anyway. While you rinsed out your mouth, she rinsed out the cap and put the bottle back into the cabinet behind the mirror above the bathroom sink.

“I’m going to make you some soup.”

You held onto her arm to get her attention and then shook your head in disagreement. “Then what do you want?” She turned around to face you, stroking your head.

“I don’t wanna.” 

“Baby, it’s so late. You have to eat something.” 

You just ran back to your garage and sat in your bed, cuddling your plush lamb and grabbing your iPsd. The familiar theme tune of Bluey was then heard, and you got relaxed in the matter of seconds. Janis decided not to talk about food with you again for now, but she had an idea. 

“I’ll be right back, bubs. Stay here for me, okay?” She kissed your head.

“Okay, Jan.” You answered absentmindedly. She ruffled with your hair and chuckled softly before she left your garage for the kitchen. After lightly toasting two slices of bread, she cut them up into the shapes she needed them in then spread peanut butter on them and assembled the pieces to look like Bingo. Well, it didn’t look like your favourite cartoon character until she decorated the toast with banana slices and a few chocolate chips. But…if this didn’t make you want to eat, then Janis doesn’t know you well enough. Satisfied with her work, she grabbed a pudding cup and a spoon too before returning to the garage. 

Janis walked in and saw you laying down, a fuzzy blanket wrapped around yourself. “Baby, look what I made for you~”

“I don’t wanna.” Your lips jutted out adorably, she couldn’t help but grin.

“Just take a look, honey. I think you’ll really like it.” She continued, the grin still plastered on her face as you slowly sat up.

“Ooh,” You gasped, “It’s Bingoooo.” 

“Yes, sweetie.” Janis chuckled, “Now— will you eat some of this. Please?” 

You nodded your head, eager. “Okay, I eat.” 

“Good, baby.” She handed you the plate, “After you’re done with that, here’s a little dessert, hm? Sound good?”

You happily took a bite out of the toast but was hesitant about swallowing it, scared that your throat would hurt more. Janis got it, she knew why you didn’t want to eat anything. But that wasn’t the way to go, and since you weren’t interested in having soup, she thought this would help put you in a slightly better mood. Even if the scratchy toasted bread would make you just a little bit uncomfortable.

————

After eating, you laid your head in her lap while playing with the rings on her fingers. You giggled to yourself while doing so and she just found that really endearing. “You just wanna snuggle?”

You nodded, glancing at her with a smile. She then tickled you, making you laugh aloud. “You feel better?”

“Yeah.” You muttered. Janis took your plush lamb and booped your cheek with its leg, you smiled. “I’m glad you do, sweetie.” “I want colour.” You looked at her. “You wanna colour? Sure.” Janis rubbed your back as you sat up, “What do you wanna colour?”

Flashing her a mischievous grin, you looked at her arms, then pointed at her tattoos. Janis’ expression mirrored yours, then she peppered kisses all over your face making you squeal, “You wanna colour my tattoos?”

“Mhm.” You laughed.

“Mmkay, I’ll go grab the markers.” She said, holding your face by the chin and squeezing your cheeks. You beamed brightly, “Yay.” Watching her return to you with a box of washable markers. You got started without hesitation and were occupied by the activity for quite awhile. Janis just watched and commented every now and then, telling you what a good job you were doing. “You likey?” You looked up at her, she was trying not to laugh from the ticklish feeling. “Yes I do.” She hummed, “They look awesome. Nice job!”

“Hehe.” You smiled, proud of your work. It did look pretty good. ”I bored.” You looked at her, naturally having a pout. “We snuggle?”

“Sure, bubs.” She gathered up all the markers and kept it back in its box before putting it in your desk drawer. “C’mon, lay on me.” 

You laid flat on her, on your stomach, legs sort of straddling her. You were quiet for awhile as she combed her hand through your hair soothingly. The silence got pretty tense, though. So she started to look at you with worried eyes. “Hey…what’s the matter, little one?” She smoothed her hand up and down your back. 

“I don’t like sick.” You answered quietly, avoiding her eyes.

“I know, baby. But I take good care of you, and you’ll be better in no time.” Janis cajoled. You stayed silent, as though defeated. You’ve had to deal with this thing at least once every month or so— which Janis thought was ridiculous because no one deserved to feel disgusting and in pain this often. Especially not you, her girl. 

She felt your forehead again, and thank goodness, still no temperature. 

“I’ve got you, baby. It’s okay.” Janis cooed, “Do you wanna watch cartoons on your iPad?”

You shook your head.

“Wanna nap?”

Also no.

The conversation ended there, and here you laid, in absolute silence other than the steady beat of her heart flowing into your ear since you had your head against her chest. At last, you did fall asleep and napped on her for a good hour or so. Janis napped together with you, holding you close. She was relieved you fell asleep, half expecting you to start crying out of frustration since you couldn’t exactly understand why you were in that discomfort. Janis was simply glad that didn’t happen, but instead you managed to get some rest, feeling safe and secure in her arms. 

That night, Janis convinced you to take a shower to freshen up— with her help of course, she was too worried to let you do that on your own while you were sick. “I cold.” You hurriedly grabbed your bath towel from her and wrapped it around yourself. 

Well, crap. The water was already warmer than usual. 

“It’s okay, let’s just dry off real quick and get dressed in your jammies, yeah?” 

“…don’t feel good, Jan.” Your lips quivered. 

Her heart clenched, “I know you don’t, sweet girl. Okay, all dressed, come on. Let’s head back to bed.” Janis guided you to sit down on your bed, handing you your plush lamb. You took it from her with a tiny little smile, glad to have your comfort item with you. “Be good and wait here for me, okay? I’m just going to the kitchen to grab a few things for you.” 

You mumbled an ‘okay’ then draped your fuzzy blanket around yourself, no energy to object. You stared into space waited for her to come back, and she did, not even five minutes later— with a whole tray of things. Cold water in your bottle, a yogurt pouch, a bowl of teddy grahams and Goldfish. And…medicine. You just knew she’d have you take it, but you didn’t like it. It tasted bad. 

“Anything you want for dinner?”

“Dunno.” You sighed softly, “Sorry.” 

She needed something for you that was filling, but also not a texture that would hurt your throat even more. What did she think of? Canned pasta. She saw a few of those in the pantry earlier. Without saying anything, she set the items she had down and went back to the kitchen to quickly get that ready for you.

“Alrighty, dinner is served.” Janis joked. She managed to get a chuckle out of you. “Spaghetti O’s.”

“Noooo.” You sulked.

“You have to eat. I’ll feed you.” 

That usually left no room for much negotiation, so you simply gave in and let her feed you your dinner, then the fever medicine. The taste of the Motrin nearly made you gag which sent Janis flying to get the trashcan just in case. “Alright, you okay? Does your tummy hurt?”

“No.” You told her.

“I’m just going to wash this up, then I’ll be back for snuggles, okay?”

After you ate your food, Janis got something for herself too.

Once she sat down next to you, you clung onto her side— mostly for the warmth. Janis also draped the fuzzy blanket over you since you did say that you were feeling cold. Plus, it’ll take awhile for the medication to work. You and Janis stayed in bed for a bit and then both of you brushed your teeths before finally turning in for the night. It wasn’t even ten at night, but it definitely felt like a pretty long evening so far.

“Just close your eyes, sweetie. I’m right here with you if you need me.” 

You started crying, but you didn’t want to make any noise so you were trying to just swallow your tears. Bad choice. You were in more pain now. “It’s alright, it’s alright.” Janis assured, rubbing your back to calm you down. “Just let it out, baby. You’re safe here with me, I promise.”

“Don’t wanna cry.” You gulped, “I don’t wanna…”

“It’s okay to cry, my love.” Janis shushed you, “It’s okay.”

Still, you shook your head but the tears just kept flowing anyway. Her arms around you tightened as she pressed a kiss to your head. You snuggled closer. After some seconds, she broke away from the embrace, and you two faced each other. Janis held your face in her hands, “You’re going to be okay. I promise. I know you don’t like being sick, I get. And I’ll take good care of you. But it’s okay to cry, sweetheart. Okay?”

“Okay.” You nodded slowly, licking your slightly dry lips.

Janis chuckled, a sigh then falling from her lips, “You’re so cute, I just — wanna bite you sometimes.”

“What?” You looked at her, shocked for a moment then a giggle fell from your lips. She leaned closer and kind of tackled you so you were now laying down while she pressed kisses all over your face making you squeal. Just for fun, she lightly bit you on the cheek with her lips. You gasped, “Noooo.”

“Oh, yes.” Janis laughed, brushing the hair out of your eyes, “I think my baby deserves all the kissies in the world, don’t you?”

“It tickles, Jan.” 

“Okay, sorry.” She was still laughing, “Let’s get some sleep now, yeah?”

“Yeah.” You puckered up your lips and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

“Aw, thank you, honey.” She planted a kiss on your head then wrapped her arms around you again once you’ve both laid down comfortably. “You comfy?” Janis asked with a grin, relieved that you were in a better mood. You nodded, “Mhm.”

“Good. Close your eyes. Sweet dreams, baby.” 

“Night, Jan.” You murmured. 

“Good night, my love.” 

“…thank you.” 

“Shh. Go to sleep.” Janis continually rubbed your back to coax you to sleep, “Go to sleep, baby.” 

🏷️Tag list: @arandomeee @ashecampos @auliisflower @cheesysoup-arlo @frogs00 @ludoesartandstuff @pda128

[kyunghwannie]

🌙✨💻 A Word From Your Lazy But Sparkly Fic Gremlin 💻✨🌙

Hey hey, my little chaoslings 🐹🍑🦄🍓—

I know some of you might’ve been wondering, “WHERE THE HELL DID KYUNGHWANNIE GO AFTER MAY 20TH?”

And honestly… valid. LMAO.

I haven’t uploaded a full fic since May 20, which ironically is the same day I gave my final exam and mentally combusted into sparkles and ramen noodles. 🌚💥

But here I am—still actively posting crack, thirst, TWICE delulu edits, and yelling at Tumblr for labeling my MASTERLIST as mature as if I leaked a Dahyun twerking video. 😭

So, what's going on? Lemme lay it out.

🌼✨LIFE UPDATE: THE VACATION ARC (feat. Confusion and Existential Crisis)✨🌼

After finishing my beast of an exam season, I finally entered this thing called vacation… and I thought I’d instantly return to writing fics like a demon possessed.

BUT NO.

Turns out, your glitter gremlin is going through a quiet chaos phase. 🧍‍♂️

Life's changing. Mentally, emotionally, creatively.

Some days I feel lazy, some days I feel empty, and some days I just wanna nap while listening to "Knock Knock" like it's 2017 again.

And while I am trying to enjoy my time off, there’s been this… weird fog sitting in my writer brain.

📝✨Let’s talk about THE WRITING THING. And the AI elephant.✨📝

So lately I’ve noticed a boom in “prompt-fics” or AI-generated content. Y’all know what I’m talking about. Some of it’s great, some of it’s unhinged (respectfully), and some of it makes you go “Huh… that’s suspiciously robot clean.”

And I’mma be deadass with y’all.

Yes.

I’ve used help from ChatGPT before.

Not for the whole fic. Not for the soul. But yeah—sometimes for scene refinement, flow, or line polishing when I felt stuck or creatively exhausted.

Examples?

My first-ever Nayeon one shot had a bit of GPT touch.

My Chaeyoung fic had a few moments cleaned with help.

BUT — never more than like 10–20% of the story.

The rest? Pure me. Pure chaos. Typos, bad pacing, crying, rewriting 12 times. You know the vibe.

🤍💭But then came the anxiety.💭🤍

It started hitting me…

“Is this cheating?”

“Am I being fake?”

“Will my readers still love my work if they knew I used help?”

I spiraled.

I started doubting my authenticity even though most of the fic is still me, written from scratch with my cracked-out late-night brain fueled by banana milk and Sana edits.

I didn’t want to lose the me in my writing.

The flawed but fun, messy but real, emotional but hilarious me.

So since that Chaeyoung one, every draft I’ve touched has been purely handwritten by me.

No AI. Just me, my fingers (crying), my notes app, and my imagination… which is very unmedicated, might I add.

But that also means:

💀 Burnout hit.

💀 Pressure hit.

💀 I started overthinking everything.

🌟💌The Truth? I Just Wanna Be Real With You.💌🌟

I don’t want to serve you flawless plastic perfection.

I wanna give you stories that feel like me.

I want to make you laugh, cry, scream, and say “WTF” all in one paragraph.

I want to write in my voice—even if it’s chaotic, grammar-wrecked, and accidentally horny in emotionally charged scenes.

I want to be Kyunghwannie.

The one who types full 15K-word fics like a drug addict.

The one who makes pocket idol thirst posts then cries about social pressure and family expectations.

The one who loves TWICE and SEVENTEEN so loud that my blog is 90% sparkle and 10% brain cell.

So yeah. If you’re still here, still waiting, still reading:

Thank you. Seriously. 🥺💗

Chapter updates ARE coming (For wattpad).

Fics ARE being written.

And I’m still gonna post stupid stuff in between like “What if Sana kept me in her bra as a pocket boyfriend?”

Because that’s just me.

Stay chaotic, stay patient, and don’t worry.

I may vanish sometimes…

But this glitter bomb always comes back. 💥🐰💜

(A random pic i took when i was travelling in this vacations)

[mjonthetrack]

Chapter Two: Leave the BS at the Boro

The smoke from the grill drifted down the block like a home-cooked promise—sweet, spicy, and unmistakably Black. R&B mixed with old-school hip hop flowed from the stacked speakers, the bass bouncing off brick. Kids ran between folding chairs and domino tables, aunties were doing too much in the best way, and the sun was setting just enough to cast the whole block in a honey glow.

Right across the street from the old bodega turned community hub—The Boro—hung a massive hand-painted banner:

“LEAVE THE BS AT THE BORO.”

It wasn’t just a slogan—it was law.

Inside the gates, it was love, respect, and good food only. You couldn’t bring mess through those gates and think you’d walk out the same. Imani made sure of it.

She stood near the grill, red nails tapping a solo cup, gold hoops catching the sun, fitted jeans hugging thick thighs just right, and a cropped tee repping her foundation’s name: Brick by Brick.

“Don’t let that meat burn now!” she called out with a grin, pointing at one of the teens from her reentry program trying his hand at the pit.

“I got this, Miss Imani!” he shouted back, smoke in his eyes but pride in his chest.

She laughed and sipped, turning to check on the dessert table when a voice low and warm slid up beside her.

“You always this good at turning concrete into community?”

Josh.

He wore a crisp white tee, black cargos, and fresh dunks. Cuban link around his neck, beard sharp, shades hanging off his collar. He blended in but stood out—man man energy that made a few of the women posted up near the lemonade table side-eye Imani and whisper.

She didn’t turn. Just smiled. “Depends who’s asking.”

He chuckled. “It’s me again. Figured I’d stop by. You said you always need help.”

“I did. You showin’ up empty-handed?”

He reached behind him and pulled out a large foil pan from one of the elder ladies’ cars. “Miss Claudine told me to bring her banana puddin’ before you cursed her out.”

That made Imani laugh for real, her head tilting back. “She ain’t never on time, but she always hit with that pudding. Good move.”

“Trying to stay on your good side.”

She side-eyed him now. “Mmm. Don’t try too hard.”

Josh grinned. “Nah. You don’t seem like the type who likes try-hards.”

They moved through the party together without trying—people dapped Josh up, asked if he was new in town. He didn’t talk much, but he observed, learned, watched her. The way she made everyone feel safe. Seen. Respected. The way she walked through the block like it was hers—because it was.

And when the sun dipped just below the rooftops, and the music slowed to a groove-heavy classic, he leaned in close enough to speak low in her ear.

“I get why they follow you.”

She looked at him. Really looked.

“And why’s that?”

“‘Cause you lead with love,” he said. “Even when it comes with cuss words and fire.”

Her smile was soft now, almost tender. “You good with fire, Josh?”

He didn’t hesitate. “Only when it’s worth gettin’ burned for.”

Before she could speak again, a group of kids ran by, almost knocking into her. Josh instinctively stepped in front of her, hand brushing her arm just enough to protect without overstepping.

She noticed.

And said nothing.

But when she walked off, her shoulders sat a little lower. Not in surrender, but in surprise—somebody else had her back.

Even if just for the night.

———

Chapter Three: Don’t Let the Cute Fool You

It was just past 7pm and golden hour dipped the block in the kind of light that made even the broken pavement look soft. But Imani wasn’t in the mood to romanticize the city tonight.

She stood outside The Boro, her community space, with a clipboard in hand and her usual iced coffee she never finished. The sun caught the gold in her nose ring and lit up the script tattoo peeking beneath her short-sleeved tee. Her acrylics clicked against the clipboard rhythmically as she surveyed the event flyers taped to the windows—next week’s schedule was packed, and she liked it that way. Stayed moving, stayed building, stayed ahead of the ache in her chest that only slowed down moments let in.

A van from one of the local food vendors pulled off, leaving her with her notes and a peaceful silence…

Until they showed up.

Across the street, leaned up against the chipped wall of the old corner store, were three of the OGs from the block. Not the elders who built with wisdom—but the ones who lingered too long in streetlight shadows. Always watching, always whispering, always waiting for her to fail.

Especially after she pulled Khalil—one of their newest runners—right from under their nose. He’d been helping her now. Showing up early, putting in work, trying. And they hated it.

“Miss Love out here still thinkin’ she got power,” one of them called out.

The others chuckled, loud enough to carry.

Imani didn’t flinch.

She kept checking her list, lips tight, jaw tighter. But when one of them lit up a blunt and started walking toward the curb, she snapped.

“Don’t bring that over here.”

Her voice cut through the air like a switch.

The man stopped mid-step, blinked like he wasn’t expecting the storm.

“This ain’t your lil’ cookout, baby. This the block. You don’t run all this.”

Imani turned fully then, clipboard dropping to her side.

“I don’t need to run it. I cleaned it. Built something where y’all only watched it rot. You got a problem with that, take it up with the mirror. Or your mama. But not me.”

That shut the street up for a beat.

She stepped off the curb now, slow but deliberate. That walk wasn’t fear—it was a statement.

“I ain’t Khalil. I don’t need convincing. I’ll walk through fire for this space, and I damn sure won’t let you stink it up 'cause you salty a woman did what you couldn’t.”

“You talk real tough for somebody out here solo,” the shortest one said, arms crossed.

Imani stepped right up to the curb, eyes cutting sharp enough to draw blood.

“I am solo. And that should scare you.”

Just as one of them shifted like he wanted to puff his chest—

A deep voice slid in like thunder right before the rain.

“Y’all deaf or disrespectful?”

Josh.

He’d been leaning on the side of a black SUV across the street—watching, just in case. Now, he stepped forward, slow, calm, but with enough weight in his walk to hush the concrete.

The OGs clocked him quick. Tall, broad, and no nonsense. He had on a windbreaker zipped halfway, dark jeans, and black-on-black sneakers. His chain glinted once under the streetlight.

Imani didn’t move. Didn’t even glance at him. But the smirk on her lips gave her away.

Josh didn’t even look at the men—he looked at her. “You good?”

“I was.”

That made him grin, slow and deliberate.

“Cool. Then I’ll just stand here in case anyone needs a reminder.”

He took position next to her like he’d always been there.

The men muttered and faded back into the shadows. No fireworks, no show. Just the silent defeat of energy not built to withstand real ones.

Imani let the moment breathe. Then turned back to her flyers like nothing happened.

“You stay watchin’ me now?” she asked, cool and teasing.

“Only when I know you don’t need me to.”

She looked at him then, really looked. And for a second, that steel softened again.

“Good answer.”

————-

Still Chapter Three: Real Recognize Real

Inside The Boro, the last of the vendor drop-offs were done. Tables still needed rearranging, flyers restacked, and one of the folding chairs by the back door was starting to lose a leg, but Imani didn’t mind the imperfection tonight.

She stood behind the small kitchenette island near the back of the space, pouring up a tall cup of her famous lemonade—real lemons, not that store-bought concentrate. Sweetened with cane sugar and a dash of mint. She only made it for her people. Or when she was feelin’ generous.

Behind her, she heard that familiar, slow walk.

Josh had followed her in but didn’t say a word. He didn’t have to. The weight of his presence filled the room naturally, the way certain men do when they’re built from real experience and not ego.

“You just gon’ keep showin’ up like this?” she asked over her shoulder, pouring a second cup.

Josh leaned on the doorway, arms crossed, eyes scanning the space like he already knew how to secure it better. “You keep holdin’ it down like that, I might.”

She smirked, but it didn’t touch her eyes. Not yet.

Imani turned, walked the two glasses over, and held one out to him.

“Lemonade. I make it the right way. Ain’t no sugar bombs or bitter mess here.”

Josh took it, his fingers brushing against hers for half a second too long. “Appreciate it.”

She watched him take a sip, eyes squinting slightly as he tasted. Then he nodded like she passed a test she didn’t even know he gave.

“You cook too?”

“Don’t disrespect me,” she said flatly, setting her own glass down with a smirk. “I do it all. Raised on it.”

Josh chuckled, low in his chest. “Figures. You move like somebody who’s used to saving shit.”

There was a pause after that. Not awkward. Just… full.

Imani stepped around the island, wiped her hands on a towel, and then finally extended her hand—officially.

“Imani Love Rivers. This is my space. My program. My block.”

Josh took her hand, firm but respectful.

“Joshua Fatu. Just moved out here not too long ago. I do private security work. Wasn’t lookin’ for anything… but I see what you’re building.”

“Brick by brick,” she said automatically, like it was gospel.

Josh nodded. “We build, we rise.”

That made her pause. A real one.

She studied him then, eyes narrowed, jaw relaxed. Finally, she cracked the first real smile of the night—small but earned.

“I see you, Josh.”

And damn if something in the way she said his name didn’t settle in his chest like a vow.

He set his drink down, casually fixed the crooked banner behind her without being asked. Didn’t make a big deal of it either. Just moved like he belonged, like he gave a damn.

She didn’t stop him.

Instead, she said, “You hungry?”

“Always.”

“I got a plate in the back fridge. BBQ chicken, mac, greens, cornbread. Ain’t from nobody’s store.”

Josh raised an eyebrow. “That sound like a trap.”

Imani laughed—low, husky, and full of history.

“Nah. Just respect. You earned it tonight.”

He didn’t need more than that. Just followed her lead like he’d been doing it forever.

And as the city outside buzzed and the shadows shifted, inside The Boro, something small but real got planted.

———-

Chapter Four: Still Waters, Sharp Smiles

The city council gala wasn’t really Imani’s scene. Too many politicians with fake smiles and empty promises. But funding was funding, and her programs ran off grit and grace—and a couple extra checks didn’t hurt.

She moved through the room like she owned it anyway.

That dress—black, off the shoulder, clinging like a second skin and stopping mid-thigh—didn’t scream for attention. It commanded it. Her heels clicked soft on marble floors, her earrings kissed her jawline, and her acrylics tapped her glass like a warning.

“Miss Rivers—pleasure,” some councilman said, reaching for her hand.

“Mhm,” she replied, polite enough to pass, sharp enough to cut. “We’ll see how much of a pleasure it is once we talk numbers.”

Laughter followed her. Not mockin’—admiring. She had that effect. She looked like a storm dressed in silk.

But she hadn’t expected him to be here.

She clocked Josh across the room—black suit tailored just right, no tie, shirt buttoned just low enough to remind folks he couldn’t be tamed. But it wasn’t that that got her. It wasn’t even the way he moved—controlled, smooth, like he’d spent a lifetime surviving rooms like this and still kept his crown.

It was when he turned, said something low to someone beside him, and smiled.

That damn bottom row of grills flashed.

Not loud or gaudy—just subtle, silver, a little gleam from under those full lips.

It shouldn’t have hit her the way it did.

But it did.

Right in the gut.

She swallowed a sip of champagne, lips parting just slightly.

“Damn,” she murmured, more to herself than anyone. “Now I see the problem.”

Josh caught her looking—of course he did. Real ones always know when eyes are on them.

And he didn’t play it cool.

He held her gaze, slow blink, head tilted just enough to say I see you too, Miss Rivers. Then he gave her a nod. Not cocky. Not performative. Just respect… and something else beneath it.

He wasn’t coming to her—not yet. Letting her breathe. Letting her look.

But the damage was done.

Now she couldn’t unsee it.

The man was pressure.

And she hated how much she liked it.

[thehollowwriter]

Summary: Think of concept art, but in the form of a fic. This is Finn's OB concept fic, just a vague idea

(Pls reblog and leave a comment ❤️)

Paint

They were there. They were watching. Watching him. Watching, waiting, all eyes on him. Empty black sockets trained on him.

Paint them. Paint them, and you'll feel better. Yes, that's what he always did. Paint them, it'll make everything more bearable.

There was no colour this time. Thick, sticky, black paint was poured onto... something. Was it a canvas? Maybe. He couldn't remember.

The paint was too numerous and thick for the brush. It lay abandoned on the floor, dripping in black.

Fingers worked better. Faster. Caked in black paint that never seemed to run out, they raked across the rough surface in twists and turns, curves and loops.

Paint stained his hands and trailed up his arms. It clung to his hair and leaked down his face like thick, cold tears.

Crying. They were crying now. Ear-piercing, skull-splitting wails that were far from natural. This was wrong. They had never made a sound before. Only in his dream would they sob and whisper and wail.

His fingers left the canvas, and he covered his ears and slumped to the floor. He opened his mouth- to do what, he didn't know- only to find himself choking on pitch black paint that spewed forth wildly.

Stop. Make it stop. Make them stop staring, stop crying. Make the paint stop flowing.

Who was he asking? He didn't know. Someone. Anyone. Anyone who would listen. He just wanted this to end. He wanted it to be quiet. He wanted it to be peaceful. It was too loud. Too much noise.

They wouldn't stop crying.

...........................................

A/N: I hope ya'll enjoyed this experimental fic. There's a ton of stuff I cut from the original draft.

Tagging: @distant-velleity @kitwasnothere @cynthinesia @krenenbaker @jaylleoo14 @whspermy-name @theleechyskrunkly @officialdaydreamer00 @the-banana-0verlord @twisted-wonderland-but-gayer @jovieinramshackle @casp1an-sea

@ramshacklerumble @poisoned-pearls :P

[albedomestic-airline]

the morning after i killed myself

author’s note: have any of you seen the youtube video named this exact thing? i was inspired by that, to make sure no one goes through this. i hope i’m able to convince any of you to not end it all, but all i can do is hope.

from, haewon

to, anyone thinking of leaving

the morning after i killed myself, i brushed my teeth and took a shower

i walked into the kitchen and made myself a cup of coffee

i cut up some bananas and put them in some oatmeal with blueberries

the morning after i killed myself, i walked into the backyard, and found my mother picking my favorite hydrangeas and lilies from her garden for my funeral

i walked along the river bank next to our house and saw my father carefully placing the note i had written to them into the stream, watching as it flowed away with the current, closing his eyes and letting tears roll down his pale cheeks

the morning after i killed myself, i walked with my sister to school, the little girl who had once been in love with barbie dolls and cute pink hello kitty tshirts, was now all grown up in her freshman year, holding back her sobs and cries of disbelief as she tried to believe that i still existed

the morning after i killed myself, i walked into my classroom and sat next to my best friend, who sat spaced out, lost in thought of our memories together, guilty that she couldn’t help me and prevent all of this, she just couldn’t come to terms with the fact that i wasn’t by her side anymore, and that i never will be again, our teacher didn’t even scold her for not paying attention as she couldn’t believe it either

i walked out of the school building and strolled around the neighborhood, i stepped into our neighbor’s yard and inhaled the scent of flowers and petrichor

i danced around the old woman’s garden of roses, daisies, and lavender, soaking myself in the rain, i waved to the goodhearted lady, perched on her balcony, but she could not see me

her eyes were glazed over with tears as her caretaker brought her the meds she took daily, but she did not smile back as usual, opting for a faint nod as she stared at the note in her hands that had informed her of my death

the morning after i killed myself, i tried to unkill myself, but i could not undo my decisions, as they had already been made.

i hope this prevented at least one su1c1de, please stay strong, there is someone out there looking for someone like you, and many who are like you, who sympathize with you and feel the same. i love you, person on the internet, and i’m sure someone else does too, you just need to find that person and keep going. i know how stupid that advice seems, and how hard it is. but i hope that at least this written piece gives the message well.

again, love,

haewon.

[genopaint]

We're already on week 40!? It's time to start October!!

As always you can follow me on twitter where they’re posted daily

And read more info on each of them below the cut

Daily Dragon #273 - Craggodon

Large dinosaur-like dragons that tend to live in large rocky areas without much plant life. They actually feed off minerals and geodes found inside rocks so you often see them eating boulders and cracking them into pieces for their young.

That's right! One more alt media dragon!! This time it's made of clay! Which is a HARD medium to work with. But it is fun for sure! This didn't come out at all how I wanted it but I think it's funny and cute enough to work lol

I've got maybe 5 more alt media dragons planned off the top of my head so we'll see whenever I get around to them. I love drawing but it can be draining to draw 200+ things the same way every day lol

Daily Dragon #274 - Ender Dragon

Did you know that despite having played the game for probably billions of hours and the fact that the final boss is a DRAGON I've actually still never beaten Minecraft? Feels crazy to think about. I should get on it one day.

Daily Dragon #275 - Dullahan Green

And of course, the first Dragon of Halloween season is this funny headless Dragon Girl :)

Daily Dragon #276 - The Dragon Knights

Of COURSE the winner for September was the dragon that was 4 characters in one... I mean- THANK YOU ALL FOR VOTING!! Seriously I'm glad you all liked these 4 so much. Just 4 regular high schoolers, nothing to see here!

Here's the results:

Dragon Knights - 4 Votes Blaze Baphomet - 3 Votes Cumulusaur - 2 Votes ???BAHAMUT??? - 1 Vote Decibadon - 1 Vote Greendragon - 1 Vote Dragon Czar - 1 Vote Tarnivore - 1 Vote

September was a pretty strong showing for dragons I think. My favorites are probably between Caimaul, Cave Dino, and Dragon Czar! I loved doing ones in different mediums and I'm excited to try even more in the coming months! It's Halloween month now which means I'll have to do some seriously spooky dragons ASAP! Plus, get ready for day 300 which is fast approaching, I'll need all of your help to make the final community dragon come together, so get the ideas flowing!!

It's probably obvious but I'm coming out of my hiatus. I'll just complain a little bit but it was generally a total failure of a hiatus lmao. I won't go into details but I gotta get back to work ASAP! So expect my commissions to reopen soon enough I suppose!!

Daily Dragon #277 - Plantodon

I've been a little obsessed with Venus Fly Traps lately in case it wasn't obvious lol. These dragons are actually fully made of plants, so they're incredibly weak to fire!

Daily Dragon #278 - Bananusaur

Large dinosaur like dragons that hide in tropical locations, attempting to blend in with bananas that grow in the area. While they can't get far, they can flap the back 2 peel-like appendages to fly short distances

Daily Dragon #279 - Raohgon

Large menacing dragons that typically live in grasslands and fields. They can use their wings to lift them off the ground and carry them through large fields quickly. The energy blast they fire from their powerful jaws is incredibly destructive!

[bestmatchainsandiego]

Matcha Recommendation # 3- May 5, 2025

Another great recommendation I would like to highlight is Forum Coffee, which not only offers unique matcha drinks but also serves as a perfect study-friendly cafe. It is located in the Clairemont Mesa area and is extremely accessible for college students since it sits conveniently between San Diego State University, University of San Diego, and UC San Diego. This central location makes it easy for students from all three campuses to commute over and grab a coffee or matcha to fuel their day. I actually discovered Forum Coffee just a couple of weeks ago with a friend, and I am so glad I did. I ended up ordering their coconut matcha, which is a blend of matcha and coconut milk. At first, I was unsure because I had never tried coconut in my matcha before, but it turned out to be surprisingly delicious. The coconut flavor was a little stronger than the matcha, but it added a tropical twist that I appreciated. It was a refreshing change from the traditional matcha lattes I usually get, and I definitely do not regret trying it. Forum Coffee offers a wide range of drink options for all types of customers. My friend decided to try the banana coffee latte, which is a mix of banana milk and coffee. It was interesting because the banana flavor tasted fresh and natural rather than artificial, but it may have been a bit too ripe, giving it more of a mellow taste than a sweet one. I personally think that using Korean banana milk could have enhanced the drink, as it has a sweeter and more distinct banana flavor that many people enjoy. In addition to these drinks, Forum Coffee also has a variety of other matcha options and classic espresso drinks. There is something for everyone, whether you are feeling adventurous or prefer to stick with familiar flavors. What stood out to me most about this cafe, though, was the abundance of seating. These days, it is difficult to find a cafe where you can sit and stay for a while, especially with finals season approaching. Forum Coffee makes studying more manageable by offering enough space to work comfortably. It may take a few minutes to find a seat during busier hours, but there is usually a good flow of customers coming and going.After my experience there, I am excited to try more drinks and push myself to explore beyond my usual orders. I often hesitate to branch out, especially when it comes to trying new matcha cafes, but this visit reminded me that there are so many hidden gems waiting to be discovered. Taking that small risk can lead to a new favorite drink or even a new go-to study spot.