#don't look at me this was the only thing i could finish i failed myself 😔

[blorboderolo]

@percildanweek 2024 Day 1 (Angst / Historical AU / Steam Punk)

"When I watch the world burn, all I think about is you. Well, it fucked me up when I fell for you I shouldn't have let me fall for you The world is ending on the news But here in my head, I’m drunk on you My love, my love, unrequited My love, my love, undecided" ⠀ -- Bastille "When I Watch the World Burn All I Think About is You (Demo)"

Happy beginning of Perc'ildan Week y'all!!

[pearlymel]

Ooo I know! It's just a little thought

What if capitano and y/n had their first fight in front of their kid?

"I told you I'm fine." You try convincing your ever so worried husband for the nth time.

The thing was, ever since you gave birth to your daughter, it's like he had a leash on you, not in a bad way. Capitano only wants to protect you and his daughter, and knowing his position as the fatui Harbinger, it had become difficult to keep an eye on both of you 24/7. So he trusts that you would tell him everything by the end of the day.

Capitano's protective nature was both endearing and infuriating at times, but you often appreciated his care. Today, however, his overprotective streak was starting to get under your skin.

The argument started as a simple disagreement about a minor decision, but had quickly escalated into a fiercer discussion.

"i want to keep you and our family safe." He said firmly, and he wishes you'd stop there to understand him.

"I only brought her with me to the market so she can learn how to socialize with people, and for her to experience picking treats with me."

"You were fine this time." he retorted, his voice taking on a slightly higher tone. "But what about the next time?"

You grit your teeth together in frustration, because really, this is getting ridiculous. "Maybe if you didn't think so much about it—"

He doesn't even let you finish before he speaks back, "How can I not think about it? Every time you leave this house, every time you're out of my sight, I can't help but worry." He takes a deep breath to calm his nerves, it's rare that he's ever arguing with you, usually when you're upset with eachother, he usually stays quiet.

"You don't understand. My job has shown me the worst of Humanity, the things they're capable of. I just want to keep you safe." Capitano holds on both sides of your arms, "i trust my men enough to accompany you. But i can never be truly sure that you're safe without me." He's upset, you know it by the way his eyebrows wrinkle together.

But you're not convinced just yet, "our daughter wants to go to the park sometimes. Do you know how many times i had to stop myself from refusing her everytime she frowns at me?"

Capitano's expression hardened again at your words, his jaw clenching tightly. "The park is dangerous," he argued back while applying a bit more pressure on your arms, "It's too open, too vulnerable. There are too many unknowns, too much that could potentially harm you and our daughter."

"It's not like we are going to die." You bluntly respond and it makes his eyes widen, even the sentence makes him shiver. He's one and only fear, not seeing you both because of one mistake.

Just as he parted his lips to answer back, a faint sound—a sneeze coming from the corner of the closet. One you recognise so well that it makes you stiffen in your place, and you notice Capitano pressing his lips into a thin line.

You both turn your heads until met by the little girl attempting and failing to hide on the side of the giant closet.

"she's watching," you whisper, glancing back at him and he nods before sliding his hands off you.

"You can come out," he called gently, his voice softer than the previous argument.

He knelt down on one knee as she stepped out from her hiding spot, his eyes wide with innocence and remorse for the argument she had witnessed. "Come here." He encouraged her, his arms opened slightly for her. And she hesitantly walks at first before taking confident steps towards the comfort of her father's embrace.

You join them after, kneeling down at their level and your husband opens his other arm to squeeze you in with them. Capitano's arm wrapped around her small form, holding her close against his chest.

"I'm sorry you saw us arguing," he murmured, "We didn't mean for you to hear all that." You continue softly.

Your daughter's head turned towards you, her eyes filling with tears as she heard your apologies. She looked between you and Capitano, her lower lip trembling slightly. It's like children can mimick their parents current emotions.

"Your mother and I just had a disagreement. We didn't mean to scare you."

"is everything okay?" She whispers quietly while fidgeting with her fingers together, "Yes." You both instantly respond.

her expression is still uncertain. "We promise," you reassured her again before he gives further more reassurance "Everything's okay, angel. Mama and papa are fine. We're not mad at each other. We're just... going to talk things through, okay?"

She then starts slowly nodding, "that's my brave girl." His lips curl upwards as he strokes the strands of her hair.

"and we will take you to the park."

Your daughter's eyes widened, a small gasp of happiness escaping her lips. She looked up at you, her eyes seem to sparkle even.

Meanwhile, Capitano's eyes narrowed at your declaration. He shot you a warning look, silently reminding you of his previous disagreement.

"... With your father of course." You laugh quietly and his shoulders seem to relax, "fine. We will all go."

"yay! Swings!" The little girl grins while excitedly holding her hands together.

"well, aren't you weak for the little angel?" You whisper to your husband, giving him a small smile, already having forgotten about your argument.

Capitano holds you both closer to him, as if relieved to have this little family in his life, the only thing that makes everything more bearable, "she has me wrapped around her little finger, just like her mother."

The link to my short capitano series :p

[caramelkoo]

kiss me? jjk.

the one with gentle hands and endless kisses

genre : husband!jungkook, "i can do it myself"!reader, "i know, but let me do it for you"!jungkook

warnings : fluff, more fluff, brief smut, words of affirmation as love language, jungkook takes care of her, oc is so relatable i cried, jungkook being the best husband ever. let me know if i missed something.

a/n : hello besties, here's a little fluffy ☁️ gift for you since im obsessed with husband koo. tysm for loving my previous writings im beyond grateful. the fact that people out there are reading what i write is making me jump from happiness. enjoy and you're loved.

"There she is, my favorite girl" Jungkook's plasters a sloppy kiss on your cheek. His sweaty body connecting with your freshly showered one but you don't mind. Not when the first thing he says is that you're his favorite girl after his early morning gym session. The phrase never fails to make you turn red.

Last night Jungkook had briefly mentioned his wish to have chocolate covered strawberries because apparently, the ones you make are his absolute favorite. So here you were, making chocolate covered strawberries for him.

"I missed you" he lifts himself up on the hard counter and leans back on his palms. He attempts to dip his index finger into the melted chocolate but you swat his hand away.

"You were literally gone for two hours and get down the counter, Jungkook!!!! You're all sweaty" you warn him.

"But you like me sweaty" he gives you the same look he hits you with when you don't let him eat the last piece of pizza. Pouty and adorable.

"No doubt about it but I'll have to clean it again, honey." when the look doesn't leave his face you speak again.

"Okay if you get down now, I'll let you fuck me in the shower" you've barely even finished the remark before he hops off the counter and runs towards the bathroom.

"I HAVE THE BEST WIFE EVER" his voice trails off.

Knowing the fact that he'll not let you live it down if you don't live up to your words, you wipe your hands and join him in the shower. You let him eat you out under the cold water and then pound into you as you struggle to keep your knees from giving out.

The loud sneeze echoes through the room as you wipe your nose which now feels like the 50th time. Tiring.

When you came out of the shower you were perfectly fine. When your nose started stinging, you didn't think much of it then too. Before you knew it, you were sneezing three times in a row with a fever which only keeps getting worse.

Jungkook had immediately wrapped you up in a fluffy blanket and asked you to take a nap as he cooks some porridge for you. At the risk of sounding selfish, whenever you're sick you're tend to crave his closeness more and more. You hate it though, you know it puts him at the risk of sickness but you can't help it. He looks cozy and so so comfy, you just want to snuggle with him and doze off.

After all, he's your safe place, your own personal haven with a gorgeous smile and warm embrace and he's well aware of the fact that you're perfectly capable of taking care of yourself when you're sick, perfectly capable of running yourself a bath when you want to, skilled enough to wear that piece of jewellery around your neck.

However, he'd still run a bath for you with rose petals and scented candles, still ask you to lift your hair up when he clicks the pendant close before placing a kiss at the nape of your neck, still cook for you when you're sick and kiss you goodnight before he takes you in his arms and falls into deep slumber, still whisper into the darkness that he wishes he could take away all your pain upon himself thinking you're fast asleep.

Just like now as he places the tray, the bowl of porridge on top of it alongside your medicines, a glass of water and gummy bears because he knows that you're not fond of the bitter aftertaste of the medicines.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he touches your clammy forehead before tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "Feeling any better, love?"

When you shake your head, his eyebrows crinkle in worry.

"I feel like throwing up but when I try nothing comes out" your lips open with a sigh.

His face gets remarkably worried. Not like he's wearing any other expression ever since you've started sniffing and stifling. You feel like shit. Earlier in the morning he's informed you about Namjoon's house warming party and was so excited to visit his best friend. Now he has to stay here and take care of your sick self when he should be with him, having the time of his life.

"I'm sorry you couldn't go to the party" your voice is brittle and you stop yourself from breaking down right there.

"Honey no, you're more important to me than any fucking party. Are you crazy? Besides, he would have poked my eyeballs out had I gone there and told him I left you here, sick and all by yourself."

The kiss that he places on your forehead is soft and tender causing you to close your eyes and bask in the love behind it.

"C'mon, get up and eat something. You'll feel so much better with your tummy full."

When you find it hard to get up all by yourself, you know it's more than just a cold now. You feel a headache coming.

Jungkook helps you sit up against the headboard as he picks up the bowl, taking a spoonful of porridge and holding it out for you to eat.

Your lips quiver and a sob threatens to break out, you hang your head low so he can't see the tears forming behind your droopy eyes but fail when your chest shakes with a sob.

Jungkook panics, quickly placing the bowl on the tray beside him, "Hey, what's going on? What's happening?"

You face him and open your arms, "Can you hold me for a while?" You're crying now. Tears stream down your face as your nose stings even more.

He wastes no time to take you in his arms, hands rubbing your back and then holding the back of your head as if he's cradling a baby. Holding you oh so gently like you might break and maybe you will. Maybe you will break because of how overwhelmed you are and how lousy you feel.

"It's alright, honey. Cry all you want, I'll hold you."

So you do, letting your head fall on his shoulder you cry out all the emotions you're feeling hoping you'd feel lighter by the time you're done. You're thankful for his silence. He understands, he always does and you understand him in return.

Your husband's hands don't stop moving for once. Constantly rubbing your back, running through your hair, gently massaging the back of your neck to release any tension. It's so funny how a tattooed hand like that which might look intimidating to strangers can be so soft and tender for you. For everyone in general, Jungkook is indeed the most gentle person you've ever known.

After what feels like eternity, you lift your head and break the hug. You lean back against the headboard as he speaks.

"Do you wanna tell me what caused that?" he asks in a careful voice.

You're still not in the space to talk so you shake your head and say, "Maybe later?"

"Whenever you feel like it, I'm here. But I wanna say something and I want you to listen carefully alright?" he waits for your nod before continuing,

"When we were about to get married, I had a chat with your father. He told me that you have a tendency to feel like a liability on people and you beat yourself up over somebody taking care of you, doing things for you, showing up for you because you'd rather do them by yourself. And then I promised him something. I promised him that I'll do anything, and I mean anything to not make you feel like that. I will manage to eat three bites less but I will never let you sleep with an empty stomach."

He kisses the back of your hands as you sniffle, scared that the tears might come back.

"So when I do things like this for you, skip my best friend's house warming party for you or doing anything for you for that matter, It's not because you're a burden. It's because you're mine and you'd do the same for me. I want to take care of you, honey. I like to. I love you the most _____, you're my everything and I can't fucking breathe when you're suffering like this."

Well fuck, the tears are back.

"Now, finish this and let me hold you to sleep" he helps you eat the porridge before you gulp down the medicines. The gummy bears follow.

With his help you lie back down on the bed as he saunters back to the kitchen, promising you to be back soon.

You're not surprised Jungkook knew the reason you broke down. You wouldn't expect any less from him and as always he has a way of making you feel loved and mattered with his words. Your husband is a gift and you want this particular gift in all your lifetimes, in every form.

He comes back with a bottle of water in his hand. He places it on the nightstand and joins you on the bed.

You stop him with a hand on his chest when he drops his head down to kiss you on the lips.

"You're gonna catch a cold" you warn.

"As if I care. Please baby, let me kiss you. You know I can't sleep without kissing you goodnight"

The chuckle that leaves you makes Jungkook's whole face light up.

"Only if you let me trace your tattoos"

"I promise" he says with the softest smile on his face.

Pouting your lips, you invite him for a kiss which he gladly places on your lip. His pillowy ones lingering for some seconds before pulling away. He kisses your cheeks next, your temples, your nose, your jaw and then finally, both of your eyes which were now damp from all the crying. Although, that didn't seem to bother him.

"I love kissing you"

When he plops back down on the bed, he pulls your entire body on top of his with your head tucked into the crook of his neck. He feels so warm and cozy, you never want to let go. He would be fine with that too.

"Honey?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you so fucking much. Let's make a baby when you get better"

"I love you too, husband. I wouldn't mind having a little one like you"

[thevoidstaredback]

"Guys!" Nightwing shouted once he and Batman arrived in the main are of the Bat Cave, "I have some fantastic news!"

Bruce pulled his cowl off, his amusement no longer being hidden as he nearly failed to keep from laughing.

Everyone had gathered in the Cave to await the two who'd gone to the Watchtower, so everyone was already there to hear the exclamation. Even Alfred was with them all.

"Calm down, Big Bird," Jason said from his place on the meeting table, "What's going on?"

Dick was bouncing on the balls of his feet, "Can I tell 'em, B? Can I, can I?!"

Bruce chuckled, "I'm not stopping you."

He cheered before turning back to the rest of his family, "They think there's a total of three-" he held up three fingers on his left hand, "-of us operating within Gotham, myself excluded because I'm in Bludhaven."

"Wait," Stephanie called, "They think Batman only has three people helping to cover Gotham? They know we're human, right?"

Dick shook his head, his grin only getting bigger. "Nope! They think Batman only has two sidekicks covering Gotham with him."

This caused everyone to laugh, the humor breaking any seriousness anyone would've tried to control to keep on topic. It was nice, Bruce smiled, to be able to let loose with everyone like this. His family was altogether, spending time with one another, doing things that didn't include head hunts or injuries.

Alfred took his place beside Bruce. "This is nice, isn't it."

"It is."

"You can die a happy man now?"

A chuckle. "You killing me off so soon?"

"Of course not, Master Bruce," He's smirking, "I'm simply stating a fact."

"Ha!"

"What're you guys talking about over there?" Tim called. Everyone had gathered at the meeting table to go over final details and slight changes for the set up tomorrow. "C'mon! We've gotta finish putting this all together."

Duke nodded from over his shoulder, "Yeah! New information allows room for some much more fun!"

Jason smirked. "Yeah, old man, Alfred! We want to see if we can get away with switching out with each other. It'll confuse the hell outta the Leaguers."

Bruce raised an eyebrow as he and Alfred joined the kids at the table. "How are you going to pull that off? Despite what you all may thing, the others are all a lot more observant than given credit for-"

"Except the Flash and Green Arrow." Cass cut in.

"Hey!" Dick said, "Don't dis Barry like that!"

"Yeah," Barbra agreed, "And Ollie's whole thing is spotting details. He prides himself on it!"

"If that were true, then we wouldn't be planning on how to mess with them, now would we?"

Tim nodded, "Damian's right."

"As you were saying?" Bruce prompted.

"Well," Jason continued, "You, Damian, and Dick have to be here as Batman, Nightwing, and Robin. They all probably know about me, so I'll stay out of the Cave, but you can bet your ass that I'll be in the Clocktower with Babs, listening in on everything." He looked to Tim and Babs. "Should we set up cameras?"

Tim thought for a second, "If we want to record this, then yeah. I can have them all set up by morning."

"I'll help you set it up before I head out tonight," Barbra agreed.

"Anyway," Stephanie interrupted, pulling the attention to herself, "Tim, Cass, and I could totally get away with running around and messing with their senses and shit. And if we can get Kate and Selina in on this-"

"You've already talked to them, haven't you." Bruce asked. The matching grins on everyone's faces was answer enough. He sighed.

"Having fun," Cass patted his arm, "Bonding."

He snorted. 'Bonding', yeah right. Maybe letting his coworkers be the target of his childrens' whims is a bad idea. Then again, their not hurting anyone. It's all fun in games.

Bruce sat at the head of the table. "Alright. We all know about Superman's ability to hear heartbeats and breathing patterns. He's able to memorize someone's vitals, especially his friends. It's safe to assume he's got mine down, as well as Robin's and Nightwing's."

Damian scoffed. "Changing my vitals will be no issue for me."

Bruce nodded, "Me, either."

Dick nodded along, "Soundseasy enough. But what's the plan?"

"Oracle will call you out for an emergency in Bludhaven. Red Hood will call me out for some information at the docks. We'll met up at the Clocktower and switch costumes." he explained.

Barbra had a manic look on her face. "We should have Steph and Cass stay away from the Cave at first, then have them come in separately, but sharing a costume." SHe turned her attention to the blonde. "You have a spare Spoiler costume, yeah?"

Stephanie matched her grin, "Naturally."

"What about me, Tim, and Damian?" Duke asked.

"How would you and Tim like to be actual bats?" the red head wondered, "Or maybe ghosts?"

"Do we get to mess with shit?" Tim asked.

"Naturally."

"I'm in," the two responded.

"Damian will run distraction," Jason said," He'll be the only one who stays with the JL the whole time they're here. Alfred will have to keep cover upstairs. I'll bounce between the Manor, the Clocktower, and patrol."

"Are you quite sure?" Alfred asked, "That's quite a lot to be doing."

"Yeah, I'll be fine," he assured.

Brice cleared his throat. "If everyone's ready?" Looks around the table before nods of affirmation. "Good. Finish up any last minute changes and preparations. They've agreed to meet at the Watchtower at fifteen hundred New Jersey time so that I can bring them here. Damian, I want you to come with me."

"Of course, father."

"Ready? Break."

Part 3 Part 5

Tag List: @sebas-nights

[catboybiologist]

Hey it's a life update that probably no one cared about or asked for

tl;dr: I'm likely quitting my PhD via mastering out, and leaving my program in June.

sappy, overly emotional vent/explanation:

I'm wrapping up my first quarter as an out-of-the-closet trans woman. I've had some serious conversations about where me and my work stand. This was always my intention after coming back from my summer hiatus/social transition: see how "reentry" works, and then assess from there.

For those that don't know, PhDs in the US take 5-7 years. Oftentimes, however, they either give you a master's along the way, or give you an option to quit halfway through with a master's. I'm in my 3rd year and have more than enough to use that option. I've toyed with this idea before, but it feels a bit different now. Last year, I was burned out from science, my project was failing, and I was under constant stress of boymoding and remaining in the closet. Now, I'm out and proud, and I deeply love my project and find it exciting. I fixed some things.

Unfortunately, I have a recurrent problem. Whenever something goes wrong in my life, the first thing to drop off is my ability to drive forward my own thesis project in a coherent way. What the actual problems are vary, but that motif stays the same. I could list off what's going on right now, but I think y'all can assume a bit of what a mid-20s, broke, recently transitioned trans woman in the US is going through at the moment. There's a lot of specifics, of course, but I'm not at liberty to say most of it.

So I'm looking around and realizing I have scraps of half finished projects, I've given support and help for other people's projects.... and then made little progress on my actual thesis. It's enough to pull together into a master's thesis, and maybe even another paper or two, but.... not a PhD.

And then there's the other side of it. The nicer reasons. Could I stay here, buckle down, maybe add years to my degree, and get through it? Probably. But honestly? I don't really want to put myself through that now. It used to be that academics was all I had. It was all my failures and all my successes. It's what I threw myself at, because I genuinely had nothing else going on. Since transitioning, the world seems so much more beautiful and rich, so much more complex and vast, with so much more to do in it. I've even had more negative experiences unrelated to academia, and while they've sucked, they've shown me that life is so much bigger than it was before.

To be blunt, to experience more of my life... it helps to have money, and it helps to have career stability. It's not the only factor by far, but certainly one defining moment when making this decision was trying to create a timeline and budget for transition related surgeries, and realizing that its near impossible in grad school.

Not to be dramatic, but I've also had a couple extremely jarring experiences in the past year that are reminded me that life is short. And I want at least some time to enjoy it.

My heart is honestly broken here, and I'm feeling extremely emotional about this. I love my lab, my colleagues, the environment of doing research, and my project. But I'm realizing that it might not be viable, or what makes me the happiest at the moment. I'm genuinely a bit distraught, and I've been crying a lot for the past few days. A lot of me feels like this is what I am, and this is what I'm good for. That I'm failing myself and every mentor that got me here. Some part of me knows that isn't true, some part of me can't let go of those feelings.

But, I know this doesn't mean "never". So many of the people in my program are significantly older than me, coming back later in life to get their degrees. I'm honestly almost positive that I'll come back to a PhD someday if I quit now. In my 30s or beyond, I think that I'll be able equipped to handle it much better.

So what's next?

Obviously, nothing is decided, and I'm just spitballing here. But I'm honestly shocked at how many viable options I have, in a very good way. A cursory scroll of Indeed was honestly therapeutic. As I said, I still love the academic research environment. I just need more money and stability, and would prefer to have a slightly different relationship to the work I do than a thesis project. Ideally, I would want to be a staff researcher in an institute or academic lab. That lets me keep a lot of the things I like about what I do now, while also making literally 2-3 times the money and having a more stable position.There's positions out there that maximize the contexts I'm the strongest and happiest with, while still being more steady and paying more. Hell, even if my responsibilities were identical, but I had more pay, I could probably more effectively address the personal problems I'm going through right now. I'm gonna stay in California for a lot of reasons, and I'm lucky that there's so many options within the state.

I have a bit of an oddball set of experience. I'll actually have two nonoverlapping master's if I do this. I already have a MS in bioinformatics, which was granted by a CS department. But my current program is in more "pure" molecular and cell biology. I'll have 5 years of grad school, 8.5 years of research experience if I include undergrad research, and instead of a PhD, 2 MSs. Which is kinda funny. But it think it helps represent my experience for what it is. I like to consider myself a "full stack" bioinformaticist- someone who can do both the experimental and analysis portions of experiments that produce large data. Hopefully I'll be able to put that to good use.

I have a lot of professional contacts that I'll slowly be reaching out to over the course of the next 6 months while I tie things up. I know this is a wildshot on tumblr of all places, but if anyone has any recommendations, advice, or contacts, I'm all ears- both for professional and job hunt related things, and also the emotional state I'm in right now.

Thank you to everyone that's made up this wonderful community we have online. I hope I'm not letting anyone down. I'll still be a biologist, I'll still be my trans self. I just won't be "Doctor" anytime soon.

[erika-xero]

Thoughts on ai and Art

What has Ai really changed for me is the perception of my own art. Years back, I was extremely concerned of my work being imperfect: everything had to look "right", the anatomy had to be flawless, the lines - clean and refined. The pipe-line had to be flawless too: minimal amount of layers, one - for lines, one - for colors, and a few for lighting/shading.

Meanwhile I was yearning for chaos and the standard pipe-line felt too strict, too limiting. I finished the drawing and cried over the imperfections, but I could not let myself create a new layer and just paint it all over as I wanted to - that would "mess up my perfect psd". This was even harder because I started as a traditional artist and traditional art is basically the same as drawing on one layer or stacking the layers on top of each other whenever you wish to change anything. I was so obsessed with the anatomy/perspective looking right that my works started looking boring and stiff. If I was not sure that I would be able to draw a certain body part at a certain angle ANATOMICALLY PERFECT - I just refused to draw it at all. Drawing back then was HARD. I forced too much limitations upon myself, I was so scared of making any mistakes and thus did everything I could to avoid the risk to fail. It felts like an entire world would see me failing and everyone - literally everyone - will disapprove. And don't get me wrong - the art community in my country has always been astonishingly toxic. We had, like, a group of 20 THOUSANDS individuals hunting down children online and bullying them into oblivion for drawing anime and furry characters in their school textbooks. And pretty much everyone except a small group of people (which I was a part of) thought that it's absolutely fine and this is how the things should be. Even the industry professionals were absolutely sure that young artists have to suffer and be ashamed of everything they do unless it is absolutely flawless at an any aspect. I was ashamed of everything I did back then. I was ashamed of drawing and posting sketches because I felt like they are not good enough to be shown to anyone. And then the Ai-boom started. And I had mixed feelings because I was not THAT scared, but I was somewhat disappointed of people? General public praised the generated slop ignoring the mistakes far worse than what real artists got bullied for for DECADES. The synthetic artworks are shiny. They are overrendered. They are liveless, boring, they lack fundamentals and yet somehow people viewed them as some kind of a miracle. I decided to learn how does those little machines generated their slop out of morbid curiosity, just to make sure that I got it right and it is spitting out cadavers created from mutilated, dismembered works of real artists. Used by people who did not care enough to pick up a bloody pencils. And I thought: why would I care enough to look at something that no one bothered to create? And then I started seeing everything I do completely different. I suddenly stopped caring of being perfect. Every piece I have ever done, every work I was crying over for it being ugly, every messy sketch and unfinished doodle suddenly started to matter a lot. Not that I stopped caring of doing my best, no. I stopped wishing to disown my own mistakes. They are my own. I cared enough to try and fail and to try again, and fail so badly that I wanted to cry, scream and throw up. And I repeated the cycle for long enough that I started to enjoy my silly doodles and started loving every tiny imperfection because this is what made my art so human. I still suck at drawing hands and feet. My line-art is messy and I started doing it right on top of my colored sketch. My pipe-line is in chaos and my PSDs look like a total mess of three hundreds of layers. I draw sketches with huge-ass round brush only adding the details that really matters. My works are better than they could ever be because they feel alive and chaotic as we human had always been. This is a love letter to my art and write it while flipping off my middle finger to the cadavers generated by the machine. I will not be stopped by glorified autocomplete and I refuse to be outdone by people who confuse googling an image with the act of creation.

My worst drawing is better than any of the generative imagery out there, because I cared drawing it.

[aettuddae]

business matter — chapter 119.

↳ synopsis: two of the most important kpop companies covet a partnership with a huge global brand, only to be surprised when the deal is extended to both labels. fearing potential sabotage and cynical strategies to secure exclusivity for just one of them, both CEOs resort to desperate measures. in a bid to maintain trust and prevent betrayal before the signing, they come up with a pact: forcing a fake relationship between the leaders of their star girlgroups. if one side attempted to fail the other, they threaten to expose it all to the conservative south korea.

masterlist | prev | next

[half written chapter]

"the netizens are destroying you." commented yujin as her eyes scanned her phone screen while her finger scrolled down through her socials.

"i know, you've been saying the same thing every time you go on twitter." grumbled serim before taking a swig from her water bottle.

"how could you post a picture of a cigarette?" exclaimed chaeyoung in exasperation from the armchair the group had in their practice room.

"i already answered you that every time yujin reminded me that i'm being destroyed online." the leader gave a frustrated sigh.

"it's worrisome, let us react accordingly." minnie approached jang with her backpack hanging from her shoulder and the one that belonged to her bandmate in her hand. "you know how they are in olympia, if the press keeps this up, they're going to put you on hiatus." she threw the belongings at her.

"they're not going to put me on hiatus." serim grabbed her bag and stood up, following the thai who led the group towards the door to leave after finishing practice. "we are at the peak of our success."

"exactly! so knetz are more on us than ever!" complained yujin, smacking her on the back of the head. "you shouldn't be doing anything that ruins our image."

"but it's just a picture of a cigarette!" the attacked one fluttered her arms through the air reason of her despair. "many celebrities are public smokers." she reminded lowering her tone of voice.

"but you're a woman." minnie grabbed the door handle and without taking her eyes off serim, opened it. "and anything you do is much more controversial."

"what did you do?" an intrusive voice came from behind the singer causing all the HeAVEN members to jump and scream from the sudden fright.

"holy shit, jimin!" shrieked an annoyed serim covering her face with her hands. "what a scare." she muttered uncovering her features and looking angrily at the girl who had personified herself behind the door and was smiling innocently back at her.

"we all see her, don't we?" questioned yves as the members began to approach one another until they accumulated and piled up against each other.

"blink twice if you are real and not a figment of our imagination." yujin ordered the newcomer.

jimin, standing in the hallway of olympia entertainment's building, at the entrance to the group's practice room, looked at them in bewilderment, not understanding why they were reacting so astonished. with the same silly -or awkward- smile she'd had since she arrived, she listened and blinked twice, which elicited groans and surprise from the others.

okay... she wasn't welcome. good to know.

"i can't believe it." chaeyoung straightened up, separating herself from the human mass they had formed, dropping her arms in frustration. "i'm going to lock myself in the bathroom, let me know when she leaves." she walked toward it with a slumped posture.

"i see you are all very fond of me." observed the girl.

"go!" the maknae called out, extending the vowel and raising her hand to point toward the exit.

"i'll go." she reassured.

"awesome!" celebrated minnie.

"but with serim." she added.

"oh no." sooyoung shook her head in disgust at the idea.

"did you come to kidnap me?" questioned jang with a horrified expression.

"it's not kidnapping if you come with me voluntarily." she cocked her head, giving her a look of obviousness.

"but i don't want to go with you voluntarily." the older refused.

"namu, come here." she took a few steps towards her taking her wrist and leading her out.

"she's kidnapping me." warned serim to her mates as she walked behind the blackhaired.

"it's not like you're resisting." contradicted yves with a disappointed expression on her face before the door closed behind serim.

"what do you want?" the older one queried once they were alone in the hall, crossing her arms and furrowing her brows as she watched jimin.

"to take you home." she replied simply and somewhat tenderly, she was terrified of a possible negative reaction, but she couldn't not find her angry attitude adorable.

"you depraved woman!" she exclaimed offended, pulling away from her a bit.

"no, wait." interrupted the younger girl awkwardly. "not to my house." she clarified. "i came to take you to your house." explained.

"what for?" she looked at her sideways.

"i decided that i'm going to come get you from work and drive you to your place like you did all this time for me." she revealed. "i'm trying to start over, to make you fall in love with me the right way."

"jimin," she dropped her head, tired.

"no, listen to me." she stopped her. "let me try, i want to make things right." she fought back.

"no, jimin, i was going to say you don't have a car and you don't know how to drive, what do you mean you're coming to get me every day?" she exposed.

"i extorted my manager to drive me here every day-" she spoke very fast, knowing that what she had done was morally wrong so she wanted to defend herself as soon as possible, preventing serim from judging her.

"are you trying to get me back by extorting people?" she shouted.

"she what?" minnie was heard startled from inside the room.

"since when are you an honorable person?" pointed karina incredulously.

"oh, and now you're trying to win me back by calling me a bad person." she couldn't believe it.

"that's not what i mean!" she tried to fix the situation, stressed. "you stole my wallet!"

"that was months ago!" she put her hands on both sides of her waist. "and i gave it back to you!"

"well, i'm extorting a person for a good cause." she argued.

"it's for a whim." she dismissed.

"you are not a whim." her tone turned serious and the lively expression on her face turned into a sad one, following serim's every move with her eyes wide and bright, as if she were a child about to cry. "you matter to me and i genuinely want to make things right with you."

serim faced her, turning her body fully in her direction. she scanned the opposite calmly, silently, if you concentrated on her eyes you could see the thread of thoughts weaving behind them, contemplating how she should act. the younger girl looked pleading, aware of possible rejection, but with some hope within the brown of her pupils.

"listen." she broke the silence.

"yes, my namu?" her eyebrows raised in amusement, sensing in her manner of speaking something good.

"no, listen to me." the woman repeated coolly, causing jimin to return to seriousness and nod her head. "i'll go with you." she agreed, to which the blackhaired began to jump and squeal in celebration. "stop it." she held her still by placing her hands on her shoulders and applying pressure. "just for today." she clarified.

"i'll convince you tomorrow too." she warned confidently.

"we'll see." jang murmured.

"namu." karina called.

"what do you want now?"

"are we about to kiss?" she narrowed her eyes as she groped the situation, referring to the closeness between them and the hold serim still had on her body.

"you should stop talking before i change my mind." she advised, abruptly removing her touch from her and approaching the door to open it. "i have a kidnapping to attend, see you later." she informed her bandmates.

"you used to be a respectable woman." yves judged her.

"slut!" added chaeyoung.

(!)

— taglist [CLOSED]: @yoontoonwhs @cwpiqwon @aliceiwk @xen248 @gtfoiydlyj @rinapomu @aeriuchinarga @multiliker @somedaydream @impossiblesharkcashrebel @yjiminswallet @nwjnsloona @yerimbrit @73vyn @dni-unavailable @yizhuobberi @sewiouslyz @yeetaberry127 @masuowo @yallatalla @aerithykly @chaenniefirst @minfolio @starrynini05 @hotluvlet @wmnrhot @mineige @lisaswifey @brocoliisscared @fae-the-wanderer

[ghostieyanyan]

Hello uuuh what yandere riddle rose heart react if he met Mc like...mc is the princess of redrose thorn in another kingdom and she is the house warden president in another school....she is powerful...and mc doesn't have too strict rules but mcs student respect her and there are only 5 rules...1 don't be late 2 always do your cleaning day 3 no running in the halls 4 always respect and kind each other 5 never let the house warden president mad.......cause mc gets really scary than riddle and mc sometimes a little crazy and punished of who will messing with her classmates dorm or who will getting violent...

~Rose Princess! Mc~

Yan!Riddle x Rose Princess! Mc

Warning: yandere, implied kidnapping, maybe some misspellings,

I made it so this mc isn't perfect! i hope that's okay

~~~

Riddle ran things his way. its either you follow all of his rules or "off with your head!" Even after the overblot, he's became or lenient but overall he's still a stickler for rules.

When Riddle met you, he didn't really mind it too much. you were just mixed with those other trouble makers in school. as long as you didn't get in to trouble, he'll stay out of your way.

That changed when he keep seeing you in Heartslabyul. its one thing is he were to find you with ace, deuce, grim, and the prefect. but its another when he sees you messing with his roses!!!

"Hey!!"

You jumped and wiped your head around to see a red faced Riddle.

"Who gave you authorization to touch the roses?!"

When he got closer, he realized you were tending to the roses! You were cutting off the dead branches that other students will either ignore or not noticed. Those branches are often by the roots of the brush, which makes it an unpleasant job to do. It showed on your hands and arms too. Cuts from the roses thorns...

"Oh my! I am very sorry, Head housewarden."

You stood up and bowed your head. which he wasn't prepared for a formal greeting. With the crowd you spend your time with... who could blame him...

"i noticed that some of the branches were rotting, so I've taken it upon myself to tend to them before they spread. i told Vice warden Trey ahead of time which he'd told me... he'll tell you..."

Riddle blinked. He looked at your work, the roots have been cleared of its old rotten branches and it looked overall more healthier. He turned to look at a basket you had, it was filled with a mixture of tools and roots. Riddle shifted his glaze at you. You're uniform was messy, with rips and dirt everywhere...

"Im sorry House Warden! i should have came to you directly for this request! Im sorry!"

You bowed your head again.

Riddle looked at everything one more time and turned to you.

"How do you know how to tend to the roses..? Not a lot of people know or even think about working with roses because of their thorns.."

You lifted your head, swiping your uniform to get rid of any lose dirt.

"Im..."

You bit your tongue for a moment then let out a breathe to continue.

"Im a Princess Redrose Thorn..."

Riddle had to do a double take on you.

"A princess..??"

There was an awkward moment of silence. You were about to continue when Riddle stopped you.

"finish with what you are doing here and after you are done, clean up and meet me in my room, please."

Riddle turned on his heel and started to walk away, after finishing with-.

"I'd like to discuss this when you are more presentable."

Then he was off..

~

Before your "meet up," he got himself your records. You were a princess in a land that are known for their different variations of roses. Nothing like Queendom of Roses, his homeland.

He found your last school, and how you had a very important role in that school. That was, before you were accepted in Night Raven College...

While he was lost in thought, looking at your files, he hears a knock.

"Come it!"

Riddle watched your head peep out behind the door. He tried to keep a neutral face but kinda failed...

"Ahem-! Please take a seat! I've.. made tea."

Watching Riddle stammer a bit was cute. you gave him a smile and walked inside, closing the door on the way. Riddle took the chance to pull out your seat, "out of respect".

There was an awkward moment of quiet but you didn't mind it. You took the opportunity too look at the house warden's room. Its as you expected it. Everything is neat and tidy. Everything is where it should be, very orderly. You see lots of books!! On his book shelf, on his desk, side table, they weren't messy but neatly stacked which you appreciate.

"Ahem!"

You jumped and turned to Riddle. You didn't mean to get lost in thought but you did.

"About the roses..."

"I really am sorry for messing with them without your permission, head-"

"Riddle. And its alright, i haven't seen anyone pay that much attention to their responsibility in the dorm. Normally they cut corners and not thing of the overall dorm structure."

He took a sip of his tea and glared to the imaginary freshman Heartslaybul students to the side.

"heh.. I just know how to tend to them."

"You said that you are a princess? why would a princess actively gets her hands dirty?"

"Oh!"

You laughed as you looked at your tea cup, running your fingers against the details of the saucer.

"where ive from, id like to rule hands on."

You straighten yourself and looked at Riddle. He swore you were glowing.

"The place i protect is my home too. As a princess, i have big responsibilities but i cant forget the little things either. That's why i like to be hands on."

Riddle felt a stammer coming, so he took a sip to stop it.

"Your homeland... its also practices the Queen of Hearts rule, correct?"

"well... yes and no?"

Riddle felt a twitch, how could you follow someone like the queen of hearts without following all her rules to a T? You're basically making a mockery of her... what a joke..

"My kingdom believes in what she stand for. Strength and Beauty! like a Rose with their thorns. Roses are used of many things, but they are not push overs. That's what we believe."

You took a sip but continued.

"Before i was accepted into Night Raven College, I was a part of another school, Rose Royal Academy. You could think of it as if Heartslabyul was a whole school. You could say i was the "housewarden" so i understand how things should run."

Riddle looked at you surprised. Honestly he was only listening partly to what you were saying, he was distracted by the way your lips moved... But he was quick grounded after hearing you were borderline a housewarden??

"Wait! how could you run a whole school without following all the rules of the queen of hearts?? It would have been mayhem! The students need structure, if not theyre just wild beast!!"

You looked at him surprised and kinda insulted by the idea of your classmates before were "such beast.' You coughed but answered his question.

"it wasnt like we didnt have rules, we just had 5."

You took a sip of tea as Riddle coughed.

"5?!?!"

"Yes. 5."

You placed your cup down and held up 5 fingers to name the rules.

"1, don't be late. Everyone should be punctual with time unless there's an emergency. 2, always do your cleaning day. Everyone has a task to clean a part of the school, classroom, dorms, gym, cafeteria, even the rose gardens. This place is our home and it will not be tolerated living in a mess! 3, no running in the halls. You could hurt someone or even hurt yourself. Running is only allowed for gym or emergency. 4, always respect and be kind to each other. We should all aim to help each other. And if you don't like someone, agree to disagree or compromise. 5, never let the house warden president mad. If you break one of the rules with a valid reason, your punishment will be light. If i smell deceive, your punishment will be swift and one to remember."

You both sat there for a minute of silences.

"w-well, thats how i ran things. we still had unbirthday parties, tea parties, etc. but overall those were the rules."

Riddle sat there staring, kinda like watching a wheel turning. he was about to respond to you before a knock was heard from the door.

"come in!"

Trey walked in with Cater following behind.

"we're hear with the repor- oh! sorry are we interrupting?"

"oooo~ what's happening here~? this seems very romantic."

Riddle's face turned red.

"what?!? its just a-"

"Riddle invited to talk about my years before NRC. I should be heading out anyway. I have to get some books in the library."

Riddle jumped up from his seat.

"if you need a book, i might have one here..?"

Trey and Cater stood to the side watching there Housewarden fumble at you.

"heh.. its alright. i asked the librarian to hold that book for me a few days ago. Thank you though. And thank you for the tea. Good bye."

You bowed your head as you walked out. Trey and Cater quickly turned to their friend, noticing how red he is..

"awww.. sorry for interrupting your little date house warden~"

"Hem-! Cater, i expect the roses in the hallways to be all clean and have fresh water before curfew.."

"a...ah... okay."

Trey holds in a laugh.

~~~

The next coming days, Riddle watches you help the other Heartslaybul students, in there tasks or school work. The students started to call you their Rose mom. Sweet and gentle but will show thorns if underestimated.

He has watched you tell a student to go finished their assignment for a class their falling behind and let you finished their cleaning task.

He also watched you help Ace, Deuce, Prefect, and Grim with an assignment with Crewel.

He watched you help Trey in the kitchen and watched you help Cater set the table for an unbirthday party.

With everything you do that made his heart flutter, you do something that made him wish that you would help him, mainly stay by his side.

A dark part of him wanted to keep you to himself and personally train you to stay by his side. That sweet attitude of yours should be his and his alone.

He'll make you his prefect rose. if he shaped you just right, his mother might accept you as a daughter-in-law. With you by his side, he could do anything.

So just wait a little longer, he'll get everything ready for you~

~~~

[celestiababie]

A Handful - K.MG

Pairings: Stay at home husband! Mingyu x fem! reader

Genre: fluff, highly suggestive (18+), domestic!au, established relationship!

Warnings: PREGNANT READER, chest fondling (m and f receiving), cursing, Mingyu is a little shit, reader is hormonal and easily annoyed, Mingyu possibly has a breeding kink, reader is shorter than Mingyu, let me know if I need to add anything else!

Word Count: 915 (short but I was on hiatus and this is the first thing I'm writing in MONTHS)

Summary: Your husband is no stranger to being touchy and clingy, but he's been especially annoying ever since you gave him the big news.

A/N: I'M MOTHERFUCKING BACK!!! I hope you guys enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing this. For reference, this acts as a small prequel to a small series I have about stay at home husband/dad! Mingyu. You don't have to read the other parts, but I will leave a link to the series masterlist just in case people want to read it. Please leave feedback, I'd really appreciate it, especially since I'm a bit nervous about posting again haha.

Series Masterlist

A pair of warm hands suddenly wrap around your growing stomach, engulfing you as a gigantic presence looms over you. 

The shriek that escapes your lips is embarrassing, but not nearly embarrassing as your hands lose their grasp on the plate you were scrubbing, dropping it in the sink and causing the fine porcelain to shatter. 

"Shit—are you hurt, baby?" Your husband's voice echoes through the not yet completed kitchen, irking you more than it normally would. 

Spinning in his hold, you wipe your damp hands on the sides of your sweatpants before shooting him one of the deadliest (and sexiest) glares he's ever witnessed.

"No, I'm not hurt, but I keep telling you not to sneak up behind me when I'm doing the dishes! I don't even understand how your tall ass is that fucking quiet," you start, your brows furrowed as you hold your glare.

Mingyu opens his mouth to reply but can't get a single word out before you shush him with a single finger to the lips. 

"I'm not finished. And this is the fifth. No, the sixth time a plate has broken since we've moved here." 

"That's not that bad, Y/n," Mingyu defends with a pout accompanying his words.

You cock a brow at the tall man, scoffing at his pathetic defense, your tongue pressed into the side of your cheek.

Six plates is a lot for any man, but it becomes comical when it's only been a month and a half since moving into the new house with your klutz of a husband. 

"You've also spilled drinks. Many times. Dropped multiple glasses. And don't think that I'm stupid and don't know you dropped the bottle of wine Minghao gifted us. I was looking forward to drinking that. That's pretty bad, admit it, Gyu," you list off, enjoying how a deep rosiness reaches the tips of his ears, almost as deep as the wine you'd never be able to appreciate. 

Mingyu slowly turned your frame back around to face the sink once again. His hands roamed across your stomach, which was getting bigger and bigger with every day that passed.

 Like always, Mingyu felt his heart racing in his chest as he caressed your stomach, his body flooding with that overwhelming emotion he could only describe as true unconditional happiness and love for both of his girls. 

Okay, maybe he didn't know the sex of the baby yet, but his gut was telling him he was gonna be a father of a little baby girl, and he was sticking to it for now. His intuition rarely failed him, and if he hadn't stuck to his guns, he would have never got together with you. 

"You wouldn't be able to drink it right now anyway, baby. Let's focus on things I'm good at, hm? The kitchen is almost done, and the living room looks beautiful, if I do say so myself. I'm pretty good at painting, so I'll have the nursing done in no time. I just cooked my beautiful wife a wonderful meal that she was moaning about the entire time," he shamelessly declares, the smugness apparent in his voice. 

You bite back a sassy remark when you feel his hands traverse up your abdomen, gently grabbing your swollen breasts in his large hands to massage them carefully. Your head relaxes against him as you let out a deep sigh, your husband's skillful hands rubbing away the ache and soreness. 

Mingyu studied your blissful expression for what felt like the millionth time. He'd never grow tired of how your eyes would flutter shut, eyelashes resting on the tops of your cheeks as your pretty lips parted, taking deep breaths as you savored the feeling of his hands on your body. 

He tilts his head to bring his lips closer to your ear, "And I'm really good at making mommy feel good, isn't that right, baby?" 

Your eyes roll behind your eyelids as you let out a breathy laugh, amused but not surprised by your husband's antics.

"You're so annoying, Mingyu," you moan, practically purring your husband's name, which only inflates his ego more.

"How convenient for me; you've always looked so damn sexy when annoyed."

A light bulb lights up in your head as you watch your husband's back muscles as he walks over to the kitchen sink to set aside the dishes. 

Let's see how he likes it.

A Cheshire-like smirk paints your lips as you slowly come up behind your half-naked husband to wrap your arms around his waist, your stomach pressing against his tanned skin.

But much to your disappointment, Mingyu didn't give you the reaction you hoped for. 

"Gonna keep me company while I wash up?"

You frown and deeply exhale as you crawl your hands further up his torso. Your nails drag along his skin, which generates a shiver throughout his entire being, goosebumps forming on his skin. 

"No, I'm trying to give you a taste of your own medicine, but you're enjoying this too much," you reply, your fingers inching further with every word.

A low moan rumbles out of Mingyu as your hands feel up his sore chest from working out right before waking you for breakfast. 

Shit, his chest got even bigger. Damn, that home gym he insisted on. 

You watch as Mingyu writhes against you as your fingers trail over his nipples, a shaky breath forced out of his body as he grabs the edge of the sink.

He's so annoying.

[sexy-monster-fucker]

Confidant

Baby Billy Freeman x Reader

Summary: Reader is Billy’s pseudo agent, they’ve known each other their entire lives. When another job falls through for him, she is the only one who stays around.

CW: drinking, drunken sex, oral f!&m!receiving, baby billy never shuts up lol, SMUT

a/n: I finished Righteous Gemstones in less than a week and I am IN LOVE with it. As someone who was born and raised in Tennessee, I will have to fight myself on the Southern-isms I put into this. also sorry I don't really proofread.

~~~

“Of course fucking Eli convinced Aimee-Leigh not help at all! I was counting on HER to make this work,” he threw some notebook across the room, “Fucking bullshit! Eli Gemstone has always had it out for me! You know that, ever since he met me! Never gave me a single chance!” He gestured towards you in his frustration. You sat quietly nodding in agreement.

Baby Billy Freeman, a childhood star alongside his sister now washed-up preacher. And you, a girl raised just a few roads down from the Freeman Ranch, growing up alongside Baby Billy and his sister, Aimee-Leigh. You were friends before stardom, along with becoming somewhat his Agent in adulthood. You knew the ins-and-outs of his life. And here you were again at the end of another harebrained scheme that fell through. One thing about Baby Billy: he would do anything for some quick cash.

"Goddamn Gemstone and their stupid church!" He stomped his foot and ripped pages up. This is how he coped. He could not ever admit he was wrong so he had to go through his list of people to blame. Eli, Aimee-Leigh's husband, usually at the top of the list.

He paced around your living room. His face almost as red as the Marlboro crewneck he wore. Hands going straight to his head, eyes wide. You could see his mind racing.

"Such a fucking loser! I am talented! Eli is just plum ignorant! All he cares about is being on top! What about underdogs like us? Every bit of missionary work he does is so he looks good to the public," Billy walked in circles around your living room before plopping down onto the couch directly next to you.

His face rested in his hands, elbows propped up on his knees. Frustration painted his body, embarrassment that he had failed once again. He groaned into his hands.

You stared at him not sure how to comfort him. In all your years of knowing him, you knew he really just needed silence and for him to talk himself through it.

He reached one of his hands out to you, placing it on your exposed thigh. His other hand still holding his face, eyes not yet looking at you. “In all my years, you’re the only one who’s stuck by me, sweetheart,” he grumbled into his hand, the other rubbing your skin.

“Of course, Baby Billy,” you swallowed hard, “I believe you’ve got a talent that needs to be shared with the world.”

He looked to you slightly, “Yeah… That’s right. You have impeccable taste.” He flashed a white smile at you. Timidness painted the smile you returned. He slapped your thigh lightly, springing up to his feet. He exclaimed a holler.

“Where do you keep the liquor in this place?” He walked over to your cabinets rummaging through them. You joined him, opening up your liquor cabinet pulling out some tequila.

His eyes widened at you, “You keep the good stuff hidden from me don’t you, dollface.” You giggled at him. Grabbing two shot glasses, you poured the first round for both of you. He grabbed his off the counter, toasting you, “Here’s to us.” You clinked your shot with his, throwing it back. Billy sucked his teeth, “GodDAMN that’s good stuff. WHOO!” Warmth rose to your cheeks, an instant flush on your face. “Gimme another one of those,” he gestured with his glass. Both of you threw back another shot. Warmth melted down your throat. “We’re gonna have a great night tonight, Y/N,” Billy’s freehand went to your hip. You melted as he pulled you flush against his side.

You make cocktail after cocktail for Billy as the night got later. His cheeks buzzed with the alcohol in his system, a goofy grin painted on his face. He kept on and on about how one day the world would appreciate his talents. About how Eli was a “motherfucker with that church’s thumb shoved so far up his asshole he should be able to see God.” You agreed with everything he said. Drinking at a crawl compared to how quickly he put it down.

You sat together on your couch. Your legs rested across his lap, his hands resting on them. You both laughed drunkenly at something. Billy ran his hand up your legs, getting highly close to the warmth that had been brewing on you for hours. He leaned in closer to your torso.

He hooked one of his hands under your ass, pulling you closer into his lap. You stared into each other’s eyes. “You’re too good for me,” he smiled.

You blushed, “What do you mean?”

One of his hands went to your cheek, “No woman would stick around a man like me this long without a ring on her finger. Let alone one as dedicated as you. Always trying to book me gigs, staying up late to help me rehearse, cheering me on…” He smiled looking at you. “You’re a real gift from God, Y/N. I’m so lucky to have you at my side,” he pulled you closer and planted a kiss on your lips.

“You’re drunk, Baby Billy,” you laughed shyly.

“Not too drunk to know you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever had in my life,” he kissed your neck. You placed your hands against his chest, pushing him to look at you. His hooded eyes stared into yours, pupils blown with lust. “You just want to get laid,” you tried talking sense into him.

“No,” he protested, “No-No. If I just wanted to get laid I’d go down to the strip joint and have one of those bimbos hop on my cock. I’ve been stupid to not see what I’ve had in front of me for this long.” He leaned closer, his lips attaching to your neck again. You could not deny the arousal pooling deep inside you, your cotton panties growing soaked with each kiss on your skin.

“Come-Come on, Baby Billy. You and I b-both know you-you’re just trying to drown out your—“ a moan escaped your throat, “Drown out your sorrows and I-I’m just the clo-closest woman you can get t-to.” You stumbled over your words as he continued kissing your neck. His lips made their way up to your ear, “If I was looking for a quick pick-me-up I would be out drunk fucking some whore off the street. Don’t be so hard on yourself, darlin’.” His gruff Southern drawl was like honey dripping down your skin.

Maybe he really did want you. Maybe he really had just been blinded by his need for stardom that he never even considered pursuing you. He was praising you like you’d never been praised before.

Your hands went into his hair, leaning your head back to give him better access to your skin. “Atta girl,” he encouraged, his hot breath against your neck. “Baby Billy is gonna take care of you now. Real good care of you… all night,” he trailed his kissing down your collar, resting where your shirt laid. You felt him breathe out against your skin, a smile painted his face. You looked at him, your skin hot to the touch. He swatted at your exposed thigh, “Hop up on my lap now. Ole Baby Billy wants a better look at you.”

You readjusted to be straddling him. He admired you slack jawed. His hands ghosted down the sides of your body, stopping on your hips. “Good ole liquid courage, helping me realize what a good thing I’ve had right in front of me,” he chuckled. Billy’s hands pinched at your shirt, “Can I take this off?”

You nodded shyly. Billy hooked his fingers under your shirt, pulling it over your head and throwing it to the side. His eyes scanned your chest, a wide grin painting his face. “That sure is a pretty lace set you’ve got on,” he licked his lips. His hands cupped your breasts, squeezing them. His thumbs danced over your hardening nipples through the bra. You could see how laser focused he was on your chest. His ever growing erection becoming more obvious by the second against you. He placed his hand between the fabric and your breast, pinching your nipple ever slightly. You rolled your eyes at his touch, enjoying any attention he would give you. His lips found the exposed skin of your breast, kissing and biting at it. His hand pulled your breast out from your bra, lips quick to attach to your nipple. Sucking on it momentarily. A soft moan left your lips, causing Billy to smile against you. “You like my mouth on you, don’t you? Love those pretty noises you make, doll.”

You rolled your hips against his groin. Billy groaned against your skin, tightening his grip on you. His attention was now on your face, staring deeply into your eyes. His hand caressed the back of your neck, pulling you in for a sloppy kiss. Tongues fighting for dominance, teeth clanking together. Moans and grunts being shared between you.

“I’m gonna fuck you senseless tonight, girly,” he growled into your mouth. You smiled, pressing the weight of your body into him. His back was flush against the couch now as you began kissing his neck. Billy threw his head back, his Adams Apple bobbing with each breath he took. His hands danced up your body, small praises falling from his lips. His fingers went around your back fidgeting with the clasps of your bra. He unhooked your bra, pulling the straps down your arms. Once fully off, he took it and threw it to the side. Wide eyes stared at your bare chest.

“My, my,” his hands grabbed your breasts, “I think God may have put the most beautiful tits I’ve ever seen on you.” He palmed at your skin, your nipples becoming hard at his touch. “Fittin’ perfectly in my hands and everything,” he smiled up at you. Your skin was red hot as he laid compliment after compliment on you. Every touch sending lightning through your body, pooling in your ever growing arousal. You adjusted your hips, feeling his erection directly against your soaked core. A slight moan escaped you.

Billy’s hand traveled down to your shorts, running two fingers against your clothed folds. You closed your eyes taking in the slight friction he gave you, your legs shuddering slightly. “So fucking warm, darlin’. Bet you’re soaked under them daisy dukes,” he stared at your body. He admired you. A gorgeous woman straddling him. His cock was begging to be released from its confines.

You stepped off his lap, receiving a dissatisfied whine from Baby Billy. You began removing your shorts painfully slow in front of him. Billy smiled when he realized what you were doing, spreading his legs to enjoy the show. Your shorts pooled around your ankles revealing the matching lace thong you wore. Billy’s head fell slightly to the side, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. You spun around for him quickly, letting him take you in before walking over and kneeling in front of him. His brows raised quickly, eyes unable to leave you. You began with the button of his jeans, slowly pulling his zipper down. His hand slipped down his jeans, pulling his clothed cock out. You salivated at the sight of his tent. You wanted him badly, wanted him inside you anyway he was willing to give it. You doed your eyes up at him.

Billy bit his lip staring down at you. You ran your hands up his thighs, stopping them beside his erection. You leaned down placing an open mouthed kiss on the still clothed member. Billy’s breath sputtered, rolling his neck and licking his teeth. Finding your way inside his boxer-briefs, you pulled out his cock. It sprung up at you. You gawked at it for a moment, eyes completely blown with lust. Tip swollen and leaking pre-cum, a vein on the underside popping out. You licked a stripe up the underside, placing a kiss on the tip. Billy moaned loudly, his hips jolting at the contact.

“You sure do know how to get a man fired up,” he chuckled lightly, breathless. You took him into your mouth quickly, causing his eyes to spring open. He sat up slightly, his cock going deeper in your mouth. Desperate hands found your hair, tugging you up and down on his member. He held you in place at the base, your nose resting on the hair surrounding his cock. Gentle thrusts came from him, his eyes squinted shut and head thrown back. “God gave you a gift! Goddamn! Y/N, sweetheart— Jesus Christ,” he moaned hardly able to find his words. Sweat beamed down his face, his clothes growing tighter on his body the more you went down on him. “You look so good with my dick shoved down your throat,” he praised looking you in the eyes.

His hand caressed the underside of your chin as he face fucked you. “Get up,” he insisted. You sucked off him with a pop of his cock. A shaky breath escaped him. You both stood before one another. Billy began removing his own clothes, his crewneck the first thing to go. Your hands found the waistline of his pants, helping him undress. He was quick to plant a kiss on your lips, his hands grabbing your face.

You admired his lightly toned body. How covered in sweat he was, watching as his chest rose and fell with every deep breath he took.

He stepped out of his under garments, pushing you back onto the couch. He was on top of you, his lips never detaching. They found their way down your neck, traveling lower and lower down your body. He kissed right above your panties, smirking up at you, “This pretty thing for little ole me?” You nodded, encouraging him. His large hands spread your thighs apart. Your panties were darkened from where you had soaked through them. His eyes widened at the sight. A toothy, white grin painting his face. Two of his fingers played with your opening, pressing your panties into it. You rolled your hips with his touch, moaning his name. “Ooo, sound real pretty like that,” he praised. Lips found your inner thighs, biting and kissing the soft skin. A slight shake decorated your legs. Anticipation weighed on you. His finger began making circles on the covered nub. Electricity jolted through you.

Fingers hooked around the thin strap of your underwear. He guided them down your legs which now rested on his shoulders. His breath sent chills up your body as it hit your aching core. Black eyes stared at your exposure, “This has got to be the sexiest pussy I’ve ever seen.” Your hand found his hair, running fingers through it. He looked up to see your face painted with need. A need who knew how to fill.

His mouth attached to your throbbing clit. Your head threw back, his name a complete scream on your lips. You felt him moan into your cunt, his tongue working absolute magic on your lower half. Fingers interlocking with his hair, grinding into his face. A knot in your belly began twisting tighter and tighter. If he continued like this, your orgasm would wash over you shortly.

He pulled away abruptly. Rising to his feet, stroking his cock as he stood above you. You stared at the member in his hand. "I'm gonna fuck you now, pretty thing," he huffed out with a grin. His weight fell into the edge of the couch with his knees, propping your legs on each of his shoulders. He positioned himself, easing his way inside your sopping entry. He stared down where he entered you completely slack jawed. You squirmed and moaned his name loudly. "That's it. You take Baby Billy so good," he breathed out. He fully sheathed himself inside you, taking a deep breath and looked into your eyes. Your eyes were hooded as you stared up at him. He pulled back, nearly removing himself completely before thrusting back into you.

He began a relentless pace with you. The sound of skin smacking echoed through your entire home. It was completely euphoric for you both. You had never had someone this good. His cock perfectly filled you up, stretching you just enough.

"Darlin', you're so fucking tight," he groaned, "You squeeze my cock perfect." He bent one of your legs, his fingers finding their way to your throbbing clit. You were seeing stars when he started rubbing circles against you. You called out to him, your head falling back into the couch. You felt the coil inside you ready to spring free.

"Baby Billy, I'm gonna cum," you cried out.

A wicked grin came across his face, "Please, pretty girl. Cum on Baby Billy's cock." He picked up his pace working you to your finish. Your walls fluttered around his cock, practically milking him. He moaned loudly as you finished around him. Your orgasm pushed him over the edge. His thrusts grew sloppy. He shot ropes of cum inside you. Continuing thrusting making sure to get every drop inside you. He leaned his head back with a loud groan.

Gently, he laid your legs back down, his cock slipping out of you. Remnants of him spilled out of you. He leaned down on top of you, smiling and placing a tender kiss on your lips. Scooping up what had spilled out, he placed two fingers inside you. Aftershock from your orgasm caused you to pulse around his fingers. "Wanna keep that in there," he kissed you again. You wrapped your arms around his neck, smiling up at him. He had worked your body perfectly. You enjoyed the softness between you both, how he kissed all over your face and neck, whispering praises about how good you were.

"I hope you recover quick, sweetheart," he chuckled, "Baby Billy wants to go all night with you."

That went straight to your core.

"Gonna have you filled up like a fucking boston creme donut when I'm done," he whispered into your ear, kissing your neck.

A fun night was ahead of you.

~~~

END

[Thank you for reading!  If you are interested in being tagging in any of my writings don’t be afraid to message me!  All tag lists are open!  I have a master taglist and one for each character!]

Tags:

@anamelessfool ~ @vaultdwellingghoullover ~ @ivyinthesun ~

[split-spectrum]

Concessions

Pairings: Obi Wan/FemReader

Warnings/Tags: (more to come) sexually explicit content, explicit language, edging, orgasm denial (like a lot of it - that's the whole fic)

Chapter Length: 3K

Description: Obi Wan chooses to undertake a trial that prevents him from sex for one year, and asks you to serve as his witness. As his close friend, you don't mind helping him.

The rules of the trial are very clear. You make it your personal mission to find the exceptions.

☆☆☆

"They call it the Nikkama."

"A full cycle?"

He pauses, taking in your incredulous tone. "Yes. A full Coruscant cycle."

"And you're asking me to... what, participate?" 

He shakes his head. "Of course not. This is simply a... personal matter for me."

You raise a brow even higher than it already was, not saying anything in response. He seems to be on the edge of an explanation, but never quite getting there. Your silence invites him to continue. 

"By the end of a standard year, it is my goal to come away with a new understanding of the Force, and of myself."

"That's very... respectable," you manage. "So, if you need someone as the keeper of this... trial, why not ask a master? Why me?"

His eyes search your face. He's trying to determine if you're toying with him. The truth is, you have an idea of why he wouldn't approach Yoda about this, but you want to hear him say it. 

"I had... rather thought it would be obvious."

So you had guessed correctly. But he won't admit it. 

You smirk; an acquiescence. You won't make him dance around the details any longer. You are friends, after all. Friends who happen to know one another more intimately than most friends do - the real reason he's come to you with this request. 

"Alright. Tell me the rules."

--

No sex. That's the essence of it. 'Seeking bliss through denial', as the ancient Jedi texts stated it. To complete the trial, one must deny themselves the pleasures of the flesh for the time it takes the Jedi temple to finish one full cycle. 

The rules are quite simple: The Jedi must make the trial known to one witness - the keeper. The Jedi can not bring themselves to completion through sex or by any other means. There are allowances, of course. Orgasms beyond the Jedi's control are permitted. This way, one cannot fail the trial while sleeping. Finally, the Jedi must not speak of the trial with anyone aside from the keeper. Like many other trials, it was a battle meant to be fought internally.

If he failed, Obi Wan had explained to you that he could not simply begin again. One was not allowed to attempt the Nikkama for ten more cycles. It was not meant to be taken lightly. Much like everything Obi Wan has ever done, but especially like the things he's been doing lately. 

Since becoming master of the Chosen One, it seems like all he's done is push himself, as if trying to prove he's worthy of the position. Having known him since padawanhood, his capability has always been clear to you. But with his new responsibilities, he seems to be seeking new and creative ways to strain himself. You know nothing you say will be enough to slow him down, so most of the time, you can only offer your begrudging support. 

Three months in to this latest self-imposed trial, you can already tell the strain is starting to wear on him. 

"Anakin, I've told you before," his voice carries over the crowd of padawans on the landing platform as you walk past. "The way we present ourselves is a choice."

"Yes, master," mumbles the boy in front of him, his eyes clearly more focused on the ship he's about to board than his master's words. 

"...and today you've chosen to present yourself to professor Huyang with a wrinkled robe because you did not hang it properly as I asked, did you?"

"Sorry, master." Anakin's words are contrite, but the way he shrugs Obi Wan's arm off his shoulder says this will not be the last conversation they have about it. 

Obi Wan looks around, clearly asking the Force for patience. He squeezes a blink just a little longer than normal, gathering himself, and when he opens his eyes, he catches you watching the display. You press your upper lip down into a poorly-hidden grin and keep walking, using the mug of caf you'd retrieved from the refectory in the temple's main hall to hide your smile.

Once Anakin is sent on his way with the other padawans, Obi Wan strides down the hall to match your pace.

"I saw that," he grouses. He's putting on a half-joking tone, but you can tell there's a current of real irritation running beneath. "You won't find it quite so entertaining when you have a padawan of your own."

You let your grin loose. "That's the beauty of volunteering for the most distant and dangerous missions. They can't keep me at the temple long enough to assign me one."

It's an exaggeration you're putting on for him, but it's partially true - you do tend to volunteer for the most exciting assignments you can find. That's where you and Obi Wan differ the most. Part of you craves adventure in a way that's almost unbecoming of a Jedi. Obi Wan starkly contrasts your eagerness, content with whatever duties he's given. He always has the serene air of a proper Jedi knight about him. And you truly enjoy pushing his buttons until his calm demeanor breaks. 

"You look like you could use one of these," you tell him, changing the subject by pointing to the mug in your hand. 

He looks down at your hand, then glances dejectedly out of one of the windows as you pass it. "Oh, I could use something much stronger than that. If only I had the time. I promised Master Sinube I would help him question some suspects for an investigation this afternoon."

You click your tongue against your teeth. "Poor thing."

"Yes, no rest for the wicked, it seems."

"More like 'no rest for the stubborn'." 

He gives you a look. 

"No rest for the decidedly overbooked," you go on, pushing those lovely buttons of his. 

He sighs, shaking his head in annoyed bemusement and not rising to your bait. 

You turn to face him before your path peels away, dropping your antagonizing grin. "If you're too busy this afternoon, what about this evening? We could meet up in my quarters for 'something stronger' if you'd like. I have a bottle of Alderaanian red that's been gathering dust."

"Hm. Dusty wine; how very tempting," he sniffs, crossing his arms at you. 

You roll your eyes, but he doesn't give you a chance to retort. 

"It's a kind offer, but-"

"But, Anakin is gone for the week and you'd rather be alone in your quarters, falling asleep early?"

"Well, yes, in fact, I would."

You shrug. "Do as you please, then. My charitable offer stands, if you decide you'd rather enjoy yourself than become a hermit at the ripe age of twenty-seven."

You turn down an adjacent hallway, leaving his mood behind you without another thought. 

--

Later that night - very much later, in fact - you had almost forgotten about your offer when a knock at the door to your private quarters reminds you. 

"Obi Wan."

You won't spoil the surprise by gloating, though you sorely want to. You just smile instead, glad to see him despite his dour expression. 

His lifts his eyes tiredly. "Might I request that you hold off on any clever commentary until I have my promised drink?"

Your grin broadens as you step to the side, inviting him in. "You might request it, but my cleverness won't be silenced." 

Passing you, he manages to flick up an eyebrow despite his otherwise muted demeanor. "Oh, dear. If I had known you'd started without me, I'd have-"

"You'd have come sooner?" you finish for him, sweeping up the bottle on your counter and topping off your glass. 

He drapes himself over your couch, sinking into the cushions as he spreads an arm over the side. 

"I may not have come at all. I would have gone to my quarters and gotten some well-deserved-" You hand him a filled glass. "Thank you. Some well-deserved rest." 

He finishes his statement with a long sip, then swirls the glass and closes his eyes, pinching his brow with his other hand. 

You just roll your eyes, nudging his boots to the side and sinking into the couch next to him. "Master Sinube really putting you through your paces, then?"

He sighs through his nose. "Master Sinube is a wonderful teacher in the art of... patience."

Your lip quirks upward. His patience has never been tested before by the kindly old Cosian. And it's rather odd for Obi Wan to admit it. You consider pointing it out, but seeing him so worn out by the experience dampens your desire to wind him up. You turn on the holovid screen instead. 

"After a few more glasses of this, trust me, you'll feel better."

--

When you awaken, you feel something soft and warm beneath your face. It's the cloth of Obi Wan's tunic. 

Your head is buzzing faintly as you press your nose into the fabric, breathing him in. You only marginally care that what you're doing is inappropriate. It's been a long time since you've been this close, and you can blame the drinks if you really must.

You swallow, blinking slowly as you register that the room is filled with the sound of some holodrama you've never watched before. The music is swelling, and you reach over Obi Wan's chest to press the volume button on the remote. His head turns, following your movement though he's still half-asleep. 

You feel his breathing pattern change below your cheek, and you look up at him. His long eyelashes part slowly. His body shifts so that he's facing you, though he removes the arm that had fallen to your shoulder. He puts a hand on the back of the couch. 

And he looks at you.

The moment where he should have moved away - where one of you should have - comes and goes.

You lift your face, staring at his lips. You know you're caught in his gaze. He's watching you, not saying a word. 

The idea of leaning up to press your lips onto his is so far removed from your mind that it's basically an impossibility. You aren't padawans stealing moments in the temple anymore. Your heart doesn't pound with the fear that you'll give into your baser instincts. You're fully aware of what you're enjoying - the look in his eyes; the space between your mouths. Holding your faces so close that it's almost another kind of kiss. 

Then you shift your hips, just slightly, and you feel it. You feel the way his clothes pull tight at his center. Your leg brushes the taught line of fabric just below his stomach, running up his thigh. 

Considering his circumstances, it's a normal reaction. You tell yourself this as you feel a blush spreading over your face and down your neck. It's a physical response to repressing his body's urges. You try not to take it personally. You won't mention it. 

You blink, lowering your gaze from his and starting to extricate yourself from his side. He swallows, pulling away from you.

"I'm sorry-" His voice is throaty and a bit slurred. "I-"

The inner side of your hip brushes against him as you turn to get up, and a soft, almost dejected moan pours out of him. He snaps his mouth shut. You freeze, looking up at him.

That noise will not be so easy to avoid taking personally.

Suddenly he's sitting up. "Terribly sorry, I- I don't know what came- came over- "

You force a smile, though your heart is racing, and you pat his shoulder. "Don't worry about it. Only nine more months to go, right?"

A slight look of relief passes over his wide eyes. "Yes," he agrees, clearly grateful you've decided to blame the trial and not him. "Yes. Quite right. My apologies."

When Obi Wan finishes his many further apologies and excuses himself, leaving you alone in your quarters, you are grateful for one thing: As you lie back in your bed, imagining the way his hips had twitched at the slightest brush, you thank the stars that the Nikkama doesn't go both ways. 

--

You'd had your fun. 

That's what you keep reminding yourself. When you have to keep your eyes from lingering a little too long during a shared smile. When your heart kicks up a little faster anytime you see that he's returned safely from some far-off world. When you kiss someone else and it doesn't feel the same. 

The Jedi are not forbidden from physical pleasures. There's no reason not indulge in sex, so long as attachment isn't involved. But when you'd both realized as padawans that kissing and touching was swiftly turning into longing and wondering, you'd agreed it was for the best not to continue. 

That conversation was so long ago, and the boy who'd made that promise was so far removed from the man who was currently pinning you down on the training room floor. 

"Yield," he pants, teeth glistening in the fading sunlight. His breath is hot, and you're swallowing it with gasps of your own. 

You flex your thighs, using the Force to lift both of you off of the ground. "Not until you've beaten me."

Huffing an exasperated laugh, he looks over your head in disbelief. Then he tightens his grip on the hand that holds your lightsaber and feels where your thumb is located. He stills. You're holding the empty hilt against his side, and your thumb is just below the pressure sensor. You grin, open-mouthed, sweaty, and undefeated. 

"In a non-lethal match, I have indeed beaten you."

You're just about to reply when he crushes your wrist in his palm, wrenching it upward and holding both of your arms harmlessly above your head. You yelp in surprise and no small amount of pain as he presses the weight of his body onto you, holding himself up by pinning you down. 

"But just for good measure - there," he says, digging his knees onto either side of your hips to hold you still. "Now yield."

You struggle against him, but it's like trying to break out of a durasteel cage. Then you catch sight of a dewy patch of golden skin and make a move that neither of you are expecting. 

Your teeth sink into his neck before you can catch the impulse, and the muscles there vibrate when he gasps in shock. He releases your hands, but catches them again quickly. His face is suddenly flushed when he pulls away.

"There can be some honor in defeat, you know," he scowls down at you. 

You smirk, pleased at getting a rise out of him. "A Jedi doesn't accept defeat with any reasonable chance at victory."

You lift your hips again, this time sending a concentrated pulse through the Force to try and wriggle out from under him. He holds you steady and you rock to one side, attempting to flip him off and reverse your positions, but to no avail. You take a few deep breaths, then try rolling your hips one last time. 

"Stop that."

His tone snaps you out of your concentration. You look up to see him glaring down at you, looking unsteady for the first time in your match. You hesitate, then decide to take the opportunity he's giving and make the same move again. You grind your body against him and watch as his eyes widen. He releases your wrists and rolls off of you, standing up. 

"I yield."

His turns his back on you, stalking over to where you've left your water canteens, and takes a long drink. 

You lie there a moment in stunned silence, then shake it off and stand up, following him. "Are you... okay? What was that?"

"It's nothing," he snips back immediately.

Then you see his shoulders soften and he turns to face you. "Forgive me. I'm not... feeling very well."

He gives you a forced smile, then reaches to pick up his robe from the floor. "Perhaps we could continue this later?"

You shrug, at a loss. "Sure."

"Very well," he answers, heading for the doorway. "Thank you."

You frown, his sudden formality making you uneasy. "Obi Wan... did I do something wrong?"

"No," he says, shaking his head. "I just need to get some rest."

You take a beat before pressing him again. "I'm sorry about the bite."

He sighs. "There's no need to apologize. The fault is mine. Perhaps... it would just be best if we hold off any sparring sessions for the time being."

"Oh?" you ask quietly. "For how long?"

"Just... just for now."

You furrow your brow. Then it clicks. "Until the end of the Nikkama?"

He looks caught-out, sending his gaze past you.

Of course. It's been six months, now. He hasn't mentioned it, but you might have known by his mood.

Now you're the one struggling to make eye contact. You pick up your own canteen, drinking, then wiping your mouth. 

"Is it that bad?" you finally ask.

He lets out a soft laugh. "Well, it's not meant to be easy."

There's a long, unbroken silence as you wonder how to approach this. Or whether to approach it, at all. 

"Do you... want to talk about it?"

He shakes his head. "It's simply a matter of discipline. There isn't much to talk about."

"Well," you tell him slowly, carefully. "I've read the texts. And I want you to know that if you need... help, getting through to the end, I'm here for you."

His face drops. "What does that mean?"

You take a step closer, your heart pounding as you try to put the words together. "The trial has rules against you seeking pleasure. But, everyone has needs. And if you aren't seeking it... if it- it just happens..."

He looks down at the space between your bodies, and it's like you can see every thought running through his head. He doesn't answer for a very long time. 

"Anything that were to happen," he says in a low tone, nearly a whisper. "Would need to be without my request."

Your breath is shortening with every word he says. "You asked me to help you with this," you reply. "And we are friends, are we not?"

He nods. "Of course."

"Then if you need it, let me help you."

Your hand tingles as you reach out to touch his side. He gently takes your hand and lowers it, almost grazing between his legs, and holds you there just a moment too long. 

Your fingers lift from his hand to unclasp his belt, but he pulls you back. 

"No," he says, swallowing and letting out a few slightly labored breaths. "No, I wouldn't- No."

You wait for an explanation, but he doesn't finish his thought.

"Well, as long as you know the offer stands," you tell him, straightening up. "If you change your mind..."

"I won't," he cuts you off. "There is no- no need."

Smiling for his benefit, you nod. "Of course. My mistake."

You can feel his gaze follow you as you bend over to pick up your own robe and brush past him out the door. 

In any other situation, Obi Wan would hold his own in a debate. He's quite well known for having opinions that aren't easily swayed.

In this matter, against your better judgment, you find yourself wondering if you might be the exception. 

--

A/N: I'm planning for this to be a short multi-chapter, maybe 3-5. Completely self-induglent. I want this man to be edged within an inch of his life. I want him whimpering, your honor.

On a side note, forgive me for this interruption in posting Water and Rock! It's been challenging because I've needed to basically write the full ending before I can be sure the plot/pacing is right for this chapter. It will be up soon, promise! In the meantime I've been using this side fic as a bit of a creative outlet lol.

As always, if you'd like to be tagged for this fic, feel free to comment or message me. :)

[eldritch-spouse]

I'd give almost anything to be squished between Vesper and Santi.

[You'll give your holes, that's for sure. Fem reader.]

" Are you sure I'm ready? "

Santi watches you squirm in place, picking and plucking at an outfit that shows more skin than anything you've ever put on before. He assured you, several times, that by the standards of Lust you're being very conservative.

The incubus rolls his eyes for what feels like the hundredth time, but tries to be patient. After all, going to Hell, even if just for a little visit, isn't something all humans treat casually. Especially not his darling match, poor thing that you are, so ignorant of his origins, his nature. Visiting the King of Lust specifically is twofold the stress for your little head, he must imagine.

" And why wouldn't you be, love? "

You huff.

" I... I don't know... What if I get nervous and say something really stupid? This is a -What did you call them?- An Icon of Hell, I can't be making a fool of myself- "

" Dearest. " The dark demonoid interrupts, lifting himself off a lush bed to stand behind your figure in the mirror. " Vesper may be a King, but he's also my friend. I only want him to know about us, you're going to do just fine. "

Averting your gaze from his, your lips are still firmly set in a frown.

Santi whispers sweetly. " Don't you trust me? "

" Y- Yes. "

There's a grin. He plays with the hem of your scarce top enough to let a nipple flash for a lurid second.

" Then do this one favor for me, I promise you'll like him. He's quite the character. " Understatement.

He can hear your heartbeat pound inside the vehicle.

The trip through his birth Ring has been uneventful for the most part. It could only have been that. You may be considered fresh meat by his kin that inhabit this particular zone of Hell, but you're accompanied by a high-ranker and being escorted in a limousine sporting the royal insignia.

No one would dare interfere.

It doesn't stop the curious glances, the oohs and aahs, or the sights Lust often has on display. The streets are an open ground for depravity, it's very standard to watch pairs and groups of demonoids crawling over each other in a cacophony of moans, humans and monsters alike giving into their carnal whims, lewd smiles on their faces as they're paraded in fetish gear and shown off like the prizes many of them are.

Santi watches your scandalized expressions as you nearly fog up the window in morbid curiosity.

" S- Santi! "

" Mm? "

" They're- Oh lord, they're tied to a post Santi! "

He arches a brow, fingers ceasing their casual groping of your thighs to glance out, seeing some poor sod of a human tied to a street post by the wrists. They look disheveled and pant in exertion, sweaty, infernal obscenities scribbled on their skin while gratuitous amounts of seed ooze out of their orifices. They lean on the post for support.

" Oh, the poor thing- " He jests, failing to keep straight-faced at your glare. " They're going to keel over! "

The fiend who had just finished using the community cumdump gives them a loving pat on the head and reaches from a bag to offer the human water. The two appear to be chatting idly. Santi watches confusion etch itself in your pretty complexion at the contrast of the human's bruised, exhausted state and the care they're shown by the one you recognize as an assailant.

The nature of Lust is conflicting.

It's oftentimes hard to tell whether or not someone is here of their own volition, partaking and letting go because they decided to, or because they caved under the Ring's influence and began to enjoy their unfortunate demise.

Some people argue that Lust is the most merciful Ring of Hell for those that get dragged into the annex, because while you may lose yourself, your last lucid moments are spent in utter bliss, and that bliss is what you'll know from henceforth. Others argue that Lust offers the ultimate humiliation of the soul, turning you into a beast of the flesh that craves only to use and be used.

Santi doesn't quite care. The end result is always the same, everyone enjoys themselves here.

Deciding that perhaps it's best not to let you get too into your own head, the incubus looms behind your concentrated figure and plants soft kisses on the back of your neck, gently coaxing you to turn around so he can pull you into his lap and shower you in idle affections.

" Santi... " You start while he kisses the back of your hand.

" Yes, love? "

" How did you and the King meet? "

What a question.

He doesn't want to think too much about those days, that past which seems so distant yet not at all. He was someone else, back then. Someone harsher, someone you wouldn't have fancied, someone who'd make you quake in fear even if your loins sang. He wouldn't have been able to appreciate you for the treasure that you are, during that period. You deserve more than that, you're worth the world and all its pleasures.

" I don't remember all that well anymore, but I know it was during a party, sweetness. " He vaguely replies.

" An orgy. " You correct him, having started to put two and two together about the cultural cues of a concubus' speech.

" Same thing. " Santi counters, knowing very well there's a difference.

A silence settles for a brief couple of moments where the incubus gets to close his eyes and bask in the comfort of your perfect form, feeling your every muscle twitch against him, the hitch of your breath as arousal has yet to fade from your system.

He's doing this intentionally.

For things to go well today, it's ideal for you to always be somewhat stimulated. Plus, he's always loved watching you writhe and try to conceal your own desires. Not as much as Santi adores seeing you boldly demand he do obscenities to you. For you. To please you.

" You used to live here before, right? "

" Mhmm... " He hums smoothly.

" What made you want to leave Hell? "

Santi halts, gathering his thoughts, coming up with a decently abstract yet still valid answer.

" I wasn't happy with myself back then, love. I figured a change of scenery couldn't hurt. "

Half-truths, oh bittersweet as they are, he almost doesn't feel bad when you smile your blind acceptance.

" I'm glad you decided to leave. "

The monster's heart stirs in its confines.

" What, you wouldn't want to move in here? The heart of Lust? " Santi mocks.

" Fuck no- "

And he cackles.

You've entered mansion grounds.

This sly-eyed imp with pointed hair introduced himself as King Vesper's head imp, and has been escorting you two through the halls of the royal mansion so far.

If you had to describe the place, you'd call it deceptive.

Deceptively ornate. Suspiciously calm. Questioningly beautiful.

There's something amiss, is a better way to put the vibe of this location.

Varying shades of pink fade invitingly into purples and reds that seem to comfort and beckon. Many were the gold-swirled corners and turns that you peered into momentarily before returning to following the guide. The furniture and décor is just standardly royal enough to make you wonder if many of the set ups are meant to be as phallic and yonic as they seem. You could swear one of the walls had patterns carved into it that resembled the vulvas of countless individuals. A statue was poised just suggestively enough that it resembled malehood. Many are the paintings and figurines scattered across walls and vases depicting pairs and groups of lovers entangled in dirty yet passionate acts. Are the objects on the shelves meant to be sex toys or just peculiarly shaped abstract figurines?

When passing by what Lacai called the "Hall of His Majesty's Favorite Commissions", Santi covered your eyes occasionally. As far as you could tell, it appeared to be furnished with many differently styled depictions of Vesper's raunchy adventures with a plethora of his attractive playmates. You trust Santi's judgement that maybe some of them are too potent for the human eye.

Since the moment you set foot here, your grip on the dark incubus' hand has been iron-like, trying to siphon some of his calmness. Santi looks absolutely enamored with some of the design choices present, making you wonder if maybe he'll do some tweaking to your living space later.

" And we've arrived. " The imp, previously idly chatting with your lover, exclaims.

Two incredibly tall doors separate you three from whatever lies beyond. Infernal is engraved in them, statements you can't discern, stylized in a type of perfect, gentle cursive and accompanied by sculpted tendrils embracing the torsos of emerging demonoid figures sporting androgynous builds.

You can't help but get lost in the expressions of such visceral bliss captured in their faces. They appear to be molds, almost. Alive. Suffering the torments of eternal pleasures. Grotesque, beautiful. Maybe you really are Santi's match after all... Or maybe that's this sweet smell you've been drowning in for a while getting into your head.

" King Vesper will welcome you shortly, if you need anything, do scream my name. "

A wink, directed at both of you, and the head servant is gone, slinking back into the previous halls without a moment's notice.

Perhaps your gulp was a little too loud.

" Deep breaths, you know what's going to happen- " Santi pulls you into a big-titted hug, rubbing your goosebump-riddled skin. " No need to sweat about it. "

Much more easily said than done.

Chuckling and giggling is heard from the other end of the doors.

" There there, all set to rights, head on out honey. "

One of the massive doors parts forward, and a small hand struggles to find balance upon it. A grayish monster woman emerges, shaky, glazed eyes unaware of either of you. She tries to rearrange her fur and tuck loose tufts into her clumsily worn suit, but only succeeds in nearly wobbling to the floor. The stacks of paper and cases under her right arm tell you that this woman came here for some kind of diplomatic task, and probably didn't get much done...

Santi politely helps the lady step forward, unable to wipe away the only slightly mocking grin on his face.

" Do come again, I believe our business isn't quite complete! "

The same voice calls.

It's hard to describe it. Strong, potent, undeniably demanding of everyone's attention to a scary degree, but also loving, desperate, begging you to listen, to come closer. Velveteen reverence and the authority of someone who can take it away from you in the snap of a finger, a tempter, a lover, a challenger.

You don't need to think too hard to understand whose voice that is.

The poor woman mumbles some kind of exasperated farewell before she too disappears into the same halls Lacai had left through.

You recall a conversation about royal etiquette you had earlier with Santi. When the King of Lust accepts a request for a meeting, even if he's not being summoned, it's considered polite and common sense to also bring him something to eat. This meal could come in the form of a second person, or the requester themself. You suppose you know the choice the monster girl made.

" Next please! "

A shudder wracks its way down your body, but a firm warm hand on the small of your back prevents you from stepping back.

You're guided forward, into what appears to be a lavish lounge room, sharing the same inviting tonalities from before. Big couches and beds and tall mirrors with rails and steps spread across the room, even what you think is meant to be a pretty discreet altar in the middle, disguised as an artistic design choice. A neatly arranged table is set up next to a balcony, half obscured by darkened curtains. A great chaise lounge is clearly meant for your majesty, the other smaller two are meant for guests obviously.

The two of you stand politely at the entrance, waiting for acknowledgment, and the odor permeating this room is so intensely thick it feels like it's dripping into your skull, caressing every inch of you.

Alarmingly, your skin becomes feverish and you gasp for much needed air, feeling the peaks of your tits perk immediately, a rush of blood flying to your nethers. You feel the overwhelming urge to drop your already light clothes and throw yourself into one of the many soft cloths offered.

Santi too sniffs and rumbles at the atmosphere, no doubt incensed by the scent of what might have transpired only moments earlier. Although he's much more in control of himself than you, a gentle touch guiding you back into focusing on the present. You thumb at the bracelet he gave you, the one that presses into the inside of your wrist, dispensing a countering substance into the thin sheet of skin there.

Said substance is the only thing that's keeping you from crawling on the floor like a dog in heat.

A large, flowing tail swishes, and the two of you finally have the composure to glance right, met with the visage of King Vesper, naked as the day he was spat onto Hell, grabbing belongings from a fancy cabinet. When he turns around, your breath catches.

It's not entirely news to you. Santi described him to you, and Vesper has got to be the Icon of Hell who most desires to be seen by everyone, so you knew he was pink, voluptuous and fluffy in a few sections.

But seeing him in person is a whole other matter. It doesn't compare to any detailed descriptions.

Only Santi has managed to captivate you more intensely than the demonlord standing before you. It's... Well, if you had to try to put it into words, when you gaze into those big, predatory magenta eyes, it's like the shock of when you first glanced at Santi- But without the warmth in your chest.

No, this here is just warmth in your loins.

No soul in Heaven or Hell is stopping your eyes from dancing all over Vesper's body. From flowing tendrils to piercing pinks, heart-shaped nipples, golden chains, neatly-arranged fluff and thighs for days, a second mouth grinning at the two of you- There's so much to focus on, so much to ogle, that your sight nearly crosses for a moment.

He's a lot.

It's hard to steady your breathing.

Eventually, you notice those purpled claws are holding onto a spiral-shafted bottle and three miss wine glasses. You don't know what's inside the bottle, but it looks like a regular wine.

" Your Majesty- "

" Vesper, Santi. We've been over this. " The Icon frowns.

" Vesper. Long time no see. " Your incubus smiles, a slight wag of the tail behind him.

In contrast, the Icon's entire head tendril curls with happiness. " Oh say less! Much too long! And after this news, I would drag you here myself if you refused my invite. "

Santi nods with an expression that clearly shows he doesn't doubt the King one bit.

Suddenly, the ruler's gaze snaps to you, like a hawk spotting its lunch a mile away. He bends, much too close, invading, before grabbing smoothly onto your left hand. This close, you can smell the lush, almost floral scent coming from what must be that mane around his neck.

" And where have my manners fled- You must be this harlot's one and only match, the human I've so been aching to meet. " A thumb runs across your knuckles.

" Hhh- Hello- It's a pleasure, your majesty. "

Brilliant. Flawless. You definitely didn't choke up like a cat trying to cough up a hairball. Santi chuckles, introducing your name to the monarch, who licks his lips.

" You may recognize me as a King, but just as I said to Santi, tonight you know me not as a ruler, but a friend. A lover, even. " The last part swooned dreamily, planting facetious suggestions.

Then, he does something you should have seen coming. Should have remembered, actually, but even knowing what was about to transpire, no one could blame you for blanking.

Gleefully, the Icon reaches down across his own figure, hands drifting along his front to grope and paw at his fattened slit. It looks good enough to make you want to shove your whole face in there, and frankly that might be the intended effect. In mere practiced seconds, Vesper's cocks proudly slide out.

To say he's hung is an understatement, but he wouldn't be the King of Lust if he didn't sport a trial of willpower between his legs. Two of them, actually. Ringed and slick, with this restless tentacle poking and prodding between them, occasionally latching onto one of those lengths before switching to the other like its indecisive. You can appreciate the pigment of his cocks, which is a weird thing to say but true nonetheless. It makes you wonder how they'd look stained by the wetness of your puffed cunt.

More than gawk, you huff some kind of bewildered animal noise, hues flickering between the Lord's own and Santi's face. When Santi kneels, so do you, blinking as Vesper grows half-hard in a twitch or two.

The lump in your throat won't go down while you observe Santi lean forward and chastely kiss the tip of Vesper's right cock, before swirling his tongue around the head as best as he can and leaning back. He made that look like the most erotic thing you've ever seen, seemingly unbothered by the effect that view had on you when he expectantly beckons you to tend to the spare member.

Nowhere near as charming as a concubus, your small lips tremble when you close your eyes and lean in to imitate the act, cheeks aflame. This will be the first person you've put your lips upon after having started a relationship with Santi. You decide not to think too hard about it. A small peck is planted against Vesper's length, and the shudder that rocks your body afterwards has you exhaling hard through your nose. Although you glance at Santi for approval, he smiles and arches a brow as if to tell you that you're not quite done yet. The cock hovering in front of you flexes and you understand you're going to have to put some heart into it.

By the time you decide to try and swirl your small tongue around the King's tip, he's already beading in excitement, the view of a still somewhat timid human trying to appease him probably doing something for the demonlord.

It's messy. You have to turn your head and put more effort into it than Santi, ever practiced, did. Unfortunately, Vesper tastes almost as good as the other incubus next to you, so even if you're struggling, it's hard to let go. You could suck at him all day if it meant keeping that taste on your tongue.

Eventually, when you do pull away, a string of precum follows, snapping onto your chin and making you try to clean it away with your fingers. A bad idea, they're sticky now. Thankfully, Santi is there to lick them clean for you, winking to let you know you did a good job.

" I do so love making new acquaintances. " Vesper seems to ebb satisfaction. He doesn't bother with his exposed malehood and motions over to the chaise lounge area. " Please, both of you, sit. Talk with me. "

And you do. Of course you do. Your legs might eventually give out if you don't.

The King gracefully splays himself on his seat, uncorking the bottle with his index claw and placing the three differently sized glasses onto the table. You and Santi sit closely on one of the opposite chaises lounges.

" Can I get you lovebirds some temptation rouge? " He purrs, beginning to pour the drinks anyway.

Santi nods. " I'll have some. None for the lady, please. "

Vesper pauses his pouring, the alluring stream of purplish delight fading enough to allow you to focus.

He frowns. " Oh come now. "

The high-ranker doesn't budge. " Vesper, this isn't something humans should- "

" Mmm really? I recall you offering it quite generously. " The King taps idly at the shaft of the bottle, his tone petty.

The black-horned demon offers a look that begs Vesper not to push on the matter, which is apparently met with mercy.

" But I understand, you're in love, the world has a different hue. "

" Yes... You couldn't guess how distinct. "

Not quite deciphering the exchange the two fiends had, you choose to speak up when Vesper inches Santi's drink his way.

" I can have some. "

Santi shoots you a look. " No. No, that's silly- "

Santi's tense, sighing.

But a large paw has already been raised. " Hush! The lady has spoken, and who are we to deny her? "

" Surely, just one sip is alright. Besides, she's a virgin of Lust, let her enjoy some of my land's exquisite offerings. "

You watch the King pour half a glass for you. You're no virgin, how could you be with Santi by your side? Though saying that someone is a virgin in Lust generally means that it's their first time visiting the Ring.

You spot a muscle on Santi's arm twitch when you cautiously grab the miss wine cup. You know the contents within are likely a very potent aphrodisiac, perhaps a psychostimulant, something that'll make you trip balls essentially. After all, concubi don't drink or eat out of necessity, so this clearly has a use.

" Thank you. " Santi responds, a bit flatter.

Reclining on the seat, the Icon sips out of his glass, the mouth on his stomach licking its chops at the shared taste. A tail flicks, you note that he's been idly stimulated this entire time by the tendrils still squirming between his two dicks.

" So, tell me sweetheart, what do you think of my Ring so far? "

You hope he didn't catch you staring, but that face says it all.

" It's... " You have to think for a second, finding it difficult to articulate a plethora of mixed feelings.

" Freeing, in a strange kind of way. " You trace the rim of the glass. " It's still Hell, still scary, and I don't understand much of what I see out there... But I wish- " Your cheeks grow warmer. " I wish sometimes... That I could join. "

When you look back up, Vesper is grinning, this very amused glint in those magenta pools. " Mhmm, an honest response. I appreciate it. "

You smile politely in return.

Conversation unfurls easily afterwards as both demons partake of the rouge, their faces darken with time and they seem to sway the slightest amount, bodies restless. When you take your first sample of wine, the room is already thick with a scent you've grown to understand means hungry concubi are looming around.

Pungent. Thin but so sweet that it seeps into every pore in a wave of fruity warmth beckoning more and more of its sampler's attention. You'd have this for breakfast, for lunch and for dinner, quickly turning into some shameless alcoholic. It's of little surprise that all of Hell's confectionary is as addictive as it is to humans, that's how fiendkind tends to assert their power over other species. You suppose Lust, as the Ring of desire, has a particular ease creating concoctions of great addictive power.

Your idle reckoning is entirely derailed by the jolt of wetness from your loins, something you expected but couldn't calculate the intensity of, throat burning as you clumsily choke down the whore noise that wanted to flow forth. Maybe you drank too much at a time? How can those two have several glasses of this and look only mildly buzzed?!

Right on cue, Santi reaches to pluck the glass out of your hands. " Aaand that's enough for you. "

" Hah, oh the poor thing! You know that's properly aged, honey, try not to waste it. "

An embarrassing amount of time clearing your throat later, the King pipes up again.

" Ah, I've been meaning to ask, what is it like? " He waves a hand, his head tendril wraps around it fluidly, allowing the demonlord to toy with it.

" The sex? " Santi prods.

" No, the fighting- Of course I'm talking about the sex, you bumbling slut! "

The incubus straightens, eager to talk. " Oh, well- "

" Nuh-uh, quiet. " Vesper's tail nudges Santi into silence. " I know that part. Oh, sex with a perfect match is like pure ambrosia, it's the richest source of energy, a taste so delectable it fries you harder than the cocktail of an orgy of kissless virgins! You can never go back and you'll never have an experience half as pleasurable, it's the greatest gift a concubus can have but also the bane of their search for newer sensuous experiences because it causes obsessive infatuation- Etcetera etcetera... "

The Icon rises much faster than you'd guess his mass could ever allow him to, only to drop to a crawl, gaze piercing into you with an almost violating intensity. " No... " He murmurs sweetly, stopping to squat mere inches from your already overheated body, the chain anchored by his tits swaying hypnotically in front of you. " I want to hear it from you, darling. Regale me! "

Put on the spot like this, you don't actually know what about your perspective can be so appealing to the King, but his tone is authoritative, demanding. You must give an answer.

And so, you allow the hellish alcohol to speak for you, memory drawing upon the moments of your most intimate moments with Santi. The definition of his body, the noises he makes as he partakes of your form, the form you never gave much thought to yet the same one he reveres and coats in his drool. The whispers against your skin that you can never quite make out and the dance of claws on sensitive areas bordering between the sweetest caress and the plunge of a jealous lover.

" I- " You laugh breathlessly. " Well, I didn't know what sex was before I met Santi, real sex, real desire. There isn't a thing he does that I dislike, every time I lay with him, I only wish that it never ended, and I'm thankful he knows when to stop, because I might just tell him to keep going until I draw my last breath. "

You don't know where all of that came from.

The King's wolfish grin now turns shark-like, and he nods ever so fervently, egging you on. Santi has set his own glass down, blinking in bewilderment at your words, until a rumble bursts from his chest, and he seeks to hug you closer to himself.

" I know it sounds cheesy a- and dumb but I always want to try new things in bed with him because I've always felt so appreciated and- Santi makes me feel like I'll always look gorgeous no matter what I have on or what little accidents we have. I never knew sex could be so fun and feel so good... And I guess I only have him to thank for it. "

Santi doesn't say anything, just pulls you into a searing kiss full of tongue and approval. One you get lost in far too quickly, uncaring of your surroundings, or the demonlord ogling the two of you like steaks on a platter.

Maybe the King was looking for something a little more lewd and descriptive, but it seems the drink took you to a more emotional lane. Either way, what you said apparently resonates with the incubus in question, because he beams like a spotlight, eyes bright and smile so full of heated love it might just melt you.

It wasn't always like this. You remember the rocky start of this relationship. It could have turned into something ugly. It could have hurt you badly. Don't think about it.

" Oh- Oh, love does win! " Vesper dramatically rises, pretending to wipe a tear that isn't there. " So romantic, so heartfelt, I could just about write a whole drama from this alone. "

Eyes closed, getting a tongueful from your now overly-excited lover, you feel hands pawing at your body. His, you initially think, squirming playfully as they nudge your barely concealed breasts and squeeze at your tummy, palming at the swell of your ass possessively. Then, what you thought to be two hands become three, become different. It takes you a second of sloppily making out to finally open your eyes and check.

The Icon is now looming above you both, all glowing eyes and slobbering chops, cocks twitching for attention while he hastily reaches to place both hands on each of you. You're barely able to complain before your shorts are pushed aside with your thong and a large hand is palming at you insistently, met with the rush of wetness Santi's saliva has helped create. Speaking of, the high-ranker himself has already parted his legs to allow the King to tease his girth out of his slit, getting leisurely pumped. You watch each other get fondled for a moment, the shock fading into shameless acceptance and a burning need for more. Your cunt clenches around nothing.

" Mm, why'd you stop? Enjoy yourselves. "

The other grins, placing a finger under your chin and guiding you into another embrace. This one is slower, more measured, not just to savor the moment but to make a proper show for the sovereign of carnality. Santi works just well enough in tandem with the King's hand to draw out a wanton moan from you, eating it up with his own. Vesper apparently finds this very appealing, sighing his appreciation and rewarding the two of you with more attentive touches.

Your clit is flicked a certain way that forces your legs to jerk, and the situation is fixed when Santi readjusts to hold your leg slightly upwards, encouraging you to slide down a little. Just so, just so... Until Vesper has a finger in you, his index. Then two- His hands are large, larger than the average demon's, this is a stuffing on its own.

Whatever shred of composure you had left is gone, starting to keen and whimper as the demonlord immediately hammers onto the spot that usually has tears welling in your eyes. You don't know what kind of faces you're making, but they're probably not pretty in the wake of such intense stimulus. It feels as if your entire body is throbbing with sensation, the peak of it making your nethers pulse like an epicenter of delight.

Vaguely, you feel someone tug your top down so your tits can bounce free with every thrust upwards, turning to spot Santi rocking into the fist offered to him while he bites his lip to the debauched sight you make. You didn't think you'd be getting off to something like this, but seeing the desperation to use you in his eyes has you fuming in arousal, and likewise, he's loving your helplessly wanton exhibitionism.

" Ahh, she likes that. " The demonlord keenly observes. " Don't you, princess? Like the sight of your pretty incubus fucking my hand like a needy animal because he can't have you yet? Does it turn you on how lost he is in you? Do you think I should make him cum like this? You're both adorable, I'm loving this so much already! "

His depraved purring is the straw that breaks the camel's back, you can only roll your eyes and choke out some kind of plea for mercy before squeezing like a vise around Vesper's fingers and soaking him for all you've got, barely able to breathe in-between the thunderous pulsing of your orgasm. He rides you through it, nice and hard and milking the entirety of it for his own selfish gain, until you're spasming and gasping erratically.

Unfortunately, you missed Santi's own climax, finding him sagging against the seat in a state similar to yours, while the King whorishly sates himself with the mix of your released fluids, sucking and lapping at his hands for every hint of slick and humming pleasantly at the flavor you make together.

" Not bad... Not bad at all. Again, now, I can't wait to see your bond up close! "

You're a little bit confused when he plops himself back down on his massive lounge chair, then taps his thighs invitingly. Santi gets the idea however, tickling and nudging your clothes off you before settling on the monarch's lap.

Vesper hums, rearranging him so Santi's back is to his front, and then you are invited on. The resulting position has Vesper serving as a kind of living support with you seated atop Santi, giving the King a perfect view. Casually rumbling his glee, the King takes hold of your hips and steals any kind of autonomy from you by leading the pace, grinding you against the delectable ridges of Santi's hardness.

Laps are delivered to the side of Santi's face, and you know the mouth on the demonlord's stomach is also sampling around, tendrils closing in to shift between stimulating him and coiling luridly around your bodies like he just can't get enough.

One moment the two of you are locked in an desperate rut against the slow pace of regal hands, the next, you feel the sting of the demon's exquisite girth as you're swiftly impaled, the pain much too quickly blossoming into momentous relief.

It's a frenzy of movement you can hardly process. Maybe it's the effects of that drink, maybe it's just the cacophony of pheromones that being glued to a high-ranker and an Icon produces -You hardly doubt that bracelet is doing anything to protect your poor mind at this point- But you get well and truly lost in it. The world spins, only flashes of the experience register in your muddled brain, goosebumps, a swaying vision, waves of pleasure heightened to such a degree that you cease hearing anything but the muffled echoes of your lover's moans.

In that moment, there's nothing more to reality than the monster in front of you, looking as depraved as you, and leaning into it. Santi drools onto his own chest openly, pupils dilated, eyes relentlessly hypnotic as he swallows every twitch of your tormented form's muscles. No hint of higher thought lies in those acidic green hues, only the beastly impulse to have you, to reduce you to a spasming mess, to make you lose your mind and grow addicted to him.

Faintly, you can hear low whispers in a foreign, harsh tongue, and it never occurs to you that might be the source of your current trance. You don't know what it's doing to you or Santi, and you don't care.

You don't care about anything expect the constant pistoning driving you to a filthy paradise. If the Icon wasn't the one moving your legs, you'd be mush by now, point proven further when your top half simply flops onto the incubus' body, useless.

It must have been about an hour or more when the two of you are stopped, and no matter how gentle the winding down was, you still grunt and whine wordlessly in frustration, met with laughter from the two of them. Santi recovered faster, because of course he did. Looking down to where your bodies meet, you're disgraced with the sight of a sticky mess coating not just your mons and thighs, but plenty of Santi's lower half. It doesn't even reek of sex, you've gone nose blind at this point. It's almost terrifying, you have no idea how many times you orgasmed, or how many times he did for that matter, but the overwhelming evidence is clearly there, and your throat is quite sore. Whether from gasping, screaming or simply breathing through it, you don't know anymore.

Vesper says something to your partner in clear infernal, met with a reply you cannot hope to interpret either, and you're pulled forward to kiss the King, the three of you exchanging lips in a disheveled mess.

By the time you start giggling and breathing hard, Santi sighs.

" We... We should stop for now, no? " There's a mildly guilty look on his handsome features. Probably because you're going to be feeling this for a week.

The demonlord huffs. " Ugh- Fine fine, but only because you two were such a show, the imps flocked to the doors you know? I can feel them peeping. "

The darker demonoid snickers in amusement, reaching out to pet your face and try to ground you in reality, to no avail. You're eventually lifted to a stand, latching onto his arm for support and starting to somewhat ferally bite him in adoration.

Vesper follows suit, look too predatory to mean anything good, and both hands coiled around vastly neglected lengths. Making quick work of himself to the filthy view you and Santi make. He's the one who gulps now.

" I have been very patient however, the least my adorable guests could do is give me a lasting farewell. "

Santi looks like he's about to try to politely renegotiate.

" Pretty please? "

You clap and cackle in enthusiasm, entirely out of your gourd. More, more!

The incubus watches you jump in place, then turns to his old friend. " You have spare regeneration ointments, don't you? "

[bippiti]

505 cl16

where you reminisce on your first love

wc 3k

an done for my 1.2k event! first fic in the series, lmk if you wanna be tagged and as always pls like + rb<3

(starts in 2014, ends in 2024ish)

i'm going back to 505

you rushed down the road, feet peddling as hard as they could as you biked down the street. your eyes glanced down to your watch, squinting before you read the time. great. you were going to be late.

you thought that was you’re biggest problem, and then a new one came crashing onto you, literally.

while you were busy checking the time, you failed too notice someone else running in your direction. you don't know what had them too preoccupied to notice you- but you could technically say the same thing about yourself so-

you were bought back to the moment by the stinging you started to feel on your knees, you hissed looking down and seeing red. ugh

you began to apologize, looking up and stopping mid sentence.

wow. he was pretty. really pretty

you slapped yourself mentally, wincing while standing up. it was definitely going to scar. you reached your hand down to help the mysterious boy up, who sharply inhaled when your hands met. he had scraped his hands up pretty bad when you guys collided.

"i'm so sorry again"

"you're completely fine, i should've been paying more attention" he said while laughing

he has nice laugh

"anyway, i think i should properly introduce myself, i'm charles le clerc" this time he was the one to extend his hand out

"y/n l/n, nice to meet you" you smiled as you shook hands

then you remembered what had gotten you into this mess. you checked your watch again. you were definitely late now.

"i'm so sorry charles but im running late to a painting class, i really need to go" you picked up your bike, kicking the dust off of it.

"wait i am too, are you going to mme. callarios?"

you looked back at him in shock. "how did you know"

he shook his head, "you're going in the wrong direction, since we're heading the same way mind if i show you?"

you didn't see why not, so he climbed in front of you and began to head towards your class

-

if it's a seven hour flight or a forty-five minute drive

the bike halted as you reached your destination. building 505. you stared at each other nervously before walking in. the class had started at 1pm, and it was nearing 2 when you arrived. granted, it was a 4 hour class but still.

you cringed internally as you felt all eyes on you when you opened the doors to the class.

"y/n, charles! great to see you. we've split up into partners, so you both will have to work together. decide who will be the painter and who will be the model for the first piece. switch in an hour and a half!" she explained quickly, ushering you both to the only empty table.

you both sat across from each other, and after a small game of rock paper scissors, you were adjusting in your seat getting ready to pose for the next 90 minutes.

-

when you look at me like that, my darlin', what did you expect?

you didn't know how you managed to keep a straight face, his stares were piercing into what felt like your soul. you knew that he had to be like this, he was painting you after all. but knowing that didn't help. after silently uttering some words of encouragement to yourself, you maintained a straight face.

after what felt like forever, you heard the timer go off, and with one last stroke of the brush charles was up and you were swapping places. you cracked your knuckles before sitting on the stool. this was gonna have to be the best painting you've ever done.

before you knew it you were hearing to now familiar ring as you finished off the details of his eyes. you stood up, backing away from the piece. not too bad you thought.

after everyone had finished, you went to the room across as they all dried. it was acrylic, so it wouldn't take too long. there were snacks and refreshments scattered throughout the space. grabbing a drink and seat, you started to learn more about charles. he had two brothers, one older and younger. his mom still cut his hair, you thought he might be embarrased but he showed it off proudly.

“all these years and she still hasn't given me a bad haircut”

“if my mom could cut hair like yours, i'd be getting it done by her too”

“you should come by her salon sometime, i think she'd like you”

“really?”

“yeah, she's out of town so next month when she's back”

with those plans made, you collectively went back into the painting room. you both swapped paintings and looked at them for a while.

you gauged his reaction, at first his face was blank and you were scared that you had made him look like a troll or something, but slowly a smile creeped up onto his face, he looked up to you.

“it's really good”

you smiled and looked down to yours, he had gotten your likeliness down to a t. he left clear marks and left the strokes visible.

looking up you saw him searching your eyes for a reaction, just like you had.

“you did so good, i love your painting style”

he seemed relieved when you said that, smiling. as everyone around you began to pack up and leave, you both exchanged numbers before grabbing your paintings and going your separate ways.

-

not shy of a spark

you had texted back and forth a lot since then, and soon enough you found yourself at the doorstep of his moms salon. after being welcomed in you sat down and showed her photos of the haircut you wanted. she nodded, and began to wet your hair

“charles talks about you a lot, you know”

“does he really” you said with a laugh

“he does, i think he likes you dear”

that shut you up, she smiled warmly

“at this age, love is everywhere, make sure you grab it while you can”

you left the appointment with amazing hair and a lot of questions, you didn't think he could possibly like you back. but now, who knows

the knife twists at the thought that I should fall short of the mark

-

I'm going back to 505

you walk into the painting studio, excited with the a dragonfruit in your hand. today was still life day, normally you found it boring but mme. callarios had let everyone bring their own fruit.

you spotted charles when you got in, and lifted your dragonfruit for him to see. he put his hand up, showing off the orange he had started to peel. he tore off a piece for you, and offered it once you got closer.

your hand was cramping as your eyes continued to squint at the pink fruit in front of you. you regretted picking dragon fruit barely half an hour in, the seeds and the outer skin were proving difficult to paint accurately, you glanced over to charles, his was coming along nicely. you ended up pushing through the ugly phase and were somewhat proud of the piece. it had definitely been your most challenging one so far

-

If it's a seven hour flight or a forty-five minute drive

you were biking to charles' place, over the weeks you had both become closer, and he wanted to cook for you. you were somewhat scared, charles didn't seem like michelin star material, but maybe he'd surprise you.

he did end up surprising you, but not in the way that you thought.

pasta was on the menu for the afternoon, and you sat on the counter as he went around getting all the ingredients ready. basil, pine nuts, garlic, and olive oil were all pushed onto an island before he began on the pasta. getting out the flour and egg, he began to knead the dough together.

he looked nice in moments like this, comfortable. you liked to think that maybe you could see more of him like this, when he's quiet and the silence isn't awkward. existing together in his apartment kitchen. once he was done cutting the dough into pieces, he salted the water and dropped the pasta in. he came over to you and you both began talking.

you ended up getting so immersed in the conversation that the pasta was forgotten- at least until it was too late. you glanced over to the stove, eyes widening as you saw smoke rising from the pan. you both jumped up and yanked it off the gas, bringing it to the sink. what was going to be amazing pasta was now a charred rock. you couldn't help but laugh before getting side eyed by charles.

"i guess we're going to have to order pizza instead"

you ended up binging some random show you found on netflix, and as a souvenir took home the rock of burnt pasta, you named it char, short for charles charcoal

-

In my imagination, you're waitin' lyin' on your side

charles had become a f3 driver now, and hadn't been in monaco for a bit. you watched all his races, and you were the first person he called after his first win in pau-ville. he was excited, and so were you.

you're feelings for him had kept growing, and you couldn't help it, no matter how much you tried. you loved everything about him, his eyes, and how they'd light up when he saw you, his smile, and the dimples that formed when he did. his hair, his voice, just him.

soon enough he was back in monaco and you were excited to see him.

you grabbed coffee and began walking around the streets, stopping at building 505, walking into the currently empty studio. you looked around some of the paintings before sitting on some stools.

you knew him too well now, 3 years of friendship will do that. he was nervous, when he bought his hand up to his face you had saw he had bitten his nails. you didn't bring it up, but before you could say anything he started to speak

"i've been trying to figure out how i should say this for the longest time. i've known for a while now, but it really hit me in pau. i couldn't have don't any of this without you, i don't even think i'd be who i am without you y/n. and now that i'm back i can' t handle not telling you. i like you, i really like you"

you were stunned for a minute, before you kicked back the stool you were sitting in and kissed him. the puzzles had fallen into place, you couldn't believe it.

he deepened the kiss, bringing his hand to your waist as you sat in his lap. your fingers ran through his hair, tugging as you began to roll your hips against his.

you pulled away, panting. smiling at him before you began to kiss him again, his hands roamed down to your shirt, tugging it up as he separated from you again. you raised your arms, and took his off as well. a silent beat skipped between you both and you laughed

"are we really about to do this right now"

"yeah, i think we are"

you pulled him closer to you once again, his tongue slipped int your mouth effortlessly and you almost moaned, god he knew how to make you melt.

soon enough, the rest of your clothes followed suit and you were on the cool tile floor. as his hand started to trace your inner thigh you grabbed his hand. he looked up, somewhat confused but before he could say anything you spoke,

'i've never done this before"

he relaxes almost immediately, and smiles down at you

"neither have i"

you weren't ashamed to admit you were shocked, sopmeone like him.. never? not once?

he could see the gears turning in his head and he spoke up

"there were girls now and then sure, but i always wanted it to be you, it's always been you honestly"

you couldn't see yourself rn, but you were sure you were giving im heart eyes by now.

"it was the same for me too actually" you said sheepishly

"was it really?

"yeah, it was" and with that you bought your hands up to his shoulder, flipping him onto the floor. you kissed him softly, turning his face to kiss along his jaw, his neck, going further down to his chest, then stomach. pausing for permission, after seeing his nod you pulled down, eyes widening as you saw it. well this was gonna be interesting

you left kisses on his tip, working your way down before you took him all in your mouth. he hit the back of your throat and you almost choked, but hearing the moans coming out of his mouth kept you going. you could feel him start to pulse, and before you could do anything else he was bringing you off of him, kissing your lips as he turned you around.

“can’t have you doing all the work can i cher?” he said as he pulled your underwear down, almost moaning when he looked down at you, all of you.

he traced his hands down your sternum, down to your waist and legs. spreading you open he dipped his face down.

you could feel his tongue inside you, pulsing before he started scissoring you open. he was good- too good at this. you don’t know if you could handle it. soon enough, he was back on top of you, kissing you gently as he lined himself up with your entrance.

he cleaned you up afterwards, he was quiet, soft. you could get used to this

-

but I crumble completely when you cry

it had been months since that night, you and charles had been going strong, but after he joined f2, something changed. his eyes no longer lit up when he saw you, he started buying things for you instead of making them. you’d wake up to your phone being full of messages, but none of them from him.

it hurt. he hurt.

it shouldn’t have come as a surprise when he called you, asking where you were.

you answered, mme. callarios’ place. he said he was going to be there soon.

you felt your heart drop, wether it was excitement or fear, you couldn’t tell.

you knew the minute he stepped through the door it was going to be bad. you could read him like a book. you composed yourself as he came closer, pressing quick kisses to the others cheeks, you painted a smile on your face and smiled at him.

his eyes were full of emotion, for the first time in months. it’s almost funny, you knew it was coming but the moment the words left his mouth you broke down

“i’ve been seeing someone else”

“i see”

at first it didn’t register, not really. a heartbeat later you felt the tears pricking at your eyes. you turned around trying to excuse yourself, but before you could take another step a sob escaped your lips. you started to cry. you couldn’t shut up, why couldn’t you just shut up? you could feel yourself gasping for breath, all the air in the world wasn’t enough for your lungs right now. you were getting lightheaded, knees turning shaky before ultimately giving up on you. the impact resonated around the empty room.

he stepped forward, kneeling down. his stupid, warm hands brushed up against your face, trying to wipe away your tears.

you couldn’t even push him off of you. you really were pathetic.

you managed to fight your way up, shaking and all but running out the door.

never again, you were never going to love anyone like that again

-

i’m going back to 505

you walked into a crowded room. your latest collection had been getting a lot of coverage in the media, and it was the last day it was up for the public. the pieces would be going to the individual buyers first thing tomorrow.

building 505. it no longer made a bitter taste seep into your mouth. it’s crazy to think a decade ago you were standing here painting him, how time flies.

the first few months were the worst. he was the only thing you could think of, you were a broken record. so naturally, you did the one thing that made you feel close to him again, painting. and it saved you

you could get out every thought you were too afraid to say out loud, every emotion you didn’t want to feel with simple strokes on canvas

you didn’t think anything would come of it, honestly. you were meant to go into investment banking, like your parents. the universe had other plans though

one of mme. callarios’ friends was a museum director, and took a liking to your pieces. he asked you to do some works on commission. word got around fast, and now you’ve made a name for yourself as an artist, in some ways all thanks to charles

charles. now he had his dream job, f1. working with the team he used to tell you about, the team he worshipped.

you were happy for him, sometimes you wonder if he was happy for you. you still think of him when you eat pesto, you still keep char in a jar under your bed, you have all of the paintings you made that summer in a closet collecting dust. there were pieces of yourself that you gave to him that will stay his even though you’re done.

none of that matters now though, you turn to someone who’s called your name and start explaining the piece they’ve asked about

[michelle-is-writing]

Clothes Shopping, Spencer Reid

Word count: 1.6k~

I have never felt more award in a store. Looking around me, I find myself a bit weirded out by the store I'm currently in while waiting for Spencer. Mannequins dressed in fancy suits litter the male clothing store while shelves hold the same pairs of oxfords, each pair barely changing with the shades of black and brown they possess. The men at the front registers wear what the store advertises, and their posture is so straight and unchanging that they could be mannequins as well. When Spencer said he needed to shop for some new work clothes, this place wasn't exactly what came to mind.

"Spence, you almost finished?" I ask from behind the blue curtain of the changing stall. The clanking of a belt against the floor sounds through the dressing rooms before the constant thump of Spencer's jumping feet follows it. "Need any help?" I ask him with a smirk, gaining an odd and almost annoyed look from the worker at the changing room desk. These people are really stuck-up.

"I'm almost done, (Y/n)," I hear him say, his voice showing mild frustration. A little concerned, I pull back the curtain to see my husband having trouble getting his pants on, my eyes quickly catching the error in his ways.

"Spencer, honey," I state, walking into the small room with him and placing my hand on his shoulder. Spencer doesn't stop in his movements, however.

"It's okay, I got it," He assures me, making me smile and shake my head. I probably shouldn't be so amused at Spencer being so uncoordinated, but who wouldn't at least be a little tickled by their husband putting on his pants backward?

"Spencer, you really don't," I tell him, sliding my hands over his. He stops in his actions before looking up at me with pleading eyes. No matter what, he will never audibly ask for help, but the pitiful puppy eyes I get from him sells him out every time without fail.

"You kind of..." I begin, only to cover my mouth with a hand as I try to conceal my oncoming laughter. "You have them on backward," I quickly explain to him in a whisper, his eyes immediately shooting wide open before he turns in the mirror to see himself.

"Oh my God," He mutters, finally smiling in amusement. Turning back toward me, he sighs before looking down at the front of his pants that are technically the back. "That explains why this," He gestures to the middle seam line fighting for its life. "Felt weird."

Laughing again, I shake my head before handing him his original ones. "I think this is a sign," I note, gaining a quizzical look from Spencer as he begins to take off the pants.

"Why do you say that?" He asks, sliding the ugly pants off before putting on his original pair, meeting my eyes once he's pulling his zipper back up.

"Because these clothes," I start, gesturing to the area around me. "Are not you," I point out, earning a slight nod from Spencer. "You are sweater vests and black converse, not... tight-ass jackets with leather shoes that need more care than a small child."

He smiles at me before nodding in agreeance. "Rossi recommended the place," He explains, "I didn't say anything when we came in, but..." He leans in closer, beginning to whisper. "I hate everything I picked out."

Shaking my head, I stifle a laugh before gathering the unbought clothes together over my arm and hanging them up on the rack by the dressing room doorway. With Spencer back in his original clothes, we head out of the store, but not before gaining a few pointed glares from the mannequins at the front desk, of course. Hand in hand, we head across the mall to another clothing shop, one that I think will be better for us.

Last time I came here to the mall, I noticed the mannequins in the windows were wearing outfits that Spencer would wear - you know, clothes for a mid-century banker. Without hesitation, I went into the store and found a few things for him, to which I purchased and brought home. When I gave the sweaters to him, I didn't know if he liked them or not, but whenever I noticed he started to only wear the three jumpers I got him without switching back to the other ones he already owned, I knew he liked them.

"Go crazy," I tell him, gesturing to the men's clothes section. Watching as Spencer's eyes scan over the many shelves and racks of his type of clothing, I smile. "I'll be looking at the dresses," I inform him, pecking his cheek before heading over to the women's section.

A few minutes pass, leaving me to myself while Spencer fills his arms up with clothes he likes. I'm glad he's finding a lot of things he deems wearable and his style. He hasn't gone clothes shopping since he first joined the BAU, and even then, I was the one to find everything for him since most of it was from magazine catalogs sent through the mail. Now those clothes are so old and worn out that everything either has holes in them or the color has faded a few shades.

Only finding one dress and a pair of heels, I head back to the dressing rooms where Spencer's trying on his clothes. I knock on the wall beside his stall before pulling back the curtain and walking in. Spencer stands in the mirror, smiling proudly at himself and his new clothes. A dark brown wool coat sits on his shoulders while a black, soft-looking button-up lies beneath it followed by a matching pair of dark brown pants.

Turning toward me, he smiles with a light laugh that shows his happiness. His innocent smile is like that of a child's smile on Christmas. I guess finding clothes that he genuinely likes feels like a blessing to him, and for me, it truly is a blessing.

"Do you like it?" Spencer asks, making my smile turn into a grin. Walking forward, I adjust a few things before smoothing down the fabric of the blazer.

"I do," I tell him. "It looks very nice on you; it's sharp," Turning my eyes up to his, I furrow my eyebrows together. "This isn't all you found, right?" I ask him.

Turning toward to the chair beside the mirror, he points at the gigantic stack of clothes. "No, this just happens to be my favorite," He sheepishly admits, making me laugh. Kissing the handsome man, I rest my hand on his chest before looking back at the mirror.

"It looks nice on you," I repeat myself from earlier. "I hope you're getting it," I tell Spencer, his eyes going down to the dress over my arm as he nods.

"What did you find?" He asks. Smiling, I pull the dress from my arm and hold it up for him to see. "I like that," He notes. "You should try it on."

Agreeing with him, I begin to pull my shirt off as Spencer moves his news clothes onto his lap while sitting down in the armchair. Moving onto my pants, I unbutton my jeans and slide them down, giving Spencer a small show at the same time. Peering back at him, I see his eyes watching me intently while resting his chin on his hand.

"Enjoying the view?" I ask him with a smirk, his smile reappearing above his perched arm.

"I'll never stop loving my wife's amazing body," He answers proudly, making me blush. Four years of marriage, and he still manages to make me feel the same way I did when we were dating.

Pulling the dress over my head, I push it down the rest of my body and watch as it nicely conforms to my legs and waist. Grazing my hands over my clothed curves, I smile at my reflection in the mirror just as Spencer had done with his. The dress is long-sleeved and made of a black, silky material that clings and spans down to the space above my knee. The neckline is a little low too, showing the tops of my shoulders which makes it appear seductive, yet sweet. Sliding on the silver pumps only add to the seduction of the look, making me smile. It's not a bad look for me.

Turning my eyes to the new reflection behind me, I feel Spencer slide his arm around my waist before tugging me close to him. "You look..." He begins, his eyes lingering on his grasp on my hips in the mirror. "Absolutely gorgeous... and sexy."

Smiling even more now, I turn toward him fully and wrap my arms around his neck as he wraps his other arm around my waist to match the other. Looking back at the mirror with me, Spencer smiles. "We look like we're ready to jump back in time," he points out, making me giggle.

He's not too far off, we do look as if we're trying to recreate a picture of Marilyn Monroe and Marlon Brando, and I love it. What I don't love is the sweater that my eyes catch peeking out of Spencer's stack of clothes.

"Spence, honey, why'd you pick out a sweater with armadillos all over it?"

[sublimecatgalaxy]

heyy didnt know if you were down for requests but i js though elliot or dom teaching you how to play the guitar would be rlly cute and shit 😭

(also i love ur fics sm like pls marry me)

Okay well this is literally the cutest request ever!

Also you're the cutest, I accept your proposal! Thank you so much for the love and support, I adore you- reach out any time bestie <3

"You should take a break from school, ya know, give your boyfriend some attention while he's here in your vicinity." Elliot whines from the bed, sprawling out across the comforter as he groans, rubbing his tired eyes as I look over at the clock, not expecting it to be well after midnight. Guilt suddenly swarms around me, realizing he's been sitting here for hours, waiting for me to give him attention while I completely and utterly focus on school.

"Finals are coming up soon and I am completely and utterly unprepared." I trail off, the pit in my stomach only growing as I think of my upcoming tests in three different classes, knowing that I'm totally unprepared for all of them combined.

It's been a rough year, don't judge me.

"Well who's fault is that, you decided to wait until the last minute to even start-"

"Don't finish that sentence." I point a finger at him and he laughs, his bright smile making me feel a little bit better as I swing around in my chair, looking back and forth between him and the flashcards in front of me.

"Well, if you wanna take a break and come over here, I promise to help you with your flashcards." I ponder his offer for a minute, not expecting him to offer his help, especially when he hates everything that has to do with school, especially all the science classes that I'm in.

"Really?" I bite at my lip and give him a look, a look that he can tell that I feel bad that he would have to help me but I could never decline the help, especially given how desperate I am.

"Really." He nods firmly and I pause, smiling softly at him as I pull my hair down from it's bun, itching at my scalp with a groan.

"Okay." I launch myself out of my chair, flopping onto the bed beside him as he immediately wraps me in his arms, tightly squeezing me as I let out a brief sigh of relief, not realizing how much I missed his arms around me. It feels like I've been gone a century. "Only like twenty minutes and then I have to get back to studying or else I'm seriously going to fail this exam."

"Sounds good." He sighs, sitting up on the bed as he reaches down beside the bed to grab his guitar, strumming quietly as I settle down beside him, watching him with a fond, loving look.

"How did you learn that?" I ask simply, pulling his gaze away from the instrument but he continues to play, shocking me even more.

"The guitar?" I nod. "It's muscle memory. I can teach you."

"I'll probably be ass at it. I'm not the most musically inclined." I laugh and his eyes widen with a knowing glance and I reach out to smack his arm with a loud, offended laugh.

"Trust me, I know- I hear you singing in the shower." Elliot teases and I gasp, sitting up and giving him the most incredulous look, shocked that he hears me and noting to myself to be quieter with my concerts.

"Rude." I mumble.

"It's a good thing you're cute." He presses his finger to the tip of my nose and it scrunches under his touch, my head tilting playfully at him. "Here, you can strum and I'll show you the fingering of it."

"Fingering." I snort and his jaw drops at my innuendo, pinching my side.

"Shut up." He continues to move his fingers around the strings as I strum softly, my gaze stuck on the way his fingers move without the need for him to even watch what he's doing. "See it's not that bad?"

"Don't your fingers get tired?" I ask, feeling the tips of my fingers burn as if there's carpet burn on the tips of each of them and he gives me a shrug, taking my fingers in his grasp to press a kiss to each individual finger.

"Never, I have fingers of steel."

"Trust me, I know." I mock him and his head tips back in laughter, red dusting his cheeks at my taunting.

"Shut up."

[starlightandfairies]

Beauty and Beast ~Klaus Mikaelson~

Description: Cliches in the relationship that Klaus has with the reader.

Warnings: she/her pronouns, fluff, angst,

Key: Y/N = Your Name, POV = Point of view, F/C = favourite colour

Word Count: 806

Many didn't like my relationship with Niklaus, the circumstances we met under were not the greatest, my family did not like the supernatural world. in fact they were quite against it and resented me for being with the hybrid. I however, as much as I loved my family and missed them, I enjoyed Niklaus more as he always made me feel worth the time, despite how often his family gets caught in chaos and mayhem. 

"Nik, as gorgeous as this dress is, do you not think it's a little much?" I questioned, showing off the F/C dress to Niklaus, he bought it for me and wanted to paint a portrait of me in it. 

"Of course not, love. You look stunning, besides just be thankful that you get to sit comfortably instead of drawing you in a rather uncomfortable position." He smirked, I rolled my eyes, smiling and rested a brief kiss on his lips before heading back to the chaise lounge chair. 

"Just going to leave me hanging?" 

"Continue with your gorgeous artistic style and you'll be rewarded." 

"If only I knew you'd be a tease when I first met you." I smiled, scoffing and shot him a playful glare, I knew that Niklaus head over heels for me, I knew that I had him wrapped around my little finger and he couldn't resist me even if he tried to do so with all his vampiric skills. 

"Yeah, right," I muttered. Smiling softly, getting comfortable, posing for Niklaus as he started his artistic portrait. Elijah stepped in, complimenting his brother's work in process, then complimented me but Niklaus asked me not to speak prior to him walking in as he was working on my facial features. 

"Brother, dear Y/N cannot share her gratitude right now, I'm currently making sure her facial features are just as gorgeous as they are in person." 

"Very well, have fun you two." Elijah nodded to me, leaving the room, leaving myself and Niklaus to be alone with him finishing the painting. Once Niklaus was done, I stumbled, over the ends of the dress, laughing as the hybrid easily caught me and brought me over to look at the painting. 

"It's gorgeous." I gasped, staring at Klaus amazed, I'm always amazed by his talent, Niklaus never failed to impress me. I sat on his lap, focusing on the painting, grinning at him and resting a passionate kiss against his lips. 

"You made me look like a goddess." 

"My love, that is because you are. A true beauty, one of a kind, that my love, is nothing further from the truth." I leaned into his touch, humming as he fiddled with the fabric of her dress. 

"I love these dresses, If I could I would run around the compound in these dresses like the princesses in the novels I read," I commented mindlessly, sighing to myself as Niklaus gave me a questioning look, he clearly looked impressed and intrigued by the remark I made. 

"Well, why don't you? Nothing is stopping you, I would love to see you running around in these dresses and living your life as a princess." 

"Maybe, I'll start now?" I suggested, shrieking as Niklaus ran with me in his arms to the bottom of the stairs. 

"Go on. Have some fun." He urged me to break the walls that kept me trapped in my self-doubt and began running up the stairs, briefly living that darling princess life I fantasised about having from time to time. I smiled seeing Niklaus waiting at the top, his arms snaked around my waist and together we watched the open area in the centre of the compound. 

"Live your life the way you want my dear, if you want to run around in princess dresses then do so. I know that my past mistakes like to come back and wreak havoc, however, please do let yourself have some fun. That is the only thing I ask of you." 

"Very well, I will have more fun if you have more fun as well." 

"That's not how that works." 

"It is now." I added, shooting him a pointed look, resting my hands on his shoulders, humming mindlessly and began running in another direction, knowing that he'd easily caught me but maybe he'd play along with my little game once in a while. As expected, Niklaus caught me, resting me on the nearby sofa and crouched down. 

"Why won't you turn me?" 

"Because, my love, you are protected here. The compound is in your name and even with you out and about my sister has you heavily protected with spell that wouldn't be effective on vampires." 

"I hope eventually you'll turn me please." 

"As you wish."