#every night i sit down with my sketchbook

[ricoka]

I have got I can't draw to save my life anymore disease and it's incurable apparently

[agi-ppangx]

a face to remember (hwang hyunjin x gn!reader)

no warnings tbh, just fluff; 0.5k works, not proofread

author's note: um, hi ?? do you guys remember me ??🥸 this is the first thing ive written in the past few weeks so pls be nice, i know its not the best, but writer's block sucks so when i finally managed to put words into sentences im gonna post it and you cant stop me🙂‍↕️

“we finally got to talk to that old lady i told you about yesterday,” you said, pouring yourself some tea into the mug. you peeked at the screen and hyunjin smiled faintly at you, encouraging you to continue.

he was sitting at his desk, his phone leaning against the stack of books he kept there so that you could see him well. dim light in his room made him look so cosy, almost domestic, and it made your heart swell with love. “turns out she used to be a history teacher, so she told us about all of those cool stuff, like this one time-” you glanced at your phone screen again and noticed that hyunjin wasn’t looking at you anymore. he was holding a pencil, but you couldn’t see what he was doing. “hello? are you listening to me?” you pouted, but he only hummed, too immersed in whatever he was doing at that moment. “hey, if you don’t wanna talk i can just hang up,” you mumbled, hurt that your boyfriend wasn’t paying attention to you.

being away from your partner was hard – you missed hyunjin’s soft touch as he hugged you and played with your hair every night before you fell asleep and you missed making breakfast for him and kissing him goodbye when he went to work. your trip was only temporary, but it didn’t make things easier. those video calls were the only way for the two of you to not lose your minds completely, so seeing hyunjin busying himself with something as you talked about your day broke your heart. were you really that boring? 

“what? baby, no, don’t hang up,” hyunjin snapped his head up at your words. 

“then listen to me!” 

“i am listening to you, love.” 

“then what are you doing, huh?” you pointed at the bottom of the screen, right at the pencil in his hand. 

“i’m drawing you!” he responded with a mix of amusement and disbelief in his voice, picking up his sketchbook to show you the halfway done drawing. you recognized your face on the paper, letting about a little oh and blushing like crazy.

“why are you drawing me?” you mumbled in confusion as your whole face and neck turned cherry red. hyunjin giggled at your dumbfounded expression, putting the sketchbook down.

“i always draw you as we talk through the phone, you just never noticed. it helps me deal with the distance,” he confessed, letting out a loud sigh. “i miss you, y’know? so every time we talk i want to remember your face and that’s why i draw you.” you snorted at his words, your laugh echoing through the kitchen. 

“god, you’re so dramatic. i’ve been gone for two weeks and you’re acting as if you haven’t seen me in years.” 

hyunjin shrugged his shoulders with a small smirk. “feels like years to me. but i mean it when i say i miss you. my bed feels empty without you in it.” 

you felt a pain in your chest at his words. “i know, baby, i miss you too. but i’ll be home soon and you won’t have to draw me anymore.” 

“i’ll do it anyway. i love you too much not to draw you," he beamed, making sure to capture the spark in your eyes on his drawing.

taglist ! @astraystayyh @laylasbunbunny @l3visbby @like-a-diamondinthesky @hanjsquokka @xichien @xocandyy @minhosbitterriver

[flippinpancakes64]

Hello! I love your stuff and I wanted to request their response to:

Reader: Let me take care of you.

Them: It's rotten work...

Reader: Not to me...not if it's you.

Keep writing! You're amazing! (And I need something to read while I stay up)

Taking care of the Cullens

Ok ngl this ask has me giggling and kicking my feet

Jasper let me take care of you 😡😭❤️

Uhm and remember in my request rules thing where I said I don’t do narratives… i might be a big fat liar cause that’s what I did here… don’t come for me

And thank you so much for the kind words! Thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy!

Edward:

We all know he has a bit of a complex when it comes to his worth and his humanity

He tends to get in his own head a lot

Especially when it comes to you and your relationship

He doesn’t really get jealous in the normal sense

He just sort of gets sad when he sees you with other people

It’s one day after school and Edward seems to be avoiding you. You’re sitting at the table with Emmett, Alice, Esme, and Jasper playing a card game.

Only Edward is nowhere to be found.

The game finishes, Alice winning and Emmett immediately going into ranting mode about how it’s rigged. You excuse yourself to go check on him.

You find him upstairs in the piano room, plunking away on the keys mindlessly. If he wasn’t a vampire and you didn’t know better, you would say he didn’t even notice you enter the room.

You stood behind him for a while, watching as his fingers danced over the ivory keys.

“It sounds beautiful” you say.

He doesn’t respond.

“Edward, what’s the matter? You’ve hardly spoken to me all day.”

“Do you ever wish I was human?”

The question catches you off guard.

“To wish for you to be human would be to change you, and I happen to love you just the way you are.”

He huffs, his fingers halting.

“But don’t you wish I was warm? Don’t you wish I could eat the foods you like, actually sleep next to you at night, grow old with you?”

You sit down next to him at the stool and take his hands in your own.

“What were you like when you were human?”

The change of subject seems to catch him off guard, his face twists slightly as he thinks. He pauses for a beat before answering.

“I was a bit of a troublemaker. My mom always said I was giving her grey hairs way too early. I didn’t do any of my schoolwork, I just wanted to go and be free.”

“Hm, sounds like the you that could sleep, eat, and grow old was a bit of a wild card. Not really my type. You know I prefer the sophisticated, musical type.”

He laughs at that, hanging his head down to press a kiss to your joined hands.

“So what you’re saying is you like the version of me without a soul better,” he says bitterly. You frown at that.

“No, I’m saying I like the you that I have now. I love you, Edward. I would never trade you for anyone else in the world whether they have a pulse or not.”

He’s quiet for a moment.

“You know this is how it will always be, right? I’ll always be here, trying some new way to push you away from me. To make you realize that you deserve better.”

“And I’ll always be here to take care of you and make sure you know that my mind will never change.”

“Taking care of me for the rest of your life… talk about the worst job you could get.”

“Only it won’t be a job. Not for me. Not when it’s for you.”

He looks at you then, finally. His big, black eyes staring into yours.

You’ve wished it before, but in this moment you wish you were the one who could read his mind instead of the other way around.

“You’re so stupid,” he smiles, and leans in for a kiss.

Maybe one day he’ll fully believe you.

Alice:

Alice has a tendency to shut down whenever there’s too much going on

Too many people are on the cusp of making decisions that could change their lives

It seems that every person she meets on the street has a vision attached

She can’t take it anymore

You find her curled up in a ball in her room, the TV playing a program you don’t think she’s watching.

Around her are scattered sketchbook pages, each one hastily ripped from the pad and thrown to the floor.

On these pages are drawings of buildings, people, animals, and tragedies. You catch the face of a woman who’s screaming as a bullet heads straight for her face. In another is an open room with a small grenade in the center.

No wonder she’s been so upset.

None of the pages show joy, every single one a warning of a disaster that’s just waiting to happen.

In front of her, there’s a stack of drawings that she’s flipping through. On one of them you catch what looks like your face, only it’s contorted in a scream. In another you see Jasper, but you can’t make out what’s around him.

“Alice,” you call out, and her head whips up. Maybe she hadn’t heard you like you thought she did. “What’s wrong?”

She looks at you like a deer in headlights for a moment, before her eyes glance back down to the papers in front of her.

“There’s nothing wrong. Not yet, at least.”

Her tone is grave. You can hear the desperation for an answer, or at least a break.

You sigh, and move to sit next to her. You reach to take the stack of papers from her, meeting no resistance. If she wanted to keep them from you, she could. But she knew now that fighting you was always going to be useless.

“Alice, I know you can’t control the fact that you see these visions. But you can control how much you obsess over them. This isn’t healthy.”

“I don’t need to be healthy. I can’t die or get sick.”

You sigh again. “That’s not what I mean and you know it. You can’t keep withering away in here obsessing over what might happen.”

“But-“

“No buts.” You say, throwing the stack of papers to the side. “How long ago did you have these visions?”

She thinks for a moment.

“Yesterday, I think.”

“Alright. Have they happened yet?”

“Well, no…”

“From what you saw, are they still a possibility now?”

“…they are… a very low possibility…”

You could see her reluctantly piecing together your words, clearly not wanting to admit her mistake out loud.

“Look, Alice, you know that I’m always touched by you looking out for me, but in moments like this I need to look out for you too.”

She looks into your eyes, then hangs her head again.

“But that’s not how it’s supposed to be. My gift, I should be the one taking care of you-“

“No. There is no ‘supposed to’ anything. Humans aren’t ‘supposed to’ be with vampires and yet here we are. So please just come with me and watch a movie or cuddle or something?”

She looks at you again, then. Staring into your eyes, then glancing around her room, at all of the papers, then back to you. She smiles slightly and floats up to her feet.

“Fine. But I’m picking the movie.”

Jasper:

This is a man who needs some serious love and reassurance

He’s always on edge around you, even if he plays it off like he isn’t

He’s just always so scared of hurting you or doing something wrong

And a lot of the time that manifests as him isolating himself to try and get you to leave him

It was gonna be one of those nights again.

A night that you would spend alone in the bed you were supposed to be sharing with the love of your life, Jasper.

But no. On a night like this, he’s out in the woods, far, far away. Stewing in his feelings and brooding.

You don’t even remember anything happening this time. Sometimes something can set him off; a jab from someone at school, a hug he gave you that ended up being WAY too tight, anything really. Anything that reminds him of how he’s not supposed to be with you.

But right about now, you’re sick of it.

The Cullens have taken to being quieter at night since you’ve started sleeping over a lot more, but you know they’re all here- all except for the one you want.

So it being 2 am won’t bother any of the other residents of the house. You roll out of bed and march your way over to the door, throwing it open (politely) and stomping down the steps.

Emmett is the first one you see, and you decide he’ll be perfect for the job anyway.

“What’s got you going, firecracker?” He asks.

“I need you to go find Jasper and bring him to me. Now. I need to talk to him,” you couldn’t help the anger and frustration that seeped into your voice. Lack of sleep will do that to you.

Emmett stood up straight and gave a stupid salute, “One loner coming right up, boss.”

And with that he was out of the door, and you trudged back upstairs to wait for your boyfriend.

You were laying in the bed, still trying desperately to go to sleep when you heard a light knock on the door. Your eyes flicked open to see Jasper standing in the doorway, looking completely out of place and uncomfortable.

All of your anger left instantly, all you saw was the sweet man who was far too worried for his own good.

You sighed and scooted over, patting the spot next to you.

“Come here, Jasper.”

A look of what could only be described as fear flashed across his face before he shook his head and muttered a small, “i can’t.”

You sighed again and stood up, making your way over to him. When you reached him, you stretched your arms out to take his face in your hands, his eyes wouldn’t meet yours.

“Look, Jas, I don’t know what you’re thinking, but I have a pretty damn good idea. You’re not gonna hurt me.”

“You don’t know that,” he says, looking into your eyes, something about the black made him look more human, more scared. “Vampires are already dangerous, but I’m the worst of the worst. You’ve found yourself a faulty cannon amongst rifles, darling.”

You frowned at his analogy, squeezing his perfect face in your hands.

“You are NOT faulty, you hear me? You are perfect. Perfect for me, at least.”

“The perfect man for you wouldn’t be tearing himself up inside trying not to kill you.”

“And a lesser man would have already done it.” He was shocked at that, stunned into silence. He hung his head slightly, not meeting your eyes once more.

“And what if I do hurt you one day? Would you ever forgive me? Could I ever forgive myself?”

“I don’t think you will. But if you do, Carlisle will put me back together and I’ll jump right back into your arms.”

His eyes bore into your soul as he stared at you like you were crazy.

“Why the hell would you do that? Come running right back to me?”

“To make sure you don’t hate yourself for too long. Now come on, I’m tired and I can’t sleep without my personal AC unit.”

He looked at you with disbelief. You knew he didn’t believe you, you don’t know if he ever will.

But that’s okay. You’ll keep him right here, and pull him back to you every time he runs away.

Eventually, he’ll understand that you love him.

Rosalie:

The topic of kids has always been a very touchy one for Rosalie

It’s all she’s ever wanted, and all that she still wants

Most days, the pain is not too much of an issue

But some days, it just gets to be too much

You and Rosalie were walking down the street, hand in hand as you strolled by the different shops and food stands.

The city was busy today, many young couples out and about, shopping, talking, kissing far too passionately to be in public, the usual.

“Rose, do you mind if we sit down for a bit? These shoes Alice chose for me look really nice, but they are so uncomfortable.”

She giggled, but nodded and led you both to a bench. You sat down with a heavy sigh, finally getting off of your feet after what felt like forever (even though it was only about an hour).

Across the way in the little park you’ve both found yourself in, a young couple is sitting on a bench.

The woman has long, flowing, blonde hair that frames her face in loose curls. She’s wearing a gorgeous floral-patterned dress, and on her left hand is quite possibly the biggest, gaudiest ring you have ever seen.

To her right, a man sits, one who bears a striking resemblance to you, regardless of gender.

And in the middle, a little baby. A perfect mix of the two, her hair and his eyes, her nose and his jawline, all swaddled in a cute little onesie.

You’re about to turn to Rosalie to point out the cute baby (she always loves to look and maybe go touch it if the parents allow her to) when you see that she’s already looking.

Her face is grave, like she’s looking at her own headstone. Her face is twisted in grief, and she looks on the verge of tears.

It takes you a second to connect the dots, but once you do, your heart clenches for her.

That woman looks like her, reminds Rosalie of herself. And the man looks like you. And that baby is what she wants, all she’s ever wanted. What she can’t have.

Babies are always hard for her, but this struck a deep chord.

“Rose… do you wanna go home?” You ask softly, not wanting to come off as pushy.

“…”

“Come on, let’s go,” you grab her arm to pull her up, she goes with you, but keeps her head craned back to the young couple the whole time.

Once you’re far away, she breaks down. You’ve never seen a vampire cry, and that’s probably because they can’t. But if they could, Rosalie would be sobbing.

You know it’s bad because she doesn’t even care that she falls to the floor in this dirty, nasty alleyway. Normal Rosalie would rather die 100 times over than get her clothes dirty, especially here.

You sit down next to her, letting her dry heave and gasp into your shoulder, her wails breaking your heart.

You’re helpless here. Cause what can you really do? You can’t give her a kid, she can’t give you one either. You can’t go back in time and stop her from being killed. And you can’t go back and steal that baby from that couple (even though you kind of really want to).

So you just hold her.

You run her hair, pat her back, kiss her head, and whisper into her ear. How much you love her, how she’s perfect, how it’s okay, how you don’t think less of her.

Once she’s calmed down and her breathing has slowed, she looks up at you.

“I’m so sorry. You shouldn’t be seeing this side of me.”

“What? I want to be here for you, Rose. I know I can’t fix this for you, but at least I can-“

“Fix it? Darling, don’t worry about fixing me. I’m already completely broken, there’s nothing to fix.”

With that you just take a moment to look at her. Her face screams that she is broken. In her soul, at least. Her and Edward are a lot more similar than they like to think.

“Rosalie. You are not broken. There is nothing wrong with you.”

She scoffs at that. “I’m not human. I’d say that’s pretty wrong. Not to mention the fact that I can’t even look at a couple with a baby and not want to violently kill someone.”

“And that’s okay.”

She scoffs again.

“No, really, Rose. I mean it. I’m never ever going to think less of you for something like this. You went through something I can never even imagine and now you’re left to pick up the pieces. Just let me help you.”

She looks at you, her eyes staring into yours. The grief that she’s feeling is evident. But deep in her eyes, you see a touch of something else. Trust, maybe.

“You know, you’re gonna be picking up pieces for the rest of your life.”

“That’s okay, I don’t mind. Not if it’s you.”

Emmett:

He likes to pretend to be all big and bad all of the time

But in reality, he's still a person

He just has a hard time remembering that sometimes

You don't know where he got all of that energy from.

I mean, realistically, you know that he can never get tired.

But really, even for a vampire this was unnatural.

Some nobody in school had challenged him to an arm wrestle. Of course, he can never resist. He grabbed the guy's hand and prepared to pummel him, only to flinch and have his hand thrown down against the wood of the desk.

The guy had one of those fake shock things in his hand, and as soon as Emmett clamped down it vibrated like crazy.

To say he was pissed would be an understatement.

And now he was taking all of that anger out on the trees around the Cullen house.

"That-" punch "fucking-" punch "ASSHOLE!" punch punch punch

It had been days. And you were honestly getting worried. He hadn't hunted in those days, much less came inside the house. You're surprised the park ranger hasn't come knocking yet.

You heard a hollowed cracking sound and looked to see Emmett standing triumphantly as a rather large oak tree fell to the ground, followed by a guttural roar from the man.

"Emmett," you called, barely above a whisper. But you know he heard you. "Come over here please."

He looks at you with a slightly guilty look, the anger from before fading away as he hangs his head and trudges over to you. He stops just a few feet in front of you, lamely kicking the rocks beneath his toes as he avoids your eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s that stupid fucking guy-“

“No,” you stop him, putting your hand up to silence him. “What’s actually wrong? Don’t tell me you’re seriously this pissed about losing an arm wrestling match with some nobody.”

He just stood there in silence for a second. You took this chance to stand up and grab his face in your hands, instantly he leaned in, perching his head on your palms.

“I just… need to be strong. That’s what I am, I need to be strong,” he whispered, his voice coming out shy and meek.

You just smiled at him sadly and rubbed his cheek.

“I can be strong too you know. So every once in a while you can let me take care of you instead.”

He laughed at that.

“You, strong? As if. I could fold you in half!”

You punched him lightly in the arm.

“You jerk! I’m trying to be sentimental!”

He laughed again and grabbed your hands, bringing them back up to their previous spot cradling his face.

“Ok ok, serious sentimental time.”

You just laughed and kissed him.

Esme:

She has a bad habit of overreacting

Just a dash of anxiety

So when something-anything happens to you, she freaks out

This is bad.

Like really, really bad.

You were supposed to be driving to go see Esme at the Cullen house, but of course your piece-of-shit car decided that now would be a perfect time to break down.

Too far away from home to walk back, too far away from the Cullens to walk there, and the nearest anything was also too far.

Not to mention the snow covering the ground didn’t really entice you to get out of your still-warm car.

So you tried calling someone to come get you.

Only, of course there’s no service out here because why would there be.

Just your luck.

You weigh your options, and decide that walking is just gonna have to do.

You didn’t pack a winter coat because you didn’t think you’d be outside for this long, but you had a blanket stored in your backseat and it was better than nothing.

So off you trekked through the freezing cold winter storm to the Cullen house.

Inside, Esme was (in)patiently waiting.

Your favorite meal was waiting for you, already plated and getting colder by the second on the dining room table.

You said you were on your way 30 minutes ago. It takes about 30 minutes to get from your house to their house.

So where were you?

Her ears perked at the sound of a slowly beating heart coming from down the driveway.

It didn’t sound like one of the foxes or deer that roam around this time of year. No, it sounded a bit bigger, a bit more human.

She was out the door in a flash. Before anyone had the chance to ask what she was doing she was by your side.

“Oh my god, honey, why are you out here?!”

“An angel…” and then you collapsed.

Cue Esme absolutely freaking the fuck out.

She has you in front of a lit fireplace, a heating blanket rested over your shoulders and a warm towel on your head.

She’s pacing back and forth in front of you. She wants to hold you so bad, to kiss you, cuddle you, protect you. But she can’t. She’ll just make the shivers wracking your body even worse.

“Es…” you croak, your eyes blinking open finally.

“Oh my god! Are you okay? How are you feeling? Why were you out there? Where’s your car? Why didn’t you call me?”

“Shhhh,” you whisper, bringing your finger up to shush her. “Just come here.”

You open up your blanket in an invitation to her.

“Are you out of your mind? I can’t cuddle with you right now, I’ll freeze you!”

“Please, you deserve to be taken care of too.”

She crumbles at that, you can see the resolve leaving her face. And then she figures that you won’t get too cold with the heated blanket and everything.

She cuddles up next to you, wrapping her arms around your waist and ducking her head into your neck.

“I’m so sorry, I should have been there. And least of all I shouldn’t be such a mess right now.”

“It’s okay to be a mess, I’ll always be here to hold you.”

Carlisle:

No one really talks about the stress of being a pretend father for a bunch of eternal teenagers

Really, it’s a blessing that he doesn’t need sleep and isn’t affected by long hours

But despite that, he still gets so worn out

Today had been a long day for Carlisle.

It was student-teacher conference day. And while that’s not usually an issue since he always tells the kids to behave, Emmett decided it was necessary to punch a kid last week.

To be honest, Carlisle didn’t really care if the kid was a bully or not, all he viewed it as was something more drawing attention to them.

On top of that, the cattiness between Edward and Rosalie seemed to be especially bad today.

They were at each other’s throats for the better part of the day, and nothing would get them to separate.

At work, at least a dozen new patients showed up. A factory that was close by had a gas leak, very minor. None of the people were harmed at all, but many still insisted on going to the clinic.

Carlisle’s not one to discourage people from getting checked out, but he is one to tell people to go home when they’re fine, which everyone was.

But these people kept insisting something was wrong. A boy with a broken arm had to wait for three hours for a room to open up because the factory workers refused to leave.

By the time he got home, he was exhausted, you could tell. His eyes were heavy, as were his footsteps. His hair was disheveled, he had clearly been running his fingers through it all day from the stress.

He looked like a mess. But even then, he greeted you with a smile and a kiss on the cheek.

He always takes such good care of you, whether you’re sick or not, he’s always there with whatever you want.

Now it’s your turn.

“Carlisle, are you busy?” You ask, peeking into his home office. Even after the super long day, he’s a man of habit.

“Not particularly,” he turns to look at you, setting his pen down, “why?”

“Follow me.”

You lead him to the bathroom, where a nice, warm back is drawn. Complete with lilac scented bath oil and two candles lit on the sink.

“The bath looks beautiful, darling. I’m sure the lavender will be great for your skin.”

“Oh, it’s not for me,” you quip. All he does is raise an eyebrow. “It’s for you. I know you’ve had a long day, so go relax and meet me in the bedroom when you’re done.”

You don’t give him a chance to argue before you leave, shutting the door tightly behind you.

He emerges about 30 minutes later, still toweling his hair off.

“Ok now come on over here,” you pat the bed next to you, motioning him to sit there. Again, all he does is quirk and eyebrow but he obliges.

You take the remote to the TV in yours and Carlisle’s room, turning on his favorite movie. A classic one from the silent film era.

“But this… I haven’t seen this movie in years… how did you get it?”

“That’s the beauty of streaming platforms.”

You both sit in silence for a while, Carlisle seemingly happy to just watch his favorite movie after so long. Eventually, he turns to look at you with an inquisitive expression.

“So, what’s all this for?”

“What, am I not allowed to take care of you from time to time?”

He laughs slightly at that.

“A human taking care of a vampire, how twisted.”

You grab his face between your hands at that, drawing him close and looking deep into his yellow eyes.

“It’s not if I want to do it, and I would move the Earth for you.”

“Hopeless romantic,” and with that he kisses you.

Vampire! Bella:

She tends to… shut down

We all know how she was when she couldn’t be with Edward

That translates over

It really wasn’t supposed to be that big of a deal.

Your Spanish class was going to be taking a two week trip to Spain.

Only, Bella wasn’t in Spanish. This time around, she chose to take French. Which was all fine and good, until it meant that she couldn’t go with you.

Cue two weeks of endless calls and texts.

On the phone with you , she sounds fine. But from your calls with Alice, she’s not doing too hot.

She hasn’t been hunting since you’ve been gone, she’s completely stopped going to class, and she also hasn’t talked to anyone in the house.

It’s the last night of your trip, you’re in your hotel room, the girl you’re sharing with is sound asleep in the other bed, but you know one girl who’s never asleep.

You call Bella’s number, and she answers instantly, like she’s been waiting all day for you to call. In all honesty, she probably has.

“Hey, what are you up to?” You can hear the attempt to be nonchalant in her voice, but her eagerness gives her away.

“Oh nothing, I just got off the phone with Alice… wanna tell me why you didn’t leave our room today? Or yesterday? Or the day before?”

You can hear her pause on the line, like she’s trying to come up with a convincing lie, but eventually she sighs.

“I just… I’ve just been missing you a lot, is all. I want you here next to me, I feel incomplete without you.”

Yowch. Right through the heart.

You decide then to help in some way, you don’t know how immediately, but you have to do something.

So you start to hum.

Whenever you have a bad day, Bella hums the song her mom used to sing to her. You always ask her to, and even though she says she isn’t a great singer, she indulges you anyway.

Sometimes it’s the only thing that can stop you from a panic attack or calm you enough to go back to sleep after a nightmare.

You hear her gasp slightly before y he sound of sheets rustling, presumably her laying her head down.

You go through the whole song twice over, Bella never telling you to stop or joining you.

After your voice fades out and the line stays dead for a moment, you swear you can hear Bella overthinking.

“You know, you didn’t have to do that. I’m an apex predator. I shouldn’t be so upset whenever you leave for a little bit.”

You laugh lightly at that, and you can hear her scoff across the line.

“I don’t mind. Especially when it’s you. Bella, I love you and I would do anything for you.”

“Even if I’m a beautiful monster who was designed to kill you?”

“Even if you did kill me, I would hope that my blood nourishes you for months on end.”

[jhyoos]

Rebel Girl

rockstar!sevika x influencer!reader

Chapter 6: Ex’s and Ohs

summary : you get invited to a big party downtown Vegas by a well-known celebrity. you decide to bring along the others.

mentions: modern au, fame au, drama, swearing, protective sevika, ex finn, overall finn just being a weirdo

notes: surprise! extra chapter. 🤭

chapters: one, two, three, four, five, six

The next morning, you woke up groggy but determined to stick to your usual routine—it was the only thing grounding you in the midst of all this chaos. You started with your hour-long shower, letting the water cascade over you as you tried to clear your head. Afterward, you brushed your teeth, meticulously went through your 30-minute skincare routine, and finished with a combination of lotion and baby oil that left your skin glowing. By the time you slipped into your classic baby tee and pajama pants combo, you felt like a semblance of yourself again.

Just as you were finishing up, a knock at the door interrupted your moment of peace. You padded over and opened it to find Vi and Jinx standing there, both with wide grins on their faces.

“Good morning,” you greeted them, leaning against the doorframe.

“Hey,” Vi replied, her tone casual but warm. “We were wondering if you wanted to join us for breakfast in the lobby. Haven’t heard from you all night, so we missed you.”

Jinx nodded enthusiastically, her wild blue hair bouncing with the movement. “Yeah, it’s not the same without you. You’ve got the best ideas, and we could really use your input.”

You gave them a small smile, appreciating the effort. “Oh yeah, sure. Just let me grab my stuff.”

Turning back into the room, you grabbed your phone and the bag with your hotel key, then followed them downstairs.

-

The lobby was bustling with activity, the smell of coffee and freshly cooked food wafting through the air. You were immediately struck by how awkward it felt as you approached the table and realized you’d have to sit next to Sevika. The tension between the two of you was palpable, but you pushed through it, plastering a neutral expression on your face as you took your seat.

Jinx, thankfully, was a great buffer, sitting on your other side and diving straight into conversation. “So, I was thinking we could do a retro-style drop for the merch—like 90s grunge but with neon accents,” she said, sliding her sketchbook toward you.

You leaned over to take a look, nodding thoughtfully as you offered suggestions. “What if you use a distressed font for the band name? And maybe incorporate some holographic details for the logos?”

Jinx’s eyes lit up. “Oh, that’s genius!”

Meanwhile, Vi and Caitlyn sat across the table, deep in their own conversation but occasionally looping Sevika in. You could feel Sevika’s presence beside you, her warmth, her voice, the occasional brush of her arm against yours. It was distracting, and you hated how much you noticed it.

The awkwardness shattered when your phone buzzed on the table. You glanced down and gasped, immediately catching everyone’s attention.

“Who is it?” Vi asked, curious.

You didn’t answer, too busy staring at the name on your screen. It was a call from Jayce Talis, the wildly popular YouTuber you had collaborated with a few months back. He was connected to every celebrity, constantly attending the biggest parties, events, and concerts, and making millions while doing it.

“Hello?” you answered, hoping and praying it was actually him.

“Hey, there’s my favorite girl,” Jayce’s smooth voice came through the phone. “I heard you’re in Vegas. You wanna come by one of my parties tonight? I’ll send you the address.”

You bit your lip, your mind racing as you looked at the others seated around the table. “Is it okay if four other people come?” you asked, feeling a flicker of hope.

“Sure, the more the merrier. I’ll send the location now,” Jayce said, his tone easygoing.

“Thank you so much,” you replied, genuinely grateful.

“Of course, babygirl. I’ll see you later,” he said before hanging up.

You placed your phone on the table, noticing everyone staring at you expectantly.

“Who was that?” Caitlyn asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Jayce Talis,” you said with a grin. “We’re invited to one of his parties tonight.”

“Deadass?” Vi’s eyes widened as she leaned forward. “Oh, fuck yeah. I heard his parties are crazy. So crazy you don’t even remember the next morning… no diddy.”

The table broke into laughter, the tension momentarily forgotten as everyone began buzzing with excitement over the plans for the night.

That evening, the hotel suite was a whirlwind of chaos as everyone prepared for the party. Clothes were scattered across the beds, makeup spilled across the countertops, and the music blasted loud enough to vibrate through the walls.

You stood in front of the mirror, adjusting your outfit—a short, sleek black dress with a daring slit up the side, paired with strappy heels that gave you an air of elegance. Your makeup was bold, smoky eyes with a hint of glitter and a deep red lip that made you feel confident. You finished the look with silver jewelry, your hair styled in loose waves that framed your face perfectly.

Caitlyn, ever the meticulous one, walked over and handed you a glass of wine. “You look stunning. Jayce is going to regret not staying on that call longer,” she teased, giving you a playful nudge.

You laughed, taking a sip. “Thanks, Cait. But this isn’t about Jayce. It’s about having fun.”

She smirked. “Well, if Sevika sees you like this, she might eat her words about not being serious.”

Your stomach churned at the mention of Sevika, but you quickly pushed the thought aside. Tonight was supposed to be about letting loose, not dwelling on unrequited feelings.

Meanwhile, Vi and Jinx were already well into the pregame phase, laughing hysterically as they downed shots of tequila. Vi was in a leather jacket and ripped jeans, her go-to look, while Jinx had gone all out in a neon mini dress that screamed chaos. Sevika, on the other hand, had kept it simple yet devastatingly attractive—a black button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up, paired with dark jeans and boots.

-

By the time you all arrived at the party, the energy was electric. Jayce’s mansion was everything you’d expected—luxurious, sprawling, and filled with people who looked like they belonged on magazine covers. The music thumped through the walls, a mix of EDM and Top 40 hits, as the group made their way inside.

The night quickly spiraled into drinking games, loud conversations, and dancing. Vi and Jinx had disappeared to the dance floor, while Caitlyn stayed by your side, sipping a cocktail and making small talk with other guests. You were about to join the others when you spotted Sevika across the room.

She was leaning against the bar, her posture relaxed, a drink in hand as she talked to two women who were clearly vying for her attention. One of them rested a hand on her arm, leaning in closer, and you felt your stomach twist.

Your heart sank as Sevika gave a low chuckle, her lips curling into that smirk you hated to love. She wasn’t even trying to hide the fact that she was flirting.

Caitlyn noticed the shift in your expression and followed your gaze. “Oh no,” she muttered, quickly grabbing your arm. “Don’t do this to yourself.”

You tried to pull away. “I just need to—”

“No, you don’t,” Caitlyn interrupted firmly, steering you toward another part of the room. “Come on, let’s get another drink and find something else to focus on.”

Reluctantly, you let her guide you away, but the image of Sevika laughing with those women was burned into your mind. You hated the way it made you feel—jealous, insecure, and foolish. You took a deep breath, silently vowing not to let it ruin your night.

Caitlyn handed you a fresh cocktail and gave you a reassuring smile. “Remember, you’re here to have fun. Don’t let her get in your head.”

You nodded, forcing a smile as you raised your glass. “You’re right. Cheers to that.”

But even as you tried to lose yourself in the party, the nagging ache in your chest remained, a constant reminder that Sevika would never be yours in the way you wanted her to be.

The party was in full swing, and the energy was electric. You and Caitlyn had thrown caution to the wind, taking more shots than either of you probably should have. The alcohol coursed through your veins, making everything brighter, louder, and a little more carefree.

Caitlyn, who rarely let loose like this, was surprisingly keeping up with you. The two of you sang along to every song blasting through the speakers, laughing as you tried to out-dance one another. At one point, Caitlyn leaned in close, her cheeks flushed from the alcohol.

"I think... I think I'm gonna confess to Vi," she blurted out, a mixture of determination and nerves in her eyes.

You paused, blinking at her before breaking into a wide grin. “Do it! You absolutely should! She’d be crazy not to say yes.”

Caitlyn laughed, shaking her head. “This might just be the liquor talking, but I think tonight’s the night.”

You gave her an encouraging push toward where Vi was standing, chatting with some other guests. “Go get her, tiger!”

Caitlyn took a deep breath, muttered something under her breath, and walked off, leaving you alone in the middle of the dance floor. But you didn’t mind. The music was too good, the vibe too perfect.

You found yourself dancing with a group of girls who had gathered nearby, all hyping each other up. You laughed, twirling in your dress, feeling freer than you had in weeks. The bass of the music vibrated through your body, and for a moment, you forgot all about Sevika, Jayce, and everything else weighing on your mind.

Then a finger tapped your shoulder, breaking the spell.

You turned, expecting to see Caitlyn or maybe even one of the girls you'd been dancing with. Instead, your breath hitched as your eyes landed on a familiar face.

“Finn?” you said, your voice laced with disbelief.

He gave you that same charming smirk that had once made your heart flutter. “Hey, gorgeous. What are you doing here?”

“What are you doing here in Vegas?” you asked, crossing your arms.

“I got invited,” he said casually, his voice smooth.

You knew why. Finn wasn’t just any guy; he was a famous actor. His rugged looks and effortless charisma made him a perfect fit for the action and sci-fi movies he starred in. He was always the center of attention, always in the spotlight.

And once, you had been right there with him.

The two of you had been a celebrity power couple. Fans adored how well you matched—your aesthetics, your energy. Everything about your relationship had seemed perfect. And for a while, it had been.

The sex, the lavish dates, the way he spoiled you… it was like living in a dream.

Until the dream turned into a nightmare.

Your chest tightened as the memories came flooding back. Coming to his house to pick up the dog you had adopted together, only to find him in bed with one of his co-stars. The shock, the betrayal, the fury that had led you to throw hands with both of them.

And then, the final blow—him kicking you out of his house in the middle of a storm, leaving you stranded in the pouring rain.

As if that wasn’t enough, you later learned she hadn’t been the only one. Finn had cheated on you with multiple women, and to top it off, he had even stolen money from you on more than one occasion.

Now, standing face to face with him again, you felt a rush of conflicting emotions—anger, hurt, and a flicker of something you didn’t want to admit might still be there.

“What do you want, Finn?” you asked, keeping your tone cold.

He tilted his head, feigning innocence. “Can’t I just say hi? It’s been a while.”

“Not long enough,” you muttered, turning away, but he caught your arm gently, pulling you back.

“Come on, don’t be like that,” he said, his voice soft. “I’ve missed you.”

You stared at him, your jaw tightening. “Missed me? Is that what you told all the other girls too?”

Finn’s smirk faltered for a moment, replaced by something almost resembling regret. “Look, I know I messed up. But maybe we can talk? Somewhere private?”

Before you could respond, you felt a firm hand on your back. Turning, you saw Caitlyn, her expression a mix of concern and warning.

“Everything okay here?” she asked, her eyes narrowing at Finn.

You shook your head, stepping back from him. “Yeah, we’re done here.”

Finn raised his hands in mock surrender, giving Caitlyn a once-over before meeting your eyes again. “Alright, I’ll let you go. But think about it, okay?”

As he walked away, Caitlyn gave you a look. “Are you okay?”

You nodded, though your hands were trembling. “Yeah. Let’s just… get another drink.”

Caitlyn hesitated but eventually nodded, steering you toward the bar. You couldn’t shake the feeling of Finn’s gaze lingering on you, but you pushed it to the back of your mind.

Tonight was supposed to be about fun. You weren’t going to let him ruin that for you. Not again.

The chaotic haze of drinking and partying had left you feeling a little too hot under the collar—agitated, restless, and desperately in need of a moment to yourself. You stumbled your way through the crowd, searching for Jayce. The booming bass of the music thumped in your chest as you finally spotted him perched on top of an expensive-looking table, holding court with a group of people.

“Jayce!” you called, your voice cutting through the noise.

He turned at the sound of your voice, and his face broke into a wide grin. Without hesitation, he hopped down from the table, his movement surprisingly smooth for someone as drunk as he seemed.

“Jesus,” he said, running his eyes over you in a way that made you simultaneously flattered and exhausted. “You look even better than the last time I saw you.”

He pulled you into a warm hug, and you hugged him back, patting his shoulder lightly. Jayce had always been like this—overly confident and unfiltered—but you knew his heart was in the right place.

“Thanks, Jayce,” you said, stepping back. “But, um… where’s the bathroom?”

He waved a hand toward the far corner of the room. “Oh, don’t bother with the public one. Just use mine. It’s upstairs, connected to my suite. See the elevator over there? It’ll take you directly up. My guard will let you in.”

You nodded, grateful for the shortcut. “Thanks, Jayce.”

“No problem,” he said with a wink, before climbing back onto the table.

You made your way to the elevator, a burly security guard already waiting by the doors. Without a word, he pressed the button for you and gave you a curt nod as the doors slid shut.

The ride up was quick, and you were relieved to find Jayce’s suite quiet compared to the chaos downstairs. You stumbled into the bathroom, kicking off your heels as you rushed to relieve yourself. In your slightly drunk state, you didn’t even think to lock the door.

After finishing, you washed your hands, staring at your reflection in the mirror. Your mascara was slightly smudged, and your hair was a little messier than you’d like, but otherwise, you looked… fine. Passable.

The sound of the door opening behind you made your stomach drop. You glanced up into the mirror, your heart sinking as you saw Finn standing there.

“Please, baby, let’s talk,” he said, his voice low and pleading.

You turned to face him, keeping your tone firm. “I’m good, Finn. There’s nothing to talk about.”

As you tried to brush past him, he grabbed you by the waist, his strength keeping you in place as he pressed you back against the wall.

“God, you look so sexy,” he murmured, his eyes dark and focused entirely on you. “Just let me get a kiss. I’ve missed your lips so much.”

Before you could protest, his hand was on your face, tilting it up toward him. You struggled against him, trying to push him away, but he was faster. His lips crashed onto yours, stealing the kiss before you could stop him.

Your mind raced, equal parts shock and anger bubbling to the surface as you fought against his grip. You planted your hands on his chest, shoving him back with as much strength as you could muster.

“Get off me!” you yelled, your voice sharp and trembling.

Finn stumbled back slightly, his expression flickering between surprise and frustration.

“Don’t act like you don’t still want me,” he said, his voice dropping into something darker.

“I don’t,” you spat, your chest heaving. “Stay the hell away from me, Finn. I mean it.”

Before he could say another word, you darted out of the bathroom, grabbing your heels as you made your way back to the elevator. Your hands shook as you pressed the button, praying the doors would close fast enough to keep Finn from following.

When you finally made it back to the party downstairs, your heart was still pounding. The noise of the crowd was both overwhelming and oddly comforting—it meant you weren’t alone. You immediately searched for Caitlyn or anyone you trusted, needing an anchor after what had just happened.

Finn’s presence had ruined the night for you. All you wanted now was to find a quiet corner, breathe, and maybe—just maybe—figure out how to piece yourself back together.

As you made your way back onto the party floor, the noise and flashing lights felt like a cruel reminder of your shaken state. Your heels clicked against the floor as your eyes scanned the crowd, desperately searching for a familiar face. You weren’t thinking much—just running on the hope that someone you trusted could pull you out of the spiral you were sinking into.

Your gaze finally landed on Sevika. She was leaning against the bar, her focus on a small group of girls, flashing them the kind of smirk that had once made your knees weak. Her hand brushed against one of their arms as she leaned in to say something that made them giggle.

For a moment, you hesitated. But then Sevika looked up, her sharp eyes locking onto yours. The instant she noticed the tears streaming down your face, her expression changed. The playful confidence melted away, replaced with concern and something else—something almost protective.

She straightened up immediately, excusing herself from the girls without another word. Her strides were long and purposeful as she closed the distance between you, her brows furrowed.

“Come on,” she said softly, slipping her hand onto your back to guide you. She led you out of the suffocating crowd and into the night air. The quiet of the outdoors was a stark contrast to the chaos inside, and you took in a shaky breath, grateful for the reprieve.

“Hey,” Sevika said, her voice low but insistent. She turned to face you, her hands gently gripping your shoulders. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

“I-I…” You tried to form the words, but they caught in your throat, choked by the sobs you couldn’t hold back.

Sevika crouched slightly, trying to meet your downcast gaze. “Take your time. Just tell me.”

You swallowed hard, finally managing to get the words out. “My ex… he…”

Her jaw clenched immediately. “What did he do? Did he hurt you? Did he touch you? Where did it happen?”

The barrage of questions came quickly, her tone growing harsher with every word. You squeezed your eyes shut, the memories flashing in your mind. “He kissed me,” you finally admitted, your voice trembling. “He made me kiss him.”

Her face darkened instantly, her entire demeanor shifting into something cold and deadly. “What does he look like? What’s his name?”

“Finn,” you said, your voice cracking. “He’s tall, has tattoos everywhere… He’s wearing bright yellow…”

You stopped yourself mid-ramble, suddenly realizing how Sevika’s fists had clenched at her sides, her whole body taut with anger. “Why?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I’m gonna kill him,” she muttered, her voice low and venomous. It wasn’t meant for you, but she said it loud enough for you to hear.

Her words sent a shiver down your spine. “Sevika, no,” you said, reaching out to grab her arm.

Her gaze snapped to yours, her eyes burning with a fury you’d never seen before. “He forced himself on you,” she said, her voice trembling with barely contained rage. “You think I’m just gonna let that slide?”

“You can’t,” you insisted, your voice rising. “It’s not worth it.”

“It’s worth it to me,” she shot back, her tone firm and unrelenting.

You shook your head, tears spilling again as you tried to pull her attention back to you. “Please, Sevika. Don’t do this. I just… I just need someone right now. Not revenge.”

Her shoulders dropped slightly, and for the first time, she seemed to really see you—the vulnerability, the pain. She let out a slow, shaky breath, her jaw still tight. “Okay,” she finally said, her voice softer now. “Okay. I won’t do anything. Not tonight.”

Relief flooded through you, and you took a small step closer, resting your head against her chest. She hesitated for a moment before wrapping her arms around you, holding you tightly.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, her voice low. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

You didn’t respond, just letting her presence ground you. For now, that was enough.

As Sevika comforted you, the quiet moment shattered when Finn stormed outside, his face twisted in anger. His voice slurred slightly, but his venom was crystal clear.

“You’re such a fucking whore, you know that?” he spat, his voice loud enough to draw attention.

Your head snapped toward him in shock, but before you could react, Sevika stepped in front of you. She squared her shoulders, shielding you entirely. Her voice was low and steady, but there was an edge to it that could cut steel.

“What did you just call her?” she asked, her mechanical arm twitching subtly as she balled her fists.

“A whore!” Finn shouted, stepping closer with an unhinged glare. “Up in the bathroom, playing hard to get, and now you’re cuddled up with some dyke?!”

“Chill,” Sevika warned, her voice dropping further, calm but laced with a deadly undertone.

“Chill?” Finn scoffed, his eyes wide with deranged fury. “Bitch, I’ll knock the teeth out of your mouth. I’ll make the rest of your life a living hell.” He took another step closer, now chest-to-chest with Sevika.

Sevika didn’t flinch. Instead, she tilted her head, giving him a slow once-over before smirking coldly. “Jesus… You dated this man? He’s pathetic.”

Before you could react to the insult, Finn’s fist flew. The sound of his knuckles connecting with Sevika’s cheek was loud enough to silence the faint chatter nearby. She stumbled back a step, more out of shock than pain, her face blank as she brought her hand to her cheek.

Then her expression changed. Fury washed over her features, her jaw tightening as she rolled her shoulders. Without another word, she swung her mechanical fist, and the sound of the impact echoed like a thunderclap. Finn crumpled instantly, hitting the ground like a sack of bricks.

You froze, your breath catching in your throat. Your hand gripped the wall to steady yourself as you stared at the scene, trying to process if this was reality or some drunken fever dream.

Sevika turned to look at you, her breathing even but her eyes searching your face for any sign of distress. You couldn’t move, too stunned to even speak.

The muffled noise of the party behind you suddenly grew louder as someone yelled, “There’s a fight outside!” The doors burst open, and a flood of people poured out to see what had happened. Gasps and murmurs rippled through the crowd as everyone’s eyes landed on Finn’s unconscious body sprawled at Sevika’s feet.

Jayce pushed his way through the crowd, his sunglasses perched on his nose but failing to hide his wide-eyed reaction. “Oh shit,” he muttered, looking down at Finn before glancing back at Sevika. “Is he dead? I can’t afford another death…”

Sevika didn’t answer, her gaze flicking to you briefly before focusing back on the crowd.

“He’s not dead,” you said, your voice shaky but loud enough to silence the murmurs. You stepped forward, your hand trembling as you gestured toward Finn. “But he forced himself on me in the bathroom you said was guarded, Jayce.”

Jayce’s head snapped toward you, his sunglasses lifting slightly as if he needed to see you more clearly. “For real?” he asked, his voice a mix of disbelief and concern. “I’m so sorry, (Y/N). I swear I’ll look deeper into this. I mean it. I’ll take your word for it—always. You’re my girl.”

He gestured toward his security team, who immediately moved to pick Finn up. “Get him out of here,” Jayce barked. “And make sure he doesn’t come back. Ever.”

As the guards dragged Finn’s limp body away, the crowd began to disperse, murmuring among themselves. Jayce gave you a small nod before heading back inside, leaving you alone with Sevika again.

She turned to you, her eyes softening ever so slightly. “Are you okay?” she asked, her voice calm but tinged with something that sounded almost like regret.

You nodded, even though your legs felt weak beneath you. “I don’t know,” you admitted quietly.

Sevika stepped closer, her presence grounding you as she placed a hand gently on your arm. “You’re safe now,” she said, her tone firm. “No one’s going to hurt you while I’m here.”

For a moment, you just stood there, letting her words sink in. You didn’t know how to feel—grateful, overwhelmed, or still shaken—but you knew one thing for certain: you felt safer with Sevika than anywhere else in the world.

Caitlyn, Vi, and Jinx rushed through the lingering crowd, their worried faces evident as they reached you and Sevika. Caitlyn was the first to speak, her eyes darting between the two of you.

“You okay… both of you?” she asked, her tone a mix of concern and urgency.

Sevika crossed her arms, her usual stoic demeanor back in place. “Yes, I’m fine, Cait,” she replied simply.

You nodded, though your voice wavered slightly. “I am too. Just… a little shaken up.”

Jinx stepped forward, her usual chaotic energy muted but still present. “It’s time to go… yeah?” she said, her voice lighter as she hooked her arm with yours. Without waiting for an answer, she started leading you toward the exit, offering you the comfort of her presence.

Vi and Caitlyn flanked the two of you, and Sevika trailed slightly behind, her sharp gaze scanning the remaining partygoers as if daring anyone else to cross the line. The group moved quickly through the mansion, the buzz of the party now a distant hum as more people decided to leave after the commotion.

The cool night air hit you like a splash of water as you stepped outside. The streetlights cast long shadows on the pavement, and the city’s noise provided a welcome distraction from your pounding heart. Jinx kept her arm linked with yours, humming softly to a song still stuck in her head.

Caitlyn glanced back at Sevika, lowering her voice so only she could hear. “You did good back there. He had it coming.”

Sevika grunted in response, but there was a subtle nod of acknowledgment.

As the group exited the mansion and approached the gates, the blinding flashes of cameras caught you off guard. Paparazzi were already gathered outside, shouting questions and taking rapid-fire photos. The flashes lit up the night like fireworks, and their voices overlapped, each trying to out-yell the others.

“(Y/N)! What happened in there?”

“Who was the guy Sevika knocked out?”

“Sevika, are you protecting (Y/N)?”

“Are you two dating?”

“Finn said you were in a relationship—care to comment?”

You instinctively shrank back, overwhelmed by the chaos. Jinx tightened her grip on your arm, glaring at the reporters. “Seriously, don’t you guys have anything better to do?”

Caitlyn stepped forward, raising a hand to shield her eyes from the flashes as she tried to create a path. “No comments. Leave her alone.”

Vi moved beside her, her presence intimidating enough to make some of the paparazzi take a step back. “You heard her. Back off,” she said firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Sevika stayed close to you, her tall frame a protective barrier against the invasive crowd. Her sharp gaze flicked over the reporters, daring any of them to push further.

“Sevika, is it true you assaulted Finn?” one of them shouted.

“Shut it,” Sevika growled, her voice low and threatening. The reporter quickly lowered his camera, the air suddenly tense.

The group finally pushed through the throng of paparazzi, with Vi leading the way and Caitlyn acting as a buffer. You kept your head down, your heart pounding as the cameras continued to snap.

Once inside the car, the driver quickly locked the doors and sped off, leaving the chaos behind. You exhaled deeply, leaning back against the seat as you tried to calm your racing thoughts.

“God, they’re vultures,” Jinx muttered, shaking her head. “Do they ever give it a rest?”

“They’ll move on to something else by tomorrow,” Caitlyn said reassuringly, though her brows were furrowed with concern.

Sevika remained silent, her gaze fixed out the window. Her jaw was tight, and her hands were clenched into fists on her lap. She looked like she was replaying the night in her head, simmering with barely contained anger.

Vi broke the silence, glancing at you in the rearview mirror. “You okay? That was a lot.”

You nodded slowly, though your voice was quiet. “Yeah. Just… tired.”

Jinx gave your arm a comforting squeeze. “Don’t worry, we’ll lock the doors, crank up the room service, and shut out the world for the rest of the night.”

You managed a faint smile, grateful for her attempts to lighten the mood. As the car sped through the neon-lit streets of Vegas, you couldn’t help but glance at Sevika. She was still staring out the window, her expression unreadable.

For now, you focused on the promise of quiet and comfort waiting back at the hotel, desperate to put the night’s events behind you.

Back at the hotel, the group gathered in Caitlyn and Vi’s room, the tension from earlier slowly melting away as the comforting smell of food filled the air. The table was covered with an assortment of takeout boxes—sushi rolls neatly arranged, crispy chicken wings glistening in sauce, golden fries piled high, and several tubs of ice cream waiting for dessert.

Jinx immediately dove for the fries, her mood lightening as she munched away. “This is exactly what we needed after all that drama.”

Caitlyn and Vi sat close together on the couch, their shoulders brushing as they shared a plate of wings. Caitlyn had a small, nervous smile on her face, stealing glances at Vi, who seemed completely at ease.

You took a seat on the floor, cross-legged with your sushi in front of you, watching the dynamic between Caitlyn and Vi unfold. Jinx noticed too, her eyes darting between them. “So… are you two gonna stop pretending or what?”

Vi choked on her drink, coughing as Caitlyn’s face turned beet red. “Pretending what?” Vi asked, wiping her mouth.

Jinx rolled her eyes dramatically. “That you’re not into each other. It’s so obvious.”

Caitlyn bit her lip, looking down at her hands. Vi glanced at her and then back at Jinx, sighing. “Fine. You caught us.”

Caitlyn’s eyes widened in surprise, but when Vi reached over and took her hand, her expression softened. “She was drunk, but I still accepted,” Vi said, her voice low but sincere.

Caitlyn smiled, squeezing her hand. “I asked Vi to be my girlfriend,” she admitted.

You clapped your hands together. “Finally! I’ve been rooting for you two since forever.”

Jinx leaned back, grinning smugly. “Told you so. Now kiss or something. Make it official.”

Vi rolled her eyes but leaned in to kiss Caitlyn, a soft, tender moment that made everyone cheer and clap beside Sevika but she was amused. Caitlyn laughed, hiding her face behind her hands as Vi pulled her close.

The rest of the night passed in a warm, comforting haze. Laughter echoed through the room, and everyone indulged in food and ice cream, the stress of the evening melting away.

When the night wound down, Sevika stood, stretching. “I’ll walk you back to your room,” she said, glancing at you.

You nodded, feeling a flutter of nerves. “Thanks.”

The two of you walked down the quiet hallway, the sounds of the city fading into the background. When you reached your door, you turned to her. “Thank you for tonight,” you said softly. “For protecting me. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

Sevika shrugged, but her expression softened. “You don’t have to thank me for that.”

Trying to lighten the mood, you leaned up and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek. “Well, I’m thanking you anyway.”

Sevika froze for a moment, her lips twitching into a faint smile as she nodded. “Goodnight.”

She turned and walked away, leaving you to enter your room. You closed the door, leaning against it for a moment as your heart raced. Shaking your head, you got into bed, pulling the covers up and letting the exhaustion of the night finally take over.

But just as you were about to drift off, a knock on the door startled you. You got up, wondering who it could be at this hour. When you opened it, Sevika stood there, her eyes intense and her expression unreadable.

“Sevika? Is something wrong?”

She hesitated for only a moment before stepping closer. “Fuck it… I have feelings for you too,” she said, her voice low and rough.

Before you could process her words, she leaned in and kissed you deeply, her hands gently cradling your face. The kiss was firm yet tender, filled with all the emotions she’d been holding back. You didn’t hesitate to kiss her back, your arms wrapping around her neck as your heart raced.

Sevika’s hands slid down to your waist, steadying you as she broke the kiss for just a moment, her forehead resting against yours. “Is this okay?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded eagerly, pulling her closer. “More than okay.”

She smiled before kissing you again, this time with more urgency. Her hands moved to the hem of your shirt, lifting it over your head and tossing it to the floor. You felt a thrill run through you as you tugged her into the room, your lips never leaving hers.

Sevika kicked the door shut behind her, the soft click of the lock echoing in the room. The night stretched out before you, a mix of passion and emotions that neither of you wanted to end.

taglist : @moodient @whatlefoop @nonexistentsourcherry @graciebloom @swordfemm4 @m00npjm @sevikasleftarm @fayecreates @artfairyyyyy @mulan-but-gay @inlovewithsevikaandambessa @sapphiellar @fudosl

[dragon-kazansky]

Bridgerton shade of blue

Benedict Bridgerton x Female Reader

Benedict bumps into you, quite literally, at a ball while trying to escape his mother's attempts to find him a partner. You decide to humour him with a dance, not realising just how entwined you would become with him. It seems the universe will find every excuse to push you and Benedict together, no matter how much you fight it.

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Season one

Chapter Nine - Late night scandals

♡♡♡

"What do you think Bridgerton?"

Benedict turns around to find the artist he had accidentally offended at the gallery the other night.

"This one more to your liking?"

"Mr. Granville--" Benedict raises from his chair to approach the man.

"Perhaps they should take it over to Somerset House so it can be skyed right next to mine."

"I believe I owe you an apology, sir." Benedict says, feeling rather embarrassed.

"Unnecessary. I actually quite enjoy the eloquent stings of your critique. So?" He gestures back to the painting on the wall.

"A touch morose for my tastes," Benedict says.

Henry points to the next one.

"A tragedy. The hound deserved better," Benedict comments.

Granville laughs. "Where is yours?"

"My..."

"Your work," Granville clarifies. "Are you tell me you're not an artist yourself?"

"Well, I-- I suppose sometimes I like to... Well, I mean, I almost--"

"I believe 'yes' and 'thank you' are the words you seek. But either way, you should come by my studio." Mr Granville holds out a small card to Benedict, who accepts it. "The pieces I do for myself are there, and I think you will find my real work far less, um... Oh, how did you put it? 'Cold and lacking inner life?'"

Benedict scrunched up his face as he nodded, still burning with embarrassment. "I shall never live that down, shall I?"

Mr Granville leaves.

Benedict returns to his table where he had been absentmindedly doodling. Eyes. He was sketching out a pair of eyes. Pretty ones. From memory.

He sighs and closes the sketchbook.

♡♡♡

As you sit in the drawing room of the Bridgerton house, as invited by Violet, you discover that she had no idea about the boxing match, or that Daphne had been there.

You keep your eyes focused on the latest Whistledown paper, though you had stopped reading it.

Daphne was playing the piano while her mother interrogated her.

"A boxing match is no place for any young lady." Violet sighs.

"Is it a place for a prince? Was he at today's match, sister?" Hyacinth asks.

"He certainly was."

"It is a loathsome and barbarous form of entertainment," Violet was very displeased.

That was when Daphne took the opportunity to mention you had gone as well, which had Violet looking at you.

"You too?"

You glare softly at Daphne, who gives you a smug little look. Crafty one, she is.

"Anthony invited me," you admit.

Violet looked terribly ill all of a sudden. You were sure she would being this up with her eldest son at some point.

"What about the duke?" Hyacinth asks.

"What about the duke?" Both Violet and Daphne ask at the same time. You eye Daphne curiously from your seat.

"Was he also present?" Hyacinth asked, less enthusiastic now.

"I do not know," Daphne says. "If the duke was there, I did not see him."

Hyacinth leaves the piano to go see what Eloise is up to. She had been scribbling away in her book since you arrived.

You put the Whistledown column down and rose from your seat to seek entertainment near the window. Watching the street was surely more entertainment than listening in on that conversation.

Anthony enters the room and greets both his mother and his sister. You turn and he greets you too.

"Did you truly take your sister to a boxing match?" Violet hounds him.

"Your admonishment will have to wait. I have news," he cuts her lecture short. "Prince Friedrich has asked for my permission to propose." He looks at Daphne.

She stops playing. "So soon?"

"Well, what did you tell him?" Violet asks.

"That I know better than to answer for my sister. I have no objections to the man. People speak well of him. Whatever you decide, Daph, you shall have my support."

You look at Daphne quietly.

"I... uh... I..." She doesn't know what to say.

"You need not decide now," Violet tells her. "You certainly have no known him long."

"Let me know when you have an answer, and I shall convey it." Anthony says to his sister.

"Indeed." Daphne looks at him.

Anthony leaves as quickly as he came in. It was clear Daphne needed time to think.

♡♡♡

When Daphne had pleaded with you to attend the next ball with her, you couldn't say no. There was a sadness to her gaze, and you wondered from where it had risen.

Something had happened between her and the duke, and she had been off kilter ever since.

The ball, like all had been so far, was wonderful. The theme was a little more out there this time, but everyone was behaving quite perfectly.

You were standing with Daphne as she scanned the crowd. Exactly who she was looking for, you weren't quite certain. You would suggest the prince on the account that the duke was apparently leaving London tonight.

The prince could be seen across the room. He was in conversation with someone. You glance toward Daphne, but your gaze shifts as Cressida Cowper comes over. You give Daphne a gentle nudge.

"Daphne." Cressida chuckles. "You look beautiful, as always."

"Thank you, Cressida," Daphne says politely.

"You could have chosen anyone," Cressida says. "You have gentlemen lined up to pay you tribute. Yet you did not hesitate to steal my chance for happiness away, did you? I knew the marriage market would make rivals of us, but I never thought youcapable of being my enemy."

"The man made his choice, Cressida. What did you expect me to do?" Daphne asks.

Daphne walks off in the direction of the prince. You look at Cressida and then walk off in the other direction.

There is nothing you could ever say to her.

You begin to walk alongside the dance floor, watching the couples dance. A hand comes into view, and you turn to see a friendly looking young man smiling at you.

"May I have this dance?"

You take a moment to gather yourself. You had hoped one of the Bridgerton boys would be here to dance with you, but you supposed you couldn't rely on them every time.

"You may."

You go with him to dance.

It seemed Benedict wasn't here.

♡♡♡

Benedict was, in fact, making his way to the studio of Mr. Granville. He was intrigued by the artist.

He finds the address and knocks on the door. Henry Granville answers.

"Mr. Bridgerton."

Benedict stands there a little awkwardly.

"Come in, come in."

Granville lets him in. Benedict enters and follows him. He is led further inside and finds himself in a large room. A circle of easels presented around two nude models.

"I do not know what I was expecting, but it surely was not this." Benedict says.

"Oh, simply a gathering of like-minded souls." Henry tells him. "Here, let me show you what I've been working on."

Benedict is led further inside the studio. He passes a couple of painters discussing war so causally.

"What do you think?" Henry asks.

Benedict walks over and takes a look at the canvas.

"Hmm. It's a far cry from Somerset House, I must say."

"I shall take that a compliment."

They both chuckle.

"And I must say, I'm truly jealous. Is this your life?" Benedict asks.

"There are advantages to being the second-born." Henry tells him. "Heirs have the responsibility. Second sons have the fun."

They both chuckle again.

"So... why not go have some fun?" Henry gestures to the models. He's giving Benedict the chance to epress himself through art.

Benedict picks an easel and sits down.

♡♡♡

As you dance once again tonight, you spot Anthony standing off to the side. He's staring at the opera singer.

You hard heard whispers about him being infatuated with an opera singer, but had no idea if there lay any truth to them.

You continue dancing with your partner.

Benedict was still a no-show tonight, which you found to be rather disappointing. You had been looking forward to another evening of his little quips and teasing.

When the dance ends, you curtsy to your partner and head in the direction of Anthony and Violet. Lady Bridgerton had tries to introduce her son to a rather pretty young lady, but he showed no interest.

"Shall we dance, Lord Bridgerton?" You ask, looking at Anthony.

He turns and looks at you, for half a second, thinking you were another lady his mother was intent on pushing on him.

"Yes, let's." He offers his arm, and you take it. Violet watches you both go. Even if he chose you, she would be pleased, but she knows her son will not take you as his wife. You're his friend who has come to rescue him from her for a while.

Violet downs a third glass of champagne.

"She is persistent," you say.

"Hm?"

"Your mother."

Anthony chuckles softly. "Yes. Quite."

"The opera singer..."

He looks at you.

"Nevermind. Its not my business."

Anthony's expression softens. "I was - am - found of her."

"Yes. I assumed as much."

Anthony sighs. "It's complicated.

You nod and say no more on the matter. Anthony spins you around elegantly.

"Is Benedict not here tonight?" You ask, twirling with him.

"Benedict? No." He gazes at you. "Why do you ask?"

"I just noticed his absence."

"Missing your dance partner?" He teases.

You chuckle. "Am I that obvious?"

He winks at you, and you shake your head with a smile. "I'm fond of you boys. I can't help it when I notice one of you is missing."

Anthony grins. "How lucky we are to have gained such a special friend such as you."

As Anthony gives you another turn around the floor, you spot Colin speaking with Penelope. You smile softly at the sight and then turn your attention back to the eldest brother.

At least you'll have one Bridgerton on your dance card tonight.

As the next dance begins, Anthony keeps your company longer. You're aware this may catch attention from others, especially Lady Whistledown should she be here, but none the less, you dance with him twice.

You soon see that Colin has left Penelope on the sidelines to dance with Miss Thompson, and you also find the prince talking to Daphne amidst their dance.

The dance ends, and you manage to catch sight of Daphne fleeing the ballroom.

Anthony bows, and you curtsy.

"Until next time." He nods his head at you. You smile and nod, taking your leave. You worry about Daphne and intend to go check on her, but you're stopped by another gentleman.

You sigh and realise you'll have to dance with him before you can flee again.

The dance feels like it drags on, and on, and on. You smile, you listen to your partner talk, but your mind is focused on Daphne. She did not look well when she fled.

When the dance ends, you spot Anthony leaving the ballroom. You waste no more time and follow him.

He heads outside. You follow.

"Anthony?"

He turns and looks at you. "Go back inside."

"What's the matter? What's happening?"

"Did you see him?" Anthony asks urgently.

"Who?"

"The duke."

"He is here?"

"He was, and now I can't find Daphne." You realise he's concerned about his sister.

You hear something further in the garden, and Anthony hurries off. You follow him, close on his heels.

What you find is not what you ever expected to see.

Simon and Daphne were not just kissing. His hands were all over her. Her dress had been pulled down. You cover your mouth, though you can not hide the gasp that escapes you.

Anthony runs at Simon.

"Bastard!"

Simon receives a strong punch to the face. He falls to the ground, and Anthony takes another swing. He punches him a third time and then stands beside his sister. You hurry to her other side and checks her over.

"Daphne..."

She is speechless. She has no words for you. They have been caught in a compromising position.

"You will marry her," Anthony declares.

"What?" Daphne looks at her brother.

"Immediately. We can only hope no one saw you take such liberties, and my sister is saved further mortification. You will marry her!"

Anthony is angry.

"Brother!"

"I cannot marry her," Simon says.

"You have defiled her innocence, and now you refuse her hand? I knew you were a rake, Hastings, I never thought you a villain."

"I cannot marry her," Simon states more firmly.

Daphne looks hurt.

"Then you leave me no choice. I must demand satisfaction."

"A duel? Anthony, you cannot--" Daphne begins.

"He dishonours you, sister." Anthony looks at her. "He dishonours you and me and the very Bridgerton name. I have misjudged you, indeed. You have duped us both, but I shall not see my sister pay for my own misdeeds. We will settle this as gentlemen."

"I understand," Simon agrees. "I shall see you at dawn."

"I do not understand," Daphne says softly. "You would rather die than marry me?"

You look at Simon quietly.

"I am truly sorry."

"We need to go, Daph. Before anyone should see us." Anthony says softly.

You reach out for her arm gently and pull her away, Anthony follows you both.

Daphne takes her brother's arm after he begs of you not to say a word about anything. You swear by it, looking him in the eye. Anthony thanks you.

You drift off from them as you enter the ballroom once again.

Anthony approaches Colin and tells him he is taking her home. He asks Colin to take care of their mother. You decide to step in and help. Anthony looks grateful.

Anthony and Daphne leave.

Colin looks at you, but you just smile softly at him and ask him to help you with Violet. He doesn't say anything about Daphne or Anthony.

Neither do you.

♡♡♡

@callmemana - @lilscast - @imgondeletedis - @benedictbridgertonss - @clownsdiehard - @wxnterwidow333

@sillynilly27 - @autumn-slaves - @ben-has-arrived - @ajdelilah - @aadu2173

@booknerdlife - @tamlinrose - @sarahskywalker-amidala - @cheryyluv - @louschan - @lou-la-lou - @cultish-corner

@hopshusushi - @katherinejess - @nannabug - @afunkyfreshblog - @f0x33 - @dd122004dd

@jupitervenusearthmars - @orchiidflwer - @bespinnn - @captainlunaxmen - @winchestersimpalababy - @acupnoodle

@ms-fandomgirl - @fablesrose - @anyaisinyourcloset - @meowzerzstuff - @orchiidflwer - @bespinnn - @crazymar15

@cosmixstar - @bree3parchen -

[prythianpages]

Too Good To Be True | Lucien x Reader

...you're just too good to be true...can't take my eyes off of you...

summary: in which your newest muse catches you red handed.

word count: 1,600

a/n: I do struggle writing Lucien but I had seen this tiktok and wanted to write a meet-cute over it and when I saw this fanart above made by IG user kri_stasss_, I took this as a sign lol. I also listened to the song can't take my eyes off of you like 100x while writing this.

With a sigh, you lean back into your seat, allowing your eyes a break. You had been sitting at the corner of the bustling cafe for over an hour, choosing to surround yourself with Velaris’s warmth and the smell of coffee in the hopes to finally draw something.  But your sketchbook is spread open on the table with a half-finished drawing.

You look at the view before you, the Sidra River shimmering like pure sapphire under the sun’s gaze. The leaves of surrounding trees rustling gently in the soft spring breeze and flowers vibrant hues adorn the riverwalk. It’s a beautiful sight–one that many stop and admire. Yet, it is not enough to fuel the inspiration you so desperately need.

The flowing water and distant laughter of children blend into a soothing symphony as you absentmindedly twirl your pencil between your fingers, thoughts drifting. Send me a muse, you plead to the Cauldron, yearning to feel that thrill again.That spark that ignites your passion of drawing. The very one that moves your hand effortlessly across the paper.

The sound of iron against pavement startles you, pulling you from your thoughts. You blink your eyes back into focus and instinctively, they land on the source of the noise. The table diagonal from you, that had been vacant for the past hour, now has an occupant. An occupant who is blocking your view of the Sidra River, the very one that is half drawn across your sketchbook.

But you can’t bring yourself to complain.

Not when there is a man of striking beauty seated there. 

His mere presence commands your attention, his red hair catching the sunlight and gleaming like fire. You feel your breath catch in your throat as your eyes trace the elegant lines of his face. Brutal scars mar the left side of his face–from his brow all the way down to his jaw. 

Despite this, the male is devastatingly handsome. Ethereal. 

Too good to be true, you think, finding yourself captivated by his eyes. His right eye, whole and russet-colored, holds a depth that draws you in. But his left eye…His left eye is a mechanical marvel, golden and intricate, and gleaming with an otherworldly light.  

And suddenly, you’re overwhelmed with an urge to touch him. To reassure yourself that he is real and not just a figment of your imagination. Gods, with a face and built body like his, he’d be heaven to touch…

A rush of excitement floods your veins and you feel a familiar thrill coursing through you. Your hands are turning the pages of your sketchbook until a blank page sits before you. And before you know it, you’re pouring your awe and fascination into each stroke of your pencil. Your eyes flicker up and down as you commit the details to mind, heart pounding every time with the fear of being caught. 

Though you're cautious about it, you’re too lost in his eyes to catch the way the male’s lips curve slightly upwards.

**

Lucien takes the last sip of his coffee, admiring the sight before him. The sun is beginning to set, painting the sky in twilight hues and dancing across the Sidra River. Along the riverwalk, Fae stroll leisurely. Couples walk hand in hand, children skipping along the cobblestone path, pausing to catch the fireflies that are now visible in the dimming light.

Velaris was proving to be more beautiful with each passing day—a sight he’d never expected from a place like the Night Court. All his life, he had only come to know the Court of Nightmares. A place that truly lived up to his name. And though there were children laughing and running freely, he couldn’t help but still be wary of the City of Starlight. It was still part of the Night Court, after all.

His eyes scan along the riverwalk, golden eye making a soft sound as it moves, in search of something. Or rather, someone. Just as a frown is about to settle on his face, he finds what he was searching for. The reason why he was at this cafe…despite the fact that the best espresso in town was at a little coffee shop in the Rainbow of Velaris.

You.

You are sitting at a bench, knees drawn up and a sketchbook nestled onto your lap. As the sun continues to make its descent, the street lamp near you croaks to life. It bathes you in its soft glow and he is able to appreciate the slight furrow of your brow, the slight way your lips purse in concentration. He wants to know what you're drawing.

Ever since he caught you staring at him at this very cafe, he had an inkling as to what may be hidden within those pages of your sketchbook. He had meant to approach you about it but you had been so into your sketch, he found the sight endearing and feared disrupting you. 

So he had left you to it and showed up to the cafe the next day at the same time in the hopes of seeing you again and he did. That time, your gazes had met and though it had been brief, it felt everlasting. He remembers the way your cheeks tinted with blush before you turned your head away, flustered at being caught. If only you had seen the way he had smiled softly to himself afterwards.

It’s been days since that incident. Though he didn’t find you in that same spot the day after, he came to the conclusion that this was your favorite area to frequent in Velaris. It slowly became his too, his eyes always finding you amongst the busy riverwalk. 

Lucien had never been the shy type–at least, not when it came to pursuing people he was interested in. He had just been waiting for the right time–for the right moment to talk to you. And as you closed your sketchbook with a light exhale, his heart fluttered as he realized what better time than now.

**

Calling it a night, you close your sketchbook with a soft sigh. The sun had been replaced by the moon and the street lamp’s light was too dim for your liking to continue you drawing. You feared messing up what you had meticulously spent hours on. As you rise from the bench and turn to make your way back home, you bump into a smaller frame than yours, the sketchbook in your hold falling from your grasp.

“Sorry, miss!” A lively voice chirps and when you look toward the source, the small child is already far away from you. Kids, you muse to yourself as you turn back around.

Your breath catches in your throat. Standing right in front of you is the male who has become your muse.

But he’s not looking at you.

No, he’s looking at the sketchbook on the ground. Your heart skips a beat, heat rising to your face. The sketchbook had opened to the pages you've been working on—the ones with multiple sketches of his eyes.

You’re frozen in horror, watching as he studies your work. None of you say anything for a moment. It’s when his gaze lifts to yours that you spring into action. “Oh,” you gasp, beginning to bend your knees to gather your belongings. You're absolutely mortified, praying to the Cauldron he can’t hear how fast your heart is racing.

“I’m so sorry.”

Before your hand can reach for your sketchbook, another hand beats you to it.

“Don’t be,” he says, his voice deep and enchanting, causing your hand to freeze in midair. There seems to be a magnetic pull in his words, a sincerity that makes your heart flutter. Is there anything about this male that is not attractive?

“I’ve never seen the beauty of my eyes until now.”

The words are spilling from your mouth before you can stop them. “You’re joking, right?”

He’s knelt before you, his hand hovering over your book. But instead of picking it up for you, he grasps for your hand instead. It’s warm and calloused yet feels so good against yours. Like heaven. His eyes finally meet yours, holding you captive. He slowly brings your hand to his lips, and you don’t think you’re breathing as he presses his lips against your skin.

“No,” he grins as he rises to his full height, using his free hand to grab your sketchbook before bringing you with him. “I’m Lucien.”

It takes you a moment to realize he is waiting for you to speak, his presence overwhelming but exhilarating.

“I’m—” you clear your throat to steady your voice. “I’m y/n.”

“y/n,” Lucien repeats with a smile, finally handing you over your sketchbook.

You take it, immediately clutching the book tightly to your chest and avert your gaze, casting it downwards. “I promise I’m not a creep. I was drawing the Sidra–well, attempting to, anyway. But then you came along, blocking my view and something came over me. You see, I’ve been struggling with artist block and your eyes–your eyes are so pretty”--and under your breath, you mutter–” All of you is, if I’m going to be honest…”–Lucien’s smile widens at that–”and I finally felt inspired–oh gods, I’m rambling. I should just shut my mouth.”

Lucien’s russet eye twinkles with amusement. “I inspired you?”

“Yes,” you answer quietly and bashfully.

“Then perhaps,” he says, his voice low and intimate. “I should let you inspire me as well.”

Slowly, you lift your head back up, meeting his eyes once more. A wave of relief surges through you as you find nothing but sincerity and shared interest in his gentle gaze. You find yourself mirroring his smile, and something warm blossoms in Lucien’s chest—the start of something beautiful.

And he can’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, the Night Court isn’t so bad after all.

a/n: okay, that's enough Lucien for now. Can't keep letting him distract me because I need to focus back on the other Vanserra *cough* Eris *cough*

general tag list: @scooobies, @kennedy-brooke, @sillysillygoose444, @lilah-asteria @the-sweet-psycho

@daycourtofficial, @milswrites, @stormhearty, @pit-and-the-pen

[55sturn]

✮ FEEL IT ON THE WAY HOME

pairing: matthew sturniolo x fem!reader

synopsis: in which matt finds himself growing jealous of y/n's friendship with nathan, despite matt not officially being with her, however she sees his deepest worries and assures there's no one else for her.

warnings: swearing, jealous!matt, snide comments here and there from matt (basically passive aggressive!matt), relationship anxiety, angst if you squint.

THIRD PERSON POV

if anyone were to ask matt, when he fell in love with you, he'd tell you somewhere between junior and senior year. but deep down he knew that he was lying. he knows he fell in love with you the moment he met you.

the two of you met during the summer between eighth and ninth grade. it was the one and only summer he let his mom send him away to summer camp with his brothers. he decided that he'd go once, just for the memories.

and boy did he make some memories.

FLASHBACK

"matt c'mon! they're letting us have a free hour on the beach!" chris exclaimed loudly as he jumped on his brother's bed, disturbing the middle triplet who tried to peacefully nap during their free hour.

"chris go away!" matt grumbled, pulling the pillow over his head, keeping away from chris until nick came into the room, ordering matt to get up. matt obliged, but not without complaint.

the three boys made their way down to the beach. chris immediately took off toward the makeshift court where a few boys his age were playing basketball. nick took off toward alahna who attended the camp as well.

matt was about to follow nick when he spotted a girl, probably his age sitting alone at table drawing away in a sketchbook.

"hey, why are you by yourself?" matt greeted, sitting across from her, feeling the need to keep this girl company.

"i just moved to boston and my mom sent me to this stupid camp to make friends in time for school but i'm mad at her so i'm not gonna make any friends." the girl replied, not taking her eyes off her book as her pencil scribbled furiously. when she realized he wasn't leaving, she let out a dramatic sigh and looked out at the water.

"well, i'm matt!" he laughed, noticing how stubborn she was about not looking at him.

"i'm y/n." she replied, finally looking at him and felt her face grow warm, but she thought that was gross so she chalked it up to the summer air against her skin.

a week later, the girl left summer camp with four new friends, despite her penchant for being alone.

when the school year began, y/n quickly found that she was attending the same high school as the triplets. she was quick to fall into their routine, developing a close relationship with their closest friends as well. almost immediately fitting into their dynamic and group.

however, y/n got rather close with nathan almost immediately after meeting him. she opened her arms and let nate in without fighting, she felt a strong brotherly tie to him.

however matt didn't know that she only considered him a brother, his jealously stewing over time. he knew he was falling in love when he wanted to punch nate for stealing y/n from him. he knew he was falling in love when he was angry when he should've been happy when y/n found her first boyfriend.

he knew he was falling in love the moment he met her.

FLASHBACK OVER

in the two years since y/n, the triplets, alahna, and nate have graduated, matt hasn't been able to pinpoint the exact moment his relationship with y/n changed.

they went from awkward teenagers trying to navigate uncomfortable and unfamiliar feelings that brew in the pits of their stomachs every time they met their best friend's eyes, to people testing the waters of what is considered a normal friendship while cuddling, spending the night with her chest to his back and his arm wrapped tightly around her waist.

they went from best friends teasing each other relentlessly over not having their first kisses only to become each other's first kisses. they kept the terribly awkward, clashing of teeth, tongue in the wrong spots type of kiss, to themselves.

however, despite their first kiss being terrible, once they graduated and the triplets moved to los angeles, y/n and matt had a tendency to share more kisses every time they convinced her to come out to los angeles or whenever the triplets flew back home to boston.

matt depended on those close, personal moments of intimacy with y/n. they made him feel like he had her in his life in a way that no one did. she was special to him, his first ever love. he didn't want to give that up. and so, he and his brothers were on their way to boston, partly because they missed home and mostly because matt needed to see her.

"so are you gonna tell her?" nick hummed, looking at matt who sat in the middle seat of their section on the plane, his eyes glued to his phone as he watched the minutes tick by, his right knee bouncing rapidly as he waited for the plane to land.

"huh? tell who? what?" matt replied, a delayed reaction to nick's question, the pounding in his chest travelled to his head, causing his reaction time to be slowed.

"he asked if you're gonna tell y/n that you've been in love with her for like ever, bozo." chris snickered, earning a swift smack to the stomach, causing chris to double over groaning slightly. okay so maybe, matt's reaction time wasn't delayed.

"shut up chris. i'm not in love with her."

"that's bullshit, and you know it." nick mumbled, earning a glare from matt who just slumped back in his seat, plugging his airpods into his ears, trying to ignore his brothers and their ridiculous teasing for the rest of the flight. the flight couldn't go by fast enough for matt, who was subconsciously biting his nails as he listened to playlist that y/n had made for him. as the boys struggled to but kept busy, the flight was soon over, all three of them rushing to grab their carry/ons and get off the plane.

as the triplets headed toward their house, they grew nervous. all their friends and family knew they were coming home and were awaiting their arrival. matt felt his nerves calm slightly when he heard y/n's laugh from the open window in the kitchen.

as he pushed through the door, he felt his heart crumble to pieces deep in his chest. seeing y/n, thrown over nate's shoulder laughing loudly as he tickled her, bright matching smiles on their faces, made his words and feelings get stuck in his throat as it ran dry.

matt scoffed slightly and rolled his eyes as y/n looked up from her place over nate's, smiling brightly and squealing slightly as nate placed her on her feet. matt ignored the bitter jealously rising up his throat as she wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing his cheek briefly.

"i missed you." y/n whispered as she pulled back slightly, the look on her face sending a stubborn, unwavering warmth through matt's chest that he tried to fight hard to fight.

"yeah, you too." matt hummed, hardly looking at her as he stared nathan down, a half-assed grin on his face while he dapped his childhood friend up. as y/n hugged nick and chris, she felt eyes staring into the back of her head. turning around, she met matt's angry stare along with nathan's blissfully unaware, cheesy and lopsided grin.

"can we go to denny's? i could so fuck up some of their waffles right now." y/n laughed, looking to matt, her eyes softening as she silently pleaded for the boy in front of her to drive the group to denny's.

"yeah lemme put my shit away and we can go." matt sighed, the hardened front he masked himself with easily cracking and crumbling down completely around his feet under the soft stare that had him weak in the knees every time he looked her way.

as he quickly shuffled his suitcase and duffel bag up the stairs to his room, he felt his mind swarm with conflicting emotions and ideas, unsure if he wanted to punch his best friend for carelessly flirting with y/n as if his feelings weren't painfully obvious or if he just wanted to settle in security, knowing that he had y/n in a way no one else did.

sighing, he returned back to the group of people waiting for him, knowing if he stayed in his room, someone would come  looking for him and he didn't have the nerve to talk about the feelings swirling beneath his ribcage.

the group piled into the van, chris, nick, and matt all in their respective spots, with nate and y/n squished beside each other, giggling amongst themselves as they talked about god knows what.

"so y/n, did you finally ask out that guy you said you were into?" nick prodded, tilting his head inquisitively as he eyed the way her and nate interacted.

"wait, did you think that guy was nate?" y/n laughed loudly, not missing the things nick said with a look.

"i mean, y'all act like a couple." nick chuckled as y/n rolled her eyes.

"yeah you do, it's fucking annoying." matt whispered to no one in particular as his eyes flicked to y/n in the backseat, however chris caught his comment and quietly giggled to himself. the rest of the drive to denny's consisted of the three in the back bickering over shit while chris watched matt stew in his jealousy from beside him, smirking to himself.

as the group piled into the restaurant, they all ordered their preferred forms of breakfast despite it being nearly two in the morning. the group giggled amongst themselves, save for matt who couldn't stop glaring at nate. y/n had picked up on and it made her feel unsettled, she couldn't pinpoint why he'd be upset.

as everyone finished paying for their food, y/n pulled matt aside, her hand on his arm as she looked up at him.

"what's goin' on up there?" she asked, her voice soft and calm, hoping it'd ease matt into talking, and help her get a sense of understanding what he was feeling.

"it's nothing, y/n." he muttered, his voice cold and slightly unsteady as he pushed her hand off his arm.

"matt, c'mon i know you better than you think i do, tell me what's bothering you. you've been acting weird since you first walked in the door. nate's noticed it and so have i."

"why don't you just go bother nate about it then? you seem to be much closer with him anyway." he snapped, rolling his eyes are the shock that fell on her face, before feeling his heart sink as her eyes held something that resembled hurt.

"that's what this is about?"

"y/n, drop it please."

"no matt, i thought it was clear that i don't see anyone else the way i see you."

"well with the way you've been acting with nate it makes me wonder what we actually are. i'm normally not the type to get jealous but jesus christ, i can't help it. you're an amazing girl, any guy would be lucky to have you as their girlfriend or whatever we are and i sometimes wonder why you're into me." matt whispered, unable to keep his feelings at bay any longer with the way she was looking at him, her head tilted, nothing but love and concern in her eyes. she made him feel safe, like he could tell her his deepest emotions and she would listen intently, providing safety for him.

"matt,-" she whispered, stepping closer to him and cupping both sides of his face, her thumbs dragging along his cheekbones as he leaned into her touch, his eyes falling shut briefly.

"there is absolutely no need to worry at all, i'm yours, okay? i-" she paused, taking a deep breath before continuing,

"i love you, matt. i've never looked at another guy the way i've looked at you. not once, and frankly i don't want to. there's no one that can understand a simple look from me the way you do. there's no one who knows me better than you, no one else who's ever taken the time to understand me and be patient with me the way you have. i am yours, and i hope that you're mine. okay?"

"okay." he whispered back, nodding softly as she leaned up, pressing her lips to his in a gentle but passionate kiss that meant they had a mutual agreement, that they were each others, and that one kiss, that one simple kiss that meant they understood each other, was more than enough for matt.

the two broke apart at the sound of giggles, turning to find the rest of the group standing behind them.

"what the fuck was that?" chris exclaimed, genuinely shocked that his brother and his best friend were kissing, and seemingly together.

"a kiss, dumbass."

"yeah but is this the first time or?"

"chris you idiot, do you not ever read between the lines? it's obvious they've been together for a while now." nick replied, his tone incredibly dull, like matt and y/n being together was the most obvious thing.

"i love you too, y/n." matt whispered as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his side, and pressing a kiss the side of her head as they walked toward the van.

falling in love with your best friend is never easy, it's complicated and messy and leaves behind a lot of doubt but y/n was worth every bit of complicated, every bit of mess left behind, y/n was worth it all to matt.

and that alone, was enough to put his worries and self doubt at ease. because as long as y/n was there to reassure him that she was his, he knew they'd be okay.

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© 55STURN 2024 ! REBLOGS NOT EXPECTED BUT GREATLY APPRECIATED ! [ you do not have permission to copy or save or share my work to other platforms and devices! ]

[mysecretlittlelibrary]

Prettiest Sight

Pairing: Stucky x Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: really just cockwarming technically, sort of exhibitionism/voyeurism, Bucky has a filthy mouth even in such a casual setting, honestly this isn't much compared to some of my others lol

Genre: fluff and smut

Summary: Steve wants to draw you and Bucky and you plan to let him

***

You stride into your room humming to yourself as you finish a text. When you enter, Steve and Bucky are lounging around, Steve at the desk, and Bucky on the couch watching TV.

"Oh hey guys. I didn't realize you'd be back already." You say.

"We just went on a coffee run." Steve reminds you, tapping your coffee cup with his pencil.

"Well yeah I know but sometimes that shop gets busy." You shrug.

"Where did you get off to princess?" Bucky asks.

"Just had some laundry I thought I'd take care of while you were out. I just sat up there til I could put them into the dryer so I didn't forget." You explain grabbing your coffee from the table and taking a sip.

"Oh okay."

"What ya doin Stevie?" You ask looking over his shoulder where he's hunched over at your desk.

"Just some sketching." He mutters.

"He's been at it most of the morning. Even at the coffee shop, he was doodling away while we were waiting." Bucky tells you.

"Really?" You hum. "Can I see some of them?" You ask.

"They aren't like- great or anything just, trying some things." Steve mutters handing you the sketchbook. You flip through the drawings with wide eyes. Some of them are simple, outlines and such some barely more than shadows, but other pages are much more detailed, vivid depictions of places and things and the occasional person.

"These are impressive Stevie. You shouldn't sell yourself short." You tell him sitting down in Bucky's lap.

"Are these just strangers?" Bucky asks peaking at one of the drawings with an arm wrapped around your waist.

"Yeah- I don't draw people a lot but every once in a while I'll try." Steve shrugs.

"Well you could always draw us if you want the practice." You say with a wink. You're pretty sure he'll never actually take you up on the offer but you're not joking.

"Wanna draw us like one of your French girls Stevie?" Bucky smirks resting his chin on your shoulder.

"Don't tease. I was being serious." You lightly smack Bucky's thigh in reprimand.

"Actually- I did have this one idea." Steve mutters his cheeks tinged pink slightly.

"Really?" Bucky blinks at him.

"You wanna draw us?" Even you're surprised.

"If you guys don't mind."

"Of course we don't. What's the idea?" You ask. Steve doesn't answer immediately, but the tint in his cheeks is spreading in the space left after your question.

"Oh shit he really does want to draw us like Jack's French girls." Bucky laughs.

"Stop it." You roll your eyes. "Is that it Steve?"

"Well kind of. Unfortunately, my recollection isn't great otherwise I would just draw it from memory but- it's just that you always look so beautiful when Buck or I am filling you I thought it'd be a nice moment to immortalize." Steve explains and the revelation sends a shiver down your spine and has your core clenching slightly.

"Oh." You breathe out.

"You- wanna draw us with her sitting on my dick?" Bucky asks and you almost squirm at his words, the imagery now vividly at the forefront of your mind.

"It's a real pretty sight." Steve says.

"I mean I know it is Steve I'm just- surprised. You've never been one for that kind of exhibitionistic interest." Bucky says.

"Whatever man." Steve rolls his eyes. "Y/n? What are you thinking?" He asks you hesitantly.

 "I mean I'm not- against it. You just want me like in Bucky's lap?" You ask.

"Yeah pretty much."

"Well if Bucky's fine with it-"

"You'll never have to convince me to do something that involves you on my dick." Bucky shrugs.

"You are so vulgar." You roll your eyes.

"You had no problem with my vulgarity last night princess." Bucky kisses the back of your neck.

"Down boy." You joke. "Stevie you wanna give this idea of yours a try or what?"

"Now?" He blinks.

"Yeah why not? We're all here and you've got your sketchpad." You shrug. "Just tell us what to do and we can make it happen."

"O- okay, well you'll need to strip." Steve says.

"Risque." Bucky jokes as you climb off of his lap to tug off your shorts and t-shirt.

"You too Bucky." Steve says.

"Can do." Bucky winks at Steve shuffling down his jeans and pulling his shirt over his head.

"Actually- y/n put on one of our shirts that you've highjacked." Steve says.

"Hey you guys leave your clothes in here half the time." You protest but you grab one of Steve's shirts from your drawer anyway. You put it on and walk back over to Bucky on the couch.

"And the other half of the time you just go into our rooms and take things." Bucky says tapping your butt lightly. You stick your tongue out at him in response and he chuckles.

"Anyway, do you need a little warm-up y/n?" Steve asks.

"A warm-up?" You ask.

"Well yeah- you'll be sitting for a little bit, you both need to be somewhat comfortable." Steve says as if it's obvious.

"Oh." It's all you can come up with in response.

"Come here doll, let's get you ready hm, although- I'd bet you're already dripping for us like always." Bucky spins you to face him, a hand wrapping around your thigh, fingers settling incredibly close to your center. Close enough that if he stretched the digits he'd be touching, but where they are now it's just enough for you to be hyperaware of the closeness.

"Now's really not the best time for one of your games Bucky." Steve cautions.

"There's never a bad time for those." Bucky winks. Steve rolls his eyes which only makes Bucky's smirk widen as if he has every intention of riling you both up.

"This is supposed to be about me drawing you two babe, can't do that if you're just gonna make a mess of her til she's begging for both of us." Steve says and you almost want to abandon the drawing in favor of that when he says it.

"Alright I'll be nice." Bucky concedes tapping against your thigh lightly. The action instinctually has your legs spreading enough for him to slip two fingers between your slick folds. "Just like I thought, so wet before anyone even had to touch you. Always so ready for us." Bucky hums as he pumps his fingers in and out of you slowly, stretching you. You can't help the small whimpers and moans that fall from your lips at Bucky's ministrations with both men watching intently. A few minutes of playing your body like a custom instrument have you unsteady on your feet and that's when Bucky withdraws. "I'd say you're ready." He says sliding his fingers into his mouth to lick them clean and the action makes your walls clench. You take a deep breath before speaking again.

"Do you want me facing you Stevie? Or should I be facing Bucky for this?" You ask.

"Face me sweetheart." Steve says. You nod and climb onto Bucky's lap straddling him with your back to Bucky. You take Bucky in your hand and he hisses but he can't dwell on the sweet grip of your fingers because in the next moment, you're sinking down onto him, the molten heat of your core envelops him like the sweetest torture. You take your time settling on top of him, 'unintentionally' grinding further against his erection until his hands squeeze warningly against your hip. "Behave you two. I'm serious about drawing you." Steve warns.

"Of course baby." You smile innocently at him.

"Alright- Bucky get comfortable but your legs need to be spread so I can actually see where you're joined oh and slip your hand into her shirt, cup one of her boobs. And you can put your other hand on her thigh." Steve gives you a series of directions which Bucky follows quickly. "Y/n you can lean back against him." Steve adds and you settle against Bucky's chest, and his head rests on your shoulder. "Good girl. Now you guys can just sit there while I draw."

"Do we gotta be quiet and still or-" Bucky trails.

"I mean as long as you don't move too much it's fine, and you can definitely talk, at least until I'm drawing your faces but I'll let you know when I'm at that point." Steve's already started sketching, his eyes darting from you and Bucky to his sketchpad. Bucky swipes his thumb across the nipple of your breast that's in his hand and you gasp at the sudden stimulation.

"Bucky-" You warn.

"Sorry doll, you're just impossible to resist." He hums pressing a kiss to your neck that makes a shiver run down your spine.

"You're insufferable." You scoff at him.

"You say that but I can feel you squeezing me at my teasing." He says.

"Settle down Bucky." Steve warns him although you doubt Bucky will listen. If you're lucky he'll save the teasing for after the drawing is finished but chances are you'll end up doing way more than sitting on his dick within the hour. Bucky can be quite patient but when it comes to you neither of them is particularly good at managing their insatiability. You'll be seriously surprised if Steve manages to finish his drawing before one or both of them decides this time is better spent forcing orgasms from you.

***

[miguelhugger2099]

Punk!Miguel who’s proud of his tattoos. At least most of them. He has some professionally done and others were stick and pokes from when him and Gabriel were younger.

Punk!Miguel who watches you with a smile when you touch up and down his arm. He hides the shivers down his spine when your perfectly manicured pink and green nails rake across the art decorated on him.

“What’s this one?” You poke at a terrible done smiley face, it was a little blobbed but barely noticeable with the much nicer ones done around it.

“One of the first tries my brother did on me when he was starting out.”

“And you kept it?” You tilt your head with a scrunch of your nose. Miguel laughs.

“Sentimental value.”

You scoff. “No way.”

“Yeah, way.” He takes your hands and pulls you closer, lugging you forward onto his lap where you belonged. Getting yourself comfortable you placed your hands on his chest.

“Are you just gonna have them on your arms?” You ask, tugging down his shirt for a peek at any new ones. Miguel smirks and stops your peeking by tsking and shaking his head—a knowing look on his face.

“Course not but tattoos cost money, babe.”

“You should get one of me.” You pout your lips, crossing your arms that makes you seem snobbish.

“What? Like get one of your face?” He laughs and leans back on his hands.

“No! Like—I dunno! Something sentimental about…me?” You look away, feeling the prickling embarrassment crawling up your neck. “Never mind!”

“Oh, so you want to be on my body, huh?” He teases, taking your hand and sliding it under his tank top to feel his warm stomach, faint dips of abs.

“You know what I mean!” You whine, feeling frozen with him holding your hand in place. He can’t help but find you adorable. Letting go of your hand to come around your waist as he leans up again, one hand coming down to cup your ass. He swallows your squeak with a kiss, unable to stop himself from biting into your sweetness.

Punk!Miguel who—even if he teased you about it—actually adored the idea of having a tattoo of you on him.

Punk!Miguel who thought day and night of what could represent you. Flowers he felt was done often, your name was cute but basic and anything else could very well be mistaken for something else. He wanted something that was obviously you.

Punk!Miguel who was rearranging his room again, bustling through various boxes for some spring cleaning.

Punk!Miguel who found his box of memories from when you two first began dating. It had been filled with all your gifts and letters you’d given him—every last piece saved securely in the corner of his room.

He smiles as he opens the box up again. Some pieces of papers falling out and the little broken keychain you got to match with him until it snapped when he accidentally sat on it.

He sits at his desk, flipping through the pages and tiny plushies you’ve given him. His heart swelling at the swirls in your writing with blue ink—the bunny pen you always wrote with.

The smile on his face continues as he reads through your words of love for him—words that you often found too difficult to say. He slams his forehead on the desk, blush coating his cheeks and ears while he groans loudly.

Each letter you’d given him ended with a print of your kiss mark at the very bottom. Some of it was a matte red, others was a faint glitter stain, but most of it was a soft pinkish color. The kind that was glossy and gave you just enough color that it looked tinted and natural.

His finger grazes the mark, an idea popping in his head.

Punk!Miguel who goes to a tattoo shop he was very well acquainted with, with an artist he knew extra well.

He slams his arm on the counter where a man was behind it, sucking on a lollipop and doodling in his sketchbook. The guy raises an annoyed brow.

“Do you have any space open for a walk-in client?” Miguel asks with a smirk.

“I don’t have space for annoying ones.” He sighs and puts his drawing pad away.

“I have money this time, Gabri. Plus, family discount.”

Punk!Miguel who is both afraid and excited to show you what he’s done to himself. He feels his heart hammering while he preps himself to show you. He’d done the aftercare as precisely as possible, taking extra care of it because this was no ordinary tattoo.

Punk!Miguel that lets you take off his shirt when he tells you he’s gotten a tattoo of you.

Punk!Miguel who smiles with amusement when you gasp and hit his arm that you were joking before! That tattooing is a permanent thing! He tells you that he knows.

His heart stills when you eyes land on his chest. On his left side, where his heart would be was your kiss mark. Just like the ones you left on the letters you used to give him.

You touch your lips subconsciously, your other set of fingers hovering over his lifted skin. You look up for permission and he nods, brining himself closer.

You marvel at the piece of work that replicated your lips. “Oh, Miguel…” You sigh, blinking back tears.

“Are you getting emotional?”

“No!”

He brings you to his chest in a tight hug, your hand still resting beside your kiss mark now permanently etched on his person—a permanent reminder that he is yours and that he loves you.

[atlasscrumpit]

Hannibal/Will x Reader

He was an addiction, he knew well enough what he did to you and he enjoyed every second of it.

Will had warned you over and over, but it was too late, you were trapped in Hannibal's web of obsession and sickly desires.

Will sat across from Hannibal, staring him down.

"I don't know what your plan is here, but it shouldn't involve Y/N. She is young and naive." Will grumbled making Hannibal chuckle softly.

"She's lonely and vulnerable, I merely want to take care of her." He responded making Will scoff and roll his eyes.

"You enjoy that she is naive and relies on you, until one day you'll shatter her heart and kill her." He growled, Hannibal tilted his head with a smirk.

"You think I would kill something as beautiful as her? I just wish to sculpt her into the best person she can be. She's a very smart young woman and could be very useful to me." Hannibal replied, Will's eyes darkened as he glared at his 'friend.'

"You're taking advantage of her and you know it." Will warned, his voice low.

"You don't know her like I do, she's fragile... A wilting flower, to anyone else they would just leave her to whither away." Hannibal spoke, his voice smooth with barely any emotion like usual.

"So, you would rather manipulate her then let her live her life?" He asked making Hannibal smile again.

"She wasn't going to make it past college, she was on the edge when I found her, one day away from suicide. Much like you were, Will." Hannibal mocked as Will's jaw tightened.

It wasn't a secret that Hannibal liked to collect broken things.

"Excuse me for trying to save someone from the same fate I suffered." He grumbled as Hannibal stood up and moved towards Will.

He reached down and tilted his chin up.

"Do I sense some jealously, Mr. Graham?" He teased, Will's eyes glaring into his very soul.

"I'm not jealous of her, I'm worried for her." He replied, doing his best to keep his anger in check.

"How sweet..." Hannibal muttered studying Will's face.

They both heard a noise and turned to see you coming around the corner.

"Y/N?" Will questioned, he hadn't been aware you were here.

"Hey, Will... Is everything okay?" You asked glancing at Hannibal as he offered you a soft smile.

"Everything is perfect, my dear. I was just comforting Will after a hard day. Are you all set up in your new room?" Hannibal asked, letting go of Will's face.

Will looked between you and Hannibal in confusion.

"New room?" He questioned as you smiled and sat across from Will.

"Yeah... There was a fire at the dorms, mine has the worst damage so Hannibal offered to let me stay here." You explained as Will glanced at Hannibal.

"A fire... How unfortunate." He grumbled as Hannibal smiled innocently.

"Yes, very unfortunate. But, Y/N is lucky to have us in her life to help her out. Isn't that right, Will?" Hannibal said.

"Very lucky." Will said, a slight scowl on his face as you smiled and sat beside him.

"At least I can spend some more time with you guys... Plus, Hannibal feeds me a lot better then I feed myself. I'll take his cooking over microwave meals any day." You said with a chuckle making Hannibal smile.

"Exactly, you deserve a lot better than some measly microwave meals." He said, mischief in his eyes as he looked at you

Will wanted to scream at you to run while you still could, but he knew it was too late.

After all this is exactly what had been done to him.

--

That night you sat up in bed doing some sketching when your door opened and you saw Will.

"Oh, hey. I didn't think you were still here." You said with a smile as you put your sketchbook down.

"He's lying, Y/N. You're a smart girl, so either you're not as smart as I thought or there's something else going on." Will said as you looked at him and sighed a little.

"I knew... I know he set that fire." You muttered making Will shake his head and sit on the side of your bed.

"Then why are you staying here?" He grumbled and you looked at him and hugged your knees to your chest.

"I've never had someone care about me like he does." You whispered, Will looker at you sadly.

"Y/N, you have to get out while you still can. You know what he is capable of." He said as you sighed.

"Maybe I'm capable all the same..." You replied.

"No, you aren't. Do not go down this path, do you hear me?" He warned as you sighed and rested your head on your knees.

"You know what he did to Abigail. She trusted him and he killed her as if it were nothing. You need to run." He growled as you looked at him again.

"There's a difference between Abigail and I. She hated herself for killing... I embraced it." You said as he looked at you in confusion.

"Y/N, what the hell did you do?" He asked in shock.

"I set the fire. I was also the one who killed my professor and my roommate, and my father, and my two sisters." You replied as he stared at you in shock.

"What?" He muttered as you smiled.

"You're lucky I like you Will, I like you and Hannibal together. You're like the fathers I never had..." Your face darkened.

"Don't fucking ruin this for me, don't ruin my family." You growled, as Will finally the real you behind the innocent girl you had been playing.

"Why not be truthful to Hannibal? Hannibal of all people would be happy to know you're a killer." He said as you smiled, the innocent facade coming back.

"We both know he knows, Hannibal is smart. But, we both like to play the part of the protective daddy and the innocent little girl." You said with a sickly sweet smile.

"Seems your perfect for each other after all."

[portraitsofguilt]

art student! ellie taking slutty polaroids of you !

i was having some thoughts about art student! ellie as i was rolling through what majors the uni i applied for was letting applications in for and this popped into my silly mind.

cw for pornography, vaginal sex, groping, strap-on use, dacryphilia

ellie who has already painted countless portraits of you sitting in the snow, in the sun, laying on the grass, reading, and any other activities you can think of. the same ellie who has sketchbooks full of you as her anatomic reference, paintings, and pencil drawings of you sleeping naked after a night of passion, hidden away in the very bottom of her school bag. but this, this was something else.

“no, no, don’t be shy baby. the camera loves you.”

her hips never stop trusting into you as she lifts up the metal box, her other hand reaching to grope the soft mound as she tries to position the camera at the right angle to take a perfect photo. you looked so cute like this, hands gripping the sheets, your legs wrapped around her waist, back arching the slightest, and eyes closed, head twitching side to side as you were nearing the edge.

you were such a needy thing, fighting her hands as she tried to position you in the prettiest way she could with her cock deep inside your pussy. you writhe so much, she can hardly keep you in your place but she only takes the picture she is going to keep in the inner pocket of her coat when you come. you still for that brief second, back lifting off the bed, the back of your palm coming to cover your eyes when the camera flashes.

but it’s not enough, there is never enough of you in ellie’s eyes and she is relentless as she chases her own high by overstimulating your already worn out walls and bundle of nerves. this once she isn’t paying attention to your needs but rather hers and all she can think of is you, you, you, your body. the way you cry that it’s enough, that you cannot take it no more, slurring your words and your weak hands try to push her off of you is just puts more onto the fire in the pits of her stomach.

ellie discards the camera your side, leaning down to hover over you with her hands gripping the sheets beside your head, keeping herself up and anchored. she takes a few ragged breaths, huffing as she tries to move despite her muscles feeling numb and pulls out of you. sweat drips from her forehead and shoulders, her whole body shining in front of your eyes before she lays next to you.

despite being out of breath, her mind still being clouded by the bliss of her orgasm she coos a few sweet thing into your ear as she covers the both of you up with a blanket, reaching for the printed polaroid from the camera on your side and showing it to you. 

“see? every color, expression, and curve of your body is perfectly embodied in this photo.”

[spiderfunkz]

THE ART OF LOVE

pairings. cho hyun-ju x f!reader

cw. no games au, all fluff, reader is an artist, established relationship, the use of 'y/n' like once.

author's note: hehehe, requests for hyun-ju are still open! please send me some more ideas for her, fluff and headcanons have been doing really well so maybe more of that. and p.s. i write for other squid game characters!! keep in mind to the read the guidelines before sending an ask.

you've always enjoyed art. to be creating intricate pieces that are just so full of love and passion, it's everything you've ever known. you've held it deeply in your heart ever since you were little. it's more than a hobby to you, more than just a form of expression— it had caused such a spark of creativity within you, you were able to create pictures that were straight from the soul.

everything you've ever molded, drew, or painted, they were all so greatly appreciated by your peers and you took pride in it. every single work you've made has held a story you weren't able to say aloud, your portraits spoke the sentences you could've never thought straight.

but you knew the struggles with pursuing an art career. though, you fully believe it'll all be worth it.

however during one rainy night, you were officially rejected from the last exhibition you proposed to. the subway ride back to your apartment was deafening, disappointment lingered in the air, your thoughts suffocated with the stress of the next step you should take.

that's where you first met hyun-ju. she was sitting just right in front of you, her head focused on her boots. you couldn't see her at first, still, you knew she had to be beautiful. her hair is well-kept, bangs neat, she seemed like such a lovely person to be around. your gaze sparked as she tilted her head up, revealing her unreal beauty.

you still had three more stops until yours, so like you always do, you grab your sketchbook to pass the time. you drew, traced lines, perfected the shapes, made sure you got all the right details. you sketched the woman in front of you.

she too had a curious eye on you. you seemed interesting, visually ambitious and passionate. she wondered what you were drawing, she wished she had the courage to speak to you.

she was fooled when you gave the picture of her. your voice was shy, but it held a very warm and welcoming tone, you're friendly, hyun-ju took note.

your stop was coincidentally the same as hyun-ju's, which obviously led to an awkward first conversation. you shared very vague stories of how you started art, you don't want to be vulnerable just yet, that's where your paintings take part.

and that all led to you today.

it was cold, the snow had calmed down a bit since the past weeks. you were sipping onto your last cup of warm hot chocolate. hyun-ju sat close next to you, her head slowly leaning on yours. there was multiple blank canvas' in the corner of the room, it all just came yesterday morning.

"y/n?"

"hm?" you hummed,

"can i ask you a question? or more or so, a request?" hyun-ju asked, you nodded. "could you teach me how to paint? i see you doing it a lot, and i'm very intrigued. you look so professional and i just wonder how you're just so talented.."

you smile, the hot chocolate left a foam mustache on your face. hyun-ju laughs, "please?"

"anything for my muse. come on. i'll teach you."

the rest of your day was spent guiding hyun-ju's hands as she painted the bouquet of flowers placed on a wooden table. it is simple yet a reminder of a memory you two spent. she was a natural. she sat near your lap, your hands held her waist as she began to paint the strokes herself.

"looks beautiful, hyun." your cheek squished hers, you cupped her face like a proud mother. "you think so?" hyun-ju questions, "i know so, when it dries, i'll hang it up in the living room." you place a kiss on her forehead before skipping away in excitement.

[solbaby7]

Make You Feel My Love

pairing: azriel x reader

[ part 2 to Make You Feel Something ]

warnings: sexual tension, possible sexual descriptions, not intended for readers under 18, swearing, best friends who fuck, possible typos

summary: Late nights and dim lights with a Shadowsinger who bares it all when it comes to you.

[part 1 ]

—

Practice makes perfect.

At least that’s what you told yourself every time the sun would set and Azriel came strolling through the doors of your bedchamber. He’s grown rather confident as a muse, such perfect features translating on dozens of pages in your sketchbook and countless canvases with him draped over the throne or laid out in a field of flowers. Two of them were a set, a close enough depiction of the shadowsinger in a spring, water up to his chest and inky hair dripping over his forehead—he looked peaceful, like the world hadn’t yet taken a piece of his soul. Most were divided between the two of you; stolen slices of sunshine and bargained bits of darkness hung proudly on his walls, even the nude one had its own home in his closet. “Where do you want me?”

“On the bed.”

He raises a brow, a smirk growing in the corner of full lips but he obeys. “Skipping right to the fun parts, are we?”

“Not this time,” You state firmly, arms crossing at your chest and putting your foot down. “I have three sketchbooks filled with half-finished pieces because you and that silver tongue of yours.”

“You’ve never complained about it before.” Azriel plops onto your bed face down, arms curling under the same pillow he was burying his face in. “Why don’t we do this in your room more often? I’m sure sitting for hours will be much more bearable with the smell of you surrounding me.”

“We stopped doing that because you kept falling asleep.” You’re not even facing him, bare feet smacking against the hardwood floors as you dragged over a chair and the small side table beside it. The soft blue book you pull out is far more intricate than any of the others he’d seen you use before, a special set of charcoals were pullout and sharpened. Stained fingers smear at the page, giving a rough base to sketch upon and Azriel finds he falls in love with the messy ponytail you pull your hair into each time before you’d started.

Azriel made a little noise, humming into the comfort of your sheets after shrugging off his shorts; no underwear this time. Just endless miles of hard muscles and giant wings that settled into the soft fabric of your duvet. “Even better, I’m quite handsome when I sleep.”

“You snore.”

“That’s a lie.”

“Is it? Shall I ask Rhys to join us? I’m sure he wouldn’t mind poking around in my head to help confirm.”

It was a harmless taunt; one he probably still wouldn’t have laughed at even when you were just friends. But now—this. The late nights and early mornings laughing about nothing, fingers smeared in whatever medium you’d chosen to use that time. Sometimes it would lead to more; feverish mouths molding against one another, your fingers tracing at bare skin while Az’s greedy hands tug off your clothes. Soft promises branded at your flesh each time your bodies connected, shadows in a frenzy, touching the places his hands couldn’t get to but he swallows every moan, every blissed out whimper until he was full off you and the air you breathed.

Other times were softer, two friends bonding over something they didn’t have to share with others. A reprieve from expectations; a place where Azriel bared his body and allowed another to find a beauty in him he had yet to see. “You wouldn’t dare—you’d get too jealous having someone else looking at me the way you do.”

“Maybe, I’ll just think of a different memory; of me before a mirror with my hands between my thighs.”

It’s too easy to push the right buttons; amber irises peering at you over the plush pillow beneath him, wide shoulders tense and body half covered by the sheets. “That’s not funny.”

You’re already sketching the outlines of the bed frame, the mattress and the crinkled pillows. Rough outlines of a figure beginning to form before your very eyes as you continued, fresh linen sheets, a thick duvet that smelled of you bunched low at Azriel’s waist. “I wasn’t laughing.” He shifts in bed, hair messy and gaze darkening when taking you in; giving you time to change your words. “You moved.”

“Take it back.”

“Why?” You poke harder, amused grin plastered on your face. “You jealous?”

To your surprise, Azriel nods; just once but it’s enough to have your stomach doing flips. “I don’t like the thought of someone else seeing you like that—someone that’s not me.”

The movement doesn’t alter the direction of the sketch too much and the way he rests on his side, upper body propped up by one strong arm while the other rested over his stomach and he’s not as awkward with his hands anymore—allowing them to just be. You don’t dare look in his eyes, fearful of the secrets he’d lure out of you and you linger around areas that have already been completed. The strong lines of his waist, the dark trail of hair, the muscles of his abdomen that seems to flex slightly when your stare lasts a beat too long. “That your way of telling me not to be seeing other people?”

“Have you been seeing other people?”

You try to ignore the fire that burns in your belly at the jealously he openly displays and your hand pulls away from the paper, a brow raised in question. “Have you?”

It’s difficult to maintain eye contact under the intensity of such a rich gold and you’re fairly certain he can hear the way your heart thuds in your chest. This was the closest either of you had gotten to verifying what it was you were doing and suddenly the warmth from the fire is entirely too much. A finger hooks under the neckline of your shirt, tugging gently in a motion that Azriel doesn’t miss, tongue darting out to wet his lip. “I think we both know the answer to that.”

True.

It wasn’t like he had the time to juggle another woman between all of his responsibilities and spending every spare second sneaking off into whatever room was empty for a few minutes of skin on skin, mouth to mouth and tongue sliding over tongue. “Maybe, I want to hear you say it.” It comes out a little shy, head tilting to the side to rest against your hand and shadows twist up your ankle, around your calf and over your knees. They stop at your thighs, the cool sensation almost resembling the pressure of hands when they tease at the hem of your sleep shorts. “Az—“

“You have to hear the words?” The shadowsingers voice goes devastatingly low, unbearably taunting; luring you in and daring you to bite. Play with me. His shadows seem to croon, tracing letters in your skin too gentle for you to decipher but the heated stare greedily feasting on your reactions is a big enough clue. “Can you not feel it in how I touch you? How I handle you?” The cool pressure creeps past the silk of your shorts, fleeting touches grazing spots that needed more before they dart off to the next. “Is it not clear when I look at you?”

“Azriel—“ It comes out breathless, bones melting to nothing in the cushions of the couch. “The drawing.”

“Who’s stopping you, sweet thing?” The shadows do the work for him, raising the charcoal back in your grasp while the other extends out your sketchbook. “I’ll keep still while you finish.”

A double meaning in the best case.

No doubt, this was his payback for making him spill his load in your hand like some teenager still learning their bodies.

His shadows are relentless, memorizing every curve and branding their touch in their wake. Focusing is near impossible, hands shaky and breathing choppy when forcing yourself to relax; to continue drawing the tortuously beautiful body before you. Az smirks when you pause, throat bobbing with a swallow when you feel the cool caress graze your chest, teasing over peaked nipples. You can feel him following your every move, every drag of pencil to paper; a few of the lines are less than neat but you can’t find it in you to care when Azriel’s attention on you is so addictive. “Can you feel it now?”

“I’ve always felt it, Az.” There’s such vulnerability laced in your tone, eyes trained on your paper; copying the furrow of his brow, the straight line of his nose, the plush of his mouth. “Just need to hear you say it.”

There’s a brief pause; enough time to sign the page and neatly put your utensils away but instead of tearing the page free like usual, you shut the baby blue book and tie it tight. “I want you,” He confesses when you stand, your back is to him and the words come out so quiet you barely hear it. Your body stills and your soft inhale of breath is encouragement enough for him to keep going. “—as more than just friends.”

A slow glance over your shoulder, book still in your grasp and now you’re definitely sure he can hear your heartbeat—everyone in the whole damn city probably could. “Yeah?”

He nods, a smile creeping in the corner of full lips at the way you’re looking at him and Azriel shifts to make room when you move closer, hands and knees sinking into the mattress when you sit yourself on top of him. “I want to kiss you in front of people,” Warm palms dips under your shirt, strong hands gripping at your sides with the most perfect pressure when explores the shape of you. Az lets a pleased sound rumble in his chest at the way you fall into him, allowing him access to a body he’d laid claim to long before he’d ever even touched you. “And have a cheesy picture of your face hanging up behind me in my office.” A blush fans, soft laughter filling the room but inside your screaming; on top of the world with no plan on how to get down. “Just want you. Only you.”

His hands keep trailing higher, pausing at the curve of your breasts and his pupils go wide when you grind down on him, pulling the shirt clean off and throwing it somewhere behind you. “Then have me, I’m yours. Only yours.”

[estellan0vella]

A Chance Encounter Older Brother Sukuna AU HFBU

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingles with the faint scent of pastries in the bustling café. You sit by the window, the warm sunlight streaming through the glass, casting a soft glow on your sketchbook. With each stroke of your pencil, a new design takes shape, intricate patterns and delicate lines flowing effortlessly from your hand. It's your sanctuary, a place where you lose yourself in the art, forgetting the world around you.

Suddenly, a shadow falls over your sketchbook. You look up to find a man standing there, his pink hair catching the light, his red eyes locked onto your drawings. He's tall, muscular, and covered in tattoos, each one more intricate than the last. He exudes an air of confidence and mystery that makes your heart skip a beat.

"Those are some impressive sketches," he says, his voice deep and smooth. "Do you mind if I take a closer look?"

You nod, feeling a mix of surprise and curiosity. He studies your drawings with a keen eye, his expression thoughtful. After a moment, he pulls out a business card and scribbles something on the back before handing it to you.

"I'm Sukuna," he introduces himself with a charming smile. "I own a tattoo parlour nearby. I'd love to see more of your work. Here's my card, and I've added my personal number. Give me a call if you're interested."

With that, he walks away, leaving you with a fluttering heart and a business card that feels like a golden ticket. You can't help but smile as you slip the card into your pocket, already anticipating the conversation you'll have later with your flatmate.

That night, you and Gojo settle into your usual routine: wine, face masks, and a cheesy movie playing in the background. The soft glow of the TV casts a cozy ambiance in the room as you recount the events of the day. Gojo's eyes widen in disbelief, his face covered in a bright green face mask.

"Wait, wait, wait," he says, sitting up straight and nearly spilling his wine. "You're telling me a drop-dead sexy man gave you his personal number? This is not a drill, Y/N! We need to talk about this."

You laugh, feeling the warmth of the wine and Gojo's infectious excitement. "I know, right? He owns a tattoo parlour and seemed really interested in my sketches. I think I might actually call him."

Gojo's grin widens. "You absolutely should. This is fate, my dear. Sexy tattoo artists don't just walk into your life every day."

You sip your wine, a thoughtful look on your face. "I mean, what if he was just being polite? Maybe he gives his number to a lot of people."

"Y/N," Gojo says, rolling his eyes dramatically. "Men like that do not just hand out their personal numbers. He's interested. And he owns a tattoo parlour? That's like, instant cool points."

"I guess," you reply, unable to keep a smile from forming. "He was really intense, though. Those red eyes... I felt like he could see right through me."

Gojo leans forward, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Tell me more about him. What else did he say?"

"He asked if I worked anywhere and complimented my sketches," you say, replaying the encounter in your mind. "Then he handed me his business card with his number on the back and told me to call him if I was looking for something more."

Gojo gasps theatrically. "Y/N, this is like something out of a romance novel! You have to call him. Imagine all the possibilities. Maybe you'll get an amazing job and a hot boyfriend out of this."

You laugh, shaking your head. "Slow down, Satoru. It's just a phone number. Besides, what if he's not looking for anything serious?"

Gojo waves his hand dismissively. "Please. You won't know until you call him. Worst case, you have a fun fling with a gorgeous guy. Best case, you get a new job and a fantastic relationship. It's a win-win."

"You make it sound so easy," you say, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves. "But what if he's not what I'm expecting? What if he doesn't like me once he gets to know me?"

Gojo places a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "Y/N, you're amazing. If he doesn't see that, then it's his loss. But you owe it to yourself to find out. Take the chance."

You nod, feeling a surge of determination. "You're right. I'll go to the parlour in a few days"

"That's my girl!" Gojo cheers, clinking his glass against yours. "Now, let's focus on this movie and see if the heroine ends up with the handsome prince."

A few days later, you find yourself standing outside Sukuna's tattoo parlour, your heart pounding with a mix of excitement and nerves. The shop is a blend of modern and edgy, with bold artwork adorning the walls and a sleek, inviting atmosphere.

As you step inside, you're greeted by two men lounging near the reception desk. One has long black hair tied back, and the other is muscular with short, spiky hair. They glance up as you enter, their eyes lighting up with curiosity.

"Well, well, well," the long-haired man says with a smirk. "If it isn't the pretty woman from the coffee shop. Sukuna's been talking about you."

The other man chuckles, giving you a once-over. "I'm Geto, and this is Toji. Sukuna's been in a good mood since he met you. I gotta say, we're all curious."

You blush, feeling a bit flustered under their teasing gazes. "I'm Y/N. Sukuna invited me to come by and show him more of my sketches."

Before you can say more, Sukuna emerges from the back room, his eyes lighting up when he sees you. "Y/N, you made it," he says, his tone warm and inviting. "Come on back, I'd love to see what you've brought."

You follow him into his office, the walls lined with more of his impressive artwork. He motions for you to sit, and you spread out your sketchbook, showing him your latest designs. He flips through the pages, his expression thoughtful and appreciative.

"These are incredible," he says, looking up at you with admiration. "Have you ever thought about doing tattoos yourself?"

You hesitate, then shake your head. "I don't think I could. I have epilepsy, and I wouldn't feel comfortable working on someone's skin with the risk of a seizure."

Sukuna's expression softens with understanding. "I get that. But your designs are too good to go unnoticed. How about this – you design the tattoos, and I'll handle the inking? We can call it a collaboration."

You smile, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "That sounds amazing. But are you sure? Mixing business and pleasure can be tricky."

He leans in closer, his eyes locking onto yours. "I'll make an exception to the rule this time. How about we discuss it over drinks?"

You agree, and later that evening, you find yourself in a cozy bar with Sukuna, the atmosphere relaxed and intimate. As you sip your drinks, he tells you about his three-year-old brother, Yuji, and how he became Yuji's legal guardian after their parents died.

"It's been a challenge," he admits, his eyes reflecting both pride and a hint of weariness. "But I wouldn't trade it for anything. Yuji's everything to me."

You share a bit about your own background, mentioning your strained relationship with your wealthy family. He doesn't press for details, respecting your boundaries.

"I want you to have this," you say, handing him a small card. "It's instructions on what to do if I have a seizure. Just in case."

Sukuna takes the card, his expression serious as he reads it. "Thank you for trusting me with this," he says sincerely. "I want to make sure you're safe."

You smile, feeling a connection growing between you. "I've got some stories if you're interested."

His grin returns, and he leans in closer, eager to listen. "I'm all ears."

You take a deep breath, recalling some of the more memorable experiences. "Once I learned what the aura was I used it to my advantage so when I'd feel one coming on I'd freak out my asshole family members by saying some freaky shit before dropping into a seizure"

Sukuna's eyes widen with intrigue and amusement. "Freaky shit, huh? Give me an example."

You laugh, taking a sip of your drink to gather your thoughts. "Okay, so there was this one time at a family dinner. I felt a seizure coming on, and my aunt was going on and on about some new business venture. I interrupted her and said, 'Auntie, the spirits are restless tonight. They demand a sacrifice.' Then I started to convulse and dropped to the floor."

Sukuna bursts out laughing, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "No way! That must have scared the hell out of her."

"It did," you reply, grinning. "She screamed and started throwing holy water at me. It was pure chaos. My parents were mortified especially when other family started recommeding exorcists. My aunt, bless her, she never quite looked at me the same way again."

"I can imagine," Sukuna snorts. 

The night continues with more stories and laughter, the bond between you growing stronger. When it's time to leave, Sukuna insists on walking you back to your apartment.

As you approach your building, you spot Gojo waiting by the entrance, his eyes widening in surprise when he sees you with Sukuna.

"Well, well," Gojo teases, a grin spreading across his face. "Looks like someone had a good night."

You laugh, feeling a bit shy under his scrutiny. "Gojo, this is Sukuna. Sukuna, this is my flatmate, Gojo."

Gojo extends a hand, shaking Sukuna's firmly. "Nice to meet you, Sukuna. I've heard a lot about you."

Sukuna nods, his demeanor friendly but reserved. "Likewise. Take care of her, Gojo."

With that, Sukuna bids you goodnight, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before he turns to leave. You watch him go, a smile playing on your lips.

Inside the apartment, Gojo wastes no time. "Okay, spill. How was it?"

You flop onto the couch, feeling giddy. "It was amazing. He's so kind and understanding. And did I mention how sexy he is?"

Gojo laughs, grabbing his phone. "Let's see this parlour of his. If he's as hot as you say, I need to check out his work."

You both gather around the laptop, pulling up the website for Sukuna's tattoo parlour. The screen fills with images of stunning artwork and a few photos of the team.

Gojo points to one of the pictures, his eyes widening when he spots one of Sukuna's co-workers. "Is that one Geto? I want to lick him like a lollipop."

You burst into laughter, the wine and the excitement of the night making everything feel surreal. "Gojo, you're incorrigible."

He grins, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. "What can I say? I have a weakness for hot guys with tattoos. But seriously, Y/N, I'm happy for you. He seems like a great guy."

You nod, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you. "Yeah, he really is. I think this could be the start of something special."

"So, Y/N," Gojo begins with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, "it's criminal that you didn't go home with Sukuna tonight."

You playfully roll your eyes, knowing where this is headed. "Oh, come on, Gojo. We had a great time together. That's what matters."

He gives you an exaggerated sigh, as if disappointed by your response. "Fine, fine. I'll let it slide this time. But," he adds with a pointed look, "you owe me."

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued. "I owe you? What for?"

Gojo leans in conspiratorially, his grin widening. "You're going to start working at Sukuna's parlour, right? Well, since you'll be seeing that sexy man every day, it's only fair that you set me up with Geto."

You burst into laughter, shaking your head at his audacity. "You're shameless, Gojo. But I'll consider it."

"Consider it?" he exclaims dramatically. "Y/N, my dear friend, this is a matter of utmost importance! Geto needs to know that I'm interested."

"You're impossible," you chuckle, picking up your phone to check the time. "Speaking of which, I should probably text Sukuna and let him know I got home safely."

Gojo perks up immediately, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Ooh, can I help with that?"

You raise an eyebrow suspiciously. "What do you mean?"

He grins devilishly. "Give me your phone. I'll text him for you."

You hesitate for a moment, weighing the risks of letting Gojo loose with your phone. But after a moment's thought, you hand it over with a smirk. "Alright, but no funny business."

Gojo takes the phone eagerly, his fingers flying over the screen as he composes a message. "Don't worry, I'll be on my best behavior."

He taps away for a few seconds before showing you the screen. "There. Sent."

You read the message aloud, your eyes widening in surprise. "It's Gojo. Does Geto like men?"

Gojo grins triumphantly, handing the phone back to you. "Now we wait for Sukuna's response."

"You're unbelievable," you laugh, shaking your head as you put your phone down. "I can't believe you just did that."

As you set your phone down, still chuckling at Gojo's audacity, it suddenly lights up with an incoming call. Your heart skips a beat as you see Sukuna's name flashing on the screen.

"Oh no," you mutter, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. "He's calling."

Gojo raises an eyebrow mischievously. "Well, aren't you going to answer?"

You hesitate for a moment, debating whether to let Gojo handle the situation. But before you can make a move, Gojo snatches up your phone with a grin and answers it before you can stop him.

"Hello, Sukuna," Gojo says casually, leaning back on the couch as if he's answering his own phone. "Yeah, it's me, Gojo. Sorry to disappoint, but Y/N left her phone with me. So, does Geto like men?"

You lunge forward, panic rising in your chest. "Gojo, give me that phone!"

But Gojo dodges your grasp effortlessly, grinning as he keeps his attention on the call. "What? Oh, she's fine. Just a bit annoyed that I'm hijacking her phone. So, about Geto..."

You let out an exasperated groan, trying again to grab the phone from him. "Gojo, seriously! Give it back!"

Gojo laughs, evading your attempts with surprising agility as he continues speaking into the phone. "Yeah, yeah, Y/N's trying to kill me for asking. But hey, inquiring minds want to know."

You dive for the phone once more, nearly toppling over the coffee table in your pursuit. "Gojo, I swear!"

Gojo dances away from you, effortlessly dodging your furious attempts to reclaim your phone. "Hold on, Sukuna. Let me put you on speaker. Y/N's dying to hear the answer."

You freeze, realizing you're caught in Gojo's playful trap. You give up your chase for a moment, glaring at him with mock fury. "Gojo, you're impossible."

He grins mischievously, finally relenting and putting the call on speaker. "Alright, Sukuna. Now that we have an audience, spill the beans. Does Geto like men? I need to know if that criminally sexy hunk of man meat is my future husband"

"For fuck sake," You mutter, taking a big gulp from the wine bottle. 

The room fills with Sukuna's laughter as Gojo's audacious questions ring through the speakerphone. You groan inwardly, burying your face in a nearby cushion as you listen to your friend's shameless interrogation.

Sukuna's amused voice cuts through the air. "Gojo, you're certainly direct. I can't say about Geto's preferences, but I'm sure he'd appreciate the attention."

Gojo, undeterred, continues his playful banter. "Alright, fair enough. Now, on a scale of one to ten, how hot do you think my best friend is?"

You shoot Gojo a death glare, mouthing 'stop it' furiously, but he's too engrossed in his antics to notice. You grab a cushion and hurl it at him with all your might, hitting him square in the face.

"Ow! Hey!" Gojo protests, momentarily distracted from the call. "Okay, okay, I get it. Just asking for a friend."

Sukuna chuckles on the other end of the line. "I'd say she's a solid eleven."

You groan again, your face burning with embarrassment as you snatch the phone from Gojo's hand. "I'm so sorry, Sukuna. He's incorrigible."

"No need to apologize," Sukuna replies. "It's been entertaining, to say the least. But Gojo, you might want to tread carefully with those questions."

Gojo rubs his nose where the cushion hit him, his grin undiminished. "Understood, Sukuna. But one last thing – you don't cry after doing it, right? Because if so, you're not allowed near Y/N. She's been through that before-"

Sukuna's hearty laughter echoes through the speakerphone again as Gojo's teasing provokes another exasperated response from you. You grab your sketchbook from the coffee table and fling it at Gojo with all your might. The sketchbook sails through the air, narrowly missing Gojo's head as he ducks, still chuckling.

Before Gojo can finish his sentence, you launch yourself at him with a primal yell, tackling him to the ground. He lets out a surprised grunt as the two of you crash onto the floor, cushions and blankets flying everywhere.

"Gojo, shut up!" you yell, wrestling to pin him down while he continues to laugh uproariously.

You manage to wrest the phone from Gojo's grasp and, without missing a beat, dash toward your bedroom. "Sorry, Sukuna! Give me a second!" you call out, sprinting down the hallway. Gojo's laughter follows you as you slam your door shut and lock it, leaning against it for a moment to catch your breath.

"Finally," you mutter, bringing the phone to your ear. "Sorry about that, Sukuna. Gojo can be a bit... much."

Sukuna's laughter is still present in his voice. "No worries, Y/N. It was entertaining. You have quite the energetic friend."

"That's one way to put it," you sigh, feeling a mix of exasperation and fondness. "So, about what Gojo said..."

"Don't worry, I'm not a crier," Sukuna says and you breathe a sigh of relief.

"Thank God," You say.

"I'm curious to know about the crier," Sukuna's voice has a teasing lilt to it. 

"I'll tell you!" Gojo calls through the door. "Her ex would cry almost every time they-"

"Gojo, I will take the kitchen knife and-" you start to threaten, your voice carrying a mix of genuine frustration and playful menace.

Gojo's voice interrupts you through the door. "And do what? Cut my precious hair? You wouldn't dare!"

"No, I have some garden shears reserved for your hair!" you call back, your tone dripping with mock menace. "Rusty and blunt."

Gojo's laughter booms through the door. "You wouldn't dare. My hair is a work of art!"

"It's a work of something, that's for sure," you retort, a grin spreading across your face despite yourself.

Behind the door, you hear Gojo's exaggerated gasp. "I am hurt, Y/N. Deeply hurt. I thought we were friends."

"We are," you chuckle, shaking your head. "But seriously, stop eavesdropping."

Gojo's voice turns playful again. "Fine, fine. I'll leave you and Sukuna to your romantic phone call in peace. But remember, if you need any tips on handling a tattooed bad boy, I'm your man."

You roll your eyes, the amusement clear in your voice. "Thanks, Gojo. I'll keep that in mind."

Once you're sure Gojo has retreated, you settle back against your bedroom door with a sigh, bringing the phone back to your ear. "Sorry about that, Sukuna."

Sukuna's warm chuckle fills your ear. "No need to apologize. Your friend seems... colorful."

"That's one way to describe him," you agree, feeling a smile tug at your lips. "So, what were you saying before we were interrupted?"

"I was wondering if you'd like to come to the parlour again," Sukuna says, his voice taking on a slightly more serious tone. "But this time, it's closed, and I thought we could have a different kind of date."

Your curiosity piques. "A different kind of date?"

"Yeah," Sukuna continues, his tone gentle yet filled with anticipation. "I have some fake skin for tattoo practice. I thought maybe you could bring your sketches, and I could show you some basics. If you're interested, of course."

The idea sends a thrill through you. "That sounds amazing, Sukuna. I'd love to learn more about tattooing from you."

"Great," Sukuna replies, his voice warm with approval. "How about tomorrow evening? I'll set everything up, and we can take our time."

You feel a rush of excitement at the thought of spending more time with Sukuna and delving into his world of tattoo artistry. "Tomorrow evening sounds perfect. I can't wait."

"Me neither," Sukuna says softly. "I'll text you the details. Until then, Y/N."

"Until then, Sukuna," you reply, feeling butterflies flutter in your stomach as you hang up the phone.

As you hang up with Sukuna, Gojo bursts back into your room with his usual dramatic flair. "So, spill the tea! What did Sukuna say? When's the next hot date?"

You chuckle at his enthusiasm, shaking your head at his antics. "Tomorrow evening. We're going to the parlour after hours."

Gojo's eyes widen in mock surprise. "Ooh, after hours? That's scandalous. Are you sure you're ready for that level of intimacy?"

Rolling your eyes, you play along with his teasing. "It's not like that, Gojo. We're just going to practice tattooing on fake skin."

Gojo raises an eyebrow suggestively. "Sure, sure. Tattooing. I get it. Wink wink."

You laugh, swatting at him playfully. "Stop it, you perv."

Ignoring your protest, Gojo flops down on your bed dramatically. "Seriously though, I'm happy for you. Sukuna seems like a good guy. And hot, let's not forget hot."

"You're not wrong," you admit with a grin, unable to deny Sukuna's attractiveness.

"And what about Geto?" Gojo prompts eagerly, propping himself up on his elbows. "When are you setting me up with him? You promised!"

You shake your head, amused by his persistence. "I'll see what I can do, Gojo. But don't get your hopes up too high."

"I'm counting on you, Y/N," Gojo says dramatically, clutching his heart as if wounded. "My future happiness depends on this."

"Your future happiness depends on many things, but sure, I'll add 'Geto matchmaker' to my list," you reply, teasing him gently.

Gojo grins, rolling onto his back and staring up at the ceiling. "You know I trust you with my love life, Y/N. You've got impeccable taste."

"That's debatable," you quip back, enjoying the banter with your friend.

He sits up suddenly, his expression turning serious for a moment. "But seriously, Y/N. I'm glad you're hitting it off with Sukuna. You deserve someone who appreciates your sketches and makes you laugh."

Your heart warms at his sincerity. "Thanks, Gojo. That means a lot."

"Anytime," Gojo says with a grin, returning to his usual playful demeanour. "Now, back to Sukuna and Geto. Double date soon, perhaps?"

You laugh, shaking your head at his relentless matchmaking efforts. "Let's see how tomorrow goes first, okay?"

"Fair enough," Gojo concedes with a shrug. "But just remember, I'm counting on you."

"I won't forget," you assure him, already looking forward to the next chapter with Sukuna and whatever adventures (and matchmaking schemes) Gojo might drag you into next.

taglist - @sad-darksoul @thejujvtsupost @kyo-kyo1

[peachiejeongin]

ink and thorns part 2 | hyunjin

part 1

synopsis: hwang hyunjin is the tattoo artist you cannot stand for the life of you, always acting so smug, so horrendous, and always attempting to flirt with you. you hate him, but what happens when you end up in his arms after a traumatic night?

pairing: tattoo artist!hyunjin x fem!reader

genre: enemies to lovers, angst, smut, fluff

warnings: mature & sexually explicit content (18+ recommended), lower case letters intended, swearing, pet names (sweetheart, princess, etc.), mentions of anxiety, cheating (not hyunjin or reader), mentions of losing a parent

nsfw warnings: dom!hyunjin, sub!reader, making out, marking, oral (f!receiving), fingering, praise, light degradation, begging, unprotective penetrative sex (do not), creampie, aftercare

wc: 15.4k

notice: hello, my darlings! tumblr hates me, so here is part 2 of ink and thorns! make sure to check out part 1 before reading this one, and enjoy the longest story i have ever written :,)

divider by: @cafekitsune

it had been three days since the kiss. three days since you had started to replay the moment over and over in your head like a song you could not escape.

the feel of hyunjin's lips against yours, the way his hand cupped the back of your neck, the way he was so gentle yet purposeful in his actions—it all lingered in your mind, no matter how hard you tried to rid yourself of the thoughts. 

you had ignored the text he had sent you the night after, heart hammering as you read the words:

fuckass: 'come to the shop after close. we need to talk about what happened.'

the message sat unanswered in your notifications for days on end, just staring back at you like a challenge. every time you thought about replying, doubt crept in, whispering all the reasons as to why you should not answer. you told yourself you had made the right choice in pulling away from him, that it was a mistake, a moment of weakness per se. letting go was the only way to protect yourself from getting hurt again.

right?

but then there were the nights when the memory of his eyes, soft and full of something you were terrified to admit, kept you awake. during the daytime, you sat hazed at work, unable to stop wondering about him—how he was doing, if he missed you, and most importantly, if he was thinking about the kiss just like you were.

the weight of uncertainty fell upon your shoulders, and it pushed you to the point where you found yourself standing outside of prism ink well after the moon had settled into the sky. the feeling had been eating away at you, gnawing at your gut.

you had to do something about it.

the lights were still on, though the neon sign perched on the corner of the indoor window seal flickered 'closed' in bright red letters. through the glass, you could see hyunjin bent over his sketchbook at the counter, his head resting in his hand. suddenly, the memories flooded over you once more, and doubt reached your limbs as you reached for the door handle. part of you wanted to turn around, to leave before he noticed anyone was there; however, the other part, which had brought you here in the first place, won out.

you pushed the door open, the soft jingle of the bell breaking through the quiet; you were surprised it was unlocked to begin with. hyunjin's head snapped up, surprise flashing across his face before it shifted into unreadability.

"y/n?" he called quietly, setting down his pencil. “what are you doing here?”

"i...i saw the light on." you hovered by the door, unsure of whether or not to approach him. he nodded, his gaze steady as he gestured towards the leather chair at his station.

"come sit. please. i want to talk to you."

you swallowed hard, feeling reluctant but obeying nevertheless. you crossed the room and sank into the chair. hyunjin did not move right away, watching you with an intensity that made your skin prickle.

"where have you been?" he asked finally; his voice was low, deeper than usual, but nowhere near accusing. "why didn't you text back?"

"i didn't know what to say." you looked down fidgeting with the hem of your sleeve.

"i wish you would have said something." hyunjin sighed, running a hand through his buzzed follicles of blonde hair.

"what would it have changed?" you questioned, your voice more frustrated than you intended.

"everything," he retorted, leaning forward. "or maybe nothing. i don't know, but at least i wouldn't be sitting here wondering how you really felt about the other night."

you flinched at the honesty in his words, your throat tightening.

"i don't know, hyunjin," you admitted, your voice barely rising above a whisper. "i don't know what i feel."

hyunjin watched you for a moment, his expression undeterminable. then he stood, crossing the room to sit on the edge of the counter in front of you.

"i understand," he said softly. "if i’m being completely honest, i don’t know how i feel either, but it doesn’t mean i don’t want to…navigate, i guess, these feelings. together."

you looked up at him, your heart pounding through your ribcage.

"why?"

"why what?"

"why do you want to? and why do you care so much?"

"because that night," hyunjin began, “that kiss awakened something in me.” hyunjin's lips curved into a faint smirk, but his eyes stayed serious. his words knocked the air out of your lungs, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at him.

“don’t-”

“don’t what? call it what it is? we can’t keep pretending like it didn’t happen, y/n. whether you want to admit it or not, we kissed. we fucking kissed. and like i said, we need to talk about it. we need to talk about us.”

"us? what us are you referring to exactly? you barely know me." you mirrored his words from the ramen restaurant, trembling as you spoke.

"maybe i don't," he replied, "but i know i want to."

the sincerity in his voice made your chest ache, but your mind began to wander to other subjects at hand. you looked at hyunjin, diverging from the matter at hand.

"why are you even here, hyunjin? like, at the studio after close? it doesn’t make sense.” 

hyunjin hesitated at the question, his gaze dropping to the floor. "i…i’ve been staying late every night. i was hoping there was some chance you would see my text and show up, and well, here we are."

hyunjin ended the confession with a dry laugh, but the vulnerability in his admission sent a wave of warmth and guilt crashing over you.

"i’m sorry,” you finally apologized after a few moments of silence. “i didn't mean to hurt you," you told him, your fingers twisting together in your lap.

"i know," he responded, looking at you once more. "but you did, because you matter to me, whether you want to accept that or not." the weight of his words settled over you, and for the first time, you allowed yourself to believe them. to believe him.

believing him, however, was fucking scary.

"i don't know how to do this," you confessed, your manner cracking as you felt a deep pit rest in your gut. "i don't know if i can let somebody care about me on that level after…what happened last time. i don't want to get hurt again."

for the first time that night, hyunjin approached you, crouching in front of you so that you were eye level.

"let's get a couple things out of the way," he said gently. "first, i have absolutely no intention of hurting you. i'm not your ex, and i don't want to be. second, i can show you how to be loved. properly. we don't have to rush into things. we can take it one step at a time. no pressure, no expectations, no secrets. just me and you." 

tears stung your eyes, but you blinked them away, nodding slowly at his words. hyunjin reached for your hand, his touch warm and steady. his fingers intertwined with yours, his thumb brushing softly over your knuckles. the warmth of his touch sent a shiver down your spine, and you could not help but notice the closeness of his actions.

the air between you felt charged, heavy with an energy that neither of you dared to acknowledge aloud. his eyes scanned yours, flicking down to your lips and back again, as thought he was weighing a decision.

"can i," he started, almost whispering. "can i kiss you again?"

you did not answer with words; instead, you leaned in, closing the distance. the moment your lips met, it was as if the world melted away. the kiss was not like the first one. it was not hesitant, unsure, or slow; it was urgent, almost desperate, as if both of you had been waiting for this since the first time your lips had locked together.

hyunjin's free hand cupped your jaw, his thumb tracing the edge of your cheek as he deepened the kiss. you tilted your head, allowing him to press closer, his breath warm against your skin. your hands found their way to his shoulders, the firm muscle beneath the hoodie he was wearing grounding you as you let yourself fall into the moment. his touch was careful, but there was a hunger beneath it that made your pulse race.

when his lips left yours to trail along your jaw, you gasped softly, your fingers gripping the fabric of his hoodie tightly. he chuckled against your skin, the sound low and satisfied, before moving to press a kiss just below your ear.

"hyun," you breathed, your voice barely audible.

"hmm?" he hummed, his lips ghosting over the upper region of your neck, just underneath your earlobe. "words, princess."

you did not know what you were going to say, but the way his hands slid to your waist, pulling you closer, made words impossible either way. the chair beneath you creaked slightly as you shifted, and hyunjin froze for a moment, his forehead resting against your shoulder as he let out a soft giggle.

"not here," he murmured, his voice thick with amusement.

"excuse me?" you asked, your voice dazed as you tried to process the sudden halt. hyunjin pulled back just enough to look at you, his lips curving into a teasing smile.

"i don't want to have to clean up the chair," he said, his tone light but his eyes still heavy with lingering heat. "plus, it's kind of weird tattooing other clients on a chair where you've fucked your girl." the comment snapped you out of your haze, and you swatted at his chest, your cheeks burning.

"first of all, you're unbelievable," you began, your cheeks burning with lingering anticipation. "second of all, your girl?"

"firstly," he started, mirroring your words, "you're the one who showed up after hours."

"you're the one who kissed me!"

"and you kissed me back," he replied smugly, pressing his pointer finger to your nose briefly to accentuate his words, "which leads me to point numero dos: friends don't make out in a tattoo parlor after hours. so, yes. my girl."

you could not argue with either of his points, so you just glared at him, though the corner of your mouth betrayed you by twitching upwards. hyunjin's expression softened, the teasing glint in his eyes giving way to something more tender.

"i'm serious, though," he reaffirmed. "i don't want to rush you or this…interesting little relationship we have."

you studied him, your chest tightening at his sincerity.

"me neither." he leaned in to press a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead.

"good."

the days following that night felt different; the air between you and hyunjin had blossomed into an unexpected relationship; once the man you scrunched your nose in disgust at, hyunjin had morphed into the person you craved to be around. a subtle but growing trust had formed that made everything seem lighter.

you found yourself visiting the shop more often, lingering over the sketches hyunjin worked on, sometimes just talking and sometimes sitting in comfortable silence. you also began visiting each other more, whether it was just for a quick coffee run or an entire movie night together; spending time with him just felt right. over time, you had felt a certain fondness bloom in your heart for him; he was a beautiful person, inside and out, and you felt as if you could truly trust him.

which, in your mind, was absolutely terrifying.

one afternoon, you were sitting across from hyunjin at his work-desk, watching as he sketched; his pencil moved fluidly over the paper, his talent always surprising you. he did not have a client at the time, nor did he have one scheduled for a while, but he was still intensely absorbed into his work, almost seeming unreachable due to his concentration.

"i've been thinking," you said suddenly, breaking the silence.

"about what, sweetheart?" he paused, looking up from his paper with his eyebrows raised, his pencil still firmly placed upon the sketch.

"i want you to design my next tattoo."

he tilted his head slightly, his gaze studying you as if you were joking.

"okay..." he glanced at the designs pinned to the wall behind him, then back at you. "whatcha got in mind?" you hesitated to answer, the pressure of your decision pressing on your chest.

"i want something full," you explained. "another floral piece. a sleeve, to be more specific."

hyunjin's eyes lit up at the challenge, but he did not speak right away, as though he was contemplating your request.

"i want you to have full creative freedom," you continued, your voice sure of what you wanted. "i want you to design something you think would fit me."

hyunjin studied you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. then, he smiled, a genuine, heartfelt smile that made your chest tighten with undeniable love.

"i won't disappoint you then, princess," he replied, his tone steady.

"good," you remarked, feeling a strange weight lift off of your shoulders. "take your time. i want to be sure about it." hyunjin nodded, his fingers drumming against the side of his desk as he processed your words. then, with a small grin, he responded.

"i've got an idea already. i'll start working on it tonight. trust me."

in a matter of a week or so, hyunjin sent over the final sketch. when you opened the message, you could not help but gasp. 

the design was absolutely breathtaking. flowers of every kind, from roses to peonies and, of course, a daisy as the centerpiece, wrapped around the sketch paper in a fluid, graceful swirl. the shading was delicate, the lines bold yet soft, with each bloom seeming to tell its own story.

"you really did it," you whispered, your fingers tracing the image on your screen.

fuckass<3: 'you like it?" you: 'i love it."

you took a few moments before typing out another message to him.

you: 'come over so we can talk about it?'

the reply came faster than expected.

fuckass<3: 'be there in half an hour, sweetheart.'

you smiled at the response, a small sense of relief flooding through you. the next thirty minutes passed in a blur of excitement until you heard a soft knock at your door. you opened it to find hyunjin standing there, a familiar, small smile on his face.

"hey," he greeted, stepping inside. "i know i’m a little late. i’m honestly surprised you didn’t text me when the clock hit thirty-one minutes."

"didn't think much of it," you replied, giggling nervously. "didn't wanna bother you if you were still at work either."

"bother me?" he scoffed, rolling his eyes as he kicked off his shoes. "you? never."

you chuckled at the comment, and how his tone was somehow both sarcastic and genuine, as you led him to the living room, where you had cleared a spot on the coffee table for the sketch he had sent. the piece was printed out now, laid flat and looking more impressive than it did on your phone.

"i want to make sure this is exactly what i want," you admitted, sitting down on the couch, your eyes fixated on the paper. "i absolutely love it, don't get me wrong. i just know i'm asking for a lot, and that there's a lot of meaning behind getting an entire sleeve. i just want to be sure i'm not getting it for the sake of getting it."

hyunjin sat down next to you, his gaze moving from the tattoo to you. his expression softened, the teasing edge gone and replaced with understanding. he rested a gentle hand on your thigh, looking at you as he spoke.

"you don't have to get it, y'know," he responded firmly yet reassuringly. "i won't be offended. plus, i can always change it if you want me to."

"no," you shook your head, feeling the moment settle into your gut. "i do want it. it's just..."

"just what?" he prompted, his voice soothing as he moved his hand from your thigh to your upper back.

"i trust you a lot with this," you stated, your voice dropping to a whisper, "and doing so is…well, it’s kind of a big deal for me."

hyunjin did not say anything at first. he just let the silence sit, absorbing your words before his free hand found its way to yours. his fingers brushed against yours, a gentle touch that felt comforting.

"you trust me?" he asked quietly, a shake trembling in his words.

"yes," you responded without hesitation. "i really like you hyunjin...if that wasn't already obvious."

"no, not at all," he teased. "i have girls kiss me after hours in the shop all the time, and they feel absolutely nothing." he ended his sarcasm with a smirk, causing you to roll your eyes.

"this is why i didn't say anything," you sing-songedly replied, looking away from his gaze. "but, yes. i do trust you."

the air suddenly felt thick with unspoken tension. hyunjin turned fully toward you, sneaking a finger under your jaw in order to turn your head back towards him.

"you don't know how much that means to me," he whispered as his lips quivered into a small, knowing smile. without warning, he leaned a little closer, his breath ghosting over your cheek as he leaned into the crook of your neck. "you make me happy, y'know that?"

your heart raced, and your pulse quickened in response to his closeness, his words stirring something intense inside of you.

"i do?" you asked, your voice breathless, betraying the casualness you were trying to maintain.

"absolutely," he quietly murmured. his hand moved, brushing over the back of your neck, his fingers gently threading through your hair. the touch was light, almost tender, but there was a lust behind it that made your breathing hitch.

you glanced up at him, your chest rising and falling with each shaky breath, unsure of where this was leading but not wanting to stop it.

"hyun," you mumbled, almost in the audibility of a whine.

"yes, princess?" he removed his head from your neck and somehow leaned in even closer, his lips just a hair from yours.

"i uh..." you stuttered as you tried to speak, but hyunjin cut you off, finally closing the space in between the two of you as your lips pressed against each other's. his hand moved to cup your jaw as his tongue moved against yours, deliberate, erotic, and entirely unexpected.

your heart skipped a beat when he pushed you down, hovering over you on the couch. he pressed his body into yours by instinct, and you let out the softest of moans at the contact.

"not here," you whined, mirroring his words from just nights ago. "too uncomfortable."

"hmm," hyunjin hummed, his lips parting from yours as his face hovered mere inches away from yours. "show me to your bedroom then, sweetheart."

he swiftly climbed off of you and you snatched his hand in yours, running to the end of the right-side hallway in your home. as soon as you made it in, hyunjin took you in his arms, tossing you carefully backwards onto your comfortable, queen-sized bed. he mounted over top of you once again, his knee slotting in between your legs and pressing right where you needed him, eliciting another soft whimper from your end.

"so needy, sweetheart," he mumbled, his lips dipping down to your neck as he lightly kissed the skin. "barely done anything, and look at ya."

"shut up," you mumbled, becoming shy from the intensity of his stare.

"how about you make me? hm?"

with that, you caught him in another kiss, your hands grasping either side of his face and occasionally running through the blonde stubs of hair on his head.

"lift up your arms for me," he mumbled against your lips. "this shirt's not doing either of us any good." you obliged without hesitation and raised your arms above your head; hyunjin swiftly pulled your black, loosely-fitted t-shirt over your head and threw it somewhere on your bedroom floor, opting to worry about the mess later.

"you are so fucking beautiful, y'know that?" hyunjin did not alott time for a response before delving into the crook of your neck and kissing it lightly. he hummed against the column as he began to suck, bite, and kiss every exposed area of skin he could. it did not take long for him to find the sensitive spot below your ear once more, and he paid close attention to the spot, marking it in a darker shade of purple than the other bruises he had left.

"hyunnie, o-oh my gosh," you moaned out, desperate to have his mouth attached to other, more sensitive areas. he smirked against your neck, seemingly able to read your mind as he started to move lower. he left a light trail of kisses from your now assaulted neck, and down your chest and stomach until he reached your waistline, just above the hem of your jeans.

"you okay with taking this further?" hyunjin questioned, looking up at you with glossy eyes. you nodded desperately in response, and hyunjin made quick work of the button on your jeans, undoing it and the zipper before pulling down your pants and underwear. in true hyunjin fashion, his movements were not swift in the slightest; they were agonizingly slow and teasing, seeming as if he was trying to let his personality shine through in the moment.

you squirmed due to the unhurried movements, trying to wiggle your pants off yourself; this caused hyunjin to let out an amused giggle.

"relax, sweetheart." hyunjin teased. "we have all night." he finally snaked off the garments and threw them on the floor along with your shirt.

"fuck," was all he could say as he took the sight of you in. you were glistening, for lack of a better term; hyunjin's words, his marks, and everything in between that had happened moments prior had already caused a fair amount of arousal to pool in your core. absentmindedly, he ran a cool finger through your folds, coating the tip with your slick and using it to spread the arousal all over your pussy. 

"so wet already," hyunjin breathed out as he continued his tantalizing movements. "need some help with that, princess?"

"please!" you yelped out, desperate for some sort of sensation to ease the throbbing lust. 

your reactions only made hyunjin's ferality grow, and he wasted no time in getting to work on your pleasure. he first snagged the hem of his hoodie, shrugging it off of his shoulders and throwing it aside. he got to work shortly after, focusing first on your clit and alternating between licking and sucking on the sensitive bundle of nerves, allowing his tongue to drag itself a bit lower down your core each time. 

"you taste so sweet," he moaned. "better than i ever imagined you to." at his words, you let out a rough sigh blended between pleasure and relief, instinctively moving a hand up to cover your face from meekness.

"mm-mm," hyunjin hummed against you, gently moving the hiding arm down as he made intense, passionate eye contact with you. "wanna see you when i make you feel good."

hyunjin's vibrations against you sent a course of jolts through your body, causing your moans to pick up in pitch and pace. with the acceleration of your moans came the quickening of hyunjin's movements, as he gained a moderate rhythm to his movements against you. it was not long before a knot began to tighten in your stomach.

as if he knew your body's every signal, hyunjin's lips pulled away from your clit; before you could protest, you felt something chilled prodding at your entrance, causing you to flicker your gaze downwards through your entranced haze.

hyunjin slipped his middle finger through your entrance with ease, pumping the singular digit slowly but thoroughly in and out of you; occasionally, he curled it in order to brush against your g-spot. you watched the tattoos shift on his body as he worked, everything from hearts to flowers to symbols moving in perfect rhythm with his fingers. you felt a string of moans catch in your throat, too nervous to let them go in fear that the neighbors or an unexpected guest would hear.

"don't hold back," hyunjin commanded, never once breaking eye contact with you. "moan for me baby. let me hear those pretty noises."

as if to add emphasis to his demand, hyunjin inserted his ring-finger inside of you; with that, any embarrassment and hesitation caught in your body vanquished. every noise held within you tumbled out of your lips in broken whines, moans, and whimpers. your newfound confidence in your noises made hyunjin's arousal peak, and he quickened his pace, pumping in and out of you in accelerated sync.

"good fucking girl," he praised, moving his thumb up to brush against your clit, both motions feeling inhumanely paced as they synchronized.

"close," you whimpered out, your thighs trembling ever so slightly as the knot in your stomach became too much to bear.

"yeah? you wanna cum?" hyunjin asked in between languid movements of his fingers. "then beg for it."

"h-huh?" the words caught you entirely off guard, and you felt your cheeks heat up at hyunjin's command.

"what? you didn't think your first time with me was going to be easy, did you, sweetheart?" hyunjin sarcastically cooed, slowing his fingers down. "after the way you treated me when you first started coming to me for tats, i think i deserve a little vengeance."

"seriously?" you whined. "i thought that was behind us!"

"never assume, princess," his low voice answered, the dominance of it only turning you on further. "now, beg to cum or i'm the only one that gets to feel anything tonight."

you bit your lips in response, closing your eyes tightly from embarrassment.

"please..."

"please what, sweetheart?"

"please let me cum! please, please! i'm sorry for treating you like an ass! please let me cum, hyunnie, please!"

"attagirl. let go, princess."

hyunjin took your pleads as encouragement, swiftening his movements with ever 'please' as his fingers rapidly brushed against your g-spot. moans filled every corner of the room as you finally came undone. your hips stuttered, accidently pressing themselves into hyunjin's face as your fingers held onto hyunjin's shoulders to brace yourself. your arousal covered hyunjin’s fingers as he leisurely removed them, chuckling at the remnants still spilling out of you.

"you did so well for me, pretty," hyunjin breathed out, licking his fingers clean of your slick. "so, so sweet," he groaned as he lavished in the taste. you replied by sitting up, kissing hyunjin with much more hunger than you had previously. his hands found the supple skin of your waist, massaging it lightly as he kissed you.

you moved your hands down his torso, finally having time to drink the sight of him in. he was lean, fit, and toned, each muscle of his glimmering under the soft light in your bedroom. you traced each curve of his body, relishing in the way he shivered under your touch. your fingers sculpted over his abs before reaching the hem of his joggers, hooking under the waistband as you looked at him for approval.

"go for it, princess," hyunjin responded to your doe-gaze; with his help, you shimmied his pants and boxers down, allowing his cock to spring free from its prior entrapment. before you could verbalize your astoundment over his lengthy cock, hyunjin manhandled you into a new position to where he was over top of you once more.

"having fun?" he cheekily asked, eliciting a nervous giggle from you.

"loads," you genuinely replied.

"good," he answered. "now, spread those legs for me so the fun can continue."

you shifted your position to where you were doing just that, wrapping your legs around his middle and giving him just enough access to your entrance. hyunjin smirked, his gaze lustfully piercing as he used his hand to take your jaw in his grip.

"here's what's gonna happen," hyunjin lowly growled. "you're going to keep those pretty eyes on me while i fuck you, and you're going to be as loud as you can. make sense?" you nodded, only feening for his touch.

hyunjin smirked, lining himself up with your entrance and getting verbal confirmation that you were ready before slowly pushing himself inside of you. the stretch you felt was delicious, the pain of it quickly dissipating as you lost yourself in the fullness of the feeling. hyunjin was still for a moment, giving you time to adjust to his size. you gave him the go-ahead, and he slowly began to drag his length out of you before slightly thrusting back in.

"holy shit," hyunjin groaned out, developing a pace to his thrusts. "you're so warm. so tight. feels so good, sweetheart."

a plethora of noises filled the air as hyunjin sped up ever-so-slightly, containing moans, praises, and whimpers as you hazed from the pleasure. you felt tears well up in your eyes both from the intensity and from the sheer ecstasy of the moment.

"awe," hyunjin cooed as he used a finger to trace your jawline. "you're crying over my cock. how adorable."

"s-shut up!" you whimpered, bucking your hips up to meet his.

"as you wish, your majesty."

hyunjin's hips swiftened moreso, and your hips began a rhythm against his. with the quickened pace, it was not long until your second orgasm crept up on you. hyunjin began to stutter in his movements slightly, desperately determined to make you both finish.

"'m close," he repeated several times over, his fingers digging into your shoulders.

"me too," you responded in the tone of a whine. "j-just like that, hyunnie, keep going."

he thrusted faster than he had ever managed to before, his nails leaving slight indents on your upper body as his own climax snuck up on him.

"where do you want me to cum, sweetheart?" he inquired; in response, you wrapped your legs tighter around his waist, pulling him in to signal that you wanted him to finish inside of you. the effort elicited a teasing chuckle from hyunjin as he neared his release.

you came undone first, your second orgasm much more intense than the shockwaves of the first. you rolled your eyes back as you shook against hyunjin's body, creaming all over his length. the sight alone was enough to bring hyunjin to his finish, and he let himself go, releasing his cum inside of you with a loud, guttural groan.

as both of you came down from the high of the moment, hyunjin let himself down slowly, laying on top of you as he let out a sigh of relief.

"you okay?" he asked quietly, wrapping his tattooed arms tightly around your middle.

"mhm," you hummed in the crook of his neck. "felt so good."

your incoherent, dazed mumbling allowed hyunjin to laugh; he retracted from your embrace, slowly pulling out of you as he stood up. he picked you up bridal style, carrying you to the bathroom.

"let's get you cleaned up, pretty girl."

the low hum of the tattoo machine filled the room, its light buzz mingling with the soft rock music playing inside of the parlor. the scent of antiseptic and ink hung in the air, but it was much more familiar than the first time you had stepped through the door.

you sat in hyunjin's chair, the final moments of your floral sleeve session underway. after countless days of endless outlining, shading, and coloring, hyunjin had declared he would be finishing the piece that very day. as such, you had arrived that morning with him as he opened the shop, as he told you it was going to be a long, excruciating session. hours upon hours had passed of slow, methodical work, with each remaining petal, leaf, and vine etched with care and precision. each design symbolized, to you, an act of trust and healing.

the piece sprawled gracefully along your arm, cascading from your shoulder to your wrist like a garden in full bloom. roses, lilies, and the daisy in the center, were carefully placed to symbolize the trials of your life, and furthermore the growth of a new person.

your boyfriend worked in silence, his brows furrowed in concentration, the light catching the sharp line of his jaw. his buzzed hair had grown slightly, softening his look but keeping the familiar intensity of his features. his free hand intertwined with yours, your thumb rubbing over the ink on his knuckles for comfort.

you watched him, a small smile tugging at your lips as you traced the lines of his face with your eyes. it was hard to believe how much the two of you had changed, and how much had changed between you, in such a short time.

"all done," hyunjin finally said, switching off the machine and leaning back to admire both his work and you. he reached for a mirror, angling it just over the tattoo so you could properly look at it. you took a deep breath, holding it up to examine the completed sleeve. the colors were vibrant, each floral design leaping off your skin with intricate detail. "what do you think?"

"it's beautiful," you whispered thickly with emotion. "it's so perfect."

"it's you." hyunjin smiled, his cocky grin replaced with a beam of sincerity. "it's your beauty mixed with everything you've been through. i knew this was going to symbolize you to a tee."

your chest tightened at his words, the genuineness in his voice making your heart swell. you set the mirror down and turned to him, suddenly overwhelmed by the weight of everything he had done for you; not just the tattoo, but the way he had been your rock, supported you, even when you had tried to push him away.

"thank you," you told him, your voice trembling slightly. "for everything."

"you don't have to thank me, sweetheart." hyunjin's gaze softened, and he reached out to softly cup your cheek. "think of this as my way of helping you see what i see: a strong, gorgeous flower that can stand any test of time."

your breath caught at his words, and before you could second-guess yourself, you leaned forward and kissed him. it was steady, sure, and appreciation you could not put into words. hyunjin kissed you back with equal gentleness, his hand cradling your face as he pulled you closer. when you finally pulled back, your foreheads rested against each other, and you could not help but smile.

"y’know, i think i'm falling for you, fuckass," you giggled out.

"i've been falling for you," hyunjin chuckled as he brushed a thumb over your cheek. "you’re mine, and i'm yours. no getting rid of me now."

you laughed, the sound light and carefree, and leaned into him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"i think i can live with that."

“just don’t think that being my girlfriend gets you out of paying.”

“oh, you!” you slapped at hyunjin’s chest, immediately wincing from the ever-present tenderness of your freshly-inked arm.

“mhm,” hyunjin smirked. “that’s what you get for bullying me.”

as you left the tattoo shop that evening, your new tattoo carefully protected after earlier’s wince, you could not help but glance at hyunjin, who was walking beside you with his hand resting on your lower back. the streetlights bathed everything in a golden glow, and for the first time in a long time, you felt hopeful about the future. whatever challenges lay ahead, you knew you had hyunjin by your side as you faced them.

your story was just beginning, and you could not wait to see where it would take you.

Taglist: @velvetmoonlght, @amararosesblog (If you would like to be added to the taglist, please let me know!)

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。EASY — KAVEH.

��� — contents ⋮ fluff, gn! reader, established relationship, slight hints to kaveh’s past (but no details), a word vomit of what i think it is to date kaveh bc he has stolen my whole heart soul and mind :,)

“good morning, sleepy head.” you press a soft kiss to the forehead on your chest, moving messy strands of hair with careful fingers. “we really should get up, you know.”

“no.”

“kaveh.”

“no,” comes his protest. he’s stubborn, doesn’t give in even when you pry the sheets off his bare back, feeling him shiver at the cool air as it meets his skin. and yet, you can’t help but soften your gaze as you stare down at him, cheek pressed against you as he sighs before drifting off again.

kaveh is easy to fall for.

he’s a gentle lover, sensitive and delicate around the corners. you find him in the warmth that coats your skin from the sun every morning, in the honey you taste on your lips when tea is ready on the counter before you leave, in the soft sheets that are always freshly washed and ready to lay on when you come back after a long day.

“we have lots to do—”

he groans, tightens his arms around you stubbornly. “it’s not time to wake up yet,” he huffs, digging his head deeper into you and making you giggle.

“maybe you shouldn’t have stayed up so late doing that project,” you poke the tip of his nose, watching as it crinkles at your touch.

and then you trace the apples of his cheeks, feel the familiar indents of his bones through the soft skin, familiarize yourself with every piece of him. kaveh is easy love, and difficult to forget. he’s the quiet voice tucked into your shoulder at night, the pair of shoes you know not to trip over at the door, the mess of tools that are still assorted in their own way on the table that you dare not touch, the pillow on the left side of the bed because that’s the side he prefers, the random sketches in corners of every paper around your home.

kaveh is easy to love, and you find him in every corner, look for him at every turn.

“i had a stroke of artistic inspiration,” he sniffs petulantly, “you wouldn’t understand.”

“oh, i see,” you nod seriously. he opens an eye, raises a brow unimpressed at your faux seriousness. “then of course, please disregard your sleep and health. all for the sake of inspiration.”

“hmph.” it’s indignant, the sound of defiance he makes, it makes you chuckle as your weave your fingers through his locks and scratch gently at his scalp. “i can sleep just fine if you’re not persistently ringing in my ear about waking up.”

“but i want breakfast,” you pout. “wake up.”

“breakfast can wait.” you feel his nose dig into your neck, and then the soft press of lips against your skin makes you melt against the sheets.

perhaps if it’s kaveh who requests, you’re inclined to relent.

“if you ever say i don’t favor you, i’ll burn your sketchbook,” you mumble. and still, even despite the slight grumble against your shoulder, you can’t help but smile brightly, turning your head and planting a kiss to the side of his head.

“how can you favor me if you interfere with my livelihood,” he mutters bitterly—but there’s really no bite to his words.

it’s endearing, the way he’s devoted to his career. it’s the first thing you learn about kaveh when you meet him one night—you watch in awed amusement as he rambles at the tavern about the lacking interior design in his drunken stupor. and then he’s there the next day too, drinking just as heavily as the night before—it makes you quirk a brow as you sit beside him.

drinking this often is not a good habit, you say to him. he glances at you, blinks a moment before he huffs.

well you would too if you had a roommate like mine, he starts—and you’re sure the entirety of the tavern can hear him as he spills his woes to you without even realizing.

kaveh is hard to miss from then on. you see him at the fresh fruit stands when you walk through the market, at the akademiya requesting (demanding) funding from the acting grand sage, at the fields smiling with the children as they play and he ruffles their hair.

he’s nervous when he asks you on your first date, stumbles over his words and rubs the back of his neck, but his smile is earnest and his eyes are kind. he’s clumsy as he takes you to dinner, trips over his own feet as he scrambles to hold the door open. he’s a few mora short, blushing and mortified as he pats his pockets for more, mumbling how he’s sure he’d had enough when you giggle and complete the bill. he’s talkative through the night, rambles about his job and his projects, tells you details you don’t understand but can’t help but catch every word. he’s a bit shy when you hold his hand as you walk home, coughs a bit too loud to hide the hitched breath in his throat. he’s inexperienced when he leans in to kiss you, missing your lips for the corner of your mouth instead and stuttering over his words as he tries to explain he’s never done this before.

and when he takes a deep breath, cupping your cheeks with both hands and looking at you with conviction like he’s now made his life’s purpose to kiss you properly, you know you love kaveh.

you know you love him—somewhere during the first date. maybe the first meet. definitely the first kiss.

because kaveh is easy to love, even if he doesn’t know it himself.

he’s easy to love through soft kisses under the sheets, easy to love through gleaming eyes and animated hands as he speaks, easy to love through those moments of doubt and festering guilt of the past, easy to love through that innocence that wants to see the world for all that’s good and never for what’s bad.

kaveh is easy to love. so you love him. unconditionally so, from when the sun meets the moon and over again. continuing the cycle, holding him in your arms and pressing your lips to the soft skin of his forehead. and maybe, one day, if you continue to love him as easily as you do, he’ll learn to love himself too, to see the way he deserves the tenderness you show him.

“—and just so you know, inspiration isn’t something you can elect to ignore. some artists go months, if not years without an ounce of—”

“i love you,” you interrupt his rambling, voice soft and breathless and seeping with affection that he’s not felt in so long, he pauses with wide eyes.

it’s not the first time you’ve said it, and it certainly won’t be the last, but it’ll never feel quite like this time.

“yeah,” he says shakily, clutching you tighter, “i love you too.”

and maybe one day, he hopes if he loves you hard enough himself, you’ll know you’re just as easy to love too.

your honor he’s my everything 🥹 please i would steal the moon and stars for him 🥹