#i guess not notebook sketchbook but still

[faggotrodentsyndrome]

[robinsnest2111]

made it out of the archives alive, only minimal brain damage occurred 👍

[hyunsvngs]

𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐤 𝐨𝐧 𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 - hwang hyunjin x gn!afab reader

wc: 5.3k

rating: 18+. MDNI

cw: casual sex w no strings attached, reader is afab but no gender-specific language/pronouns are used, background reader x minho, smut warnings under the cut.

synopsis: it was well established now that you were fucking your way around the frat. you hadn't intended to make hyunjin your next victim, but when you end up alone together, it seems like the perfect opportunity.

a/n: part four of our fratboy series, hot bitch summer!!! i really hope you all enjoy this bc i'm completely in love with our sweet, sensitive, artsy, pervy fratboy hyunjin <3

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

sw: swearing, nude painting and photography, mutual masturbation, cumswapping, casual sex, a little bit of bickering, mentions of male x male sexual activity, very poetic descriptions of many types of genitals, hyunjin is a pervy little boy but still very lovely.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You didn't know if you'd ever seen the frat house this quiet. Even with the red solo cups littering the coffee table, hoodies and shirts strewn over furniture, clear remnants of a recent rager, the place was almost peaceful. That was probably because it was mostly empty, though. Minho and Felix were helping out at the dance studio they frequented, Chan and Changbin were at the gym. Jisung was napping, which contributed to most of the peace and quiet. Jeongin was away visiting family, and you had no idea where Seungmin was - that man remained a mystery.

Hyunjin, however, was lounging on the couch in the lounge, sketchbook in his arms. It appeared that he would be your target for tonight. You leaned on the back of the sofa, looking over the boy's shoulder. "What are you drawing?"

Hyunjin yelped, clutching his sketchpad to his chest. "Jesus, Y/N! You scared the life out of me. I didn’t even know you were here tonight."

You couldn't help but laugh at the absolute terror that had flashed in his eyes when he looked back at you. You really hadn't meant to ambush him - honestly - but it had been entertaining nonetheless. "Sorry, Hyunjin," you apologised, not sounding very sorry at all. You reached over his shoulder and tapped his book. "Can I see?" 

"Um. No." He clutched the notebook closer to his chest. “Not this one.”

You rested your forearms on the back of the couch, leaning next to him. "How come? Are you shy?" 

"I'm not shy." He was looking ahead, but you didn't need to see him. You could hear the eye-roll in his voice. 

"Show me then!" you insisted, prodding his shoulder gently.

"This one is private, okay?"

"Private?" You fake-gasped. "Hyunjin, are you drawing dirty things? Are you a porn artist?"

"What? No!" He squirmed at the accusation.

"You're drawing nasty things, aren't you Hyunjin! It's not hentai, is it? Tentacle porn?" In all honesty, you wouldn't have cared, or judged him at all. But it was funny to play with him.

“Obviously not! I’m not Jisung.”

You snorted at his quip. “Okay, well… are there any drawings I can see?”

He pondered for a moment. “I guess so. You really wanna see?”

“Of course.” You knew Hyunjin was studying fine art, and you were aware that he spent the majority of his time in the makeshift art studio he called a bedroom, but you hadn’t really seen much of his work.

When he led you up there, you immediately understood why he’d want to spend his hours here. It was a cosy respite from the chaos that so regularly consumed the rest of the house. Strings of fairy lights came alive at the touch of a button, casting a warm glow on the space. An easel sat in the corner of the room, and most surfaces were lightly cluttered with various art supplies; notebooks, paintbrushes, pencils, as well as a few completed works. There was a vase of what looked like lavender; you breathed in and the scent confirmed it, sweet and gentle. 

“Take a seat,” Hyunjin murmured, before rifling through a pile of books. He tossed one into your lap as you sat on his bed, although you were a bit more preoccupied with watching him move around the room. He did everything so elegantly, despite his extra-long limbs; it wasn’t hard to tell he was a dancer. He sifted through a box of records, his fingers flipping through them deftly, before setting up a pale blue record player. You turned your attention to the book in your lap.

It seemed to be full of off-handed sketches. They were absolutely gorgeous, but you could tell he’d done them absent-mindedly as he observed the world around him. There was one of Felix and Jisung, cuddling on the couch. A sight you’d seen many times before, you had no doubt it had turned to play-fighting before Hyunjin had even finished his drawing. You flipped the page. A sketch of Changbin curling a weight, his bicep bulging - if Hyunjin had followed the man to the gym just to observe and draw him, you truly understood. You couldn’t help but gasp, as you turned the page once more. You and Minho, standing in the kitchen together, his arms wrapped around you as you beamed. You remembered the moment. He’d been attempting to make lunch, but you’d been rather successful at distracting him.

“Hyunjin, these are so beautiful,” you told him honestly, your heart swelling at the charm with which he captured such everyday moments.

He thanked you, looking a little bashful.

You took a break from flipping through his drawings to survey him for a moment.. He was different when he was sober. Most of the time you'd spent with him, he was near-blackout drunk - utterly white-girl wasted. He was the life of the party, really. Loud, giggly, commanding the attention of everyone in the room. Maybe he was just one of those people who took some time to warm up to someone, you considered. You didn't doubt this, but beyond that… 

He just seemed so gentle. So sensitive, so sweet.

"You're… not the typical fratboy, are you?" 

Hyunjin looked over at you from the other side of the room. His eyes were so round, so innocent-looking. "What do you mean?"

You paused, choosing your words carefully. "You're just so lovely, Hyunjin." He blushed, looking away from you and resuming what he was doing - lighting a candle? - but he didn't speak. "Some of the other boys… great guys, don't get me wrong. But they have such fuckboy energy. Not you, though, Hyunjin. You're so sweet."

"Hmm," he hummed, appearing to think on your words. "I guess so. But…" he trailed off.

"But?" you asked. "I don't believe there's a but. Not with you, Hwang Hyunjin." 

His voice was barely above a whisper, hardly louder than the scratching of his pencil. "I'm still a man, Y/N."

You blinked. "Well, I've noticed that." 

Hyunjin shifted uncomfortably. "I'm just saying… men are all the same. Even if some seem nicer."

You placed the book on his bed, your brow furrowed as you tried to figure out what the fuck he was trying to say. "What are you getting at, Hyunjin?" 

"Don't judge a book by its cover, okay? Let's leave it at that." 

You hummed. "I don't want to leave it at that. I feel like you're hiding something now, and I wanna know what it is." Hyunjin stayed quiet, although you saw his jaw tense, noticed his cheeks redden. "So, if I shouldn't judge a book by its cover… does that mean you're not the sweet, kind, artsy boy I thought you were?"

"Well, no. I am those things. I'm just… other things, too."

“Other things?” you asked. You watched him light another candle. The cogs in your brain turned a mile a minute, trying to read the situation. The fairy lights, the candles, the record turning quietly. It all felt so sensual. He wasn’t trying to set the mood, was he? In all fairness, the boys had been constantly joking about how you were fucking your way around the whole frat. And it wasn’t even really a joke. You decided to test the waters. “Hyunjin, do you mean… you’re a little dirty?”

He paused for a moment. “I suppose so.”

“You’re a horrible pervy man? Who brought me up to his room to have his way with me?”

Hyunjin jumped. “What? No! I brought you up here to hang out. And look at my drawings. I’m not trying to take advantage of you!” 

You partly believed him. You chuckled. “What if I like dirty pervy boys, though?”

“Fine,” Hyunjin mumbled. He picked up the book he had been drawing in downstairs, a plain black, very nondescript sketchpad. He brought it to you, dropping it in your lap before going to the chair by his easel, sitting down and looking away from you. You looked at him expectantly, but soon realised you weren’t going to get anything more from him. 

You shrugged and opened up the book.

Oh. He really was a dirty boy.

You'd never in your life seen such a varied array of vulvas. Drawings, paintings, doodles. Shaved, trimmed, hairy. Innies, outies. Small, button-like clits, more enlarged ones. He didn't seem to discriminate at all - the man was pussy-obsessed. You flipped through a few pages, admiring the pussies like a field of flowers. Hyunjin's non-vagina art was beautiful, but he'd clearly found his calling here. 

“So you are a porn artist?”

Hyunjin glared at you. “It’s not porn,” he said scornfully. “It’s art.”

"But, you must watch a ton of porn? For research?" The air quotes you put around research earned you a scathing gaze.

"I don't watch porn at all," Hyunjin stated with a roll of his eyes. "And ninety-nine percent of the time, when guys say that it's a lie. But I'm the one percent, promise. I mainly use erotic photography, for references. Or paint from memory."

"From memory? You must be some kinda pussy expert." 

"Well, you're a dick expert, from what I've heard," Hyunjin murmured, just a little too loud to be under his breath. 

You couldn't help but cackle. "God, you're a bitch." 

Hyunjin smirked, before reassuring you, "I'm not judging, by the way. By all means, keep going."

"Thank you for giving me your permission, Hyunjin."

"Not what I meant and you know it." 

You shrugged, and returned to flipping through the book. "I like this one," you mumbled. The model's legs were parted, dainty fingers spreading their labia. Stretch marks streaked across their inner thighs, pubic hair wild and untamed. These drawings, they were all so real. It made you wonder what you'd look like, through his eyes. How would he draw your lips, what would your clitoris look like sketched out by his hand? How would he look, as he painted your most intimate area? Would he study you closely? Would he lick his lips in concentration, would he peer at you as he tried to envision how you felt, tasted, smelled? Would he touch himself, later, thinking about what's between your legs?

You decided to cut to the chase. 

"Have you ever had a live model before?"

Hyunjin looked like he was about to combust. He looked at you, mouth agape, and you could tell he was trying to determine whether he'd heard you correctly. "I've… I've never had the opportunity." 

You smiled at him sweetly. You loved the way he made you feel as though you were bestowing a blessed opportunity upon him. You had blown his mind with the mere implication that you might let him see you naked. 

"Do you want a live model?"

He nodded, still looking absolutely bewildered that you'd even offer. You didn't know why he was so surprised - you didn't exactly have a representation as a prude. You had openly fucked three of his friends in the last week, and here he was, utterly mystified by the idea of simply looking at your pussy.

You laughed at him, gently. "C'mon then, artist. Get your easel."

"Right - yeah. Let me just - get everything set up." 

Hyunjin turned, and you saw how hurried his actions were as he rooted through drawers, gathering his supplies. You supposed you'd better get yourself ready, too.

"You don't have to do this, you know," he told you, raking through a box of pencils.

"I want to." God, you really did. The rumours were true; you were, in fact, looking to conquer the entire fraternity. 

Hyunjin picked up his easel from the corner of the room, and finally turned back to you. "Oh. You're… naked."

You looked up at him from the bed, where you perched on the edge with your legs crossed. "Well. You're painting my pussy." 

He looked absolutely lost. "I didn't expect to see your… I didn't know you'd take your shirt off." 

You chuckled. "What am I, Winnie the fucking Pooh? Anyways, I didn't think you'd be so surprised by nudity, given the fact you draw genitals as a hobby." 

Hyunjin merely nodded, before setting the canvas on the easel and spreading numerous pencils and what looked like oil pastels on a small table beside it.

"Hey, Hyunjin. Look at me for a second." He did, hesitantly. "Relax a little, okay? It's all fine." 

He nodded again. "I know." He didn't sound sure. He was clearly nervous, which was understandable. But you wondered what it was, exactly, about the situation that was stressing him. Was he overthinking whether this would lead to sex? He wanted it, you could tell. Surely he knew that you wanted it too? Maybe you'd need to make your intentions clearer.

You sat quietly as Hyunjin worked. He brought a small lamp over, positioning it beside the bed. You watched as he tied his hair into a messy bun at the nape of his neck, gathering a few strands that had escaped and tucking them behind his ears. He was so pretty, even when he wasn't all dolled up.

"Okay," Hyunjin breathed. "Ready when you are." 

"Where do you want me?" you asked, and yet again, he looked ready to explode.

"Anywhere's fine. As long as I can see it - you." He cleared his throat. "As long as you're comfortable. That's the most important thing."

You leaned back on your elbows, and slowly spread your legs. Hyunjin looked upon you, mesmerised. His eyes were sparkling. This was how a man would look at a work of art, Michelangelo's David perhaps. This was how a man would gaze out across Nepal, having reached Everest's peak. This was how a man would look upon a real, honest-to-god miracle, a biblically accurate angel come to deliver the news that he is the messiah. That was how Hwang Hyunjin looked at a pussy. God, he really was a perv.

After minutes of scrutiny, during which you'd never felt so fucking visible, he turned to the easel and began his sketch.

He spoke up again, after a few minutes of working. “I don’t mean to overstep, but…”

“You just spent at least three straight minutes staring directly into my vagina,” you stated. “Say whatever you wanna say.”

“What’s actually going on between you and Minho?”

You wished you knew how to answer that. “I guess it’s hard to explain. We haven’t really discussed anything properly.” You thought for a few moments. “I’m sleeping around, obviously, but at the end of each day, I go back to him. That’s all there is to it, really.” 

He peered over at you, curious. “So, it’s true then?”

You looked back at him. “What?”

“You’re sleeping your way around the frat?”

You shrugged. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“And you’re having fun?”

“Well, obviously. You’re all hot as fuck,” you admitted outright. 

Hyunjin nodded. “I get it. We’re a pretty fun group of guys to fuck. You haven’t fucked Seungmin yet, right?”

You blinked at him. “No. Not yet… to be honest, I don’t know if Seungmin’s even interested.”

Hyunjin waved a hand at you, dismissing your concerns. “Seungmin’s just like that, don’t worry. Anyways, look forward to it - that’ll be a fun one.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. That seemed like a strange thing for a man to say about his friend. Unless… “You sound like you’re speaking from experience, Hyunjin.”

“Duh,” Hyunjin said, as if it was obvious. “You said it yourself, we’re all hot as fuck. Most of us fuck around with each other, from time to time. It’d be a wasted opportunity if we didn’t, really.”

You took a moment to absorb this. You couldn’t believe neither Felix nor Jisung had ever mentioned this to you. Traitorous bastards. They’d been fucking around with their stupid hot friends this whole time, and hadn’t even invited you to watch, or join? They were sick in the head, both of them.

You went quiet, letting Hyunjin sketch. 

There were many beautiful things in this world. Sensual, erotic, carnally beautiful things. The curve of an erection, the tightly-wound curls at its base, heavy hanging balls which almost looked like a heart, when caught in the right position. But this? Hyunjin, leaning over his easel, chewing on his lip as he deliberated over the perfect way to capture you on page. This was something else. This was beauty redefined.

It occured to you that it was impossible to hide anything from him. This took wearing your heart on your sleeve to a new level. He was privy to every one of your desires; he'd see liquid arousal drip from your hole, he'd watch as your clit slowly swelled. And if he took a moment to look away from your pussy (although he was so completely entranced that you didn't know if he'd be capable of it) he may even notice your nipples hardening, your pupils blown out with desire. He'd see just how much you wanted, needed him.

Although, by the looks of it, he was starting to get rather needy himself. His sweatpants were tented, though he was clearly trying to hide it, forearm draped over his crotch. You watched intently, trying to gain as much intel as you could from your obscured view. It looked big - that was about all you could gather.

"Maybe you should just take those off," you chanced. 

Hyunjin looked at you, surprised.

"Your trousers. They look like they're getting a little uncomfortable. And maybe it'd be less weird if we were both naked anyways?" 

Hyunjin put his pencil down, giving you an accusatory look. "You just want to see me naked." 

You grinned brazenly. "Obviously."

Hyunjin laughed. "You are so shameless. Fine, have it your way." 

Satisfied, you watched as he pulled off his shirt. Vast planes of tanned skin revealed themselves to you, and you fought not to drool. He was far from the muscular beast Changbin was, but he was surprisingly toned. Curved biceps, lightly defined abs, sweet little pecs with the loveliest pink nipples. So many places to kiss, lick, suck. And that was before he'd even taken his trousers off. 

He stood, and as he tugged down his trousers, you could've sworn that his dick sprung back up with enough force to knock you out. You kind of wanted it to knock you out. It had a beautiful curve to it, not quite as thick as some that you'd seen recently - your mind flitted back to Changbin and his coke-can cock - but it was still undoubtedly long enough to ruin your pussy. And so fucking pretty. Your eyes scanned him slowly; the tip was the prettiest shade of pink, the long smooth shaft, the perfectly round, clean-shaven balls. He was perfect.

"Enjoying the view?" he asked, snapping you out of your staring. He didn't meet your gaze, but you could tell he wasn't too shy. He knew how beautiful he was, and he was used to people staring. 

You simply smirked at him. "Keep drawing, boy." 

You felt your clit begin to throb - you couldn’t help it. You burned under his gaze each time he looked back at you studiously. You knew what Hyunjin was like, with his art. Although you were both clearly desperate, he would continue drawing for hours, putting off the inevitable pleasure that you both craved, in pursuit of his next masterpiece before he let you both indulge. If you wanted his touch, you would have to intervene.

It took him a surprising amount of time to notice that you were stroking your clit. He was peering at the canvas, eyes narrowed. You could tell he took his craft seriously. It was admirable, but incredibly frustrating when you needed him to just turn his head ever so slightly.

"Oh."

There it was.

"What are you doing?" he asked, looking at you with a blank stare. He looked you in the eyes, rather than in the crotch. 

"Enjoying the view," you repeated, inserting a finger and spreading the wetness across your clit.

Hyunjin turned back to the canvas, apparently unperturbed, but you saw his dick twitch. You had him. You continued to circle your clit gently, letting out a soft moan as you did so.

Hyunjin snickered under his breath. "Screw you," he whispered, his hand wrapping around his length gently. Still, though, he didn't stop drawing. You watched as he stroked himself, torturously slow, head slowly disappearing into his fist before reappearing once more, all the while leaning over the easel.

And you'd thought Minho had been a master of restraint. Hyunjin was different, though. He wasn't hiding how much he needed this. He was perfectly happy to show you his rock hard, leaking cock. More than happy to jerk off languidly before you. But he was also making it clear that he wasn't going to rush into anything. He'd sit there and paint all night, if you let him.

Of course you wouldn't let him. 

"Oh, put the fucking pencil down." 

He met this with less resistance than you expected, and didn't hesitate, even for a moment. "Fine, but I really do want to finish this painting soon." He turned in his seat to face you, fucking into his fist as he watched you.

You shuddered under your own touch, fingers swiping over your bundle of nerves and sending jolts throughout your body. Your pleasure felt so heightened, as you watched the man before you. His hands were gorgeous, veins popping out as he stroked himself, long fingers wrapped around his member. His balls swung gracefully as he did so - how did he do everything with such elegance?

You thought about how he might feel inside you. His dick was so long, you knew he’d hit all the spots you needed him to. You knew he’d be princely and refined, even while fucking you. Even when he reaches his peak, when cum spurts out of that gorgeous pink tip, even if he lost his composure… he’d do it with poise.

You could hardly take it any more. “I need you, Hyunjin.”

“But I’m having so much fun watching,” he said, his voice hoarse - he sounded so fucked out already. 

You groaned. “You’ll have more fun fucking me, and you know it.”

Hyunjin grinned as he shook his head, but showed no resistance. “C’mere, baby,” he murmured, his long, slender fingers gripping you by the hips and dragging you towards the edge of the bed. “You ready for it?”

“More than ready, fuck, please.”

Hyunjin pushed the tip of his dick inside you, ever so slowly. You sighed happily; there was that feeling you craved. Centimetre by centimetre, he entered you deeper, gradually filling you up more and more. Eventually, when his hips ground into yours, when he was fully buried inside you, he let out the sweetest whine you’d ever heard. 

You couldn’t help but grin at the sound. “That feel good, pretty boy?” 

He nodded, eyebrows furrowed as he fixated on the feeling. The slow pace was agonising, the drag of his cock against your g-spot positively electric. He was fucking you as if it was an art form, as if his dick was a paintbrush and you were his canvas. And, fuck, he was a master of his craft.

“Legs up, baby. I need to get deeper.” His voice was low, strained. You did as he instructed, hooking your ankles over his shoulders. “God, that’s good.”

Had anyone ever fucked you this deeply before? You weren’t sure. Although, to be fair, you weren’t certain you knew your own name, at that point. All you could see were stars, and the angel of the man above you. He pulled himself all the way out, until the head of his dick was barely inside you, before plunging back inside, slowly, slowly. Each time, he pressed up against your cervix, and it hurt, but fuck, it felt so good. 

The room was hot, the air heavy. Sweat was dripping from Hyunjin’s forehead and landing on your skin. You were consumed with his scent, lavender and fresh cotton, You were covered in him, you felt his touch on every inch of your body, surrounded by soft moans from both yourself and him.

His hands explored your body as he fucked you. They tasted your thighs, squeezing gently. They caressed your hips, your waist, your hips, your chest. He handled you so gently, treating you with the utmost care. You could picture him so clearly, manoeuvring a delicate statue, arranging flowers in a vase, manipulating clay on a pottery wheel. He treated you with the exact same respect and admiration.

“You’re a fucking masterpiece, babe.” He thrusted hard, but still so slow. “So fucking beautiful.”

Hyunjin looked down to the site where your bodies joined. He was enthralled, eyes fixated on the sight of himself disappearing inside you. 

“Can I - shit -” His hands were shaking slightly, as he caressed your stomach. “Can I get out my camera? Just - fuck - just to take some reference photos. I need to paint you over and over, please-” His words trailed off into a whine.

You nodded. “Of course.” 

He pulled out, and you gasped, feeling a sudden emptiness. 

“Hurry,” you whimpered, as he gathered his equipment. He returned to you, kneeling before you and capturing the sight before him. You felt yourself clenching around nothing, desperate to have him inside you once more. He didn’t leave you waiting too long fortunately, sliding his dick back inside you, snapping more photos as he did so, still moving at that lazy, unhurried tempo. It drove you crazy. It felt amazing, of course. He was hitting all the right places, sending shivers down your spine and spreading butterflies throughout your tummy. But with a dick that perfect, you wanted him to thoroughly destroy you.

“Put your fucking camera away and fuck me properly,” you urged him.

Hyunjin smirked down at you. “Minho wasn’t lying. You really do get bratty and impatient.”

You rolled your eyes. “Fucking rail me before I throw you on this bed and take things into my own hands.”

Hyunjin laughed, shaking his head as he put his camera safely on his desk. “Relax, hon, I’ll fuck you.” He returned to the bed, looming over you with a teasing smile. “Are you sure you’re ready? You sure you can take it?”

“So help me god, Hwang Hyunjin, if you don’t-”

Hyunjin swiftly cut you off, thrusting deep inside you. Your words trailed off into a high-pitched squeak. Sassy as he was, he did as he was told; he fucked you hard, pounding into you powerfully. One of his hands gripped your thigh, holding it close to him, the other tweaking your nipple, sending yet more bliss running through your system. 

“You’re so fucking tight, hon,” Hyunjin rasped. So you’d heard.

“Keep fucking me, Hyunjin - fuck me harder!” You gazed upon his slender frame, tanned skin glistening with sweat. Maybe it was just because he was fucking you so well, but you could’ve sworn he was a real live angel, an almighty being. No person was this beautiful - no human being fucked this well.

“Fuck, I don’t know how long I can last like this,” Hyunjin grunted. He had a dark look in his eye.

“Cum then,” you encouraged him, “Give me your cum, baby.”

He shook his head. “Not until you cum first.” What a gentleman.

His thumb went to your clit, rubbing gentle circles into it, the perfect amount of pressure. It was pushing you over the edge, embarrassingly quickly. You felt your heart rate rise, your skin begin to tingle. Your climax was approaching - you felt it throughout your whole body.

“Hyunjin - Hyunjin!”

“That’s it, baby, let go,” he coaxed you. 

“I’m cumming!” With your announcement, it crashed over you like a wave. It exploded out from your core, white heat shooting through your entire body, coursing through your veins. You distantly heard yourself babbling Hyunjin’s name, although you couldn’t say you were quite lucid enough to be aware of it. All you knew were the fireworks spreading from your pussy, sparks erupting, setting you alight. 

“You’re clenching around me so tight,” Hyunjin whined. “Shit - Y/N!”

He pulled out, gripping his dick at its base, crying out as he painted your pussy, shooting his cum across your folds. You watched intently as the hot white spurts landed on your clit, your lips, dripping down towards your asshole. 

“There we go, baby,” you sighed, catching your breath. 

Hyunjin kneeled before you, also panting with exertion. He leaned in, locking his eyes with yours before licking a gentle stripe across your clit. He hummed. “Tastes good. Wanna taste?” You nodded, wide-eyed. He delved in, licking and sucking, and you moaned at the sensation on your oversensitive parts. He sucked on your clit, swiped his tongue through your folds, spread your cheeks and licked at your asshole. You couldn’t help but squeal.

He stood, leaning over you and gripping your cheeks gently, forcing your mouth open. You stuck out your tongue compliantly, waiting for the salty substance to reach you. He allowed it to dribble from his tongue slowly, landing in your mouth. 

Hyunjin pulled away. “Don’t swallow. Stick out your tongue, let me see.” You complied, and he picked up his camera once more, snapping more shots of you. Your face, this time, rather than your genitals. “Fucking gorgeous,” he whispered.

He put the camera down. “You can swallow now - I know you want to.” He sat on the bed beside you, lounging back, and you cuddled into his side. You watched as he clicked through the photos he’d taken; your dripping wet pussy, his dick teasing your entrance, burying itself inside you. Cum dripping down your clit, decorating you. Your face, eyes hazy, looking beyond fucked-out, tongue coated in the tangy mix of Hyunjin’s cum and spit. 

“We should blow this one up and hang it in the hall,” Hyunjin remarked. 

You snickered weakly, tired as you slumped against the man. “You boys would like that, huh? You’re all obsessed with me.”

“And for good reason. I see what the hype is about.” Hyunjin kissed your forehead softly. It was so tender - this was a no-strings-attached hook-up, nobody was under any illusions here. But it seemed that everything he did, every action he carried out towards anyone, was so filled with love.

“Hype? What do you guys say about me, when I’m not here?”

“That would be telling,” Hyunjin responded slyly. “Let’s just say, you’ve gotten some pretty good reviews.”

You yawned. “That doesn’t surprise me.” 

“Who’s next then, hm?” he asked.

“That would be telling,” you responded with a mocking tone. “I’m tired. You want me to stay here tonight, Hyune?”

“It’s okay, hon. Go crawl into Minho’s bed, he should be home soon.” 

You sat up, kissing Hyunjin’s pretty, plump lips. “Thank you for giving me a good time tonight, Hyunjin.”

He smiled. “Thank you for being my muse.”

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

When Minho returned home to find you curled up in his bed, you were barely awake, but still hanging on to your consciousness.

“Hey there, sleepy.”

“Hey, Minho.”

He paused, looking at you, eyes narrowed. “I know that smile. Who have you been with tonight, then?”

You gave him a smug grin. “Guess.”

“Not Jisung again?” He got into bed beside you, looking amused as he wrapped his arms around your frame. “You haven’t even showered, babe. I can smell Hyunjin on you.”

“You’re so good at this game,” you said, your voice slurred with tiredness.

Minho pulled you closer, kissing your neck from behind and making you sigh contentedly. He pulled you closer, and you felt his length press into you from behind - was he getting hard, thinking about you and his friend together? Was he imagining fucking you, with the scent of Hyunjin’s sweat still marking your skin?

He whispered in your ear, confirming your suspicions. “Are you too tired for another round?” 

You turned around in his arms, eyes twinkling. “Never.”

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

taglist: @moasworld @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @queenofthegardengnomes @boomfrogg @hoeinthehouse @msaddictions @sunnyhonie @hizliyuruyen @jyu037 @jouoy @drhsthl @seungincore @jellylver @veedoesntknaur @meloncremesoda @k-poplv @livieloo914 @fekixfmp @fawnpeaks @minnielvr @imastraykidsfan @hanjisung2023 @hoelynecujoh @kyrviu @sxgeofprohets @everydreams-penumbra @chaneomma @kkissreol @phtogravi @secretjj @princelingperfect @personawthai @dirah-h @straykids5star @luvhyux @chuuswifereal @stg110 @cookiesandmilfx @number1seungminstan @skzswife @starsandrqindrops @poody1608 @cutiespaghetti @hwa-0403 @i8rsie @kpopsstuffs @everyonehatesshani @han8ul @velentine143 @vixensss @cuddlehye @sheeshhhhfelixsworld @angeldhd @comicnerd557 @leeknowfz @imwithurmother @hrtsformin @maknae00 @teaholic @ficrecnctskz @tasteskz-sworld @ilychee08 @thehomotron8000 @romynochill @freckleboilix @yunhorights

[impishjesters]

I have this idea floating around in my brain for a while about a reader who likes to draw and because they have a crush on Jax they draw him. Jax eventually steals their notebook and probably teases them about it lol.

Jax x Crushing!Reader

warning(s): innuendos, bullying/teasing, Jax note(s): Look it's me and Jax, there's gonna be innuendos or some spicy wording and bullying. It's like a packaged deal or something. A/N: If you see me mixing Angel Dust's speech into Jax, no you didn't. If you didn't notice, I don't know how to tease and not be an asshole, so pretty on the brand I guess.

Caine had given you a sketchbook upon request, it was a little different than an actual sketchbook but it did the job regardless. Ever since your arrival, your fingers have been itching to draw, there were so many new sights and so much new inspiration.

There were so many things, so why did it seem like the doodles of Jax ended up on almost every page?

Easy, you had a crush on the apathetic, mischievous jerk named Jax.

Why? Well, now that’s the million-dollar question. He’s not inherently awful, no, that’s a lie, he’s an asshole. You don’t really have a good read on him yet but he’s funny! That’s gotta be redeemable, right? However, his jokes are usually backhanded and often involve being mean at the expense of others.

Okay so he’s a walking red flag but there’s something about him that has you crushing on the purple bastard.

Looking down at the sketchbook on your lap shows another two pages filled with sketches of random things, though most of the page is filled with Jax. You had taken to sketching things back in the real world to remind yourself of home, but eventually, those sketches would involve Jax doing mundane things.

Thing’s like sitting at a table eating real food, though you took creative measures when drawing an open mouth on him, it still looked off but it was serene and domestic. Then there’s the little sketch at the bottom of the page of Jax leaning against a window and staring outside. You’d manage to nab the pose and angle when he was leaning against one of the many random geometrical-shaped things in the main room and later added in a window.

It was embarrassing that almost more than half of the pages in the book involved Jax to some degree. Some pages weren’t even subtle, the whole page taking up a detailed portrait version of the male. Sometimes you even got creative and put him in different clothing.

Thumbing through the pages you saw there weren’t that many empty pages left. You’d need to ask Caine for another one and figure out what to do with this one. It couldn’t be left out in the open, you knew Jax had keys to everyone’s room and wouldn’t put it past him to go snooping. He’d already questioned you about the sketchbook before.

You’d been so focused on the sketchbook that you hadn’t noticed the man of the hour walking up. Jax noticed your intense focus and peeked over to see the infamous sketchbook on your lap, and with practiced ease managed to yoink it right off your lap.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here? You finally showing me what you keep your nose buried into?”

A yelp left you, stumbling to get on your feet you rushed to him and began swatting at the book and of course, he’d keep raising it just out of reach. “You took it! I didn’t say you could look at that!”

“Nah, pretty sure you said I could look at it.” He continued to lower and raise the book as you jumped to grab it. Sure he was curious before, but with a reaction like that? How could he not be even more curious? What kind of seedy shit were you drawing? Or perhaps some spicy nonfamily-friendly content?

Jax ignored your frantic words and opened the book to a random page, he was going to tease you about whatever dumb stuff you drew since you always had your nose in it but all he saw were sketches of himself.

A normal person might get embarrassed and hand the book back, but he’s not a normal person. It’s a little freaky, he won’t lie. A glance downwards shows him you’ve gone silent in front of him, simply staring down while he invades the privacy that was your sketchbook.

Your face is red and you look like you’re going to cry any second.

He’s a jerk, he was going to fuck with you, and he still is, but for the moment he’s taking in all the creative little pieces involving his face. Ya know, he never really thought much about how he’d look in other clothes. Gotta say he looks pretty snazzy in something that isn’t these shitty overalls.

“You know if I didn’t know any better,” his fingers still flip through the pages as he steps closer, circling you. “I’d say you like me.”

“I don’t.”

The reply is rushed and he rolls his eyes at the blatant lie, he’ll humor you this time. “Oh yeah? Does that mean you’ve got sketchbooks for everyone else too? Cause I’m pretty sure this is the only one I’ve seen you with.” He taps a doodle on the cover that gives away it’s the same notebook he always sees you with.

Tears trickled down your cheeks, you knew he was a jerk but this felt like too much. You just wanted your sketchbook back and to run away to your room, maybe pin something in front of the door that would render even the key useless.

His eyes roll the second he sees a tear, he’s not really seeing the problem here. You’ve got a book full of creepy—okay not completely creepy, he’s a good model so good on you for seeing that—sketches of him and he’s truthfully honored. It’s clear that you didn’t do this with everyone, so he’s honored to be your little model. Besides, it’s not like you actually have a crush on him, right?

Minutes tick by of him simply eyeing you, you’re still crying and it’s starting to get a little ugly and snotty, ugh. But you aren’t trying to further deny his little comment about you liking him. He’ll have to have a little talk about that later, what you could possibly see in him because he knows that you aren’t a sadist—oh, are you a masochist? That’d explain a lot.

Jax sighs and closes the book but doesn’t hand it over, simply putting the free hand on his hip. “You know if you wanted to see my face all you gotta do is ask. I’ll gladly show you this handsome face any day toots.”

Of all the things you thought he’d say, that wasn’t it. “H-huh..?” You embarrassingly wipe away the tears and snot before looking up at him.

“You heard me. Ya know I love this face too, very handsome. Maybe we can get Caine to put up some artwork in the tent of yours truly.” Jax wouldn’t consider himself vain, but you did have a way of making him look more, dare he say, attractive.

“I-I don’t… I don’t understand…” Was he still making fun of you?

He rolls his eyes before playfully hitting your head with the book. “Jeez, and here I thought you were smart.” Jax leaned over like he was speaking to a child and pushed the book to your chest. “I’m saying, the next time you wanna draw me I’ll give you a front-row seat. Maybe even take it to the bedroom so we won’t be disturbed.”

You push the book into his face to cover up that growing smirk and blush furiously. “Wh-what?! N-no I-I don’t…!” It’s hard to tell if he’s being serious or not in his offer to model for you, especially with the bedroom comment.

“C’mon, clearly you got taste. I mean that book is filled with sketches of me. I’ll commend you on your immaculate taste.” Jax taps the book before playfully bopping your nose. “At least let me give you the pleasure of seeing me close up. I’ve never been a model before so you might have to get a little hands-on to get me the way you want me.”

As the innuendos continue your face feels like it’s getting impossibly red and warm. Somehow this is worse than him telling you a sketchbook full of his face is creepy, in fact, you’d almost prefer it because your poor little heart can’t take anymore. You let out a yell and it stops his tangent but that stupid smirk of his never disappears.

“Offer still stands. You know where to find me.” Jax turns away but not before throwing a little wink over his shoulder. He still plans on pestering you about what you see in him, but for now, he’ll cut you some slack. You’re about as red as Ragatha’s hair and as much as he loves to see it, he didn’t plan to get this sidetracked when he saw you on your own.

He’s got a sucker to prank.

[siennaditbot]

Sethos x Reader: Sun & Moon

Hehe, look at me actually finishing it lol. Been ages since I've written x Reader stuff but I hope yall like it. Sethos needs more love <3

Female reader but I hope yall can still enjoy it lol :>

Sethos was a people person. He could talk to everyone and make them forget that they hadn't just met him, seamlessly integrating into any group he wished.

He had a good facial memory, so he could strike up a familiar conversation with most of the citizens.

But there was someone in Sumeru City that he had never properly caught for a chat. A humble cleaner girl, who seemed to hate him for some reason.

Whenever he tried to start a casual conversation with her, she focused on anything but him, her body language telling him she did not want to talk. Her replies were curt and he had to try hard to keep the conversation from dying.

He was pushy, yeah, but he knew not to push his luck. She was practically holding a weapon she could smack him with, after all. An everyman’s polearm - a broom.

So, he stopped approaching her. They just coexisted, him passing by her sweeping the streets sometimes, offering a polite wave as he jogged past her.

Then, on one rainy day, Sethos was caught enjoying the shower between his errands. He stood in the middle of the empty street, eyes closed and face lifted skyward as if to hug the rainfall.

But the rain suddenly stopped.

He opened his eyes in surprise and briefly met hers, before she handed her umbrella to him and dashed off. He was left there, staring at her disappearing form and the splatters of water as she ran.

He was confused, but shrugged the absurd encounter off with an amused smile.

“Heh, guess she doesn't hate me, after all. Interesting.”

Sethos loved being in the city. It was full of fascinating people, especially within the Akademiya. He loved learning about them, their stories, ideas and passions.

And now the curt sweeper girl had caught his interest.

He still politely greeted her when he passed by, and her responses were curt as ever, usually simply nodding and letting him pass. But now he read her behavior as shy and awkward instead of hateful.

His polite smile became a bit more genuine when he understood.

He kept noticing her in other places after that, too. She was often found sitting in random spots, holding a notebook she was very focused on, not paying attention to anyone who wondered what her deal was.

Sethos was one of them. He curiously eyed her every time he saw her, but she never lifted her face from her notebook.

One day she was sitting on a box behind Lambad’s Tavern, hand going wild as she worked on the notebook in her lap. Sethos noticed her, and decided to approach her for once.

She jumped when his voice cut through her concentration, having broken into her bubble.

“Soo. What’cha working on there?”

She immediately shut the notebook and looked away, clutching it to her chest.

“Heh, you were really into it. Sorry for spooking you.”

She didn't reply, no idea what to say, so she literally waved it off. He got the message, leaning against the railing next to her.

“You're a funny one, you know. I can never expect where you'll be sitting with that secret tome of yours. I’ve heard people call you a local cryptid because of it.”

That made her snort, and she immediately threw a hand up to cover her mouth.

His smile widened, proud of drawing a new reaction out of her.

“It's true, though. I've seen you on several branches of the Divine Tree, on a roof or two, and I swear I caught you behind a bush once. What's up with that?”

She scratched her cheek shyly, not expecting anyone to pay attention to her.

“...Inspiration”, she finally managed.

“Inspiration, eh? What's so inspiring about sitting behind a bush?”

She chuckled lightly in response.

“I just like switching spots. Different angles.”

"Riight, right, that makes sense. What do you need that inspiration for, then? Writing, drawing, homework?”

She turned the cover of the notebook towards him. It had ‘sketchbook’ written on it in fancy letters.

“Ohhh, an artist, I see. That's cool. You got the whole ‘vibe’ down too, now that I think about it.”

She drew the sketchbook back to herself again, shrugging with a small, amused hum.

“Quiet and mysterious. Who knows what's going on inside those covers”, he explained with a playful grin.

She was still curt, but her small smile gave him confirmation that she definitely didn't hate him.

“I’ll let you continue, then. Can't stop an artist when inspiration hits, after all.”

After seeing her nod and timidly wave at him, he stood back up with a satisfied smile. He waved in response and walked off, arms stretched behind his head as he went to continue on with his day.

From there on, he stopped to bother her for a moment or two whenever and wherever he caught her. She didn't seem willing to talk about art or her secret sketchbook, so he kept the conversation alive, talking about whatever. She was still curt and shy, but her snorts and amused huffs became a more common occurrence as days passed.

One day, after he was done telling one of his stories, she seemed particularly thoughtful.

“What's up? Remind you of something? Oh, oh, did I give you inspiration?” he grinned excitedly, pointing at her.

She took a moment to formulate her reply.

“..How do you always have something to talk about?”

He didn't expect that. She didn't seem annoyed, though..

“Heh, I’ve just seen and heard many interesting things. I like sharing mine, and learning more from the people I meet.”

“That simple?”

He shrugged casually.

“I’m a people person. I like talking and listening.”

Her face formed a strained smile as she looked away.

“My brain always goes blank when there's people around. It's like there's not a single thought in there.”

That seemed to confirm his assumption of her treatment of him before. She was just shy. Or socially anxious.

“Ah. More of an introvert, then?”

“...No, I want to be around people. I just… short circuit. Not very interesting company.”

“I think you're plenty interesting”, he stated matter-of-factly, “you've got me curious.”

That surprised her, and she turned to look in the general direction of his face, but still not meeting his eyes.

“You’re curious? About me?”

“Sure am. There's the sitting in random spots thing, your mystery book, how you're so focused you don't react to people gawking and talking about you right next to you…”

He counted with his fingers, amused but genuine.

“There's obviously a lot going on in there. I’m curious about what sorts of ideas you have. Art isn't exactly the biggest thing around the city, after all.”

She had to take a moment to take in his words.

“It's nothing special, really. Just stories, imaginary situations and encounters.”

“A bit of fantasy added to the ordinary, eh? That's fun. Care to give me an example?”

A bit nosy, maybe, but he was interested.

She looked away for a moment, not sure if she should or whether she even could produce an example for him. He seemed genuinely curious though, so she tried, and inspiration hit when she gazed down at the docks.

“Um, like, a long-awaited reunion happening down there. A tearful embrace…”

She suddenly felt very embarrassed.

“..That's dumb, isn't it? I can-”

“No, no, no, don't worry. I can see it. A bit of a romantic, aren't you?”

She blushed a little, but shrugged with a noncommittal chuckle.

“Comes with the whole art thing, I think.”

“Heh, makes sense. I like it.”

A moment of silence. It was comfortable to him, but she felt the need to fill it.

“U-um, thanks, for, you know, always talking to me.”

He wasn't expecting that, either, and hummed in question, grinning curiously.

“...I like talking to people. It's just..difficult”, she continued, wanting her thanks to reach him properly.

“Well, I’m always down for a chat. I'll keep stopping by to bother you, then?”

“You aren't bothering me. But yeah. I'd like that. Maybe I’ll learn some tips and tricks from the master of social skills”, she joked with a soft smile.

“Sounds like a plan.”

And so they continued their occasional chats. He often ended up stopping people to talk with them, anyway, but it was nice to have confirmation that he actually wasn't bothering her.

His company gradually helped her relax and learn to imitate some of his social techniques, like asking questions and using more open body language.

Eye contact was still an issue for her, though. And to Sethos’ surprise, it bugged him a little.

He was straightforward and social, so eye contact came naturally to him. Not everyone he talked with looked back into his, so he knew it wasn't easy for everyone. And, to be fair, his eyes were kind of intense, which was a blessing and a curse sometimes.

Yet, somehow, he couldn't shake the thought of wanting to meet her eyes. She was always looking somewhere else when they talked. Usually her sketchbook.

Still, he didn't want to make her uncomfortable, so he did his best so she could relax when they chatted. He wouldn't push her, make her feel like she had to do it.

He had only met her eyes once, by accident that time she handed him her umbrella. They were bright and curious, almost striking in the muddiness of the downpour.

He remembered them clearly.

So, instead, he focused on learning more about her and her ideas and visions, and loved telling her his stories since they seemed to inspire her to some extent.

He learned to pick up on the change in her expression when she moved from listening to him to formulating an idea.

It was cute.

He thought positively about people, appreciated their qualities, both inside and out, but it wasn't often that he considered a person cute.

That thought lingered in his mind, too.

Her reactions made her even more cute to him. She blushed at times, yes, but she was playful in return, smacking him with her pencil or broom or rolling her eyes with that amused smile of hers. And she gladly showed him her work now.

He didn't think it affected how he interacted with her, but he unconsciously became a bit more friendly, almost flirty at times. He often grinned when they talked, initiated playful physical contact - like poking or gently kicking her - and couldn't help but give her tons of honest compliments, especially on her art.

One time after their brief chat when she was working, he was left with a single thought in his mind:

“Heh, shucks. I like her.”

It wasn't a world changing revelation, just made him connect the dots and realize how much his way of interacting with her had changed.

…And he was pretty sure she liked him too.

He kept interacting with her like usual, honestly just enjoying what they had. A comfortable friendship with banter, intrigue and plenty of laughter.

But it would be a lie to say that he wasn't also gauging more on what she could be feeling.

He picked his best stories, told them with a bit more flair, and gave her more casual compliments.

And, well, if their knees happened to touch when they were talking, or his playful pokes lingered on her skin a moment too long to be read as platonic, he didn't make a big deal out of it.

One day Sethos caught her sketching on a sturdy branch of the Divine Tree, easily accessible but not immediately visible to the townsfolk.

He chuckled and approached her, nimbly making his way to her in the tree.

“You're an enigma, you know that?” he grinned as he sat down next to her.

“It’s simple, really. The view is great from here. So many people to see, so much inspiration to gather.”

He looked down. The citizens were enjoying their evening activities; entering and exiting the tavern, boats docking, adventurers returning to get their rewards for their daily commissions.

It was interesting. He preferred to be mingling down there with them, but stepping back and watching the hustle and bustle from a different angle made him appreciate it in a new way.

He might not have lived in the city for long, but watching all those people do their thing made him realize how lucky he was to be around so many people nowadays. He grew up in the desert, with only the people of the temple as his company, after all.

He was gazing down with a gentle and slightly solemn expression, happy to be where he was now. He had friends, connections, and now… her, too.

He turned to look at her, about to share his appreciation for the view too, but to his surprise, he met her eyes. She had been watching him, curious about how quiet he went and what he was thinking of.

Her eyes held a hint of worry, but enough affection to make him stumble with his words. This time it was Sethos who broke eye contact, turning to look back down.

“Y-yeah. I get it. All those people have their own lives and stories to tell.”

“Exactly!” she chuckled and pointed the end of her pencil at him. “A gold mine of inspiration and ideas.”

They both loved getting ideas from people, huh? Their ways were different, sure, but maybe they were pretty similar, after all.

Stories, curiosity, ideas and inspiration. They worked well together.

That train of thought suddenly made him feel the need to communicate his feelings to her. Like his soul was calling out, wanting to connect with this girl whose company he had been enjoying more and more.

“You know, you remind me of the Moon sometimes”, he started, fittingly artistic for what he was about to do.

“Sounds fun and poetic. Care to elaborate?”

“You're always present, I just gotta know where to look. Mysterious, but mesmerizing.”

“Hehe, thank you.”

She smiled, but didn't seem to catch the full meaning of his words, so he continued.

“What I’m trying to say is, I like you. You draw my attention in a way no one else does.”

Well that definitely caught her attention.

Their eyes met again, and he nodded, not ashamed or embarrassed, but ever so slightly nervous.

“You do?”

She cleared her throat to answer him.

“...I always thought you were like the Sun. You're warm, fun, and easily draw people to you.”

She wasn't as calm as he was, but hoped her indirect poetic message reached him too.

“Does that mean what I think it does?” he couldn't help but ask, a hopeful grin on his face.

She moved her gaze down and nodded.

“I-I like you too. I feel like I can relax around you.”

Both sat in silence, soft and giddy grins on their faces, taking in the big words hanging in the air.

They turned to look back down at the citizens buzzing around the streets, the shy mood eventually becoming comfortable again, and moved on into imagining what kinds of adventures the people below them had experienced today.

Their fingers soon found each other and intertwined slightly as they sat together.

[randoimago]

Day 9. Finding Dammon's Sketchbook Filled w Sketches of Reader

Note(s): Larian has already done so much, so I don't want to sound ungrateful, but romanceable non-party members would have been fun

requested by anon

A sigh leaves Dammon's lips as he looks at the new order that he's received. But he doesn't complain. This forge is a lot better than the other two he's been at.

He turns to look for his notebook that he keeps small details and tricks he's learned for forging, only to pause as he feels arms wrap around him from behind. A smile finds its way onto his face as a chuckle escapes him.

"Haven't I told you it's dangerous to distract me when I'm working?" He teases and turns to face you, doing his best to keep his tail from wagging like a happy animal at seeing you.

"Please, it looked like you were rummaging through your things instead," you reply, and he smiles at the banter before shaking his head and raising the notebook up so you can see it.

"Looking for this. Got a new order, I guess the watch wants some new weapons since a lot of the old ones are, well, old," Dammon explains and sets the notebook down, turning to check on the forge and making sure the heat is right.

He doesn't pay much mind as you pick up his notebook, that is, until he hears a "huh" fall from your lips. He glances up and gives a curious smile.

"I know my handwriting is chicken scratch, I am a blacksmith not a poet," he jokes but you seem distracted by whatever is in his notebook. Dammon raises an eyebrow before he realizes something. "Aw hells."

Dammon didn't have too much money to his name when he reached Baldur's Gate. A lot of it went to finding a place to stay before he managed to land a job at the forge. With his leftover coin, he bought two journals. One to replace the older journal he had for blacksmithing, and the other to sketch. He really should've spent the extra coin to get different looking journals.

"So how does drawings of me help you with making swords?" You ask after a moment and he sighs loudly as he reaches to take the journal, only to make a face when you step away to keep viewing it.

"Your sharp wit is good inspiration," Dammon sarcastically replies. He can feel his skin heat up from his embarrassment and wishes he was a redder-toned tiefling so his blush wouldn't be as noticeable. "I sketch to keep my hands busy when I'm not working the forge. And like you said, it's been a while since I've seen you."

"So, you missed me?" There's a smile on your face and he's relieved that you don't think he's a creep.

Dammon holds his hand out for his sketchbook, and you reluctantly hand it over, still waiting for his reply. "Of course I miss you, moonbeam. But I promise I don't spend all day sulking over you."

"Oh, you're so in love with me."

"Whatever you say."

You both laugh a bit at the banter, and he shakes his head, checking the forge before putting the sketchbook up and grabbing his actual notebook. "This is what I meant to grab," he explains and shows you the actual notes inside with occasional sketching of sword hilts or various blade styles.

"You should've been an artist. You're quite good." Dammon has to stop his tail from wagging at the compliment.

"Yes, and still be starving and on the streets. Smithing makes me more money," he points out before thinking a bit and giving you a sly smile. "Of course, you could commission me for a sketch or two."

You laugh at that, and he feels smiles wider. "Why would I when you draw me for free?" Dammon shakes his head at that and glances at the forge.

"Let's meet up later and have dinner together," Dammon suggests, and you smile at him. "I do have to work, and I don't want you getting burned. Stay safe, love."

The smile you give him as you wave, and leave makes his heartbeat faster. He'll have to draw it later.

[luvsellie]

MASC ON [e. williams]

pairing high school au!ellie x fem!reader

summary being the new girl in school meant walking in to projects smack-dab in the middle of the year. but when you get assigned to work with the masc girl who sits next to you, there’s no hiding your blatant attraction toward her…and maybe she can’t hide her’s either.

warnings ellie and reader are 18 here (seniors in high school) !! kissing, pining (this is literally just fluff and i wanted an excuse to write for flashback el)

wc 3.9k

note this is incredibly self-indulgent and took me an embarrassing long amount of time to actually write i apologize (title inspiration from the song mask off by future)

“this is so stupid.”

ellie’s complaint compelled you to roll your eyes, a redundant sigh escaping you. “i heard you the last three times you said it.”

your deskmate slumped against the side of her bed, nimble fingers fidgeting with a slightly chewed pen as she watched you create a rough outline of the halle comet on a large poster board—she thought it was more entertaining than trying to gather the essential information your teacher had required to be provided. you could feel her eyes observing every flick and stroke of your pencil as you struggled to copy the image from your laptop.

the task had deemed itself to be more complicated than you thought, and after one more final attempt, you tossed the writing utensil to the side in frustration. “this is so stupid.”

snorting at your disgruntled attitude, ellie reached for the pencil. “how about this; i’ll draw and you get the stats. i’m dying of boredom over here.” she shuffled closer before you could object, shoving her textbook your way.

not bothering to argue, you grabbed your backpack and started to sift through the supplies you had brought along to her house. markers, pens, pencils, scissors, binder…

removing your binder from your bag you flipped it open, only to be met with other assignments and notes from varying classes. groaning, you said over a shoulder, “ellie do you have notebook paper?”

“yeah—top drawer of my desk,” she answered without looking in your direction, her short hair falling to cover the side of her face.

nodding to yourself, you shoved your things back in your bag and stood, making your way toward her desk. it was rather cluttered, which didn’t shock you in the least, but still organized in probably a way only ellie would understand.

you grabbed the first drawer’s handle and gently pulled, exposing the mess that was inside. grumbling to yourself about how ellie couldn’t possibly be able to find anything in this chaos, you began to poke through her things. managing to spot a spare journal—which you noted was not looseleaf paper like you had asked—you carefully maneuvered the notebook out from underneath all of her art supplies.

hip-thrusting the drawer shut, you flipped the journal open, eager to get on with the research you did not want to do, simply to get this project over with. but as you overturned lined pages, you came to realize this was a sketchbook—and you were the starring subject.

“ellie,” you called, eyes trained on a drawing of you slumped over a book in the school library (you recalled this day rather vividly).

the auburn-haired girl finally looked up from her spot on the carpeted floor. she quickly realized what was in your hands. “shit,” she couldn’t help but mutter in panic. ellie rushed to her feet, already reaching to take the sketchbook from you. “sorry, you weren’t supposed to-”

you said her name again, interrupting her explanation with “you would’ve saved me a lot of time had you been the one to draw that ridiculous comet from the get-go.”

ellie’s arm fell to her side, and she tried to calm her racing heart with a deep inhale. she scratched the back of her neck sheepishly, invisible strings tugging on the corners of her mouth when she realized you weren’t pissed at her. “yeah, i guess you’re right.” she paused before adding, “you’re a really shitty artist.”

your eyes flickered to hers immediately, and you snapped the journal shut before smacking her left upper arm with it. “hey! i tried my best, okay? we can’t all be as talented as you.”

“got that right,” ellie mused, her familiar easygoingness making a return. she stuck a hand out. “can i please have my sketchbook back?”

you kissed the back of your teeth, giving her a look of contemplation as you hugged the object in your hand a little closer to your chest. “mm, i don’t know. i was thinking about going through it some more. i mean, i barely got to see anything.”

ellie’s eyebrows shot up. “seriously?”

“seriously,” you told her with a nod, taking a step closer to the desk behind you.

her hand dropped, and you swore that something flashed across her face, but before you could identify what it had disappeared. maybe i’m pushing it, you thought suddenly, growing aware of the way you were holding onto something that she probably poured her heart and soul into.

across from you, ellie adjusted her stance before shrugging. “alright. have fun, i guess. i just need it back tomorrow by 6th period.”

you blinked at her words, dumbfounded by her compliance. watching her return to the poster board on the floor, you held the little journal closer, already making note of what you would be doing later when you returned home.

ellie liked to draw you. she supposed it was rather obvious, but seeing the way your eyes widened as you observed her drawings made her second guess. had she really not been that apparent? she guessed not. and while she was excited to let you take her sketchbook home, she was more nervous.

it was very hard to sleep that night, and only when the small illuminated numbers on her alarm clock struck two a.m. did she finally manage to doze off.

“you look a little…rough,” dina said, cringing at her own word choice.

ellie ran a hand through her hair as she walked beside the shorter girl. “thanks. i hadn’t noticed.”

dina ignored the jab. “i can’t believe you actually gave it to her. hell, you never even let me touch that thing…and you’ve only known her for, like, two weeks! i am feeling a little betrayed, but it’s whatever.”

“letting her look at it just…felt right? i don’t know how to explain it. she doesn’t seem like someone who’d become suddenly disgusted by me drawing her way before we ever started talking,” ellie confessed, spotting the door to her earth and space class.

“ouch.” dina grabbed ellie’s arm, pulling her to an empty wall. “first of all, i wouldn’t be disgusted by you if i was her. secondly, stop being nervous. there’s no need for all of that.”

“i’m not nervous,” she objected immediately.

the brown-eyed girl stared blankly at her. “yes, you are. you’re more fidgety than normal. just go in there, sit down, and wait for her to walk in. you said she normally gets to class practically right before the bell rings?”

“yeah, she comes from the other side of the building.”

“perfect! now go.” dina shoved her friend in the direction of the classroom, waving her off with a smile.

sighing through her nose, ellie entered the room, greeted her teacher, and visibly sagged when she noticed you weren’t in your seat yet. there’s still some time, she thought to herself, not realizing that you had walked in behind her until you said: 

“hey, el, you’re kinda in the way.”

you watched as ellie turned to face you, her eyes wide as she whirled. “you got here fast,” she stated bluntly.

shrugging, you moved past her to walk toward your desk. as you sat you said, “class was in the library today since they were using our room for testing.”

ellie nodded from in front of you, still standing. you noticed how aloof she was acting. “are you gonna sit?” you asked, gesturing to the desk beside you.

“yes,” she said hastily, pulling back her chair. she landed with a thud. slouching against the back of her seat, she looked at you and continued, “you brought the poster in, right? this morning?”

your mouth pressed into a thin line. “yes, ellie, i brought the poster in. but we’re not presenting today anyway, so had i forgotten, we’d still be okay.”

“god, that is such a relief,” she sighed, leaning her head back to stare at the speckled tile ceiling and roll her tense shoulders.

“agreed,” you breathed while hauling your bag into your lap. unzipping it, you pulled out the familiar brown journal. “here. back to you before 6th period. just like you said.”

ellie took her notebook cautiously, setting it on her desk as she glanced at you.

“why’re you looking at me like that?” you asked skeptically, lowering your voice to a whisper as your teacher started class at the front of the room. “if you didn’t want me to take it then why did you give it to me in the first place?”

the girl beside you shook her head, leaning her body closer. you stared at the outline of her tattoo as she said, “i wanted you to take it. i’m just nervous that you look at me differently now.” 

your eyebrows shot upward, both taken back and confused by her answer. “why would i even-” you turned to face her. “ellie, i don’t look at you ‘differently’ because you draw me. i think it’s rather sweet, actually.”

ellie was bewildered by your words, recalling what dina had said earlier about how she would have loved it if she were drawing her. maybe she had been right. licking her chapped lips, she shifted in her seat, as if she were going to say something, but snapped her head to the front when the teacher said her name sternly.

“miss williams i need you to pay attention, please. this has to do with the project, and i will not be happy when you decide to ask me something i already explained to the class,” the man up front lectured, making both you and ellie sit a little straighter in your seats.

you sent ellie an apologetic look when she glimpsed in your direction. as your teacher moved on from his scolding, you grabbed her sketchbook from her desk and flipped it open to a clean page, pen in hand.

meet me at my locker after school? you wrote quickly, pushing it over for her to see.

ellie grabbed the writing utensil you gave her. i have basketball practice after school :(

frowning, you exaggerated a sigh, shooting a playful eye roll her way as you scribbled out a reply. then i’ll come by the locker room after practice. there—problem solved.

problem solved. ellie wrote back with a grin, nodding at your solution.

“i am incredibly stupid. what was i even thinking?”

jesse was quick to shoot down your self-loathing, his shoulder brushing up against yours as he walked you in the direction of the girl's locker room. “no, you’re not. you were bold. there’s a difference.”

you pressed your lips into a thin line, cheeks slightly puffing out before you kissed the back of your teeth. anxiously running a hand over your face, you said, “well…is there really?”

“yes,” your friend quipped.

rolling your eyes, you shoved jesse jokingly as someone came walking out of the locker room. you instantly recognized dina in her cheerleading outfit, a knowing smile making its way onto your lips. the girl from your history class had always been super friendly.

“dina!” you called, earning a low groan from jesse.

the cheerleader grinned immediately, though you recognized its falter when she spotted her ex by your side. “hey! what’re you doing in the athletic building?” she made a show of not acknowledging jesse.

“i’m here for ellie!” you told her with a toothy smile, fidgeting with the straps of your backpack.

dina’s eyes widened with realization, but her bubbly appearance didn’t feign. she pointed a thumb toward the door she had come out of. “oh! she’s the last one still in the locker room, which i suppose you might’ve already known?”

shaking your head, you said, “yeah, i told her i’d meet her after basketball practice had finished.”

“well don’t let me keep you here then,” dina exclaimed, stepping out of the way to the door with the tiny woman’s symbol on it.

you nodded as you stepped past her, only looking over your shoulder to say, “i’ll see you guys tomorrow!”

“yep!” dina confirmed.

jesse shot you a reassuring grin as you disappeared into the dimly lit hallway that hosted the coaches’ offices.

heart beginning to race, you pulled the door handle to the locker room and forced your legs to move. the fluorescent lights were harsh against your eyes, your chest constricting with nerves as you walked past bathroom stalls, sinks, and floor-length mirrors. you couldn't remember the last time you had been in a locker room.

finally coming up on the athletic lockers (they were on a completely separate wall from the regular physical education lockers), you started to hear shuffling.

“ellie?” you called out, trying your best to not sound like you wanted to abandon this idea entirely.

as you passed a few more of the athletic cages, you spotted the girl you were searching for. her lack of a shirt made you balk.

turned toward the lockers, ellie passed a towel through her wet hair, arms tense with movement. you admired the taunt muscles of her back, her damp skin littered with small, but visible, freckles.

she hadn’t noticed your presence.

you cleared your throat promptly, offering her a smile when she turned around. trying not to be distracted by her toned arms and abdomen, you said, “hi ellie. hope i didn’t catch you at a bad time?”

she shook her head, mouth curling into something between a genuine grin and a satisfied smirk. “hey…and no, you caught me at a really good time, actually. practice ended about 45 minutes ago.”

nodding, you took a few steps closer. “yeah, i know. i asked a friend when practices normally end. figured me being a little ‘late’ would benefit. didn’t want to catch you before you had time to shower.”

“ouch,” she said, reaching to grab for her dirty practice t-shirt in her locker. ellie looked over her shoulder as you halted.

something about the way her eyes glinted made you deadpan, “if you throw that at me i will turn around and leave right now.”

chuckling to herself, ellie shook her head. “calm down, i’m not throwing anything at anyone.” she dramatically put the shirt and a pair of folded athletic shorts in a drawstring backpack before shoving it back into the locker.

“you are so annoying,” you snapped at her, moving to sit on the wooden bench placed directly in the middle nook of lockers. as you sat, you caught a whiff of sharp mahogany and cheap cologne.

ellie’s eyebrows raised, her shoulders leaning to press against the cool metal behind her. “and yet here you are, going out of your way to meet me in the back of the locker room after school.”

part of you was certain she made emphasis on the phrase ‘back of the locker room.’

shooting her a glare, though, you straightened as you said, “i said you were annoying, not that i didn’t like you.” there was a pregnant silence before you added, “besides, i wanted to ask if you wanted to go get coffee with me.” you watched ellie’s lips pull back in disgust, your heart dropping in an instant. “or not. sorry, i didn’t-”

“how about we go get dinner instead?” she interrupted. “coffee’s disgusting and i’m starving.”

blinking at her words, you licked your lips. “yeah. yes. that works.” it took you a moment to regain your composure. shit, i almost blew that. “i didn’t know you hated coffee.”

ellie turned and grabbed a hair tie. as she put half of her hair up—somehow in the most attractive way you might add—she said, “oh, yeah. that shit is gross.”

“um, have you even tried it?” you asked doubtfully, mouth forming into a frown. when the auburn-haired girl stayed quiet and instead clasped a thin silver chain around her neck you guessed her answer was clean no. 

you scoffed as you nudged her sock-covered foot. “i’m going to force you to try mine the next time i bring some.”

“sounds great,” ellie said sarcastically, a grin tugging on her lips. her smile sent chills sprawling down your spine.

shrugging off your backpack, you set it by your feet, muttering out a barely audible, “fuck.” you had no idea where this conversation was going, and your attempt at asking her out on a date had been a bust…sort of?

ellie had declined coffee and suggested dinner, but it still sounded like it fit more under the category of  ‘hangout as friends.’ talking to her was sometimes like talking to a brick wall. masc’s are so fucking clueless, you thought, releasing a heavy sigh through your nose. or maybe i’m not being obvious enough?

“what?” she asked at your suddenly agitated (as she’d describe it) attitude, wetting her chapped lips as she went to sit next to you. lifting a leg over the bench, she sat, body facing yours as she man-spreaded for comfort—her proximity and stature reminded you that she was still very much shirtless…and somehow way better at this (you weren’t sure what this even entitled) than you were.

goosebumps spread across the skin of your upper arms. you shifted, pulling up a knee to rest on the wood as you trailed off, eyes avoiding hers, “you’re just so…”

her head tilted, eyes narrowing as she leaned closer. there was no way she didn’t notice the way you sucked in a breath. “i’m so what? look at me when you talk,” she said.

your gaze snapped toward hers, but first flickered to the swell of her mouth.

“i’m so what?” she repeated, her voice lowering an octave. when you said nothing, she added, “cat got your tongue?”

between her teasing and the adrenaline coursing through your body, you were compelled to do the only thing you could think of to shut her up—to make her drop the questions. swallowing the lump building in your throat, you grabbed her face, thumbs pressing against her warm cheeks, and kissed her with unmistakable want.

although ellie hadn’t expected for you to be so physically direct, she did not mind it at all. following the rough pace you had set, she kissed you back with just as much ferocity, her fingers slipping into the belt loops of your jeans to slide herself forward and you closer.

you mewled at her movement, the pressure between your thighs growing as intensely as you were kissing her. she was quick to regain control of the situation you had thrust upon her.

“ellie,” you mumbled against her mouth, your eyes half-shut as she tugged on your jeans a second time.

“come here,” she told you hastily, lips trailing toward your left ear. “sit on my lap.” she kissed your temple. “please.”

shuddering at her request, you wasted no time in pulling away, pushing yourself off the bench, and situating your legs over hers in a straddle position.

the heat from ellie’s skin seeped through the fabric of your shirt, her hands slipping past the hem. you found yourself arching instinctively to her venturing touch, your stomach twisting into tight knots.

“you are going to make me go insane,” she confessed, her words coming out in a whisper, leaning in to kiss you again. her lips were gentler against yours, eager to savor the moment.

in turn, you indulged in letting your palms trace the sculpted muscles of her arms, fingers trailing every dip and curve from her years of work in the weight room. “you are so beautiful,” you told her delicately, relishing the way her skin burned under yours.

ellie followed the compliment, her hands finding your face and forcing you to look at her. green eyes etched with something between lust and admiration, she thumbed a corner of your mouth. “do you have any idea what you do to me?” she whispered. “from the moment you walked into that classroom…”

her words died in her throat and she swallowed thickly as you shook your head. “don’t do that. not here.”

“do what?” she questioned, adjusting her position on the bench.

the friction between your legs forced you to release a shaky breath, and you licked your lips in an attempt to focus on bringing your thoughts into coherent sentences. she was making it extremely hard. “i want to talk about this over dinner,” you told her hoarsely. “about what we are now. about what you want us to be.”

“are you saying you want to go on a date?” she asked quietly.

you couldn’t help your sudden smile. “i asked you earlier when i mentioned coffee, but you instantly shut that idea down.”

ellie rolled her eyes, though you could sense her pang of guilt. “you weren’t very clear on the date part. otherwise, i would’ve said yes immediately.”

surprise feigned your features. “you? saying yes to a coffee date?”

“oh, ha-ha.” she exaggerated the fake laugh. “and yes, had i known you were asking me out i would've sacrificed my comfort for your enjoyment. honestly, i think i do that quite often—as of right now i think my tailbone is being bruised.”

you sucked in harshly, moving off her with urgency as you shoved her shoulder with a hand. “why didn’t you say anything?!”

“and risk not feeling you up? yeah, no thanks.” her tone was definite.

your jaw fell slack as you crossed your arms over your chest, confounded by her response. “you can still feel me up without me in your lap, dummy.”

“yeah, but that sounds less fun,” ellie teased, holding up her hands in defense. she stood from her seat, reaching around you to grab her baseball t-shirt from earlier. as she put her arms through the sleeves she said, “i have a game tomorrow. you should come watch.”

you scrunched your nose jokingly, deciding to use her words against her. “and see you all sweaty? yeah, no thanks.”

ellie straightened out her shirt, shooting you a rather bemused look in the process. “how do you know you won’t like seeing me all sweaty and worn out?”

as she hunched down to pull on her converse, you exhaled heavily, unable to come up with something witty. mainly because she was right. you would totally like to see her all sweaty and worn out. so, with a slight bruise to your ego, you itched your nape, mumbling out, “i never said i wouldn’t like that. you always assume shit about me.”

“and you always assume shit about me, so we’re even,” ellie shot back, standing back up. she grabbed her backpack from inside the locker before changing the subject. “where do you wanna go for dinner?”

you shrugged, reaching down for your own bag. swinging it over a should, you said, “i don’t know. whatever you want. and you’re right, i do assume shit about you. like right now, for instance, i’m assuming you’re a picky eater.”

“i am not a picky eater.” she shut down your claim with a light kick to your shoe. “and fine, i’ll pick something and surprise you. did you drive to school today?”

you shook your head. “no.”

“great, looks like you’re sticking with me then.” she tried and failed to hide her cheeky smile. closing her locker, she grabbed your hand, hastily leading you toward the main hallway of the locker room. “come on.”

trailing after her, you felt your cheeks heat with the prompt realization of your reality. maybe you’d have to thank your earth and space teacher for assigning that stupid comet project. the steady growth of your relationship with ellie made your insides twist with pure excitement, and as she rambled about how much you would enjoy her restaurant of choice, you couldn't help but succumb to the feeling of pure bliss.

[zylophie]

🔮 .巫术 — pleasant surprise | featuring: robin

🪄 ★ ₊˚𝙎𝙔𝙉𝙊𝙋𝙎𝙄𝙎꒱ ₊˚⊹ Robin has always been looking into the crowd eagerly for [y/n]. However, due to their busy schedule, Robin could never find them in the crowd. Only to find a pleasant surprise one day..

🦋★ ₊˚𝘾𝙒꒱ ₊˚⊹ a little suggestive(?) 🔮 ★ ₊˚𝙂𝙀𝙉𝙍𝙀꒱ ₊˚⊹ fluff 💫 ★ ₊˚𝙉𝙊𝙏𝙀꒱ ₊˚⊹ I love robin so much, I was in literal tears(of joy) when I found out Chevy was her singer. I have been such a fan of Chevy for a long time skbdksndkdjd. Also, I can't believe I'm willingly writing fluff on my own record.. 💌 ★ ₊˚𝙄𝙉��𝙊𝙍𝙈𝘼𝙏𝙄𝙊𝙉꒱ ₊˚⊹ If you'd like to request click 'here!' and read the rules~ 🐈‍⬛ ★ ₊˚𝙇𝙄𝙉𝙆꒱ ₊˚⊹ hsr masterlist 🧹 ★ ₊˚𝙉𝙊𝙒 𝙋𝙇𝘼𝙔𝙄𝙉𝙂꒱ ₊˚⊹ pleasant surprise | featuring: robin

★ Whenever Robin was doing her shows, she would always desperately try to look for [y/n] in the crowd.

★ However, every single time Robins' eyes were darting eagerly around the crowd.. [y/n] was never there.

★ Robin slowly stopped trying to find [y/n] in the crowd eventually, but there's still a part of her that wishes that [y/n] would be there during one of her shows

★ Until one day.. She came across something which immediately brightens her mood for her upcoming performance..

'I didn't see [y/n] in the crowd again.. It's been a long time since they've been to my shows.'

Robin sighs as she dabs more makeup removal onto her cotton pads, before bringing it up to her face. She was feeling exhausted from performing for so long, as well as getting interviewed by her fans.

She remembered how she would always ask [y/n] if they are able to come to her shows, but was always left with a vague answer.

After she was done with removing most of her makeup. She tied her hair into a low lose bun, intending to take a bath afterwards. When suddenly..

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

Robin's wings perked up. Knowing who it is outside, Robin couldn't contain her smile. Already feeling more energized than before, she went to go and get the door for whoever was behind it.

"Robin~! I'm back, how was your performanc-"

Usually [y/n] would often visit Robin a few hours after her show is done, so that they could spend a bit of time together. Expecting Robin to still be in her performance outfit still, however, when [y/n] opened their eyes. They saw Robin with a completely new hairstyle. It was also the first time they saw Robin look so disheveled, not only that, [y/n] didn't expected to be greeted with Robin in her lingerie too! [Y/n] immediately closed their eyes and faced to the ground.

"A-ah, Robin! I bought y-your favourite f-food! P-please e-enjoy it!"

Before Robin could even reply, [y/n]'s figure could be seen getting smaller and smaller, as they ran through the hallway after leaving their things behind.

'Ah.. Did they not like what they see? I guess I did look pretty untidy..'

Robin sighed, before shaking her head. Before shutting the door to take a shower, she'll talk to reader later.

THUD!

"Huh? What was that sound?"

As Robin turned around, she saw a notebook had fallen from her desk in her room. Robin moved towards the item to pick it up.

'Strange.. I don't remember this in my room..'

Robin flipped to the first page to see a familiar handwriting of the name who the book belongs to. "[Y/n]'s personal sketchbook".

'Ah, so it is [y/n]'s! I'm a little bit curious of their work since the last time I saw their art it was a few months ago.. Maybe I'll just take a peek, surely they won't mind, right?'

She flipped to the next page. Robin's eyes widened when she saw a fully colored illustration of herself in her performance outfit today! Many thoughts went through her mind.

'Wow, [y/n]'s artworks are always so spectacular!'

'I'm really happy they drew me'

'Wait.. How did they see me in this outfit? It's my first time wearing it and all the details are drawn correctly.. Today's live hasn't been published publicly yet too..'

Robin continued to flip through the notebook, only to find drawings of her only in all of her past performance outfits, until a few pair of words on the back of her today's performance caught her eye.

'Dear diary..'

Oops! Robin realised she may have accidentally stumbled into the wrong area, however, her curiosity was peaked and wanted to continue reading to see if she can get answers from how [y/n] was able to get her outfits drawn to a tee.

'Robin's outfit today was really pretty. It was sparkling, but not as bright as she was! I wish I could talk to her after her performance asap, but whenever Robin is in a new outfit in general. I'll just be a blushing AND stuttering mess! I won't be able to talk to her properly.. I'm so glad I got a seat at the very back! Since the performance was 2 hours, I got plenty of time to ready myself before I see her. Gotta finish this drawing fast!'

Robin's wings flutter in joy. One, because she was glad that [y/n] does come to her shows. Secondly, she realised the reason why they looked towards the ground earlier, she giggled before playing the book down with an uncontrollable smile.

"I'll return it to them later~"

© zylophie 2024. do not steal, copy, repost, edit, translate or use my works.

[spilledcoffeeclub]

I can explain.

Well, can I?

Those who follow me or have followed my Filofax journey know that this image is Wrong. I use a Filofax for all my planning, memory keeping, journaling and commonplaceing. So what is this?

Honestly I blame Lindsey @/lindseyscribbles and her new moleskine daily journal. We’ve all seen it, it’s amazing. And usually I would say I’m sort of immune to fomo from watching other peoples notebooks, I’m so wrapped up in my own notebooks and honestly looking through my old notebooks is usually what gives me the most fomo I would say. But Lindsey’s video just struck a cord with me. I looked at her moleskine and I thought “that looks so nice”.

Moleskines in general were my first love, from before i knew how to plan (I very much believe planning and journaling etc is a skill just like drawing or taking neat photos, something you have to learn and practice) or what I would ever do with a notebook. They were and are very widely available where I live, can be found in any stationary section or bookstore quite easily. And they’re so fancy. Not fancy enough that you wouldn’t give a pocket moleskine to a 10 year old, but fancier than spiral bound notebooks or cheap notebooks marketed for kids. It felt like such a an adult thing, I guess.

So I think that’s one of the reasons why Lindseys videos struck a cord within me, to begin with and I just couldn’t get the thought of a daily dated journal out of my mind. This is such a huge move (for me at least) from the ever adaptable Filofax with endless customization and flexibility. A Filofax is also such an open system, where as a moleskine daily journal is very much a closed system. It has dated days - meaning that if you fall sick for a week and don’t feel like writing in your little journal, you will always have those blank pages there. This was what scared me most with this and one of the reasons why I have stayed away from dated planners for such a long time. I just don’t trust that I’m gonna keep it up for the entire year and I don’t like backfilling, and previously that has sort of made it impossible for me to keep a dated journal. Having spent more time in the planner community though, I’ve realized that it’s okay to leave a couple of pages blank, and that your notebook will still have value if you have a couple of missed sections. Another thing that scared me was that what if I need more than one page to write about my day? Because we all have those days.

But still with all these thoughts bouncing around in my head, not to mention the terrible paper quality in moleskine - the fact that they differ from book to book, even within the same series or from the same place is just TRASH - there was something that felt so comforting about a dated journal.

And I think that was what really sold me in the end. I wanted that comfort of knowing where I would be for the next 12/18 months. Coming from Filofax with its endless customizability there is a constant upkeep with new pages and because there is always other options its easy to fall into the trap of never really stopping to adapt and pick at your system which just becomes exhausting after a while. With a bound, dated book you only have the system that they offer and you can manipulate it a bit but there’s really only so far you can go with it. And somewhere in between having these thoughts I had put the 18 months in my cart and ordered it.

The experience has been maybe not as glamorous as i had initially hoped - a new sketchbook has a lot of promises and potential until you realize its just a couple of papers bound together and its you who have to bring the magic. I’m using the page very much as Lindsey does, a small timed to-do list and then just rambling about my day. It’s only been about a week and I feel like I’m still learning what I want from this. It’s not so much memory keeping, because nothing all that exiting happens in my life, but rather a sort of mixture of talking my way through various tasks I need to do, and small sort of check-ins on how I’m feeling and if I’m eating etc. It’s something I’ve been doing for a long time in both bound books and Filofax and while I dont put too much value into these inserts after they are done - as they don’t have a lot of substance - it is still something I need to do every day to function and having a separate space for this has just made a lot of the noice in my head just lessened a bit. I also think that this could be something I use for a longer period (I’m not gonna say this is the one because that would just jinx it) because its such low maintenance - there is no memory keeping or decorations or backlogging, just brain dump after brain dump. I’m also very much open to the fact that my page layout will shift as the year goes by, but that hopefully all the change will happen within these pages instead of in another system.

Obviously, I’m one week in and have a terrible track-record when it comes to dated planners, but I’m feeling optimistic. Has anyone else recently changed systems?

[shankss-magnificent-ass]

OP character catching you drawing them: Shanks and Mihawk

Shanks

It was after dinner and Shanks had just finished his shower and was lounging on the bed when you had come back from yours. He had his arm folded behind his head and the towel around his waist was slowly falling off. The water droplets dripping from his hair twinkled in the candlelight on his bedside table. You stood in the doorway for a hot minute observing his form, before rushing over to the chair with your notebook. You snatched up a charcoal pencil and started to transfer what you saw onto paper.

Shanks peered up at you when he saw you scratching away on your notebook. He noticed you periodically looking between him and your sketchbook. He had quickly pieced together that you were drawing him, so he tried to stay as still as possible. And when you got up to wash some medium off your nose he jumped up from his spot and looked at your drawing.

When you came back, you screeched when you saw him standing beside your chair with your notebook in his hand. He grinned at you and chuckled, "my my my, you got it bad for me, huh?"

"Shut the fuck up we've been dating for years."

Shanks handed you your notebook and mused, "I think you need a model," dropping his towel and sauntering over to the bed. You glared at him because he let out an airy laugh as you sink back into your chair and scoop up your book.

Mihawk

It was afternoon when Mihawk was working on basic stance forms in the garden. His grunting had distracted you from your warm-up sketches. You balanced your pencil on your upper lips you watched him from the window will of a nearby window. The flow of energy through his body like a wave as he moved entranced you into scribbling out gesture studies in your book. You had filled half a page's worth of them when you fumbled with your pencil, and it clattered to the ground and rolled towards the man.

Mihawk looked over at the sound it made, and stared at the pencil until it rolled into his shoe. He picked it up, held it out to you, and said, "I'll trade you."

"what?"

" I'll trade you this pencil for a glance at what you're working." He elaborated. When you just stared at him, too stunned to speak, he tucked the pencil behind his ear and he sighed, "too bad, guess this'll stay with me." And he turned around to leave, when you grabbed a hold of his sleeve and cried, "whoa, whoa, wait. No, I'll trade," and held out the sketchpad.

Mihawk handed you the pencil, and started to look over your sketches. He had a taste and knowledge of the finer things, so you were excited about his feedback. He hummed as he glanced over them, "these the only ones you just did of me? On this page here?"

"Yes," you reply, suddenly kind of nervous because what if he didn't think they were good?

Mihawk nodded his head, "these are good, you captured the movement, but they're still feel stiff. If you want more practice, I'll be out here for another hour, use it well." He handed you your notepad and walked away

[celerydays]

could you walk us through what notebooks & journals & pens /etc you use - they look so good!

I would be SO happy to, you have no idea!!

Alright, let's fucking GOOOO~

Starting off with my current "workhorse" pens - I have like *checks notes* 36 fountain pens and a bit too many inked up atm, but these are just the ones I'm currently reaching for or have inked up more often than not:

TWSBI Go (F): Kinda ugly! But also kinda cute! It's cheap and works great (I friggin love TWSBI pens tbh) and it has a little hole on the cap where you can attach a lanyard or charms, like I did! Makes it cuter imo and it's kind of my emotional support pen these days.

Opus88 Pocket (EF): This 2022 edition has a little Moon tarot design on the cap so it's pretty much the pen I use exclusively for my witchy/tarot practice journals! A lil bummed the cap doesn't post, especially since its a shorter pocket-sized pen, but not a deal breaker and I still love it.

Pilot Custom 823 (F): My grail pen that I've literally coveted for years and just recently acquired at the DC Pen Show this weekend! It's only been a day but I think it could potentially become my favorite pen. Ever.

Pilot Prera (CM): This is my third Prera lol. I just think they're great and really underrated pens! Also a recent acquisition from the DC Pen Show and this cursive M nib is suuuuper fun to write with.

Pilot Vanishing Point (EF): My favorite pen for planning! Super fine-tipped for writing task lists and schedules and love that it's so convenient/quick-draw with the click mechanism.

(I'm totally a Pilot pen ho, can you tell? asdjflaglsg)

Journals/Planners/Notebooks under cut–

Sterling Ink B6 Common Planner: For a good chunk of this year, I was in this planner because I honestly love the size and all the layouts. Super practical and flexible as a system. 10/10 would go back. I've used it to plan, as a reading journal, as a tarot log...

But I get the itch to move around so it's been sitting a little unused since like June, oop.

Leuchtturm A6: I started craving something tiny and minimal so I've been bullet journaling in this pocket notebook for the last month or two and I'm really enjoying it!

Standard-sized Tomoe River Paper notebook: This is pretty consistent in that I don't change up the system itself, but I'm in and out of it for memory keeping/scrapbook journaling! It's almost always a Tomoe River paper notebook of SOME kind that I usually buy in A5 size to go to FedEx and get it cut down to standard. Though I'm thinking of getting a blank Midori MD A5 to have cut down next time - I've been liking the freedom of blank pages for journaling instead of anything lined or gridded.

I really need to catch up with it tbh, but I love sitting in an explosion of printed photos, stickers, and washi and going ham with the pages.

(I do have a flip through of my January-March 2022 pages on YouTube)

Midori MD Cotton B6 Slim: I also have this sketchbook that sorta turned into a visual sketch diary of sorts. I fell off a while ago but want to get back into it because it's super fun to work in and to look back on!

Wide-sized Cosmo Air Light notebook & A5 Filofax Malden: These are my tarot/witchy journals. Grimoires I guess? One is for journaling and all my messier notes while the other is more for reference and ease of organization.

A5 Leuchtturm: I didn't know if I should include this guy, but I've been writing it in a lot recently so I guess I will lol. This is like truuuly a miscellaneous™ notebook.

I got this A5 notebook back in 2017 to use as my very first bullet journal, then found out that this size is personally waaaay too big for me to use as a bullet journal so I hopped off of it pretty quick. It now sits on my desk because since it's mostly blank I'll just pick it up to use it to write literally A N Y T H I N G.

Most recently, I wrote like 5 pages in one night on notes for a fanfiction piece I was working on (I'm not a writer, this fic is never gonna see the light of day by anyone but me lololol. Hyperfixation is so wild; I've put 80k+ words within just 10 days into it so far and it's been hella therapeutic.)

That's all, I think!?

It's funny because I actually have a NEW notebook arriving tomorrow that I'm going to try out as a bujo/commonplace/omni journal of sorts?? I might write an update post after I've set that up and see how I like it <3

[thestarfishinjootsoffice]

Hi, if its ok to ask .

Slashers x teen reader

The teen reader is fond of sewing after finishing the sketch. If they cant do the method they look it up online when they are able to create it with trial and error they gift the slashers something they made weather be small or big . If anyone attacks them she has a bracelet with a pin cushion filled with pins for attack

I'm kinda confused since you didn't specify what kind of sewing but I tried my best!

Slashers x teen! reader who likes sewing

Michael 🔪

Michael doesn't like sewing obviously, he doesn't get the appeal other than the damage you could cause with the sharp needle/ the presser foot he guess.

But damn he loves your sewing products even if it looks like he glanced at it one time for a second, he thinks they're so cute and especially since you made it all for him?? And him specifically???

One day you took a large amount of your time and made a mini him with a mini knife and he looked pissed off but inside he was pleasantly surprised and pleased and from then on he took it everywhere with him inside his breast pocket.

He witness you having problems with your idea one time and just silently watched you struggle cause he doesn't know what to do either and then walked away after you finally found out how to fix it. It's weird but ig that's his way of looking after you. (he came back an hour later to see what you made even though it might just be halfway done.)

He thinks the hobby itself is a waste of time but takes it back when you gift him cool ass clothings or toys with it. (he totally still thinks it a waste of time, it's just cooler when you do it.)

Your dad doesn't approve of sharp things that could danger YOU but if its for self defense he can let it pass. Although he thinks it's unnecessary. (you have him, why would you need weapons?)

But he approves when he realises they keep you safe. But he thinks they look hideous.

Jason 🪓

He's never really thought of sewing before but it did pique his interest when he saw you doing it one day. He did find your sketching notebook and grew fond of your imagination.

I think Jason's clothes do become very worn out and so you did your best to make a new one for him (which you got from dead victims) and made him a big long sleeved shirt which consisted of forest green, coffee brown and other nature and earthy colors. He was so proud of you, his little kid. :,)

But he likes anything you make, really.

If you're struggling with something you have to find out in your own. Because I don't know where you can look anything up online or any technology in a place such as where Jason lives. But Jason will support you to the best of his abilities.

And oh, if you make any matching articles of clothing for the both of you he will be over the moon. Like matching bear bucket hats or matching patterned pants. He thinks it'll be a great way to let outsiders others know that you two have a connection with each other. (yk, like relation? Family relation?? Idk)

He loves the little small things you can make, like a sewn cat or animal and make it look like a key chain.

If you make a mini him, he might just cry. If you make a mini him and you holding hands like a parent / child way he'll definitely cry. He never even dreamed of such luxury. He's just engulfing you while hugging you like. "oh you precious thing, *sob*"

Jason absolutely freaks out when he saw the bracelet pin cushion. You have a bracelet full of pins, what if they slip out and cut your entire hand off!? But just show him how helpful it is and he'll calm down a little. A little...

Hannibal 🍽️

Hannibal noticed your hobby of sewing after a while of living with him/ visiting you before he took you in (?). He finds the hobby quite adorable and pretty useful. He would love to see your creations after you're done with them.

He may or may not snoop around your sketchbook and act as if nothing happened if you almost catch him.

He compliments whatever you make but gives constructive criticism when needed. And sometimes he looks too deep in what your sewn products are and what they might mean. 💀

this man gets so enthusiastic and happy when you want to make custom clothes for him like ong, a suit made from love from his child and made exactly to his liking?? What could he ask for more? He happily just stands there while you take his measurements.

He occasionally checks up on you while you sew, and although he prefers when you two are in the dinner table together, he won't mind having a meal or two alone. Atleast you eat.

Hannibal acknowledges your errors, not in a bad way but in a way where he sees it as learning process and is very proud of you when you've successfully completed your work.

Talking about sewing, you already know about the kinda expensive shit he gets for you according to your taste. They just seem very valuable no matter how you make them look.

Do it, make matching suits (or yours a dress, however you like it) for the both of you. He has this sick ass introduction where he introduces you as his teenage child and you look like those cool parent & child team in action movies/shows.

He also doesn't approve of sharp things and thinks the pin cushion is a bit odd. They're too obvious and someone might snatch them and make the tables turn so he suggests a more secret area.

Billy n Stu 🎭

Safe to say the both of them thought sewing was boring and takes up too much of time but that wasn't much after they met you.

You literally make their ghostface costumes.

They both love seeing what sorts of things you can make from a lump of small pieces of clothing and a needle/machine. They totally asked you to sew custom clothes for them. (Billy was a bit of an asshole but agreed to give you money because of stu) they couldn't have been happier with the result.

They think sewing is so cool now. And if you make a ghostface / mini them, that's it. Sewing is officially their favourite thing even if they don't do it. They have it on almost every single day.

Billy and stu probably tried to flex on Sidney and Tatum on the things you make for them and they were mildly concerned at the ghostface thing.

Billy will loudly look through your sketchbook in front of you, even though there's nothing to be ashamed of, it's like someone looking through your unfinished drawing sketchbook. (artists can relate.) stu will try to be a but sneaky but fails and goes along with Billy.

These men have no shame, and will proudly and confidently boast about what you make and how good you make it in front of random ass people you don't even know. Even when you're really embarrassed and telling them to stop.

These men will like anything you make and don't really have much to complain about. So they'll give a genuine thumbs up on pretty much anything.

They think the pin cushion is hilarious but make it horror themed and they'll think it's cool. They have no problem with you and dangerous objects and they think this is great for self defense.

[greenflavoredcyanide]

I Guess Blood is kind of Hot

Rating:

Mature

Archive Warning:

Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Categories:

Gen, Other

Fandom:

Boyfriend to Death (Visual Novels)

Relationships:

Strade (BTD/TNR)/Reader

Additional Tags:

Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Canon-Typical Violence, Nosebleed, Gore, only a little tho, Blood Kink, Sadism, Light Masochism, Kissing, Rough Kissing, Rough Body Play, No Sex, womp womp, Light Bondage

First time posting a fic here! Let me know how I can improve :3

It was a normal afternoon. As normal as an afternoon in this goddamn house could be. You don’t know how long you’ve been here, been kept here, but you’ve gotten used to the “norm” here. On Saturday afternoons, Strade usually had the living room reserved for his shows. He would sit on the couch with a few beers and watch whatever he wanted, it was his tv time. You were allowed to sit with him if you wanted to, but to be quite honest; you didn’t really want to. Not only were the shows he watched boring, but you didn’t really want to be seated next to… him… Even though you got as comfortable as you could get with Strade, he was still your captor. He was still dangerous, mean, and sadistic. He’s still the same man that has shoved blades deep into your skin, slashed you open, used power tools on you, etc… sure, right now he’s not doing any of that, he actually is behaving really normal right now, but you can’t just forget all of that.

You had your own room at this point anyway; it was small but comfortable. You spent most of your free time there. Either that, or in Ren’s room. You really liked Ren’s room, it’s colourful and comfy. He didn’t mind you being in there as long as you didn’t disturb him while he was watching stuff. You didn’t really care for any of the animes he watched, but you would occasionally watch with him when you were really bored. One thing that Ren had that you didn’t was a laptop. Strade doesn’t trust you enough yet to give you your own, you still had to earn that privilege. However, a privilege you did earn was having books and art supplies. You expressed to Strade some of your interests one day after he was done with work. You didn’t really expect him to do anything with that information, but to your surprise he came home with a sketchbook, a notebook, pencils, pens, and some graphic novels. These were your only other sources of entertainment. 

You were sitting on your bed, sketchbook open. Doodling some random characters onto the pages, when a feeling of unease washed over you. You felt like something bad was about to happen, you usually do. Maybe it was intuition, maybe it was gut feeling, but you were usually right. You paused your doodling and listened for the TV. It still seemed to be running a program, which means Strade was still occupied. You tried to brush off the feeling, getting back to drawing a character’s hair. With the free time you had, you often spent it making up fictional characters. Some were antagonists, some were protagonists, and some were in between. You had a lot of fun with them, making up silly stories to distract you from the hell you were living in at the moment. You were lost in thought about what personality to give this new one, when your door slams open. 

You jumped in your spot, yelping and spinning around on your bed to face the door. Your heart dropped as you examined the intruder; it was Strade. You gulped as you stared at him, looking over his body language. He was tense, hand still resting on the door handle as he stood in the frame. His chest was heaving, eyebrows furrowed, as if he just ran up all the stairs as fast as he could. To anyone else, he would look just plain ol’ frustrated, but you knew what that look in his eye meant; he was sexually frustrated. You felt worry build up in the pit of your stomach, worry for your safety. He came into your room, which means he wants you to help him, which usually does not go well for you. At all. 

“Get up, we’re going to the basement.” he announced, staring you down with hungry eyes. You paused your movements for a moment, evaluating your options. You really didn’t want to go down there. You know he hasn’t had any new play things in a while, so he’ll probably go really hard with whatever fucked up plan he had. Your injuries had just started to heal up, you didn’t want them to get replaced so fast… after you failed to move to the door, he spoke up again. “Don’t make me drag you.” you squeeked in response, immediately getting up from your spot. You didn’t want him to get the remote out, or pull you down by your hair again. You hovered close behind him as he led the way down, glancing over at Ren with begging eyes as you walked past him. You both knew what was going to happen, and Ren would rather it be you than him; which is fair, since you’d rather it be him than yourself.

After finally making it to the basement, you hesitantly stood in behind Strade. Usually you’d already be tied down or restricted in some way, but right now you weren’t restrained by anything besides the collar. He stood at the workstation, hovering over a few tools, probably trying to pick which one to use today. You gulped as he finally turned around with rope in his hand. You felt an urge to run hit you, realisation smacking you across the face. You knew this was going to happen, yet you walked right on down here! What were you thinking! You could feel your knees buckle as he approached you. “N-no- wait!” you pleaded as he grabbed you by the hair and shoved you to the ground. “It’ll be quick~” he coos as he ties your hands together behind your back. 

You attempted to struggle just a little bit, but he tied them really tight. The friction around your wrists reminded you of the first day you arrived here. You shake the memories out of your head, you’d rather not think about it right now. Before you could even really start to think of something new, Strade threw you down onto your back, your head colliding with the pavement. You groan out in pain at the contact, a ringing starting up in your ears as he pulled your legs and hips towards himself. Swiftly, he pulled out his favourite hunting knife from his back pocket and held it up to your thigh. You couldn’t stop yourself from shrieking in pain as he pushed the blade down into your skin, leaving a deep gnash on your upper thigh. You were surprised at how quickly he got into it. Usually he took it slow, he liked the build up of fear in your eyes as he taunts you; he must be really desperate right now. 

Before you could register it, he sliced again, this time lower. He continued to slash at your soft flesh three more times, huffing and getting off to your whimpers and pained noises. You expected him to do more, maybe cut your stomach or chest while he’s at it, but instead he tosses your legs to the sides and stands up. You look up at him through teary eyes, confused. I mean, sure, you were grateful he stopped so early but why? Why was he done? There’s no way that’s all- you were pulled out of thought as he yanked you up by your hair, earning a raw cry of pain from you. You just barely managed to get onto your knees when you felt a blow to your stomach. Falling backward again, you heaved, gasping for air. You didn’t even catch your breath before Strade sent his booted foot into the side of your abdomen, sending you barreling across the floor. Wheezing at the impact, you coughed harshly, a copper taste filling your mouth. Your vision was blurry with tears as you rolled over pathetically, trying to stabilise yourself. 

Over the ringing in your ears you could hear Strade laughing. Though, it wasn’t his usual sadistic laugh, it was more breathy; more desperate. You gasped for air as he tugged up your face by your hair once again. “You’d look so lovely with a beaten face, don’t you think?” he chuckled into your ear from behind. His breath was hot against your neck as he moved over your body, positioning himself to straddle your back. He pushed down on it as he held your head tight, causing you to arche in an incredibly uncomfortable way. Desperately, you tried to move your arms only to be greeted with the harsh friction of rope. You wanted to start begging, but before you could he shoved your face down into the cement. Really hard. You heard a crack as pain engulfed the entirety of your face, blood streaming down from your forehead and nose down to your mouth and chin. 

He lifted your head back up before quickly slamming it back down again. You couldn’t stop the noises from leaving your mouth, noises of agony. Your voice cracked as you let out a hoarse, loud cry. It gurgled in your throat as you heaved, trying to catch your breath. Strade was laughing again, this time it was his usual demeaning laugh, full of sadism and enjoyment. You could feel him get off of you, letting go of your head briefly so he could move around to your front. Once again grabbing your face, he examined his work. Your face was covered in blood; the skin in between your eyebrows was torn and broken, letting a generous amount of blood drip down. But that wasn’t what caught his attention, no, it was your nose.

It was obviously broken in multiple places, mangled and crushed. Blood streamed out of it like a waterfall, coating your lips and chin, dripping down your neck. Strade couldn’t help the tent growing in his pants at the sight, it was beautiful. The mixture of tears, blood, and spit gathering and your face alone was enough to get his blood own pumping; his face burning red. You stared at him with pleading, glossy eyes, you hoped this is what he wanted. You didn’t want anymore, you were out of energy. Your breathing was heavy as you were recovering from being winded, but his was heavy because he was excited. He couldn’t contain himself, this was so hot to him. He bunched up your shirt in his fist and pulled you in, slamming his lips into yours.

You were caught off guard, a muffled moan escaping you as he smashed his face into yours, he grinded against your leg as he moved his mouth with yours. You wanted to push him away, but your hands were bound together, rope burn making the skin raw and ache in pain. A combination of both your salivas along with your blood mixing in his mouth really got him going. To him, it was a complete bliss; this is exactly what he wanted; what he needed. But to you, it was too much. There were so many sensations happening at once, you were getting over stimulated. You wanted to focus on the kiss, but your attention kept getting grabbed by both the pain of your open cuts and by the throbbing agony on your face. You could feel Strade through his pants as he grinded into you, he loved this; thrived off of this. 

He pulled away, the both of you gasping for air. Still holding your head in his hands, he licked his lips, getting your blood off of them. He huffed, staring down at your still bleeding face with lust. Your eyelids fluttered, giving him unintentional bedroom eyes. Strade laughed again before pulling your face closer to his. You were expecting another rough kiss, but instead you were met with his tongue running along your lips. He then licked up your blood, smacking his lips as he lapped it up from your chin down to your neck. He moaned into the base of your neck, his face now covered in your blood. You couldn’t think, your mind clouded with too many thoughts and feelings. 

With the combination of Strade licking and sucking at your neck and his rough grinding, you could feel yourself get increasingly more aroused. Even though you were in extreme pain and discomfort, a part of you liked it. You liked the attention he gave you, how you made him feel so much just by simply bleeding. A fucked up part of you wanted to keep bleeding for him, to keep him on you like this. You were pulled back into your senses as the warmth of his mouth lifted from your skin. You let out a soft whine at the loss of contact, to which he chuckled. “Enjoying yourself too?” he mocked. You couldn’t stop yourself from nodding, pleading for him to continue. He hummed in amusement, running his tongue over his lips to collect any remaining blood. 

“I’ll humour you, since you were so good for me~”

[wheels-of-despair]

When she stepped into the room, your heart stopped.

How can a person this perfect exist in a place like Hawkins, Indiana?

Perfect hair. Perfect makeup. Perfect everything.

Except that smile.

It doesn't quite reach her eyes. They're beautiful, but there's a sort of sadness in those... you don't even know what to call them. No color you've ever seen could adequately describe the shade. You'd have to invent one. A new color, just for her.

You'd do anything to see those eyes light up. To see her throw her gorgeous head back and watch her carefully styled hair bounce and hear a genuine laugh bubble from her perfect chest and know that you did that for her. You gave her a reason to be happy, even if it was only for a moment.

Is this what love feels like?

And that outfit? It looks like it's painted on her. How does a person even get into something that tight? What if she needs help getting out of it? What if you were the only person around to help her?

Is she getting ready for a workout, or a magazine spread? You wish you were an artist, so you could take all these details and put them on paper and be able to look at her every single day. You never want to forget this moment. Maybe you could describe the outfit in detail to that guy who's always hunched over his sketchbook in the cafeteria? No. You don't want to share her.

She smiles at you and turns, and gives you a view of the back. How is this legal? Your jaw goes slack at the sight of that thin strip of spandex barely covering her magnificent rear as she turns to leave. No! Come back!

You could flip through a thousand Playboys and never see anything so erotic. You're afraid to move; if you move, it'll break the spell. If you move, the slightest bit of friction in your jeans might lead to something you'll never live down.

You are never going to recover from this. You stare at the spot she just vacated, hoping that if you concentrate hard enough, you'll still be able to picture her. The most gorgeous woman you've ever seen.

"What did you get for #14?"

"Huh?"

"Question #14? On the practice test you came over to take with me? Before my mom came in and blew our concentration by announcing she was off to Jazzercise? What answer did you get?"

"Oh… uh… not there yet. Sorry, Nance."

Nancy sighs and turns back to her own paper, and you stare blankly at the notebook lying in front of you. How are you supposed to focus on stupid high school stuff after falling in love with Nancy's mom?

Oops, did I forget the header info? Guess I'll just drop it here:

Nancy's Mom Pairing: GN!Reader x Karen Wheeler Event: A Very @corroded-hellfire Valentine's Day Summary: Mrs. Wheeler drops in on your study session with Nancy, and you are never going to recover. Song: Stacy's Mom by Fountains of Wayne Words: 500ish Note: Nope, not even a little bit sorry. 🤣

Stacy's Nancy's mom has got it goin' on She's all I want, and I've waited for so long Stacy Nancy, can't you see you're just not the girl for me I know it might be wrong but I'm in love with Stacy's Nancy's mom

[ashamedart]

I'm trying out my first (kind of) g/t fic on here ahaha I'm so scared

Things not seen (title may change)

Chapter 1: The Demon

… the bell rings. Oh. I forgot I was in school… it’s the last period on the day before spring break, and it’s… terrifying. I’m graduating so soon... I snap back to attention and quickly start piling all my stuff in my backpack. A few mechanical pencils, lots of books, a sketchbook and a writing notebook… I don’t need half of the things I bring to school, but I still want to. And I feel like I should. I walk out the classroom door, avoiding eye contact with my teacher and classmates, and into the crowded hallway, packed with noise. I practically press myself against the walls to try to avoid physical contact. Thankfully, I make it outside without being trampled by the horde. It’s at one of those temperatures that makes it a bit too warm with my sweater on, and a bit too cold with it off. I feel a hand on my shoulder and jump, spinning around to be greeted by Fiona’s grinning face. She’s always been bolder than me in terms of the way she dresses, her outfit consisting of a pink sweater over a short black skirt, fishnet tights, and combat boots. There are little things in her hair, stickers on her shoes, and pins of games and shows all over her bag. I could never just have my interests on display like that…

“Oh. Um. Hi.” “Hi!!”

“Are we going to the tree today?” “I would love to, but… actually, I came to find you to tell you something… I’m gonna be gone for the whole break.”

My heart sinks, but I put on a smile.

“Really? Where to?”

“Ireland! My dad’s taking me to see my grandma and uncles.” Ireland!? She’s going to a different country!? But I was looking forward to spending the break with her! I had basically everything planned! “Oh, wow! Heh, lucky you… when do you leave?” “Uh… sometime soon?” “... like, today?” “Yeah.” “What?? That’s something you have to pay attention to!” “I dunno, my parents’ll let me know.” “You don’t know when you’re leaving! Don’t you need to pack or anything??” “Oh, I already did, like, a week ago.” “Thank goodness, why didn’t you say that??” “Why would I, you didn’t ask.”

“... I don’t know, but it would have been nice.” “You assume I wouldn’t-” There’s a muffled pinging sound. Fiona pulls her phone out of her pocket, sighing, and stops the sound. She opens her phone and I can see her looking at texts.

“What was that?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. My dad pinged my phone because I missed some texts from him. Asking where I am. Guess it’s time to go soon.” “Already?? I thought you meant, like tomorrow!” “Nah, I guess it’s now. Hey, don’t worry, you’ll be fine on your own.”

“... I wasn’t thinking that.” “I know you-” Her phone pings again, and she has to once again stop the sound.

“Fuck, okay, sorry Mallory. I’ll see you when we get back, I guess! I’ll text you nonstop!” She gives me a quick hug and sprints off. … I’ll be without my best and only friend for two weeks. I’m not a very sociable person, but one friend was all I thought I wanted and needed. Turns out, it just means I have nothing to do when she’s gone. … what do I do now? Just… go alone? … I guess. Better than being home all break. I slowly begin to make my way to the treeline behind the high school. Even though I’ve done it so many times before, it feels… wrong, going alone. I walk down the slightly beaten path to the treehouse. I put ribbons in the bushes and trees to mark the way to go, but I’ve done this so many times that I don’t even need them anymore. I recognise each tree, every patch of flowers, the creek flowing through the path…

And there it is.

A giant oak tree with a large treehouse resting in its branches. There’s a woven swing hanging from a limb, a hollow on one side with pillows and blankets piled in it, a ladder leading up to the 10 foot tall door, as well as the platforms around the tree. It’s a big treehouse, with a high ceiling, a balcony, closet, windows, and trapdoor to the roof. I didn’t build it, of course, I just found it and repaired it with Fiona and her mom. It really is beautiful, I could just stand here for a while. But I won’t, I didn’t come here to stand here and stare at the treehouse, I came here to go inside. I move to grab the rungs of the ladder, but freeze halfway there. It sounds like something’s up there. I feel my heart skip a beat. Slowly and quietly, I ascend the ladder and creep over to the door. I have to cover my mouth to keep myself from screaming, and duck out of the doorway. There is someone in there. Or, something… it isn’t human… whatever it is, it has a humanoid shape, but is way too big to be a human. … it’s flipping through my notebooks. My blood boils over with rage, despite the lingering fear. How DARE it!? Without thinking, I stomp into the treehouse and look around, picking up a fairly large stick and hurling it at the thing.

“WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE!? GIVE ME THAT!!”

It pauses, and its gaze slowly shifts to me. I freeze, fear filling my mind as I realise what I did, but I try to hold my ground and seem somewhat intimidating.

“... th-that’s m-mine…”

Shit, I’m stuttering… it rises to its feet and approaches me. I instinctively back away until my back hits the wall…

“S-stay back!”

It continues in its approach, coming to a stop right in front of me, absolutely towering over me. I want to scream, run, shut my eyes, but I can’t move, other than trembling. It holds out its hand, the one with my sketchbook in it. … is it actually giving it back?? I glance between its face and the book in its hand, before quickly snatching it and stepping back. It also steps back. It’s huge, at least twenty feet tall, with tan skin, pink hair, and icy blue eyes with black sclera. It has a thick reptilian tail with a tuft of pink hair at the end, two small black horns, and I’ve caught glimpses of claws on its hands and sharp behind its lips. I have no idea what it could be…

“Is this your house?

… it talks. … I did not expect it to talk. Its voice is fairly deep with no real distinctive gender, but does possibly sound more feminine. I take a deep breath and try to talk.

“Y-y-yes…”

Still stuttering….

“Oh. … I’m sorry I was in here, then. I just smelled something good…”

Smelled something..? I glance over at the shoe box of snacks in the closet. Maybe it’ll leave if I give it something. Or at least be less likely to kill me...

“... my, uh… m-my snacks? Y-you can h-have some.. i-in the cl-closet…”

It walks over to the closet and takes the box down. It glances back at me before hesitantly opening it and looking through it. I cautiously take a step closer to the giant…

… it’s wearing clothes. I hadn’t registered that before, likely due to shock, anger, and/or fear.. but it is. A black cloak, jeans, boots, and… glasses. Where did it get glasses? Wait, where did it get any clothes that fit it? Why am I wondering this about it? … what do I think I should be wondering about it? It pulls out a plastic baggie of homemade chocolate chip cookies. I forgot I had those. I made them a few days ago. They’re a little lopsided, but still pretty good.

“What are these?”

… really? It doesn’t know what cookies are?? … it’s baffling, but it does make some sense. I don’t know where it would have access to cookies, being a giant monster…

“... th-those? Cookies? Th-they’re, uh, sweet f-food?”

It stares at me for a moment before looking back down at the bag and taking one of the cookies out of the bag and examining it. It hesitantly raises the treat to its mouth and takes a bite. Its eyes widen and I can see its face light up…

“WHERE DO YOU GET THESE!?”

Ow- oh wow it’s loud..

“I-I, uh… I made them…”

“You can MAKE these!?”

“Yeah? Just, uh, flour, sugar, sometimes chocolate, a few other things, and heat it up.”

“What’s chocolate?”

It quickly finishes the rest of the cookie. … it doesn’t know chocolate either, huh… how am I supposed to explain chocolate to someone that’s never had it? It’s such a unique flavour…

“Chocolate is, uh… how do I… th-there’s a box of chocolate at the bottom of the box somewhere… the big plastic-wrapped thing. .. brown.”

It digs through the box for the bar of chocolate, slowly removing it from the container. It glances back at me again. It struggles a bit, figuring out how to go about opening the wrapper with its large hands, but does get it pretty fast, tearing off the wrapper and biting a small piece off the corner. You could practically see the stars in its eyes, its tail thumping against the floor. I instinctively recoil at the sound, but… it suddenly seems much less intimidating…

“I think I LOVE chocolate!!”

“Yeah, it’s, uh… pretty good… you’ve really never had any chocolate before..?”

“No. I can’t really just walk into wherever you get it.”

… that’s… fair. A giant… demon thing (?) anywhere too close to the town would be a disaster… I watch it finish off the rest of the chocolate bar in one bite.

“... what are you..?”

“Wh- me? … uh… honestly, the best answer I can give you is ‘a monster…’”

“So… you don’t… know?”

“I’ve never seen another thing like me, and humans definitely don’t know what I am, so nobody’s ever told me…”

That’s… kind of sad… I wonder where it came from, what its life is like… I let out an involuntary yawn. Everything that’s happened today has been pretty exhausting… it’s probably starting to get late, too… I pull out my phone to check the time. The numbers across the lock screen reading 6:26. … it’s 6:26! I was supposed to be home almost 30 minutes ago!! No, I almost never come home more than a minute late!

“... is something wrong?"

“I-I was supposed to be home a while ago…”

“... isn’t this your house?”

“Oh, uh- no, I don’t live here. I guess it is my house, but I don’t live here, I only come here a lot. I live somewhere else. And my mom’s gonna be pissed that I wasn’t there half an hour ago…”

… it stares at me for a moment, then gets up and starts to descend the ladder. I don’t know if I want it to leave or not…

“A-are you leaving?”

It holds its hand up to me from the ground and smiles. … should I…

“Do you want me to take it..?”

Its smile grows wider. I guess I’ll take that as a ‘yes.’ I walk out of the doorway and glance cautiously between its face and hand. I don't really trust it, but... I cautiously place my hand in its much larger one. … it suddenly grips my arm and lifts me off my feet, lowering me down onto its shoulder. I let out a startled squeak and wrap my arms around its neck as my feet touch the fabric of its cloak, terrified once again.

“So, which way’s your house?”

“Uh… th-that way…?”

I say shakily and point in the general direction of my house. I’ve been here so many times, I know the way back. … is it going to take me there..?

“Alright, hold on!”

"wh-"

Before I can fully register its words, it sprints off in the direction I pointed it in. I shut my eyes and press myself against its head, my cheeks hot and heart beating fast, afraid to open my eyes and see myself falling… It’s terrifying, but… the cool evening air, warmth of the creature under and next to me, wind against my face and hair… it’s exhilarating… and oddly comforting… I slowly open my eyes, squinting them in an attempt to block out the wind rushing at them. It’s going so fast, things are rushing past me in a blur. I have so many questions and theories about it… I see my house appearing through the treeline.

“Ah- th-there! Stop here!”

It comes screeching to a halt, the momentum causing it to fall forward onto its face, and myself to fall off its shoulder and land in the dirt. I push myself upright  and brush myself off, looking over at the creature. It groans and sits up, cleaning its glasses off on its sweater. I softly laugh at the sight, and it smiles awkwardly at me.

“I probably shouldn’t go any further…”

“Yeah, people would really freak out, wouldn’t they? … w-well, uh… goodbye… I guess…” I don’t know what else to say. I turn and begin walking to my house when it puts its glasses back on and speaks for the last time.

“Emory.”

I turn back towards it.

“... what?”

“Ah- my name. It’s Emory.”

Emory. It’s a strangely human name for them, but it’s nice. It fits.

“Emory… it’s nice to meet you. I’m Mallory.”

They smile and wave at me, before slowly disappearing into the darkness of the surrounding woods… 

*******************************************************************

... wow. It’s hard to believe any of that just happened… I’m so tired… I turn back towards my house and prepare myself for what’s going to happen when I cross the threshold of the front door. And I approach. I stand before the entrance to my house, heart pounding. I reach into my pocket to pull out my phone and check the time again, as if I thought it might have somehow gone back. 6:31. … I steel myself and place my hand on the knob to slowly turn it, just opening the door a crack, attempting to sneak in as quietly as I can. The sound of the door creaking and clicking shut echoes through the house, seeming loud as thunder. I can already hear the sound of her green slippers stomping against the floor, approaching  from the living room, and wince. When I turn, I can practically see the smoke pouring out of her ears like a tea kettle. I flash a sheepish smile and force a small wave.

“H-heeyy, mom…”

“Excuse me?? Take this seriously, I was worried! WHERE have you BEEN!? You never come home this late without letting me know first!”

“I know. I’m sorry, I just lost track of time…”

“NO. You don’t ‘lose track of time,’ you’re always here early! So what happened? Why didn’t you tell me?? Was it that friend of yours? Were you at a party?? Did you do drugs!? Is there a boy!?” “What!? Mom, no, I hate parties. And Fiona isn't bad... I’m telling the truth, I was just reading and lost track of time…” I really hope I don't look like I'm lying. Besides, I don’t even like guys. Not that I would ever say that in front of her. I have do idea how she would react. She narrows her eyes at me, having to look up a bit. “Well. This is your first strike. I’m trusting that you’re telling the truth because I believe you’re a good kid who wouldn’t do that. But, you still got home very late, so no dinner, and get to your room.” “Yes, ma’am…”

I quietly begin to ascend the stairs to my room. I hated that. I hate that she treats me like a fucking child who can’t take care of herself. I know she loves me, and she’s just protective, but it can be humiliating… I slam the door shut behind me and wince, hoping she didn’t hear that. … thankfully, I don’t hear anything but my dad’s snoring coming from the other room. He tends to work a lot and sleep in. I feel kind of bad for him. … I might go to sleep early, too… everything that happened today has been exhausting… I flip the lights off and turn on the white noise machine. With all the noise from the other room, I need it to sleep. I climb up onto my bed, not bothering to change into pyjamas, just throwing off my shirt and skirt. I lie down and cover myself with the blankets, and as I stare up at the glowing stars stuck to my ceiling, my brain runs through today’s events. Was that even real..? My mind feels so fuzzy now as my eyelids fall over my eyes.

Ugh... I’m so… tired…

So I'm a very beginner writer, I'm not great at coming up with names, and I feel like this story might be too rushed. I am okay with and encourage constructive criticism. I am in love with these characters and they will appear again on here :D

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6.24.2024 ✦ I used to keep sketchbooks filled with little studies of coffee cups, leaves, storefronts, friends' faces. Then somehow the habit fell away, until my notebooks contained nothing but text—ideas that never left the page; plans, anxieties, perseverations. Those pages feel like stone walls to look back on. Journaling that way had centripetal force, pulling me into myself.

These days, I'm trying to revive those abandoned modes of visual expression—not separately from my journaling practice, but integrated into it. I guess I'm changing my definition of what journaling is in the first place—so that it includes collaging, painting, commonplacing, writing poems. I don't want to only look inward. I want to look at the world too.

These more visual pages feel so much more inviting to return to. The tedious, self-absorbed stream-of-consciousness is still there, but alongside it are observations I can take in at a glance, things that caught my eye, reminders of the tools I once kept closest at hand. It feels better.