#i will finish this doodle sheet... some day :)

[divinit3a]

about to be fired from faz moodboard

[bbyquokka]

nerd in love

– after a misunderstanding, jisung finally tells yn how he feels at his birthday party .ᐟ.ᐟ

pairing | han jisung x fem reader

genre | mutual pining , fluff , uni au – 18+ is strongly advised!

cw | she/her pronouns used ; mostly in jisung pov ; food and alcohol mentioned ; a lil suggestive at the end

words | 10.1k ~ ( 10,133 )

notes | well, here it is! i started this before my break (which is why its so late) but finished it during my break n i just wanted to post it bc im proud of this n i adore this version of jisung n the friendship dynamics !! :( don’t forget to leave feedback, reblog and tell me what you think here. i hope you all enjoy! ‹3

m.list — wips list — you can also read it on my ao3

dont repost. dont translate. minors, ageless & default blogs; dni! feedback and reblogs are highly advised and appreciated!

your pen taps against the white, lined sheet of paper that has a few scribbles and doodles on. your cheek resting on your hand as you sigh a little in boredom. 

the professor has been groaning on and on about the same thing. you want to listen and take in the information as you know it's important, but your mind wanders and you start to daydream; making imaginary scenarios.

you'd imagine an alien suddenly abducting you because it heard your silent cries of boredom. you and the alien would become the best of friends, the alien showing you around it's space shuttle and inviting you to have some tea and cake before making friendship bracelets – because that's what humans do, right?

other times, you'd imagine a strong, buff greek god suddenly turning up in class. he'd walk to you and take your hand, claiming that you're his long lost bride, before carrying you bridal style and off into the sunset where you two would get married and have babies.

so caught up in your fake scenarios, you don't see that another student is now looking at you.

the student is sitting in front of you–his usual designated spot. black hair that's long and permed and covers his eyes. glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. dressed in a button up shirt and black jeans, paired with a few accessories and black doc marten boots.

“excuse me.” he whispers, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “you're making too much noise.” he frowns.

you snap out of your daydream and sit up straight, wiping the imaginary drool from your chin with the back of your hand.

“o-oh.. sorry jisung.” you laugh awkwardly. he tuts and rolls his eyes before facing the front. you scoff a little and sit back in your seat.

you don't have very many friends in university, a small handful but it's enough and you don't have very many enemies either, but since jisung started the same class as you, he's been cold towards you.

he's not like this with other people, just you–it's like he can't stand you.

but for some reason, his cold, mean demeanour just makes you want him and find him even more attractive.

it's not a kink of yours, to be spoken down to and degraded. in fact, you love having the attention on you and being treated kindly and gently so it's unknown to you why you find him so attractive.

“alright class! that's all for today. you're all dismissed.” the teacher says. you silently cheer, packing up your things in your backpack.

jisung rises to his feet and swings his bag onto his shoulder, letting it rest there before pulling out his phone. you both catch eye contact with each other.

“see you tomorrow?” you say politely and smile. jisung quickly looks away and mumbles something before walking out in a rush.

maybe you're still daydreaming, but you swore you could see the tips of his ears turning a light shade of pink. 

────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──

“fuck, i’m so late!” you alternate between running and speed walking your way to your class. your alarm didn't go off this morning so when you finally awoke, it was up and out in a flash. “i'm so screwed!”

today is an important day. the teacher was going to go over a few things on a test that's due in a few weeks so you really needed to attend it to get an idea–but alas, here you are. hair disheveled, dried up drool on your chin and your socks mismatched with your backpack hanging off your shoulder.

you breathe a sigh of relief before stopping in front of the lecture hall doors. you take a deep breath and fix yourself up before reaching out to open the doors.

the doors suddenly swing open. the students exiting the hall. you stand in the middle of the students as they walk around you, engaging in conversations with their friends.

you frown in confusion, looking at the time on your phone. your eyes widen even more, bulging from the sockets.

“oh wow.. i really fucked up.” you were a lot later than you thought.

you look up to see jisung looking at his phone. today he's in a plain, black t-shirt and skinny jeans. a few chains hanging around his neck and converse.

“hey, ji!” you call out. he looks up at whoever is calling him before his face twists into disgust when he realises it's you. you ignore this, mainly because he rushes past you.

you frown and chase after him, trying to keep up with his speed–but he's too fast.

“hey! wait! i know you heard me, ji!!”

“don’t call me that. my name is jisung.” he mumbles.

“ok ok, sorry! just, i need help!” 

“find it elsewhere.” his tone of voice is cold towards you; like always. again, you ignore it.

“please, i’m desperate! my alarm didn't go off and i clearly missed class! i know it was super important too and–can you slow down and listen to me?!” you huff.

jisung lets out an irritated sigh and looks at you; phone in one hand, earphones in the other. he stops in the middle of the corridor and looks at you.

you bend down, hands on your knees to catch your breath. 

“you being late has nothing to do with me. it's your own fault for being late.” he says, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“yeah, i know.”

“you fucked up and now you want my help? how could i possibly help you?”

“i need your notes.”

“my notes? fuck no.” 

“oh please, ji… sorry–jisung. i really, really need this.” you pout. jisung groans and rubs the back of his neck.

“ok, fine.” he sighs in defeat. you're taken aback by how easy it was for him to surrender his notes over to you; but you don't complain. he takes his notebook out of his bag and hands it to you. you cheer and open it up, looking at the notes.

his handwriting is beautiful. his notes are easy to follow, however, you've come to the realisation that looking at notes isn't going to be enough for you to get the information to stick in your mind.

“make sure to give it to me by the end of the day. i’m usually at the library.” he says as you flick through his notes. “if you can't find me, find minho. he's my roommate.” 

you don't respond due to the fact that so much information is causing your brain to go into information overload. jisung sighs again and, as he is about to walk away, you grab his arm.

“wait!” you make a quick mental note of how soft his skin is and how muscular he feels. jisung looks at your hand that's on him, feeling heat quickly rise to his cheeks and his heart to thumb erratically in his chest.

“your hand.” he whispers. you lean in close to get a better understanding of what he just said.

“pardon?”

“hand. your hand. please remove it.”

“oh!” you quickly remove your hand from him. jisung clears his throat and looks down, hoping that his long hair covers his face to hide the blush that's happily sitting on his cheeks.

you see it though and make a note of how adorable he looks. you feel your own heartbeat skipping beats and beating erratically but you put it down to you having to sprint to class.

“i don't think this will be enough.” you start. he looks up at you. “the notes.. i don't think it's going to be enough.”

“well, there's a library and also the internet. there’s this thing called google, so use that.”

“teach me.” his eyes widen in shock.

“t-teach you?! fuck no, yn!”

“please, jisung! just until the test is over! i really, really need this. i’m desperate and, although your notes are so perfect, it's going to take a lot more than notes for me to understand it!”

“then ask the tutor for a one-on-one! or ask your friend!!” he stutters in shock. his cheeks are now bright red.

“you know the tutor doesn't do one-on-ones and my friends don't even take this class! oh please, jisung. pleeeaseee. pretty pretty pleeease.” you pout, giving him puppy eyes.

“yn…”

“i’ll buy you your coffee everyday for a full month.”

“... just my coffee?”

“what sweet treat do you like?”

“...cheesecake.” he answers reluctantly.

“then coffee and cheesecake on me for a full month!” jisung runs his fingers through his hair slowly, a soft, defeated sigh leaving his lips as he contemplates.

“you really need this, huh.” you nod your head fast to the point of dizziness. “you drive a hard bargain, yn. but fine.”

you cheer and grin widely.

“on some conditions though.”

“what?”

“we study in the library, you don't be late and we only do this until the test is over! after that, i won't teach you anymore.”

“yes sir.” you salute. “oh, do you want my contact information? might make it easier to set up study dates.”

“study dates?” 

“yeah! i assume we have different schedules due to different classes, so it's better to text or call each other so we know when to meet up!”

“true.. ok, fine. give me.” you tell jisung your contact information. he phones you and you smile as you save his contact information.

“thank you so much, jisung! you're the best!” you say before sprinting off to find your friend leaving a flustered jisung bewildered in the middle of the corridor.

“study dates, huh.. i kinda like that.” 

────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──

“dude, chill. you're just going to the library to study” jisung’s roommate laughs as he watches jisung scurrying around the place as he packs his bag. 

minho is relaxing on jisung’s bed, shirtless and in sweats with round glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose whilst eating an ice pop. him and jisung have been the best of friends since university started and he became jisung’s roommate.

since then, they've both been inseparable. many people speculate that something is going on between the two of them, indicating a relationship–minsung, they call them.

“i am chill.” jisung mumbles as he shoves in a few too many pens into his pencil case.

“yeah, suuuure.” minho laughs as he licks and sucks on his popsicle. “i’ve watched you run around the place like a headless chicken.”

“dude, please hush.” jisung looks at minho just as some sticky sweet ice drops onto minho's chest. he scoops it up with his fingers and eats it. jisungs sighs “do you have to eat that on my bed?”

“yeah. problem?” minho smirks

“yes. quite a few actually. you're going to get the sheets sticky!” jisung whines.

“not the first time i've heard that.” minho laughs at his own joke. jisung rolls his eyes but the corner of his lips turn upright into a smile as he holds back his laugh.

“you're disgusting.”

“yeah? and you're a mess right now, bro.” minho places the wooden popsicle stick on jisung's side table before swinging his legs around to plant his feet on the floor.

he stands and walks to jisung, ruffling his hair a few times.

“you're just going to study, that's all. it's not that big of a deal, bro. unless….” minho smirks and wiggles his brows at jisung.

“unless what? what are you implying, minho?” jisung says as he crosses his arms across his chest and raises his brow.

“unless you, oh i don't know, like her.” jisung's eyes widen a little and he clears his throat, turning his head to avoid eye contact with minho. “aha!! i knew it! you do like ‘em!”

“no, i don't. fuck off, minho.” jisung mumbles and rushes to his desk, messing and organizing a few things to ‘look busy.’

minho skips over to jisung with a smirk. “c’mon ji. we all know you've been smitten with yn since the very beginning. it's soooo obvious!”

“dude, please. i don't like her like that. and it's jisung–not ji!”

“ahuh. whatever you say, dude.” minho laughs. 

“plus, she probably doesn't like me in that way..” jisung mumbles before sighing softly.

“have you asked her that?”

“well… no but–”

“then how do you know?” 

“i just do, ok?! enough with the questions, minho. don't you have that media assignment to do or something?”

“nope.” minho says, popping the p in an obnoxious way. “all done, which means i am a free man.”

“no one is a ‘free man’ in university, minho.” jisung laughs. 

“ugh, you're right. even though one assignment is done, i still have a gazillion more.” minho runs his fingers through his long, shaggy hair. “speaking of which, i best start with at least one of them.”

“good luck, man. you'll do great.” jisung says sarcastically, paring it with a sarcastic grin.

“fuck you. good luck with yn, jisung.” minho turns around and walks out of jisung's bedroom. “hope you get laid!” he shouts.

“fuck you.” jisung laughs. minho sticks his middle finger up at jisung before laughing and closing his bedroom door.

with the last of his things packed, he zips up his back. he checks one last time in the mirror, fixing his hair and spraying his best perfume onto his neck. he puts his hand up to his mouth, huffing on it before sniffing. pulling a face, he grabs a mint and pops it into his mouth, sucking on it as he puts on his shoes and a leather jacket.

“it’s just a study thing. it's not that serious. calm down, jisung.” he mumbles as he laces up his shoes.

but he can't stop his heartbeat from thumping loudly against his ribcage and excitement to rush through his body. his excitement is so big, it makes him shake. 

“it’s not a big deal. she probably doesn't like you that way.” he continues to mumble in an attempt to calm himself down as he takes one last look in the mirror. a smile slowly creeps up onto his face and a small squeal escapes from the back of his throat.

“fuck! i’m so screwed.” 

minho hears this and laughs at his friend's excitement before putting on his headphones. if there's one thing minho loves, is seeing his best friend happy and over the moon. he just hopes he won't get hurt.

“cute.” minho says to himself before typing away at his keyboard. jisung leaves the bedroom and shouts a goodbye to minho before heading out to the library.

nervous doesn't describe how jisung is feeling. as he walks to the library, his legs start to feel like jelly and the urge to turn back strong the closer he gets to his destination. he hopes that you're not there first just so he has time to calm himself down.

he even tries to listen to music in hopes that it would calm him down somewhat. but the soothing sounds of violins and cellos do nothing (he even tried listen to a few seconds of whale noises but even that was useless)

“we’re just studying. nothing more.” he repeats under his breath as he walks inside the library.

the place is nicely decorated, modern with a hint of an historic touch. students at tables and little cubicles, headphones on and studying. some in groups, whispering as they do projects of various kinds. some making the most of how quiet it is to take a quick nap. the occasional rustling of snack packets paired with the occasional crunch breaks the silence every so often.

it's silent but it's lively.

jisung says a few hellos to some students he recognises (either from classes they take together or them being minho's friends) as he searches the area for you.

his heart thumping as he searches. he silently cheers when he can't see you because he has a chance to calm down, but, as he walks to an empty table at the very back of the room, his victory is cut short as he sees you sitting there; ready and waiting.

you have your back to him (and to everyone else) and you're hunched over your notebook. jacket resting on the back seat with your bag on the floor, by your side. jisung takes a quick, small peek over your shoulder to see what you're doing only to see small, quick doodles on the page from boredom.

his heart swells a little as it's another thing he's learnt about you. just when he thinks you couldn't get any more perfect.

“hey, yn.” he whispers only to realise that you won't hear him no matter how many times he calls for you due to the music that's blasting from your earphones. he makes a quick mental note of who you're listening to before trying to get your attention again.

“hey, yn.” he places his hand on your shoulder to which you jump at, causing jisung to jump at your reaction. you look behind you as you take out your earbuds, sighing in relief.

“jesus, jisung. you frightened me.” 

“sorry, yn. i didn't mean to.”

“no, it's ok. my music may have been a little too loud.” you laugh as you put them away and jisung sits next to you on one of the chairs.

“you know you'll get tinnitus if you keep doing that.” 

“yeah… i know. it's a bad habit but music sounds better loud, y‘know!” jisung nods in agreement before pulling out his notebook and pencil case.

you watch him lean down. you take the time to admire him. his hair soft and fluffy. you have to resist the urge to run your fingers through it. a faint smell of strawberries and flowers emits from his hair; a sickly sweet yet pleasant smell.

his skin is dewy and perfect; not a blemish in sight. a beauty mark sits close to his lips. it's a small mark so it's no wonder you never recognised it before.

you notice the way his biceps bulge and flex with every motion of his arms. the chains from his neck dangle a little and his aftershave wafts towards you and tickles your nose hairs.

“you smell so good.“ you mumble. jisung looks at you.

“excuse me?”

“you smell so fucking good.” you repeat and lean in close to him. your hair tickles his jawline and chin as you smell the skin of his neck. “what do you use?”

“...i–urm, i don't know. i just picked it up when i was shopping.” you hum and nod. jisungs soft cheeks slowly start to feel very hot. “personal space, yn. ever heard of it?”

“oh!! sorry. my bad. i didn't mean to make you uncomfortable.” you laugh awkwardly as a awkward silence falls upon you both.

jisung turns his head away from you so you can't see him but his cheeks are very red and hot as his heart beats fast. 

you were so close to him. so very, very close. he thought he was going to have a heart attack. he could smell you and to him, you smell so delicious and sweet; like vanilla cheesecake. 

“this is not good for my heart.” he mumbles to himself. 

“by the way” you begin. jisung looks at you. you slide a cold coffee and cheesecake in the middle of you both. “told you i’d stick to my end of the bargain.”

“i didn't expect you to do it so soon, yn. it's only the first session.”

you shrug. “a deals a deal.” jisung takes the cheesecake and coffee, sipping on it and humming softly as the bitter, cold taste coats his tastebuds and the caffeine enters his system.

“i didn't know what flavoured cheesecake you like so i hope it's ok.”

“what flavour is it?”

“strawberry”

“mhm, not bad.”

“you don't like strawberry?” you say with a small pout. he shrugs.

“it's fine. not the worst. but it's too sweet for me. i’m a vanilla kinda guy.”

“aah, ok. i’ll make a mental note of that.” you say as you tap your temple, laughing softly. jisung lets out a small puff of air from his nose. you see the corner of his lips curl into a small and that makes you feel like he's accepted you.

“now, enough chitchat. i actually want to be done in a decent time so, let's begin?”

────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──

“sooooo” jisung looks up at minho, his chopsticks half hanging from his mouth, resting on his bottom lip.

the smell of spicy, instant ramen fills the air. minho cooked some food for the two of them as they have both been studying hard for upcoming tests and assignments. 

instant ramen with a slice of cheese on top. rice cakes, fish cakes and other yummy goodnesss swim in the broth. the kitchen looks a mess, pots and pans scattered everywhere–it contributes to the rest of the dorm with the various clothing and shoes scattered around.

“soooo…” jisung repeats, eyebrows raised. his bangs are tied back in a pink hair tie (your pink hair tie), a white vest top and sweats on his body. minho is also in sweats but with an anime print t-shirt and a sanrio clip to hold back his bangs and a pore strip on his nose; getting tighter and tighter by the second.

“have you asked her yet?”

“asked her what?” jisung takes some noodles and a fish cake, putting them on a small, separate plate before grabbing some kimchi.

“dude.” minho rolls his eyes and lets out a long, irritable groan. “for being smart, you sure are dumb.”

“you're just dumb through and through.” jisung smiles playfully as minho sticks his middle finger up at his best friend.

“fuck you.” minho takes a rice cake that's soaked in the ramen broth. he chews it, the sound of sticky, chewy rice cake emits from his mouth. “anyways! have you asked yn about the party?”

jisung lets out a slow grunt. “not this again, minho.” 

“what?!” minho says with a shrug as he continues to chew and talk.

“i already told you, and eeeeveryone else. i don't want a party or anything of the sort, minho. i just want it to be a nice, quiet day.” jisung’s eyes drift to the half chewed rice cake that's being tossed around in minho's mouth. he pulls a face in disgust. “and can you please not talk with your mouth full?”

“you're such a prude.” minho rolls his eyes but swallows his food regardless. “anyways, you know me, changbin and chan won't let you have a quiet birthday!”

“yeah, no shit.” jisung rolls his eyes as he slurps on his noodles. he wipes his mouth with a napkin before munching on some kimchi. “still don't understand why you all decided to plan a birthday party without my knowledge knowing full well i said no in the beginning.”

“dude, you're so boring.” minho jests. “it's your birthday!” he emphasise. “you're supposed to have a party, eat lots of cake and junk. drink beer, hang out with friends and maybe, get laid.”

he wiggles his eyebrows at jisung and laughs softly. with a heavy sigh, jisung puts his chopsticks down.

“no matter what, you're going to go through with this, aren't you?” 

“yup!” minho obnoxiously pops the P. “plus, things have already been ordered and organised for it. we already have a few people who confirmed they're attending.”

“who?”

“mhm–” minho puts down his chopsticks and thinks, looking at the ceiling as he does. “felix from fashion design. hyunjin from art. seungmin from business studies and jeongin who is also from fashion design.”

“how do you know all these people?”

“well, unlike some–” minho's eyes widen as he looks at jisung, indicating he's talking about him in particular “–some of us actually get out. plus, chan is like a social butterfly and changbin is charismatic. put them two together and well, people can't say no.”

“yeah, true. i remember when they begged me to work on a track or something for their music assignment.” 

“they both practically dragged you to do it.” minho laughs.

“only because you told them i said yes without me knowing about the situation!”

“because i knew you'd say no! you have a talent for this stuff, jisung. don't let it go to waste.”

“thanks.” he mumbles, hanging his head low in embarrassment and awkwardness.

“is that… is that a blush i see?!” minho smirks.

“me? blush? for you?! hell no!” jisung frowns. “the ramen is spicy, that's all.”

“dude… it's mild.”

“...fuck you.”

“so, are you going to ask yn or nah?”

“if it gets you and everyone else off my back, then sure”

“good. make sure you do!” jisung opens and closes his hand, mimicking minho's yapping.

“yeah yeah yeah. can we stop talking about this party and eat?”

“just looking out for ya, man. i know how much you like ‘em!” 

“i know. i appreciate it, minho.” minho nods and continues eating the ramen. jisung, on the other hand, is now lost in thought.

how the hell is he going to get the courage to ask you something like that?

────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──

the study sessions are slowly coming to end. you kept up with your end of the deal, providing jisung with an endless amount of coffees and cheesecakes whilst he has provided you with an endless amount of insights.

one thing you have learnt about him is that he is smart. he knows how to do things with just a quick glance. he's good at explaining things so it's not confusing. 

you've been stuck on a problem for some time and no amount of teachers advice and youtube videos helped you. all it took was five minutes of jisung explaining the solution and it clicked.

today, however, you are alone in the library. jisung messaged you to let you know that he wasn't going to make it. you felt sad and a little heartbroken–you’ve become so accustomed to jisung's presence that you feel a little cold and lonely right now.

you can't concentrate. the music you're blasting down your ears isn't helping either. the text in your book is slowly starting to merge into one big splooge of text. the information just isn't getting through to you and it's frustrating.

you sit back in your seat and sigh as you take your headphones off and throw them on the table. 

“this is pointless.” you mumble. “i can't concentrate. maybe i should just skip it.”

you take your phone and browse through social media before subconsciously opening up the food app. your mouth salivates as you look at the various burgers, fries, pizza and sweet treats–and then your stomach growls.

“maybe i’m just hungry. that's why i can't concentrate.” you pack your things and head to the university cafeteria. the menu looks dull so you settle on a simple sandwich and drink.

the cafeteria is packed. the atmosphere is buzzing with the endless chatter of students. you take your seat and pick up your sandwich.

it's a standard ham salad sandwich with some dressing on. the slices of ham and lettuce (too much lettuce for that matter), tomatoes and other salad stuff squished together by two slices of thick, white bread, smothered in dressing.

you take a few bites. it's ok. it's not bad but you've had better. the bread is a little dry for your liking but the dressing takes that away. you open the cap of your bottled drink and take a few swigs to help wash it down.

“what do we have here?” you turn your head in the direction of the voice–that thick aussie accent you know all too well.

“ew. go away chan. you're disturbing my peace.” 

“charming. don't think that's something you should say to someone you haven't seen in a while.” he says with a pout as he walks to your table and sits down. he's joined by another man, a friend of his, perhaps. he sits opposite you.

“and whose fault is that, huh? maybe if you answered my calls or texts every once in a while.”

“sorry, yn. i’m just a busy man, y’know.” chan grins as he leans back in his seat, brimming with confidence.

“yeah. too busy being the campus whore.”

“blah blah blah. least i’m getting some.” he elbows you in the side a few times. “what are you getting, huh?” he jests.

“a degree? y'know that thing i came here for in the first place.”

“oh ha ha. very funny, yn.” chan mocks, rolling his eyes at you before stealing your sandwich and taking a bite.

the male opposite you clears his throat as a way of telling you both “hi, i’m still here.”

“oh! yn, this is minho. minho, yn.” minho's eyes widen a little and his lips twitch into a small smile.

“so, you're yn. nice to put a face to the name.“ he grins.

“you know me?” you blink a few times in confusion.

“i’m jisung’s roommate.” you mentally slap yourself. of course!

“oh my god. i’m so sorry. i didn't realise! i’m so bad with names.” you whine. minho laughs and brushes it off.

“and how do you know jisung, yn?” chan says with a mouthful of food; your food to be exact. you glare at him, daggers darting out of your eyes and straight into chan as you snatch your sandwich back off him.

“jisung’s my private tutor as of right now.”

“oh.” chan nods before his eyes suddenly light up. he looks at minho for confirmation. “wait, hold up.”

minho nods and smirks. “nah. really?!” you watch the two men talk in code as they communicate by facial expressions and a stings of “ohs” and “yeahs”

“uh, hello. i’m still here!” minho laughs softly.

“sorry, yn.” you shrug it off and eat your sandwich. “how do you two know each other by the way. chan has never mentioned you before.”

“good. keep it that way.” you say coldly, mainly aiming it at chan. chan pouts and nuzzles into you, head on shoulder. he looks at you with puppy eyes and a pout.

“aww. don't be like that, bestie. you secretly love me.” you flick his forehead.

“me and chan are childhood friends. haven't been able to get rid of him since.” chan smiles at your sweet implication. “he's like a parasite. or a fruit fly in the summer.” his smile drops and now, it's your turn to give chan a big, sarcastic grin–teeth and all.

“rude.” he mumbles. you shrug and finish off your sandwich. 

“so, jisung is your tutor.” minho speaks. you nod.  “are you attending his party?” 

“party? what party?” you look at chan and minho. minho sighs a little and runs his fingers through his hair.

“i warned him.” he mumbles under his breath in irritation before looking at you and smiling softly. “me, chan and a few others are organising a birthday party for jisung.”

“his birthday is coming up?!” your eyes widen. “when? i should get him a gift”

“14th.”

“14th?! that's pretty soon.” you mumble.

“jisung told me he would invite you.” you shake your head no. minho rubs the back of his neck. “well, this is awkward.” 

“it’s ok. maybe he has his reasons as to why he didn't mention it to me. no biggie.” you say with a smile. minho nods before a few minutes of silence dawn upon the three of you.

“out of curiosity.” you break the silence. “how is jisung in general?” minho tilts his head to the side. “it's just he seems so….” you think for a second, thinking of the right (and nice) word to use “... cold towards me.”

“cold?” 

“mhm. he seems so bitter towards me and i don't know why. we barely even talked in class but when we did, he would always tell me i’m making too much noise and to hush.” you slowly start to feel slightly irritated. 

“jisung is fine with me.” he says with a. shrug. “he's pretty chill around me.” you huff.

“i know he can be friendly because whenever i see him in the corridors talking to someone, he smiles and is so friendly!”

“what’s he likes now, yn?”

“well, now that we've been spending more time with each other, he's… i don't know… avoiding me to some degree? he won't make eye contact with me. he doesn't like it when i touch him.”

chan raises his brow and looks at minho, both men thinking the same thing. chan puts you in a gentle headlock and ruffles your hair.

“hey!! get off me!!” you push chan a few times, using all your strength to make him release you.

“you're pretty naive, yn.” chan laughs, continuing to ruffle your hair. he ignores your screams and yells, minho laughing at the two of you.

finally, chan let's you go. you push him with all the strength you have left before fixing your hair and glaring at him. chan pouts and nuzzles into you once again.

“i’m sorry, yn. forgive me?” he puckers his lips and makes kissing noises, edging closer and closer to you. you hold him at arm's length.

“ok ok!! just quit doing that!!” chan laughs and pats your head gently.

as fast as he was in the cafeteria, jisung is soon out of it after seeing you and chan, with nothing but festering jealousy in his stomach.

────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──

you bounce through the library to your designated spot at the very back, coffee and cheesecake in each hand with your bag swinging on your shoulder.

jisung is there, punctual, as always. but something seems a little off. the air around him seems thick and suffocating–dark even. 

“hey!” your cheerful voice ringing in his ears, making his heart beat fast. you sit next to him and slide over the coffee and cheesecake.

today he's dressed in a yellow and orange flannel shirt and white tank-top. black jeans and boots to accommodate. a few of his nails are painted in black, chipping from wear and tear.

he gives you a cold nod of the head. you frown a little but choose to ignore it as you take your books and pens out of your bag.

“so, what's the plan for today?” jisung shrugs. “...ok, well how about we go over that question i was struggling with?”

“k” he reluctantly moves closer to you. the scent of cinnamon and vanilla wafts towards you and tickles your nostrils, making you let out a small hum of satisfaction.

“you smell good, jisung.”

“mhm, thanks.” you let out a silent sigh. something is wrong with him and you don't know why. is it something you've done? something you haven't done? 

jisung is being very dry and sour with you. his usual method of teaching you is that he would go into detail and repeat until you'd understand it, today, however, he's very short and sharp.

“i don't understand.” you say. jisung sighs, a long irritated sigh. you bite your lip, thinking that you've done something to hurt him in any possible way.

“what don't you get?”

“all of it…” he sighs again and rubs his face. his eyebrows furrow together in irritation. the jealousy he is feeling in his stomach is festering, becoming more and more intense.

every time he looks at you, he is reminded of the way you and chan were together. he hates that. how could you fall for someone like chan? he thought you were better than that. his head swimming with negative and harsh thoughts.

before he can stop himself, the words just spill without any control. “why don't you get chan to do it for you.”

you blink. “chan? what does he have to do with this?”

“i mean, you two are close are you not?”

“i mean.. well, yeah, i guess.” you shrug. “he does get on my nerves sometimes though. he is such a pain! but he's a good gu–”

“i thought you were better than that, yn.’ he spits.

“the fuck is that supposed to mean?” you feel the bubbling of rage in your stomach as you stare at jisung, who stares at you back. the jealousy has consumed his body and it's too late to back out now.

“as in, i thought you had standards. chan? of all people? he's a whore, yn. everyone knows that he sleeps around on campus and you chose him?!”

“i don't appreciate the way you're talking about him, jisung.”

“it’s the truth, yn! and you know it so why are you with him?! you can do sooo much better than him!!”

“oh yeah?” you challenge. “then who is good for me, mhm? please, enlighten me?” 

jisung freezes. he looks away and chews his bottom lip. you scoff and pack your things in a hurry.

“i don't have to listen to this bullshit. you've been in a shit mood with me this whole time, which is fine. everyone has bad days. what's not ok, however, is you taking it out on me and bad mouthing the people i care about.” you stand up, swinging your bag onto your shoulder. jisung stares at one spot of the desk, burning holes into it. “text me when you're in a better mood.”

you walk out, leaving jisung to think about what he has just done.

────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──

“jisunggggg. sungieeee. knock, knock. let me innn!” the sound of minho's high-pitched, cheery voice irritates jisung to the bone. he lets out a slow and irritated groan, hot puffs of air slowly exhaling from his nostrils.

he pushes his glasses up his nose and runs his fingers through his unwashed hair. sitting at his desk in the same baggy band t-shirt and sweats from a few days ago, he checks his phone for the nth time, only to be disappointed.

he hasn't spoken to you nor seen you since that day. in class, it's worse. he's tried to catch your eye a few times, smiling when he does, only for you to turn away. he spent days loathing in his own self pity, locking himself up in his room and only coming out for food, bathroom breaks and class.

minho has had enough. not only is jisung's mood ruining the atmosphere, but minho has no idea as to what happened that day. he was home when jisung came back to the dorm, looking like he was on the verge of tears. 

when he asked, jisung always gave the same answer of “mind your own business.”–and he has; for several days now.

“let me in, jisung.” the repetitive sounds of minho's knuckles against the wood door cause jisung's stomach to bubble more intensely with anger–until he finally snaps.

he rushes to the door and swings it open, brows furrowed together. minho's smug grin makes him foam at the mouth.

“what part of leave me alone don't you understand, minho?” jisung's words dripping with poison. minho shrugs it off.

“all of it.” he pushes past jisung, making himself at home in his bedroom. jisung has no time to protest, all he can do is watch his best friend jump on his bed and rest on his back, arms behind his head.

with a heavy sigh, jisung walks back to his desk. he turns his back on him, hoping that if he ignores his friend, he will get bored and eventually leave. minho watches his friend pick up and put down his phone several times to the point where minho feels irritated by it.

“so?” minho starts

“so?” jisung repeats

“going to tell me what's happened? haven't seen you this down in a while.”

“nope. i'm good.”

“you can't keep moping around the place, jisung.”

“i can and i will.” minho groans and stands up, walking out of the bedroom. jisung mentally cheers only for it to be cut short when minho throws his jacket at jisung.

“put it on.” it's more of a demand than a sentence, but nonetheless, jisung obliges because if he doesn't, minho will force it on him.

“where are we going?”

“to the cafe.” minho puts on his shoes, jisung following suit.

“aah, dude.. i don't really fe–”

“shut up, we're going to the cafe whether you want to or not. a change of scenery might cheer your moody ass up because, to be quite honest, i’m tired of seeing your gloomy ass face.” he looks at jisung who is frowning at him. “in the nicest way possible, of course.”

jisung rolls his eyes before following minho to the local (and one of his favourite) cafes. 

it's a small, local café with an old fashioned sense of style to it. the tables and chairs are worn. cushions on the chairs losing their stuffing and the tables scratched and chipped. the décor is outdated, indicating that the café has been there for quite a few years; but it feels like home to some.

the bell above the door chimes as minho and jisung walk in. they walk to the counter and say their orders before taking their lunch and drinks and sitting at a table.

jisung takes a sip of the coffee. he feels the ice cold beverage trickling down his esophagus and into his empty stomach. minho munches on his chicken salad sandwich, watching his friend look in his drink and ponder.

“i fucked up.” jisung mumbles, lost in thought. the more he thinks about you, the more he can feel the tears threaten to spill down his cheeks. minho tilts his head to the side and as he is about to open his mouth and encourage his friend to continue, a familiar sound in the form of a laugh causes jisung's head to shoot up and look in that direction.

his eyes widen. he feels relief and happy to see a smile finally on your face; but then that same, the green monster in the form of jealousy parks itself on his shoulder and starts whispering in his ear.

minho watches jisung's jaw muscles clench. his facial expression goes from relief to jealousy. minho follows jisung's gaze and raises his brow at the sight of you and chan.

chan is being his usual, goofy self. he's telling you typical dad jokes and being a little grotest by telling you his latest hook-up details. you push him by the arm and roll your eyes, sipping your coffee in the process. chan continues to joke around with you, play fighting a little by wrapping his arm around the back of your neck loosely and rubbing the top of your head with his knuckles.

“i can't fucking stand this.” jisung mutters bitterly under his breath. minho turns and looks at his friend who is green with jealousy.

“stand what?”

“seeing someone as precious and innocent as yn be with someone like chan!” minho blinks a few times.

“what do you… jisung, what do you think yn and chans relationship is?”

“isnt it obvious? they're going out!” minho gives jisung a few blank stares and blinks before bursting out into laughter, choking on his own saliva in the process. “what?!” 

jisungs cheeks flush red with embarrassment but also with anger. his own friend laughing at his statement, finding amusement in his sorrows.

“are you serious? please tell me you're joking?” minho stutters through his giggles.

“dead serious.” jisung says, deadpan. “don't you see the way they are with each other? i saw you all the other day, in the cafeteria! chan's arm around yn and them being all…. lovey!!” 

“oh my god.” minho calms himself down. “you really are serious!”

“i told you! i even asked yn about it and well… it didn't go so well.”

“is that why you've been so moody and upset lately?” jisung nods his head slowly, feeling some type of guilt. minho sighs heavily, wondering how he can soften the blow of the news he's about to give his best friend.

“jisung…” minho starts. “yn and chan are not dating.” jisung's face drops.

“excuse me?”

“they're not dating. they're just childhood best friends. apparently they've known each other since they were kids. “

“so you're telling me.. that i got it all wrong when i saw you three in the cafeteria?“ minho slowly nods whilst giving a sympathetic smile. jisung sits back in his seat in disbelief. “why did chan never mention yn?! fuck, i fucked up… i really, really fucked up…” 

“oh, c’mon. it can't be that bad.” minho tries to lighten the situation.

“dude. i told her i thought she had standards! i called her best friend a whore!”

“i mean, chan is a whore. he knows he is and he doesn't hid–”

“dude, please.” jisung interrupts. “not right now.” minho shrugs and sips his coffee whilst jisung rubs his face whilst groaning. “what do i do?”

“well.” minho puts down his coffee. “you make it right. admit you were in the wrong. explain how you were a jealous lil guy because you like her and that you fucked up.”

“and how do i do that? she’s been avoiding me for weeks and it’s not like i can go up to her right now and be like oh hey yn, sorry i called your best friend a whore oh, by the way, i like you.” jisung mocks himself in a high pitched voice, his face turning red in frustration.

“you're so dramatic.” minho rolls his eyes with a soft, yet heavy sigh. “for a smart guy, you're pretty dumb too.”

“pft, am not!” jisung scoffs and folds his arms across his chest. “... only when it comes to stuff like this.” he mumbles. “i just… don't know what to do or how to fix it. i really, really like her, minho.”

“ok? and? what do you want me to do about it? there's no point telling me about your feelings for yn. i'm not the one that fucked up and then decided to hold myself up in my room to drown in my own self-pity.” minho says with a shrug.

to the outside world, minho's words sound harsh but to jisung, it's a reality check. 

he sighs softly for the nth time as he glances over at you. he watches you laugh and smile with chan, soaking in your beauty and the way you glow with happiness. 

“to make it easier for you.” minho breaks the few seconds of silence between the two, feeling a little responsible for his friend in need. “i may have mentioned your birthday party to yn.”

“what?! why?”

“bro, you weren't going to mention it! so i just.. did you a favour.” minho shrugs, a smug look on his face.

“... is she coming?”

minho shrugs. “dunno. she seemed interested at least but this was before you called her best friend a whore so–”

“that was an accident. i didn't mean to.. i just got too–”

“worked up? jealous perhaps?” minho says, or rather states, with a raised brow. jisung hums and nods his head slowly, teeth chewing on his bottom lip. 

minho chews on his straw as he watches his friend think. he can see the cogs turning in jisung's skull. jisung is inexperienced when it comes to relationships so seeing him like this, brings minho slight amusement.

“look, jisung. if she turns up, you approach her and apologise whilst also telling her how you feel.” minho holds his hand up to jisung who is just about to protest but is quick to close his mouth and listen. “if she doesn't turn up, you find her the next day, apologise and tell her how you feel. heck, text her if you have to!”

“dude… you know i can't do that!”

“ok. then you have the other option, which is to keep wallowing in your self pity and watch yn from the sidelines.” minho shrugs. “i don't know dude. be the main character for once. you clearly like her so take the chance.”

────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──

jisung's birthday rolled around. you haven't heard nor spoken to him since the argument so you didn't originally plan on turning up to his birthday party; but chan being chan is forcing you to go as his plus one.

“is this ok?” you smooth down your party outfit as you present yourself to chan. chan is sitting at your dressing table, dressed in blue, skinny jeans, a compression shirt that hugs and molds his muscles and combat boots. a silver chain around his neck, earrings in one ear and a few rings on his fingers.

he looks up from his phone and smirks playfully. he wolf whistles at you to which you scoff and roll your eyes at.

“looking good there, yn.”

“really? i threw this together at the last minute.’

“you look great, don't worry. you're gonna knock ‘em dead.” chan laughs.

“i really don't want to go, chan.” you groan.

“weeeell, too late. you're coming with me to this party, even if i have to throw you over my shoulder and carry you there.”

chan has heard about your little argument with jisung from minho. the two of them had a drink together during the week and chan listened to minho vent about jisung.

once minho mentioned the fight did it all come together. you've been feeling down and withdrawn, not knowing what to do or how to deal with your feelings. you've put on a fake smile and basically faked your way through the weeks–but chan has known you for years so he can see through you, he just didn't want to press you.

you'll come to him when the time is right; you always do.

“do i have to?” you ask for the nth time whilst putting on your shoes. chan laughs at your contradicting actions and shakes his head before standing up.

“yes, you do. it'll be fun and hopefully, it'll lift your spirits.” you pout.

“i have been a little moody lately, haven't i?” chan raises his brows and scoffs.

“a little!? pur-lease! i thought knives were going to spawn out of your eyes at one point.”

“mhm.. i’m sorry chan. it's just been a long couple of weeks with a lot of thinking.” you sigh softly. chan elbows your side gently.

“hey. let's not think about that right now. let's go to this party, have a couple of drinks and a dance, yeah?” you nod slowly.

“not like i have a say in this.”

“that's my girl. now.” chan grabs your hand gently and pulls you to the front door. “let's go have some fuuuun!!!”

────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──

it's loud. the bass of the music rings in your ears and shakes the ground beneath you.

it smells. the stench of stale cigarettes, sweat and alcohol tickles your nostrils and causes you to feel lightheaded and nauseous.

you've tried several times to turn away and head back but chan was always right there.

chan abandoned you to go chat up some girls so you're sat on the sofa, surrounded by people making out, drinking or passing out (if they haven't already)

you hold your red, plastic solo cup which is filled halfway with some punch. the smell is pungent and the taste is awful. it's too strong for your liking so you take small, delicate sips.

as the night rolls on, you have yet to see jisung. not that you want to but, it would help you feel some comfort and less suffocated to see a familiar face.

you glance at your phone screen. 11:20 pm. it's soon time for you to leave. you don't want to be here any longer than you have to and considering that chan has left you alone, you don't feel the need to be here any more.

you stand up from the couch to walk to the kitchen. you shimmy your way in and out of crowds of people who are dancing, talking or making out with someone that they won't remember tomorrow.

you pour your drink down the sink and throw away your empty cup. as you're about to turn and leave, a familiar voice is heard from behind.

“yn. hi.”

you turn on your heels and a sense of relief washes over you as you come face to face with a face you've been longing to see (even if you don't want to admit it)

you forget why you're so angry at him for a split second. his beauty never fails to make you feel star struck and silently go “wow.” but then you remember.

“hi.” you reply coldly.

“can i talk to you?” he shouts, hoping his voice isn't drowned out by the music.

“not right now. i was just about to leave.” you walk past him to leave. jisung grabs your arm gently to stop you. you look at him and he is quick to remove his hand.

“please? just… let me explain…” he chews his bottom lip, his brows scrunched together in the middle. you think for a second and sigh softly, nodding slowly.

“ok. fine. but make it quick.” you swear you see the corner of jisung's lips curl into a subtle smile, his eyes lighting up a little. he beckons you to follow him so you do.

you follow him outside. compared to inside, where it's hot and humid, the harsh, cold night air is refreshing and soothes your damp skin.

“look.” he starts as he stops walking to turn to you. “i know i was a complete asshole.” you scoff but don't say anything. “it's just… aah fuck, how do i say this.”

you watch jisung slowly become flustered. the tips of his ears turn red, his hands clammy as he shakes a little. he shuffles on his feet to shift his weight and avoids eye contact with you.

“fuck.. this is so hard… minho said it'd be easy once i get talking but fuck minho.” jisung rambles to himself. the anger you felt slowly disappears and is replaced with… joy? 

your stomach feels a little bubbly and tingly with excitement as you watch this nerd, whom you've grown so accustomed to, become easily flustered and shy because of you.

“just say what's on your mind, jisung.” you say with a shrug. his eyes flicker at you for a second before looking to the ground.

“ok.. well…” he takes a deep breath. ”i like you and i always have and the reason why i got so pissed and called chan a whore, who i later found out was your childhood best friend, was because i was jealous of how close he was to you and i saw red and i didn't mean it. in fact, i've been cooped up in my bedroom in my own self-pity because i'm a coward and i don't deserve someone as wonderful as you and i’m really sorry. can you forgive me for being a lil silly?”

you blink at him several times. jisung dared take a breath during his little speech so all the information that has suddenly been laid on you, isn't going through your head right now.

“ah fuck.. i fucked up again, haven't i?” jisung shakes, his voice wavering as it breaks the tension in the air. his nerves shaking his body as a shaky hand picks at the skin around his fingernails. “god i knew i shouldn't have said anything. why did i take minho's dumb advice.”

“i… i don't know what to say, jisung. it's all so much.” you say in pure shock.

“oh, that's ok! i’m not looking for an answer right now. please, take your time. i just wanted you to know my true feelings and why i acted out. the last thing i want is for you to feel forced.”

“so let me get this straight. the reason you acted out is because you got jealous of chan, thinking that we were dating?” you watch jisung slowly nod his head, his cheeks turning pink; whether that's from embarrassment or from the harsh cold air. “and that you.. like me?”

jisung nods again. “silly, right?” he laughs, trying to soothe himself of the raging anxiety that's heavy in his heart and stomach.

“no.. no! not at all. i think it's kinda… cute.” 

“cute?”

“yeah. i mean, well, being away from you has got me thinking about me, you and well.. us and how i feel.” jisung walks closer to you, closing the gap between you both.

“and how do you feel, yn?” you swallow a little. the atmosphere has suddenly shifted between you both. jisung is close to you, his body daring to press against you.

you can see every detail of his honey skin under the faint moonlight. the cold breeze sweeps between his hair strands. a faint hint of cinnamon and apple from his aftershave tickles and hugs your nose making you inhale deeply for more.

“at first, i was angry at you. i didn't understand why you were so angry. but i spoke to chan about it and during the conversation, he made me realise something.”

“what?” jisung encourages. he gingerly places his hands on your waist, unsure and testing the waters. his touch is as light as a feather and when you don't push him away, his grip becomes firm. 

“that maybe, i like you too and i have for the longest time. i just never realised it because i thought you hated me but, when we spent all that time together, i started to notice the smallest of things about you and i found them to be so cute. but they're cute because it's you.” 

you slowly run your hands up his chest to his shoulder. his breath hitches and body trembles from your touch. with more confidence, jisung pulls your body flush against his own, closing the gap completely.

“so, you like me too?” his voice dips to a whisper. you hum and nod slowly. “do you have any idea how happy that makes me?”

“why don't you show me.” you whisper against his lips, teasing him by brushing yours against his slowly and gently. they feel soft and plump, kissable even. 

“you're playing a dangerous game, yn. you have no idea how long i've wanted you.”

“show me.” you whisper again, furthering your teasing by ever so lightly licking his bottom lip with the tip of your tongue.

“fuck.” jisung groans. his lips crash against yours in a heated kiss that's filled with longing. your eyes widen a little but are quick to flutter close. you melt into the kiss, the both of you becoming synchronised instantly.

you tilt your head to the side a little to allow jisung to deepen the kiss. he licks your bottom lip and you part your lips slowly.

his tongue slides in to meet yours and you're in a battle of dominance that you lose. jisung's hot kisses make you melt and crave for more. you forget about your surroundings, forget where you are. everything is a buzz in your ears and you can only focus on you, jisung and how your body is tingling and twitching.

jisung is the first to pull away. he pants heavily, his own body trembling with excitement. 

“wow.” you hum in agreement. as soon as his lips are off yours, you want them back on you again; whether that's on your own lips or on your body, you don't care as long as you get to feel the softness again.

“is this real?” he asks.

“it's real.” you respond, giggling softly. “and i’m not drunk either so.”

“so, what does this make us?” jisung cautiously asks. he wants to have an idea of what you two are slowly becoming. he wants to make sure you're both on the same page.

“whatever you want us to be, jisung.”

“well, i want you to be mine. i want to show you off to the world, proudly. i want everyone to know that you belong to me. i want to spend every single second of the day with you and during the night, i want to spend every single second caressing your body from head to toe. i want to soak myself in every single bit of detail from your body. i want to drown you in pleasure and my love.” 

you swallow and let out a small, shaky breath at the implications behind his words. your body trembles with excitement and anticipation from where tonight is going to end and for the future with jisung.

“then.. shall we go ditch the party and go back to mine? because i want that too.” with a fast nod of the head, jisung holds your hand and is quick to make way to yours.

“let's go and let's be quick. i want to make you mine, in more ways than one.”

[regressionschool]

"First Steps" Introduction Class

An Excerpt from an Choose your own adventure story over at  CHYOA

After failing the Bodily Aptitude and Maturity Test (BAM)Rebecca has been reassigned to the toddler level, she has chosen to adapt to her new level immediately instead of a more gradual change.

"First Steps" Introduction Class

Rebecca’s eyes widened as she stepped into the cozy playroom, taking in the warm colors and gentle atmosphere that filled the space. Soft rugs covered the floor, and low shelves along the walls held brightly colored toys, crayons, and stacks of picture books. A handful of young women, each wearing toddler outfits similar to hers, were scattered around the room, engaging in different activities. Some were stacking colorful blocks, others were absorbed in crayon scribbles, while a few chatted happily with caregivers who offered gentle guidance and encouragement.

Nanny Malory placed a comforting hand on Rebecca's shoulder, giving her an encouraging nod. "Welcome to the 'First Steps' Introduction Class, Rebecca. All of these lovely girls chose to embrace toddlerhood, just like you," she said with a warm smile. "Starting at the toddler level is a wonderful choice.I'm proud of you."

Rebecca glanced around, noting the variety of expressions on the girls’ faces. She recognized the same mixed emotions she felt herself — a blend of bashfulness and curiosity, with traces of excitement showing through.

Directly across the room, a petite girl named Lily was seated at a small table, focusing intently on stacking blocks. Though her cheeks were flushed pink with embarrassment, she looked content, her shy smile growing each time she successfully added a block to her tower. Her fingers fidgeted as she worked, but there was a quiet happiness in her movements, a kind of acceptance that made Rebecca feel a little less alone.

Nearby, a lively girl named Ava giggled as she scribbled a rainbow of colors across a sheet of paper. She seemed a bit more at ease with herself, her eyes twinkling with a giddy excitement.

Rebecca hesitated for a moment before walking over to a girl sprawled on a colorful rug near the far corner of the playroom. Ava, as the caregivers had called her, was surrounded by crayons and an impressive collection of doodles. The young woman’s pastel romper clung slightly askew to her frame, its loose fit emphasizing the puffy outline of her diaper. Yet Ava didn’t seem to care in the slightest, her movements carefree and brimming with the unfiltered enthusiasm of a child lost in their world of imagination.

“Hi there,” Rebecca said softly, kneeling down beside her.

Ava looked up, her face bright with delight, her crayon pausing mid-stroke on the paper. “Oh, hi! Are you new?” she asked, her words tumbling out quickly, as if she’d been waiting for someone to join her. Without waiting for an answer, she grabbed a nearby drawing and thrust it toward Rebecca. “Look! I just finished this one. It’s a rainbow! Isn’t it pretty?”

Rebecca studied the crayon drawing, the rainbow’s colors slightly wobbly but vibrant. “It’s beautiful,” she said, a small smile breaking across her face.

“Thanks!” Ava beamed, returning to her doodles with a flourish of purple crayon. Her energy was infectious, her giggles punctuating the sound of scribbling. “I’ve been making a whole bunch of them. I’m going to ask Miss Heather if I can hang them up later. She says the walls here can always use more decorations!”

Rebecca found herself relaxing, sitting fully on the rug now. She watched as Ava switched to a yellow crayon, her small fingers gripping it tightly as she added a smiling sun to the corner of the page.

“Do you draw a lot?” Rebecca asked, genuinely curious.

“Not before,” Ava admitted, her tongue poking out slightly as she focused on her work. “I was always too busy with boring grown-up stuff. But now?” She paused, waving her arms dramatically to indicate the room around her. “Now I can just play and color all day if I want! No meetings, no laundry, no silly deadlines. Just crayons, naps, and fun.”

Her joy was so palpable that Rebecca couldn’t help but laugh softly. “It sounds like you’re really enjoying it here.”

“Oh, I love it,” Ava said without hesitation. She set down her crayon and tapped the front of her diaper with a satisfied grin. “And these? Way better than grown-up undies. No accidents, no worries, just comfy and cozy.”

Rebecca’s cheeks turned pink at Ava’s unabashed enthusiasm, but Ava didn’t seem to notice. She plucked another crayon from the pile, adding a few fluffy clouds to her picture.

“You should try it,” Ava said, glancing at Rebecca with a sly smile. “Once you let go of all the grown-up stuff, it’s so much easier. Plus, the caregivers here are super nice. They make sure you’re always comfy and happy.”

Rebecca nodded slowly, Ava’s words sticking with her. Maybe there really was something freeing about letting go, about not overthinking every little thing.

As Ava finished her drawing, she held it up proudly for Rebecca to see. “Ta-da! What do you think?”

“It’s wonderful,” Rebecca said sincerely.

“Wanna color with me?” Ava asked, pushing a pile of crayons toward Rebecca with a playful nudge. “It’s way more fun with a friend.”

Rebecca carefully set her crayon down, tilting her head as she examined her finished drawing. A tall tree stretched upward on the paper, its branches wide and strong. From one of the branches hung a simple swing, swaying gently in an imagined breeze. She smiled softly, pleased with the outcome, even if it was a little wobbly in places.

Ava, sprawled beside her, leaned closer to peek at the picture. Her romper shifted as she moved, and Rebecca couldn’t help but notice the soft crinkle accompanying the motion. “That’s so good!” Ava exclaimed, her voice brimming with enthusiasm. She pointed at the swing, her finger nearly smudging the crayon. “I wanna swing there!”

Rebecca chuckled nervously. “Thanks. I just… thought it looked peaceful.”

Ava nodded fervently, her energy almost tangible as she shifted again, bouncing slightly in place. A faint hissing sound broke through the quiet moment, and Rebecca’s eyes darted to Ava’s face. Ava didn’t seem to notice—or perhaps she simply didn’t care. Her smile remained as bright as ever, her attention fully on the drawing.

Before Rebecca could process what she had heard, Mrs. Mallory’s warm presence arrived behind them. “Oh, my goodness, Rebecca,” the caregiver cooed, bending down to inspect the drawing. “What a lovely picture! You’ve captured such a sweet scene.” She reached out to gently lift the paper, holding it up for a better look.

Rebecca’s cheeks flushed pink as Mrs. Mallory beamed. “This would look perfect on our art wall!”

Ava clapped her hands excitedly, the crinkling sound punctuating her movements. “Yes! It’s so pretty! Hang it up, hang it up!” she chirped, bouncing slightly in place again.

Mrs. Mallory chuckled, clearly delighted by their enthusiasm. She turned to Rebecca, her smile softening. “What do you think, sweetheart? Shall we display it for everyone to see?”

Rebecca hesitated, glancing between Mrs. Mallory and Ava. “Um… sure,” she said shyly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

Mrs. Mallory gave an approving nod and strode to the corkboard at the front of the room, carefully pinning the drawing in a central spot. “There we go,” she said, stepping back to admire it. “Doesn’t that look wonderful?”

Ava nodded vigorously, practically bouncing off the rug in excitement. Rebecca couldn’t help but smile, even as her cheeks burned with embarrassment.

Before anyone could comment further, the door to the playroom opened, and a tall man entered, carrying a stack of brightly colored books. His striped sweater and glasses gave him an approachable, friendly air. He clapped his hands once, drawing the room’s attention.

“Good morning, everyone!” he said cheerfully, his voice filling the space. “It’s time to settle down and get ready for our morning lesson.”

Rebecca’s stomach fluttered with a mix of nerves and curiosity as the room began to quiet.

Mr. Teacher’s warm gaze settled on the group, and he clapped his hands gently, the sound drawing their full attention. “Good girls,” he said, his tone dripping with approval. “Good, smart girls who know how to let go of the things that don’t matter. You’ve made the right choice, embracing your new role and letting your caregivers take care of you. And most importantly,” his eyes twinkled as he gestured toward them, “choosing to wear your diapers proudly.”

Rebecca felt her cheeks flush a deep pink, her gaze dropping to the soft rug beneath her. Something about the way he said it made her stomach flutter—not quite embarrassment, not quite pride, but something in between. She shifted slightly, the quiet crinkle beneath her romper reminding her of the change she’d so recently accepted.

“And some of you,” Mr. Teacher continued, his smile broadening as he glanced around the room, “are already excelling.” His eyes landed on Ava, who was sitting with a wide grin, her posture relaxed and carefree. “Ava, you’re a shining example.”

Ava blinked, then lit up, practically glowing under his praise. “Me?” she asked, her voice high and sweet with surprise, though her hands clapped together in delight.

“That’s right,” Mr. Teacher said with a nod. “You’ve embraced everything this transition has to offer. And I can tell you’re already making the most of it.” He paused, his voice dropping slightly, as if sharing a secret. “In fact, I can tell you’re already a little soggy. That’s exactly what I want to see—a girl who’s so comfortable and confident, she uses her diaper without a second thought.”

Ava’s grin widened, and she shifted in her seat, clearly proud of herself. “Thank you, Mr. Teacher!” she chirped, sitting up straighter, her puffed-out chest practically radiating pride. “I just thought… why wait?”

The room erupted into a soft murmur of giggles and whispers, some of the girls nodding in agreement, others blushing and glancing nervously at their laps. Rebecca couldn’t help but glance sideways at Ava, a mixture of surprise and admiration bubbling inside her. How did he know? She didn’t see Ava move or do anything obvious, yet Mr. Teacher had pointed it out like it was the simplest thing in the world.

Rebecca’s heart raced as she stole a glance at Mr. Teacher, wondering if he would turn his attention to her next. The thought both thrilled and terrified her. A small voice in her mind whispered that maybe, just maybe, she wanted that same approval—even if the idea made her squirm.

Rebecca sat on the soft rug near the back, her cheeks already warm with unease. She glanced briefly at the others, noting how unfamiliar everyone seemed with one another. Some sat quietly, fidgeting with their clothes or hair, while others focused intently on Mr. Teacher’s words.

“Using your diapers isn’t just practical,” Mr. Teacher continued, his voice calm but encouraging. “It’s a symbol of trust—trust in your caregivers, trust in your decision to be here, and most importantly, trust in yourself. Today, I’d like each of you to take a step toward embracing that trust. Relax, and let your body do what it needs to do.”

The room was quiet for a long moment. Rebecca’s stomach fluttered nervously as she tried to process what he was asking. Wet on purpose? Right here? Her thoughts raced as she lowered her gaze to her lap, unsure of how to even begin.

A few of the girls responded almost immediately. The quiet rustle of shifting postures and faint crinkles broke the silence, accompanied by soft sighs or shy giggles. Rebecca glanced up briefly to see their faces—some visibly relaxed, others pink with embarrassment but smiling softly nonetheless.

Rebecca, on the other hand, couldn’t seem to let go. She closed her eyes, willing herself to relax, but the tension in her body remained stubborn. Around her, the atmosphere in the room grew lighter as more girls succeeded, their caregivers moving quietly among them with gentle words of praise.

Rebecca’s frustration grew as the moments ticked by. She shifted on the rug, her hands pressing against her lap as she struggled to focus inward. Finally, the tension broke, and her pee spread through her diaper. Her breath hitched as her cheeks burned—half with embarrassment, half with relief.

Rebecca sat frozen on the soft rug, her face still hot with embarrassment as the moment unfolded. Her heart thudded loudly in her chest, the sound almost drowning out the quiet crinkles and murmurs in the room. And then, slowly, it happened.

The first sensation was warmth, spreading gently through the thick padding of her diaper. It was unlike anything she had ever felt before—a strange, almost surreal mixture of relief and comfort. The initial rush startled her, and her breath hitched slightly as she froze, unsure whether to stop or let it continue.

She couldn’t stop.

The warmth continued to spread, soaking into the soft, absorbent layers that cradled her. The material swelled slightly against her skin, becoming heavier, snugger, almost like a comforting hug. Rebecca’s cheeks burned as she realized the quiet sound of her diaper growing wet, faint but unmistakable, might be audible to the others. But no one looked her way.

Her mind raced. I’m peeing myself… and I like it? The thought sent a fresh wave of embarrassment crashing over her, but it didn’t erase the tiny flicker of contentment growing deep inside her.

The wetness settled into the core of the diaper, the warmth lingering against her skin as the fabric wicked away the moisture, leaving the surface soft and dry yet swollen. It was oddly reassuring, the way the diaper handled everything with such ease. She shifted slightly on the rug, feeling the difference in its texture—a bit squishier now, a constant reminder of what she’d just done.

Maybe I’m meant to be here, she thought suddenly, her heart skipping a beat at the realization. She had resisted this idea for so long, convinced it wasn’t for her. But in this moment, sitting in a warm, damp diaper, she felt a sense of calm she hadn’t expected.

The faintest smile tugged at her lips, though she quickly glanced around to see if anyone noticed. None of the other girls seemed to care. Ava, seated nearby, gave her a quick, encouraging grin, her eyes twinkling with pride.

Rebecca sighed softly, allowing herself to relax into the moment. It was strange, unfamiliar, and yes, even a little pleasant. Maybe Mr. Teacher had been right. Trusting herself—trusting the process—wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

Rebecca sat on the rug, her face still hot and her heart thudding in her chest. The warmth spreading through her wet diaper clung to her skin, soft and heavy, reminding her of what she’d just done. She couldn’t shake the mixed feelings of relief, embarrassment, and—strangely—a flicker of satisfaction.

“Becky,” Mr. Teacher’s voice broke through her thoughts as he approached. She glanced up quickly, only to immediately lower her gaze when she saw his warm smile. “You’ve done such a good job,” he said, crouching down beside her. “You’re learning to pee in your Pampers just like a good girl should. I’m very proud of you.”

Rebecca’s cheeks burned at his words, her breath catching in her throat. “Thank you,” she murmured, unable to meet his gaze.

Mr. Teacher chuckled softly. “No need to be shy, Becky. This is exactly what you’re here to learn—to trust yourself and your diaper. And you’re doing wonderfully.”

Rebecca squirmed slightly, the squishy warmth beneath her adding to her embarrassment. She managed a small nod, but her face remained flushed as he stood and turned his attention to Lilly, who sat beside her.

Lilly’s face was just as red as Rebecca’s, if not more so. She sat stiffly, her legs crossed tightly as she fidgeted nervously with the hem of her pastel romper. It was obvious she hadn’t yet managed to wet herself.

“How are you doing, Lilly?” Mr. Teacher asked gently, kneeling beside her.

“I… I’m trying,” Lilly stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. Her hands twisted anxiously in her lap.

“That’s alright,” Mr. Teacher said with a reassuring smile. “Sometimes it takes a little longer, and that’s okay. You’re safe here. Just take your time.”

Lilly nodded weakly, her blush deepening as Mr. Teacher reached down to cup the front of her diaper. Rebecca couldn’t help but watch, feeling both mortified for Lilly and strangely fascinated.

The room was quiet for a moment, save for the faint rustling of fabric and crinkling plastic. Then, all at once, Lilly froze. Her breath hitched audibly as her face turned an even deeper shade of red.

Rebecca’s ears caught the soft, unmistakable hiss of Lilly finally peeing herself. The blush that spread across Lilly’s cheeks was almost as bright as the warmth Rebecca felt earlier.

“There it is,” Mr. Teacher said with a broad smile, his hand still resting gently on her now-wet diaper. “Good girl, Lilly. You finally did it. That’s exactly what I was hoping to see.”

Lilly let out a shaky breath, her hands flying up to her face as she tried to hide her expression. “Th-thank you,” she managed, her voice trembling with a mixture of embarrassment and relief.

Mr. Teacher chuckled softly, his tone full of approval. “You’ve made a big step today, Lilly. You should be very proud of yourself.”

Rebecca couldn’t help but feel a strange solidarity with Lilly. Just moments ago, she had been in the same position—blushing, squirming, and uncertain, only to be praised for something that once would have made her want to crawl into a hole.

As Mr. Teacher stood to address the rest of the room, a girl seated near the front raised her hand tentatively. “Um… Mr. Teacher?” she asked, her voice wavering slightly. “When will we, um… be changed?”

Mr. Teacher turned to her with a patient smile. “That’s a good question,” he said warmly.

Mr. Teacher’s gaze swept across the room, meeting the nervous eyes of the girl who had just asked the question. He smiled warmly, his demeanor calm and reassuring. “Ah, that’s a good question,” he began, his hands clasped in front of him. “When will you be changed? Let’s talk about that, little ones.”

Rebecca shifted slightly on her rug, the weight of her wet diaper a constant reminder of her new reality. She glanced at Lilly, who was still red-faced and squirming slightly after Mr. Teacher’s earlier praise. Ava, on the other hand, looked entirely at ease, grinning as though she couldn’t wait to hear what came next.

“You see,” Mr. Teacher continued, pacing gently across the room, “you’re all here because you’ve chosen to let go of grown-up responsibilities. And that means letting your caregivers handle things like when your diaper needs to be changed. Your job is to trust them and focus on being the happy, carefree little girls you’re meant to be.”

He paused, looking around the room with a twinkle in his eye. “Now, some of you might be thinking, ‘But what if my diaper gets too full?’” He chuckled softly, glancing at a few of the girls who squirmed uncomfortably at the mention. “Let me reassure you—your diapers are designed for this. They’re super absorbent, which means they can handle multiple wettings before they need changing. You don’t need to worry about anything leaking or being uncomfortable. You’re safe, and everything is taken care of.”

Rebecca glanced down at her lap, her face still warm. The soft bulk of her diaper pressed against her, heavier now than before, but still surprisingly comfortable. She shifted slightly, marveling at how it seemed to manage everything without feeling overwhelming.

“Now,” Mr. Teacher said, his voice growing a little more playful, “there’s only one thing that’s guaranteed to get your caregiver’s attention for a change.” He paused dramatically, his gaze twinkling as he turned to look at the group. “And that’s if you make a messy diaper.”

The room filled with a mixture of giggles and gasps. Rebecca’s eyes widened, her face burning as she darted a glance at Lilly, who looked like she wanted to sink into the floor. Mr. Teacher chuckled softly and gave Lilly a playful wink, which only made her blush even harder.

Ava, seated beside Rebecca, couldn’t contain her laughter. She clutched her stomach, her carefree giggles echoing through the room. “Oh my gosh, Lilly!” she teased gently, nudging her friend. “Where else are we supposed to go potty? It’s not like we have a choice!”

Lilly shot Ava a mortified look, burying her face in her hands as she muttered, “Ava, stop it!”

Mr. Teacher smiled, his tone remaining gentle but amused. “Ava’s right, you know. This is your new normal. There’s no need to feel shy about it—after all, where else would a little girl like you go potty?”

The girls murmured softly, some giggling nervously while others simply nodded in agreement. Rebecca stayed quiet, her thoughts spinning as she tried to reconcile her lingering embarrassment with the growing sense of acceptance she felt creeping in.

Mr. Teacher’s voice softened, drawing the group’s attention once again. “Remember, your caregivers are here to take care of you. You don’t need to worry about anything—not about when you’ll be changed, or how many times you’ve used your diaper. Just focus on being the happy, carefree littles you’re meant to be.”

Lilly peeked out from behind her hands, still blushing furiously but managing a shy smile. Ava, meanwhile, continued to giggle, clearly enjoying Lilly’s reaction.

Mr. Teacher clapped his hands gently, drawing all eyes back to him. “Alright, my little ones,” he began with a warm smile. “Since this is your first day together, I think it’s time for a little introduction game. We’re all here to support one another, and this is a great way to feel comfortable in your new roles.”

Rebecca shifted uneasily on the rug, her cheeks still warm from earlier. Beside her, Lilly fidgeted with the hem of her romper, while Ava sat up straighter, a playful grin spreading across her face.

Mr. Teacher continued, his tone light and encouraging. “One by one, I’d like each of you to stand up, tell us your name, your favorite animal, and your biological age. But remember,” he added with a twinkle in his eye, “you have to say it in your best baby talk. Then,” he said, pacing slowly, “you’ll show off your diaper and tell us why it’s ‘comfy,’ ‘cute,’ or ‘better than panties.’”

Rebecca’s face turned a deep red, and a soft murmur spread through the group. Mr. Teacher chuckled. “Oh, don’t worry, little ones. There’s no right or wrong answer, and your caregivers will be right here to cheer you on.”

“And,” he added with a knowing smile, “you’ll end by telling us what you’ve done in your diaper—whether you’re dry, wet, or… otherwise. Just use your simple, sweet little words, like the good girls you are.”

Lilly’s face was bright red as she peeked over at Ava, who giggled again and whispered teasingly, “Lilly, what are you gonna say? ‘Lilly go pee-pee?’” Lilly covered her face, clearly mortified, while Ava rocked back and forth with laughter.

“Now, now, Ava,” Mr. Teacher said with a mock-stern tone, his eyes twinkling. “Let’s be kind to our friends. Remember, this is about supporting each other.”

Ava nodded, still grinning. Rebecca’s heart pounded in her chest. She wasn’t sure if she could do this—stand in front of everyone, speak in baby talk, and talk about her wet diaper—but the warm, encouraging presence of Mr. Teacher and the caregivers gave her a small glimmer of courage.

Mr. Teacher scanned the room, his smile broad and inviting. “Now, who wants to go first?”

Ava, clearly unable to contain her excitement, wiggled in place and shot her hand into the air again. “Me, me, me!” she said, her voice high and eager, the playful lisp in her words already making her sound like the toddler she had embraced being.

Mr. Teacher smiled warmly. “Alright, Ava,” he said, gesturing for her to stand. “Since you’re so eager, why don’t you go first? Show the other girls how it’s done.”

With an audible crinkle, Ava climbed to her feet, her confidence radiating as she took a spot in front of the group. She clasped her hands behind her back, rocking on her heels like a little girl ready to play.

“Hiiiii,” Ava began, drawing out the word in a sing-song tone. “I’m Ava! My fav’rite animal is a bunny ‘cause they’re soft and bouncy, just like me!” She giggled, her cheeks pink but her grin unfaltering. “And I’m twenty-four years old, but now I’m just a widdle baby again!”

The other girls giggled softly, some clearly embarrassed for Ava but others starting to loosen up, their shoulders relaxing as they watched her. Rebecca felt her own cheeks warm as Ava carried on without a hint of hesitation.

“And now…” Ava paused for dramatic effect, her grin widening. “Look at my diaper!”

With that, she turned slightly to the side and gave her thick, pastel-patterned diaper a playful pat, the crinkling sound loud and undeniable. “It’s soooo comfy!” she chirped, shifting her weight to emphasize the puffiness. “It’s soft and squishy, and I don’t ever have to worry about potty breaks again! Way better than boring ol’ panties.”

Ava’s confidence drew a mixture of laughter and applause from the caregivers. Mr. Teacher chuckled, nodding approvingly. “Very good, Ava. And what about right now? Can you tell us what’s in your diaper?”

Ava giggled again, her cheeks growing pinker but her grin never fading. She leaned forward slightly, lowering her voice as if sharing a secret. “I made pee-pees!” she announced, wiggling her hips with a playful bounce. “It’s all warm and squishy now.”

The room filled with a mix of giggles and nervous glances, the other girls clearly feeling a combination of secondhand embarrassment and a growing sense of acceptance.

“Wonderful, Ava,” Mr. Teacher said with a broad smile. “That’s exactly how it’s done—proud and playful. You’re setting such a good example for your friends.”

Ava beamed, spinning on her toes before plopping back onto the rug with an audible squish. She turned to Rebecca and whispered, “See? Easy! You’ll do great too.”

Rebecca’s stomach flipped, her heart pounding as Mr. Teacher looked around the room. “Now,” he said, his voice kind but expectant, “who’s next?”

Rebecca felt her stomach churn as Ava plopped back down onto the rug, her confident performance leaving the room buzzing with giggles and murmurs. Her face burned when she realized Mr. Teacher’s gaze was scanning the group, clearly waiting for the next volunteer.

Before she could think better of it, Rebecca raised a trembling hand. “I… I’ll go,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

The room quieted, and Mr. Teacher’s kind smile grew even wider. “Ah, very good, Becky,” he said warmly, motioning for her to stand.

Rebecca flinched at the name. “It’s Rebecca,” she murmured as she slowly got to her feet, her legs feeling shaky beneath her.

Mr. Teacher tilted his head slightly, his expression soft but firm. “Oh, no, sweetheart,” he said gently. “You’re Becky now. Becky suits a little girl like you perfectly, doesn’t it?”

Rebecca’s cheeks flushed an even deeper shade of red, and she nodded reluctantly, her heart pounding in her chest. “Yes, Mr. Teacher,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

“Good girl,” Mr. Teacher said approvingly. “Now, Becky, remember to talk like the little girl you are. Let’s hear your introduction in proper baby talk.”

Rebecca froze for a moment, feeling every eye in the room on her. Her hands twisted nervously in front of her, the soft crinkling of her diaper only adding to her embarrassment. She took a deep breath and tried to find the words.

“H-Hi,” she stammered, her voice shaky. “I’m B-Becky…” She faltered, glancing at Mr. Teacher, whose raised eyebrows urged her to try harder. Her cheeks burned as she forced herself to speak again, this time higher-pitched and slower. “H-Hewwo… I’m Becky…”

“That’s much better,” Mr. Teacher said encouragingly. “Keep going, sweetheart.”

Rebecca swallowed hard, feeling like she was about to melt into the floor. “My fav’rite aminal… is a kitty,” she mumbled, the childish words feeling foreign on her tongue. “Because… because they’re soft… an’ cuddly…”

The caregivers clapped softly, offering gentle encouragement, but Rebecca still felt her embarrassment bubbling over. “I’m, um… twenty-three,” she added quickly, hoping to move past the introduction as fast as possible.

“And what about your diaper, Becky?” Mr. Teacher prompted, his tone kind but expectant.

Rebecca hesitated, her hands fidgeting nervously. Slowly, she reached down and gave her diaper a small, hesitant pat. The crinkling sound was loud in the quiet room, and her blush deepened as she felt the warm, slightly squishy padding beneath her fingers.

“It’s, um…” she started, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Baby talk, Becky,” Mr. Teacher reminded her gently, his patient smile unwavering.

Rebecca’s voice caught in her throat, but she forced herself to continue. “It’s… comfy,” she said softly, stumbling over the words. “An’… squishy… an’ better… better than panties ‘cause I don’t hafta worry…”

“Good girl,” Mr. Teacher said warmly, his praise sending a confusing mix of relief and embarrassment washing over her. “And now, Becky, can you tell us what you’ve done in your diaper?”

Rebecca froze, the question making her blush so deeply she thought her face might burst into flames. Her voice trembled as she finally squeaked out the answer. “I… I went pee-pees…”

The room filled with a mixture of soft giggles and murmurs of approval. Mr. Teacher beamed at her, his smile full of pride. “Very good, Becky,” he said, clapping his hands lightly. “That’s exactly what I was hoping to hear. You’re doing wonderfully.”

Rebecca nodded quickly, her eyes fixed on the floor as she shuffled back to her spot on the rug. Her heart was pounding, but a small part of her couldn’t help but feel a flicker of pride at Mr. Teacher’s praise.

As she sat down, her warm diaper squishing beneath her, she couldn’t meet Ava’s amused gaze. “Told ya it wasn’t so bad,” Ava whispered, her voice filled with teasing cheer.

Rebecca ducked her head, her cheeks still blazing as Mr. Teacher turned back to the group. “Alright, who’s next?” he asked, his warm gaze sweeping the room again.

After a long pause, Lilly hesitantly raised her hand, her movements timid. “I-I’ll go…” she mumbled, her voice muffled by her thumb, which had somehow found its way into her mouth.

Mr. Teacher’s face lit up with approval. “Wonderful, Lilly! Come on up, sweetheart.”

Lilly slowly got to her feet, her body stiff with nerves. Her thumb remained firmly in her mouth, and she sucked on it gently as she shuffled to the front of the room, her diaper crinkling audibly with each step.

“Take your time, Lilly,” Mr. Teacher said encouragingly. “Let’s start with your introduction. What’s your name?”

Lilly hesitated, her thumb slipping out of her mouth as she took a deep breath. “I-I’m… I’m L…Lilly…” she stammered, stumbling over her baby talk. Her face turned an even deeper shade of red.

“Try again, sweetheart,” Mr. Teacher said gently. “Say it nice and slow, just like a little girl would.”

Lilly nodded, her hands twisting nervously in front of her. “H-hewwo…” she said finally, her voice high-pitched and trembling. “I’m L-Lilly… an’… an’ my fav’rite aminal is a beaw…” Her thumb found its way back into her mouth as she added, “Cuz they’re fwuffy an’ cozy…”

The caregivers clapped softly, their encouragement making Lilly’s lips twitch into the faintest of smiles.

“Very good, Lilly,” Mr. Teacher said warmly. “And how old were you before you joined us here?”

“U-um… twenty-two…” Lilly mumbled around her thumb, rocking on her heels as she spoke.

“And what about your diaper, Lilly?” Mr. Teacher prompted, his eyes twinkling. “Why don’t you show it to the group?”

Lilly froze for a moment, then slowly turned to the side, her hands trembling as she reached down to pat the front of her pastel-patterned diaper. “I-it’s… um…” She hesitated, her thumb slipping out again as she tried to find the words.

“Baby talk, Lilly,” Mr. Teacher reminded her softly.

“I-it’s… comfy…” she squeaked, her voice barely above a whisper. “An’… pwuffy… an’ way betta than panties… ‘cause I can go potty wiffout twy-ing…”

“Excellent,” Mr. Teacher said, clapping his hands. “Now, Lilly, can you tell us what’s in your diaper right now?”

“Good girl,” Mr. Teacher said warmly. “Now, Lilly, can you tell us what you’ve done in your diaper?”

Lilly froze, her eyes darting to the floor. She squirmed slightly, her fingers twisting nervously. Finally, she mumbled something so quietly no one could hear.

“What was that, sweetheart?” Mr. Teacher asked, leaning closer with a patient smile.

Lilly took a deep breath, her voice barely audible as she whispered, “I… I made poopoo…”

The room erupted into a mix of gasps and giggles as the other girls looked at each other, wide-eyed. Even Ava’s playful confidence faltered as she gawked at Lilly.

Mr. Teacher’s face lit up with delight. “Oh, Lilly! That’s such a big step!” he said, his voice filled with pride. “Come here, sweetheart. Let’s make sure you’re all taken care of.”

If you want to continue reading this story you can do so over at CHYOA. Also feel free to add your own chapters 😊

[creative-caramel-coffee]

The Spiders Sister - Chapter 3

Summary: Reader meets the team.

Tw: mentions of sickness, teasing

Words: 2.8K

A/n: Thanks for all the support this series has been getting :) If anyone has any suggestions for things that could happen in this series lemme know and I’ll see what I think. No smut though I don’t write that here.

The next day you woke to knocking on the bedroom door. Sitting up in bed you quietly called for whoever it was to enter.

A moment later Wanda poked her head through the door. Seeing you awake or at least semi-awake she slipped through the small space she had created.

“Good morning.” She smiled coming to sit beside you on the bed. “Did you sleep well?” She asked pressed her hand to your forehead.

“Mmm.” You hummed still half asleep.

“You don’t feel warm anymore.” She smiled at this achievement as if she was proud of you. “How are you feeling today?” She asked moving her hands to rest in her lap again.

“Tired, but that’s probably because I just woke up.” You smiled.

“Nat sent me to wake you up. She wanted to know if your well enough to meet the others today.” Wanda explained looking slightly guilty.

“I mean, I’m game if you are. Where’s Nat?” You asked coving a yawn.

“Nat’s training with steve. And not so fast, I want to know more about how you're feeling. No more headache? Cough? Wheezing? Give me something.” She grinned.

“My headaches gone, no more cough, maybe a slight wheeze I’m not too sure.” You begun and Wanda’s brow furrowed slightly at the mention of your wheezing. “I’m like ninety-nine percent sure my fever is gone, and I feel pretty good all things aside.” You finished.

“That’s good. Maybe keep your inhaler on you today just in case. And after the meeting I’ll see if I can get Bruce to give us a few spares, just in case.” Wanda said softly.

“You really don’t have to.” You said shyly toying with a loose thread on the sheets.

“Its no problem. I would make me feel better. Breathing is important.” Wanda teased easing your concerns.

“So, when’s the meeting?” You asked.

“Well, I think Nat wanted to do it as soon as possible. Like straight after training and then I’m going to make you some pancakes for brunch.” Wanda said poking your side. “But for now, hop up, get dressed and I’ll be back soon to show you where the meeting room is.” Wanda said, standing up and heading for the door.

Once wanda had left, probably to go and find Nat to call the meeting, you crawled out of bed. Rifling through your backpack you changed out your sleepshirt and shorts for a pair of black track pants and a pale-yellow t-shirt. Throwing on some goofy socks and lacing up your black converse high tops you braided your hair sat in front of the mirror and threw on some deodorant.

Once you were ready and had been to the bathroom to wash your face and go through your morning routine, you sat at peters desk.

Picking up your backpack you went through it until finding what you were looking for.

Pulling out the black sketchbook you opened it to a fresh page and began mindlessly doodling things you could see around peters room and the cityscape beyond the open curtains.

Just as you were getting into the details of the New York skyline you heard a knock on the door.

Lowering your pencil, you sat a little straighter.

“Come in.” You called your voice sounding better than it had in days. And surprisingly good for someone who had spent hours coughing and wheezing for days on end.

Wanda opened the door and smiled seeing you up and about for the first time.

“You look much better.” She commented coming to stand by your shoulder. “Wow, you’re an amazing artist.” She smiled looking at your drawings.

“Oh, um … thanks.” You smiled still a little awkward when it came to compliments. “So, what’s the news?” You asked.

“Hmm? Oh, yes.” Wanda said looking up from where she had been inspecting your sketchbook. “Nat called Fury. He’s kinda the boss. He’s given the go ahead if steve and tony sign off on it. Nat then called a meeting and I’m going to bring you to the room where you're going to meet the team.” She explained.

“I have two questions.” You said.

“Shoot.” Wanda said pulling you up and gesturing to follow her out the door.

“One, is peter going to be at this meeting?” You asked as Wanda lead you down some seemingly endless corridors.

“Yes.” Wanda nodded, pressing the button to call the lift.

“And two, this Fury guy said yes? Just like that?” You asked sounding slightly confused.

“Yes and no.” Wanda begun, stepping onto the lift with you beside her. “Nat asked Jarvis, Tony’s AI assistant to pull up all CCTV footage of spider-man and separate footage based on bio-signatures. So, she could differentiate between when it was peter and when it was you in the suit. She sent Fury the files and after he reviewed them, he approved you a place on the team. If you want it and the others agree.” Wanda explained.

“Okay.” You said slowly. “Seems like a good plan.” You smiled.

And the lift dinged softly as it slowed to a stop.

“This is us.” Wanda said and you followed her out of the open doors. Walking beside her down a hallway she stopped in front of a door and paused to look at you. “You ready?” She asked, her hand on the door handle.

“Yep.” You nodded swollowing down your nerves. “Ready as I’ll even be.”

“You’ll be great. Just be yourself and they’ll love you.” Wanda said and pushed the door open.

Nat was stood at the head of the table, a screen behind her queued up with spider-man videos. She smiled at you and wanda as the rest of the people turned to face you.

Seeing the people you had only ever seen on Tv in real life was a little overwhelming at first but wanda squeezed your hand and lead you into the room to stand at the front with her and Nat.

Peter smiled at you from where he was sat beside Tony. Looking proud of you just for standing in front of the avengers.

You stood there silent for a second simply making eye contact with your shoes before Natasha spoke up.

“This is Y/n.” Nat begun, and you gave a small half wave with an awkward smile. Tony was staring you down with an unreadable expression. He looked like he was analysing your face mentally. Most likely already having connected you to Peter.

“Hi I’m Y/n Parker.” You said lifting your eyes to meet a few smiling faces around the room a fair few of them sporting shocked looks.

“Parker?” Tony echoed sounding smaller than you had ever heard from his times on Tv.

“Y/n Parker is Peters sister.” Wanda explained.

“Kid?” Tony looked hurt. “Why didn’t you tell me there were two of you?” He asked looking sad.

Peter looked slightly sick at the open disappointment his mentor was showing right now and so you stepped in before peter had a panic attack.

“Mr Stark, Sir, it was my decision to keep myself out of the spotlight. And to do that I needed to maintain a low profile. Which is harder to do when the avengers know of your existence. No offence.” You explained. And the team exchanged a few glances as they noted how you had come to Peter’s aid almost immediately.

“That’s alright, I’m sure Pete will open up now you’re here.” Tony said with a grin as he ruffled Peters hair, “Won’t-cha kiddo?” He asked with his usual charismatic charm and Peter gave a small nod and smile while he ducked his head not liking the attention.

“So, anyone have anymore questions?” You asked drawing the attention off of Peter once more much to your brothers' relief.

Looking away from the small smile he sent you as thanks you laughed, seeing every hand in the room up with a question for you, bar Nat, Peter and Wanda of course.

You looked to your left and nodded to Steve.

“Hi, nice to meet you kid.” Steve said. “I have a question though, if Peter’s identity is secret, why did you need to stay away from us?” He asked looking confused, and his statement drew a few nods around the room.

“If Tony scares you honey, I can assure you that the man would forget his own shoes without me.” Someone you recognised as Pepper Potts said with a smile causing Tony to grumble to himself. How Nat had managed to wrangle the CEO of Stark industries into this meeting you didn’t know.

Little did you know that all it took was ‘There’s something you should know, it has to do with Peter’ and she was on her way.

“Actually,” Wanda said drawing the gaze of the room to her, “This should explain it. Jarvis play the video.” She said and the lights dimmed as the Tv showed a compilation of some of your best moves in the spider-suit.

When the video ended the lights retuned to their normal brightness and everyone still looked confused.

“How exactly does a compilation of Peter doing tricks explain that?” Bruce asked.

“Um…” You said looking slightly nervous. “That was me.” You said in a small voice and the room was silent for a second.

“Sick moves kid. Peter your sister’s awesome.” Sam said and a few people laughed at his perfect comedic timing.

“Prove it.” Tony said and you paled slightly.

“Tony.” Pepper said placing her hand on his arm and shooting him a look.

“No, its ok pepper.” Nat said. “Jarvis?” Nat called to the ceiling. “Was that peter in the suit for those videos?” She asked.

“The height and weight as well as body stature and proportions do not match Master Parker.” Jarvis said.

“Ok,” Nat continued, “Who do those body descriptors match in this room?” She asked.

“The person in the suit does match the body of Miss Parker.” Jarvis said and Tony frowned.

“Do the sticky thing.” Bucky called drawing a few smiles. You rolled your eyes and put a hand up, splaying your fingers before jumping in the air and touching the ceiling where you stayed stuck.

“Crawl around.” Sam said and you glared at his heckling.

“No.” You said and you saw Peter doing his puppy eyes at you. “Fine.” You sighed.

Jumping up you did a flip and stuck your legs out, now standing on the ceiling upside down and making eye contact with Sam before looking to Bucky.

“Better?” You asked sarcastically.

“Much.” Sam grinned and you rolled your eyes again.

“Ok. Get down Y/n.” Nat said sounding part annoyed part amused at the display.

“Yes ma’am.” You said before detaching from the roof and doing a flip to landing back where you were before.

“Show off.” Peter murmured under his breath and you huffed a small laugh as his ears went red, not having expected you to hear him. Dumb super-hearing.

“Well, now we’re done with the party tricks. What are we thinking?” You asked brushing off invisible dirt from your clothes.

“Well…” Tony said. “I think its time you got your own suit.” He grinned and you smiled back. “What colours do you want kiddo?” He asked.

“Um… maybe something like purple, white and red?” You said and he nodded already sketching down ideas on a pad of paper pepper had brought with her from a meeting.

“You’re also getting an AI.” Tony added and you looked a peter who simply smiled proudly of you.

“Well, if that’s everything Y/n’s also gonna need a room.” Wanda said and Tony nodded.

“There’s a spare room on Natasha and Wanda’s floor if you want to move in with the girls. Do I need to send some movers to grab your things?” Tony asked and you looked at your shoes and shook your head.

“Not much to move.” You mumbled.

“Y/n’s apartment was taken out in the last battle. She’s been hiding out in Peter’s room for now. That’s how we met actually.” Natasha said shooting you a reassuring smile.

“Well, it sounds like I’m going to be funding yet another shopping trip.” Tony sighed and Wanda grinned at you mischievously.

“We’ll make it a girl's day.” Wanda said shooting a look at pepper.

“I’d love to.” Pepper agreed and Nat clapped her hands together.

“Alright then.” The assassin said. “I should probably tell Fury we have another spider on the team.” Nat grinned and you smiled at her.

“Great, now we have three spiders.” Tony said rolling his eyes and ducking as Pepper aimed a pretty good swing to the back of his head.

“Knock it off Tony, don’t act like you're not secretly overjoyed to have another Parker around.” Pepper said.

“Just wondering,” Bruce said looking mildly nervous as the room turned to look at him.

“Yes?” You prompted him to continue.

“Are you…” He begun before pausing, “I guess theres no real nice way to put it.” Bruce said and Tony jumped in.

“I think Brucie-bear wants to know if you come with the Parker Brain Package.” Tony said and Pepper glared at him.

“Tony.” She warned, glaring at him while you cleared your throat.

“If you’re asking about how smart I am, let’s just say I designed the original prototype for the web-shooters and chemical makeup of the fluid.” You said and Tony nodded seemingly satisfied with that small tidbit of information for now.

“Well, if nobody had anything else to say, Wanda and I are going to take Y/n for a tour of the compound.” Nat said before turning to look at Clint. “And you, have to make dinner. You lost our bet.” Nat said and then dragged you and Wanda out of the room by your sleeves.

After a very long and very comprehensive tour by Natasha and Wanda, you were shown back to the communal kitchen where most of the team ate together when they weren’t on missions.

You walked into the dining room attached to the kitchen to be hit with the smell of burnt food pungent in the air.

You looked at Nat confused, and she grinned as she heard cursing coming from the kitchen. Wanda looked like she was itching to go help but sad she pulled away Nat grabbed her sleeve at the very last second to hold her back.

“Can someone explain whats going on for me?” You asked.

“Well, Clint and Natasha can’t cook if their lives depended on it.” Wanda begun, only to shush Nat when she went to speak up. “So naturally they made a bet, loser had to cook the team dinner, naturally Clint lost so Nat is enjoying his public humiliation. And I normally cook if we aren’t getting takeout so it's causing me pain to hear whats going on in there.”

“Oh, calm down. Clints not blowing anything up.” Nat said rolling her eyes as Wanda shot her a look. “Ok that was one time.” Nat amended.

Not twenty minutes later you were sat at a table with the avengers with a plate of very burnt stake and watery mash potatoes.

“What is it?” Tony asked poking his steak.

Clint grinned. “A masterpiece.” He said.

“More like a mistake.” Nat muttered judging her steak while poking it with her knife as if she was expecting it to start moving of its own accord.

“I say we have newbie try it.” Tony posed and you rolled your eyes.

Cutting off a piece of the very tough steak with your knife you raised it to your lips and put it in your mouth.

It was tough and kind of disgusting. But you smiled anyway.

Finding the meat tougher than you had been expecting, you made the switch as you called you fangs up. Your canines sharpened as you chewed managing to decimate the meat. Swallowing you looked at Clint.

“Not the worst thing I’ve every eaten.” You said with a smirk and Tony who had been watching you closely squeaked.

“Jeez kid you didn’t tell me your sister was a vampire.” Tony said turning to Peter.

By this point most of they eyes were on you, so you hid your teeth and retracted the fangs out of embarrassment.

“She’s not. It’s a spider thing she got.” Peter said coming yo your defence.

“Either way her new name is fangs.” Tony said with a grin.

This time you glared at him.

“For the record i think they’re awesome.” Wanda said sensing your embarrassment.

“Seconded.” Nat said her spy training honing in on your body language to see you were insecure about it.

“I gotta admit it’s a cool trick doll.” Bucky said.

“Pretty neat.” Steve agreed with a smile.

“Badass.” Sam nodded flicking a still frozen pea at Bucky. “Alright, now that y/n probably has food poisoning, who wants pizza?” Nat asked with a grin. Cheers came from all sides of the table as Clint slumped dejectedly in his seat.

PART 4

[jinkiesmariz]

So I did like three more headshots cuz I got sidetracked during a comm Anywaysssss

Presenting Malachi first :33 my beautiful lovely baby boy who is most definitely the prettiest boy in the village. Definitely would be more of a heartbreaker if like. He didn’t accidentally speak like Phoenix Drop’s equivalent of a medieval poet trying to converse with like modern day folks.

Also I gave him a bandana because everyone and their mother has a green scarf and it gets far too confusing and aggravating after awhile

Erm next is Molly :33 I do have a Molly design page I never shared and I won’t ever share cuz I never finished it ♡ anyways to me she definitely is like a waitress/head lady at a tavern with an inn on the second floor in Phoenix Drop, at least I believe she met Dale there and sparks flew between the two or something. Idk I like drawing her holding two big glasses of beer and having some level of charisma even if she’s like overbearing and shit outside of work.

And lastly Yip :3 tbh I looked at my whole doodle sheet and realized I accidentally like drew blondes vs brunettes so I ended it off with yip even tho he technically has black hair and not brown hair I like to think he has a pretty ample amount of body hair and thick wavy hair from the werewolf genes and also just cuz he’s gorgeous or whatever. The town’s big brother and I don’t really remember much sorryyyyy lol

I also think he has sharpened and slightly elongated ears but not in the way elves/half elves do but more of a weird shape idk I’ll draw it better later just guess for now

Oh and like one final thing I accidentally mistook Alexis for having a crush on Malachi and not Yip so I drew this to show how he just effortlessly sparkles before Cal told me I was wrong <\3

My beautiful boy with gorgeous lashes and droopy sparkly eyes or whatever. I would’ve drawn him with his hair tied but he would’ve looked too much like vylad to me and I would’ve gotten mad so unpractical hair it is!!!

Ehe thats all for today and probably the next couple of weeks so toodles ☆

[lottiesboy]

a day out in westview!!

pairing: cg!agatha harkness x little!reader

summary: you spend the day with your mama and aunt wanda.

tags: sfw, fluff, age regression, mama!agatha, aunt!wanda, pacis, shopping, eating, reader being a bit of a fussy baby, agatha and wanda spoiling you :3

“babyyyy, wakey wakey.” agatha rubbed your tummy. you woke up slowly, feeling your paci the fell out of your mouth in the night beside you. you put it in your mouth sleepily, making agatha coo.

“awww,,, c’mere, sleepy baby. are you excited to go out with wanda today?” she picked you up from your crib, patting your back as your head rested on her shoulder. you whined sleepily in response.

there was a knock at the door, which made agatha yell, “coming!” you woke up a little bit at that. agatha walked to open the door, hearing wanda greet her from the other side. “am i too early?”

“oh no, not at all! it’ll only take me a little while to get the baby dressed.” agatha let wanda in, going back to your nursery to get you dressed and freshened up. while doing so, you woke up a little more.

“aww, you’re so cute, bunny. feeling more awake now?” agatha pinched your cheek. “mm hm, mama.”

agatha grabbed your diaper bag, slinging it on her shoulder. “let’s go see wanda, huh?” she clipped you paci to your shirt, holding your hand. you walked out to the living room, seeing wanda on the couch.

“hi, sweetheart! c’mere!” wanda gasped. you came over and she gave you a big hug. every time you saw your aunt wanda, she was always so sweet.

soon, the three of you got into agatha’s car and took off, you sitting in the backseat. agatha thought it would be a good idea to go out for lunch before the mall, since all of you were hungry.

-

you woke up to agatha unbuckling your seatbelt. “had a little nap, baby? are you hungry?” she helped you out of the seat. agatha held your hand as all of you walked into the little cafe. you were seated quickly and given menus, but agatha proudly asked for a little coloring page for you. the waitress had no problem with it, and gave you the activity sheet with crayons.

after ordering, wanda and your mama were talking about grownup stuff while you were coloring, laying your head against agatha’s shoulder. “mama, color.” you looked up at her, butting into wanda and agatha’s conversation. you didn’t mean to, but you just wanted attention.

“mama’ll color with you, baby.” she wrapped her arm around you and grabbed a purple crayon, doodling on the page with you. “you’re coloring so well, sweetheart.” wanda complimented with a smile. “thank you.” you said shyly. wanda watched you and agatha play tic tac toe, which she totally didn’t let you win.

when the food got to you, agatha cut yours in small pieces. “wan some, mama.” you pointed to agatha’s plate of pasta. “what do you say?”

“pease, mama.”

agatha smiled, twirling some pasta onto her fork for you. she fed you, wiping the sauce of your chin. “yummy?” she asked and you nodded.

the three of you finished up eating, agatha buying you a milkshake for dessert. wanda and agatha split the bill, and the three of you walked out, ready to go shopping. agatha grabbed the milkshake out of your hand to hold it while crossing the street. you pouted when she took a sip.

“mama, that my milkshake!”

“mama bought it for you, bunny. it’s what i call the “mama tax.” she unlocked the car, taking another sip and giving it back to you. you couldn’t help but smile at how silly your mama was.

-

when the three of you got to the mall, you wanted to go to the toy store immediately, but agatha wanted to get you some new clothes first. what felt like several minutes of agatha saying, “mama’s almost done” or her helping you try on clothes, you started to get restless and a little whiny.

agatha didn’t want to risk you having a tantrum in this store, so she finished up and paid for everything, telling wanda how absolutely adorable you’re gonna look in your new sweaters.

“oh crap! i forgot i needed to take the blouse back. it’s in the trunk.” agatha was about to start walking back to her car, then she heard your complaints about the toy store. “we’ll see toys in a minute, baby.”

you were very upset because you didn’t wanna wait in another boring clothing store for a million hours!!! but wanda had an idea.

“what if i take the little one while you take care of that blouse?” wanda’s hand began you rub your back. “oh, wanda, you’re a lifesaver.” agatha tapped her shoulder and wanda smiled. “you be good for your auntie, okay bunny? mama’s gonna be right back.” she kissed your cheek, letting you and wanda finally see some toys!!!

there was so many toys and stuffies, you got a little overstimulated because there was so much to choose from. “you like those stuffies, sweet pea? oh, that looks so cuddly.” wanda smiled, seeing you hug the stuffie. you didn’t think you were gonna come out with anything, but wanda had something different in mind.

-

agatha walked over to where the toy store was in the mall where she saw you and wanda sitting in lounge chair across from the store.

“mama, wanda boug me toy!”

“she did?” agatha gasped. “oh wanda, you didn’t have to. this little one is spoiled enough.” agatha ruffled your hair. “i couldn’t say no to that sweet face!! i don’t know how you do it, agatha.”

you showed agatha that wanda bought you a stuffie and some stickers. “did you tell wanda thank you, sweetie?”

you nodded, just happy to have a cute stuffie in your hands.

it got later and later at the mall and the three of you left, agatha putting you on her hip halfway to the car because you were so tired. agatha fawned at the way you held your new stuffie to your chest, asking for your paci. she reached into your diaper bag to get it and pushed it in your mouth.

she set you in the backseat of her car, strapping your seatbelt. “someone’s definitely getting a nap when we get home, yeah.” she said to herself. you reached for agatha with a sleepy whine, making her chuckle a little and shush you. “mama’s gotta drive, baby. you’ll get cuddles at home, i promise.”

she shut the door and got in the drivers seat, watching you doze off in the rearview mirror.

[callsign-venus]

Be Mine | Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader

Summary: It’s a February weekend and Jake has a surprise for you — but you don’t know if you’re ready.

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: LOTS of fluff

a/n: My first Jake fic! This was inspired by the fact that I just found out Glen Powell was at my work at the same time as me, and I didn't know (I could have met him 😭). I might have cried a little when my coworker told me lol. Anyways, hope y’all enjoy this x

You loved weekends with Jake. You loved the soft falling sunlight that woke you instead of the alarm clock, the extravagant brunches he cooked instead of spoons clanking hurriedly against cereal bowls, and the prospect of spending the whole day together instead of a quick kiss in the doorway and a promise that he’d see you that evening.

So when you, half asleep, reached for him and your hands skimmed over bed sheets instead of his broad chest, you snapped awake, just as if your alarm had gone off.

“Jake?” You rubbed away the sleep in your eyes.

No answer.

Sometimes he worked weekends, but he would have told you if that was the case. And you couldn’t hear him in the kitchen, much less smell bacon or coffee. With a groan, you realized you would have to get up to investigate. You scooped Jake’s naval academy hoodie off the floor and pulled it over your head. It smelled like him, mixed with just a hint of your perfume.

The house was empty, no weekend warmth to chase out the chill that fell whenever you were home alone. It didn’t help that the sun was heavily curtained by dark gray clouds.

On the kitchen counter, there was a folded note. Your name graced the paper in his boyish handwriting.

Good morning sunshine,

I had to run some errands, be back in a few.

If you want to wear something nice, I was planning on taking you to the beach when I get back. I’ll stop and get us breakfast, so don’t cook yourself anything.

Sorry I left before you woke up, I hope you’ll accept my apology.

Love,

Jake

P.S. I love you beautiful

The P.S. was punctuated with a little doodle of you. It wasn’t exceptionally well done, but it made you giggle.

You tucked the note into your pocket and carried it with you to the bathroom to get ready for the day.

You’d nearly finished when you heard his car pull into the driveway. You set down your brush and tore through the house, nearly tackling him with a hug as he walked through the door.

“Woah, precious cargo,” he said, as he wrapped an arm around you, a paper bag full of breakfast tacos crushing against your back. An iced drink sloshed in his other hand.

You pulled back to see he’d also brought your iced coffee order from your favorite cafe. A cold feeling spread through your core.

“Did I forget something? It’s not our anniversary is it?” You asked.

“No,” he laughed. “You didn’t forget anything. Can’t I just treat my girl?”

“Of course.” You took a sip of coffee and tried to let it wash away your unfounded worries. Jake loved treating you, but something about his demeanor felt different, just a little bit on edge. There was a tick in his jaw as he set the bag of breakfast tacos on the table like they were breakable. The cold feeling spread to your fingertips.

It disappeared when you joined him at the table, and a genuine smile softened his features. You dug in, dousing the breakfast tacos in salsa verde.

“So good,” you said.

“I’m gonna have to bring you home, these breakfast tacos have nothing on the ones in Texas.”

Your heart fluttered at the thought of going home to Texas with Jake. Plunging into cool watering holes in the peak heat of the day, when the sun scorched so brightly you couldn’t walk outside without sweating. Hot summer nights where cicadas sung and you could see more stars than you ever thought possible. A football game under giant stadium lights, and he’d kiss you when his team won.

You’d never been to the state, but to hear Jake describe it, it was true love. Second only to you, of course.

Jake snuck a few sips of your coffee.

“Hey!” You plucked the cup out of his grasp. “That’s mine. Didn’t you get your own?”

“Already drank it,” he said around a bite of breakfast taco.

Try as you might, you couldn’t stay mad at that face, and you pretended not to notice the next time he stole a sip of your drink.

“So,” you dabbed a napkin to the corner of your mouth after you’d finished your second taco. “What errands did you have to run at the ass crack of dawn?”

“That is a surprise,” he said.

“Really?”

“Yep.” He swept the trash into the takeout bag. “Do you want to go find out?”

You wanted nothing more.

The clouds were like gray marble over the world and the wind ushered a chill into the late morning air. Even though you’d picked out the cutest outfit, you grabbed Jake’s hoodie and threw it on before you walked out the door. It was your favorite piece of clothing – it enveloped you like a hug – but you much preferred Jake himself sitting next to you in the driver’s seat, holding onto your hand like it was the most precious thing in the world. With him by your side, everything was better. Even his car smelled sweet, like fresh fruit.

He glared at the cloud cover. “I should have picked a better day.”

“It’s fine. I love this weather.” You rubbed your free hand over his bicep, and his hand relaxed against yours.

Soon, the ocean crested over the horizon. It churned dark gray, like a reflection of the sky, broken only by whitecaps. It wasn’t sunny like the beach days you and Jake had spent with the Daggers the past summer, but the sight was still beautiful.

Jake pulled into a parking lot on the bluffs overlooking the beach. As soon as you got out of the car, a gust of salty wind buffeted you. Jake tried to apologize, but your laugh rang clear over the whipping wind, and he had never known a sweeter sound. If he could hear your laugh for the rest of his life, he would be buried without a single regret.

He grabbed a picnic basket out of the trunk, took your hand, and walked you down to the beach, where the wind was creating chaos out of a picnic blanket and a bundle of pink and red balloons. Jake ran to bring order, but there was nothing he could do against nature itself.

“I’m sorry,” he said. A balloon bounced against his head. “It looked so nice when I set it up. This wind…”

“It’s ok. It’s still beautiful. Thank you.” You pecked him on the cheek. You were thankful, of course, but the surprise picnic loosened something inside of your chest. Why had he planned it? Had you actually forgotten an important day?

You sat criss-cross on the quilted blanket. With your weight holding it down, the blanket stayed in place against the wind. The balloons, however, shed their tether and danced away. Jake sprung up and gave them a quick chase, but they were much faster, and floating up towards the gray sky. He jumped, but he missed the ribbons by a few inches. Still, he ran after them for a few more yards.

When they were well out of reach, Jake jogged back. He was breathing heavily, and sand caked his feet and calves. You stopped him before he could try to apologize.

“I enjoyed them while they were here.” You looked up to see them still floating, heavenbound. “I’m still enjoying them now. Plus, I got to watch you run after them like a dork.”

“Hey!” He protested through strained breath.

“Kidding,” you said.

Jake started unpacking the picnic basket with flair. First, a bouquet of flowers – more than a dozen roses of your favorite color nestled between fluffy baby’s breath and sprigs of soft eucalyptus. Holding it made you feel like a bride.

A pang of anxiety struck you. You loved Jake. You couldn’t imagine your life without him. But you’d been dating less than a year, and you knew the rumors that servicemen moved fast. What would you say if he pulled out a ring?

You didn’t have time to worry; he was already pulling out a bowl of fruit. Strawberries, mangoes, kiwi, some cut into little hearts.

“Did you do this?” You grabbed a slice of kiwi shaped like a heart and popped it in your mouth. When he nodded, you asked, “How? When?”

“In the supermarket parking lot this morning. I brought a cutting board and a knife.”

He was dead serious. The thought of him, cutting board on his dash, carefully carving fruit for you in a parking lot made you laugh. No man had ever done anything that thoughtful for you.

Jake wondered if communion wine was as sweet as your laugh, as capable of salvation. He decided not.

He pulled out a bakery box last, and you noticed how carefully he held it. This must be the surprise. Your chest felt heavy as you imagined what could be inside. 

You didn’t know what you would do if you opened the box to a cake that said Will you marry me? If you looked up and Jake was on one knee, his eyes sparkling like the ring in his hand, launching into a monologue about how he wanted to spend his life with you. Because you couldn’t deny how much you needed him, like cut flowers needed water. This brilliant man whose hard exterior crumbled with one look at you. Who knew you like an extension of himself. Who sat in a parking lot and cut heart-shaped fruit for you because he wanted to see you smile. You would do anything for him to stay yours. Yours to please. Yours to hold. Yours to love.

You couldn’t say no. You couldn’t lose him.

He set the box in front of you and took your hand in his. “Are you ready?”

“I’ve been ready for the past few hours.” You gave his hand a squeeze. This was it. You were on the precipice. The ocean roared down below. If he asked you to jump with him, would you?

Your breath caught in your chest as you lifted the lid. Inside, a frilly pink cake. In white frosting on the top, Will you be my Valentine?

A laugh shook you, and relief unfurled under your skin. You wrapped your arms around him with such force that you both fell onto the picnic blanket.

“Yes,” you said as you attacked his perfect face with kisses. “Yes, yes, yes.”

When he couldn’t take your onslaught any longer, he wrapped his giant arms around you and crushed you against his chest. There was no place safer for you in the entire world. You swore your hearts harmonized, both perfectly in time with the beat of the waves against the sand. You could have stayed like that forever, but eventually, Jake succumbed to the sweet allure of the cake and let you go. As he cut into the soft pink shells of buttercream, your mind drifted somewhere to the future. Your hands melded with his around a knife handle, slicing into another cake – this one at least three tiers tall and white.

Jake shook you from your daydream by offering you the first slice of pink cake.

It was delicious. Your favorite flavor and his, married perfectly between layers of dark and pale pink buttercream. As you ate, the impenetrable cloud cover finally yielded to the wind, and the sun stretched its lazy rays over the two of you. Somehow, Jake ended up with a dab of frosting on the tip of his nose. You swiped it away with the pad of your thumb and licked it clean.

You felt some relief at not getting engaged. But with the taste of cake in your mouth, and the golden sun warming Jake’s skin, you felt a tinge of bittersweetness. Maybe some part of you had wanted him to ask, even though it was so soon.

But you looked at the picnic spread – the heart-shaped fruit, the bursting bouquet, even the balloons, long since claimed by the sky – and you were assured it would not be long before he got down on one knee and asked for your hand.

You knew what your answer would be.

[ladykailitha]

The Caged Bird Still Sings Part 14

Hey guys! Welcome back! So this chapter is getting a little heavy on the angsty side, so just a heads up.

Things have been going great for all the stories especially the Christmas one.

This will be the story that keeps its usual schedule next week. Every other posting day will be finishing up the Olympic Swimmer one. So be on the look out for that.

Also super long chapter!

Steve tries out some hobbies, Joyce pushes, and Steve gets depressed.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

~

Steve would like to say he got right on the job search the next day, but he really didn’t. He woke up refreshed and feeling good about himself. After a run on the treadmill and big breakfast he had already talked himself out needing to.

But instead he decided that he wanted to learn new hobbies. He had the money and pretty much unlimited time so why not?

The first thing he tried felting. Yeah, he had a lot of money, but he wanted to start with something cheap in case he got bored with it.

Taking the kit out of the box, he already ran into a problem. The leather finger gloves were much too small. Like he didn’t have fat fingers or anything but they were much too tight to fit on even his pinkie fingers he turned them inside out to see if he could make them bigger somehow.

He only succeeded in ruining the finger gloves. He tried rubber thimbles as replacements but still the sharp tool would pierce even the tough rubber.

The kit sat abandoned in a corner of his hotel room until one of the porters saw it and asked if he could have it. His sister did the felting all the time and she was having trouble finding colors she liked.

So Steve let him have it. Three days later the porter came back with a bright yellow canary and a female robin. He proudly displayed them on his nightstand next to the phone and alarm clock.

Robin loved them, but refused to take the robin. She said they shouldn’t be separated at any price.

Steve loved her a little bit more when she said that.

The next thing he tried was painting.

That lasted all of six hours before they got handed off to Will. It was a beautiful oil, acrylic, and water color set, with all the paint brushes and pallet and metal wood-handled pallet knives.

It lasted that long was because that was the time it took for Steve to set everything up, including an old sheet Rosa let him have, start painting and promptly knock everything over. The water, the paints, the easel. Everything. He broke the easel, knocked a hole in the canvas, and smeared paint all over the apron he had bought just for the occasion.

Will was happy to receive the paints, but in turn he gave Steve a simple notepad and pencil and taught him how to draw.

Steve liked that.

It was just for doodling and making silly pictures so it didn’t make him feel like a failure. He went to the bookstore and bought a bunch of books on how to draw certain things. Animals, the human figure. He even found this great reference book on clothes sorted based on the English monarch who was in power at the time the were wore.

Which was all well and good, but it wasn’t exactly what he wanted.

One day while he was over at Will’s talking art and whether or not kneaded erasers were worth the pain they caused if you dropped, Ellie introduced him to a new hobby. Will was against the things, Steve was for.

Jonathan huffed, “That’s probably a class issue as Steve here can afford to replace them and Will can’t.”

Steve and Will stared at each other in complete shock, but had to admit that Jonathan was probably right.

“Yeah, okay,” Steve huffed, “that’s fair. I guess I really didn’t think about it because it’s not my money I’m spending.”

“Have you tried looking for a job?” Joyce asked. She didn’t like that someone was paying to keep Steve safe. As nice as it was, in her experience the well tended to dry up when you least expected it to.

Steve rolled his eyes. “Yes, Mrs. Byers.” Which he had. Yes, he had been focused on trying to learn things that would keep his mind from atrophying, he had also been looking. “If they seen me coming they take down the sign or if they don’t get to it in time, they say it’s an old sign and that they forgot to take it down.”

Joyce’s shoulders slumped in sympathy. The rumor around town is that because Mr. Harrington was the landlord for a lot of the properties that the businesses were on, he had threatened to raise their rent if they gave Steve a job.

Something that all the adults promised not to tell Steve so that he wouldn’t get so discouraged as to not try at all.

But surely Clint Harrington didn’t own every business in Hawkins and she told Steve so.

“No,” Steve huffed. “But he’s friends with ones that he doesn’t. I’m going to try the mall next. Most of the them are franchises and have their main bosses outside of Hawkins.”

She let out a little sigh of relief. It showed that Steve was trying and actively thinking of these types of pitfalls.

Steve shifted uncomfortably. “What have you got there, Ellie?” he asked trying to shift the focus off of him for a moment.

Joyce was watching Ellie while Hopper was at work.

The young girl held up long satin strings of embroidery thread. She had three shades of pink, a white, and a red. She tied the ends to a safety pin that was pinned her leg.

“I’m making friendship bracelets for me and Max,” Ellie said proudly. “The pink is for me, and then I have these colors for her!” She held up blues and purples.

“That’s way cool!” Steve said scooting over to sit next to her.

Jonathan and Will shared a smile. Steve was lost to the shiny allure of friendship bracelets.

“I could teach you if you like,” she said with a smile. “I also have boondoggle!” She held up shiny plastic strips. “I make key chains and other things that need to last a lot longer than the thread.”

Steve really lit up, but then frowned when he saw out intricate it all was. “I’ll never be do anything that fancy.”

Ellie sat closer and pulled out a little paper that she had in her caboodle. “I couldn’t at first either, so I went to the library and took out a book on all the different ways you could plait and how to do boondoggle. Then I copied a couple of the pages I wanted to try.”

She handed it to him and pointed to the easiest. “That’s the one I started with and it will probably take a little bit to get the spacing right.”

Steve tilted his head. “Is this like braiding hair?”

“Yes!” Ellie said excitedly. “That’s right. I forgot you braid Max’s hair all the time. So then it will be easy for you.”

Soon they were off in their own little world.

Joyce watched with her arms crossed and a concerned expression. Jonathan spotted her and shook his head. He stood up and went to stand next to her.

“You’ve got to let it go, Mom,” he said gently. “You aren’t his mom and even if you were, he’s still an adult. As near as anyone of can tell, whoever is footing this bill isn’t in it to exploit Steve, just making sure he’s taken care of.”

Joyce breathed out through her nose as she tried not to snap at her son. She didn’t know that as a fact and Hopper’s reassurances weren’t enough. She hated having to take his word that whoever this was wouldn’t harm Steve. And that galled.

“It’s all the expensive gifts,” she tried to explain. “The car, the unlimited credit card, cash drops weekly, the gold necklace, the hotel. It’s just not right, it’s not decent.”

Jonathan shook his head. “What about all the non-expensive gifts? Things this benefactor thought Steve would like or get a kick out of? Like that little canary with top hat that he keeps on his dashboard? Or all the music tapes they send, thinking Steve might want to try something different. Hell, according to Steve until they left the country, they talked once or twice a day. That doesn’t sound like someone out to hurt him.”

She let out a shuddering sigh. Because Jonathan was right, that didn’t sound like someone trying to use Steve. “I know.”

Jonathan patted on her shoulder and then went into his room, probably to call Nancy. Another person like his mom who worried Steve was being taken advantage of. But even if he was, that was a lesson he was going to have to learn the hard way.

On his own.

Will had long since left to go hang out with Mike while Ellie and Steve made friendship bracelets. He made four. A black, red, and dark grey one for Eddie, a red, a brown, and a light grey one for Robin and two yellow, white, and black ones. So he could one each to Eddie and Robin.

“Those are really pretty, Steve,” Ellie congratulated him. “Those are some interesting color choices.” Spoken as though she was silently judging, but too polite to say so.

He blushed and held up the first one. “This is for my special friend, they are his favorite colors.” Then he held up the second. “And this is for Robin. The colors remind me of a female robin and the last two represent who I am now.”

Ellie blinked for a moment as she took in the information. “I can see that now. Thank you for explaining it to me.”

“I get my thread at Melvand’s,” she said serenely, “if you wanted to continue to make more, that’s where you would go to get your own.”

Steve kissed the top of her head. “Thank you, Ellie.”

He didn’t stay much longer than that, now that both of the other boys were gone, Joyce was keeping too close an eye on him with Ellie. He knew it wasn’t the gay thing as she didn’t mind Will being around her. And it wasn’t being a barely legal adult considering she would gladly leave Jonathan to look over her.

Nope.

It was entirely because she didn’t know who Steve’s mysterious benefactor was. And the thought of this unknown, probably male, person might hear about Ellie later? Yeah, that’s where she drew her invisible line.

Which was bullshit, like with Robin’s mom, Eddie wasn’t going to prey on little girls. He was freaking out about Steve might be underage when they met in the club. But it wasn’t like he could tell Joyce that. She might revoke his time with Will and Ellie if she learned he had been underaged drinking that night. The night Eddie saved him.

Steve went up to his hotel room and flopped face first into his bed. He was tired. Tired of all the questions about finding a job and getting out from under Eddie’s thumb. Like Eddie was financially abusing him or whatever.

He just wanted to bring people to his hotel room and show them all the little things Eddie sent him just because he walked into a gas station and saw something cute he thought he would like. The keychain from Kansas City with his name on it. The bright yellow shirt that said “I don’t take no shit” and had the Iowan state bird of the American goldfinch. That one came with a little note explaining that it was a canary, but the black on the wings reminded Eddie of the deliciously tight black leather pants.

Steve blushed for hours after that one.

He wiggled onto the bed and crawled under the covers without having taken off any of his clothes. Maybe he could hibernate until Eddie got back in America.

~

Steve managed to bury himself under the covers before the porter with the felting sister ripped the blanket off from over his head.

He stared blearily up at the porter. “Martin?” He struggled to sit up, but flopped back down on the pillow in distress. “Just leave me alone.”

“It’s Marty actually,” the porter huffed. “The only people that call me Martin are my boss and my mom. You’re not either.”

“Marty, I just want to go back to sleep.”

Marty pulled the rest of the blankets and yanked Steve off the bed. He went with a startled yelp. He leapt to his feet to fight him, but he saw that Bob and Rosa were standing by his bed with looks of concern on their faces.

“I have the shower running,” Bob said, “you will get in there and at least clean off the sweat you reek of. Then Rosa will change the sheets. Marty will bring up some food while you are showering, then the three of us are staging an intervention, because this isn’t like you!”

Steve opened his mouth to refute that statement, probably something about how no one called the whole time he as sulking.

Bob pulled out a stack of messages. “I have thirteen messages, and that’s only because the answering machine is full.”

Steve looked behind him and sure enough the machine was blinking complete with a full tape.

“Oh.”

He meekly went and did as he was told. He was only going to do a perfunctory wipe down because they were waiting for him, but once he got under the water it felt so good that he began to thoroughly scrub himself down. Normally going without a shower for a couple of days really didn’t do much, but because he had barely moved to pee, he was covered in thin layer of sweat.

He washed his hair and got out of the shower. He dried himself off and put on the long robe Eddie had gotten him. He opened the door and was instantly hit with enticing aroma of chicken noodle soup. He moved out of the bathroom to the main room, lured by the scent of real food.

The sofa was full of the hotel employees so he grabbed his bowl of soup and spoon and sat down on the armchair curled up as small as he could make himself.

“You frightened us, mi corazón,” Rosa huffed. “You weren’t answering your phone, you weren’t ordering food. The only way we could tell you moved at all is that occasionally the cup in the bathroom would be wet or you would be on the other side of the bed.”

Bob nodded. “We were told to look after you, money was no object. That’s what we were told, but you turned out to be kind and generous and frankly better than ninety percent of the patrons here. You treat us like we’re human, so it became our pleasure to serve you. So when you weren’t opening your door to anyone or answering your calls, we knew something was wrong.”

“Sorry,” Steve muttered into his bowl. “I just got so tired of everyone trying to find out who is bankrolling my life style and telling me to get a job that I just didn’t want to deal with it anymore.”

“It’s none of their business,” Rosa huffed. “They’re just jealous that they don’t have this life. I know your papa wants to hurt and all this for you protection, but it seems to me your friends just see the money you...” she snapped her fingers. “What’s the word?”

“I’d use ‘splash around’,” Steve said with a shrug.

“Ehhh,” she knew it wasn’t the word she was looking for but it would have to do. “They see the good. Not the bad. They see new car, but they weren’t there to see you give up your old car. They see the fancy hobbies, but they don’t see your big room and no one to fill it with.”

“She’s right,” Marty said. “I don’t think even the girl that comes with your gifts from Eddie Munson quite understands the crippling loneliness and isolation you have to be feeling right now.”

Steve sniffled into his soup. “Thanks, guys. I don’t know how to impress upon them how dangerous this all is for me. Like the only ones that remotely understand are the Hendersons and that’s because my dad showed up on their doorstep. But even then I don’t think Dustin quite grasps the enormity of it all, but then he’s thirteen so...”

“The only reason your father hasn’t penetrated hotel security,” Bob said with a grimace, “is that the owner, Dr. Sam Owens hates business men like your father. Otherwise, his hold over this town would have extended to here, no doubt about that.”

“So this is what’s going to happen,” Marty said, “if you need to sneak out and just go for a drive to get out of your head, call Bob and he’ll arrange it. If you need someone to talk to ring up Rose or myself. We’re here for you. We understand that Mr. Munson is out of the country right now and it makes it harder, but we’ve got you, okay?”

Steve nodded and said weakly, “Okay!”

~

Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @beelze-the-bubkiss @blondie1006

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @sticknpokelightningbolt

9- @scoops-aboy86 @kurofuckingshi16 @watermelonmite @eyehartart @dreamercec

10- @little-birch-boy @yearningagain @micheledawn1975 @sadisticaltarts

[mintmint2]

My main drawing device died where my reference sheets were supposed to be on so I was on my phone the whole day and ended up doodling some stuff

Should I still credit them? I didn’t even finish the drawings… but i should though, it’s the right thang to do

Kratos belongs to @kratos-sins (i needs to draw this awesome kratos guy more seriously💔💔)

Nems belongs to @bloobluee

Sanu / magi belongs to me

[joshym]

Muse

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!Reader

Summary: Your struggling artist is desperate for some inspiration.

Word Count: 3.4k+

Warnings: smut (18+ ONLY), unprotected p in v, oral (f! receiving), a smidge of sir kink, some spanking, a lot of fluff because i can't help myself, Jake draws a naked portrait of you (let me know if i've missed anything)

a/n: special thanks to this lovely anon for this brilliant idea. this was way too much fun to write.

this was inspired heavily by that scene from the Titanic. (you know the one.)

as always, thank you to my favorite editor/motivator, @jakeyt.

i hope you enjoy. ♡

“I want you to draw me wearing this.” You reach into the lapel of the robe, retrieving his coin that now hangs from your neck. “Only this.”

.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.

His frustration is palpable, evident in the nearly incessant huffing emanating from behind the closed door of his studio.

It's moments like these that leave you feeling utterly helpless. There’s nothing you can do, no inspiration you can provide that will pull him from his artist’s block.  

He's been holed up in there for hours, since the early dawn, lost in the depths of his imagination, sketching away. You know better than to intrude; he's never been keen on sharing his work until it's finished.

In fact, he's never once allowed you a glimpse into his creative process. "It's the strange doodlings of a mind overrun with ideas. It's not to be seen until it's in its final form," he's reminded you countless times when your curiosity gets the better of you.

Still yet, you're consumed by the desire to witness his beautiful mind in action, crafting masterpieces in real-time, each stroke flowing from his soul through his tireless hand on his Somerset velvet sheets.

But, like any artist, he’s his own worst critic. He’s never truly satisfied with anything he creates, though you are left utterly speechless after each piece he finishes. His mind is a beautifully profound chasm of endless wonder, manifested through his artistry.

You hate when he has these moments of doubt, these instances when he questions whether he’s truly capable of such greatness. 

And you especially despise days like today, when he spends the better part of it feeling as though he has a mental brick wall in the way of his ingenuity, hindering his hand from bringing to life what his mind so desperately longs to conceive. 

Commissioned pieces, like his project today, always hold the most weight for him— from the need to earn a living, to his persistent worry that his art might not meet the expectations of the client. 

It’s not that he doesn’t love doing them, or that he’ll ever stop taking them; quite the contrary, they’re his favorite pieces to work on. They provide him with an added pressure that elicits some of his best work. 

But, reaching that point can be rather strenuous for him. It can at times take days, weeks before he discovers the creative impulsion he needs. 

And right now, he’s in that very rut, awaiting the surge of inspiration that will reignite his dulled spirit.

There truly is nothing you can do when he’s lost like this, and any effort you’ve attempted in the past has always proved useless. 

The one thing you can do, however, is prepare him some dinner.

He’s hardly left his studio today, and you know he’s not eaten much, if anything at all. Perhaps a morsel of sustenance will ignite the dormant embers of his mind. 

.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.

After a quiet tap to the door, he invites you in with a serene voice. 

He looks tired, but lovely as ever. The golden hour has officially set in the sky, and the opened curtains on the windows have allowed for a warm hue to encompass his studio, enveloping him in its delicate lume.

“That smells absolutely divine,” he remarks as you enter his studio, his plate and yours delicately balanced in your hands. 

“I figured a little homemade pasta would do you some good,” you tell him while you pad across the floor to his work station.

With a sly disposition and a playful glint in your eye, you aim to steal a glance of his day-long project, but alas, you’ve been caught. Your sweet Jake misses nothing.

"Not yet, my love," he murmurs, flipping the page over as he takes your hand, planting a tender kiss over your knuckles. "You know the rules."

“I know, I know.” Your response holds a bit of remorse. You know better, but can’t begin to help the relentless desire to see his mind at work. 

Setting his dinner on the desk he’s working from, you move yourself across the small office to the green chaise lounge that sits across from him, silently seeking his permission with your gentle glances. The smile in his eyes tells you that he’s more than happy to be graced with your company for the time being. 

After taking a bite of the spinach tortellini you prepared, he unbuttons his white striped shirt, removing it from his shoulders and stretching his arms high above his head as though he’s ridding himself of the weight of his frustrations.

You can’t help your glare, watching him do something so normal yet so intriguing all at once. 

His skin is velvety smooth, his chest rising and falling with every breath he takes, his chestnut wavy locks sitting atop his broad shoulders. You’re in awe each time you look at him; the sheer magnitude of his beauty never fails to steal your breath away.

And his necklace, his most cherished piece of jewelry that he wears each and every day. The precious coin, a relic salvaged from a centuries-old shipwreck that hangs against his chest.

The way it sits on his bare skin is nothing short of elating, sexy. It’s a wonderful addition to his already captivating aura. 

He’s flawless. Everything about him.

Once he catches your gaze, he responds with a sly wink, eliciting a blush that paints your cheeks a bright shade of pink.

Then, a thought begins to swirl around your mind for a brief moment. One that you’re shocked you’ve not conjured until now. 

The vision of the pendant against his bare skin sets your own imagination alight. 

“I’ve got an idea,” you propose, your voice soft and sultry, trying to pique his interest even just a little, something that may help the rusted wheels of his mind turn at full capacity once again.

While his focus remains on his work, his right eyebrow arches ever so slightly, and you catch the hint of a grin daring to curl in the corners of his mouth.

“And what might that be, my dear?” he asks with an unknowing, devilish smirk. 

As you get up, he hastily flips the page back over to hide his work from you once again.

“Don’t worry,” you say as you move behind him, placing your hands on his bare shoulders. “I won’t peek.”

You glide your fingers along his skin, feeling the subtle rise of each goosebump in the wake of your gentle touch.

He hums inquisitively as you delicately take hold of the clasp of his necklace in between your index and thumb, undoing it in one fluid motion before slowly slipping it from around his neck. 

“Be right back,” you say as you head towards the door. “Don’t move.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he responds, a myriad of questions splayed across his features.

With light steps, you make your way down the wooden floors of the hall towards your shared bedroom. Hanging on the back of the door is your sapphire hued satin robe, adorned with a delicate lace detailing along the hem—the one Jake has always fawned over. 

The satin drapes coolly against your skin as you slip it on, wearing nothing underneath, save for the weight of Jake’s necklace resting against your chest that you hide beneath the fabric. 

You run your fingers through your hair, adding a subtle tousled look, before applying a light blush to your lips and cheeks to impart a bit of natural color to your complexion.

And with that, you're poised and ready.

.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.

As you turn the corner to face his studio, you see a very weary version of your Jake. His head sits in the palms of his hands, his leg bounces up and down at a rapid rate—a clear sign of the mental battle he’s waging. 

This is as good a time as any for your little idea, and you’re hoping that it’ll be the very thing he needs to find some much needed initiative to keep going. 

“Hi, baby,” you venture, leaning your body alluringly against the frame of the door. 

As he looks up, a familiar twinkle dances in his eyes—a sight you've longed for all day long. It's a glimmer that tells you he's rather fond of the vision before him.

“And what exactly is your idea?” he inquires softly, slowly standing from his chair. But you stop him, motioning for him to stay just where he is as you saunter towards the chaise you were seated on just moments ago. 

“My idea,” you begin, making a very slow, deliberate attempt to untie the sash holding your robe together at the waist. “...is for you to draw me.” 

As if your thought has affected him physically, his posture immediately straightens, and his once tired eyes hold a renewed sense of life as they watch you intently. 

“I want you to draw me wearing this.” You reach into the lapel of the robe, retrieving his coin that now hangs from your neck. “Only this.” 

Your robe suddenly falls to the floor, revealing your fully nude figure that was hidden beneath. 

“Oh…” he utters, his tongue wetting his lower lip before tucking it between his teeth. “You can’t do this to me, baby. I can’t look at you like this an–”

“Consider it a commission,” you interrupt, tracing your fingers lightly up and down the skin of your torso. “And when you’re finished, if it’s to my liking, you’ll receive a full payment.”

With a raised eyebrow, his gaze sweeps up and down your form, while his index finger lightly grazes his chin.

“You’re quickly becoming my favorite client,” he quips, wiping a stray bead of sweat away from his forehead, tousling the front of his hair in the process. “Consider it done, ma’am,” he continues with a confirming nod of his head. 

You lay yourself down on the forest green velvet cushions, positioning yourself sensually across the chaise. Your body is turned slightly to the side, your leg gracefully crossed over the other, an elegant display of your curved silhouette. 

The warm glow that is so beautifully cast upon Jake, is now cast upon you, the aura laying over your nude body like a golden blanket of light. 

“Is this okay?” you ask him, draping your arm over the back of the chaise, making sure the coin sits meticulously atop your chest before your other arm falls to rest against your body. 

He simply grins while nodding his head, his eyes drinking you in, a mix of surprise and desire evident within his expression.

“Yeah, that um…that’ll do just fine,” he tells you, the slight crack in his voice eliciting a smile from you, a break in his professional facade. 

With a deep breath, he takes his prized Faber Castell 9000, carefully sharpening the tip just a bit before putting it against a blank sheet. 

And then, as the true artist you know him to be, he begins without a hint of hesitancy. The gentle sound of the lead scratching away at the paper fills the quiet room— a sound you’ve come to cherish, a sound that signifies his craft is steadily blossoming to life.

He seems charmingly nervous, his hand gently brushing against his nose every so often between a series of strokes from his pencil, clearing his throat more than usual. His eyes flint to you, then back to the paper, then back to you, a succession of his adoration and determination, ensuring that the likeness captured in his art closely mirrors your essence. 

You try to keep your face composed, a seductive allure about your features. But as you watch him, immersed in his passion, the way he’s studying you so intently, it becomes nearly impossible to suppress the beginnings of a smile upon your lips. 

But despite your efforts, he takes note of the curve adorning your flushed lips, mirroring it with his own. “Relax your face for me, beautiful.” The soft rasp in his tone is enough to send a blush throughout your whole body. 

Breathing in your nose and exhaling through parted lips, you’re able to reclaim your composure enough to steady your expression. 

Every moment you share with him is a brushstroke of beauty, but something about this one stands out. The intimacy of it all, how he must diligently study every inch of your form to convey your image through his art, the intensity behind his focused gaze…your heart is racing in your chest, despite your relaxed demeanor. 

.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.

With the sun almost hidden behind the early moon, he completes the final stroke.

He lays his pencil down, gently blowing on the paper to remove any stray lead before he picks it up, examining it closely while he walks it over to you. 

As he holds it out before you, allowing you to at last see his craft come to life, you’re left entirely awestruck. 

“Oh, Jake.” The sight before you leaves you nearly breathless. It exceeds every expectation, beyond the boundaries of your imagination. It’s a portrayal of you, but not just that— it’s how he sees you.

It’s the first time you’re witnessing yourself through his eyes, and in that, you feel a profound sense of beauty within yourself that you’ve never known. 

“Do you like it?” He asks, a slight tremor present in his voice. 

“It’s…incredible, Jake.” 

Propping yourself up a bit, you carefully take the drawing from his hands, poring over his vast attention to the detail in your face, your body. 

Specifically your breasts, how perfectly he depicted their round curve above your rib cage, encapsulating the fullness and allure of them. 

You’re entranced by the way he drew the contour of your hips, how he captured the dip in them that you’ve always looked at with disdain, yet in his portrayal, you’re able to see the beauty in what you’ve considered a flaw.

He encapsulated everything, even the faint freckle beneath the curve of your left breast, and the mole under your belly button. He managed to immortalize all the intricate nuances that you typically overlook.

“Is this what I really look like?”

“Yes, but,” he takes the drawing from you, placing it on the mahogany table beside the chaise lounge. He helps you lay back down, gently caressing your face that he’s just conveyed through his artistry as he props himself above you. “The essence of your beauty defies any depiction.”

Then, his lips envelope yours in a kiss so fervent, so ardent, as though he’s waited hours to finally have you within his grasp. 

His hand moves with a swift grace to your breast, fingers toying with your perked bud. This erotic moment with him has you already so flustered, so sensitive to every touch of his hands. 

He breaks his lips from yours, only to land them down the column of your heaving chest.

“You’ve no idea how hard it was for me to look at you like this, to look at these,” he mumbles against the tingling skin, hands kneading the flesh of your breasts. “And fight the urge to come place my lips on every inch of this beautiful fucking body.”

And just as he said, he bestows tender yet hungry kisses down the length of your torso, maneuvering his body down the chaise lounge until he kneels before you. He nestles his face perfectly between your thighs, his warm breath tantalizing your wet center from his dangerously close proximity. 

“I certainly hope you don’t let all of your clients pay you like this,” you mutter, breathless and yearning for his mouth. 

“Only the ones that tickle my fancy,” he says, his words adorned with a playful wink before he delves into you. 

He laps away at your pulsing cunt, like he’s been starved for your taste this entire evening. The lewd, lascivious sounds he’s emitting from between your legs only serve to heighten your need for him, causing your back to instinctively arch away from the plush cushions. 

And when his lips envelop your throbbing clit, his tongue swirling around it inside his warm mouth, your body trembles and shudders. A rush of warmth encompasses you, starting from the depths of your core, the pit of your stomach, spreading to every inch of your being. 

You surrender to the intoxicating bliss, your breath catching in your throat while your heart pounds in a crescendoing rhythm.  

He guides you through it, gently holding your hips in place while the movement of his tongue slows in perfect time as with the ebb of your climax.

“Oh, that was so beautiful, my love.” He lovingly kisses the inside of your thigh before he stands, removing the belt from his patchwork jeans. “Turn over for me, baby.”

“Yes, sir,” you quietly utter as you obey his demand, knowing good and damn well what that specific name does to him. 

Just as he commanded, you turn your body over to your stomach, placing your elbows against the arm of the chaise, your back arched as much as you can so that your ass is sticking up just right for him.

“Love when my sweet girl calls me that,” he purrs before his belt hits the floor, his jeans and underwear quickly in tow and freeing his impossibly hard cock. 

“So, what’s the verdict, my love?” You feel the cushion sink in behind you as he settles himself between your legs, his right hand caressing your hip while the other teases your soaked cunt with the tip of his cock, leaking with precum. “Was my work to your liking?”

You giggle breathlessly, poking your ass out even further as an offering to him for his hard work. “Yes, I believe you’ve earned your reward.” 

He steadily begins nudging his cock into you, going slow at first, allowing you to fully adjust to him. 

Inch by thick inch, he fills you completely to the hilt, your breath catching in heavy gasps that are robbed from your lungs as he buries himself deeply within you. 

Your nails claw at the velvet armrest as his thrusts quicken in their pace, your upper body nearly going limp as you’re no longer able to easily hold yourself up.  

His hands hold a firm grip at your lower waist, pulling you into his cock rhythmically, yet becoming more and more disordered as he’s beginning to lose himself to the pleasure. 

You cry out a slew of obscenities mixed with his name, begging him to fuck you harder, faster.

Without question he complies, landing an open palm against your ass cheek. “So good for me baby,” he hums, his thighs slapping against the backs of yours as he drives into you just the way you need. “So fucking good for me.” 

With one more vigorous thrust of his hips, you feel that familiar rush throughout your whole body as your cunt throbs and pulses incessantly around his cock.

“Fuck, I feel you, baby. Pretty little cunt squeezing me so tight.” You feel the twitching of his cock inside of you, an indication that he's on the very brink of his own release. 

“Cum inside me, sir. Please…need you to fill me.” Your voice is faltered, your body still reeling from your second climax. 

“Jesus,” he groans, moaning exasperatedly as your words have him spilling within you, filling you with his warmth just as you requested. 

He stays buried inside of you as he catches his breath, feeling his release slowly trickling down your thighs as you struggle to fill your own lungs. 

You have to fight the urge to protest when he begins pulling himself away from you, not yet ready for the empty feeling he leaves you with. 

You practically collapse against the cushion, your body exhausted in the most enthralling way, the kind of exhaustion that only immense amounts of pleasure can bring forth. 

“My sweet, beautiful girl,” he whispers, kneeling himself before you as he softly caresses your flushed cheek. 

You kiss the pad of his thumb as it crosses over your mouth, summoning the strength to lift yourself up enough to steal one from his lips. “I hope it worked,” you say, gently cupping his face in your hand. 

“You hope what worked, my love?” He asks, leaning into your soft touch. 

“I was hoping this would help inspire you.” You reach for the drawing, savoring its beauty once more. “I was hoping I could help inspire you, pull you out of your moment of doubt.” 

“My love,” he murmurs, setting the portrait back down before he gently brushes his lips against yours. “You inspire me endlessly, every single day.” 

His tender smile warms your very soul as he leans in for a deeper kiss, imbued with all the love you could ever want for.

“You’re my perfect muse,” he utters against your lips, “I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you.” 

.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.

a/n: suffice to say, this inspired the hell out of me when i've lacked inspiration/motivation lately. thank you, anon.

if you have any juicy ideas, feel free to send them my way. ♡

love you guys.

taglist: (let me know if you'd like to be added/removed!)

@jakeyt @objectsinspvce @stayinginthesun @sinarainbows @stardustcordzz @klarxtr @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @highway-tuna @way-to-go-lad @reesetrippingthelight @jakesgrapejuice @sacredjake @notthedroidz @kiszkashousee @psychedelicstardust-gvf @jjwasneverhere @gvf-ficreads @stardust-jake @gretavanbear @gvfmelborne @sirjaketkiszkasharmonica @jaaakeeey @neptune2324 @jaketlove @myleftsock @joshskittytickler @audgeppp @jordie-gvf @gretavansara @gretasfallingsky @jazzyfigz @louiseecraigg @hippievanfleet @blacksoul-27 @sarafrusciante2 @heckingfrick @citylight-delight @electricgoldtendercare @musicspeaks @hollyco @gvfpal @dannys-dream @josh-iamyour-mama @edgingthedarkness @earthgrlsreasy @hernameis-heaven @mackalah @gvfmarge

Masterlist

[ccastellans]

love letters.

luke castellan x gn!reader

SUMMARY: luke castellan decides to give you a love letter during a difficult day.

AUTHORS NOTE: no usage of y/n (just “reader” insert), this is very unedited, i haven’t written in a few months so don’t judge me 😭😭

————————————————————————

it was an incredibly hot day in camp half blood, and of course they chose strawberry picking as the activity of the day.

the scorching heat was already keeping you on edge, but it just so happens that nothing seemed to be working in your favor today.

you had accidentally dropped your bucket and spilled all of the strawberries you had managed to pick so far. and to top it all off, some of the other campers were being particularly pushy and rude, making it impossible to simply relax and enjoy the activity.

as the strawberry picking went on, your frustration and short temper only grew, and you began to feel like you were losing control. your fingers began to fumble as you were desperately trying to pick this one tough strawberry that just wouldn’t come off the green vine.

suddenly, you feel a soft tap on your back. you jump from the sudden contact, and quickly turn around defensively. although, your stance and gaze soften when you see that it’s just luke castellan.

the curly, brown haired boy silently greets you with his welcoming grin, and hands you a little folded up paper before running off to continue his counsellor duties. you already feel a little lighter just from the small interaction you had with the hermes cabin counsellor.

you focus on the folded up paper that he has handed to you. as curiosity takes over, you begin to unravel the paper.

when you finish unfolding the paper, you’re greeted with a lined sheet of paper, covered in words. you can feel a pair of eyes burning a hole into the back of your head as you stare at the lined paper. you acknowledge the little doodles littered around the page. little red hearts, smiley faces, and even some messy ones that you’re unable to decipher. the letter reads;

“ to reader,

hey there! :) it seems like you’ve been having a pretty rough day, and i just wanted to let you know that you're doing great! <3 dont let the other campers get to you, and don't focus on the strawberries you've lost. i love you so so much!! you always bring a smile to my face and make my heart feel so full of joy, so i hope this letter can make you feel that way too.

with all my heart,

luke castellan. :) “

your heart flutters as you process all of the kind words luke wrote to you. you cant help it when your eyes search for luke amongst the field of strawberries. it’s almost as if the two of you were thinking the same thing, because as your eyes find his; his eyes are already trained on you. and of course he’s wearing that adorable smile of his.

you cant help but grin at the boy, and silently mouth the words “thank you” , hoping he can read your lips. luke just nods back at you, as the grin on his face grew impossibly larger.

————————————————————————

copyright © ccastellans 2024

all rights reserved. no part of my writing may be reproduced as this account on tumblr is the only place i post my writing.

[crystallinestars]

NSFW Alphabet - Kaveh

First time doing one of these, but I'll gradually make other installments for the other boys which you can find here (there's nothing there as of now, though).

I am here to spread the dom Kaveh agenda, and no, I won't accept criticism.

Kaveh x fem!Reader

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Kaveh is really good at aftercare, oftentimes pampering you after the act. After sex, he likes to cuddle and tell you how happy he is to be this intimate with you. If you’re sore, he’ll give you a massage and apologize for being too rough. Even if he’s exhausted, he will force himself to get up and fetch you anything you might need, like water or a towel.

That said, he would appreciate it if you returned the favor and took care of him, too. He won’t outright ask for it, and might even tell you that it’s fine, you don’t need to trouble yourself for him, but it would make him feel incredibly loved if you gave him a massage or helped clean him up.

Kaveh is very picky, so he wants to change the bedsheets after sex because he doesn’t like the idea of sleeping on soiled sheets. If you’re not up for it, some gentle persuasion and distraction can convince him to let it go and fall asleep in your arms instead. Be prepared to change the sheets first thing in the morning, though.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

On himself, Kaveh likes his face and hair. He’s very meticulous about his appearance and takes great care of his looks. It’s important to him that he looks his best. He has clear and smooth skin, delicate features, and very soft hair. Kaveh is very proud of his looks, so any compliments you give him on his appearance swell his ego. Please give him more.

On you, he loves your breasts. Don’t get him wrong, he thinks you’re beautiful from head to toe, but your breasts hold a special significance to him. After a rough day of dealing with insufferable clients or going through another misfortunate mishap, Kaveh loves nothing more than to lay his head on your soft chest and listen to your heartbeat. He treats your breasts like a pillow, but he finds comfort in being able to rest on top of you like that, especially since he gets to be so close to your heart.

Aside from this innocent reason, Kaveh also simply loves breasts. He’s attracted to their softness, their rounded shape, and overall how feminine they make you look. Expect him to squeeze and kiss them a lot during sex.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Prefers to cum inside you (provided you’re both using protection) because he wants to avoid making a mess. Plus, he finds it more pleasurable to finish inside you while your walls squeeze around him. It makes him feel a more intimate connection to you.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Kaveh will never show them to you if he can help it, but he has a few pages worth of sketches of you naked. Sometimes he daydreams about being intimate with you while he doodles and absentmindedly draws some of his thoughts on paper. There are a few drawings of just you sprawled out in sensual poses, while others show both you and Kaveh having sex in a variety of poses or him all but worshipping your figure with his lips and hands as if you were a goddess. The sketches look really good, but Kaveh is too embarrassed to show them to you. He’ll be mortified if you saw them, but maybe one day you’ll have the luxury of glimpsing into his dirty thoughts.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Kaveh has some experience from drunken one-night stands, though not a lot. Ideally, he wanted to save himself for a long-term partner since he likes the idea of sharing his first time with someone he loves. He views sex as an important step in a romantic relationship, after all. Unfortunately, back when he drank heavily to drown out his sorrows, his inebriation made him thoughtlessly seek comfort from unfamiliar women, which usually resulted in sex.

Though he would have liked to experience his first time with you instead of a stranger, Kaveh sees a silver lining in the situation in that he at least knows how to please a woman and has confidence in his performance.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

His favorites are anything that allows him to see your face and be as close to you as possible, so things like missionary or lotus are his go-to. It allows him to hold hands, kiss your face and neck, and watch your expression contort in pleasure, which boosts his ego because he knows he’s making you feel good. If Kaveh is tipsy, he might take you against the wall with your leg hooked around his waist, but overall, he prefers to have sex on the bed or sofa where it’s more comfortable.

One of the few times he opts for taking you from behind is when he’s jealous. Kaveh will thrust into you from behind in doggy style or with you braced against a wall while standing, his arms wrapped around you to press your back flush against his chest. It’s the perfect position for marking up the skin on your neck and back so other people will know you’re taken. He has a bit of a possessive streak that rears its head when he’s jealous.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Kaveh approaches sex seriously, but that’s not to say he won’t laugh or smile while getting intimate with you. He treats sex like a special event where you become one in mind, body, and heart, deepening the love you have for one another. It’s an emotionally charged activity for him. Nonetheless, he tries to keep it lighthearted enough to ease your nerves and keep you relaxed so you can enjoy the moment as much as possible.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He’s clean-shaven down there. Kaveh prefers the smooth feel and look of being shaven, but if he lets his pubic hair grow out, they’ll be a darker shade of blond than his hair.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Kaveh doesn’t fuck, he makes love. As mentioned before, sex is an emotionally charged event for Kaveh. He bares his heart to you throughout the entire process, repeatedly tells you he loves you, tenderly caresses your body, and gives you more kisses than you can count. He’s a romantic person in general, and that carries over into the bedroom, as well.

He likes to maintain eye-contact while he makes love to you, and often rests his forehead against yours while gazing into your eyes. He also has a tendency to lace his fingers with yours during the act, especially when he’s close to climax.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Prior to meeting you, he might have masturbated once or twice a week to relieve stress. After he met you, Kaveh began masturbating more frequently. Once he fell in love with you, his desire for you grew in every sense of the word, so he often jacked off to thoughts of you. If you aren’t in a relationship yet, he feels guilty afterward for thinking of you in such a lewd manner, but he’d still find his mind wandering over to you every time he needed to rub one out.

Once in a relationship, he’ll masturbate less often since you usually help him release his lust, but if you’re unavailable, he’ll use his hand as a substitute. It doesn’t replace you quite as well, but it does the trick when he needs to relieve stress.

Kaveh makes sure to masturbate when he knows he’s home alone because despite his best efforts to stay quiet, he knows he can be vocal while jacking off, and the last thing he wants is for someone to catch on to what he’s doing in his room. He sometimes also uses the sketches he made of you to get his imagination going, which helps him come faster.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Likes to worship your body with kisses and gentle caresses, and give you lots of praise (likes to receive praise as well). Also really into giving oral, fingering, and overstimulating you.

Since Kaveh likes breasts, it’s a massive turn-on for him when you envelop his dick in your boobs. Getting him off with your soft flesh while sucking on the tip of his penis and maintaining eye-contact with him has him climaxing embarrassingly quick.

He also enjoys playing with your breasts and nipples. His hands are almost always gravitating towards your chest during lovemaking, so expect him to knead your boobs and gently pinch and roll your nipples. And please be vocal about how his touches make you feel good, Kaveh adores hearing your moans and sighs of pleasure, and gets easily aroused by them.

When he doms, he likes to blindfold you or use light restraints like his hands, belts, or scarves. Kaveh also likes light foodplay, such as placing fruits or drizzling chocolate or whipped cream on your body and then licking it off. He likes you and he likes those foods, so it's the best of both worlds for him.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Only at home, and preferably on the bed. Kaveh feels most comfortable having sex in the privacy of his home where nobody can walk in on you. As mentioned, he’s very conscious of how he presents himself to the world, and being caught by other people in such a compromising situation will mortify him. He might get handsy with you out in public if he’s drunk, but he still waits to get home before doing anything truly raunchy.

Kaveh also likes having sex on soft surfaces for the sake of your and his comfort, but he’s not opposed to taking you against a wall or table. Still, he’ll absolutely fuck you in the kitchen and the bathroom if the mood strikes and you let him.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

The quickest way to turn him on is to express how much you want him sexually. Even if your seduction technique isn’t top notch, Kaveh still falls for your charms because nothing gets him going as easily as knowing he’s desired by you. Aside from that, Kaveh also gets turned on by your sultry voice, from seeing you dressed in revealing clothing (especially if it shows off your cleavage), or when your kisses turns heated.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything that has the potential to hurt you gets a hard no from him. He absolutely refuses to hit you. The most he might try is light spanking, but even then, he still feels bad for causing you pain even if it's something you’re into. He also doesn’t like degrading you, and isn’t good at it, either. You’re very important to him, so he hates the thought of hurting you in any way.

Kaveh also isn’t into exhibitionism or choking. The former because he likes to keep his sex life private, and the latter because it could cause you harm. He doesn’t like receiving any of those things, either. He’s emotionally sensitive and takes such treatment towards himself poorly.

In that vein, Kaveh also hates the idea of sharing you with another person, so he’s against threesomes. It would make him feel horrible to see you being so intimate with someone other than him, and would trigger his insecurities and make him feel like he wasn’t good enough to please you or that you’ll leave him for another.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

As much as Kaveh enjoys getting head from you, at his core he’s a very selfless lover, and has a strong preference for burying his face between your legs and licking at your folds and clit until you come undone on his tongue. Seeing you fall apart from his mouth turns him on immensely, and he sometimes ejaculates in his pants while giving you oral.

Kaveh gets pussy drunk easily and tends to get carried away by eating you out until you’ve had several orgasms from his mouth alone. Even if you’re writhing and begging him to stop because it’s too overstimulating, Kaveh can get so lost in giving you pleasure, that he might not register what you’re saying right away. He’ll hold your hips down and spread your legs apart to feast on your dripping folds, dipping his tongue inside and sucking on your clit to make you moan. The sight of your blissful face and the sounds of your moans and gasps are too addictive for him. Eating you out is one of his favorite things about sex.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

As mentioned previously, Kaveh doesn’t fuck—he makes love. Usually, sex with Kaveh is sensual and romantic. He wants to take his time appreciating the moment, reveling in the opportunity to make love and share such an intimate experience with you. The speed of his thrusts ranges from slow to moderate, but he goes deep.

That said, he has times when he craves something fast and a little rough. If he’s extremely horny, Kaveh tends to set a faster pace, snapping his hips to yours in sharp thrusts. Other times are when he’s jealous or frustrated. In such scenarios, he usually takes a rougher approach as a way to vent his emotions, thrusting into you hard and fast, but still tries to be gentle enough so as to not hurt you.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Kaveh prefers to have longer sessions where he has ample time to worship and please your body the way he thinks you deserve, but if he’s horny enough, he’ll accept a quickie. How often you engage in quickies depends on you because Kaveh can’t say no to you. Express a strong desire to have him right here and now, and he’ll get so turned on that he won’t be able to deny you. He might complain or scold you for propriety’s sake, but he’ll still give it to you because he wants nothing more than to make you happy.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Tends to err on the side of caution, so he’s not very experimental. If it’s a new thing Kaveh thinks won’t cause either of you harm, or something he’s on the fence about, then he might agree to try something new with a bit of convincing on your part. However, if he deems it unsafe, he’ll refuse.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Tends to go for 1-2 rounds, but because he likes to take his time pleasing you, they last for quite a while. Rest assured, you’ll be thoroughly pleased. The most rounds he can go for before becoming too exhausted is 3, but that rarely happens due to how busy and tired he is from staying up late for work.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Doesn’t own any toys since he believes that you are all he needs. Kaveh likes to feel your warm touch directly on his skin which is why he prefers that you get him off yourself than with a cold, plastic toy. Toys can be fun, but he likes the intimacy of feeling your touch on him.

Kaveh is good at tinkering and crafting mechanical items (think Mehrak and the butterflies from the Darshan event), so he can craft you a vibrator or dildo in the shape of his penis if you’re into using toys on yourself.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He tried to tease you in the past by giving you teasing touches and denying you orgasm, but as you quickly found out, Kaveh has a hard time saying no to you when you beg him. It’s difficult for him to deny you in general because he’s so selfless. When it comes to sex, he would rather please you and hear your wanton moans of delight than deny you pleasure. This usually results in you being overstimulated rather than edged.

He’s not above verbally teasing you, though. Kaveh occasionally engages in some light teasing, such as pointing out how needy you are by saying, “You’re so needy for me, love. Do you want it that bad?” with an amused chuckle. He likes to tease you in this manner if you let him.

However, if he’s feeling jealous, Kaveh will show a surprising resilience to your begging. He’ll still give in eventually, but to get back at you for making him jealous (even if not on purpose), he’ll circle his thumb over your clit but pull away every time you’re close to cumming. He likes the feeling of control it gives him, and knowing that only he can give you the orgasm you so desperately want.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Kaveh tends to be louder than he wants because he has a hard time holding his voice back. He’s very vocal when he has sex, constantly letting out breathy moans, sighs, and gasps, and can get quite loud when he's really into it.

Kaveh also talks a fair bit during foreplay and lovemaking. He showers you in praises, calls you beautiful, repeatedly tells you he loves you (especially when he’s close to climax), and lets you know how good you’re making him feel. He’s not shy about communicating with you during sex and hopes you can do the same.

He would like it if you let your voice out more because your moans drive him crazy in a good way, but he’s understanding if you’re uncomfortable with being loud. Another one of his favorite things during sex is hearing you say you love him and that he’s making you feel good while he makes love to you.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Kaveh is a gentle dom! Once he’s certain that you’re comfortable with submitting to him, and he knows your boundaries and preferences, Kaveh won’t have any reservations about dominating you. He’s naturally prideful, confident, and assertive, and these traits transition well to his role as a dom.

Since he’s a giving lover, when he dominates, he aims to make you feel good. Everything he does is with your pleasure in mind because he enjoys giving you pleasure more than he does receiving it. He’s far from a pillow princess, and it wouldn’t sit right with him to lay there and accept being serviced without doing something for you in return, so expect him to mostly focus on getting you off.

As a gentle dom, he likes to hold your wrists in his hand or use light bondage on you (blindfolds or tying your hands up) or pin you down to the bed using his weight. Kaveh also gives you a lot of encouragement and praise when he dominates you, saying things like “Good girl, you’re doing so well for me” or “It’s too much? I think you can go for one more. Won’t you give me another orgasm, love? I know you have it in you” followed by tender kisses and loving caresses.

I have more headcanons about dominant Kaveh here. I will most likely write more for this in the future too when I make general nsfw headcanons for him.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Has a very pretty cock, as odd as that sounds. It’s 12cm (4.7 inches) in length and 11cm (4.3 inches) in girth. Has a pretty pink tip.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Fairly average. Kaveh usually has sex with you two to three times per week if his and your schedules allow, and if he hadn't exhausted himself with frequent all-nighters. Kaveh can’t go more than a week without sex, though.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

The exhaustion takes over Kaveh pretty quickly, but he’s good at resisting the pull of sleep long enough to give you aftercare and change the sheets. However, if you express a desire to cuddle right after sex, there’s a good chance Kaveh will fall asleep in your arms. Sex takes a lot of energy out of him.

Kaveh tends to stay up late to work on commissions for his clients and doesn’t get enough sleep sometimes, even refusing to go to bed when you ask. When he’s being stubborn like this, one of the most effective methods you can use to get him to bed is sucking him off. Kaveh will complain and protest that he has work to do, but as soon as you make him orgasm, the tiredness will catch up with him and he’ll get sleepy. Giving Kaveh a blowjob before bed is actually a great way to calm his anxious thoughts about work and get him to join you for a night of well-deserved rest.

[channnel]

Finally got to finish adult James Orion on the Buck-stayed!Au, where James and Alan are full-blooded-brothers cause of their father staying.

(Full body reference sheet under)

I actually finished this since July- but I didn't end up liking adult James' design cause he still looks a lot like Alan. So, I drew those doodles to make myself attach to it.

Most of the major things in the actual story still happened, but with just some different actions and outcomes.

Random facts:

Talked to his mother a lot after the first incident happened, often relaying what Alan wants to say to her. Ophelia stayed with them until James was 15.

Doesn't remember much of Ophelia when he was young, so Buck told him every memory he had with her. Cherished his mother's memory by dyeing his hair the same color as her.

Wants to find Alan, he's still not near to his location though. He does visit forests a lot and even set up camp to stay overnight, just in case.

Generally a somewhat friendly yet strange individual- he doesn't have a filter, he's genuine on his actions and words, will help you bury a body if you give him something in return (like food or money). His personality is more akin to.. a bit of Wayne, and a bit of Dipper- I have an idea on his personality,I just don't know how to explain it.

He's been looking for Alan since he was 20. The 2nd incident caused by Alan left him ostracised. He stopped showing to class one day, and spent his time with his dad or alone in the forest.

Has bad memory, remembers people by experience/vibe, and often gets names mixed up, so he just settles on with nicknames.

Can feel pain, but he has a somewhat high tolerance on it- he does have a weird sense of taste.

Buck helped him get his own van when he told him that he wanted to find his older brother. He understood that his father's own van was special.

Talks to himself a lot. Will stare and mumble at a random object in the ground or in front of him for minutes if he feels like he forgot something important. The longest he stared was two minutes, and that's when he was supposed to go to Jules' house for Thanksgiving.

Will get a temporary job and stay in one place if he needs the money. Sometimes, he pickpockets and steals.

Will come back to a place if he likes it, or if he made a friend there.

Has a separate notepad for his doodles. Most of it are things he sees while driving. He lost seven of them.

Delusional and clingy when attached.

That's all for tonight- hope y'all like it.

[milkbobatyun]

false hope

pairing: nanami x gn!reader

genre: angstober, events

summary: he promised to take you to malaysia, to retire and live out your days. yet it was all empty promises and false hopes.

word count: 999

a/n: i hate gege it's official TT why did he kill off nanami :(

a sliver of moonlight streaks through the gap in the curtain, peeking in on the two lovers, limbs tangled together, drawing in the warmth of each other.

you were securely cradled in the gentle hold of nanami’s arms, as the two of you discussed your future plans. the sheets rustled as you shuffled into a more comfortable position, resting your ear against nanami’s chest, listening to his soothing heartbeat.

“we’ll retire after i’m finished with this last mission, then we’ll move to malaysia, far away from this dangerous job of eliminating curses and that vexing idiot, gojo.” nanami promised, conviction in his steady voice.

you chuckled at his statement, envisioning living by the beach, the warmth of the sun shining down on you. your fingers traced doodles of seashells, conches and fish on his chest, tickling him with your soft finger pads.

“but what about your work?” you enquired, tilting your head up to peer at him in the gloom.

nanami squinted down at you, a smile stretched across his face. a deep rumbling vibrated against his chest.

“love, this job plays pretty well and i’ve saved enough to ensure that you can travel and do whatever your heart desires.” he boasted, drawing circles from where his hands rested on your hips. “in fact,” nanami added, after a moment of thought. “we’ll live a lavish life, by the seaside, with a private beach and an infinity pool, so you can swim to your heart’s content. we’ll hire some maids too, so you can get the rest you deserve.”

nanami’s fingers interlaced with yours, as he lifted them from beneath the cosy sheets, littering kisses across your hand.

your other hand tapped rhythms against his chest as you hummed thoughtfully.

“that sounds like a good life,” you agreed. 

“but first,” you turned yourself around, stealing some of the blanket from nanami before you propped yourself onto your elbows. “you should get enough rest and be ready to be on call tomorrow.” you tapped his cheek with your finger, placing a kiss at the corner of his lips before you settled yourself back into the warmth of his arms.

long after your breathing had steadied, nanami lay awake, studying your face, etching it into his memories. nobody promised tonight wouldn’t be the last night he would be able to see you, hear your voice, hold you in his arms, so he was going to take all the time he could scrape together, to spend with you.

—-

the next morning, nanami woke up to the sunrays beaming upon his face. his arms felt empty. your side of the bed was cold, meaning you had gotten up early and left. stumbling from the warmth of the sheets, nanami padded into the kitchen to try and find you.

hearing footfalls behind you, you turned around, a smile radiating so brightly from your face it could rival the sun. with a cheeky grin still plastered on your face, you presented nanami the breakfast you had prepared with extra care, bread from his favourite bakery along with eggs just how he liked it and a glass of milk.

despite himself, the corners of his lips turned upwards.

you patted down his suit, adjusting his tie, before leaving a quick kiss on his lips. with child-like mischief, your fingers threaded their way through his hair, tousling his neat hairstyle.

nanami playfully groaned at your actions, a teasing look of disapproval shot towards you, before his arms engulfed you into a hug. he dipped you gently, placing a departing kiss on your lips.

he hoped that he would make it back into your arms after tomorrow.

he never did. every morning, you waited by the door for hours, hoping you would hear the doorbell ring, signalling his return. you grasped tightly to the hope that he would walk through your doors, a small smile on his face as he complained about gojo and his energetic students.

the doorbell never rang. 

until one day, it echoed around the house with blazing clarity, not a figment of your imagination.

when you cracked open the door, you’re greeted by three teenagers. you easily recognise them. after all, you’ve heard many fond stories from your husband. the pink-haired, energetic and mischievous itadori-kun, as nanami would refer to him as. the quiet, well-meaning dark haired boy, fushiguro megumi. and the famous kugisaki nobara, who namami had said that you would get along swell with.

what a shame you couldn’t be introduced earlier, on less grim terms.

“um,” yuji began hesitantly, “you’re nanami-sensei’s spouse?” he continued, shuffling awkwardly on the doorstep. behind, megumi and nobara exchanged exasperated glances at each other.

you nodded, inviting them inside for a cup of tea and a sit down. after much hushed discussion and a whack from nobara, the trio agreed, stepping into the house.

they looked around with curious eyes, noting how they could see hints of nanami in the house decor.

seated around the pristine white coffee table, nobara pulled a handwritten letter from her bag, sliding it across to you.

picking it up, your eyes catch sight of what is written on the front.

“to my beloved spouse, the light of my world”

in his elegant handwriting. you thought you had cried enough since he left and never came back, but once again, your throat tightens, as you finally allow the tears that you had been holding back since the trio had entered slip. 

the trio are kind enough to look away and give you your moments of privacy to scan through the letter. a shaky sob escapes your throat, as you bring the letter up to your lips, giving it a final goodbye kiss.

the faint scent of his cologne wafts to your nose, a fresh wave of tears springing up.

“thank you.” you whisper. you’re not sure who you’re thanking. nanami, for all the wonderful years he had accompanied with you, since childhood, or the trio, for bringing his final letter to you.

taglist (open): @yeonjunsfox

∧,,,∧ ( ̳• · • ̳)  © curated with love by milkbobayun 2024 / づ ♡

[lazywitchling]

It's NOT a New Years resolution. We've talked about this.

But since I am starting a new planner, I have blocked off a little section for three things: Consume, Create, Maintain. And each day, I want to have at least one thing in each box.

Consume can be: Watch movie. Scroll social media. Look at pretty art. Play video game. Read book. Listen to music. Listen to podcast. Drink a latte. Have a candy. Brew some of the fancy tea. Etc.

Create can be: Draw, paint, doodle. Crochet. Write a long blog post. Write in my journal. Put stickers in my journal. Work on a jigsaw puzzle. Make some food that involves more than opening a box. Have an in-depth chat about our D&D characters with friend. Arrange trinkets on a shelf to be aesthetically pleasing. Create a playlist. Etc.

Maintain can be: Text friend and ask what's new. Write a letter to grandma. Call sister. Dust off the bookshelf. Put away that half finished craft project. Brush the cat, or clip his nails. Change the sheets. Go grocery shopping. Use a sheet mask. Use that leave-in conditioner. Throw out that dried-up nail polish. Etc.

Because y'all know that otherwise my ADHD ass will pick ONE of those categories and do it ALL DAY until I collapse.

[pampanope]

Graves Headcanons from Shadows’ POV (Part 1):

((Or, i wanna share some silly hc in this format in between all the art stuff • 3•))

Every Shadow, from the grizzled Spec Ops operator to the fresh faced civilian, no matter what background or experience, always had Graves as that one topic of gossip they turned to when things got too slow.

It’s become both habit and sport to catalog every detail of their Commander and then discuss their findings in a twisted peer review, preferably with alcohol involved, as if gathering intel on a high value target before the op.

Through the years it had been tradition for Elder Shadows to pass on Graves ‘lore’ to the newest Shadows and encourage them to take up the hobby of Graves Watching (it’s effective observation training, you see…if you happen to catch feelings for the boss, well, it’s par for the course)

There’s a ‘published’ (a fat binder of loose leaf) Graves Manual floating around,(bland cover and backing and with dick doodles all over for extra camouflage, pockets full of photos of the Commander from various angles) on base with multiple entries:

- first notable observation: Graves is fucking pretty. Too pretty (and relatively young) to be head of a band of mercenaries. And he knows he’s pretty (been seen smirking at tongue tied, blushing baby Shadows and civilians alike). Rival PMCs and militaries, on the rare chance SC has to cooperate with them, would ogle in envy as the Commander strutted around and barked orders in his tight preferred BDUs (the Shadows preen with pride at this. Every. Damn. Time)

- Graves is every bit the outspoken Texas stereotype. He’s loud, worships at the alter of Texas Barbecue, an avid Dallas Cowboys fan (staff found a jersey in his closet), had been winning gun competitions since he was old enough to compete (off-hand boast from the man himself) and blasts country music both out of love for the genre and out of sadistic spite (Every cookout. The trick is to get a stealthy Shadow to switch playlists while Graves is busy grilling)

- but he’s also been observed waiting for his Shadows to finish speaking, listening intently with full on eye contact (a bit overwhelming for the newbies). He prefers to workout in the evenings, alone, when everyone else would be in the rec rooms or asleep. He’ll take his tablet up to the roof and work in solitude drafting tedious emails or planning a difficult op. There are days, when nothing of note is scheduled, when he’ll almost retreat into himself and bask in the Company’s presence instead of engage.

- it’s this duality that started the Shadows’ fixation on Graves: a pretty loudmouth with Depth (the Shadows chuckled over this description but it was true dammit)

-the man is tight lipped about his childhood and family; braver Shadows have asked but were diverted to other topics or out right shut down (Note: more data needed on this!)

-his personal quarters are spotless and put together (bed made with sheets tightly tucked in, boots shined and neatly placed, everything in its place), his meeting room where he entertains clients is pristine and posh in furnishings, and yet his work office is an utter disaster, organized chaos is a charitable descriptor.

-the Shadows conclude each room represents a facet of the man; the orderly quarters is habit driven from years as a Marine, the opulent meeting room is the face of a successful CEO he wants to present to the world, and his work room, the one filled with binders, reports, coffee stains, knick knacks from his Shadows, is the realest representation of Graves out of the three, the Graves only they were privy to (high fives were exchanged over this big brain discovery, the Shadow who posited this theory was promptly dog piled)

((More to come, just wanted to vomit out these ✨t h o u g h t s✨))