#maybe the real fine arts were the friends we made along the way

[dateamonster]

My vampire ex-boyfriend is stalking me. This is not an unusual occurrence. Even when we were still dating he was always doing this, he just used to be more obvious about it because if I called him out he already had a line locked and loaded about how he was only looking out for me. And sure, I'll admit that I've had more than the average number of near-death experiences for a seventeen year old, but at the risk of rehashing old arguments, a lot of that could've been avoided if he'd just turned me the first time I asked.

I've broken things off with my vampire ex-boyfriend a couple times before, usually for about the same reasons, but this time it's different. I think he's noticed it too. I'm not grieving anymore, not holing myself up in my room listening to sad music watching every gray day pass me by. I've talked to my friends, then to my dad, and they're on my side. My dad took a little longer to come around, but it helped that his best friend's son went through the same thing. It's good to have people around who want to support me, not just protect me.

My vampire ex-boyfriend didn't want me to be a vampire like him. He didn't want me to have sex, with him or anyone else. He didn't want me to go out with my friends without him there, but he also didn't want to come along. He didn't want me to go out after dark. He didn't want me to cut my hair. But he liked me, he really liked me. He liked that I didn't ever show much skin even in the summer. He liked that I didn't have any real hobbies or passions so that he could be the one to introduce me to music and fine art and literature. He liked that I kept my innermost thoughts so buried that they were a secret even to me.

I don't know for sure if I want to be a vampire anymore. I think I might, or at the very least I want to keep my options open, but it doesn't feel as urgent now that I know there are other ways to change myself. I used to think I needed it to be close to him. He was so beautiful, is so beautiful. My vampire ex-boyfriend, with his serious, brooding stare and his model chin and his body carved from the center of a pale diamond, his chiseled angles sharp enough to cut with just a glance. And then me beside him, with my long mousy hair and my fragile frame hidden beneath overlarge shirts and jeans when even a knee-length skirt made me feel too exposed. For all his sanguineous habits, I was the parasite, and he was the genuine article, and maybe that's why it hurt so much to have him reject me again and again. All I ever wanted was to burrow into his colorless skin, to feel what it was like to be strong and unyielding. My vampire ex-boyfriend hated his perfect body. He waxed poetic about my warmth, my softness. Maybe we were more alike than I thought in the end.

I load my old pickup truck full of lumber and nails and feel pleased by how much easier it is now that I've started to put on a little muscle. Working with my hands makes me feel more grounded in my body, so dad's enlisted my help in some of his DIY projects around the house. My collection of bandages is growing, from splinters and slips and the occasional dropped hammer, but my coordination grows a fraction less abysmal each day, and if I spill blood there's no one there to wince and whine about it.

I put a lock on my bedroom window. I pin photographs to my wall documenting my changes from month to month. Dad shows me how to shave without cutting myself, despite my insistence that if I could figure out my legs I can figure out my face. I smile more days than I don't. I still turn my head in the same direction when I hear a loud crack from beyond the treeline that's not quite thunder. I still visit his family, when he's not around. In another life I know his parents would've treated me like one of their own.

Just as I'm climbing into the driver's seat I hear a voice from the shadows, whispering the name of a stranger. I drive away. I've got no more interest in raising the dead.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for not befriending my partner’s new friends?

So I (21 nb) didn’t go to college, but my partner (22 nb) did and graduated last spring a little after we met-we’re both pretty outgoing people and I have a fair amount of my own friends, but because of this and their involvement with the local art scene, they have much bigger social circles than I do. When we first got to know each other, I met a lot of their friends and really gelled with them and became friends with them in my own right as well. Recently though (like the past 2 months) they’ve befriended a handful of people who seem to really dislike me. These people haven’t done anything cruel to me, but they avoid me at group gatherings and seem to go out of their way not to talk to me or engage when I try to reach out the same way I did with my partner’s other friends when I met them. We’re also polyamorous, and I know my partner is dating/sleeping with two of them, which makes me kind of uncomfortable given how they treat me, but isn’t something I want to bring up in our relationship.

At first when I mentioned it to shared friends, they suggested maybe the new people are just shy/socially awkward and don’t understand how to interact with people. This seemed plausible to me, but it still made me uncomfortable, especially because these people also frequently loudly discuss how much they don’t like bands/artists/movies that they know I really enjoy. I tried harder to engage or invite them to parties and stuff like that at my apartment to get to know them better, but they never responded or told me through my partner that they were too busy (which is again plausible-we all work a lot and our schedules don’t always line up). I don’t have a ton in common with these people and I don’t think my partner and I need to get along with ALL each other’s friends, so I recently decided to stop putting the effort in to get along with them. I did eventually bring it up to my partner and basically just said I didn’t think I fit in with them very well/they didn’t seem really interested in me. My partner blamed themself for it at first, but I made it clear that I didn’t feel they were at fault given that they’ve introduced us all and haven’t been particularly sketchy in terms of trying to hide me from their friends or vice versa-we Have all spent time together. I was satisfied with just having made my feelings known and thought things were fine, but now my partner is mad and saying that I haven’t given their new friends a real chance and that I don’t care about their (the friends) feelings because I’m not engaging in the kind of things they like to do/am putting down their interests. I have said a few times in front of these people that I didn’t like certain genres of fiction that they’re into and things like that, but I wasn’t trying to be mean and didn’t think they would care given how they talk about my & each other’s interests. It didn’t occur to me that their feelings might be hurt because again, they haven’t talked to me any of the times I’ve tried to start conversations or say hi, so I assumed my opinion wouldn’t mean much to them. That being said, I definitely did feel uncomfortable with them in a way that might have come across, and recently I have stopped trying to say hi and have been avoiding seeing them/have kind of given up on trying to get to know them at all.

AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[lya-dustin]

A Comedy of Non-mathematical Errors

Chapter 2

Michael is not allowed to keep most of his clothing after mummy dearest looked over his current wardrobe.

She had looked faint when he explained the practicality of his favorite cargo pants that turned into cargo shorts thanks to the nifty zippers. Even better he’d gotten them on sale.

“We will donate all your old clothes to charity.” The blonde woman had said only letting him keep his underwear and a handful of things that passed her inspection.

He was not at all surprised to know by charity Elspeth meant the garbage can.

But she did like how clean and organized he was and told Felix that was the right way to keep one’s room.

“Should we do something about his hair, mum?” Venetia asks, looking at him as if he were her personal Ken doll. She’d picked out some of his clothes, made him get a suit that matched a dress she was going to wear ---and made him and Felix buy two matching outfits.

Now she wants to cut his hair.

“What’s wrong with my hair?” he dares to ask. If you ask him its pretty great, especially because he did it himself.

“Nothing, sweetheart.” His mother said and yet he is dragged to a high-end barber shop despite his protests. “Felix, make sure your brother gets a nice haircut that doesn’t look like a blind man with blunted shears did it.”

Ouch.

“You’ll be fine with just a trim, Mikey.” Felix says with a smile that makes Michael wince at the nickname as harmless as it is. But the trip to the barber is a relief compared to the endless shopping of yesterday with Elspeth and Venetia.

Michael is given a luxury spa treatment along with Felix who has the same preferences as him despite the difference in socioeconomic statuses.

“I invited Ollie home for the summer, felt so bad for not telling him about us being brothers and his dad dying, I told him he could come visit us.” Felix attempts to be friends were all cut short by Michael who wasn’t sure how to even go from there.

Apparently, Sir James enjoyed Countdown, Venetia wanted to pursue fashion, Elspeth had a DPhil in Art History and spent her life collecting art while Felix attempts to write a novel because if someone is going to write the Cattons in this generation it must be one of them.

Despite their vapid ways, Michael supposed not everyone who acts like an airhead may actually be an airhead. A tough thing to incorporate into your world view when you’ve spent the school year seeing Felix and Farleigh with the same copy of Harry Potter pretending to read. Once they’d even held the book upside down.

“Your mum told me about it, yeah. Does he know what happened?” Michael hopes his ditzy twin brother completely forgot.

“Fuck. I can’t remember.” Maybe Felix was a real ditz, the way they talked about the Catton heir being a genius, his parents must’ve feared leaving everything in his hands. But his stupidity makes this all easier.

“After he tossed me off to hang out with you at the pub, I told him we weren’t friends anymore.” Because he is an opportunistic bootlicking cunt.

The more he learned about Oliver Quick the more he sounded like a fucking psychopath. What’s next dressing up as his mum? Killing any girl Felix talks to?

“Oh, he’d said you had already left. I only talked to him so he could invite you to join us. I liked your shirt, have one like it, just can’t find it in the mess.” Felix sits by his open window to smoke ---Michael detests the smell--- and gave a small laugh as he mentions his pigsty of a room.

“Actually, he pretended not to see me when I came back,” Michael isn’t even surprised Poor Dear Ollie had lied about that too. “Maybe it’s better if he doesn’t know I’m here.”

Michael’s terrible at talking or persuasion, and yet, it doesn’t take much to convince Felix to make his presence here a surprise.

Saltburn is nice, a touch gaudy and weird, but other than that the place looks fine.

His room is across Felix’s with Venetia next door and a guest room for a friend on the other side of the luxury bathroom that was bigger than his old bedroom.

“Mum has a fear of ugly things, I wouldn’t wear these if I were you.” Venetia plucks his glasses off his face and Michael swats at her blindly trying to get them back. He only succeeds accidentally grabbing her nose before giving up

“See how handsome you look? You look like Uncle Micah.” The bleached blonde girl shows him his own mirror to tell him so.

“Can’t fucking see, Venetia.” He points out and squints at his own reflection trying to see if she was being honest and not flattering him out of pity.

Plenty of people loved telling him he could look great if he tried. He’s pretty sure he looks like Shaggy from Scooby-Doo right now and tells his younger sister so.

“Mum’s fine with the glasses, its piercings she doesn’t like.” Felix easily takes the glasses out of Venetia’s hands and carefully puts them back on Michael’s face. “Voila.”

“What do you think, Mike?” they ask when he gets a good look at himself.

And sure, enough he looks like someone who could get any girl or invite he desired. Michael Gavey was gone; Michael Catton had taken his place.

Oliver is going to regret dropping him for Felix.

[red-dye40]

iunno if you're still doing the directors cut thing but -> 💫

yes! always until the end of time because i love to talk!

here’s some commentary for ancaux chapter 9:

“You can get started on his limbs. I recommend below the joints for first-timers; it won’t be as clean but it’ll be easier, and you can take breaks between the ulna and the radius–” he points, with the tip of the machete, to the forearms, “–and the tibia and fibula–” he points, next, to the calves, “–if it gets too tough.”

i do think that, as an active homicidal maniac, nny had his own stupid names for bones, since i don’t imagine he was ever a serial killer who like studied the human form??? i think he just kinda learned as he went along and never opened a book on anatomy in his life. because the body is disgusting to him. HOWEVER i have this idea that, in this au where he gets help and treatment, he still obviously has his natural curiosity and lust for killin, and so sometimes he’ll like check out a bunch of anatomy and biology books from the library to quell his ~urges~, and maybe a more sterile and clinical approach will make him less inclined to act on anything. nerd.

Without a head, with his limbs all twisted to fit more securely in the fridge, with his bizarrely expensive but otherwise unimpressive clothes soaked in dried blood, he doesn’t look much like a person anymore. He looks kind of pathetic, definitely more than a little silly.

i spent my late teens / early 20s exclusively around art students because my sister was a fine arts major and i didn’t go to college so i had no friends otherwise :) her like closest friends were this group of extremely rich kids posing as poor kids and it was so bizarre to experience. they only dressed in ratty clothes but upon further investigation they were actually like one-of-one designer pieces that cost hundreds of dollars and crazy shit like that, and they only ate cigarettes and shitty shitty beer. i went to a party at one of their apartments once and it was inside this like seemingly derelict warehouse, but when we got in it turned out the whole place had been gut-renovated, and he lived in a lofted penthouse with roof access, and everyone there was like smoking weed and giving each other the shittiest tattoos ive ever seen, and i found out his dad paid for his rent and the nelson mandela tattoo thing i mention in later chapters? is based on a Real Thing i saw with my eyes at this party.

“Rigor mortis only lasts like a day.” He plops another finger chunk in a trashbag. “After that, they get all gooshy again.” “I didn’t know that.” “We actually got in at the perfect time!” Johnny continues gratefully. “The window between rigor mortis and true decomposition is small, if nonexistent. Both are extremely unpleasant in their own ways, obviously, but I personally detest the smell of putrefaction. And house flies are annoying.” He wipes a gory gloved hand across the front of his poncho. “So this is really ideal.”

HYPERFIXATION!!!!!! SPECIAL INTEREST IS DEATH AND DECAY!

“The little junkyard doggies love this stuff.” He shakes the contractor bag–its contents make vile, macaroni and cheese-type squishing sounds. “I toss them out my window when I drive by, and they maul each other to try and get to ‘em. It’s so cute.”

i love the little glimpses of weird things nny finds cute that we get in jthm and on the johnny c twitter. i want more of that.

“Does your trunk open with the key, or is there one of those secret buttons somewhere in the front I have to press?” “Oh, the trunk doesn’t open.” Devi freezes in the doorway. She digs her nails into the frame. Slowly, in her comedically loud poncho, she turns to look Nny in his dumb face. “...the trunk doesn’t open… at all?”“Nooooooo, I made a bunch of oobleck for the neighbor kid–I was going to teach him a valuable lesson about the dangers of quicksand and quicksand-adjacent colloids–but then I forgot about it in my trunk during a week-long heat wave and it all kind of exploded.” “And so the trunk doesn’t open.” “Nope.” Johnny finally understands the problem. “Oh damn.” “Yeah, Nny.” Devi grits her teeth. “Yeah, ‘oh damn.’”

SQUEE MENTION 🗣️🗣️🗣️ i think this is one of my fav exchanges in the whole fic. i love for nny to be a huge idiot. i love devi to want to kill him for being a huge idiot.

“If I let you drive, you’re gonna play some fuckin’ irritating classical music you downloaded from LimeWire, and you’re gonna stop at every Cum-N-Go for some cherry flavored swill, and then you’re gonna need to go pee-pees every twenty minutes, and I really really REALLY don’t have the patience for any of that right now, Jonathan.”

this is funny because johnny’s name is most certainly not jonathan. devi knows this.

“If I recall correctly, you slaughtered an entire movie theater’s worth of people when The Fifth Element didn’t meet your IMPOSSIBLY HIGH EXPECTATIONS?? YES?” “IT HAD SO MUCH POTENTIAL!” “GARY OLDMAN LOOKED LIKE A PERVERTED BUSINESSMAN WHO GOT BORED HALFWAY THROUGH PUTTING ON A MARILYN MANSON COSTUME AND THAT WAS ON THE POSTER–YOU SHOULD HAVE KNOWN WHAT YOU WERE GETTING YOURSELF INTO!”

this is a little reference to jv’s diary kept during the 1997 roadkill!! tour, in which they see the fifth element and he’s simply underwhelmed. i love the idea of nny getting his hopes up so high for movies and then going completely insane when they’re just whatever. for the record i love the fifth element.

As the car lurches from the inertia of the stop, the twine around the roof of the car groans, and then snaps completely, and with a loud thump the body slides out of the tarp and onto the hood, and its pallid bare ass is pressed up against the windshield. Devi reaches for the gear shift, taps the wipers on the way, and now the ass is doing a weird sexy dance for the two of them as the blades push it back and forth. They’re still screaming. Devi finally shifts it into reverse and turns over the seat to back up–Nny can’t look away from the ass. She floors it. The body goes flying, all rubbery and floppy and veiny and sexy, and the car keeps backing up until it eventually collides with the ceramic squirrel riding a tractor.

i had the idea of nny and devi having to dump the body really early on in writing. LOVE the trope of ppl needing to get rid of a body in a funny way. i didn’t have a plan, i just liked the insurance policy thing, like of nny being really concerned about obeying traffic laws and not wanting to get any demerits (idk i don’t drive) and devi being like “what the fuck you’re literally a mass murderer” and i REALLY wanted all this to feel stupid and not like. idk a bummer in any way. i definitely took a lot of inspo from the scene in search party season 2 (SPOILERS), where they go to the store to find a suitcase for a body and a guy convinces them to buy a really gaudy zebra print one. just weird absurdity stupidity etc.

thank u for the ask sorry this took SO LONG ily PLATONIC!!!!!

[kisames-corner]

Kisaween Mini Event 🦇🍂

Mods heard howls that people were hoping for Kisame Halloween to make a return for 2022 and we’re here to let you know your scares have been answered.

During the last weekend of October, Kisame's Corner discord servers are once again dying to host a Halloween Mini Event and would like to invite our followers to join in! Participation is optional with no-sign ups required. This is a pressure free event to lift our Halloween spirits 👻

🕸 Event Info & Ghouls…I mean Rules… 🕸

All works must be Kisame focused.

All pairings are welcome.

Works do not have to include a pairing and can remain platonic.

We understand the prompts are pretty eerie-sistible so you can create for as many of the prompts as you like, combining is also fine!

All types of works are accepted e.g. fics, art, mood boards, playlists, gifsets, hcs etc

No word limit. Write as little or as much as you'd like!

Works can be modern au or narutoverse.

You can merge with other events so long as it is within the other events rules that you may do so.

AIl NSFW/Dark content is accepted (excluding underage content) but must be tagged clearly and have warnings included. Anything with triggering/sensitive content must be behind a cut. Please be scareful, if things are not tagged correctly and clearly we will not reblog your submission.

There is an Ao3 collection you are welcome to use.

We will not be accepting early submissions however late submissions will be accepted up until the 7th of November.

If you have read the above info/rules and find we haven't answered a question of yours then please send us mods a message or ask and we will let you know!

Please keep in mind that we do not tolerate the bashing of ships or characters. We are aware that not every ship is everyone's cup of tea, however this event it for ALL Kisame pairings so we ask that everyone is respectful of others and their preferences. No one want's to be a…jerk-o-lantern 🎃

The prompts and rules for this event were put to a vote and decided upon by those within the Kisame Corner discord servers. If you would like to have a say in future events then consider joining!

Mods hope the Halloween puns didn't drive you batty 🦇 but Kisaween 2022 is going to be a scream - we can feel it in our bones! ☠️

Text Version of Prompts Below!

Day One - 29th October Costumes | The smell of blood | What’re you so afraid of? Day Two - 30th October Candy | Monster love | Spooky woods Day Three - 31st October Trick or treat | Pumpkins | Maybe the real monsters were the friends we made along the way

[armoredisopod]

Maybe the real ideal city were the friends we made along the way

An absolutely amazing event, great music, great event mechanic and great story all around, i got Pozëmka from a free roll and a dupe of her later when i finally rolled on the last day of the banner, didn't manage to get Gavialter but that's fine, i only got pot 3 Cantabile though that's kind of a bummer

The enemies having 100% physical dodge is actually brutal but thankfully easily countered by silencing them or running them over or just plainly using arts damage, also it's really funny that they just let you spawncamp the boss in all three of the stages it's in

Out of all the stages in this event honestly IC-S-2 gave me the most trouble even on normal mode because of how the stage is designed to stop you from steamrolling it with the carts, had to actually think about the ops im using instead of planning how to effectively run people over

[tomorrowyoullbeworldsaway]

Certain car seat headrest songs make me think of my ex girlfriend. Like I could move on from her entirely and never think of her and they still would remind me because they’re practically about her they fit so well. I have moved on fully. It’s funny how they make me think of her because I don’t think she’s ever heard car seat headrest and I don’t think she’d like them. It’s an odd similarity she has to my boyfriend. They both care so much about the talent and the technical skill a singer has. She once said she can’t stand when people sing along to songs off key. He once pointed out that I’m often off key. Idk what it is I don’t thinks it’s an intentional pattern. They’ve got a few more things in common then I really consider but it feels like they couldn’t be more different. They’re both gayer than they used to be because of me I guess I’m proud of that. I love when a singer can’t sing I love screaming and voice cracks and borderline spoken word. I think my favorite vocalist in the world might be Kurt Cobain. I’m trying not to think about him too much because it’s winter and I can’t have another Ian Curtis situation but his birthdays coming up. My birthdays coming up too. So hers. I don’t think I was a very good boyfriend to her I don’t think we were a very real relationship I don’t think I’m ready to be any older than I am but I guess at my age everything is all about getting ready to be old. A year ago I couldn’t drive I couldn’t kiss I couldn’t fuck id never even cut myself. Not really. A year from now I’ll be absurdly old I’ll know where I’m going in life it’s only a year I’ll bet I’ll still be the same. I think I’m still the same. Can we ever really stay the same? A year ago I had a birthday party and she didn’t come. Three and a half years ago my online ex boyfriend instagrammed dmed me the angriest anyone’s ever been with me. It was all about him though it said nothing about me. I don’t think he was really all that angry with me I think he was just going through something hard and hurting me was all he had to do. I don’t really think he wa a angrier than anyone’s been at me I just think he had more hate for me than anyone’s ever had. Maybe he was crueler to me than anyone’s ever been. Maybe I was the one who was angry. I don’t cut myself anymore. I have a boyfriend now. I had a girlfriend when I started but I didn’t need to worry about that she never looked at me that way. She cut herself too but that wasn’t relevant. I don’t think we had the same reasons I don’t think anyone in the world would guess that I cut myself, not anyone who knows me at least. I can’t tell how I feel about the way people think of me. My art teacher asked if she should be worried about me and I was elated. She shouldn’t though. I thought she was joking at first because over grown very used to being fine. My friend says I’m the most mentally stable person she knows. My painting wasn’t really good enough to warrant that but I suppose it was grotesque enough. It’s the most genuine reaction anyone’s ever had to something I made. It might’ve been more validating than any compliment I’ve ever gotten. The painting is fine. It’s not my best work.

[pleasantspark]

Same can apply to you idiots. Maybe you people should keep your shitty oppressive 'opinions' to yourselves and not send death threats or dox people just because you disagree with them over lines and words. Food for thought since you think you're so smart. Just wait til you're in your 30's and 40's lmao

I'm not an anti nor do I doxx and send death threats, as a former proshipper we WERE the ones doing it, and the so called Antis were made up to fling responsibility.

Now I don't have issues with Proshipping as everyone has their prefs but as long as its used for traumatic purposes and kept to themselves or just STATED outright its for trauma related reasons. Then its fine.

But those who do it for fun...

No need to say.

The way people say "Oh this is a crime!" like to search for proof to claim all of reasonable peoples claims on Loli/Shota photographed art and writing. There was no clear indicator on if its a crime. (EDIT: It can be a crime if its caught with CP alongside it. But in general its not a crime, just a moral standpoint btw.)

They might be referring to Discords Rules. As long as its not illegal (And you point me into the right law that says it, cause google isn't being clear.) then Proshippers aren't doing anything illegal.

At this point its a he said she said kind of deal which is the main reason why I fell of from poaching and outting Proshippers in the transformers community because its petty ass drama over fictional ass ships no one gives a flying fuck about.

I think I just gave a fuck because my friends forced me to go along with it and I am a people pleaser.

But my honest opinion is?

As long as you aren't hurting real kids or your fucking family members then go off ig.

I'm honestly not interested in further talkiing about this topic because I like to keep personal things private for the sake of my mental health.

But yeah, calling me an idiot and accusing mw of supporting doxxing and death threats is menial as I can report Proshippers aren't any better as they do the same. Which isn't going to hold well on both ends.

Antis and Proshippers are as effective against each other as hot sauce on bread. Of the two learned to ignore each other then we wouldn't get call outs after call outs of people saying "Oh but so and so supports pedophilla and incest" like bro stfu they are clearly not going to listen to gospel. Just fucking block them and once they ACTUALLY hurt kids THEN call them out.

Yeah, unfollow me all you want but I'm HONESTLY sick of people reusing the same shit and saying its immoral when it CLEARLY is but not everyone is gonna remember them in weeks time unless they're big like Dream or some shit.

In this day and age, proshipping was POSTIVE and now people are against it the same way they cancel people over saying slurs. The people who are canceling and harassing proshippers WERE one in the past. Simularly to people who said slurs and are now trying to call out Jenna Marbles for it.

Yeah, my opinions will get me flamed by my mutuals. But I'm not on either side from a logical standpoint. This drama is menial and a waste of fucking time for everyone, I have a solution: Stay in your own corner of the internet.

If you're so bothered by one another, block and don't rile up a fucking mob. Jfc.

Thank you for coming to my rant.

[nerdiests]

so i had the bright idea to write a fine arts au for my hero academia, and i had the even brighter idea to post it up on here, so.

here’s the link to the first chapter

Izuku had spent days gazing into the windows of the quaint music store along his route to school. He was nearly late on multiple occasions because he was entranced by the plethora of instruments visible through the glass. Oh, if he could buy one for his own he would. They were all so much better than the old guitar Izuku had at home. But for now, he was stuck. And here he was, staring at all the fancy schmancy guitars hanging juuust out of his reach. If only he had a way to pay for any guitar he’d want to buy. He could, theoretically, start doing odd jobs but that’d take away from practice and schoolwork-

“Hey, watch where you’re standing, kid!” Izuku snapped out of his thoughts when someone bumped into him, shoving him closer to the glass window he’d gazed into for who knows how long.

“Sorry!” he called as the other person continued walking. Izuku adjusted his backpack on his shoulders, before chancing a glance at his watch. Oh shoot, he was going to be late if he didn’t hurry!! He scrambled for his earbuds in his pocket, put one in his ear, and picked a playlist at random. He didn’t know what music he needed today. So the intro to one of his favorite musicals put a spring in his step as he continued the trek to school. Well, the train station but that was to get to school.

The train was full of people, as it was always. Izuku kept his music on as people bustled about, getting on and off at various stops. As he was engrossed in his music, he nearly missed the stop he’d been getting off at for two years. Only someone bumping into him yet again knocked him out of his music-induced trance right as the train slowed to a stop.

It wasn’t a long walk to his junior high from the train stop, and although he’d left his house with plenty of time to spare, he was nearly late yet again. He hoped to quietly duck into the classroom, with no one commenting on his arrival. No one did, as usual. The whole class was lazing about the room, and Izuku slunk back to his desk in the back row, sitting down quietly and pulling out his homework from the day prior.

“Bakugou-kun, aren’t you playing at an event later this week?” Izuku slid down in his chair as some of his classmates struck up a conversation with his childhood “friend”, Katsuki Bakugou. Drummer extraordinaire, musical genius, and shooting for the premier fine arts school with the best music program in Japan.

“Oh, I’m really hoping I can go, but my parents probably won’t let me do anything on Friday evening. It’s only a half-day on Saturdays anyways.” Another person spoke up, and the conversation continued, only pausing at a shrug from Bakugou and finally ceasing when their teacher called for the attention of the class.

The day would have gone smoothly, if high school applications hadn’t been brought up. Izuku didn’t want the whole class knowing he was planning on auditioning for the music program at U.A, same as Bakugou was. Did their teacher really have to announce that Izuku was shooting for the music program? He could’ve just said that Izuku was shooting for U.A as well, and people would have laughed. But at least he wouldn’t have been on the receiving end of a Bakugou Glare (patent pending) for the rest of the day. It was not fun. Izuku barely managed to avoid getting caught by him repeatedly, and that was only by running late to three of his classes and going and finding a secluded corner of the school to eat his lunch in. At least he could go home straight after school. And practice on his old - reliable, but old - guitar tucked safely in his closet.

The train ride back home was per normal, he was bumped into at least twice, and an earbud nearly fell out. But he made it to his stop without getting too lost in his music, and began his trek home from the train station with some older video game music. Izuku came to a standstill in front of the music store, per normal, and stared at the fancier (fancier than his, at any rate) acoustic guitars and extremely expensive (for him) electric guitars  hanging on the racks through the window. Ah, he could never get his fill of admiring the superior quality. He just. Really wanted a better guitar. His was going out of tune so frequently, and two of the strings were really finicky. He needed to replace those soon, actually.

“Pardon me.” Someone speaking knocked Izuku out of his internal musings, and he quietly stepped to the side.

“Thank you, young man,” the person continued, walking into the store. Oh. Izuku had been standing in front of the door. Oops.

“Not a problem,” he muttered, continuing to stare at guitars. That voice sounded vaguely familiar… But Izuku couldn’t place it. Oh well. Eventually he was jostled again, and remembered that ah yes, I have to go home because staring at guitars is not a productive thing to do. So off he went, noting the change from older video game music to newer video game music as he walked.

He fumbled with the keys to his and his mother’s apartment, as per normal, but he didn’t drop them this time. The smell of chocolate wafted throughout the apartment, and Izuku grinned. His mom made the best chocolate chip cookies.

“Mom, I’m home!” he called, slipping his shoes off and locking the door. As he made his way towards his room, his mother walked out of the kitchen.

“Oh, Izuku! I made cookies, if you want to have one later. How was school?” Izuku stopped for a slight moment, before turning to face his mom with a small smile.

“It was okay, we talked about high school enrollment,” he replied. His mother’s eyebrows rose in slight surprise.

“Really? And you know exactly where you want to go,” his mom replied, smiling. Izuku nodded once, a bit too sharply because ow, his neck.

“Yeah. I’ve been practicing a lot more and I’m really hoping I can get into U.A’s music program. But it’s the premier fine arts school in Japan so competition to get in is tough,” Izuku sighed. His mom nodded.

“You have been sounding a lot better recently, and even my tone-deaf ears can tell me that you’re a wonderful guitarist, Izuku.” Izuku grinned as his mother talked, chuckling slightly.

“Mom, I’m not that good. You should hear Kacchan on drums, that’s what good music sounds like,” Izuku replied, waving one of his hands. His mother put a hand on her chin, as if considering it for a moment.

“Well, I haven’t heard him on the drums. I only hear what you play and the music you always have playing,” she paused momentarily, taking her hand off her chin, “Now. What do you want for dinner?” Izuku shrugged once.

“Whatever you want to make, mom. I’m gonna go do homework and practice,” he said, making his way towards his room. HIs mother called back that she’d be making chicken as he closed his door and sat down at his desk to work on his math homework. That geometry was calling his name, and he told himself he’d always get homework done before practice.

Dinner was wonderful, as always. The two discussed their days over dinner, and Izuku informed his mother he had wrapped up all his homework right as she had called for him to come get dinner. She’d laughed after that, saying that must be why you’re so antsy, Izuku, you want to go play your guitar! Izuku was dismissed not long after, and he dashed to rinse his plate off so he could go practice already!! His guitar was calling his name, and he needed to get some sort of work done that day.

“What should I look at today…” Izuku muttered to himself as he flicked through the copious amounts of sheet music he’d managed to find. It took a few minutes to make his decision, and eventually he plucked out one of his more difficult pieces. As he began to play, he hummed the tune of the lyrics.

He spent a long while nitpicking on different pieces, making sure every little detail was absolutely perfect. He couldn’t get into U.A’s music program with skills like this! So getting everything to be perfect would be essential - oh, there’s another out of tune note, better fix that. Mistakes were not allowed, no sir. He needed to have these songs down pat so he wouldn’t stumble over anything during his audition. That would just be embarrassing.

“Time for bed, Izuku.” He was startled by a knock at his door, strumming a discordant chord as his mother opened the door. He cringed at the sound.

“What time is it?” he asked, setting his guitar down on his bed, before glancing at his clock. Oh geez, it was getting close to 10. He needed to get to sleep, it wasn’t even close to Saturday. Yet here he was, awake.

“Oh geez, I better get to sleep,” Izuku said, and his mother smiled at him.

“Get some rest, you can practice a bit more in the morning if you remember to set an alarm to get ready,” she said, and Izuku nodded hurriedly, putting his guitar back in his closet and tucking his sheet music into its folder on his desk.

Izuku quickly rushed through getting ready for bed, and was wrapped up in his favorite blanket not even ten minutes later, with quiet acoustic guitar playing in his room. His eyes started to drift shut as he thought about the day. It could’ve been better… And, as always, the music store tempted him. Say, hadn’t someone that looked vaguely familiar bumped into him today? Blond hair, tall and lanky… And the voice sounded even more familiar, like something Izuku had listened to time and time again.

As another song faded out and his eyes drifted shut, the quiet chords to a song he knew well came on. Right as he was about to fall asleep, the voice he’d heard at the music store came out of his speakers and Izuku shot up in bed.

“Oh my god I ran into Toshinori Yagi today.”

[hannahhasnofriends]

happier | dream

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

summary: based off the song happier by olivia rodrigo!

pairing: dream x reader

warnings: angst, break ups, this is just fucking sad lmao, real names are used (srry not srry)

word count: 1.2k

a/n: i love olivia rodrigos new album i literally have not listened to anything else since it came out omfg😎 also i think i like this fic?? idk gimme some thoughts n feedback :)

We broke up a month ago Your friends are mine, you know I know You've moved on, found someone new One more girl who brings out the better in you And I thought my heart was detached From all the sunlight of our past But she's so sweet, she's so pretty Does she mean you forgot about me?

"Hey guys! I've missed you all so much." I hug Sapnap tightly and move on to the next person I was greeting.

A "reunion" we were calling it, it'd been a year since the SMP ended and everyone wanted to get into touch again. It was bittersweet seeing everyone , it seemed like we'd grown up so much since then. Hell, I know I have.

"Hey darling, " I turn and see Niki, I missed her so much. We were the first female streamers on the SMP, she'd been my best friend. "How are you?"

"I'm good, really." I could see the sympathy in her eyes. I pretended not to notice when everyone did a double take when I walked into the room, they really thought I wasn't going to come today.

"That's good, I've missed you." She had a tight smile on her face. "You know he's coming today, right?"

I swallowed the lump in my throat, I knew someone was going to ask. It was fine, I had prepared myself for the questions and stares. It'd been 6 months, half a year, 6 damn full moons since we'd ended. We share the same friends, it was hard knowing they were going to pick sides, we both knew it wasn't going to be mine.

"Clay? Yeah, I know. Don't worry, we've both moved on. We're adults and I don't need to hide from him. We're friends!" I was lying through my fucking teeth. I saw his instagram posts, the subtweets, and everything else that had her named burned into it.

"Ok, I just wanted to check in. I know we all took the erm- break-up pretty hard." Her eyes avoided mine but I know she truly meant well by everything she was saying. "Anyway, I'm going to say hi to a few others. I really want us to talk more, ok?"

She squeezed my arm as she was walking off, I nodded my head even though I probably wouldn't be able to bring myself to message her after this.

I took a deep breath and eyed my other company. I was sticking out like a sore thumb, everyone was laughing and enjoying themselves. Honestly, it'd probably be best to make a cowardly dash before he showed up.

Just as I'd made up my mind, I saw it. The main doors opened and there they were. Well. Too damn late for that.

He was as tall and gorgeous as he was 6 months ago and she was stunningly perched on his arm. The worst part wasn't how goddamn good they looked, it was how you could just tell they were right. You could simply glance in their direction and tell she was nice and kind and he was completely devoted to her.

Oh, I hope you're happy But not like how you were with me I'm selfish, I know, I can't let you go So find someone great, but don't find no one better I hope you're happy, but don't be happier

Just like that, all the air in the room had been sucked out. I was doomed.

As he made his way around the room, his eyes finally found mine. His smile faltered and I could tell he was taken aback. I averted my eyes quickly, this was so stupid.

“Y/n! Hi!” I jumped as I heard his voice, sneaky little bastard. I forced my best smile on my face as I turned to face them. She was standing next to him, still arm in arm but she stayed silent.

“Hey! How’s it going.” I pressed my lips together, he seemed so… ok? His eyes no longer had those dark circles and the cuts on his knuckles look healed.

“I’m good! How about you?” He tilts his head, curious.

“I’m doing good, too. Pretty busy, but you know.” I nodded along to what I said, it wasn’t a complete lie.

Abruptly, she clears her throat and side eyes Clay, obviously wanting something. “Oh, right! This is Grace.”

“Hi, I’ve heard great things about you.” She smiles so warmly, she seems so great. I could feel the jealously sinking into my skin, it was suffocating.

“Hello, it’s really nice to meet you.” This time I really was lying. But I couldn’t tell her the truth. How I couldn’t let her boyfriend go.

And do you tell her she's the most beautiful girl you've ever seen? An eternal love bullshit you know you'll never mean Remember when I believed You meant it when you said it first to me? And now I'm pickin' her apart Like cuttin' her down will make you miss my wretched heart But she's beautiful, she looks kind She probably gives you butterflies

She kept up the small talk with me. I learned she was an artist and slightly older than him. She taught art to kids on the weekends and her parents were still married. She even volunteered to help me move.

I noticed the rings she wore and thought about whether he gave them to her. If he gave her the same gifts he gave me. Maybe she knew too. Maybe she knew he took her to the same places we went. Did the same things, laughed at the same jokes. I hope she did.

But the conversation continued, and I kept searching for a flaw. Something to make him realize she wasn’t meant for him. Something I could point out and have my aha moment.

But she was perfect. And I had nothing that would make him pick me instead of her.

I wish you all the best, really Say you love her, baby Just not like you loved me And think of me fondly when your hands are on her I hope you're happy, but don't be happier

The music picked up again and they excused themselves to the dance floor. It was a sappy, corny love song. It fit them perfectly. I could see him whisper in her ear and rock her back forth to the beat. I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes.

As they swayed, I was hoping he was thinking of me. I hoped he would drop her right then and there and grab my hand and lead me out of this mess. I hoped he would lock eyes with me and pretend none of this happened. I hoped they weren't as happy as they looked.

I hope you're happy Just not like how you were with me I'm selfish, I know, can't let you go So find someone great, but don't find no one better I hope you're happy, but don't be happier

As I watched them, I swear every memory we shared came fleeting into my mind. Every smile, every laugh, every fight, everything. The way he’d let me wear his sunglasses in the car and the time we danced in the rain and we’re sick for days after.

As I watched them I wondered wether they were truly happy together. If he was in love, if he loved her more than he loved me. If he ever thought of me when he was with her.

I wonder if he watched me as I left.

[qyllenhaal]

Muse

Pairing: Artist!Steve x Reader

Summary: Steve’s an artist, and you’re secretly his muse. 3rd POV. WC: 3.5k

Warnings: smut (18+ only, MDNI), oral (f receiving), unprotected sex. Fluff. Friends to lover.

Steve knew it was a risk to quit his job and focus full-time on being an artist. His boss laughed in his face when he turned in his letter of resignation and asked Steve how much he thought his "little paintings" were going to make him. Steve didn't just face this scrutiny from his boss, but his friends too albeit not as harsh. Many of the people in his life didn't understand his passion for something that might leave him struggling, but Y/n was always there encouraging him.

"You may struggle for a little bit, but I think it's great Steve! Only one day into your new life as an artist and you already seem happier!"

Steve has known Y/n for almost a decade. They met under odd circumstances that some would consider a meet cute. She's still so sweet and bubbly just like she was the day he met her. It wasn't hard for him to fall head-over-heels for her. She always has a kind word and an open ear even during times of distress.

Sometimes he blushes when she gives him a compliment. She claims to not know anything about art, but every time he shows her something new she always has something stark to say that sticks with him. Maybe it's because it's coming from her.

His time spent alone in his studio is sacred. He converted a room in his apartment into a makeshift studio and he finds so much solace in those four walls. He has wanted to dabble in painting live subjects, maybe even a nude model or too, but he found himself getting real shy about it. He'd love to have someone to pose and to capture the way the light perfectly hits their face. That someone he imagined was often Y/n.

He was shocked when she allowed him to make her his subject. It started with him asking to paint a few photos of her she had lying around for "practice." Y/n was more than happy to help her friend Steve, only under the condition that he show her the final product. Steve found no problem in showing off the pastoral setting paintings he created, but it was much more harder to show off paintings of the person he thinks is the most beautiful person in the world.

Just like he couldn't muster up the confidence to ask anyone else to be his model, Steve could never ask Y/n to model for him in person. He found himself becoming too shy whenever the question was on the tip of his tongue. It would be much better if he were here in person with him, but he opted for photos of her clipped to his easel for reference. He'd finish a painting in one day and send her a photo via text of the finished product.

“I really look like that? It's amazing Steve!”

But eventually he ran out of photos. He tried to reuse some old ways and paint in a different style, or play with the colors, but it was beginning to become stale. Steve needed something new, but he didn't want to let go of Y/n as his subject.

"So you need new pictures?"

"Yeah — it's fine if you don't have any more," he tries to play it off as if he doesn't have 10 canvases in his studio of paintings of her that he hasn't shown her.

"We could take some more. Do you still have that digital camera you got a few Christmas' ago?"

"No. I think it got lost when I moved."

"Oh. Well I think Sam has a camera we can borrow. It's one of those fancy ones, right?"

Steve agreed to ask Sam to borrow his camera, but he honestly wishes that he had just bought his own. The amount of teasing he had to endure when he explained to Sam exactly why he needed the camera made his skin heat up. He couldn't stop his cheeks from becoming rosy when Sam asked when is he finally going to tell Y/n how he feels about her. Steve doesn't want to ruin what they have just in case Y/n rejects him. He'd much rather wallow in his school boy crush than put a strain on their friendship.

"How do you want me to pose?"

Y/n sat on the lone couch in Steve's studio room. It wasn't the best quality but it was still useful.

The curtains were drawn to shield the sun that was nearly set. The lighting in the room was dim save for the soft light coming from a small lamp pointed at her. It casted a warm, yellowish light onto her skin. She wore a white dress and kicked her shoes off at the front door.

"Whatever comes natural to you," his voice is weak as he responds. The atmosphere of the room is slightly romantic and he can't shake his nerves. Everything feels extremely intimate.

Y/n is almost as nervous as Steve. She's never modeled for someone and it feels a little bit awkward. She's always comfortable around Steve, but she can't help but get a little nervous when she sees Steve with the camera in his hands.

"You look perfect like that," he compliments the half-asses pose she's doing before snapping the first photo. He looks at the preview before the camera's screen could go dark.

"Let me see." He shows her and she just nods her head, "let me adjust myself," she whispers.

Y/n unbuttons the first two buttons of her dress, exposing more of her chest that only gives a glimpse of her breast. Steve pretended to not notice it as he took another picture of her. Once again Y/n asked to see the photo and looked a little more satisfied with it this time.

"Do you think that I could — nevermind."

"What is it Y/n?" He asks with a soft laugh that makes her want to melt.

"Do you think I could unbutton my dress all the way?" Her voice faltered as she asked. She watched Steve's reaction intently. She hopes the question doesn't make him uncomfortable. "It's just that I was looking up some ideas online so I could prepare and I saw this really pretty picture of this model and she was semi-nude but it was really pretty so I wanted to ask if we could try it," she explained; or perhaps over-explained.

Steve was completely dumbfounded. If Y/n couldn't see it in his dropped jaw, then she can see it in the way he just freezes.

"It's okay if that's too much."

"No! No, it's okay."

Y/n gave him a half smile before she began to unbutton the front of her dress. Steve tried to look away, but how could he not? The more she revealed herself, the easier it was for him to see the swell of her breast. Her skin looks so soft and he feels compelled to reach out and caress her bare skin. But he keeps his hands to himself.

"Is this too much?" The puffy sleeves of her dress were off of her shoulder and her dress was all the way open until the middle of her stomach. It's a lot for him to handle, but he feels blessed to see such a sight.

"No. It's perfect. You're perfect."

Y/n's skin heats up despite the room being cold. She was starting to get a weird feeling in the pit of her stomach. It wasn't a bad one or an uncomfortable feeling, but it was something she wasn't used to.

Now she's half-naked and posing on his couch. The first few photos he took of her like this were awkward as they both had to adjust to Y/n being half-naked.

Steve couldn't ignore the way the cold air made her nipples hard and breast tender. Steve was supposed to be on his best behavior, but he is seconds away from making a stupid mistake with his best friend.

Y/n arches her back which makes her breast jut out at him. Steve pauses to pray that he doesn't get a hard on. He feels a bit like a scumbag for even having this dilemma. It's just his best friend's half-naked body — that looks so soft and tender.

He forced himself to steel his resolve and hurry up and finish the task at hand. He began to treat her more like a model instead of the best friend he has a crush on.

"Try this," he suggests to her to move her body in a different way, which she does, but it's not quite what he wants. He was hesitant to get his hands on her, but he went for it anyway, "a little more like this."

In the process of moving her body, his hand brushed against her nipple. Y/n involuntarily let out a moan which made both of them pause. They looked at each other before Y/n let out a nervous laugh to try to play it off.

"Sorry," Steve apologizes.

"It's okay."

He glosses over what just happened and goes back to moving her body to her liking. He can't get over how good she feels underneath him. The truth is that he was taking his time to be able to have this experience for much longer. He may never have this kind of closeness with her again and he just can't quite let go.

Y/n watches his face as his hands touch her body. He looks so handsome under this lighting and Y/n wonders if she's always felt this way about Steve. For some reason she feels lust swirling inside of her. She hopes she isn't making a mistake when she leans forward and kisses him. Steve freezes under her kiss, stunned by reality, but he lets it happen. Her lips feel so soft against his, just like he always imagined.

She pulls away and places her forehead against his. Steve still has his eyes closed, lost in the dream that is Y/n's closeness.

"You can open your eyes now," she teases him. He obeys her and laughs along with her.

"I've wanted this for so long," he admits.

The revelation is shocking to her. She had no idea he felt this way about her, but now she wonders how much she's been oblivious to.

"Do you want this, Y/n? The last thing I want is for you to feel uncomfortable."

"No, no — I want this Steve. I wanna feel you touching me," her voice became somewhat whiny as desire fueled her.

With her blessing, Steve did not hold back. He kissed her hard, the way he imagined he would always kiss her. Imagine the way his heart nearly stopped when Y/n kissed him back with the same amount of fervor and want. Her hand came up and rested against the stubble on his cheek. They wish they could say their kiss was delicate, but it was not; it was sloppy and their tongues danced with each other.

When Steve pulls away, he's out of breath, but he's happy. The light touches he gave to her body earlier were not a bit rougher. He wants to explore every inch of her body in seconds, but he wants to be patient; he has all night to discover every inch of her.

"Touch me right here, Steve."

Y/n places his hands on her breast with his thumbs in reach of her nipples. Steve's thumb runs across her taut nipples which makes her sigh. "You like that?" He asks with a bit more confidence. She nods her head and her approval emboldens him. “Good.”

His lips ghost across the skin on her neck before he places a wet kiss against the skin on her throat. He can feel her breath hitch every time he places a tender kiss on her flesh. She smells like lavender and it makes him feel dizzy. He keeps playing with her nipples as he begins to suck on her neck. Y/n wants to just lay there and take in the feeling of him spoiling her, but she also wants to hear him moan. She strokes the bulge in his pants with her knee and she feels him groan against her skin. He lightly grinds himself against her knee to relieve all of the tension that built up inside of him. Neither of them are sure who wants who more, but it doesn’t matter to either of them. Knowing that this is an equal exchange of love and lust is enough for the two of them.

“Oh god Steve,” Y/n coos when he sucks on the most sensitive part of her neck. They’ve only just begun, but he makes her feel so good. A part of her is wishing that she had discovered Steve’s crush on her a long time ago, but she has him now and that’s all that matters.

“I wanna make you feel good,” he says against her skin, “I wanna make you cum.”

Y/n can’t help but moan at his confession. She can already imagine how it would feel to have him between her legs.

“Please Steve!”

Steve sits up just to push her dress up. The cotton panties she wears has a pink bow sewn onto it and he finds it adorable. He glances back up at her and he notices that she’s looking away from him. She’s now feeling bashful knowing that he’s going to see her completely naked even though she wants all of this and more. “It’s okay, pretty girl,” Steve pacifies her by slowly stroking her outer thigh. She finally looks at him, her pupils wide with lust. She almost sighs in content when he starts to slide her panties down. The cool air of the rooms only heats her up once it hits her hot sex.

“My god,” Steve whispers to himself. She looks so pretty, but she’s absolutely messy between her legs. She places her foot on the back of his couch to spread herself wider for him. “Good girl.”

Steve lowers himself between her legs and just stares at her for a moment. He wants to remember this for the rest of his life just in case this is the last time something like this happens between the two of them. He would be crushed if Y/n asked to just continue on as friend’s after this, but he would be eternally grateful that she granted him this opportunity. All he wants to do is make her feel good; his pleasure will follow suit, but it’s all about her.

One of his fingers runs along the edge of her folds. Y/n whimpers at the delicate way he treats her body. She feels so lucky to have someone so kind and sweet like Steve. He touches her with care, and love is in every stroke. “You’re so perfect,” he says before kissing her inner thigh. Every part of her body is sensitive but somehow she is able to withstand it all.

The first lick to her pussy overblows both of their senses. She’s sweet like honey and juicy like a peach. Steve’s first instinct is to groan against her pussy which sends vibration throughout her entire body. She feels like she’s on fire as all of the blood in her body goes straight to her sensitive nub. His tongue focuses on her clit and she’s in heaven. Steve’s tongue moves with so much skill and precision, but most importantly, passion. Steve treats her like he truly wants her, and Y/n can’t help but fall for him at this moment.

“You taste so good,” he coos against her slick.

The way he paws at her body while licking her pussy makes her feel like she’s being worshiped. Tears well in her eyes the harder he sucks at her clit. She hopes his neighbors’ aren’t home because they’d probably be annoyed at the loud sounds of her cries of pleasure. He has her on the edge and it just takes him rolling her nipples with his fingers that finally push her over.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop!”

Her cries are so angelic to him. And as much as he wants to keep licking her out, Steve needs to be inside of her so bad. He tames himself and pulls his mouth away from her to pull himself out of his pants. His incredibly hard, the head of his cock an angry red as it leaks pre-cum. “This is what you do to me,” his words are haunting. Y/n whines and wiggles her hips from being so impatient.

Steve lowers himself and presses the head of her cock at her opening. She’s so slippery that he pushes into her with ease. His cock is so big that she inhales sharply as she takes all of him inside of her. Her walls are like silk around him.

“So tight baby — oh god.”

Steve feels like he’s going to explode already. Her pussy is squeezing him and she looks up at him with wide eyes as she takes his cock like a good girl. It is the hardest task he’s ever faced in his life to not cum already. She just feels so good.

“Are you okay?” He asks sweetly before dipping his head to kiss her forehead.

She nods her head, “yes, Steve…feels so good,” she manages to speak coherently.

Her legs were thrown over his legs which allows him to fuck deeper into her. She looks so beautiful underneath him. Steve wants to feel her cum on his cock so bad. She flutters around him when he pulls out of her only to push back in seconds later.

Steve can only control himself for so long before he’s pounding into her. The cry of his name on her lips is so saccharine that it gives him a sweet tooth. He sucks on the skin of her neck to satisfy that need while Y/n places her hand on the back of his head as she moans for him.

“I’m gonna cum Steve! You’re going to make me cum!”

The ridges of his cock feels so good inside of her, but what really does it for her is how the head of his cock is kissing her cervix. The stretch of his cock is such a delicious burn that she wants him inside forever. With his face planted in her neck, lips kissing at her skin, Y/n is completely enamored with the way Steve consumes all of her. She is his just as much as he is her.

He feels her sex squeeze him one more time before she’s cumming all around him. She clings to him as her orgasm ravages through her. Steve fucks her through it before reluctantly pulling out of her. Her jerks himself off until he’s cumming all over her pretty tits, painting her body like she’s one of the world’s most precious masterpieces.

The two are completely spent as their limbs dangle off of his couch. Y/n’s heart is full feeling his cum cooling on her chest. She dips a finger in his spent and sucks it off, savoring his taste since she didn’t get a chance to go down on him. Steve almost passes out at the sight.

“You’re crushing my legs Steve,” she laughs warmly. He rolls off of her and off of the couch entirely.

Steve grabs a towel and starts t0 clean up her chest. He remembers what they were supposed to be accomplishing, but after what just happened between the two of them, Steve is certain he won’t be anxious about asking her to be his model again.

“So, where do we go from here?”

The question catches him off guard. He slowly wipes away his cum with the damp towel from her chest. As much as finding the answer to this question is hard, he is happy that she asked it because it means that she’s giving him a chance.

“I don’t want this to be the last time we do this,” Steve admits. He’s quickly become addicted to the way their foreheads pressed together; it just feels so intimate. “I love you too much for this to be the last time we ever spend like this together.”

As much as tonight has been shocking to her after the revelation of Steve proving to her that he loves her, she’s only overwhelmed with positive emotions.

“Then let’s not let this be the last time,” she whispers against his lips.

A wave of relief washes over Steve as he just lays there against, their bare bodies pressed against each other as if this is always how it should’ve been. His only hope is that they can stay like this forever.

[heloisedaphnebrightmore]

Deception [Benedict Bridgerton x Reader]

Title: Deception Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x Female!Reader Word count: 4.5k Published: 21 March 2021 Author: Heloise Daphne Brightmore Summary: Violet's constant search for a wife for her second eldest son has become too much for Benedict. The only escape he sees is to ask you to pretend to be courting each other. But how long will it work for with your feelings eating you up from the inside. Bingo: [x] This is part of my Make me feel Bingo Card by @girl-next-door-writes​​​

Square filled: Fake dating

Bridgerton Masterlist | Masterlists

Make me feel Bingo Masterlist

If you enjoy my stories, please consider donating and supporting me on Ko-fi. Of course, it’s completely your choice, I will continue updating for free anyway :) Thank you <3

Benedict Bridgerton was a very capable man. He had a tremendous amount of talent in capturing the real beauty of the world in his drawings. He was confident, but still genuinely kind and caring for his loved ones. He also had a rather playful side to him, a somewhat child-like behaviour, one that the ton would not have appreciated in their society, but Benedict had the privilege to show his real personality to those who loved him, ones that never judged him for who he was.

However, there was one person he felt utterly useless around. When it came to you, he turned into an adorable mess, a clumsy one at that, even stuttering on occasions. Should you have known the reason for his unusual behaviour, it would have brought a rather large smile to your face, but Benedict dared not to reveal his feelings for you.

For someone who has been friends for so long, you both seemed to have found it hard to show your true feelings for one another, as though both of you were clueless. For Benedict it seemed you only spared as much attention to him as a friend would, whilst you thought he was merely looking out for you as a brother figure.

You sat in the ballroom, watching as he grimaced at his mother, who might have slightly forced her second oldest child to dance with one of the many stunning unwed ladies. The one he was forced to dance with however seemed to enjoy Benedict's company. He didn't talk, nor did he look at the woman, still she shined brighter than a diamond in his arms, proud to be so close to such a fine man.

Heaving a heavy sigh, you watched as he held his hand firmly on her back, leading her around the dance floor, making her giggle by just being close to her. Your heart ached at the thought of ever having to give up on him, at the thought of seeing him with another, someone he would choose to love, ignoring to see your longing gazes forgotten on him. How could he have seen, he never dared to look when he felt your eyes on him, nor did you dared to look when he forgot his on you.

Standing up from your chair, you walked towards the terrace, needing fresh air, trying to clear your thoughts as the slightly cool, windy weather stroked your cheeks. You knew you shouldn't have thought of him romantically, but you would have been a fool not to notice the handsome and caring man he has grown into. Watching Lady Bridgerton trying to find a wife to her son hurt both emotionally and physically and you couldn't wait for the season to end, to leave the balls and play-pretend behind you, running away from the inevitable.

"Help me!" you heard his desperate voice, but before you could have turned around, you felt his hand lock around your wrist, gently, but in a haste, dragging you after himself.

"Benedict, what are you doing?" you asked in confusion, trying to understand his chaotic behaviour as he pulled you along, passing corridors by corridors in the gigantic mansion.

"My mother," he sighed as he stopped his steps, breathing heavily. "My mother is becoming—" you waited for him to continue, but he seemed to have been stuck in his thoughts.

"Are you alright?" you asked, frowning at his frozen state, as though he couldn't find the words and his thoughts overruled his actions. You watched his hunched back as he fought to get enough air in his lungs, his eyes focused on a certain point on the marble flooring, completely out of the present. "Benedict!" you called him again, this time firmly, attempting to catch his attention.

"I know it!" he exclaimed, making you jump slightly at his unexpected enthusiasm as a rather wide smile spread across his face.

"What do you know exactly?" you inquired.

"It might sound foolish at first and I do not blame you if you think I have lost my mind, but I need your help," he explained, leaving you even more curious.

"What would I need to help you with?" you asked furrowing at the man as if he has forgotten to include you in his grand idea.

"My mother has been adamant in finding me a wife and there is only so much I can do to prevent her from continuing her crusade. I know I shouldn't ask you such a thing, but I can't possibly think of anyone else who I trust enough," he continued in a secretive manner.

"Benedict, you must be clearer. I don't understand what you wish for me to do," you attempted to push him to finally reveal his idea.

"I need my mother to stop searching for a wife and the only way I can do that is if I already found someone I am interested in," he started. "That is where I would need your help, if you agreed. Should you agree to pretend I am courting you, my mother would surely stop this nonsense and leave me alone," for a mere second you felt overwhelmed by the hope of his interest in you, but that was only until your brain processed his words. "Pretend" being the main focus of your attention, shattering the small shimmering light of hope within you.

You took a shaky breath, trying to compose yourself, attempting to hide your disappointment. "Surely you didn't think this through. Your mother isn't a fool, she would see through us immediately. You can't possibly think it's a good idea," you tried to reason with him, but instead of thinking it through again, he quickly shook his head.

"But it is. Think about it. You have said so yourself, you don't want to marry just yet and nor do I. It would be the perfect option for both of us, solving our issues," he added enthusiastically as if his idea was anything, but brilliant. He could clearly see the weary expression across your face as he stepped closer and reached for your hands, engulfing them in his large and warm palms. "We would only have to pretend for a short while, I promise," he tried to reassure you. Whilst you knew it was a foolish idea, the thought of being able to stay close to him even if for a short period of time, seemed to cloud your better judgement.

"For how long?" you asked looking up at him as a mischievous grin spread across his dashingly handsome face. One that you adored so much. "I wouldn't want to be a spinster, Benedict," you sighed heavily.

"I would never let that happen," he shook his head quickly, his previously playful smile long gone from his face. "Let us do it for a few weeks and we will see how my mother reacts. I'm sure if we work well together, you might even catch the attention of some very noble men too," he winked jokingly, trying to lift your dull mood.

You haven't had much time to contemplate, maybe a few seconds until you ran through all the options you have been provided with, which was basically none. You heaved a heavy sigh and shook your head, offering a sceptical look to Benedict. "Fine," you said, earning a surprised expression from him, your answer shocking him for a second, before he wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted you up, twirling you around happily.

"You are my saviour," he chuckled as he hinted a small kiss on your forehead, stopping himself as he realised what he had done. "I apologise, I didn't mean to—"

"I understand. You are simply happy I have agreed to such a scandalous idea," you rolled your eyes, but you couldn't hide the happiness you felt. Even if for a short while, Benedict was to belong to you, and it meant more than you could have possibly expressed. You knew you couldn't have him forever but having him for a couple of weeks made you feel like the happiest person alive.

"I owe you! I didn't think you would agree," he grinned happily, a childish warmness radiating from his stance as though he had won a grand prize.

"I still don't understand why I did. Surely, I'm a fool," you added quickly with a silent chuckle.

"We both are," he replied as he started leading you back to the ballroom with your arm linked around his. His gaze focused on the way ahead, but your eyes were rather resting on his attractive features. He was a stunning man, and you were sure if he had turned to look at you, he would have seen the amount of love you were harbouring for him. But as many times before, no one of you has ever turned.

Weeks passed by and if anyone, Violet Bridgerton was the happiest person to see Benedict growing closer to the woman, you, she had envisioned beside her second eldest son. She has made it very clear that a wedding should soon be happening, wanting nothing but a little baby in her arms. You never wanted to crash her dreams but hearing her talking about a future between you and Benedict was beyond painful. The thought of you waking up beside Benedict, his arm resting across your waist, his neck hidden in the crook of your neck, his breath tickling your skin made your heart ache, knowing it was impossible.

You stood in Somerset House, one arm hooked around Benedict's as he watched the paintings, his face focused on one particular art with dark colours and shadings, slightly depressing as if the artist tried to capture a horrible emotion. Art was always something that you found beautiful, but never really understood. When Benedict talked about the meaning behind each piece with a childish happiness across his face, it made you feel content. Although you didn't understand much of what he was saying, the adorable expression he wore was worth each and every moment you spent listening to him.

Looking at his handsome features as they relaxed into a content smile, made you mirror his expression. You couldn't look at him and not smile. As though his mere presence made you feel at ease.

"I feel your eyes on me," he chuckled with a mischievous smile, knowing that you have indeed been staring at him for the longest time.

"I'm sorry," you quickly turned away, feeling your cheeks and ears heat up in embarrassment. "I couldn't stop watching you. You were really focused on that painting and it seemed as though you were here physically, but not mentally. You unintentionally make this face when you enjoy a painting," you smiled shyly.

"A face?" he furrowed, not knowing of his own reaction.

"Yes, as if you were completely captured by the painting. You have a certain content smile across your face and even forget to blink at times," you giggled, placing your hand in front of your mouth, remembering his facial expression.

"Don't hide your smile," he said as he reached for your wrist and gently wrapped his fingers around your arm, pulling your hand away from your lips. "You are even more beautiful when you smile," for a second his words made you hope, as though he meant more than he let on. His eyes seemed as if they could see through you, reading each and every single thought that crossed your mind. For the shortest of time, it felt your feelings weren't as unrequited as you thought. However, you quickly had to remind yourself that your imagination was playing a painful game with you, one that would surely end in a heartbreak.

You quickly turned away, trying to shake those foolish thoughts away, before you decided to dwell on them any longer. Clearing your thoughts, you turned back to him with a phony smile across your face, biting your bottom lip to calm yourself. But his deep frown left you confused. "Are you okay?" you questioned as he tilted his head as if he was studying your face.

"You were biting your lips again," he replied. "You do that when you are nervous or feeling uncomfortable," he added, stunning you. Biting your lips was indeed a nervous habit of yours, one that you couldn't stop as it made you feel slightly at ease when you felt as if even your own thoughts betrayed you. You never thought Benedict even realised those irrelevant, minor details.

"I'm fine, Benedict," you tried to reassure him with a smile that you wore confidently but could not fool Benedict.

"Should you feel the need to talk, I'm here," he said, drawing tiny circles on the back of your arm that he was still securely holding onto, reassuring you that he was by your side whenever you were in need of him.

As happy as it made you, you couldn't shake the feeling of disappointment as you thought about the heartbreak when he would finally want to end your foolish little game and find himself a wife that he could cherish forever, leaving you with the most horrible heartache one could cause.

You knew it was inevitable, you knew it would kill you, but you loved Benedict and you would have never forced him to stay beside you for any longer than he wanted to. You were ready to give him up, to be happy even if with someone else. The thought of letting him go hurt, but you weren't sure of your own strength either. Thinking about how long you could stay beside him pretending to be a mere friend left you with just as much pain, if not more. But you were ready to sacrifice your own happiness even if to be able to spend one more second with him.

Days passed by since your slightly awkward encounter in Somerset House. You have pretended to be a couple so in love that you couldn't possibly stay away from each other. Lady Whistledown didn't miss to write a paragraph or two about the two of you, already planning your wedding, one that you found slightly excessive, but dared not to mention to keep your act believable.

As much as you enjoyed the first few weeks of your play-pretend, it was hard to keep it up for long. You loved every minute you spent with Benedict, but the longer you were beside him, the more pain you felt. You wished to make him happy, to continue your act, but you also knew that it wasn't forever, and that tiny little thought suffocated you.

You sat on a bench in the park, right after promenading with Benedict. He joined his brothers whilst your maid brought you a glass of water to refresh yourself. You watched as Benedict laughed with his brothers, a wide, adorable and carefree smile sat across his face. Weeks ago, you would have smiled at his happiness, but then and there, sitting on the bench, watching his happy form, you felt miserable. Each time you looked at him, your stomach jumped nervously, your breath caught in your lungs as he touched your arm. These tiny little details meant nothing to him, but for you they meant the world. He couldn't have known the effects his advances left on you, he couldn't have predicted to hurt you unintentionally, but in the end, he unknowingly caused you pain.

Standing up from the bench, you started walking towards the Bridgerton brothers. Heaving a heavy sight, you lifted your arm and tapped Benedict's shoulder lightly, trying to catch his attention. He turned around with a wide smile, looking at you curiously. However, your face must have forgotten to oblige as his smile quickly disappeared and concern took over him.

"Are you alright?" he asked as he nodded to his brothers and reached for your hand, placing it on his arm, leading you away from his family.

"I must talk to you," you started, your voice unusually grim.

"Go ahead. You are worrying me," he added impatiently. Trying to collect your thoughts, you stopped, halting the man beside you whose worried eyes didn't seem to want to leave you for a mere second. "Talk to me," he attempted to reassure you.

"I am really sorry, but I can't possibly do this anymore," your words earned a confused frown from Benedict, before he finally understood what you meant. "I know I promised to help you and I wish I could have done it longer, but I honestly can't do this anymore," you added as you fought against your tears, trying to keep them in place for as long as you could. You couldn't let yourself cry in front of so many people, you couldn't let that happen. Benedict straightened himself in front of you, trying to hide your face from the curious eyes.

"I understand. I am sorry for forcing you to do this. I never thought it could be this hard on you. I would never hurt you, you know that, right?" he asked, trying to contain himself from wrapping his arms around you, fidgeting with his hands beside his thighs.

"I know and you didn't hurt me, it's not your fault. It has just become rather difficult recently and I don't think I'm capable of pretending anymore," you tried to reassure him, making him feel less guilty. "I'm still your friend and I will always be your friend," you added with a phoney smile. Your own words were a lie. You didn't know how long you could pretend to be his friend, but you knew he needed to hear that, he needed not to blame himself. "I will be going home now, but surely I will see you later," you smiled up at him as you curtsied and nodded towards your maid, ready to head home, completely oblivious to the pained gaze he was watching your slowly disappearing form with.

Whilst you sat in your carriage, letting your tears finally run down your cheeks, leaning on your maid's shoulder, Benedict stood confused between Colin and Anthony, his eyes fixed on the ground, his thoughts filled with you only.

"Brother?" Colin called for him with concern in his eyes. It was unusual to see his brother unresponsive, without a playful smile. "Are you alright?" he asked, earning a frown from Benedict.

"I shouldn't have dragged her into this," he replied, but his words were directed more to himself than his brothers.

"What do you mean?" Anthony asked, seemingly more interested in their conversation.

"It was all a lie," Benedict replied, his gaze still fixed on the carefully cut grass.

"What was a lie?" the eldest Bridgerton brother asked again.

"All along we were pretending to be courting, so mother would stop trying to force me to marry," he scoffed, finally understanding the weight of his idea. "She said she can't do this anymore. That it was too painful to bear," he shook his head, guilt overcoming him.

"You really are a fool," Anthony replied with a sceptical look across his face, earning a confused look from both Colin and Benedict.

"How do you mean? Is it because we have been pretending?" Benedict questioned his brother. "I know it was foolish, but she agreed, I didn't know it would be particularly hard on her," he added with a deep frown.

"Brother, can you not see the way she looks at you? Always trying to make you feel happy, bringing a smile to your face even when she, herself is struggling to do so? Are you really that blind?" Anthony raised a questioning brow, as though he couldn't believe how oblivious his brother was towards your feelings.

"Should I understand?" he asked tilting his head innocently, searching for the right explanation. "We have been friends from a very young age, I am certain we have always tried to make each other smile in a difficult situation," he added, earning an eye roll from the eldest Bridgerton brother, ignoring his manners.

"When you said you were courting her, I thought you finally realised that you weren't the only one with feelings beyond friendship. However, after hearing about this foolish idea of yours, forcing a lady to pretend to love you, when in fact she has feelings for you is beyond stupid, brother, and I'm quite disappointed in you for not realising it yourself," he shook his head disapprovingly.

"Are you telling me she has feelings for me?" Benedict asked in disbelief, his brother's words lighting a weak hope within him.

"Indeed, took you long enough to understand," he scoffed.

"I have to talk to her," Benedict added quickly, heading towards the carriages in haste, carefully planning all he needed to tell you.

The ride didn't take long, 20 minutes at most, before he stood in front of your house, his hands shaking slightly, nervousness running through his whole being. Knocking on the door, a maid opened it for him, asking him to wait to announce his arrival to you.

You laid on your bed, cheeks swollen from crying, bottom lip red as a result of the constant biting of your nervous state. A knock on your door brought you out of your misery as your maid walked into the room.

"Mr. Bridgerton is here to see you," she said with a saddened tone, knowing of the arrangement between the two of you. Your eyes widened in surprise, you weren't ready to see him, especially not in your current, heartbroken state. "Would you like me to ask him to leave?" she questioned, looking at the panicked expression across your face.

"No, it's fine. Please take him to the drawing room," you instructed her and headed to the bathroom to make yourself presentable. Your eyes were bloodshot, your face was slightly swollen, and your clothes were beyond wrinkled. Attempting to straighten your dress, you stroked the material over and over again, but it didn't seem to work, nor did the cold water you washed your face with to remove the evidence of your miserable state. At last, you gave up and walked to the drawing room, knowing you wouldn't be able to do anything else with your appearance.

"We have just parted, Benedict," you said to the man as you stepped inside the room and took a seat across the sofa he occupied.

"I needed to see you," he replied, standing up from his place and taking a seat beside you. "I—, I talked to my brothers after you left," he started, stammering over his words, something he only did in his nervous state. "I am a fool and there is no excuse for that. I can't possibly imagine how hard it must have been for you to pretend—"

"I have told you already, I am completely fine," you tried to reassure him with a faux smile, one that this time Benedict didn't believe to be genuine.

"But are you?" he asked, earning a confused frown from you. "Do you know why I thought this foolish idea to be brilliant in the first place?" he raised a questioning brow, but instead of replying you shook your head. "I wanted to be closer to you. I merely thought it would be my chance to spend more time with you. Surely, I had no intention to marry anyone, and I wished my mother to stop, but my primary concern was you. I wanted to be near you at all times, but I couldn't possibly tell you how I felt, knowing you would only reject me," you couldn't control the surprise sitting across your face, your lips parted in shock, his words seemingly part of your most precious dreams. It seemed surreal.

"You are confusing me, Benedict," you spoke up, trying not to hope once again to then fall painfully.

"I'm saying I love you. I have loved you for so long, I can't remember when it started. I never imagined my feelings could be returned and I turned to foolish ideas to be beside you. I needed my brothers to open my eyes and scold me for being childish, for making me hope that I might have your heart even if only half as much as you have mine," he reached for you hand, gently squeezing it in his hold, reassuring you that he meant every single word of his.

"I love you," you blurted out, astonished by his speech, your own words surprising you.

"You do?" he asked, afraid to believe the words he has longed to hear from you.

"I do," you nodded, this time with more confidence, earning a wholehearted smile from Benedict as he leaned closer and wrapped his arms around you, embracing you in his arms.

"I made you cry, didn't I?" he asked as he pulled away slightly, enough for him to be able to look in your eyes as he placed his hands on your cheeks.

"It wasn't you. I was emotional, because I wasn't sure how long I would be able to stay beside you as a friend before it became too much to handle," you giggled awkwardly, feeling as if you have said too much.

"It was still my fault. I didn't consider your feelings," he shook his head, disapproving of his own actions. The tip of his thumb gently brushed across your bottom lip, leaving you with a ticklish feeling. "Have you been biting your lips again?" he asked as his eyes focused on your mouth. His attentiveness, his attention to detail and his closeness made you swallow nervously.

"I might have," you whispered, not daring to raise your voice any louder. Feeling his breath on your lips, the proximity between your faces, his warm palms on your cheeks made you feel intoxicated.

"You shouldn't do that. From now on talk to me when something bothers you," he spoke in a low tone, his voice soothing, making you feel safe. "You are doing it again," he chuckled, his eyes completely captured by the way your teeth bit on your lip, but this time it wasn't nervousness, but excitement. His closeness affected every tiny part of your body. "It really makes me want to kiss you," he breathed, completely mesmerised by your lips, as if an invisible force was pulling him towards you. You felt your heart beating at a dangerous pace, almost as if threatening to escape your chest and you could swear Benedict heard it just as well.

"Hmm," you hummed in a reply, incapable of creating a coherent sentence, before closing the gap between the two of you, a certain confidence rush taking over your actions. Instead of the surprised reaction you expected from Benedict, a playful chuckle left his lungs.

"Impatient, it seems," he added, before he returned your kiss, pulling you closer to himself, enjoying the feeling of your body in his embrace. He has imagined over and over again how it could feel to kiss you, to hold you, but none of those made-up scenarios could ever compete against the reality and the content it filled him with. "I wish to genuinely court you this time," he added as he pulled away from you.

"I very much hope so," you giggled happily, earning a playful eye roll from Benedict, before he captured your lips once again, wrapping his arms around you securely.

Notes: If you enjoyed reading this little piece, please don’t forget to leave a like, comment and/or reblog. Your opinion matters and gives us motivation. Thank you ^^

If you enjoy my stories, please consider donating and supporting me on Ko-fi. Of course, it’s completely your choice, I will continue updating for free anyway :) Thank you <3

Taglist: (If you would like to be tagged on my Bridgerton fics, feel free to let me know ^^)

@shelby-love​​ @breadqueen95​​ @nuttytani-reblogs​​ @aspiringsloth20​​ @marvel-ousnesss​​ @msmarvelouswinchester​​ @venusflwer​​

[catboyantichrist]

hello! i saw that you were taking requests for headcanons and oneshots! could i ask for some headcanons on either a gn or male MC bringing a brother along to get their first tattoo? as in the MC getting their first tattoo and having the brother come along because they’re secretly nervous lol….. thanks so much! <3

Aaa! Of course! I originally planned to write this as a M!MC but it ended up completely gender neutral. Also this idea is so creative so thank u for asking me to write this ^^

☆ The Brothers Coming With GN!MC to Get Their First Tattoo!  ☆

You finally did it! You gained the courage to finally get your first tattoo. You've been wanting this for awhile, it's just external forces always made it difficult for you to get one. I guess the brothers really helped with your confidence huh? Well the days leading up to the appointment your nervousness started to get the best of you. What if it hurts too much?

Not wanting to cancel the appointment, you decided to ask one of the brothers to come with you! Just for fun y'know... not because your scared or anything.

Lucifer:

-When you walk into Lucifer’s office asking if he’d come with you to get your first tattoo, he was more than happy to accompany you.

-But he also wanted to have a bit of fun.

-When you go to the shop he immediately noticed that you were nervous, and he started lightly teasing you without hesitation. 

-”Are you nervous MC?” He smirks.

-”No! Why would I be?” You were shaking.

-Oh you’re shaking. Maybe toning it down would be a better idea.

-When the artist comes out and actually begins, Lucifer just puts you on his lap. The pure shock from that would just get rid of any pain in that moment.

-While you’re getting the tattoo, Lucifer’s getting work done on his phone. There’s never a bad time to do work after all! Ignore his massive undereye bags.

-You need a distraction? MC why don’t you start on that potions homework from awhile ago?

-Once the tattoo is completed, Lucifer help you with the aftercare. Once it's healed he will begin to lightly graze his hand over it when he’s close to you.

Mammon:

-You wouldn’t even need to go to him to ask, he’s already going to your room to ask if you can hangout. So when you ask if he could come with you to get your first tattoo, he immediately agrees.

-When you go into the tattoo parlor, he’s just as excited as you are. After all, his human has been talking about this for weeks!

-When the tattoo artist comes out to ask some general questions, Mammon begins to notice your anxiousness. When they leave to set up the work area, Mammon leans over and puts his arm around you.

-Don’t worry MC! You’re the strongest human I know! Plus you have the great Mammon to protect ya!

-When the tattoo artist brings out the needle, Mammon is scared FOR you. But, keeping his word he shakily grabs onto one of your hands.

-“Only focus on me ya hear! It’ll be over before ya know it.”

-The only thing that scared Mammon more then the tattoo was the price OF it.

-He’d contemplate+ getting matching tattoo’s with his human, but needs to check if that would get in the way of his modeling career... just kidding. He doesn’t care

-”Oi MC! We’re gonna match one day. Ya got it?”

Leviathan:

-Convincing Leviathan to go outside can be sort of… difficult. Especially to a place he’s never been to before.

-When he sees how fidgety you are when you ask though, he sighs and agrees. “Fine but only because you’re my Henry”

-When you go into the parlor, he immediately goes to see if any of the tattoos are themed after any anime's. If there are, you will have to drag him away from them so that you can actually get the tattoo.

-When he turns away sad, you grin and offer to come back with him to look at the art another time.

-Depending on where you’re getting your tattoo he’d either play games on his phone with you or you’d just watch, so that there’s something to distract you from the pain. 

-If that doesn’t distract you enough you two will just start rambling about whatever anime you’ve watched last.

Satan:

-He was intrigued that you wanted him to come support you out of everyone. This seemed more like a job for Asmo. You’ll just ask Lucifer instead? Well you should’ve asked for him to come sooner!

-Before even going to the tattoo shop, Satan was doing as much research as possible to make sure you were prepared.

-He brought water and pain killers just to be safe. Yes the water was in a cat themed water bottle. I will not take criticism.

-When you go into the parlor Satan will watch the artist with intrigue and possibly even ask questions about being a tattoo artist.

-Satan will sit beside you and probably read with you or to you. If your handling the pain well enough Satan will probably just hold your hand and continue with the previous conversation he was having with the tattoo artist.

-Once the tattoo is finished Satan will research the best possible tattoo aftercare routine (and obviously talk to the artist about it as well)

-He found the whole experience fascinating, and contemplates maybe even getting a tattoo as well one day. Obviously just to spite Lucifer... no other reason. (-Cough- MC’s approval -cough-)

Asmodeus:

-“OoOo MC where are you getting the tattoo 😏”

-Okay jokes aside, of course he’d come with you! He’s supported tons of his friends and admirers when they were getting their first tattoos! These may or may not have been his name and/or face

-I’m not saying he’d do the same and try to convince you to get a tramp stamp of his name but I’m saying that’s exactly what he’d do 

-Although at the end of the day, no matter what you chose he’d love it!

-When the artist starts working Asmo immediately grabs onto your arm (or whichever arm isn’t getting tattooed) and starts talking about whatever gossip that’s going around currently.

-Every time the artist says “5 more minutes” (which is at least 10 times) Asmo puts his hands through your hair and praises you on how well your doing. Damn even the tattoo artist is blushing.

-Once the tattoo is finished he’d be so excited to take pictures of it, and he’d waste no time finding clothing pieces that would show off the tattoo even more! He'd also ask the artist for tips with aftercare and what skin products are okay to put on the tattoo.

Beelzebub: 

-You want Beel to come with you to get a tattoo? 

-“I mean if it makes you happy MC! Can we go to Madame Screams afterwards?”

-You walk into the tattoo shop and decide to look at some of the designs with Beel

-You turn for a second because you saw an amazing design. Although you nearly had a heart attack when you turned back.

-No Beel wait the food designs aren’t actual food!!

-Because of the amount of exercise this man does, and some not so... happy issues. Beel knows some very effective breathing exercises! Before and during the beginning of the tattoo he’d lead you through some breathing exercises to help you through the pain and any possible anxiety.

-He’s already holding your hand (if you allow it) and if the pain gets to be too much he gives you 100% permission for you to squeeze his hand, he’ll barely feel it anyways. Once the tattoo is finished Beel grins at the sight of it.

-”Wow MC it looks great!”. If the tattoo involves food in anyway, you may need to remind him that it’s not real as his stomach growls almost immediately. 

-”Could we go to Madame Screams now?”

Belphegor:

-“Why don’t we just take a nap instead?”

-When he realizes how much you really want this tattoo he begrudgingly agrees. Although he immediately cheers up when you offer to cuddle with him when you both get home.

-You go into the shop and he wants to get it done as fast as possible

-When the tattoo artist begins, Belphie was originally holding your hand.

-Now he’s just found anyway possible to cuddle with you... oh nope now he’s just asleep.

-On the positive side it gives you the opportunity to put your hands through his hair to help calm down. You kind of start drifting off yourself...

-Next thing you know you’ve woken up with the finished tattoo. Belphie eventually wakes up as well and lets out a long yawn.

-”Wow MC... it looks great. Do you wanna go take a nap at the planetarium?”

[wypapichulo]

𝟕 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬.

pairing ; lee donghyuck x reader genre ; fluff, very very slight angst / high school au word count ; 5010 words warnings ; some explicit language? the use of the word 'shit' a few times? playlist ; dive into you – nct dream | walk you home – nct dream | best friend – rex orange county | anti-romantic – txt | can't take my eyes off you – frankie valli | backyard boy – claire rosinkranz author's note ; i hope the ending doesn't sound too rushed,, aah i just lost the vibe and wanted to get it done ;,, i hope it's alright🚶 dt ; @matchaeee <3

Making someone you don't know fall for you would have been easier. Making your best friend fall in love with you? A little bit more of a hassle But not unless they've been in love with you from the start.

“I can make her fall in love with me in 7 days”

Haechan had said this whilst he was sitting on the sidewalk in front of the small convenience store beside an exasperated looking Jeno. “Hyuck, I’m pretty sure you can’t.”, “No I’m confident!” He continued, sipping his carbonated drink and cutting Jeno off as he spoke, “Look– I know her inside and out, I’m sure I know just the right tricks to make her fall for me!”

Jeno sighed slightly, knowing it was no use to force Haechan to listen to him. “You shouldn’t play with feelings like this…” He started, taking a sip of his own soda, “Can’t you just tell her you like her like a normal person–“, “you’re seriously no fun.” Jeno deadpanned at the statement, hand ready to reach for the brunets to pull his fingers back, “I just wanna see if she really likes me back for real!” he said, hands fidgeting with the rim of the soda can, “I don’t know, what if she doesn’t like me and rejects me when I ask her!”

“So the only logical way to fix that is by ‘making her fall in love with you in seven days’?!” Jeno exclaimed, nearly in tears at his own friend’s stupidity. Haechan grinned, “well if she doesn’t like me yet, she’ll definitely like me by the end of this.”

“I’m going to forget about him in the next 7 days.”

Renjun looked up in surprise at the girl’s statement, never having thought of the day she’d finally say it.

“You won’t.” He stated simply, continuing to sketch the tree outside the window of her room. She whined slightly, turning her attention to the boy in her room, “and what makes you say that?”

“You said that two years ago.”, “I was younger then!”, “Sure you were.”

She groaned, falling back on her bed with a thud, “I need to try… this one-sided shit is getting to me…”

Turning to look at the heap of sadness on the bed, Renjun sighed quietly. “I definitely won’t question you if you tell me you’re still in love with him by the end of it.”

“I’m only trying right?”

DAY 1

“How you doin’ gorgeous~”

To say she was shocked was an understatement. What?

“What do you want Hyuck.” She asked with a deadpan, staring down at the blank page of her notebook. Her plan was to study but it seemed as if the man duped as her best friend had other ideas. “I don’t want anything! Can’t I say nice things about you?” He said, taking the seat across from her.

The library was quiet, save for the few students chattering mutedly by the computers. The whole day Haechan had been fine– normal, so to speak… He sat next to her as usual during lunch–as they barely shared any classes this school year–and joked around for a bit, he stole the milk that she had painstakingly waited behind a line of first years to buy, giving her a presumably empty promise that he’d buy her another one… but then he came in the library and said that?

“You’ve never called me that before,” she scoffed, “and if you have, I’d remember.”

Of course she would. Somehow every compliment he had given her always stuck in her mind, even the few ingenuine ones that came out as jokes. The time he called her quick witted when she replied to one of his jokes, the time he said she was pretty good at math’s when she had explained to him how to find an axis… And of course there was the time he had exclaimed how she was prettier than the girl she had been talking shit about… not one of her best feats but... it was something.

So to have him call her gorgeous, even if it was just as a passing nickname… it was something that made her cheeks burn when she remembered his exact wording of the sentence.

“Well that doesn’t matter does it?” he said, leaning over the table to read through the same passage as she had been going through for the last hour, trying to fit anything and everything in her head. “Are you having trouble with anything?”

“Nothing you can help me with.” She scoffed, turning a page. “Aw, come on, don’t say that!” he laughed aloud, earning him an abundance of shushes from the few students scattered around the area. “I’m sure I, with my great expertise, can help you in some way with–“ he looked down at the chapter’s name, “intercontinental… exchange… what the hell is this–“

She laughed lightly at his confusion, “It’s economics,” she smiled, making his heart race with anticipation for some unknown reason, “you won’t get it.”

“Well maybe if you taught me, I’d understand.” He chuckled softly, sitting properly once more and sighing as he stared at the soft curve of her lips. She blushed lightly, realizing the direction of his eyes and looking back down to her book.

Barely the first day and she was already smitten once more with him… she wondered if she’d ever manage to escape from the trap that was Lee Donghyuck.

DAY 2

Closing her locker up, she nearly went into cardiac arrest as she saw none other than Haechan leaning on the locker right beside hers.

“Donghyuck! You almost gave me a heart attack!” she exclaimed, heart pounding at a thousand beats per second… or not– maybe she was just exaggerating…

He smirked, an image that had always and forever will be engraved into the crevices of her mind. “I hope that’s a good thing?”

She merely rolled her eyes at him, shoving her textbook into her backpack. “no.” she stated with a deadpan, turning to walk away. “Wait uppp!” he whined, following along behind the exasperated girl. If Jeno was tired of him, then she was something else entirely. How she managed to keep up with the outgoing boy was a mystery even to herself.

“Are you busy this weekend?” he asked as he caught up with her and took long steps to follow along with her short quick paces, “I was thinking maybe we could go to that new café that just opened– you know, the library one?”

She kept on walking, but her pace slowed significantly. A small tell to her interest in the subject. He smiled.

“You don’t even like reading much.” She said with a chuckle, “why’d you wanna go there?” She asked softly glancing up at him. “Well… you like reading… so–“ he shrugged slightly “–I thought you’d enjoy it…”

See this was the thing about him. Whenever she had made a commitment to stop thinking about him–leave her feelings for him in the dust–he’d always come back strong, making her feel as if he never wanted her to stop liking him. But what could she do? It seemed as if he never had the slightest interest in being anything other than friends.

She smiled softly, sighing as she opened her mouth to give out a small, “alright.” As her answer to his invitation.

“Great! It’s a date!”

The four words stopped her in her tracks between the horde of students walking to and from to get to their classes.

He only grinned, turning to face her as he walked backwards. “I’ll see you after class!”

She was frozen in place it seemed. Blinking as she watched the retreating back of the boy who had… just asked her out?

Again, confusion had begun to settle in. Was this ‘date’ meant to be a romantic date? Or just– one where they hung out as friends and had coffee?

In her confusion, she had forgotten to ask him about the exact day of which their little ‘date’ was supposed to be on… but she was sure he’d text her everything she needed to know about it, right down to the dress code.

Retracing her thoughts, maybe she was wrong… this might have been the first time he’d ever shown any interest in being anything more than friends… And to be quite honest, it may or may not have scared her…

What would she do if it turned out he really had feelings for her…? DAY 3

“I thought you said you were going to stop liking him.”

She had found Renjun in the art room as per usual, painting away at whatever his heart had decided to explore. The golden particles drifted in from the late afternoon sun as she had just finished up her own after school activity. “I want to… But he’s making it so hard!” she exclaimed, sitting on a table to the side at the back of the room.

Renjun was somehow her only sane friend, and even so, he preferred to stay out of her messy love life with the undeniably annoying Haechan. Not to mention that he couldn’t even talk to Haechan without bursting a nerve. “I don’t understand how you don’t see how annoying the boy is.” He said nonchalantly as he continued to mix and match an array of greens to the trees he had started on. “Just thinking of that should be enough to stir you away from him.”

Sighing in aggravation to her situation, she sticked out her tongue at the back of his head. “I saw that.” He stated, barely even looking up from his canvas. “’course you did…” she grumbled lowly, pouting and looking out of the window.

“That’s just the thing…” she started, her tone soft and her eyes unfocused, “he’s not… annoying…”

Renjun scoffed aloud, nearly keeling over in laughter. “Are you sure about that?” He said in between his dying giggles, turning to finally look at the girl who was now looking at him with an unamused look. “Shut up– you know what I mean!” she cried out in annoyance. He made a face, turning back to his painting and continuing to work on the piece. “Really, when you get to know him– he’s more than that!” she tilted her head back to rest on the cool wall of the classroom.

“Today he actually got me the milk I wanted…” she muttered softly, “It’s not much of course… but…”

“You said the other day that you had to wait a long time to get the milk cause of those underclassmen, so– y’know– I got it for you.”

“But it’s enough for you to stay deeply in love with him isn’t it.” Renjun sighed, knowing that she would start yelling as soon as the thought sunk in her head.

To his surprise, she didn’t. She simply sat in thought in the back of the class, watching as Renjun shrugged and continued with his painting. She mulled it over, what he said, and came to the personal conclusion that he in fact was right. It was no use in fighting the feeling. She really did care for him… a little afraid to say love– but she cared for him immensely nonetheless.

She got off the table and walked towards where Renjun sat with his canvas and patted his shoulder lightly.

“Thanks Renjunnie.”

“I told you not to call me that… makes me sound like a child...” He murmured, rolling his eyes before continuing, “what are you even thanking me for anyways? I didn’t do anything. The feelings were there the whole time.”

Her lips turned up slightly, and she hummed softly before walking towards the door.

“You did more than you think.” She said, turning to look at him once more as she opened the door. He merely looked at her in puzzlement, not understanding just how he had helped her in her quest of love. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow!”

“Yeah… see you…” he muttered quietly, his eyebrows still furrowed in confusion, before shaking his head as the door fell shut.

“Why are all my friends so weird…”

DAY 4

The living room of her house was spacious.

Very much so that she wondered why it felt as if she couldn’t even get a distance away from the clingy boy.

Haechan had come over to help her with some of her class work she was struggling with, and truly, she couldn’t thank him enough for the help… but why did he have to sit so close to her?

He had been reading a passage out to her from the book, shoulders brushing ever so slightly against one another, causing her cheeks to flare with heat. Every single move he made seemed to make her tense up all the more.

She was never like this! Each time they had studied together, even as much as she liked him, it never caused her to blush or fidget as much as she was doing now.

Maybe it was the effect of realizing that he might like her after all… The last three days were such an improvement in that area of their relationship that it made her wonder if he actually had liked her all along and just decided to showcase it all now.

“And that’s why the tectonic pressure in this area is much larger than here.” He explained– arm stretching slightly over her to point at an image on the book. For some unknown reason, she had held her breath ever so slightly as to maybe become stone in the next few seconds. He turned to look at her– their faces not too far from one another, and it was like time had stopped right in that moment, just to make her realize how much trouble she was in by falling for this forsaken boy. She could feel her face redden to the deep color of the roses on the front porch of her house, and suddenly, all she wanted to do was melt into a puddle right there and then.

Oddly enough, he seemed to be reactionless. It was as if the proximity of their faces had absolutely no effect on his own heart, bringing up the question in her mind once more whether he actually held any feelings for her other than the simple platonic ones.

“You weren’t paying attention were you?”

Her eyebrows raised to her hairline, quite literally, at the accusing statement he had thrown upon her. “I– Hey! I was listening!”

Suddenly every single feeling of embarrassment left her body as she pushed him playfully, as a means to get away from him as well. He yelped aloud, his back hitting the couch. “You weren’t!” he called out, a smile beginning to grow on the edges of his lips, “I can tell when you’re listening and when you’re not! And here, you were clearly not!”

She laughed loudly, throwing her head back as she did so. It had been ages since she had laughed so freely, and Haechan soaked up every single moment of it. His smile softened as he watched she tips of her eyes crinkle up and turn into crescents– the sound of her laughter as melodious as his own favorite song. In the moment, he wished so dearly he could just reach over and kiss her face all over, his heard filling up with affection he wished to shower her with.

Her laughter died down and she simply turned to look at him with a look in her eyes that he couldn’t quite place. “I really haven’t laughed that much in a while…” she said softly, watching as he nodded in listening. “I can tell.”

She giggled lightly once more. “Should we go back to studying?” she asked, a teasing smile gracing her features, to which he merely scoffed and laughed at.

“Only if you’ll listen properly this time.”

Another 3 days to go. If he was able to successfully make her fall for him, he’d be able to do all he wanted and more. DAY 5

So maybe accepting a walk home from the person you’re trying to forget about isn’t the best strategy to go with… but– in defense, Haechan had been more the one to tag along home, rather than ask her if she wanted anyone to walk her.

She had gotten used to it… but with the antics of the past week and the upcoming date on the Sunday (Yes he had given her all the information the night before. Yes he sent her every available picture there was of the place. Yes he was very excited and honestly, so was she.), who wouldn’t?

As Saturday was a day where she and the rest of the ’00 liners’–as they all preferred to call themselves (though their whole school year was the ’00 line’ so honestly that nickname was rather stupid)–usually had a game night at either Jeno or Jaemin’s house, both she and Haechan had settled on going to the cute little library-esque café on the Sunday.

The whole way home, Haechan couldn’t help but stare softly as she recounted the events of the day. Again, being in different classes had its perks, as there was always something new to tell each other about.

Every step he took felt heavier. He knew they both were getting closer to her house– every time he saw a bench on the side of the street his instinct would tell him to sit down with her and just talk for longer, wanting to keep all her minutes for himself selfishly.

“So that’s why she was kicked out of the class today– I honestly can’t believe she had the nerve to pull that off!” laughing slightly, she turned to face Haechan, “I’m sure you’d do some stupid shit like that too.”

Haechan snapped out of his short daze if not to cry out words of denial, causing her to laugh even louder at his insistence that he would not blend and eat drink his homework just to get extra time on a project.

“After all, I’m not stupid– I don’t need extra project time since I’m just that smart!” He huffed, glancing to the girl beside him to see if he had gauged a reaction out of her. To his delight, she laughed once more, letting him relish in her melodic laughter. “you’re really full of yourself you know?”

This erupted another fit of laughter and denial to spurt from the two, pitter patting home for the day. “I’m not full of myself! I’m just confident!”, “same difference, Hyuck.” She said between breaths as her laughter finally died down.

He merely huffed and pouted­– turning to the side and glancing at her a few times to gain her remorse for her mean words ; it clearly didn’t work as all she did was giggle softly and shook her head.

The brush of the back of their hands made his heart pound faster. He glanced down to look and there it was, the soft hand he wanted to hold in his so much. He looked back up in a panic– noticing that they were getting closer to her house.

Unknown to him, her heart was just as heavy at the thought of having to part with him for the day. Though she knew tomorrow would be another day that would definitely be spent with him, it made her sorrowful to think of the fact that they’d have to be apart for the night. Cheesy as it may seem.

As they stood in front of the pathway up to her front door, he debated internally on whether or not he should do what he wanted to do or not, his head spinning at the thought of her maybe thinking he was an idiot for what he was about to do. She smiled up at him, a silent goodbye being exchanged between them, before turning around to walk up the pavement to her house.

“(Y/N)!”

Her feet stopped, and in turn, so did her heart. In a good way, of course, but it stopped nonetheless. She stayed silent for a moment before turning to face the brunet once more. “Yeah?” she asked quietly, a soft smile present on her features.

His mouth dried up. He had nothing to say– stupid! Why did he stop her like that then?

“I– Uh…” he faltered in his words; eyes still stuck on her face. Lips, to be specific.

She tilted her head slightly in question, wondering what was going through that enigma of a mind everyone called Haechan. “Hyuck?”

He smiled and shook his head, opting to grin at her like the idiot in love he was. “Until we meet again tomorrow~” he said in a mock posh accent which made her giggle lightly behind her hand. She merely shook her head and turned once more, walking up to her front door and opening it slowly, turning to give him one last smile before she closed the door.

There he stood like a lovestruck fool in the middle of her driveway as he watched her back turn as she finally walked into the house.

“I wish I had the courage to give you that hug…” DAY 6

Jeno’s house was the choice of the week, Haechan and Jaemin having pestered him into agreement over where they’d all be bundling into for the afternoon.

“I really don’t see why it should have to be my house!” Jeno whined as he stepped into the living room with snacks in hand, “It was already my house last week! It should be nana’s this week…” he trailed off, grumbling as he stepped over the legs of a serious Haechan and sat between the sole girl in their group and Jaemin on the floor. Jaemin laughed aloud, “you have the comfiest sofa!” he hollered out, earning him a kick from Renjun, who’s legs he was sitting in between.

“You’re not even sitting on the sofa,” Renjun retaliated for Jeno, cutting him some slack, “you’re leaning on my legs.”

“Well they sure are comfy if that’s what you’re implying.” Jaemin said, pressing at the buttons erratically as he flurried to beat Haechan at what seemed to be a simple game of mario kart. Hey, anything to beat Haechan right?

“DAMN!” Haechan yelled, causing the girl seated beside him to jump slightly in her seat. Jaemin only laughed, leaning his head up to look at an unimpressed Renjun.

“Hyuck give me the controller, I’m gonna beat Jaemin.” Renjun said with some form of courage to beat the one and only Nana. “Sure you are,” he said, standing up and handing the controller over to Renjun. “Anymore soda anyone?” he asked, stepping to the side to head over to the kitchen. “I’ll have a soda!”, “alrighty! One soda coming right up!” Haechan called out, turning right out to the kitchen.

“I’m gonna run out of sodas at the rate you’re drinking them…” Jeno murmured to her softly, a giggle erupting out of her lips, “fine then– I’ll have a cup of tea instead, ‘s that better?” she asked softly, smiling at the black-haired boy beside her. Jeno smiled back, his eyes disappearing behind his perfect crescents, “I’ll go get you some then.” He said, standing up from his seat to get her some tea.

Walking into the kitchen, he tutted lightly as he found Haechan going through his fridge. “And what if my mom was the one who had walked in?” Jeno stated with a deadpan, rolling his eyes at the idiotic grin his friend gave him. “First off– she’s not home. Second off– your mom loves me!” Haechan exclaimed, closing the fridge behind him after finding nothing of his interest. He picked up the sodas on the counter– before Jeno stopped him. “She changed her mind on the sodas, said she’d have tea instead.” He explained, moving to the cabinets to take out some tea to brew for her, to which Haechan simply hummed in understanding before cracking one of the soda cans open and sipping it.

“So…” Jeno started, turning to face him as he leaned on the counter behind him, “how’s the love quest?” He queried, wondering about his best friends own pursuit of love. “Is she ‘in love’ with you yet?”

Haechan shrugged slightly, “I sure hope she is… if not then I’m not sure what I’m gonna do tomorrow…”

“Why… What’s tomorrow?” Jeno questioned again, tilting his head in confusion. In Haechan’s mind… he looked rather like a lost puppy…

“Date.” The only word that came out of Haechan’s mouth as he stared with a smirk on his face to the boy standing opposite him.

Jeno’s eyes widened significantly, “Date? You mean you asked her out successfully?”

Haechan grinned, “Of course I did!”, he boasted smugly, “only a fool wouldn’t be able to make her fall in love! Especially with the shitty dudes she’s liked before.”

Jeno looked up in glee, “then– after that– my days of hell are over! I won’t have to listen to your lamenting again!” He whined when Jeno exclaimed that, shaking his head, “I wasn’t lamenting, you were the one who complained about my topic of conversation–“ he paused, rolling his eyes at the grinning puppy-like boy.

“Alright fine maybe I was,” he agreed begrudgingly, “But hey! I managed to make her fall in love with me AND score a date in 7 days! My lamenting wasn’t for nothing after all!”

Their shared laughter was cut short by the sound of the slamming of the front door and the cries of both Renjun and Jaemin. Haechan looked up worriedly at Jeno, who in turn gestured him to the kitchen exit.

“what’s wrong?” Haechan asked once he reached by the front door beside the other two boys. “You!” Renjun seethed, turning to glare at the brunet, “She was already trying to forget about you and now you play with her feelings like this!”

Furrowing his eyebrows in confusion, Haechan scoffed, “I never played her like shit! I was always honest!”, “Then tell me what this stupid 7 day bet is all about!” Renjun yelled in his face, angry for his best friend who had muffled out in tears the short reason she was leaving so early.

“Bet?” he questioned, truly confused as to the entirety of the situation, “what fucking bet?”

Renjun rolled his eyes, “Don’t play stupid Donghyuck. You were talking to Jeno about some 7 day bet to get her to like you or something–”, “wait, this is all wrong!” Jeno exclaimed, “We never made a bet! Hyuck wanted to confess to her at the end of the week, and that’s why the whole week he had been making proper advances to her…”

The room stilled as the clarity of the situation which was misunderstood settled into their heads.

“I need to talk to (Y/N).” DAY 7

Checking her phone, she grumbled slightly, rereading the message that Haechan had sent to her the evening prior, or rather, spammed her endlessly.

hyuck ♡ : please come tomorrow.

hyuck ♡ : i really really have to talk to you about this :((

hyuck ♡ : please please please

hyuck ♡ : I don’t know what I’ll do if you don’t come :(((

hyuck ♡ : please? At least consider it?

Sighing quietly as she scrolled through the abundance of messages of theirs from previous sleepless nights, she jumped when she heard the call of the voice she had cried herself to sleep over the night before. Oh his treacherous voice, hurting her feelings like that with the words that came out of his wretched mouth yesterday.

“(Y/N)!” he said, jogging up to her with a grin spread on his face, almost as if yesterday had been a dream and she had simply hallucinated the entire event. But she knew better than to believe him that fast.

Giving him a curt nod, she spoke up before anything could leave his mouth– “Tell me, Donghyuck, what happened yesterday?” she started, face hard with the cut still deep in her heart. His smile faltered, realizing just how much his words had hurt her feelings the day before.

“Do you take my feelings as a joke?” she asked again, looking to her feet in fear of her eyes betraying her and leaving tear stains across her cheeks, “because if you do then i–“

“No!” he cut, knowing that if he let this go on for longer it would only hurt her more, “No, I’d never!”

She was quiet, listening to the sound of his ragged breathing, almost as if the quietness would let her hear the sound of his heartbeat.

“Then what… what…”

He sighed softly, “I was… scared.”

Looking up, she was met with the troubled face of the person she once thought to be the largest of mysteries. “I didn’t want to be faced with rejection, I don’t know what I’d do if I ever lost you, as a friend or as…” he cleared his throat slightly, turning to the side, “as something more.”

The tension was thick, the street around them continuing on its route of life whilst they both stood in their own quiet bubble. Her eyes softened at his statement, the pieces of the puzzle which was Haechan starting to become clearer by every word.

“And you thought the most logical way to go, was to ‘make me fall in love with you in seven days’? come on Hyuck we’re not in some stupid romance movie–“, Haechan’s whine cut her voice short, “You sound just like Jeno now!” he cried, making her laugh softly, before stepping forward to take his hand in hers.

He looked down at their intertwined hands and looked right back up at her questioningly. “what…”

“If you liked me, you really should have just said so…” she muttered softly, shaking her head with a slight giggle, “If you did, it definitely would have saved us 7 days.”

He grinned widely, “so this… makes us boyfriend and girlfriend now, right?” he asked, grin turning into a teasing smirk on his face, making the girl before him scoff and laugh.

“We’ll see in 7 days.”

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Day 70: Patronus

"I'm doomed," Draco hissed at Pansy as they left the Defense Against the Dark Arts Classroom. "The final is in less than a month! How could Higgins spring this on us?"

"Calm down," Pansy said.

"Calm down? Calm down?! Pansy, you recall that I have a dark mark don't you? The final is half of our grade! I'm going to fail."

She shook her head, "You're not going to fail," she informed him calmly. "You'll learn Draco, you have over three weeks."

"But I'm an ex-death eater," he whispered, as though anyone could ever forget. "Death eaters can't cast a patronus, you know that."

"That's not true," a voice behind them piped up, making Draco jump.

"For Circe's sake, Potter, stop sneaking around," he grumbled.

The other boy shrugged, "Sorry," he said unrepentantly, "Couldn't help but overhear what you were saying."

Draco rolled his eyes, "Oh, you just couldn't help it, huh?"

He flicked a careless grin at Draco, his dimple showing, and as always, Draco didn't know quite what to do with that. "I'm just saying that death eaters could cast a patronus."

"How would you know?" Draco asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Snape could cast one, and Merlin knows that you did far less horrific shite than he did," Potter replied as he sauntered past them and into the common room. "I could help you, if you want," he called over his shoulder before walking out of view.

Pansy opened her mouth and he cut her off, "Don't," he said, holding up a hand.

(Read more below the cut)

She cackled, "I bet there's a thing or two he could help you with."

"Why am I friends with you?" he groaned. "I'll figure it out myself," he added with a haughty sniff.

---------

A week and a half passed and Draco was no closer than he'd been the day she'd first assigned this task to them as part of their final. Draco sat in the library, pouring over textbooks that were supposed to help to teach you to cast one but none of them seemed to help.

"Hey," Potter said as he dropped into the chair across from Draco like they were friends or something. He'd been doing it since February and Draco still couldn't understand it. "How are you?"

"Awful," Draco replied with a groan. "I'm going to fail my Defense final and then I'm going to go to prison because passing all of my classes is part of my parole," he said, the words pouring out of his mouth without his consent. "And I never imagined that passing my classes would be a problem, but-"

"Draco," Potter said, his voice calm and unruffled, "Let me help you."

"You can't," he said shaking his head.

Potter tilted his head consideringly, "Maybe not but would it hurt to try? I've taught like over twenty other teens to do it," he added.

Draco bit his lip, what could it really hurt?

"Come on," Potter said, standing up and holding out a hand to pull Draco to his feet. "If it fails you can always come back and read through dusty books some more."

"Fine," he sighed, reaching out and taking Harry's hand, a thrill tingling up his arm at the contact.

Harry didn't let go right away as he started walking and Draco's heart tripped along inside of his chest as he stumbled after him.

"Where are we going?" Draco asked.

He released his hand but gave him a little smile, "we can't very well practice it in the library, can we?"

Then Harry took off running and Draco had no choice but to jog after him, spluttering indignantly. "Why are we running?"

"Because it feels good," Harry replied as he raced down the stairs and outside.

When they reached just the edge of the forest, where there weren't any signs of other students Potter stopped and took off his cloak, enlarged it, and laid down on it.

"What are you doing?"

Harry just patted the cloak beside him.

"Potter," he said, hands on his hips.

The other boy opened his eyes and said, "Trust the process. Come lay down."

With a sigh he laid down on the cloak and stared up at the sun peaking through the branches.

"Relax," Harry whispered, covering Draco's hand with his own.

Somehow, it soothed Draco and made him panic all at once but at least it wasn't the normal kind anxiety, it actually made him feel a weird sort of excited anticipation.

"Think of a happy memory," he murmured, "A really happy one that you can feel all the way down to your toes."

He was quiet, trying to think, "It's been a while since I've been that happy," he confessed.

Harry's hand squeezed his gently and he thought this was probably as happy a moment as any. He focused on the feelings in his body.

"When you're ready," Harry said a few minutes later, "we'll stand up and try to cast. You've already got the mechanics down, it's just about getting the feelings right."

Draco nodded, then pushed himself to his feet.

The other boy stood behind him and rested a hand on his shoulder, "Think of your happy moment," he murmured. "Let it fill you up."

He inhaled, thinking of the way Harry's body felt next to his, of the warmth of his hand, the tingles in the pit of his stomach; and then he cast. "Expecto Patronum," he said, circling his wand.

A thin, silvery mist appeared from the end of his wand and he stared at it in shock, "Did you-?" he started.

"Well done," Harry encouraged. "See. You can do it."

"Can you show me yours once?" he asked. "It would be helpful to see your technique," and while this was the truth, it wasn't the whole truth; mostly Draco was just curious to see Harry's patronus for himself.

Harry nodded slowly, "Just, don't tell anyone."

"What? Why?"

"Because it's changed," Harry replied "and I don't mind you knowing but I don't know quite what it means and I'd rather figure it out before the press catches wind of it."

"You don't have to show me," he ventured.

The other boy shook his head and took a deep breath "Expecto patronum," he said and his wand produced what appeared to be a fox of some sort. "Hermione thinks it's an arctic fox," Harry said as they watched it lope around the clearing.

"It's beautiful," Draco breathed.

"Thanks," Harry said with a little smile. "She tells me it's because I've become more withdrawn, that I had to be more reliant on myself," he shrugged.

"Do you miss your stag?"

He nodded, "It was nice to be connected to my mum and dad, you know? To have something in common with them."

"I'm sorry," Draco said softly.

Harry shrugged, "There must be a bigger reason," he said. "I hope, anyway." His fox dissipated and Harry turned to him, "Let's see yours again."

-------

Over the next two weeks, Draco's patronus charm got stronger, and once he thought he'd caught the glimpse of a what appeared to be a dog's nose, perhaps, but nothing more.

"The final's tomorrow," he told Harry as they laid out under the trees, "And I still haven't been able to conjure it. I'm going to fail."

"What's your happy memory?" Harry asked.

"What's your's?" Draco countered.

Harry hummed thoughtfully, "It changes," he said. "The first time I cast one it was of my mum's voice. I don't even know if it was a real memory of not," he added.

"What about the last one you cast?" Draco asked.

The other boy turned his head to look at Draco, "It was that you were giving me a chance," he confessed softly with a little smile. "Will you tell me yours?" he asked.

Draco bit his lip, "Just this," he whispered finally. "There's something about you that just," he trailed off, searching for the right descriptor, "Thrills me. And it used to be in all the wrong ways, but..." he trailed off feeling a little shy and embarrassed.

"But now it feels a little bit like flying," Harry whispered. "At least that's how it feels for me."

The corner of his mouth tipped up, "Me too."

Harry rolled onto his side, "Can I kiss you?"

Draco nodded up at him and Harry leaned down to press his mouth softly to Draco's, his fingers brushing the hair lightly back from his face.

He reached out and pulled the other boy a little closer, tilting his head to find a better angle. After a minute, he pulled back, "Wait a second," he said as he stood up and set himself up to cast. He let the kiss wash over him again in his memory, filling him up with boundless joy, and the silver mist came out thicker than ever before.

Harry stood up and pressed a soft kiss to the back of his neck. "Try again," he murmured.

Draco took a deep breath, feeling the heat radiating off of Harry's body. "Expecto Patronum!" he said once more and his patronus burst from the end of his wand.

He stared at it, hardly daring to believe what he was seeing.

Harry's breath caught as he leaned forward, pressing against Draco's back to get a closer look. "I hoped so," he said softly as Draco's little arctic fox trotted around them.

"Expecto Patronum," Harry said and his arctic fox appeared, making a beeline for Draco's.

Draco leaned back against Harry, "What does mean that they're the same?"

"My mum's and dad's were the same animal," he said, "and Snapes was the same as her's."

"What does it mean?" he asked again, he had his suspicions but he needed to hear Harry say it first.

Harry cleared his throat, "Well I don't want speak for you, but I think it means that at the very least, I'm in love with you."

Draco blinked, then turned himself around in Harry arms, "I think I'm in love with you, too," he confessed with a smile.

And this was only the start of the many, many ways that they would spend the rest of their lives making one another happy.

-----------

Thanks so much @oviovs, for the prompt! It's not quite established at the beginning but I hope you enjoy it anyway! Thank you for all of the love and encouragement you leave on my little stories. <3

Day 69: Soaked | Day 71: Return

[rumblelibrary]

I'm not sure if you have already done something like this before, and if you did, please let me know, I'd love to read it, BUT I was wondering if you could do a little thing, maybe with Sebastian Zöllner, where he is like totally behind on every fucking deadline, work is just piling up, he got into stress with his ex, the dishes are not done, he should go take out the trash, you know, everything is just piling up and he just cracks under the pressure, severely doubting his worth as a person. And his friend, the reader, gotta try their best to build him up again, telling him all the things they love about him, and it slowly turns into a love confession without them noticing.

Is this too elaborate, does that make sense for Seb? Idk. To me it does? Like he's always very...Seb around other people, but deep down I feel like he's always under this pressure to live up to his own and others expectations, wanting to be big and famous and perfect in a way.

I'm so sorry, brain go brrr.

Never Enough [Sebastian Zöllner x Reader]

Word Count: 4k Warnings: bad habits (heavy smoking and drinking), self deprecation, depression and some fluff in the end. A/N: I loved this prompt, I love to write Sebastian so thanks to you once more for giving me this opportunity

He should have probably realised something was wrong when the ashtray was vomiting cigarettes out from its dooming position beside the laptop.

He nervously used the left part of the one he just ended to scavenge some space and just pressed it along the others.

Or maybe when after another sip of the same cold coffee mixed with cheap gin he felt the walls of his stomach revolting and stirring against him, threatening a much bigger damage.

Or, again, when he felt like calling back Elke because he was so alone and he was hungry and tired, and she might hate him but he could pull some puppy eyes and maybe it would work. It usually did.

The truth was that he shouldn’t have taken up so many jobs, but the bank account was crying and he needed them, he needed the money.

But again: writing about the umpteenth girl- artist performing naked on a famous historic location?

Or do we have to talk about the way somebody splashed some colour here and there  on a canvas saying it is the catharsis of his young mind against the social construct?

Please, may God spare him from the man calling himself landscape artist because he takes pictures of naked girls on a field.

Charged up with this amount of nothingness, he could just write and delete, write and delete, words count going quickly up to 400 only to go back at 0 in a snap of his fingers over the buttons, because he couldn’t just tear them down. He had to give them some hope, a glimpse of potential he couldn’t see and he wasn’t even aware it existed. Each of them disgusted him, but he was specifically asked to be entertaining and not a killer with his words.

So he kept swiping up videos and photos of these artists, trying to find one thing, one holy grail to get attached to and finally write one good optimistic line in the middle of the words he had to pull up to keep a moderate tone.

He rubbed his temple running over his hairline, which by the way was perfectly fine, before his hand reached down and he touched his t-shirt pulling on the neckline to gather some air, he was wearing his pyjama still, white stained shirt on blue tartan pants. He raised up the shirt and bowed his head down giving in a long inhale from the inside and just cringed to himself.

He looked around as he couldn’t stand up, if he did then he will get only more distracted and these articles needed to be ready for tomorrow.

He noticed the spray against the mosquitos on the floor, those little bastards always hiding under his desk to bite his ankles, he picked it up and sprayed it over himself like it was perfume hoping to ignore the need of a shower for few more hours.

His eyes scanned the small studio flat he was living now: the dishes sticking out of the sink, the noisy fridge buzzing. The one table that was also his work desk filled with used mugs, stained plates covered in cigarettes and leftovers, empty packages of his favourite brand discarded everywhere: from the bathroom up to the couch and to the small bed he owned. Damn, if he run out of cigarette it will be hard to ignore how he also run out of food.

The space was dark and gloomy, some of his stuff still packed up, the fake pop art panting of him and Elke staring at him reminding him of his other loss.

He didn’t touch the bed in days, he just slept on the seat or on the couch.

His attention was attracted by his phone buzzing.

He sat up straight as it was her, it was Elke.

Did she sense his discomfort? 

“Elke” he picked up the call in a second.

“Wow, a quick answer, did you have your phone already in your hand or it happens just so late at night?”

Her sarcasm did’t go past him, but he just thought how long it was since he heard a human voice and not the recording of some idiot calling himself artist.

“No, I was thinking of you”

“Yes, sure, look I have sent you an email with the bills of the time you were here, the ones you have left to pay and it is only fair that you pay at least half of them”

“Sure” he just said it because he wanted to go past the point of money, he wanted her back. Maybe he could crush at her place, feel her hands through his hair, shower, sleep some good sleep and the articles will come around in few types “Elke, I was thinking we might…”

“I just called you for the bills”

“I know, but maybe we could have” his eyes darted at the top right of his laptop screen to see the time “a drink together?”

She huffed a laughter as he frowned lightly “I know you Seb, if it is money or sex what you’re looking for that door is closed and it has been for a long time”

“I know” he murmured as he let out a breathy sigh, a dooming sense of loneliness creeping over him like a giant spider ready to wrap him up and eat him “I just hoped…”

“Don’t hope Sebastian, you’re already an hopeless cause”

She hung up on him and he was left there, he kept that same pose with his phone against his ear. His eyes trailing once again over the empty page of his document on the screen, on the chaos surrounding him.

He nibbled on his bottom lip before running his tongue over the pained area.

He pushed the phone back down on the table with a tremble of his jaw and a shaky hand.

She was right.

What he did of his life anyway? He lost most of his occasions in life, he was now in his thirties and he concluded nothing of what he hoped to be, he failed in all the departments both as an artist and as a critic.

A jack of all trades is a master of none, and maybe only the first type of the famous quote could be applied to him.

He couldn’t even take the trash out or he couldn’t remember the last time he ate something that was vaguely resembling of fruits or vegetables. It is all good when you imagine yourself as a bohemian rooting against the world, when you convince yourself that’s only the proof you needed to know you are fighting well against a system of art that privileges banality and marketing over real artistic value and that, one day, all your struggles will be worth it.

Even Picasso was poor for a long time in Paris.

Damn, maybe to be in a situation like this in Paris would sound more romantic.

But the truth was: he never imagined to have to do it alone, that life would feel so overwhelming, that there wouldn’t be anything but extreme struggle, anger, loneliness and a terrible diet.

For a moment he wished to be a baby again, to be the bright boy he was and let mommy take care of his needs and his dirty shirt and empty stomach. He wished that maybe somebody noticed him before, that somebody saw his talent and helped him to pull it out instead of leaving him to do it on his own only to come late to every step.

And now it is too late, he is lost in the sea of terrible paid jobs and anguishing relationships, let’s not forget maybe he indeed had a receding hairline and he was doomed to get bold .

He squeezed his eyes as a soft sob took over his lip, hand running over his forehead as he pulled on his hair justifying his tears with some physical pain. He shook his head as he tried to gain back some composure, hand flung over to pick up his coffee mug and giving in a long gulp of the coffee, the same one he swore before to not touch again, only to almost choke on it, couching it out only to pick up the bottom hem of his shirt to clean his laptop screen.

He fucking hated to write on a computer, the old typewriters inspired him but that damn ink was too expensive now for his sore pockets.

He smirked to himself as he kept doing it, finding good excuses to call himself off any responsibility. But maybe Elke was right, well she surely was, she had two degrees, maybe he was really a lot cause. He frowned as he wiped slowly the screen with his already stained shirt, the wetness sticking then against his skin as soon as he let it go giving him another shiver.

He didn’t have even the strength to cry, he could only accept it was over.

The curse that he shouted out loud when he heard knocking at the door, smashing him out of his thought spiral, generated an immediate anger reaction from him.

“Fuck, shit, if it is the fucking neighbour, I swear I will kill her cat or that rat she has as cat, fucking hell”

He grumbled as he stood up moving across the table not caring about his state, he only wanted to crawl back into a ball and maybe nuzzle a bit somewhere.

When his death glare appeared after the door opened in a powerful swing his eyebrows lifted immediately finding you on the other side.

He blinked, one of those sleepy blinks where somebody closes his eyes and then opens them really wide to make sure it is not made up in their brain, that one.

His eyebrows furrowed as he stared at you 

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

“You should wash your mouth with holy water Sebastian” you said shaking your head raising your arms to show him some paper bags “I am bringing food and body shower”

He shook his head “Are you calling me stinky?”

“I am” You quickly replied moving past him into his place ignoring his groan.

He stood by the door slowly closing it, he was sure that old bitch was looking through her peephole, only then he stared at you try to make your way into the filthy kitchen. He was really embarrassed about his antics, but surely this time he exceeded some record.

“I am speechless Seb, I helped you with the moving and this place seems to have taken over you” you said as you knew he was in some rut when he kept such a long phone silence.

He was usually always texting, sending memes or one sentence texts.

You cared about him, deeply, you knew he was full of flaws and little quirks, but that’s what made him special. Nevertheless, you were worried about the state of the place, how it showed the way he let himself get dragged through the days. So he observed you, better to say, your back, the way you moved around opening the window to let fresh air inside, turning on a lamp to make some light that wasn’t just the blue one of the screen. Pulling out commodities and food from your magic bags like some sort of Mary Poppins of struggling writers. How you poured soap in the dirty load of dishes and pans, the way you marched securely to his desk to pick up that filthy mug and you frowned just sniffing at it.

“Is that poison?”

“Rat poison” he corrected you.

You shook your head as you cleaned a glass and filled it with water and among the groceries you pulled out a banana.

“Have this now, it will help” you said and he took the glass with one hand and the banana with the other like his brain was shut down.

He stared at you as you leaned your head slightly on side, he went through bad times after the break up but you had never seen him in such a helpless state.

He was chaotic but he always loved to keep up his appearance, to give that handsome and damned kind of vibe.

“Sebastian” you called him as his eyes spaced out and now where back on you “Are you alright?”

He observed you, he stared at your face like he was trying to recognise you, truth it was he kept pushing himself to say yes, say yes, say it is all good, make a joke, a remark, keep it up. You don’t need his burden, you don’t need to hate him like Elke and others do.

Just say yes.

“No” he said as his lips trembled and you watched his ironic mask fall right in front of you as he looked away hiding his tears, real tears, not the ones he can play out whenever he needs.

Just as quickly as you gave him the banana and the water you took them off his hands afraid he might hurt himself by dropping the glass in particular.

"Seb" you called his attention as he sobbed moving like a bird trying to hide his face against his own shoulder.

You took his now empty hands dragging him toward the couch and kicking off the pile of dirty clothes and discarded books on top of it to make him sit down with you.

"Talk to me"

He didn't, the man that was never out of words, even in the times he should have been, was now silent as a tombstone staring away from you as you gave a gentle squeeze to his hands. It pained you to see him in such a state.

So weak, so helpless like a lost child.

"I can't help you if you don't talk"

Sebastian shook his head still staring at the wall.

"You can't help me"

"Is it about writing? I can proof read you, it will be a moment"

He shook his head again making, hair bouncing from side to side.

"No, it is not important if I write or not"

You frowned at that comment.

"What the hell?" you just blurted out "Seb you're a talented writer, you're passionate, funny, witty, why shouldn't it be important?"

He looked up at you shaking his head "I can't write, I can't put together two sentences"

Your eyes travelled onto his side profile, truth to be told he looked worn out but he was still handsome like only Sebastian Zöllner could be. He had that chaotic charm, even with a wrinkled suit he was fearless, strong, poignant. You couldn't avoid him, he owned every place he stepped in and you could feel his gaze run through your bloodstream.

When he asks a question, he meant it, it was a test run into your bones and you loved every second of it.

His lips tightened as he diverted his gaze finally to you. You knew his relationship with Elke was important, he cared about others even if he didn't show it daily like most people do.

"Is it Elke?"

"No, she was just right"

"About what?"

He gulped, his throat dry as he pulled his bottom lip in his mouth grinding his teeth over it like playing something through that gesture.

"About me"

"Breakups are always shit, don't you even.."

"No Y/N" he interrupted you, he was serious, maybe his voice trembled but he wasn't lying or playing some role "I am really a lost cause, I mean look at his place"

His hand waved around the small flat like a drunk orchestra director.

"It is pure trash, I haven't finished unpacking, I didn't have food until you came, I am unable to look after myself, to look after the people that I care about. I worked so hard to be an artist and then I became a critic and now I am so knee deep into my own shit that I have more debts than entries, more failures than successes, more haters than friends"

He gulped down, the waterline of his eyes dangerously red and he sniffled up as he let out a little weak whisper "I just wish I could disappear"

"No"

It came out of you like a lighting bolt, it surged out of you before you could even elaborate. Like an order. A command.

"Seb, you're now in a rough patch of life, but you have always worked hard and well as a writer"

"I am a writer because I failed as an artist"

"You're a writer because you know of what you're talking about, because you're able to see the difference between marketing and passion, between hard work and laziness, because you respect that profession and it makes you the best critic"

"I just want to destroy them all because I am envious, Elke always said I am fuelled by my own envy”

"I have read pieces of yours only encouraging the rightful and bringing down the real frauds"

He shook his head as he was just fixating on the wrong, on the flaws, on the problems.

You huffed cupping his cheeks to force him to look at your eyes.

"Look at me" you said not admitting replies "you are talented in what you do, you are one of the best in your field and you're not on some big magazine only because they know they will have to put up with your shit: with the fact you always meet the people, you look at art pieces in presence, you touch them, you research the colours, you scrutinise everything to the bone"

He took your hands hating to be held like that but he squeezed them in his owns.

"And yes, you're allergic to ironing clothes and washing dishes is your personal nightmare, and yes, you give out many temper tantrums and have a terribly dark sense of humour, you are a failure at time and money management, you love filthy rich stuff and smoke like your life depends on it"

He stared at you, he listened quietly as you knew him from so long and many people, Elke included, wondered what you gained from helping him or just being around him that much. He often teased his ex about being jealous of you and she always said that it was like being jealous of a mortgage.

"So you agree?"

 "I agree to say you are flawed like all of us, that you are just the perfect balance to your writing, you're what you write. You're passionate, you give out the two hundred percent of what you can give, you are like this, you go all-in in everything you do, there's no compromise, no mid way, no foreseeable change of direction, you speed up into the darkness and don't look back. You are bold, you take risks, you let people hate you because you do not compromise with who is son of who or who is the director of what gallery, you judge people over their real qualities. Because you talk to them in their face, because you don't hide that yes, you want to be great, because you're handsome and charming and smart, nobody can outsmart you in your field, not even that idiot you hate that much"

"Golo Fucking Moser" he murmured

"Golo Fucking Moser" you repeated with a chuckle "you don't have anything to envy to him beside the bruises he probably has on his knees for bending down to anyone"

He chuckled at that comment.

"And also, you're more attractive, that pisses off Seb, it is unfair to the poor man”

He leaned his head on side as you wouldn't normally shower him in compliments, he had enough ego for that, but you had never seen him like this and you wished to never see him again in such a state.

"You find me attractive?"

"Well for sure you're an eye candy" you joked

"I mean it"

You rolled your eyes blushing a bit and huffing a chuckle "I do, alight? It is universal knowledge"

He looked at you as he still held your hands in his, his thumbs making soft shapes over the back of your hand.

"That I am attractive or that you find me attractive?"

You groaned looking away with an embarrassed giggle “okay, okay, I see you're back in yourself, let's eat now"

You moved to stand up but he didn't do the same remaining sat in his spot.

"Tell me"

"I pumped your self esteem enough, now let me go"

He chuckled softly, he never really thought you'd be interested. He usually shows off so many bad traits that he has to tone himself down and really try hard to attract someone. It is all an effort on his part to appear better or at least less quirky.

And then now look at you, appreciating even his shit show.

"Y/N" he murmured giving you a soft squeeze. You kept silent not daring now to meet his gaze. He bowed his head trying to reach for your eyes with his gaze and he looked up at you, a smile that wasn't provocative over his lips.

You pulled back yanking your wrists off his grip to move straight into the kitchen corner.

You begun pulling ut some fresh vegetables and bread, you also got some cheese knowing he loves it, wanting him to have a good dinner.

He followed you almost immediately and soon you found his arms grasping you once more in a hug, his chest pressed against your back, his forehead on your shoulder.

"Seb, you..."

"I know, I stink, just give me a moment" he said and you obliged him gently caressing his arms around you.

You hated to be in the friend zone, but you wouldn't be able to survive to lose him forever or to have him joke about it.

Now he was quiet, tender like a hurt pup.

"Thank you, you know you can count on me too, right? For anything” he said and you chuckled softly “I know, you’re my favourite avenger”

He nodded brushing his crisp beard against your cheek and after few minutes stuck in that hug he dropped a kiss on your neck "love you”

He pulled back giving you a smile as he picked the shower gel you left on the counter bringing it with himself to the bathroom with a soft hum.

You smiled a bit bitterly to yourself as you guessed it was meant in a friendly way, but today it was alright. You could endure it. Also that kiss, he always did it when he was drunk, at parties or in the taxi back home after a viewing. It was his cuddly way to say things without saying them, without rambling, and you appreciated that silent language. 

Maybe now he was drunk over his own feelings.

Just like you.

Tagged @cazzyimagines @lieutenantn @handmaiden-of-mischief @thesunflowersutra @zemomybeloved @fictionlandslanddreams @charistory @greeneyedblondie44 @apparrio @hb8301 @whatawildone @rhymerhymerhyme  @thehuiabird @lilith-blackrose @unbeatablecurlgirl @obsidianlaszlo @alindeluce @zemosimp05 @baronesszemo-blackwood @nocapesdahling @everythingbeginsineternity-blog @archangelproperty