#never have i ever cared about colors THIS MUCH i’m so serious i KNOW THIS WON’T DO WELL BUT IF YOU SEE THIS FEEL MY SUFFERING

[willthespy]

Yes, I use solangelo for all my little drawing experiments. What about it?

EDIT: this looks like the fucking propaganda posters that they throw at you in history class... i might have accidentally created solangelo propaganda, i fear

[peachesofteal]

Cool Girl

Ghoap x female reader / 18+ / previous

The sunrise stabs under your eyelids with malicious intent.

You don’t have much of a hangover, but your face is still puffy, under eyes swollen. You’ve been crying all night, and it’s painfully obvious.

Not to mention the lack of sleep. The vomit induced by your overwhelming anxiety, the bile still scorching your throat. You haven’t slept more than an hour. You look like the walking dead.

You tried to have a serious talk with yourself around two o’clock in the morning. You told- no you promised- yourself you’d leave well enough alone. You’d put them out of your mind. You’d move on.

They never wanted you. So why are you so insulted that they did exactly what they said they would? You weren’t theirs. You’d never be theirs.

Good enough to keep in bed. Good enough to keep out of sight. But not someone they’d consider theirs.

You’re no one’s. You’re just… yours.

Which is fine. It’s more than fine. You’re cool. You don’t need them, or anyone.

Your hand won’t stop shaking though. It shakes when you turn on the water for the shower, shakes as you try to shave. It shakes through your first cup of tea and then your second, shakes when you curl up the couch and huddle under your blankets, staring blankly at reruns of some laugh tracked sitcom. It’s because you haven’t slept or you’re hungover or something-

And it only stops when your doorbell rings.

You slam your eyes shut. You’re not expecting anyone, and that alone makes you feel like there’s probably someone on the other side of the door that you decidedly do not want to see.

The glance through your peephole confirms your suspicions.

It’s Johnny. He’s standing squarely in front of your door, bouquet of flowers in his hand.

Your head starts to pound, and he knocks on the door.

“I know ye’re home, bonnie. I saw yer car in the garage.” You’re frozen on the other side, separated by a piece of metal and wood that suddenly feels less substantial than it ever has before.

When the lock doesn’t click, he knocks again. “‘m not leavin’ until I see ye.” You groan.

“Stalking me now?” You spit when you open the door and he grins sheepishly.

“Naw...” He doesn’t elaborate and you stand in the frame of the door, trying to block him from peering over you- though it’s no use. You watch his critical gaze take inventory of what he can in your flat, and then he returns his attention to you, holding out the flowers.

They’re tulips. Maybe twenty, twenty five stems, all in a spectacle of color. They’re beautiful, and your favorite.

It surprises you. That they even know that about you. That they would remember a comment you must have made in passing.

It gives you pause. It’s confusing.

“Got these for ye.” He’s… such a boy. A grown man, a decorated military man, a strong man but still… such a boy. He’s never looked more like a boy than he does now, eyes wide and nervous, shifting his weight from leg to leg. He blinks, eyelashes feathery and dark, and you’re left to wonder if he gets it from his mom or his dad. Does he have sisters? Brothers? Nieces or nephews? You ached for those pieces of them, before.

Now, the lingering questions fill you with embarrassment.

He steps forward, and you shrink back. His gaze flickers, and then clears, holding the overflowing bundle of colors towards you.

“Thanks.” You say stiffly, careful to avoid his fingers when you pull it free.

“Can I come in?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” He chews on his lip.

“Ye look tired, love. Did ye get any sleep?” You sniff, hand resting on your hip.

“I’m fine.”

“Ye dinnae look fine.”

“Why are you here?” You’re cracking with exasperation, legs going weak. You’re not strong enough to stand here and survive an onslaught.

“Need to talk with ye, like we said last night.”

“There’s nothing to talk about, like I said last night.” You parrot with a irritated exhale.

“Ye know that’s jus’ not true. We need to talk about what ye saw, what ye think ye saw-“

“What did I see? Since apparently you know what I’m thinking now.” You’re too tired for this. You don’t want to do this. You want to crawl back into bed and hide under your blankets.

“Ye think ye saw us with another woman, or on a date, but-“

“I saw your hands on another woman. I saw her smiling at you like-“ you shake your head. “It doesn’t matter what I saw,” he swallows, mouth pressing into an uncomfortable line, “I always knew this wasn’t real, that it didn’t mean anything but-“

“Ye agreed. Ye always said ye didnae want a relationship.” He reminds you sharply, and you nearly swallow your tongue.

“Yeah, I didn’t, so.” The lie is foul on your tongue, rancid and spoiled, but you give it life regardless. Fuck them. You’re fine.

“But yer mad ye saw us with another woman.” He raises an eyebrow, and you never wanted to punch someone so badly.

But instead of a rising tide of anger, you get an overwhelming wave of despair, and tears prick at the corner of your eyes.

“Ah, no, love. Please, please dinnae cry. ‘m sorry, this is such a mess. We never meant for any of this.” Your hand starts shaking again, trembling against the plastic wrapped around the stems, and Johnny’s expression changes from sad to worried. “What’s this?” He tries to reach, fingers grazing the back of your arm.

“N-nothing, I’m just tired.”

“Love-“

“Just… go away.” Your patience snaps, shatters, and his face falls. It almost makes your feel bad.

Almost.

[seungkw1]

mine — jww

♡ pairing: boyfriend!wonwoo x afab!reader ♡ theme: fluff, smut [18+ mdni], non-idol au ♡ wc: 2.6k ♡ warnings: swearing, size kink, oral (f. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), unprotected piv sex (stay safe y’all), creampie, dacryphilia, petnames (m. & f. receiving - babe, baby), reader is gender neutral but referred to as girlfriend once, gr8 aftercare ofc ♡ a/n: this is a part two to so fucking pretty but you don’t have to read that one first :)

‧₊˚✩彡 moodboard by @myhimbomingi ‧₊˚✩彡

You wouldn’t consider yourself a very romantic person, but your boyfriend’s Valentine’s Day surprise might just change your mind about that.

You’ve never given a single shit about Valentine’s Day. It’s not so much that you hate it or anything, but rather indifference - you simply couldn’t care less. Just another capitalistic holiday for companies to profit off of, right? Plus, red and pink is simply a godawful color combination. So yeah, you’ve never given a shit. 

That is - until you met Wonwoo. 

You’ve dated here and there over the years, but nothing ever too serious - all of your partners either turned out to be lousy or the relationships were just bland. So, all of them ended, and you were never too upset about it. 

But with Wonwoo, everything is different. You’ve only been dating for three months, but your relationship is the complete opposite of lousy or bland. Wonwoo is warm and loving - squeezing you in his arms and giving you kisses every chance he gets. He is caring and kind - listening to you talk no matter whether you needed to vent or just wanted to infodump about your interests. He is sweet and gentle - leaving you cute notes and surprising you with little gifts just because.

He is also incredibly fucking hot, and an absolute god in the bedroom.

You fucked him on the first date, which is very unlike you, but your chemistry was undeniable and it just happened naturally. That was the best sex you’ve ever had in your life - and every time since then has also been the best sex you’ve ever had in your life. You’d be an absolute fool not to stick around.

And so, Wonwoo became your boyfriend. You’ve always found that term to be a bit juvenile, so historically you’ve just referred to your significant other as your partner. But every time you think about Wonwoo you feel the urge to giggle and kick your feet in the air, so the term boyfriend simply feels right. You’re practically head over heels for the man. 

“Ooooo you’re so in love with him,” your best friend teased as you were gushing about your boyfriend for the nth time. 

“Oh shut up,” you rolled your eyes as you replied. Maybe you’re a bit jaded from your mediocre past relationships, but the phrase in love is not one you throw around lightly. 

But deep down, you know it’s true. You’re in love with Wonwoo.

But you’re not ready to admit that to anybody. So you keep it to yourself. You’ll cross that bridge when you get there.

That day arrives much sooner than you anticipate.

—

February rolls around. It’s the dead of winter, arguably the most boring time of year. Your mind is preoccupied with the job interview you have coming up, and you’ve been a bit stressed about it. Wonwoo has been nothing but supportive and helpful - giving you advice, offering to help you practice, cleaning your apartment for you of his own free will - and you are more than grateful to have him around. 

One particularly cold Saturday morning, you wake up to a text from Wonwoo. 

Good morning beautiful! Text me when you’re awake 😊

You smile sleepily as you reply. 

Good morning babe 💖 I’m awake!

The chat bubble pops up as he begins to reply immediately. 

Great! Can you be ready by 11am? I have a surprise for you 😁

A surprise?

Y/N: Oooh, what kind of surprise? WW: It’s a secret 😉 Y/N: Hmm 🤔 Okay... What should I wear though?  WW: Wear whatever you want, you look cute in everything! Y/N: Hehe okayyyy WW: Perfect, I’ll pick you up at 11! See you soon 😊

You hop out of bed and start to get ready, practically dancing around your apartment. You open your closet and stare at your clothes, trying to decide what to wear - which proves to be hard when you don’t know where you’re going. You end up grabbing the cozy light blue sweater Wonwoo complimented you on when you wore it a couple weeks ago, and a cute pair of jeans to match. You’re putting on your heeled boots when you hear the knockknockknock of somebody at the door. You open the door to see your boyfriend, looking incredibly handsome in his dark coat and black-rimmed glasses. He extends to you a bouquet of a dozen red roses.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he says with a soft smile. 

As you take the bouquet Wonwoo pulls you in for a kiss, wrapping his arms around your waist. As your lips part you look at him, an inquisitive look on your face.

“But it’s not Valentine’s Day yet,” you tell him.

“I know,” he replies as he gives you a little kiss on your nose. “But I couldn’t wait.”

You feel a huge smile color your face. 

“So, where are we going?” 

—

The waitress sets a massive plate of the fanciest waffles you’ve ever seen in front of you. You start to salivate at the sight of the fresh berries and cream heaping on top.

A few weeks ago you had casually mentioned the bougie brunch place you’ve always wanted to try, but it was expensive and the wait was always way too long. Turns out Wonwoo immediately called and made a reservation for you two.

You go to dig into your waffles when you notice your boyfriend holding his phone up, taking photos of you.

“Hey! Stop that,” you say as you playfully try to grab his phone.

“What?” he asks innocently. “You just look so pretty.”

He looks at you adoringly. You pout, feigning annoyance, and he snaps another picture - making you laugh. There’s no way you can be mad at him, he’s simply too sweet.

After the decadent meal Wonwoo walks you back to his car, holding your hand, and insists upon opening the car door for you - even helping you take off your coat. It’s silly, but it still makes you feel warm and fuzzy.

Wonwoo starts driving, but in the opposite direction of your home.

“Where are we going now?” you inquire.

“Remember how you said you’ve never been ice skating?”

“Oh god,” you groan. “Can’t wait to make a complete fool of myself.”

“You won’t,” he insists. “You can hold onto me.”

“But you’ve never been ice skating either,” you point out. “How do you know you’re not gonna fall too?”

Wonwoo smiles. “Then we’ll fall together.”

You scoff playfully, but a grin also appears on your face.

Ice skating ends up being a disaster. Neither one of you can stop falling (it doesn’t help that you refuse to stop holding hands, so when one of you falls both of you go down), but you also can’t stop laughing - to the point where your cheeks hurt from smiling so much. You haven’t had fun like this in ages.

You look over at your boyfriend. He is extraordinarily cute right now, his cheeks rosy from the cold air. Wonwoo catches you looking at him and leans over to plant a kiss on your cheek - he then immediately runs into the wall. You let out a giggle - he looks back at you sheepishly.

“Maybe you should pay attention to where you’re going,” you tease as you nudge him with your elbow.

“Hard to do so when my beautiful girlfriend is right next to me, distracting me.” His tone mirrors your playfulness, but the way he’s looking at you - you can tell he means it.

You roll your eyes, but a huge smile lights up your face as you wrap your arm around his, squeezing him tightly. 

On the drive back Wonwoo suggests you go to his place, to which you happily agree. Before you enter, he tells you to close your eyes.

“No peeking!” he insists.

“I won’t!” you swear, placing your hands over your eyes. 

You walk through the front door and wait in the entryway, resisting peeking as promised. You hear Wonwoo fiddling with things for a minute, and then you hear the opening notes of your favorite album - the sound emanating from his record player.

“Okay, you can look now,” he tells you as he once again is standing right next to you. You remove your hands, opening your eyes to the sight of Wonwoo’s dim apartment - illuminated only by the dozen of freshly-lit candles placed around the living room. In his hands are the biggest box of chocolates you’ve ever seen, and a cute fuzzy teddy bear that’s holding a heart with Be mine embroidered on it.

“Oh my god, you really went all out,” you remark, smiling from ear to ear as your heart practically flutters in your chest.

“Only the best for you, babe.”

He sets down the chocolates and the bear, stopping to help you out of your coat before drawing you into his embrace, kissing you softly and slowly. He then takes your hands in his, pulling you toward the hallway.

“There’s one more surprise,” he tells you.

Before you can ask him what more he could possibly surprise you with, you see the trail of rose petals down the hallway, leading into his bedroom.

“You did NOT,” you exclaim as you laugh, truly bewildered at the sight of it.

You follow the trail as he pulls you into his room, where even more petals lay on the bed, perfectly forming the shape of a heart.

“It’s so beautiful I almost don’t want to ruin it,” you proclaim.

Wonwoo raises his eyebrow at you.

“Hey, I said almost.”

Without a word he smiles, pulling you in so he can grab the hem of your sweater, gently pulling it over your head to reveal the lacy bra you had chosen to wear today.

“So pretty,” he remarks as he runs his hands over your breasts, before reaching around your back to undo the clasp. “But even prettier without.”

He tosses the bra aside, taking your tits in his hands. You begin to undo his shirt buttons, revealing his incredibly toned body that still turns you on so much every time you see it. His shirt gone, you move to his belt. You unbuckle it and pull it off, throwing it to the floor as you take the bulge in his pants in your palm. He lets out a soft groan as you caress him, his erection quickly growing. You go to unfasten his pants, the taut fabric giving way as you undo the zipper, his cock now bulging through his underwear, begging to escape. 

Wonwoo suddenly grabs you by the hips, twirling you around and pushing you onto the bed. 

“Get comfy, babe.”

As you recline into the soft pillows, he removes his pants and then begins to take off yours, pulling them off of you in one go. He gently pushes your inner thighs open and situates himself right in between your legs, the only barrier between his face and your cunt being the thin lacy underwear that do nothing to hide how wet you are right now. He softly kisses your clit a few times, then licks a stripe over the sheer fabric. You run your hand through his hair as he starts kissing your clit again, this time more intensely. You begin to squirm slightly against his face - silently begging for more. Wonwoo gazes up at you, giving you a little smirk as his lips hover right above you - so close that you feel breath against your core.

“Stop teasing meeee,” you whine.

You feel his finger slide under the fabric, pulling it aside to reveal your soaked center. You feel the sharpness of the cool air hitting you, followed by the warmth of Wonwoo’s mouth against your cunt. You mewl softly as his tongue traces against your folds, lapping up your juices but only making you wetter in the process. You continue to stroke his hair as he goes down on you, enjoying the view. You love the way his nose brushes against your clit as he alternates between sucking on the bud and fucking you with his tongue. 

Eventually you feel his fingers delicately graze your entrance - he inserts only one finger at first, but it still feels so good. 

“More,” you beg. “Please.”

Wonwoo slides a second finger into your cunt. He knows how to curve them perfectly, hitting you in just the right spot to drive you insane. He fucks you as he continues licking your clit - you become a moaning mess as your orgasm draws closer and closer. Your hips begin to buck involuntarily, grinding your cunt against his face - overwhelmed with pleasure. Wonwoo wraps his arms around your thighs, holding you down against the bed as he devours you. 

“Fuck, baby - I’m cumming,” you cry out. Your legs shake as the incredible sensation takes over your entire body, the white-hot flashes of pleasure flowing through you as your pussy throbs against your boyfriend’s tongue. 

As you come down, Wonwoo gives you soft little kitten licks. You sink into the pillows, your whole body relaxed in bliss. He kisses your stomach before crawling up, his body weight laying against you cozily as he presses his nose against yours. He kisses you, his lips and chin covered in your juices. You begin to make out, his tongue moving against yours, his bulge pressing against your core. You reach down, slipping your hand through the band of his underwear, and pull his cock out. You’ve fucked your boyfriend countless times by now, but every time you’re still in awe of his size. You wrap your hand around his thickness and stroke him a few times, causing precum to leak out. You guide his tip to your entrance - you moan as it easily slips in, his size stretching you out so perfectly. He slides his entire length into you, letting out a groan as he bottoms out. 

“Your pussy’s so perfect for me, babe,” he says in a low voice. He begins to fuck you, slowly pushing his cock in and out, letting your walls adjust to his size. 

“So good baby, fuck,” he says, practically growling. “Your pussy’s all mine.”

You moan as he picks up speed, thrusting his huge cock into you further and further. His lips meet yours again - your mouths and tongues dancing against each other as he fucks you, more passionately than ever before. 

“All mine, you’re all mine.”

“Oh my god,” you cry, tears forming in your eyes from the intense pleasure. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

“I’m close baby - wanna cum in you,” he groans. 

“Please,” you beg. 

Wonwoo’s rhythm picks up speed - tears are fully running down your face as you let out cries of pleasure. You feel his cock pulsate against your walls as he releases, groaning as he thrusts into you, filling you up with his cum. 

As he comes down from his high, his warm body melts into yours - he’s squishing you, but you’ve never been more comfortable. His cock still inside you, he plays with your hair as he kisses you slowly. 

You lay there together for a while. Eventually, Wonwoo slowly pulls out of you, giving you a kiss on the cheek before he gets up to grab a warm towel. After he cleans you up he plops back into bed, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you in, squeezing you so tightly it makes you giggle. 

You draw your head back just enough so you can look your boyfriend in the eyes. He’s so hot, so cute, gazing at you so lovingly - you truly don’t think you’ve ever been happier than you are in this moment. 

“I love you,” you tell him - for the first time. 

You didn’t plan on saying it, it just came out naturally. Because it’s true - you love him, more than you’ve ever loved anyone. 

Wonwoo smiles, caressing you softly as he holds you warmly against him. 

“I love you too.”

[end] 

[fleming-o]

Embarrassing, right? - Jessie Fleming X Reader

jessie catches you doing a hobby you dont normally share..

request

You sat on the couch, controller in hand, completely lost in your game. It was a quiet afternoon—Jessie was still at training, or so you thought. The familiar sounds of the game filled the room, and for a while, you forgot everything else. This was your way to decompress after a long day, something you never really shared with anyone.

But then the front door clicked open.

Your heart dropped as you froze, hearing Jessie’s footsteps enter the apartment. You quickly fumbled for the remote, your fingers hitting pause just as she walked into the living room. But the screen was still lit up, the colorful game world paused mid-action.

“Hey,” she said, sounding surprised to see you. “I didn’t know you’d be home so early.”

“I could say the same,” you replied quickly, feeling the warmth rise to your face. You tried to play it cool, but Jessie’s gaze had already flicked to the TV.

“What’s this?” she asked, a curious smile tugging at her lips as she sat down next to you. She wasn’t judging you—at least, she didn’t look like she was—but your stomach twisted anyway.

“Uh, it’s just a game I play sometimes,” you mumbled, awkwardly shifting the controller in your lap. You couldn’t meet her eyes. “It’s nothing special.”

Jessie tilted her head, watching you more closely now. “Why didn’t you ever tell me you were into gaming?”

You shrugged, trying to keep it casual even though your nerves were buzzing. “I don’t know. It’s just something small. You’ve got all these important things going on, like soccer and everything, and I guess I didn’t think this mattered much.”

She was quiet for a moment, processing your words, before leaning back against the couch. “You don’t think it matters?”

“Not really,” you said, biting your lip. “I mean, it’s just for fun. It’s not serious like your training or matches.”

Jessie’s eyebrows furrowed, and she turned fully toward you, her expression soft. “But fun matters. Relaxing matters. Why wouldn’t this be important if it’s something you enjoy?”

You blinked, caught off guard by how genuine she sounded. “I don’t know… I just thought you’d think it’s kind of childish. Or that it’s not worth talking about.”

Jessie’s eyes widened slightly, like the thought had never crossed her mind. “Why would I ever think that?” she asked softly. She reached out and gently took the controller from your hands, studying it. “Just because I’m busy with soccer doesn’t mean I don’t care about the things you like.”

You felt a lump in your throat as you finally met her gaze. “I guess I didn’t want to look… silly.”

Her face softened even more, and she set the controller down before pulling you closer. “You never look silly to me,” she said quietly. “I love hearing about what makes you happy. If this is something you enjoy, I want to know about it.”

You blinked back the slight sting of tears, suddenly feeling exposed in a way you hadn’t expected. You hadn’t realized how much you’d been holding back, keeping this small part of yourself hidden because you thought it didn’t matter. But Jessie’s words made it clear that it did—at least to her.

“Really?” you asked, your voice a little shaky.

Jessie nodded, her thumb gently rubbing the back of your hand. “Of course. You don’t have to hide this stuff from me. I love that there’s more to you than I even knew.”

You smiled a little, the tension in your chest loosening. “I guess I just didn’t want you to think less of me.”

Jessie frowned lightly. “I could never think less of you. If anything, this makes me love you more. It shows me a different side of you. I want to know all of you, even the parts you think are small.”

Her words hit you harder than you expected, and suddenly you felt silly for keeping this hidden for so long. “Okay,” you whispered, leaning into her. “I’ll try to share more. No more hiding.”

Jessie smiled warmly, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “Good. Now, show me how to play this thing.”

You laughed, the weight of the moment lifting as you handed her the controller. “Alright, but don’t say I didn’t warn you—it’s not as easy as it looks.”

She grinned, settling into the couch beside you as you walked her through the game. And as she fumbled her way through the controls, laughing at her own mistakes, you realized just how much lighter you felt. Sharing this part of yourself with her wasn’t so scary after all. In fact, it felt good.

Really good.

[forever-rogue]

hi my lover,

i have a joel request🤭

something angsty and evil. like joel says the most awful thing to reader about her being delusional that he could ever love her or something. (cause they haven’t defined their relationship) and then reader writes a note and leaves in the middle of the night and ellie finds it and yells at joel. with a fluffy ending cause i like to cry then happy cry.

ok bye ily😏

AN | It hurts a little but there’s a fluffy ending! 🥰 

Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language

Word Count | 3.4k

Masterlist | Joel, Main

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Are you serious?” The expression on his face was enough to send chills down your spine. But these were all the wrong sorts of chills, “you’re not that dumb, are you?”

“I…” you’d never heard him speak like that before, especially not to you. Your lip trembled with effort as you tried not to cry, tears threatening to well up and roll down your cheeks, “I don’t….”

“What?” he mocked, arms crossing over his chest and a hard expression on his face, “can’t even put a sentence together?” 

You kept your sniffles down, but that didn’t keep from your voice trembling and sounding so small, “J-Joel, why are you doing this?”

“Let me make this clear,” he leaned in and gestured between the two of you, “we - you and I - are nothing. I don’t care about you, okay? I’m definitely not in love with you, little girl. So get that straight. You are nothing to me.”

You weren’t able to hold back your tears anymore, and felt them dip down your cheeks, warm and salty. You recoiled from him, almost as though he’d hit you. He might as well have. It would have hurt less than this. Brushing away your tears, starting to back away; this wasn’t your Joel, you didn’t know this Joel at all.

“I’m sorry,” you managed to squeak out before just turning on your heel and running away. You didn’t even know where you were heading to, you just knew that you had to get away from him. You couldn’t bear to look at him for a moment longer. 

Whatever had happened to Joel Miller was nothing you wanted a part of.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You spent the latter part of the day locked in your room and pacing around, nervous and worried that he might come back and find you for some reason. You know, kick while you’re already down. There had been so much malice in his words that they kept ringing in your head all day. You had no clue what had suddenly come over him to cause him to act this way. 

But perhaps, this had always been him and he was just now showing you his true colors. And yet…no. You knew deep down that this wasn’t him. But it still felt heartbreaking. You had no idea how you were supposed to face him again. You weren’t sure if you wanted to face him. 

Eventually, after a lot of contemplation and mulling over your options, you decided you knew what you were going to do. 

You hadn’t come to Jackson with much, and packing up your singular bag hadn’t taken a long time. It felt weird to see your entire life, what everything had amounted to, shoved into one bag. 

Despite your desire to just leave, you knew that you couldn’t entirely leave without saying anything. You scribbled down a quick note and left it on the kitchen table deciding that it would suffice. 

It was late, and Joel and Ellie were sleeping. At least they appeared to be; the house was dead silent and the lights in their bedrooms appeared to be off. You hesitated in front of Ellie’s door, thinking about seeing if she was up so you could give her a proper goodbye, but you couldn’t bring yourself to knock. The girl needed rest and you didn’t want to bother her with something that felt so trivial.

Instead you put your hand on her door before leaving in silence. You hoped that one day you would be able to see her again. 

After ensuring you had everything, you walked to the front door and stepped out into the quiet, still evening. On to the next, you figured, on to something that you knew would never match what you had with Joel and Ellie.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Joel could sense that something was off as soon as he woke up the next morning. Things felt different…heavy. He knew that he did not like it. 

When he walked into the kitchen, he found Ellie sitting at the table, the expression on her face a mixture of shock, sadness, and anger. Once she heard him, she looked up and glared daggers at him.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” she stood up from the table, the legs of the chair scraping loudly against the wooden floor. Joel’s eyebrows raised as he shrugged at her. He had no clue what was going on - okay…maybe had some clue. But still, he wasn’t expecting her to come up to him and slam a note against his chest, “how can you be so stupid! You ruined everything!”

“What are you talking about?” He looked at her with surprised eyes and shook his head. He took the note and unfolded it gingerly.

“Read the note,” she shoved him lightly, “and figure it out. Idiot.”

She pushed past him and ran up the stairs, slamming her shut so harshly that some of the frames on the wall rattled. He flinched at the sound but finished unfolding the note and quickly reading it. 

By the time he reached the end, he wasn't sure if was mad at you or angry with himself. The latter more than anything else. He knew what he did, what he had said wasn't right, but he - in his own weird, flawed way - thought that pushing you away was the best thing to do. He just never thought it would affect you this much. 

He accepted that you were going to be mad at him, he deserved it at the very least, but to have you this heartbroken was devastating. You really did love him. You'd told him as much but he'd never allowed him to believe it.

And now you were gone. Gone like a thief in the night. 

"Fuck," he held the note to his chest before sighing shakily, trying to control the trembling in his body, "fuck."

But he already knew what he had to do. 

He ran up the stairs and threw open Ellie's door without even bothering to knock. She looked at him in confusion but only raised her eyes. 

"I'm going," he was breathless and mentally mapping out everything he needed to pack before he left. Things be damned, he figured, as long as he had some sort of weapon it would be okay. He could handle hunger or cold, pretty much anything, except the idea of you being gone.

"What?" But she was already jumping off the bed and looking for her backpack.

"For her," he answered despite not having too, "you're not coming, Ellie. I don't need you to get hurt too. I can handle it. But I fucked up."

"Joel," he wouldn't have minded her going, but he also wanted to keep her safe. But she was like him, stubborn and iron willed.

"Ten minutes," he answered in reply, "don't want to lose more time."

You'd left in the night while he had been sleeping. And it was only about nine in the morning now, piecing it together Joel realized you couldn't have had more than about an eight hour head start. They could cover ground easily and catch up. Especially if you hadn't taken a horse which, if you were trying to be discreet you wouldn't have. 

"Let's go," Ellie swung her backpack over her shoulder and opened the door, "no time to waste."

He grabbed his own backpack and nodded gruffly. He might have royally fucked up, but he was going to do everything in his power to fix it. 

Even if you hated him forever, he wanted to make sure you were safe. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You should have thought this through a little more. But in the middle of the night and with a broken heart, people didn't generally make smart decisions. It was you, you were people.

And you were currently freezing and trying to stop yourself from shivering. You'd only grabbed your light winter jacket and it had started snowing. Of course it did.

You also hadn't bothered to take a horse, or food, or anything really. All you'd taken with you were a few weapons, a few snack bars and the clothes on your back. Yeah. You hadn't really thought any of this out. Smart was not something you'd use to describe yourself at that moment.

And you were growing tired. You'd been walking for hours and your feet were sore and you really just wanted a rest. You were fairly sure that nothing would happen to you on the path you were taking, but the risk wasn't worth it. You just had to push through and go a few more hours before you'd be near civilization - or rather civilization adjacent - again. Then you could rest.

But your body had other ideas, and after another hour or so, you couldn’t handle it anymore. You were getting a stitch in your side, and your legs felt like jelly; you had to rest for a little while if you were going to keep going. 

Luckily, there was a thicket of trees along your path that you could use for cover. You threw your bag down and flopped down with a heavy sigh. The ground was cold; it made you shiver. Your jeans weren’t enough to fight off the chill and you were shaking as you leaned against the tree to try and get some rest. Just an hour or two was all you would need before you could keep going. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

An hour turned out to be…longer. You weren’t even necessarily sure how long it was, because when you woke up, it was with a start and a scream. You felt a hand on your shoulder, shaking you gently. Your natural instinct was to fight off whoever it was and to defend yourself; Joel had taught you that much. 

“Stop,” you were blindly flailing around and trying to get yourself free but the voice sounded familiar, “stop. It’s me - it’s me!”

You stopped suddenly and looked up to see who was there; when you realized it was him, you panicked all over again. Shaking your head, you tried crawling away, wanting to get as much distance between yourselves as possible. You can’t believe that he had found you, but then again, you really shouldn’t have been surprised. You were just more surprised that he bothered to come and find you. Part of you had never expected to see him again. 

“No,” you looked at him with wide eyes and he hated the thought that he had done this to you. He was the reason that you had done this to yourself, “please, just leave me alone.”

“Baby-”

“Don’t you dare call me that,” alright, you’d quickly gone from worried and upset to mad. He really had the audacity to call you that? The man had some nerve, “just leave me alone.” 

“Listen,” he crouched down so he was eye level with you, “you shouldn’t be out here. You’re going to freeze.”

“I’m fine,” you lied, trying to hold back your shivers. You knew he was right, “just leave me alone.”

“Please, just-”

“No,” you hissed, “why are you even here? I thought you never wanted to see me again. You made that very clear.”

“Listen, I know I fucked up,” he pinched his brow and sighed heavily; he was only mad at himself, “but can you please just come with me right now? You need to get somewhere warm.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” almost as if your body wanted to betray you, a shiver ran down your spine and you trembled, “just go.”

“I’m not leaving without you,” he insisted, “you want to stay here? I’ll stay here too. But at least take my jacket-"

"Why are you here, Joel?" your eyes narrowed as you refused to take the jacket he was holding out to you, "why?"

"Can we do this later? Once we're back home," he really wasn't getting this. He was so smart most of the time but right now he was just…not quite comprehending.

"You don't get it," you shook your head incredulously, "there is no home. I'm not going back."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm leaving," you clambered back to your feet, shaky and painfully, "I'm not going back with you. Why would I? There's no place for me there."

"Oh?" He learned your stubbornness and tenacity but right now he wished you'd just listen to him. Not that he deserved that much, but fuck. He just wanted you home, "and just where are you gonna go, huh?"

"Riviera," you waved him off as you started back towards the street, "and if that doesn't work out then I'll figure it out."

"That's another six hours away on horse," he sighed as he followed after you, "you'll never make it on foot."

"Why do you suddenly care?" you threw out your arms. You could see the horses and Ellie a short distance back. Your heart ached when you realized how much you'd miss her. And him, "I am nothing to you. You made that abundantly clear."

"I wasn't…fuck, I lied," he finally admitted it, his eyes finding yours, "I didn't mean it any of it."

"Then you shouldn't have said it," you threw back at him, "why did you say it?"

When he didn't say anything in response, you rolled your eyes and turned around, keeping your gaze on the horizon. He was wrong; you'd make it just to prove him wrong.

"Come back for Ellie," oh. He knew how to get to you, "please. She needs you. If nothing else, do it for her."

You stiffened, sore and tired and hungry and already missing her. Maybe you could go back just for a little while just for her…

"Fine," your voice was small as you turned around and pushed past him, "for her."

He closed his eyes and let out a long, relieved sigh. As long as he knew you were safe, that was all that mattered.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It had been a few weeks since you'd come back. For Ellie. And nothing more. You hadn't said more than a few words to Joel, despite living in the same house. And despite his best efforts. He kept trying to talk to you but you weren't having it. You weren't ready yet, and to be honest, you weren't quite sure if you would ever be.

But there came a time when Joel couldn't take it anymore. If you were going to be mad and angry he wanted you to get it all out and be mad. He just couldn't handle the silence; it was brutal.

He caught you when you were in the kitchen and stood in the doorway, blocking your way out. You hadn't heard him at first but you could sense his presence, "hey."

You remained silent and kept drying the dishes. He came closer and his heart broke at how you recoiled from him, "don't." 

"Can you just - we need to talk," he sighed gruffly, leaning against the counter. You tossed the towel down and shrugged your shoulders, "five minutes. Please." 

"Why?" You asked, but when you didn't immediately run away he relaxed slightly, "I don't see what there could possibly be to talk about."

 "Don't do that," he insisted softly, "you know there is plenty to talk about."

"I don't have anything to say to you," you moved to the opposite counter and mirrored his position, "I didn't think you'd have anything to say either. You made that very clear."

"I'm sorry," despite wanting to look away, you caught his eye. You almost wanted to see the lie written all over his face; but you couldn't find it, "I…I fucked up."

“Yeah,” you nodded in agreement, sighing softly, “you did. You really hurt me, Joel. It didn’t have to go that far, you didn’t have to be so…cruel. I just don’t get how you didn’t know how much I cared for you. You had to know, right? If you didn’t want me or didn’t want things to get as far as they did, you should have said so.”

“I knew,” he agreed, “I always knew.”

“Then why didn’t you stop it?” you already felt tears welling up in your eyes. You looked away and blinked rapidly to try and prevent them from spilling over, “why didn’t you just say something?”

“I didn’t want to-”

“Why not?!” you groaned, “it could have been so much easier. We wouldn’t be here right now!”

“I didn’t say anything because I felt the same!” as soon as the words fell out of his mouth, it became dead silent in the house. You could have a pin drop. “I felt the same way.”

“Felt?’ you asked quietly, “or feel?”

He paused for a moment and you could see the little bit of pink rising up in his cheeks, “feel.” 

“Okay,” you nodded softly, staring at your feet, “so you felt and feel the same as I did. And then you told me you didn’t love me, that I was anything to you…we were nothing. That’s a pretty big disconnect.”

“I know this is going to sound stupid and maybe you won’t believe it, but it’s the truth,” you motioned for him to continue on, “I thought I was doing the right thing.”

“By pushing me away?”

“By pushing you away,” he agreed, “I thought by doing that, I was doing you a favor. That way you wouldn’t feel stuck - with me. That way you had the chance to do what you wanted.”

“Stuck with you?” you echoed, your heart deflating slightly. You definitely would not have had this on your bingo card, “you think I felt like I was stuck with you?”

“Didn’t you?” He seemed more like a shy boy than a grown man at that moment. 

“No,” you shook your head fervently, “of course not. I never once had that thought even cross my mind. I didn’t feel stuck - I wanted to be with you, Joel.”

“Oh,” he opened and closed his mouth a few times, “oh?”

“Oh,” you snorted lightly in amusement, “I’m in love with you, in case that wasn’t clear. I never felt stuck or that I had to be with you. I wanted to be here.”

“I thought giving you a way out was the best thing,” he sighed softly, “I thought it would be easier if you hated me. That way you wouldn’t waste your time on me.”

“I never once wanted an out,” you promised, “I never wanted someone else. Never. It was always you, Joel.”

“And I fucked it up,” he concluded. You swallowed thickly; part of you wished you could be mad at him forever, the other part of you knew that was never possible. He pushed off the counter and nodded to himself, “well, that’s my five minutes. Thank you for um…for listening to me. Letting me explain.”

You watched him turn around - but you didn’t let him walk away. 

You reached for his, fingers wrapping around his wrist as you stopped him, “wait.”

He had a shocked expression on his face as he turned to look at you. Part of him was sure that he’d imagined the moment, “what’s wrong?”

“Do you love me?” your voice cracked as you tried not to cry already.

This time he didn’t hesitate for a moment, “yes.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay,” you agreed again, “do you….you want me to leave?”

“No,” he promised, “I don’t.”

“Good because I don’t want to leave,” you couldn’t help the nervous laugh that bubbled up, “so I guess I’ll stay. Even though I’m still kind of mad at you.”

“I deserve that much,” he exhaled shakily, “that’s fair.”

“But I also love you so I want to stay.”

His face lit up and you remembered all the reasons you’d fallen in love with him in the first place, “I love you.”

“Promise me one thing.”

“Anything.”

“Next time,” you whispered, “just talk to me, okay? We’ll figure things out, but we gotta do them together.”

“I promise,” and you knew he meant it, “I promise.”

“I promise too, Joel,” you squeezed his hand, “always.”

“Always.”

[angelbarelywrites]

♡ slashers scenarios | y’all accidentally adopt a kid (part 2)

♡ fandoms; House of Wax, Hannibal (TV)/Silence of the Lambs, slashers (general)

♡ characters; Vincent Sinclair, Bo Sinclair, Hannibal Lecter

♡ reader; gender neutral

♡cw; parenthood, kidnapping, mentions of violence. basically don’t tell these guys you want a kid ig

♡notes; another sparse selection but i don’t think Billy Lenz is allowed within 100 yards of a school so it is what it is

also I hate how much I’m starting to love Bo oh my god

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

Vincent Sinclair

> he’s a nurturing man- to his brothers and you

> hell he babies Jonesy too

> even so, he’s shocked when you mention offhandedly that he’d make a good father

> he denies it vehemently

> even as the golden child he grew up in hell

> no way he’d know how to do any of it right

> but you just gently laugh and shake your head, insisting but not pressing it

> it makes him think

> and think and think

> he didn’t know much about kids, but you’d be a great parent

> and you wouldn’t lie to him- maybe he’d be at least an okay father

> families don’t come through often

> and when they do, Lester leaves them be

> if they ever get to Ambrose on their own, the town stays off- none of the Sinclairs want anything to do with harming children

> but mistakes happen, and Bo is freaking out

> a little girl with dark hair and bright blue eyes was sleeping in the back of a car while he took care of her parents, and he didn’t realize until far to late

> she’s maybe 3, and awfully scared and quiet- but when they bring her in the house she walks right up to you and Vincent

> she hugs your leg and finally smiles when Vincent kneels down to show her that Jonesy is a nice dog

> Bo is in shock when you volunteer to adopt her, but Vincent is in quick agreement

> she’s nonverbal, but you look through her family’s things to find out her name - Lilly Henson, or something to that affect .

> Lilly Sinclair has a much better ring to it anyways, doesn’t it?

Bo Sinclair

> he’s the type that if you mention that you want a kid to this man, he asks what color

> he is endlessly devoted to you

> and while he never wanted a kid before, he’s always so insistent you make him a better man

> so some snot nosed brats would complete the picture perfectly

> he’s not super serious about it, not really

> you have plenty of time to plan for a family

> and he’s the type to want biological children if possible- he’s so used to white picket fence suburbia-type ideals

> when a car pulls up to the gas station, he stops when he sees the infant car seat in the back

> he’s about to tell the parents to move along- but then he sees the second matching one

> something - probably his overinflated self worth - tells him he’d be a much better father to twins that these chucklefucks

> and you want a kid anyways! would two be much better

> they’re not identical- he’s not not disappointed by the fact, but they’re still adorable

> a boy and a girl a bit over a year, with big brown eyes and infectious giggles

> he’s beyond proud when he strides in with them

> “daddy’s home!”

> he thinks you might actually kill him this time

> but then Charlotte - the girl based on what’s embroidered on her blankie, reaches for you and you melt

> you’re still scolding him as you happily take Theodore too

> but he knows you’re beyond thrilled

Hannibal Lecter

> he’s always wanted a successor

> quite frankly it never had to be his child - or a child at all

> he thought about taking younger serial killers in the making under his wing more than once

> to teach them the art of culinary cannibalism and the finer points of flaying people

> but it’s far too dangerous - especially with you around

> you’re the one thing that trumps his egomania

> so he lets it be for the time being

> but one day, he takes on a special case at work

> a young boy who recently lost his parents very violently

> he’s in kindergarten, and expresses most everything through his rather advanced drawings

> you don’t interact with his patients- even though he works from home you’re pretty skilled at dodging them

> but on the way out that afternoon the little boy- Peter, his name is, runs out before his social worker and smack dab into you

> she apologizes on his half profusely but you’re so sweet with the boy

> you pick up his dropped drawings and comfort him- he’s quite upset he may have hurt or angered you

> he gives you a huge hug and Hannibal can see the fond, parental look on your face

> after that it’s quite simple to draw up the paperwork

> he’s already in foster care, and it only takes a few false documents to make the courts think that Hannibal’s custody is the best place for little Peter

> you learned long ago that it’s best not to question how or why Hannibal does something when he gets like that

> and either way you’re content with your new little family

[clumsyromantic]

NOT ANOTHER RAINBOW LEGACY CHALLENGE

Welcome to this ten generation legacy challenge based on vibrant colors! Inspired by all the other color themed legacies out there, because who doesn’t like basing their sims whole personality on a color (I know I’m a sucker for it lol). I won’t put a long list of rules here, because at the end of the day I want this to be your gameplay and story that you create. I will suggest that you follow each generation, but if something isn’t to your liking, by all means, change it for yourself. With that being said, don’t claim this challenge as your own, even if you tweak it. Remember, though, legacy challenges are all about having fun!

If you play don't forget to tag me here or on instagram @clumsy.romantic or use the hashtag #notanotherlegacy. I would really love to see some gameplay/stories!

Generation One: Licorice.

You never stay in one place too long. As a criminal, you’re always on the run. You don’t commit to anything. The only thing you’ve ever truly loved and committed to is your career. When it comes to actual love, you dip as soon as it seems like things might get serious. You don’t like being that close to people, letting people in like that. You can’t trust anyone, or so you thought.

Traits: Evil, Non-Committal, Romantic. (Additional: Self-Assured, Mean)

Aspiration: Serial Romantic.

Career: Criminal.

Have more enemies than friends.

Have a child with an enemy.

Move to a different world each time you age up.

Only your child(ren) can be your partner in crime.

Get caught cheating at least once.

Max your career.

Complete your aspiration.

Master the Mischief, Handiness and Programming skills.

[Packs used: None]

Generation Two: Pearl.

From the time you could hold things, you were coloring, drawing, painting, anything that could help you express yourself. You are the exact opposite of your parent. Maybe you’re like the other one? You wouldn’t know, though. You never met them, nor heard a single truth about them. That doesn’t matter, though, because as soon as you can, you move out of your parents home so that you can start your own life and family. Love isn’t easy, as you don’t truly know what it’s supposed to look like, but with how kind and caring you are, it almost comes easy to you.

Traits: Creative, Cheerful, Family-Oriented. (Additional: Loyal, Good)

Aspiration: Big Happy Family. 

Career: Painter.

Complete the Artist Prodigy as a child.

Move to a different world from your parent.

Marry someone with amazing compatibility (or someone with similar traits).

Have 5 children.

Have a bowling night with the family at least twice a week.

Max your career.

Complete your aspiration.

Master the Painting, Parenting and Bowling skills.

[Packs used: High School Years, Growing Together, Parenthood, Bowling Night]

Generation Three: Latte.

You come from a big family, and you’ve always loved every bit of it. However, nothing can compare to the love you have for fitness. As a teenager, you become a simfluencer who models athletic wear and shows off your healthy lifestyle. As a Young Adult, you constantly have dogs. You tell yourself all you need is dogs, until you meet another fitness buff who you end up having a baby with.

Traits: Active, Dog Lover, Vegetarian. (Additional: Ambitious, Outgoing)

Aspiration: Friend of the Animals.

Career: Simfluencer.

Have a good relationship with your parents and siblings.

Go to the gym four times a week.

Change your hairstyle once a week.

Have at least 3 dogs as a YA.

Become a B-lister.

Have a baby with someone you meet at the gym (bonus points if they have the active skill).

Max your career.

Complete your aspiration.

Master the Fitness, Entrepreneur, Media Production, and Pet Training skills.

[Packs used: Cats & Dogs, High School Years, Get Famous]

Generation Four: Dandelion.

It was hard for you to relate to your parents, as they were much more outgoing and sociable than you were. Keeping up conversations and being around people always made you feel drained. You preferred being by yourself with a good book. It was usually a sci-fi book about robots. It’s no surprise that you’re the first in your family to go to university and you end up working in engineering. Your best friend, perhaps lover as well, is a robot you built. Seems like a good life to you.

Traits: Loner, Overachiever, Socially Awkward. (Additional: Bookworm, Geek)

Aspiration: Nerd Brain.

Career: Engineer.

Attend university.

Build a servo bot.

Be romantic partners with the servo.

Woohoo with the servo in the rocketship.

Only adopt or have science babies.

Max your career.

Complete your aspiration.

Master the Logic, Handiness and Robotics skills.

[Packs used: High School Years, Discover University]

Generation Five: Emerald.

You want to make the world a better place for the next generations. Everything you do involves Mother Earth. You live off the land, garden and fish for your food. You raise chickens for your eggs and cows for your milk. You also fabricate and make things for yourself, others and your animals. Some of the things you create you sell on Plopsy for income. You have a baby with someone you’re engaged to be married to. But as soon as you can, you pack up and leave them, taking the baby with you.

Traits: Loves Outdoors, Maker, Freegan. (Additional: Green Fiend, Recycle Disciple)

Aspiration: Master Maker.

Career: Plopsy Seller.

Live in Evergreen Harbor (If you don’t already, move there as a YA).

Live in Port Promise, where you must make the eco footprint green.

Additional Challenge: have the Simple Living lot challenge in Evergreen.

Knitted and Fabricated items can be sold on Plopsy when you need simoleons.

Get engaged and try for a baby until one of you is pregnant.

Once you have reached green for the eco footprint; break off the engagement, take the baby and move to Sulani.

Complete your aspiration.

Master the Knitting, Fishing, Gardening and Fabrication skills.

[Packs used: Eco Lifestyle, Nifty Knitting, Island Living]

Generation Six: Turquoise.

Growing up on a beautiful beach with your single parent doing everything for you made you into a spoiled brat. The only thing you actually want to do, besides sleep and chill, is fashion photography. You have a real eye for fashion. Although, you don’t really have a knack for picking up work. You’re more likely to be suntanning than actually doing your job. The few times you do accept a job, you fall in love with the model. Instead of falling happily in love together, you are constantly fighting, and to make matters worse, you have a kid together. Something neither of you wanted.

Traits: Self-Absorbed, Lazy, Hates Children. (Additional: Jealous, Squeamish)

Aspiration: Beach Life.

Career: Freelance Fashion Photographer.

Accept a job once a week.

Have a baby with one of the models that has the Mean, Hot-Headed or Evil trait.

Only have 1 child.

Have a bad relationship with your child.

Move to San Myshuno as an Adult.

Max your career.

Complete your aspiration.

Master the Charisma and Photography skills.

[Packs used: Get Famous, Outdoor Retreat, Moschino, City Living]

Generation Seven: Ruby.

You constantly heard your parents fighting over something. They were never not fighting. You found your solace in music; listening to it, writing it, playing instruments, just everything about it. You get married young just so you can move out. But you’re in love with a musician on the side. You’re not really sure if you should keep seeing them, or stick by your spouse. You never really were good with decisions, especially ones that could really impact your future.

Traits: Music Lover, Hot-Headed, Childish. (Additional: Erratic, Dance Machine)

Aspiration: Musical Genius.

Career: Live off tips and fame.

Marry and move out as a YA.

Have a bad relationship with your parents.

Cheat on your spouse with someone who plays an instrument or sings.

Only earn money from tips when you play instruments or sing in public.

Have either a dance battle or karaoke night once a week.

Obtain fame, at least c-lister, from music.

Complete your aspiration.

Master the Singing, Dancing and any instrument skills.

[Packs used: Get Famous, City Living, Get Together]

Generation Eight: Magenta.

You’ve always used humor and pranks as a way to cope with everything going on in your life. No one but your best friend really gets you. It’s hard for you two to get over being friends when you realize that you have feelings for each other. Except, after having a baby together, you realize you were better off as friends. You still civilly raise the child, just not under the same roof anymore.

Traits: Paranoid, Goofball, Gloomy. (Additional: Clumsy, Cat Lover)

Aspiration: Chief of Mischief.

Career: Social Media.

Have a childhood best friend.

Have a baby with said best friend.

You and your best friend fall out, but you still raise the child civilly.

Have at least 1 cat.

Max your career.

Complete your aspiration.

Master the Comedy, Writing and Mischief skills.

[Packs used: Cats and Dogs, Strangerville, City Living]

Generation Nine: Tangerine.

You prefer the finer things in life. You live in the city, but as a young adult working in law, you often take vacations to Mt. Komorebi. Where, when you fall in love with a local and have children, you take your children there often. Not until you retire, do you and your spouse move there. In the meantime, you enjoy the time you spend there; skiing, snowboarding, rock climbing, sightseeing, etc. You dream of your vacations while at work.

Traits: Adventurous, Kleptomaniac, Bro. (Additional: Lactose Intolerant, Materialistic)

Aspiration: Mt. Komorebi Sightseer.

Career: Law.

Take 2 vacation days a week to go to Mt. Komorebi.

Marry and have children with someone who lives in Mt. Komorebi

Continue living in San Myshuno until you retire and move to Mt. Komorebi.

Steal one item a day.

Max your career.

Complete your aspiration.

Master the Skiing, Snowboarding and Rock Climbing skills.

[Packs used: Snowy Escape, Cottage Living]

Generation Ten: Aubergine.

Your parents always showed you the luxurious sides of life. Treating you to everything and anything you could ever imagine. It lit the way for your future career as a critic. You enjoyed being able to put your 2 cents into whatever you could get your neatly, well kept fingers on. You also always looked and presented to be your best self. 

Traits: Neat, Foodie, Snob. (Additional: High Maintenance, Perfectionist)

Aspiration: Party Animal.

Career: Critic.

Host 3 parties a week.

Each party has a theme; decorate and cook accordingly.

Get married 3 times (not to the same person).

Have 1 child per marriage.

Don’t get close to your children until they are Young Adults.

Max your career.

Complete your aspiration.

Master the Cooking, Writing and Gourmet Cooking skills.

[Packs used: Spa Day, City Living]

[awkward-walking-potato]

wade Wilson with an s/o that doesn’t celebrate their own birthday? (bonus points if you make them forget their own birthday because it’s been so long since they ever celebrated it)

Better Than Cake

Wade Wilson never missed an opportunity for a party—especially if it involved ridiculous decorations, food, and cake. But something had been bugging him lately, something about you. No matter how long he’d been with you, he realized he didn’t know your birthday. Not because he hadn’t asked—but because you’d never seemed to care.

Today, Wade was lounging around your shared apartment, wearing his usual red-and-black Deadpool suit, with the mask casually pulled back to rest around his neck. He watched you make breakfast, and a thought crossed his mind.

“Hey, babe,” Wade called, his tone oddly casual for once. “When’s your birthday?”

You paused, turning to look at him with a confused expression. “My… birthday?”

“Yeah, y’know, the day of your miraculous, earth-shattering entrance into this glorious world? The day you were born? It’s kind of a big deal.” Wade grinned, but he was watching your reaction carefully now.

You frowned slightly, thinking about it for a moment before shrugging. “I don’t really celebrate it. Haven’t in… years, honestly. I don’t even remember when the last one was.”

Wade blinked, stunned for a moment. “Wait, hold up. You forgot your own birthday?”

You chuckled softly, shaking your head as you went back to cooking. “I guess I just stopped caring after a while. It’s not a big deal.”

Wade’s grin faded slightly, replaced by an uncharacteristically serious look. “Not a big deal?” he repeated, standing up and walking over to you. “Babe, your birthday is a huge deal. How could you not celebrate it?”

You shrugged again. “I don’t know. I just never thought much of it. After a while, it’s just another day.”

Wade stood there, staring at you like you’d just spoken in another language. “Okay, no. Absolutely not. We’re fixin’ this right now.”

You turned to face him, raising an eyebrow. “What are you talking about?”

“We are gonna celebrate the hell out of your birthday, no matter when it was,” Wade declared, a determined gleam in his eyes. “If you don’t remember, we’ll pick a day. Hell, we’ll pick today. Today is now officially your birthday. Boom! Done.”

You laughed at his enthusiasm, but before you could protest, Wade had already darted off to grab his phone. “Wade, seriously, you don’t have to—"

“Too late! I’m ordering a cake, decorations, and balloons. Oh! And we’ll need streamers. You can’t have a party without streamers. It’s in the rulebook of fun.”

You rolled your eyes, but a small smile tugged at your lips as you watched him go into full-on planning mode. “Wade, it’s really not necessary—"

“Necessary? No. Fun? Hell yes!” He winked at you before continuing, “Trust me, babe, everyone deserves to feel special on their birthday, and if no one’s done it for you in a while, that just means I’m gonna have to go extra hard.”

It didn’t take long for Wade to throw together a “birthday” celebration. By the afternoon, the apartment was covered in balloons, confetti, and banners that read “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” in obnoxiously bright colors. You had to admit, it was a little overwhelming, but in a strangely heartwarming way.

Wade even managed to get a cake—though he’d clearly taken a bite out of it before he brought it to the table. He stood there, proud of his hastily thrown-together birthday bash, grinning from ear to ear.

“Alright, (Y/N),” Wade said, standing in front of you with the cake in his hands. “Make a wish. And no, you can’t wish for me to stop being so ridiculously handsome.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head as you blew out the single candle on the cake. “I don’t know what to say, Wade. This is… a lot.”

“Damn right, it is,” Wade replied, setting the cake down and wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “But y’know what? You deserve a lot. And if no one else is gonna make a big deal out of your birthday, I’m gonna do it for both of us.”

You smiled softly, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. You couldn’t remember the last time someone had gone out of their way to make you feel this special. “Thanks, Wade. Really.”

He pressed a kiss to your temple, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “Anytime, babe. Anytime.”

[solarmorrigan]

They aren’t high, but they might as well be.

It’s so late that it’s early, sitting in those odd hours of motionless night when exhaustion throws a ridiculous filter over everything and it’s an effort not to laugh loud enough to alert Robin’s parents to the fact that there’s an unauthorized boy in her room.

She and Steve have been lying side by side on her bed for the last hour, both knowing they should probably go to sleep if they’re going to wake up with enough time for Steve to sneak out and actually drive home safely, but they’re not quite ready yet. Instead, they’re content to be pressed together, shoulder to ankle, hands intertwined between them, content to feel the other secure and nearby.

Robin lifts their hands and uncurls her fingers, spreading them open like a star and prompting Steve to do the same, until their hands are pressed flat together with their fingers outstretched.

“Your hands are bigger than mine,” Robin says, looking at the way her palm fits into Steve’s with room to spare and the way his fingers extend past hers by almost a whole knuckle.

“Probably because I’m bigger than you,” Steve says, also lazily gazing at the way their hands fit together.

“Yeah, but they’re, like, way bigger than mine,” Robin insists. “You have really big hands.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “They’re not that big. You just have stubby fingers.”

“Rude. You just have giant hands.”

“I do not.”

“Like mittens.”

“No.”

“Banana hands.”

“You are literally the only girl who has ever said something bad about the size of my hands.”

Robin smacks her free hand against Steve’s chest. “Ew.”

Steve is laughing. “You started it.”

“Lies,” Robin says, taking Steve’s hand in both of hers so she can continue examining it. “Why are your nails so nice?”

Steve watches as Robin traces the tips of her fingers over the even cuticles and neatly trimmed ends of his nails. “Because I take care of them, and I don’t bite them, unlike some people.”

“I never bite your nails,” Robin says, smiling as Steve groans dramatically.

“That was terrible. You’re terrible.”

“Nope, you love me.”

“I can love you even if you’re terrible.” Steve turns his hand so he can catch one of Robin’s and look it over for himself. “You’ve been biting your nails a lot lately.”

Robin shrugs. “Stressed,” is all she offers; she doesn’t really have to say much more for him to get it.

Steve frowns, threading his fingers back through hers and squeezing. “You used to paint them, didn’t you? Like, to help you remember not to chew on them so much?”

“I did, yeah,” Robin says thoughtfully. “It’s been a while since I’ve even thought about doing that.”

“You should do it again. Give your nails a chance to heal,” Steve says.

Robin hums, as if she has to think it over. “Only if you let me paint yours, too.”

And maybe it’s the fact that it’s after two a.m., but all Steve does is shrug and say, “Yeah, sure.”

Robin sits up on the bed like Dracula popping up out of his coffin, turning to stare at him with her bedhead flying wild around her face. “Seriously?”

“You want me to say no?” Steve asks.

“Well I didn’t expect you to just say yes!” Robin says in a hushed yell. “I thought I’d have to argue you down.”

Steve grins. “Go get your nail polish before I change my mind, Buckley.”

He doesn’t have to tell her twice. Robin swings her legs off the bed and goes to her dresser, digging through her makeup case and returning with a handful of black-capped bottles.

“Pick your poison, Harrington.” Robin gestures to the array of colors.

Steve is slow to sit up, stretching and groaning before he turns to sit cross-legged in front of Robin. “You pick. I’ve never had my nails painted before, so we’ll have to go with your expertise.”

“Hmm.” Robin clasps her fingers together under her chin, tapping her lips with her index fingers as if this is the most serious decision she’ll ever have to make. Finally, her hand flashes out and grabs one of the bottles, holding it up and wiggling it for Steve to see. “How about a little navy blue, sailor?”

Steve rolls his eyes, but he can’t tamp down his smile. “Why not?”

“Okay, gimme your hand.” Robin holds her hand out for Steve’s, palm up and fingers making grabby curls.

Steve puts out his left hand and lets Robin place it on her knee, fingers outstretched while he waits for Robin to shake the bottle of polish thoroughly and unscrew the cap.

“Try to hold still,” Robin instructs him, biting the tip of her tongue between her teeth in concentration as she applies the brush to his thumbnail.

Obligingly, Steve holds as still as possible, content to watch as Robin works her way from his thumb and onto his index finger, coating his nails in shining wet navy blue.

He pulls his hand away for a moment when Robin has to dip the brush back in the bottle for more polish, looks over her handiwork, and lets out a low whistle.

“Wow,” he says, putting his hand back down on Robin’s knee when she gestures for it. “You really suck at this.”

Robin lets out a surprised bark of laughter, narrowly avoiding streaking nail polish down the length of Steve’s finger. “Fuck off, I do not!”

“You kinda do, Rob,” Steve says, his voice full of warmth even as he denounces her skill with a brush.

“How would you even know?” Robin jibes. “You said you’ve never had your nails painted before.”

“I know the nail polish isn’t supposed to go over the edges of the nail,” Steve shoots back.

They both pause to look at the way the polish has been laid thick over the skin on either side of Steve’s nails and has even dribbled a little bit onto the tip of one of his fingers.

“Shut up. It’s a process,” Robin finally says, taking the brush to his ring finger.

“A process, huh?”

“Yes! You paint the nails, and then you use nail polish remover and, like, a Q-tip to clean up the edges.”

“Uh huh.”

“You’re just fussy, that’s all,” Robin pronounces, grinning at Steve’s little noise of offense.

“I am not fussy,” he insists.

“You kinda are, Steve,” Robin replies. “Anyway, I’d like to see you do a better job.”

“Deal,” Steve says, maybe a little too quickly for Robin’s liking. “I’ll do your nails next.”

“Well that, I have to see,” Robin says, putting the brush back into the bottle and motioning for him to switch hands.

True to her word, Robin quietly retrieves the nail polish remover and some Q-tips from the bathroom and neatens up her paintjob once she’s finished, and Steve appraises her work like a jeweler looking over and handful of gems.

“Not bad, Buckley,” he says, shrugging his lips.

Robin rolls her eyes. “What are you now, a fashion critic? Hurry up and paint my nails so I can make fun of you.”

Steve’s answering grin is unsettlingly sharp, but Robin still lets him pick the color. He settles on red—“To accent the blue, obviously”—and shakes the bottle before pulling the brush and starting on Robin’s left hand where it rests on his knee.

His strokes are smooth and even, not once straying over the edges of her nails, not even over the bitten, ragged ends, and he moves from one finger to the next with a kind of practiced ease.

“What the fuck!” Robin barely remembers to keep her voice down in her outrage. “Why are you good at this?”

Steve ducks his head, clearly holding in a laugh. “I used to paint Carol’s nails for her all the time.”

“Carol Perkins?” Robin asks, brows furrowed.

“Did I spend a lot of time with any other Carols?” Steve shoots her a look from beneath his lashes before turning back to his work.

“Why?”

Steve shrugs. “She tried to get Tommy to do it one day and he refused, so she asked me to do it instead, and… I dunno, I figured, why not? I did suck at it at first,” he admits. “But I think she just liked having someone’s focus on her for the time it took to do her nails. And I guess I just – like, it felt good, I guess. Taking care of someone else, even just in that little way. And I liked how the nail polish looked when I finally got it right.

“Any time we hung out at her house, she’d ask me to paint her nails for her, or she’d steal my mom’s nail polish if we were at mine. It was, like… our thing, I guess?”

For a moment, Robin sits in the knowledge that Steve and Tommy Hagan and Carol Perkins had actually been friends.

From the outside, the three of them had looked like a toxic hurricane of derision and unfairly nice bone structure; they were rarely seen without looks of condescending amusement or lounging around being too cool for everyone else. It had been easy to think of their arrangement as some kind of superficial bond of mutual bitchiness, but at the same time, everyone distantly knew that Steve and Tommy and Carol had been a package deal since at least middle school.

Tommy and Carol had been the only two people Steve routinely hung out with, now that Robin thinks about it. People from basketball and swim and other hangers-on came and went, but those two had been fixtures. They’d probably been his best friends.

And midway through Junior year, Steve had left them.

He’d realized they weren’t who he thought they were, or maybe he’d realized they weren’t who he wanted to be, but the fact is that he’d left behind the two people he’d known the longest and had stepped uncertainly forward without knowing if he’d have anyone at all after that.

For a while he’d had Nancy. Then had come Henderson and all the other rugrats – but as much as Steve loves them, that isn’t quite the same as friends your own age, is it?

But now, he has Robin.

And she’s going to make sure that’s worth something.

“I can’t believe I’ve had some kind of professional manicurist under my nose this whole time,” Robin laments, grinning at Steve when he glances up at her with a huff.

“I’m pretty sure you have to get paid to be a professional. Are you gonna pay me for my services?” he asks.

“I will pay you in love and affection,” Robin declares. “Money can’t buy you these things, Steve.”

“That’s convenient,” Steve shoots back.

“Isn’t it? And I’m going to paint your nails yellow next time,” Robin says.

Steve glances to the side, where Robin’s collection of nail polish sits. “You don’t have any yellow.”

“I’ll buy some.” Robin shrugs. “I think it would look good on you.”

“And you just assume I’m going to let you paint my nails again.” Steve raises an eyebrow at her as he dips the brush back in the bottle to rewet it for the last couple of nails.

“Yep,” Robin says easily.

Steve looks back down, like he really needs to focus that hard on getting the nail of her ring finger just right, but she can tell he’s biting down on a smile.

“Okay,” he finally says, quietly.

“Okay,” she echoes back, giving him a sleepy smile when he glances up.

It’s late, and it’s going to be even later by the time they can go to sleep without ruining their nails, and in fact they’re probably not going to get any sleep at all, but somehow, Robin doesn’t mind.

Even being sleep deprived together with Steve is better than anything she can think of doing apart.

[Prompt: Comparing hand sizes]

[richarlotte]

Most important steps to your glow up?

Top Tier.

Braces.

I had my braces on for 18 months, and they were the best decision of my life. I can breathe better, my jaw and chin look better, my teeth are straight, and I have no more pain. Facial harmony is everything, and mine was restored by an expert orthodontist and continued use of my retainers. Jaw surgery wasn’t reasonable or necessary, but I can’t even begin to describe the impact that dental whitening, braces, weight loss, and proper dental care work had on my face.

 

Electrolytes and Hydration.

I was severely dehydrated and in need of electrolytes for years and years. I thought that drinking enough water wasn’t as important as people made it seem, but my life changed when I started to do it. Life feels much less stressful now that I’m properly hydrated, and I make sure to toss a little lemon and salt in my water and drink a Gatorade or Liquid IV to get electrolytes.

 

Darker and Longer Hair.

I look better with hair that’s long, dark, and thick. I have alopecia, so I did a number of things to disguise my hair loss growing up, but I wear wigs now that my hair is gone. I was told to wear my hair long, dark, and straight last year, and whenever I do, people tell me that I look otherworldly. Now that I know what to do with my hair and what looks best, I’m a million times more confident about myself.

 

Less Dairy.

I am not lactose intolerant, but I do not need to be eating dairy in excess. I enjoy dairy, so I won’t cut it out of my diet, but I don’t need to be eating it in the amount that I did. I was bloated, always breaking out, and tired all the time, but my low energy dissipated the second I cut my dairy intake. I’m not 100% dairy-free and most likely won’t ever be, but I’m careful with the amount I consume.

 

Korean Contact Lenses.

Americans think that all colored contact lenses are unnatural, and American-made colored contacts are. I use Olens contacts and only use the dark shades, and they’re amazing. I find that having huge, dark, striking eyes helps me get exactly what I want, and I love the way I look when I’m wearing contacts. I use contacts to craft my look and emphasize my eyes, and I never buy or use colors that aren’t brown or black. Wearing dark contacts has reduced my need for so much bright eye makeup; they make me look friendlier, and I look better in photos.

 

Better Quality Makeup.

Investing in higher-quality makeup and actually learning how to apply it was crucial. Buying Hourglass, Pat McGrath, Charlotte Tilbury, MAC, and Nars was sort of essential to my makeup journey, and I look much better now that I’ve invested the time and money into learning about makeup. Dupes just don’t hold up to the real things, and I look better now that I’m spending $45 on one product instead of spending $45 on five different products to try to replicate the look.

 

Urea, Glutamic Acid, and Dry Brushing.

I used to have serious strawberry arms and legs, dry skin, and dark spots from body acne, but all of that has cleared up. Hyaluronic acid and body serums have nothing on this combo, and dry brushing has completely cleared up my rough skin and helped with my stretch marks. If you want skin that’s plump, hydrated, glowing, and looks healthy, then you have to exfoliate your dry and wet skin and start using this trio to care for your body.

 

Better Skincare Products.

I invested a lot in using fancy designer brands, but the things that helped me the most were basic, unscented, and quality. I use Paula’s Choice exfoliant, plenty of SPF 100, retinol, and a variety of Korean and American products. My facial acne is gone, my dark marks are cleared, my skin barrier is healed, my skin looks healthier, and I’m glowing. Drunk Elephant, celebrity skincare brands, and trending products didn’t do it for me; figuring out what I needed and then implementing it into my routine helped.

 

Creating my own aesthetic.

I won’t stop talking about The Blend because it helped me become who I am today. I wanted to create a look that would help me, and so I had to spend months solidifying my image. It took me a year to get to where I am today, but life became easier once I was able to figure out what I should be doing, what I should be saving for or investing in, and what suited me. The Blend isn’t just about style, and I had to be scientific with it at times and really work with the resources I had and what was readily accessible to me.

I can do Mid Tier next.

[scoops-aboy86]

If You Were Serious (Secret Admirer pt 7)

Okay, so there will be more than seven chapters. For now, please enjoy Steve on painkillers and creative mix tape shenanigans.

(The crossed out thing after the first "Dear" is the first line of an E.)

wc: 3226 / rated: T / set end of/after season 3 / also on ao3

Dear I

Dear Secret Amdirer,

Sorry, painkillers kicking in. I got pretty banged up in the mall, in the fire. Well, less the fire and more getting hit by stuff. Mall fell down. I have ribs and eye and nose, and concussion this time so I had to stay over at Robin’s because someone had to keep an eye on me sleeping and my parents are still out of town. Dustin said I won at upper body injury bingo but I didn’t even know I was playing, that sounds like really a shitty game. 

Anyway, I haven’t been home so I don’t know if you tried to call. If you did, don’t worry!!! I’m not mad. I don’t not like you anymore just because you’re you. And this isn’t the durg drugs talking because I read your letter first before they kicked in, but I have to write this ASAP so it can get to you faster. 

You could’ve called back that night but if you needed some time to breathe I get it, it’s cool. And I kinda had a feeling after that you might be a guy? Like, shit, man, they’d eat you alive in this town. Not me, I learned my lesson after Jonathan wrecked my face after I called him and his family some bad things. I deserved that. Kinda funny how the next year he stole my girlfriend and now I like you. If you could still be interested in somebody who used to be like that. 

I know I like you because when you hung up I was really worried, you sounded like you were breathing really fast, maybe a panic attack? I have those after nightmares now. Robin too. (Don’t worry, we bonded and she’s like my sister now, she says we’re playdoh soulmates

“Oh my god, I knew explaining who Plato was was a bad idea. It’s platonic, Steve, not Play-Doh.”

“Stop reading over my shoulder! … How do you spell that?”

“P-L-A-T-O-N-I-C.”

“Thanks Robbie.”

she says we’re playdoh soulmates platonic soulmates.) I was worried about you and thought maybe you might be a guy but, that wasn’t as important as wanting you to be okay, you know? You still wrote me all those nice letters. You’ve made me feel really good about myself, why does it have to be different just because you’re not a girl? I can’t tell you why Robin knows about this stuff but she says I might be bysix bisexual. Not sure why I need a big fancy word for it when I didn’t have one for liking girls, I just know I care about you a lot and want you to like me. 

And you’re not a coward, you’re very very brave. You reached out first, you went for what you wanted even when I didn’t get it and tried to ask for too much too soon. And then you kept coming back to try again, even though I kept doing that. That’s so brave. 

I’m not feeling so awake anymore so I’m going to stop and have Robin mail this for me. (No way am I going out dressed like this. Her dad wears grandpa shorts dude, it’s pretty bad.) I’ll write more when I’m feeling better. Are you okay? Hope you weren’t anywhere near the mall the other night. Thanks for the rainbow song I will look for it.

Love Steve 

~

Once Eddie is done reading, he screams into his pillow for a different reason. Several, actually. 

First, he’s been so sure for the past week or so that he would never hear from Steve ever again. The only reason he’d checked his mail today was because he should have another zine coming in soon. He didn’t, but there was a yellow envelope with familiar, if slightly messier than usual handwriting on it. And inside that, stationary with colorful geometric shapes along the edges that Eddie now surmises is Robin’s. 

Second, Steve isn’t even writing to tell him to fuck off right to hell. Because yes, Eddie had heard the rumors about Steve calling Jonathan Byers a queer. The irony does send a seam of semi-hysterical laughter through his screams. It’s fine. It’s fine!

Third, Steve hasn’t been avoiding his calls. He just hasn’t been home. He’s hurt, and it sounds like his head and torso took quite a beating. Eddie remembers seeing him around school both times after the other concussions and that had looked bad enough, and that had just been his face. This sounds worse. 

Fourth, Steve is… still interested? Has talked to someone about this and might be bisexual?! Eddie’s never had anyone talk to someone else about him, has always been completely anonymous with a possible option of becoming a dirty little secret. And then the letter ends with ‘Love Steve.’ Love? Love Steve?!

Fifth, Robin knows he sent Steve that ice cream. Eddie doesn’t know what all “platonic soulmates” entails, but what if she tells him? What if she already has?!

Sixth, despite being injured, and having panic attacks apparently, Steve is still asking if he is okay. 

Seventh, beneath his name Steve had also doodled a lopsided happy face with what he can only guess is an ice pack balanced on top. Or… maybe it’s hair. Or some kind of hat. 

Any of these would be enough to make his head spin on their own, but it’s all happening at once and he doesn’t know what to do. So he screams into his pillow for a while longer, kicking his feet for good measure. 

He wants to rush out and find Steve, wherever he is. Wants to call him, but doesn’t know what he would say even if he did know the number to reach him right now. What he could say. Wants to wrap both arms around him and kiss his poor head better. Hell, if he’s turned Steve gay he doesn’t just want, he deserves to make that guy the little spoon for the first time in his life probably and just. Hold him. 

Except… he’s not sure he’s ready for face to face yet. He will be! Soon. Once all the emotions bubbling in his chest have settled a little. And after he’s pinched himself a few million more times just to make sure. But until then…

A thought occurs to him, and Eddie rolls over to frown consideringly up at the ceiling. He’s sent Steve words to comfort and reassure him before, right? Maybe there’s something else he can send, a different way of offering a part of himself to Steve until he works up the nerve to face him for real. 

It’s just going to take him a little time, and some recording equipment. 

~

Dearest Steve,

I hope this address is still okay to write to you while you stay with your friend, but I don’t know where she lives. 

You have no idea 

Holy shit man. Holy shit. Are you serious? No, strike that, you’ve been nothing but genuine in these letters and I trust you, I do. Holy shit though. It’s you. Clearly I never thought I’d actually have a chance, from the way I approached this whole thing, so you must forgive me for how utterly poleaxed, completely flabbergasted, and genuinely gobsmacked I am. 

And shit, I’m still sorry for hanging up on you. That golden years line—and this heavy secret of the most basic fact of who I am weighing on my shoulders, pressing down so hard I couldn’t breathe. I wish I’d just said something. But you’re right, I needed… space? And a push, to work up to writing the last letter I sent you. I got yours the day I put that in the mail, by the way, and that spun me even more because what if you read mine and took it all back?

But you didn’t. You didn’t, sweetheart. I’m still reeling in the best possible way. Again, axed like a pole, flabbers gasted, and gob thoroughly smacked.

Enough about me. More than enough about me. You’re concussed; I ought to wrap that gorgeous head of yours in bubble wrap and offer to fight all your battles henceforth, even against falling buildings. I’m glad you have someone out there who’s looking out for you though. I guess… you’ve told Robin about some things? Maybe these letters? Which is absolutely fine, by the way. It’s great! Fuck knows it wouldn’t have occurred to me to explain what bisexuality is, since I hardly dared to dream so big and only swing the one way myself. You’re an amazingly open-minded person by the way, Steve; I hope you know how rare that is, especially in a place like Hawkins. And Robin too, apparently. Please give her my highest regards, she is an angel among mortals and an inadvertent champion of this sad wet rag of a human being (me). 

At any rate, wishing you the speediest of recoveries and I hope you’re already feeling at least a little better. My condolences on the grandpa shorts, although personally I’m convinced you could wear a trash bag and still look like an Adonis. 

It’s taken me a little longer than I’d like to send this because I made something for you. Enclosed is a tape with some of the songs from our call that you said you liked, played acoustically by yours truly. Rainbow In The Dark is one of them. You mentioned having nightmares, and whenever I had bad dreams as a kid my mom would play for me until I calmed down. She’d hum instead of doing the words, to make it more like a lullaby. I hope it’s at least a decent distraction, sweetheart. 

Let me know if you like it? I can make one of your favorite songs too, just you let me know what they are. In the meantime, I remain, as always—

Your Secret Admirer

~

“You should tell him that you know,” Robin whispers, at some point during the fourth night in a row they’ve ended up crashed on the same bed listening to the Anti-Panic Attack Metal Mix. 

Her dad sleeps like the dead and her mom sleeps with earplugs in because he snores, so they get away with it, but Steve always insists on laying on top of the covers anyway. The friendship is still new, for all that they’re trauma bonded, and he wants to make sure she knows he’s not getting any funny ideas, that he gets the whole lesbian thing, that even though he’s new to being into a dude he’s committed to it and not wishy-washy or greedy or whatever.

He fiddles with a loose string on the blanket for a minute before answering. “No… I don’t want to freak him out again. It’s all going to be on his terms from here on out, no more pushing.”

“Well you’ve got to do something. Come on Steve, I’m invested now. Ask to meet him.”

He rolls his eyes. “What did I just say?” 

Immediately he gives an inward wince, because that came out bitchy. But Robin just snorts and murmurs “Fine,” sounding amused rather than offended, so he relaxes. 

They exist in silence for a while, side by side. Just close enough to not feel alone, drifting on the soft notes and low, rich hum. It’s soothing. 

“What if,” Robin starts, and ignores Steve’s huff. “What if you go somewhere you know he might show, and then give him the opportunity to talk to you?”

“Oh yeah,” he scoffs, “like what?”

“Summer house party.” Her whisper picks up a little in excitement as she warms to her own idea. “I bet we can find one that’s coming up soon. Everyone knows that Munson sells, it’s one of those never invited but always welcome things. Then if he doesn’t come to you, just buy some weed and see if he says anything.”

“No,” Steve whispers back. 

She rolls over to squint at him in the dark. “Just think about it, okay? You wouldn’t be forcing him to do anything, just… providing an opportunity. Come on, Stevie-evie, this is my chance to see a gay love story go right.”

“Vetoing that nickname.” With a sigh, he rolls onto his side too, facing her. “My face still looks like raw hamburger meat, Robs. I have like zero charm right now.”

The swelling has gone down, at least to where he can open his eye again but the bruising remains spectacular. It looks like a sunset exploded across the side of his face, and not in a good way. 

Robin rolls her eyes. “You’re more than just your face, dingus. It wasn’t your rugged jawline, sculpted cheekbones, or pimple-free forehead that wrote those letters, it was you. Steve.”

He goes to wrinkle his nose at the descriptions, but quickly remembers that’s still a bad idea with a swallowed grunt. “Please, never describe me again.”

“I make no promises. And anyway, if you’re willing to try makeup I think we could get most of it covered so no one’ll ever notice. Not at night, anyway.”

That gives him pause. He rolls onto his back again to think about it, staring up at the ceiling of Robin’s bedroom and tracing imaginary constellation lines between the glow in the dark stars she has up there. Beside him, he feels her settling on her back too without having to look. 

It’s not like when he’d found a little brother in Dustin—who has visited pretty much every day during Steve’s convalescence, sometimes with Erica or Mike, Lucas, and Max in tow, spouting off things he’s read in books about the various still-healing injuries. As annoying as it is, Steve appreciates that the little dork took the time to study what’s wrong with him enough to provide armchair diagnoses and give him advice about things that he already knows. 

Robin is… more of a twin than a sister. (Which, yeah, twin sister, whatever. That’s not the point.) They’re on the same wavelength in a way he’s never experienced before, not with Tommy or Carol or even Nancy. The closest thing Steve has ever had to this was during basketball games, in the heat of a play where everyone on the team knew where everyone was and where they’d be and how to work together as a unit, perfectly in sync. Only with Robin, it’s all the time. Sometimes they can even finish each other’s sentences—though they try not to do that around her parents, in the interest of not wanting them to think they’re a couple. 

They’re more like a pair of bonded kittens at the pound, Robin says. Must be adopted together. (“Okay, but why can’t we be dogs? Dogs are cooler.” “Because, dingus, you have a one-hundred-and-twenty-seven step hair and skin routine and you’re incredibly aloof when you want to be. I could go either way, but you’re one hundred percent cat.”)

“Maybe,” he whispers finally. 

He’s not sure she’s still awake—he’s not sure he’s still awake, with the soothing music lulling him back to a calm he hadn’t felt even before he’d gone to bed the first time. But he wants to think she hears it, just like he wants to think that he’ll run into Eddie and find out what it’s like to hold his hand, maybe even kiss him, all in the same night. He’s worn lip gloss, he can deal with a little makeup. 

“Maybe I’ll go.”

~

Dear Secret Admirer,

Thank you for the tape, it’s perfect. It helps me get back to sleep because it feels like you’re there, watching over me. Like nothing bad can happen. Sometimes the nightmares still come back after but I think it’s getting better. It takes a while, you know? Last time, after the after Billy after my last concussion it took a while to stop having bad dreams. I guess the mind needs time to heal too, even if the stuff that happens to it isn’t as “real” as breaking a nose or a rib. Who knew?

I really am serious, yeah. Even though I’m me. Whatever that means. I don’t really know what to do with myself or what I want right now. (Except you. Kind of cheesy, but maybe you like that about me? I guess it’s something I always tried to hide before because the guys would’ve made fun of me, fuck knows Tommy did all of junior year, but I kind of like the idea that maybe you saw it anyway.) Once my face heals up me and Robin are going to try and get jobs together somewhere else because we’re cats that have to stick together or we’ll get stressed out and claw all the furniture. Other than that I don’t know what I want to do except leave Hawkins someday. But stick around to make sure it’s to see the kids graduate. Dustin’s starting high school in the fall, maybe you could keep an eye out for him? Curly hair, no collarbones, ego bigger than the whole state, total nerd but in a good way, even if he’s sometimes a butthead about it. He plays that game with dragons and those weird looking dice, do you know it? Him and his friends Mike and Lucas are kind of bully magnets. (Max is starting freshman year too but she can take care of herself in that department.) They’ve all been pretty down after the mall and with Will and moving away and everything. Erica, Lucas’ little sister, I guess I’m her “babysitter” now too, is still in middle school but I don’t know if she’d be glad or insulted if I waited around to see her graduate. She can take care of herself too. She and Dustin were with us for most of the Starcourt burning down and it was a lot, but kids are resilient. I don’t think she gets nightmares, not that she would ever admit to anyone if she did even though in her own words “we’ve bled together.” She’s getting into the nerdy dice game too and is planning her campaign for President of the USA as soon as she turns, what, 40? 50? Whatever age you have to be before you can do that. I’ll probably still be in a town like Hawkins with another lame retail job by then, but she’s got my vote. She’d do a hell of a lot better job than Regan, that’s for sure. 

Is your mom My mom never sang to

Also, you are really good at guitar, man. I still think about your hands, I bet you have long fingers. Really… What’s a word for ‘good with his fingers’? I think about that sometimes. I don’t really know what kind of stuff two guys can do together except the obvious but I think about that a lot. I want you to play me like your guitar. I’d let you fight my battles too, at least until my ribs get back to normal and then we can both fight both of our battles. You know I’d do that for you, right? If you ever need me. I really like these letters. I really like you.

Love, Steve

P.S. If you were serious about making me another tape (which you really don’t have to, this was already going above and beyond), my favorite songs are…

Tag list (and if you missed the earlier chapters check the "#secret admirer steddie" tag on my blog): @hotluncheddie @lawrencebshoggoth @sofadofax @tangerinesteve @steviewashere

@cryingglightningg @theresebelivett @sleepy-steve @rozzieroos @lunaraindrop

@just-my-latest-hyperfixation @wheneverfeasible @swimmingbirdrunningrock @yesdangerpls @matchingbatbites

@ihavekidneys @p0lybl4nkk @grtwdsmwhr @cheesedoctor @whalesharksart

@thetinymm @envyadams-vs-me @practicallybegging @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @dauntlessdiva

@nerdyglassescheeseychick @fuzzyduxk @chaosgremlinmunson @greatwerewolfbeliever @goosesister

@dolphincliffs @friendlyneighborhoodgaycousin @beckkthewreck @pitrsattabhaadmeinjao @kurofuckingshi16

@bookworm0690 @millseyes-world @live-laugh-love-dietrich @the-tenth-mus-e

[mikanotes]

(no need for) liquid courage

arisu x gn!reader — 2.3k words

genre: fluff

warnings: alcohol usage, swearing, arisu and the never ending struggles of social interactions, love at first sight (not really but what the hell!) honestly badly written, barely proofread

synopsis: Arisu will never, ever like parties. He knows that. He has known that since forever. But then he sees you, and he has to consider changing his entire view on that.

author’s note: welcome back arisu i missed writing for u… also everyone thank my best friend for telling me not to write the ending i originally planned or i’m being very serious when i say the tags would’ve included major character death LMFAO

It only takes a total of thirty seconds at a party hosted by friends of Karube’s for Arisu to decide: this is definitely not his thing. Not at all. The colored, flashing lights. The uncomfortably loud music blasting through speakers and hitting each wall of the place until it reaches Arisu’s ears with the promise of an impending headache. The deadly amount of people— There’s just no way I could stay here and hope to actually survive the night, he thinks.

Someone jogs up to him and slaps him on the back and Arisu sighs. “No.” he says, before Karube can get a single word out. The latter groans and shakes the glass of alcohol in his hand. Alcohol. For a moment, that seems like a good idea. Karube chugs it down before shaking his head.

“Yes.” he counters, and shushes Arisu’s complaints immediately, holding up a finger, “Only time I’m acting like an asshole friend, alright? Only time. And even then, I’m trying to help you out.”

Arisu furrows his eyebrows and looks at him weirdly. Karube is not wrong, because he never pushes him out of his comfort zone much and Arisu appreciates it. However, he really can’t see this whole thing as an act of help in any way.

“Help?” he repeats, almost sounding baffled, “How? By just fucking, s-suffocating me in a crowd? What?”

“You know what? Yes.”

“Karube!”

Karube shrugs and lets go of him to gesture towards the ever-so-threatening crowd of drunken, dancing college students. “Arisu!” he mimics his tone lightheartedly, before walking away from him and disappearing between all the people.

Great. He thinks then that he’s glad he isn’t in college because he could not live a life surrounded by people who enjoy partying so damn much— And clearly, college students do.

He won’t try. He’s not gonna leave, not immediately, because he feels like he’s getting judged enough as is by the few people glancing his way, and he doesn’t want to worsen it by leaving a minute after walking in. Not that he cares, because he doesn’t know a single person here besides Karube, (and Chota, except he has no idea where he even went) so he doesn’t have to worry about seeing any of them ever again. 

But he does care enough to lean against a wall and grab his phone from his pocket instead of leaving, because that’s just Arisu Ryohei. Besides, the prospect of hearing anything irritating come out of the mouths of either his father or brother if he was to come back home right now was much too unpleasant, and he couldn’t just hang outside without his two friends (who are here, in this stupid party.) So playing on a game until the two idiots decide they’ve gotten drunk enough to leave, it is.

Except his phone is knocked out of his hand not even a few seconds after he opens a game. 

Fuck.

“Fuck.” an unfamiliar voice sighs, the sound of footsteps moving to a stop syncing with the one of his phone clattering against the floor. “Sorry.”

He glances up at the cause of his deepening despair and back down to grab his phone, only to find the one who knocked it out of his hand reaching for the fallen device as well.

It ends up with quiet apologies on both ends and awkward fumbling with the phone before everyone is back up straight and Arisu can check if his screen isn’t shattered enough to make him consider jumping out the nearest window.

Except the flashing party lights brighten your face before they do his phone, and he forgets how to function for a good three seconds.

So it takes one minute and thirty-three seconds into a party for Arisu to feel like he might be experiencing love at first sight. “Oh.” he says, stupidly, then clears his throat. Thinks about what to say. Cannot think of what to say. 

Your face doesn’t let any emotions pass through, which is a bit comforting in a way because if he’s embarrassing himself, which he knows he is, you’re not looking at him like it’s the case.

Then you laugh a little. “I’m sorry. Can’t see shit in here.” you say lightly, glancing around for a bit, then back at him, “Are you okay, though?”

“I’m okay.” he says, pressing on a tight smile. Then he takes a deep breath and looks down out of habit, only to be met with a crack on his screen. “Nevermind that, actually.”

You lean a bit closer and sigh again. “Shit. I’m so sorry.” you say, leaning away. You cross your arms and Arisu looks up at your face. You look annoyed for a bit, but it seems like you’re thinking. “I’ll pay…” you trail off. You stay silent for a beat more before suddenly listing things off with your fingers, muttering about things Arisu cannot catch at all with the sound of the music. Curse the music. He wants to listen to you.

Snap out of it, idiot.

You clap your hands together lightly and nod to yourself before looking up at him with a small smile, “I’ll pay for the repairs. My fault.” you say, before laughing sheepishly. You clear your throat and nod your chin towards his phone, “It’s like, uh, working, right? Only the screen’s broken?”

Arisu blinks and shakes his head to focus and presses the button at the side of his phone. It lights up, and he checks the touchscreen before nodding. “Yeah, barely broken.” he says, looking back up at you. The light of his phone before it dims makes your features clearer for a moment again and Arisu swears something is wrong with him. Why is his heart beating so fast? Anxiety?

Anxiety. That has to be it.

“But you really don’t have to—”

“Please,” you shake your head, “I’d feel like I owe you, otherwise. Let me.”

An idea pops into his mind. “Uh, alright.” he says, then prepares himself mentally so the words come out right, “Then can I get your number? In case you, like, run away before paying and I need to find you.”

You chuckle and he breathes out in relief.

“Yeah. I’ll give you my number.” you say, “But you might want to type it in yourself. Clearly it won’t end up any better in my hands.” you gesture towards the phone. Arisu laughs at that and shakes his head, but goes to his contacts app himself nevertheless.

So he gets your phone number, and you’re getting whisked away by two of your friends before he can ask for your name. Part of him feels disappointed you’re gone but he’s also relieved he gets time to breathe and process the whole interaction.

So he… Stays. He tells himself it’s for the same reasons as earlier, but the way his gaze moves towards your direction every other minute tells a different story. Suddenly, a party seems great. He wants to get to that bar and order a good drink that’s definitely alcoholic so he gets enough courage to go back up to you. Anything. Any-fucking-thing.

“Hey, Karube!” he hears someone exclaim, though it’s muffled by just about every other sound at the party. He sees Karube turn towards someone and follows his gaze to you, who’s hand is gesturing for him to come over. You know Karube?! That could be good. Or the absolute opposite. Karube has had ‘flings’ with a few people. The sudden image of his best friend with his apparent new crush makes him uneasy enough to genuinely consider trying to brainwash himself into thinking he never met you.

Either you’re acquaintances, either you two had something at some point. Arisu doesn’t even pretend his game is of any interest to him anymore, focusing only on what you could be saying once his friend walks up to you. You’re gesturing towards the two friends you’d been hanging out with and saying a few words, before Karube takes out a pack of cigarettes and hands you two. His mannerisms seem to be saying ‘that’s all they get’ and you laugh as you hand the two cigarettes to your friends. Karube walks away, seemingly towards Arisu’s direction. Yes! Arisu thinks, perfect.

“Man.” Karube seemingly deflates the instant he walks in his vicinity, a disappointed look that seems to be much more exaggerated than it should be due to the alcohol, “You’re still here?”

“Would I be anywhere else?” Arisu scoffs.

The other man waves his hand back dismissively and sighs, “Alright. Get off your phone for a second.”

“I’m literally not on my phone.”

Karube ignores that and pulls him to his side by his sleeve, “So now, look around. Is there anyone that catches your eye?” he asks, slurring his words just a bit. “There has to be. I know the type of people you’re into. And, well, I’m saying this as your friend so don’t take it badly, but I know you have the typical shut-in look. But trust me, lots of people are into that! Surprisingly enough. Anyways, so don’t…”

Arisu would be lying if he said he was listening to his friend at all. The only thing he can focus on is you, talking and laughing with your friends near the dancefloor. The flashing colored lights only seem to compliment you. Long gone is the idea of them being the worst thing ever and a direct attack to his eyes. No, now everything feels pretty. Everything feels slow, perfectly-paced. The music is background noise and the partygoers are all in the shadows.

Fuck, what the hell?

“— So that’s why I’m trying to help you out.” Karube seems to finish what was a very-long monologue, then pauses for a beat. He shoves Arisu’s shoulder and the latter looks at him with wide eyes. “You weren’t listening at all.”

“No.” Arisu says blankly, only to break out into a laugh and back away when his friend pretends to try and strangle him. His eyes turn back towards your direction without even noticing.

“Huh. Oh! That’s why.” Karube barks out a laugh, grinning, “You got a crush on them?”

Arisu’s gaze moves wildly between the dancefloor and his friend as his lips part and open to speak, only to stretch into a nervous smile when he tries to laugh. “No? What? Who?” he nearly stammers.

Karube turns and yells a name which Arisu figures is yours and he fears he might hear it at least a thousand more times in his thoughts alone. Then he notes that the honorifics he used when calling you felt much too formal, so maybe you’re not as close as Arisu’s nightmarish thoughts imagined. You seemingly notice him and he beckons you over with his hand. He loses sight of you for half a second when you disappear into the crowd, and the rest of the time because he turns his gaze literally anywhere else.

“Yeah?” you ask, a bit breathless, “Oh, phone guy!”

Karube elbows Arisu (less than discreetly) and nods with a tight smile. “Meet Arisu Ryohei.”

“Oh, that’s Arisu?” you say, and the latter looks at you, chuckling nervously. He bites his tongue out of habit and decides he doesn’t need to participate in this conversation yet (Bless the heavens.) “Damn, I just saw Chota earlier, too. Who would’ve thought I’d meet all your friends tonight?”

“It’s more surprising you never ran into each other before. All of you seem to think the bar’s your free lounging space.” Karube scoffs, crossing his arms. “Anyways, you two met?” he looks at Arisu, who forces himself not to gulp.

“Yeah. Briefly.” he says, running a hand up and down the back of his neck, “My phone dropped ‘cuz of them.”

“Sorry.”

Arisu chuckles and shakes his head lightly. “It’s fine.”

“It’s fine, huh?” Karube echoes, squinting at him. He looks at him and tilts his head, prompting the other to laugh and look away, “I see how it is. Anyways, you said you saw Chota, right? I’ll look for him before he drinks too much.” he turns to you again.

“Sure. He’s talking with that girl from my history class. You know the one?”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

He slaps Arisu on the shoulder before he leaves.

And then there were two, huh? Arisu sighs and looks around the same way you do. He really wants to curse out Karube for fucking him over for the second time tonight (bringing him to the party, then leaving him alone with you) but he’ll save that for later. For now, his mind is too busy trying to find a way to make sure this silence doesn’t last long enough to become awkward, so it’s really difficult to think about anything else. You beat him to it.

“Didn’t— Huh. Wasn’t Karube calling me over to ask me something? Or was he just looking for Chota?” you ask, brows knitted in confusion. Arisu hums for a while.

“Uh… Honestly?” he laughs lightly, “No idea.”

You scoff and look at him. Properly. “Arisu Ryohei, huh?”

He finds himself biting back a smile, finally properly hearing you say his name. He nods slowly, then says your name for the first time, tasting the sound of it on his tongue. It’s nice. It’s better than the discomfort he would’ve faced had he decided to actually drink alcohol. Your name would’ve felt uncertain, mixed with the taste of beer. Slurred. And he might not have remembered it as well. Now it just feels… Clear.

“Well, nice to properly meet you.”

“Tell me that when we’re out of this club and the sun is up.” you say, “I mean let’s go out on… Like, let’s, I don’t know, hang out. Karube’s bar. If you're fine with it. When we’re all recovered from the party and stuff. Yeah?”

Something in the way your words come out sounds much more nervous than all the times he heard you talk before, and part of him feels relieved he wasn’t alone in this. Then he actually processes what you said and it’s his turn to struggle to get a coherent response out. Sound cool. Sound cool.

“Yeah!” What the hell, Ryohei?

You laugh, head tilting down for a bit. When you look back up at him, you’re smiling. “It’s a date.”

[gingernut1314]

Just thinking about how...

Gojo is the epitome of the “don’t rush me, Katie. I’m--just not ready.” audio going around Tiktok from Monsters vs. Aliens.

He’s cocky and smug and teasing but as soon as your hands start moving down his strong torso, fingers nimbly beginning to unbutton his pants he’s going to become the biggest nervous wreck you’ve ever seen.

Why?

Thank you for asking I will elaborate. 

I personally believe he’s only been with a small handful of people intimately. 

Most sorcerers view him as this untouchable weapon that they want to use and control. 

Its also my belief that a lot of sorcerers might be too scared of him to even try to approach him in that way if at all. 

Non-sorcerers are an opinion I think he probably explored once but after that once never went back because non-sorcerers and him are just too different. 

Sorcerers and him are just too different. 

There was only one person in his life who understood--who wasn’t too different, but that person turned into a mass-murdering cult leader. 

Gojo wants people to think he’s this super charming sex god. 

When in reality he spends half his time outside of work locked in his room, listening to sad girl music and shoving his face full of sweets while he continues to think about and pine after Geto. 

I half think he wouldn’t even want to know the person's name.

But the other half of me thinks he would want to know your favorite color and the name of your first pet before he even thinks about going to the bedroom with you.

Honestly, I think Gojo’s walls, while very flashy and fun, are very tall and very thick and it takes a lot to even get a peek behind them.

He’s been treated differently his whole life. 

Treated poorly because most think words couldn't possibly hurt him.

And on top of all that, had his heart broken by someone he cared for and trust deeply.

So being intimate with someone is something I think he struggles with. 

A “do they just want to sleep with me cause I’m the strongest” and “What if I get attached” mindset type of guy. 

Gojo was hesitant to get into a serious relationship with you.

You had to fight tooth and nail for a long time to win a place in his heart.

So when you feel his muscles tense and hear him begin to talk on and on about literally anything and everything under the sun, you take a pause. 

Give him a comforting space to talk about his fears and anxieties. 

If you care about him even a smidge, and you care about him so much it hurts, you’ll let him initiate.

You’ll wait for him to be ready and when he is I pinky promise it’ll have been worth it.

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[jakesangel]

the third date - 𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒘𝒃𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒚 𝒌𝒊𝒔𝒔 event request

preview : jake being the most repeectful man you've ever meet, but his needs and clingy wes also interfer

word count + genre : fluff + 918 words ( not proofread but when will it be ㅎㅎ )

warning : none, they kiss tho

jake been a total sweetheart. tho i'm not dating him yet, he never fails to put me and my needs first, respecting my wants to take things slow. he still takes the lead to plan our dates, surprising me but making sure of my date likings.

i'm now here, a beautiful red picnic blanket spread on the green grass, the moon is shining on us with a smiley jake looking at me. what ?, you ask smiling, expecting a flirty joke but you're faced w a genuine jake, nothing you just look really good tonight, he nonchalantly says going back to his desert. he always surprised you, you can never expect what his answers would be or what is about to come. once second he can be serious, then become very flirty or starts w the funniest joke and then becomes very needy, almost puppy like.

he suddenly wipe his lap as he stands and offers his hand to help you get up, would you please, come with me. i want to show you something, he ask with the softest voice. and as much jakes has different sides, he is a trustworthy person, allowing you to feel safe with him. so you take his hands, and follow his lead, without a question.

the both of you walk to the end of the park, the moon shining even more here. what do you wanna show me ? you ask as you look at him. just look ahead, he answers kissing the hand he is holding. so you look back in front of you, and waits until the thing to come.

and that's when you see the the prettiest firework to ever witnessed. not because of the colors or the shapes, but because of the lovely boy by your side, currently stroking your hand with his thumb. he truly put a lot of thoughts into this date, you've only mentioned about doing a night pic nic once, in early talking phase, and tho it's chilly, your heart feels warms. but what you don't know is that, ahold you think about him, looking at the firework, jake, never looked at it. how could he when your surprised face is this lovely ? he wants to tell you that you're pretty one more time, all the time, but right now he keeps it. he will tell you. but later.

as the firework starts to dies down, the night wind makes its appearance. he uses it as an excuse to interlace your fingers together and pulls you closer, are you cold ? he ask, his eyes strained on ur arm's goosebumps. your eyes goes to your locked hands to his concerned face, finally understanding that no one will ever come close to him. his kind and caring behavior made you fall for him, and tonight you want him to stop taking it slow, this night is perfect actually, you tell him, looking up to him because of your closeness. i'm having such a good time, jake. you try to start, but as the wind goes, your hair keeps flying around your face. both of his hands come domestically to the side of your face, rearranging your flying hair. the both of you chuckle, trying to ease the romantic tension between you. he, then tucks, the last loose hair behind your ear and keeps his hands on the side of your face. you stare up at him, as he does so, a fuzzy and imaginary bubble, forming around you.

he can only think of kissing you, but he also want to be respectful and keep your steady and slow pace. but seeing your round eye, expectly waiting for him to do something, your hands unconsciously coming to his chest, he brings your face closer and kiss your forehead, a good comprise for each other needs. he then pulls you even closer, hugging you, a coping mechanism to control himself. i'm sorry, i couldn't stop myself. i hope i’m not making uncomfortable, you softly hear, his arms blocking his voice. but you can hear his hope that you aren't mad at him or uncomfortable and you just can't believe he is truly a total sweetheart. you wanted him to kiss you, but he still respected you. you've got yourself a man, so willing to protect and respect you and your needs. tho it is the bare minimum, he does it with so much care and perhaps love. you can only give up with the slow pace, you once wanted. so you back up a bit, just enough to be able to look at him. jake, you've been amazing. you dont have to apologize for anything, you reassure him. i actually wanted you to kiss me, you shyly admit, breaking the eye contact. you wanted me ... to kiss you... ?ᩚ he excitedly says, his puppy tails wagging, can i still ? he hurrydly and expendly says, showing you the brightest smile of his. you can only look back to him, smiling back at him. and the second you nod, he grabs your waist and you cheek, and softly dives in. the kiss is soft and tender, just like how jake is. you wrap your arm around his neck, a hand on his nap, fingers on his hair, making him smile in the kiss.

you're the one who stop the kiss, but he still keeps you close, his forehead coming to yours, god, he contently sigh before, did i told you you looked pretty tonight ?

notes : hai anon bby >< i loved your request so so much, i had so munch fun writing it, i did it in one go n almost 1k words ?ᩚ i hope it's more enjoyable to reading than to writeᵎᵎ lemme know <3

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨🍓୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ tag list : @dreamiestay @jakesprincess1

perm tag list : @allurecile @luvj4key @stwrjvke @amouriu @neos127 @goldenretrieverjakezgirlbaby @jaeyunpinkyring @pockettwinzz @jwsdoll @heeheeswifey @sjylouvre @txnwvc @oopshee @luvlyhee @en-ner-jay @en-chantedtomeetyou @erenmyman @driedflowwr @hoonion @jlheon

[r3starttt]

RIGHT TIME

Spider man! Dina

Before she can reply anything back you’re already sneaking out of your house for probably the third time this week. Black converse hitting the dirt, a baggy hoodie that was actually Dina’s and didn’t really cover you from the slight cold breeze, and some money that you’ve been saving from lunch all crumpled in the back of your jeans, just in case.

She’d insisted on going to your place but you didn’t want your parents to notice so you’d agreed on seeing each other at a small park near your house.

Everything’s quiet, there’s just the constant sounds of the city in movement. The sky slowly fading into a complete dark blue color tone and the moon getting shiner along with the small stars that looked like tiny dots in the sky.

The squeak of the swings and your feet scraping the ground stop when you see her in the distance. She waves once she noticed you too.

“I have the feeling that you’re always on your way here before you even ask” she chuckles, walking towards the swing next to you “What if I am?” you laugh back, shifting your eyes towards her and immediately looking at her with pure confusion.

“Why’re you looking at me like that?” Dina was biting her bottom lip, her smile was slightly curved almost as a smirk, she had something to bother you about “I can’t stop thinking about the spider man thing, you’re ridiculous” you immediate burst into laughter, hitting her shoulder gently “Dina just forget it I was clearly joking”

“Oh really? Because your confession seemed pretty serious” you just roll your eyes “I really wonder how long have you been thinking about him, because you never just tell me_” “Dina, stop it. I’m not gonna give you details if that what you want”

“Oh so there’s details? I though it was just a random thought that occurred to you today” she raised her eyebrows. You knew she wasn’t gonna stop any soon, if she ever forget about it.

You groaned back, covering your face with your hands for some seconds “why do you care so much?” “You really wanna know?” she laughs at the small slap that you gave yourself as you let go of your face, hitting your legs in pure annoyment

“You’re not gonna believe me anyway” you don’t say anything back, but your eyes are basically speaking for you so there’s no need really “remember how you said that I was probably on my way before?” you nod, confused on what she tried to say

She extends her arm, aiming to a small can of coke next to a trash can; suddenly shooting her webs and brings the Can to her hand. Your eyes open wide in pure amused, mouth partly open and heart racing so much your heartbeat could almost be heard.

“I’m spider man” the way she says it so casually makes you laugh nervously as your eyes are still locked on her wrists, trying to make any of this make sense.

“How the fuck am I not suppose to believe in that when I just saw webs coming from your arm”

“From my hand-well, my wrist”

“And you’re fucking casual about it?”

She just shrugged.

And now realization was hitting you. So many thoughts on your mind at once.

“I thought it was the right time to tell you since you practically told me how he made you-“

your hands covered her mouth, completely ashamed “stop” her hands move on top of yours, gently taking them away from her face and pulling them closer, placing them on top of her knees.

“At least I know you won’t hate me” a small chuckle escapes from her mouth. She looked so normal about this whole situations but in fact she’d been overthinking about this since she first came, wondering what your reaction would be; so the look on your face, all the mix of emotions you were feeling, it made her feel good, less stressed.

“I would never it’s just” you sighed “I just told you how I think he’s hot” both of you laughed awkwardly “Well it’s not like you’ve never tell me that I’m hot so…” “Ugh just shut up”

You try to move your hands away from her, and she lets you; shooting her webs at the swing to pull it closer to her and cupping your face with her hands, pressing her lips on yours in a small sweet kiss. Just enough for what you both needed.

[dejinerate]

His Muse

Pairing: Hyunjin x Reader (Fem)

Brief summary: Hyunjin has a *special* art project in mind with you, and he needs your help desperately.

Story contains: explicit sexual themes, brat, dom, self recording

Rating: SMUT, MA

18+/MINORS DNI

It’s a lazy afternoon, a warm and slow Autumn day. Your eyelids start to close as you rest on the couch, waiting to succumb to the nap that’s about to overtake you. Today was such a cozy day. No tasks needing done, no plans for once, and no chores needing completed. It would’ve been a perfect day…  Except Hyunjin wasn’t here. Early in the morning, he said he had to run a few errands, but… he was far too excited when he said that. You decided to let him have his fun though, seeing that excitement means whatever it is, is important. Noticing he was in a rush, you didn't ask any questions. He kissed your cheek and practically ran out the door.

 “I’ll be back soon, I promise!! Wait for me!” 

It was getting close to evening. You don’t usually worry about him, he texts you if something is wrong. You sigh, shifting your position on the couch and ready to take a short nap, as that would make time pass by quicker. 

Your phone pings. 

“I’m headed home, I’m so sorry I took so long! I have so much to show you! Get dressed. I have a surprise.”

A surprise? Well, surprises are always welcome.  You text him back:

“What’s the theme for the evening? You always know what’s best to pick.” 

The response is almost instant and your phone pings, but this time, it's an audio message. You listen to him speak as you can hear his fast footsteps,

“Wear that one dress I love so much, baby. I have an idea. Can you wear a robe over it, though? I'll explain why when I get there. I just.. won't be able to focus.. and I need to focus, I need your help with something. Please do as I say and be good for me.. I know you wanna tease me, brat. And trust me, it always fucking works... You drive me crazy. This is important to me though. Behave for me, just this once? ” 

You huff at his response but bite your lip, knowing he’s right. He knows you so well though, he knows how much you enjoy teasing him while you wear that dress. You think about disobeying, but.. , he really does seem excited about something, and you want him to have his fun, too. He never really pleads like this. Mentioning that it was important to him means serious business.

“I’ll behave, Hyun.” you text back.

Another audio message pops up.

“Good girl. I’ll be home in 20 minutes.”

Well, so much for napping. That woke you right up as if you just chugged an entire vat of coffee. Excited, you rush to the bedroom, immediately knowing the dress he spoke of. He always had such good taste in fashion. He frequently would give suggestions for what to wear and would help you choose outfits, and he often liked to match you in colors and styles when you went out together. You trust his judgment when he tells you to put something on. He knows your body and what looks good clinging on your curves. You find the garment, a cream colored silk dress with tiny straps, that bows at the cleavage, and clings at the hips. The way the fabric shifts in the light looks like flowing liquid. It’s such a luxurious piece. It’s a show stopping high end designer brand dress that Hyunjin bought you for your first anniversary. He spoils you so much, but he especially spoiled you that day. The dress wasn’t cheap by any means. After an entire day of making meaningful memories, you went shopping together, and he was the one that spotted the dress and picked it out. As soon as he saw it on you, he told you to get changed, knowing you didn’t need to try on anything else. He’s been obsessed with it ever since. He makes sure it’s well taken care of, as it always gets professionally dry cleaned after it’s been worn. 

 It’s such a flattering shape. It really highlights the plumpness of your chest, the curve of your ass, and the dips of your hips. It’s… extremely short. It rests right below the bottom of your cheeks. When you wear this in public, Hyunjin likes to drape whatever coat he’s wearing on your shoulders, claiming you as his. He finds a lot of satisfaction seeing you in that provocative dress with his jacket, which is far too big on you. His protective instincts kick in, knowing how gorgeous you are. Don’t get me wrong, he absolutely loves showing you off in public, knowing how good the two of you look together. But this dress is his weakness. This is a dress he only lets you wear when he reserves an entire restaurant for a private dining experience. He wants to be the only one to see you this way, and he’s extremely possessive when you wear it. It’s surprising he hasn’t done any damage to it yet. Just thinking about what the night could possibly entail leaves you so pleasantly anxious. You feel your stomach fluttering, knowing he’ll be driven mad over the sight of you soon. 

As you slip the dress on, a thought comes to you. Though you have to wear a robe when he gets home, he never said anything about…. Underwear. You giggle to yourself, and take off both the bra and panties you usually wear for this. He can suffer tonight. You’ll make sure of that. Satisfied with your choice, you grab your house robe and put it on, then get to work on your hair and make up. You curl your long hair with just a few waves, and you keep it nice and soft and elegant with the make up look, nothing too dark. While you’re putting on the finishing touches of mascara, you hear the door open.

“Baby, c’mere!” 

Your heart leaps at the happiness in his voice, and you run to the living room to greet him.

He has lots of bags in his hands, but also has a camera strapped around his neck. You don’t remember him leaving home earlier with a camera… 

You give him a quick kiss to greet him, and he puts the bags down on the dining table. 

“So, I got an email this morning that the brand new camera I’ve been waiting for was finally in stock! It was at that one store down the street that we went to that one time, they have so many cool lenses… I picked up a new wide angle lens. I was so excited that I couldn’t wait to try it out. I've been running around the city all day, taking photos… I can’t wait to show you and see what you think. I took quite a few that you’d like. Oh! After I got done taking photos, I went to the art store on the way home and bought more canvases! I think i’m going to try acrylic or watercolor paint this time, but I couldn't decide, so I kinda went overboard and bought everything…” 

You giggle at him, he’s truly nerding out right now, and you love that he can show you his excitement over his hobbies. You both are artists, so it’s a shared love that you two bond over. You mainly do photography, while his normal medium is painting and sketching. He recently got into photography, so to see him so inspired to create art just melts you. Hyunjin glows when his face shows he loves doing something. 

“I’m happy for you, Hyunnie. I bet you took some amazing photos today.” 

After he’s taken the camera off his neck and set it down, he walks towards you and wraps you in his warm embrace. He smells like.. the smell of outside. He smells like the scent of leaves and crisp Autumn air. You embrace him in return, and he puts a hand on your cheek and starts giving you happy little kisses as he mumbles against your lips.

“I-” kiss  “have-” kiss  “an-”  kiss “-idea.” 

You laugh at his assault of kisses, returning his enthusiasm. 

“Tell me, I’ve been dying to hear.” 

He pulls away from your lips as he holds you around your waist. He’s gazing intently at your face, looking at your eyes. He looks a little nervous now. 

“I want to photograph you tonight. It’s been a long time since we’ve gotten to be creative together. I want to paint the pictures I take of you.” 

You smile back at him, “That sounds like a ton of fun actually, where do you wanna go? The leaves are so pretty this time of year, the reds and oranges just now started to show, we could go to the park…”

“No,” he interrupts you, “we’re not leaving the house tonight.” 

Oh.

He continues, “I want to photograph you… in the shower. With that dress on. The new lens I bought is perfect for water shots.” 

Oh. 

The look in his eyes is pleading. That definitely took you by surprise. He must really want this. He doesn’t really ever ask you for anything, he’s usually carefree about choices between you two and if you say yes or no to ideas. But… he must be craving this. You never know how an artist will envision a scene. It seems like he’s been envisioning this, a lot, and the desire is blatantly apparent in his eyes as they search for your answer. He notices you hesitating.  

“I’ll buy that dress again for you, I promise. Ask me for anything. It’s yours. Please do this for me, baby. I need to paint how beautiful you are.” 

Well fuck, when he puts it that way, how can you say no? He asked so nicely, too. 

“Let’s do it, Hyunnie. You’ll have to direct me though, okay? I want you to get the right shot.” 

His face lights up and he swiftly picks you up, you shriek at the surprise and your legs automatically lock around his waist so you’re held securely. His large hands support your legs while he carries you to the bathroom, as he’s profusely thanking you for being open minded to the idea of being so vulnerable in front of the camera for him.

He sets you down on your feet in the bathroom and says, “Now turn the shower on for me, my gorgeous girl. Go ahead and take the robe off. I’m gonna go grab the camera, and grab the music speaker as well. We should play some music, maybe it’ll help us both relax.” He scurries off, and you giggle at his chaotic retreat. You do as he says though, shrugging off the robe as you turn the shower on. It can’t get too steamy in the bathroom, or else it’ll fog the lens, so you leave the water on lukewarm. The main bathroom of the home is huge, it’s actually quite gorgeous. The walls are white and the flooring is white tile as well. The lights in the room create a warm glowing ambience, and there’s large windows right before the view of the shower.. The shower itself has clear glass shower doors, and is big and spacious. There’s a huge tub in here as well, with enough room for two. Golden hour lighting is currently filtering into the room, the sunset beginning to peak outside. 

Hyunjin comes back in the bathroom, concentrated on setting up the equipment. He looks up at you, finally seeing you in the dress. He takes a moment to admire you, his eyes slowly drifting up and down on your body, head to toe. His eyes rest on your breasts. They widen in realization. He knows you aren’t wearing a bra underneath… You tease him.

“I’m not wearing panties, either.” 

He makes eye contact with you. His gaze is full of heat, and you see him blush. He looks away, a little embarrassed that he's already getting worked up so easily, and has to push down the growth currently happening in his pants. “Fuck, You little brat... You had to go and tease me already, huh?." He looks at you again, biting his lip. "This is gonna be…. difficult for me.” He swallows, you can tell he's struggling while he's trying to gain self control.

You smirk at him. 

“Good.” 

He groans. 

You turn around and walk towards the shower, waiting patiently for his instructions. You look at him, tilting you head with feigned innocence and ask,

“Are we ready to get started, Hyunjinnie?”

 He loves that specific nickname. You know this. You wanted him to suffer tonight, afterall.

He lets out a frustrated breath, and mutters, "Ugh, fuck..." he sits on his chair and closes his eyes, bringing his hand up to his face to hide it from view, seemingly at war with himself.

He commands, quietly, "Don’t step in yet. Come here for a second, baby.” 

You smirk and obey for once, and he beckons you to sit on his lap. He envelops your frame, his large hands gliding along the silk dress, relishing the feel of the fabric under his fingers. He reaches for your face, one hand on the back of your neck and the other cupping your cheek as he pulls you in for a hot, lingering kiss. You whimper at the intensity of his desire, you can tell how bad he’s already burning for you. His head dips down to your neck, and he languidly kisses it with an open mouth, his tongue brushing against your skin. He kisses his way close to your ear and whispers, “Thank you for doing this, sweetheart. You’re gonna do so good for me, I can already tell… you're too beautiful, you know that? My gorgeous, perfect baby...”  His voice is low and deep, and the heat between your legs aches. You can tell how aroused he is, you feel him hard and hot through his pants as you sit on his lap. You groan in response, ready to just forget the entire photoshoot, but he gently kisses your neck for one last time before pulling away. 

“You ready, pretty girl?” 

Head hazy, you nod and shakily stand back up. 

“I’m gonna miss that dress” he whispers.

You laugh, knowing how conflicted he must be that this will most likely ruin such an expensive, delicate piece of clothing. He must've been saying his final goodbyes to it while you were on his lap.

You nervously step into the shower, and he starts up some music. He turns on some slow, seductive tunes. You understand the mood he’s trying to go for. He wants sensual. 

“Tell me what to do, Jinnie.” You say quietly.

His voice is gentle. “Alright pretty girl, go ahead and step under the stream with just the dress.. Hold off on dipping your hair and face, let’s keep that dry just for the time being.” 

You obey and follow his direction, and the water hits the silk dress. The fabric immediately clings to your body, the light cream color of the dress turning completely transparent as it gets wet. Goosebumps show up on your skin at the change in temperature, and you feel your nipples harden under the wet silk. You pose for him and look directly at the camera, and you can see him peek up from the camera to look at you, in awe of the beautiful image in front of him. You look like a marble statue of a goddess, the way the fabric clings onto you, the water accentuating every detail of you. 

“Fuck, baby, you’re so gorgeous. All for me. So fucking gorgeous.... I’ll never get enough of you.” 

He shifts around the glass doors, getting the shots he wants as he directs you to tilt your head, raise your arms, close your eyes… 

You get fully immersed in the mood, the creativity affecting you, no longer feeling nervous or shy. You slip the straps of the dress off your shoulders and look up at him through the camera, keeping your face as sultry as possible. The shutter clicks away as he goads you on with encouragement. Feeling satisfied with those shots, you ask him, 

“Should I dip my head now?” 

“Yes, love. God, please do.” 

You slowly place your head under the stream of the showerhead, as the water drips down your face and hair. It finally hits you mentally, how erotic this is, how incredibly sensual and hot this is, and you feel so completely powerful in this moment. Your eyes lock on Hyunjin through the glass door, and he can tell immediately that your energy has changed. Your gaze is burning with fire. You smirk at him, and your hands glide slowly down your body to touch yourself on top of the soaked dress. 

Hyunjin forgets he has a camera for a moment, entranced by your movements. He can’t look away. He stumbles a bit which makes him remember he’s supposed to be taking photos, and reorients himself, knowing he has to capture the moment correctly. He praises you.

“That’s it baby, that’s my perfect girl. Get into it. You know how fucking hot you are, don’t you? Be a pretty little slut for daddy. You do such a good job for me, my little brat.”

Ah. The magic words. 

You moan and close your eyes as one hand touches your breast, while the other hand drifts down to your aching heat. You arch against the glass shower wall, giving him a full view. Your hair is chaotic, strands of it plastered on your face and your shoulders, and you feel suffocated. 

You need to be naked. There’s too much on you. You need to take it off. Right now. 

Knowing he’s had enough shots of the dress, you grab the hem of the dress, and start to peel the fabric off of you, grimacing at just how stuck it is on your body. You finally pull it over your head and drop the dress on the shower floor. Finally free of the fabric, you tilt your head back under the shower, letting the water cascade again over your long hair and fully exposed body. You prop yourself up against the wall and pose beautifully, but there's no sound of the camera clicking.

You look at Hyunjin, and the poor man looks so dazed. He looks like he forgot he was there... his mind looks lost in another world, as if you’re not real right in front of him. His own personal strip performance. He’s so entranced in watching you, eyes wide open, absentmindedly touching himself over his jeans, camera slack in the other hand. 

“Focus, Hyunnie.” 

That snaps him out of it and he growls, picking up the camera begrudgingly, and you can tell he won’t hold out much longer without touching you. You go back to posing for him, completely wet and naked, pressing against the glass, making it fog up. 

“That’s it, baby, my God.” You hear the shutter of the camera work fast. 

You press your nipples against the door and lick the glass, knowing he’s about to go insane getting that shot on camera. You hear the shutter go nuts, as Hyunjin struggles to keep concentrated. 

“We’re done,” he commands. “Out. Now. I need you, baby.”

You need him just as badly. You turn off the water, completely satisfied, knowing you did your job well. 

When you step out of the shower, he has a towel ready for you. He wraps your body in it, and as soon as it’s covering you he captures your mouth in a hard, searing kiss that makes your head spin. He’s ravenous. Goosebumps erupt on your body, making you shiver. 

He pulls away, ready to take you right then and there, but notices you’re shivering…

“Let me go get another towel for your hair, little baby, you’re soaking wet.” Without second thought, he leaves the bathroom to grab a fresh towel from the laundry room. Hot and heavy Hyunjin always turns you on, but considerate and loving Hyunnie makes the insatiable fire even worse. You shut off the music, and spot his camera sitting on the chair where he just was.

An idea…. hits you. 

With the towel still wrapped around your body, you grab the camera, and walk into the bedroom.

You place the camera down on the nightstand. You begin drying your body off when Hyunjin walks into the room, towel in his hand. 

“Let me.” 

The look on his face is full of love, and he walks over and begins to dry you off, putting slow kisses on your neck and shoulders as he does it, taking his time.

“You did so good for me in there, baby. Those shots were amazing. That was absolutely perfect. Let Daddy take care of you now, pretty girl.” 

He picks you up gently, his strong arms holding you effortlessly, and lays you down on your back, head cradled by the pillow. He crawls on the bed, hovering over your body. His gaze on you is soft and needy.

The feeling of anticipation runs through you as he opens the towel, exposing your naked body to him. The cold air hits your semi-damp skin, and he sees you shiver. He sits up quickly to take off his shirt, then lowers himself back down to you, engulfing you in his warm skin. He lays there for a moment, letting you steal his heat. He peppers your collarbone with gentle kisses, and begins to slowly make his way down. Stopping at your breasts, he gives both nipples a kiss, and continues to drag his mouth down the front of you. He’s immersed in you, completely, eyes closed in bliss, kissing down your stomach. He drifts his large hands down your naked thighs while he kisses down your navel, until his hands reach your knees.

He pushes your legs up, fully exposing your aching heat to his lustful eyes. You’re completely soaking wet for him.. 

"Aww, brat... Look at you." He bites his lip as he admires your cunt, speaking in his teasing, deep voice. "This little pussy wants me so badly... You need Daddy, don't you? Look how pretty this pussy is, dripping wet and ready for me... you're a mess, little baby. We can't have that now, can we?"

He lowers his face to your cunt, making you squirm with his hot breath.

While he’s not looking at you, you realize…. Now’s your chance. 

You try your best to not shift much, as you grasp for the camera right beside you on the night stand. You quietly turn it on, and begin to set up the settings. His mouth is kissing on the innermost part of your thighs, then glides to the outside of your lips, completely unaware of what you’re plotting. You hold the camera up to your face, and once you see the view in front of you through the lens it sets your body completely on fire. He looks so good, eating you.

You feel his mouth capture your clit. The moan you let out is straight up gutteral, and you click the shutter button of the camera. 

Hyunjin snaps his gaze to you, without moving his head from your pussy.. His eyes widen when he realizes you have the camera out.  

“Keep going, Hyunnie. It’s my turn. Make me yours.” You breathe at him. 

“Fuck, pretty girl. Are you sure?” He hesitates, though you can tell how badly he wants to continue.

“I need to watch you fuck me with that mouth, Daddy.”

His eyes roll back as he groans into your cunt, his tongue swiping the entire length of you from your entrance to your clit.

He looks up at you while his mouth is lingering against your pussy and gently spreads your legs as far as they can go, giving him maximum exposure for his mouth. "My naughty little brat..." he whispers, dipping his head back down to worship you.

He begins to devour you with a loving passion, his tongue swirling as he sucks the sensitive bud of your clit, his lips gliding against you, making you dizzy. He knows exactly how you like it, and there's nothing else in this world that he loves more than making you feel good. He's so experienced to your pleasure... He would spend days doing this if he could. You begin taking photos of him this way, trying not to let your head fall back and give in to the overwhelming sensations of greedy need and lust. You moan his name, and his gaze sets back on you. He looks into the camera with blazing hot eye contact, as he languidly makes love to you with his mouth. It’s deliberately slow. He wants you to capture him devouring you. You shakily take the photos of him lapping at your cunt, barely able to concentrate on the framework, and you see his eyes smirk at you. He's watching you fumble with the camera, he knows you're struggling to focus on your task. He chuckles against you, and suddenly, you feel his tongue plunge inside your desperate little cunt. Your body flushes all over, and you arch your back, begging for him to take more of you. 

“More, daddy, please. I need you. I need more. Please.”

He sits up a little and takes one hand off of your leg, and drags it down your heat to wet his fingers. 

“Whatever you want, brat.” 

He plunges two fingers into you, making you cry out in relief, while his tongue is still sucking on your clit. You forget the camera, finally letting yourself cave into the desire, and throw your head as your hand searches to grip his hair. You grind yourself into his face. He figures out the tempo of your hips and begins moving his fingers to the speed of your needy little thrusts. His mouth never wavers, as he moans greedily onto your clit, enjoying the fact that he’s driving you crazy. 

He can feel you tighten as you get closer to your release, and he breaks away from your clit for just a moment to whisper against your pussy. “Come for Daddy, baby.” He dives back in, licking circles on your clit, keeping the same rhythm as his fingers as they curl inside of you, diving in and out of you, hitting you deep. You feel your orgasm come on fast. 

“Fuck, Hyun, I can’t hold on!” 

Your breath heaves as you close your eyes, and white hot heat sends ripples through your body, pleasure shaking you at the core. You cry out, locking your legs around his head, riding the high, his name tumbling from your lips over and over. 

He smirks up at you, "You always taste so sweet, baby. Good girl. You love when I make you come like that, don't you?"

He kisses your thighs before he raises up, and you open your eyes to take sight of him. His cheeks are red, his mouth is drenched, his hair is disheveled, his chest is flushed with red. 

His eyes are hungry. 

He makes quick work of the rest of his clothing, shrugging off his jeans and underwear, and crawls back on the bed to you. This time, he grabs your thighs, and pulls your entire body to the edge of the bed, with full force. He looks up at you, and leans down to kiss you. The taste of you is heavy on his lips, and he opens your mouth, hungry for your tongue on his. You groan into each other's mouths. Kissing is always so easy, so effortless. So entirely consuming. He pulls away from your mouth, but keeps his face close to yours as he positions himself at your entrance. His head drops to your neck, as he teases his tip against you, bucking his hips and shivering just at feeling how wet you are. He must’ve been suffering, badly. Poor Hyunnie. He's so desperate for you. Right before he buries himself into you, you put a hand on his chest and stop him. 

He looks at you, eyes questioning what’s wrong. 

You smile at him mischeviously, holding his face and kissing his cheeks, then bring your mouth against his ear and whisper,

“Grab the camera, Daddy.” 

He pulls his face up abruptly and looks at you with a burning look you’ve never seen. Without a word, he lifts up and grabs the camera where it was laying, and turns it on. 

He looks at the view of you underneath him through the camera lens, your body waiting for him as your legs are spread open, as his cock rests against your entrance. He growls at the view, your hair a damp mess, make up strewn on your face, cheeks flush with red, eyes full of fire for him. Nipples taught, body writhing. You decide to hold up your legs for him, grabbing your thighs underneath the knees, opening your cunt farther open for the camera, and for his viewing pleasure. 

“Holy fuck, baby, I’m gonna lose my MIND.” The camera clicks. He grabs the base of his cock and lines it up with your center. He’s taking photos as he slowly moves, capturing every moment. You both moan at how fucking naughty and erotic this is. He pushes himself inside of you, his eyes rolling back, as he releases a loud, deep groan. He looks back at the view of being inside of you. He says your name, completely incoherent, as he tries to take a picture of him buried in you, the sheer eroticism of it making his hips buck without his control. Praises fall off his lips. 

“Your daddy’s perfect little slut, aren’t you? Look at the camera, baby. Such a mess underneath me. You’re mine, brat. I own this pussy, do you understand? I own you, pretty girl. Forever.” 

“I’m all yours, Hyunjinnie, you own me.” You moan breathlessly at him, needy and whining at how deep he is inside of you, and he takes a photo as your mouth opens as he starts to thrust at a faster speed. 

He puts the camera down, and grabs your hips as he fully immerses himself in eye contact with you again. He’s biting his lip as he watches you bounce underneath him, your tits moving with every thrust, as he's letting go of the primal vocals he’s been holding back all evening. He’s succumbing to the desire completely as he loses full control, while you feel your cunt tighten again, your orgasm coming dangerously fast. His gaze darkens as he feels you tighten around him, and you know he’s close as well. He lowers his entire body onto yours, sloppily kissing your neck as his thrusts are relentless, making you a whining mess of nerves. 

His breathing quickens, “Ah fuck, I’m cumming baby, cum for daddy, I need you, pretty girl.” He breathes out, his release hitting him fast, and you feel your muscles tighten and explode as you cry out and come with him.

He collapses, trying to hold some of his weight off of you, and kisses your lips sweetly, his hair and body completely drenched in sweat, placing his forehead against yours. Exhaustion hitting him, he shifts his body and nestles himself beside you, grabbing you up, placing gentle kisses on your shoulder while whispering against your skin... He breaks the comfortable silence, his mind a messy drabble of words.

"That was... I can't... baby, do you know how I love you? The ways that I love you... " his voice is hoarse, emotion evident that the experience you just had was a lot for him to register. "I've never felt more alive than when I'm doing... exciting new things with you. I want to keep doing all the spontaneous moments, all the time." His lips are a bit garbled as he's speaking against your skin, too tired to move his position. "Being with you is my favorite thing, being in our own little world here... Life doesn't get better than this." he trails off, as he dances his fingers up your neck and into your hair, sweetly moving some strands to tuck behind your ear.

You look at him and smile softly, the intimacy of love in his eyes making your heart do flips. "You're my sweet Hyunjinnie... " you say. "I've never loved anyone like you, everything that you are is a gift to me. I love you so much it hurts, Hyun. I want to do new things with you, always. You are my entire heart."

You lay there, spent and exhausted. Realizing what you’ve just done together, you giggle to yourself, and grab the camera. You turn it on to look at the photos that were taken this evening. You angle your body to where Hyunjin can see the screen as well, and you start going through the photo gallery. 

“Oh my god, baby. These are so incredible. I can’t believe we just did that..” 

He snuggles against your neck. 

“We look fucking good together. And we look good, fucking.” and you hum in response, agreeing with him. You feel him harden again as he spoons you, each photo turning him on all over again.

He perks up inquisitively, laughing, realizing this entire project was so he could paint a portrait. 

“How am I supposed to paint all of these? I can’t choose a favorite. That’s impossible. I guess I’m gonna have to buy some more canvases….”