#people who make their sketchbooks look pretty: how

[neurotypical-sonic]

some shitty low quality sketches I'm fond of

[k6tzie]

COD P☆RN LINKS | PT. 3

ghost: always so quiet and reserved, seeing you like this is refreshing. so humane having ur guts rearranged after doubting your lieutenants skills! dove, you're so needy. but luckily for you, you have a patient, big bf came back from prices' baby shower now u and si want a baby of ur own, but u can't wait:( doughy ass bouncing on his long cock that no one's sucked in over a year, thankfully now ur here! sharing the captains daughter with soap<3 trusting is hard for him, so once he has you, he doesn't wanna let go warm winter fuck with ur gentle boy price: once you taught olderbf!price how to make hotter videos, he thinks he's so much cooler but that old man lives within him💔i mean look how he's holding the phone! you feel a big, throbbing thing in your tummy, hopefully he doesn't press down on it D: when u took him to meet ur parents, you just looked too good not to fuck afterwards :( as much as he loves his quiet girls, he can't say no to a bubbly one night stand now can he he didn't wanna have to do this but this IS what bad girls get... dadsfriend!price taking you upstairs during the bbq. there's so many people so no one will hopefully notice ur gone... soap: totally something soap would do, fucking you levitating 😭 first time having a crush this intense, taking sneaky photos of you, drawing you in his sketchbook, leaving you little gifts anonymously - now that you gave him a chance, he's too shocked to even do anything! honestly his dream is hot gf x loser guy he's a messy boy who likes his sex quick! so so much cum dripping out, it's like your boys' in heaven filthy gym partner can't keep his hands to himself only one person can eat you this well when you're sick, soap! gaz: your drunk sex was so good, you won't forget it even when you're sober <3 appreciating that pussy with the love and tongue it deserves so wet and tight like ur ex boyfriend did nothing at all smh, must've been tiny deeeeep in ur gfs womb! pretty boy barely ever gets angry, but when price has been on his back the whole week, and now you're giving him attitude - he can't take it anymore! hot belly bulge - who would've thought from the serene, goofy guy? graves: ah, so THAT'S how you passed recruitment i see, interesting... what a baby, never been with a real woman. actually a very soft, sensual man. don't mistake him as rough cuz of how he acts at work lucky shadow of the week gets to record the barracks bunny and graves kept trying to draw milk out of you but he didn't realise not everyone just...lactates :(he can't stop rewatching this video y'all took, how your greedy pussy just swallows his dick whole :o purposely just teasing you so he can see u angry konig: an efficient way to wake up his beautiful baby✨ his cold tongue and your warm socks make an interesting contrast🤔 he caught you masturbating all by yourself and you didn't seem to reach ur full potential :( loser!konig coded, once he finally gets his rough hands on you, it's hard letting a beauty like you go ruined ur cute little panties smh, greedy big boy mean colonel punishing his secret fuck buddy after he found out you've started talking to another person💢 bonus!!: surprise ;)

@xtrrdnrypotato @livingdead-g1rl

[reignpage]

Piercer!Geto

Ducati 350 Desmo : rev my engine

Contents: 18+ mdni, huge foreplay, teasing, insight into that one text between modern au!Suguru and reader, inappropriate workplace behaviour, not proofread (literally wrote this just now and felt an urge to post immediately)

A giggle escapes you. 

Your boss just texted you to come to his office for a consultation on a possible tattoo. And you’re biting your lip, walking over to his door, weaving around the different stations of your fellow co-workers who simply grin at you. They have eyes, they can see he treats you differently, see that he’s softer, more patient around you. 

And they definitely see the blush that stains your cheeks every time he winks at you or breezes past. You just hope they can’t see you press your thighs together when he places his large hand on the small of your back and whisper an ‘excuse me, pretty’ in your ear.

It’s a little silly to be getting so worked up over your boss — your sister would certainly not approve, but she’s not much better than you — but your boss is tall, dark and handsome. Anyone in your position would feel the same way. 

You hear him say ‘come in’ when you knock, so you slip inside and close the door with a nervous smile. Suguru is sat behind his desk, hair tied up into a bun at the back, flicking through a portfolio. His leather jacket is strung on the back of his chair, tight black shirt clinging to his lean but muscular body in a way that makes you jealous. 

“Hey, boss.” Your voice has a slight waver to it, a nervous tremor that catches his attention. He looks up through his thick lashes, a small smile pulling at his lips. Beckoning you to sit across from him, he leans back in his chair, seemingly taking in your figure. 

Thank goodness you stole your sister’s pink sweater with a low v-line dipping to your cleavage. The simmering look he gives you makes facing her wrath so worth it. 

Sitting down, you clasp your hands in your lap. You’ve been in his office many times, but those were quick moments: giving him coffee, informing him of an emergency or a sudden cancellation, grabbing something from his shelves. But you’ve never quite sat and basked in the slight vanilla smell in the air, never been on the opposite side of his desk like a client, and you’ve certainly never faced his flirtations head-on like this. 

Suguru sits up, leaning on his elbow and tilting his head at you with a patient smile. A lock of hair follows with him and you want to feel it. Gosh, his hair looks so pretty. You wonder if it’s as silky as it looks. 

“How have you been finding working here, Y/n? I hope you’re finding it easy enough to balance your studies with your part-time job.”

You pout at the paternal tone he’s taken on. “It’s great. Everyone is so nice. No matter how many times I mess up, no one gets mad at me. Everyone’s so patient, I really feel at home.”

He nods, smile widening ever so slightly. “Good, good. I’m glad to hear that.”

The pink polish on your pointer finger is flaking off as you scratch. You’re fidgeting, suddenly feeling alert and aware of every movement, every shuffle outside the door as people walk past. It feels wrong to be hidden away like this with everyone still working just behind that door. It isn’t even locked. 

“So,” Suguru begins, a teasing lilt to his voice, “you want a tattoo.”

“I want to be tattooed by you,” you hurriedly correct. Why did you do that? That sounded so desperate. You wince but he only smiles wider, like he knows exactly what you’re thinking. 

You’re too obvious. 

Suguru opens a drawer and places the leather sketchbook you found the other day. It’s thick, with scraps of paper poking out, and held together by an elastic band. The only thing in his entire office, and in his entire studio, that is messy. It feels scandalous, like you saw a peek through his soul and he had let you. Your heart clenches. So does your pussy. 

Nope.

Behave, you tell your body.

When you catches his gaze, he motions you over to his side. So you stand, pulling your short skirt down as discreetly as possible, and round his desk. This feels even more scandalous. You’re on the boss’ side, seeing the world from his perspective. He’s still sat down whilst you stand beside him, shuffling on your feet awkwardly. 

Then he pushes his chair back ever so slightly to give you space to lean forward and look at the page he’s opened. It’s of the dragon you saw. A pearly white, elegant looking creature with captivating yellow eyes. Its body is twisted, curling as it takes flight, rising through the heavens. You had no idea tattoos could be so beautiful. 

“I’m happy to broaden your perspective, pretty girl,” he replies. 

You hadn’t even realise you said it out loud. You blush again. 

You’re looking down on him, and he’s leaning back in his chair, legs spread in the loose trousers he wears, but it’s settled on his thick thighs, revealing the delectable muscles there and the bulge you’re trying not to look at. 

When you glance back up at him, he’s pressing his lips together like he’s trying not to laugh. Heat rises up your neck to your face. You should be fired.

Clearing your throat, you point to the dragon. “I want that one.”

“Yeah?” He’s studying you, no doubt trying to determine if you’re worthy. “Can you handle being tattooed, pretty? You’ll have needles poking you, will you manage?”

It’s clear he’s trying to test your limits, which is fair because you don’t have a single tattoo, unlike everyone else in the studio. You stand out with all your pastels and pinks contrasting with the sharp metals and ink of the place. But Suguru thinks you’re a scaredy cat. He thinks you’d tap out immediately and cry home about how he was too rough or too mean. 

You raise a brow, trying to imitate that arrogant look your sister always has. “I think I’ll be able to handle whatever you give me,” and then you add, almost like an afterthought, “boss.”

Always smiling, Suguru lifts a hand and curls two fingers. You shuffle between his spread legs, slotting in so perfectly it makes the tips of your breasts tingle. It’d be so easy to just kneel between them, to take out that part of him you’ve been dreaming of since he interviewed you, and ask for his cum like a good girl. Or better yet, to just plop yourself down on his lap and ride him to oblivion. 

You don’t do either, of course. 

It’d be wrong to do any of that with your boss, though you’re sure you wouldn’t regret a thing. But you have no experience with men. Your fingers, and a couple times a pillow, have been your only company on night where the frustration has boiled over. 

Suguru runs his gaze up the length of your body, from the smooth thighs peaking from your skirt, to your waist, to the nipples pebbling under your thin sweater, and the curves rounding out beyond the neckline, your neck, and your face. Then back down again. 

You gulp. 

There are phantom grazes running along your skin, tickling your skin wherever it goes. It’s making you ache between your legs and you want to rub yourself along his thigh, or his face, or both. How is he doing that?

Slowly, like a panther stalking its prey, he straightens his posture and his hand lifts. You’re both watching his fingertips graze the side of your thigh at a snail’s pace, as if intent on carving the feeling of your skin to memory. 

Your heart is pounding in your ribcage, threatening to burst out and dance on his desk. It’s pulsing at a beat that matches the down at the apex of your thighs. Can he hear it?

His eyes meet yours. His smile is gone. That cool temperament has disappeared, replaced with a strain in his eyes, in the way it flickers between yours. And when you gasp as his fingers reach the hem of your tight skirt, feeling the soft pudge, his eyes narrow. 

“Where do you want it?”

Through the haze, you barely hear what he’s saying. You stutter out, “Anywhere you want, boss.”

That was the wrong thing to say apparently because in a flash he’s standing behind you, pinning your hips to the desk with his own. Oh goodness, his body feels so firm against yours. And he smells so good, like thrill and danger wrapped in one. 

Your head falls back against his chest when his hands grip your hips, fingers splaying over your tummy, so close to where you want them but still not close enough.  

His lips scrape the shell of your ear and his deep timbre enters you and vibrates your very being. “Be careful, angel. I might just brand you everywhere.”

Head tilting to the side, you’re gasping at him. “Brand?”

You breathed it out like it was the dirtiest word in the English vocabulary, like he had just suggested he spit in your mouth in front of the clients. But when you make eye contact, he raises his hand to lift your sweater just a little, thumb settling on your bare skin, all warm from the blood rushing through you. 

You’re growing dizzy, so lightheaded you hardly remember where you even are. That must be why he has an impression that looks so innocent, like he hadn’t said anything at all. You’re mistaken. The rush is ruining your perception. 

Suguru leans down and he’s so close, you’re just a tiptoe away from feeling his lips against yours, from tasting him and exploring anything and everything he’s willing to give. His hands are burning his imprints and you already know you’ll feel them later when you’re no doubt sliding your own hand into your soaked panties. 

But then he pulls away just as there’s a knock at his door. 

You hear Miguel’s muffled voice and you scramble back from Sugar, who’s gracefully sitting back down like nothing’s happened. Your mind is frantically trying to catch up, and it leaves you breathless. 

Stumbling over to the door, you fix your sweater and pull down your skirt hurriedly before opening the door to see the man polite smile at you and then at the boss. 

He enters and you exit, the door remains open. But when you sneak one last glance at the room, you see Miguel admiring something on the wall, and then you catch Suguru’s heated gaze, his stare not faltering even as he presses a hand to his crotch and adjusts himself like a promise. 

You walk back to your desk at the front of the shop and desperately try to catch your breath just in time as a pink-haired man you recognise as being a member of the student council and a friend of your sister introduces himself and ask to see Suguru on a ‘personal matter’.   

It’s as if you’re moving on auto-pilot, nodding with a polite smile and gesturing to the direction of his office unnecessarily because the man’s already walking off. Your phone pings and you open it to see a text from your friend about how she’s on her way. 

You exhale one last time, replying something to her and ignoring the embers flickering on the places your boss has touched. 

And then you giggle. 

[jarofstyles]

Leather & Lace

Hello my angels and welcome to Leather and Lace!!! We’ve got a very cute 3 parter (I’ve finished writing it) coming in for you guys. We love a good grumpy x sunshine and couldn’t help ourselves writing another one. Please leave us feedback! We love to hear from you

Check out our Patreon for early access to parts 2&3, as well as 170+ exclusive writings!

Wc- 8.2k

Warnings- oral sex, praise kink, soft Dom h, opposites attract, cum play/swapping

---------

“How can you be this happy in the morning?” Harry grunted, hoodie pulled over his head as he sat down next to a bubbly Y/N. Her couch was comfortable but it didn’t make up for the fact that he was at her flat at 8 in the morning. 

“It’s not that early, lazy bones.” She hummed, tucking her legs under her as she sat down on the other side. “Thank you for coming to help today, by the way. I know you don’t like getting up early.”

He really didn’t, was the thing. He hated it. Harry only had so many days off and after working a long shift bartending last night, the very last thing he wanted to do was help someone unpack in their new flat. He’d rather claw at concrete than be awake right now, rather eat a raw egg, rather go through tattoo removal. If it was anyone but Y/N he would have laughed in their face at the mere ask. 

But it was her. It was twinkly eyed, pouty lipped, warm hearted Y/N who had asked him a week in advance and promised him a bagel with cream cheese and an iced coffee for brekkie, whatever he wanted for lunch, and ‘whatever he wanted in general!’. Little did she know he was going to say yes anyway, considering he knew he couldn’t say no to her sweet little ask with her smaller hand on his tattooed arm and wide eyes peering up at him. He wasn’t someone who liked to do things for many people without there being some sort of monetary gain, but this was different. 

Y/N had somehow latched herself onto one of the grumpiest bastards in the area while she herself was one of the sweetest girls he’d ever seen. Rarely spoke a mean word of anyone (except when they hurt someone close to her), went out of her way to help anyone who needed it and always wanted to be a shoulder to cry on. He’d seen her take money from her own wallet to cover someone’s bill when they were short, even seen her rush to help an elderly man across the street. It got her into trouble sometimes which was why he was glad that he’d been the hip she’d chosen to attach to. 

Their first interaction had been him sitting in the courtyard of their uni, listening to music under the tree. He’d had his sketchbook in hand, doodling in between classes when he looked up to see a girl with a pretty yellow bow in her hair offering him a cupcake because he looked ‘sad.’. He had been sad, actually, but that was pretty much his normal resting face. He’d tried to blow her off but she’d taken a seat next to him, introducing herself and telling him about her own day to ‘distract him’. He hated to admit that it worked. 

From then on, she popped up everywhere. At first he’d been a bit worried that she was following him but it truly was a coincidence. Y/N had found her way under his skin, wriggled her way into that cold heart of his and made it warm up just a little each time she came around. At some point she’d become a daily fixture in his life, her texts lighting up his phone with emojis and telling him to meet her at the cafe or the library- and for some reason, he followed.

“Mmm. Know y’wanted me here to see me get all sweaty. If y’wanted to see my tats and muscles so badly, you coulda just said so, Sweets.” He smirked, watching her eyes widen. So easy to fluster. 

“No! Stop teasing me, s’not nice.” She grumbled, poking his knee with her socked foot. She’d chosen lavender striped ones today. “I don’t have a lot of strong friends, you know that. Niall’s comin’ by after work to help you put the bedframe together and move the books from the car. Besides, I’ll let you sleepover and everything after we’re all done. I know you loveeeee my bed.”

He did. But more than anything he liked laying in said bed with her. Harry had a hard time admitting he had begun to gain feelings for the girl but deep down he knew he did. He liked that she insisted on cuddles, curling her leg around his and nuzzling her face into his chest, or even better yet the crook of his neck. Loved when she’d sleepily ask him questions about his life and tell him facts about her own. She resembled a tiny kitten while sleepy, insistent on getting all of the pets and attention. 

Harry had decided he wasn’t the relationship type after his last girlfriend had cheated on him with his old best mate- but meeting Y/N had reminded him of the die hard romantic that laid underneath the surface. All the hard work he’d had piling up bricks on top of his red, bleeding heart had seemed to be consistently excavated by the pastel wearing girl who still enjoyed the fairy lights he used to see online in those aesthetic bedroom photos. It scared him a bit at first. Even now, he was nervous about the idea of getting closer to her than they were now because her heart was a tender and precious thing and he didn’t necessarily trust himself not to hurt her- but then again, he knew he’d do miles better than anyone else could. He’d spent the time learning about her as the months went by, listening to her drawl on about the pinterest boards she made, her dream finds she always looked for at the thrift stores, her least favorite reality TV contestants, which pastries she found to be too dry at the cafe and which had the best level of moisture, what blankets she liked, every little tidbit he had stored away in his brain to use at a later date. 

No one would be as protective of her as he would be, which was why lately he’d been entertaining the thought of perhaps moving past the point of no return and trying to see if maybe, possibly, perhaps.. They could be more. 

It had come with a lot of deliberating but he’d come to understand that if he failed, Y/N wouldn’t caste him to the side. She’d never in a million years abandon him like he feared, which only gave him more motivation to go for it though… He was still biding his time. He had to let her get settled here before he shook up her life a bit more. 

They were opposites, the sweet girl and him. Harry was quite literally the bad boy cliche of everyone’s after school special’s dreams. His hair was long and curled, brushing his jaw. He went for darker clothing, usually his ripped black skinny jeans and a band tee but sometimes more eccentric with some silk and leaving his tits out when they went on a night out. His nose had a simple black hoop, his nails painted and chipped though this week they were a bubblegum pink, a la Y/N’s expertise. His body was hard from the gym he liked to frequent and inked, only getting more every month. He wore the occasional eyeliner when he felt spicy. That was only the physical things. 

Sometimes he wondered why she felt drawn to him, as she said. He was dark and moody with a darker sense of humor. Somewhat of a pessimist, he expected the worst from people and tended to stay away from them the best he could. The opposite of a social butterfly, he only usually went out in the past for a drink or to get his cock wet, never for the pleasure of interacting with people. Even then it was rare considering he did quite well in the hookup area being a bartender himself. 

Harry often wondered how and why she felt the pull to be around him and why she felt so at ease in his presence but he figured it had to be that he’d knocked the lights out of a bloke in her philosophy class who’d been riding her ass. He’d made the wrong decision of cornering Y/N at a party Harry had been dragged to, touching her a bit too much and not listening when her smile became thin and she backed away from him after giving a rejection much too polite than the man deserved. There had been no hesitation in laying him out, tugging Y/N into his side and demanding she stay with him for the rest of the party after she insisted she didn’t need to go home. 

Funnily enough she’d been a hit with his own small group of friends, everyone also feeling the same sort of kindred protection over her. Not many people were genuinely warm and fuzzy in the way she was. 

Y/N was… She was the sun, she was a cinnamon roll fresh baked on a sunday morning, she was a kitten sprawled in a sunbeam. All the good things, he could find a way to relate them to her. That probably should have been the indicator he had feelings for her far sooner than he’d ever let himself admit, but she had taken the time to crack him open. 

It was hard to stop thinking about what made her both his opposite and so special. Harry dwelled on how soft her clothing always was, both in color and texture. She liked those pastel colors and fuzzy cardigans, hair bows and those signature mary janes with the tiny heels. Lip oil as opposed to lip gloss because it was ‘too sticky’ but still dragged all his attention to her lips and made him wonder if it really tasted like tangerine like it smelled. 

Her touch was gentle and tender, cautious at first but as soon as she got the go ahead, she showered you in attention. At least, she did to him. Brushing stray hairs out of faces and wiping crumbs off cheeks, she had little sense of personal space once granted permission. She’d been mindful of his distaste for touch at the beginning but once he’d leaned into it, the girl had no qualms about straightening his shirt or leaning into his form, hell- there had been a few times she’d helped herself to his lap when there was no other seating option. Usually that was when she was tipsy considering she would most likely be a little shy sober, but that was something he enjoyed. 

The light to his dark, he doubted anyone else could make him feel the way she could. Hence why he was up after only getting 4 hours of sleep, sipping the coffee she’d gotten him. There was little he wouldn’t do for a hint of her smile. 

—--

“Babe, you’ve got t’make a decision.” Harry said gently, placing the large mirror down and leaning it against the wall. 

“I know, I know but… It’s bad luck to have your mirror facing your bed.” She wrung her fingers together. “I’m sorry, H. I know I’ve been a bit of a pain in the rear today. I promise m’not trying to, but It’s my first place and I just want it to be perfect.” Her head looked down, making his heart squeeze. 

God damn it. Leave it to her to make him feel like he’d kicked a puppy. Sighing, he tugged the bandana on his head back into place and approached her, placing his hand on her shoulder. “M’not upset with you. Promise. I just think you’re overthinking it a bit.” Her superstitions did tend to make her feel a little squirrely sometimes and he knew it.  “We’re gonna make it look perfect. Incredible, even. Reckon the magazines will be calling you up to feature you, but we can’t just have a freestanding mirror slab.” He’d picked it up for her off of craigslist just a bit ago. Even if it wasn’t a dodgy listing, he wouldn’t let her go on her own. That’s how people got kidnapped. 

“Ugh, I know.” She groaned, flopping into his chest. Never mind it being sweaty, she rubbed her nose between his tits and let out a tired groan, her hair smacking his chin. It’d been tossed up in a very messy bun that was a bit lopsided but made her look doubly as cute, though he didn’t tell her that. “Why don’t we mount it to the back of your door then? Not facing your bed, or another mirror.” 

He could almost hear her brain going as she mulled it over before he felt the nod against his chest. “That will be good, I think. I love that idea.” Y/N had been going back and forth over design choices with him all day as if he had a clue about interior decor, but he had appreciated her caring about his opinion nonetheless. “That can be the last thing we do. Niall’s fucked off somewhere futzing with the books so we can eat after that’s done.” 

The thud of his heart against her ear was steady as he gently ran a hand over her shoulderblade. “What’s on the menu?” 

“Think we’re ordering pizza because I know m’too tired to cook which means you lot have to be too.” She chuckled, finally prying herself out of his chest and blinking up at him.”Then we can go to bed.”  He was thankful her ear was away from his heart so she couldn’t hear the way it stuttered. You’d think after sleeping in her bed a multitude of times that he’d get used to the sound of that sentence but it still did him in every time. 

“Okay. I can run and pick it up after I mount this to the door if you call it in.” He knew she wouldn’t want to go. It was visible on her face how tired she was and it melted him internally. He knew that she’d be a little snuggly menace tonight and fuck if he wasn’t looking forward to it. “Gonna run into the pharmacy t’grab some body wash for here, if thats okay?”

“Course it is.” She beamed at the suggestion, making him happy that he’d even brought it up. Y/N used to suggest he sleep heer a lot before and he’d refuse, thinking she was just trying to be polite- but she really did enjoy him staying with her. “I liked the pomegranate one you used last time, just sayin’.” Patting his chest she moved from his grip, heading to grab her phone. “Normal for you?”

“Yeah, love. Same as usual.” He rubbed over the achy spot in his chest that she’d left by pulling away, looking forward to sleeping tonight so he could feel it fill back up.

—-----------

Harry had grabbed the pomegranate bath stuff. He’d grabbed the whole line, actually, the shampoo, conditioner, body wash and some sort of ‘skin buff.’ Whatever that was. 

Y/N had squeaked as he showed her, along with a pack of the makeup wipes she usually used and he’d steal. He’d figured it was about time to be the one to buy the replacements. “Ah! And you got the face mask I like.” Her eyes were wide and bright as she bounced on her toes, smacking a kiss to his stubbly cheek before looking back down at the holographic packaging. He’d hoped he had gotten the right one when he’d seen a sale on them when on his way to the check out counter. It was worth the little bit of money to feel her lips for a moment. “Thank you, H. You’re the best, as usual.” 

“The hell am I?” Niall scoffed, wiping his hands dry after washing them. 

“You’re great too, but he got me the face masks I like and they usually sell out. So he’s a bit higher up in points today.” She placated him, brushing past him to put them in the bathroom. “Harry, plate up the pizza, pretty please!”

As soon as she had disappeared, Niall shot him a look. “When are you two gonna make it official?” He whispered. “The heat eyes bouncin’ off the both of you is sickening at this point. She’s turned you soft.” 

Harry settled with a glare, placing two slices on the paper plate and sliding it over to him. “Eventually. Her whole life is shifting. Can’t do shit right now without rattling her.” It was the first time he admitted or even hinted at having feelings for her besides point blank telling anyone who came around that she wasn’t available. Y/N didn’t know he did that though. 

“Thank fuck you don’t still have your head up your arse. I was worried you’d never admit you’re gone for her.” He faked wiping sweat off his head making the other man roll his eyes. “She’ll be happy, H. You don’t have to worry about her rejecting you. Just go on and do it. She talks about you like you hang the moon every night at this point even when you aren’t around.” 

A weakness he’d spotted, Harry stood a bit straighter before leaning in. “She does? What does she say?” Oh, he hated how desperate he sounded to hear the answer but the fluttering in his stomach made him insisting on finding out. 

“Oh, how thoughtful and kind and generous you are and how you’re the best person she knows, all of that. She stares at her phone and waits for texts from you when she comes out and you’re working, gets these huge smiles or giggles when you do. or tries to get everyone to move the party to your bar.” 

That last part, he’d hoped for. He liked the idea of her wanting to be physically close to him and suggesting everyone come and see him, but knowing she did the same thing he did when waiting for messages from him soothed a piece of him. He wasn’t alone in it. It was hard sometimes for him to decipher her behavior considering she was genuinely so friendly with everyone and he didn’t want to flatter himself and think it he was special… but apparently he was. 

He didn’t have a chance to answer when Y/N glided from the bathroom, finding her spot on the kitchen barstools. “What did I miss?” 

“Nothin’, Babe. Just chatting shit.” He murmured, sliding her a plate with her pizza of choice on it. “Figured we’d go to the grocery tomorrow, yeah? It’s a bit sparse in here with the food.” He had the next day off and intended on spending it with her. They’d made lots of progress today and had 80% of the place unpacked, but he knew she liked those restocking videos online. “Think they’ve got those organizers back in stock.” 

“Oh!” She gasped.”Yes, you genius. I’ll need your help though, strong man. I like the one trip wonder.” It was a tease considering she knew Harry hated making multiple trips up with bags. 

“Lucky for you, you’ve got a lift now and I’ve got that collapsible wagon.” Reaching out he gently flicked her nose for being a brat. “So we won’t have t’worry about that.” 

—-----

Y/N was either very oblivious or a tease. Harry could never fully figure out which one. 

He sat on her bed, messing with her telly when she emerged from the shower in her little cotton shorts and one of his shirts. It was one he’d just been looking for last week, actually, an old Iron Maiden one with a few holes in the collar area. Unmistakably his. The faded gray complimented her skin, looking extra cozy on her as her powder blue plush bunny slippers flopped against the ground and she made her way to her skincare desk. 

“You little thief.” He grumbled from the bed, leaning against her headboard. “I was searching everywhere for that last week.” Though he had narrowed eyes she would know he was only teasing. 

“You left it with me, remember? I ended up packing it so I wouldn’t forget it but… It’s super comfy.” She smiled guiltily at him, spinning in her chair. “Is it okay if I wear it? It still smells like your cologne and it helps me sleep sometimes…”

Ah, a shot to the heart. 

Y/N didn’t know what it did to him to know he was an aid in good sleep. That it both made his heart stutter and his cock throb at the sight of her wrapped up in his clothing like she had all the rights to it. Like he was her boyfriend and she liked to wear it to remember him. Her scent had a similar effect on him, leaving it in his sheets when she stayed over,  “Totally okay, lovely.” He smiled gently. “M’just teasing you. Though it does wonders for my ego to know you like my cologne that much.” 

He knew he was making her a little flustered considering she didn’t look right at him, but he thrived off of that. Knowing he made an impact on her like that made him feel just a bit more confident that she felt similarly to him. There was no answer from her, but he wasn’t done with her quite yet. Standing up with a groan, he made his way over to her little makeup and skincare set up, placing his hands on the back of her chair. “What are you putting on your face?” He asked curiously, looking over her head to the products she had neatly organized.

“Well, first I wipe with one of these toning pads.” She opened the little tub, using a tiny pair of clear tongs to grab one. “You don’t want to be sticking your fingers in there and potentially making them all dirty so it came with this little thing. You give it a few passes over your t zone.” She showed him as she did it, Harry watching diligently in the mirror. 

“Mmm. Then what? You’re always doin’ all of this fancy stuff to your face. Figure that's why your skin is so pretty.” He let his fingers fiddle with a few strands of hair. 

“Thank you.” She said sheepishly, picking up a smaller tube. “Um, I use this undereye cream to help with puffiness and brightening. Its soothing. I apply it with the smallest finger though, because while I’m not afraid of wrinkles it’s the weakest fingers and the skin under your eyes is more delicate.” 

Huh. “Didn’t know what.” He was actually learning something from this. 

“Mhm. Why do you think I tell you to go gentle when you use the makeup remover?” A smile tilted up one side of her lips a bit further, eyes focused on the mirror in front of her. She pretended not to notice the slight shiver he gave her when he leaned down, letting his face get more level with hers- but he did. He noticed anything he could. “A-And then I use some vitamin C stuff for brightening, a serum and a cream. I use the little fan to make it dry faster so it isn’t sticky.” She pointed to the mini pink fan he’d always noticed. He’d just assumed it was for when she got hot. “Do you… Would you like me to use some of it on you when I’m done?” 

She sounded hesitant to ask which he understood. Not a lot of the guys in their friend circle would want that, but he wasn’t that insecure about himself that he’d say no to someone pampering him. Especially not when it meant Y/N getting close to him. “Sure, sweets. I’d love that. Reckon my skin needs it.” 

“What do you usually do with it?” She asked curiously, meeting his eye in the mirror. 

“Makeup remover, wash my face, that cream you left at my place if I remember.” 

“It’s not fair you have the skin you do.” She huffed, shaking her head. “Cruel, actually.” It kind of was. He got long lashes too, which she always complained about. “Go and wash your face first, heathen.”

Harry let out a small laugh before going off to do that. Returning with a fresh face, he stood in his prior position, watching her finish up the routine before holding the fan closer to her face to finish it off. It was an interesting process he hadn’t paid much mind to before, but then again, she didn’t bring every single thing to his place either. 

After putting her hair up in a claw clip, she stood up from the plushy chair and motioned for him to sit down. He did as asked, feeling her residual warmth as she lined up the products for them. “Okay, so we start with the toner pad.” She gently pushed him to lean back in the chair, her face coming closer to his as she delicately swiped it over his cheeks and nose. He was getting an up close look at her, noticing the scar near her eyebrow and a few spots on her face. It made him warm up a bit, being able to see her so close when she was awake. Usually this level of observation was reserved for when she was asleep. “Oi, keep your head up.” 

“Sorry.” He laughed, avoiding the impulse to move the chair back and forth. He liked to swing on it at times. 

“Wait- how about this.” Without giving it much thought, she gripped the chair and swung it over to turn his body to the side, helping herself to straddle his lap. “This seems a little easier, no?” Fingers gently tipped his chin up, eyes focused on her motions. 

Harry’s breath had disappeared. No longer available, he felt her sitting on top of his thighs, innocent as ever as she went through the motions. Tender with her movements and pressure, she was treating him like porcelain while giving him a little makeover. He should be focused on how nice the products felt on his skin, but his mind was elsewhere. 

She smelled amazing, as usual, but having it this close up was a little hard for him. Yes, she sat on his lap before- but not in his shirt, with her thighs on display and tiny little shorts. She didn’t straddle him before either, didn’t let his mind wander to places it shouldn’t. All his energy was focused on trying to ensure she didn’t feel the stiffy that was quickly growing in his pants. 

“I can’t believe how good you’re being for me, H.” She whispered. “No whining or anything.” Her smile was soft as she wiped the serum over his face. “You’re so pretty.”

Fuck. He swallowed thickly, trying desperately to not let his cock construe those words into the filthy praise kink he had, but it appeared to be a bit too late for that. She had no idea what she was doing to him and he didn’t want to be a perv, but god damn. If the girl continued, there would be no denying that he’d cream his damn pants. Being pet on, feeling her brush his hair off his forehead while she stroked his face and adjusted his position to where she wanted… He was only so strong. “Thanks.” He murmured, trying to keep his composure. 

“Of course.” She beamed, seeming pleased. “I’m surprised you’re letting me do this, but you’re full of surprises.” It seemed like she didn’t know the battle he was facing internally, which was his goal, but that was soon to be ruined. “Hold on a second.” Shifting slightly on his lap, she stood up momentarily before sliding further up. “Sorry, I was falling down a bit-” 

Harry hadn’t meant to, he really fucking didn’t. But she sat right on top of him, squirming a bit. Giving his dick a bit of friction, making his hands grip her hips and sit her down hard to stop the movement. He couldn’t open his eyes, couldn’t face her as he heard the hitch in her breath. “Fuck, I’m sorry. Sorry, I didn’t- I promise m’not being a creep or anything.” He winced. “Just been a while and uh-” 

“Hey, it’s okay.” Her voice rang out, fingers brushing through his hair. “H, look at me. I’m not mad.” Of course, her words were sweet and syrupy, going right to his dick yet again. Y/N had no fucking idea how much she effected him, how many times he’d thought about her in this positon and how guilty he felt that he’d turned a sweet moment into something like this. “C’mon. You don’t need to be embarrassed.” 

He took a moment before opening his eyes, looking at her face. Studying it, making sure she wasn’t uncomfortable. Her hand cupped the side of his face, a slight pout on her pretty lips. Y/N didn’t seem upset about it, seeing as she sat still and could most definitely feel his cock under her. He could feel her cunt over him, hot through the fabric and he was doing everything in his power to be fucking normal. 

“There you are.” The tables had finally turned. Harry was the shy one in this moment and Y/N was the one seemingly not freaked out. “It’s a natural body function, H. I know you’re not some kind of perv. I sat on your lap, remember?” She soothed his nerves. “Besides, I’m flattered. Was beginning to think you thought I was some kind of troll or something.” The smile kicked up on her face, but his frown deepened.

“The fuck? Why would you think that?” Brows furrowed, he didn’t like that she thought he didn’t find her attractive. He called her pretty quite a bit. 

“Well, I’m not your type. You go for all those tattooed girls with the bad ass attitudes, which is cool cause I think they’re hot too but… I’m all soft and squishy, y’know? I like the soft things, kinda the opposite of you so I just thought I wasn’t someone you’d be attracted to. M’nothing like what you go for.” She didn’t seem offended by this, rather stating it matter of fact- but Harry couldn’t believe how wrong she was. He had to wonder how long she thought this. 

While he was secretly pining after her, she was thinking he was going off to get blowies by the girls that flirted with him which, sometimes he did. At the beginning of their friendship, he tried to stave off those feelings for her by getting someone else underneath him, fucking away the frustration but he learned fairly quickly that none of it did much when his mind was on someone else. It’d been months at this point. Sure, he liked a bit of flirting to boost his ego, but that was only when Y/N was preoccupied. 

“Well, you’re wrong.” He said sternly. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Dunno where the troll idea came in when m’always staring at you.” He scoffed. “No more of that bullshit. Wouldn’t be hard if I didn’t think you were stunning. Trust me.” In fact, she was the only thing that got him hard these days. Thinking of her mouth, her thighs, her tits, her ass, anything. Even her hands, for fucks sake. “Don’t ever doubt how beautiful you are t’me. Pisses me off.”

“Sorry.” She bleated, pouting back at him. “I didn’t mean to. It’s just.. You call me pretty but I never would have thought you meant it like that. I like that you let me cuddle you and stuff so obviously I know you aren’t repulsed by me but, I dunno.” She swallowed, looking down at his bare chest. “I’m sorry for getting you… if you’re uncomfortable.” 

God, he was mucking this up wasn’t he? He shook his head, letting his thumbs rub over her hips as he softened his face. “No, sweets. Don’t apologize. S’not a big deal, I’m not mad at you. Just don’t like the idea of you thinking poorly of yourself. You’re fucking stunning.” So stunning that his cock was still hard under her. “I’ll go take care of it when we’re done, but no more squirming. Okay?” Squeezing her, he tried to rectify the situation. “No more fussing.” 

“But…” Y/N’s lips twisted slightly, sliding her hands down to his shoulders. “That’s not fair.” 

Harry blinked a few times, looking her over hesitantly. “What d’you mean? I’m okay, pet.” 

“Well, It’s my fault that you’re like this.” She protested. “I can fix it, if you want. Haven’t given too many blowies before, but I can take instruction pretty well.”

Harry truly thought he was dreaming for a moment, his face hot as she gave him an innocent look. Like she meant it, though it slightly embarrassed her for not having a lot of experience. But feeling her shift on him clued him back into reality. This was real. “You- You don’t have to do anything for me, Y/N.” He was holding on by a string. “You didn’t mean to do it. It’s not your responsibility to get me off just because my cock’s got a mind of his own.”

Y/N huffed again, shaking her head. “I want to. Can I?” Her face shifted slightly. “You’re not making me do anything. It would make me feel better If i could take care of you.” Her eyes met his. “I mean it. Promise.” 

And god, if Harry was a stronger man he’d lift her off his lap and insist on taking care of it himself. He’d explain that it could make lines blurry and he liked her a bit more than a friend and they’d have that talk. But he wasn’t a stronger man, and she rolled her hips on him again with a hum, making his head fall back when she repeated the action. “Fuck.” He whispered under his breath. “As long as.. As long you’re sure. I don’t want you to regret it or anything.” 

“I won’t.” She peeped. “I like making you feel good, Harry.” Her face seemed brighter as she watched him nod.

“Go on then, sweetheart.” He sighed. “I’ll show you what I like.” 

Never in a million years had he expected her to be visibly excited, slipping off his lap and on to her knees in front of him. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Eyes looked up at him with curiosity, hands running over his thighs as she waited for direction. He’d dreamt of this so many times, stroked off in the bathroom to this very mental image to get his load out quicker. His cock pulsed inside his sweats. This was really happening. “M’not wearing briefs under these.” He warned, pushing the waistband down as he slowly tugged himself out of the pants. His hand was slightly shaky ass he gave himself a squeeze at the base, a soft hiss leaving his teeth when her hand covered his own. 

“I’ve only done it a few times but…” Her eyes widened. “Yours is the prettiest I’ve seen.”

And fuck if that didn’t get him going. Harry took pride in his dick, as a lot of men did, but to get that compliment was better than anything else. His hair was normally trimmed shorter, but it had been a while. It was groomed a bit at the base, his happy trail leading up his stomach. “Thank you.” He mumbled, removing his hand and letting hers take over. Y/N was eager and that much was obvious, feeling her give him a few strokes as she shuffled closer in between his spread thighs. “I- I probably won’t last long. I wasn’t lying, it’s been a while.” And he’d imagined her in this position so many times that he was programmed to get off to it quickly. 

“That’s okay. You’re quite big so it’ll be better for my jaw.” She giggled. Fucking giggled while her thumb rubbed over the slit, making him shudder. He’d always imagined she’d be much more shy in this situation, but again he was proven wrong. “What do you like?” 

Honestly? He could cum just like this. Her stroking him slow, looking up at him with that pretty little face. Splatter her pretty face with pearly strings leaking from the slit of his cock, let it drip down her cheeks and chin. But she wouldn’t like that answer. “I’m okay with anything you give me, but I… I like to hear you.” He swallowed, a shaky exhale leaving his nose. “And uh, a bit wet. If that’s something you’d like.” 

Y/N looked like she was taking note, nodding at his words. “I want to know what you like, m’okay with anything.” She smiled. “I knew you had to be big cause.. Y’know you’ve got the energy. And I’ve felt it a few times when we cuddle, before you wake up. It’s just different to see it.” Y/N leaned her head on his thigh, continuing to jerk him off. “I’ll probably choke a little bit, cause you’re the biggest I’ve taken. It’s okay though, I’ll be fine. I’ll pinch your tummy or somthin’ if I need a second to breathe.” 

Who the fuck was she? Y/N had never, ever shown or hinted at being filthy in her life, but here she was. Talking about choking on his cock. He throbbed in her hand, making her eyebrows raise. “You liked that. Noted.” Leaning forward, she kept eye contact with him as she dragged her pink tongue from the base up to the tip, letting it sit there for a moment before she pulled away, giving him a few more strokes. “You can show me what you like too. Don’t be shy about it, H. I want you to feel good.” 

Harry nearly lost it as he watched those gorgeous lips purse, spitting right over the tip. It slipped down his length before her hand caught it, stroking and spreading it over his cock. Filthy, filthy things filled his tongue immediately, but he tried to pace himself. “Fuck me…” He whispered, gently gathering her hair in his hand. “I didn’t know you had this in you, gorgeous.” It nearly bowled him over. “Can you.. Take it in your mouth. Suck the tip for me. I want to see that.” 

Normally, he had no problem being a cocky, arrogant man. He was dominant most of the time with his hook ups- but Y/N wasn’t just a hook up to him. She was special. He didn’t want to do a single thing to potentially fuck this up. He wanted her to like this, to see how much he liked it too. She had no problems following instructions, the man watching as her lips stretched around the tip and dipped down a bit as she suckled on it. A soft hum left her mouth and vibrated over him as he curled the hair around his fist, making him groan. “Yeah, jus’ like that, angel. Fuck.” He kept his eyes on her as she bobbed shallowly, taking moments to rub her tongue over his leaking slit. “You’re so good, so sweet t’me. Can’t believe you’re doin’ this.” 

Y/N pulled off the tip, lips wet as she peered up at him. “I’ve thought about it before.” She whispered, lapping over the side of his length. “Wanted to see your cock. I knew it’d be pretty.” 

What the fuck? Harry’s brian felt fried, completely caught off guard by this information. Sure, he had thought maybe once or twice she was teasing him but it wasn’t often. Y/N was just so sugary sweet and kind, a slight air of innocence, and… Now she was telling him she’d thought about sucking him off before. “You have?” 

“Mhm.” She stroked him a bit firmer, the slick sound of her hand around his wet cock getting louder. “I heard.. Heard rumors and felt left out. You like me the best but you never asked me to do anything.” Rubbing the tip over her pouted lips, Harry was shocked yet again. 

“Cause y’mean more to me than any of the other people.” He swallowed. “Too fuckin’ sweet. I like you the best, you’re right but.. You’re my sweet girl. Didn’t want t’use you for anything like that. Would break my heart if I hurt you and you’d not want to see me again.” 

“What if I wanted you to use me?” She asked, peering up at him with those eyes. They drove him absolutely mad. “I know you wouldn’t hurt me unless I asked, H. You’re so good to me… I just want to be good for you too.” Taking the tip back into her mouth, she pushed herself down further and he felt his stomach clench. It took him off guard, feeling the hot mouth take him down and bob herself against him, a soft hum vibrating over him. 

“Oh- Fuck.” He let out a broken groan, leaning further back into the chair. “You are, baby, you fucking are. Hot little mouth… shit.” She whimpered around his cock at his words, sucking a little harder as her hand stroked the rest of him. She liked that. “What is it, hm? Like when I call you baby? When I tell you how perfect you are?” His words got a bit darker. He was slipping into another headspace and Y/N seemed to be coaxing it on. 

She did a half ass nod, not pulling off his length as she continued. Harry wouldn’t have guessed in a million years that she’d be a greedy girl like this, but he was incredibly thankful that she was. “You are. Such a good girl, so gorgeous with your mouth stretched around my cock. Didn’t know you were gagging for it, baby. Should’ve told me.” He chuckled darkly. “Wouldn’t have wasted my loads in the shower before comin’ t’bed with you. Could’ve pushed into your needy mouth and let you swallow it down.” 

Y/N moaned around his prick, eyes watering slightly as she looked at him. He’d never seen a better sight. “You’re so beautiful, angel. So pretty. Didn’t know such a filthy thing could have you lookin’ even more beautiful.” His throat felt thick as his cock throbbed in her mouth. “Fuck, you don’t even know how many times I’ve thought about it.”

Y/N pulled off, panting slightly as webs of saliva connected her mouth to his cock. “How much?” Her voice was a little hoarse, but he could hear that she was desperate to know. “You- You could have. I don’t want you to waste it anymore.” There was the tiny bit of shyness coming back in. “If umm, if you think  I’m good enough at this. I’ll do it.” 

“Fuck me, baby.” His thumb wiped over her spit soaked lips, breaking the threads of spit as he caressed her cheek. “All the fucking time. S’the only thing that gets me off.” Confessions he hadn’t thought he’d be saying so soon, let alone before he’d ever kissed her, spilled from him. “You’re doing amazing. More than good enough, too fucking good for me.” He couldn’t believe she was offering. “You sure you want t’be the one to take care of it?”

“Yes, I want it. I don’t want anyone else to do it.” She pleaded. “I’ll be the best for you. Just- you can tell me and I’ll suck you or, or anything you want.” Harry tested it, gently pushing her head back towards his prick- which she immediately took back in her mouth. The perfect, wet heat bringing him back to that filthy place in his head. 

How could she think he could ever say no? She’d been his weakness since she brought him over that damn cupcake. 

“Oh, sweet girl. Anything?” He cooed. “Dangerous thing to promise me. Don’t want anyone else to do it either.” His breathing was getting harder, trying not to thrust his hips up into her mouth and make her take it all. Sure, she’d probably do it, but he still felt the need to be delicate with her. “Take a little more for me, baby. Just like- there, there you go.” He praised, mouth falling open as she did exactly what he wanted. “Gonna make me cum.” 

This felt a million times better than rubbing one out in her bathroom. His legs were near vibrating, the wet sound of her mouth taking him down and the clicks of her hand stroking his spit soaked cock filling her bedroom. This was the last thing he’d expected was her on her knees for him tonight and part of him wasn’t convinced it wasn’t a wet dream, but he was thanking whatever higher power that was up there that his sweet girl had a dirty side to her. One he wanted to be the only one privileged enough to see. 

“In my mouth.” She gasped, pulling up for a moment. “Want to taste you. Please?” 

How could he ever tell her no? 

Pushing her back down on his cock, he let his hips rise up and shallowly thrust into her mouth as she moaned around him, drooling down her chin and letting him use her the way he needed to get off. The best part was knowing she was enjoying it so much. It was a miracle he’d lasted this long already, but he attributed that to shock. She was dirty, his sweet girl, choking slightly on his cock as the tip hit her throat, but she made no move to want to stop. 

His last straw, though, was feeling her hand over his balls, whining around him as he let out his deepest groan yet. It was sloppy and messy and so fucking good that he felt lightheaded, tummy hot and legs weak as he felt himself approach his end. “Fuck, jus’ like that, your fucking mouth is perfect… fuck, fuck, fuck, baby- M’gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna-” His voice failed as his head fell back, lifting his hips as his cum began to pour into her mouth. Ribbon after ribbon coating her throat, pulling back a bit to get it on her tongue while she worked him through it. 

He didn’t realize he had so much in him, but perhaps it was just Y/N that made him cum this much. This hard. His ears rung a bit, curses leaving his mouth as he watched her mouth open and hand stroke him to see the pearly mess on her tongue. At the last little bit,he used his grip on her hair to tug her up to his face. 

“C’mere, sweet girl. Share with me, don’t be greedy.” holding her face while the other had her hair, he pulled back into his lap and her mouth to his and groaned as she licked over his tongue, sharing the remnants of his load with him. It was something a bit nasty and deprived, he knew, but Y/N merely moaned back, her clean hand curling around the back of his neck. 

The kisses slowed from frantic and hot, to softer, slow and sweet. Pecking her lips over and over again, her whimpers melted into giggled as he untangled from her hair, sliding his hand under the shirt she had on to get some bare skin on his fingertips. “Sweetest thing, most beautiful girl.” He murmured between kisses. “Thank you. Best I’ve ever had.” 

“You’re jus’ saying that.” She whispered, though the smile was difficult to wipe off her face. Obviously she liked praise just as much as him. 

“Nope. Mean every word.” He confirmed, rubbing his nose over her cheek. “Thank you, baby. Felt so damn good, can’t feel my legs now.” Harry’d never felt like this after a blowie, both in his legs and the fondness he felt for the girl. If there had been any doubts about his feelings for her whatsoever, they were shattered. He was so far gone for her, it was pathetic. 

“Good.” She smiled, feeling the kiss to his cheek. “I need to finish your skincare, though. So tuck yourself back in, cause m’gonna do that and then brush my teeth again. Though.. I can tell you’ve got a good diet. Tasted nice.” 

Though Harry knew cum never really tasted good, he was chuffed that she hadn’t minded. Even more, that she hadn’t minded indulging in sharing with him. “M’not selfish, I need to help you too.” He reminded, though she merely shook her head. 

“I’ll take a raincheck. M’so tired now, and I want to enjoy it fully.” Pecking his cheek in return, she picked up the moisturizer. “Think you need a lip mask too. Thankfully, you’re in the right hands.” 

Harry was sometimes a selfish lover with hookups and he could admit that, but with Y/N he never wanted to be that way. He wanted to make her feel good, but he could wait. It only made him anticipate it more- there would be a next time. 

“Okay, sweets.” He chuckled. “Do whatever you’d like.”

[yuff7e]

Hii! I have two ideas I don’t mind if only one is written: Could you write head-canons or like anything about Inosuke with a s/o whose love language is physical touch? Or could you write head-canons about Inosuke with an artist gf who maybee has a whole book with drawings of him 🤭🤭? Whatever is easiest tysm!!

⋆�� inosuke with an artist s/o who loves physical touch !! ⟡♡ headcanons / fluff

gender neutral

omg hi anon !! and yes ofc i can :)) im making this whole thing gender neutral but i can do a separate fic of inosuke with an artist gf and he find out she’s been drawing him since the very start and how he reacts if you’d like ?? anywho, enjoy !! <3

the cuties song -> www.spotify.com

- inosuke and you have a pretty stable relationship tbh

- considering the fact he’s a feral boar man

- since you two have been together, you haven’t noticed inosuke having any hobbies

- like at all besides screaming and challenging people (and sleeping…) (…aaannndddd eating)

- but hey! that’s fine! you have yours and inosuke has… his

- now anywho, you were waking up bright and early for another day of training

- when suddenly you didn’t feel the crushing weight of inosuke on you…

- (he always sleeps on you and waits until you wake up! but today he wasn’t… oh god.)

- “inosuke? inosuke!”

- he had been rummaging around in your things while you were asleep !!!

- you rush over to him and jump on top of him to hide what he might’ve saw

- he lets you take him down and looks at you

- he’s doing that weird gawking giddy thing he does whenever he’s happy

- you just stare back at him

- “what?”

- “WHAT IS THIS BOOK?!”

- he holds up a sketchbook, filled to the brim with drawings of him

- you FREAK OUT

- “inosuke!! this is private stuff!!”

- “so?”

- mans does NOT know privacy

- yalls relationship is a one way street for that matter and he sticks to it.

- so he is veerrryyy adamant about seeing the rest of what’s in that book

- finally, you give in and let him look at it

- he’s amazed by the cool illustrations and doodles you’ve made for him

- “these are me?!”

- “yeah…”

- *cue him flipping through them aggressively*

- “i want this one!”

- “inosuke you can’t just take them! well— i mean maybe you can but i don’t want you to!! i spent a long time drawing these—..”

- “i don’t care!”

- “okay. insouke— seriously..!!”

- once he starts ripping some of the pages you snatch the book

- he tries to fight you but realizes you’re being serious so he stops but is still agitated

- he wants them!!

- now, onto physical touch

- honestly i wouldn’t see him having a problem with it, it’d probably just stroke his ego more knowing he’s got a pretty partner like you by his side caressing his arm while he boasts about how he’s the “king of the mountains”

- a real “i’m on top of the world” moment fr

- but he did kind of freak out when you touched him for the first time

- you were walking through the butterfly mansion, on the way to see inosuke

- you two had planned a little first date type-thing

- (with the help from tanjiro and zenitsu..)

- but you were happy and couldn’t wait to go and see him!!

- once you got there he wasn’t dressed up, just in his casual attire

- no clothes..

- anyway, you walk up to him and touch his shoulder

- he turns around so fast screaming “WHO THE HELL JUST TOUCHED ME?!”

- realized it was you and just stared

- the skin to skin contact got him feeling some typa way

- and ever since then you’ve just been doing the same thing you always do

- “hey inosuke!” you giggle as you hug him and he just freezes

- if he’s in the middle of a screaming fit and you go over and wrap your arms around him he’ll stop IMMEDIATELY

- “er—!! hey!”

—

·˚ ༘ you’re outside training when you hear screaming coming from the inside of the butterfly mansion, and you weren’t too surprised that when you walked in your boyfriend was being quite the sore loser.

kanao had just beat him in one of the training games, and he wasn’t too happy about it. “she was cheating! she’s cheating! let’s do a rematch!! this time i’ll beat you!” we’re all the words you heard from him as he stomped his feet aggressively.

you sigh and look at kanao who’s just staring blankly at inosuke, “i guess we could have a rematch..” she squeaks, inosuke jumping right for her - and of course he loses, again.

he’s defeated, running back over to the side lines and throwing his whole body into the wall - banging his boar mask against it and throwing a few punches. you trot over to him, your arms extending until you fully fall into his side.

he stops what he’s doing and immediately goes to push you off, not realizing it’s you. until he notices your voice, “inosuke! stop screaming! you’ll have another rematch soon.”

he immediately grabs your arms to throw you off (which he could’ve easily done since you didn’t have your guard up) but he just complained while you were practically on top of him. saying things like - “hey! get your hands off of me! i have another match to win!” or “what’s the deal?! can’t you see i’m busy?!”

of course since he hasn’t pushed you off yet you know this is calming him down, and eventually it does. his anger subsides but only for a little bit, the match eventually redos and kanao gets a few good hits in until he wins.

instantly, he’s rushing over to you and tackling you to the ground!! “i did it! ya see that? i knew i could win!” he’s yowling and jumping around and you just smile at him fondly. “congrats inosuke! but i have to go back outside and finish my training—..”

before you could finish inosuke picks you up and twirls you around before setting you back down, patting your head. “alright! don’t be long. i want you to see me beat the rest of these people!” a blush creeps onto your cheeks as you giggle, a little out of breath.

“heh.. alright! i’ll be back.” you kiss his shoulder quickly before jogging away - causing him to freeze and someone catching him off guard and winning another match…

you didn’t hear the end of it later that night!! but it was all okay when you woke up for another day and inosuke was laying on you per usual, not rummaging through your things this time.

—

YAYA I FINISHED !! it’s not as serious as i honestly hoped for but im actually super proud of this i think this is really cute !! hope u enjoy <3

REQUESTS : OPEN

[dragon-kazansky]

Bridgerton shade of blue

Benedict Bridgerton x Female Reader

The Viscount is set on finding a wife this season, and you are trying again for your second season. While Anthony is dealing with trials between Edwina and Kate Sharma, you are dealing with trials of your own. Benedict Bridgerton is ever present in your life, but your pursuit to find a husband must come first. Society is ever so exhausting.

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Season Two

Chapter Twenty One - The one who sparkles

The next day, you find yourself at the Bridgerton house. Madame Delacroix is there with fabrics, so Violet may choose one for Eloise. Eloise could not care less about fabrics as she reads away on the sofa.

Francesca plays the piano beautifully in the background. You're standing by the piano watching her. She smiles as she plays, lost in her music. You loved that about Francesca. She was so different from her siblings.

Anthony was reading by the window quietly. He hadn't spoken a word since you got here. Not to you or his family.

Elosie and Anthony share a shirt discussion about ladies and gentlemen. Eloise finds all gentlemen a bore, and Anthony doesn't believe ladies can dance properly. His poor toes. He had spent all night dancing with no such luck as to finding his ideal wife.

Hyacinth makes a comment about how she thinks Eloise would be a wonderful diamond. Eloise looks at her youngest sister in her face and says, "I despise you."

They all chuckle.

Violet chooses the fabric she likes best, and Madame Delacroix packs her things. You don't even notice as she leaves that Benedict enters, greeting her fondly. The conversation is short, however, as Benedict's eyes land on you.

Madame Delacroix leaves.

Francesca finishes her piece on the piano and smiles at you when you clap softly. "Wonderful, Francesca. Simply, wonderful."

"Thank you."

Francesca leaves the room quietly, and you find a seat to occupy. Benedict, having been turned by Delacroix, decides to make his way over to you, but Anthony calls for him. Benedict sighs and makes his way to his brother with his sketchbook in hand.

"Are you and the modiste still, uh, making a stitch?" Anthony asks.

"Apparently not. Have you found a wife yet? Or are you planning to offend every girl until there are none left? Is mother aware?"

"Aware of what?" Violet asks, hearing them.

"I'm off to deal with our solicitor," Anthony states. "Have fun with your pretty pictures, brother."

You watch Anthony leave. Violet follows him.

You get up and take the seat Anthony was just in. You lean across the table slightly and look at Benedict.

"You're not playing with her anymore?" You ask, teasing him.

"What are you talking about?"

"Madame Delacroix."

"You know?" He asks, completely horrified by the thought.

"Yes."

"How?"

"Anthony told me. I'm not sure why. Who you fool around with is your business, not mine. You Bridgerton boys certainly keep yourself entertained." You chuckle.

"You seem rather calm about this."

"Why shouldn't I be? I'm not naive, Benedict." You glance at the others. "I'm aware of what some people do."

Benedict is stunned into silence as he stares at you. Seems there is more to you than he first assumed.

"It was just some fun," he says softly.

"I don't care." You tell him. "Do what you want, Benedict."

The smile you give him doesn't offer him much comfort.

At the next ball, the queen was expected to choose her diamond of the season. All ladies in white and gold were presented before her before moving alone. You and your mother curtsied. The queen barely glanced at you.

You both walk on.

"She did not look impressed," you commented quietly.

"She never does," your mother responds.

You sigh softly and stand off to the side. You watch people dance. Spotting the Sharma ladies, you watch them approach the queen and curtsy to her.

They walk away quite quickly. You're not sure what the queen had said, but Lady Mary Sharma didn't seem too happy.

"May I have this dance?"

You turn and find yourself face to face with a rather handsome gentleman. You smile politely and take his hand, letting him guide you to the floor.

Lord Baxtor was a friendly gentleman. He had a dashing smile and seemed very pleased to be dancing with you.

"I saw you at Lady Danbury's soiree," he says.

"Oh? I do not recall meeting you."

"No, I think not. You spent most of the evening rather close to Mr Bridgerton's side."

"Oh... Yes. I must apologise. The first ball of the season, I always find rather daunting. I find comfort in being close to friends," you tell him.

"Yes, I must agree with you. You looked beautiful that night, as you do tonight."

You smile. "Thank you. You look very dashing tonight."

He smiles.

As you both dance, you don't notice Bridgerton's arriving. Violet guides Eloise over to the queen, followed by the two eldest sons.

"Tell me, brother, is there anyone here you haven't rejected?" Benedict teases Anthony.

Anthony does not look amused.

"You're the artist. Do you see anyone remotely inspiring?"

Benedict automatically finds himself looking in your direction despite not knowing you were there moments ago.

"We shall have our diamond tonight, and I shall have a wife," Anthony declares.

The greet the queen.

Eloise manages to make the queen laugh quite loudly with a comment about emeralds.

They bow and leave.

"If the queen, in fact, names Eloise the diamond, who will you marry then, brother?" Benedict asks.

"Hush, you."

The dance comes to an end, and Lord Baxtor escorts you off the floor. You smile at him. He lets go of your hand slowly, almost reluctantly, but he is a gentleman. You watch him walk away.

This seems like a promising start, at least.

You spot Benedict across the room, and he smiles at you. You return his smile. You would go over to him, but the fanfare plays and realise the queen is about to choose her diamond of the season.

You wait with the other to see who she will choose.

"Your presence is noted, and your queen most appreciative. Allow it to now be my honour to present you the season's diamond."

The room is quiet apart from a few whispers.

"Miss Edwina Sharma."

The room fills with applause. You watch the sisters who both smile. You are happy for them. Edwina is elegant, beautiful, has a charming smile, and seems to be a very wonderful person all around.

She will certainly have her hands full within the ton.

You don't notice Benedict, who comes up beside you.

"Disappointed?"

You look up. "Hardly."

"Though, you do have an admirer, it seems."

You follow Benedict's gaze to find Lord Baxtor watching you from across the room. You smile and turn away shyly.

"Then you must make sure to keep your distance, Benedict. I don't want to scare away any potential suitors."

Benedict gazes at you with a slightly confused look. He's not sure what you mean by your comment, but he doesn't respond to it. All he sees is you looking at the other gentleman with a soft smile.

Anthony takes Edwina for a dance around the room, where he is no doubt questioning her preferences.

Kate Sharma seems very unhappy to see them together.

You, however, have a splendid evening. When Benedict realises he is not holding your attention for the night, he leaves. Lord Baxtor wastes no time in coming over to talk to you.

You do not leave his side the rest of the night.

The next morning, you sit in your drawing room with your embroidery. Tea is sitting on the table beside you, and your mother is watching the window. She will hate it if you point out how obvious she is being. With wvery gentleman she sees pass the house she gets excited, only to discover them going down the street to another.

You find it amusing. Your mother looked forward to the next season. She took great joy in all the chaos society provided. You do so adore her when she is like this.

"Is there still time?" You mother asks, coming over to the couches.

"Yes, ma'am." The butler replies.

Your mother sighs and looks around the room. She hoped she had made the house comfortable enough for visitors. She was keen to help impress a suitor for you.

There is a knock at the door, and your mother clutches the armrest beside her with a sharp gasp. The butler leaves to answer the door, and you chuckle at the way your mother begins to fuss.

The butler returns. "A visitor, ma'am."

"Let them in." Your mother stands.

You put your embroidery down and stand up alongside her. You wait a few moments and then the vistor enters. You smile.

"Lord Baxtor."

He bows his head. "My lady."

Your mother smiles from ear to ear and excuses herself to the other side of the room to watch from there.

You invite Lord Baxtor to sit with you. You both take your seats and smile at one another.

"Hello."

"Hello," he chuckles.

"I was no expecting any callers."

"No?"

"I expected them all to be with Miss Sharma this morning," you confess.

"Though she is beautiful to be certain, and I'm sure a wonderful lady, I find myself wishing to spend more time in your presence."

You blush softly as you look at him.

"I haven't stopped thinking about our dance last night," he tells you.

"Oh?"

"Have you... perhaps thought of me?"

"Yes. I must admit I have."

He adjusts his position on the sofa and looks at you rather serious. "I must ask, Bridgerton will not likely be an issue, will he?"

"Why should he be an issue?"

"As much as I love a challenge, I do not wish to be up agaiant a Bridgerton, of all men."

"He is a friend of mine, but should you wish to see where this goes, a can assure you, Benedict Bridgerton will not be a problem."

Lord Baxtor smiles. "Good. Then can I hope to escort you to the races this afternoon?"

You smile. "I would be delighted."

Your mother watches with keen interest as you used this gentlemen seem to get along quite nicely. It was a promising match if she had ever seen one.

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

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

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

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

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

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

@cosmixstar - @bree3parchen - @berrnuu - @charmainemaclendon - @pinkpantheris - @krismdavis

@biancamde - @ifgslsofbsodbf - @kniselle - @berarenado - @grassclippers - @bwormie - @avengersgirllorianna

[honey-flustered]

Kinktober Day 9: Body Worship

DBF!Jim Hopper x Artist!Fem!Reader

Summary: Hooper becomes your muse.

Warnings: age gap (Hopper 40s, Reader 20s), unethical relationship, cheating, c*ck worship, cum eating, cumming untouched, facef*cking, body worship, hopper has a big one (i know it), dacryphilia

You’re sitting at your dining room table sketching away when you felt a heavy hand on your head, tussling your hair. You quickly place your arms over your work, looking back at the unexpected guest with an anxious smile.

Hopper gives you a warm genuine smile. He’d come over for dinner by your father’s invitation with his girlfriend, Joyce Byers. When you learned of his relationship status, you were quite disappointed to say the least. You want to be happy for him as he appears to be a lot healthier and happier but because he’s not with you, it doesn’t settle right. Because of this you ignored him the entire night.

“Hey, kid,” He says with a soft chuckle at your startled look. His eyes squint at the way you hid your sketchbook. “Whatcha got there?”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” You sigh, trying to feign indifference. “You wouldn’t like it.”

“No, I’m really curious,” He insists, sitting in a chair to face you. “I always care for your art.”

You clutched the book to your chest before slowly releasing it for him to take. It’s erotica art. The male vampire lover similar-looking to Hopper feeding from the breast of a woman similar-looking to you.

“That’s pretty good stuff.” He says, much to your surprise.

“I-it is.”

“Yeah,” He laughs. “Is this why you were afraid to show me?”

Your eyes bug out of your head. Did he catch on that the drawing looks similar to him? It’s so obvious! Of course, he knows.

“Because of a little nudity?” He continues. So he didn’t catch on, after all.

“Well, yeah,” You follow through with his observation. “People tend to get a bit uncomfortable with nudity so I didn’t want to do that to you.”

“I don’t mind nudity especially when it comes to incredible art like yours. The human body’s a natural thing.”

“Exactly! That’s actually the concept I’m going for with my art. Natural bodies, sexualities, and kinks. It’s about what makes humans find beauty and attraction or lack thereof beyond the human flesh.”

“I think it’s brilliant. Maybe a little above my intelligence level but I know you’ve got it.”

“Actually, I think you might be the only one who understands around here,” You admit. “My parents…they just think this whole art thing’s unsustainable. But I think with this art installation project coming up, I can prove them wrong. Do you…do you think you can help me, Sheriff Hopper?”

“How could I help?” He asks.

“Be my muse, pretty please.”

And when he agreed he’d no clue what he’d signed himself up for. For you to be so bold to ask your father’s best friend to be your muse when it meant seeing him in the nude, he couldn’t fathom you asking such a thing. And yet now here he was in your small studio contemplating on whether he should go through with removing the remainder of his clothing.

You place your pencil down onto the canvas’s utensil holder, approaching his tall frame. “What’s wrong? Do you need help taking off your pants?”

He swallows convulsively. “When I said I’d be your muse, I thought you just needed me to hold a quick pose…fully clothed.”

“My art concept’s about natural bodies, Sheriff,” You grab unto the waist band of his jeans that had been slightly undone to reveal his white boxers. You drag his pants down a little to where his rather sizable member rests above the open fly. He’s growing hard. “You knew that though. It’s exactly why you agreed to becoming my muse—so I can worship you.”

You palm him through his underwear and he groans, taking your hand away to place them over his hairy chest.

“I knew you as a teenager.” He protests.

“I was 19.” You roll your eyes, using your free hand to hook into his underwear and pull him closer.

“Your father wouldn’t approve.” He argues, a moan bubbling in his throat when you begin to kiss on his chest and swirl a tongue around his nipple. He squeezes your hand a little, releasing as if it is an expression of his diminishing restraint.

You pull away with a wet pop, a line of saliva connecting as you stare up at him with doe eyes. “When have I ever cared what my father approves of?”

“I have a girlfriend.” He counters.

You move your lips to his ear, hotly whispering, “So do I.”

Your lips find each other’s in a sloppy make out session of tongues and clashing teeth. Your hands roam his body, caressing his belly then slipping down his underwear to jerk him off. Even though, you can’t see it, you can tell that it’s not only deathly thick and long but super veiny, too, with a wicked curve. No wonder Joyce had been limping all throughout dinner that day.

You break away from his lips, peppering wet kisses all over his stomach and dipping your tongue in his bellybutton. When you’re finally on your knees, you rub the base of him through the fabric. You bite your lip in anticipation as you finally take initiative and pull him out of his confines, mouth dropping open at the look of him. Just as veiny as you thought with heavy, sagging balls to match. You’re drooling, licking your lips and staring up at him one last time before focusing your eyes on the leaking tip and enclosing your mouth around him.

He cradles the back of your head with one hand while the other pounds a fist against your not-so-high ceilings, a loud growl escaping his clenched teeth.

You bob your head quickly, dramatically gagging on him and its loud and messy but neither of you care. Soon, he’s fucking your mouth both hands interlocked on the back of your head while you do a mix of massaging his clothed thick thighs or raking your sharp nails down his pudgy tummy. Tears prick your eyes as you struggle to take him but you’ll take whatever he gives you even if it kills you.

You don’t even need to touch yourself as the juices flow out of you, streaming down your inner thighs. You’re humping the air, core contracting around nothing as his whines are the only thing fueling you to near your end.

“Fuuuck, I’m cumming.” He hisses, rapid final thrusts of his wide cock into your mouth. He holds you down, your nose embedded in his pubic hair and you taste his hot spunk shoot down your throat. Just from that, you cum untouched, the act of being used so filthily making it possible.

You’re limited in breathing as you inhale through your nose and your jaw hurts but it’s all worth it as your eyes roll back and you quiver as much as your body could under his hold.

He finally releases your head, pulling his cock out of your wet mouth with webs of saliva to follow as you gasp for air.

“Was I inspiring enough for you?” He asks cockily.

Your throat itches as you let out a low giggle. “You’re perfect.”

[luveline]

i have a request idea! maybe aaron x reader where the reader is bullied/ being maltreated by her roommates like that one remus headcanon you filled? i love protective hotch but i get it if you don’t think this goes with him! your fics give me sm comfort thank you for writing them <3

thank you my love. fem, 1.5k

cw bullying/ unfriendly roommates

You can't believe it's Aaron's car. No way is his timing this bad. There's just no way he's home from a case, that he's chosen to visit without calling first, today. Right now. 

He's out of the car before you've so much as wiped your cheeks dry. You've never seen him park that fast. 

"What are you doing out here?" he asks, looking you up and down. "Let me help you up, sweetheart." 

Sweetheart so soon after seeing you —you must look terrible. You take his hand and stand up off of the floor, unperturbed as he brushes down your butt and thighs. 

"Why are you sitting on the floor?" he asks, soft, "It's wet, honey, you're crying– What's wrong?" 

You remember suddenly that you have someone on your side. Shaking, you tuck your arms under his and cross them behind his back, the fabric of his suit jacket familiar under your trembling fingers. You feel like a kid again at the mercy of other people's cruelty, but this hasn't been something you could run away from. The meanness takes root at home. But now Aaron's here and he's holding you, his hand coming up to cup the back of your head delicately, his voice a murmur as he reassures you, "It's alright." He presses his cheek to the plane just adjacent to your eye. "Honey, please don't cry." 

"They smashed my vase," you say into his chest. 

"Who?" 

"My roommates, Aaron, they don't– don't like me." The vase was a gift. Special to you, irreplaceable, you've brought it safely from one place to another without ever having broken it. It was in the kitchen, housing your most recent bouquet of flowers from Aaron. "Macy said it fell over, but they were laughing, and they said the same thing about my bag, my– my sketchbook. They keep ruining my things, they throw away my food, and they laugh at me all the time, even when I'm not doing anything. I know they are."  

The laughing is honestly the worst part. Like your reaction isn't even worth considering, it doesn't bother them that you're upset, they just giggle and tell you to feel better. Sometimes they apologise like it wasn't them. Sorry about that, maybe don't leave it somewhere it could get ruined? with a smile that hardly counts as sympathetic. 

"How long has this been happening?" he asks. 

Months. "Since we met, at least." 

Aaron makes a noise you don't understand. You wait for him to say more, but he only rubs your back diligently for a time before ushering you into the car. A bag of takeout has gone cold in the passenger seat, the backseat busy with his go bag and a new bouquet. He's very, very good to you. 

In the car, he reaches across the console to fret over you, stroking your damp cheeks and rubbing your shoulders. You feel as though all your energy has been stolen. All you can do is lean into his hand as he wipes away your quiet tears. 

—

Hotch watches you cry in his passenger seat and feels pretty angry. It's not often like him to turn to anger when the people he cares about are upset. He's more of a problem solver. But when it's as bad as it is now, he doesn't bother restraining himself. 

He knew there was something about your roommates that you weren't telling him. Obviously, as the partner in the relationship who doesn't have roommates, Hotch hosts the majority of your 'sleepovers'. It's easier and awards more privacy most of the time, and honestly, he's not at the age where he's very interested in bumping into people on the way to the bathroom in the middle of the night. He'd prefer to be home, and much prefer to have you there. 

He was wondering about asking you to move in, but there never seemed to be a good time, and right now your answer would likely be influenced by the insecurity of your home rather than true desire to live with him. He knows one day, he'll ask, and one day you'll say yes, (or he hopes), and so he keeps it in mind but otherwise proposes a temporary arrangement. 

"Let's go get some of your things and you can stay with me for a few days," he says. 

"Are you sure?" you ask. "What about Jack?" 

"He'll be happy for the company. Trust me." 

Hotch isn't shallow, but he likes being that little bit taller than you, and he's no brute, either, but he knows he's intimidating at times. He'd never use his position to scare private citizens in civilian disputes, but seeing the amusement in the eyes of your  roommates turn to nervous recognition when he follows in behind you makes his day. 

She's not alone, he thinks, putting his hand to your back. 

He might put their behaviour down to jealousy. Not so much that they wish they were with Hotch, there's hardly been any desire for him coming from either woman, but your happiness. You're a nice girl, a good girl, good in the sense that you don't need to knock others down to be happy. He treats you accordingly. 

He pointedly doesn't greet them as you show him the corridor down to your room. Your door is ajar, which he doesn't like, but you don't say anything about your things. 

"What do you need?" he asks.

"How long will I stay?" 

"However long you need to. If you want time to feel better while we manage this, or you need to move. I'm with you." He again thinks of the lack of a lock. "I'd say bring your valuables, honey. So nothing miraculously breaks." 

He ends up packing for you. He knows you well, and he's more than aware of what you'll need to survive for a week. What clothes, which pyjamas you favour, even your skincare. He has a career in identifying small details, but it's a better duty knowing you so well. He does that for fun. 

You stop by the door and turn into his side, hesitant to leave. He hates seeing you wilted, usually so bright. "They're talking about me." 

Your roommates are indeed whispering in the kitchen and Hotch would bet money that you're correct, but he doesn't want to encourage that line of thought. It could easily become a seed of doubt that leaves you anxious and paranoid. 

"I'd hope they were discussing their own bullying," he says. 

You rest your forehead on his arm. "What did I ever do to them?" 

"You're happy. You're grateful and loving, and some people can't stand it. They can't rope you into their misery," he guesses. "Have you considered the possibility that you're a bad roommate?" 

You laugh into his jacket reluctantly. "You know I'm not."

"Maybe you behave with me," he says, rubbing the top of your shoulder. Your laughter draws a silence in the kitchen. Hotch can't help himself. "Don't forget to turn your security camera on before we leave," he says, holding a finger over his lips. 

You smile. "Oh, I almost forgot about that." 

Your roommates aren't so full of cheer as you go. At least without a lock on the door, Hotch can be confident that his… bending of the truth will buy your possessions a few more days of safety. You don't have to tell your roommates that you're leaving, evidenced by your bags, but Hotch is feeling awful, and he says, "Do you have your bathing suit? Your passport's in the bag." 

"What is wrong with you?" you whisper through laughter as the door closes behind you both. "I had no idea you were this quick to tell lies." 

Hotch pulls your bag further up his arm to take your hand. "I wasn't lying about anything, your passport is in the bag, and I asked a question. If that question implies that you're about to have a fun weekend, that's coincidental." 

He doesn't want your roommates thinking they have any power over you. Not an inch of it. And he doesn't want you thinking that they do either, knee deep in plans for the forthcoming days. He's going to spoil you to death if he can, starting with a new vase for your waiting flowers, and a good squeeze on the way down to the car to prompt you into relaxing. 

"Sorry about all the fuss," you say. 

He kisses you twice. "Don't think of it that way." Rather boss-toned, he softens, "I'll deal with anything for you. I'm sorry they've been cruel." 

You exhale. He can tell from the tug of your eyebrows that it's partly for his benefit, and the more lax set of your shoulders that it's partly genuine as you brush it off. "Doesn't matter. Just an excuse to spend more time with you, yeah?" 

"Yes," he says immediately. "You're right, honey. Exactly right." Starting with one of his clumsy neck massages and a much more practised kiss, he thinks. 

[bandgie]

A+ Student

nonidol!Felix x fem!reader

synopsis: Felix knows he has an innocent face with soft features. He likes to think his personality is as sweet as his looks, but he does tend to use it to his advantage sometimes. Especially when it comes to his favorite things, like sex.

warnings: MDNI 18+, DUBIOUS, UNSOLICITED PHOTOS, two-faced Felix, Felix is manipulative but not in a violent or cruel way, PIV, condom use, fingering, reader is really unsure but goes along, SUPER naive reader, college au, reader is a whore in spirit not in practice, correct vaginal terms (we getting educational) idk that's it

3.3k words

Felix’s dorm was surprisingly rather clean when you walked in. He had asked you over to help model for his anatomy homework, preferring a real person rather than just a photo for reference. It was a shocking request, given that you had only spoken to him a handful of times. You were a little uncomfortable with the idea, but seeing Felix’s pleading eyes and hopeful smile made you agree.  

How could you say no to such a face?

Both of you were lounging in the living room, making small talk. You learned that Felix loved baking, going to school events, and hanging out with his closest friends. He was so outgoing he seemed to make friends with every person he came across. 

It wasn't until Hyunjin, his roommate, came home that you both decided to retire to Felix's room. You were nervous, even if it was just for his assignment. You didn't feel too confident in your ability to model, but Felix was very adamant that you were the perfect muse for him.

"Go ahead and just stand there," Felix points to the other side of the room. He has a sketchbook in his hand facing you, "I'll be honest, I suck at drawing. I might be a while." You laugh and shake your head, "It's cool, take your time." Felix smiles at you while you stand in position, still as possible.

Truthfully, Felix doesn't need a model. Hell, he's not even taking an anatomy class. You caught his eye during calculus, and it didn't take long for him to try and meet with you after class. He quickly discovered that you were open to new friends, but you were very picky when it came to the people you slept with. Felix didn't have the time, nor did he care enough, to play the long game just to get in your pants.

It's his dirty little secret, but Felix loves having sex. He doesn't care with who, when, or why, he just can't help but drown in the feeling of ecstasy. Most people are very open to fucking Felix, all he has to do is ask nicely and bat his eyelashes. With you though, you were a little more traditional. He could tell you'd rather make love than fuck, and although Felix has a big heart, he also has a big dick he likes to use often. 

You could feel your muscles twitching. Standing was supposed to be an easy task, but your lower back began to ache. It didn't take long for you to start shifting from side to side, occasionally cracking your neck to loosen up your joints. Felix looks at you softly, a small pucker on his lips. "Are you okay? Is it getting uncomfortable?"

"It's fine," you brush off his concern. "I can manage. I just haven't stood like this for so long before." Felix sets his sketchbook down and shakes his head, "No, I don't want you to feel bored. You can lay on the bed if you want, I can draw you from different angles that way."

You want to tell him that it's not a big deal, that you're not bored. But seeing his piercing brown eyes and hearing his deep voice makes you want to please him. Like a cat, Felix watches as you place yourself on the bed. You smooth your skirt out and silently curse yourself, why did you choose such a short skirt?

Felix followed suit quickly, grabbing his sketchbook back up and standing beside you. His eyes scanned your body as he sketched, and it took every fiber in you not to squirm from his gaze. You always thought his eyes looked beautiful, a pretty golden brown that seemed to melt in the sun. In this moment however, they seem dark. Like a shadow hidden beneath his softness daring to peep out.

Honestly, everything about Felix was beautiful. From his eyes right down to his full, pink lips. They always looked so dainty, plush like they were meant for kissing. It was hard not to stare at it as his tongue poked out to lick his lips almost hungrily. 

You tried to ignore it, the way his gaze trailed your body like he was looking at a meal rather than a mannequin. It went straight to your head, and you hated yourself for having such dirty thoughts. His hands never touched you, but you started wondering how gentle they might feel if they caressed your skin. He told you he was in taekwondo, so it must be easy for him to open your legs.

Stop, you quickly try to drown the thoughts out. You would be horrified if Felix found out that you were getting wet in his bed. That you were picturing him with his nimble fingers on your pussy. How perfect he would look with his golden hair between your-

"Uh-oh," Felix mumbles, quickly catching your attention.

"What's wrong?" Your voice is raspy, and you pray Felix thinks it's because you've been quiet for a while. He lets out a dramatic sigh and tsks, "I pretty much finished the outline, but there was something else I needed to sketch. I don't know if you're comfortable with that though."

You sit up a little, "What is it?"

He fiddles with his pencil and looks at you shyly, "We're mostly focusing on female anatomy. And my professor want us to draw a...vagina." Your expression must say enough, because he quickly continues on. "It's okay if you don't want to! I completely understand. You can leave and I can just look at photos or whatever. I mean, I don't really like looking at photos. I could ask someone else too."

You chew on your bottom lip, unsure of how to answer. It's not like you're a virgin, but you also aren't okay with just anyone seeing your nakedness. Some people may call you a prude, but you honestly just get really nervous when it comes to stuff like that. You would love to be able to sleep around and get that full college experience, but your anxiety sometimes gets the better of you.

Plus, he said someone else. 

"It's o-okay," you nod timidly. You swear Felix's eyes light up brighter than the sun itself, "Really?!" You give another nod, this one more sure, "Yeah, really." Though his smile seems genuine, you can't help but shake the feeling that it wasn't that pure smile you were used to.

Like he completely expected this.

There isn't much time to dwell on your thoughts when he gets on his knees at the edge of the bed. Felix lifts your skirt almost eagerly to see your panties. You screw your eyes shut, hoping that he doesn't see the wet patch that had started form. It's only a matter of time before your pussy starts dripping from his attention. 

Easy. You’re just so easy and Felix can't believe you're so trusting in him. It almost makes him feel bad. There's a slight dampness in your underwear though, and that makes Felix not feel so guilty. With gentle fingers, he grabs your underwear by the hem and pulls it down. He notices how you tense, the way you hesitantly lift your hips to let him completely remove it. 

He especially loves the little gasp you make when the air hits your bare pussy. Felix stares at your glistening folds and licks his lips eagerly. Your pussy just looked so inviting as it drooled for him. He knows better than to touch though, you would be running for the door in a matter of seconds. Felix needs to take it slow, carefully. He needs to ignore how his jeans squish his hard-on and pick up his drawings and pencil instead. 

You can faintly hear the scratching of graphite on paper. If you look up at the ceiling and stare at the white walls, you can imagine you're in a doctor's office. You're trying to think of everything but Felix's eyes on your cunt to keep yourself from getting wet. It's hard not to when he's breathing on your pussy, soft hums from him as he works.

Then, you feel fingers near your lower lips, and you snap your head up. "What are you doing?" Your question makes Felix look up at you, and boy was that a mistake. You can perfectly see his slightly messy hair, the flush in his cheeks, his adoring eyes on yours. 

You clench around nothing.

"Oh! Sorry," he smiles sheepishly at you. "I was just trying to move around your labia. I need to get a good look, I won't touch too much I promise." As much as you want to leave this awkward situation, you can't seem to find the words to tell him that you don't want to. You would hate to upset Felix, and you don't think you could forgive yourself if you hurt his feelings. 

So you suck it up, pray that he can't smell how turned on you are, and nod. "Okay."

His touch resumes, and you can feel his fingers spread your pussy lips open. You shiver, biting your lower lips to stop yourself from whimpering. You can feel blood pumping throughout your body, the way your cunt drips from his brief touches. Felix seems to move your pussy around often, even accidentally brushing his fingers against your bud.

Felix giggles, making you interrogate him. "What's funny?" He shakes his head, his fingers ghosting your clit, "You're just really wet. It's cute." You can feel your face heat up from his answer. "I-its a normal response," you try to play it off. "You're touching me...there! I can't help how it gets."

Your explanation has Felix laughing, making you blush more. "I know," he says softly. "It just lets me know I'm doing a good job and that you're not in pain." You nod at his reasoning, feeling somewhat relaxed that Felix didn't make you feel bad about it. 

There are a few silent seconds before he speaks again, "Do you mind if I enter a few fingers in? I just need to get a feel of the vaginal canal, it's the last part." You groan internally, but you have already come this far. "That's fine, but won't that affect your drawing?"

Felix hasn't been drawing since he started playing with your pussy, but you were too busy focusing on not getting wet that you hadn't noticed. "I think I can manage." He smiles brightly at you.

Felix lifts your legs up so your knees are pointed at the sky. The skirt covers his face, and you're thankful that it hides your aroused expression. You don't need to see how close Felix is to your cunt, you swear you can feel his nose brush against you when he slips his finger inside.

You jolt at the intrusion. It's not painful in the slightest, being that you were wet enough to take him in. It's just been a while since anything's been inside you, and the gentle stretch is easy to find pleasurable. Your mouth falls open in a silent moan when he gently starts pumping his digit. It's embarrassing that you can hear your arousal with every stroke, but Felix doesn't comment on it at all.

He's starting slow on purpose. Felix wants you to open up for him so that when he begins the main course, you'll have no doubt that you want to help him out. Your walls are soft, warm, and tight when he slides his finger in and out. He watches as your pussy drenches itself, a clear sign that you're preparing for something bigger. 

Experimentally, he slides another finger in. You don't say anything, though you begin breathing heavier. Felix can tell it's getting harder for you to keep quiet, you moans become muffled from covering your mouth with your hands. There's no way you can still think you're helping Felix with his anatomy class, but your compliance says otherwise. 

"I-is this helping?" You stutter. You tense when you feel Felix shove his fingers deep in you, biting your lips to hold back a squeal. "Yes, but I'm thinking I might need something bigger." His voice isn't as sweet anymore. There's a rasp to it, a deepness you've only heard in certain adult films. 

"Bigger? What do you mean?"

Felix's fingers don't stop as he pumps into you, as if he's trying to coax the moans out of you. "I mean, the fingers help get a feel. But it's really hard to properly know how deep it can go with them. Ya know?" His accent sends shivers down your spine, and you have to tighten your core to stop creaming on his fingers. 

"What would you use then?" You shake when Felix pulls his fingers out, a whine leaving your lips from the loss of contact. It's been long, so long since you felt like this. Dripping with need, wishing you had something inside you to cream on, the closeness of another person. It's hard to not think of sex when the most gorgeous man is front of you, examining your body for a mere grade. 

You hear Felix stand up, and you lift your head up to see him. He taps the crotch of his pants, "This. I mean I get it if you don't want to. I just don't have any tools on me, and I would rather use something I'm familiar with too." Your legs slightly open from the thought of fucking him, but you're still uncertain.

"I dunno Felix," you bite your lower lip. "Is it really necessary?"

He ruffles his hair and nods. "For me? Yes. I really need to pass this class, and I'm willing to do anything for it. I'll wear a rubber of course. But I totally get it if you want to leave. You've already done a lot for me, and I don't wanna keep bothering you. I'll just ask someone else." Guilt-tripping is Felix's speciality in manipulating, and he's thankful for his sweet face that makes him seem so innocent.

"You're not bothering me," you say quickly. "I can do it. You don't need to ask for anyone else. I'll help you." To show your willingness, you reach down to grab the under parts of your thighs and expose yourself to Felix. His eyes land on your sex immediately, and he reaches for a condom in his pocket.

Why would he have a rubber ready to go?

Felix quickly unbuckles his belt and drops his pants to his ankles. He has no shame, no remorse as he pulls his boxers down to reveal his cock. He can feel your gaze on it, loving how you unconsciously lick your lips in anticipation. Felix places the tip of the condom on and rolls it down. He would kill to fuck you raw, but he doesn't want to push his luck.

Felix grabs you by the hips and pulls you down to him. You gasp at his strength, and he smiles in return. He moves one hand from your waist to angle his cock at your entrance. You can feel his tip sliding against your clit, making you moan. He shifts on his feet before sliding his tip in. 

You whimper as he slides in, the lubricated condom making it easier for the intrusion. Maybe you should've told him you were on the pill, but you didn't want to take away from his concentration. Felix should focus on getting that A+, not fucking you senseless. 

His thrusts are slow, and you're grateful that he's giving you time to adjust to his size. Every drag of his cock makes you cry out, and he groans when you clench down. He softly moans your name, and you try to hide your face in the pillows.

Thin strings of white cream start collecting on Felix's dick. It makes him drive deeper, harder into your pussy. He lifts your legs up to his chest, angling himself to have his cock slide all the way into you. The feel of his tip kissing your cervix makes you whine. A loud, high pitched noise that bounces off the walls. 

"Mmm yeah you got a deep pussy," he confirms. His breathing is labored and his eyes can't seem to focus on one thing. Felix could stare at where your bodies connect, the way your breasts bounce, the fucked out expression on your face. There's just so much eye candy that it's impossible to favor one.

Your sounds though, those are his favorite to hear. He prays that Hyunjin can hear how well you're being fucked. There's nothing more satisfying than knowing that Felix can please you in this way, giving you what you've been needing all this time. 

All you can do is make uh uh uh sounds when he starts slapping his hips against your ass. The squelching sound is so vulgar and you try to ignore the fact that it's your pussy being so wet. You can feel how you cunt pulses out arousal and cream around his cock. He seems to rather enjoy it though, maybe it's important for his assignment.

You can feel the fire in your belly, the shivers across your body, and the tightening in your core to tell you that you're close. You don't want to finish before Felix can complete his work. "Felix! I'm-mmf-I'm gonna cum! Oh shit, I'm gonna cum!"

Rather than pulling out and prolonging his task, he fucks you harder. He brings one hand down to rub your clit. You whimper and grip your thighs harder. "No! Felix I'm gonna cum, and you're not gonna-fuucckkk..." Your orgasm hits you hard, stopping you from talking. The contraction of your walls has Felix panting, making him not too far from finishing himself. 

Your trembles don't stop when he keeps fucking into you. He's gripping your calves as he drives into you. You've made his cock and thighs so wet with your release that he doesn't notice that you've also wet his sketchbook. Not that he needs it anyway, he was just drawing scribbles the whole time.

Cries leave your lips from the overstimulation, but Felix doesn't bother to stop playing with your clit with his cock in you. If anything, it makes you keep gushing out cream. It brings Felix closer to the edge before he finally pulls out, ripping the condom off to stroke himself to completion. 

You finally feel your body relax at the withdrawal of his touch. You're too busy catching your breath that you don't notice Felix jerking himself off until you feel warm liquid paint your pussy. You look downwards to see Felix cumming on your thighs, your cunt, and lower stomach. 

His moans at the sight, his lips red and parted. Felix doesn't waste time in reaching down to the floor for his phone, quickly snapping a picture of your soiled pussy before you can protest.

"Felix!" You gasp at him. "I didn't say-"

"It's just for a reference. In case I forget." He throws his phone back on the ground and smears his cum across your stomach. You should argue with him and tell him that you want the photo deleted. There's no energy in you to fight though, and you find yourself thinking he might actually need it for other assignments.

-

You leave about an hour later with Felix thanking you profusely. "I think I'll pass the class. Thank you so much for your help."

Once you're out of his dorm, he runs back to his room and opens the group chat named 'My Boys.'

Felix: [image sent]

...

Hyun: not surprised, I could hear you guys from my room

Channie: fucken hell again? that's the third one this week

Quokka: and you didn't share??

I.N: im literally in class can you not

seungie: I second

Minho: virgins, that's a nice pussy. you got more pics?

Binnie: can I have a turn with her?

Felix giggles at the messages, kicking his feet in the air like a child. He quickly responds back to his friends. 

Felix: nope, all mine ♡

a/n: damn this took a few days ngl. hoped you liked, feedback is appreciated!! proofreader/editor: @then-make-me (thank you!)

[killerpancakeburger]

Another Headache

SUMMARY: You get another one of your chronic headaches, and the meds don't don't work. Soap's by your side though.

PAIRING: Soap x F!Reader (Soap calls Reader "pretty girl" once, that's the only mark of gender)

TAGS: Hurt/Comfort, fluff, suggestive at the end, Soft!Soap, Established relationship, Civilian!Reader, Reader works as Price's assistant.

WARNINGS: The suggestiveness at the end, mention of chronic pain.

WORDS COUNT: 1.8k

A/N: Lots of Soaps I like in there... pouting Soap, drawing Soap, needy Soap, Human calculator Soap (because of that one post that I KNOW I REBLOGGED BUT CANT FIND!! CURSE U TUMBLR!)

“1245.87… minus 56.43… divided by 98.62….” you mumble out loud to yourself, painstakingly inputting each digit into your calculator.

“12.06,” pipes up Soap without missing a beat, not looking up from his sketchbook where he's drawing.

You look up from the device and throw him a mildly annoyed glare, assuming he concocted a random number to confuse you. It's the first explanation that comes to your mind, the most logical one, even though it would be out of character for Johnny to make your work harder, even as a joke. 

“Very funny.”

Then you press the result touch and your eyes widen as the machine provides the exact same answer.

“How in the hell…?”

You look at your boyfriend again, irritation gone out the window, replaced by amazement and a dash of admiration.

“Do you have a calculator for brain or something?”

“S'basic stuffs for sniping and demolition works.” 

The explanation is way too abrupt for anyone who knows how much Johnny enjoys his job, rambling, and rambling about his job. You raise an inquisitive eyebrow.

“Can you develop?”

An amused smirk stretches his lips as he still persists in not looking at you.

“Bonnie, ye need tae focus oan yer work, or ye'll git us in trouble.”

You groan in protest. Being lectured about trouble by Soap “Troublemaker” Mactavish out of all people, you couldn’t make it up. That doesn't make him less right unfortunately. 

Your supervisor, John Price, only allowed his Sergeant to hang out in your office during his free time on the express condition that it would not impact your tasks. You initially couldn’t imagine that blue-eyed menace sitting still for hours only for your sake; to do your own thing in your own side of the room in silence, without any physical contact, nor any other sign of acknowledgement? That was Ghost's idea of a good time, but Soap's idea of torture.

However, it turned out you underestimated his willpower, and his determination to take advantage of every moment that could be shared with you. The intimate knowledge that he was holding back this whole time, and that the minute the clock would strike the end of your workday, he would be all over you like usual, warmed your heart and sent pleasing tingles everywhere in your body.

Sympathetic to your plight, Johnny adds with indulgence and cheekiness in his tone: 

“Ah ken how much ye like mah voice, but we'll make up fur lost time after.”

You roll your eyes at the suggestive taunt, still recognizing the comment for what it is - a consolation to compensate for his refusal to extend earlier. You bite your tongue to keep yourself from retorting about how distracting he's actually being even when drawing in silence, his biceps bulging with his posture, and the mix of concentration and serenity on his face strangely captivating. 

The expression he wears when sketching is one you're particularly fond of. It reveals a different kind of intensity than the one he usually displays, when eager for battle or indignant in front of injustice. It is one not many are privy to, since he tends to favor the solitude of his bedroom to scribble, making this scene all the more special and giving it an intimate tone that's enough to make your heart race.

A loving smile on your face, you throw yourself into your work.

You can feel it coming from miles away.

That accursed headache. Pushing behind your forehead, between your eyebrows and sneaking behind your temples.

Its reasons could very well be everything or nothing; the mix of cold weather and your own tiredness, the acute light from the winter sun blinding your eyes in the absence of sunglasses, the long hours spent in front of a screen.

It is light yet harsh all at once. Muffled pain always felt worse than a sharp one. Yet you know from experience it is only going to hurt more from here on.

Gritting your teeth in a grimace of discomfort, you press your hand against your forehead. The coolness of your fingers provides a respite, albeit a short-term one.

Is there even any painkillers left in your bag? You can’t remember the state of your stock-

A familiar box is suddenly moved in your line of sight. Your usual brand of aspirin.

You look up to see Soap staring at you expectingly. You take the medecine with a grateful smile.

“You really are full of surprises today!”

He pouts as he hands you your water bottle.

“Wi’ how often ye git those bloody things, a'd have tae be a bloody eejit for nae knowing how tae deal with ‘em.”

He sounds like your chronic migraines offended him, personally, and it's both adorable and hilarious.

“That's still very sweet,” you insist after swallowing the treatment.

He brings a lock of hair behind your ear before tenderly kissing your forehead.

“That's me, “Sweet Soap” Mactavish.”

That drags a giggle out of you.

An hour later, as the meds miserably failed, you’re not laughing at all anymore.

At least your work is done for the day, granting you the luxury to suffer on the rec room's couch. Laying on your back, head on the armrest, you’re pressing the heels of your hands into your closed eyelids while groaning in agony. Any bright light or screen increases the pain, so keeping your eyes closed is the only protection conceivable.

Seated right by you, your legs laying over his lap, Soap squeezes your tigh in support, itching to bring you relief but unsure how.

“What can I do?”

You remove your hands from your face to peek at him. If the ache behind your temples wasn’t occupying all space in your thoughts, you would have fussed over his chagrined expression that wasn’t without reminding you of a worried puppy. He was torn between concern for you and frustration of not being able to do anything. Johnny absolutely hated not being capable of remedying a problem. It made you want to cover his face in kisses, not only to placate his frustration, but also because you were filled with cute aggression.

“Well, I have this theory that if someone hit me really hard in the head with a baseball bat, it would help…”

“How the bloody ‘ell would it help!?”

“The pain from the blow would replace the headache.”

“How does replacing pain with pain helps…?”

“I prefer the acute pain of a strike than the dull one of a headache. It's way more bearable.”

“M not hitting you with a baseball bat,” he exclaimed, clearly convinced that the pain had made you go insane.

“I'll just ask Simon instead.”

At this point, you’re insisting more to rile him up rather than out of seriousness.

“Nae yer not,” he retorts vehemently, voice bordering on a growl.

You're about to laugh when he suddenly gets up, still taking care to not send your legs flying off the sofa. Worried that you managed to actually piss him off, you half pick yourself up, raising on your forearms, but he exits the room before you can catch his expression, ordering you to not go anywhere. Not like you were planning to anyway.

You flop back on the couch, closing your eyes and massaging your temples. A moment later, deliciously cold fingers rest on your forehead. You hum in appreciation.

“Better?”

“I love you,” you declare boldly.

The husky laughter Soap emits in response is almost as soothing as his touch.

You suddenly open your eyes as a realization dawns on you.

“Johnny, why are your hands fucking freezing?”

“Put ‘em under cold water,” he retorts casually, like it was evident.

You sigh, closing your eyelids, endeared by his behavior but also a bit fed up.

“You're crazy.”

He chuckles again.

“Crazy in love maybe.”

You don't need to look at him to know the smug smirk he's displaying with that comment.

“Wipe that goofy smile off your face, Mactavish.”

“Make me.”

You playfully slap whatever part of his body is nearby, then sigh once more.

“It's only a temporary solution, though. Unless you intend to spend all night turning your hands into ice cubes.”

“Ah could try-”

“Johnny, no.”

“Johnny, yes.”

“Don't be silly.”

“Will have tae be, unless ye've got a better option.”

“Laying in the dark with a wet cloth could help… or at least it's supposed to.”

This is how you ended up in Soap's bedroom with the lights off, both of you laying on his bed, you nuzzled on his torso with his arm around your waist, a washcloth soaked with freezing water on your forehead.

“Is it working?” he asks, barely a few minutes after settling down.

You cannot contain a smile at the impatience in his voice.

“More or less. But what sucks the most with this method is.. “

“Aye?”

“I'm so freaking bored. Cannot read, cannot use my phone, cannot fall asleep either. And with no distraction, I cannot focus on anything but the pain.”

“Ah could distract ye... If ye wanted.” he immediately suggests.

“What are you thinking of, pretty boy? Surely nothing… inappropriate.’

Despite your playful words, your fingers start idly running down his chest, and the shiver that travels his skin in response doesn't leave you indifferent. You hear him suck in a breath, and he grasps your wandering hand only to press it flat against his pectoral, even raising his breast to deepen the contact. Meanwhile the hand holding you tightens its grip on your flesh before traveling lower to grab your ass. 

“Now that yer mentioning it, ah read online that it could help wi’ headaches…”

“That what could help, Johnny?”

“An orgasm, bonnie,” he rasps.

You let out an amused sigh at the bold statement, trying to hide how much effect the rasp of his voice has on you.

“Hear me oot-” he pleads, apparently worried that you’re taking him for a perverted loser obsessed with his own pleasure over your comfort. “A'm not bullshitting ye-”

“I know, baby,” you appease him. “I know about the orgasm being a thing.”

“Ye know?... wait, ye knew this whole time? Why didn’t ye say anythin’?”

“Let's just say I'm skeptical of that method.”

“Did ye already try it?”

“Nope. But I'll believe it when I see it.”

“Then let me make ye a believer, pretty girl. Please? Pretty please? Will make ye feel so, so good, promise. Lemme take away yer pain, hen.”

He punctuates his begging by burning kisses, on your temple, your cheek, your jaw, your neck. His fingers sneak under your shirt, tickling your waist. The neediness in his voice and his touch makes you whine his name helplessly.

“Johnny…”

He echoes your whimper with a moan of your name.

“Alright, alright,” you capitulate. “For the sake of experimentation.”

[denwritesandcries]

Work of Art – H.C

Pairing: loser!hazel x artist!reader

Summary: You join a fight club just to spend more time with your pretty friend, Hazel Callahan. The fact that you're running out of time to finish an art project is just a detail.

Word count: 3,5k.

Content: loser!hazel trying to be smooth, sylvie being a chaotic ala, cursing, flirting, mutual pining, friends to lovers, my questionable comedy, a little blood at the start, reader is a SIMP.

Note: This came up to me after the ‘these girls are ugly’ scene and I had to make a dramatic story about it. I'm so soft for this character, I just wanna hold her and tell her how beautiful she is.

English is not my first language.

There's a sketchbook opened on your lap, a coal pencil on your hand and a fight happening in front of you.

Technically, that's what you were supposed to be doing too – fighting with someone – it was fight club, after all. Instead, you were sitting against a wall, hastily trying to finish a sketch for your art club project.

In your defense, you weren't even going to join this self-defense club in the first place, having been quite happy just occupying yourself with your art club after school, but your friend Sylvie came up to you one day completely excited about the idea, saying that she really wanted to participate, but that to keep going they needed more members and there enters you.

You said no right away, claiming that you would end up getting overwhelmed trying to balance both clubs with all the meetings, but Sylvie could be so convincing – more like insistent – with her methods, even shouting "PLEASE COME!" in a hallway full of people during classes, that you ended up giving in to when it became too embarrassing. Therefore, you agreed to go to a meeting without the promise of staying.

You regretted that decision and swore to burn Sylvie’s stupid beanie in the first punch that hitted you. You were terrible at fighting.

After being beaten up by a girl you didn't even know the name of, you ended up with a split lip and a bruise forming on your cheek and were ready to go find your friend and gently let her down by telling her that this really wasn't your thing, that is until Hazel Callahan approaches you.

Hazel. The same Hazel who sat three seats away from you in history class for four years, with whom you usually paired up during assignments but didn't talk much. The same Hazel who is standing in front of you with a weird smile and a washcloth in her hand.

“Uh…” you start, not quite sure what to say, “Do you need anything?”

"Oh!" She seems to realize that she's been silent and staring at you for too long, shaking her head, "No, not really, but you looked like you needed it," Hazel holds out the washcloth to you.

You notice that she's doing her best to look casual, shrugging her shoulders with fake indifference and pointing to your bleeding lip with the hand holding the cloth while the other is stuffed into the pocket of her baggy, ripped jeans. The sight is so captivating that it makes you smile even when you don’t want to, with the sudden feeling that you two should interact more.

“Oh, what a gentleman," you joke when you accept and take the cloth from her hand and are happy with the fact that the fabric is dark when your blood stains it, "You came to comfort me after spending all this time watching my ass being kicked?"

Her eyes widened in panic and Hazel squealed like an alarmed puppy, "No!" She exclaims, "I didn't mean that, really. It's just that you seemed upset and I—"

“Haze, it’s okay." You interrupt and reassure her with a gentle hand on her arm, “I’m just messing with you.”

She shakes her head, still in denial, her face red: "But you weren't that bad."

You snort, any trace of upset seeming to leave your body, “But it was bad.”

Hazel looks away from you while playing with the rings on one of her hands, she seems to want to tell you something, so you wait in silence until she has the courage.

"So…" she starts, "Are you staying? At the club, I mean."

No, you want to say. This place is completely chaotic, I have other things I'd like to do and I bet I'll get my ass kicked every time I go up against someone here. But Hazel is looking at you with her head cocked to the side and bright, hopeful blue eyes and what kind of monster would you be to deny something and wipe that look off her face?

“Maybe," you answer instead, an uncertain smile on your face, “I’m still thinking about it.”

That seems to be enough to satisfy her and you quickly turn around, putting the bloodstained cloth inside your backpack and packing your things to leave when you realize that you two were the only ones left in the place.

"Walk with me?" You nod towards the exit for Hazel to follow you and she does so shyly.

As you walk around the school grounds your bodies are close enough that your shoulders touch as you walk and the interaction brings you a surprising amount of comfort.

"You know," Hazel starts again, her voice at a high pitch, she clears her throat with a fist against her mouth before continuing, "You don't have to if you don't want to, but uh—" Hazel stutters, face red again, "It would be really nice if you stayed.”

You turn your head to look at her side face, her nervous attitude warming your heart in a jarring way and you suddenly wonder why you and Hazel have never been closer before, even though you've technically known each other for so many years. It seemed almost unfair to be deprived of her company for so long.

“This fighting thing really isn’t for me,” you shrugged and continued before a look of disappointment could wash over her, “But I think people make it worth coming back for.”

You hoped she would notice the flirting tone in your words; Hazel could be terrible at reading between the lines.

"Oh, you're right!" She replied with an excited smile, "I managed to make a lot of friends there since it started, maybe you can too!”

You raised an eyebrow at her, waiting for Hazel to realize what she said just to tease her, and she did, panicking.

"I didn't mean that you don't have friends!" She shouted with a wave of her arms, "I just— I just—"

Hazel's calm facade falls completely and you feel a laugh grow in your chest as you laugh openly. She takes a moment to compose herself before relaxing a little when she sees that you're not bothered.

"Okay, got it." you say with a final giggle, "Don't worry, I'll show up since it would be so nice if I stayed."

Sure, she may not have understood your flirting the first time, but her red face up to her ears and shy gaze stuck on the floor could only be an indication that she had now caught on.

When you reach the point where your paths part, you can't resist talking to Hazel one last time:

"Haze," You call in a relaxed tone as she heads to her car, "Is that really a women's empowerment club?"

Hazel smiles as she opens the door, without any nervousness this time, "I have no idea, but I like it."

You think you might like it too if you were going to see her like this more often.

When you get home that day, with your untouched art supplies weighing down your backpack, there's a message on your phone left from Sylvie. That little bastard had left without you even noticing.

slaygirl:

hey what u throught about the club

*thouth

sHIT

*thought

runned right home when I saw your mad face lol

You snorted with a roll of eyes. You had already made the decision anyway, there was no point in actually being mad at her.

you:

well I guess is not THAT bad

I'll make the sacrifice and participate

slaygirl:

HELL YEAH LET'S GOOO

told u would like it

You ask yourself one last time if you should really do this or not; the times between the fight club and art club meetings were so close together, it could easily turn into a mess. Then you think about Hazel and the way she seemed enchanted by the idea of you being there.

Fuck it, you thought. You can handle both.

You couldn't handle both. That was why you found yourself against that wall now, running out of time and without the proper sketches you were supposed to present later.

It was a relatively simple exercise that you had to do: draw everyday landscapes in charcoal pencil by sight. The problem is that you didn't have time to draw the requested amount and you haven't had much inspiration other than classrooms and parts of the school lately.

Luckily, no one really minded when you decided to opt to just be a spectator today; PJ and Josie being too busy flirting with Brittany and Isabel and Sylvie being just excited about getting into a fight with someone.

"And what are you doing there?" Hazel's voice scares you as she sits down next to you with a curious look and a small smile at the sound of your surprised squeak.

You had no idea where she had come from, having quickly talked to her as soon as you arrived and then gone straight to your task, but you were very happy to have her there now. You've been getting closer over the last few weeks since joining the club, just as you wanted, which has made all of your juggling between tasks totally worth it.

"Shouldn't you be beating up someone?" You dodged the question, giving her a look of fake reprimand.

She scoffed with a hand gesture, "I'll be right there, I just passed by to check on you." She pointed with her chin to the notebook with you, "So?”

You shrug, "Just trying to finish this project, but nothing seems to make me want to draw." You turn the sketchbook so Hazel can see the simple outline of the open area in which you practice defense, your hands are stained with coal pencil and the sheet is messy with outlines of bodies overlapping the paper.

For the confused look on her face and the slight tilt of her head, you can tell Hazel doesn't quite understand what you mean, but she gives you a reassuring smile anyway.

"You're talented, I'm sure you'll figure that out soon."

You feel a stupid smile growing on your face and you can't help the way your voice softens, "Thanks, Haze."

She returns your smile for a moment, but quickly looks away, seeming to want to break off the interaction.

Hazel breaks the silence that suddenly settles in: “Will you teach me?”, she asks.

You look at her confused, “What? Drawing?”

“Hm-hm,” She nods with a pout, “I always see you drawing during class and I'm terrible at it.”

You find her extremely captivating.

“Okay,” you snort. “I’ll give you drawing lessons if you give me fighting lessons. You’re better at this than me. Than everyone here, actually.”

And then she gets nervous again, cheeks colored a soft red, stammering, “Oh. I— hm, alright.”

You think maybe she's going to say something more, but Hazel gets up and shakes her head like a puppy and your heart warms, before saying goodbye, giving you an awkward pat on the shoulder and running off to find a partner for the day's exercises.

A sigh leaves your chest as your gaze follows her as she walks, deciding to watch a little until you get the courage to finish your work.

Hazel is paired with a girl you had never spoken to but who you were sure was in your English class. A very pretty girl, by the way. It annoyed you how close they were and the way Hazel touched the girl so she could fix her position before they started fighting, the same way she did to you when you asked for help with your movements the other day; and it annoyed you even more the way the girl seemed to lean into her touch, exactly like you did on the few occasions when Hazel touched you for more than a few seconds.

Damn, you wish you knew the girl's name so you could actually get mad.

Your stomach turned uncomfortably the more you watched the duo, didn't that girl know that Hazel is... what? Your girlfriend? Your friend who you flirt with? This was practically the same as nothing. You had nothing. You couldn't be mad.

But man, you are annoyed.

With a shake of your head, you look away from the scene and open your sketchbook again, this time to a clean page. Better get back to work.

When you look up again, Hazel has the girl trapped in her arms. The way her best features are marked is unfairly hot, your silly jealousy ends up forgotten in favor of admiring how beautiful she is.

Unconsciously, you begin to trace the outline of her strong jaw onto the paper, letting the simple body outline you had begun take shape.

To you, Hazel was a work of art in every sense of the word, from her appearance to her most unusual mannerisms. Everything about her seemed to scream art and drawing her was an extremely satisfying action. It wasn't even the first time you had portrayed her, having made small sketches during the times you worked together in class and given them all to her – you wish you had kept at least one now –, maybe that's why she asked you for lessons anyway.

Either way, anything involving Hazel is more interesting than your original project.

You notice the way her hair falls over her face, the dark color contrasting with her big blue eyes, and you think it's a shame you didn't bring any supplies you could use to color them. There is a small cut where a yellowish bruise is on her cheek; Hazel seemed to always be recovering from some injury, even though she was the one who won most of the fights, not that you would count – liar, you did.

You draw the outline of her nose and lips with the practiced precision of someone who has done this many times before; she's wearing a dark green button-down shirt, one of your favorites on her, along with baggy black jeans and an old pair of vans; her hands are missing their usual rings and there are little green dinosaurs in her socks.

You won't add all of it, of course, it's not a full body drawing, but you can't help but notice every little detail about her.

Time passes without you noticing, your project remains completely forgotten while you draw Hazel from memory, no longer needing to turn to the annoying vision of her and the other girl. When the meeting is almost finished, Sylvie approaches you smiling and looks over your shoulder.

"Dude!" She exclaims in a knowing tone, “So that’s why you actually agreed to join the club!”

“Shush girl, do you want everyone here to know!?” You whisper-shouting and quickly pull the beanie she was wearing over her nose tightly, ignoring the chocked ‘fucking rude’ that Sylvie lets out.

“You should tell her." Sylvie declares, because of course she would understand right away that you have a crush.

“What?" You ask, alarmed, “Like right now?”

"Yeah!" She pushes your shoulder in encouragement, “The day is almost over, it’s not like we have anything else to do anyway.” Sylvie shrugged, as if it were the easiest thing in the world.

“I can’t just go there and tell.” You mumble, “And I have things to do.”

“Oh, come on! I’m sure she likes you back!”

“And how can you know that?” You asked.

“How come you don’t know that?” Sylvie replied, “It’s kinda obvious.”

“Okay, whatever you say, but I’m not going to tell her anything now.” You insist stubbornly.

Sylvie looks like she's about to say something else, but a tricksy smile forms on her face when she sees someone approaching.

"Tell what?" Hazel's voice coming from nearby startles you and when you turn your face to find her, she's alone, no sign of the other girl in sight.

You were about to stutter something in response – and most likely make a fool of yourself – but Sylvie was quicker.

“Oh!” Your friend exclaims in false innocence, “I was trying to convince her to show you her drawing, but she’s such a perfectionist.”

You elbow her in panic and Sylvie lightly tugs at your hair as she stands up; you don't notice the dirty look Hazel gives to the interaction, wringing her hands in her pockets.

Sylvie walks away arching her eyebrows in a suggestive expression at you and your cheeks burn at the implication as Hazel takes her place beside you.

“So…” she begins, her voice strangely tense, “Did you finish what you were drawing? Can I see it?"

“Well…” You feel nervous, there’s no way to get out of this without making her sad and that’s the last thing you would want to do. Taking a deep breath, you decide to go ahead: “Inspiration came to and I drew something, but it’s not for my project, I don’t know if you’ll like it.”

"Yes, I will!" Hazel adjusts herself excitedly, your knees touching, “Can I see it?” she repeats.

You gulp and nod, turning the sketchbook towards her. Hazel lens even closer to you to see the result, her chin brushing your shoulder and a hand running up your back and resting there, surprising you, you feel the coldness of her hand and the outline of her rings – when she did put them back? – through the fabric of your t-shirt.

You feel the moment Hazel registers the drawing on the sheet and her breath hitches, the action sending a shiver up your spine.

"Then?" You ask nervously, “What do you think?”

But Hazel remains silent. When you turn to look at her, her jaw is dropped in complete disbelief and a deep blush covers her face from her cheeks to her ears.

“Haze?” You call, unsure.

“That’s— it’s beautiful.” She stutters, one hand delicately touches the paper, coal staining her fingers, “It’s me. It’s me… beautiful.”

“You are beautiful,” you correct without hesitation and Hazel’s gaze turns to you, “That’s nothing compared to you.”

She hesitates for a moment, “Why did you do that?”

"Why?" You echo, “You know why.”

And Hazel knows. You know she knows. There hasn't been a single day that the two of you haven't flirted, that there hasn't been this tension between you. There's no way she doesn't know, but someone needs to admit it.

She looks at you expectantly, the same lovely hope as before is back in her eyes, and again, who are you to take that look off her face?

You sigh, “I have a crush on you, Haze.”

She snorts, voice shaking in a confident attempt of a joke: “I know.”

You raise an eyebrow and give her an unimpressed look and Hazel immediately backtracks.

"Sorry! Sorry!" She exclaims, “I just— I like you too, a lot.”

You feel a smile tugging at your lips when you put the notebook and pencil aside to look at her fully and your faces are so close that you would only have to lean in for your lips to touch. God, you've never wanted something so much before.

You notice every little detail of her face; a fallen eyelash on her cheek, the faint marks of dark circles over her eyes, freckles over her nose that you had never gotten close enough before to see.

Hazel looks at you like she can't believe what's happening and honestly, neither can you.

“Please,” she whispers, eyes locked on your lips.

Hazel Callahan was the most beautiful work of art you had ever seen and as an artist, you know you should never touch artworks, but Hazel asks you and you could never deny her anything.

Your lips meet and it's softer than you thought it could be – even though you've thought about it many times then – and your hands rest on her cheeks like they belong there, she lets out a sigh of contentment that warms your heart.

When you pull away, there's a coal stain on Hazel's face from where your hand was before and her pupils are dilated like dark pits, it's unfair the way it makes your heart skip a beat.

She kisses you again, shorter this time and you would have chased her lips if it weren't for someone's voice scaring you:

“ATTA GIRL, I TOLD YOU YOU COULD DO IT!” Sylvie is on the other side of the gym, cheering and pointing at you.

You had completely forgotten that the meeting wasn't over yet.

“Dude." PJ starts on the other side, “When did this happend?”

“You know this is a public space right?” Josie asks with a hand on her hip, “Don’t make out here, man.”

You shake your head in amusement and start to gather your things, “Okay, okay,” you say. “Let’s make out somewhere else then. Come on Haze.”

Hazel seems too flustreaded to speak and doesn't argue as you take her hand and pull her along as you leave to the sounds of your friends cheering and joking.

“Where are we going?” She asks, you’re still holding hands.

You shrug innocently, “I promised you drawing lessons, didn’t I?”

In the end you don't show up at the art club that day, too busy spending time with your newest girlfriend and it's totally worth it.

[verysium]

how bllk boys would react when u draw them, could either be rlly good or rlly SHIT u choose idk (plz include barou and the itoshi bros) 😊😊😊 i love you and ur works, and the way u write the boys and ur content makes me laugh fr, one of my fave bllk authors mwjahaja 😓 have a great day, ily:3 and the icks post made me smile like all of ur posts do!

thank you so much anon ♡ this ask had me contemplating very seriously, so apologies if it's a bit late:

sae is definitely awestruck in some way, even if he doesn't immediately show it. i think i talked about this in a previous headcanon, but he has a deep-seated admiration for artists who can grasp abstract concepts because he himself cannot. he would be somewhat flattered if you drew him since he's never considered his own appearance to be particularly inspiring. would be appalled if you considered him your muse. like....why? to him, his looks aren't anything of importance (clearly he is blind.) would probably say your drawing was inaccurate but then hang it up by his nightstand so he can look at it every night before he goes to sleep. if you're a full-time artist, he probably keeps a little stash of your gifts in a small box beneath his bed. sometimes if he's having a bad day or he lost a game, he goes back and flips through them just to make himself feel better. secretly loves the way you draw his bangs and the little swoop you do in your signature.

kaiser corrects every single detail in your drawing. stands behind you and gives you little pointers here and there. he should have an 8-pack, not a 6-pack. his jawline isn't sharp enough in your initial sketch. poses shirtless in front of you so that way you can encapsulate the full extent of his sexiness. shows off your drawing to every living creature in existence. "isn't he handsome?" like...🙄 yeah, michael we know. he's probably the hardest to draw because of his tattoo, so i think he genuinely appreciates it when you put in the effort to capture his intricacies. will never admit this but he's low-key proud of you and your talent (mostly just your ability to make him look good.)

rin is one of those people who doesn't understand hyperrealism. like why does he need a highly detailed sketch of his face when he can just take a photo and print it out? i don't think he understands art in general. probably despises modern art too. he'd take one look at a rothko painting and be like....i could draw this too...in my sleep. similar to sae, i feel like he's just numb to the sentimentality of gift-giving. doesn't understand why you would waste your time drawing a little picture of him, but it does make his heart feel strangely fuzzier, so maybe he'll keep it this one time. lo and behold, months later he now has a collection of your drawings he doesn't have the heart to throw away. refuses to let isagi or anyone see them because they're meant for his eyes only.

yukimiya has impeccable taste. in fact, he's probably an artist himself. i think it'd be cute if you both drew little sketches of each other throughout the course of your relationship. but neither of you ever knew until you gifted him your sketchbook for christmas, and he was like....guess what...i drew you too. thinks you're pretty even when you don't think so. sometimes when you're having a coffee shop date, he scribbles a portrait of you on his napkin because the sunlight hit your cheek just right in that moment, and the birds were chirping, and he fell in love all over again. i think it's also tragic that he's slowly losing his eyesight, so he won't be able to enjoy your drawings and the vibrant colors you infuse into them. that's why he treasures them even more. probably thumbs over the pages from time to time. memorizes every stroke and line.

isagi likes the way you always draw that little tuft of hair that sticks up on the top of his head. it looks like a cute little bean sprout. he pins your drawings up above his bed next to a polaroid of you two in germany. buys you a professional art set for your birthday. if you're a digital artist, he buys you a new tablet and stylus.

bachira adds his own doodles next to yours except he makes a chibi version of everything. always pesters you to include his little fangs. uses the boldest combination of colors. he would definitely be a messy artist. paint everywhere. fingernails perpetually stained a different color. you both draw during class, so when you two trade notebooks to actually study......there aren't any actual notes.

barou acts like he doesn't know what to do with your drawing of him but then the next day you visit his house, and he's already put your artwork in a fancy picture frame. refuses to let anyone else even stand within a ten meter radius next to it because he doesn't want their "nasty fingerprints" all over your beautiful masterpiece.

[potionpeddlerpatchy]

word count: 10.2K

paring: Sero x fReader

warning(s): dirty talking, fingering(f! receiving), premature ejaculation, messy sex, semi-public sex (if ya squint) - you know the works here, pretty standard smut, nothing too crazy.

authors note: Happy Belated Birthday to me! Not only did the amazing Onyx give me this idea MONTHS ago about the dynamic between Sero and I, but this won the poll for what I was going to work on next - and though I went with Bakugou's story first (cause it was fresher in my mind) I have finally finished this! AND OH BOY, how self-indulgent I was with this one - I am not known for my dialog but couldn't help but put lots in here! That being said, I did try and keep this as generic as I could, just may not be AS generic, ya know? Anyway, I hope you all love this glorified tape dispenser as much as I do~🔮

Sero had always loved to draw, even when he was a little kid. What started as scribbles covering the walls of his home turned into small doodles - those that filled his notebooks more than his writing and school work turned into piles and piles of sketchbooks that were filled with intricate drawings and were stacked high within the confines of his room. 

He remembered being little, using washable markers to doodle fun patterns and designs on his arms and the arms of his friends, remembering how most recess breaks were filled with doing a doodle request for several fellow classmates. To being older, and having those same classmates come up to him to see if they could utilize his skills to make projects look nicer; to make epic banners for school events, or to make posters pop in his signature way. Even while he was in college, next to a prestigious art school that only accepted a handful of creatives a year, he had people beg him to create designs for tattoos they were wanting to get; willing to pay lots of money so they could forever have a drawing of his on their skin.

And that sparked something inside him. A passion to turn a hobby into a career.

It took years and years of effort, of schooling, of practicing, of littering his skin with designs both good and bad - and subsequently spending more time fixing his faults - and then shadowing those more experienced, to be taken into their shops and under their wings, so he may draw on the bodies of those that were hoping to decorate their skin. Not all patrons were ideal; some were not hygienic, and others moved too much and then complained of sloppy work, demanding a refund. And not all shop owners were pleasant to work for; many accepted clients even when they shouldn't, often dismissing those beneath them out of pride and a superiority complex, and always taking the side of those patrons trying to scam him and his time. But there were a few people that made it all worth it in the end, a few colleagues turned friends that made ‘sticking it out’ much more bearable.

And without all the bumps and hurdles, Sero would not have become as confident in his abilities and his worth, and he would not have had the chance to meet so many amazing people and artists - some of which had the same goal and ideas in mind as he did; who would follow him wherever he went. Before he even knew it, Hanta Sero finally achieved his goal, of making his childhood dream and hobby into a reality. He finally owned his tattoo parlor. 

He found a little shop within the city, perfect enough for him and a few friends to call their own, to create their own brand, and to make their own living; to finally call the shots and have complete creative control. The building itself was a little run down - something to be expected with the small price tag attached - but it was the ideal size for all of them and in the perfect location. So no one cared that it needed a few months of intense TLC to get the building up to code, it was more than worth the effort. And before anyone knew it the inspector came to claim the building was up to standards, giving the business license and the all-clear to start accepting patrons; it only took a few days before people heard the news.

When word got around that Sero and his business partners had finally opened their shop, to start accepting clients and creating art on their skin that they would enjoy for a lifetime, so many jumped on the chance to get an appointment with them - Sero especially. Some were people he had known for years, eagerly awaiting another drawing of ink, and some were those that saw his work on the many social pages advertising the business that wanted to add another to their growing collections. Whatever the case was, once he turned on the neon ‘open’ sign on the day of opening, he and his friends were booked for months in advance.

And the cherry on top of all of this? Another wonderful addition to the streams of success he was facing, was the bookstore that sat just across the street from him. 

Not because he was into books, though he did read from time to time and enjoyed it when he did, but because of the owner that bookshop had. At first, he couldn’t be sure you were the owner, but day in and day out he watched you show up at opening and leave at closing, and unless you were an incredibly dedicated employee, it was an easy assumption to make. And Sero couldn’t deny that he thought you were pretty when he first caught sight of you through his window after closing on his first day; and he couldn’t deny that he would wait with anticipation when you closed your shop and would begin making your way home, just so he could get a glimpse of your cute face.

He wished he had the free time to go and speak to you, to see you up close and hear your voice (which he could just tell was adorable and sweet), but his clientele made it nearly impossible for him to get the chance. By the time the last client would leave, your shop would already be closed, and for some time, with you nowhere in sight. There were just simply not enough hours in the day for him to spare to meet you; as well he was terrified of canceling an appointment or rejecting a client so early on in all of this, afraid that one bad comment could ruin the shop and cause it to sink.

But Sero always made the best of any situation, that was part of his charm. He figured that if he didn’t have the time to go in and speak to you, to properly act on his little crush, he would let you know who he was and his existence through different means. 

Romantic gestures that could be seen as small and friendly - those that wouldn’t scare you off or have you become afraid. He started by sending you flowers; a small bouquet to help liven your shop if you wanted; which you did if the vase by your check-out counter was any indication. Next were chocolates, all bundled in pretty wrapping paper for you to carefully tear away. Then balloons, attached to a small gift basket with quality skincare items that could be found at his shop with his business card nustled amongst the jars and tins to ensure that you knew who sent them and that it was from the new neighbor across the street - not some strange admirer. 

He could tell that you liked them, given the delight that bloomed on your face whenever you received them - the bright smile as you brought those flowers to your nose to inhale their earthy scent, or when you eagerly started to open up some of the chocolates to enjoy, or when you carefully inspected each tin of cream; placing a small dollop on the back of your hand before putting them aside and back to your work. Sero especially knew you liked them when, a week later, you sent a gift basket back to him filled with artisan treats from the local farmers market; with a card welcoming the new store to the neighborhood.

After a while of staring hopelessly at you, to the point where all his friends were relentlessly teasing him, Sero finally made the decision to meet you properly; to make his way over to your shop to say hello. 

“And it has nothing to do with Kaminari!” he exclaimed at Kirishima and Mina, ensuring they could hear him over the snickering, as he grabbed his jacket to sling over his shoulders.

“Sure, whatever you say, big guy~” Mina sang as waved goodbye with a wink, clearly not buying it - especially as Kaminari just got back from your shop, book in hand that you recommended.

Sero shook his head, out of frustration at Mina’s words knowing that she called his bluff, as he slammed the door shut behind him and briskly walked across the street; breathing a sigh of relief, one that made the tension in his shoulder slack, when he stepped foot into your shop. It was everything he thought a bookstore should be; it was cozy and warm, the kind that would make anyone instantly at ease and would spend hours just curled up to read; which he assumed the patron he walk passed had been doing all day.

“Welcome! Can I help you?” A voice sang through the air, causing his head to turn to face a young woman - sadly not you - wearing an apron with the store's logo on it.

“Uh, not sure.” Sero smiled, nodding his head in acknowledgment, and as a polite hello, before gazing around.

“First time here?” She inquired, moving behind a nearby counter to grab a stack of books.

“Yeah, pretty obvious huh?”

“A little, many have the look on their face when they first come in. It’s a little overwhelming at times, the place is a bit bigger than they assume.”

“You could say that again…” Sero could hear her airy giggle, watching in the corner of her eye as she began to sort through the titles.

“I can give you the run down if you like?”

“Please, if you don’t mind.”

“Not a problem at all, sir.” She smiled, pausing her task to free her hands for gesturing with her explanation  “This place is a lot like a library, people can come and go as they please, staying all day if they want to, without the pressure of needing to buy something. They can also borrow books for a small fee if they want, to ensure they don’t waste their money on a bad book, or they can obviously purchase them if they want.”

“A safe haven for those that love books, huh?” Sero chimed with a smile, taking another glance at all the sitting areas close to him - the plush pillows and fireplace inviting for those that would want to curl up.

“Pretty much, that was the idea” The employee agreed, already starting to sort again “Have a look and take all the time you need.”

Sero left her with a ‘thank you’ and another nod before venturing further into the store - taking stock of what sections of books there were and all the small cozy nooks for people to curl up in; taking his time to explore the entirety of the shop before leaving. “For research purposes, in case I wanna go back” he would mumble to himself, ready to defend his actions from his teasing friends upon his return. It was for those reasons, and those alone, not at all because he was trying to find you.

He finally did come across you, after what seemed like hours of searching, hidden away within the Historical Fiction sections tucked near the back walls, shelving some books that were stacked within your arms and reorganizing the ones that had been misplaced. To say Sero was smitten with you would have been an understatement before, but now? Seeing you so close? Smitten would not even begin to compare to how love-struck he was; one so strong it struck him dumb and left him unable to do anything but look at you.

“Sir?” 

Sero couldn’t tell if he was lucky or not to have your voice call out to him; luck that it broke him out of the stupor he was in, unlucky that he was unable to say or do anything more than gaze up at you with his mouth agape.

“Do… do you need help with anything?” Your sweet voice called out to him again, though clearly confused, and it made Sero look away to try and gain his thoughts once more.

“A-art book.” He cleared his throat, cheeks turning hot and red as his eyes did their best to look anywhere but you “Looking for one of those.”

“Well, which one?” You smiled, biting your lip to hide it as you gently placed the books you were holding down.

“Art, The Definitive Visual Guide” Sero blurted, voice sounding rushed as he named the first art book he bought when in college; watching as your brows furrowed as you took a moment to process what he said.

“By Dixon?” 

“Y-yes!” Sero exclaimed, eyes brightening and heart swelling with pride when you giggled over his excitement.

“Well, that would be in our art section, which would be…” You began to lean forward, carefully perching yourself on your ladder to see past the bookshelf currently in your way “Ah! Just over there!”

“O-over there?” Sero nodded, trying his best to not be affected by the smell of your shampoo as it lingered in the air as you moved to stand upright again “T-that’s perfect thank you!”

“Oh, no worries at all! You just let me know if you can’t find it okay?” You smiled, already picking your books back up.

Sero smiled back, giving a wave goodbye, before almost scurrying away; head hanging in defeat once he knew you were out of sight. A small part of him hoped he couldn’t find the book so he could talk to you again, but he knew that would be a mistake - especially as the spine of the book stared right back at him when he first began looking in the section you sent him to. Begrudgingly he accepted his fate, bringing the book up to the front cash and paying the borrowing fee to the employee he met earlier.

He came back to the parlor feeling like a complete idiot over messing up his first proper encounter with you, not doing at all what he planned to do - not being the effortlessly charming and fun guy he knew he was. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t keep stopping by. 

After all, he had to return the book he borrowed.

~

Sero waited a week, in his mind if he went back the next day it would cause him more harm than good; would lead to you asking him way more questions than he would want about the book itself - and well, he already made a fool of himself once. Besides, the week-long buffer would allow him the chance to clear his head and come up with a game plan, so he could be properly prepared himself to see you again.

Because this time he wanted to start an actual conversation with you, one where he could learn about who you were, why you opened this store and everything in between that led to this moment in time. He wanted to know if his crush on you was justified, or if he should just cut his losses now before he was in too deep. But to be fair, based on what all his friends have said, he already was; even so, he couldn’t hold onto that book forever.

Regardless of what the outcome may be, he had to see you again; even if it meant rescheduling a client for a Sunday to make up the lost time, he just had to get to you and your store before closing.

And it was the perfect time to go he found. The store was almost completely empty, with seemingly no one else in the building but you as you began your usual routine for closing - so dutifully organizing stacks of papers and placing books that needed to be returned into a neat little pile; he almost felt bad for clearing his throat and breaking you out of your stride.

“H-hi!” You exclaimed, your body jolting in surprise when you regarded him, clearly not used to anyone being here so late “I’m sorry I didn’t notice you sooner, I hope you weren’t waiting long!”

“No you’re fine, I just walked in,” Sero reassured, taking a step closer to your counter.

“Oh, are you here to return that art book? The one by Dixon?” You asked, back straightening as you smiled up at him. “I hope you liked it!”

“I did, it was a great read.” Sero mirrored your smile as he handed the book back over to you, enjoying the way your smaller hand brushed against his briefly “Though I was wondering if you could me find a similar book?”

“Sure, of course! Do you want a recommendation or are you looking for a specific title?”

“Uh, Creatives on Creativity is what I am looking for,” Sero said, breathing a mental sigh of relief over remembering the title - one he only heard of a day prior when searching for art books to ask you about.

“Creatives on Creativity…” You mumbled, turning to your computer to check if you had the title in stock - the sound of a keyboard clacking could be heard, filling the silent space briefly “By Steve Brouwers?”

“Yup! That’s the one” Sero confirmed with a nod, perfectly hiding the fact he was completely unsure as he watched you round the counter of the counter with a wave.

“Yeah, we should have a few in stock if you would follow me!”

You took him back to the Art Section, your stride confident as you weaved your way through bookcases and magazine towers, as you began locating the book in question; trying to remember where exactly you cataloged it - whether it was with the Art Help books or the Art Education ones.

Sero followed behind you, keeping his stride to a more casual pace to avoid possibly stepping on your heels, as he regarded your profile; enjoying the concentrated gazes, those mixed with slight perplexity, as you looked from shelf to shelf trying to help him out. Never before was he grateful, and possibly will never be again, about having trouble trying to find a book.

“Can I ask you something?” He finally spoke, watching as you began to stand on a small stool to look at a higher shelf, figuring his time was running out.

“Uh, sure?” You muttered, voice soft as you continued on your hunt. “Go ahead”

“I’m sure you get asked this all the time, but I’m curious as to what a bookshop owner's favourite book is?” 

“Oh! Wow, that’s a great question!” You said, finally sparing him a brief glance with a smile “And one that’s kinda tough to answer. I love books from all genres for different reasons, so to compare one that’s horror to one that’s fantasy is a little difficult to do.”

“Well, what are you enjoying right now?” Sero asked, body leaning against the bookshelf so he could continue gazing up at you.

“Uhh, wow what am I reading right now?” You chuckled nervously as your mind began to race, feeling your cheeks heat up as you heard him do so as well “Let's see… probably The Historian, it’s a thriller mystery kinda deal - involves vampires and stuff - it’s proving to be quite fun” 

“Vampires?”

“Yeah… it’s historical fiction. It blurs the lines of what happened with whatever our imaginations can think of with the folklore of Vlad Țepeș and Dracula. Partly why I like it I guess…”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Sero hummed, watching as you scanned the titles before you, almost as if you were counting each one for inventory later “Take it that’s why you opened this place? Fell in love with reading books from far and wide?”

“Something like that” You agreed with a shrug of your shoulders “Wanted to be a librarian, always thought they had a great gig going on, and one thing led to another and, well, here we are.”

As you spoke your deft fingers delicately pulled the book you both were looking for from its place in the self, where it was hiding. Once you secured it in your grip, you slowly descended from your stool handing the book out to him once your feet were securely on the ground.

“And here you are.” You smiled, watching as he stood upright and uncrossed his arms.

“Thanks, for finding this for me” He gingerly took the book from you and tucked it under his arm, smiling wider at your cheery response back; following you obediently back up to the cash to once again pay the borrowing fee.

“Hey, if you don’t mind…” Sero began, fingers tapping nervously against the wood of the countertop “I have one more question to ask ya.”

“Sure, go ahead!” You giggled, amused by his polite curiosity as you began the transaction of payment.

“Would you want to go for some coffee sometime?”

His question made your fingers fumble on the touchpad, causing an error screen to pop up and for you to almost frantically try to fix, and you nervously cleared your throat; face going hot in surprise and embarrassment over your stumbled, and failed, answer back.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you or make you uncomfortable” Sero tried to soothe, hands raising up and away from the bubble around you to prove he meant no harm “Just think you’re cute and would like to treat you to some coffee, that’s all.”

“W-well, that’s um, very sweet of you, I just um…” You floundered, doing your best to finish quickly so you could hide away from him - to shield him from witnessing your embarrassment further “Just don’t think that would be a good idea?”

“You don’t? Why not?”

“Y-you know, we’re strangers! We only met a few days ago and all….”

“Actually we’re neighbors, good ones at that if our gift exchange was anything to go by.” Sero clarified, watching as the realization of who he was crossed your face, his hands lowered to shove themselves in his jacket pockets before shrugging his shoulders “But hey, not gonna pressure you or anything. If you don’t want to that’s cool, I won’t pressure you!”

“I’m flattered, believe me, just….” You countered a sheepish look on your face as you passed the book back his way for him to take “Maybe some other time.”

“Sure thing, thank you again,” Sero said, giving you one last small smile before taking his book and leaving; wishing you a good night as he walked past the threshold of your store with a wave.

A few things were certain that night; the first being that you were worth having a crush on, and he would love the chance to treat you right. And second, you were not used to the straightforward approach, and if he didn’t want to screw anything up, he would have to be patient and go about things slowly.

But Sero Hanta was up for any challenge, and you were more than worth the wait.

~

After that night, Sero found himself stopping by your shop a few times a week; to return a new book he borrowed (and spent the night before diligently reading), and to further chat with you. The conversations were always led by a question or two before it sparked into something beautiful - he loved the way you would ramble, talking with your hands, as you explained something, how passionate you got over the things you loved, and how blessed he found himself when you tried to tell a story from when you were younger but couldn’t over your laughter of remembering it all.

And after each night, when the conversation had reached its end and the book he had paid for was tucked snugly under his arm, he would, without fail, ask you out on a date as he was leaving your shop; in love with the smile and the amused shake of your head when you bid him a simple goodnight, to - “try again some other time” - before shutting the door behind him and switching you sign to closed.

Slowly but surely you were coming out of your shell, becoming more than eager to spend the last hour in his company; you didn’t realize it right away, but soon you found yourself noticing how excited you got when you would greet him. Or how you would try and keep the conversation going just a little bit longer as you walked to the cash, not wanting the night to end so soon. And how you would linger close to him before closing the door and saying good night. He was fun company, some of the best you ever had, and you couldn’t deny that you were starting to catch feelings for him too; to slowly become as enamored as he was.

Sero noticed this little factor as well, after a couple of months of visiting, when it was you who ask him a question; as you gingerly took hold of his arm to get a better look at the intricate tattoo that was perfectly placed on his forearm after handing him his recently purchased item.

“Did you do this yourself?” You whispered, almost in awe, as your fingertips barely brushed over the details of the design.

“Yeah,” Sero breathed out, quite taken aback by your bold action - though nowhere near complaining. “Took a while, but I think it turned out great.”

“Did you design it too?”

“Mm-hmm, designed all the tattoos on my body.” His eyes shifted their gaze from his arm to your face, “Wanted to work on my skin first before anyone else’s, just in case I wasn’t good at it.”

“I think it’s safe to say that you are, it’s beautiful work.”

“Do you have one?” 

“N-no…” You broke your gaze away, taking a step back from him - completely aware of how close and possibly inappropriate you were behaving.

“You want one?” Sero inquired with a clear of his throat; wanting nothing more than to move closer to you again, to gain that moment of intimacy once more, but knew he couldn’t

“Well yeah,” You shrugged, looking anywhere but at him, “But I just never really know what to get, and I don’t wanna regret getting something cause it’ll be on my skin forever, you know?”

“I can design something for you if you want?” 

“You would?”

“Obviously, wouldn’t offer if I didn’t want to!” He smiled, grabbing a piece of scrap paper and a marker from your countertop “Just tell me some things that you like, and I’ll come up with something! See, I already know you like owls, and foxes, and of course historical fiction and fantasy books…”

“Sero, listen this is really sweet! I am honored you would do this for me and all but….” You began, cutting him off from his parade of knowledge of all things you loved - heart swelling almost uncomfortably with the attention - “But really, you don't have to do this for me.”

“You kidding, I would love to! If I didn’t I wouldn’t have done this for a living; hard to make a career out of something you hate!”

“Yeah, clearly, I obviously get it. But even so, you’re booked for months! You got plenty of other clients that need your attention and designs a lot more than I do.”

“Oh ho~ How do you know I’m booked for months?” Sero teased, enjoying how you looked away in fake annoyance as your shoulders raised in embarrassment “Even if I was, which you’re so cutely right that I am, I would reserve a spot for you regardless.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, it can be after hours too, if you wanted.” Sero offered, with a shrug “Ya know if that would help put your nerves at ease; less people and all that stuff. And it could help make you feel better about accepting my offer~ I wouldn’t have to cancel on a client if you did.”

You sighed, shoulder slumping as you weighed his very tempting offer. You had been wanting a tattoo, ever since the new parlor opened across the street; and especially so every time you looked in Sero’s direction - the ink that was littered across his skin was beautiful - now here was the most perfect opportunity to finally get one and to get some more alone time with the artist himself; you knew you would regret it every day if you said no; despite your nerves telling you otherwise.

Squaring your shoulders you finally looked back at him, giving him a nod of approval over his proposition.

“Yes!” His fists thumped the counter as he proclaimed his excitement over your acceptance “I promise you won’t regret it! I’ll start working on the designs tonight and will have them done A-S-A-P!”

“Okay, okay!” You laughed, playfully rolling your eyes at his childish behavior “Sounds good to me.”

“Oh! One more thing!” He passed the marker over to you, his palm slayed out as if acting as a canvas “I’ll need your number so I can both let you know when the design is done and so I can book you in for your appointment.”

“Okay, well then hand me the paper you were just scribbling on” You pointed and the scrap paper, brows furrowing when you watched him shake his head ‘no”. 

“No can do babe, it’s covered with stuff already. Just write it on my hand”

“Sero, this is a permanent marker, I’m not going to do that!”

“I think I’m more than comfortable with permanent ink on my skin,” Sero winked, moving his palm closer to you “It’ll come off in a few days, but hey, if you don’t want me to leave you could just say so~”

You couldn’t help rolling your eyes again, hating that he was right and you were wasting time yet again to have him stay longer. You acquiesced, taking hold of his hand to keep it steady as you carefully wrote your number, being sure it was as clear as possible to avoid any confusion or mishaps that could be caused if you didn’t.

You watched as Sero left, head held high and chest filled with puffed-up pride as he sauntered back to the parlor; clearly happy with himself at winning you over and gaining your number.

~

It only took four days before you got the message from Sero; stating, with plenty of exclamation marks, about how your design was done and to stop by at any time to come and review the sketches - he was more than happy to squeeze you in at a time that worked best for you; whether that be between a client or after-hours.

And well, the thought of coming after hours was tempting, your confidence in quelling those nerves that swam in your stomach wasn’t strong enough yet; you were already pushing your limits when it came to the tattoo appointment. But the thought of you extending your lunch break by a few minutes seemed like a good idea.

The sign said ‘Closed for Lunch’ when you finally made your way across the street, and though Sero was insistent that you could come in regardless, you were still a little hesitant; standing by the door debating whether to knock or just walk in.

The decision was made for you when a woman with beautiful soft pink hair opened the door, startling you out of your thoughts as she asked if she could help you with anything.

“I-i’m just here to review some sketches…” You mumbled, hands playing nervously with your phone that still had the messages from Sero open “But I can come back if you’re closed!”

“It’s with Sero right?” She inquired, golden eyes squinting at you as they scanned you from head to toe; 

“Yeah..” You nodded your head, trying your best not to shift your body in reaction to her gaze.

“Oh my gosh! So it’s you! The librarian across the street!” She squealed, wasting no time in taking your arm and pulling you into the shop  “I’ve heard so much about you! Just been dying to meet you! I’m Mina, one of the artists here.”

“Bookstore owner….” You mumbled, casting a shy smile her way as you gave her your name “Heard about you as well, it’s really nice to meet you too”

“Right, bookstore owner, sorry about that!” Mina waved in apology, taking a step back to appraise you once more “and I gotta say, super jealous of Sero that he snagged you as his client; you’re a total babe! Like, that outfit is to die for! Where’s you get it?”

You could feel the blood rush to your face at her statement, her brazen compliment both flattered and embarrassed you as you mumbled out a ‘thank you’ as you gazed down at what you were wearing.

“And oh my god, your nails!” She exclaimed again, taking hold of your hand to inspect closely inspect your delicately painted fingernails “These are so pretty! Where’d you get them done?”

“Uh, the spa a few blocks down the road” You answered with a breathless laugh at her enthusiasm “They always do a good job.”

“I can tell! I’ve always wanted to check them out, but was a little unsure, but now I’m definitely gonna go as soon as I can!” She squealed, squeezing your hand in delight “Oh, but you’re not here for me, which is a total bummer. Sero’s station is just back here, I’ll let him know you’re here!”

You gave her your thanks, appreciating her help and unknowingly helping you become more at ease, as she led you to Sero’s area; leaving you with a wave and a promise he’ll join you in a few minutes. 

His area was quite spacious, possibly the largest out of the others you passed, and the furthest from the front door. His chair and equipment sat near the center of it all, just slightly off to the left for others to pass by, and looked clean and organized as you peered around the room. He had a work table as well, pressed up against the wall, with a book of design and sketches.

If you were braver you would have opened it and gone through the slightly worn pages to see what they contained. But instead, you opted to scan the wall before you, taking in the fun, wild, and beautiful designs that were taped to them; staring in awe at just how beautiful they all were. Masterpieces in black and coloured ink, ones you were sure some lucky people got to wear proudly on their skin.

Or perhaps they were littered on his…

Sadly, you couldn’t allow your mind the chance to wander to such thoughts, to wonder just how much of his body was covered in ink and how low some tattoos would travel, before you hear his footsteps approaching.

“Hey! Admiring the wall?” He greeted, his smile as bright and friendly as always when he greeted you

“Yeah, the designs are beautiful” You glanced back at him with a smile “But I think you already knew that.”

“What can I say, just like hearing people sing my praises!” He joked with an exaggerated shrug of his shoulders before walking up to you “But we’re not here to talk about these, eh?”

You watched as he gently, smoothly, pulled open a large drawer at the table you were currently standing at, one you didn’t realize was there given the sleek design. Carefully he pulled out a tiny stack of papers, laying them out before you to inspect and admire, as his arm kept him leaning over the table, and more importantly, you.

You tried your best not to be affected by his voice, how his breath tickled your ear, as he spoke about the direction he went with the designs. Some larger, more detailed as they encompassed all the things you loved - like the barn owl sounded by flora and books before a full moon - and some that were smaller, simply beholden of a single item you loved, like a sitting fox amongst fall leaves; and where on your body each tattoo would be placed.

He left a pause when he was done speaking, allowing you the chance to mill over what he said; to further inspect his designs, and to take your time in picking out what you wanted most; unable to help himself from staring at you, eyes half-lidded, as you bit your lip in concentration.

“I like the fox,” you finally whispered, pulling the sketch closer to you to admire it further, already imagining where it will sit on your arm.

“Yeah?” was all Sero could breathe out as he leaned in closer to you

“Mm-hmm” You nodded, finally turning your head to face him; watching as his eyes gazed at your lips, causing you to do the same “...h-how much will it be?”

You could feel your breath catching in your throat as Sero ignored your question, instead taking the opportunity to lean his face closer to yours; feeling his breath gently fan against your lips as you shut your eyes in anticipation; wanting nothing more than to feel what his kiss would be like.

“Sero, delivery is here!”

A gruff voice is what made you turn your head away; face scrunching in frustration over the unwanted interruption. You heard him sigh; feeling cold and a little disappointed when you felt his warmth pull away from you.

“Yeah… I’ll be right there Bakugou…” Sero spoke firmly, trying his best to keep his voice from sounding frustrated and annoyed as he looked back at his friend “Just finishing up here.”

Sero took another deep breath, one that turned into a loud sigh, over the now-ruined moment as he pulled the fox design from the pile of paper; taking a step away from you with a shake of his head.

“Don’t worry about paying, it’s on the house.” He gave a pained smile, slowly backing his way towards the backrooms, to where Bakugou was waiting “Just pick a day with Mina and we’ll go from there, ‘kay?”

You simply nodded your head, giving him a small smile and wave as you watched him disappear; taking the time to finally release the air you were holding as you clenched your fist in anger over your ruined kiss; at how perfect Bakugou’s timing was in all of it.

But after a moment, you couldn’t help but laugh; shaking your head in amusement as slowly made your way back to the front desk to book your appointment; knowing you had to get back to work soon and relieve your assistant.

~

It wasn’t long before the day of your tattoo arrived; the Saturday you booked it for came faster than anticipated, though the entire day felt like a year as you kept glancing at the clock to see how much time has passed, only to groan to yourself when it showed a mere 10-minutes.

Cataloging books did help with your dilemma, taking your mind off the many hours between you and seeing Sero again, as you continuously went up and down your little ladder to put the many returned books away. And before long, it was 9:00 pm, and you could flip your sign to ‘Closed’ and make your way across the street. 

You were surprised, given that the parlor was supposedly closed - or at the very least seeing their last clients at that point of the night - to see all the artists by the front desk chatting away; almost as if they were waiting for you to arrive.

“There you are!” Mina exclaimed, making her way from behind the desk over to where you stood, taking your jacket, and hanging it up for you “Thought you got cold feet on us!”

“Oh, I wouldn’t do that” You smiled, allowing her to complete her courteous gesture “And if I did cancel I would make sure you knew.”

“Are you excited!? First tattoos are always the most fun!”

“I am! Been looking forward to this all week!” 

“Oh, I’m sure you have~” Mina winked, “Now, let me introduce you to the other artist! Well, we’re all friends here but ya know.” She guided you over to where the three men stood, pointing first to a blonde with an unamused expression “You already met Bakugou last time you were here, I think you met Kaminari when he was at your store a few weeks back. And that giant redhead is Kirishima - he looks more scary than he is!”

 “It’s really nice to meet you!” Kirishima smiled, nudging Bakugou to acknowledge your presence - which he did in the form of a nod - before extending his hand out to you to shake “Heard a lot about you, been meaning to stop by your store for a while now. Apparently, you give good recommendations!”

“Oh, I do?” You asked, gingerly shaking his hand with a confused expression

“Of course you do, babe! Why else would Sero keep bugging you~” Kaminari jumped in, winking as he took your hand in his own and squeezed it “Nice to see you in our neck of the woods finally.”

“Okay okay! That’s enough, you guys!” Sero finally emerged, walking his way in between the group to disperse them; pulling Kaminari away from you to force him to let go of your hand “You should all be getting ready to leave, as you said you would!”

“Oh come on man! We just wanted to say hi to her!” Kaminari whined as he, and the rest of the group, were huddled towards to back of the place while you stood in place, fighting off a wave of giggles that were threatening to overcome you over the whole scene.

After a moment Sero returned, smoothing out his shirt as he tries his best to act as nonchalantly as possible; an act you could see right through given the blush that was dusting his cheeks but decided not to comment on.

“Sorry about all that, you ready to get started?” He asked, hand running through his hair nervously.

You hum in agreement, head nodding as you let him guide you back to his station; once there he motioned for you to get comfortable on the plush leather chair as he got his equipment ready.

 “Your friends are really nice,” You commented, tugging up the sleeve of your shirt for ease of access.

“Yeah, they are” Sero admitted, chuckling to himself “Pains in the ass half the time, but they mean well”

“Well, that’s how you know they love you” You chimed, sitting more upright as you watched him press an alcohol swab against your skin for a moment

“Guess you’re right.” He shrugged, holding up the stencil of your tattoo next to your arm “You want the tattoo here or a little lower?”

“No, there looks good! After all, you are the expert” You smiled, allowing him to press the paper against your skin; feeling him pressing down on it, before removing it to showcase the temporary art that was to forever be marked on your skin.

“Yeah that looks good,” He murmured, taking his tattoo machine in hand and dipping it in ink “Now, you let me know if this hurts, or becomes too unbearable okay?”

“Okay..” You bit your lip and nodded your head as you stared at the machine.

“Don’t worry, on arms you normally can’t feel anything” Sero reassured “ and I’ve got a steady hand which helps. All this just looks more scary than it is.”

“Like Kirishima”

“Yeah!” He laughed, shaking his head at your silly, but accurate, comment “Just like Kiri. Now, take a deep breath for me, kay?”

You nodded and did as you were told, taking a deep breath as his machine whirled to life; you watched with bated breath as it approached your skin, letting out a large sigh of relief when it finally touched you and no pain could be felt.

“See? Not so bad, yeah?” Sero smiled, slowly beginning to outline his design.

“Yeah…”

You didn’t converse much after that, not because you didn’t want to, but rather because you were blown away by Sero’s skills and concentration. You had never seen this side of him before. Normally he was goofy, animated, and fun, which you thought was endearing and cute; gave him his boyish charm. But now? As you watched his brows furrow and eyes look at you with such steely focus, you couldn’t help but find him extremely attractive. Choosing not to break the silence in fear of breaking his concentration, and thus this newfound allure, or embarrassing yourself.

Though he did make it difficult.

Throughout the entire session, every time he needed to shade something or thicken a line, he would always praise you after; claiming you were doing ‘such a good job’ for pushing through it; or for being called a ‘good girl’ when you took a needed deep breath at the right moment in time.

He said it so often that you can’t tell if he’s being reassuring or doing it to get a rise out of you; to tease you to see you get all hot and bothered.

Whatever the case was, it was affecting you way more than it should have; lighting a small fire deep within your core as you tried to rub your thighs together without him noticing to relieve some of the newfound pressure, as you suppressed all the small squeaks your wanted body wanted to let out every time another praise left his mouth.

It was agonizing torture in the best possible way; and when the session was finally done, when he was gently placing cellophane wrap over your fresh tattoo, you weren’t sure whether you were relieved or disappointed that it was all over.

“How much…” You gently cleared your throat, voice a little raspy over underuse “How much do I owe you again?”

“I already told you, babe,” Sero chuckled, carefully putting away his equipment “It’s on the house, my treat for you allowing me to borrow all those books.”

“You paid for those, Sero” You shot back, legs moving over the side of the chair as you leaned closer to him; showcasing your cleavage further from the lowcut hem of your shirt “I can’t just let you give me something like this for free - it’s not fair.”

“I told you, I like doing this.” He shrugged, ignoring you and your subsequent subtle attempts of seduction “More than happy to do this for you, think of it as a first-timer bonus!”

“There must be some way I can pay you back”

It was your tone that made Sero’s back straighten, clearing his throat he carefully placed what was in his hand down to turn and face you - breathing ceasing when he saw you sitting so pretty for him; the dark look in your eye making this cock twitch to life in his pants.

Sero couldn’t help it when his tongue poked out to lick his lips, unable to stop his eyes from trailing over your figure sitting before him; his own legs spreading further apart as he shifted a little closer to you; making you bite your lip. 

“How about finally going on that date with me?” He offered, hands twitching in his lap as he tried his best to restrain himself from touching you without permission.

“Payments happen immediately after a service…it wouldn’t be right paying you back days later, especially after you did such an amazing job” You reasoned, your voice barely above a whisper as you tilted your head up; brushing your nose against his “I prefer to pay you back now, kay?”

“Kay…” Sero barely even had the chance to whisper the word out before your lips pressed firmly into his; hands fisting into his shirt to keep him from pulling away.

As if Sero even wanted to move away, his own hands reaching out to pull you closer to him; closing any inch of space between him and your soft body. His hand cupped your face to deepen the long-awaited kiss that he dreamed about for weeks, as he slotted between your legs, groping and pinching the meat of your thigh as he hiked your leg up to wrap around his waist as he placed more of his weight onto you; groaning into your open when your clothed cunt brushed against his hardening length.

Your sweet, breathless, mewls were addicting and it made his mind dizzy with lust as his lips descended down your jaw and onto your neck; licking and sucking on the sensitive skin you so graciously barred to him, biting down on your pulse to hear you cry out his name into the heated air as he continued to grind his hips against yours.

His kisses continued downwards to your chest, pulling your shirt down - not bothering or wanting to take a mere moment to part from you to properly rid yourself of the article of clothing - before his lips began to suckle at the plump flesh his found; moaning into the heated flesh as he relished the way your hand began to tangle and tug at his hair.

It was all so much, and yet not enough for you; the fire that slowly emerged in your core was raging for me, not being fully satisfied with his sweet kisses or the grind of his hips. You needed more, been craving for more for hours, and you were starting to get a little impatient as you guided the hand pinching and stroking your thigh up to your core.

“Sero, please, touch me more,” You sighed out, legs widening to give him better access as held his hand against the damp cotton of your panties

“Hanta,” He corrected you, wringing his hand from your grasp to slowly stroke his knuckle up and down your slit “call me that, and I’ll do what you want, you needly little thing.”

“Hanta, please? Want you…” You whined, arching your back in an attempt to get more friction; unable to keep the smile off your face when you heard him groaning; clearly loving the way his name sounded off your needy tongue.

“That’s a good girl, hips up” He gently coaxed your lower half off the chair to pull your panties down your leg; pocketing them for later, before slowly guiding your legs to spead even wider for him “Already so wet after a few kisses, hm?” 

You looked away, face buried into his neck, the heat burning your cheeks in embarrassment over his teasing, as you nodded your head - unable to muster the courage to say the truth - as your heart fluttered over his rumbling chuckle.

“Aw, are we shy now?” He teased even more, deft fingers spreading your lower lips apart to gently stroke at your hardened clit “You weren’t shy a second ago when you asked me to play with this pretty pussy, want me to stop?”

He felt you shake your head, a sweet little whine accompanying the motion, as you continued to cling to him; your warm breath, coming out in pants, next to his ear made him slow his pace to one that could barely be considered movement.

“I dunno, it sure seems like you do” 

“N-no!” You mumbled, gripping his shirt tighter; biting your lip to suppress another whine threatening to escape. “Please don’t stop..”

“Then let me see that pretty face, hm,” He asked, tone still mirthful as he watched you slowly come out of your hiding spot “There you are, look at you, huh? All cute and flustered, you like what I’m doing that much?”

You nodded your head, once more, voice squeaking out a ‘yes’ as you felt his fingers resume a faster pace - swirling your bundle of nerves before slipping into your wet heat; your own hand coming down to grasp his forearm over the sudden intensity.

“That feels good, baby? You like my fingers?” Sero hummed, lips grazing your ear as he leaned closer to you, gazing down to watch his fingers go in and out of your drenched hole.

“God yes, Hanta!” You couldn’t help but cry out, throwing your head back, as you felt his fingers curl; stroking that sweet spot within your gummy walls that you made you see stars.

“Yeah you do,” He groaned, feeling your slick drip down his wrist as he repeated the motion “you wanted this, didn’t you? That’s why you wore that cute little skirt, huh?”

Sero watched you nod your head, though the blissed-out look on your face made him question if you even heard what he said as your hips began to wiggle, legs shaking as you neared your release.

“Can feel you twitching around my fingers, pretty girl, you gonna cum for me?” He asked, as his free hand pushed down your squirming hips “Hey, hey, don’t whine! I’ll give you what you want, promise”

His swollen lips brushed against your collarbone, a subtle gesture to prove he meant what he said - that he wasn’t going to tease you or stop you from going over the edge; his thumb twisting up to rub at your clit to help ease you over the edge you were climbing.

“That’s it, cum for me, god you sound so pretty, keep twitching for me.” He groaned, fingers working frantically as your cries grew higher in pitch.

Everything went white for a moment, an end to the mounting pleasure he was giving you, the world was forgotten for a brief moment as you succumbed to the pleasure; your back arched almost painfully as your legs clamped around his wrist; your entire form shaking from the intensity as eyes rolled back into your skull. The only thing that kept you in the realm was his deep voice cooing down at you as you felt your juices run down your thighs and stick to the surface of his leather chair.

“There she is…” He mumbled, lips kissing all over your face and chest to slowly help ease you back down “Slowly, that’s it, you did so good for me…”

“Hanta, s’too much!” You whined, bucking your hips away from his still-moving fingers; ones that were still slowly stroking your soaking cunt; hissing when he finally took them out.

“Sorry, sorry,” He chuckled, hands returning to stroke your thighs and hips as he gazed down at you “You certainly know how to stroke a man’s ego, huh? Never had a girl do that from my touch.”

You groaned one that turned into a giggle, as your hands came up to your face to hide from another wave of heated embarrassment “Well, to be fair, never had a guy touch me like that. Can’t blame a girl for enjoying it!”

“No I can’t, glad you liked it so much, baby” He murmured, pulling your hands from your face to kiss you once more, murmuring sweet nothing to you between each small kiss as his hands wandered again, up and down your body, smiling into the kiss when he felt your hands do the same.

“A-ah!” Sero moaned, unable to stop his hips from bucking to your small hand that started to stroke at the large bulge in his pants; another one choking out, ending in a whimper, when you applied more pressure.

“Can I return the favour?” You asked, voice sounding so saccharine and confident that it made his head spin at the total 180 you just pulled with your demeanor.

“N-no,” He whimpered out, hand grasping at your wrist - just as yours did before - to stop you from continuing your sinful motions.

“Why not?” You whined, the pout you gave almost made him regret his choice, “Wanna make you feel good…”

“I know you do, but I won’t be able to last long if you keep that up” He reasoned, clasping your hands in his to bring them away from his twitching, aching cock.

“What’s wrong with that?”

“God, you’re too much…” He mumbled, head shaking in amusement as he cleared his throat, trying his best not to let you get the best of him as he watched you squirm.

Your pout was still prevalent on your swollen lips as you gazed up at him, calling out to him once more in that saccharine sweet voice “But I wanna make you cum.”

Sero couldn’t help but groan again, head turning away from you as he thought of anything else at that moment - things that made him cringe in his past - to try and stop himself from creaming in his pants like a teenager. With his voice strained, hoarse with effort, as he instructed you to lay back.

You do as you are told, heat in your belly igniting once more when you hear the clinking of his belt unbuckling; bending your legs up, to get betting frictions on your tingling nub, as you waited as patiently as you could for his return.

The chair groaned, squeaking slightly, at the added weight Sero provided, as he situated himself between your legs once more. You gasped, one that turned into a moan, when you felt his cock head tap at your entrance; his hard length sliding up and down your slit - teasing you as he coats himself in your juices.

“Hanta…!” You groan out, hips bucking to try and slip him inside; groaning once more in frustration when you feel his hands pin your hips down once more “Hurry up!”

“So impatient, naughty, naughty, naughty ” He clicks his tongue at you, chuckling at the frustrated glance you cast his way “Just give me a second, don’t wanna hurt you after all”

You huff, brows furrowing further as acquiesced; knowing thing it was for the better to have him take things slow - but the burning in your core was making it difficult for you to have a clear and level head; wanting nothing more to feel him fill you up.

After another agonizing minute, you slowly feel him sink into your heat; feeling his fat cock stretch you out so agonizingly slow that it makes you throw your head back and moan; mouth agape as you feel every inch bury itself deeper into your core.

“God, you’re tight!” Sero hisses, body taut as he holds himself above you as he continued pushing into you “Already milking me, baby, damn!”

You both groan when he finally bottoms out, breathing labored as they mingle together in-between tiny kisses as you both try to adjust; legs wrapping around his hips, pulling him down to you, as he begins his slowly thrusting into you.

His thrusts were almost teasing with how slowly he was moving, dragging his cock out languidly from your gummy walls before slowly returning back into your warmth - but they were precise, with each thrust hitting every sweet spot you had; making your eyes cross as you fell into the throws of pleasure over his slow lovemaking.

Over time though, Sero could not keep up the unhurried pace; what was once a tactic to ensure that he didn’t cum too early, to properly worship you and your perfect body, was now not enough - his body needed more. His lips attached to yours, kisses muffling the sweet moans that you were making as he slowly picks up his pace; thrusts turning sloppy and hurried, a fair cry from before, as Sero now becomes unable to hold off his own pleasure; frantically trying to chase his release.

The sloppy, wet, noises of your pussy could be heard over your constant moans, over the  sound of his skin slapping against yours, and it was becoming overwhelming - his thumb joining his frenzied hips as he rubbed at your clit; trying desperately to get you up and over that edge before him, to feel your walls flutter and clasp his weeping cock as it did his fingers before he spilled into you.

But he failed, your wanton moans as they called out his name, and the sharp sting of your nails and they dug into his back pushed him too far; quickly pulling out with a choked wail he came; spilling his hot seed all over your thighs and stomach.

“I-I’m sorry” he gasped, trying to regain his breath - body, and cock, still twitching over the intensity of his organism; leaving you for a brief moment to get a clean rag from his equipment table to clean you up.

“Why are you sorry?” You asked, voice still raspy and sore, as you watched him methodically clean you up.

“Well, you know, about getting you all messy. And…. yeah…” He mumbled, shrugging his shoulders, too embarrassed to look at you or saw the real reason he apologized.

It made you smile, though you did your best to contain the giggles that threaten to pass your lips as you watched him. Sitting up, you pushed the hand that was cleaning you away, pulling him back down into you for a kiss.

“It’s okay, I don’t mind getting messy. Part of the fun, right?” You giggled, nudging your nose with his trying to lighten the mood; effectively making a small smile tug at his lips as he returned your kiss.

“Besides…” you whispered, hands coming down to teasingly stroke his chest “My place isn’t too far from here. If you wanted, you could spend all night making it up to me”

“Aren’t you a naughty girl,” Sero smirked, hands grabbing the meat under your thighs as he picked you up from his chair; moving your legs to wrap around his hips to keep you upright and in place “But, I think my place is closer.”

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Am I the Asshole for ruining a person's life?

©️©️©️©️©️©️ to find later.

This is an old story from when I was in high school. I was a quiet nerdy kid, but I was well liked. No one messed with me and I was on good terms with most of the popular kids. I just tended to like to read and learn. I did academic decathlon, I spent my breaks in the library, I was in the top of the class etc.

My junior year of high school, there were these two sisters that moved into the school. They weren’t twins, but they were in the same grade. The Older (We'll call her Lina) was held back one year. We'll call the younger one Wendy. Lina and Wendy were both painfully awkward little nerds, so we tended to be in the same circles. We were in the same classes and they also joined the Academic Decathlon. I spent a lotttttt of time around them.

Lina was a cunt.

Seriously an absolute cunt. She went out of her way to absolutely DESTROY any confidence Wendy had. Wendy was SO SMART. Way smarter than me. And Wendy didn't have a mean bone in her body. A very kind person. But Lina felt the need to point out EVERY small mistake or blamed everything that went wrong on Wendy. I once saw Lina SLAP Wendy and then demand Wendy apologize for it. Lina called her names, belittled her, etc. And it pissed me off.

It pissed me off even more when I met their Mom and it was SO OBVIOUS that their Mom favored Lina. She even said that "Lina is definitely the prettier one. She could be a model" when Wendy was RIGHT THERE. It pissed me off SO MUCH.

So, I might have reacted in a way that could be an asshole move.

Like I said, I was a quiet nerdy kid. But I was also pretty well liked and I used that to my advantage.

I became a little whisper in people's ears. I spent an ENORMOUS amount of time and effort turning everyone against Lina. I spread rumors that were just baaarely exaggerating the truth. I encouraged people to shit talk Lina and talk kindly about Wendy. I basically changed Wendy's reputation into a glowing saint in the eyes of the school (not difficult, Wendy was great) and I turned Lina's reputation into garbage. Like, actual garbage.

It got to the point where Lina had no friends. No one DARED to risk being seen with her. Everyone loved to shit talk her. She couldn't keep a secret for anything. If she tried to confide in someone, the news would come out immediately. No one was on her side. I even had her boyfriend spilling embarrassing intimate secrets. He kept dating her just so he could make fun of her.

Well, she did have one friend. Lina had me. I was such a kind and faithful friend, who would NEVER gossip about her or be mean. She could tell me anything.

She even drew this REALLY pretty portrait of me. Just a pencil drawing on sketchbook paper. Whatever else Lina was, she was a good artist. It looked just like me.

I still have it, btw, it really good piece of art.

(I didn't have to worry about it staining my reputation, I was already known as being too kind for my own good. It's really not that hard to get a nice girl reputation.)

Anyways, I have been told that this was an asshole move when I tell this story. I don't think it was and I don't regret it, but other people seem to think it was excessive. When I think back to how much more CONFIDENT Wendy was by the time we graduated, and how she went on to an Ivy League college, I'm glad I ruined her sister's social life. Lina was so stressed out that she couldn't even TRY to harrass Wendy. And if she HAD tried, Lina would have had the student body at her throat. I didn't just ruin Lina, I also helped Wendy gain her footing in a new school.

Anyways, WAS I the asshole for ruining her? Or were my actions just?

[ttshihiro]

pspspps.. totally not golden groovy woops

ANYWAYS HII!! heard u were open for requests. may i request tammy + qiu with and an artist reader :00

requests of my favorite fandoms are my catnip good gof woa who could this be‽‽ my reqs and my ask box are like always open btw >◡<

extra note/s: I refer to step 1 Qiu as he/him. Uhhh take this as platonic or romantic, I'll add an indicator for romance (𐙚) ^^

more under the cut > o

✧ At 10 years old, QIU's fascinated. How he discovers your interest and skill in arts varies but his reaction doesn't. He's impressed! Whether digital or traditional, Qiu would love to participate especially if you asked him yourself.

For this reason, he carries an extra pen and even those colored ones just in case you get bored or if you're suddenly struck by creativity when you two are playing :3

✧ The first time you show him one of your doodles you made during class, he's compelled to do the same whether or not you actually give him it. And ever since, you two've been exchanging these sketches during class. It's the cutest scene to walk into.

✧ URGH AND THE THINGS HE DOES WHEN YOU TELL HIM ABOUT ART BLOCK DEPENDING ON HOW AND WHAT YOU DRAW

You're into drawing sceneries? Trust that he starts telling you and Tamarack about more "special things" in the forest and/or the town.

Like the sky? There's this clearing a lot further into the forest at your backyards. Stargaze, watch the clouds and the sunset together?

✧ It's also necessary for me to mention that unlike his notes, lazily pressed against eachother and constantly on the run, anything you give him goes to a safe space probably in between a books pages, under the the matress of his bed or inside a drawer/container.

"They broke into my backyard accidentally, 'cause they were on a crazy investigation about a paper airplane. Plus, they got here a day ago and they're already looking out for me. Normally, I'm the one doing that."

"Besides, they're pretty. And they make me pretty. Look! Look how they drew me!"

✧ As for 10-year-old TAMARACK, she's curious. The things you draw, are they based on actual places? Actual people? Oh, you draw based on your imagination? Elaborate.

✧ At some point in the prologue, she says "All the forests in the world are different, and some places don't even have forests. I can show you good spots to find things since you're newer to this forest than me."

And I can't not think of her running up to you to give you all of what she gathered for you to draw like omfg

With all those leaves and tiny branches sticking out of her hair and sweater, she smiles brightly with her hands filled with her treasures. AUGH SHE MAKES ME SO SICK I LOVE HER

✧ Like Qiu, she has her own safe spot designated for only your drawings if you've given her any.

She shows off all of them. Especially if you've drawn her?? It'll be the only thing she talks about during literally any time for the rest of the month and the few months after.

"Out of all the friends I have here, you're the best one. We came to the same exact neighborhood, almost at the same time, and are he same age. You have fun outside and I do too."

"I think you're pretty. How you draw me is pretty! I've never met a kid who was just like me. That's important. That's serious."

✧ Now, 14-year-old QIU's pretty much no different. They're even more impressed when they see just how much you've improved. Nonetheless, they treasure your old drawings just as much as they do they new.

They take the liberty of providing you with both a pen and paper to draw on when you're together, in case you don't bring your sketchbook (if you own one).

On those days where you two just sit in silence in their hideout, their gaze drifts to your side quietly a few times to watch your progress. After a while, they settle with sitting right next to you and watching the stroke of your pen against the paper as the scene forms with each hatch.

✧ As a teen, they've actually been a tad bit farther off the town when they feel like taking a ride on their bike. They've seen many sights and burn the route into their brain for them to tell you about. They'd even be happy as to bring you there themselves.

✧ If you ask them to be your muse, good god you'd need to tell them what to do.

It's almost a funny sight. Qiu, the kid who knew what to do their whole life asks you, "Should I pose? Where do I look? Ah- what's my good side?"

𐙚 They can feel their breath hitch under your scrutiny. Suddenly, they're concious of every single thing about them. Where do their eyes go? Should they move their hands? Is their hair in the way?

They avert their gaze flusteredly, their head ever so slightly moving to the side when they do so.

And good god do their hands clutch the fabric of their pants when you tell them to look at you properly.

✧ Same goes for TAMARACK at 14. She's as intrugued as ever to hear about your work. She admires (you)r style from then till now and has learned to appreciate the time gone into things as simple as this, whether or not you've made it with her in mind. BUT GOD IF YOU TELL HER IT IS, it's always sitting on her desk and she thinks constantly about what you've done for her.

✧ And while she doesn't exactly bring you a pen, she's more than glad to hand you hers when you need it.

✧ Unlike before, she'd now be at your side when you two hung out at her backyard. She'd be sitting across from you, practicing the cello. The hum of her instrument accompanied by the sound of nature and the scratch of your pen against paper gives her a sense of calmness.

This may also be when she realizes she's been your muse! Her fingers trace over where your pen has been and boy appreciate isn't even enough for her to describe how she felt. It was definitely happy, but that wasn't the word either.

𐙚 Her heart pounds alarmingly as she admires your work. It's almost concerning to you that she sits silently with a blank expression as she held your sketchbook in her hands.

But that concern washes off you as soon as a warm smile curls the corners of her lips, tender adoration displayed all over her face.

[illubean]

Valorant Protocol as Highschool Stereotypes

Characters: Chamber, Gekko, Iso, Jett, Killjoy, Neon, Phoenix, Raze, Sage, Skye, Viper, Yoru Type: Headcanons

HAHA help me valorant brainrot >.< also this is based off of my hs experience soooo yeah

Warnings: none

Chamber

your typical pretty boy

all the girls love him all the boys hate him

well...most of the girls love him

they follow him around to classes or offer him gifts or ask to sit with him at lunch etc.

and he eats up the attention every time

he's lab partners with Viper in Environmental Sciences and he likes trying to flirt with her

she actually hates him btw

Gekko

canonically he skateboards

but honestly? I can see him being on the dance team

he's so high energy, he needs some sort of outlet

he never misses an opportunity to show off his dance moves

homecoming? prom? he is the center of the dance circle

like Raze, he doesn't know how popular he is

he's just happy to have so many good friends that it doesn't even actually occur to him that he's considered "popular"

Iso

he's an ap art kid

like he walks around with a big ass sketchbook every day

always talking about his portfolio

Iso baby ily but please shut the fuck up about oil paints <3

he probably volunteered part of his summer break to come in and paint a mural for the school

I think he'd also take a piano class as like a schedule filler but he actually gets crazy good at it

Jett

pe tryhard

if you end up on the opposite team as her while playing dodge ball good luck 😓

she's always picked as team captain because literally no one else is excited as she is

she's sorta like Hairo from Saiki K 💀

she gets a lil mad when her teammates don't try

Killjoy

she's in robotics club

she's not very popular but that doesn't bother her at all

she heads straight to and from every class and spends her lunch period in the workshop unless Raze drags her off somewhere

not a lot of people actually know who she is, and if they do they just know her as 'Raze's Friend'

i think she'd remind the teacher about the homework and hit you with the "erm actually 🤓" tbh

Neon

she's on track and field/cross country

after every meet you can find her laying on the floor somewhere ready to puke bc she tries so hard to win 😭

she always ends up top 5 tho

she complains about practice but joins the team every year anyways

she carries her bag around all the time and if you open it there's like 10 water bottles in there

#hydratedqueen

Phoenix

theater kid DUHH

he's probably drama club president or sumn

bro will NOT let go of a specific song from a musical he was in his freshman year and it wasn't even his song 💀

he's been in every show every year and somehow he manages to land every role he wants

he's insanely good at the game 'bang' (mostly because he's louder than everyone else...)

he probably plans/hosts the cast parties too

Raze

she doesn't care much about her grades

she does the bare minimum and gets straight Cs

she's just here to have fun

everyone likes her because of her approachable personality

she doesn't think she's popular but she is

Sage

she's in the medical assistant class

she takes it very seriously, as she plans on going to medical school

even before taking the class she carries a first aid kit and other essentials everywhere she goes

you need a bandaid? ibuprofen? a pad or tampon? she has it all

she's also ASB president

school events literally would not be able to run without her

lets just say her college applications/resume will look REALLY good...

Skye

she also took medical assistant but was less crazy about it than Sage

she just follows her friend's lead

she thinks the skills are useful but she doesn't see herself making it her career

but also I think she would play volleyball

she's a well rounded player but specializes most in defense

still, don't underestimate her bc this girl can SPIKE

Viper

she took every ap science class offered without taking the general ones first

she complains about getting any grade below an A...

"What are you talking about? That test was easy"

sorry not everyone is as smart as you Sabine 😑

she spends all her free time at chem tutoring (even though she doesn't need it)

Yoru

he thinks he looks cool and mysterious when he walks down the halls but he doesn't

everyone just thinks his mad all the time and stay out of his way 😭

randos try to pick fights with him bc he "looked at them wrong" (Yoru wins every time)

he's not exactly a 'quiet kid' but he does lay low when it comes to the social part of school

despite his 'bad boy' look, he has pretty good grades

he's also probably one of those guys that a handful of girls have a crush on but he has no idea