#stupid thing to ask mona

[im-a-turtle-with-anger-issues]

Raph??

The magical girl talked to me, rokka rokka.

Sorry I got upset.

@rokkarokkawaii

*sigh*

I-

I'm sorry too.

[atlaswav]

CATACLYSMIC ☾

INFO: 5252 words..... dr ratio x fem! reader SYNOPSIS: You hate him, of that you're certain. You hate the man behind the alabaster figurehead, and you want to see him unravelled, but you don't know exactly what you do to him. WARNINGS: um alcohol and one kiss. also some swearing but mostly fine AUTHOR'S NOTE: rising from the grave to bring to you this thing i found this in my drafts from who knows how long when I was obsessed with this man (still am). someone help. i can no longer write this much for one fic. what was i on.

Veritas Ratio made it no secret that he despised those who lived in ignorance. He openly shunned those who were stupid enough to turn their eyes from knowledge – they’d be beggars in due time. They didn’t know how the world was governed, and ignorant fools would play victim to fate’s cruel touch.

With this philosophy of his, you often wondered whether or not his ivory figurehead would soon burst with the tumultuous storm of the man’s self importance. You wondered what would lie underneath. Surely, the divine makers would’ve allowed balance in his creation – surely, his face was horribly disfigured in exchange for such otherworldly intelligence. 

He was both delightfully astute and horrendously ill mannered at once. Brighter than your entire class combined – your entire university combined, no doubt – but his pretentiousness was overflowing, and you believed he was in dire need of being put in his place.

Arrogant and pretentious were two of the words that came to mind when someone mentioned Dr. Ratio, and you were sure you weren’t the only one who refused to worship his word like the gospel. In turn, he seemed to despise your very existence, as if you were merely a faded annotation in the footnotes of an ancient epic. Vandalising a work of art. A moustache on the Mona Lisa. Circe in the Odyssey, if she’d welcomed sailors with open arms, allowing them to degrade her as they would a common concubine, not a descendant of the gods.

Yet instead of sharing the witch’s beguiling, seductive nature, you only shared her mortal voice. Thin, reedy, quiet, compared to the booming voices of gods. The voice of Veritas Ratio. Your achievements could only pale in comparison to his, and it took everything within you to clap politely as he received his third – fourth? (you weren’t intent on keeping track) – diploma.

God you hated that man. You’d muttered as much under your breath countless times.

“Dr. Ratio is fine. No need to worship me.” he’d once corrected. But the attempt at humour was lost on you as your classmates began to laugh. The divine makers likely brought him into existence just to spite you. Oftentimes, you fought your urges to hurl the nearest textbook at his caricature head and watch the plaster crack, fall to the floor, and reveal his disfigured face. 

Not that you’d seen it before – lingered around him enough to see it disappear.

His scorn held no favourites, and certainly not when it came to you. He’d openly dragged your work through the dirt a couple of times before, and it was only a matter of time before he did it again. His words were scalding, leaving burns across your thin skin and leaving your mouth tasting of ash. Your voice, faint and human, fell quiet at his ‘gospel’. 

If it weren’t obvious, the hatred was mutual. He’d never admit it outright – he was far beyond these meaningless, trivial things such as immature hatred – but you felt his scathing glare in your soul, even through that perturbing headpiece, and that was enough. 

“Have you found it?” 

You turn around, meeting the cold, blank, unseeing gaze of his caricature head behind you. It was disconcerting to say the very least, but no one else had asked him about it, so you never pushed him further. None wanted to invoke his wrath, no matter what circumstance. It was a miracle neither of you had exploded at each other yet, but you suspected that he’d gladly put aside any type of loathing he harboured for you so that this project would get done faster. 

You were happy to oblige as he took the lead. A free credit was a free credit. But you did have your limits.

“Nope. The text is ancient. I doubt this library has it.”

“Nonsense.” he clicked his tongue, glancing to the side. “I’m asking the professor. Go work on your part.”

Patience is a virtue, as you keep reminding yourself. 

“Sure. Let me know if you find anything.” you say instead of the retort that sits on your tongue. False niceties and biting, underhanded remarks. This charade was entertaining, at the very least.

How did everyone love him? There had to be people like you who shared your dislike towards that conceited scholar. With a long suffering groan, you took a seat at one of the plethora of tables in the university’s library, clicked your pen and began to write. 

Maybe the reason he despised you so was because of your ideas, arguably the opposite of his own way of thinking. Where his twisted logic, rearranged rationality and pulled apart natural reasoning to formulate new material, you cut and stitched the work of others together to create your own emulations. (Frankenstein's monster. Was that a cliche? For Ratio, it probably was.)

He’d likely scrap what you’d written as soon as he returned, but that didn’t stop you from trying to spite him anyway. You hoped your readings wouldn’t go to waste as you recorded your findings, then started to draft an outline for your project. 

The scratch of paper became white nose, your hand struggling to keep up with the pace of your mind – was it even worth it? He’d likely call it worthless, snatch it from you and throw it into the recycling bin, then start writing his own outline. It only angered you further as you frowned at the page, wondering how he’d approach the project. 

The thump of a heavy tome on the wooden desk snapped you out of your sombre thoughts. 

“Here.” Ratio took a seat at the chair opposite of yours, brushing the dust off the thick text, leafing through its yellowed pages. “I told you they’d have it. You just need to search better.”

You offer him a tight smile. “Noted.” More false niceties, more flat remarks.

Then the figurehead disappears in a blink, and you nearly drop your pen. He barely pays you any mind as he runs a hand through his hair, flipping through the text. You’d heard the rumours of the handsome face beneath the statue, but you’d never have imagined him to be so disgustingly perfect. 

Statuesque. 

His deep violet locks looked unbelievably soft. His crimson eyes showed laser focus as he scanned the text in front of him, ignoring you completely as he noted something down. After a brief silence where you skim over your outline and he presumably attempts to decipher the undeniably unreadable and ancient text which you were opposed to reading in the first place, he turns to you with a sigh. “What did you do while I was gone?”

“I wrote an outline.” you hand the papers to him begrudgingly, fidgeting with the pen in your hand. You don’t meet his gaze, afraid that his calculating gaze might see too far into your soul. 

“This?” his distaste seeps through his tone. You don’t need to look at his face to know that he’s frowning. 

You say nothing as he skims through your work, twirling your pen between your fingers.

“...It’s not the worst thing I've ever read.”

Your eyebrows shoot up. 

“It’s not good, either.”

You scowl at him. 

“I can salvage it.” he nonchalantly throws it back onto the table, returning to the text at hand. 

You want to shove his grotesquely perfect face into the book. He really was put on this earth to spite you.

“Don’t just sit there. Go look for texts on criticism of our stance.”

You don’t know how you’re going to find the patience to survive this project. If anything, it irked you further to find that there wasn’t some monstrosity hidden behind that figurehead. In everything he did, he seemed to be inventing new ways to get on your nerves. However, unbeknownst to you, Veritas Ratio held you higher than you gave yourself credit for. He believed your ideas to be invigorating. Refreshing, almost. A welcome reprieve from the same reiterated, chewed, swallowed and regurgitated approaches that your other classmates had. 

You weren’t like the rest of the mindless, studying machines at the university. You could be brilliant, and it annoyed him that you didn’t know this. He’d admitted as much to himself before, but he’d never tell you. But it was still not good enough for his standards – far better than what the imbeciles in your class could’ve come up with – but still far behind him. Or so he kept telling himself. 

Days passed by without a word from either of you. You were content to write your part in the solitude of your dorm, and he seemed perfectly content mulling over whatever he’d found in that indecipherable ancient text. By the time you’d nearly finished your part, he decided to meet with you once again to share your findings. 

His definition of deciding to meet with you meant simply cornering you after class and asking you to follow him. 

You started to protest, but he’d already turned and briskly walked out of the classroom, so you groaned and followed after him, winding up in the library again. This time, in a secluded corner with the late afternoon sun pouring through the window, illuminating the small table and workspace with a warm glow. 

You wondered how he wasn’t winded after trekking across the entire campus. You certainly were. His muscled build suggested that a mere leisurely walk couldn’t possibly have tired him out. What did he eat? Was he what Nietzsche had in mind when he wrote of the Superman? 

“What are you doing? Sit.” he gestures to the seat across from him, and you sink into the armchair, taking out your papers. His headpiece disappears once again, and your breath catches in your throat. 

His hair cast a faint shadow across his face, and his eyes seemed to glow. As you leaned in closer, you realised there was a thin ring of gold around his pupils. 

“Are you done with your part?” he demands, breaking you out of your trance. 

You silently hand over your drafts, watching his eyes flit across your paper. His eyebrows furrow slightly, eyes narrowing, but he remains quiet. Were his eyelashes always this long? They created an indistinct shadow on his cheeks. His skin was pale, fair. Not the sickly kind of pale you thought he’d be. Did he exercise? You wouldn’t be surprised, with all your classmates always fawning over his broad, strong chest and narrower waist. 

Was it your imagination, or were his cheeks slightly flushed? It might have been the light. 

“It’s deplorable.”

Your heart sinks in your chest as you sit back against the armchair. 

“Your ideas are rudimentary. Have you been reading at all?” he sighs, holding his head in his hand. “No matter. I can fix it. I don’t need you to do anything anymore. You can go.”

You stay seated in shock, unable to move. You’ve heard the anecdotes of people crying over being scolded by him, but was he always this harsh? 

“You know it’s a group project, right?” you begin before your better judgement can decide against it, “My work is just as important as yours, it doesn’t matter if you think my work is ‘deplorable’. I’m in the same class, I take the same course, I learn the same things as you do, you don’t get to look down on me no matter how stupidly smart you are.”

He raises an eyebrow, unamused. “Why not?”

“Take that stick out of your ass, Veritas Ratio. Get off your high horse.” you snatch your papers out of his hands and take your leave, ignoring his calls of your name. 

Were you dramatic? Yes, but not without reason. Given Ratio’s reputation for prioritising academics over everything else, you suspected that it wouldn’t take long for him to find you, either. 

You were so wrong. 

More days passed with no contact. He didn’t seem to be affected by your dramatics, and never once batted an eye in your direction unless necessary. It seemed your hypothesis of him inventing new ways to get on your nerves was on the track of being proved correct. But if you didn’t do something within the next few days, you trusted him to turn in the project without your name on the paper, resulting in a zero. 

He was just as stubborn as you, and though you were nothing compared to him in actuality, you were so close to grabbing his face and forcing him to look at you for who you were.

Seemingly, even in the battle of wits, he seemed to emerge victorious. 

“Ratio.” 

He barely glances up, engrossed in his writing. “What?”

“Are you done with the project?” Biting the bullet stings your teeth and left a bitter taste on your tongue. 

“No. Not yet. Why? You’re finally going to help?”

“Are you going to stop looking down at me?” 

The library is nearly empty. The sun is barely a sliver on the horizon, and the voices of students float down the corridor beyond the grand stacks of books, yet you’re here. Why do you bother? Are you really that desperate for his validation?

“Are you going to keep writing such reprehensible work?”

You glare at him. “Guess not.” you turn on your heel.

“You’re absolutely infuriating.” he sighs, leaning back in the armchair. “You’re not aware of what you can do, are you?”

You glare at him. Your chest stings. 

He looks at you, then. Truly. His complexion relaxes, and he rubs his temples. “Sit. Let’s go through your part.”

“Why?”

“I mulled it over. Your part is brilliant.”

Your eyes widen.

“But your expression and research is appalling. Have you learned how to write academically at all?”

You’d never simultaneously wanted to slap and kiss a man at once until today. “What happened to getting off your high horse?”

“I got off it. Now sit and listen, I won’t repeat myself.”

You supposed that was the closest to an apology he’d ever give you, so you sat. It pained you, but you did. Besides, he had called you brilliant – your part – but still, you couldn’t force the smile from your face as you listened to his instruction. 

“Your ideas in your introduction are well formed, but from there, it all goes downhill. You have to reorder your logic for it to make sense, and we will be deducted points if you don’t elaborate on the principles of your concept first.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “So how would you do it?”

“For one, I’d restart completely and get straight to the point.”

You sigh exasperatedly. “Show me, then, if you’re so good.”

His eyes narrow at you, but he says nothing as he motions for you to come closer. 

The librarian was likely too scared to kick either of you out after closing time. Your arguments were heard by all of your neighbouring desks, and whenever there was a break in conversation, it seemed as if everyone held their breath. There was pin drop silence except for the two of you – but neither of you realised it. 

He was blunt, and had no idea what you were thinking, but perhaps this is what entrapped him. 

You, on the other hand, couldn’t stop thinking about how he had called your ideas brilliant. 

You quickly learn how good of a teacher he is. Maybe it’s his forced patience or once-in-a-millenium genuine praise that spurs your decision, but you find yourself so willing to prove yourself, and he finds himself willing to help. 

Maybe this wasn’t so bad. 

“Just fix it, stop arguing with me. I’m right.”

“Why? Do you know every single thing about our topic?”

“No, but I have four degrees and more experience than you.”

“Jackass.”

“Change it.”

You grumbled another insult under your breath, yawning as you scribbled out the section you wrote and began to reword your thoughts. The sudden quietude was jarring, and as you looked around, you realised the overhead lights were off, the only source of light from the lamps illuminating the desks. 

“Is everyone gone?” you ask, sitting up straight and stretching. 

“Who cares? Finish up, then we can head back.”

“Fuck you, give me a break. I don’t write at the pace of a robot.”

“Then learn.”

“Fuck you too Veritas Ratio.”

“Expand your vocabulary while you’re at it.”

“Why are you so intent on irritating me?”

“You get irritated easily. Not my problem.”

“If you know I get irritated easily, why do you keep provoking me then? Do you want me to hate you more?”

He seems to pause. Minisculely, almost unnoticeable had your gaze not been trained on him for the past few hours. He had a habit of pausing and furrowing his brows when you said something slightly out of line. 

“Just finish the paper. You talk too much.”

You sigh and get back to work as he leafs through his own research. 

Amicable silence passes. The night is alive outside, gleaming and glistening with the touch of benevolent gods and whispers of long gone wishes – pearls stitched by fate’s knowing hands. 

“I’m done.”

“Show me.”

You pass the paper to him as you watch his expression carefully. 

Crimson eyes flit across your work, gold ringed irises flickering in the scarce light. If you could capture the way the light reflected in his eyes in a jar, you think wishfully that you’d stare at it forever; Until the light died out, or it decided to escape the ephemeral glass confines. 

But you’d never admit it out loud. It was wishful. If Veritas Ratio could read minds, he would undoubtedly reprimand you.

He clears his throat, and you snap to attention, swatting away your fantasies of stealing and bottling evasive light. 

“It’s good.”

You wait for him to speak further, but he says nothing. “Just good?”

“Well, by my standards, no, but for you, it’s good.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“I mean,” he leans on the table, forearms flexing. “That you’re finally starting to live up to your potential.”

“Huh?”

He blinks. “What do you mean?”

“What potential?”

He shakes his head absently, almost in disbelief. Forget light, you’d barter with the lady of fate to let you preserve this moment in a frame so that you could glimpse this expression forever. You’d never seen him so dumbfounded and awed at once – you doubt anyone ever has. He’d always been a man of knowing, and whatever he didn’t know, he would find out. Nothing was ever a “maybe,” or a “probably,” it was always absolute. It had to be absolute in his philosophy. 

You happened to be the one exception. 

“You’re not aware of the potential you have?”

“You think I have potential?”

“Aeons,” he murmurs under his breath, before standing and gathering his belongings. “I’m going to bed. See you in class tomorrow. We’ll finish up then.”

He leaves before you have the chance to question him, but as you slump back in your armchair, you can’t help but smile. 

Potential was as close as you’d ever get to a compliment from Veritas. 

—

The lady of fortune and lady Themis looked him in the eyes and saw their mortal emanator at his birth. He’d never been certain what he was made for, but he never let it burden him. Things like these weren’t made for him to ponder, that was up to the dreamers and inventors. 

He was a being of logic. A doctor of calculations and reason, and everyone knew him as such. 

But he simply couldn’t figure out what it was about you – your naive gaze or that pout that absently curved your lips – that had your words and scent and eyes lingering in his mind like a vengeful phantom. 

You were the being of all chaos and irrationality, but you were so bright. Unhoned, rough and unhewn. A gemstone shining with impurities but shining still, casting a beautiful mosaic cast across the ground with indecipherable shapes and patterns. 

It was deplorable. He hated you for being on his mind, and hated you even more for your wasted potential. He hated how you stared, how his cheeks would redden from the intensity of your gaze, and how he’d have to pretend he was unfazed, because he couldn’t afford any distractions. 

You were the being of his undoing, he was sure. You were brought into existence to spite him, to bring an unaccounted variable into the equation of his being, and present a causality dilemma for all he was. 

He wanted you gone, but he wanted you closer all at once. 

He hated it. 

It wasn’t common for him to sleep in either, so when he woke five minutes before class was supposed to start, he cursed you with all the spite in his heart and rushed to class, clutching papers from the night before, still imbued with traces of your lingering fragrance. Just how long had you pored over those papers for your smell to latch to them? It should be impossible. Fate was clearly against him. 

Fate brought you back together as he entered the brimming lecture hall, and the only vacant seat was the one next to you. 

“Did you get the papers in order?” you asked, glancing at his dishevelled state. The Dr Ratio you knew was never dishevelled, but this was the closest you’d ever seen him to it. 

“Yes. Just write your name on your bits and sign the sign off sheet and it’s complete.”

You take the paper from him, scrawling your name across your work, then handing it back. 

With your project finally submitted, you could breathe easy again – never endure his biting remarks and criticism again. 

But as the class progressed, you realised you were in trouble. 

The professor was merciless. He flicked through the presentation on the new topic with haste, rushing through new concepts, formulae and calculations with record speeds. You’d nudged Ratio, whispering for help, but he rolled his eyes and kept his stare attentively on the presentation. 

You wanted to slap him. 

Was he tolerating you because of the project? Was he going back to cold stares and dismissive glances?

You wouldn’t allow it. Not when you were so close to discovering the man behind the alabaster figurehead. As soon as the professor signalled the end of the lecture, a collective sigh was released from the class. 

You turned to Ratio, and he was already staring at you. 

“What was it you wanted to say?”

“Tutor me please.”

He raised a brow. “Why?”

“Because you’re smart.”

“Pick someone else, then. I don’t see why I should.”

“You asshole, I’ll buy you lunch if you tutor me.”

He frowns at you as he begins to leave. You trail after him. “Please?”

He sighs deeply. Like a man burdened with the weight of his own world on his shoulders. Byron’s brooding, romantic hero, in his melodramatic glory. “Fine. Stop annoying me.”

You smile. “Thanks. Meet you at your dorm after dinner?”

He sighs again. “ Don’t be late or I'll lock the door and go to bed.”

He watched the seconds tick by in agonising motion – a man awaiting his sentence, but also his reprieve. Is this what his classmates felt before they took tests? It certainly seemed like it. Relief was on the horizon, and yet great suffering was imminent. He’d never known the feeling until now.

But as they say, the harder the rain, the sweeter the sun, and he wasn’t about to relinquish his quest to decipher you. 

It seemed mutual as he paced in front of his front door, having eaten dinner at the cafeteria early to mentally prepare himself. 

When your knock finally sounded at his door, he sighed, checked his watch, then reluctantly opened the door. 

You were a picture to behold. 

Hair slightly damp from a shower, drowning in loose, oversized clothing. It was all painfully domestic to see you walk through his doorway, scanning his living space. In the back of his mind, he thought it felt right, but he shook his head. 

You were messing with him again. 

Two could play that game. 

“Take a seat.” He pulled out a stool from his kitchen island. “Want a drink?”

“What, like alcohol?” you huffed. 

“Are you an alcoholic?”

“Only if you want me to be.” you shrug, setting down your notes on the bench.

He sighs exasperatedly, already berating himself for agreeing to this. He never agreed to tutor anyone. Why were you the exception? You shouldn’t be. 

His hypothesis: you were trying to get something out of him. A way to cheat the class, his academic favour, something hedonistic, even. It seemed plausible enough, but you listened intently as he explained the concepts the professor spoke of in the lecture, asking questions and actively engaging with his explanation. 

It didn’t seem like there was any ulterior motive. So why was he letting you break his rules and defy his nature?

“God, why didn't the prof explain it during that lesson? Everyone struggled.”

“You’re not smart enough to understand his concise methods, then.” he huffed. 

“You’re too smart.”

“You’re not smart enough.”

“Smart ass,”

“Get back to work. You did that question wrong, by the way.”

You groaned. “Where?”

He was so caught up in your quarrels that he didn’t notice the time grinding away at the pestle. It was nearly midnight when you’d finally caught up with that day’s classwork, and he sighed in relief. 

“You understand?”

“Yes. You don’t have to worry now.”

“I won’t. Now get out.”

“No drink?” you frowned, pretending to sulk at his expense. He simply stared at you, getting up from his stool and walking to the fridge. 

Remarkably, he pulled out two beers. 

“Don’t speak. If you do, I'll regret allowing you over again.”

A smile befell your lips. “I’m not saying anything.”

“I don’t like the look on your face.”

“Wipe it off then.”

A frown.  His new hypothesis: you were trying to seduce him for better grades, more tutoring sessions, or for his own downfall. 

“Drink and leave.”

“If you say so.” you take the chilled bottle and drink. He watches your throat move, and he thinks of himself as pathetic as he drinks as well, wincing at the bitterness. 

“Do you live by yourself?” you ask, head propped onto your hand. 

“I do.”

“Are you lonely or something?”

“No, people are irritating.” Like you.

“What a ray of sunshine you are.” You’re not much better.

“I don’t have to put up with any idiocy.���

“If you say so.”

Quiet passes as beer fizzes in the bottles, golden liquid sloshing at the sides of the glass. 

One thing you learn that night is that Veritas Ratio, the famed multiple time valedictorian of your university, is an extreme lightweight. His cheeks become red quicker than you can finish your bottle, and he starts to grumble nonsense under his breath. 

“You’re really smart, you know?” he suddenly says after mumbling something about quantum physics.

“What was that?” 

“You’re really smart. Really smart. Impressive.”

“Really?”

“Yes, you idiot, how many times do I have to repeat myself?” he leans on the bench, not entirely aware of his surroundings as he does so.  He squints at the ground. 

He’s a cute drunk, you realise begrudgingly.

“Thanks, Veritas. You’re smart too.”

“I know.” he drinks from his bottle again, swirling the dregs. “But I can’t figure you out.”

“Hm?”

“Why are you acting like this?”

“Like what?”

“Do you hate me?”

You hesitate for a moment. “Yes.”

“Then why are you like this?”

Your eyebrows raise. 

“You’re making me irrational. I can’t figure it out.”

“...Sorry?”

“You should be. You know, I was nearly late to class today because of you. You kept me awake.”

“Really?”

“I couldn’t stop thinking. Thoughts. And things.”

You laugh at his predicament, draining your beer and gathering your things. Trying to leave before he said anything that could turn the encounter south. 

“Wait. Don’t go.” he slams his palm onto your notes, determination in his eyes. 

“I need to go to bed.” you say as if scolding a child.

“I need to figure you out. You’re still an enigma to me. The anomaly of my behaviour. Is this your intention?”

“What are you talking about? You’re drunk.”

“I can think. I can move. I can see fine. I’m not drunk. Answer me.”

“Maybe I'm just so mesmerising to you.” you joke, but his brows furrowed in thought. 

“Maybe.” he retracts his hand from your notes, and you stow them away into your bag, slinging it onto your shoulder before he can do anything else. 

As you’re halfway to the door, he pushes you against the wall. 

You never realised how tall he was until then. How much of a height difference you had, or how muscular he was. He had to have worked out on a daily basis. The pungent smell of alcohol lingered on his breath, and his cheeks were tainted with deep red as he searched your gaze. 

You decide he’s officially lost his mind, but who were you to complain?

“Are you mesmerising?” he whispers, eyes trailing down your face, examining and analysing, his hand tracing down your body with those slender scholar’s hands.

“You tell me.”

Then he grabs your face and mashes your lips together. The kiss is rough, biting and rushed. You freeze for a sliver of a second before returning it, letting him decide your allure with his own devices. 

He pulls away almost too fast, lips kiss bitten, breath fast. 

“You’re a siren.”

“Am I?”

“You’re going to ruin me.”

“What a weak man you are, if it only takes one woman to ruin you.”

“I hate you.”

“Really?”

“I hate it because I’d probably let you.”

“Are you a masochist?”

“Not in my right mind. I’ll wake up and regret everything, but it’ll all be the same, fundamentally.”

“So what’s your conclusion?”

He still has you pushed against the wall, caged within himself. “You were put into this world to bring about my destruction.”

“How? Why?”

“You’re my opposite. Brash, naive, carefree.”

“Are you normally this analytical of people?”

“No, which supports my point.”

“I see. So you’re going to let me ruin your image?”

“No. I hate you for it.”

“Let me go then.”

He wordlessly steps away, and you stumble to the door. 

“So what are we?” you ask, turned away from him. You can’t see the way he drinks in your visage like a starving man, and the small, sober part of him is grateful for it. 

“Polar opposites.”

“I mean who am I to you?”

He’s silent for a while, so you turn back to him to find him leaning on the wall, gazing into space. 

“Veritas?”

“You’re my undoing. A catalyst, maybe, for my downfall. But there must be balance, right? So what are you?”

“What am I?”

“I don’t know.”

You knew then that he was beyond reason. Was this what you did to him? You took some sadistic pride in seeing a man such as himself reduced to a mumbling, questioning, incoherent mess. You were somewhat pleased with the effect you had on him., but you could never let him know this. 

He crumpled to the floor, back to the wall, clutching his head in his hands. “I’ll figure you out.”

“Sure you will. Goodnight, Veritas.”

“Night.”

Your smile was brighter than the morning as you left his apartment, embracing the night’s welcoming chill. 

written by @atlaswav , published 15th of July 2024

[lexirosewrites]

In honor of nurse appreciation week…

Instead of ‘Eddie gets a toy stuck in him and Steve helps him get it out,’ what about alpha Eddie picks out the wrong size of ‘pocket omega,’ so his knot gets stuck and he goes to the ER?

Omega nurse Steve is both horrified and impressed.

He wants to just get out the sterile scissors and start working at cutting away the rubbery toy piece by piece, but he can’t help the lecture that starts to slip out too.

Who can blame him? He is a nurse after all.

“You have to be more careful next time. You can really constrict the blood flow with these things if you’re not careful!”

Eddie’s face somehow gets even more flushed and he mumbles something, not making eye contact when he does.

“Sorry?” Steve asks, ready to admonish him for whatever excuse he has for buying the wrong size. “What was that?”

Some alphas just think ‘smaller is better’ and Steve knows that’s bullshit.

To believe otherwise is just antiquated and juvenile alpha-brained thinking.

Eddie clears his throat, finally looking at Steve directly when he explains sheepishly, “I got the biggest size I could find. It’s just… my knot is kinda huge.”

Steve whimpers a little at that, clamping his legs together tightly at the thought of such a large knot filling him.

“O-oh.”

He’s glad he wasn’t holding the scissors.

“Yeah, it’s kind of an awful problem to have,” the alpha admits as Steve tries to get a hold of himself and do his job like a professional.

His mouth might be watering now.

“No! I mean- uh, I’m sure there are plenty of omegas who would be willing to- that- that is to say- um…”

He can’t think of anything but big knots and being filled with them.

Eddie chuckles, scratching at the back of his neck.

“You don’t have to lie to make me feel better about it, sweetheart. This isn’t the first time I’ve been here for the same stupid problem. This company just advertised carrying a size big enough to accommodate any knot and I believed them.”

Steve is going to cum in his fucking scrub pants like some slutty omega who can’t control themselves.

If Eddie’s telling the truth (and Steve’s inclined to believe him, especially since the proof is almost in front of him), then Steve’s never going to stop thinking about it.

He makes the last few cuts, finally able to pull the mangled toy off his patient’s swollen cock and behold the goddamn ‘Mona Lisa’ of alpha knots resting in his unworthy hands.

Jesus Christ.

It’s one thing for Eddie to say he’s been blessed in this particular area and it’s another for Steve to see it with his own eyes.

(and hold it)

“Oh good, it deflated a bit,” Eddie states with relief.

Huh.

“It… went down? This isn’t your full knot?” Steve wheezes out.

The alpha’s timid smile turns into something closer to a smirk, almost like he’s proud now.

“I mean, you can find out if you keep stroking it like that.”

Steve looks down, horrified to find that he was indeed running his hands along Eddie’s cock like some sort of trophy in need of polishing.

“I am so sorry! I don’t know what’s come over me. This is beyond inappropriate. I’m sure you’re ready to go home and forget all of this!”

Eddie clicks his tongue thoughtfully, keeping Steve practically on the edge of his seat in anticipation.

“While I could do without the ER bill, I think I can justify the visit if I leave with an actual omega. Maybe even one who’s a bit of a size queen?” he suggests coyly.

Steve gapes at the sheer boldness.

“How- uh, why would you assume that?” he flusters, the room feeling much smaller suddenly.

Eddie raises an eyebrow.

Steve raises one back.

The alpha doesn’t break eye contact, reaching down to wrap his hand around Steve’s, giving it a light squeeze.

“Might have something to do with the fact that you still haven’t let go of my knot, baby,” Eddie purrs, leaning in closer so his warm breath tickles Steve’s face. “Or maybe it’s that fucking puddle underneath you that’s getting worse by the minute. You’re dripping for my knot.”

He is.

Steve can hardly breathe, every inhale giving him a mouthful of heady alpha hormones.

Despite the scent neutralizers pumped out into the hospital air and the patch stuck on Steve’s own scent gland, he’s fucking enraptured by the smell.

His hand twitches, tightening.

Steve can’t help but blurt out, “My pussy can take it. I fuck myself open on the biggest fake alpha cocks I can find every night, but they’re never enough. They’ve- they’ve never been—”

He swallows, trying not to choke on his own drool building up in his mouth from ust.

Eddie presses his lips right up against Steve’s ear, letting them brush his skin when he whispers, “Yeah, sweetheart? They’ve never been… what?”

The alpha’s other hand drifts between Steve’s legs, pushing down the front of his pants and finding his arousal evident there.

Steve whines pathetically at the feeling of Eddie’s searching fingers running through the slick on his flushed skin.

“They’ve never been as big as you are, alpha,” he confesses, breaking every last ounce of willpower and giving in to his needs completely.

“What do you want, omega?” Eddie asks, trailing kisses behind his ear and down his neck. “What do you need from me?”

“I- I need…” Steve keens loudly as a wet kiss is pressed directly to his mating gland. “Your knot splitting me open like I’m just a toy.”

Eddie smiles.

“You are my toy.”

[taylormarieee]

~Entranced~ sam winchester

Summary: You were a belly dancer and a singer, when Sam and Dean had to investigate you because your sister had gone missing, he couldn’t help but be entranced by you. In other words, he couldn’t help but want to get into your pants…

Word Count: 3.4k (wowzers)

Pairing: Sam Winchester x WOC!bellydancer

Warnings: porn with plot, long ass story line, obsessed sam, wingman dean, enticing reader, mentions of death and demons, typical supernatural tingz, smut, sexual tension, dirty talk, pet names (sweetheart, pretty lady, etc.) pussy whipped sam, sam drunk off readers love, reader is in love with sam, creampie, oral (male and fem receiving), cowgirl, use of 18+ language, MDNI!!!! enjoy cuz he's been on my mind for a long time.

A/N: ok hey guyyssss! I’ve been fantasizing about Sam ALOT lately like specifically season 2 Sammy so enjoy this smutty whoretastic slutty ass fic because I was indeed ovulating🙏🏽😭😁

*thump thump thump*

you smile as your body and hips move to the rhythm of the song. you were dancing and singing your heart out. mostly getting hollered at and whistled at along with a string of cheers. you laugh and smile as you move to the beat.

all of a sudden you feel yourself being watched. yes, that sounded stupid as there were hundreds of people watching you but these certain pair of eyes were burning. you could feel it.

you look around and walk all over the stage and that's when you see him. a man in a black suit along with another hot guy staring the same lust full daggers your way as everyone else.

but the other one, his hair was long and such a luscious brown. his eyes held one of admiration, as if you were admiring the mona lisa at an art gallery.

you liked him. he was cute, sexy even and that you certainly couldn't deny. when you got done with your performance you asked one of the security guards if they could kindly bring the two boys over to you backstage.

"hello boys, anything I can help you with?" you ask as you wipe off some sweat from your face.

"how'd you know we needed help?" the shorter one asked with a smirk on his face as he steps closer to you.

"well for starters, your both dressed in suits, sat in the back of the club all mysteriously, staring daggers right at me and shall I go on?" you list with a smile on your face.

you shift your weight from one foot to the other as you glance between the two of them.

the both of them look at each other and then chuckle. "guess you got us there" the taller one states with his charming smile.

"what are your names again? and who do you work for?" you asked as you sat down gesturing them to sit as well.

"oh I'm detective roadkill and this is detective showers." dean speaks out with a smirk.

"were FBI." he says as your face scrunches up into one of concern and confusion.

"why would FBI agents show up at our little club, no ones done anything wrong I hope, one of the main reasons we have security." you say with a dry chuckle.

"no no, not at all, uhm were looking in to the disappearance of your sister melisa?" sam asks.

"I-I don't feel like talking about it. she's not gone, she's dead." you say with tears prickling in your eyes.

"how would you possibly know that? police never found a body." dean says.

"exactly, main reason why I don't believe she disappeared or it was some freak kidnapping. even if she was kidnapped, she's been gone for 3 weeks, what are the possible chances she is alive? hm?" you say pacing and throwing your hands about.

"I know she's dead. I can feel it. It's a sibling thing, you two wouldn't understand." you explain.

"oh trust me, I get it. see I have this brother. means the world to me and yea he can be a real pain in the ass sometimes." he says with a chuckle which causes you to giggle too.

"I love him regardless because no matter how much we argue, I know he means well and just wants to protect me." sam finishes.

dean looks at him and you hum. they really thought you were stupid. you knew who they were, you just hated how these hotties could lie to you.

"sam, dean. this was a really fun talk but I don't know where my sister is." you say smirking at them with their confused faces facing you in return.

"H-How did you-"

"how did I know? oh it's pretty obvious, see word gets around that some fbi agents are asking around for my sister and then I find out you two are hunters? yea I am one of the ones that knows what's going on around here. what really goes bump in the night. what really lurks in the shadows when your not paying attention. my dad was a hunter, just like you guys. just like your dad." you say circling them as you go to pour them a drink.

"wow, that was-" sam starts.

"smart? impressive? amazingly cool?" you ask handing them the drinks.

"I was going to say hot. That was really hot but you know, those words work too." he says chuckling.

"aww thanks sam, I really appreciate it." you respond as you take a sip of your whiskey.

"ok seriously, we wanna help you. If you really know what's going on then maybe we can still save other people including your sister." sam states.

"now did you smell any sulfur in her house or maybe saw black smoke or maybe she was acting aggressive and erratically before her disappearance?" dean asks scooting up in his seat more.

"uhm not that I can recall. she was normal. my sister was a kind soul, she would never even hurt a damn fly. I mean the first week of her disappearance I thought it was her douchebag of a boyfriend. ex-boyfriend i should say, that ungrateful son of a bitch." you say with spite.

"oh so was he a suspect?" dean asks.

"ofc he was! He was the main suspect, but it was also stupid for the cops to think I would kill my own sister, like that's insanity." you argue.

"alright so, if it's not ghost or demonic possession..." dean starts.

"then what the hell is it?" sam asks. all of you shrug and sit in silence for a second.

"hey I got a question for you." dean asks you. you look up at him and nod with a hum.

"you think sammy could stay with you tonight?" dean asks. your eyes widen and sam turns to dean with a incredulous look.

"no it's fine." he turns to you and says. "I don't understand why I can't just stay at the motel dean, what the hell are you doing?" he whisper-yells to dean.

"you've been making googly eyes all freakin' night, just stop stressin' and get laid. trust me you need it. your veins popping out." he says as he clears his throat.

"so, can he? It would be really appreciated, see I have stuff to do and I don't want him to be in there alone, so maybe he can keep you company? plus we have no clue if whatever this thing is an M.O. and might come after you too." dean convincingly explains which persuades you to say...

"yea sure dean, sam it's ok. I'm cool with it, you can stay with me, i've got a cozy house." you say with a smile.

"plus I gotta get up outta here anyway, shall we?" you ask swaying your hips as you walk towards the door and walk out leading sam and dean out the back.

they watch your ass and hips sway and that beautiful little outfit you belly dancers always wore. sam couldn't keep it in anymore, he was entranced. obsessed. lured in like a moth drawn to a flame.

"here take m-my jacket. you must be cold." sam offers. you smile and accept it with a thank you, after all you were wearing a bra like top that covered little.

your hand brushed his for a mere second and it felt like electricity surged through you both.

you slide your arms through the sleeves of his jacket as you walk towards your car. your keys jingling in the process as they dangle from your hip.

you unlock the car and prop yourself in the drivers seat as same props himself in the passengers seat.

"oooo it really is cold out, thanks again for the jacket sam, don't know what I would do without you." you seductively say, without the intention of trying to be seductive but thankful instead.

"yea n-no problem. just me being me." he says as you start the engine turning up the A/C and backing out the parking lot.

sam looks out the window and notices dean in the impala with two thumbs up and a smirk on his face to which he rolls his eyes at and begs to god you don't see deans childish acts.

~ TRENTON, NEW JERSEY, 2007, 10:26PM @ YOUR HOUSE~

"get cozy, looks like your going to be here for a while." you say with a smile, shrugging off his jacket to place on the coat rack.

he takes off his shoes and makes his way immediately towards your fireplace and your couch.

you watch him trudge over there and sit down his tall lean figure finally shrinking just a bit but when he sits back up his broad shoulders are back on display.

‘god what was wrong with you.’ you thought, you just couldn’t get him out of your head.

but luckily the same goes for him because you racked his brain since the moment his eyes laid a glance at your face.

you were so enticing and enchanting, of course a guy like sam couldn’t resist, he was whipped for you so badly and you didn’t even know it.

“are you hungry sammy? can i even call you sammy or is that a you and dean thing?” you ask bringing over a bowl of grapes and some wine for you and a beer for him.

“you can call me whatever you want- i-i mean yea! you can call me sammy i don’t mind.” he stutters out nervously

you him again and take a sip of the wine straight from the bottle. sam watched as your plump and glossy lips wrap around the top of the bottle wishing it was his dick instead.

he gulps as he watches your throat bob up and down as you swallow the wine.

he quickly takes a swig of his beer and you watch his Adam’s Apple bob up and down. you watched as he wraps his lips around the beer bottles top wishing it was your clit.

the tension in the room was clearly escalating just a tiny bit. 'was it just you or is it hot in here.' you thought.

you take another sip of the wine and tuck your legs under one another as if in a criss-cross motion.

"so, what do you wanna do now? dean said he won't be back for a couple of hours." sam asks.

"honestly I usually shower and go right to bed after long nights like these, but I wasn't exactly expecting company so i'm stumped here." you say with a slight chuckle.

"yea sorry to be such a burden." sam says with a playful roll of his eyes. you scoff not seeing his eye roll and take his statement the wrong way.

"look i never said you were a burden, i'm just confused on how to entertain a fucking hunter sam." you speak with slight aggression in your tone.

"look, i was just joking with you. If you took my statement the wrong way i'm sorry. I'll totally leave." he says getting up to go grab his jacket.

'n-no sammy wait. I-fuck. I didn't mean that, i'm sorry. It's just been a really long day and I'm just stumped ok, please stay?" you apologize.

"ok, if you want to go take a shower and rest that's fine by me, i'll stay.' he says standing quite dangerously close to you.

you inhale his scent for a second, his scent bringing you comfort and warmth. you don't even realized you closed a few inches in the gap between you two.

"w-what are you doing?" sam asks. his hands stuck at his side just itching to touch you. you take note of it.

"do you wanna touch me sammy?" you asks seductively. you glide your hand up and down his chest as you stare up at him with your seductive eyes.

"w-what?" he stutters out nervously. he gulps as your hand goes lower and lower.

"I said, do you want to touch me sam." you repeat your previous question. "I know you want to, your hands are twitching." you say smugly.

"fuck, uhm yea. I do, very badly." he says as he moves his hands to grab your waist. you moan at the warmth of his hands on your body.

"I know you wanna kiss me." you whisper in his ear. your on your tiptoes as sam is much taller than you.

you grab his belt to pull him closer and that was his breaking point. his lips are immediately on yours in a feverish and desperate pent up kiss.

you both fumble with his belt and trip over each others feet. you both eventually fall to the floor letting out a fit of giggles and laughs at your clumsy shenanigans.

"fuck, your so gorgeous you know that?" sam compliments. you smile and kiss him again.

"and your so handsome, thank god your parents got together." you say with a grin as you unclip your bra.

he unbuttoned his nicely pressed shirt and unbuttoned and unzipped his dress pants.

your both crawling towards the couch now, sam ripping off the cushions and you taking off the rest of your outfit leaving you in your underwear only.

pretty black laced panties to match your outfit. his eyes bulged out of his head at the sight of you. your body was gorgeous. everything about you was gorgeous, your personality as well.

"god damn your beautiful." he whispers as he sinks into the couch and you climb on top of him.

"thank you sammy. can you please fuck me now." you ask.

with a primal like growl, sam rolls you over so he's now on top of you. "oh sweetheart, gotta prep you first. don't think you can take big ole me by yourself now can you?" he teases as he kissed down your body.

after an agonizingly long trip downwards, his lips finally coming in contact with the place you've been wanting him most all night.

his warm breath hits your soaking entrance and his skilfully long tongue teases your clit.

"f-fuck sammy, pleasee-ngh- please just fuck me I'll be a good girl for you p-please." you beg as you feel one finger slot itself inside of you.

you moan out at the feeling. the feeling of pain and pleasure combined as he stretches you out. 'fuck you haven't felt this good since your last boyfriend.' you thought.

your brain was soonly erased by the feeling of sam's second finger entering your dripping hole. his lips whispering dirty things into your cunt as he licks and slurps your cunt.

you tug on his hair and cry out his name, how can someone fingers and tongue work so skillfully together at the same time.

"yes sam! right fucking there, fuck fuck fuck-ngh-ugh! yea yea, holy shit daddy!" you scream out.

he moans into your cunt at hearing you call him daddy. you were a lot younger than him, he was 5 years older than you. he loved this dominance he had over you, but he became feral whenever you tugged his hair.

desperate to get off as he ruts himself against the couch. a feeling of ecstacy washing over you and determination washing over sam. he was going to make you cum and then he was gonna rearrange your guts like never before.

your walla clench and tighten around him and he groans at how rough your tugging on his lucious brown locks. your crying his name out like a prayer over and over again.

you moan one last time before silently letting out a scream as you convulse and shake as your orgasm floods your entire body.

"oohhhh fuckkk!" you moan out as your orgasmic feeling washes away intensely.

"was I good baby?'" sam asks curiously. his lips stained with your arousal and essence. you grab his face pulling him closer to you as you kiss him sloppily getting a taste of yourself off of his tongue.

"you did amazing baby, now lemme help you. looks painful." you suggest staring at his rock hard boner through his boxers.

a wet patch on the front from his precum and getting himself all worked up.

you let him sit on the couch normally and tug his boxers down slowly. he whines when the refreshing air hits his tip.

his tip is a pretty color, a nice hue of pink. ready... waiting to be sucked and fucked on.

you lick the precum around his tip and on his shaft. you engulf his tip in your mouth wanting to get more of a taste and he moans. he watches your pretty lips engulf him and swallow him whole.

he holds the back of your head pushing you down further and getting lost in the haze of lust. he moans out your name a little louder each time you gag around him.

your throat was so wet and so warm. your saliva pooling at the corners of your mouth. you mascara surrounding the under parts of your eyes as tears stream down your face in slow motion.

your head bobs faster and faster, you gagging each time but you didn't care you wanted to taste his cum inside your mouth, you wanted it so deep down your throat that you wouldn't stop until he was crying.

you wanted sam winchester and sam winchester wanted you.

he pushes you off him quickly when he feels his release approaching.

"no no wait i'm gonna cum! I don't wanna cum like this, I want it inside you. wanna creampie you and give y-you babies." he whines out.

you smirk and kiss him softly, "ok sam. gimme all your babies, come inside me like a good little boy hmm?" you asks seductively as you push sweaty strands of hair out of his pretty face.

you climb back on top of him and sink slowly down on to him. you cry out a bit at the pain of the stretch, he really was a big boy.

"he whines and the grip on your waist tightens. you moan and feel his cock slowly piercing you more and more and the feeling of pain easily subsides once he's in you all the way.

"I'm going to start moving now ok sam?" you confirm and he nods with a hazy smile.

he's drunk of you. eyes and mind entranced by you. filled with you. he's literally inside you. he's encompassed by you, your smell, your words. everything.

sam winchester is a simp for you and there's nothing that could change his mind.

your bounces start off slow and then they rapidly speed up in pace. your both moaning and groaning, incapable of holding them in any longer.

you needed to hear him as he needed to hear you. he honeslt ydidn't think hearing you moan could get him any more harder but it did.

you were both close now, on to your second orgasm of the night while trying to get him off on his first.

"sammy I-fuck-ngh. I love you so much sam, please give me your babies please!" you scream out as you gush all over his cock. "come on cum in me please!" you scream out.

sam groans as his climax hits him like a wave, he explodes. loads and loads of semen just squirting inside you. you sigh a sigh of happiness and content.

he was filled to the brim with cum and it was just never ending. he stays inside you for a bit, slowly but weakly thrusting up into you to keep his cum inside you.

your both panting and out of breath. he smiles and you do to giving him a long and passionate kiss.

"hey." you say with a giggle

"hey beautiful." he says chuckling.

"wanna go upstairs with me to you know, rinse the night off?" you asks with a smile as you slowly slip off his cock, hissing as you do so.

before sam can even respond your losing your balance causing you to fall over. you grab onto the fireplace mantle for stability as sam gets up to help you.

he grabs on to your waist and holds you there before smirking and picking you up bridal style.

"let's go get that shower huh? and then you are going to bed pretty lady." he says with a smirk.

your face is flushed even more than before and your flustered before wrapping your arms around his neck and snuggling into his embrace.

Taglist: @dollyfl1rt @itzdarling @sammyluvr @liliesdiary @ribbonprincess @bellahadidnt16 @iilovefictionalpeople @aerangi @keiva1000 @madafton @niktwazny303 @prettyluhdavis @kqmbr1a + anyone else who wants to join

©TaylorMarieee| All rights reserved. Do not repost, re-upload, translate, modify, or claim my work as your own without permission.

A/N: Sorry to all the people who were in my taglist box and i never tagged you in my latest works, i'm so sorry i forgot to check it, I hope you all and others enjoy this one!

[house-of-lovin]

legally binded - 7

Jenna Ortega x F!Reader

masterlist | series mast. | prev. part | next part

Chapter 7: The Afterparty

Summary: After getting caught in some hot waters with the press, you are forced into an unexpected agreement with America's sweetheart, Jenna Ortega to save your career.

Warnings/Tags: dual!pov, famous!reader, actress!reader, mentions of substances, intoxication, mature language, real people. (do not read if any of these make you uncomfortable)

(this is all fiction!)

Note: so... lovely weather we're having. 🙂

Word Count: 4k+

“Where’s Y/N?” Enrique asked as the door of the van shuts closed, for a moment, the incessant sounds of camera shutters and the crowd shouting her name become muffled.

And in that same moment, Jenna feels like she can finally breathe properly through her own lungs. 

“Upstairs,” Jenna mumbled, leaning her expertly pinned hair against the headrest, and closing her eyes.

“I take it things didn’t go well?” He fiddled with his cap, frowning as he watched the young actress’ exhausted features.

Jenna hummed in confirmation but said nothing else, looking out the tinted window as the van started driving slowly. 

Staring up at the hotel, she scanned the various, nearly identical windows for your hotel room. Jenna didn’t even know if your room was facing this direction but she looked anyway, a wishful part of herself hoped to catch a glance of you.

“Don’t worry, it’ll be okay. You two will be okay.”

Jenna snorted, shooting her stylist an incredulous look. “I thought you were mad at her?”

“I’m mad at her for being stupid and for hurting you… even if she is a cutie.” He rolled his eyes, getting comfortable in his seat.

The actress laughed. “Don’t let her hear you say that, you know she has a massive ego.”

Enrique joined in on the laughter before his tone dropped, “You know Sarah and Liv are going to find out that the two of you didn't go to the same party…”

Right now, Jenna could care less about whatever kind of consequence she may get. The embers from her argument with you are still burning bright.

“That’s an issue for later.”

***

Jenna tried to make the best of a bad situation.

She really did.

Even though this wasn’t how she expected to spend the rest of her night — she somehow found a way to let loose. Maybe after she found a few familiar faces that pulled her in to dance, tipped back a few drinks and sang along as Janelle Monae performed for her after-party.

But even still, under the guise of alcohol and a good time. There was an unpleasant churn in her stomach whenever she allowed her mind to drift off to you.

“I’m gonna go to the washroom!” Jenna yelled through the music. Enrique nodded, continuing to cheer Janelle Monae on stage.

Laughing, she walked away while shaking her head; amused at her friend. Glad that he’s having a good time. One of them deserves to be having fun, at least.

As Jenna pushed through the heavy-panelled door of the powder room, she sat on the couch and placed her purse down. Grateful to be stretching her aching legs. 

She takes a second to breathe and in that moment, allowed herself to think about you; wondering which party you went to and who you were surrounded by.

And for a split second, that unpleasant churn in her stomach reemerged as her mind drifted to all the worst possible outcomes of what you could be doing tonight.

Are you safe?

Is someone looking out for you?

Jenna’s decided not to ask Link about you this time, deciding that you two do, in fact, need space for the time being.

She knows she should apologize for the way she acted all day, even all week. Jenna knows she was just projecting her unresolved feelings about you from Coachella and instead of just telling you that she’s been worried and just wants you to talk to her, to let her in. 

She decided to be petty and give into the heat of the moment, instead..

Jenna hopes the two of you can talk about it later tonight. But then she remembers the fact that you’re probably drinking, partying and doing god knows what else so that conversation and apology would probably have to wait until you’ve sobered up.

Standing, Jenna's decided she's had enough of wallowing in her own misery and walked over to the sink to wash her hands.

“Oh, hi!” A sweet-sounding higher pitched voice greeted her from behind after the sound of a door opening and heels clinking.

Immediately, she linked gazes with a certain Hailee Steinfeld through the mirror.

Jenna tried hard to school the surprise on her face.

“Hello…” Jenna smiled politely and glanced away, continuing to wash her hands.

“I’m Hailee…” The other woman greeted, sliding into the sink beside her, a pearly white smile on her full-pink lips.

“I’m Jenna, I would shake your hand but…” She gestured down to the running sink.

Hailee shook her head and laughed. “It’s okay, I’m glad to finally meet you! Can I just say how gorgeous you look! I thought your carpet look was amazing but this — you look stunning!”

“Oh! Uh— Thanks?” This time her surprise is hard to subdue. Feeling flushed under the weight of the other woman’s compliments.

She's never been great at accepting them. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you embarrassed,” Hailee smiled sheepishly. Her thick brows furrowing in her own embarrassment. 

The heat begins to crawl up her neck. “It’s okay! I— I appreciate it. You look gorgeous as well.” 

Taking the time to scan her, the younger actress has to crane her neck up to see Hailee’s face — it’s no wonder you ended up dating her. The woman is gorgeous. 

She tries to stave the green-eyed monster clawing at her chest at the thought of you two together because the woman standing across from her has been surprisingly pleasant.

“Please!” Hailee waves off, smiling softly, turning to wash her own hands.

Jenna allows the silence to take over the room, unsure of what to say next. After washing her hands, she turned off the sink and walked over to grab paper towels.

Hailee cuts in before she can think about it too hard.

“Hey,” The singer called out as Jenna was about to pick up her purse, “thank you... for looking out for her.”

“What?” Jenna turned, raising her brows in question.

Hailee sighed, leaning against the counter to face Jenna.

“I know Y/N’s not the… easiest. She tends to push people away. I think it’s just the way she’s always been. I’m not really sure. With the whole Vegas situation and these rumours going around about a possible arrest — which, you know, is bullshit, Y/N doesn’t do drugs — her first instinct would’ve been to run and push people away. But you’re still here… so something tells me you’re special.”

Jenna feels her heart drop at the other woman’s words. 

“Y/N can be reckless and cold at times, but I think it’s just an act," She continued; smile contorting sadly, “so she doesn’t actually have to open up to people… I’ve—uh, tried, so I kinda know.”

Jenna was stunned, unsure of what to say to that. Hailee made it sound like you were the one that got away or something. She also caught the openness that accompanied her tone, like the other woman had accepted the circumstances of the situation.

Like she just... let it be.

There wasn’t a lot of things Jenna was certain about but she knew she didn't want to feel that way about you, to just accept your coldness and inability to let people in.

“Anyways, she said you’ve kept her standing on her feet these last few months.” Hailee smiled softly, sincerity burning bright in her eyes. “So thank you, 'cause she deserves someone patient like you.” 

“Thank you…” Jenna finally managed to say despite the barbed wire feeling around her throat.

You really said that? Did you mean it?

If you did then she feels terrible.

“No, thank you, I was scared Link and Y/N were gonna grow old and still be living together. They’re weirdly co-dependent.” Hailee jokes, breaking the heaviness in the room.

Jenna couldn’t help the snort that leaves her mouth. 

And just like that, it felt like two friends enjoying an inside joke.

Jenna's laughter trails off before it turns to a heavy sigh as she grabs her purse. “So I should probably apologize to her, huh?”

The corner of Hailee's mouth tugs a small smug smile. “Depends on what she did… maybe let her sweat it out for a bit more then apologize.”

Jenna chuckled before nodding. “Noted… thank you, Hailee.”

Hailee nods, smiling softly as Jenna turned to walk out of the bathroom.

A surprisingly pleasant feeling appeared in her chest the farther she walked away.  

She felt a bit lighter after that conversation, which is a shock considering she just talked to your ex-girlfriend. For a moment, Jenna felt guilty for her earlier reservations about the other woman. Not wanting to admit that she had let her jealousy cloud her judgment of character.

Hailee had nothing but great things to say about her — and you for that matter. A testament to how, despite your hot and cold demeanour, there’s someone worth knowing underneath.

Ugh. She hated it when she was wrong.

But there was also that nagging echo in her head that had to admit that she was glad she was wrong about you.

I’m sorry for what I said. Can I come see you? Are you still at the other after-party?

Swallowing her pride, she hit send then walked back to the party to find Enrique, hoping she can distract herself as she waits for your reply.

20 minutes go by without a response and Jenna doesn’t know if she should start feeling annoyed or worried; the line between the two is thinning by the second, she concluded. She decided she leaned more on the latter and stepped away from the party once again. Roaming the halls before stepping out onto a secluded balcony; grateful for the warm night in the early May month. 

Pulling out her phone from her clutch, she called Link immediately, knowing that if anyone knew your whereabouts it’d be him.

“Hello?” Link answered breathlessly and in the background, the actress can hear sounds of traffic and people talking over one another.

“Link? Can you hear me?” Jenna spoke into the lonely night air.

“Yeah— yeah, sorry.” It sounded like Link walked away from the noise because when he spoke again, it sounded much clearer. But she immediately noted the urgency in his voice. “Hey.”

“Hey, I texted Y/N 20 minutes ago but she didn’t respond, is everything okay?” Jenna got to the point, chewing her lip.

“Shit—“ Link cursed. “Uh, about that.”

“Link, what does that mean?” Jenna felt every muscle in her body tense at his words, like before a big drop on a rollercoaster.

“We can’t find her.” Link confessed. 

Jenna’s stomach dropped. Yeah, except that rollercoaster has just derailed.

“What do you mean you can’t find her?” 

“We lost her. She said she was going to the bathroom but she never came back.” He recounted nervously.

“What—“ Jenna was dumbfounded, mind on overdrive as a sudden wave of coldness washed over her body as she processes what she’s just been told.

You're missing.

No one knows where you are.

“Are you looking for her now?” Jenna manages to ask, gripping the balcony railing for support. She thinks she feels a little light-headed but she pushes that thought away because you are more important, right now.

“Yes, of course. We checked everywhere. But uh—it’s been almost two hours since anyone’s seen her…” Link hesitated before confessing.

The last thing they need is for Jenna to start freaking out too.

Jenna’s stomach dropped again. This time she feels like she’s been launched off the rollercoaster entirely and is free-falling mid-air.

“Hey, hey, it’ll be okay. She does this, it’s kinda her thing. We’ll find her soon. Don’t worry.” Link reassured after Jenna doesn’t respond.

“When was the last time that she did this, Link?” Jenna asked shakily.

A beat passed before the man answered. “Vegas…”

“Shit…” They said in unison.

“What—what do we do?” Jenna asked.

“Just keep texting and calling her. I’m out looking for her right now, I have her entire security team with me.” He reassured her once again but she can still hear the trepidation in his tone.

“Okay…” Jenna trails off, not really sure if she’s actually listening at this point.

“Jenna— we’ll find her, don’t worry.” Link said with certainty but it didn’t ease the anxiety in her chest.

“I know…” Jenna mumbled, grasping her phone with a mighty grip and forced herself to take a calming breath. “Okay, okay. I’ll start calling her. Maybe I should go back to her room, in case she comes back?”

“Yeah, that’s a great idea, keep me updated Jen.” 

“I will.”

The line goes dead as Link hangs up.

“Shit.” Even with Jenna’s trembling fingers, she contacted your number with haste.

But the call never even rang. 

***

It’s past 2 AM and no one has still heard from you. 

She had left you a total of 26 missed calls and almost 50 text messages. That’s not even counting the ones she’s sent you through Enrique’s phone.

At this point, Jenna was ready to go to the police but Link advised her that they wouldn’t be able to do anything because it hasn’t been 24 hours yet. Your closest confidant also warned her of adding fuel to the fire with the press if headlines that you're missing are released.

The actress feels an excruciatingly sharp pain forming in between her brows; the early stages of a migraine, the longer she paced around your room.

“Where is she, Link?” She chewed on the bottom lip, anxiously. “What if something bad happened? She doesn’t have security with her...”

“Her whole team has been driving around the city looking for her but we already checked the other after-parties and she wasn’t there. I hate to say it, Jenna, but if Y/N doesn’t want to be found, you won’t.” Link sat down on the couch in the living room.

The wrinkled exhaustion and worry were clear as day on his face. Jenna sighed, sitting down beside him. “I know you tried your best. Thank you for looking…”

“Yeah… of course. How are you though?” He turned, scanning her equally exhausted features. 

“I feel terrible if I had just tabled it like she said–”

“Hey–” Link cuts in, shaking his head. “Don’t. Y/N’s gonna do whatever she wants, you can’t put this one on you.” 

Jenna nods unconvincingly, slumping against her seat. “What about you? How are you?”

He stared off, deep in thought. “She’s like my sister, you know. We didn’t have it easy growing up. I know she’s— stand-offish and hard to get along with at times…”

Jenna turned to face him at his sudden confession, deciding to stay silent.

“You can’t even imagine how many times I’ve tried to quit being her assistant.” Link chuckled, looking up at the ceiling. “But I could never really do it. ‘Cause even though she has these massive walls around herself and that annoying-ass nonchalant attitude. I know sometimes this job is a lot… even for her.”

Jenna huffed, slouching back into the soft couch, trying to be understanding. “I know… trust me I know the job, we all do–”

Link shakes his head. “You don’t. Not her story at least…”

Snapping her head to the side, she watches the assistant’s side profile, noting the deep wrinkle on his forehead. “What does that mean?”

She couldn’t help but ask.

He sighed, “It’s not my place to say but Y/N's been through some stuff. Stuff that you wouldn't wish on anyone.”

“What?”

He sighed again, debating if he should open the can of worms. “At the time, I was living with my grandmother. She’s the only family I have left, it’s probably why I can’t let go of Y/N too. The money I make from working with her, I send to take care of my nan… But even with all that, Y/N was dealing with her mom.”

“She told me she was controlling or something — wanted more money?” Jenna scrunched her nose in disgust at how someone can treat their own flesh and blood like that.

“She wasn’t just controlling, Jenna… she tried to sue Y/N over it. She tried to take away her right to make decisions over her own career and when that didn’t work she tried to get her to quit the industry."

Jenna’s stomach dropped. “What?”

Linked nodded, watching Jenna’s stunned reaction. “Yeah… Jake and Liv fought against it. It never turned into a legal case, thank god. The judge dismissed her claims but it really fucked with her head you know. That her own mother could do that to her."

Jenna stared off into nothing as she processed his words.

No wonder you’re so closed off and scared to let people in. She felt sick to her stomach thinking about what you’ve gone through and how, even despite all of that, you still managed to stay standing on your own two feet and carry on as if nothing happened.

She wonders how long it’s been since you’ve really let anyone in.

“I knew she’d been dealing with things… these last few months. She had a packed year last year and her schedule was only getting busier. She never outwardly said it was becoming too much but I could see it. It started small; missing texts, calls, alarms… then she wouldn’t come home cause she was partying all night… it got too much. I think that singer and his friends were taking advantage of her fame but she always brushed me off whenever I said something. We even got into a big fight before Vegas so I stayed with a friend for a couple of days to cool off.”

“Link…” Jenna trailed off, she heard the guilty tone accompanied by his words. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“No… I know. Y/N’s going to do what she wants, I’ve learned to accept it. It still doesn’t make me feel any better that she’s in this situation and that I could’ve done something to prevent it.”

Link cleared his throat, sitting up a bit. “Just saying… from Y/N’s person to the other – I get what you’re feeling. She’s definitely not the easiest but I don’t know… when she shows she cares, you know she means it.”

“You think I’m Y/N’s person?” Jenna asked shocked. “We barely know each other.”

Link rolled his eyes, sending her a flat look. “Yeah ‘cause you two communicate through silent looks and then don’t talk about your feelings. If you guys fix your shit then maybe you can be her person too.” 

Jenna opened her mouth for a rebuttal but the sound of something smacking against the wall interrupted her.

Immediately, the assistant and actress spring up, walking spritely to the foyer. When they round the corner, Jenna is torn between feeling relieved or furious.

They spot you, slumped against the wall nearly slipping on your own two feet, piss-fucking-drunk as you dropped the keycard to the floor.

“Are you fucking serious right now?” Link scoffed but briskly walked over to help you up, throwing your arm over his shoulder. "What the hell happened to you?"

“Sorry for being a disappointment, Dad.” You mumbled as Link dragged you down the hallway. Eyes barely opened and even then, Jenna can see the alcohol-muddled haze through your slow blinks. 

“What the fuck, Y/N?” Jenna echoed as she watched how you had to be carried, too drunk to do it yourself. 

It scared her, this was not a version of you that she liked. 

She doesn’t want to listen to that small voice in her head again, the one that’s saying you’re bad news. You’re a party animal, this is what you do. You’re reckless. But the other part of her wants to give you a chance to explain yourself, especially after what Link just told her – it’s hard to keep that sentiment when you act like this though.

“Oh hey, Jenna.” You waved as if nothing is wrong, toothy smile on your lips. “I tried looking for you at the party… then I realized we fought and that’s why you weren’t with me. Are you still mad at me?”

Jenna didn’t know what to say so she kept quiet and followed Link as he lead you to the bedroom, nearly throwing you onto the mattress. 

“Fuck, Y/N. You can’t keep doing this.” Link sighed out, taking a few steps back from the bed to scan you. 

“Who’s gonna stop me?” You snorted, sitting up to tug your shoes off, chucking them without care.

“Dude, for real? We spent nearly four hours looking for your ass. Do you realize what kind of trouble you could’ve gotten into if–” 

“–yeah, yeah,” You wave off and Jenna can see Link’s eye twitching and jaw clenching in anger. He knew better than to fight with a drunk person. Especially if that person is you. 

He lets out a deep breath, then turned to younger actress, “I can’t be around her right now. I’m sorry.” 

Then he walked away, slamming the door loudly behind him making Jenna flinch. A few seconds of silence pass without a single movement.

“What are you still doing here?” You asked in a snipped tone, breaking the quietude. Jenna doesn’t know if she should feel offended. 

Crossing her arms, she scans your dishevelled attire. Your tie is loose, buttons are undone, and dress shirt is half-tucked – in short, you looked like a hot mess. “I’ve been calling you all night, where have you been?”

“Phone died.” You yanked your blazer off, throwing it on the floor, “and out… drinking.”

“With who? By yourself or with someone?” Jenna asked, walking closer, and helping you take off your tie.

“Doesn’t matter..” You grumbled as she helped you, looking at a spot on the wall and Jenna clenched her jaw cause you were closing up again.

“Well, it matters to me,” She yanked the tie off your neck.

“Why?” You looked up at her.

“What?”

“Why do you care so much? I thought this was all just for the press?” You pushed off the bed, wobbling on your feet. Jenna took a few steps back but kept close, in case you needed help but you shrugged her attempts away.

She tried not to take it personally.

Jenna called after you but you ignored her and just stumbled to the bathroom. She trails behind, still keeping a close eye.

“No, seriously. You kiss me and let me stay with your family and then you shut me down? What kind of fucked up shit is that?” You spoke up, venom laced in your words.

Jenna knows it’s the alcohol talking. But drunk words, sober thoughts?

“Well guess what? Fuck that. I may be closed off but at least I don’t lead people on.” You seethe, stopping in your tracks to spin around and face her.

The anger in your eyes is not an emotion she had seen before. This was different than your other petty disputes and arguments. You meant it.

Jenna blinked, shaking her head furiously, “What? No! That’s not what I’m doing.”

“I don’t care! I’m over it. If you wanna believe the press over me like everyone else, go ahead. I’m fucking used to it.” You grumbled, turning away to keep walking but this time Jenna grabbed your elbow, stopping you.

“Can you just stop for a second and let me explain!” But you yanked back like you’ve been burned and Jenna thinks she can physically feel her heart splitting down the middle. 

“No, fuck that!” You yelled before taking a deep breath, using Jenna's stunned silence as a chance to keep talking. You looked deeply into her eyes and said the next words with pure conviction. ”I’m sick of trusting people and letting them in just to be fucking burned over and over again — After the Met Gala, I’ll go to Jake and Liv and tell them this is over. Next week, it’ll be three months anyway. Then, we’ll never have to see each other again.” 

There was no slurring in your voice or wobble in your stance as you said those words.

Jenna blinked back the tears forming in her eyes, clenching her jaw. Not recognizing this version of you standing across from her.

This isn’t the same person that treated her family kindly and won over their hearts.

This isn’t the same person that won over her heart.

So, she listened.

“Okay….” Jenna nodded weakly, then turned walking out of your room not being able to look into your eyes.

She missed the instant regret in them as you tracked her disappearing figure.

***

i told y’all this slow burn would be slowwwww.

***

taglist is closed

@alexkolax @ladey @jjsmaybank20 @werewoofrobinbuckley @chealsib @fanboy7794 @la-douleur-ne-finit-jamais @zelload @natashadeservedmore @orang3-ish @friedryes @nahnahnahwhat @be-missed @jjuncidio @oksana-moods @theirishmanronan @r-ude @wokethefuxkup @skate-to-breathee @user173781 @frasersgf @justafoolinlove @bring-mecoffee @haughtsauce21 @wheesunsangel @omega-horus @selluequestrian @justalittledissociation @imaloserbby @catswag22 @smjmgko @acutenobody @raven-ss @canceldevvi @sweetaimu @rockwyn @rwndsana @cheesybacon123 @cvluswnt @secretbackrooms @vixen1006 @zhasmindoesntknow @ulicebld @rozmrazaradelfinow @icarly23 @cartierdreamx @thenextdawn @annalestern @noooodlessstuff @vstblrblog @godsfavouritelesbiann

***

[minhosimthings]

Backstage Notoriety

Synopsis: Chan trying to shush you, as you try not to alert the rest of the boys about what you're doing backstage

Pairings: Bang Chan × Soloist!fem!reader

Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, fingering, overstimulation, Degradation (like only a little), praise, gagging kink, necklace is used as a gag, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), pregnancy joke, angry sex, rough sex

A/N: ITS YO GIRL MONA BACK WITH ANOTHER SMUT YALL WOOOHOOOOO I really like this for some reason I had fun writing it. Also Chan has got me in a chokehold rn I NEED THIS MAN TO BREED ME. And yes this is me procrastinating on my ongoing wip.

Dating a fellow idol was something you never thought you'd do in your entire life but here you were. Staring at your boyfriend dancing with the rest of his kids members and watching all his Stays with bedroom eyes. To say you were jealous was an understatement. A very great understatement, that is.

Being a soloist was a lonely job, with the one exception being that you didn't need to follow a packed schedule like other groups did. You could just sit back after your stage, and stare at everyone's outfits backstage, as you wait for your boyfriend to take you home and fuck you into oblivion. Yet as you watched your boyfriend show off his waist in a crop top your favourite colour, you couldn't help but want him to notice you. Stupid horny teenager coded feelings right?

"Haneul how much time till they finish?" You asked your manager who was packing up your things. She looked over at you and smiled. "Just another minute or so Y/N be patient you'll see him soon enough." She bent down and kissed your head "I'm going home alright? Tell Minho where I went or he'll go crazy. You'll come with Chan or should I tell a car to wait?" You shook your head at her. "I'll come with him don't worry. You should worry about Minho though he's gonna go mental when he finds out you left without him." Haneul let out a laugh and patted your shoulder before quickly walking out the door, leaving you all alone.

The sound of thunderous applause startled you, as you saw your boyfriend quickly walking down the stage, seven kids following him like penguins. The first one to enter the room was your boyfriend, suprisingly not covered in sweat and fashioning a towel round his neck. His face was not without happiness as he caught his eye on you and strode over, making adorable grabby hands.

"Baby!" he hugged you tightly, as you did everything in your power to stay mad at him, "Next time I'll make sure they arrange our shows right after one another. I can't stand not being with you for so long." "hmm" you hummed in response, not reciprocating the hug as you usually did. The rest of the members had entered the room by then and you spotted Minho frantically searching for his phone. "Haneul went home Minho." you cried at him, successfully catching his attention as he looked at you with widened eyes, "Don't worry, she's probably waiting for you."

"Oh alright." Minho said, plopping down onto the sofa, "Thanks for the message." You smiled gently at him, and turned to pick up your phone, when warm arms wrapped around your waist, making you freeze in your spot. The offer to sink into Chan's embrace was a tempting one, one that would effectively ruin your plan. "Did I do something wrong baby?" you heard Chan's voice whisper in your ear, tone akin to one he'd use for a child. You were being childish after all.

"Just tired Chan. I need to get home alright?", you briefly responded, wiggling away from his embrace. "I'll drop you off to the car." Chan responded, wrapping an arm around your waist so tightly that you couldn't protest, "I left something in my dressing room anyway so we can just get that on the way hm?" His tone worried you slightly. It was unlike the lovey-dovey one he usually used with you. Lovey? yes. Dovey? Definitely not.

The silence between you and Chan was too loud as both of you walked to Chan's dressing room, which was relatively near the exit point. His stare remained in front of him, not even a glance at you. You, on the other head, were trapped in his hold on your waist. It was tight. Too tight. The Pain kink comes in handy though right?.

"You really thought ignoring me would do anything baby?" Chan suddenly spoke up, when you reached the door to his dressing room. You shuddered as he pushed you against the door, one hand on the doorknob, the other holding your chin to him. "Chan-" "Nuh uh baby." He glared, "You're gonna pay for this."

Chan bombarded your lips with his and kissed you with every inch of pain in him. You would have melted into the kiss had it not been for Chan opening the doorknob and pushing you in.

"Wearing this cute little outfit and ignoring me." Chan mumbled in between the messy kiss, "Stupid little girl aren't you?" You gasped for air as Chan slid his fingers down your panties. You decided to give your stylist a bag of chocolates the next day, for giving you such an accessible dress.

"Ah Chan!" You shout out as Chan moves his fingers around your pussy, touching you exactly at all the spots he knew you adored. Chan slowly pulled off your underwear and threw it on the floor before pulling you into another kiss, fingers still racing across your cunt. His other hand reached up almost automatically to your hair, gripping it hard. You moaned into the kiss at his touch on your scalp as your hands quickly undid his trousers.

He’s rough. Good god, he’s fucking rough. His cock stretches you open deliciously, slamming into the deepest parts of you. The slick sounds of your dripping arousal fill the room with every violent thrust. You were sure your already short dress was about to get shorter as Chan kept such a firm grip on them, feeling the fabric twisting in between his fingers. With Chan continuing to fuck you, It’s almost impossible to keep yourself quiet at a time like this.

“J-Jesus,” you gasp, “holy fuck, Channie, y-you, fuck, you feel so fucking hot.” Your voice wavers in pitch and volume. Chan maintains a brutal pace, which you could swear he does on purpose. He lets out a gruff chuckle.

"It's Channie now is it baby?" He mocks you, "Fucking you so good you can't even speak can you?"

You let out a loud yelp when you feel his hand give your ass a hard slap. You jerk forward, shuddering on his cock. You can feel his towering frame lean over you, pulling you up by the shoulders, gathering you to his chest. He puts his fingers in your mouth, silencing your cries of lust.

You suck on his fingers, moans bubbling in your throat as Chan pistons his hips. It’s almost embarrassing how much you like the feeling of Chan using you like his personal doll.

“Babe,” Chan slows down. “As much as I love hearing what I do to you…” he gently maneuvers you, flipping you to look into your eyes. His hand tucks a piece of hair the fell onto your face behind your ear. His hand cups your cheek, the sweetness of his actions causes your mind to run wild with what kind of degenerate, devious plans he has in store for you. He reaches over to his neck and slowly unclasped the metal chain decorating it ever so wonderfully. "You're way too loud darling.”

"Open your mouth for me darling." He cooes at you as he shoves the necklace into your mouth. You wince in pain as the cold metal hits your tongue. Chan stares at you with an amused look on his face. "That's my good girl." He praises, giving a sudden thrust, which makes you widen your eyes.

You make a muffled cry for more, your soft and loud moans were music to his ears. He breathed heavily along with you as held onto your hips tightly. Skin smacking echoed in the room and you heard his soft groan which sent you coming. He groans louder as you clench around him.

Thankfully, Chan didn’t argue or get you to beg for his cock any more as he jolted his hips into you. “Always so loud aren't you darling?”, he scolded light-heartedly under his breath.

“Cha- Channie no more,” you plead with the necklace muffling your tone, tossing your head back onto the wall, hips bucking up into his despite your words. Chan growls, pushing you down by your stomach and blanketing your body with his own and pressing your knees almost up to your tits.

“You can take it, my dove, I promise,” the words come out choked, hoarse, but you wither under them nonetheless. The necklace had been laying down on the floor, having been detached from your mouth a long time ago. You can feel his cock pulsing deep inside your walls, seed almost spilling out from your entrance from his last two orgasms. You’re sure he’s overstimulated beyond belief, just like you, but he just can’t seem to stop.

“Wait, don’t cum yet; I’m so close, don’t cum”, you begged , not entirely wanting it to end just yet. Chan gasped, his mouth opening wide as his eyes did the opposite as they clenched shut as he concentrated on fucking you and not having another orgasm.

It doesn’t take long to feel the first flutterings of that eye-wateringly beautiful sensation between your legs as you quickly stammer, “I’m cumming! Fuck!”. Chan’s legs nearly gave out underneath him, hearing your sweet words.

As your pussy contracted in wet bursts around him, Chan released every drop of cum inside of his body, deep into your walls so that you could feel yourself becoming full and it beginning to drip out as it became too much. His thrusts slowed to a stop as you both slumped against the wall, bodies covered in a thin line of sweat.

"You alright honey?" He mumbled into your neck as he holds you tightly in his arms. "I'm good." You simply respond, cradling in Chan's warm muscles. Chan quickly deposits your weak figure on the divan before rushing off to find a towel and a change of clothes.

"I'm sorry Channie." You mumble, feeling your face turn red as Chan puts your shoes back on. He looks up at you with an amused expression and hums. "It's alright darling." He chuckles, "My jealous little baby." You slap his arm playfully as he gets you up slowly and walks you to the door, this time the grip on your waist being a comforting one.

"I wonder if your cum took or not." You blurt out. Chan looks at you with widened eyes before giggling. "You wouldn't really have to get used to being called mom do you? What with your seven adopted kids." "Our seven adopted kids." You correct him as he blushes and kisses you on the forehead.

"Seven kids who are probably wondering what their mom and dad have been doing backstage."

[highlynerdy]

"I do it because I want to protect him from the world, and sometimes from myself. I want to tell him every secret I ever had, and yet I never want to make him choose, to see the hurt in his eyes, to put this, too, on him. I want-I want so many things. Sometimes, I just want."

Turning The Page by @queerofthedagger / art by @schweetheart

I started this fanARTifact in July 2021 and finally, finally finished it in September 2024. Click below to see so many more pictures and read probably too much about the project.

This project was a LABOR OF LOVE because y'all...I failed so, so many times during the making of it. I had grand dreams of all the things that I was going to do and learn and every single time I tried something it was like the universe telling me to go ahead and go fuck myself, we're not doing that. But it's done and I'm pleased with it. I hope Mona and Schweets are. Let's talk about the process.

I read this story back in July 2021 when it came out and immediately wrote @schweetheart on July 23, 2021 to ask if I could use her art for the back because it was such a crucial part of the story.

She graciously allowed me to use it, and even sent me a high res file so I could have the portrait of Arthur printed on art paper.

THEN. My brilliantly stupid self decided that just making the book wasn't enough. I mean, I had already done that for Arthur's journal back in 2020 and I am nothing if not a nutter about learning to do new things, especially for my fanARTifact series.

SO. I'm going to learn to make paper. Yeah. Totally a reasonable escalation in terms of new skills, right?? ......... Nope. I bought a small 5x7 mould and deckle to practice with and some cotton linters to make the pulp. Twas. A. Failure. I didn't have a press or the felts or the sizing needed to make the paper actually, ya know, usable. This was the first time I put the project down for a while.

Moving on to another new skill in late 2021, I decided that I wanted to make the walnut ink myself. Luckily, I was part of a pigment subscription in 2020 (that is a hell of a nerdy statement, even for me) and had all the supplies in my art studio to attempt this endeavor.

I didn't fail this part! Fucking huzzah for small miracles. Now I had two small bottles of black walnut ink to use for the calligraphy that I wanted to do for some of the excerpts. Except now I was stuck again on the paper making part so I put it back down again for an eternity.

Picking it back up in late 2022, I asked Mr. Highlynerdy to make a custom size mould and deckle for me so I could have long pieces to fold for my signatures. It was his first time doing anything like this but he's a buddy and a pal and gave it a try. Surprising no one if you've read this far, we both failed this part. Even now, I'm still not sure we succeeded but eventually we did get something workable. And considering professional mould and deckles cost in the hundreds of dollars...yeah, it'll do.

It took a hot ass minute for me to feel ready to attempt the paper making again but once I was ready, I ordered wet, pre-beaten pulp from Twinrocker. A very curt man on the phone helped me figure out what I needed and added internal sizing to the pulp I ordered. I didn't take pictures of any of the paper stuff because it was very messy and annoying. Once again, Mr. Highlynerdy helped me rig up a drying box with tri-wall cardboard and ratchet straps and a box fan. Once the paper was dry, I used a gelatin mixture to paint on external sizing. Since I'm primarily a painter, I needed the paper to be able to handle ink, paint, pencil. Sizing paper is the only way to do this, but no worries, I won't go further into the nerdy details about this.

Once the paper was ready, I decided to sew the text block. Here's another part where I failed YET A-FUCKING-GAIN. I talked before on Arthur's Journal post about how books were very, very rare in the 6th century (Arthurian period), but BBC Merlin is soooooo anachronistic that it's fiiiiiine to just do what I wanted. HOWEVER. I did want to try to do visible spine binding. But. Unfortunately I had gone ahead and used all of my paper to bind the text block as if I was going to case it in. FUUUUUUUCCCCCK. It's fine. We're fine. Come on, brain. What can we do.

Well, what we CAN'T do is use a piece of leather from my large remnant that I bought for my first journal because someone - FUCKING ME - measured and cut the last piece NOT TAKING INTO ACCOUNT THE WIDTH of the text block. So now it doesn't fit. And refusing to buy a new piece of leather I'm forced to pivot once again.

I decided to cut the leather spine even shorter, buy some wood pieces and sand them, paint them a matte black, and then glue the leather to those pieces. Cool cool cool. We're moving on. I tested a lot of different glues for this and good ol' super glue ended up being the clear winner. Cue putting this project away again for a whiiiillle.

In October 2023, I decided to pull it out again and do the calligraphy and drawings I wanted. This story has so many gorgeous parts but I finally decided on the first page, the last page, and the page about Gaius.

I mixed my handmade walnut ink with my beloved Finetec gold and used the quills I bought from John Neal Booksellers to practice my Uncial. I shouldn't have been rusty after lettering an entire fic for this fanARTifact, but I was.

The little dragon was inspired by medieval manuscript dragons I found.

Narratively, I loved the idea that Merlin's writing would start off soft and delicate and become stronger by the end of the journal. Also, I loved that the end word "WANT" would be just gold because the ink blend changes throughout. Something magical or whatever.

This part needed tears. They might have been real ones...

Annnnnnnnd, the project was put down again until a few days ago when I decided, after getting back into Merlin fic, I needed to buck up and finish it.

I did so many tests for the cover. I tried embossing, carving, and debossing and hated all of them. I settled on painting it with acrylic paints in the shape of a Celtic knot sort of pattern. I originally wanted to do a triskelion but after reading a bit about how some asshole groups have co-opted the symbol for shitty purposes, I decided against it. It's a mix of black and gold and it's hard to capture the depth of it through photos...eh, I did what I could.

Still. Something wasn't quite working with the brown leather and the black covers with the new symbol so I broke out my matte black leather paint and decided to go all black.

All I had left to do was glue in the text block and it would be done! And that still took me a few days to work up the courage. The book opens nice and flat, which will be good for me as I will use it as a sketchbook.

Sitting here, on September 1st, I have completed a project that taught me many new skills and also taught me a lot about humility and perseverance. There was no way I was going to abandon this project, and maybe I should have started over many of the times, but I am quite in love with the final result and I just hope that it does it's inspiration proud. Thank you @queerofthedagger Mona for all you create and share with the Merlin fandom, and thank you @schweetheart for allowing me to use your gorgeous art.

Also, you may see quite a few other fanARTifacts in this photoshoot because I will use any opportunity to show them off lol.

If you read to the end of this, you deserve a cocktail and a cookie. Thank you. 💛✨✨

[senanatheskenana]

Genshin Characters’ Voice line About you

Jean

"Oh (y/n)? They're wonderful! They just work so hard, and they're so compassionate... It almost makes me want to work even harder with how much they do to help me!... What?? Of course, I wouldn't have a crush- feelings for them! It-It would be completely unprofessional to feel something like that for a fellow knight!"

Amber

"So you've heard of them too... I'm not surprised, they're just so cool that I'm surprised they dont have as big a fan club as Barbara. I guess if they had a fan club, you could say that I'm the founder of it!"

Lisa

"Such a cutie- we've known each other since our days in the Akademiya. They were just as formidable then. Hm?  If you're insinuating that I liked them back then- or now- well, that's, unfortunately for you, none of your business, traveller."

Kaeya

"I've asked them countless times to the tavern but every time they refuse- say, I dont suppose you could perhaps convince them to meet me somewhere? Every time I do it they play hard to get- they call me a flirt. Oh? You think that I should ask them to go somewhere more romantic? Hmm, I'll think about it, but while I'm doing that you ask them first. There might be a reward in it for you~"

Diluc

"W-What? No, I dont really know all that much about them. I hardly ever talk to them, so of course, I wouldn't know that. I'm not being defensive, that's ridiculous- the idea- no! I... Is this- Has Kaeya been telling you that I like them? N-No? Oh. You didn't even ask about that... I have something I must do- Goodbye, traveller."

Venti

"Ah yes, (y/n). The single most perfect thing in Mondstadt- if not Teyvat... And perhaps the only thing I can't write a song about. It's just not possible to write something that lives up to them in person. It's like drawing air, you just can't do it"

Mona

"When I first met them, it took me by surprise. I hadn't seen it. Perhaps it was better that way because I could experience it all like fate wanted me to."

Albedo

"I sometimes find myself drawing them without realising. I dont know why but even during experiments I sometimes get distracted by thoughts of them. I've made plans to see them, to try and pinpoint why these things are occurring."

Rosaria

"They're just as irritating as you- not leaving me be, following me around like a puppy... Well yes, I suppose it would be strange not having them around. And it is sort of sweet that they keep trying. Dont get any ideas, it's just that"

Eula

"Proper procedure would dictate that I begin our courtship with perhaps a bouquet or an offer of attending a social function together. Do you think that they'd prefer red or yellow roses? "

Xiao

"Why are you asking me about... them. I-I don't know much about them, I wouldn't put them in danger like that. The closest I could ever hope to get to them is always too far for them to see me. Don't be stupid, an Adeptus and a mortal could never hope to live together happily, it will always end in regret and grief."

Beidou

"When we get ready to dock, I climb into the crows' nest and can you guess what the first thing I look for is? Bingo! I could spot them from a mile away even in the fog because my heart recognises them before my eyes and tells me every time"

Ningguang

"I have a  certain Qixing member I dine at Wanmin Restaurant with- all professional of course... Most of the time. You can't expect me to be a businesswoman all the time can you?"

Tartaglia

"Back in Snezhnaya, I have a childhood best friend. I also have a lover. I'm fortunate enough that they happen to be the same person. Why are you so curious about this? Are you surprised that someone can love a war machine like me? Or is it the other way around? Trust me, if you met them you'd understand how easy it is to fall in love"

Zhongli

"I haven't felt like this in hundreds of years. Every time I see them, I feel the memories crashing back and I see the future through their eyes. I sometimes feel terrified of getting close because I know they will one day pass on too. But I also remember that if I dont the only thing that changes is my happiness. "

Ganyu

"Am I really that obvious? Do... Do they know that I feel this way? Oh, so it's only you that realised- whew, that saves me a little embarrassment "

Hu Tao

"Every attempt I make to ask them out, it always ends in them backing away. Should I start asking them to go somewhere instead of coffin picking?"

Shenhe

"Of the people I've met, only one other do I remember as much as you. (Y/N) would pick herbs on the mountains and I would watch from the bottom to catch them if they fell. Sometimes I wish they would be a little more clumsy"

Yelan

"I guess you could say I know them. Pretty... Intimately if I do say so. I didn't imply anything, you're just inferring things, traveller haha~"

Ayaka

"We first met at a clan function and we hit it off right away! We would sit around the teapot and pour each other tea and pretend to be an old married couple. I suppose we still do now, but we dont have to pretend anymore"

Kazuha

"The thing I regret most about leaving my home behind is... (Y/N). There hasn't been a day where I haven't whispered 'i love you' into the wind in hopes it might one day reach them. I haven't forgotten them and I only hope they haven't forgotten me. No- it's selfish to hope that they wouldn't move on after so long."

Yoimiya

"My favourite part of fireworks shows is when (Y/N) runs over to tell me how beautiful they were. I'd throw a show every night if they were watching it each time!"

Ei

"I... I seldom find comfort in the company of mortals. I dont often find comfort in anyone's company. But I suppose if I had to look back, the one thing that really does bring me peace and happiness is (Y/N). Perhaps, this is a story best left untold for now, Traveller"

Kujo Sara

"My strict schedule hardly permits my free time. What little time I do find I usually spend escorting the shrine attendant (Y/N) around the island. 'Below my salary' you say? It's not that. I just quite enjoy being around them. Please keep this confidential... "

Kokomi

"Ah, speaking of (Y/N) could you please deliver this letter to them? I'd love to do it in person but I'm extremely busy. Thank you so much! Just dont read its contents, they are strictly for their eyes only. Strategies? Wha- oh yes! That's it. Off you go now"

Thoma

"Nervous? I-I look nervous. I... I guess I'm a little nervous to see (Y/N) again. It seems that every time I see them I get a little more schoolboyish, and I feel my face flare up. Oh, they're coming! Does my shirt have creases in it? Good!"

Itto

"How does my hair look? And my horns? What about my- What do you mean I'm panicking? Nah, I'm just trying to make sure that I impress them. An oni's got to look his best when they meet someone like (Y/N) after all"

Gorou

"Have-Have you seen (Y/N) recently? No! You dont need to go and find them, I was just wondering. I think I might have upset them... I didn't mean to but I panicked. They got a new outfit and I got really nervous because they looked so... I could feel my tail wagging and I didn't want to embarrass myself- so I ran. God, I'm such a coward. "

Yae Miko

"They're quite cute to tease, hehe~ It's so easy to make them blush and I just can't help myself when I get the chance to fluster them."

Ayato

"When Ayaka first introduced us, I was worried that they might be intimidated... But I'd trust that's not the case considering that we now share a bedroom. I have a feeling that Ayaka knew what she was doing, haha"

Tighnari

"I know I tend to ramble on and on about plants- but they said that they like it. (Y/N) says that out of anyone, they would want to listen to me do it... What? N-no, I dont think that they like me- well yes they like me- what I mean is love- I mean that would be quite nice but- oh, I'm doing it again."

Cyno

"I dont tend to get along with Scholars, more often than not I end up frustrated with their pride and arrogance. Of course, there are exceptions. Tighnari and (Y/N) are amongst the only people associated with the Akademiya that I could call...Lo... F-Friends."

Candace

"I protect Auru Village so of course, that means (Y/N). They are probably the one I keep an eye on most. I just like to make sure they are always safe. When someone encounters a rarity in the desert, they protect it with all their heart."

Nilou

"I'll never forget our first dance... it was wonderful. I was so caught up in the movement that when I stopped spinning my head kept going and I got dizzy- but the first thing I saw clearly was them. For the first time, I tripped over my feet, oh I was so embarrassed! When the crowds finally dispersed, they remained and we ended up waltzing into the night."

Scaramouche

"Dont be stupid. I dont have any sort of emotion for that mortal. They're just another annoying human. They're tenacious I'll give them that, always trying to talk to me. It's like they're asking me to hurt them... What do you mean you think I'm scared? Of what? Why... No, i dont get scared of feelings- I-I just dont have them for them!"

[i-need-a-slurpee]

My best friend and I came up with a stupid little concept for our silly little "akechi lives don't ask how though" persona 5 AU

So you know how middle school and high schoolers use codenames with their best friends to talk about other people in public. Like referring to someone's crush as "pineapple" we were thinking that akira does that but since they already have codenames he just switches everyone's codenames down one in order of who joined. We used a whiteboard to illustrate what kind of shenanigans could ensue

I'm gonna write down everything that was on the board in case it's difficult to understand when looking at the picture

A key to all the symbols

-> are Akechi's thoughts

On its own are things that are said

Codenames: Akira - Violet, Ryuji - Joker, Morgana - Skull, Ann - Mona, Yusuke- Panther, Makoto - Fox, Futaba - Queen, Haru - Oracle, Akechi - Noir, Sumi - Crow. The only people who know and understand the codename switch are Ann, Akira and Ryuji and they use it to gossip

The fun begins when we decided to torture Akechi by having him accidently overhear almost every conversation where these confusing nicknames are used.

Akechi overhears:

Akira: omg Noir is so cute

-> cries and calls Ann

[This is the phone call Akechi has with Ann, which is labeled with 3 on the whiteboard:

Akechi: heyyy Ann so funny story um does Akira like...yknow...like Noir? Haru?

Ann, knowing the truth and thinking this is the funniest thing ever: omg yea girl he totally for real likes Noir

Akechi, wanting to die a lil bit: haha cool thats great thx bye]

"Queen is gonna ask out Crow"

-> gag, ew, distance from Makoto bc omg WHY

"Fox and Oracle are dating"

-> ?? I thought Oracle was a lesbian??

"Shujin is gonna fall apart now that Fox left"

-> he went?? to Kosei?? hello??

Akira: "Skull is so heavy T^T like he decides fo sleep right on my ribs it hurts"

-> ?????

Akira: "so yea I'm gonna ask Noir to go to the jazz club tonight, since it's like, our place, yknow"

-> WHAT THE FUCK.

-> (gets a text from akira to go to the jazz club 2 minutes later)

4. Akechi rants to sumi about it cause he doesn't trust ann anymore

☆ has a detective board with w/ quotes ect.

☆ sumi also tries to help (even more confused than he is)

Ann: violet needs to ask noir out already

Ryuji: I know dude, like I love the guy but, c'mon

-> SUMI'S IN ON IT TOO T^T

Akira does this needlessly complicated name system just to be messy. He doesn't plan on akechi finding out but he keeps it complicated in case any of the others overhear him. He didn't think the possibility of akechi overhearing was very high but Akechi loves to eavesdrop.

[whatthefishh]

Midnight thot for Mona 🌙:

Marc cocked his head, watching you lounge in a patch of sunlight on Steven's ever creased mattress on the floor that he called a bed.

You raised an eyebrow when you noticed him zoned out in your direction, but continued to snack on the box of stuffed chocolate coated dates Jake had gifted you the day before for Eid. He was up to something. You could see it.

"What?" You eventually asked.

"You're not fasting." He said simply.

"What gave it away?" You popped another one in your mouth.

"You're not fasting," he repeated, crouching down onto all fours. "And you're not on your period."

Your face froze halfway into a nervous smile. You shoved the box away, rapidly chewing what you already had. You swallowed.

"And what about it, Sherlock?"

Marc pulled you by the ankles, the flat becoming a blur before the view of the ceiling was replaced by his mischievous grin. "If you're free to eat..." he leaned in closer to whisper in your ear as his hands snaked to your hips, "so am I."

MY GIIIRRRLLLLLL, the way I was blushing and giggling and kicking my feet when I read this I kid you not @melodygatesauthor witnessed it on ft lmfao jfc

okokokokokok 1.5k, NSFW warning: pussydrunk Marc under the cut

He began by kissing the sensitive skin under your ear, lips dragging down your neck as his hands trailed across your hips, teasing the edge of your bottoms. You were embarrassingly wet rather quick, your thighs rubbing together desperate for friction. It had been a long month, and Marc tried his best to keep his paws hands off you as much as he could, but now that he was free to touch, he couldn't hold himself back anymore.

A high pitched keen left your mouth and he froze, mouth hovering right above the collar of your shirt. You froze, eyes wide and trained on the ceiling. You were so needy.

Marc just laughed, he fucking laughed at you, and continued to nuzzle your neck.

"Missed me?"

"You could say that," you replied a little too breathlessly for your liking.

Marc mouthed at your breasts through your top, kissing and leaving wet marks in the thin fabric of Steven's t-shirt.

"Me, too, baby, missed how wet you always are for me."

At that, his hand broke the barrier and reached into your panties, groaning at the mess he found between your legs. You whined at the feeling of his fingers just playing with your folds, not fully giving you what you needed from him.

He pressed his forehead into your sternum and your hands instinctively reached for his hair, threading your fingers through the soft curls and tugging slightly; desperate, so so desperate.

You were fine until he had given you that look, the look that left you almost scared to be at his mercy, not knowing how far he was going to push you, how much he'd make you beg for it, how much he'd want from you. Because he did, he wanted so much, and you couldn't help but want to give everything you had, til your last breath.

"Can't believe I had to wait a whole month just to feel you again," his voice came out muffled against the stupid t-shirt you were still wearing. You wanted to cry when he ripped his hand free from your sleeping bottoms, but before you could beg him for something, anything, he was already up on his knees, pulling them off of you.

"A whole fuckin' month without tasting you," he scoffed. You just stared at him, mouth open as you tried not to let your eyes water from how badly you wanted him.

He wrenched your knees apart on Steven's bed, his t-shirt bunched up right under your breasts, ironically the only thing you had on at this point. You wondered if he was watching, if he could see you dripping.

Marc certainly could. He just stared at your core for too long before saying anything and you'd be lying if you said you could breathe normally.

"Missed the way you smelled, too," he groaned as he swiped his fingers through your slick folds, holding them up in the light and splitting them to see your honey before suckling them.

He bent his head before you could reply, lowering himself to kneel on the floor before you, dragging your hips to the edge of the bed. You tilted your hips up slightly, rendered speechless at the rough edge to his voice but widening your legs like an offering.

The moments between him watching you twitch and pant above him and him actually leaning forward to have the first taste felt like eternity but you didn't break the eye contact, in fear of him making you wait longer.

You let out the breath you had been holding the second his tongue touched your soaked folds, one long, slow lick, the tip of his tongue flicking your clit on the upstroke.

"Ohhhh!"

You didn't realize your hips lifted off the bed until Marc's arm slid around your thigh to hold you down, his other hand pressing divots into the softness of your thigh. His mouth worked over your mound, opening wide and devouring you whole, eyes closing in bliss as your taste hit his senses and moaning into you.

Somehow, his thumb was rubbing soft circles into your hip from where it was slug across your middle while his lips wrapped around your clit, suckling noisily; the juxtaposition of his actions coaxing a pathetic sound from you.

"Almost forgot what you tasted like," his voice rumbled into your waiting core, the vibrations making you drip onto the bedding. Your hands flex in their hold in his hair.

Marc presses his tongue back on you, in you, he's everywhere and it's too much and not enough all at once. He must have unlocked his jaw to be mouthing at you the way he is, and when you chance a look down you see that you were right in your assumption. His eyes snap open when he senses you shifting, meeting your eyes with a dark hunger that makes you quiver and clench.

Lifting his mouth off you after some time, you can see your slick all over his lips, down his chin and a bit of it on his nose from where it was buried in you. The sight alone pulls a sound between a whine and a moan from you, loud in the apartment, causing him to close his eyes on an exhale, almost like he's trying to control himself.

"Gonna stay still for me? Can you do that?"

He says this as he traces your entrance with the two fingers from earlier, the ones he so rudely ripped away from you.

"I asked you a question, need your words, baby."

How the fuck were you expected to answer him with your juices all over his chin?

"Ahh, y-yeah, yes, mhmmm," your voice trailed off as he slowly pressed his fingers inside, the intrusion most welcome after the time apart.

He curled his fingers after sliding in up to his knuckle, raising his eyebrows at your pinched expression. You were so keenly aware of his hands on you, immediately reaching out to grab his free hand when it started to shift against your hips. Marc intertwined your fingers as he began the slow thrust of his fingers, watching his hand moving between your legs, in your soft and wet walls.

Your moans start to fill the room, your hips starting to move of their own accord as his fingers filled you up so perfectly, in time with his thrusts and Marc just watched the whole time, his eyes fixed on you soaking his hand.

"I-I wanna come," you pleaded.

"I know, baby, I know, just-"

He didn't get to finish, his mouth lowering to you again, gathering your slick with his tongue before slurping at your clit. You feel yourself reaching your end, your pussy fluttering over his thick fingers, signalling that you were close, that you were about to gush all over him.

He moaned into you again, squeezing your hand where you were still connected to let you know to come, letting you know he was waiting, his fingers pressing so deep, curling just right-

The pleasure clouded your mind, drowned you underwater, your ears ringing and your vision whiting out. You only knew Marc, and the relief you felt in your core, cascading out of you and right into Marc's waiting lips. He lapped up everything you were giving him, eagerly, hungrily, eyes closed in bliss with you.

You don't know how long you were there for, suspended in that moment of euphoria as he drank all that you offered him, but when you came to he was licking you clean, kissing your pubic bone affectionately afterwards.

You swallowed before attempting to speak, noticing how dry your throat had gotten which got you thinking- oh god, how loud you must've been in your high.

He squeezed your hand again, testing to see if you were okay in classic Marc fashion - imperceptibly.

Your breathing was uneven and heavy, but you were smiling and squeezed his hand back in response. You pulled him toward you by his hand, and he sweetly obliged you, gathering you in his arms on the bed. You nuzzled your face into his chest shyly as he pulled your half-naked body snug against his still dressed one, the hard lines of him grounding you back to yourself.

"'M here, baby, did so good for me," he was speaking low, the vibrations through his chest blanketing your mind, curling around it like an embrace.

Marc adjusted Steven's shirt that you were still wearing, and pulled the comforter around the both of you in case you dozed off. He was so wrapped up in you, both literally and figuratively, that he didn't notice Steven hovering near the forefront of the head-space, eagerly awaiting his turn once you were well rested enough.

The body was itching for a release of its own, and Steven would be damned before he let Marc have all the fun.

Taglist:

@kittyofalltrades @am-3-thyst @sir-knight-slytherdor @m0nster-fvcker @daemonnix96 @alexxavicry @this-bitch-writes @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @loonymagizoologist @cherryvalentine1 @ahookedheroespureheart @lonelyisamyw-0love @twwcs @raven-rk @bitchyglitterfox @einno-arko @xbellaxcarolinax @lucianadraven32 @soonknight @romanarose @dameronscopilot @milkymoon2483 @unspokenmoon @campingwiththecharmings @oscarisaacsspit @daniacat @fettuccin-e @mercuryrosesixx @nik2blog @melodygatesauthor @darktealrat @noahspector @dameron-grant-spector @your-voice-is-mellifluous @minigirl87 @annautumnsoul @360iris @melodygatesauthor @ninebluehearts @vaderstherapist @eyelessfaces @maravedder @Thatpersongold

[im-a-turtle-with-anger-issues]

FINALLY YOURE BACK TO NORMAL.

Mona lisa is missing. you didn't care when you were ...like that.

-@izayakasanka

I cared.

I just know that she's tough.

But I am getting a little concerned, now.

[razorblade180]

Built to Break

Trigger warning: Torture and dark themes

Continuation of this<-

In life, it’s said all actions cause a reaction; consequences that could be seen while others remained elusive until the final moment. Mona never found herself to be an elusive figure, yet as she stared into the widened, cold gaze of her mother, Mona knew immediately that she had been as poised as her hidden dagger.

“Talk?” Her mother said with a dry venom. “The hell do we have to talk about? Untie me!”

“Wow. Not even gonna ask about dad? Then again, why would you? He couldn’t even bother to sober up

enough to see you choking on smoke. Or maybe he simply didn’t care?” Mona picked up her knife, causally spinning it. “Anyways, he’s dead now.”

“Did I ask?”

“No, but I doubt you understand how. You were never that fucking bright.”

“You killed him.” Her eyes narrowed. She did her best to move her arms but the ropes wouldn’t allow it. “Doesn’t take a genius to figure it out. You’ve always been an opportunistic rat.”

“Says the woman who whored out her own daughters. You’re only half right by the way. An opportunistic rat would’ve used the blaze to commit a crime like murder or abduction.”

“And what the hell would you call all of this?”

“Simple, it was planned. After all, I am the one who started the fire.”

Mona’s mother went stiff, her blood running cold as the girl flashed a horrific grin that found this situation marvelous. Mona finally stood up and began circling around the chair.

“That’s right. It was all me. Took awhile to get that much Dust but hey, it was worth the sight. Although I should’ve guessed dad would simply remain drunk off his own ass in that chair of his. It honestly looked like he wanted to go. I mean being with you is practically being de-”

Tuh!

A lob of spit hit Mona right in the face. Her eyes darted towards her mother who was now seething. Mona ran her left hand across where the spit landed then flicked it back at the sender.

“Rude. I’m talking.” She stopped right in front of the chair and squatted real low, her gaze fixated on the anger directed towards her. “You’re forgetting your own rule. I thought we were supposed to be accommodating to those holding the power?”

Without warning, Mona’s knife found a new home in the woman’s right thigh. Before she could even yell, Mona gripped her jaw like a vice and yanked her close enough to bite.

“Yell and I will drag the knife down and pop out your knee.” She pushed her mother away and stood back up. A strained chuckle left her throat as she shook herself off. “Wooo! Hehe, got a little real there for a second. Damn, still know how to get under my skin I guess.”

“Th-The hell do you want? The fuck is this all about!?” Her voice trembled as she held back the pain.

“Finally getting emotional are we? The stone cold bitch attitude was never for you anyway. Don’t get me wrong; you’re definitely cold and a bitch. The last thing you’ll ever be is stone though. No, you’ve always been brittle. Not to mention stupid. You can’t guess why I’m here? Are you serious? If we’re playing that game then fine, I can play. So then, mother, aren’t you going to ask me if my dear little sister survived the fire?”

“Oh you can not be serious?” Rage returned. “All this for Amber? Last time I checked, you didn’t give a rat's ass about her when you ran away! Now you wanna care?! FUCK Y-”

Another knife flew through the air and found a home in the woman’s left shoulder.

“Gah! Aaagh!”

Mona put her right leg on the chair and leaned forward, looking down on her mother’s writhing face. “You really have to learn to mind your tone.” She pushed it in deeper, letting her mother’s screams echo through the metal pillars until she was sure her knife hit bone. Mona yanked the blade in her mom’s leg out and took a few steps back again to watch.

Blood now stained burnt clothes covered in ash. The pathetic excuse for a person was coughing on her own spit as she gasped in the brief agony inflicted on her body, which only prolonged the pain.

Mona rolled her eyes. “Look at you, practically drooling. What, forget how to swallow? You sure as hell made certain I didn’t. How many personal lessons did you give Amber and I? They were always so much more brutal than the real deal. How you managed that, I’ll never know.”

“So it’s all about revenge?” Her lungs wheeze as she took a sharp breath before coughing again. “Gonna do everything I ever taught you eh?”

“Fuck no. If anybody wanted your body then maybe your hands wouldn’t have been busy on us and taking lien from your old clients in exchange for fresh blood. Must’ve been a dream come true. Vacuo’s most known whore was finally free, or maybe it pissed you off that after getting pregnant from a nobody, you became one too? One child robbed you off all your worth, and apparently your looks. Guess I was born a thief.”

“You are lucky to be born at all!”

“Am I though? Should I be grateful that I have your hair? Eyes that people can’t get enough of? You’d sell those too if it was worth the cost.”

“Oh cry me river.” She growled. “You’ve been away from me for years now and all you get up to is stealing and choosing when to choke on a dick for your own profit! Don’t act like you’re torn up about it.”

Mona spun the tip of her knife on her finger. “True enough I guess. Not like there were many options I could think of at…how old was I? Eh, as if it matters. I’d probably remember if you ever sent me to school, or taught me anything that didn’t involve submitting. All that money you made off of me and nothing to show for it. What was I saying again? Oh right, I was gutter trash who only knew two ways to make money well. No fucking shit I used it.”

“Then you understand exactly where I’m-”

“Ah, ah, ah. I’m still talking, and that sentence sounded dangerously close to hurting your good leg.”

Mona threw the knife right between both legs. She walked over and startled her mother, pulling the knife out in the process. “You know…if kids really caused you so much trouble in your life, I can help make sure you never have them again.”

The blade tore away a sliver of the burnt shirt around her abdomen. Panic fought its way into her brain as Mona’s cold eyes told her that wasn’t a joke.

“I’m waiting for an answer.” Mona said calmly.

“N-No.”

“No, what?”

Tears welled up. “No ma’am.”

“Heh, good girl. I guess you do remember how to act.” Mona brought the knife up to catch her mother’s tears. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you cry. It’s pretty ugly. Maybe that’s why those idiots didn’t care much when Amber wept.”

“Wh-What have you heard?”

“Nothing really. Just that you were strapped for money again so you did what you always do. As long as the price is high enough, anyone is an option. How much?”

“…I-”

“How much?”

“10,000 lien! They paid 10,000 lien!”

“That’s all it took for you to hand Amber to two huntsmen so inept they couldn’t even handle a starving teenager fending them off without killing her. I didn’t even bother asking them what set her off, or if she cried. Let’s be real, we both know she did.”

“You found them?”

“Did you think foreign huntsman could kill a girl and Ruby Rose wouldn’t be all over it. Now that’s a mother. Had those two in a cell immediately and the knees made the rounds, which I’m guessing is how you heard that 10,000 lien had cost you everything. You ask why I care? Amber was nothing like me and you knew that.

Mona got up and kicked the chair, shattering it with ease and causing her mother to fall down onto the cold, sandy and metal flooring. The chains restringing her to the chair were now useless, bot the set personally bounding her legs. Mona attached her wrists together and put the link on a hook while her mother groaned. Mona took back her second knife to inflict more pain before walking over to a metal beam with a button she pressed. The hook rose, dragging a body up with it until her toes grazed the ground.

“Agh! Please, enough! I get it! You’re pissed! I fucked up!”

“Your entire life is a fuck up, and I don’t remember saying I was pissed off. You’ve done so much to me that I think I’m full circle on it. After all, you did teach me one thing about myself you never intended.”

“I…I did?” She huffed, twitching as Mona got close again.

“Put people under enough stress, and you see what they’re made of; you can see how they break. I learned long ago I was made to be broken. To be put back together as needed and torn down if need be. That’s why I don’t mind how my life has shaped out to be. It’s why I cared to come after you. I don’t give up a fuck about you! Amber however, you broke her even before I even ran away and you knew it. She stopped speaking, thinking, being anything. Amber was basically a doll. How was I supposed to take her away with me? I had no shelter. Everyone knew who we belonged to! Mother fucker, I’VE ALWAYS CARED!” Mona hissed, her eyes stinging. “You made it impossible to leave with her! Like you said, I kept doing what you taught me cause I had nowhere to go, and Amber was never built to take that life! You took my sister and left behind the pieces. Now those don’t even exist anymore and I’m left falling apart again because maybe I should’ve ran off with her anyways?! Hehe haha! It’s so STUPID! You do everything wrong and yet I’m the one feeling like a fuck up? I can barely keep down my dinner.”

Mona’s head buzzed, causing her to hold it in discomfort. She really felt like she might vomit. Was it rage, or guilt? She didn’t know or care. She just knew what she always did. “This is such bullshit.”

Her mother had given up hope of trying to escape. All her cuts had been to cause pain and bleed, but even she could tell none of them were fatal. “O-Okay. Okay, I- I’m sorry. You made your point. Just turn me in already and I’ll confess to everything.” She pleaded.

Mona’s eyes looked at the woman with a burning indifference. “Even now, you barely pay attention. Do you think you’re getting out of this before breaking? I should at least give it my all. Just like you did for us.” She spun her knives. “Every place they left a mark, I’m going to put on you. Hold out until then.”

Panic came back with a single step forward. Tears mixed with ash, sweat, grime as her heart pounded. She practically jumped out of her skin as Mona held her face still.

“I’ll keep them shallow. Those hurt the worst.” Mona slid the blade across her right cheek, drawing blood. “I thought I told you crying made you ugly. For once, you are going to follow my instructions to the letter. Do you understand?”

“Y-Yes!” She sniffed, terrified of her own creation. “I’ll do whatever you say. Then-then I go, right?”

“Haha, as long as you listen then yes, I will let you go.” Mona took a step back and smiled, watching her mother smile back faintly. “Although…I don’t think I heard a ma’am after that, yes. Someone isn’t a good rule follower.”

And just like that, light faded from the woman’s eyes, matching her daughter’s. “N..No.” tears ran down in full force. “I-I’m sorry! I’M SORRY!” Mona got closer…

“And now you’re yelling and crying again. That’s three strikes already. Pfft, oh well. It’s like you told me once, some people only learn after the punishment. Try not to see dad too soon for me. Speaking of seeing…” Mona held her mother’s eyes open. “Might as well start here.”

“St-STOP! STAAAAAHHHHP!”

[nian-7]

Various x gn!reader

✧random headcanons w/ some of my favs (cause its my birthday.)

✧fluff, mild language & mention of alcohol

Rei (Layer) Wakana is such a sweetheart and is so easily embarrassed when it comes to romance. It's endearing just to see her blush when you offer her your hand or a flower.

Ran Mitake can't handle any of the playful teasing. Her face erupts with blush when you do playfully tease her and she's not sure how to act when you give her a kiss on her bright red cheeks.

Shuhei Hisagi has no clue how to react sometimes when you make those teasing comments towards him. They make his brain spiral and he can't help but get all red in the face. He doesn't realize that it's the reason why you do it in the first place.

Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez has no clue what the meaning of your affection towards him is. It genuinely confuses him that he has this odd warm feeling inside of him whenever you jump and give him a hug or kiss whatever you might be able to reach. He's not sure if he likes the feeling or not.

Meguru Bachira always makes days fun when you're around. He can't help but just let loose around you and simply have fun! Doesn't matter what the two of you do, as long as you're both doing something together.

Yakumo Murai always gives you that goofy grin of his when he's about to ask you for something. Whether that be beer or just to come sit by him, you'll never know. It's a coin toss but he always makes sure it's worth your while by giving you a kiss afterwards.

Michizou Tachihara loves to come home after a stressful day and just falling into your arms. It calms him down and that's all he'd rather do. Being in your arms is the best place he could be.

Tecchou Suehiro is so sweet and even when you know his food combos are weird, he likes it when you try them sometimes. Even if they are the... less.. weird ones. He still appreciates that you don't just look at him weirdly when he eats them.

Kazuha Kaedehara is so gentle and caring with you. He's always there to be a gentleman to you. Taking your hand in his to kiss the top of it, saying loving words to you, or even just simply walking along side you.

Xiao, even when he says he doesn't want to be around mortals, he can't help but be drawn to you. He'll always check in on you whenever possible, just to make sure you're safe. Since you are a mortal after all, that's all there is to it, right?

Cyno, god, he loves it when you laugh along with him at something stupid. It doesn't even have to be at one of his jokes, he just likes that you have a sense of humor that he can work with when he does make jokes.

Mona can't help but feel all warm and fuzzy inside when you care for her. She gets embarrassed and denies it but, she loves it when you buy her something more than a salad to eat to make sure she's eating enough or when you give her affection without her having to ask for it.

Jing Yuan gets a lazy smile when he sees you walk into his office. His day just gets better when he sees you and although he may not get as much work as Fu Xuan would like him to when you're around, he doesn't particularly mind putting it off till later.

Ichika Hoshino enjoys watching the stars with you. Going to a hill where you can see stars clearly is her favorite kind of night you both could be having. It's so peaceful and she gets to spend it with her favorite person.

Akito Shinonome rolls his eyes at romance till you came along. Something about you just struck his heart and now he can't keep you out of it. He hates that he can't but he comes to terms with it little by little every time he sees you.

An Shiraishi loves to go to karaoke with you. Whether it's just you or with the rest of VBS, she loves it so much. It's always a blast and you both end up smiling when you do leave the place.

Chifuyu Matsuno can't help but think about how you might react if he were to try those cliche shoujo manga things on you. He knows it'd be embarrassing and so he never truly attempts it. Sometimes he really thinks about it though and backs out at the last moment.

Shinichiro Sano likes it when you help him. Doesn't matter how or how much you're doing or not doing, he appreciates when you help and he can't help but feel happy inside that you're showing interest in helping.

Tsuchigomori likes his alone time. Especially when it's with you. When he gets to sit and read a good book with you beside him, it's where he's most content.

please do not repost any of my work without my permission, thank you for reading.

[extraordinarybennyyy]

marvellous time ruining everything

pedro pascal x reader

tw: none

"Am I fat?" 

The compelling, indisputable and unambiguous question left the Chilean actor speechless, his dark eyes darting between you and your reflection in the mirror. Your long skirt billowed around your ankles, swollen belly carrying the bloom of your everlasting love, light glinting on your earrings.  Such a glowing and dazzling creature, yet heartless for letting him face a question without a proper, right answer. Femme fatale. 

A bomb unleashing a war.

Pedro stopped drinking from the straw, tasting the green juice on his lips. The rays of the Sun filtered through the window curtains of Oscar's house, creating a picture of shadows and lights as if you were a famous painting, a Mona Lisa. 

His heart was beating fast both from how charming you looked, glowing and shining with the child inside you and from the question still lingering inside the room, like a dark cloud threatening the weather. 

"Pedro?"

"¿Qué?"  He pursued his lips and started drinking his juice once again nonchalantly, even if the box was already empty. An image of his mind at that moment, one could say.

"I asked you something."

"Umh."

You swivel around to face him, hands anchored to your hips, stars shining in your eyes. The hair framing your features perfectly fell on your shoulders like Niagara's falls, your painted lips shaping that question once more. Pedro felt like a kid in trouble, his mind processing an excuse to get out of the terrible situation. 

Of course you had gained a little bit of weight. It was reasonable and obvious, the opposite would have been weird and left him as a worrying mess. And, of course, it didn't mean that he loved you less. Pedro loved you, the essence of you,  the feeling of you. He would have loved you in every shape and form, worshiping you like a goddess. He would have even loved you if you were a worm, as he told you countless times to answer your weird question.

However - 

Pedro had learnt the lesson the hard way. A few months back before even knowing you were pregnant- which seemed like years and years ago, he had noticed your little weight gain and roundness when you complained about clothes not fitting in anymore. Inconsolable tears and sobs filled the house for the entire day and more, the ticket for an unwanted concert. 

That's why that question weighed a little bit more than others. What was he supposed to do? Lie and make you happy or tell you the truth and face the aftermath of it? It sounded like the stupid games his nieces made him play sometimes, where he always ended up choosing the wrong thing. Like that time he wanted  Eric the asshole to be nice and heroic but Pedro eventually let him die while falling  into the void. 

Your expectant eyes were still looking at him, both hands on your belly. White lies are good ones, like candies, he told himself, and the last thing he wanted was seeing you cry. And unleash a bomb. 

That's why he raised his head confidently, acting lessons helping him go through it, a little shaky breath leaving his lips before actually answering. "No." 

An unreadable and indecipherable expression portrayed on your face. You were a lock and he was the adventurous archeologist who had to find the code to open it. Pedro felt like Indiana Jones for a brief moment and was ready to flash you a smile to give strength to his statement, when-

Out of nowhere, like the annoying know-it-all first of the class child telling the teachers everything the others did, muppet-like Oscar Isaac  appeared behind Pedro's left shoulder, uttering his non-requested opinion. "You hesitated." 

The bomb exploded.

[bettsfic]

writers' block can have many causes, but one of the most common and insidious is what i call the Bad Faith Audience: the mass of anonymous readers in your head who make fun of and belittle your work. the Bad Faith Audience happens when you're staring at a document, you want to write something, but you think to yourself, "who's going to read this? why should i bother?" it also happens when you restrict yourself: "that's a stupid idea. it's bad writing." that's what's so messed up about the Bad Faith Audience--it's an assumption of a homogenous population of people who somehow get to decide what Good Writing is. "this isn't very good," you think to yourself of your own work. but by what standard are you judging yourself? how exactly have you reached that conclusion? you've built up a non-existent audience of people to attempt to appease. the harder you try to appease that Bad Faith Audience, the more you concede your own ideals and flatten your writing to appeal to the largest common denominator.

you stare at a blank document, and before you've even written a word, you've reached the conclusion it's not worth existing. that it won't be good enough based on an unidentifiable standard. it won't be perfect. and then you don't write it.

possibly you think, "but there are all these writers i admire and i'll never be as good as them." there will always be writers you think are better than you. always. that does not invalidate your work. you have improved from where you began and you will continue to improve as long as you keep writing. the author you admire may be on a different mile marker on their own journey, but you'll get there too eventually. or maybe you won't; maybe you'll walk down a different path than them and be able to acknowledge that their voice and aesthetics are just not what you write, and that's okay. you don't have to be able to write everything. you can admire something and not adopt it into your own goals.

here's a thought experiment that's gotten me to close the curtain on the Bad Faith Audience:

don't imagine many readers. imagine one reader. i call this reader Aunt Janet. Aunt Janet can look down on anything, no matter how lauded or famous. van gogh's sunflowers? "it's just flowers. who cares?" the mona lisa? "she's not even smiling."

Aunt Janet looks at your work and says, "what's the point? go do something better with your time." but the thing about Aunt Janet is that she doesn't know anything about writing or art or music, has no knowledge to help frame her understanding of your work, and so why does her opinion matter? you can never make Aunt Janet happy.

so whenever i think, "i'm not good enough," i ask myself, says who? Aunt Janet says who. and Aunt Janet doesn't know jackshit.

now let's look at the other side of the spectrum: the very opposite of Aunt Janet, the reader who just gets you, gets what you're doing, and loves it. i call this person the Ideal Reader. they're in awe of everything you write. they read your work and leave dozens of keysmash comments in the margins. they can't wait to see what you write next.

Aunt Janet doesn't exist and Ideal Reader doesn't exist either, but in the same way you can define Aunt Janet's tastes by reasons she would hate your work, you can define the Ideal Reader by the reasons they would love it.

Ideal Reader is exceptionally well-read in your genre. they know all the tropes and expectations. they know what authors your work is in conversation with. they have an intimate understanding of where your work belongs and the frame of reference necessary to understand the context of your work. all writing has context; when we dislike something, it's usually because we don't understand its context, and if we were to understand it, it may not be for us, but we can at least understand the kind of person who values it. we can fathom its Ideal Reader and avoid becoming Aunt Janets ourselves by acknowledging that every piece of writing can be loved.

whenever you dismiss an idea as ridiculous or stupid, Ideal Reader is there going, "no, wait, i want to read that." when you can't take your work seriously, Ideal Reader is shaking you by the shoulders saying, "it's serious to me."

now imagine Ideal Reader has a platform. they have authority. they're a BNF who recs your fic. they're an acquisitions editor at your dream publisher. they're a producer asking to buy the rights to your manuscript. imagine Ideal Reader is someone who can champion your work and take it to its highest possible place.

Ideal Reader has been in the business a long time. Ideal Reader is confident and doesn't take shit from anybody. Ideal Reader stands up for what they believe in.

imagine bringing Ideal Reader to a party and introducing them to Aunt Janet. Aunt Janet immediately tries to belittle Ideal Reader: "so you publish books, so what, who cares about books?" "so you have a million followers. why don't you do something real with your time?" "you're a producer? go to med school and do something meaningful."

Ideal Reader is amused by Aunt Janet and her gross misperceptions. but then Aunt Janet goes after your work, and that is too far. Ideal Reader points at Aunt Janet and goes, "you have no idea what you're talking about." and they proceed to list off all the things they value about your work.

imagine the things Ideal Reader would say to Aunt Janet, and write out that list.

that list is your value. it's what you're giving to your community when you share your work. it's why you write.

the sad truth is that you'll encounter far more Aunt Janets than you ever will Ideal Readers. sometimes Aunt Janets are actually very knowledgeable and still demean your work, but it's because they're jaded and insecure and maybe a little pretentious. that's okay. your Ideal Readers, or the people closest to it, are the only ones who matter.

i had trouble fathoming the Ideal Reader for a long time until i published my first story and the editor went wild over it. it was the first time someone i didn't even know read my work and saw merit in it, all on its own. i once got into a pretty prestigious residency and it honestly kind of baffled me, until i got there and found out the woman who ran it was a fangirl. when i workshop a story, usually only one or two people in the group will Get It. the rest will try and they'll mean well, but ultimately they're coming at it from a different context and different personal tastes, and that doesn't mean the work is bad, but that they're not my audience. when my agent offered to sign me, she wrote me this long, lovely email about how much she loved my manuscript, and she appreciated the same things i appreciated about it. becoming a successful writer, however you measure success, isn't about being Good. Good Writing is a myth. there's only the stubborn insistence of staying true to yourself, and the long journey of putting your work in the hands of people you hope are Ideal Readers.

there will always be people out there who will understand your work and champion it. there are people whose personal tastes align exactly with yours. but you'll never be able to find those people if you don't write the ideas that are dearest to you and share them with the world.

[dearmura]

through my eyes

☆ cw. some swearing, not beta read (horrible grammar)

☆ pairings. bf! Ni-Ki × gn! reader

☆ synopsis. Riki just finds you so stunning that he can't resist drawing you to capture your beauty

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

"Ki! The movie is set up! I made popcoorrn!" You stretch your last word out in an attempt to convince the boy to join you

Not even a second later, you hear the sound of shuffling growing closer to you, followed by the boy's tall figure appearing, rubbing his eyes adorably

"Did you say popc-?" His lit up face shifts as his jaw drops an awe, stopping dead in his tracks.

"Do I have something on my face?" You ask in a worried tone, opening your camera app

Titling your face side to side, you check for a bug or sauce stain to no avail

At this point, Ni-Ki is practically drooling, staring at you like you're the Mona Lisa herself

"No no, nothing. It's just...you're so stunning, f*ck, angel" He whispers his last words, almost as if you knocked the air out of his lungs

You chuckle softly, hiding your face in your hands

"Stop, I just did my nightly skincare. I'm barefaced and have my strawberry jammies on, Ki, and now is the time you decide to drool over me?" You deadpan with a giggle, still hiding you blush

He slowing approaches you, gently pulling your hands away from your face, cupping your cheek

"Please don't hide your pretty face, angel. And, for your information, I love your strawberry jammies" He whispers with a soft chuckle, his gaze never faltering

Your breath hitches, your face turning impossibly redder

Just as you're about to respond, he stands up

"Hold that thought, love. I'll be right back" He says before scurrying off into his room, leaving you in confusion

A few moments later, he comes back with a sketchbook and pencil, approaching you once more

"May I?" He asks, ghosting his hand under your chin, you nod with a gulp at his proximity

He gently tilts your chin upwards, softly tucking a strand of hair behind your ear before stepping back, doing that artsy thumb thing 👍🏻👎🏻

You giggle at his antics, trying your best to hold your position

He couldn't help but crack a smile after seeing yours, placing a soft kiss on your nose before sitting across from your figure

"Now, hold still for me, darling. Let me know if you're getting tired, alright?" He asks softly before starting. You nod slightly, not wanting to mess up his angles

You soon hear him scribbling softly onto the paper, finding the sound of the pencil hitting the parchment soothing

You smile in content, the blush never leaving your cheeks

"You're doing so good for me, love. That's it" He reassures, checking in with you, knowing how uncomfortable it must be for you to sit there so still

A few more minutes pass by and you hear his strokes becoming less frequent, signaling he was almost done

Your muscles started to slightly ache at this point, so you slightly tilt your head to crack your neck

"Heeyy don't move baby, I promise it'll only take a bit" He cutely whines with a chuckle, you knew he wasn't seriously upset

You can't help but giggle, trying hard to stiffle your laugh but failing when glancing at his little tongue poking out of his mouth in concentration

Before he can say anything, you quickly apologize, going back to your previous position

You see him smiling to himself like an idiot as he adds the finishing touches

"Aaand...done!" He punctuates his last word with a tap of his pencil on the page, tucking the notebook to his chest sneakily, his eyes meeting yours

You sigh in relief, he admires you with a gleam in his eyes as you get up to stretch

You mirror is position on the couch, staring right at him in curiosity

"Can I see?" You ask, crawling toward him slowly with a stupid smile on our face

He grips the sketchbook tighter to his chest, shaking his head cutely

"Only if you give me a kiss right, here" He teases, tapping at his cheek

You roll your eyes, placing a soft kiss where his finger was, hearing him hum in content

"And here" He points to the other cheek

You sigh, placing a peck on his cheek once more

"And h-" He points to his lips, about to finish but you interpret him instead

"I'll be the judge of that" You tease, trying to sneak a peak at his sketch

He sighs, "fair"

Slowly handing the sketchbook to you, he looks away, curling into himself in embarrassment

As you look down as his work, a tear can't help but roll down your cheek

Around your face were little hearts, along with arrows pointing out little details of your face, you read them one by one

An arrow pointing to your birthmark reads 'my favorite little chocolate chip <3'

An arrow pointing to your eyes read 'the most gorgeous ones on Earth, could get lost in them for hours'

Every strand of hair, scar and birthmark had little notes pointing out his love for each and every one

Another tear rolls down your cheek

He hears you sniffling and quickly cups your cheeks with a worried look

"Are you alright, angel? Did I say something mean? I didn't mean to offend you. Do you not like th-" His rambling it's quickly shushed by your lips

Gently putting his sketchbook to the side, you straddle him, sitting on his lap, never breaking the kiss

Playing with the hair on his nape, you can't help but smile into the kiss

"I'm not upset, Ki. I'm just so happy to have you. Thank you, love" you whisper before colliding your lips onto his, addicted to the feeling

His hands gently find their way to your waist, he whispers

"You mean the world to me y/n, you have no idea. When I saw you just then, it's like the world stopped for a second. You're so *kiss* so *kiss* f*cking *kiss* gorgeous, angel *kiss*"

You giggle, burying your face into the crevice of his neck, placing a gentle kiss below his ear, whispering

"I love you so much, Ki"

He softly pulls you from his neck and holds your chin, leaning his head so your foreheads meet

"I love you too, angel" placing a soft kiss on your temple, holding you close with a hum

I'm delulu pls help😓