#tagging with both just for cross reference i guess

[sacredflamingart]

started another redraw of the 2001 roseiii cover. ink and pencil like the original. as i worked on each head shot, more and more i wanted to do it digitally, so i eventually stopped

[yuriyuruandyuraart]

motorcycle sketch featuring cross!! >:)

[miyukisu]

A Trace of Body Paint .ᐟ

❤︎ Request | He's learning anatomy for his art class—you'll help him, right? 3.1k wc ╰ feat. artist!shidou ryusei (bllk) x afab!reader

tags - lots of tension and build up at first, p*rn with plot, college au, artist! shidou, he and reader are both experienced, FILTHY, dirty talk, unprotected smeggs, rough smeggs, face f*cking, creampies, overstim, no y/n, not beta read

MEGA MASTERLIST

minors do not interact

"Yeah! I'll see you next week for my next assignment. Okay?"

Yeah right... next week...

You didn't peg Shidou as the type to flake on you, especially since he was the one who needed something from you. At first, you gave him the benefit of the doubt, then your mind wandered to impossible territory.

Maybe he found a different person to model for him.

Maybe you weren't good enough a model and he was getting low marks because of you...

But wouldn't that be his fault?

Maybe... he dropped out of class?

Every possibility crossed your mind, but not once did you think of actually asking him, "Hey, what's up with not calling me anymore to model for your art class? You know... THE THING WE DO WEEKLY?"

But pride does get the best of us. You are no different. Either the world ends or he grovels at your feet for ghosting you like that. Anyway, why did you care so much?

Shidou Ryusei only asked you to model for him for a few weeks for an art course he was taking. It just so happens you two were close and your schedules matched (and he thought you were really pretty). In exchange, he'd treat you after every drawing session. Ordinary stuff—that was until you slowly started to develop feelings for him.

There was something about the way he looked at you as he studied every minute detail—making sure they were all transferred to paper. He made you feel so... beautiful in ways you've never realized before. But most of all, you fell for such a creative and passionate spirit.

You were snapped out of your thoughts upon spotting a familiar hairdo across the quad. Your eyes met and you made sure not to waste this opportunity—glaring at him, making sure he knew how much he had pissed you off. Shidou looked left and right, possibly trying to find a way out of it. But maybe the intensity in your eyes worked because before you knew it—he was making his way to you.

"Hey..."

"Really? That's all you have to say after ignoring the texts I sent last week?"

"Eh... must've missed them," he lied.

"What about the time you saw me near your building? You missed me standing a meter away from you?"

"Guess so," he lied again.

His nonchalance made you want to rip your hair out. This hot-and-cold treatment was driving you up the wall. It was clear with the exasperated look on your face.

Though, his eyes never left yours—those same damn eyes that stared at you for hours. It was like there was something he wanted to say, but couldn't.

"Why did you even walk over here?"

He sighed like he didn't gave a shit. "You looked like you were about to murder me."

"Shouldn't you be running away then?" you countered. Shidou simply shrugged. "I'm not sure either."

You were about to unleash your fury, but he sighed loudly before continuing. "Fuck... fine. I've been avoiding you."

"Yes. I can clearly see that. The question is—why?"

"Look. I've been getting the highest scores in class because I have the luxury to have an actual person model for me... while everyone else relies on references on the internet or whatever," he explains. "But now... it's..."

"Isn't that a good thing then?" you asked—confused by his reasoning, but even more confused by his change in demeanor.

He shook his head. "Nah... it's just... I won't be needing you anymore."

Your jaw dropped. He said it so casually like it didn't just left a gaping hole in your chest.

"I mean," he backtracked. "We're gonna start drawing nude figures soon, so either you're willing to strip for me or—"

You cut him off. "Are you gonna draw my face with it?"

"Eh, all I need to draw now is the body since we're done with portraits and—"

You cut him off again. "Then draw me."

"Wha—" Shidou was cut off once more. "You heard me. Draw me," you say, as if challenging him.

It earns a hearty laugh from him—one you haven't heard in a while. "You're saying you're gonna stand butt naked in front of me while I stare at you for an hour or two? You know how that sounds, right?"

"It sounds like you're gonna stare at me butt naked for an hour or two."

You were so shameless, he thought. But it was one of the many things he liked about you. He chuckled, amused by the way things turned. Well... what kind of artist would he be to turn down such an enticing muse?

Shidou let out a low whistle as soon as the last article of clothing met the floor. You used to do these drawing sessions in the library—when all he had to observe from you were innocent things like your eyes, your hands, your hair, and so on.

But now that you have to bare everything to him, you figured the only place to do it was at his dorm. It was like what you imagined: cluttered but artsy enough that you could let it pass.

You stood awkwardly in the middle, feeling a bit chilly with nothing to protect you. But you posed, placing a hand on your hip while looking off to the side. That way, there wouldn't be any awkward eye contact.

Shidou sat down on a stool and quickly got to drawing. He said nothing as his eyes constantly flitted between the paper and your body.

The first few minutes in—you became hyperaware of everything. The fact that he was seeing absolutely everything. The absurdity of this entire situation. But most of all, the way your body was reacting to his gaze.

From your peripheral, you could see his gaze linger a bit too long at times. He'd bite his lower lip every so often and it made you feel conscious. Was he doing that because he could see your nipples hardening due to the temperature? Maybe he noticed the way you'd subtly rub your thighs together?

Whatever it was—it had him clearing his throat and shifting in his seat, seemingly uncomfortable.

Around 15 minutes pass, until he finally spoke. "Feeling tired yet?" he asked without looking up from his paper. You figured he was applying the final touches at this point.

"Yeah. A bit."

He hummed in response. "Get comfortable on my bed then."

"What? On your bed? Now?"

Shidou looked up from his paper. At this point both of you were desensitized by your nakedness (or so you thought). "Yes. Now. I have to draw you in at least 3 poses."

Three?

You gulped. But, once more, pride creeps up. You can't just challenge him to draw you naked so boldly—only for you to back down now. You gathered yourself and sat on his bed which was only a few steps away.

"Go on. You can get comfortable," he encouraged.

So you did. You lied down on your side, propping your head up on your hand. The scene that had unfolded reminded you of that one Titanic scene: Rose sprawled out for Jack to draw.

Knowing that, the moment felt too intimate. But you sucked it up... even though there was an unwanted wetness forming at your core.

Shidou shifted in his seat again, lowering his paper on his lap. "Alright, keep that position," he said, a bit strained.

In this position, you couldn't look off to the side. Your only option for the next few minutes was the wall behind him or Shidou himself.

At some point, your eyes met. There was something in his eyes you've never seen before. It wasn't the usual focus he had; it was something else. Something more intense.

But the 2nd pose passes soon enough and you were down to your last.

"What should I do now?"

He sighed, looking over his current sketches. "Lemme think. I'm having a hard time getting the details right."

"Maybe it's because you're sitting so far away," you commented—not thinking about what it implied.

His eyes zeroed in on you again—caught by your words. You want him to come closer with you like that and him slowly losing his composure? You were playing a dangerous game and you had no idea yet.

Shidou finally stood up from his chair, walking over to the bed. You weren't sure if it was just your imagination, but he was hard. His length strained against his fitted pants. The sight had your mouth watering.

He sat down beside you, eyes never leaving yours. The atmosphere seemed charged with the way you two found yourselves slowly leaning into each other.

"You look great," he whispered. It was something he always said in these sessions. It was a rather simple compliment. But it held more weight now.

"Thanks," you meekly responded. Neither of you realized how fast he inched towards you. His lips were a breath away. You showed no signs of backing away, so he went in.

He pressed his lips on to yours. The kiss felt hungry—needy almost—like he was fighting off this urge for so long. Before you knew it, his weight pushed you down on the softness of his bed. His scent enveloped every sense, clouding your judgement.

Shidou pulled away, breathless. "Pose like this."

He sat upright, eyes raking over your body. This time, he didn't hide the way his gaze would linger on certain parts. His hands ran down your legs, admiring the softness of your skin.

Then, without warning, he pried your legs open. But you didn't stop him. His pink irises trailed down to your core, seeing how wet you've gotten. Shidou thought he was drooling.

"Fuck... I wish I could draw this."

You feel your chest tightening. "Why not?"

"And let everyone see this?" his fingers ghosted over the skin of your inner thigh. "No chance in hell. I want to be the only one to appreciate my muse."

He let his thumb swipe through your folds softly before pressing lightly into your clit, earning a mewl from you. He kept circling the sensitive nub as if in a trance.

"I know what I want the last pose to be," he says. You moan a little louder as he rubs your clit faster. "Want your last pose to be you all fucked out... think you can do that?"

Words got caught in your throat. But it hardly mattered. It didn't seem like he'd take 'no' for an answer anyway.

Things escalated quickly because you soon found his finger plunging in and out of your quivering hole. He made sure to curve it in a way—relentlessly hitting that gummy spot on your walls.

He added another finger, wanting to hear more of your breathless moans reverberating throughout his room. To hell with it if his neighbors heard. This was music—it was art in its purest form.

"Shit... might just cum in my pants from this." He almost did after you clenched down on his fingers, cumming for the first time today.

Even as you coat his digits with your essence, he keeps pushing his fingers in and out until the fluttering died down a bit. He pulled his sticky fingers out before having a taste, savoring every last bit.

He made quick work of his belt, pulling down his pants and letting his member out. Your eyes widened. Not only was his size impressive, but his tip was incredibly swollen and leaky—like he couldn't wait anymore.

Shidou exhaled deeply, feeling the chill of his room brush over the sensitive length. He locked eyes with you again. "Care to take care of me a bit? My hand hurts from all that drawing... and... well, you know what else."

Normally, you'd bite back at his teasing. But your mind was fuzzy. All you could do was wrap your fingers around his length, slowly tugging it at first. The pleasure he felt after being so hard for so long took the strength from him. He almost fell on top of you if it weren't for his thick arms supporting him from either side of you.

"C'mon... do it fucking faster," he ordered. You obeyed—jerking him off as fast as you can without hurting him. It wasn't long before his own hand wrapped around yours as he continued to fuck into your fist. Next thing you knew—hot ropes of cum painted your stomach.

Even he was in a daze as he observed a part of him stained you in such an intimate way. He slowly leaned in, his breath fanning your face. "Hey, can I paint you like this? You look even better with my cum all over you."

You let go of his semi-hard member, slowly tracing his muscles up until you cupped his cheek. Gently, you pulled him down for a searing kiss. It was more than enough for him to know that you too wanted more.

He became rougher—biting your lip and fighting your tongue for dominance. As you pulled away for air, Shidou moved quickly to straddle your upper body. He shamelessly took his cock and slapped it against your lips a couple of times.

"Gonna have to help me get hard again, sweets. Help me out, won't you?"

Though he didn't really give you time to respond as he invaded your mouth inch by inch. One hand held the headboard while the other supported your head. He rolled his hips slowly, gauging how much you can take in at a time.

But, clearly, he underestimated you when you gripped his hips and pulled him in yourself. You felt his cock spring back to life steadily. He pulled out his hardened shaft, letting you breathe. It was only now you realized the grin that crossed his face. He was enjoying this way too much.

He went back to hovering over you, his cock bouncing at every move he made. Your body was jelly at this point—not even a bit of resistance as he flipped you over so easily. He licked a long stripe from your lower back up until your nape. The fresh saliva combined with the chilly air made you shudder.

He carelessly lifted up your hips. With your cheek pressed into his pillows and your ass up in the air, he only got harder at the sight. He leaned down to be eye-to-eye with this so-called masterpiece, your cunt.

His nimble fingers toyed around with your soaked folds, chuckling to himself. "Man, I don't think I could ever capture something so damn beautiful."

He gave it a quick lick to test. "Well, unless you let me get familiar with her long enough." Another lick. "Maybe I can capture at least half of its beauty." Another lick. "Don't you think?"

A muffled sound was the only thing he got from you. "Yeah? You're gonna let me get to know her? As an artist, I'm overjoyed right now. Maybe I should show you."

And show he did.

He lapped up at your arousal, tongue licking long stripes each time. Your legs threatened to give out every time he flattened the pink muscle against your twitching hole. It didn't take long before he started darting in and out. Helpless groans filled his small dorm room.

Big calloused hands squeezed the flesh of your ass, making sure you stayed in place for him to enjoy. He was so messy... so so messy. Shidou suckled on your clit—really trying to coax another orgasm from you.

It didn't take much more for you to cum again, but this time all over his mouth. He happily took in everything, reaping the fruits of his labor.

He gave your ass one quick kiss as if to show his thanks. But he wasted no time lining up his painfully erect cock against your entrance. "Fuuuuck, I need to be inside you already or I'm actually going to explode," he muttered.

At first, it was just the tip. But it stretched you out so good already. The needy whine that escaped you was a testament to that. It only made him grip your hips tighter, surely leaving a mark for you to see tomorrow. Carefully, he pushed in more of his length, feeling every bump of your pussy engulf him.

"Shit. This is the stuff."

But he got impatient, shoving in the rest of his length without warning. It was so tight, so warm—too inviting for him to handle. His hands left your hips, opting to find support on the mattress instead. His thick arms caged you as his chest pressed against your back.

He continued to whisper the filthiest things in your ear, kissing your neck occasionally. But for as slow and sensual his voice may seem, his hips snapped with reckless abandon. He wasn't shy about giving you your third and, maybe, fourth orgasm of the day while chasing his own.

"You finally understand why I didn't want to ask you?"

"Yeah... I knew I was gonna end up fucking you real hard."

"But this is so much better than what I imagined."

His words brought you over the edge, cumming again. But the overstimulation rendered you thoughtless. The only thing on your mind was how good he was dicking you down.

"Fuck... Ryu!" you screamed. His grin only grew wider.

"That's it. Scream my fucking name. Let them hear it."

Your wanton moans encouraged him to go faster, mercilessly pistoning into you. It wouldn't be a surprise if you came another time on his cock.

Shidou harshly grabbed your tit, hoisting both of you up into a sitting position. This way, his cock reached even deeper into you. He kneaded your neglected breast while keeping you steady by the waist.

He showed no signs of slowing—even reaching down to play with your clit. A tear was rolling down your face from how sensitive he made you. But he quickly licked the salty tear off of the curve of your cheek.

He whispered softly, "Cum with me."

Just like the obedient muse that you were, you did. You clamped down on him as he shot rope after rope of gooey seed into you. Finally, he slowed down a bit, letting him empty himself in your pulsing cunt.

As you calmed down and he softened, he gently laid you back down on the soft mattress of his bed. He watched as his cum oozed out of you, smirking to himself.

"My best piece of work yet."

©miyukisu do not repost/reupload/translate any of my works on other platforms

╰ author's note WHAT THE FUCK DID I WRITE DAWG I WAS SO ON EDGE THE WHOLE TIME HELP WHY IS IT SO FILTHY

[thewinter-eden]

You Called?

images are mine (except middle HJ pic that I got from pinterest). please do not use without permission. ATE pcs are my inspo for this series.

part 5 of the skz crack!horror series.

pairing: Han Jisung x fem!reader rating: mature, dark themes summary: demon!Jisung is summoned by your friends during a drunken college party. They’re trying to scare you, pretend to summon a demon and then lock you in the basement until they decide to let you out, but then the demon actually comes, and he thinks your friends are jerks.

warnings: Fear/comfort, edgy but soft Jisung, terrorizing of minor characters, discussion of spiritualism/afterlife, my only reference for demons is Supernatural, reader is freaked out by witchcraft, slight disparaging of witchcraft and mysticism (does not reflect actual beliefs), Jisung is instantly whipped, deals, fear, this one turned out a little angsty, truth or dare.

word count: 5k

Comment a request to be tagged.

series info

“I really don’t think this is a good idea.”

“Of course you don’t. But clearly, your aunt did.”

Yes, it’s your aunt’s fault. If only she didn’t have a basement full of jarred herbs and tarot cards and ouija boards and weird leathery spell books, you wouldn’t be in this predicament. You’d be in a different one, for sure, because having the friends that you have isn’t your aunt’s fault, it’s yours, but still—you wouldn’t be locked in a basement with three of your friends browsing through your aunt’s dusty new agey books.

“Now, come on, sit around the circle thing.” One of your friends, Rami, tugs you down by your elbow to sit cross-legged on the edge of a chalk rune on the floor. It looks aged and scuffed and mostly faded by dust and time, but present enough to be identifiable as something mystical.

“I’m serious, I don’t think my aunt would have wanted us down here.” You mutter. It seems colder all of a sudden, chills covering your arms and shivering down your spine.

“Then she should have cleaned it out before she died I guess.” Rami returned, gesturing for Chae and Boyoung to sit down as well. “And besides, this was your penalty. You accepted it, so this is what we’re doing.”

You wouldn’t have accepted the stupid penalty for the stupid drinking game from the stupid college party upstairs if the alternative hadn’t been being cornered by the greasy frat boy who kept slipping his hands under your shirt every time he got the chance.

Next time your cousin tries to convince you to come over and “let loose with a couple of friends” you’re going to remember that her idea of hanging out is a massive college kegger.

“Alright, here it is.” Boyoung draws her legs up underneath her and rests the massive tome of the spell book she’s holding across her knees. She shoots the others a devious smirk, and then clears her throat. “Are we ready?”

You most certainly are not.

It’s not like you believe in the afterlife and mysticism and witchcraft and all of the other spiritualism nuances that your aunt was into, but you also recognize that you definitely don’t know everything about the scope of the universe. You’re willing to admit that you might be wrong about what exists and what is folklore, and you’re certainly not enthusiastic about playing around with the afterlife—just in case.

You’ve never even touched a Ouija board, because what if?

You don’t think they work, but what if?

And now, because you lost a stupid drinking game, your stupid friends are going to use the demon summoning ritual that your aunt just had, like it’s an old family recipe or something.

“Can I pick a different penalty?” You try again, your palms sweating. Yeah, sure, nothing’s going to happen because it’s obviously an old gift shop spell book (a really old, really big gift shop spell book), but all the half-burnt candles and chalk runes and hanging herbs around you are starting to freak you out.

Boyoung and Chae both shake their heads, while Rami reaches out and snatches your elbow. “This was the deal—one summoning spell, and then ten minutes by yourself. You agreed.”

You feel like crying.

You regret it. You regret coming. You didn’t like your aunt when she was alive—who gives their nieces and nephews cat whiskers and tinctures for birthdays?—and you certainly don’t like your cousin now—she clearly has a terrible idea of a good time—so why did you even come tonight?

At this point, you’re even wishing you can go back upstairs and ask the greasy frat boy to rescue you from your friends. They’re way too excited about leaving you locked in the creepy basement after a demonic invocation, whether they believe in it or not.

“Go ahead!” Chae nudges Boyoung. “Hurry up, I wanna go back upstairs.”

“It’s fucking creepy in here.” Rami agrees, rubbing her arms and jutting her chin towards the book.

“Why don’t we just do something else? Forget the basement.” You complain, starting to get back to your feet.

Predictably, Rami yanks you back down. “Rules are rules! Go ahead, Boyoung-ah.”

That’s how you find yourself sitting in a dark basement while your friend chants ominously in Latin, your heart racing like you’ve just run a marathon. Why did it have to be a demon summoning? Why couldn’t it have been a séance? At least if you were going to be playing around with pretend spiritualism, you could pretend to talk to someone you actually liked.

Your dad had died when you were little, you could pretend to have a tear-jerking reunion and then get the fuck out of that creepy old witch house once your friends were satisfied.

Why do you even call them your friends anyway?

You’re all just the members of a few too many group projects for your biology classes, more associates than anything else.

But Boyoung is still chanting, tripping over awkward pronunciation of the dead language and squinting through the faint light to see the faded text on the ancient pages.

You don’t think it’s your imagination when a whisper of air ruffles the hair at the back of your neck, but you’re also extremely anxious at the moment. So anxious that you physically jump when Boyoung slams the book shut.

“Done!” She chirps, hopping to her feet and dusting off the seat of her skirt. She fixes you with an evil grin. “Ten minutes by yourself!” Then she loops her arm through Chae’s and your three associates clamber back up the rickety stairs to the basement door.

Before they leave you, teary and trembling on the concrete floor, Rami pauses and looks back at you. “And no using your phone. If we see any light under the door, we’ll keep it locked for an extra ten minutes.”

It was a meaningless threat, because you know for sure they’re gonna go upstairs and get more drinks and find more friends, and you’re going to have to call your cousin to let you out after they forget about you.

So there you are. In the dark, in a creepy basement, all by yourself. You’re still sitting on the ground, cross-legged, your shaky hands gripping at your knees like it’s the only thing grounding you.

It’s just an empty basement.

It’s just you, by yourself.

You decide to close your eyes and focus on your breathing, counting the lengths of each inhale and exhale until the vague sounds of Boyoung’s invocation fades from your memory. You sit there, just breathing, urging the tension to melt from your muscles, until it feels like an eternity has passed.

The party is still in full swing on the floor above you, the music and laughter floating beneath the door down to you. You focus on the shouting voices until your spine relaxes.

When your eyes finally open and blink down at the bright screen of your phone, reading the giant numbers of the clock glaring back at you, you realize you’ve only been alone for three minutes.

Every ounce of tension returns, winding through the fibers in your muscles until it’s clamped around your bones and settled in the roots of your teeth. You’re still in a creepy witchy basement for another seven freaking minutes. As the darkness seems to physically seep into your skin, your gaze is sweeping the shadows of the room.

Bookshelves covered in spilled wax, random feathers, jars of little stones and dirt (hopefully dirt?), various crystals, tons of super old books, crates of more books, larger jars of plants and branches that you can’t begin to make sense of, and an aura that you can’t quite put your finger on.

You can’t say why you feel like you’re being watched, especially when you know you’re alone, but your heart is once again inexplicably racing in your chest.

There’s no one.

The shadow to your left is the marble bust of a saint or an angel or something, the one near your feet is the pile of musty blankets on an old wooden chair, the one straight ahead of you is the kettle that hangs from a frame over the ashy pit of a cold fireplace.

Honestly what the hell was your aunt up to before she died?

You bring yourself back, focusing on the cold concrete beneath your butt, the way your ankle is grinding into the floor, the cold that’s curling its fingers around your throat when your shirt slips off of one shoulder.

As you try to slip back into the calm refuge that you’d found with your eyes closed, desperate to not emerge from the pit of the basement with tear streaks of dust and mascara, all you can hear is your own breathing.

There’s no one in there with you, no one in the shadows, no one lurking behind the stairs.

Sucking in a deep breath, you hold it and listen to your heart pounding in your ears. It’s a trick you learned to calm yourself when you were young, counting to four between breaths. In the next few moments, you feel your body begin to relax and sink back into a neutral position.

Your lungs burn as you count to four for the tenth time.

The next exhale is loud.

And it is most decidedly not your own.

You shoot upright, hand snapping out to clutch at your phone. Fuck what Rami said, you need that flashlight. Tracking the shadows again as your sweat-slicked hands fight your thumbprint reader, eyes widely combing every inch of the dark room, you find yourself unable to peer past the blackness to see the source of the sound that made your heart flip.

Your phone just keeps shaking its “try again” message at you, stubbornly refusing to unlock.

Until you see them—and you realize that you’ve already been looking at them—your gaze landing on them a dozen times in the past thirty seconds, not even registering them.

Until they blink back at you.

Your fingers stomp your passcode in and swipe on the flashlight.

Cold white light floods the room, and he’s standing there, staring at you.

You scream, bundled nerves exploding your body backwards and you find yourself on your feet, scrambling back against a heavy bookshelf.

But he’s just standing there, watching you from the other edge of the chalk circle thing you were sitting on. His head is tilted slightly, sharp eyes hooded as he beholds you silently.

Your arm is practically spasming as you try to keep your light pointed at him and check all the walls and corners at the same time, your brain screaming at you to figure out where he came from. Where did he come from? There’s only one door in the basement, and it’s up the flight of stairs to your left.

“What the fuck?” You screech, your other hand scrambling for something—anything.

The man’s eyes narrow.

He’s not especially tall, but he’s lean and strong, dressed in all black, his raven hair curling over his forehead and neck. There’s something devilishly beautiful about him, about the honey of his skin and the flick of his tongue between his lips.

His eyes mimic yours, tracing you up and down, and his tongue flicks again. Then he opens his mouth and his chin twitches up, short locks of hair flipping away from his eyes. “You called?”

The sultry baritone of his voice floats to your ears with heavy, dangerous weight, and your fingers automatically clamp around the first thing you find. Before you can reason your way through your next decision, you hurl it—the book you’re suddenly holding—directly at his head.

The man flinches, knocking the book aside with the swipe of his hand, but doesn’t realize there’s a second one coming.

You’re pelting them as quickly as you can find them, yanking ancient (probably valuable) books off of the shelf, sending up plumes of dust everywhere, hurling them at the man as you edge your way towards the stairs. He’s standing between you and your exit and you’ll be damned (hopefully not literally) if you’re going to be sacrificed to a demon in your freaky aunt’s basement.

But then his voice reaches you with a completely different tone.

“Stop! Oh my god, stop!” He’s twisted away from you, his hands up covering his face. You see glimpses of his eyes gone impossibly wide, lips jutting out in a disbelieving pout, trying desperately to catch your gaze. He dodges another book and dances away from another. “Why are you—stop!—you called me!”

Another book strikes his shoulder and his pitch goes even higher.

“You literally called me! Stop!”

You stop.

He sounds so…offended that you’re battering him with books that you just plant yourself, clutching a heavy tome to your chest, gaping at him.

He takes a second to collect himself, smoothing down the sleek black jacket that wraps around his thick shoulders and falls snugly around his narrow waist.

Running a hand through his hair and shaking dust out of it, he gapes right back at you. “Do you know how rare it is for this to happen?” He demands, eyes still comically wide. “We don’t just come when called anymore! You—” He jabs a finger in your direction and you shriek, flinching. “Are lucky that I was curious!”

Your hope of coming out of this experience without wearing your mascara in crusted ribbons down your cheeks went out the window about fifteen books ago. “You…you’re…” You suck in a deep breath that sounds like it choked you all the way down. “You?”

The man glares at you, planting his hands on his hips. “You are unbelievably rude.” He decides, taking a step closer as though you aren’t literally hiding behind the giant book in your hands. “You reach through the veil to call upon a spiritual being in the year of our Lord, 2025, and when I answer the freaking phone you throw a library at me? This is why we don’t talk to you people anymore.”

But he doesn’t reach to touch you or attack you and stomp on your skull, so you lower the book away from your face ever so slightly.

He’s standing in front of you, arms crossed over his chest, a disappointed frown on his face.

You take a second to blink at him, a flood of tears trickling down your cheeks. There’s so much happening, so much shattering your entire perception of the universe right now, but there’s only one thing on your mind. “Did you just say ‘oh my god’?”

At your timid, whimpering voice, the demon’s eyes roll. “Are you serious right now?”

You flinch, stumbling back. “It’s just…” Your eyes wander and you mentally pinch yourself. But, honestly, he’s fucking gorgeous and your racing heart is making your head spin already. “You’re a demon?”

“Yeah, so?” He shoots back.

“So…” you swallow harshly. “God?”

This brings a smirk to his lips. “If you came down here to ask about God, I think you’ve got the wrong number.”

“I didn’t call you.” You argue, glancing behind you to make sure you aren’t going to be falling into a coffin or some other terrible thing that your aunt has hidden back there.

He looks confused. “You didn’t?” He glances around. “Someone did. It’s not like I can get the address wrong.”

“My friends called you.” There’s nowhere for you to go. You’re standing against the wall, mere feet away from a literal demon, and there’s nowhere you can run from him.

At the obviously otherwise empty basement, the demon raises his eyebrows at you. “Where are they?”

You shakily point towards the stairs as you slide down the wall to the floor. “At the party. It was a dare. A penalty for a dumb game—they were supposed to pretend to summon a demon with all of this weird shit and then I was supposed to stay down here for ten minutes by myself—they just wanted to scare me. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. Please just go away, I’ll never bother you, I swear.” You’re sobbing, completely overwhelmed, feeling completely exposed to this spiritual being as he watches you fall apart.

You’ve got the massive tome propped up on your lap, leaned against your forehead to shield yourself as you weep.

Do demons kill people?

Do they just possess people?

Are you going to go on from this night demon-possessed?

Are you supposed to pray or something?

Weight lifts from your bones as the tome is suddenly taken from you, and you blink past tears to see that the demon is crouched in front of you, dark strands of hair dancing with his eyelashes as he peers into your fearful face.

His gaze traces the trembling in your shoulders, your hands, your thighs, the rigid, bulging muscles in your throat and forearms as your body tightens with terror. When he speaks again, his deep voice is gentle. “Your friends summoned a demon and locked you in here by yourself?”

There’s nothing you can do but nod, wishing you hadn’t skipped your weekly phone call to your mom earlier. You wish you’d told her you love her, that you never meant to be possessed by a demon.

You see his hand lift and your eyes squeeze shut, a whimpering gasp rushing past your lips. If you get out of here alive, you’re burning down the basement and going to church.

But then his warm—feverishly hot, actually—fingertips glide over the wetness of your face, and his thumb is wiping at your tears. When your eyes snap open, he’s cupping your cheek in one hand but his eyes are black fire. “Stay here, baby, I’ll be right back.”

His touch disappears in a swirl of black smoke and he’s gone, vanished right before you like he was never there.

But your cheek is still throbbing from the heat of his palm, your heart thumping in your chest from the impact of his low voice.

Did he just call you baby?

All of that goes directly out of your mind because in the next second, you can hear enormous crashes of thunder above your head. The music from the party dies with an electric squeal that makes your ears sting, and then screams fill the air. The ceiling of the basement pounds and trembles with running footsteps from the floor above, furniture crashing and college students stumbling into things.

There’s a flicker from beneath the basement door, and then the light disappears.

The single bulb over your head goes out.

You scramble for your phone, turning the flashlight back on, heart hammering as you listen.

The screams begin to fade, sounding farther and farther away, until the house above you is completely silent.

Black smoke puffs in front of you and there he is again, the demon with the fire in his eyes.

The reflexive yelp that scratches up your throat is accidental, but it seems to douse the flames and the man’s gaze softens as he lowers himself to the floor, mimicking your folded-knees position. He lifts a hand and gestures to you, beckoning you closer.

Obviously you don’t move, terrified out of your mind. “What the hell did you just do?”

“I locked them in a room with me and scared them.” He shrugs. “It wasn’t as funny as they thought it was going to be. Your friends are assholes and I don’t think you should hang out with them anymore.” He tilts his head at you, his hand still extended. “I didn’t hurt them, I promise. They just ran away. As long as they stay away from you, they’ll be fine.”

You’re going to be completely honest with yourself, you didn’t have nearly enough wits about you to wonder if he’d gone up and slaughtered the whole bunch of them. But it’s nice that he didn’t, you guess.

“So.” He claps both hands to his knees. “This is a college party? I haven’t been to one of these in ages. Do you still play truth or dare?”

Your mouth falls open.

He scoots closer.

“Why as long as they stay away from me?” You’re grasping for understanding, wondering why you’re still on the filthy floor in the creepiest room you’ve ever found yourself in, staring at a demon who’s just asked you to play truth or dare.

The demon’s eyes narrow but his lips curl in a playful smirk. “Truth or dare, baby?”

You can’t help the shiver. Do you refuse to play? He’s a literal demon who can apparently call upon thunder and destroy sound and electrical systems and frighten the bejeezus out of an entire college party.

It stands to reason that playing the silly game is probably in your best interest.

“Truth.” The tiny whisper of your voice puts a flash of teasing disappointment in his eyes.

“Okay,” He says, and scoots even closer. “Are you grateful I made your friends piss themselves for you?”

A storm of emotions strike you. Are you grateful? Yeah, a little bit. It would have been hilarious to watch, now that you think about it. Are you confused as to why he did it? More than you can articulate. Would you have ever asked him to get revenge over a penalty that was supposed to be a joke? Honestly, probably not. Are you going to tell him that?

Hell to the no.

“Yes.” You swallow. “I’m grateful.”

He looks satisfied with your answer, with himself. “Good. Your turn. Ask me.”

You don’t want to ask him. You want to leave this house just like everybody else did, with your tail between your legs and your world changed forever—but alive. But you can’t. So you clench your fists and shed another round of tears. “Truth or dare?”

What would you even dare him to do?

“Dare,” He says devilishly, tongue flicking out to scrape his teeth. His eyes are mischief and intrigue, but they’re watching the trail of your tears with undeniable softness.

“I dare you…” Your voice chokes like a candle being blown out, and you struggle to get it back. “I dare you not to hurt me.” It’s pathetic. It’s laughably pathetic, but you’re scared beyond all reason and you need any kind of reassurance to keep you sane right now.

The teasing falls from his expression instantly, and a solemn stare levels with you. “I’m not going to hurt you. You’re safe with me, I swear it.” His hands twitch, he wants to wipe the tears from your face, but he won’t—not again—not until you’re not afraid of him anymore.

You could weep all over again from the sheer anxiety of it all. “Why? Why would I believe you? Why me?”

He just smiles. “It’s my turn. Truth or dare?”

You are absolutely not ready to take a dare from a demon. “Truth.”

“Tell me your name. I’m Jisung.”

Jisung is looking at you like you’re a harbinger of hope, and you suddenly wonder if your name is supposed to hold power. Does giving your name to a demon give him power over you? Should you lie? Do you keep it to yourself?

But he gave you his name. (Or did he lie?)

You tell him. You’re locked in a basement with him—he doesn’t need a magical connection to you to kill you. He could hurt you whenever he wants.

He says your name out loud and you flinch, waiting. But your blood doesn’t boil, your eyes don’t explode, your brain doesn’t leak out of your ears. Your name on his tongue gives you confidence though, like he’s acknowledged you on an existential level and now you can look him in the eyes.

“Truth or dare.”

“Truth.” He already knows you won’t dare him to do anything, not while your mind is still racing with questions.

“Tell me why I’m safe with you, Jisung.”

He blinks at the strength in your voice, at his name in your mouth. It’s so overwhelming, to hear his name spoken aloud, that he has to turn away from you. How long has it been since he’s heard it? A millennium? An eon? Has it ever sounded so warm before? He’s blinking back tears, coughing past an ache in his chest, scrambling to collect himself before he looks back at you.

He could tell you any number of things and they would be true, but would they be enough? You’re the first face he’s seen in decades. You’re the first person who’s looked at him in years. You’re the first person who’s said his name without hurling it like a curse against him. You didn’t beg for your life when he appeared, you apologized like you bumped into him at the supermarket. Because he keeps waiting to see what you’re going to do next, say next, if you’re going to hold his gaze again.

But how does he say that to you?

He settles on his first realization of you. “Because you didn’t use me.”

You’re confused, fear falling away from your face completely as you puzzle through that statement. “I didn’t use you?”

He nods towards the book of spells that holds his invocation. “People summon demons to make deals—to use our power for their own gain. If we answer a call, it’s with the understanding that we’re being summoned to be leeched off of. You’re the first human I’ve ever come to who didn’t want anything from me.” If his throat tightens as he says it, he blames it on a millennium of loneliness and not the swell of pity that floods your eyes.

So he clears his throat and plops his chin in both palms. “Truth or dare?”

You’re warming up now, leaning into the rawness of the open wound he just exposed to you, and you feel your cheeks heat. “Dare.”

He’s stunned, delighted, and he smiles. “Dare?”

You swallow thickly, avoiding his gaze, and nod. “Dare.”

Jisung leans forward on his knees and one hand, the other lifting to wipe the last of your tears, and he lingers there, hovering right next to you. “Make a deal with me.”

The words strike you with conflicting fear and excitement, your eyes wide as you stare at him. Radiating heat from his skin kisses your face, feeding the blush on your cheeks. “But you just said—”

“It’s my deal,” He interrupts. “My terms with you.”

You don’t know whether to be scared or interested, but you have few options in the way of reactions. “What are the terms?”

“Summon me again.” He says simply. “Whenever you want to. Regularly. And I’ll protect you.”

You’re gaping directly into his face now, utterly baffled and not at all afraid. “Protect me from what?”

Jisung shrugs and lowers himself back into a seated position, this time so close that his knees are touching yours. “Anything, really. But there is the reality that once you’ve reached through the veil, there are traces of you on my side of it as well. Your presence is known now, you might be vulnerable to things from the other side.”

“Things?” You repeat. “What kinds of things?”

He frowns, like he doesn’t want to tell you. “Demons, spirits, the fallen. But I’ll protect you from all of them. They might not find you, they might not care—but if they do, I’ll be there.”

This is so much worse than a stupid prank demon summoning. “Why? Why would you make this deal?”

He smiles at you then, and it’s the most vulnerable he’s looked so far. “There’s not much in the way of goodness where I’m from. I miss it.”

“Goodness?” You repeat, frowning.

“You.” He says, reaching out and flicking your knee lightly. “Friendship. Smiles. Warm touch. Laughter. Shit—” He breaks off and turns his head away and you think you see him wiping wetness away from his own eyes. When he looks at you again, you almost think you had imagined it. “Give up your stupid ass friends and take me instead.”

You’re stunned; floored; flabbergasted. One of those weird hawk feathers on the bookshelves could knock you right over. “Jisung?” What do you even say to that?

He heaves a massive sigh and both of his hands curl over your knees. You don’t mind. You honestly don’t mind. Even if you know better than to trust him all at once, you don’t mind the way he’s touching you—the way he’s looking at you.

If he’s trying to trick you into some kind of possession, grooming you to be some kind of slave, you don’t know. You’re terrified that you’re being taken in by the most beautiful sad eyes you’ve ever seen, but right now you’re stuck.

He’s still watching you, eyes hooded and hoping, and you give a nod. “Okay. Deal.”

His fingers tighten around your knees and you would be terrified at the feeling of being caught in his grasp if it weren’t for the gaping grin that spreads across his face like you’ve just told a child he can go to Disney World.

“Is there some kind of blood pact we have to do to settle the deal? A contract?” You ask nervously, hoping you know which of the dozens of the books on the floor holds the invocation. “What if I summon the wrong demon on accident?”

“Just add my name to the invocation, I’ll come.” He says, and the smile on his face is addictive.

“You’ll come just because I call?”

Jisung squeezes your knees. “If you call me, I’ll come. And promise me you’ll ditch those assholes that locked you down here.” He pulls you closer to him, eyebrows lowering in earnest. “If any demon other than myself had answered, you could have come out of this experience very differently. I don’t want you around any more of their idiotic ideas.”

You laugh then, finally, and he stares at you in awe. “I promise.”

The demon straightens, satisfied, and then he’s extending one hand to you, which you willingly take this time. “The deal seals with a kiss. There’s no fine print, not for you. You have my word—regardless of what you think a demon’s word is worth.”

He has a point, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. You let him pull you to your feet, you help him find the spell book and tear the page out, slipping it into your pocket like you’ve just gotten his phone number.

When he circles back to you, he doesn’t look so dangerous anymore. “Are you ready?”

You’re nervous, still doubting what may come of your future, but you’re not scared right now. Instead, you nod, and let his warm hands tilt your chin up. You see the black flames ignite in his eyes once again, just before Jisung presses a searing kiss to your lips and fire shoots down your body.

It’s a simple kiss, as simple as pushing a stamp into a wax seal, but when he leans back to observe the heat blooming across your cheeks, your mind is gone. You feel his forehead touch yours, the whisper of his breath on your skin, the burning impact of his next words, but you’re only barely keeping up.

Because you definitely no longer regret coming to this party, or losing that stupid drinking game.

“You’re mine now, baby,” Jisung whispers against your cheek, and flashes you a wink. “Just call me and I’m yours.”

@whatdoyouwanttocallmefor @estella-novella @babyphotos0325 @softfor-svtptg @furfoxsake22 @tubelightanyaa @kayleefriedchicken @rockstarkkami @sp1derst0rrr @eastjonowhere @its-stayville-forever @allenajade-ite @naraportokala @jinniejjam @blackberryrains @feetoffthemalfoy @highandalive @scarlet789 @ramadiiiisme @thecutiepieme @lemonn015 @p0is0ned-peach

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[charrlote365]

The Fox's Roulette.

Reference Idol: fromis_9 LEE SAEROM Word Count: 15.798 Tags: Romance, pits, Kpop idol, fromis_9, Lee Saerom

PART 1 The neon lights from street flickered through the window, casting a yellow ray across the polished counter of my bar(PIC 1). The bar has already closed but I was not quite finish working yet, because tonight, my regular customer, also a close friend was visiting. Fate indeed works in a mysterious way, I never thought owning and working in a bar would give me a chance to have a KPOP idol as a friend. Saerom, the leader of fromis_9(PIC2), honored my humble establishment as her first choice to have her favorite activity: Drinking.

Saerom and I had formed a friendship over the years. Despite her celebrity status, she found happiness and comfort in my small bar, away from the spotlight world. I knew her even before we were friends, because after all, I was also a Flover, and you don't have to guess who is my ult bias. It's her. Thankfully she didn't know about this, so we can have a comfortable chit chats. I always know that she was a shy soul, despite of her sharp glares on performances.

As the late night seeping through, the empty glasses were pilling up, yet Saerom's laughter filled the air. She looked happier than usual(PIC3), her cheeks flushed with the warmth of the alcohol. I watched her with a mixture of amusement and concern, knowing she had drunk a bit too much than usual.

"Hey, Saerom," I said, leaning against the counter. "You've had quite a few tonight. Maybe it's time to call it a night?"

Saerom pouted, raising a glass filled with beer high up, her gaze unfocused(PIC4). "But I don't wanna go home yet. I drove here by myself, so I can't drive back home now. You don't want anything bad happen to me, your biggest spender, do you?? bad bad bartender.. hehe..hiccups. Hey, can't I just stay here with you?"

PART 2 I can't believe what I just heard. "What did she just say?!!", I shouted loud in my heart. I hesitated, torn between my duty as a caring friend and the unspoken rules of propriety both as a fan and decent human being. But it seems the devil has won this time, I just can't let go this chance, to spend the night together with my most beloved person on earth, Lee, Saerom.

"Yeah, yeah, alright," I relented with a smile. "You can stay, but only if you promise not to cause too much trouble."

Saerom grinned, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "I promise."

As the night deepen, Saerom and I settled into our usual spot by the tinted window. The conversation flowed effortlessly between us, filled by laughter and personal stories.

"Hey," she said hesitantly, her voice was swaying around. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course," I replied, trying to guess why the sudden change of mood.

Saerom hesitated for a moment, her gaze fixed on the swirling liquid in her glass as if searching for the right words. "Are you… a fan of our group?"

Panic gripped me as I struggled with the secret I kept. I wondered why she asked that so suddenly. But with a deep breath, I looked her in the eye and confessed, letting honesty flow from within.

"Yes," I admitted, the word slipping out before I could stop it. "I am."

Saerom's eyes widened in surprise. "Really? I had no idea."

"Well, I'm glad that you do. At least I know you like us as a KPOP group, I think we're not doing that bad afterall", she said with a giggle yet with a slight hint of sadness.

"So! Next question! Who do you like the most in fromis?" Saerom asked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

I felt my heart skip a beat, panic rising in my chest. I hadn't expected her to ask that now, and now my secret admiration for her was on the brink of being exposed. I searched for words, trying to think what answer should I give.

"Well, um…" I stammered, rubbing the back of my neck nervously. "Honestly, it's you."

Saerom's eyes widened in surprise, and for a moment, I feared I had crossed a line. But then, a warm smile spread across her face, and she leaned in closer, she put her hand on mine.

"Really? You don't need to lie to me" she asked softly, her voice filled with genuine excitement.

I nodded quickly, feeling the tension ease. "Yeah, I swear. I'm dead serious."

"What about me? Why am I your favorite?" she asked while closing her eyes with a gentle smile on her face, waiting for me to spill all her good qualities.

"It's how you're so talented and dedicated, yet still so humble. You have incredible stage presence, but you're also kind and down-to-earth. And then your smile always lights up the room and makes everyone around you feel special. You have this way of making people feel seen and appreciated. That's what makes you my favorite, and also to be honest, I really like your visual"

Saerom's eyes softened, and she squeezed my hand gently. "Aww you're making me shy now but thank you," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "That means a lot to me."

"Hey," she began, a playful smile tugging at her lips. "I have an idea. Wait here."

Before I could ask what she meant, she stood up from her chair and disappeared into the back room where she'd left her bag. A few moments later, she returned, holding a neatly folded outfit.

"I brought my idol outfit from last performance," she explained, her cheeks tinged with a faint blush. "I thought… maybe I could change into it. As a thank you. For being such a great friend and fan."

I blinked, taken aback by her unexpected offer. "Are you sure? You don't have to do that."

Saerom nodded, her smile widening. "I want to. Just give me a minute."

With that, she went into the restroom, leaving me to process the surreal turn of events. My heart raced with anticipation as I imagined her in the dazzling outfit I'd only seen if I went to the stage.

PART 3 A few minutes later, the door creaked open, and Saerom stepped out. She was a vision in her idol attire, the sparkling white dress catching the light and casting a radiant glow around her. She struck a playful pose, clearly enjoying the moment(VID 1).

"So," she said, twirling her body slightly, "what do you think?"

I was frozen. She always look amazing, but able to see her up close in her idol mode hit different. "You look amazing," I finally managed to say something, my voice filled with admiration. "Thank you, Saerom, This means a lot for me."

"I'm glad you like it," she said softly. "I had wanted to do something special for you anyways". "Btw, I feel a lil bit bored, let’s play a game,” she suggested, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Roulette. But with cards. We’ll guess if it’s black or red. Whoever wins gets to ask the loser to do a truth or dare.”

I raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “A little risky, don’t you think?”

She giggled, “That’s the fun part! Besides, you can’t back out now. your beloved Saerom has challenged you! hehe”

I couldn’t resist her playful challenge. I Grabbed a deck of cards from behind the bar, I shuffled them thoroughly and folded one card in half, placing it in front of us. Saerom watched with focus, although I knew she was absolutely drunk like a drunk overworked old man.

“Ladies first,” I said, gesturing to the card.

“Red,” she declared confidently.

I unfolded the card—black. She groaned dramatically, throwing her head back. “Alright, bartender. Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” I replied, not wanting to waste my chance.

She leaned closer, her alcohol reeked warm breath against my nose. “so my Master, what is you first command?", she said jokingly.

PART 4 I chuckled, while thinking. "May I take pictures of you tonight?". She slightly tilted her head back, "Is that all? I don't have to do anything?". "Yes, that's enough for now", I answered while taking my first picture of her on that night (PIC 5). She looked very gorgeous, her eyes are beautiful, and I couldn't believe it that I was the only person her eyes are looking at for the whole night.

We continued the game. This time my turn. “Black.”

Saerom’s eyes twinkled as she unfolded the card—red. She clapped her hands in delight. “Yes! Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” I said, feeling a bit excited.

Her eyes scanned the empty bar, almost like checking if we're really alone, then returned to me with a sudden foxy smile. “I dare you..to show me your kinks through action, you can't back down now! haha!”

I was frozen. "A-are you crazy? I think you drank too much". "No..I'm not joking..", she replied. I looked deep into her eyes trying to confirm her decision, and it seemed she's excited about it. With that, I then asked her to raise her arms, exposing her milky, foldy pits that I love so much(PIC 6). Feeling a bit shy, I closed my eyes then moved my head closer to her pits, the scent of her perfume mixed with her sweat becoming more pronounced. They smelled sweet, almost flowerily. She tilted her arms back slightly, giving me better access, and my heart raced as I put my nose right on her pits and breathed in the delicate smell from her. I lost myself from her scent that I kissed her pits and licked them. She giggled slightly from the tickle yet didn't say anything. I kept continuing kissing and licking her pits, savoring the slightly salty, sweet and sour taste of her foldy pits meat and fat. The scent, the warmth of her pits filling my tongue, emitting an intimate taste that made my heart beats faster. Her hair brushed against my cheek, and I could feel the slight rise and fall of her breath. The world outside the bar seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of us in this moment.

PART 5 Regaining my consciousness, I realized I had gone too far. "I-I'm, sorry! I think I got carried away!"

She smiled shyly , her eyes were like she's in absolute intoxication, her breath was uncontrollable from what I just did to her, “It's okay, that was fun, I kinda enjoyed it”, she said with a giggle, her voice was gentle.

Alright, Round three. Saerom guessed red again, and this time she got it wrong again. She didn’t hesitate. “Truth or dare?”, I asked.

“Dare,” she said, feeling bold after what just happened.

She leaned in, her voice barely above a whisper. “So what do you want me to do?”, while looking sweetly to me.

I paused, considering. I must have gone crazy that time, because my very next request, was asking her to take off her clothes.

Saerom raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised. She hesitated for a moment, then smiled, accepting the challenge. She held up her hands and began to slowly taking off her white dress, one finger at a time, clamping down her dress hook, then her bra, and lastly, her nipple pads. Her movements were deliberate and almost mesmerizing. I have never seen a woman undressing in front of me, let alone someone that I adore very much. Flovers keep calling her fox, but what I see she's more like a swan, every gestures she made was so satisfying to see, she almost like a ballerina, gentle and grand.

Her nipple pads came off, revealing her breast. I have never been so intimate to anyone in my life, yet right now I finally able to get into the hidden part of her personal world. I couldn’t take my eyes off her as she neatly folded the dress and bras and set them aside.

“There,” she said, her eyes twinkling with a mix of challenge and shyness. “I'm nude now. Happy?” (PIC 7)

“Very much,” I replied, my heart beating faster, I couldn't even blink, my eyes are locked onto her breasts. There was something about seeing her like this, more relaxed and natural, that made the moment even more special. I gulped, while holding myself from doing anything stupid.

Round four. I guessed black, and won. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” I said, my confidence somehow went unwavering.

I grinned, leaning closer to her. “Now, I dare you to make me as your lover tonight”.

PART 6 Without missing a beat, Saerom stood up, with bare naked body. Without a single word, she came to me and sat on my lap, facing me so closely. She kissed my lips, we ate each other lips and tongue like its a alcohol laced lollipop, it was sweet, sticky, intoxicating and I couldn't get enough of it. I was overwhelmed with all the feelings. Love, Lust and sense of loyalty filled my head all at once. She let out a little moan as I started to kiss her neck. I teased her by gently groped her breasts. she let out a little groan again, only turning me on more. I slowly started to kiss her down her chest, on her tits, sucking on her nipples. I kissed down to her tummy, while gripping hard on her thighs, then removed her underpants. I carried her on my shoulder like she was a doll. Her bare skin pressed against my chest and shoulder, they were so soft yet tender. Her body is truly the epitome of health. I laid her down on a sofa I had in the bar and I spread her legs out for me. I could see her bare pussy, open wide for me, they're perfectly shaved, with small labia and slightly pinkish. Some transparent liquid was oozing out from the precious hole, they looked almost like its begging me start stick in something into it.

I licked all the love juice that was oozing out, swallowed it, and gently bit her clit as she let out another moan. She was too perfect, too much of a goddess. she deserved the best this world could offer. My feelings to her has grown from a friend, to a fan and now the only thing I want in the world is to spend the rest of my life with her. I love her, I love her so much I could die at any moment. She started to moan louder as I licked and sucked hard. I put my fingers in her entrance and started pumping my 2 fingers into her at the same time. I curled up my fingers, making sure to hit her g-spot every time. I thrusted hard while my other hand rubbing her clit fast. I sucked her breast again, making sure all her sensitive parts are teased. Her breath hitched and she started to moan louder and finally her body convulsed wildly as she finally came. that's all I needed to know i was doing a good job. I used my hand to hold on to her hips and arched her body forward, so that we're now facing each other very closely.

PART 7 Her eyes met mine, we exchanged our breath from very close proximity and for a moment, the world seemed to pause. We then shared a kiss, turning all of our emotions into physical contact. Now that she knows I love her pits, I asked her if I could rub my dick onto her pits. She was shyly hesitant at first but she could not refuse it. She then sat on the floor raising her hands up while I stick my dick's tip on her pit fold and started rubbing it all over her pits(PIC8). I could feel the texture and the warmth from her lymph node, her pits actually enclaved deep enough to enclose my whole dick's tip. Fckkk suddenly I felt was going to come but I managed to hold it. I then moved to her back and asked her to squeeze my dick with her pits and inner arms like a sandwich. I knew she does workout regularly and that explained why her arms felt tight like a pussy. I rubbed my dick into her pits slits faster and faster, her sweat and my pre-cum made her pits extra wet and slimy as she clamped down even tighter and let out a moan "emmwahh", her moan was so cute that I finally couldn't hold it, "Ahh!! Saerom ahh!!" I spurted out my cement all over her pits and breast. My heart beat so fast that it could stop any moment and I was so lightheaded I thought I would faint, I have never felt so weak yet completed and happy in my life.

After that, she borrowed my bathroom to take a shower, while I cleaned up the mess we made on the bar's floor. When she was finished, she came out still fully naked, sitting on the bar's chair asking for a glass of scotch. "Really? more drinks??" I was baffled. "Of course! Drinking is number one!" with a smirk on her face(PIC 9). Looking at her breasts suddenly made my dick standing hard rock again, and it was clearly visible to her. Suddenly, she smiled naughtily and whispered, "Hey, wanna go another roulette round after this?" -End

[soft-girl-musings]

Stranger Danger

Steven Grant x Fem!Reader

cross-posted to ao3

MK Spring Bingo entry #5

tags: reader is being stalked & responds in a way the author (a woman) has been taught to, emotional protector steven grant to the rescue, no use of y/n

wc: 1,138

fic summary: There's safety in numbers, do you want mine? (too soon?)

_____________________

“Oops, careful!”

Steven drops the last of his veggie wrap as a pair of kids rush past the bench he’d been hunched over. As he picks up the debris, he sees where one of them dropped their hat. He picks it up and half-jogs after them to return it.

“Gotta stay aware of our surroundings, yeah? Don’t want to lose our valuables.” The kid rolls their eyes but thanks him before running off to catch up with their friend.

“Oh my gosh, hi!”

Steven turns around to find you walking swiftly toward him, your smile too wide and tone too familiar.

He’s never seen you before.

“... hello,” he answers cautiously, taking one step back but failing to put much distance between the two of you. You practically cling to his side when you approach, takeaway cup and phone in hand.

“Sorry I’m late, but you are terrible at giving directions, mister.” Taking his arm, you begin to walk away from where you’d appeared.

This wouldn’t be the first time he’s forgotten conversations or plans. But as he racks his brain for something, anything tied to you in his memory, Steven notices the panic in your eyes and the slight waver in your voice.

Your hands shake a bit as you unlock your phone, passing your cup to him. He takes it, still bewildered but obedient. “I swear, the cafe never spells your name right. Let me make a note for next time.” You type swiftly, showing him the screen.

being followed, please pretend you're my boyfriend

Steven doesn’t know you.

But he nods, grasping your arm closer with his free hand and gives his most convincing grin. “Steven with a ‘V’, love.”

Relief instantly washes over your features and you relax a little. “Right. I’ll remember that… Steven.”

His smile grows before he remembers why you're holding onto him. “Do you want to sit down? Or go somewhere else, maybe I could call someone–”

“N-no, it’s fine. Let’s just sit. In plain sight,” you half-whisper. Steven nods, ushering you back to the bench in the middle of the busy square. When you sit, you don't let go of his arm.

Instead, you type into your phone as you speak. “Lovely weather we’re having, isn’t it?” Steven glaces at your notes app again.

do you see a man in a black jacket?

Steven scans the area, careful not to look too suspicious. Unlike the person he’s sure you’re referring to: a man in dark clothes, hands shoved into his pockets and rigid as he looks around with increasing urgency. His prominent frown grows when he sees Steven next to you.

“Yeah,” Steven says to both your questions. He looks away from the menacing figure, but sets your drink down and wraps his arm around you. He's glad to feel you settle into his side, still shaking but catching your breath.

“I take it you don’t know Mr. Black Jacket?”

“No, I do. Sort of. He’s a regular customer of mine,” you sigh. “One who doesn’t know how to take ‘no’ for an answer.”

“Ah.” Steven keeps the guy in his periphery, splitting his focus between him and you. “Stalker, then?”

You freeze up at the term. “Yeah… he’s been pretty relentless.” 

You meet his eyes, which are swiftly filling with concern. “Thanks again for… this. I usually find a mom or another woman to walk with me until he leaves, but I saw you with those kids and just… panicked, I guess.”

“S’not a problem, love.” Steven knocks your foot with his, drawing a small smile from you. “Glad to help you feel safe.”

You laugh a little. You let your gaze drift over to the man in black, an uneasy pit growing in your stomach when you briefly make eye contact.

“He usually goes away after a while. I've told the police, but they can't do anything unless he… you know.” Your brow furrows as your grip loosens. “I don't mean to take over your afternoon, but would you mind waiting with me?”

In that moment, you could have asked Steven for the moon and he'd find a way to lasso it down for you. 

He squeezes your hand. “‘Course I can. Lovely day with lovely company, quite the ideal afternoon in my books.” 

Steven dives right into talking about anything and everything that comes to mind– which, as you learn, is a lot. Normally he'd hit a wall after a few minutes, either because he'd realized he had talked himself in circles, or his less-than-captive audience was visibly zoned out. But you hang on his every word, grateful to be arm in arm with a stranger describing the supposed viscosity of ancient Egyptian embalming oil. It's a welcome distraction. 

So distracting, in fact, that after an hour you realize the crowd has thinned around you. With Mr. Black Jacket nowhere in sight.

“I think he's gone,” you sigh with relief. Steven stands when you do, handing your things back.

“Patience won out in the end,” he beams. You see a brief look of panic cross his features.

“He doesn't know where you live, does he? Do you need an escort?” Steven's already taken a ludicrously long lunch break, but the inevitable lecture from Donna would be worth it if it meant ensuring your safety.

You shake your head. “I've been careful.” Extending your hand, you smile. “It was nice to meet you, Steven with a ‘V’.”

“Likewise, love.” He shakes your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Another look crosses his face before he continues.

“Do you want my mobile number?” His words come out too fast; if you hadn't spent the past hour listening to him, you might have missed what he said. “Just in case you need someone to wait with you again, or keep an eye out. Would that be alright?” He shakes his head, stepping back. “'Matter of fact, forget I said anything, don't want you to think you've traded one creep for another–”

“Sure.”

Your simple answer stops him in his tracks. “Oh, you don’t have to–”

“No, it’s fine. Really. When you offered, it felt nice to know someone could be in my corner on this side of town.”

You take out a scrap of paper and a pen from your bag. “How about this: you write it down, and I’ll add your contact if I ever need my knight in shining armor again.”

Steven concedes, pen and paper in hand as he scribbles his number down (then asks for a new paper in case the first was too illegible).

When you leave, he watches until you turn the corner. He goes the opposite direction, back to the museum. Part of him hopes you’ll never have to reach out, for your own sake. The rest of him hopes you do anyway.

_____________________

A/N: oh steven, the man that you are. a couple more bingo prompts will be focused on this dude, which is excellent practice for some exciting projects down the line...

as always, ty for reading <3

event tags: @moonknight-events @spacecowboyhotch @juneknight

addtl tags: @mrs-lockley @lunar-ghoulie @shadystarlightgentlemen @casa-boiardi @nerdieforpedro (lmk if you'd like to be added to/removed from this wee tag list)

[adnauseum11]

Restricted Operating Zone (John Price x Reader)

Kate has a job offer for John.

850 words

CW: swearing, reference to oral sex

Kate considers it lucky that John is about as relaxed as she’s ever seen him, because he’s not going to be pleased when she delivers the lines she’s been asked to say. John’s a pro, surely, he knows how it goes. Kate’s orders aren’t her own half the time, and often not a first choice. 

“You’re looking better every time I see you, John, still having fun in retirement?”

John nods slowly, a flicker of something crossing his face before he replies. 

In a split second he’s called forth an image in his mind’s eye of his love, her leg thrown over his shoulder and fingers tangled in his hair while he knelt before her in the shower. Her head thrown back as she cried out into the steamy room. She had given him shit over making her cum that hard before work, which had made him laugh. She would be back by now, rattling around alone in that drafty, shitty place she was calling home for the moment.  

“Yeah, you could say that.” He plays a card and leans back, observing her. “Any particular reason you mention it?” He may be out of work but his senses are still keen to corporate grade bullshit. 

“We’ve been having issues with an objective-“

“Oh hell –“

“Just hear me out John” Kate’s trying to get a word in edgewise but John’s not entertaining it.

“No, I don’t need to hear what you’re gonna say. The answer is no.”

Kate sighs, knowing it would go this way and yet, she still has a job to do. She presses on, pushing her luck as much as she dares. She waits a few extra beats to play her card – both literally and figuratively - not because she is unsure, but because she needs John to settle. It works and the anger bleeds out of his eyes, replaced with the cold calculating look she’s more intimately familiar with. 

“They’re offering a wildly lucrative contract. It’s a highly sensitive mission, small task force, Gaz is available and will sign on if you do. An intercept and collect. Exfil already lined up. Just need a signature on the dotted line.”

“Laswell, I’m going to get you a hearing aid for your next birthday. No.”

“John, I wasn’t authorized to accept ‘No.’ This needs to happen, or shit gets hairy on a global scale. Hence the price tag. One last job and you can set up shop with your little missus. I’m guessing you two are still seeing each other?”

The mention of John’s love in the same breath as work makes him clench his cards. His focus narrows onto Laswell, and she has the presence of mind to be uncomfortable with his sudden laser focused attention.

“What did you just say?” There’s a very real threat of menace in his tone.

“Hey – ho. This is a friendly card game, folks. Kate, don’t talk shop at the card table.” Kate’s wife attempts to intercede, placing her own cards down and looking from guest to guest with concern. 

Every invited guest around the table has worked with Kate, and understand the implications of the work. None have worked as long or as closely with Kate as John, and even retired he’s a leader. All eyes swing to Kate to see how she will react. 

“I never see him anymore unless it’s here at cards.” Kate says by way of defence, petulant even in the face of a pissed off John Price. “All I’m saying is it would be nice to start a new life with a nest egg, is all. What if she gets sick?” Her tone is innocent but John sees red.

Kate’s wife is shaking her head in warning, but Kate is too bullheaded to take the advice on. 

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t want to see you unless we’re playing cards, Kate.” John responds coolly, folding the cards in his hands flat against the table. “I served my time. I’m moving on with my life. Don’t mention her again, that’s a warning.” His big frame is sitting fully upright now, the loose-limb posture he’d been in since he’d arrived evaporating. 

“You’ve got 96 hours to decide John, or the offer disappears.”

“I don’t need any hours to decide, Laswell, ‘cause I won’t be attending your latest clusterfuck. In fact, I’m not going to attend this poker game.” John throws what could have been a winning hand on the table and stands abruptly.   

“John, there’s no need – “ 

Kate’s backpedaling, realizing she’s overstepped far too late. 

“I’ll see you in a few weeks. In the meantime, don’t contact me.” 

John tucks the chair back into place with way more force than necessary, spilling Kate’s drink as it collides with the frame of the table.

“Jesus Christ Kate – “ 

Her wife is wide-eyed, staring at her with disappointment as John yanks his coat from a peg, slamming the door on his way out.

“Shit.” Kate curses, holding her dripping cards up.

“Did that go how you hoped? Maybe listen to your wife next time.”

Taglist:

@deadbranch @beebeechaos

Next Chapter

[zumicho]

blueprints — two : wallpaper

one three main masterlist

cw: argument, angst (lol), religious references, flawed characters

between you and him: normalcy is nonexistent. the arguments aren’t heated enough to call for making amends, yet there’s a suffocating presence of wrong. an unwelcome thickness in the air that swallows the very life of your relationship, stabbing daggers at what once was.

‘you say it’s complicated, to make amends — well is that the way, that we’re headed then?’

there’s a different hurt to a betrayal that you know is coming.

“beige or paper-white?” keiji’s voice jerks you into the present.

you don’t recall how you ended up here, at the local wallpaper shop, rummaging through the ‘neutrals’ section, with the last person you’d expect. there’s a cryptic message in his gaze that you fail to decipher. he's waiting for you to respond.

“blue.”

a pause, followed by a resigned sigh. “can you take me seriously?”

“I am serious, keiji. I like the blue.”

“the blue displayed in the children’s section?” his brows scrunch.

“when will you stop letting everyone else’s view dictate your perspective?” you snap. “why do you care so much what they think?”

“I’m starting to think this isn’t just about wallpaper.”

you’d never guess that someone who wants to build houses for a living was scared of creating a home.

“it isn’t.” you’re crying. “it’s about how you refuse to try.” the tears are pathetic. because they won’t change anything. nothing will change how he thinks. they’re pathetic because they’re wasted on a situation that will stay the same regardless of what you say or do. “It’s about how I don’t matter enough — for you to try at all.”

the call of your name cuts the flashback short.

he’s crossing the room. three strides, till your face is buried into his shoulder, staining the royal blue sweater you bought him on his birthday. your nails dig into his forearms — an overwhelming sense of if I let go I lose you. akaashi’s holding on just as tight.

“I’m not ready for a house, love.”

“don’t call me that.”

“I’m trying to make this easier. on the both of us.” only the falter in his tone allows you to notice the fatigue weighing down on his shoulders, evident in the dark circles under his eyes. you don’t pity him. you should, but the anger outweighs it.

“easier on the both of us, or on you?”

“would you believe me if I said you do matter? that I’m ready to try?”

you take his words and squeeze them into an IV bag, letting it flow through your bloodstream, letting them marinate and seep deep into your brain.

his patience was slipping. “I don’t know what you want me to say. you want me to understand you, but you refuse to step into my shoes. have you considered that I’m scared?” akaashi stumbles over the last word. “talking to you is walking on eggshells.”

‘it takes strength to forgive, but I don’t feel strong.’

you lost grip of yours. “don’t yell at me for walking on eggshells you placed in this relationship.” is this how Jesus felt? when he knew Judas would betray him, and loved him nevertheless?

akaashi read the question off your face.

do you want to end this?

to your relief, he shook his head.

“how do you break up with someone who has half your soul,

and all of you?”

© froyaoya all rights reserved.

a/n: ness if u see this u brought me back into my NIKI phase. lol this fic is just my new vent medium so I’m sorry if it’s incomprehensible, messy, all of the above. proofreading tmr

tags @causenessus @wyrcan @greninjafan5000 @aliensstolemyheart @nursedflowers @whosmiadotcom @cr4yolaas @jeoo-saw @httpsivy @cnnmairoll @yenonnoff @phoenix-eclipses @tobiosluvr @rory-cakes @frvppe @mollyrolls @miyamoratsumuu @hyenagoated @mitskicain

[brokebonewritings]

It's Always Been Us

Matt Murdock x Reader

Tags: 18+, Fluff, Getting Together, Mentions of Alcohol

Summary: Matt retells a story of a night you haven't thought about for a long time. Song: Paul Rudd by Claud

Word Count: 1.4K

Navigation | Series Masterlist

Laughter filled the small space of your apartment. Not only of your and Matt’s but of your cousin visiting for dinner. Peter had called the day prior insisting on joining you both for dinner. Of course, you had no qualms and Matt enjoyed the younger man’s company just as much.

The current conversation was fixed on how you had pinned for Matt throughout college. Now that you were together, all the waiting and pining seemed worth it. You looked over at Matt and felt your heart swell with love.

"No way you were that in love." Peter chided.

You blushed and rolled the fork against the plate. "I mean, I wouldn't say I was in love or anything."

"I remember the night you almost confessed." Matt's voice flowed calmly through the air.

You and Peter both look towards your boyfriend. Your eyebrows were already raised with surprise, "What?"

"Oh yes! I have to hear this story!" Peter said, earning a chuckle from Matt.

"Well for starters, I have to preface that we were in college and being under the influence was a highlight of our weeks."

"Matt! Don't tell him that!" 

Peter shushes you, leaning on the table fully invested in the storytime. You roll your eyes, but can't help the small smile that tugs at the corners of your mouth. You remember that night vividly, the one Matt is referring to.

Walking down the steamed sidewalk, Foggy was leading the way to ‘the most incredible party of the year’. You had worried that both you and Matt would be overwhelmed by the amount of people, however he insisted it would be a small get together. Oftentimes it was not in fact a small get together. 

“How did you even find out about this get together?” You questioned. 

“I have my sources. Just like a magician, I will never share my secrets.” He said, swinging his arms happily in front of you.

“Is he doing that cartoon character walk again?” Matt asked beside you. 

You giggled quietly. “How did you know?”

“Lucky guess.” He responds, and you catch a glimpse of the small smile that danced across his face.

Foggy shoved his hands in his pockets as he listened to you and Matt conversing. “Okay fine! I heard an upperclassmen talk about it, and said it was an open door to everyone.”

“Aha! I knew something seemed weird about this. We’re crashing a party!” 

As the three of you made your way into the party, you were met with a sea of people, music blaring at full volume, and the smell of alcohol filling the air. You had never been a big party person, but feeling Matt’s grip on your arm tightened reminded you of why you decided to come. 

You stuck close to Matt as you navigated through the crowd, your heart pounding with excitement and nerves. The pulsating music seemed to vibrate through your entire body, and you couldn't help but feel a thrill at the chaos surrounding you.

Foggy was quick to disappear into the crowd, eager to make new acquaintances and revel in the party spirit. After what felt like an eternity, you reached a less crowded area near a makeshift bar.

You can see the way his jaw tightens and the noise in the house gets louder. It wasn't often that you saw him in such crowded and chaotic environments, but tonight was different. Tonight was about letting loose and having fun.

"Is everything okay?" you ask, leaning closer to him to be heard over the music.

Matt tilts his head towards you, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his features. "Yeah, it's just... a lot. But I'm glad I'm here with you."

"Awe Murdock, Am I growing on you?"

"You can certainly say that" His chuckle soft in your ear.

His words warm your heart, and you squeeze his hand reassuringly. "Well you just stick with me, okay? Just focus on me and let the rest of the world fade away."

He nods gratefully, taking a sip of his drink before turning his attention back to you. The noise and commotion around you both fade into the background as you engage in deep conversation, sharing stories, laughter and drinks.

After a few more drinks, you decide to guide Matt to a worn-out couch tucked away in a corner, granting some respite from the overwhelming atmosphere. As you settled onto the couch, Matt's hand found its way to the small of your back, his touch grounding you amidst the chaotic energy.

The two of you sat close together, your bodies pressed against each other as you leaned into his warmth. The music continued to pulse through the air, but in this moment, it was nothing more than a distant hum.

"I'm really glad we came tonight," you confessed as you fidget with your cup. 

You couldn't help but feel a surge of affection for him. There were so many layers to Matt, so much strength and vulnerability intertwined within him. And in moments like these, when he allowed himself to let go and simply be, you felt privileged to witness that side of him.

Leaning in closer, you captured his lips in a tender kiss. It started slow and gentle, a sweet exploration of each oth-

"WAIT! Wait, Hold On!" Peter screeches, he folds his arms across his chest before chiding "That is so fake! You said this was almost a confession."

The laughter that escapes your lips is infectious. Before you know it, all three of you are in stitches. It continued for about 5 minutes before everyone began to calm down.

"Apologies, it was the perfect opportunity for a joke." Matt is still stifling his laughter.

"Oh, Pete! The look on your face was priceless!" 

Peter is unamused at this point. Both you and Matt were definitely two peas in a pod.

"Right," Matt clears his throat "Anyways, so we're on this couch..."

"I'm really glad we came tonight," you confessed as you fidget with your cup.

"Why is that?"

"Because I like being around you, and talking to you."

Matt smiled softly, his fingers tracing patterns along your arm. "Me too. It's nice to just be here with you, you make me feel seen, understood."

"I feel the same way, Matt. You've brought so much light into my life." The both of you sit in silence for a bit. As the loud EDM fades away, you say quietly. "I think I need to tell you something."

"Oh yeah?" His eyebrows raise as he turns his head in your direction. "What is it?"

Before you're able to say anything you feel your flip phone vibrate in your pocket. You pull it out to see it's the number of a close family friend. "Shit, Matt, I'm sorry I have to take this."

He nods before standing with you and you lead the both of you outside.

"What happened after that?" Peter is understandably confused.

You shift uncomfortably in your seat. "Well, actually, It was the night I found out my dad had passed."

"Oh man, Y/N, I'm so sorry." Peter starts.

“It’s okay! Really.” You say, “I’m glad I didn’t tell him that night.”

“Sweetheart.” Matt feigns offense. “I’m hurt.”

 “Shut it, Murdock!” You giggle before responding. “I’m glad it didn’t happen because I don’t think I would be where I am today.”

You all finish up dinner, the conversation continues with talk of school, cases, and projects. It was lighthearted, and having them both there made the apartment feel more like a home.

Peter helps you with the dishes while Matt takes a call for work. 

"You think he's the one?" Peter asks innocently.

Turning your head to look back at Matt, you can see the back of his head turn slightly while sitting on the couch. You know he can hear you.

"I really think so. He's my endgame."

"That's major then." 

You hum in response before changing the subject. Thinking back at the story Matt had told earlier. You did have regrets about that night, like leaving Foggy behind when the cops showed up and not talking to Matt later on about what you were going to say.

However, you feel as though your bond with Matt now was more solidified after being friends for so many years. Nothing could have warned you for the amount of love you felt for him now. 

"You think I can come over for Dinner every week?" Peter says, snapping you out of your thoughts.

"I would really love that, Pete!" You respond. "What days were you thinking?"

"Well I have this internship most days, but maybe Tuesdays?"

"Tuesdays are perfect. Of course you'll have to tell me all about that internship."

You hear the awkwardness of his chuckle before he responds, "Maybe one day."

join my taglist!

[solitablvd]

Se Nos Acabó El Ratito

**Minors DNI**

Pairing: Javier Escuella x Female Reader

Read Parte 1 & Parte 3

Summary: “I came to America because I killed a man in México. A powerful man. I knew if I stayed, everyone I love would die. I ran, not for my life, but for theirs." ** In 1894, you are the wife of General Velasco, a powerful figure in the Mexican Army. One fateful night in Punta Orgullo, you cross paths with Javier Escuella.

Warnings: pre-video game, smut, headcannon asf, more tags to come, romantic Javier idc, female reader, NSFW, unprotected p in v, v fingering, cunnilingus

Words: 4.4k

Ao3 Link

Parte 2:

Your eyes were locked on the ceiling. It had been at least an hour since Velasco fell asleep. You were consumed with how to warn Javier. It would be dangerous to let him come here. It could be a trap for all you knew. One big ploy to bring him here just to gut him at the right moment.

The thought made your stomach flip.

You rushed quietly to the restroom, splashing cold water on your face in a hurry. You peeked back into the room silently. Velasco hadn’t even stirred at the noise of the rushing water. His chest moved up and down, slowly and steadily.

If there was a chance to leave, it would be now.

You stepped quietly, the soft patter of your bare feet hitting the stone floor. You slipped on your huaraches and wrapped a rebozo around yourself before taking a final deep breath. You look at the man in your bed, still sound asleep. This wouldn’t be the first time he woke up to you already out of bed.

You left the villa quietly, using old crates to climb over the wall as you had done so many times before. The pueblo was silent at this late hour. The only light came from the moon and stars blanketed above you. Your eyes felt heavy at the sight. You could hear only the movement from the soldiers on duty.

Getting to Javier’s home was a familiar ritual. You knocked lightly on the wooden door and hoped it would be him who answered.

“It’s me.” You whispered as the door had opened a cautious crack. At the sound of your voice Javier quickly opened the door, pulling you inside and closing it quietly behind you.

He turned to you, his hair disheveled and his eyes heavy with fatigue. “What happened? Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine.” You nodded. Before you could continue he let out a deep, relieving sigh and sank into the couch, clearly needing to take a seat.

You took the seat beside him before continuing, “It’s about Velasco.” Your heart twitched as you said his name, breaking the unspoken pact of referring to your husband only as ‘him’.

A concerned look overtook Javier’s tired features, “What about him?”

You took a breath before explaining, “He sent those men to look for you today to invite you to dinner at the villa tomorrow— well today, I guess. He says he wants to come to an agreement of some sort. I don’t trust him. He’s never invited villagers over, especially not for conversation.”

You took another breath before continuing, “I think he knows— about us, I mean. This has to be a trap of some sort. You need to leave—“

“Woah, woah, hold on.” He shook his head in confusion.

Maybe it was the drowsiness that was consuming both your minds, but Javier remained silently confused at your rambling.

“How would he even know?” He finally asked with uncertainty, “What if he really does want to come to an agreement?”

“He’s not exactly the agreeing type.” You replied, your eyes and voice growing with desperation as you realized Javier wasn’t planning on leaving.

Javier thought quietly before giving you a forgiving look, “I have to try.”

You sighed, but nodded to acknowledge the inevitable. This was always a possibility.

“We’ll be okay.” He reassured you, pulling you in to lay against him as he leaned back against the couch. You nestled against the warmth of his chest. As he ran his fingers gently through your hair and planted tender kisses on your temple, you let your worries fade, not even thinking about going home.

His drowsiness was contagious, and you found your breathing slowing as you drifted towards sleep. In that moment, all you could do was wonder what tomorrow would bring for the two of you.

--

You jolted awake at the sound of a pounding fist against the wooden door of the Escuella house. The sound echoed loudly through the house, causing Javier to jerk awake beside you. You jumped off the couch, looking around at your surroundings. The morning sunlight streamed through the windows of the home.

“Cabo Diego of the Mexican Army.” The authoritative voice accompanied another insistent knock at the door. You exchanged a panicked glance with Javier as he jumped up from his spot on the couch.

“Hide in the kitchen,” Javier ushered you, trying to keep his voice calm. Your heart raced as you pressed your back against the kitchen wall. Another knock on the door reverberated through the home.

“Ay voy,” Javier called out, presumably making himself look more presentable before opening the wooden door.

“Javier Escuella?” The man, Cabo Diego, asked in a formal tone. You heard an affirming hum from Javier before the man continued, “General Velasco requests your presence at a dinner this evening at the Velasco residence, to discuss matters of… the utmost importance. We will send soldiers to escort you from your home at 6.”

“Not really a request then, no?” Javier bit back with defiance, always one to push his luck.

“6.” Was all you heard the man respond.

The wooden door shut with a final thud, causing you to flinch. You peeked out from the kitchen before entering the main room again, “I have to go.”

Javier’s eyes held a mixture of sympathy and concern. “I’ll see you later then, I suppose.” he said quietly.

You nodded, the lump in your throat making it hard to speak any further. You leaned in and placed a brief, tender kiss on his cheek, your heart hurting with unspoken fears. Without another word, you turned and hurried back toward the villa, each step heavy with dread.

Upon entry, you landed onto the concrete floor with a dull thud. You rushed into the courtyard, grabbing the pitcher to feign watering the greenery. Just as you caught your breath, you heard his voice behind you.

“Ah, there you are.” You turned to meet Velasco’s gaze at the sound of his voice, “I was wondering where you were; we need to prepare for this evening. Capitán González, Sargento Flores, and Cabo Diego will join us. We have invited three men from the village who seem to be at the root of the… ideas of revolution: Eduardo Ayala, Gael Solis, and Javier Escue–.”

The sound of Javier’s name made you flinch, the pitcher slipped through your fingers, shattering on the concrete floor. The water from inside covered the edge of your dress in water. Though it shouldn’t have been a surprise, it still felt jarring to hear him finally say his name aloud.

“-lla.” Velasco finished plainly. He sighed before pulling you by the arm, away from the mess before whistling for someone to clean it.

“Get this cleaned immediately.” He harshly told a worker before turning his attention back to you, “And you, if you’re going to be making a mess perhaps it will be beneficial for you to stay in the quarters until dinner.” He snapped. You kept your head down, nodding before returning to your shared room to change.

You remained in your shared room in the upper level of the villa until dinner. You could hear the preparations happening downstairs, with the occasional demands made by Velasco’s booming voice being carried upstairs. You readied yourself, wearing an off the shoulder blinding white dress to truly play the part of the General’s pious wife.

Downstairs, you helped the women in the kitchen as they prepared the large dinner. Not too long after, you heard the thumping of Velasco’s heavy boots on the concrete floor. He entered the kitchen, clad in his military uniform.

“Our guests are here.” He announced, gesturing for you to follow. You walked beside him to the large gate, the glowing of the setting sun following you both.

Walking up to the gate, a knot of anxiety tightened in your stomach. After shaking hands with the military men who you’ve met before, it was time to greet the revolutionaries. Eduardo and Gael were faces you recognized from the village; you were certain they had seen you with Javier. You only hoped Javier had warned them about your connection to the General.

You greeted Eduardo and Gael with a small, kind smile. They returned the greeting politely, but their eyes were knowing as they shook your hand. When it was Javier’s turn, his handshake was firm. He wore the same baby blue charro suit and matching sombrero that he wore on the day you met. As you greeted him, he squeezed your hand slightly in his almost as if to silently reassure you.

“Good evening,” Javier kept a neutral expression, though the edges of his lips couldn’t help but twitch up at your touch.

You nodded a quiet greeting before joining Velasco to lead the group into the dining room. As you walked through the villa, he took your hand in his. It was an empty gesture, as the two of you had rarely been affectionate with each other.

In the dining room, Velasco pulled out a chair for you at the head of the table, while he took the seat at the opposite end. His men occupied the three spots on your right, leaving the left side of the table for the other guests. Gael initially claimed the seat closest to you, pulling it out carefully. Javier, however, placed his hand on the same chair, exchanging a silent conversation with Gael before settling into the seat next to you, with Gael moving to the next chair over.

The proximity to Javier was aching. You wanted to feel his touch, to speak with him, to look into his virtuous eyes and fall deep under his charm. Instead, you looked straight ahead at your husband as the first course was being served.

“You have a very nice home.” Eduardo complimented, looking between Velasco and yourself. You remained quiet while Velasco took heed of the conversation amongst the men. He started off by keeping the conversation light, allowing everyone to get settled and begin eating the first course of dinner.

As the rest of the men politely engaged in conversation, Javier turned to you and mumbled, “It’s good,” as he took another spoonful of the soup before him.

Your eyes flicked to his, unsure of what to say. This was the last environment you’d ever thought you’d see him. He gave you a half smile before joining in on the conversation.

The cutlery continued to clink as everyone as the second course had been delivered. The tension in the room was palpable, but the polite facade everyone displayed was enough to mask that.

As the men commented on the meal, you remained silent, only speaking when prompted by Velasco and giving an agreeing hum when he would ask, “Right, dear?”

While Javier and his side of the table seemed inclined to address the pressing matters of their concerns, Velasco and his men seemed adamant on avoiding any direct discussion of the issues at hand at the moment. As the men discussed the recent weather Punta Orgullo had been seeing, you silently flinched as you felt a hand touch your knee under the table.

Javier’s eyes flicked to yours quickly, giving you a small smile before focusing on the conversation once more. His thumb ran over your knee gently, rubbing in mindless circles as he spoke, “Let’s just hope the winter is kind this year.”

Capitán González responded, but you couldn’t bring yourself to focus on the conversation. Javier’s touch was comforting and you wanted more. You shifted in your seat slightly, encouraging his touch. He kept his gaze facing the other men as his hand traveled up under the skirt of your dress, moving at an aching slow pace.

The warmth of his touch against your skin felt exhilarating, but you had to keep a straight face as you continued to eat your dinner. Javier’s fingers continued to move up the deliberate path, pressing down with light pressure against you. He found home on your upper thigh, allowing his thumb to trace slow, deliberate circles. His gaze remained impassive as he nodded and chuckled politely along with the men. The conversation was going right over your head, the tension making it difficult to focus on anything other than his touch.

Velasco cleared his throat loudly to get your attention, causing you to jump slightly and away from Javier’s touch. Your skin flushed as you felt caught. Velasco shot you an expected look.

You stammered a response before he asked again, “The garden. I was telling them how you enjoy tending to the garden.”

“Ah yes,” You nodded, taking a quick sip of your wine to gather yourself before continuing, “It is my favorite part of the villa.”

“And mine is the bedroom,” Velasco joked, earning hearty laughs from the military men to your right and polite chuckles from the men on your left, aside from Javier, whose jaw seemed to clench at the joke. You chuckled along at the joke, though it wasn’t very funny at all.

As dinner wrapped up, you felt your spirits lifting with relief as you knew you would soon be able to return to the sanctuary of your room, even if you’d only be alone for a short while.

“Gentleman,” Velasco began to announce to the table, “I think we can all agree we do have very important matters to discuss. Perhaps we can move to the parlor?” The men around him agreed.

He lifted his glass of wine for a final toast, “To mutual respect.”

You all followed suit, raising your own glasses before finishing them. Out of the corner of your eye you could see Javier stifling a laugh at the toast, sharing quick unimpressed looks with the men beside him before finishing his glass.

With that, the men all stood up following Velasco down the hallway into the parlor. You stayed back, helping the women clear the table. You heard the parlor doors close with a loud thud, signifying that their conversation would need to be a private one.

After clearing the table, you headed into the kitchen area, letting the women know they were free to leave. You wanted to wash the dishes alone, to give you time to ground yourself. Anything could be happening in that room.

Just as your thoughts began heading for the worst, the clinking of spurs against the concrete floor made you turn your gaze.

Javier couldn’t help but beam as he walked towards you, taking your hand and spinning you into a deep kiss. His lips claimed yours passionately. You melted into his arms, cupping his face closer as he held your waist tightly.

“I’ve been wanting to do this since I saw him hold your hand,” He muttered against your lips. He pulled away to bring the hand Velasco held only hours earlier to his lips, kissing your knuckles delicately. His gaze met yours as he smiled, pressing a million tiny kisses against your hand. “I can’t get enough of you.”

Your heart filled with his words. He always knew exactly what to say to make you feel cherished. Your smile only lasted a moment as you remembered your circumstances, “They’ll notice you're gone.”

He shook his head, moving back to your lips and humming a soft protest before muttering, “I told them I needed a smoke. I’ve got time.”

His kisses began to trail hungrily across your jawline. You gasped at the sensation, your back pressed up the tiled counter as you threw your head back in pleasure. He continued his journey down your neck and chest, pushing the top of your dress down ever so slightly to plant a tender kiss on your breast.

His hands rubbed harmoniously up and down your waist as he slowly sank to one knee, looking up at you for approval. You looked around. The house was empty, aside from the parlor. If you held your breath you could hear the distant sounds of the men speaking in the parlor. You nodded a quick approval, gasping lightly as Javier moved one of his hands to bunch up as much of your skirt as he could and the other worked to quietly remove your undergarment.

The tender kisses he pressed against your inner thighs felt warm against your skin. You lifted your leg instinctively, becoming desperate to the pulsing sensation as his nearing kisses begged for access. Finally, his lips hungrily delved into you. Your breathing hitched and you bit back a moan as his tongue tensed against you.

He gripped your waist to keep you still as you squirmed against him. He flicked his tongue against you with just the right pressure. One of your hands gripped your breast while the other ran through his hair, disheveling it in the process. He looked up at you with a playful glint as he brought his thumb to massage your bundle of nerves. You grasped his hair tightly at the sensation and covered your mouth quickly with the other hand, barely masking your moan.

He moved himself lower to stick his tongue in you, letting out a muffled groan against you. You desperately rocked your hips against him, needing more.

You snapped out of your trance at the sound of the parlor doors opening. You gasped at the sound. Javier jolted away from you, handing you your undergarment and rising to his feet.

The men’s voices became clearer with the parlor doors now open. One of them said, “He must be outside. I’ll go get him.”

You smoothed out your dress hurriedly as Javier wiped his mouth. As the kitchen door opened your face flushed with embarrassment. Javier was fixing his hair when Gael entered the kitchen.

Gael’s eyes widened as he saw you. He began to stammer an apology at your sight, pausing when he noticed Javier and glancing between the two of you.

“I got lost.” Javier interrupted, breaking the awkward tension in the room.

“What? Look, he’s not budging,” Gael explained, looking only at Javier now, “We need you in there.” Javier nodded before waving you a kind, quiet goodbye and following Gael back towards the parlor.

With the sound of the kitchen door closing behind them, you let out a breath you weren’t aware you were holding. You rushed up to your room, reveling in the sanctuary of your bed. You laid still, trying to see if you could hear anything downstairs. Your skin felt hot with arousal after what Javier had done. He had left you with a burning sensation encompassing your body, leaving you needing more.

The voices of the men grew as they entered the courtyard below. Sitting up, you could see Velasco and his men escorting the others out. Javier’s familiar blue suit shone brightly under the moon’s light, just as it did on the night you met. As they were led out the gate you sighed and gazed out the window, feeling a mix of frustration and longing.

You laid back into your bed roughly, biting your lip with anxiety at what you were about to do next.

Velasco wouldn’t be back for a while. Since Capitán González, Sargento Flores, and Cabo Diego didn’t leave, you knew that meant they would debrief and drink some more before he’d ever make it up to bed.

With that in mind, you gripped at the hem of your dress, sliding it up slowly and spreading your knees. You took your undergarment off, tossing it to the side as you let your hand dip down onto yourself. You were still so wet from Javier and as you remembered his touch you couldn’t help but continue to drown in pleasure.

You arched against your fingers, closing your eyes and envisioning his touch; how his hands sensually roam along your body, cherishing every inch of you. Your legs trembled as you let out a soft moan, trying your best to stay quiet as your pace quickened.

The tapping of your glass window made your eyes shoot open. You quickly sat up, closing your knees and attempting to cover yourself with the skirt of your dress.

Your eyes softened at the sight of Javier, who was completely captivated by the sight of you. You went over to open the window for him, noticing how he had climbed the greenery-covered trellis to reach the window.

“What are you doing here?” You asked him, helping him through the window and onto his feet.

“Sorry,” Javier whispered breathily, looking you up and down, his gaze filled with desire. You blushed deeply, his apology seemingly confirming that he had seen what you were doing mere moments ago. He cupped your face in his hands, gazing into you before pulling you into a passionate kiss. It was one filled with pure devotion.

You held his face with your hands, ensuring your lips stayed connected as he gently guided you backward toward the bed. As you fell onto the bed, you propped yourself up on your elbows, and he placed a hand on either side of you, hovering above. His lower half pressed against you, the warmth of his body only fueling your growing desire.

You shifted beneath him, spreading your legs to give him a much more comfortable and intimate spot pressed against you. You hummed a quiet moan against his lips, rolling your hips against him slowly. You could feel him hardening against your inner thigh.

He pulled out of your kiss, breathing heavily as he kept his forehead pressed against yours, your breathing matching his. The burning candles beside your bed mirrored the growing fire between you. Their warm light flickered against your eyes as he gazed deeply into them. He kissed you again, this time more tenderly as he slowly rocked himself against you. You slid down on your elbows, slowly landing on your back as he came down with you.

He kept one elbow beside your head to keep himself slightly lifted off of you, with his hand buried in your hair as the other steadily caressed your waist. You let your hands slip in between the two of you and down towards the buckle of his pants. He felt your touch and pulled away from your kiss to meet your gaze again. You breathed heavily in harmony with him as he looked at you with the same virtue in his eyes he had on the day you met. It was as if he was silently asking if you were sure. You gave a nod, and with that he sat up, throwing his blazer to the floor below before quickly unbuckling his pants and pushing them down.

You were dripping wet by the time he moved to insert himself, hovering above you and pressing into you gently. His lips caught yours as he pushed himself fully into you slowly, your moan muffled against his kiss.

He remained still for a moment, treasuring your kiss and the way your hands gripped his biceps. You arched your back and rolled your hips to encourage his movement. He briefly smiled against your lips before giving in to your wishes.

Javier fucked you with care and gentleness that only made it all the more intoxicating. He nipped up and down your exposed neck and chest as you threw your head back, muttering incoherent words of affections to him. His pace quickened only slightly as your moans encouraged his craving for you. Your bodies were intertwined, fitting together perfectly. You trusted him with every part of you. Bound to him through a deeper love.

He groaned against your chest, feeling the pooling sensation in his lower abdomen grow as you pulsed around him. Your moans grew needier as you felt a wave of pleasure overtake your body.

You didn’t care that you were being noisy and neither did Javier. All he knew was that he needed every inch of you, every day, for the rest of his life. Your pleasure ridden whimpers were enough to push him over the edge as he quickly pulled himself out of you, coming on your lower abdomen with a groan.

His forehead was pressed against yours as you both came down from your highs, he kissed you once more sweetly, “You’re perfect,” He muttered against your lips before lifting himself off of you. He reclothed himself quickly before going into the restroom to grab a cloth to clean you off.

“You know,” He smiled warmly as he sat beside you on the edge of the bed, “I came back to give you something.” You looked up at him curiously. He dug through the inner pocket of his blazer before pulling out a small golden band.

“I,” Javier began, his voice holding a tint of thoughtfulness as he spoke, “wanted to give this to you. It belonged to my grandmother. I had Doña Lupe clean it up for me.”

You gazed at him with deep sincerity as you accepted the token of his affection and slipped it onto your finger. “It’s beautiful.”

He sighed with gratuity before continuing, “I love you more than I can put into words,” he said softly. “And I know that one day, you’ll be mine—only mine.”

“I am already yours,” you corrected gently. He glanced around your shared room, chuckling at the irony of your words before nodding in agreement.

He pulled your hand up to his lips, placing a gentle kiss against the golden band. You could see the hidden sadness in his eyes. To prove your words to him you pressed your lips against his tenderly. Downstairs, you heard the clanging of glasses as your drunken husband was wrapping things up with his colleagues.

He sighed against your lips before muttering, “Alright preciosa, I think that’s my cue to leave.”

You let out a breath, nodding in silent agreement before helping him leave through the window. As he clung onto the greenery-covered trellis, he briefly reached into his pocket, taking out an unarmed rose as he had done so many times before. The moon shone brightly, reflecting off his bright eyes as he looked up at you with his virtuous eyes. He placed it onto your window sill before quietly shimmying down the trellis and sneakily leaving the premises.

You watched him under the pale moonlight until he was completely out of your vision. You looked back down at the ring, feeling an immense sense of adoration for the man as you collapsed into your place in bed. You couldn’t even bring yourself to properly ready yourself for bed, just wanting to remain in this joy forever. You held your hand against your chest, using the other to brush against the detailed roses engraved on the band. With a smile and Javier on your mind, you drifted into sleep.

[writing-for-life]

A Sacred Garden: Death & Delight—Michael Zulli

Oh… was the first thing I thought when I found this. I need your help, fellow art aficionados…

I am not entirely sure if the title should be “A Wicked Garden” or “A Sacred Garden” (I find the latter more likely because of the symbolism, plus a gallery also has it listed as that), because it is listed as both.

But what on earth are we looking at here?!

Because Death is tied up. I immediately had to think of Jesus on the cross here (not least because Delight’s positioning reminds me of many paintings of the crucifixion and both Maries, but naturally also because of how Death is positioned).

And the flower floating above Delight’s hand is a rose, like in so many of Zulli’s paintings (they often stand for love and passion, but especially with Death, he often uses them for grief and mourning. They don’t have a specific colour here—if they were blue or red, it would be easier to figure out what they stand for. Also, I have to think of swirling things the way the rose is floating 🍥).

But what is going on here? Who tied Death to the tree? And what with all the skulls? Are they symbolic for Delight dying/changing to Delirium?

And is this some sort of altar (the thing Delight is holding on to with her right, with the jug on the left and the ram’s skull on the right)? Who’s the sacrificial lamb here? Is she bargaining for more time as Delight?

Another connotation is that of St. Sebastian, in many depictions tied to a tree, although that’s less straightforward. People used to pray to St. Sebastian for protection against the plague, which could also make sense in this context (mental plague rather than bubonic—again, is there some bargaining going on here?). I’m honestly so confused…

Or could we actually turn this on its head, and it’s not about Delight turning into Delirium at all—at least not at this point. What if it’s actually about Death, and how she relates to her function, and her own struggles? I’ll just leave that question sitting there...

Zulli painted a Triptych of Death and Delight roundabout the same time which makes me think that could be also be an option, or at least that they are both affecting each other:

The individual paintings are called “She rides a pale horse”, “Sisters” and “Eternal Spring.” Here, the roses are actually coming out of Delight’s hair, and they’re red. And her hair is beginning to dissolve in the last one.

Edit to quickly remind everyone of this reference to the falling blossoms in her domain in Brief Lives:

This takes me in all different directions, and it’s immensely confusing.

Death as the saviour makes sense (well, sometimes I guess). But is Delight looking for salvation? Did she want to die? Is that what turned her into Delirium? Is it symbolic for the loss of innocence and understanding that this is what comes for all of us? Or is it also about Death?

“Oh” indeed…

Tagging @tickldpnk8 @windsweptinred without pressure—and everyone else who’d like to have a go at this one.

[clockwork-ashes]

All You Have Is Your Fire - Part XXIV

Find all previous parts on Ao3 :)

Summary: 'I can hear your heart beating through the stone.' For the briefest of moments, Lucien wondered if his mate would know exactly when his heart’s steady rhythm came to a sudden stop.

Note: A huge thank you to the lovely @sad-scarred-sassy who deserves all the credit for the post that inspired me to start writing this :) Another huge thank you to everyone reading! ALSO please look at this post, I gasped it's so lovely. All of @teddyhoneybear's moodboards are stunning <3

Tag List: @anishake / @nocasdatsgay / @mybestfriendmademe / @talibunny30 / @halfbutneverwhole / @wishfulimaginings / @goldenmagnolias / @emmers-bens123 / @cauldronblssd / @xirose / @rarephloxes / @thehighlordishere / @the-darkestminds /

Lucien watched his mother carefully. 

The Lady of Autumn was leaning forward in the comfortable armchair opposite his own, emerald skirts flaring around the cushioned seat, a river of fabric along the stone floors. Her auburn hair fell in loose curls to her waist, held away from her face with golden clips fashioned to look like oak leaves. 

She hummed softly, the rubies on each of her fingers flashing in the light of the dancing flames within the fireplace. Her hand hovered above the chess pieces, pausing over the black rook. 

Lucien bit the inside of his cheek as his mother took another of his pawns. She raised a brow at him in challenge, sparks in her russet eyes. 

Lucien huffed a sigh, staring at the red and black board, at all of the remaining pieces on each of their little squares. He crossed both his arms, considering. “You’re really quite good at this,” he mumbled. Lucien decided that both Eris and Callum were going easy on him, perhaps throwing games on purpose. He would have to ask them to stop, he thought. 

The Lady of Autumn laughed, the sound soft as it fell from her lips. She smiled at her youngest son in a way she did not at the rest of her children — unguarded. It always managed to make Lucien feel special. “When you’re as old as I am, I suspect you’ll be just as good.” 

Lucien wondered how many years it would take to reach his mother’s age. At just over half a decade, he wanted to know how much more chess he would need to play. He moved one of his pieces, wincing as he saw the easy opening to his king. 

The High Lord’s wife clicked her tongue, reaching across the coffee table to ruffle Lucien’s hair. Everything about the gesture was tender, and Lucien leaned into the touch. “Little sunbeam,” she started, a small smile on her youthful face, “you know I don’t play to lose.” 

Lucien guessed he was about the age his mother had been at the time of his memory, and while he had changed much since then, the Lady of Autumn remained the same. 

She held onto his arm gently, long fingers pale against the brown velvet of his jacket. They were walking back to his and Elain’s shared chambers, and while Lucien was glad to be spending time with his mother, he hated leaving his mate alone for too long. The sound of their combined steps were loud in the empty hallway, soft echoes ringing around them as she spoke about the wedding. 

Lucien could hear the excitement in her tone as she told him about the decorations and the food they planned to serve. Cora had been helping with the floral arrangements, and his mother seemed to be quite fond of the Night Court female. The Lady of Autumn thrived at organising court events, and she was very pleased to have been given so much freedom when it came to the reception. Lucien could not help but feel a bit guilty that she did not know the truth of it all, but he did not want to upset her, or risk his father finding out. 

“Elain will be having her dress fitting tomorrow as well,” his mother continued. “And she insists on keeping you far away, you know, since she was a human, of course.” 

Lucien had no idea what tradition she was referring to, and briefly wished Jurian and Vassa were both there to help him. He had sent them a few letters, and had received no response. He guessed correspondence was simply being controlled by Ronan’s sentries, and while he was frustrated with the fact, he had come to accept it. He nodded absently, still wondering what human customs Elain had been adding to the wedding ceremony, barely listening as his mother began to recite a list of those who had not yet accepted their invitation. 

Lucien would ask Elain about it when they were alone. He found her easy to talk to, and he hoped she felt the same. He wanted his mate to share more about her life, both before and after she had been made fae. There was still so much about her that he wanted to learn, could spend a lifetime learning. 

Little sunbeam. 

Lucien remembered the childhood nickname, and yet he was unsure when it might have been the last time he had heard it. Eris used to scowl whenever it was uttered, despite how much affection was usually hidden beneath the words. He almost winced as his mother said it flippantly, realising she had asked him a question and was waiting for an answer. 

Lucien cleared his throat, patting his mother’s hand apologetically. “I wasn’t paying attention,” he cringed, adding a quick “sorry.” 

The Lady of Autumn raised an auburn brow, the expression all too familiar. “Thinking about your mate?”

Lucien sighed, offering his mother a sheepish smile. “Always.” 

She pulled him to a stop. Her brows knit together, her eyes going over him, searching. She held his gaze for a moment, pausing at his scar. His mother reached for him, hand resting on his cheek as her lips tilted up slightly. “I’m very happy for you.” 

The pride he heard in her voice was enough to make Lucien emotional. He would have pulled her in for a hug had he not spotted Cora rushing towards them. Elain’s friend seemed to have appeared out of thin air, her footsteps silent as she held her skirts in her hands. Her long hair was like a flag, dark and loose as she approached. 

Lucien frowned as he noticed the tightness around Cora’s mouth, at the tenseness of her shoulders. Unease washed over him, and his mother turned around as she sensed it. 

“Lucien,” Cora said, slowing down to quickly curtsy at the Lady of the Autumn Court. “Lucien, if you could come with me?” Beneath the veneer of her polite and courtly attitude, was concern. 

Lucien took long steps towards her, his heartbeat racing as worse case scenarios flashed into his mind. “What’s happened?” The female’s dark eyes flicked briefly to his mother and he redirected her attention. “Cora?” 

Her explanation was hurried and his mother watched with interest as she shared how Elain had crashed into Eris roughly. As soon as Lucien heard his brother’s name, all he could see was red. “Is she hurt?” He snarled, quickly losing all of his patience. 

“She hit her head on the doorframe and fainted,” Cora winced, glancing at the stone arch next to them. “She’s resting in my room, with the prince watching over her.” 

Lucien had not felt anything along the mating bond, and he could not understand why. He should have known if something was wrong.

“It must be the stress of the wedding, Lucien,” his mother reassured. She placed a soft hand on his back, the action grounding him as the bond urged him to run to Elain and protect her from all harm. “I’ll have someone send coffee to your rooms,” she continued, pushing him lightly in Cora’s direction. 

Cora grabbed onto his sleeve, winnowing them both seamlessly to a different part of the Forest House. Lucien had not known she was capable of such magic, but he was too consumed with thoughts of his mate. 

“What did Eris do?” He asked, voice low and accusing. Cora gripped his jacket tightly and dragged him towards the stairs that led to a different floor. “I swear if he—”

Cora interrupted him swiftly. “He did nothing but bump into Elain.” Lucien let her continue, frown deepening as he considered her statement. “She should’ve been fine, anyone else would have been.” 

Lucien was becoming increasingly frustrated and confused. “Cora, please tell me what happened.” 

“For a moment she was fine, I saw her, ready to give Eris a piece of her mind.” The lady’s maid bit her lip, shaking her head as she forced Lucien to turn a corner. “And then there was wind in a room with no windows, all of the torches went out, and Elain…” Her words trailed off.

Lucien felt panic choke him, “What about Elain?” 

Cora ran a hand through her hair, fingers getting caught in the strands. “Elain’s eyes rolled back until only the whites could be seen, I swear they were glowing, pale as moonlight.”

Lucien swore under his breath. 

Cora shook her head again. “She would have fallen if Eris hadn’t not caught her. He carried her to my bed with her eyes still open, I’d never seen anything like it.” 

Lucien finally understood why the bond between them had stayed silent. If it was simply a result of Elain’s magic, she would be completely fine. He glanced at the female still pulling him along, wondering how much information Elain had revealed about her visions and abilities. Cora had been looking for books on deciphering dreams with them, but he was still not entirely sure if she knew why. 

“It’s nothing,” Lucien said quickly, hoping Cora would not question him. 

She raised her brow, daring him to repeat himself. “I know what it is,” she declared, waving him off as he opened his mouth to respond. “Don’t bother lying again,” Cora stopped in front of the carved wooden door leading into her room. She shoved it open, and Lucien slipped past her to enter. 

Lucien did not know what he had been expecting, but it certainly had not been to see a very alright looking Elain chatting with his brother. He paused at the sight, shocked to see his mate sitting cross legged on the bed, skirts fanning around her. There was a glass of water in her hands, and they were steady as she held it in front of her chest. Despite looking slightly dishevelled, her hair falling from its pins and her dress wrinkled, she looked perfectly fine. 

Lucien halted to a sudden stop in the centre of the small space. Elain’s entire body relaxed, a lovely smile gracing her features as her eyes fell onto him. She said his name, and through the bridge between their souls, he knew she was glad to see him. He mirrored her expression, forgetting that others were there entirely. 

Eris cleared his throat, the sound breaking the silence. He stood up from his chair, patting the bed once. “Hello, little brother.” 

Lucien had to fight back a snarl at the taunt in his tone. “You don’t watch where you’re going?” There was still a small part of him that blamed his carelessness for Elain’s current position. 

Eris shrugged, eyes falling to Cora where she still stood by the door. He raised a brow as he turned his attention to Elain. “She’s so very small I suppose I didn’t notice her.” Elain’s mouth fell open in mock offence, but her gaze was still on Lucien.

He decided Eris was not worth his time, especially when all he wanted to do was take Elain back to their chambers so they could be alone. “You alright?” 

Elain nodded, placing her bare feet onto the floor. “I am, thank you.” She kicked at her slippers, putting them on as a blush rose to her cheeks. “Thank you for coming so quickly, I mean,” she added, breathing a small laugh. 

Lucien offered Elain his hand, and when she held onto him, she flashed a grateful smile. She stood up shakily, losing her balance. Lucien wrapped an arm around her waist, holding her. “Need me to carry you?” He was only half joking. 

Elain leaned into his side, lacing her fingers with his own. “I think I’ll be alright.” 

“Take it easy, Elain,” Cora said, walking up to them so she could rub a friendly hand on his mate’s shoulder. 

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” Elain told both her and Eris. Lucien could only guess how worried they had been witnessing the vision.

They left and Cora shut the door with Eris still inside her room. Lucien frowned, knowing his brother would question the female and hoping she would be able to hold her own against him. He was quite confident Cora would do just fine, but a part of him was troubled when he thought about Eris knowing Elain was a seer. 

Lucien turned his attention to his mate, searching for any hint that she might not be alright. He tugged on the bond to check, and she tightened her hold on him. He chose not to winnow, deciding it was best if she was still a little unsteady. They walked in comfortable silence back to their chambers. Like his mother had promised, there was a tray with coffee, sugar, and cream on the table by the sofa. 

As soon as the door closed behind them and Lucien checked to ensure the wards were in place, he spoke. “You had a vision?” 

Elain nodded as he helped her to the couch. He added a teaspoon of sugar to her coffee, stirring as she ran a hand through her curls. “I didn’t like it.” 

Lucien handed her the mug, sitting next to her. She described her vision — the golden knife, the rose petals, and the howling wolf. Lucien agreed that it did not sound very good, but he did not know what it meant any more than she did. 

“You were right,” Elain added. “Holding back the visions isn’t working, and this one was stronger than the others.” 

Lucien rubbed a hand over his face. “I’ll handle Eris, he won’t believe a thing we say unless it’s the truth.” Perhaps it was his place as the eldest brother that made him very good at sensing nonsense. He knew from experience that Eris would not let it go if he suspected something was being hidden from him. 

Elain blew a stray curl from where it had fallen over her eyes, setting her mug next to the one Lucien still had yet to touch. “I told him.” 

“You told him?” Lucien felt like the stars had fallen out of the sky. He took a moment to spin the words in his mind, swallowing as he stared at a very calm Elain. “You told Eris about your visions?” He could barely believe it, hoping that she was making a joke. 

“It’s alright, Lucien,” she said seriously, placing a hand on his thigh. She inched closer so that their shoulders were touching. “I tried lying, but,” she shrugged, “he’s going to help, and I already made him swear not to tell anyone.” 

Lucien coughed, trying his best not to show Elain how anxious it made him that Eris knew. “What, exactly, did you tell him?” 

Elain looked up into his face, her dark brown eyes bright in the light of the flickering fireplace. “Everything. I told him about the Cauldron, and its gift to me, and my visions during the war.” 

Eris could not be trusted, it was something Lucien had strongly believed for centuries. He could already imagine Eris spinning this situation to suit him. “Elain,” he sighed, “I don’t know…”

She smiled and he paused. “I know.” Elain looked so confident, he could hardly argue. “And he’s so old, I’m sure Eris knows more about seers than the two of us combined,” she added, squeezing his leg.

“Alright.” Lucien returned her smile, taking a loose curl and tucking it behind her pointed ear. “I trust you,” he murmured, the pull of the bond magnetic. He leaned towards her, and she did the same, eyes fluttering shut. 

Elain brushed her lips against his, her hands rising up to grip the lapels of his jacket. Drawing him closer, she relaxed into his touch. Lucien kissed her more fully, cupping her head while tracing the smooth skin of her cheekbone with his thumb. 

Elain’s full lips parted beneath his, tongue slipping past them to ease a small sigh from the back of her throat. Lucien attempted to slowly move away, but she followed him, breaking their kiss to throw her arms around his neck in a tight hug. 

“I trust you, too,” Elain said softly, holding Lucien close. 

[angelsanarchy]

Elecktrick Children: One Long Weekend- Epilogue Clyde + Y/n

Tagging:@roryculkinluvr@siriuslymooned@cc-luvr@crypticsewerslut@icarus-star@desert-springtime@shady-the-simp@izuoyarmin@mayathepsychic1999

Clyde had come home from working and immediately got in the shower. He wanted to be ready to receive Y/n once she got home because of her terrible work week. Since moving in with one another, Clyde found that they had fallen seamlessly into a life together, having dinner every night, still going to shows on the weekends. He had even taken her home to meet his dad and step mom. Their lives revolved around one another in the best ways possible.

Y/n was exhausted. She had recently gotten a new position with a magazine and he criticized every one of her photos and yet still made sure to use them on the best articles. She had to actually fight for him to "remember" to credit her on the bottom of the photos just so she could get a paycheck. She spent her whole lunch break complaining to Clyde about him and asking him if they could just kill him and toss him in the desert. Clyde had offered her a compromise that she seemed to be okay with.

Now she was finally on her way home with take out ready to spend the weekend with Clyde as he had promised that once she got home, he would get her insanely high, rub her feet and let her beat him in any Nintendo game she wanted. She carried her bags inside and could see Clyde had already pulled out plates and the weed tray.

"I'm home!" She called out and Clyde walked out in only black sweatpants, bare feet and wet hair fresh from the shower.

"Hey baby, I've already got everything set out. I'm going to roll at least 3 joints since its been a tough week." Clyde started to turn the TV on and Y/n dropped the food on the counter, stripping her bags off and staring at him. She hadn't felt this feral in a while just staring at her boyfriend in his most pure form.

"Go get comfortable, I'll bring the food over to the-"

"Are you fucking kidding me?" She finally spoke and Clyde froze, still crouched down in front of the TV. He looked confused.

"Um...what?" He asked almost concerned by the look of digust on her face.

"You...look at you." Clyde looked down at himself before staring.

"What? What's wrong?" He stood unsure of what she was referring to.

"You can't just be a perfect boyfriend and insanely fucking sexy in just sweatpants." She had crossed the floor towards him and ran her hands down his chest making him let out a sigh.

"Jesus Christ, you gave me a fucking heart attack." He ran his hands through his hair and Y/n kissed him.

"Do you have any idea how fucking sexy you are?" She whispered against his lips. He put his hands on her hips and smiled into the kiss.

"Yeah? I guess a shower really does it for you." Clyde teased as she dropped to her knees and raked his sweats down, exposing his cock in front of her. Clyde jumped slightly at the exposure to the air. She didn't waste any time taking him down her throat and sucking. Clyde groaned looking down at Y/n going to work on his cock like she couldn't help herself.

"Y/n fuck..." Clyde let his hands rest on either side of her head, carefully thrusting into her mouth. She cupped his balls and rolled them between her fingers making his body jolt.

"God you suck my cock so good. I love you so much." He bit his lip, trying not to bust too quickly.

"Where do you want me to cum?" Clyde asked out of breath, nearing his climax.

"Do you have two in you?" She pulled off and looked up through her lashes at him. He shook his head unsure if he could reboot that quickly.

"I already hit the bong so probably just one right now." Y/n gave one more long pull from his cock before standing yanking her panties down her legs and pushing him to sit on the couch. She climbed into Clyde's lap and lowered her dripping pussy onto his cock making them both let out shivering groans. All Clyde could do was hold onto her hips as she rode his cock without any hesitation. She was fucking herself on his cock like it was to save his life.

"Oh fuck Clyde." She whined holding onto his shoulders and raking her fingernails down his pecs. Clyde was on the edge and started thrusting up to match her pivoting her hips down. Her groans turned to screams and Clyde gripped her hips tightly, bruising the skin of her hip as he cum inside of her. Y/n kept saying "yes" as she rode Clyde's cock into her own orgasm slowing her hips and letting her head fall onto his naked shoulder.

He wrapped his arms around her, letting her catch her breath. He could feel both his cum and her own run down his cock as he stayed buried inside of her. When she finally lifted her head to look at him, he laughed.

"Can we do this all weekend?" She asked sweetly and he nodded his head.

"Are you serious? We can stay naked and never leave this fucking couch." Clyde pushed her hair off her face and she returned with her own laugh. They were just two crazy kids in love and enjoying everything that comes with it.

They spent the rest of the weekend, wrapped up in one another, eating take out, playing Nintendo and fucking.

[tellmegoodbye]

Welcome back everyone! This week's themes are Disasters and Nancy & Mateo. I'll admit, this theme was a tough one! I have two songs that reflect on two very disastrous moments in the show. It's a loose interpretation of the word, I know, but the result is now probably my angstiest music monday submission yet. You're welcome. Or I'm sorry.

Thank you as always to @lonestar-s5countdown!

---

Walked Through Hell - Anson Seabra

I guess all the mountains that I moved just weren't enough And all those nights I walked you home From crowded bars when you were drunk Well they meant nothing 'cause you up and walked away And I just wonder what it'd take to make you stay

Cause when you said jump I said how high But when I jumped you said goodbye

I would've walked through hell To find another way I would've laid me down If I knew that you would stay I would've crossed the stars To keep you in my life But now I'm falling hard Without you here tonight

I'm kicking things off with a breakup song. TK and Carlos were both broken in their own ways, but these lyrics are a reflection on Carlos' state of mind in the immediate aftermath. There's a touch of unreliable narrator involved here because obviously TK loves Carlos, but from the perspective of the person whose heart has just been broken, he doesn't. This song really digs into just how much pain something like this causes, and how much healing they had to go through. Much like a recovery from a physical injury, such as Grace hurting her leg or TK taking a bullet to his chest, Carlos' love and trust needed a lot of mending.

Atlantic - Sleep Token

(cw: reference to a suicide attempt)

I woke up surrounded, eyes like frozen planets Just orbiting the vacuum I am And they talk me through the damage, consequence And how it's a pain they know they don't understand

Sobbing as they turn to statues at the bedside I'm trying not to crush into sand So flood me like Atlantic, weather me to nothing Wash away the blood on my hands

This is TK in the aftermath of his overdose. The narrator describes themselves as a vaccum, surrounded by people who love them but can't understand the pain that they're in. TK feels so broken and empty at this point, and even though he lies to Owen and puts on a stoic face. We know he's hurting so much more than he said. We know that this overdose was no accident, that TK felt so lost and unlovable that he had tried to take his own life. He'll go through the motions. He'll move to Austin with his dad and rebuild a firehouse. He'll go back to work and seek out physical comfort from Carlos, but he doesn't heal from something like this overnight. He still feels like he'll never have the kind of future he wants. Love and happiness feel so distant for him right now, nearly an impossiblity. He can't see a way out of the darkness.

Tags!

@strandnreyes @lemonlyman-dotcom @heartstringsduet @herefortarlos @bonheur-cafe

@ironheartwriter @emsprovisions @sapphic--kiwi @literateowl @carlos-tk

@paperstorm @guardian-angle22 @lightningboltreader @eclectic-sassycoweyes @thisbuildinghasfeelings

@whatsintheboxmh @firstprince-history-huh @toomanycupsoftea @reeeallygood @butchreyes

@nancys-braids @captain-gillian @alrightbuckaroo @theghostofashton @reyesstrand + open tag!

[imrowanartist]

Written with the prompt “We need to talk.”

Set in the Rosie AU

Tags: Established PriceGaz, trans pregnancy, just some fluff

-

After John leaves for his training shift at Credenhill, Kyle tries to lay in bed a while longer.

Tries being the operative word there, since he can already feel the urge to pee again; his little Bee making it known that she’s awake too. He places a hand on his bump and despite his morning grumpiness, he can’t resist a smile as he feels her usual movements.

Just ten more weeks before he’ll get to meet her for real, a thought that both excites and terrifies him.

With a slightly exaggerated groan, Kyle drags himself out of bed to get ready for the day. He promised Laswell he’d go over some intel and he has an appointment with his ob-gyn later in the afternoon too.

Researching intel for Kate is not his favorite job, but it makes him feel useful and he likes being able to contribute to the team, even if he can’t be in the field anymore.

The morning passes by uneventfully, besides a handful of extra pee breaks and one snack craving he can’t resist. The afternoon brings its own challenges.

The weather is slowly getting warmer and the closer it gets to the summer, the less Kyle can hide his growing bump behind coats and sweaters when he goes outside.

It’s not that he’s ashamed - he hasn’t been since he was a teenager and he refuses to be now. He just discovered that he has very little patience for having to explain his situation to random curious strangers.

Today, however, is a typical gloomy spring day, which means he’ll be able to go about the rest of his appointments with relative anonymity.

When Kyle gets home by the end of the afternoon, his limited amount of energy has been spent. He’d planned on unpacking some of the baby stuff they received from Dotty in the nursery, but as he sinks down on the couch, he decides that a nap is in order first.

It’s one of the plus sides of being pregnant, he thinks to himself as he fluffs up a pillow. No one bats an eye when you take a nap at random times a day.

He must sleep longer than he thinks because it’s the sound of a key turning in the lock that wakes him up. Squinting at the clock he notices that it’s indeed about time for John to come home from the base.

He’s still rubbing the sleep out of his eyes when his partner enters the living room and throws his jacket over the armrest of the couch. Kyle blinks at him as he notices John’s stiff movements.

“Hey, “ he greets, sitting up. The what’s on your mind? goes unspoken between them.

John’s body language is tense as he puts down his bag and crosses his arms. “So what did you want to talk about?”

Kyle frowns at him, confused as to what he's referring to. “Eh?” he says, wondering what on earth has John so on edge.

“Your message,” John replies, clearly getting frustrated as he rubs his forehead, “You said we need to talk?”

Kyle grabs his phone and opens his messages. “I don’t remember sending you - oh… aw, bloody hell-“

At the top of his messenger app, he indeed sees that he sent John exactly that. And now that he reads it again, he suddenly remembers why and when.

“Kyle?” John asks, almost nervously.

Kyle sighs, cursing the hormone-induced forgetfulness that most definitely caused this. “I’m so sorry, I was gonna say ‘We need to talk about that registry list mum sent’ but I guess I got distracted.”

It’s been happening a lot lately. He thought Dotty was joking when she said pregnancy brain was a thing, but by now he has discovered that she was dead serious. He looks up at John. “You okay?”

John lets out a relieved chuckle as he sits down next to Kyle on the couch. “Fucking- yeah I’m good. Thought you’d gotten some bad news at the doc or something.”

“Like I would have sent a text like this-“ Kyle snorts, leaning into John. He feels kinda bad for causing his partner distress, but it’s also a little funny.

John turns to him abruptly with a raised eyebrow. “I distinctly remember you texting me the same thing before you told me you were gonna keep her.”

Kyle has to wreck his brain for a moment, but then he remembers what John is referring to with a wince. “…Yeah okay fair,” he says, before leaning towards his partner and kissing him on the cheek. “But no, everything’s good. Me and Bee are right on track.”

John sighs again, but this time Kyle recognizes it as one of relief. It’s sweet how much he worries, making Kyle feel a wave of affection for him.

“Good. That’s good.” John grunts, then asks, “You hungry?”

Realizing it is about dinner time, and that Kyle definitely has no energy to cook anything whatsoever, he nods. “I could go for some food, yeah.”

John already reaches for his phone, giving him a questioning look. “Anything you’re craving?”

Ah, how well his partner has gotten to know Kyle and his particular pregnancy moods by now. He gives John a grin as he leans back onto the couch and puts his feet up on the coffee table.

“Thai, I think,” he hums thoughtfully, putting a hand on his stomach and feeling Bee nudge it as if she agrees. “Yep, definitely Thai.”

[swiftllama]

September Compliments ☀️🔍

[Compliments Masterlist]

Hey guys! Back for another month! A month of a lot of small compliments sprinkled throughout this time around, but we still got quite a few full-on great complimentary moments. One in particular was very special 🥰

So let's get into it...

September 2023

Thinking OUTSIDE The Box (Herd Mentality)

Right off the bat, first day of the month, we got a Games video, and this video actually started off a theme throughout this month. The boys were in quite a few videos where they were playing games this month and were either competing against or working as a team so we got a lot of them complimenting each other on a job well down, plus the bestie-ism was shining through :-

Q: 'Name a brand beginning with an A’

Anthony: "I went to clothing for some reason."

lan: "Oh then I know what you did then."

Anthony: "Do you?'

lan: "You went to clothing.”

~

Anthony: "I put American Eagle. I'm thinking mall culture."

lan: [nodding] “I was thinking- I actually thought you'd either put American Eagle or All Saints."

-

Q: 'Name an animal beginning with a P’

lan: "I'm giggling [at his answer]."

Anthony: "I think I know why you're giggling.”

~

lan: "I put p**sy!"

Anthony: "I knnnew."

-

Anthony: "Did you [lan] just win?"

lan: "Oh!'

Anthony: "That's a win!" [cheering and clapping] "Yoooo! Because the nose [lan's answer for that round] knows!'

-

Q: 'Out of all the animals in the world, which is the cutest?'

lan: "I said cat."

Anthony: "I said kitten."

[everyone debating whether it counts as the same animal]

Anthony: "Also Ian," [shows him his card] "I wrote cat and crossed it out. I almost wrote it."

-

Q: 'Who is the toughest Disney princess?'

lan: "I did, I think her name is Merida?"

Anthony: "I put the one from Brave."

lan: "Oh!"

Anthony: "Yeah!"

I actually made a post of this moment because it was so cute! How excited they were they had the same answer and also Anthony's little tap dance when he realises 😊

l also loved Angela pointing it out :-

Angela: "Wait, that was so cool that you both said that really random one."

Chanse: "That is fun. Yeah."

Anthony: "Yeah."

lan: "She's tough."

Anthony: "But isn't she- she's like an archer."

Angela: "Sure, but like nobody talks about that movie."

Jackie: "I thought of it too, but I was like 'That's too much of a deep cut.'"

What did I say about the bestie-ism shining through? 🥰

-

lan: "Hey everybody. Here's a good one, Anthony I feel like you and I are gonna be aligned on this one."

Q: 'Name a rapper'

~

lan: "I said Drake."

Anthony: "I wrote Snoop Dogg."

So obviously not the same answer but very cute how lan thought they would be on the same wavelength and he gives the reason as to why he thought that :-

lan: "So Anthony and I played a, we played a fun little game yesterday, where we went on Spotify and we were trying to guess who were the top artists, because it ranks them-"

Literally awing out loud! the fact they were just playing that game together, it wasn't for a video or anything, just something they were doing together in their free time 🥹

Bonus - HELP! I became an NPC!

So this next moment doesn't really fall under the 'compliment' umbrella, but it is something that has become a sub-genre of these posts - is the 'daddy’ thing. Yep, you guessed it folks, Anthony was at it once again. Although, like in the 'You Posted That' episode, he's switching it up and now he's referring to himself as 'daddy’ :-

Anthony: [face appearing as if through a phone screen like in the main sketch]

lan: [pretends to put his fingers up Anthony's nose and then into his mouth]

Anthony: "Ooooh, daddy like."

Why are they like this 🤦‍♀️

Also I think @lilac-hecox & @only-frann summed up a perfect description of this Compliments Series :-

Hope you guys don't mind me tagging you, but this is literally what this series is 😄

Anyways, that was just a jokey little one, but as I said, it's now a 'thing' of these posts so I couldn't not include it.

Moving on...

We Already Regret This Embarrassing Photoshoot ft. Smosh

The boys went back on Good Mythical Morning for the first time in almost 8 years, and although this time around we didn't get any frosting foot massages or Titanic re-enactments there was a few compliment-adjacent moments :-

Link: [talking about the photo they had to re-create] "And lan, I gotta give it to you, man. You remembered a lot."

Anthony: "He did! The glasses. The shirt."

-

Anthony: "I'm feeling good about that one [their photo]."

lan: "I'm feeling good."

And then we got one of their high-five/hand-grip moments that they do a lot.

-

[lan and Anthony announced as the winners]

Anthony: "Yeeeah!'

Another high-five, of course

Anthony: "Yeah! Let's go!'

They just absolutely live for congratulating each other on anything and everything now and it's very sweet. And there's more to come!

Food Battle 2011 - Flashback w/ Smosh

As they're rewatching Food Battle 2011, lan points out in one of the shots how his cross-country team photo can be seen in the background :-

Anthony: "That's you lined up with all the cross-country... pals.

Oop was that jealous!anthony shining through a little there 🫢

lan: [laughs] "Pals."

Anthony: "Backlit. Looking epic."

So again, just another small little compliment, but lan's cross-country/running is brought up again and praised/complimented by Anthony in...

HELP! I became an NPC! Watch Party

[discussing how American sports are confusing]

Anthony: "I feel like Smosh and sports just don't mix in my brain."

lan: [laughs] “What sport do you think that aligns the most with Smosh?"

They go through multiple silly suggestions between the two of them and ones they read from the chat, before lan suggests :-

lan: “I feel like, and it's probably just because I did it, but cross-country. Smosh is cross-country."

Anthony: "Just cause you're part of Smosh and you did it?"

lan: "And you just keep going, and you just keep going. Just keep running."

Anthony: "Is that how you felt doing Smosh even when I left?"

lan: “Yeah. Like just gotta keep going. Just one more mile. One more mile."

Oh lan 🥺 I just had to pause to react to that before I get to the complimentary part of this conversation, but that's so sad. But also a perfect description of what I imagine it was like for him during those times when Anthony was gone. Having to remind himself to just keep going and pushing forward regardless.

Anthony: "What was your longest run?"

lan: "I did a marathon."

Anthony: “Yeah, I remember you ran past my street and I woke up bright and early, and I was like [pretends to be half asleep and waves].”

lan: [smiling] “Yeah, yeah I did."

Anthony: "How long was that run?"

lan: "26.2 miles."

Anthony: "Daaaamm, I didn't know [the] marathon was 26.2 miles, shiiiit.”

lan: “Yeah, and I averaged a little under an 8 minute mile.”

Anthony: “That is not bad. For 20 times 26?! That's good!"

So couple things to cover here!

1. Anthony waking up early to catch lan run by his street so he could wave to him CAN YOU HEAR ME CRYING 😭 that's the cutest thing ever!

2. Anthony saying how good of a time lan got in the marathon is so sweet. I live for Anthony bigging him up 🥹

Anthony's Birthday

This next lot I'd call complimentary-by-extension. Anthony's birthday rolled around and in typical lan fashion this was the birthday tweet we got from him :-

Oh lan, wouldn't expect anything else from you 😅

Thought that was going to be it but then Mr. Padilla came through for us! And this was the particularly special moment I mentioned in the beginning of this post. He made the post linked in the main header of this section, thanking everyone for the birthday wishes and said how it had been Mykie and his anniversary the week previous and how she took him to the Grand Canyon. The post was all photos of the two of them, but in amongst it all, he included this gem :-

lan 💛

Isn't this just the softest thing.

I mean...

1. We finally get to see lan interacting with Anthony's dogs 🙌 Also the fact you can tell how comfortable they must be around him given the fact she's laying on his chest quite content which means lan is around them often enough to have that bond with them 🥹

2. The fact they spent Anthony's birthday together after so many years of birthdays unshared & it also makes Ian's tweet funnier, like him being next to Anthony, realising people are probably expecting him to publicly wish him 'happy birthday’, him writing the most basic tweet with a low-quality gif, posting it, and then going right back to hanging out with Anthony 😆

Aaaaand…...

3. Probably the softest thing about this, and where I'm going to get a bit emotional writing/thinking about it because I have a lot of feelings about it, is the fact Anthony included that photo of lan within his birthday/anniversary post. It's just so unbelievably soft. I cannot get over it. There was was no mention of lan in the caption or anywhere else, it was all photos of Anthony and Mykie, but within it, this one little candid shot of lan. It's so special. And says a lot without explicitly saying anything at all. It's just like, 'here's a post of things that matter to me.’ I like to imagine Anthony choosing the photos for that post, and even with it being a birthday/anniversary post, he still made the conscious decision to include that photo of lan. Something he didn't need to do, the photo wasn't relevant to the post, and yet, he included it anyways. He wants people to know that's how he spent his birthday, with the people he loves most - he couldn't not include that photo of lan. And I think it comes back around to the fact he's just so happy to have lan in his life again and he'll take every opportunity to say/show it. I can picture him sitting there looking at lan laying on his floor across from him, his dog on lan's chest, and his heart just feeling so full and happy at the fact he has his best friend with him again when a year ago he didn't think this would ever be a reality for him again. It's just so, so special ❤️

Finishing off Anthony's birthday was something that came a few days after :-

Anthony's response to lan's birthday tweet ☺️

What I also love about this, is the fact that lan never tagged Anthony in his tweet and given it was a few days later that Anthony responded and by that point the tweet would have been buried in his timeline, and also that Anthony barely uses Twitter. Knowing all these things it's very likely that Anthony searched for lan's account for him to see that tweet 🥰

POKEMON ROOMMATE BATTLE Watch Party

In the BTS for the POKEMON ROOMMATE BATTLE sketch lan keeps getting distracted playing Pokémon for the whole shoot, eventually getting the gameboy taken off of him by Erin 😅 In this livestream they're watching the sketch and Anthony says :-

[scene where 'lazy lan' is sitting in the beanbag playing Pokémon not wanting to move]

Anthony: “This is actually what you were like on set that day cause you were just playing Pokémon the whole day."

lan: "Oh yeah, so we rented that prop from like a prop house."

Anthony: “The gameboy."

lan: "The gameboy. And it was working - it was full battery, Pokémon Red was in it, and I booted it up and was like ‘There's no way. No. No’. and I was just straight up playing Pokémon on and it was-"

Anthony: "Was it everything you remembered?"

lan: "It was sick, dude. It was fun. I was having fun. I was getting really distracted and it was not good for the shoot. But I think I got my Charmander to like level 11 or 12."

Anthony: "Yeah, you nailed it."

Just a cute little compliment I felt should be included 🙂 But sticking with the Pokémon theme, it leads me on to the next compliment...

‘I Choose You' Smosh Hat

Anthony posted this Instagram promoting the Smosh Pokémon-style hat they released as merch, but what stood out to a lot of us is his choice of the first photo + the caption :-

THE IMPLICATIONS! Him crowning lan with the hat and him saying ‘I choose you' 🥹 It reminds me of something I covered in my first Compliments post - the section covering the Smoshcast with Anthony and Shayne saying how they came back together and "choose to be best friends again" 💛🖤

Our Actual Worst Puns (Puns of Anarchy)

Another round of games and compliment-adjacent moments :-

Ian: [handing the cards out]

Anthony: "Oh, look at you. You're providing for your family.”

Just found this moment cute, Anthony referring to them as a family 🥹

[Jackie chooses Anthony's card and he reveals it's his]

Jackie: "I take it back."

Anthony: “I'm also 'Hand Solo' though, so [the other card Jackie was going to pick]?

Arasha: "I'm so pissed [because Anthony is winning]."

Ian: "Wow. Anthony's cleaning up” [claps]

-

[Round Category: Baby Boomers]

Ian's card -' A Whole New World' changed to 'A new video of an old, white person freaking out’

Anthony: [picks Jackie's card] “That was good. Although, I will say, I know this was yours, lan [from his handwriting]. That was an adventure, man. I appreciate that."

This isn't the only time the handwriting thing is brought up in the video :-

Keith: "Dude, where's my car?' turns into, 'Dude, where's my car? Oh wait, I can't drive?’ By far the best one, lan. And I know this came from you."

Anthony: "I know it came from lan too, cause I can see the handwriting."

Why is Anthony being able recognise Ian's handwriting so cute. He just knows him so well ☺️

One other moment I loved from this video was something I already made a post about here. Of Jackie referring to them as 'best friends' and Anthony laughing the hardest at his answer firing shots at lan, again, bestie-ism shining through 😄

Joycon HIDE AND SEEK (Everybody 1, 2, Switch)

Last one of the month! This video was full of so many great moments - two lanthony piggybacks, so many bestie moments, and them just being overly cute the whole time 🥰

And also many moments of them complimenting each other on doing well in the games. So many that I decided to compile a little video. Enjoy! :-

And that was it for September!

Hope you all enjoyed and I shall see you next time ❤️