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tsuy4n · 5 days ago

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The Artist Who Lives for the Plot

Warning/s: Fem!Reader, Mild language/casual swearing, chaotic energy (duh), unhinged humor, reader suffering (comically)

[A/n]: I had so much fun writing, and dw. Part 2 will be coming soon. It's time to live with them. If it all fits, that'll be the last and final one! Thank you for your support <3

>Part 1<, Part 2

Day 1: Staff Badge, Zero Fear

You just received a job. Technically, a side-job.

You needed the extra cash. Rent was due next week, and at this point, the only thing growing faster than your stress was the mold in your bathroom.

Being a webtoon artist had always been the dream. You studied—poses, anatomy, lighting, shading, even a bit of photography thanks to that one kind sunbae back in high school. You poured years into perfecting your craft. But… doing your dream job in reality?

Yeah. Not exactly how you imagined it.

Making money through art was already hard. Add today’s economy into the mix, and suddenly budgeting meant rotating between cheap instant meals and whatever eggs were on sale. Not the healthiest diet, but it got you through deadlines. Mostly.

Anyway. Enough with that depressing backstory.

Today, you were helping out behind the scenes—cleaning up, running errands, doing whatever the other staff didn’t have time for. The entire building was in chaos, people rushing around, shouting schedules, checking equipment. Apparently, some new boy group was debuting soon.

Like, in a week or something? You hadn’t seen them yet, but you had heard things.

"They’re gorgeous," One of the stylists whispered while curling a wig. "Like, inhuman levels of beautiful."

That alone was enough to catch your attention.

You weren’t trying to ogle anyone. You just needed some visual inspiration. For art, obviously.

So when someone asked you to bring water to the practice room? You may or may not have speed-walked your way there with the excitement of a fangirl and the blank expression of a very tired assistant.

The moment you opened the door, chaos greeted you. They were arguing. And loud.

Great for drama. Better for material.

"Do you want to achieve world domination or not?!" The black-haired one snapped, voice sharp like he was conducting a military operation instead of a boy group practice.

"Then hit the beat— on time!"

Ah, the leader. Jinu, you think was his name.

"You're 0.5 seconds off." The one who's half of his face was covered with hair flatly said.

"I told you, it’s called flair." Said the one with pink hair, heart-shaped bangs framing his face.

"You mean lag." The mint haired muttered, eyes glued to his phone.

"Shut it." Groaned the one with the ridiculous muscles, dabbing sweat off his face like a disappointed gym coach. "Let’s just start from the top before Captain Serious combusts."

That’s when they noticed you.

But by then, you’d already seen them—and everything else.

Oh, your eyes. They were blinding.

It was like walking into a manhwa panel. Ethereal lighting. Sweat glistening on toned arms. Perfect jawlines. Tall, broad silhouettes. You barely managed not to trip over your own feet.

This was it. The vision. You felt it. The inspiration burning through your veins.

You cleared your throat, doing your best to keep a neutral expression as you set the bottles near the mirrors.

And then, you said it. Casual. Straight-faced. Deadpan. "If this is what world domination looks like, I think the lighting needs work."

Silence.

They stared, blinked, and glanced at one another. Confused.

Jinu sighed. "Let’s take five."

The rest of the group immediately relaxed, stretching, dropping to the floor, cheering like they’d survived a war. Understandable. You heard they’d been practicing for hours.

You tried not to stare. You failed.

A voice pulled your attention.

"Thanks for the drink, cutie." It's the long haired dude. His voice was smooth and his smile was confident, borderline illegal.

Romance. That had to be his stage name.

Your eyes did a quick scan. You were mentally labeling all of them. It wasn’t weird. Not in a weird way. No. This was research.

Another one, shirt clinging to his abs like it was painted on, snatched a bottle and chugged it like he hadn’t tasted water in days. Abby, clearly.

You blinked. He was broad. The kind of chest that made you think of shirt buttons fighting for their lives. He smirked at you.

You immediately looked away and bowed slightly, mouthing a silent apology for being caught staring.

Then your gaze moved to the one on his phone, laughing at something you can't tell.

"That's so dumb." Mint hair said under his breath. His face? Cute. His voice? Low. Totally not what you expected, but love. You eat that kinda character up in stories.

He must be Baby.

Then there was the guy with long pastel hair partially covering his face. He hadn’t said a word. He hadn’t even looked your way. Mysterious aura? Check. It's clear he's Mystery.

And finally, back to Jinu. The leader. He carried himself like someone dependable. Stern but fair, and he's like that because he wants to see them all succeed.

That's such an eye watering story.

You tried not to squeal. Really, you did. But your fingers were already itching to draw. You can't wait for break to come.

Speaking of break... You look at them. It's only been a minute since they started that. You shouldn't, yeah.

"Excuse me." And yet you're already speaking. "Would it be alright if I took some photos?"

The room quieted a little. You could practically hear their thoughts. Another poor staff member, helpless under their charms.

"Go ahead." Jinu said, offering a small smile. What a charming fella.

He seems like he’d be one of those knight captains in those historical webtoons. The kind who stands behind the throne, silent and strong, carrying the kingdom on his back without asking for thanks.

Daydreaming later, let’s get clicking!

With permission granted, you lit up and pulled out your phone, trying hard not to bounce in excitement. As soon as your camera opened, they were already posing.

Of course they were.

You took a few shots—clean, fast, a few from different angles. They assumed you were done. They assumed wrong.

You lowered your phone, frowned slightly, and pointed at Abby.

"Flex your arm. No—more toward that side. Yes, hold that. Chin down."

They all froze.

"Huh?" Abby blinked.

And just like that, a full-on impromptu photoshoot began. You were directing them like your life depended on it. They followed along, slightly confused but too prideful to stop now.

"Yo..." Abby muttered, peeking at one of the photos. "I didn’t know my abs could look this good. Muscle definition on point."

He's beyond satisfied and that boosts your confidence in your photography skills yet again.

Soon, the rest of them were swarming your phone, snatching it to see their pictures and gawk at their undeniably gorgeous self.

Before chaos could start between them, you took your phone back in your hands as a really huge and bright smile was on your face.

"Thank you so much for indulging this staff member her request!" You made your way to the door with an awkward half-bow, twisting the knob, turning back one last time.

"I’m rooting for you guys! You got this!"

And with that, you were gone. Silence lingered in the room.

"So are we just letting random staff direct us now?" Baby asked, glancing at the others. "Cool. Cool cool cool."

"Yeah." Romance agreed with a nod. "But she's cute isn't she?"

"Every girl’s cute to you." Abby said, bumping his shoulder against him and tossing an arm lazily around Romance’s neck. "Get new taste, man."

"She didn’t even ask for an autograph." Jinu added, almost puzzled. Usually people would ask for that. He did his research well, you know.

"She just wanted photos." Mystery mumbled, his head tilting slightly to the side.

"Of us," Abby said proudly, a sudden, inexplicable breeze swept through the room—no open windows, no vents. Just vibes(?)

The edge of Abby’s fitted shirt lifted slightly, just enough to reveal a flash of perfectly sculpted abs.

He smirked. "Duh."

Fast forward—

Your first day ended early. Convenient, right? That meant more time to look at the pictures you took earlier. You couldn’t wait to study those shots, not in a weird way.

You’d been stuck on one panel of your webtoon for days, and no matter how deep you dove into Pinterest or Google, nothing looked quite right.

But thanks to that idol group, your prayers were answered. Sort of.

You expected to be on the bus by now, earbuds in, zoning out to music. Instead, you were standing in front of a convenience store, digging through your bag for your wallet when a realization hit you like a truck.

No cable. No charger. Not even a hint of it.

You double-checked. Nope. Gone.

You groaned out loud, dragging a hand down your face.

"Perfect." You muttered with a scowl. "Love that for me."

Then again, a bit of late-night cardio never hurt anyone. Yeah, scratch that shit. The universe clearly hated you.

The studio was still unlocked, the lobby empty. You flashed your staff ID in front of the scanner near the door—it beeped, the lock clicked, and in you went.

The overhead lights had been dimmed. Most of the staff were long gone. The silence was oddly calming.

You retraced your steps, mentally going through every place you'd stopped during the day. The break room was empty. No luck. The side lounge? Same story.

Third option: the rehearsal room.

You sighed. "Third time’s the charm." You mumbled, adjusting the strap on your bag as you headed down the hallway.

Your steps slowed as you neared the practice room. The door was closed, but voices leaked through—low, intense. Not the usual banter or off-key singing. Just… murmurs. Uneven. Cult-like.

You blinked. 'Holy hell, they’re still practicing?'

You glanced at your phone. It was late. Your shift ended an hour ago.

What are they made of? Protein powder and ambition?

What are they eating? Dreams? Caffeine? Hope??

You needed to ask. Not for curiosity. For survival. Your deadline was crawling up your spine like a tax collector and you were this close to drawing stick figures for tomorrow’s update.

The lights under the door flickered—blue, then red, then something that looked like a Windows error message.

You stared. Paused. Maybe they were testing stage lights.

Maybe they were summoning Satan. You didn't care. You just needed your charger. So you pushed the door open.

"I’m really sorry for disturbing you, but—" No matter how tired you were from today’s chaos, you still had manners.

They stood in a loose circle, shadows stretched long and unnatural, and… was that a portal? How the hell did they manage that?

If it was an illusion, it was top-tier. What were they feeding these hologram artists? Everyone in this team was way too talented.

Six heads snapped toward you.

You only blinked, admiration shining in your eyes. "Cool cosplay. Is this for the music video?"

A beat of silence.

Then your gaze flicked to the ceiling, eyes narrowing in critique. "Lighting’s a bit much, though. Shadows are swallowing Jinu’s jawline—tragic. Tilt the main source up just a bit next time."

You said what you said and you don't want to wait for a reply. You turn on your phone flashlight and started scanning the floor, stepping past the demon-plush aesthetic like you were dodging cables on a cluttered set.

There. Your charger lay near the edge of the mirror wall.

You scooped it up with a triumphant sigh and gave them all a quick thumbs-up.

"Good luck on the scene rehearsal." You chirped, already walking toward the door.

Click.

The door shut behind you, leaving nothing but baffled beings.

"…Who was that?" One of the figures finally asked, voice low and sharp.

"Staff." Abby replied, blinking.

"A weird human." Baby added, eyes at the door just like the others.

The tallest demon tilted its head, "Should we take care of her?"

The hunger was clear in its tone. Like it could already taste your soul.

Jinu was the first to speak. "No," He said sharply. "Not yet."

There was a pause. The demon turned slightly toward him. "You hesitate."

"I don’t make moves without information." Jinu said, arms crossed. "She’s… off."

"Off?" One of the smaller ones asked. "She looked normal."

"She looked like she was analyzing us," He muttered as he thought back to your behavior from earlier. "Not scared. Not confused. She looked like she’d seen stranger things."

"She was watching our movements earlier," Mystery informed from his corner, his voice soft. "Sketchpad in her lap."

"You sure it's not some fanfic crap?" Baby deadpanned.

"No." Jinu replied, tone quieter now. "It wasn’t that kind of writing. It was too structured. Like she was mapping something out. Watching patterns."

The demons seemed vaguely amused by the theory.

"So… a spy?" One of them asked, half-joking.

"Maybe," Jinu’s expression darkened. "Or something else. Either way, I’ll figure it out."

He didn’t voice the rest:

She looked one of the demon in the eye like she was judging him.

She also told them to fix the lighting.

She moved like the demon was interrupting her schedule.

Either she’s an expert who’ll be a problem later…or just another idiot with good timing and bad boundaries. Still. Better to play it safe.

The demons didn’t press. They glanced at one another then shrugged. Fine. Let him figure it out. Would’ve been more fun if he let them eat her soul, but hey—he’s the leader.

Without another word, they vanished through the pink portals back to the demon realm, leaving behind silence.

It didn’t last long.

Romance sighed dreamily. "Okay but… if she is a spy, she’s kinda hot."

Jinu didn’t reply. He just rubbed his temples, the beginnings of a headache forming right behind his eyes.

First a debut, now possible espionage from the world’s most dead-eyed assistant with a sketchpad.

Great.

He’d already built enough stress to level a small village. Now this?

…Cool. Fine. He’ll handle it. He always does.

Still.

Lighting advice?? Who just— No. Never mind. He stood straighter, his focus clear as glass.

He'll take care of you sooner or later once he knows your motive.

And so you lived through the first day of your new side-job.

Sure, it ended with strange flickering lights, a suspiciously cult-like gathering, and the very real possibility that the idol group you just met might be into LARPing or, worse, weird method acting.

But hey, sick concept. You respect the dedication. You genuinely hoped they listened to your advice about the lighting.

Still, your charger was back in your bag, your sketchpad was bursting with ideas, you get to draw that panel finally, and your rent wouldn’t pay itself.

So, if a bunch of pretty boys wanted to summon smoke and dramatic lighting on company time?

Not your business—as long as they made great reference material.

As you draw, you think things like:

Abby’s arms practically had their own agency. You swore his biceps flexed every time he blinked.

Jinu looked like a man carrying the weight of his group… and your outstanding bills.

And Romance? Prince face, main character energy, and probably the type to Google himself just to read the fan comments.

You, on the other hand, were so innocently, completely unaware of what awaited you.

Probably harassment, but definitely plot.

Day 2: HR Is Not Ready for This

You didn’t expect much on your second day.

Maybe some light sweating, a few awkward water runs, and enough quiet time to sneak in some sketching or brainstorm for ideas on your story.

You just wanted to observe, breathe, survive. Simple.

But the universe and apparently five very nosy boys had other plans.

The moment you entered the room, the air shifted. Not dramatically. Just enough to feel… watched.

Your gaze moved from one to the next—Abby adjusting his shirt (and definitely flexing more than needed), Mystery casually stretching nearby like a ninja cat, Baby muttering to himself while scrolling, and Jinu… he was definitely looking at you.

But you didn’t notice that.

You were too focused on your clipboard, scribbling poses and notes like a diligent little artist.

"You’ve been staring again."

You jumped a little. Jinu’s voice. Low. Observant.

You blinked up at him. "Oh, um— sorry?"

His brow arched before a tiny smile tugged at his lips. An attempt to lighten up the air around. "It’s fine. Just… felt like you were memorizing our skeletons."

You laughed, a little too nervously. "No! I mean—well, kind of? I’m an artist."

"...Right."

Was that judgment? You should be offended, right? Yes. But inside.

"It’s for character design," You explained. "I draw for webtoons. You guys are… kind of perfect models."

Jinu studied you. Scribbly. Polite. Very tired. But his gut didn’t trust you. "…Just don’t publish anything weird about us."

You gave him a two-finger salute. "No promises."

He walked off—suspicious, calculating, and weirdly handsome about it.

You sighed, then looked down. You’d circled a line on your page.

"Too symmetrical. Suspicious."

The second day at work is fun! Yeah, right. Fucking fuck. Today's exhausting. And not the "Wow, they’re so dreamy, I’m swooning~" kind.

No. This was “I swear to god if one of them breathes over my shoulder again, I will throw this pen” level of tired.

You were just trying to observe quietly, take notes, and survive the shift.

But subtle glances? Apparently that translated to "please, harass me."

Romance started singing, badly, every time your pen moved. Said it helped set the mood. You told him to change the playlist.

Abby kept "accidentally" standing right in your view. Shirt raised. Flex engaged. Asking, "How’s the lighting on my triceps now?"

Mystery appeared over your shoulder with zero warning, stared at your sketch, nodded, then vanished again like an IKEA ghost.

Baby? Baby muttered your critique out loud just to mess with you.

"‘Neck angle inconsistent’? Wow, harsh." All while smirking so handsomely. Baby. As in the one from hell. With Wi-Fi and zero respect for your peace. Like his fucking members.

You squinted at him, nearly blessing the world with the ugliest scowl known to man. "How are you even reading that from across the room?"

He didn’t answer. He just smiled wider.

Oh, these bastards were enjoying your suffering.

Was bullying the new staff part of their team-building exercises? Hazing disguised as charisma? They haven’t even debuted yet!

The audacity when their Spotify numbers are still at zero.

You'd think world domination came with manners, but no.

Contrary to their faces—artfully sculpted by angels or Photoshop—their personalities were straight-up hellspawn. (Ironic.)

By the time you were done, your social battery had collapsed into dust. You passed by a staff member in the hallway, maybe a stylist or someone from props.

"You look… drained."

You nodded. "Drained is generous. I feel like I’ve been emotionally dry-cleaned."

They laughed. You didn’t. You're mourning your peace.

Meanwhile, back in the practice room:

The air was quieter now. But tense.

Jinu stood near the speaker, arms crossed. His expression unreadable. "She’s hiding something."

The others didn’t laugh this time.

"Maybe she’s just weird." Baby offered his thought.

"Doesn’t mean she’s not dangerous." Jinu replied.

"So what, we just keep annoying her until she cracks?" Romance said, upside-down on the couch, legs kicking in the air like a chaotic cat.

"No." Jinu’s eyes didn’t waver. "We keep watching her until she shows us what she’s really here for.”

There was a beat of silence.

Then Abby grinned like he's excited and can't wait to act whatever on his mind. "So. Strategic pestering. Got it."

Jinu didn’t stop him, or anyone of the boys. Whatever it takes to make you crack he guess.

Later that night, you collapsed at your desk.

Still alive. Barely.

You flipped open your sketchpad, flipping past pages of poses, muscle references, and narrowed notes.

"Abby’s arms could run their own business."

"Romance: pretty, but loud."

"Baby = gremlin with a phone."

"Mystery—??? Stop teleporting???"

You sighed, poked at your charger, then scribbled one last line before calling it a night.

If tomorrow’s like this again, I might fake a cold. Or a coma. Or both.

Still... their interest in your art? Kind of flattering. Mostly annoying.

#kpop demon hunters #kpdh #reverse harem #female reader #saja boys #saja boys x reader #jinu kpdh #baby kpdh #abby kpdh #romance kpdh #mystery kpdh

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cometjuice · 5 months ago

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A Collection of Will Solace Headcanons

Because Will is my favorite character, I have decided to compile a bunch of headcanons I have for him (and Nico but mostly him)

Will is an introvert forcibly turned extrovert. He still prefers to be by himself a lot of the time. When he was younger he used to be a very shy kid, not talking much and sticking to Lee's side like a leech. After his and Michael's deaths, he was forced out of his shell.

Will has been a year round camper for nearly ten years. His mom is a traveling musician and couldn't protect him properly while on the road. She sends him postcards every week.

Will is deaf/hard of hearing. He didn't learn how to speak english until he was about nine years old, being dropped off at camp at seven and a half with a sign with his name on it and his age. He was always quiet, but the Hephaestus cabin made him a pair of hearing aids. They still help him out when they break.

Will and Annabeth have known each other for a long, LONG time. They weren't really friends, but Annabeth was always nice to him. She did think he was kind of odd.

He has a morbid obsession with body parts and taxidermy. He used to ask his brothers to get him a pig heart in a jar for him to look at. Kinda freaked them out for a while...

Despite Will's usually very chill demeanor, he's INCREDIBLY neurotic when it comes to certain things. Like when he eats breakfast, how long he showers, his morning and evening routines.

Nico and Will first bond over their interests in human anatomy. The first time Nico raised a skeleton to try and scare Will off when he was being annoying, Will thought it was extremely cool and asked Nico if he could keep it in his room. Obviously he couldn't, but he did give Will a jar of wrist bones so Will could practice assembling and naming them.

Will HATES needles. He has no problem working with them and using them as tools, but if he gets stuck with one? He faints.

Will has set up a "crash pad" in the infirmary; aka, a pile of pillows on the floor under his desk where he passes out for an hour during long stints at the infirmary. No one except Kayla and Austin (and now Nico) know about it.

Will made his siblings promise that if he ever got hurt in battle and was out of commission, they would hide him in a far cot away from everyone else. He says it's so no one freaks out at him being hurt.

Will's dream is to own a vintage Chevy pick up truck. A true Texan at heart.

Will was effectively mute before he came to CHB. His mom couldn't afford to buy him hearing aids, so she only spoke in sign language to him growing up. It wasn't until he was taught by Chiron that he learned how to speak English, along with Greek.

Will prefers cats over dogs. He likes their independence (maybe also that he can lean on them emotionally a little). He wishes he could have one.

Will can hide his expressions like a PRO. He has an iron clad grip on his emotions, and only started to break down and learn to accept how to be angry and sad when he and Nico got into a fight and Nico forced him to face how dishonest he's been with himself. Since then, Will has become more open towards him. He still needs to work on becoming more open in general.

Will has plague powers (as explored in TSATS) and Nico helps him harness them. Once, he gave Nico chicken pox by accident and refused to come out of a self-imposed isolation for two weeks. It took Percy breaking down the office door to finally drag him out. That's all for now! I will have more!

#solangelo #will solace #nico di angelo #pjo hoo toa tsats #pjo hoo toa #pjo #pjo fandom #riordanverse #the sun and the star

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moluvies · 28 days ago

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touch starved ꔛ hange zoe x reader (pt 2)

a/n: part two to yearning !

words: 5.8k

cw: fwb kinda, kinda jealous! hange, they/them pronouns for hange, hange has fem anatomy, she/her pronouns and fem anatomy for reader, fingering, cunnilingus, MDNI !!

ꔛ

Your heart raced as you made your way to Commander Erwin's office, the clicking of your boots on the hardwood floor and your heart pounding in your chest deafening as you made the short journey there. After returning from the scouting expedition, things got busy. The thing with Hange was... complicated. Not really, though, if you thought about it more thoroughly. Everyone was busy, everyone was drained, and everyone was going through the motions until the next expedition.

Hange and you rarely saw each other, mostly because they were still recovering from the injury on their leg and spent most of the days in their office working or in the tiny research facility—both places not being areas you frequented. Especially when you were temporarily assigned to a totally different post now that you'd gotten back.

It had been a week, but the encounter you and Hange shared never stopped running through your mind once.

That's when one of your fellow scouts came and told you Commander Erwin wanted to see you in his office, and you almost passed out from anxiety. A bunch of unwarranted and unrealistic scenarios presented themselves in your brain, like what if the Commander could read minds? Did he see you were distracted?

You wanted to throw up when you knocked on the door, and shook when his distinct voice told you to come in.

You pushed open the heavy wooden door, your palm damp with sweat against the handle. Commander Erwin sat at his desk, posture impeccable, his attention focused on a report. Without looking up, he gestured toward the chair across from him.

"Take a seat."

You complied, back straight and hands folded in your lap, trying to maintain composure despite your racing pulse. The Commander finished reading whatever document had captured his attention, signed the bottom with a practiced flourish, and finally lifted his gaze to meet yours.

"I appreciate your promptness," he said, his voice measured and even. His expression revealed nothing—the same calm, calculating look he wore during strategy meetings.

"Sir," you responded with a crisp nod, not trusting yourself to say more.

Commander Erwin folded his fingers and regarded you steadily. "I've received some concerns about efficiency within our ranks since returning from the expedition."

Your mouth went dry. This was it.

"Section Commander Hange's productivity has been compromised as of late," he continued, his tone factual rather than accusatory. "Captain Levi has brought this to my attention multiple times in the past week."

You remained silent, unsure if you were expected to respond. Despite that, a million thoughts ran in your head. Hange was distracted and it was because of you? And Captain Levi of all people was the the one to complain?

"I don't usually involve myself in matters outside direct military operations," Erwin said, "but when the functionality of our command structure is affected, it becomes my concern."

"I understand, Commander," you managed to say, your voice steadier than you expected.

Erwin's piercing blue eyes studied you carefully. "The Survey Corps operates under unique circumstances. Every soldier must prioritize the mission above all else, without exception."

You nodded stiffly, bracing for the reprimand.

"That said," he continued, "I've always maintained that a soldier's personal conduct is their own affair, provided it doesn't interfere with their duties or the chain of command."

A slight frown crossed his features—not of disapproval, but of consideration. "I trust my officers to exercise sound judgment in all matters. Section Commander Hange is a valuable asset to humanity's cause. As are you, in your position."

His emphasis on rank wasn't lost on you. A subtle reminder of the hierarchy that existed between you and Hange.

"Yes, sir," you replied.

Erwin reached into a drawer and extracted a stack of papers bound with twine. "These are the topographical surveys from our last expedition. Section Commander Hange has requested them three times today."

He placed the papers on the desk between you. "They're currently in the research facility, likely disrupting everyone else's work schedule with their impatience."

Was that the faintest hint of knowing in his voice? You couldn't be sure. His expression remained professionally neutral.

"I'd like you to deliver these immediately," he said, pushing the papers toward you. "And remind Section Commander Hange that their analysis report is due on my desk by tomorrow evening."

You stood, taking the papers with a salute. "Yes, Commander."

As you turned to leave, Erwin spoke again, his tone unchanged. "One moment."

You paused, facing him once more.

"The Survey Corps functions best when every member operates at optimal capacity," he said. "Whatever arrangements ensure that outcome are acceptable, provided they do not compromise our organizational structure or mission objectives."

His words were clinical, detached, yet you sensed the meaning behind them. This was Erwin's way—speaking in strategic terms while conveying something more.

"Understood, sir."

"Good," he said with a curt nod. "That will be all."

You saluted again and exited his office, the door clicking shut behind you. In the empty hallway, you exhaled slowly, clutching the papers to your chest.

Had the commander just given his tacit approval? Or merely established boundaries? With Erwin Smith, it was often difficult to tell. His words could be interpreted multiple ways—perhaps intentionally so. It was up to the Commander to be able to deny involvement if needed. And honestly, sometimes you felt too dumb to speak with him because of his big words and serious way of speaking.

What was clear, however, was that you hadn't been reassigned or separated from Hange's command. And now you had a legitimate reason to seek them out after a week apart.

The research facility wasn't far from headquarters—a converted storehouse with reinforced walls where Hange conducted their more questionable experiments. As you approached, the familiar sound of their enthusiastic voice carried through the air, punctuated by what sounded like something heavy being dragged across the floor.

You took a deep breath, straightened your uniform jacket, and knocked on the door, the stack of papers clutched tightly in your hands.

"Come in!" Hange's voice called out, bright and energetic.

You pushed open the door to find the research facility in its usual state of organized chaos. Books and papers were scattered across multiple tables, specimen jars lined the shelves, and various contraptions that you couldn't begin to identify occupied every available surface. The familiar scent of chemicals and parchment filled your nostrils.

"Ah, finally!" Hange exclaimed, looking up from where they were hunched over a microscope. Their hair was more disheveled than usual, falling loose from their ponytail, and their glasses sat slightly askew on their nose. But what caught your attention immediately was how they moved—no longer favoring their injured leg as heavily as they had been.

Moblit stood nearby, arms crossed and looking exasperated. "Section Commander, you've been asking about those surveys every hour. Perhaps if you'd waited patiently—"

"Patience is for people who aren't on the verge of a breakthrough!" Hange interrupted, practically bouncing on their feet as they spotted the papers in your hands. The sight made your heart skip—they seemed so much more like their usual animated self.

"The topographical surveys," you said, extending the bound papers toward them.

Hange's eyes lit up as they reached for the papers, their fingers briefly brushing against yours in the exchange. The contact was fleeting, but it sent a familiar warmth up your arm that you tried to suppress under Moblit's watchful gaze.

"Perfect timing!" Hange said, immediately untying the twine and spreading the papers across the nearest cleared surface. "Moblit, look at this—if we cross-reference these elevation markers with the titan movement patterns we documented..."

You found yourself watching them work, noting how their leg seemed to support their weight without the visible discomfort from the previous week. The way they moved with renewed energy, the familiar gesture of pushing their glasses up their nose when concentrating, the animated way they gestured while explaining their theories to Moblit—it all stirred something deep in your chest.

The memory of that night in the tent seemed to hang in the air between you, unspoken but present. Was Hange thinking about it, too? The way you touched each other, the way you spoke like it was the beginning of something new... were they as affected as you?

"This could change everything about how we approach formation strategies," Hange continued, tracing routes on the survey maps with their finger. "If titans are actually avoiding certain geological features..."

Moblit sighed, shooting you a look that seemed to say 'here we go again.' "Section Commander, you've been working for seven hours straight. Perhaps you should take a break?"

"Break?" Hange looked up, blinking owlishly. "But we're so close to—" Their gaze met yours across the table, and for a moment, the excited chatter died in their throat. Something shifted in their expression, becoming softer, more aware.

The silence stretched for a beat too long, and you became acutely conscious of Moblit's presence, of the way he was looking between you and Hange with growing suspicion.

"I should go," you said quickly, taking a step toward the door. "Let you get back to your work."

"Wait," Hange said, straightening up. They glanced at Moblit, then back at you. "Actually, Moblit, didn't you mention needing to check on the supply requisitions?"

Moblit's brow furrowed. "I can do that later, Section Commander. You shouldn't be alone when you're working with these chemical compounds—"

"I'll be fine," Hange insisted, waving a hand dismissively. "Besides, I might need someone to help me carry these reference books back to my office later." They gestured vaguely toward you, the request casual but loaded with implication.

You felt your pulse quicken. After a week of careful avoidance, of stolen glances across the mess hall and brief, professional exchanges in passing, the prospect of being alone with Hange again made your mouth go dry.

Moblit looked between you both again, his expression unreadable. Finally, he sighed and removed his apron. "Very well. But please don't stay too late, Section Commander. And don't attempt to move any heavy equipment while I'm gone."

"Of course not," Hange said, though their tone suggested they were barely listening.

You turned your head to watch Moblit as he left, opening the door and shutting it behind him.

That was all it took before Hange was on you.

“Fuck, I missed you,” Hange breathed, their voice rough with need as they crowded into your space, their hands immediately finding your waist, tugging you hard against them. Their body was warm, solid—so much more alive than you remembered, their heartbeat thundering against your chest as they pressed flush against you.

You gasped, startled by the suddenness of it, your hands instinctively flying up to brace against their shoulders. “Hange—wait, what if Moblit comes back? Or—or someone else—?”

Hange didn’t let you finish. Their mouth crashed into yours, hot and insistent, swallowing your protests with a desperate, messy kiss that left your head spinning. Their lips were soft but demanding, their tongue sliding against yours with a possessive urgency that made your knees tremble. You could feel how much they’d missed you—how starved they were for this—and it sent a sharp, dizzying thrill straight to your core.

“Moblit won’t be back for at least twenty minutes,” Hange murmured between feverish kisses, their fingers tightening possessively on your hips. “And I need you. Fuck, I’ve been thinking about you—about how you tasted, how you sounded when I had you—”

A whimper tore from your throat at their words, your face burning as your body reacted instantly, heat pooling low in your stomach. You wanted this—God, you’d been aching for it all week—but the fear of getting caught, of someone walking in and seeing you like this, made your pulse spike with nervous excitement.

Hange didn’t seem to care. They were already dragging you backward, their lips never leaving yours, until your back hit the nearest wall with a quiet thud. The impact knocked the breath from your lungs, but Hange didn’t give you time to recover—their hands sliding underneath your shirt to paw at your breasts.

“Hange—!” you gasped, your voice trembling as their palms skimmed over your skin, their touch searing.

“Shhh, I’ve got you,” they murmured, their voice low and honey-sweet despite the rough way they were handling you.

Then you heard the unmistakeable sound you were so nervous you'd hear.

Footsteps. Outside the door.

You froze, panic flooding your veins.

“Hange—someone’s coming—”

Hange groaned in frustration, their grip on you tightening for a second before they reluctantly pulled away. Their lips were kiss-swollen, their hair even messier than before, their glasses slightly askew. They looked ravished.

The door swung open without warning, the hinges creaking in the sudden silence.

"Four-eyes, Moblit says you've been—" Captain Levi stopped mid-sentence, his steel-gray eyes taking in the scene with the sharp assessment of someone who'd seen too much to be surprised by anything.

"Captain Levi!" Hange's voice pitched slightly higher than usual. "What brings you to—"

"You," Levi's gaze shifted to you, flat and unimpressed, "are supposed to be on perimeter duty. Third shift reported you missing twenty minutes ago."

Your stomach dropped. "Sir, I was delivering—"

"The surveys. I know." His attention moved back to Hange, who was now frantically shuffling papers on the table as if that would somehow restore order to the chaos. "And you've apparently been working for eight hours straight without food or water. Again."

Hange waved dismissively. "I'm fine, Levi. Just had a breakthrough with the formation data and—"

"You look like shit." Levi's voice was deadpan. He stepped further into the room, closing the door behind him with deliberate slowness. "When's the last time you bathed? Or slept in an actual bed instead of face-down on your research notes?"

"I slept... yesterday. Or was it the day before?" Hange's hand went to their hair self-consciously.

Levi's expression remained unchanged, but something in his posture suggested he was fighting the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. His gaze flicked between you both once more, lingering on your still-flushed face and Hange's wrinkled shirt.

"Right." He crossed his arms. "You're going to eat something that isn't stale bread and whatever expired shit you keep in here. And you're going to sleep. Tonight. In your actual quarters."

"But the analysis report—"

"Will be shit if you write it while half-dead from exhaustion." Levi's tone brooked no argument. He looked at you again. "And you're going to report to your assigned post. Now."

"Yes, sir," you managed, your voice barely above a whisper.

Your heart raced as you hurried past him, catching Hange's usual expression in your peripheral vision. Behind you, you could already hear Levi beginning his lecture about proper nutrition and hygiene habits, his voice carrying its usual note of long-suffering irritation.

The hallway felt impossibly long as you made your way back to your duties, your heart still hammering against your ribs.

ꔛ

After the tense encounter with Captain Levi in the research facility, you had spent the rest of the evening on edge, your stomach twisting with a mix of embarrassment and lingering arousal. The memory of Hange’s hands on you, the way their lips had claimed yours with such desperate hunger—it had left you restless, unable to focus on anything else. The fear of being caught had only amplified the thrill of it, and now, hours later, you still felt the ghost of their touch on your skin.

You had retreated to your quarters as soon as your shift ended, desperate for the comfort of solitude. The warm water of the shower had done little to ease the tension coiled in your muscles, but it had at least washed away the day’s exhaustion, leaving your skin flushed and tingling. Now, dressed in soft cotton pajamas—a loose shirt and shorts that barely brushed your thighs—you sat on the edge of your bed, running a towel through your damp hair.

The barracks were quiet at this hour, most of the scouts already asleep or lost in their own private routines. The flickering candle on your nightstand cast long shadows across the room, the only sound the occasional creak of the old wooden building settling into the night.

And then—knock knock knock.

A rapid, almost giddy series of taps against your door.

You froze, the towel still tangled in your fingers.

Then it came again—knock knock knock—more insistent this time, accompanied by an impatient little shuffle of feet outside.

Hange Zoe.

Their face was pressed way too close to the door, their single visible eye magnified comically through the tiny lens, their grin wide enough that you could see the flash of their teeth even in the dim hallway torchlight. Their hair was even messier than usual, strands sticking out at odd angles like they’d been running their hands through it repeatedly. Their glasses were slightly askew, and—were they blushing?

Hange practically vibrated on the spot, their hands fidgeting at their sides, their weight shifting from foot to foot like they were barely containing their energy. They were still in their uniform, though their jacket was half-unbuttoned, the cuffs rolled up haphazardly, and their boots untied?

“Hi,” they breathed, their voice a little too loud for the quiet of the hallway, their grin widening impossibly further.

You bit your lip, glancing up and down the corridor to make sure no one else was around before stepping back to let them in. “Hange, what are you—?”

They didn’t let you finish.

The moment you shut the door behind them, Hange practically lunged at you, their hands immediately finding your waist as they backed you up against the wall with a soft thud. Their lips crashed into yours, messy and desperate, their breath hot against your skin as they kissed you like they’d been starving for it.

“Missed you—fuck—missed you so much,” Hange gasped between feverish kisses, their fingers digging into your hips like they were afraid you’d disappear. Their glasses bumped awkwardly against your nose, but they didn’t care, their mouth moving against yours with an almost frantic urgency.

You whimpered, your hands flying up to tangle in their wild brown hair, tugging slightly just to hear the way they groaned into your mouth. Their tongue swiped against your bottom lip, demanding entry, and you let them in with a shudder, melting against them as they deepened the kiss, their hands roaming over your body like they were trying to memorize every curve.

“You taste so good,” Hange mumbled against your lips, their voice rough with want. “Been thinking about this all damn week—about how you sound when you come, how your body shakes—”

A whimper tore from your throat, your face burning at their words, but Hange just grinned, nipping at your lower lip before diving back in, their kisses growing sloppier, hungrier. Their hands slipped under your shirt, warm palms skimming up your sides, thumbs brushing over the sensitive skin just beneath your breasts.

“Hange—” you gasped, arching into their touch, your heart hammering so hard you were sure they could feel it.

“Mmm, say it again,” they murmured, their lips trailing down to your jaw, then your neck, teeth scraping lightly over your pulse point. “Love the way you say my name—like I’m all you think about.”

You did think about them. All the time. And the way they were touching you now, kissing you like they couldn’t get enough, only made it worse—your head spun, your body aching with need.

Hange pulled back just enough to look at you, their eyes dark behind their glasses, their lips kiss-swollen and glistening. They were grinning, that same wild, excited grin they got when they were on the verge of a scientific breakthrough—except now, you were the discovery they couldn’t get enough of.

“You’re adorable when you’re all shy,” they teased, their thumb brushing over your bottom lip. “Bet you’d be even cuter if I—”

You didn’t let them finish. You yanked them back into another kiss, your fingers tightening in their hair, and Hange laughed against your mouth, delighted, before surrendering completely, their body pressing yours harder into the wall as their hands roamed lower, hungrier.

And you? You were theirs. Completely.

The frantic energy between you shifted as Hange backed you toward the bed, their hands never leaving your body. When your knees hit the edge, you tumbled backward with a soft gasp, and Hange followed eagerly, crawling over you with that same wild grin on their face.

"Your hair's all damp," they murmured, fingers threading through the still-wet strands. Their weight settled half on top of you, one leg slotted between yours, their glasses sliding down their nose as they gazed down at you with hungry eyes. "Were you in the shower thinking about me?"

You turned away, unable to deny it, which only made Hange's grin widen, a look of pure delight crossing their features. Before you could stammer out a response, their mouth was on yours again, softer this time but no less demanding. Their tongue traced the seam of your lips before slipping inside, exploring your mouth with enthusiastic curiosity.

Their hand wandered beneath your loose sleep shirt, fingers tracing patterns on your bare skin that made you shiver. You sighed into their mouth, one hand coming up to tangle in their wild hair while the other gripped their shoulder, anchoring yourself against the wave of sensation.

"Oh! I forgot to tell you—" you started, then whimpered when Hange's thumb brushed the underside of your breast, "Commander Erwin said—said your report is due tomorrow evening."

Hange froze for a heartbeat, pulling back just enough to look at you with narrowed eyes. "You're thinking about Erwin right now? While I'm touching you?" Their voice held a playful edge, but something possessive flashed in their gaze.

"No! I just remembered—"

"Hmm," they hummed skeptically, a teasing smile tugging at their lips. They dipped down to kiss you again, more deliberately this time, their tongue sliding against yours in a way that made your toes curl. When they pulled back, you were panting. "Should I be worried about you and our handsome commander?"

You rolled your eyes, trying to maintain some semblance of composure despite your racing heart. "Don't be ridiculous—"

Hange cut you off with another kiss, deeper this time, their hand sliding up to fully cup your breast through your shirt. You arched into their touch with a gasp, coherent thought rapidly deserting you.

"Because if Erwin thinks he can steal my favorite research assistant," they continued, voice dropping to a husky murmur as they pinched your nipple lightly, making you squirm beneath them, "I'll have to remind him that I have exclusive access to this particular specimen."

Their hands were everywhere at once—sliding under your sleep shirt, tugging at the waistband of your shorts, tangling in your damp hair. You arched into their touch, desperate for more, whimpering when they suddenly pulled back.

"Take these off," Hange commanded, tugging at your clothes with impatient hands. "I want to see all of you."

You complied eagerly, lifting your hips so they could slide your shorts down your legs, then raising your arms as they pulled your shirt over your head. The cool air of the room made your nipples harden, and Hange's eyes darkened behind their glasses as they took in the sight of you, completely bare beneath them.

"Beautiful," they murmured, their gaze roaming hungrily over your exposed body.

Their fingers trailed up your inner thigh, so close to where you needed them but not quite there. You squirmed, trying to guide their hand where you wanted it, but Hange just chuckled, clearly enjoying your desperation.

"Patience," they teased, their thumb brushing tantalizingly close to your center. "I'm conducting very important research here."

"Hange, please—" you gasped, your hips lifting involuntarily.

"Please what?" Their eyes glinted mischievously. "Tell me what you want. Be specific—you know how I love detailed observations."

Your face burned with embarrassment, but the ache between your legs overrode your shyness. "Touch me," you whispered. "Inside me."

Hange's grin widened, triumphant. "Good girl," they praised, the words sending a fresh wave of heat through you. "Now turn over for me. On your stomach."

You hesitated for just a moment before rolling onto your front, face half-buried in the pillow. Hange's hands immediately went to your hips, lifting them slightly.

"Arch your back," they instructed, their voice husky with desire. "Yes, just like that. Perfect."

You felt terribly exposed in this position, your ass raised, face down in the bedding, but the way Hange's breath hitched told you they were enjoying the view immensely. Their hands caressed the curve of your ass reverently, squeezing the soft flesh with appreciative murmurs.

"I've been thinking about this all week," they confessed, their voice rough with need. "About having you just like this—spread open for me, so I can see every perfect inch of you."

Their fingers trailed your ass, dipping lower to slide through your already-slick folds. You gasped at the contact, burying your face deeper into the pillow to muffle the sound.

"Oh," Hange breathed, sounding delighted. "You're so wet already. Is that all for me?"

You nodded frantically into the pillow, unable to form words as their fingers explored your sensitive flesh, gathering your arousal and spreading it with teasing strokes.

"I can't hear you," Hange said, their tone light but demanding. "Tell me who makes you this wet."

"You," you managed, voice muffled by the pillow. "Only you, Hange."

"That's right," they hummed, satisfied. "Not Erwin, not anyone else. Just me."

Without warning, they slipped a finger inside you, making you cry out at the sudden intrusion. Your walls clenched around them, hungry for more, and Hange groaned behind you.

"Fuck, you feel incredible," they breathed, slowly working their finger in and out of you. "So tight, so eager for me."

They added a second finger, stretching you deliciously, their other hand stroking soothingly down your spine as they began to establish a rhythm. The angle was different like this—deeper, more intense—and you couldn't help the broken moans that escaped you with each thrust of their fingers.

"I need to see better," Hange murmured, more to themselves than to you. You felt the bed shift as they repositioned, kneeling between your spread legs to get a closer view. "God, look at the way you take my fingers—the way your pretty little cunt just swallows them up."

Their clinical observation, delivered in that passionate, wonder-filled tone they usually reserved for titan research, should have embarrassed you. Instead, it sent a fresh flood of arousal coating their fingers, your body responding to being the focus of their fascination.

Hange grinned, curling their fingers to stroke that spot inside you that made your vision blur. "So responsive to stimuli. Let me try something..."

They withdrew their fingers slightly, only to add a third, the stretch making you gasp and clutch at the sheets. Hange paused, letting you adjust, their free hand rubbing soothing circles on your lower back.

"Too much?" they asked, a rare note of concern breaking through their scientific enthusiasm.

"No," you panted, pushing back against their hand. "More, please—"

Hange chuckled, the sound warm and pleased. "Greedy little thing, aren't you?" They resumed their movements, fucking you steadily with three fingers now, the obscene wet sounds filling the quiet room. "I love how desperate you get for me. How your body just opens up, like it was made to take me inside."

Your thighs began to quiver with the effort of maintaining your position, pleasure building relentlessly as Hange worked their fingers in and out of you. They seemed entranced by the sight, occasionally murmuring praise or filthy observations that made your face burn and your pussy clench around them.

"Look how wet you're getting," they marveled, their free hand sliding up to grasp your hip, holding you steady as their pace increased. "Dripping down your thighs—fuck, that's hot."

The combination of their words and the rhythmic pressure of their fingers against that perfect spot inside you had you racing toward the edge. Your back arched deeper, pressing your chest into the mattress as you rocked back against their hand, desperate for more.

"Hange," you whimpered, the familiar tension coiling tighter in your belly. "I'm close."

"I know," they said, voice tight with their own arousal. "I can feel it—the way you're squeezing my fingers, getting even wetter. Are you going to come for me? Let me see it happen, let me feel you fall apart."

You came with a strangled cry, your inner walls pulsing around their fingers, your whole body shaking as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you. Hange worked you through it, murmuring praise and encouragement as you rode out your orgasm on their hand.

"Beautiful," they breathed as your tremors subsided, slowly withdrawing their fingers. "Absolutely fucking beautiful."

You collapsed onto the bed, boneless and panting, only to feel Hange's weight shift behind you. You turned your head just in time to see them bring their glistening fingers to their mouth, sucking them clean with a groan of pure pleasure.

"Delicious," they declared, eyes locking with yours as their tongue swirled around their fingers. "Better than any experiment."

Despite your exhaustion, you felt a fresh pulse of desire at the sight. Hange noticed, their lips curving into a knowing smile as they released their fingers with an obscene pop.

"Don't think we're done yet," they warned, eyes gleaming. "I still need my turn, and you look like you've got plenty more to give me."

They flopped onto their back beside you, still fully clothed, though their shirt was rumpled and half-unbuttoned. They beckoned you with a crook of their finger, that familiar manic grin spreading across their face.

"Come here," they said, patting their thighs. "I want that pretty mouth of yours."

You pushed yourself up on shaky arms, crawling over to them with renewed purpose. Your fingers worked at the buttons of their shirt, revealing more of their lean, scarred torso with each one that came undone. Hange watched you with hooded eyes, their breath quickening as you pushed the fabric aside to expose their chest.

"These too," you murmured, tugging at their pants. Hange lifted their hips, allowing you to pull the garment down their legs, leaving them in just their underwear.

You traced the outline of their arousal through the thin fabric, delighting in their sharp intake of breath. "Can I?" you asked, fingers hooking under the waistband.

"Yes," Hange hissed, lifting their hips again. "God, yes."

You pulled the underwear down slowly, teasingly, until Hange was completely bare before you. Your mouth watered at the sight of them, slick and swollen with need.

"You're so wet," you whispered, echoing their earlier words as you settled between their spread legs.

"Your fault," they groaned, propping themselves up on their elbows to watch you. "Been thinking about your mouth on me all week—dreaming about it, practically."

You didn't make them wait any longer. Lowering your head, you dragged your tongue through their folds in one long, slow lick, moaning at the taste that flooded your mouth. Hange's head fell back with a strangled curse, their hips jerking up against your face.

"Fuck—yes—just like that," they gasped, one hand coming down to tangle in your still-damp hair.

You settled into a rhythm, alternating between broad strokes of your tongue and focused attention on the bundle of nerves that made Hange's thighs shake on either side of your head. Their fingers tightened in your hair, not quite painful but definitely controlling, guiding you where they needed you most.

"Right there," they directed, voice strained. "Harder—fuck—"

You obeyed eagerly, increasing the pressure of your tongue as you slid two fingers inside them, curling upward to stroke against their inner walls. Hange let out a broken moan, their grip on your hair tightening as their hips rocked against your face.

"Such a good girl," they praised breathlessly, the words sending a thrill through you. "So perfect."

Their praise spurred you on, making you redouble your efforts. You worked your fingers inside them, matching the rhythm of your tongue, determined to make them feel as good as they'd made you feel.

Hange's other hand joined the first in your hair, both now guiding your movements more forcefully, tugging you exactly where they wanted you. The slight sting of your scalp only heightened your arousal, making you press your thighs together as you pleasured them.

"Look at me," Hange commanded, voice rough. "Want to see your eyes while you fuck me with that pretty mouth."

You glanced up, meeting their intense gaze over the plane of their stomach. The sight of them—flushed and disheveled, glasses askew, watching you with such raw hunger—nearly undid you. You moaned against them, the vibration making their hips buck harder against your face.

"God, the way you look right now," they groaned, one hand loosening its grip to stroke your cheek almost tenderly. "My beautiful, filthy girl, face all wet with me—"

Their words dissolved into incoherent sounds as you sucked harder on their clit, curling your fingers more firmly inside them. You could feel them getting close—the way their inner walls clenched around your fingers, the increasing desperation in their movements.

"Don't stop," they gasped, fingers tightening painfully in your hair now, holding you firmly in place. "Fuck—I'm so close—don't you dare fucking stop—"

You had no intention of stopping. You worked your tongue over them relentlessly, your fingers fucking into them harder, faster, chasing their pleasure with single-minded determination. Hange's body went taut, their thighs clamping around your head, their back arching off the bed as they came with a hoarse cry of your name.

You gentled your movements but didn't stop, working them through the aftershocks, only pulling away when they tugged weakly at your hair in silent signal that it was too much.

"Holy shit," Hange breathed, collapsing back onto the bed, their chest heaving. "That was—fuck—get up here."

You crawled up their body, settling against their side. Hange immediately pulled you into a messy kiss, groaning at the taste of themselves on your lips and tongue. When they finally broke away, they were grinning again, that wild, excited expression that never failed to make your heart skip.

"You know," they mused, fingers tracing idle patterns on your bare hip, "I think I'm going to need more of these private research sessions. For science, of course."

You laughed, burying your face against their neck. "Of course. For science."

Hange's arms tightened around you, their voice dropping to something softer, more serious. "And just so we're clear—about Erwin, about anyone—you're mine. My assistant, my research partner, my—" They paused, seemingly searching for the right word.

"Yours," you supplied simply, pressing a kiss to their collarbone. "Just yours."

The tension you hadn't even realized was in their body melted away at your words. Their fingers threaded through your hair, gentler now, as they pulled you in for another kiss.

"Good," they murmured against your lips. "Because I'm not very good at sharing my favorite discoveries."

#hange x reader smut #hange smut #smut #aot x reader #aot x reader smut #aot #aot smut #hange x reader #hange zoe

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velnna · 3 months ago

Note

Do you have any advice you wouldn't mind sharing on reaching a level of comfort with stylizing? I get trapped in the land of understanding realistically what muscles, and especially what a more realistic face does, but struggle really hard to let go of getting things Right. Your art is such a lovely juxtaposition of understanding what is, but expressing yourself. I want to be there, but I dont know what steps to take to bridge that gap or even what it would look like over there.

I have a lot to say about this but it can all be TL;DR'd with (unfortunately) it mostly does come down to patience, practice and your own levels of comfort/the stuff you naturally gravitate to as an artist. Or at least that's the experience I have

The long answer is nailing the right level of stylisation for anatomy took me years of swinging between more realistic and more cartoony styles until my skill and level of understanding of actual anatomy stopped butting heads and stabilised. When I say my artstyle has been though it, it Has Been Through It

Back in 2016 or so I was swinging from this

to this

on the same breath lmfao

It was only in the past 3 ish years that I've felt like I hit a good spot that I'm proud of and comfortable in. The advice I can give based on my own experience is just to trust the process, study styles you like (and real anatomy) and above all don't be precious about your current art level. Sometimes you can get attached to a specific style and feel weird about going too far outside it, but if something seems fun I say try it out even if it's completely outside your usual technique

#ask #tutorial

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sxcret-garden · 6 months ago

Text

Jongho ღ Break You Down [M]

ღ Ateez Jongho x fem-bodied!reader ღ words: ~6.9k ღ genre & warnings: tiny bits of fluff if you squint but mostly pure filth, smut (sub!Jongho (who needs and wants to be coaxed into submission), dom!reader, dry humping, praise, some punishment & teasing, shibari, choking, handcuffs, edging/orgasm denial, handjobs, oral, overstimulation (all idol receiving), hair pulling (reader receiving), masturbation (both, guided for him), unprotected sex, use of traffic light system (he yellows reader once), he goes into subspace, reader puts on a strap midway, he performs oral on said strap, pegging (idol receiving), a hint of dacryphilia, a single spank (idol receiving), multiple orgasms (both), some aftercare) ღ reader: has a vagina, no other descriptions of reader’s anatomy, no pronouns used

Desc.: It’s the second time Choi Jongho seeks you out to help him take his mind off everything else going on in his life, and it’s also the second time you happily assist him with that.

Author’s note: Some time ago I realized I’ve never written sub!Jongho. Well now I have. Don’t ask how any of this happened because I have no idea either. Enjoy aksjdflköas

Edit: check out the sequel here 👀

“I knew you’d come back.”

He watches from his spot on the dark red sofa in your room as you slowly walk over to him, his eyes narrowed and fixated on your face. You made him wait for you here while you got changed into your preferred outfit for a scene like this - some simple black lingerie that comfortably wraps itself around your body, elegant and practical, giving you full freedom of movement. He doesn’t answer, and so, when you come to a halt right in front of him, standing between his spread legs, you lift up his chin with your index and middle finger placed underneath it.

“Choi Jongho…” you say his name, letting it roll off your tongue as if testing whether saying it out loud would fit the way you speak or not, and he raises his eyebrows at you ever so slightly. Your fingertips dance down his throat, and you notice the first button on his black dress shirt is undone. “What brings you here?”

“Isn’t that obvious?” he replies, and you can’t wait to wipe that expression off his face that tells you he feels superiour. It’s interesting to you that he still sounds so bold, when it completely contradicts what he’s come here for.

“Is it?” you ask, purely to engage him in a bit of a push-and-pull game to keep the both of you entertained, and because it seems to you that’s what helps ease him into the situation. You sit down in his lap, straddling him, your hands now rested on his shoulders, and you cock your head to the side.

“I would think so, yes,” Jongho replies, his voice deep and quiet, the sound wrapping itself around your ears like honey. Now you can see his gaze wandering to your lips, but he doesn’t dare take in your whole figure.

“Like what you see?” you tease him further, leaning back a little to give him a better view of your body. And now he can’t but accept the invite to take a good, long look at you, and though he doesn’t say anything, you can tell the answer must be yes. You chuckle at his reservedness when his eyes are back on yours, and you lean in closer, stopping with merely a hair’s width between your lips and his. His eyelids flutter shut at the proximity “In your message you said you needed someone to take your mind off things,” you repeat what he had written to you a few hours prior. “Is that what you want me to do?”

He gulps, looking back up at you, and it seems his features have softened as he mouths, “Yes please.”

“See? It’s not that hard,” you mutter softly, before pressing your lips against his. You kiss him slowly, sensually, letting him fall into your rhythm, and you enjoy the way he kisses you back, his hands finding purchase on your hips. He pulls you just a little closer and you part his lips with your tongue to deepen the kiss. “You feeling okay?” you ask upon parting. “You seem tired.”

“I am…” he sighs, without opening his eyes, and he leans his head back, offering his neck to you - voluntarily or not, you’re not sure, but you can’t resist the urge to press a few kisses to the delicate skin there.

“Had a rough week?”

“Month,” he corrects you, a bitter laugh escaping him.

“I see…” You come back up to look him in the face, and you can unmistakably see the bags under his eyes and the tension in his features. Cupping his cheeks with your hands and brushing your thumbs against his skin, you lure another sigh out of him, before he opens his eyes to give you a tired look. “I’ll take care of you,” you say, and as he nods, you go in for another kiss. You roll your hips on top of him, and for now you allow him to guide you to keep up a steady pace as you feel his bulge grow in his pants. You make out with him like this for a while, and when you pull away you have him letting out a breathy moan at the friction against his core.

“I think,” you say, tugging at the hem of his shirt, “this needs to go off.” And so he watches you intently as you open up one button after the other, his well trained chest and soft stomach coming into vision, and you end up gasping at the sight.

“What?” he challenges you, a cocky grin showing on his lips.

“You’re handsome.” You say it matter-of-factly, so as not to flatter him too much, but you really do mean it. Running your palms up his torso once, you add, “Such a pretty boy.” He doesn’t react - for now, you assume, because you still remember quite well how much he relished in the compliment the first time you were with him. Back then he had come to you, not really knowing how to go about meeting a dom he’d only talked to a couple of times on the internet, but he played it off surprisingly well. You also recall it took him quite a while to actually do the thing he came to you for - submitting. And now that he’s here a second time, it makes you think that despite the difficulties of letting go, he must’ve really ended up enjoying himself.

You discard his shirt, tossing it onto the ground, and you marvel at the shapes of his body. Next, you hook two fingers into the waistband of his dress pants, a neat black color as well, and when he doesn’t object or stop you, you rid him of those too.

“Let’s take all of this off you, hm?” you say as you make him stand, and once there’s no item of clothing left on his body, you guide him over to your bed, making him sit at the edge of it. You bring some rope with you, dark blue, and about one centimeter thick, unwinding it in front of him. “You liked this last time, didn’t you?” Jongho nods, and you continue, “Well, I also liked how you looked in this. So how about I do a few knots on you, and in the meanwhile you can tell me about all that’s stressing you out?”

“Alright,” he agrees, and you get to work. You’ve been wondering how to make the rope fit his body this time even before he arrived here, and you decided to do a simple chest harness on him, not primarily meant to restrict him, but simply because you think the shape would suit him - and the navy blue color does too. You get to work, and as soon as you begin, you can feel him relaxing under your touch.

“So? What’s bothering you?” you ask.

“Don’t make me think…” he mutters, eyebrows knitted from the stress, and you reach out to cup his face, running your thumb across his bottom lip.

“Oh, I’ll wipe your head clear of all thoughts soon enough, don’t you worry,” you chuckle, and as he looks up at you, you can see his pupils shaking. “That’s what you want, isn’t it?” He lets out a noise that you interpret as agreement while he looks away, leaning into the touch of your palm. He’s already told you this before, when you received his text message, so you leave it at that for now.

“I just thought it might help you to get stuff off your chest. You can tell me anything,” you remind him.

“I know…” he mutters an answer, and he ponders on where to start as he sits there with his hands in his lap, only moving when you need him to. “I just don’t think this job is for me, you know?”

“How come? I would think you’re good at it.”

“It’s not that… I know I can do it… I think that’s why my father chose me as his successor. And I like the prestige that comes with being almost CEO…” He pauses, and you give him time to think. “It’s just… not what I want to do.”

“What do you want to do?” you ask, as you’re finishing another knot, and before he can answer, you throw in a question, “Too tight?” Jongho shakes his head.

“It’s just right,” he says.

“Tell me if something feels off.”

“Mhm.” You continue working, laying the rope around his shoulders and his sides to tie him a simple but elegant harness. You think it’s what fits him best.

“Music,” he breaks the silence after a while. “I wanted to do music.” You acknowledge his words with silence. You’re sure there’s nothing you could say to him that would solve his problem, so you decide that simply listening would be the next best option. You move behind his back and continue to work on the harness quietly, listening to the way his breathing seems calmer now than when he came here, and he lets you, merely enjoying the feeling of the rope around his body.

“You’re too pretty for them to stick you in an office all day and force you into the footsteps of your father…” You eventually say, as you finish up your work.

“Hmm? Where do you reckon they should put me instead?” he slurs his words a bit as he visibly enjoys the way your fingertips trace his golden brown skin as you bring them back down his shoulders, yet he says it with amusement in his voice.

“I don’t know,” you reply, and when you run your hand through his hair he leans into your touch and it lures a deep breathy moan out of him. “My bedroom maybe. Like permanently. So I can do this with you all day.” And now he laughs, his eyes still closed as you have him lean his head back fully, so you feel his silky hair against your chest, and when you cup his chin with your hand he finally looks at you.

“I’m affecting you, huh.” Something about the cocky smile he sends you, and the boost of confidence your words gave him that radiates off of him makes you like him just a bit more. You hum at his assumption, letting go of his chin and letting your hand travel down his upper body, tracing the navy blue knots prettily lined up along his sternum, and then touching the soft skin on his stomach. He keeps staring up at your face, waiting, but the more time you take, the more you can see his jaw tensing up, teeth clenching.

“I thought that wasn’t a secret,” you answer, finally. “And it’s not like that feeling is one-sided.” As much as he’s trying to hide it, you don’t have trouble reading him, even when the signs are as subtle as they can get.

“Then hurry…” he mutters, and you can’t but smirk at him, as your other hand snakes around his throat.

“That wasn’t very polite of you just now,” you scold him, though you speak softly, and to punish him your fingertips move right past where he so obviously wants you, running your palm up and down his thigh instead. You can feel him gulp against the hand around his throat, and he probably knows anything else he could say will be used against him, so he keeps quiet for now. “Hmm? No more cheeky remarks for me?” You relish in the glare he sends you - but you’re the one who has him in a chokehold, and he’s the one who wants his dick touched, so he stays silent for his own good. “What a good boy.” You retrieve the hand laying around his throat and use it to run it up his scalp instead, grabbing onto the roots of his hair and pushing him forward, forcing him to look away from you. A groan escapes him as you deprive him of your touch only a second later, but he’s quickly comforted when instead, you move around him on top of the blanket in order to sit in his lap and straddle him. You give his shoulders a gentle push, having him leaning back a little and supporting himself on his hands placed behind him, guiding him into the position you want him in. You take in the sight in front of you, eyes following the lines down his toned body - his chest, the hint of his abs hiding underneath his stomach, down to his navel and his half-hard cock. You feel the burning need to touch him, and yet the urge to play with him some more is bigger.

“What are you thinking right now?” you ask, reaching out to cup his face in your hand, and the way he melts into your touch makes your heart skip a beat. But you don’t show it - or maybe he can read you just as well as you can read him, and any attempt to hide your true feelings is futile. Either way, you press on, “Tell me.” From his current position, it looks like Jongho is looking down on you, and as much as you must admit that the air of dominance suits him, your intentions are entirely different.

“What do you think?” he asks, mockingly, and as soon as the words have left his lips, your hand returns to his throat, applying just a bit of pressure this time. He gasps in response, shoulders and abs tensing up, but the look in his eyes remains calm.

“I asked you a question, pretty boy,” you say, sitting up on your knees to make yourself taller, now towering above him as you lean in dangerously. Your face is mere inches away from his as you speak, “Answer,” and your fingertips press against his pulse to put an emphasis behind your words. He hesitates, but you can unmistakably sense the cracks opening up on his facade - you wonder what it will take you this time around, to break it completely.

To break him completely.

“You…” he finally says, as if it had taken him all of his willpower to utter that single word. “I’m thinking about you… getting me off…” You gift him a smile, finding it entirely too amusing how much it’s taking out of him to form even just such a vague request.

“You’re not used to this, huh?” you ask, removing your hand from his throat and placing it onto his chest instead, while you sit back down on top of his thighs. He raises an eyebrow at you, and you clarify, “Having to ask for the things you really want.” You know you hit the bullseye when it seems like his face is suddenly a few shades paler than it was before, and you let your palm wander from his shoulder down his arm and to his hand. You notice his fingers are cold when you wrap yours around them, giving him an encouraging squeeze.

“You’ll learn how to do it,” you attempt to comfort him, and you can see his mask sliding right back on. “I’ll teach you.” Then you move your hand away from his, and towards his core, and he inhales sharply as you make contact with his cock. Slowly, you begin jerking him off, his eyes glued to your hand and teeth clenched harder, the longer you test his patience. “Want more?” you ask, accompanied by a challenging raise of your eyebrow, and you capture his chin with the thumb and index finger of your free hand, so you could lift it up and force him to look at you. “Then ask for it.” You get nothing but a glare in return, but when your fist reaches his tip, he lets out a shaky breath and looks away from you nonetheless. “You won’t?” you ask, moving your hand down his shaft once more, and back up again, having him fully hard in your hand by now. “Too bad.” And then, as you’re removing your hand from where he wants you most, he quickly reaches out to catch you by your wrist.

“That’s not what we’re doing here, and you know it,” you warn him, commencing a battle of glares. And his fatigue alone is giving you a big advantage here, and with the end goal in mind, you’re not averse to making use of it.

Besides - you know that if he seriously wanted to overpower you and win, using his sheer strength he could. But he won’t, and so you let him have this fight, his tired eyes glaring into yours, as you wait for the right moment to attack. To give him the chance to at least go down with dignity.

“You didn’t come here to fight,” you mutter eventually, and his grip around your wrist weakens. You seize your chance and slip out of his hold, wrapping your fingers around his wrist instead, and when you bring it above his head as you push his back into the mattress using your weight, you know he let you win. “Seems like I’ll have to fall back on more extreme measures to keep you in your place, huh? So you won’t get any… ideas again.” You reach for his other hand as well, and with a pair of handcuffs conveniently attached to the headrest of your bed, you force his hands into a fixed position.

“You like that better?” you ask, crawling off him, and without giving him the chance to answer, your hand is back on his cock, continuing your painfully slow ministrations on him. His gaze is filled with distrust as he looks at you, and rightfully so, but as you begin playing with his hair, you lull him into a false sense of safety.

Of course you’re not going to let him cum just yet. But even you can’t resist the faces of pleasure he shows you as you adjust your speed a little.

“Does that feel good?”

“...yeah…” Jongho sighs under your touch, bucking his hips into your fist, his breathing growing shakier the longer you go on.

“Then I’m glad…” you whisper, your fingertips dancing from his hair down to his cheek and you lean in to press your lips against his for the fraction of a second. “I’m sure you don’t mind if I stop though…” You know he expected you to take your hand away too soon when he merely throws his head back in frustration. However, you don’t let it eat at him for too long. Instead, you crawl on top of him, and you connect your lips to his again, in a rather sweet kiss. You haven’t fully figured out yet what it is about him that makes you want to comfort him so badly, but you end up moving your lips against his more gently than you usually would. And even when you were planning for but a teasing kiss, you hesitate to tear yourself away from his mouth, both warmth and excitement rushing through your veins and making you feel dizzy at the way he kisses you back with that same unexpected softness. You say nothing as you finally do move away from him, bringing mere inches between the two of you, and when you notice the blush that has creeped onto his cheeks, your chest swells with pride. You lower your hips onto his thigh, letting out contented sighs as you begin grinding against him through the fabric of your underwear. Lips nipping at his throat, your hands naturally wander up his arms, scanning the movement of his muscles underneath the skin, until they’re securely wrapped around his wrists, just underneath where the metal of the handcuffs keeps him in place. Tiny moans escape you as you scatter kisses down his throat and the friction keeps building up against your core.

“You know what?” you whisper as you sit up, moving around a bit so you end up comfortably sat on his stomach.

“What?” Jongho asks, half-lidded eyes giving away that his resistance is fading ever so slowly. Taking him in as you scan his face and torso once again, your hand finds its way to your middle.

“I really wanna get myself off on you.” He gulps - you didn’t expect him to, but it’s making you need that release that much more. Fingertips swiftly pushing aside the fabric of your panties, you moan at the feeling of your dripping cunt, all while never taking your eyes off him. “Watch,” you order, and while you start rubbing precise circles onto your clit, his gaze slowly drops to where you’re pleasuring yourself. “Wish it was you, huh?” He doesn’t answer, but when you easily push two fingers inside, he lets out a shaky breath.

“Shit…” You don’t miss the curse he hisses, and along with the image of his arms flexing against the restraints and your fingertips skillfully hitting that sweet spot inside of you over and over again, it’s making you lose your mind at least a little. You moan at the pleasure coursing through your body, making sure to angle yourself so he could get a perfect vision of your fingers pumping in and out of you, and you find yourself captivated by the way it’s showing on his face how he too has his sanity slowly slipping away from him.

“Wanna be inside me, right?”

“...yes.” You tear your hand away from your pussy, panting for air.

“That’s a good boy…” you praise him, and you think for the first time that night you can see a hint of the effect it has on him in his eyes. Bringing your hand up to his face, you coat his lips with your juices, and you watch intently as the tip of his tongue darts across to lick it all up. “Now open up…” you mutter, but he was ready to take your fingers into his mouth anyway, tongue running along them as he cleans you up. “That’s right,” you praise him, and his eyelids flutter shut for but a moment. And then, when he’s all done, you position yourself, watching his drunk gaze flick from your hand to your hips, and as you begin sinking down on him, taking in his size inch by inch, he lets out a moan that probably comes out more desperate than he had intended. The blush on his ears follows suit, and you praise him as you roll your hips on top of him,

“Sound so pretty…” You mutter the words and end with a moan of your own as he stretches you out, fitting inside you so perfectly, and once you’ve taken him in fully, you wrap your hand around his throat once more. “Don’t you dare cum without my permission.” Your words sound sharp, and the look on his face tells you he isn’t planning on obeying. However, you’ve never been one to say no to a little challenge, and so you begin riding him, fingers on your free hand tending to your clit, while you watch his face contort in pleasure. But he does his damndest to regain his composture at least externally, to give you as little hints as possible as to how close he is or isn’t, and you smirk at him, already feeling the knot in your stomach tightening.

“Don’t think you can win this one, pretty boy…” you spit the words at him, tightening the grip on his throat as a warning.

“Fuck…” he cusses, pressing his eyelids shut tightly now, with his teeth and fists clenched. He’s probably fighting the pending high, and with that thought in mind and a few more movements on top of him, your orgasm hits you, your walls contracting around his hard cock.

You find pearls of sweat on top of his chest and his forehead as you crawl off him, and you lower yourself to kiss them off his skin.

“You don’t really wanna disobey me, do you?” you wonder out loud. “Or… were you hoping you’d get a little reward if you listened to me?” With your palm drawing circles on his stomach, you allow him to catch his breath. He doesn’t answer, and once he looks at your face, you begin touching him once again.

“Are you gonna tell me when you’re close?” you ask, and he nods, his dark brown eyes scanning your face, and his lips parting to give way to a gasp as you start getting him off once more. “Feels good?”

“Yeah…” His breathing grows heavy, and with each time he exhales, he lets you hear a moan, each one sounding prettier than the previous one the closer you stroke him to his high.

“Wanna cum, pretty boy?” you ask alluringly, finding him nodding at your question eagerly. With his eyes closed, he misses the smirk forming on your lips, and you almost feel bad for what you’re about to do.

“‘m getting close…” he lets you know, and when he bucks his hips into your hand, you deprive him of your touch, and you watch as he slowly begins to realize that this time as well, he’s been denied. Jongho holds his breath for a few seconds, and when he exhales he hisses a curse filled with anger and frustration, tearing at the handcuffs so strongly it must be painful for him. You watch, thinking to yourself how pretty he is, struggling like that, and then slowly calming down again.

“And that,” you then speak, “is what you get for trying to disobey me.” He’s visibly fighting the frustration in his mind, and that’s when you know you’ve hit the point where you have to give him something in return soon. You’ve learned this the hard way the first time he came to you, and you won’t make the same mistake again. “What’s your color, baby?” you ask, reaching out to undo the handcuffs one by one.

“...yellow,” he hesitates, but says it eventually.

“I’ll make it better… is that okay?” You gently run the back of your hand down his cheek and caress the skin on his chest when he nods. “Do you trust me?” He nods again.

“Yeah.”

You kiss him, gently, bringing your lips to the corner of his mouth before you lead him into an open mouthed kiss. He lets you take the lead, and despite that, you can eventually feel his now warm palms being placed onto your waist. And though his touch is light, it feels as if he was desperately holding onto you, as you run your tongue along his.

“I’ll make you feel good. Don’t you worry,” you assure him, and you feel his hands grazing your sides as you move south. You position yourself between his legs, and with his fingers up in your hair, tugging at the strands softly, you flatten your tongue and lick up a stripe along the underside of his painfully hard cock. Even this much is enough to make him whine, and you know that now you have him almost where you want him. You hum in approval, and then you wrap your lips around him, hollowing your cheeks as you take him into your mouth, with one hand wrapped around his base for some extra stimulation. Judging from the rather desperate noises he makes, it won’t take much time nor effort to have him coming undone underneath you, and yet you monitor him closely for his reactions, eager to make him feel as good as you possibly can. You hum at the way he moans at your touches, and you bob your head up and down along his shaft, until he hits the back of your throat, and you feel him pulling on your hair as he’s overwhelmed with pleasure. You want to praise him, but you decide to focus on getting him off, and so instead you moan at the way little whines keep falling from his lips. He doesn’t tell you when he’s about to cum, but you’ve seen it coming anyway, with his flushed dick twitching in your mouth, followed by the salty taste of his seed spilling all over your tongue mere seconds later. You swallow all of it, and as he lets go of your hair, ready to catch his breath, you continue sucking him off. His fingers find the bedsheets instead, gripping at them until his knuckles turn white and a string of curses escapes him.

“Shit… ah… f-fuck…” You enjoy the sounds of him losing control while you overstimulate him, feeling his cock hardening again in your mouth, and gradually even the curses he utters get replaced by nothing but desperate moans.

“Doing so good for me…” you praise him, a little out of breath yourself, as you let your hand take over to get a better look at his face distorting from the pain and the pleasure. “So, so good…” you mutter, and you feel like you could cum again from the state you’ve just put him in alone. It’s like his body isn’t sure whether to get closer to you or escape, and so one moment he’s arching his back, bucking his hips into your hand, and the other he’s throwing his head back, eyebrows knitted as he whines at your touch. Either way, you don’t stop tending to his cock, stroking him at just the right pace as he writhes underneath you, and then finally, with a broken moan, he cums for a second time, spilling all over his stomach.

You watch as the tension slowly leaves his body while he fights for air, and you reach over to the tissues on your bedside table to clean him up a bit. Then you position yourself so he can comfortably lay his head into your lap, and you find yourself chuckling at the image unfolding right in front of you when he rolls onto his side to wrap an arm around you with a pout on his lips.

“You did well,” you say, and he lets out a content sigh as you play with his hair. “You feeling okay?” He nods, moving his hand from your hips down your thigh, thumb drawing circles on your skin. Eventually he looks up at you with half-lidded eyes, and he reaches up to cup your face with his big hand. You smile at him in return, taking a hold of his palm and moving it aside. “I’m really taking a liking to you, you know?”

“Me too…” he mutters, his soft hair tickling your stomach, and his hazy eyes glued to your face.

“Do you want more?” His lips part at your question, and slowly, he nods. “Then sit up for me.” And he does, without hesitation. You run your nails up his back until you reach the navy blue string tied around his chest. “Is this getting uncomfortable?” He thinks for a little while, before he shakes his head. “Good. Good boy.” His gaze softens when you praise him, and the pout on his lips appears again when you get up off the bed.

“I wanna try something,” you announce, opening the drawer of your dresser where you store your toys. “How do you feel about this?” You hold out a harness to him, made of matte black leather and with a sturdy ring in the middle to hold a strap on. He gulps at the sight, but there’s a spark of interest in his eyes, so you slip into the harness and you choose a black medium sized dildo to go with it. Then you walk back over to the bed.

“Come here,” you order once you’re standing in front of it, and he gets up, approaching you. For some reason he seems taller now, compared to when he arrived here, yet his eyes reflect a kind of devotion you haven’t seen in him even when you played with him for the first time. His hands find your hips naturally, but you take a step back to break contact.

“Down.” He drops to his knees immediately upon hearing your command, the blush creeping back to his cheeks, and you lift up his chin to make him look up. “That’s a good boy.” Gulping, lips parted, he waits for your next move. “Open up,” you say, and he does, albeit a bit hesitantly. You make sure to encourage him with praises as he sticks out his tongue, but his blush only deepens when he makes contact with the toy attached to your core, and you can’t help but chuckle.

“You’re not used to being the submissive one, huh?” you assume, and he shakes his head, muttering a small “no”. Massaging his scalp with your fingertips, you help him relax a bit. “You’re doing really good for me though…” Driven by your praise, he opens his mouth and takes in the tip, immediately checking in with you to see if he’s doing alright, so you encourage him further. “That’s right… all the way, baby…” you whisper, and you watch as more and more of the strap on disappears in his mouth. And then eventually he starts moving his head up and down, like you had done on him not too long ago, and the sight of him sucking you off only serves to make you horny all over again.

“I want you to get yourself off too,” you order, and there’s a bit of drool dripping down the side of his mouth when he reaches for his dick. And now it’s you cursing at the image unfolding in front of you - he’s so pliant, so obedient, and you can’t wait to wreck him a second time tonight.

“So needy, huh?” you tease him as he’s hard again in no time, and he furrows his brows at you in response. With a ruffle of his hair, you quickly apologize. “Alright, alright, I won’t tease you too much.” You smile, and then you guide his movements by his hair, making him increase the pace at which he moves his head up and down your toy, and at the same time his hand that’s wrapped around his length speeds up too and his eyelids flutter shut. “Doing so well…” you praise him again, and as the toy hits the back of his throat he gags a little, but continues his ministrations nonetheless. “And you look so hot with my cock in your mouth.” He blushes some more, and his movements are getting messier as he bucks his hips into his fist. The sight knocks the breath out of your chest, and you can’t but marvel at the way he’s losing control more and more, and so willingly at your hands, even when you’re not doing anything but giving him directions.

“You gonna cum just like that?” you ask, and you receive a desperate whine in return. You can tell that he’s focusing hard on keeping up the movements along your strap, but as it’s getting harder and harder for him to concentrate, you somewhat ungently tear him away from the toy, and you earn yourself a beautiful moan just as he makes himself cum all over the floor by your feet. Spit is dripping down his chin, and you wipe it away with your thumb, muttering, “Look what a mess you’ve made of yourself…” You take a step back, and you grant him some time to regain his composure, and when you realize that that’s not going to happen anytime soon, the burning need to ruin him completely finally takes over you.

“Get up,” you say, and with his thighs shaking ever so slightly, he does as told. “To the bed.” You follow suit, grabbing a bottle of lube from your toy drawer on the way, and as you tell him to lay down for you, settling between his legs, you continue, “Look at me. What’s your color?”

“Green…”

“Good.” You run your hands up and down his thighs, nails grazing his skin ever so slightly. Then you spread a generous amount of the lube on your hand, and you check in with him again just in case. “And how do you feel about what I’m about to do?” He hesitates, pupils shaking. “Not sure?” you assume, and he nods. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll go slow,” you assure him, and you watch his reaction closely as you bring your hand to his ass. A shaky moan escapes him as your fingers prod at his hole, and his face is beet red as he’s overcome with conflicting feelings. “You like it?” A whine is all you get as an answer, so you say, “Color.”

“G-green…” he responds through gritted teeth, grimacing at the sensation of your fingers stretching him out slowly, working their way in and out of him.

“So you do like it…” you mutter under your breath, and this time he can’t complain about your teasing remark, so you add. “A little too much, huh? Has anyone ever done this to you?”

“N-no…” he answers, chest rising and sinking as he breathes heavily in between moans.

“You think you can take my cock if it’s your first time then?” He glances at the toy he’s had in his mouth mere minutes ago, and drunk on all the new sensations coursing through his body, he nods, rather eagerly at that. You smirk at his reaction, and as you add another finger he throws his head back cursing.

“Fuck…”

“So cute…” you comment, and when he whines you give him a slap to his thigh, making him moan some more. “You’re gonna look even cuter once I fill you up.” With your free hand you give his dick a few strokes, and you didn’t expect him to react so strongly to your touch, but you guess he must already be overstimulated from the orgasms he’s had before, because now he’s desperately gripping and tearing at the bedsheets, back arching and hips bucking up as if they were moving by themselves. “Shit, I love seeing so desperate…” you mutter. “Wonder how much worse you’re gonna get in a sec.” You pull out of him, squirting some more lube out of the bottle to spread it on your strap, and you align yourself with him. You don’t give him any warnings as you slowly push up into him, merely monitoring his reactions, and the expression of pure bliss he shows you as you fill him up is enough to make you continue. You reach for his hands, intertwining your fingers as you pin him to the bed, and the second you begin thrusting you can see the last ounce of control that was left in his body slipping away. A blushing, panting, sweating mess, he moans at each of your strokes, the tip of his cock grazing your stomach with everytime you move. You start gently at first, but when it becomes clear he can take you, your thrusts become more powerful, and it sends him right off the edge of sanity. Unintelligible sounds drop from his slightly parted lips one by one, moans so pretty they could make you cum from the sound alone, and with the toy also hitting your clit just right with each time you push up into him, you know that neither of you will last long at this rate. And so you do the one thing every single cell in your body is aching to do, as your senses are drowned in his whines and you’re overwhelmed by the way his nails dig into the back of your hands and how fucking powerful you feel having him pinned down like this, completely ruined - you fuck him hard, chasing both your and his high at the same time.

He’s the first one to cum, whining uncontrollably as his orgasm hits him, and as he’s beginning to writhe from the overstimulation, tears filling his eyes, you too are pushed over the edge.

Gathering all strength you have left in you, you pull out of him as carefully as you can, and you collapse next to him on the bed, one hand still holding his. The sounds of the both of you panting heavily fill the room, and when you turn your head to see how Jongho is doing, you find nothing but blissful exhaustion on his face.

“You did well…” you whisper eventually, rolling onto your side to comb your fingers through his hair, thumb grazing his lips and cheek. “Shit, now I really wanna keep you here forever…” He lets you hear a weak laugh, and when you have him lay his head on your chest, he immediately goes to hide his face there, wrapping his arms around you tightly. Even now, after all this exertion, you can clearly feel the strength he has, and it makes you even prouder of him for letting go and letting you handle him like this.

“Say…” you speak after pausing for a while, as you unhurriedly play with his locks.

“Mhm?” he replies sleepily.

“I don’t usually do this, but… do you wanna stay the night?” You await his answer anxiously, but as soon as he opens his eyes to look up at you, he nods. Brushing some hair out of his face, you smile. “Then let’s get ourselves a shower and then we can curl up in bed with some snacks if you want?” Furrowing his eyebrows, he groans, going back to burying his face in your chest and you giggle at his reaction. “I know you’re tired…” you whisper. “We can skip the snacks, but a shower and some cuddles is a must!”

“Alright…” he finally responds, and you run your fingertips along his shoulder, tugging at the knots of the harness to begin untying them.

“Alright…” you repeat, and as you lose yourself a little in the sight in front of you once again, you find yourself leaning in to press a feathery light kiss to his forehead.

#ateez smut #jongho smut #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #jongho x reader #ateez scenarios #ateez oneshots #jongho scenarios #jongho fanfic #ateez fanfic #ateez drabbles #smut

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inc0nsp1cuous · 5 months ago

Text

Mithridatism

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Vigilante!Reader (fem)

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: descriptions of needles, slight impact play, edging/ denial, oral f!receiving

No use of y/n, GN!anatomy (I think)

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Eeek! This is my first fic so please be gentle 🙏🙏

Sorry for any grammatical errors, plot holes, or OOC behavior!! I wrote this at midnight last night with zero plan except for the concept, please comment with feedback/ opinions! Ps this is also my first time writing smut, and it’s completely self-indulgent so enjoy!!

Mithridatism - the practice of building up immunity to poison by taking gradually increasing doses of it

It was stupid. You don’t know why you even agreed in the first place, but here you are… in the cold, dark cave. The vile sits in front of you, the Bat stares from his chair, gaze calculating but less cold than normal. It’s odd to see him like this, there’s almost a hint of fear in his expression - no, it’s closer to apprehension. He wouldn’t show fear.

“You have the antidote, right?” You ask, and of course he does. You know that. This is merely a last-ditch attempt to prolong the inevitable. He doesn’t respond, just pulls a small glass container from his belt to show.

This routine has been going on for the past couple of months, going to the cave after an exhausting patrol to microdose one of the Rouge’s toxins or poisons. It started with Scarecrow, which was awful, but at least you’re mostly immune now. Those horrible nights were spent shaking and crying on the damp floor of the cave. You wanted to kill him, or at least give him a solid piece of your mind, even if he was just trying to help. He said something about how it’s better to have control over it here than go through the real thing out there. Bullshit. Well, maybe not, but you were still bitter. You had worked through Scarecrow’s fear toxin, and Joker’s laughing gas, now you’re onto Ivy’s pheromones. At least you had a decent idea of what the former two did, this one is sort of a mystery, having a slightly different effect on everyone who you’ve seen affected.

“The whole thing?” Another question you already know the answer to, maybe if you stall enough he’ll get frustrated and send you home. He nods, and with a slight tremble in your hands, you pick up the vile, making sure the syringe is secure. You roll up your sleeve and place the needle to your skin, God- why didn’t he just leave it in gas form, this is much more daunting. The needle enters your skin and you squeeze your eyes shut, pushing the piston down and letting the toxin enter your body. The cool liquid sends a chill through your arm that makes your stomach turn. This is always the worst part. “I thought Ivy only did this to men, why do I even have to do this?” I sigh, dropping the syringe back on the table.

“You don’t know that. Rouges are unpredictable, they’ll do anything to get out of a pinch.” His voice moves through you, eyes boring down in a way that makes you feel small, something that not many others can achieve.

“You speak as if they’re animals” You roll your eyes, hating his tendency to lump every criminal into the same category.

“Just focus on your breathing, it will take effect soon.” His voice almost imperceptibly softens, always spinning the conversation somehow.

Of course he’s right, it’s almost infuriating how immediately after he says that your lips seem to gain a new level of sensitivity. You trace your tongue over the roof of your mouth, it sends a rush down your spine. Shit. You can’t control the way your breathing picks up and your chest starts to move heavier. Your tongue moves over your lips now, did his lips always look that appetizing? Woah- okay, it’s definitely starting to hit. You stare up at him, praying to God he hasn’t somehow unlocked the power of mind reading as your eyes trace over the muscles that strain against his suit. A night of fighting crime has given his arms a delicious pump and you can’t help but think what they would look like around your-

“It’s starting?” His words snap you out of your frenzy, your eyes shooting open from their previous half-lidded glance.

“I- uh- yeah.” The shame begins to settle in as you realize he knows exactly what’s on your mind. The next sensation that makes itself known is the ache that begins to cry between your thighs. Begging for a fraction of friction, a semblance of relief. If it continues at this rate, it’s going to be a painfully long night.

“How long ‘till I get the antidote?” Your voice takes on a new tone, a slightly breathy quality as you begin to sway to take your mind off the need that’s beginning to boil, quickly threatening to burn you up if you don’t act on it.

“No antidote tonight, unless you’re in critical condition.” His cold voice is a stark contrast to the fire blazing through your body, it’s almost soothing, but nonetheless infuriating.

“Bullshit. Why is this different from any other night?” It’s pathetic the way your voice has a slight whine, not that you can control it. Your thighs push together tight to focus your mind.

“Because this toxin can’t kill you. It’s a battle of will. And you seem to be losing already.” His words are so taunting you want to punch his stupid face, then maybe kiss it… then maybe ride it. Your hands move to rub your face, manually attempting to wipe the filthy images from your brain.

“You fucking asshole!” The words fly out of your mouth before you can stop them, turning as you begin to walk away.

“Come here.” His voice is commanding, the tone he uses with criminals makes your gums ache, a feeling you didn’t know was possible. In your current pathetic state, you can do nothing but turn back around and follow his orders, cursing yourself as you do exactly what he says. This level of obedience is unheard of for you, making it even more embarrassing as you move right where he wants you. “Now you listen to me?” Though you can’t see, you’re almost positive he has a brow raised in an expression you read as cocky, though most others would simply see stoicism.

“Shut up.” You grumble, eyes darting to the floor; bad idea as you catch a delicious glance at his thighs before you stare at your shoes.

“Mouthy.” His ever-analytical, one-word remark makes your blood boil, almost matching the fervor of your desire. His hand raises to grab your chin, forcing you to look up at him. You can feel your heart pounding in your ears as the eye contact makes you feel slightly feral.

“Prick.” You quickly rebut, not having the mental wherewithal to think of a better comeback. Before you can register anything else, your lips are on his, who initiated this move? You have no clue. It’s bliss the way you melt into him, eyes fluttering shut as you quickly stop the sounds that desperately want to escape. You were already desperate enough, he didn’t need the satisfaction of knowing how quickly his lips could undo you. The intensity grows as the fire in your gut flourishes, you soon abandon hope of concealing your soft whines as his lips feel like a fresh dose to an addict. Your head spins as your arms find their way around his neck, his hands laying claim to your waist. Begrudgingly, you have to pause for breath, staring up at him with an equal mix of shock and desire. He opens his mouth to speak, what he says only confuses you further.

“Jump.”

“What-?” You’re completely caught off guard, voice a sultry mix of need and trepidation.

“Just-” He begins again, but you jump before he can finish his thought. He immediately catches and lifts you, one hand under your butt for support as he carries you across the cave, long strides making quick work as he moves to the Batmobile. When he places you down on the hood you gasp, sex-addled brain making quick work of deducing what’s about to happen. A breath catches in your throat as you notice how blown out his pupils are, but before you can make a comment, he sinks to his knees. As he looks up at you, you swear you can see salvation in his lips. It takes a quick second to process that the Batman is on his fucking knees, but once it sets in, it’s like a switch is flipped in your brain and only fervor can be found.

“Are you sure-?” Dizzy voice, not sure if you could handle him taking it back now. In his usual fashion, he doesn’t say anything, just hums against the fabric of your pants. Damn. By the time you get your bottoms off, it should probably be embarrassing how slick you already are, but it might just be a side effect of the pheromones, and honestly, you’re too far lost in it to even care. As soon as his mouth makes contact with you, you let the fire finally consume you, letting yourself succumb to the ecstasy as he begins to work between your thighs. Embarrassment is a strong theme tonight, crimson burns your cheeks as he effortlessly draws noises from you that you didn’t even know you could make, as if it’s an art he’s practiced to perfection. Within minutes he has your back arching, tears streaming down your face as you cry out the most lewd things in search of release.

“Please- mmph~ please please Bats, I’m so-” Your babbling is cut off when he pulls away from you, a stupidly handsome grin on his face as he stares at your helpless form “Oh you fucking asshole, I swear to fuck-” The drivel spews from your lips, only interrupted by a ringing smack to your pussy. You scream, sensitivity making it feel like a million needles stabbing.

“Behave. Where did that pretty little obedient girl go? Huh?” He tuts his tongue, shaking his head in the most infuriatingly attractive way possible.

“I’m sorry- please... I just need-” You begin to whine again, he prompts you to further humiliate yourself

“Need what?” His voice is so close to your core that it sends a shiver up your spine.

“Need you please- I promise I’ll be good, just-” You’re practically panting as you beg, moaning as he finally continues, quickly drawing you to your peak once again. He has you just where he wants you, right on the edge as your legs begin to shake. Then, he stops. Pulling away once again. You actually burst into sobs this time, the pheromones making your brain scream for him to just let you come.

“A battle of will.” He remarks, parroting his previous words as his voice goes back to the cold and stoic demeanor he had earlier tonight. You might kill him. “See you tomorrow.” You swear you can catch the way his sadistic eyes gleam at your defeat.

#bruce wayne/reader #bruce wayne #dc comics #dc universe #batman #Batman/reader #smut #bruce wayne imagine #Bruce Wayne smut #dc imagine #dc smut #tension #reader insert #fem reader #x reader #no use of y/n

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worthyprnce · 8 months ago

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gwaine had many hidden talents.

we all know about his amazing skills with swordfighting. a skill he learnt from watching knights and squires play and fight, from picking up fights even being too young to do that and during his many years traveling alone. he had to know how to defend himself and, most importantly for him in the begging of his life, his mother and sister as well. but that's not all he knew.

growing up without his father to teach him the arts of sword fight, he learnt a lot from his mother and older sister instead. at seven he got tired of his clothes tearing up all the time, so he asked his mother to teach him how to sew. even after becoming a knight, gwaine took a few minutes to mend his own clothes whenever he could. he needed this time alone. at nine, his sister taught him about the language of flowers and how to dance. he did it for them. he used to steal flowers from luxurious gardens around to gift his mother and sister, and he always took them to dance, using any excuses to do it. he just loved it, and he loved to see them happy, not worrying about money or grieving for once.

at eleven he already knew how to steal food from the market without getting caught. and he was an excellent bargainer too. he was known by some as the child who stole valuable objects from distracted rich people and sold them at a lower price afterwords. robin hood style. it didn't take him too long to learn how to make his own dagger. courtesy of the local blacksmith who took pity on him and his family.

but most of his little secret talents he learned along his travels, wandering alone after leaving home at an early age. he learned to play the lute, to play cards, to steal by cheating playing cards, how to get easy money, how to impress a girl, how to impress a boy, how to whistle, to cook — although he was not actually good at it, just very practical. he knew french, a little latin, how to orient himself by the stars, how to bandage a wound by himself and what to do if it became infected, body anatomy (for medical and first aid reasons only. mostly), cut his own hair, trim his own beard, how to read maps, how to identify poisonous mushrooms, how to cut wood for fire, to swim, and many other little things.

but the hidden talent he was most proud of, was his drawing skills.

when he was around twenty, he once saw an elderly man struggling with a few home repairs he had, and decided to help him. as a return, the old man let him stay in his home for a few days. gwaine soon found out the man loved to draw. he had plenty of sketchbooks filled with many different portraits and landscapes, gwaine was in awe. seeing gwaine's genuine interest, the old man taught some basic and quick drawing principles, and gave gwaine a sketchbook and a pencil as a gift for all the help and company.

during his long years alone walking aimlessly around, gwaine used his sketches to immortalise every place he passed, every interesting person he met along the way, passions that made his heart beat differently, animals he helped save, taverns that served a good ale.

by the time he met merlin, his sketchbook pages were full of sketches of camelot, gaius' chambers, bottles of potions with funny names, little details inside the castle most people wouldn't even notice. but gwaine did.

he found himself making sketches of gwen with flowers in her hair, of arthur with the worst expression possible, of gaius with his usual worried face. but merlin was the main focus of his new drawings. every page had a sketch of merlin, doesn't matter how big or small.

and when gwaine was no longer in camelot, he realized his mind had never left merlin's room. he went back into drawing landscapes and taverns, but no other person were interesting enough. not when he once had merlin.

the pages of his sketchbook were getting boring and lifeless, not what they used to be before. but it seemed like they would come back to life whenever gwaine and merlin were together again. he had many sketches of merlin with white lillies around him, merlin's eyes shining as bright as they did the night gwaine confessed he was doing it all for him, wyverns, an old and dirty trident he had no idea what it actually was for but he liked the shape of it. even arthur made a comeback to his sketchbook.

when he was made prisoner by jarl, he lost all of his sketchbooks. everything inside his bag was stolen and discarded, and since gwaine's escape was rushed, he had no opportunity to try and find it. he lost it all, all the memories of his travels, the beautiful places he saw, the people he met, his early adventures with merlin. all lost. he had only his memory now.

after he became a knight he was reluctant to go back to his old hobby. still bitter about losing it all suddenly. but after getting to know his new friends better, and after he started to see merlin everyday, he couldn't resist.

he used every moment he had alone to draw. he loved drawing lancelot's hair. he had his fun giving leon extra curls. elyan, percival, and even lesser known knights and guards owned gwaine's sketchbook pages.

but his muse was always merlin. drawing merlin was like muscle memory for him. he would be lying if he said he never lost himself in his own thoughts while admiring merlin's features and carving them into his memory so he could draw him later.

his drawings were directly affected by his mood, so it was easy to know when he was angry or upset. but there was only one emotion showing whenever he drew merlin, and it was love. pure, powerful and unconditional love. sometimes a brokenhearted love. sometimes a melancholic love. and there were even the times he felt a certain kind of guilty love, a mixture of insecurity and uncertainty. but it was always love. and it was always merlin.

the first sketch he made after getting back to draw was a memory very dear to him of the first day he met merlin. he was smiling, looking at gwaine with hopes he would stay, begging him with his eyes and words for gwaine to stay in camelot with him. for him. whatever his reason was, he wanted gwaine close, and gwaine remembered those eyes and words very clearly.

his last sketch was also one he made of merlin. he was smiling as he held gwaine's hand. just before he was the one leaving gwaine this time. and even though gwaine had his eyes blurred by tears, he made his best to register merlin in his pages one more time, one last time, forever.

#long post #i am so sorry about it #tried to sneak micro headcanons I have about gwaine and it made this post longer than I wanted to #just a reminder this is all headcanon. my own personal headcanons.#and I have many and they sometimes contradict themselves but they coexist in my mind and should coexist in the fandom too #anyways #once again english is not my main language so if you see any mistakes no you didn't #gwaine #merwaine #merlin #bbc merlin #sir gwaine #mergwaine #headcanons #☀️#apollo posts

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noodles-and-tea · 1 year ago

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Have you thought about doing a body tutorial or something similar like how you do anatomy or expressions? Not to pressure u to or anything of course, I just find your art very inspiring and its quite honestly like the perfect mix of realistic and cartoony to me :)

Firstly, thank you for the kind words!!

Secondly, I will see if I can compile some tips for stuff | do but I must put the disclaimer here that I mostly have no idea what l'm doing :)))

Something that I learnt way back when I first started studying art for myself is using a line of motion, which I think adds a lot of movement and life to characters - especially if you're drawing them on their own

(You can see I add one here)

As for my "anatomy" (I use quotations because I will go through phases of studying anatomy vigorously and then a period immediately after where I do not care) | tend to use a lot of blocking and also the movement lines to shape my art and then go back and add detail and fix anything that's wrong

The head, chest and hips are what I tend to focus on mostly for initial blocking, then adding limbs and all the extra parts

So that's pretty much my process for drawing people and bodies, I could probably post some speed paints or whatever if you're interested to showcase it a bit more practically. But my other advice is to study other art styles and shapes and anatomy and people! Basic but hey, it works.

As for expressions I can potentially make another post for that too but be warned that I am bluffing through those way worse than this so we will see

I hope that helps!!!

#it mostly comes down to experimenting and being messy and getting stuff wrong sometimes!!#but if ya got any more questions I’d be happy to (try) answer!#my art #ask #noodles talks #art tutorial

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kaiserouo · 2 months ago

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do you have tips for drawing armor? (specifically guardian armor but armor in general works too)

Wow this is the first time i got asked about art related question. Life achievement get. Also please allow my rambling.

Tbh, there's... not that much real advice i can give? I mean, the best thing about drawing armor is that there's almost no organic stuff (e.g., facial / eye expression, muscle, etc) and you can just copy the reference. I'll try, but idk if this is what you're looking for

Basic / General Section

Because drawing armor is basically just "slapping a skin on a figure by copying the reference mindlessly", you need quite a few basic "things" to actually do that well enough:

A base figure (to slap the armor on. If you're good you could probably just freehand the armor directly but i cant. Draw the figure now so you can mindlessly copy-paste the armor on it later)

Reference (if you're drawing that armor set for the first time definitely don't use your memory. Just get a set of reference and stare at it and copy each piece you see. I would use destiny 2 model archive, open in blender, render enough reference i need and post them in PureRef. You'd probably need: 8 angles for the body, 8 angles for the head (zoomed in), the inside part of the arm and leg, and maybe more variated angles for the head. By 8 angles i mean front back left right and the 4 in the middle)

Perspective skill (this is generally important in drawing, but for armors (which is mostly about inorganic stuff) this probably matters a little bit more. For example, the shoulderplate might be in weird angles when the character move their arm and you should make sure you can draw that in these weird angles. The general advice would be to just go to drawabox.com and learn as much as you can, at least part 1 lesson 1 and draw (a bit of) 250 boxes challenge?)

Btw, by "copying reference" i don't mean "pose the character in game or in blender and copy / trace the pose and things exactly what you see", i mean "you shouldn't just imagine the armor pieces and clothe design of the character, you should know what the design looks like by seeing a reference and copying its design"

And that's it. Go slap some armor on some figures... Okay maybe I should give some examples.

Let's use these 2 as examples

So first of all, who are these people anyways? They are the Limitless Subversion hunter set (& exo chassis & ghost) and Reynauld from darkest dungeon, so you should probably go and prepare your reference now.

Now the least fun part imo. Drawing the figure.

"Least fun" because all the proportion, motion, perspective information, and just basically anything should be dealt with at this stage and i'll be more and more unconfident in my figure drawing and perspective skill as time goes on. The rest of armor is just detail that you can mindlessly slap on the figure later.

probably should make things more block-y to see what i mean by perspective

not perfect but you get the point. you should know which direction the arm / leg / torso is facing so you can slap the armor at the correct position and angle.

...tbh that's just part of the figure drawing skillset. you also need that when you slap muscles on a figure

(just a random example for my practice note don't actually try to figure that out it's probably wrong anyways)

As for how exactly to do the figure drawing... there's tutorials literally anywhere and each person has their own way to do that. can't really help you with that, go google some videos or just crunch the andrew loomis figure drawing book. free online btw. Also anatomy helps a huge ton even if youre not actually drawing muscles.

And the next step is just stare at the reference and copy the armor pieces on the figure

that seems like a big jump but tbh we've dealt with the most difficult part in the figure drawing section so this is just mindlessly drawing now. the general advice i can give is to get a dual monitor (to not clutter the screen with reference too much), try to understand what each piece looks like in 3D, make sure the armor pieces is in the right orientation, and (do your best to) figure out if what you're drawing would violate the perspective rules you learned before (which should also be dealt with in the figure drawing part)

Detail / Niche Advice Section

we are talking about armor and clothes and outfit stuff so there should be a lot of niche detail stuff that would be beneficial to do or learn

the things i can think of now are these

DIY (do it yourself) means this is a common topic and there should be some tutorials online or in books (e.g., fur, crease), or just do it a bunch of times and you would somehow get the gist of it (e.g., hood). (i kinda hate learning that way because it's just pure coincidence whether you "get it" or not and that makes me uneasy because there's a chance that i'll never get it. but yeah sometimes this is what you need. Go and stare at / try to copy other people's artwork as practice and you MAY get what they're doing. Don't just mindlessly trace them btw it won't help if you're not actively using your brain to understand what's going on)

And that's it. It's probably too much for an AMA but let's just say i'm doing this as a record of my process

#ramble #my art

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jokeb0i-art · 3 months ago

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Oml I’ve been following your blog for YEARS (new blog now, but I’ve been here since 2020 I believe at this point haha), and just got to say I adore your artwork and everything you do - very inspiring art- wise haha. You’re basically what got me into DC lol.

Anyway, do you have any speed paints you could post on tumblr or even just any tips you have on how to draw people/faces? I always try to improve my art and am getting pretty, good, but struggle SO hard with the first sketch when it comes to stylized people and expressions. Any help/tips/pics you can give would be so cool, as I admire your artwork and style so much

youtube

nice! can't believe it's been five years since then lol

and here's an old one from my Youtube, though it uses a symmetry tool which I wouldn't use these days

Honestly, faces are one of the hardest things to draw because subtle changes can make a really big difference, it will take you VERY long time to get a good grasp of them, almost as long as it takes to get good at backgrounds, or rendering or anatomy, but it's mostly a balance between rotating a 3D shape (the head), proportions and studying ppl's expressions

my most important notes i'd say are:

1. expressions are never almost never symmetrical, there's usually an eyebrow raised a little more, a slightly lopsided smile, ect. ect. 2. noses are difficult but thankfully not too necessary and will get easier to draw the better you get at art 3. take 3D space into consideration, the tilt of someones head can drastically change how an expression is read 4. dimples, nose wrinkles, crows feet and forehead lines make all the difference when it comes to subtle expressions, don't be afraid to use them even if it seems to age your characters 5. PRACTICE, look at people's faces, examine their emotions, feel how your own face stretches and squishes when it moves, a good example is how Disney and Warner Brothers animators used mirrors to draw expressions, even for characters that looked nothing like themselves:

#Anonymous

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lint-beetle4 · 7 months ago

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*Kicks door down with a feral expression.* Oh sisters im back from war! Anyways as soon as i saw your asks are open i back bursting in lol. Okay but to the point, i would like to ask for Wukong x m reader x Macaque fic. I dont care if its kicking my legs fluffy or jaw dropping smut i just wanna eat up some more of your work.

(^If your not comfortable with the request feel free to ignore it and leave it be, thought dont forget to take care of yourself and have a lovely night/day!)

((If there's already a 🦝 anon i will be really sad if not i won the prize :D))

REDACTED asked:

please make a fic or pic of Macaque and Wukong fucking the shit out of a male!reader (or each other) and the bottom is so full of cum that there's a lil cum belly appearing. I'd love it if there's a praise kink involved and or their body weight is crushing the other. (If you do reader, since the monkey's are cannonly 4 ft, the reader could be a lil taller than them.) Neck shit is so hot to me and extra points to bite marks! And a few more for licks and kisses on the body, starting soft and teasing the neck then get overstimulated as time goes on.

At the start if you want, Macaque can tie reader down with his shadows but that is purely an extra…just an FYI I love chubby and strong guys (soooo chubby Wukong is a plea) (Also also reader is a bottom lol)

Muses and Messes (Macaque x Male!Reader x Wukong Smut)

Alrighty chat, we're kicking off with a rare triple-combo-request the only smut I'm doing this round since I had this fic in the fucking oven for too long, it was fun writing though, plus the peeps over on AO3 get some smut art (I'm afraid of Tumblrs policies, so you guys over here get it censored like the holy children we are)

You know the drill, porn below with an image this time!

“Honestly, I just don’t understand how you can make shapes turn into a whole human being.” Wukong hummed, Macaque smirking behind him.

“It’s easy, Wukong. You just need to do it piece by piece–you know, instead of trying to draw the whole body in one go..” Macaque’s tail flicked as he sketched onto a new sketchbook, pages already filled up and wrinkled with countless eraser shavings that thinned out the page significantly. Macaque mumbled to himself, practically hissing at his paper, “If only the shapes could orient themselves correctly.”

You looked between the two as they drew. It was a strange request to have the equivalent of two gods knock at your door and ask for art lessons, but you couldn’t complain with the amount of money they were eager to give you. You could easily have your rent and bills paid for the rest of the year with that kind of cash.

“It’s all about practice mostly, not everyone draws with geometric shapes, some people just freehand it.” You explained, quickly sketching out the two styles, a messy yet natural human beside a stiff yet cleaned up person. “It’s all about how you prefer to learn and what style you’re going for.”

“You think you can find your style, Wukong?” Macaque teased, sticking his tongue out at the king. Wukong rolled his eyes.

“I could do it today if I keep it up!” The old monkey chirped proudly. “I’m already getting a hang of everything.”

You sighed internally, watching as the two of them began to race over perfecting human anatomy. Their eyes glanced over to you occasionally before more scribbles filled the room. Contently, you drew out the two before you, figuring that they would forgive you for using them as subjects–an eye for eye, you mentally grinned.

Their bodies were pristine, sculpted by time and the godly nature radiating through them. You knew well of the tales between the legendary Monkey King and his adversary, the nigh-omniscient Six-Eared Macaque. The power the two held rivaled that of heaven and the Jade Emperor himself, and the power of Buddha was the only thing that could keep them down for the count.

As the years passed, the world grew to know less of them, both of them disappearing to their own journeys and fates.

It was only until a few months ago that you were even aware that the two had returned to the public eye–in some fashion, at least. It was until now that you were aware of their healing bond, an interesting detail that had you wondering for more about the two.

For now though, you were content in simply drawing them.

“How’d you do that?” A voice had rumbled behind you, causing you to yelp and jump from your seat. Macaque leaned against the chair, his expression never changing but briefly, you swore you saw the curve of lips and a flash of teeth.

You glared at the darker simian, sitting back in the chair before opening up your sketchbook again to the doodle of the two monkeys you had centered on the page. “Practice, mostly, that and you two were so focused on drawing that you were still enough for me to get the pose right.”

“Hmm,” Macaque leaned in closer, his fur tickling the side of your arm as he inspected your work. “Interesting…”

“My people don’t look like that.” Wukong appeared beside you, his tail grabbing your sketchbook while he looked closely at your drawing. “How do you make them look so…unique?”

“Oh, well, it’s about shapes, mostly–again, heh.” You stumbled over your explanation. “Design is kind of a personal thing, like–I would say you choose your designs based on what you feel is right.”

“What feels right, huh?” Macaque purred in your ear. “Hmm, that’s a unique way of saying it.”

Macaque’s breath tickled at your neck, blowing a puff of air into the shell of your ear with a wide smirk. Wukong’s tail had long since wrapped around your arm, a knowing glance shared between the two of them.

Macaque whispered to you again–somehow closer, yet almost hesitant.

“Could we explore your body, see how right it feels?”

You shivered, your heart thumping loudly against your chest. You didn’t expect your lesson to end up like this, but…

It was…tempting…

Wukong’s voice whispered in your other ear, impossibly quiet for the boisterous sage. “We’ll make you feel good, give you a reward greater than the riches we could offer.”

You couldn’t resist the warmth of their breath nor the way their touches soothed invisible pains in your body. You didn’t know you were so tense, yet at their gentle command, you were caught in a willing trap, a net that embraced you yet restrained you.

On your knees, you were tied up in shadows, naked before you knew it. The shadows were chilled, not quite cold yet definitely not warm. You shuddered at the sight of Wukong and Macaque’s glossy fur, half-hard dicks presented to you. A silent question rose, and you answered, licking along Wukong shaft while Macaque’s hand stroked his own cock.

Wukong’s cock pulsed against your tongue, throbbing as he became fully hard. You whimpered under your breath, brain mulling over the next steps. You felt a hand–Macaque’s–stroke your hair comfortingly.

“Do as much as you can,” Macaque’s voice was sweet, slightly tense as he forced himself to stop stroking. “You’re doing great.”

Your brain felt mushy, cloudy–like the world had stopped spinning and time only waited for you to begin anew. Macaque’s hand never left your hair, never stopped petting you in his show of support. You took the tip of Wukong’s cock into your mouth, hearing Wukong’s breath nearly hiss out in your sudden movement– it sent waves of pride through you.

Slowly, you lowered your head, relaxing your jaw as you took Wukong’s entire length, feeling his tip hit lower and lower into your throat.

You looked up, feeling Wukong twitch in your mouth while your tongue lapped up what it could. Wukong’s eyes were glazed over, looking down at you in anticipation yet pride. You hummed, smiling to yourself as you began to move, hearing Wukong’s breath stutter again as you bobbed your head enthusiastically on his cock, tasting the salty yet strangely fruity precum that your throat practically milked out of him.

“--Fuck,” Wukong groaned, his hands clenching at your hair like a lifeline, sending shocks of pain and excitement through you. “You’re real good at this, y’know?”

You felt your core coil at those words, warmth spreading through your body as you continued to lap at Wukong’s dick, the taste slowly consuming your thoughts.

“Oh, you like that, don’t you?” Macaque muttered behind you, his hands rubbing your back while you focused on Wukong. “You like being praised like a good boy, huh?”

You couldn’t answer in your position, but Macaque still chucked to himself. “Keep doing what you’re doing, and you’re headed for a looong night.”

Your mind quickly came back to you; memories flashing through your mind before a particularly calculated thrust jolted you back to the present. Macaque growled behind you, low and rough grunts from Wukong joining in as they continued to abuse your asshole. You couldn’t feel your legs, but the warmth from Macaque’s chest nearly burned you while Wukong’s movements sent waves of pleasure through your tired body. Everything ached, yet you craved more.

They were as much animals as you were a toy to them, and your core clenched at the thought. You felt something sloshing in your stomach, warm and pleasant inside of you.

“Hey–” A hand lightly slapped your face, Wukong slowing ever so slightly to look at the mess you’ve become. “You with us?”

You nodded, groaning as Macaque had stopped entirely.

“Keep–mng–keep going,” you pleaded, feeling the low rumble of Macaque’s chuckle.

“If you say so,” and they continued, not bothering to start slowly.

Low whispers sang into your ears while your cock bounced against your stomach, Macaque and Wukong pressed against you, nearly crushing you.

“Such a good boy for us,”

“Look at you, taking us in so well,”

“What a cute boy you are.”

You whimpered against the heat surrounding you, feeling your stomach tightening as you slower creeped to your edge.

Suddenly, they stopped again, warm cocks still inside of you. You groaned, your head slamming into Macaque’s shoulder while Wukong chuckled.

“You aren’t finishing yet,” Wukong purred, licking your neck. Macaque hummed behind you, kissing your cheek before sinking his teeth into your shoulder, pain sinking into your sweaty skin. You whimpered, feeling tender kisses and light nips across your neck. Wukong went lower, pressing more kisses along your body and giving your dick a teasing lick to your dismay.

Macaque lowered you slightly, shadows cooling your heated skin while you hummed in question, trying to ignore the pained ache in your body. Low purrs rumbling through his throat while his hands caressed your chest.

“Wukong, you done over there? Our muse here looks like he’s going to explode.”

Wukong muttered under his breath, something about the importance of patience and care. Macaque chittered to Wukong, the sound almost a warning to your ears, but Wukong gripped your legs, looking at you with lust-ridden eyes.

“Ready?”

You nodded, your own hips bucking with need.

You were quickly filled again, Wukong growling into your ear. “Hope you’re ready for this round.”

In one thrust, he bottomed out with a grin, eye gleaming with finality. “You’re not going to be able to walk after this one.”

“Enough chit-chat, Wukong.” Macaque groaned, desperate thrusts from his hips. “Your voice is grating enough.”

Wukong’s hips moved, hitting your G-spot with impressive accuracy. You melted into their crushing touch, eyes closed as bliss overcame you. They slowly sped up, your hips bucking up in your quite loud desperation for release. Your moans echoed through the room, growls from all sides of you joining in on the sex-filled duet.

You felt a snap in your core and screamed out, feeling the cooling touch of a shadow stroking you off as you came intensely, more cum filling you up while Macaque and Wukong pressed against you.

The three of you panted intensely, shadow tentacles releasing you gently onto the couch while cum poured out of you. The two monkeys seemed barely phased, sweat being their only marker for any sort of exertion. They grinned down at you, kneeling down by the couch to hum their praises while they cleaned you up gently.

“You did so well for us.”

“What a good boy.”

You drifted off into a blissful slumber, your lower half practically numb yet shaking at the same time as the sounds of quiet cleaning sang you to sleep.

#art #writing tag #lego monkie kid x reader #lego monkie kid x y/n #lmk sun wukong #lmk x reader #lmk x y/n #lego monkie kid macaque #lego monkie kid

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