#turns out when you draw in a way that's comfy to you you can actually finish stuff lol

[pioneer-over-c]

a

[readerstories]

what about nr 3 on the list with deadpool & wolverine? with who is up to u

Okay so this got away from me a bit lol, but anywho, here's some Poolverine x gn! reader :D Drabble requests with the latest reblogged prompt list open until the end of the weekend!

Prompt: 3) “How do you feel about adding another person to the mix?”

Warnings/tags: established relationship, pre-relationship, polyamory

Wordount: 815

Logan is still not quite used to being around a lot of people without it being a bad thing, but Wade's friends (and by now, his) filling the apartment are kinda nice. He most likely will get overstimulated at some point, but for now he's relaxing on the couch, beer in one hand, the other arm thrown over the back.

“How do you feel about adding another person to the mix?” Is the first thing Wade asks when he flings himself down onto the couch next to Logan, and bullies his way into his side. Logan grunts, arm moving from the back of the couch to curl over Wade's shoulders.

"Not that I don't think you are enough, but I think it would be really hot to have some more filling in this sandwich! Or for me to be the filling between two hot bods! Or you between one hot bod and one half-rotten bod." Logan growls at the insult Wade hurls at himself, but that's something to take up and argue about later, not right in the middle of all their friends. Which by the way, Logan is happy none of them have enhanced hearing (that he knows of), because of course Wade had chosen a chaotic moment to bring this new topic up.

"Who?" He's not unfamiliar with polygamy at all, it can be a lot of fun, but he's picky (he can allow himself to be that now, in this universe).

"I'm not going to point, so look over towards the snack table, but try to be subtle even if that isn't your strong suit, my little brute." Logan looks around the room, pretending he's just letting his eyes wander, before they settle at the two people standing and chatting over there.

"Dopinder?" Wade groans, hitting his head against Logan's shoulder.

"Yes, Dopinder, straight as an arrow Dopinder, who is disgustingly in love with a woman. No! The actual cutie chatting to him, you fool!" He figured Wade meant you, but fucking with Wade is fun, even in small ways. He lets his eyes wander all over you. You are indeed cute, but also hot. The clothes you are wearing look comfy, but also good, like you put effort in even if you were only seeing friends that no doubt have seen you in worse.

You catch him staring, his gaze almost like a physical weight. You give him a little smile and wave before turning back to Dopinder. You shake your head with a smile at something he says, Logan wonders what about.

"I can hear your gears turning in that not so little head of yours." Logan turns to Wade, who's watching him with big and eager eyes. It would be a lie to say he hadn't looked before. He had looked since he first saw you at the first party Wade did after Logan moved in.

Well, it wasn't the first time he had seen you, but he was a little preoccupied to notice how good you looked when you were crammed into the polaroid that Wade had waved like a shield in the Honda.

He had never planned at doing more than looking, happy with having just Wade, but since the man is offering…..

"Yeah." Wade grins at him, leaning forward to plant a wet, but quick kiss on his mouth.

"Fucking knew it. Their charm is irresistible." Wade glances over to you, clearly checking you out while Logan checks him out, squeezing his shoulders.

"How are we doing this?" Logan asks, drawing Wade’s attention back to him.

"Well, I think you should get up and get over there, work your irresistible charm. Conveniently, you need a new drink." Logan looks at his still half full beer, but before he can say anything, Wade snatches his drink and downs it in one go. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, and it's through sheer will that Logan's thoughts and blood doesn't go straight south.

"Now up and at 'em' tough stuff." Wade pats his cheek, Logan snaps after his fingers, but gets up. "And be a dear and grab me some snacks. Some actual ones, not just the one we are trying to get into the pants off.” Logan rolls his eyes, starting to walk over to the snack table where Dopinder is showing you something on his phone now. Your mouth is full of food, so you cover your mouth as you laugh, your eyes connecting with Logan's over the edge of your hand.

Logan hopes this goes well, he's rusty flirting with anyone else but Wade (he doesn't think the threat of stabbing you would go over well). But he doesn't worry too much as you keep looking at him as he approaches, and then draw him into the conversation as he nears.

[zordanna]

𝓑𝓲𝓻𝓭𝓲𝓮

A fluffy fic inspired from this old drawing I did🍃

English is not my first language and I hate writing so don’t expect too much. It’s just a small scene where Sebastian realises he’s in love with my MC, you can imagine yours there too of course! I ain’t stopping you🫡 enjoy I guess?

Sebastian yawned softly as he kept silently reading his history of magic notes while sitting on the carpet and resting his back on the couch, Eleonora was next to him laying fully on it while reading the chapter trying really hard to not fall asleep.

“Ugh I swear I’m failing this time”

She mumbled while flipping pages. Sebastian rolled his eyes and spoke back with annoyance.

“You literally have the highest grades of all the students in our class, shut up-”

Eleonora huffed and gave him a soft nudge with her knee in response.

“Just because the competition prefers wandering in the restricted section more than studying actual subjects. You know- instead of  forbidden ones”

Sebastian groaned and rested his head on the couch seat cushion to look at her better.

“You are a pain in the ass.” He breathed out glancing back at his notes pretending to ignore her.

“The feeling is mutual”

She ruffled his brown curls gaining a soft laugh from him , the boy rested one cheek on the  cushion and gazed at her while his notes ended up spread around the intricated embodied carpet of Russel  living room. Sebastian  glanced at the book and got an idea.

“I can read it for you, if you want, so we both learn something at least”

His proposal sounded quite nice to Eleonora, she gave him the book and set herself comfortable as he cleared his throat. He started reading and he could almost feel her gaze caressing his skin, Sebastian didn’t know how he managed to say the words correctly without fumbling while having that lovely pair of blue eyes staring at him, the warmth of her presence, her sweet scent of lavender and soap pervading his nostrils…Merlin help him!

On the other side Eleonora’s eyes were looking at his freckles, she always thought they looked like a starry sky , sometimes she would find full constellations in them while stealing glances at her friend’s features. She  glanced  at his lashes, was it even legal to have them so long and soft? The way they fluttered while he was  reading, the way the sun was making them shine with a warm orange shade. She was mesmerised. That’s for sure. The words sounded like a sweet lullaby rather than an actual lecture on how their ancestors channeled magic trough the years, her eyes felt heavy and her body a little too relaxed. 

Maybe if she closed her eyes just for a second…yeah that should do it.

Sebastian was reading the last paragraph when he heard  soft snoring coming from his right side ,he turned his head a little to check on Eleonora and a warm smile formed on his lips as he realised she had fallen asleep. He closed the book putting it away before adjusting himself leaning closer to the sleeping girl. He rested his elbow on the couch cushion careful to not disturb her rest, as usual Eleonora needed her afternoon nap.

Memories of their third year flashed in his mind, rainy afternoons spent napping all together on the same couch down in the undercroft between a mess of books and unfinished candies. Anne was still…well Anne. No curse, no pain just Anne, sleeping peacefully while her tiny head would rest on Ominis shoulder as he was  nestled up almost like a cat. Eleonora’s long blonde hair would tickle his nose as he often found himself using her soft curls as a pillow. They always smelled so good it wasn’t his fault they felt so comfy.

Instinctively Sebastian brushed off some of her blonde strands that were framing her face, very carefully as if she was made of porcelain. Her long blonde curls that once were left wild and free were now tied up in that blue ribbon he gifted her almost two years ago.

“You keep wearing it all the time mh?”

He mumbled softly more to himself than to her. The soft blue satin fabric was a bit smudged near the knot after years of wearing it every day, that’s what happens with the things you love most isn’t it? They change. 

Sebastian always questioned why she would refuse to buy another one, a prettier one maybe made from the most expensive silk with embodied details but she always said that one was just perfect. She loved it.

And he loved how beautiful she looked with it. He loved the way it always made her eyes stand out matching their colour, he loved how it swayed like a swallowtail when she would rush around the hallways late for classes trying to not trip on other students. Swallows are a sign of hope and freedom, he was certain that if she had to be an animal she would be one of them. She was always there trying to see the good side of everything, which in his darker days was both infuriating and yet comforting. It was reassuring  having her slapping some sense in his thick skull sometimes, he couldn’t deny it.

He also loved that, her scolding tone, her stubbornness and resolution whenever he was acting like a complete ass. He loved the way she would ruffle his hair to annoy him, he loved how her soft hands were making him feel butterflies flying around his stomach every damn time…

Sebastian’s chocolate brown eyes were fixed on Eleonora’s delicate face as the sudden realisation hit him like a whole bombarda in his chest.

He was falling in love. No. He was in love. Utterly. Undeniably in love. 

He didn’t realise his face was few centimetres away from hers till now, his lips dangerously close to hers. Before doing something stupid and reckless he pulled away slightly and took a moment to gain his composure, his eyes wandered around the luxurious living room of her family’s manor, the paintings of the Russels were almost staring at him, judging him with their cold gaze.

Who was he trying to fool? He was nobody compared to her family, an orphan living in a cottage with his grumpy uncle, it would never be fair to her. Knowing her parents Eleonora had probably her life planned since day one, as her older sister Ofelia once told him they lived in a golden cage with all comforts but still a cage. It was all doomed from the start so- for now it was better to suppress those feelings. To pretend they never had been there.

For now having her friendship was more than he could hope for, Sebastian looked at the big wood carved clock and checked the time, it was getting pretty late, he sighed and with a soft spoken tone called for her.

“Hey…Birdie”

The world would never want them together, that’s what he was telling himself, yet when he saw those blue eyes and that warm sleepy smile greeting him Sebastian thought that the world could burn or destroy itself in that exact moment.

The world would know Lady Eleonora Russel but Birdie. Birdie was just for him and that was all he needed.

“Birdie? What am I a chicken?”

Eleonora said with a snort while sitting up and stretching a bit letting a yawn escape her lips.

“No more like a goose.”

Sebastian retorted with a cheeky grin. She had no idea of what passed by his mind all the short time she was asleep.

“Ouch- did I snore loud?”

“Terribly. I mistaken you for a troll or something at some point.”

Eleonora laughed at  the statement and crossed her arms in a proud stance. 

“Was I annoying you?”

“Terribly.” Sebastian said faking an exasperated sigh.

“Good. I can consider my mission accomplished then”

She added with a chuckle while they both got up to walk towards the kitchen for stealing a snack or two. Luckily her parents wouldn’t be back till next early morning considering their habit to attend balls and ceremonies  maintaining their high social status connections. That was a relief for the two of them but also for the servitude. The house elves were quite fond of Eleonora, a true ray of sunshine in that toxic household.

The afternoon passed by with their usual playful bantering like any other. It was better pretending nothing happened for Sebastian, it was for the best really.

Was it? Only time would tell. For now they were just fifteen, sitting on the kitchen counter munching a stolen slice of lemon tart while yapping about how they were both convinced Professor Garlick was hiding “special plants” somewhere in the greenhouse. 

It was a normal  spring afternoon during the end of the 19th century.

Flowers were blooming , birds were chirping and the air smelled like clean laundry and soap.

Winter was just a distant thought, none of them could ever imagine how everything  would irreversibly change in few months.

Moments like these would be soon turned into distant faded happy memories but for now…it was all that mattered.

[letsbangchanblog]

NSFW ABCs for KEEHO

Mature content: 18+ post! Minors, do not enter!!

Summary: NSFW ABCs

Idol: KEEHO from p1harmony

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Keeho is really sweet after sex. I think he is rather vanilla and slightly traditional (even if some think otherwise). This means he is blessed to even be having sex. He thinks it's such an intimate thing for you guys to experience together. It makes him really emotional. This is why he wants to make sure you are cared for afterwards. He would draw you a bath and clean the sheets kind of guy. He wants you to feel how grateful he is for you trusting him enough; it doesn't matter how often you have sex. He is making sure you know.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He has said it before, it's his eyes. He loves expressing himself with them as well. He likes to think he has “love you” eyes during sex.

He loves your thighs. He thinks they are so soft, thick, and comfy. He had no idea he was going to love living between them until you asked so nicely.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He cums ALOT, but not often. This might be why honestly. He loves having sex with you but you guys usually only engage in foreplay. You guys live for days edging each other. He thinks it's more meaningful this way.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He is secretly into being tied up and light BDSM, but he is sooo shy about it. He thinks you will hate it but you would really love it. He is slowly going to learn that.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He did have sex before but he wants sex more than ever before; it makes him think that you were made for him (soulmates).

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Missionary because you guys can hold hands. He loves any position that includes this. If you are on top, he would die if you hold his hands while having them behind his head. He will cum in three seconds.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

I don't think he would even mean it but yes. He would just naturally be funny. He ends up loving the way you laugh during sex sometimes. It warms his heart.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Very dark and trimmed. He will not go bare or full bush. He refuses. He would never control your grooming so don't control his grooming.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He NEEDS it to be romantic even when you start exploring non vanilla sex or he would stop.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

I think he masturbates every once in a while but would never tell you. He is thinking about you and he is worried you would think he is perverted. BUT YOU WANT THIS (again he will learn over time).

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

I think he wants to fuck you in a car so badly. He doesn't think it's actually possible so he won't ask but he has jacked off to the thought.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Bed most of the time. You guys will foreplay anywhere but he won't put his dick in you without it being in the bedroom (until he learned the fun of it in the shower)

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Your love. He gets horny from loving you so much. Its hardly sexual when he wants to fuck you; he wants to show you his love.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He will not slap your face only your ass but he is even shy about that. He acts so much more confident than he actually is. He would never want you to have the chance of mistaking his actions.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

LOVES HIS DICK SUCKED but he never asks for it. He is so lucky you just love doing it. You guys have oral sex more than regular sex.

He loves eating you out so your thighs will squeeze his head and your moans.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Very slow but rough thrusts. He will go fast here and there but most of the time it's slow and deliberate (his love is shown with it)

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

No, but you guys can feel each other up.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Not willing to try until you slowly start asking him to explore. You have to slowly approach things though or you'll lose him. If he doesn't think he can show his love with it, he won't do it; however, if you ask slowly, he will think giving in (he secretly wants it) shows his love.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He doesn't last very long but will go multiple rounds. It's all about making love and will keep going cause it's not as often as messing around.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Slowly ask.. but know if you ask him to use a vibrator so you can come on his dick… HE will learn to use his hands really well. HE HAS TO DO IT CAUSE HE LOVES YOU NOT A MACHINE.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Gives in… would never want to deny you but fails to remember he will play with your ass and tits then run away..

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Moans and whimpers at a medium volume but will do it in your ear. You guys are making love and he wants you to hear how much he loves it.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Loves you in lingerie or dressing up. He thinks it's so nasty and freaky (but it's kinda basic).

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Huge boyfriend dick and he has no idea. He was made to be the perfect boyfriend.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

It's higher than he wants to admit. He thinks he is too horny but he is actually average.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He is too giggly most of the time. He is just so happy, he can't rest.

[redrose10]

Part 2 of three… Thank you for all the comments and messages!

CEO Yoongi x Female Barista/College Student Reader

Title: Cold Brewed Love

Summary: When you begged the owner of Jin’s Java House to hire more employees you didn’t mean for him to stick you with the cold, rude, arrogant CEO Min Yoongi. Over time something begins to brew between you both and you end up forced to make decisions way above the pay grade of a cafe barista.

Warnings: Angst, swearing, hints of smut(nothing explicit), Yoongi is mean but we all know he’ll turn fluffy later, violence, kidnapping, mention of a gun, drug references, gang activity, murder, overdose

Word Count: 3,824

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You woke up confused and alone in a room you didn’t recognize. Your throat hurt, but your head hurt worse. You looked around trying to make out your surroundings to get some idea of where you were. The room was empty except for an armchair in the corner with a small side table next to it. The only light in the room came from a small space between the curtains of what you assumed was a window. It seemed like you had been out for quite some time judging by the amount of sunlight.

You tried to stand up, but you felt too weak immediately falling to the ground. You tried once again, but froze when you heard the door handle begin to jiggle. The door swung open and a light was turned on making you squint from the change in brightness.

“Good morning Y/N, good to see you’re finally awake. Can I get you something to eat or maybe a coffee?”, a deep unfamiliar voice spoke.

“Who are you and how the fuck do you know my name?”, you spat not in the mood for pleasantries.

The man walked in and took a seat in the chair across the room. You took noticed of his expensive looking suit that was tailored to fit him perfectly. His hair was slicked back. A strong cologne followed after him. He reminded you a lot of Yoongi.

“Is that anyway to speak to the man that saved your life and took you away from that monster?”, he said while lighting a cigar.

You scoffed, “You saved my life? My life was just fine until you kidnapped me and threw me in this room.”

“Oh dear Y/N. You really are too good and naive for Yoongi.”, the man chuckled.

The mention of Yoongi made your breath hitch.

“How do you know Yoongi?”

“Well Y/N…I am glad you asked. You see me and Yoongi go way back. We met when we were just children. We used to be very good friends, actually like brothers. We ran a little side business together. The largest drug manufacturing and distribution organization since the 80’s, you know… nothing too extreme. Then one day Yoongi’s parents decided to finally give him the reigns to control the business and suddenly he didn’t need me or our organization any more. I agreed to let him walk away because he was my brother and I loved him as such. I wanted him to have a good life either way.”

The man paused to take a long draw of his cigar before continuing, “But it turns out that wasn’t good enough for Yoongi. He was selfish. He wanted to take everything we had worked for while also making sure his past life would never get out to the public. He lied to me. He deceived me because he knew I trusted him. He took all of our assets, every cent. He destroyed any evidence that could be linked to him. And then to top it all off he went to the police to get the whole operation shut down to make sure this could never come back on him. But..unfortunately for him I’ve been able to build back most of what we had even though it’s nowhere near what we once had. It took a lot of time and cost me a lot of money and many of my men all while I’ve had to watch him live the life of luxury in his comfy office, going to galas, being praised and awed by strangers around the world that don’t know how evil he really is behind the facade of expensive suits and sultry looks. I vowed that I would get my revenge against him and make him pay for what he did to me…to us. I was starting to loose hope that I would ever get my chance.”

The man suddenly stood up and took a few long strides to kneel down in front of you. You pushed yourself back against the wall as far as you could while trying to conceal your whimpers.

The man poked his finger against your forehead, “And then I saw the photos of your little date. I could see it in his eyes…just how in love with you he is. I knew this wasn’t some random hookup like the others. And I knew that my time had finally come. Min Yoongi took everything from me and now I will take everything from him.”

“So what are you going to do? Just kill me to get back at him?”, you scoffed.

“Oh no no no Y/N. Not yet at least. I’m going to have some fun first. I want him to suffer for a while. I want him to worry about you until he’s sick to his stomach. For him to know your pain is all his fault. Then I want to kill him.”

You watched as the man walked over to the door before he turned to look back at you, “At the end of the day Yoongi doesn’t care about anyone or anything except himself, his image, and his money. You’re going to learn real soon about the real Min Yoongi.” The man stood up and left you speechless as you watched the door slam shut behind him.

“Fuck fuck fuck”, Yoongi chanted as he drove around trying to figure out his next move. He knew he never should’ve asked you out. He scolded himself for being weak for you.

He thought back to the first time he saw you and how he developed an immediate crush on you. Something he’d never experienced before. He saw you behind the counter of the coffee shop. You were definitely new. You kept eyeing him before quickly turning away every time he’d try and make eye contact with you. He knew you liked him. He wasn’t stupid.

Unfortunately he liked you too. Your cheeks flushed from nervousness and the heat of running around in behind the counter. Your hair wet from sweat and plastered to your forehead. You bit your lip in concentration as you poured the coffee. You looked so cute to him and he wanted to get to know you. To date you and make you his.

Then you shakily handed him his coffee only to knock it down on the counter spilling all over his favorite custom made shoes. Sure he had three other pairs so it really wasn’t a big deal, but he took it as the opportunity to scold you hoping to make you hate him. Selfishly hoping it would keep you away from him so he wouldn’t fall for you even more.

But it didn’t work as he had hoped and he quickly fell more madly in love with you every time he saw you. Then his parents made him get a job at Jin’s Java House. He knew it was a bad idea from the start. He tried to argue with them, pleaded for another option but to no avail. He thought he was strong enough. He started off trying to be rude while working together to make you hate him even more then he already knew you did, but it only made him feel guilty and left him wanting to make it up to you any way he could.

Then he tried distracting himself with other women, sometimes as close even ten minutes before he came down for his shift at the coffee shop with you. But even when his secretary was topless and moaning underneath him as he thrusted into her on his office couch all he could think about was you and your beautiful smile and how he wished it was you below him instead. As he was burrowed deep inside someone else he fantasized about how he would take his time and do everything possible to pleasure you until it was you screaming his name over and over. He knew it was a lost cause at that point because he was a man in love. And now here he was driving around the city while you were God knows where because of him and his weaknesses.

Yoongi regretted his past life. He wasn’t proud of what he did. He had gotten in a little trouble at school so his parents had told him he was a failure and they would sell the company before allowing him to take control. He felt hurt and useless and desperate to prove them wrong.

So as a teenager he turned to crime. Him and his best friend started dealing drugs. It started small with just some weed or pills here and there to other friends and their acquaintances. Then it got bigger and bigger until next the thing he knew they were moving thousands of kilos of various drugs every year worth hundreds of millions of dollars. They had bases in Seoul, LA, New York, Tijuana, London, Rio, Moscow, and Beijing as well as dozens of smaller ones he couldn’t even remember any more. Money was rolling in like he’d never seen even though he already grew up wealthy. He had a new woman every night and said goodbye to them before the morning with no strings attached. He was on top of the world and the best part was he was doing it all with his best friend.

Then he got a call. His dads health was deteriorating. The generational family company was falling apart. His mom was coping by drinking and popping pills, probably from his own supply unbeknownst to her. They were proud of him for becoming so successful in his “pharmaceutical business”, a lie he told when people started questioning his job or where his money came from. His parents had changed their minds and wanted him to take over the company. Become the ceo and bring profitability and success back to the family name and business.

At first Yoongi told them to fuck off. He wasn’t going to give up what he had worked hard for after they tossed him aside like he wasn’t their own flesh and blood.

Then days later he got another call from one of the few people in the world that he respected, his grandmother. She asked Yoongi to take over the company that her and his grandfather had fought so hard to build and turn into an empire. She didn’t want to see it given to someone outside of the family or worse have it shut down completely.

Yoongi tried to politely decline, but then solemnly she begged him. She begged him to take over not only to save the company, but so that he could escape his life of crime before he ended up in prison or worse. She cried reminiscing about how many times she stayed up all night worried about him and what he was doing out in the world. How every phone call made her heart skip a beat fearing the worst. How she saw families being torn apart thanks to him and his business’s product. She begged him, even referring to him as her little dumpling, a nickname she had often used for him growing up that he hadn’t heard in years.

Yoongi didn’t ask how she knew about his secret life. He didn’t want to know to be honest, but he knew he didn’t want to be the reason for her tears any longer. So he called his parents the next day to accept the position.

His friend had been kind and understanding, offering to let Yoongi just walk away from everything and leave him in charge.

At first that was fine. Then one night on his way home he found out that his neighbors daughter overdosed. She was just sixteen. A star student and respected ballerina already being scouted by some of the biggest dance companies from all over the world. Yoongi knew the drugs were from his prior organization. There were no others around at the time.

He watched the girls parents standing in the pouring rain until their knees gave out and they hit the concrete and sobbed as the stretcher carrying their daughter was wheeled into the back of a waiting van. After that night his grandmothers voice started playing over and over in his head often keeping him up along with the screams of the parents he heard that night.

Yoongi decided he wanted to erase that part of his life like it never happened.

Because he was still trusted by his friend he had access to the bank accounts which he wiped clean. He destroyed every document he could find that would tie him to the organization. Anonymously he contacted police in every city he could think of and helped them to track down all of their operations getting them all shut down. Multiple people were arrested and a few even killed. He did his best to convince himself that their blood was not on his hands.

And when the few that were arrested tried to snitch and implicate Yoongi there was no significant evidence and the little the police could find was quickly swept under the rug thanks to a little cash swung their way.

Yoongi was able to walk away without anyone knowing of his past life. His friend left to pick up the pieces of a once great empire. And now here Yoongi was paying the price for something he thought was long behind him and could no longer keep him from happiness.

You walked around the room as you looked for an escape. The window had bars around it. Of course the door was securely locked. There was nowhere to go. You didn’t have your phone any longer. You resigned to taking a seat back on the floor trying to come up with a plan.

You weren’t sure how much time had gone by but at some point later in the day a woman appeared with a tray carrying a bowl of soup and some toast as well as an apple and a bottle of water. You thanked her even though you had no appetite at all.

As you sat under the window staring up at the little bit of the sky you could see you wondered what was happening in the outside world. What happened at the coffee shop when you didn’t show up for work? Did they call looking for you? You were going to fall behind in your classes if that even mattered any more. Was Yoongi even looking for you or was he worried this would get out in the public and ruin his image? It was all becoming too much and you began to cry fearing the future and the unknown.

After a while of crying and dozing off you decided you were getting a little hungry. Remembering the tray from earlier you decided against the soup which was now cold and gelatinous, but the toast still seemed okay so you picked it up taking a bite.

It was slightly stale but passable. As you mindlessly chewed you noticed a small piece of paper on the plate where the bread had been.

With your brows furrowed you unfolded the paper finding a hand written note. The writing was barely legible as it appeared quickly scratched down and was written in some kind of lipstick.

“I’ll come back tonight. When you hear three knocks at the door be prepared to run.”

Your mouth went dry. Your heart began to race. Quickly you chugged down the bottle of water as you contemplated if running was worth the risk. Surely if they caught you then you would be killed. And who is this woman and why is she helping you? What if it was a test?

You had a million different thoughts going through your mind, but they were cut short.

*Knock…Knock…Knock*

Slowly the door creaked open and the same woman from earlier peaked in the room. She motioned for you to follow her. What did you have to loose you thought so you did.

The two of you tiptoed down the hall and some stairs before you heard shouting after you.

“Run!”, the woman shouted so you sprinted not far behind her. You ran down hallways and and stairs. Looking for any exit door.

Just when you saw your hope, a door with a large window facing the outside world just down the hall from you, you were grabbed and harshly thrown down on the ground. You looked up seeing Yoongi’s friend breathing heavily.

“This is what I get huh? I tried to let you stay upstairs in a warm room. I gave you food. Yoongi always said I was the soft one out of the two of us. I guess he was right, but not any more.”, he spat dragging you down the hall by your arm.

Frantically you searched for the woman from earlier who tried to help you. You hoped she got out or was at least safe, but you quickly realized that was not true. A blood curdling scream rang through the air followed by a single gunshot. Your eyes widened in horror.

“Don’t worry sweetheart. I’m not gonna kill you just yet. Not before you’ve gone on a final date with your Yoongi.”

You swallowed down the lump in your throat as the man threw you in a cell, the iron gates loudly clanking shut. It looked like you were in a dungeon. It was cold and there was zero light coming through.

Without speaking the man tossed you an old dirty towel to use as a blanket before heading back upstairs leaving you down there alone.

Days went by. You were barely fed and barely slept. You had accepted your fate at that point. Unsure if it was the delirium setting in or what but you often found yourself chuckling at your situation.

You missed the days of going to college. You missed your friends. You missed the smell of coffee and the warmth it brought. You couldn’t believe how your life had turned around in the matter of hours all thanks to you falling in love with a lier, con artist, the devil? You weren’t really sure how to view Yoongi right now. He was probably leading a meeting right now without a care in the world. He’s probably going out to dinner later with some woman he met on his way to work with the sole intention to get in her pants by the end of the night. A small part of you hoped he was worried about you. Looking for you. Doing anything to help. Because a small part of you still loved him.

You hadn’t heard anyone walk in until you heard the iron gate slide open ending in a loud clank.

“Put this on. And use these wipes to clean yourself up.”, an unfamiliar voice said.

You sat staring at the items in front of you not moving.

“Bosses orders”, the man growled.

Slowly you grabbed the wipes and began wiping down your face and arms. It actually felt kind of nice.

You reached for the other items, a black cocktail dress and hair brush. You took the brush and ran through your hair a few times until the knots were out.

You looked at the dress and then at the man in front of you. He rolled his eyes and sighed before turning around and facing the wall. Quickly you removed your clothes and put the dress on before the man could turn around.

Just as you finished, the familiar smell of cigars entered the air and not long after Yoongi’s friend appeared.

“Wow don’t you look nice. I can see why Yoongi likes you. I think he’ll appreciate that you dressed up just for him.”, he said before blowing a cloud smoke through your cell.

“Now go ahead and stand up against that wall.”, he pointed towards the other side of the cell.

You crossed your arms in defiance refusing to move.

He chuckled, “I like you Y/N. I really do. Too bad I’m only giving you twenty four hours to live.” Your face dropped in realization at his statement.

A bright flash lit up the cell for just a moment before you realized your photo had been taken.

“Thanks sweetheart. I’m sure Yoongi will love it.”, he laughed before leaving you alone once again.

Yoongi was back at his place pacing back and forth. He’d ignored call after call from Hobi. He’s sure he’s wondering where he and/or you are and he doesn’t have the brain power right now to come up with a believable lie.

As he stared out at the river below his apartment he heard a new notification on his phone. A text message from an unknown number came through showing the preview of a photo.

Clicking on the message he instantly dry heaved sure he would’ve fully vomited had he consumed anything today.

A photo of you in a black dress. Your hair frazzled. Immediately Yoongi noticed the bruising on your body. The cut on your lip and welt on your forehead. What killed him the most was the look on your face. The look of fear, of despair. He could see you were holding back tears and it was all thanks to him.

Seconds later another message came through, “Y/N’s a beauty Yoongi. I always did think you had good taste when it came to women and it seems like even after all these years nothing has changed. You have 24 hours to find us. If you involve the police I’ll kill her instantly. If you even care…”

You had changed back into your old clothes giving yourself a little more coverage from the cold. The floor was made of stone but you were so exhausted you were able to drift off to sleep quite quickly.

You fell into dreamland. Dreaming that you were on a beach. The warm sun shone down on you as a breeze rippled through the air. The ocean waves crashed gently against the sand next to you as you walked along the edge. Looking up you saw Yoongi just down the beach waiting for you. He flashed you a gummy smile showing you the two drinks he had in his hands. Just as you began to walk towards him the sky turned dark and a giant wave came crashing down on you dragging you out to sea. You screamed for help unable to get yourself out of the current as the waves kept you down. Running out of fight you felt yourself slowly drifting under water father and rather. The last thing you remembered was hearing Yoongi screaming your name.

You jerked awake sweaty and out of breath with your hand clutching to your chest.

Sitting up you did your best to try and calm yourself down taking deep slow breaths.

Faintly from a distance you swore you heard your name shouted. You brushed it off thinking it was just a residual memory from your dream.

Then you heard it again, a little clearer this time and you were a little more certain.

“Yoongi?”, you whispered to yourself hearing a familiar sound as the door slammed open.

[kiwii-11]

fool! guy x fool! honey where honey loves to get up early in the morning to get the most out of the day, but guy still hates it and would rather stay in bed with them than get up, but honey is just so excited to start the day.

“guy, c’mon…” they whine, tugging on his arm to drag him out of bed, “it’s already 8am, we can go get breakfast now! remember that pancake place you like? we can go there, even though it’s an hour away and i’m pretty sure the waitress didn’t like me because she never came back with my coffee refill but you got yours three times. do you think she has a crush on you? maybe we shouldn’t go…”

“honey. enough.” guy groans into the pillow on his face, bed hair tousled about as he sinks further into the sheets.

“grumble grumble grumble—babe, we have to seize the day! c—uhhh—carpe diem? carpe diem!” they muster out as they straddle their boyfriend, tugging the pillow off his head, “look at me, darling, apple of my eye, cream in my coffee, love of my life — look me in my beautiful, open eyes. you will get up, and we will go get breakfast.”

guy stares at them through lidded eyes, fighting off being awake at a time like this. his hands rest on top of their thighs, thumb gently caressing them.

“it’s way too early to be getting up, honey,” he sighs, rubbing his eyes, “can i at least stay in bed for… an hour more?”

“an hour? a whole hour?”

“yes, i won’t go back to sleep, i just want to… rest my muscles.” he yawns.

honey purses their lips, drawing hearts on his chest. “mmm, but what if they use up all the good strawberries on other customers? i need my fresh fruits, my beloved, dearest, darlingest, sweetie pie, sugar plum. if i don’t, i’ll go crazy—”

“you’re already crazy; who the hell is awake before 8am on a saturday?” guy asks, opening his arms as honey leans down and rests on top of him, “you need a hobby.”

“i have a hobby.”

“staring at me while we facetime on break isn’t a hobby.”

“i have… an infatuation.”

“god, take up crocheting like a normal person or something.”

honey presses a few kisses against his cheek and neck, humming happily as he squeezes them a little. “you love all the attention i give you.”

“i suffocate.” he claims, running his fingers up and down your upper back.

“you know how to suffocate me in just the right way, uhhn—”

guy flicks their forehead, showing an embarrassed look and a roll of his eyes. they whine, rubbing their forehead with a sly smile. guy mutters something about them being ‘gross’ and a ‘pervert’.

honey chuckles, shuffling their body so they were under the covers with him. they rest on his chest, arm holding around his waist and their lips pressed to his collarbone. they leave a trail on the way to his lips.

after a few kisses, guy turns his face away. a deep blush covers his cheeks, furrowed brows following.

“okay, okay, relax, honey.” guy mumbles in a broken tone.

“wha—‘relax’? you’re tellin’ me to relax when i have my perfect, handsome, sexy sexy sexy, pizza delivery boyfriend laying beneath me?” they fake gasp, smooching his forehead and nose as they hold his face in their hands, “you are speaking nonsense! are you sick, sweetie? do you need me to make you feel better? i know a couple ways i could do that, uuhnnn—ow, ow, ow! let me go!”

guy stops pinching his cheek as they swat his hand away.

“so mean!” they giggle whilst propping themselves up onto their elbows, hovering above him, “ugh, this is my payment for making your life so—so bright! so playful and whimsical! where would you be without me?”

“probably sleeping in this comfy bed.”

“this is actually my bed, remember? your bed frame broke when we were moving in with kayla so you had to sleep with your on the floor and you kept falling off the side—”

“i remember, honey.”

“and then you got used to it so the first time you slept in my bed, you rolled off the side and had a bruise on your cheek for a week. you looked so upset when i woke up and saw you on the floor! do you miss sneaking around the apartment? like there's some kinda' rush, isn't there?"

"i much prefer living with just you," guy hums out with closed eyes, “we don’t have to hide our relationship this way.”

“i can’t believe kayla found out because you be quiet enough when i’m s—”

guy smushes the pillow against their face, grumbling out something to do with their nasty words. they laugh, putting the pillow down and pressing kisses to his lips. he relaxes into them.

“c’mon, baby, let’s get up. i’ll even drive.”

“you are not driving after you nearly drove us into that tree last week.”

“i was lost in your eyes :(“

he scoffs with a grin, lifting himself up with honey sitting on his lap. they tilt their head and wrap their arms around his neck.

“you should get a medal for putting up with me, huh?” they chuckle.

“yeah.” he replies, pinching their cheek affectionately.

they pout. “you wound me.”

[runa-falls]

pornstar!moon-boys x fluffer!reader

part three: jake

a/n: some headcannons bc we filthy up in this bitch >:) 1.5k??? i'm overcompensating for something lmao

others: marc | steven | more steven

as a fluffer, it's your job to know how to keep the boys interested. each alter has their own preferences:

(NSFW 18+ under the cut)

jake: the troublemaker

GIF by manny-jacinto

Jake was the last (and final?) alter you met. He didn't ask for you the first time you met. Actually, you thought you were seeing Marc, but it turns out Jake was 'covering this one' for him, whatever that means.

It turns out Jake had been in the industry longer than Steven but you've just never met him. Unlike the other boys, he was used to taking whatever fluffer was offered on set, not really preferring or caring who was preparing him for the day. It never really mattered to him.

And then he met you.

His eyebrows raise when you walk in, eyes taking in every inch of your body. You're dressed in a pair of comfy shorts and an oversized shirt, hair styled casually so it's out of your face (Marc was going through a phase where he craves to see you in pajamas, needing that extra domesticity and softness).

Jake doesn't greet you, or even bother to stand up from the couch to shake your hand. He looks...amused, like he recognizes you.

"You're that girl that has my brothers wrapped around her finger." It's not a question, more like a statement.

He leans back against the couch as if to get a better view of what's in front of him. He looks like Marc, but he doesn't sound or carry himself like him. And he's definitely not Steven.

You don't deny his words, "And... you are?"

"Lockley, Jake Lockley." He still doesn't move to shake your hand, just says it with a nod.

"Another...?"

"Yeah, there are three of us... As far as I know."

"Where's --"

"Marc? I dunno." He doesn't look too concerned. It's almost like he's barely interested in the conversation when it isn't about himself. "But I'm here." You catch your first glimpse of his famous smirk, one that you've learned spells trouble.

You've named Jake as the troublemaker of the trio because he constantly bends the rules and does what he wants. Especially with you.

For one, he's the first alter you ever fucked. Actually, he's the first pornstar you've fucked, too.

Usually you have a longer session the first time, but 20 minutes would have to do. He's still staring at you, sitting on the couch with his legs spread wide. Inviting.

You go up to him like any other client, not phased by his dark eyes and mischievous allure, and straddle over his thighs. His hands immediately come up to hold your waist, steadying you easily against him.

Other than that, he doesn't make a move, clearly waiting to see what you'll do.

"So what do you like, Lockley?"

"Aren't you supposed to figure that out, sweetheart?"

Kissing Jake always takes your breath away. He's demanding but somehow he makes you feel like you need it, not the other way around.

He's dirty with it, drawing you in with soft kisses before nipping at your lips and then deepening it by laving his tongue against yours. It's addicting how smoothly he moves against you, tempting your body to take it a step up, to cross that line.

You are sitting up on your knees just a few inches off of his lap, hovering over and making out with him, hands cradling his jaw. You have the upper hand (and are literally over him) but you've never felt so lost in a kiss.

You feel his hands drag from your waist to your ass. He grasps you, shoving your loose soft shorts up so he can feel your skin against his palms. You let him.

That was your first mistake.

You're distracted by his mouth when his hand shifts from your butt to your aching center. You've been dripping -- soaking since he gave you a taste of his tongue, since he first held you.

You let out a surprised moan as his fingers press flush against your clothed core, stroking against your most sensitive area. He applies the perfect amount of pressure against your cunt, brushing and prodding at your entrance over your clothes before cruelly teasing your clit.

You let it go on far longer than you should've, but it just felt so good. And then it felt too good.

He rubs your clit until you're seeing white, until you can only think of him and how he's touching you.

You gasp, "Jake!" Your legs shake from having to hold yourself up as he pushes you off the edge. He growls as you wrap your arms around his shoulders to keep you steady. You settle back onto his lap, forehead resting against his chest as you pant and calm down.

He's hard as a rock against you, practically pulsing as he watches you come down from your orgasm and melt against him.

He figured you out, and you, him.

Jake gets off on getting you off.

When you're his fluffer, you're his to touch, tease, and prod, not the other way around.

You wouldn't really call him a 'giving' partner because at the end of the day, he does it for himself.

He's selfish in how he'll pull orgasm after orgasm out of you, just because it pleases him. He doesn't care if you're writhing under him.

That first session didn't end where it was supposed to. Giving you an orgasm was already more than you're used to. But he kept going. You were distracted, caught off guard.

That was you're second mistake.

Before your lust-fogged mind could wrap around what was happening, your loose and stretchy pajama shorts were tugged to the side and he was pushing up into you.

The stretch was intense, but he slid in easily with how wet you were for him. You both groan simultaneously as he filled you to the brim.

After that first round, Jake ceased production for the day, telling everyone to go home while yelling "Don't fucking interrupt me" on his way back to his dressing room.

---

(He's not allowed to fuck you during working hours anymore -- they even put it in his contract. He wasn't too happy about that.)

Needless to say, you were called back the next day.

As much as Jake loves to play with you, sometimes there isn't enough time, especially on bigger projects with less time to fool around. In those cases, he takes a quick sloppy blowjob.

And by sloppy, you mean sloppy.

He loves watching you struggle to swallow him down, eyes shiny with tears and drool dripping down your neck.

His hand grips your hair, guiding the smooth pace as you bob against him. You whine as he slowly speed up, your jaw is already tired and knees are sore. You hold on your his hips to help stay steady as he starts to thrust back into you, cock hitting the back of your throat every so often. You gag and he growls.

He's the one who pulls you off, knowing his own limits.

He's the most controlled out of the three, able to slip you off his cock just at the right moment before walking out and starting the day.

He groans when he peers down at you, "Fuck...I wish I could cum down that pretty throat," You're wiping your mouth, lips still vibrating from the way he fucked into you. "C'mon baby, let's go. Call time's in five." You comb your fingers through you messy hair before he helps you up.

Then you follow him out.

Like Marc and Steven, he also refuses to be prepped by anyone else. But he also takes it a step further (bc of course he does), he takes you to set with him. Like some 'bring-your-girlfriend-to-work' day.

(oh yeah...you're with them now...)

You didn't even know that you were allowed to physically be on set when scenes are being recorded, until Jake insisted, claiming he could only keep it up if you were watching.

Sometimes when he's fucking a girl (or fucking himself) he looks up, eyes scanning the room until he finds you. The cameras don't exist to Jake and this isn't his job. Porn -- or being recording -- is just him doing the company a favor and letting them have a glimpse into his bedroom habits. He doesn't give a fuck.

He meets your gaze and sends you a cocky smirk, hands restraining the body under him as he roughly slams his hips against hers. It never fails to make your breath hitch and skin bloom with heat.

He gives you the same intense look when you're under him, choking on his cock. He's imagining that you're under him now, stretched and ruined for him. Whimpering and crying out for more. As much as you try to ignore him, you can't. It's like driving past a car wreck, you can't look away.

Directors have had to scrap countless recordings for the final production of videos when he'd get really carried away, grunt dirty words in spanish to the girl in the corner of the room (you) that the camera can't even see.

It's not all bad though, the company sometimes uses those behind-the-scene vids of him, basically cuckholding you, for exclusive content. And viewers go feral for it. Probably because it's more genuine than half of the videos out there.

[novankenn]

Cinder: (Swings door open quickly ignoring the note.) My Queen! Those brats have broke into the castle we must stop!

(Pauses while looking at the scene)

Jaune: (His head on Weiss's lap as she runs her fingers though his hair) Alyx was a brat but she still was like family she didn't deserve what that cat did.

Salem: I understand life is usually cruel. Now tell me more about this Curious Cat.

Cinder: WTF?!?

Cinder stalked through the halls and corridors of EverNight Castle. Her twin obsidian blades ready to strike down the intruders... if she could find them. Normally she would have zeroed in on the sounds of conflict and combat, but there was none. The grimm she passed, when she did come across them were just wandering about aimlessly, that was if they weren't sitting or laying down.

So without the sounds of a fierce pitched battle to guide her, Cinder was forced to actually search for the interlopers... who she knew was team RWBY and their friends.

Cinder: This is RIDICULOUS! I must ask my queen for help, to locate these brats.

Cinder made a turn at the next corner and stomped her way toward the throne room. She emerged from one of the side halls into the main corridor and turned towards her destination. Five minutes later she stood there before the large double doors... in total shock.

Cinder: I...

A Beowulf, dressed in a tasteful skirt and blouse ensemble, matched with a set of sensible heels, and topped off with a pearl necklace, and a pair of wire rim glasses... stood before the doors baring her entry.

Cinder: I...

The Beowulf pointed to a sign near the door, well a set of signs in fact. It took ever ounce of her will power to draw her eyes off the figure before her, and look at the signs.

(1) If the doors are closed there is either a meeting or session in progress. Unless it is an EMERGENCY no admittance.

(2) Sessions are by appointment ONLY.

(3) This is a ZERO TOLERANCE work place. Anyone causing a disturbance, or harassing staff will be asked to leave. Failure to do so will cause the authorities to be summoned.

(4) I am the boss, but my secretary is in charge. If she says NO then it's NO. There are no exceptions.

Cinder: Secretary?

The Beowulf nodded its head and using a metal ruler tapped the desk name plate.

Cinder: Grendelsa Grimmsald, Executive Assistant to Doctor Salem Salem?

The Beowulf who Cinder now knew was named Grendelsa nodded.

Cinder: But, I...

Grendelsa: *Grunt like growl*

Cinder: I know I don't have an appointment, but this is an emergency! The castle is under attack! I must speak to Queen...

Grendelsa: *Growl like grunt*

Cinder: I mean Doctor Salem.

Grendelsa pointed to a set of rather comfy looking waiting room chairs, and Cinder knew instantly she had no choice. So she sat down, and after a few seconds wiggled her butt into the plush cushioning getting more comfortable.

Cinder dozed off, and awoke with a start at the sound of the door opening.

Salem: I understand it is quiet the commute so I will have Grendelsa arrange for some accommodations for you, as in my opinion there is a need to have a few more sessions over the next week before I feel confident that we can space them out further. Is that acceptable Ms Schnee? Mr Arc?

Weiss: More than. Thank you for your hospitality, and all your help.

Cinder shot to her feet, her eyes wide in shock. Salem, her queen. Malevolent Evil Incarnate was in a black pant suit, wearing glasses and SHAKING HANDS with the SCHNEE who was holding the hand of the blond wanna-be knight from Beacon!

Jaune: I still don't...

Salem: It's alright Mr Arc. These things take time, and we progress at the pace that you set. There is no rushing this. Your mental health is very important, and with Ms Schnee's support and my assistance we will help you find resolutions.

Weiss: Can we give it a couple more sessions Jaune? I really do think this is good for you, me and us.

Jaune: Okay. I'll try a few more times.

Salem: Excellent. Grendelsa will make all the...

Cinder: WHAT THE FUCK IT THIS!!!!

Salem: Ms Fall. Those types of outbursts are not acceptable!

Cinder: WHAT THE FUCK, SALEM? THEY'RE FROM BEACON! THEY'RE YOUR ENEMIES!

Salem: Lower your voice or you will be escorted out.

Cinder: WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?!?!? ARE YOU GIVING THEM THERAPY???

Salem: You were warned Ms Fall. Ms Grimmslad if you please...

/==/

Twenty minutes later Cinder found herself sitting outside of the main gate of EverNight Castle, right next to Ruby Rose, Yang Xiao Long, and Blake Belladonna.

Ruby: You get kicked out too?

Cinder: ...

[my-darling-boy]

It’s horrible how my design course has killed my enjoyment in creativity because all they want is finished pieces founded in nothing but a spontaneous mark just to hang at some concrete art gallery or to sell to some “join our revolution” comfy business-casual company with a prison cell wellness room. I’m not saying that it’s “not art” —cos that’s a different post altogether— it’s that the ethos behind this particular formula for art education is ruining the way we think about creation.

Design courses (and other art courses I’ve heard?) are no longer teaching artists or designers techniques, drawing skills, art fundamentals and allowing them to find their own voice so much as they are only instructing how to tic boxes alongside pushing corporate and classist motivated style/methodology bias aimed at producing workers, not creatives, not to mention providing Adobe with endless funds for their despicable scam programs. That’s it. My creativity is only a means to money for them, and if they can extract the process of creation from me without the complex creative intimacy involved in it, they know they can churn out products and services faster and it’s concerning some lecturers don’t seem to be aware this is what they’re teaching? Like they’re buying into industry propaganda?

And the whole time it’s sold to you like you can be some trailblazer when the irony is they’re usually either prepping you for cubicle work or for some misguided high horse creative team pumping out design solutions completely divorced from the reality. I’m tired of all the talks about sustainability in a vacuum with no conversation about nuanced designs that factor in broader social and economic perspectives which lack thereof is leading to sustainable products being sold at a price only able to be afforded by wealthier people who are causing said economic and social problems and contributing to the rapid obsoletion of trades and crafts. Lecturers and speakers don’t seem to think that’s any of our concern and should just worry about producing the design for the hypothetical Bluetooth powered organic hairbrush or using the twigs to make the pattern for the £85 fabric square.

Like? Can I please make something that actually resonates with people outside the circle jerk of egotistical creatives and corporations? Something charming and maybe idk something that doesn’t make me want to tear my miserable portfolio in half with my teeth? And they’re like Mm nope sorry it has to be an extreme close up of a mark making abstract leaf you made from a recycled trash bag inspired by a stalled urban space which we will force you to price at £100 during your exhibition 5 people will bother to attend and no you’re not allowed any other style cos this isn’t the Dark Ages :///

I think the worst thing my lecturer ever said was, while looking around the room of our class work reduced down to a series of cubes and splatters and abstract typography, “Wow, I love how you can’t tell what anyone’s [main artist discipline] is!” Like awww conformity at the expense of a person’s individuality to make pieces for airport hallways and rich people’s living rooms wow so cool heehee like girl that’s not good?? Why on Earth are you complimenting us for that? Like I get it, I thought this course would boost skillset as an illustrator (as we were told), turns out the degree is really not for me, fair enough to anyone thinking that, but forcing students to produce modern abstract art because you think it’s the ONLY Logical Pathway for the future of design, judging them intensely for doing a different style, and thinking producing financially inaccessible art + design is the solution to things like climate change and community severance is an objectively bad take.

[demonsword586]

Horn grinding headcanons! Gehenna

(I apoligise but I been having THOUGHTS...and I wanted to make something like a list of all devils and how their horns would feel for grinding,starting of with Gehenna devils.)

Sitri

-first things first,the ~ shape would probably feel like a bulge

-it's also quite decent in size and he only has one horn,which is actually an advantage,since you might have a hard time finding a comfy position with a devil who has more than one

-also if you put his head between your thighs,you can pull on his ponytail

-his head probably smells like tea,so bonus points for that

Satan

-Yes

-very big,they're also in a very nice position

-also very smooth,so it may will be easier to glide against them when they're wet from cum/milk/any other liquid

-the only downside is that he would act like a brat and bite your legs or move his head away when you're close

-so kindly slap him and hold him by the tip of his horns or tug on his hair,he will enjoy it

Paimon

-okay it would be a struggle to get the position right.

-won't let you grind on them until he takes those stickers off OR will do his best to make you release a lot of juices(finger you,edge you,bite your thighs) so the stickers have more of your scent and he will keep them for years

-his horns are actually quite thin and the distance between them...like I said,this is a tough cookie to grind on,penetration might be better

-also he may prick or bite you on purpose to draw out your blood

Leraye

-okay for humping,the unicorn shape might be the safest and most straight forward one.

-this one even has a golden retriver attached to it

-absolute obedience! You tell him 'stay',he stays still...but when he's close,he may not be able to hold back much longer and will hump his head against you instead

-will keep the teddy bear on,either to make you more comfy or to get your scent on it

Zagan

-(omg bunny ears!)

-ngl that shape...would be perfect for a vibrator

- his horns have so much girth and lenght that all of your privates would be covered

-also that long,jankable hair...just imagine grinding on those cute horns and all of the sudden jank his head back,he may even let out a few moans!

-actaully since he has so much stamina he may be open to turning into a vibrator for you

-either way he will do all the work,to please his partner

Belial

-hmm...I don't want to be rude but...those are not grindable..kinda small

-if you somehow grind on those,applause to you

-but those are made for penetration...

-thankfully these average horns,have a masterfull tongue below them(really this man can write with his tongue,imagine what godly oral he could do)

-so you can get oral and horn penetration at the same time! (Imagine him sucking your clit/cock while he fucks you with his horn)

Astaroth

-okay at first nothing special,looks like he broke his horns...he turns around and DAMN! This man has a fucking grinding machine!

-The girth! The lenght! The position!

-I'm sorry but...his horns are laid flat against the back of his head,which is perfect for sitting down,not only that but his long ass hair is also there. Imagine how it would feel to sit down on this beast while his hairl tickle your legs

-the horns are pretty decent size and girth

-Oh! The bumps! Those are the cherry on top! I...it would feel amazing,that's all I can say

-the only downside is that he would probablly suffocate

[alphabetatoes]

you'd make me pay? (jjk x reader)

aka the one where you joke w the men of jjk about paying to get affection (g. satoru + n. kento + k. choso + f. toji)

a.n.: reader is a comedienne n loves to mess w these men (the way the toji one actually happened to me 🙃)

c.w.: 18+, mdni

gojo

"C'mon- Wanna mark you up. Let everyone know you're mine." Satoru had spent practically the entire night trying to convince you to let him give you a hickey.

"Give me $10 and I'll think about it." The issue wasn't Gojo's insistence on marking you. It was his inability to adhere to subtlety. Yet he adored when he could see those red splotches of skin peaking out of your shirt collar.

Gojo stretches his body across your legs, his frame managing to span the entirety of the couch. "Toru, you're crushing me." You move the rogue white strands of hair out of his face.

"Please babe. Need you so bad." His bottom lip bulges as his whining continues.

You cave to his begging, giving him a light pat on the arm. "Fine, you big baby."

Gojo lifts himself from you and pulls you into his lap, a goofy smile strung across his face.. He takes a chaste kiss from your lips, reveling in his victory. You tilt your head to the side as he buries himself in the crook, nipping and sucking along your neck.

nanami

Sharing a bath was not only a way for the two of you to spend time with one another, but to also relax from the stress of the day. Kento had poured the two of you a glass of wine, and you lit a candle to aid in the tranquility.

You're sat on opposite sides of the tub, indulging in the warmth of the water. "C'mere. Want you to sit in my lap while I wash your hair." Kento's hands draw soothing circles on your ankles, gently tapping them to get your attention.

You sink further into the bubble bath, taking a sip of the wine. "I'm so comfy though." The idea of having to move your tired limbs on your own was a travesty. "I'll need at least $15 if you expect me to move on my own."

"How about I make you dinner and give you a massage after instead?"

"You drive a hard bargain, Mr. Nanami." You feign concentration as you mull over his proposal. "But you've got yourself a deal." You clink your wine glass into his, cheers-ing to the proposal.

Once you're seated on Kento's lap, his strong hands make idle work to wash your hair. You let a hand sink to his waist, stroking against his cock to help him relax as well.

choso

You were nestled into Choso's chest as the two of you watched a movie in the living room. One hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you into him. His other hand laid rest on the top of your leg, which you let rest draped over his.

"Can I kiss you?" Choso's breath tickles your ear as he whispers his request.

"For a dollar." You purse your lips, waiting for Choso to lean in.

He reaches for the wallet in his back pocket, pulling out a bill. "I only have a $20- y'know what? Just keep it." As he shoves the bill into your hand, you gently push it away.

"I was only kidding, baby." You try not to laugh too hard as you quell his nerves. The sincerity staining Choso's face has you melting. You give him a sweet smile, grabbing onto his cheeks to pepper him with kisses.

toji

Toji was out of town on a job, leaving you unfulfilled for about a week. To help sate that aching feeling, you'd planned to video chat

“Your tits look great in that top.” Toji eyes you up and down, flashing a coy wink when he meets your gaze. “Think they’d look even better without it, though.”

Feeling playful, you give him an ultimatum. “Give me $5 and I’ll do it.”

“You’d make me pay?” His smirk turns into a pout, frustrated by your proposition. Whether he'd admit it or not, Toji missed you just as much. Craving for any glimpse of the body he had longed for.

“Now it’s $20.”

“Cut me a break, doll. Don’t need you actin�� like a brat when you got me all worked up like this.”

Toji pans the phone down to his waist. The material of his sweatpants is tented up as his dick strains against it. You flip him off and flash him a quick look at your tits, not quite giving into his demands.

He’d owe you big time once he got home.

[gi4hao]

☆ in which a bag of groceries make seungkwan measure the extent of your love

☆ seungkwan x gn!reader — cw: food, seungkwan’s tits are out (._.)

there’s a tension growing in your upper back from carrying so many grocery bags on your own. giving yourself a quick shoulder rub, you make your way to your bedroom whose door is still shut.

carefully opening it, you’re relieved to see it’s still pitch black inside; you’ve apparently been quiet enough not to wake seungkwan up. or at least you have been until now:

“hey sunshine”, his drowsy voice greets you from the bed. in the dark, you can barely make out his arms stretching over his head. “where were you? what time is it?”

he leans to the side to turn on your bedside lamp; the sight of his messy hair and sleepy eyes make your heart swoon just a little.

“10 am. i went grocery shopping, figured the supermarket would be less crowded in the morning”, you reply, sitting next to him.

and you were right, there was practically no one in the aisles today; which was more than welcome considering you had to buy enough groceries to feed all twelve members’ stomachs tonight.

“you should have woken me up!” seungkwan protests, but the way his eyes are still struggling with adjusting to the light proves how much he needed to sleep in. “…did you find everything you wanted?” he asks, lifting one end of the covers to invite you in.

you nod as you happily snuggle against his bare chest, something that might be due to the fact that most of his comfy t-shirts are hidden away on your side of the closet.

“i bought some peanut butter for the cookies, of course i’ll also make regular ones for vernon”, you start explaining, trying to remember the items in your bags: “some paper towels too. i also got some mangos to make those smoothies cheol told me about. oh and i found jun’s shampoo! the one that was sold out everywhere! he asked for two bottles just in case.”

cheek pressed against his skin, you can’t really see his smile growing a bit more with every sentence. but something about the way his fingers start to gently rub your scalp lets you know how grateful he’s feeling.

because not only have you made active efforts to remember these little details about the people he loves, you’ve made them happily and willingly. as if loving him and loving the people he cares about naturally came hand in hand to you.

“i think it’s about time i start gatekeeping you”, he eventually blurts out, bringing the covers up to your nose. “i’ll call the guys, tell them tonight is cancelled. i’m never letting you out in the world again.”

a bashful smile tugging on your lips, you prop yourself up on an elbow to look at him: “you can’t do that. you love showing me off too much. besides, we can’t rob the world of our insane chemistry.”

your words draw a chuckle out of him, because not even him and his usual wittiness can’t deny what you just said.

“i love you”, he simply replies, his fingertips lightly scratching the back of your neck.

you’ve been hearing these three words on a regular basis for the past couple of years, yet you’re still unable to suppress the giddiness in your eyes.

“i’m glad you do… because i paid the groceries with your credit card”, you reply teasingly, but it doesn’t take more than a few seconds before you add a sincere: “i love you too.”

basking in the intimacy of your old lamp’s yellowish hues, he leans forward to leave a delicate kiss on your lips, your breaths intertwining as his hand lays a bit flatter on your neck.

his smile echoes on your face when you finally break the kiss, as you watch him readjust his position to rest more comfortably on the pillow.

“you know, i might not actually gatekeep you forever… but i’m gonna borrow your freedom for one more hour”, he says, arms keeping you close to him, “i’m not ready to start the day yet.”

and for the next hour, neither of you can find their way back to sleep. instead, the room fills with waves of mundane conversations, laughter and soft kisses, reflecting the simple happiness of knowing you found the right person to spend a lifetime of mornings with.

[sanguineterrain]

ooohh werewolf!Jason with the prompt "you make me feel so safe" is giving my brain the good tinglies

hell yeah werewolf jay!!! hope u like aud <3

werewolf!jason todd x gn!reader. fluff, werewolf shift, wolf form, jason being worried about hurting the reader (ofc he doesn't tho he's my honeybunch sugarplum).

i rb all fics to @sanguinelibrary | requests are open!

****

"Are you sure you want me here tonight?"

Jason stands at the doorway, looking unsurely at the pile of pillows, blankets, and your clothing that you've constructed into a semblance of a nest on your bed.

"Of course I do," you say, fluffing a pillow. "What side d'you want?"

Jason frowns harder and takes a step back. "I think I should go home tonight. I don't—what if I... what if something happens? What if I hurt you?"

"You won't hurt me, baby," you tell him, and draw the blinds closed. "You never have, remember? Batman monitored you when you came back."

"A hundred other things could go wrong—"

"And we've planned for that, Jay," you say gently. "But it's unlikely, remember? It's just like any other shift."

It's quiet for a long time. You finish setting up, until Jason speaks again.

"I'm so ugly."

You turn in alarm. "What? Jay, what are you—"

"I'm not one of those TV wolves you see on Animal Planet. I came back wrong. I'm scarred and my eyes glow horribly and I've got big teeth and a-a monster's face, and—"

"Hey." You put your hands on his face. His eyes slip closed and he leans into your touch. You rub your thumbs in circles on his cheeks.

"You're not a monster, Jason," you say, the very word upsetting you. "I don't care what you look like, alright? You don't scare me. You make me feel so safe, actually. Doesn't matter what form you're in."

His eyes fly open. "I don't wanna lose you," he says desperately.

"Oh, honey. Is that what you've been worried about? Jay, this isn't going to change anything between us. Even if something goes wrong, you won't lose me."

Jason stares longingly over your shoulder, at the bed. You smile and tug his hands.

"C'mon, we'll get comfy."

Jason stops at the edge of the bed. It's close.

"If something happens, don't hesitate," he says. "Protect yourself."

"It's alright," you soothe, reaching to run your hand through his hair. "Everything will be fine, Jay."

The shift is quicker than you expect. The moon rises to its highest point and there's the crack of bone and muscle, something that Jason assured you didn't hurt but you're still doubtful.

He's big as a wolf, bigger than his human self. It's true, he doesn't look exactly like a traditional wolf.

For a moment, when his eyes land on yours, your heart skips a beat. You understand who you've just entrusted your life with.

Jason tips his head uncertainly, and backs up. You reach out a hand.

"It's okay," you whisper. He'd told you his senses are on overdrive in this form. "Jay, it's okay. C'mon up."

Despite his size, the bed only creaks a little bit. Jason herds you to the center of the bed and then completely curls around you. His tail hangs off of the bed. You're dwarfed in his fur. You can tell he's trying hard to be as gentle as possible. He still hasn't relaxed, obviously waiting for the tiniest hint for you to push him away. The thought breaks your heart.

You wrap your arms around his neck and push your face close to his snout, nuzzling his head. Jason whines softly.

"No one I'd feel safer with," you whisper, and kiss the patches of scarred skin that have no fur. "And y'know what? You're way better than those Animal Planet hacks."

Jason chuffs, warm breath fanning your ear, and you squirm at the tickle. You burrow deeper into him, and Jason hesitantly accepts you, finally letting himself relax.

Jason keeps you warm the whole night.

[cornerstoreclown]

May I like, request a blurb or something that’s describing a moment between art and reader in the little childhood friends au the other anons were talking about 👉👈 Can be anything! Maybe it’s just them reminiscing about their past. It’s up to you

Sure, I can build off of this one! Gender neutral reader x Art, childhood friends au. Since this seems to be a popular one among y’all which has shocked me. Not proofread because it’s 12am and I gotta be in an office tomorrow.

—————————

After dessert, that night you and Art spent hours going through that scrapbook he’d thumbed through earlier and stained with blood. He seemed a little more… Content? After some cheesecake.

Still didn’t make up for you ditching him all those years ago, and he’s certain to continue to hold that against you as leverage to get what he wants until he’s milked it dry.

With his hands now clean because you politely asked him to, you’re watching him take his time with each page. You’re curled up against him on your comfy couch, body leaning into him, your head resting against his shoulder. He supports your weight.

The room around you provides ambiance when you’re not speaking. The sound of your clock on the wall, and the television in front of you both at low volume, playing some old black and white romance movie that neither of you cared to actually watch. The news was an option, but you didn’t want to listen to whatever was going on in the world when all you cared about was right next to you, encased comfortably within these four walls that you could call a part of your home.

As he flips through various pages, there’s all sorts of memoirs of both your youth that ranged from photos to drawings to letters you’d send him. He was older than you. You were younger. But you grew up close together within proximity. You remember digging up worms in the dirt together, observing unlucky dead baby birds that fell out of their nest, watching the seasons as caterpillars turned to either moths or butterflies, and throwing bugs in spider webs just to marvel at the way nature could be so beautiful yet so cruel.

It was a constant cycle of life and death. That’s the way the world works, isn’t it? You think to yourself, as Art is still coated in now dried gore that fortunately won’t stain your couch, but may very well make it stink. He smells like death. And sulfur. He is death.

And he’s warm. So comfortably warm. You don’t have central heating system money, and fall is here. So he’s quite nice. A warm living furnace. But a stinky one. You wrinkle your nose.

“I kept a lot of our memories.” You confess as he’s nearing the end of the book, now looking at the pictures you cut out of your yearbook and slapped between the pages. He doesn’t look at you. It’s almost as if the clown is entranced, enticed and curious about a life that he almost doesn’t seem to recognize, like it’s the first time seeing them. But they’re all him, alright.

Art wraps an arm around your form as he continues to go through the contents of your blood, sweat and tears all pressed between leather and bindings. He pulls you in closer, attention never leaving the pages.

He appreciates the effort of documentation. And, you think, he appreciates you.

[deadtired-highkeyenergetic]

Tired Love

Sorry for the lack of updates. Been really tired and drowning in school work. Here's yet another addition to my Hunter series.

Summary: Memories and the weather cloud your mind but Bucky's presence always shines so brightly that it drives the darkness away

If someone ever asked who was the small spoon in your relationship with Bucky, the both of you would fight over the answer, insistent that the other one was the small spoon. In truth, it always changed, depending the mood of the day. Today, it was your turn to be the small spoon.

It was a chilly day, having just rained heavily but you sat outside at the balcony, letting the wind howl in your ears. Your knees were tucked to your chest, arms wrapped tightly around yourself as your hair stood on end, trying its best to protect you from the cold.

"I thought you hated the cold." A low voice sounds from beside you. Heat emanates from the body that seats itself next to you and you lean against it. An arm snakes itself around your waist, pulling you in.

"It's not cold," you mumble and he chuckles, the sound vibrating within his chest.

"Sure it isn't, love. That's why your hair is standing, right?" Blue eyes twinkle in amusement and the corners of lips tug upwards, causing you to smile in return.

"Yeah, that's right." You snuggle against him, a finger tracing patterns on his thigh. You feel him press a kiss to the top of your head, gloved metal hand brushing against your exposed flesh hand and your fingers intertwine with his.

"I managed to make Steve fall into the lake today," he hums. "He didn't see it coming."

"Did he drag you down with him?" Your thumb brushes over the back of his hand and starts drawing circles on it.

"He couldn't grab me in time. I learned from the previous incident and moved out of the way the moment he tripped over my foot," Bucky crows victoriously, smirking as he recalls what happened. "You should have heard the words that followed the splash, I never knew he could swear like that!"

"Well, clearly he's been taking some swearing classes from Tony." You can't help but laugh, trying to picture the scene in your head. "So that's why he was so grumpy when he came into the living room! He looked like he just took a shower!"

Bucky laughs, eyes sparkling with mirth. "He did take a shower in the lake!"

Your heart grows warm at the sound of his laughter ringing out in the cold still air and you find yourself grinning like an idiot, gazing at him fondly.

"So, the notorious Hunter can actually stop giving murderous looks. It's not permanently glued to your face, I was beginning to think it was." Bucky flicks you in the forehead, easily dodging your lazy attempt to return the favour. You groan, annoyed, and drop your head into his lap, burying your face into his thigh.

"I hate you," you mumble with zero malice.

"Love you too, babe." He ruffles your hair and you let out another annoyed noise, much to his amusement. Still, you remain on his lap, not wanting to move from your source of comfort. His cologne fills your nose, a pleasant smell that mingles with the fresh scent of the rain, and you find yourself playing with the fabric of his pants.

His fingers comb through your hair, strands twirling around his index finger as he plays with them and you find yourself starting to doze off. Your eyes struggle to remain open, the rhythmic massages on your scalp lulling you to sleep and you let out a yawn.

"Well someone's tired," Bucky hums, giving your cheek a poke.

"Excellent deduction, master detective." You roll your eyes, suppressing the other yawn that's trying to escape.

"Do you want to move to the bed?" He ignores your jab, gently brushing your hair out of your face.

"I'm comfy here." You reach up to trace his jaw. "Too tired to move anyways."

He leans into your touch when you cup his cheek, pressing a kiss to your open palm. "So you're going to subject me this uncomfortable position for the next few hours while you take a nap on my lap like a princess?"

"Sounds good." You smile before yawning again. "I might actually end up doing that."

Bucky sighs but his lips are curved upwards, "as you wish, princess."

"I'm not a princess."

"Sure you aren't."

"I'm—" Yawn. "—I'm a…"

You doze off despite your best efforts and Bucky lets his thumb gently brush over your skin where your shirt has ridden up, exposing your waist.

"You're the light of my life," he murmurs softly. "Even if you can't see that."

He watches as your chest rises and falls with each breath you take, oblivious to the world around you. Today was the day you'd killed your mother, the first person to truly love you, and the memories were clearly eating away at you.

It was easy to tell when something was weighing on your mind, the unnatural silence and distant look in your eyes always gave it away. The others could never really tell though, maybe it was the way you'd always smile and wave it off that fooled them, but you could never fool Bucky. He always knew.

"I wish I knew how to make you feel better. You always suffer alone, and I hate seeing you in pain." Bucky knows you can't hear him but it gives him the courage to say it all out loud. "You always know how to make me feel better, and I want to do the same for you."

You curl tighter into him and Bucky's breath hitches. His throat tightens, heart thundering in his chest as he freezes in place, hoping he hadn't woken you up. You hadn't slept properly in the past week, ripped from peaceful slumbers by nightmare after nightmare as memories crashed into your dreams, turning them red. This was the first time he had seen you sleeping so well, and he didn't want to ruin it.

Your breathing remained the same, chest rising and falling in the same pattern. Bucky lets out a quiet sigh of relief, murmuring a soft apology before resuming his vigil, ensuring no one disturbs you. It doesn't take long for the quietness of the gloomy afternoon and the rhythmic sound of your breathing to lull him to sleep, his eyelids drooping as he struggles to stay awake but he's fighting a losing battle.

You wake a few hours later, feeling far more rested than you've been in the past week and find Bucky lying on the floor, passed out. His brown hair is splayed all over the floor and his legs are still crossed, acting as a pillow for your head. His flesh hand remains resting on your waist, a grounding warmth in your grogginess. His metal arm is stretched out by his side and his lips are slightly parted, the perfect picture of cuteness.

Slipping your phone out of your pocket, you take a quick snapshot of the serene moment before lying back down on his lap, smiling contentedly. This felt nice, the warm and fuzzy feeling in your heart.

Maybe you do genuinely love him after all. Or it could just be the tired side of you being unable to process what's going on. It is, however, nicer to think that you are still capable of truly loving someone, and be truly loved back. So even if it's a fever dream, you cling onto this feeling, and reassure yourself that there's still a part of you that's human, that can love and be loved.

Because you're not sure if you can go on living without it.

[lawrites]

Rubens Can Suck It!!

Sweet Gotham S1! Edward Nygma x Plus Size! Female Reader

You are having an awful day when someone leaves a note on your desk, describing your figure. It sets you off, and Ed is the one who seeks to comfort you.

This fic features a LOT of insecurities, specifically around being plus size. It talks about the feeling of being seen by others and how shitty some officers at the GCPD are. But Ed is sweet. No warnings beyond that EXCEPT some dirty thoughts from Ed 👀.

It's been an awful morning and it's only 8 AM.

As a woman who works in a field primarily made up of men, especially a plus size woman, you have made your confidence into your armor. Yeah some of the officers could be pigs, (most of them, actually), but you do love your body and how it looks, so it doesn't bother you.

You enjoy wearing bold colors, pretty dresses, structured pant suits, and even pencil skirts to work most days. They make you feel infallible, and you KNOW you look cute in them. No matter what those tiny men say, you can get through the day feeling good.

And usually...it works. There are some days that you think everyone struggles with their looks, no matter their size. It's what happens when your society is constantly screaming "YOU CAN BE BETTER BUY THIS PRODUCT" at you from all angles.

And so, while you are beating yourself up for letting your confidence slip, you decide to go ahead and make yourself more comfortable while you get it back. Especially because trying to force it wasn't working.

Every glance in the mirror was followed by a critical voice, today. Your hair just didn't sit right, your chosen outfit was too tight and the textures were bothering you, and the high heels you sometimes wear would clack and bring eyes to you. All of that sounded just...exhausting, especially when you just want to get through the day and go home without drawing any attention to yourself.

While usually a pair of eyes on you wouldn't bother you, the thought of Harvey Bullock only staring at your tits when he talks to you, or Jim glancing up and down in what he thinks is a subtle way, or any of the officers giggling when you walk by...yeah it would take only one thing to set you off today, you can tell.

So, while it isn't the most flattering outfit you own, you throw your hair into a ponytail and pull an oversized sweater and linen pants on. Comfy, cozy, still professional enough, and properly disguising your body from any eyes, appreciative or insulting.

After that rollercoaster of emotions while you were getting ready, you don't have time to stop for coffee on your way in, which just adds to your mood. And, of fucking course, some guy decided to begin terrorizing Gotham at 7 in the fucking morning, so all public transport is delayed.

You barely manage to get to your desk by 8 AM with no coffee and already in a bad mood. Setting your stuff down, you dig your palms into your eyes, trying to fight off the urge to just leave. A small slip of paper in neat handwriting makes you smile just a bit, though.

What is always found on the ground

But never gets dirty?

You struggle for a second, your brain moving at a slow pace thanks to the lack of coffee. That is, until you hear footsteps and something blocks the lights streaming in from the windows. You gasp and turn towards Edward Nygma, who is standing right next to you and casting a...

"Shadow!" You blurt out.

He gives you one of his sweet, tight-lipped smiles and nods. "Correct!"

You force a cheery tone to your voice so you don't spoil his mood. Ed may be a bit...odd, but he is one of your best friends here, and he doesn't deserve to be brought down just because you aren't in a good mood. "Great! How many is that so far, Eddie?"

He immediately recites, "That would be 85 riddles correctly guessed out of 90 I have shared with you. 3 you needed a hint for and 2 you did not solve entirely."

You cross your arms in mock anger. "Hey! I did my best! Those ones were hard. It's almost like you wanted me to fail or something."

He hurriedly scrambles to get the next sentence out, "Oh! Oh I would n-never! I j-just..."

Whoops, guess your bad mood made that "mock" anger sound more like actual anger. You take on a placating tone, "Ed, it's ok! I know you just enjoy riddles. And sometimes that big brain of yours makes up a new one that stumps me."

You laugh, maybe a bit bitterly, now, as your bad mood forces itself to the front again. The next sentence is nearly mumbled, "I mean, it must be difficult, sometimes, making puzzles for someone who isn't as smart as you."

Ed seems confused more than anything, now. "I'm...I'm not sure what brought that on, but writing down riddles for you every morning is f-fun for me!"

You sigh, twirling a pen from your desk in your hand to avoid eye contact. "It's just...it's just one of those days, Ed. I couldn't find an outfit that made me look nice..."

Ed interrupts you with his insistence, but he still stumbles over his words, "B-but you always look n-nice!"

Your smile comes out as a grimace, "You're sweet, Ed, but everyone doesn't think so." You glance around to make sure that your next words aren't overheard. "I know that I can usually brush cruel insults away, because I try to tell myself I'm beautiful..." You choke out the last part of your sentence, cutting yourself off before you get too emotional in the middle of the office.

You get up and decide to leave the main lobby to get some of the shitty coffee from the break room. At least there you could better disguise the tears in your eyes. "It's really not a big deal, Ed. I guess I'm just not myself, today. Give it a day or two and I'll be more amusing."

And without waiting for a response, you hurry off.

He stands there awkwardly for a few moments, unsure how to respond to the dismissal you just gave him. Usually the two of you would talk for at least 5 more minutes.

Wracking his brain as he walks away, he tries to think of something to cheer you up.

-----------------------------------------

Rubens

Flashes of his paintings fly through Ed's mind as he attempts to type out a sweet note to you. Every time he gets a glance of a plush thigh or your soft belly, he thinks of how he painted Venus, the Goddess of Beauty.

A voice he's been trying to avoid for a while now pipes up, Yeah, Goddess of only beauty? I'm sure that's all you're thinking about, Ed. How about Goddess of Se-

Ed cuts the voice off before it can finish that thought, but now he is unfortunately thinking about it, even at work. Rubens didn't paint all of his women clothed, especially Venus. Her nude form fuses with yours in Ed's mind, haunting him, taunting him.

There's just...so much he can play with. Your body...so much he can sink his long fingers into. He goes back to your belly, what he has ascertained to be the main source of your insecurity. He empathizes with that, but all he can think of whenever you wear something tight is bending you over in the medical lab on site and holding onto that plush belly as he-

Again, he cuts himself off. He would like to think that the other voice took over again there, but those thoughts were all him. He adjusts himself a bit as he sits at his desk, trying to be subtle.

Then he looks back at the screen in front of him, remembering your mood today, and that hits him like a bucket of cold water. He curses the tears in your eyes from old insecurities popping up again. He has seen you become more and more confident in your time at the GCPD, learning to ignore the pigs that giggle at everything that isn't "normal" to them.

Ed knows that feeling, and especially the taunts from those cops, well. He's off, to them. He never quite knows when to start or end a conversation, and he injects his interests even when he knows people are tired of them.

And that's why he likes (loves) you. You always smile and try with his riddles. You even continue to talk to him after, and are interested in who he is outside of work! That's rare. And if he could return that joy you have given him every day, it would be worth it for the possibility of you figuring out his true thoughts.

Unfortunately, while he has a mind for riddles, analytics, and all things mathematical, he has not been as blessed with poetry. So he wants to type this out...if nothing else than to keep you from feeling like you owe him something.

He types and deletes and types and deletes, looks at the clock, drums his fingers on the desk, and then types slowly this time. Reading it over, he nods at what he has written. It's not amazing, but he hopes it will make you feel like there are people in the office that are on your side, maybe even a secret admirer.

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And now you're soaking wet. You just wanted to escape your desk and get a simple sandwich and the sky decided that it was a perfect time to begin a deluge right before you got back to the GCPD building. Why? God hates you, apparently. There's no other explanation that would satisfy your overdramatic mind at this point in time.

Luckily you managed to keep your precious food dry by stuffing it under your coat, but the rest of you is definitely not so lucky. You huff and start towards your desk. Bullock sees you on the way, starts a sentence of some sort, (most likely to quip at your condition), but the glare you send his way shuts him up immediately.

You end up collapsing at your desk and peeling off your outer coat, feeling the air conditioning of the building start to combine with your wet clothes to make a chill seep into your bones. Trying to ignore it but unable to suppress a shiver, you place your food on your desk...wait...is that? It is! Someone left a little typed note to you under the bag.

You pick up the note, giving it a quick glance to see if there was anything to connect it to someone. There are no initials or name...hmmm.

Your eyes read over the words on the page once...twice. And your heart shatters. How could...why would...how could someone be so heartless that they would taunt you today of all days?

There is a group of those rude, awful officers that like to congregate together around the water cooler, gossiping and laughing at anyone who wasn't them. But right now, one of them is talking while looking directly at you, and when he stops he throws his head back in laughter, with the rest following.

Holding back a sob, you crumple the letter in your hand and get out of the room as fast as you can without running. As soon as you are out of their sight, tears start streaming down your face and you run to a nearby empty room. It doesn't even matter what it is, you just care that it's empty and safe and lock the door behind you, collapsing against a wall and trying to catch your breath as you gasp for air.

You hold that position for only about 30 seconds, trying to muffle your sobs so they couldn't be heard by anyone outside, but apparently you weren't quiet enough. A quiet knock sounds on the door.

Tap tap tap

You do your best to school your voice, but it still comes out shaky as you reply "Please find another room."

But the voice that filters through the door is one you recognize well.

"Y-you looked cold, so I brought you an emergency blanket. Oh! And a-also your lunch."

You let out a sob, unable to stifle it. "T-thank you, Ed." And you walk over to the door to unlock it, opening it just a tad so he can't see your state.

But Ed is observant, and even with what little you present to him, he can see you are massively upset. Your eyes are bloodshot, and you are trembling, whether from the cold or from your current emotions, that he can't tell. He tries his best to gather some courage.

"W-would you mind if I sat with you for l-lunch?" He holds up your bag of food and you notice that his own lunch is clasped in his hand behind it.

Quickly, you try to consider if you are ready to fully cry in front of Ed, but his kind, if nervous, smile and his own insistence on joining you made you certain that he wouldn't be too judgemental.

You turn your head to the side to try and hide it a bit more as you step back to open the door. Your arm sweeps over to gesture to where you were sitting. "Be my guest, Mr. Nygma."

This makes him let out a nervous chuckle, but he enters anyway. You close the door behind him and lock it.

"I hope you don't mind, I just don't want anyone to see me...well..."

He nods, "That is perfectly understandable."

You both stand awkwardly for a few moments, but you eventually feel the floor calling to you again, so you nestle against the wall where you previously had collapsed. Ed slowly settles down at a respectable distance from you, his gangly limbs shuffling until he finds a comfortable position.

When he hands you your bag of food, he decides it's better to talk about what happened than sit in silence. "M-may I ask why you are upset?" You glance at him, and your eyes start to fill with tears again. He hurriedly starts to stutter through another sentence, "Oh! B-but if you p-prefer not to talk about it, t-that's ok!"

You shake your head, glancing down at the floor. "I just...I guess people like to take advantage of you when you're down sometimes, Ed."

You sigh, but begin feeling more angry than sad. "I mean, I've been in a bad mood all day, I got rained on when I was just trying to get some food, and then some asshole leaves me this."

You open your hand to reveal the crumpled note to Ed. He keeps his face as neutral as he can, recognizing it. Oh no, you fucked up, Ed! The voice in his head gleefully taunts.

Your sniffle brings him back, and you look down at the note, spreading it out so you can read it out loud.

"While you are not seen by others as a beauty

I cannot keep myself from glancing at your desk.

Your figure is full, and yet one word sticks truly,

I can only describe you as such: Rubenesque."

Ed ponders over the poem, while a bit rudimentary, it was full of his true compliments to you. But your face crumples when you get to the last word, stuttering it out.

Your eyes look to him, "I mean, Ed! How could someone write this?"

You see his face scrunch in confusion. "I admit, I do not quite understand. I see nothing wrong with the note?"

Feeling frustration well inside of you, you gesture with your hands wildly. "Nothing wrong? It's that word, Rubenesque!! It's an insult, I know it, especially with how those assholes were glancing at me as I read it, laughing once I was done."

Ed seems to be more confused now. "I was not aware it was an insult?"

You nod, and remember all of the times you have heard it in the past, "It's always been used by people who want to try and appear to be kind, but truly aren't. They call me Rubenesque in this snide tone, like it's something they can barely stand to spit out of their mouths."

Ed tries to interrupt, but you continue, softer now. "I just don't know Ed. The whole note seems to be mocking me...calling me full figured and not a beauty. Am I really that bad?" He shakes his head while you feel tears starting again, so you look down at the floor.

Now at a whisper, you barely get out the next words. "I just...I don't even want someone to like me anymore. I just want them to leave me alone." With that vulnerable confession, you sob, and bring your hands to your face, trying desperately to cover it. A shiver runs through you again.

After a few beats, you feel warmth around you, and you glance up to see that Ed has moved closer to cover you with the blanket he brought. His long arms stay in place in a hug after he positions it, keeping you close to him. You are a bit taken aback, as the most that Ed has touched anyone in the past was maybe a handshake.

He leans down so you can hear him, his voice more sure, now, even if it is soft. "Do you know about the painter, Rubens?"

You shake your head. "Is that where the term comes from?" He nods. Not feeling charitable, you grab the blanket and bring it closer around you as you grumble out, "Rubens can suck it."

He lets out a giggle at that, and you feel your heart warm at the noise. "I understand that you feel it is an insult...would you mind if I explain what it really means?"

You nod, because even if it is as bad as you make it out to be, at least you can hear his voice as he explains it.

One of his hands strokes the blanket surrounding you, right on top of your arm. "Rubens painted many different subjects, but the descriptor of Rubenesque usually refers to his nude paintings of women. Specifically, women like Venus."

You lift up your head to look at him. "Venus as in the Goddess of Beauty?"

He nods, gently. "Yes, among...other things." His eyes darken for just a moment before returning to his informative rant. "The women he paints are known to be full-figured, yes, but they are beautiful because of that, in my opinion."

You sit as still as you can, barely breathing, wanting to hear every word he says. A long finger comes under your chin and guides your face until you are looking right at him. "I wrote you that note. I think you are the definition of beauty."

And with that, he brings you gently forward, looking in your eyes the whole time. You let him, and lean forward to meet his lips. The kiss you share is sweet and short, but it fills you with a giddiness that makes you feel like a teen experiencing her first kiss again.

You separate smiling at each other, and Ed reaches up to kiss your forehead. "I apologize for upsetting you. I was trying to be a secret admirer."

You chuckle, "Yeah, well, it didn't help that I read the note as uncharitably as I could." You glance up at him, "I'm sorry for crumpling it up in anger."

He shakes his head. "D-don't apologize. I'll write you as m-many bad poems as you want." One of his long arms slowly moves down, and a finger traces your hip over the blanket. "Is this ok?"

You feel a warmth spark through you again as he makes contact, and all you trust yourself to do is nod. He nuzzles into your neck, whispering in your ear.

"I want you to know, right now, so there is no doubt, I love your body. These hips, your plush belly...even your soft arms." You feel his warm breath on your ear, and it makes you shudder. "They all remind me of art, and they make me want to..."

He trails off, and brings his hand away from your hip quickly, as if burned. You miss his touch, already, and confusedly ask, "What? Ed?"

You can't tell anything from his neutral face, but he gets up, suddenly, grabbing your lunches together again. "Let's find a better place for lunch, more comfortable...maybe with a table."

You nod, standing up with him. As you position the blanket around you, Ed wraps an arm around your waist.

"A-and...if you would like...have dinner with me tonight. I'll cook for you and...tell you more of my thoughts."

Your cheeks heat up, and his do as well. "Ed, I..." You think for a moment. "I'd love to have dinner with you."

He grins at you, again-one of his sappy, closed mouth grins-and leads you out of the room in his embrace. The two of you chat and giggle, seeking out a proper place for lunch and ignoring all of the stares you get. If you have each other, the rest of the world doesn't matter.

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