#you just wanted the show to be something it isn't. to focus more on the cool space empire rather than interpersonal relationships
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I am a very vocal hater of the whole "the game is just for the cast you can't criticize it ever!!" mentality, to the extent that even when it's in response to a take I think is awful, it will always bother me more than the original take. After some reflection, I've broken it down to five key reasons why it upsets me so much.
1) The obvious one is that the idea that the show is only being made for the cast is false. If they didn't intend to make a piece of entertainment, they wouldn't have posted it online. A lot of creative works are made with the creators enjoyment as the highest priority. That does not mean that's all it was made for.
2) The way these posts commonly focus on how the cast isn't obligated to do what other people want is a fundamental misunderstanding of what criticism is and why we make it. I assure you the vast majority of people do not think their complaints should be met with the cast personally kneeling before them.
3) It implies that something being made with love automatically makes disliking any element of it wrong. Which is a belief that is impossible to hold without becoming a hypocrite. There is no way in hell you have never disliked a piece that the creator(s) had fun making. I'm writing this post for my personal enjoyment. Have fun with that paradox.
4) There's this weird belief that all complaints are about specific desires that weren't met. There are actually a whole lot of posts about whether the story succeeded in doing what it intended to do, but I guess I can't expect people to read things.
5) This is my big one. Art deserves to be criticized. It's one of if not the most important way of interacting with a work. I don't believe saying actual play is uniquely exempt from critique is respectful of the medium. You are treating it as though it shouldn't be engaged with in the way we engage with all other art and is, therefore, lesser.
#i want it to be clear this is about a wide spread opinion not a specific post or person#also good critique (good in the sense of thoughtful and well structured not necessarily correct) prompts discussion#and those discussions can help you figure out what it is you personally enjoy about the show#it is not inherently a negative#i keep going back and forth on whether to main tag this and if the way i worded it was too pretentious#but yknow what fuck it being annoying is okay actually#critical role
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fairy of shampoo — ryomen sukuna.
“No, I doubt that.” he murmured, his voice dropping further as his eyes trailed over you, taking in every detail of his creation on your body. “I didn’t outdo myself. You did. You made it come alive. Well, you always have.” He reached out, his fingers brushing the edge of the fabric near your shoulder, the touch light yet searing. “This was always meant for you. No one else could’ve worn it like this.” There was a beat of silence, heavy and charged, before he added, “Do you know how hard it was to sit out there and watch everyone look at you like that?” You raised a brow, your smile teasing now. “Jealous already, ‘kuna?”
GENRE: alternate universe - fashion world au!;
WARNING/S: afab! reader, love at first sight, co-workers to lovers, romance, nsfw, rated 18 and above, explicit content, kissing, making out, rough sex, fingering, p to v sex, backstage/greenroom sex, orgasm, humor, pet names (angel, sweetie, etc), devotion, possessiveness, jealousy, characters speaking in sexual innuendo, mention of sexual euphemisms, depiction of explicit sexual content, fashion designer! ryomen sukuna, super model! reader;
WORD COUNT: 5k words.
NOTE: i wrote the first part of this while on instagram live and continued to write, but then i forgot to do a live about this again and passed out from more cold medicine. the cold weather isn't really helping my case either. but im feeling much better now!!! though, i kept changing titles too, cause im indecisive. but of course txt saves the day with fairy of shampoo.
i adore this song a lot. also, if you are curious, this was something i was imagining for a while as an au to concubine reader and sukuna. like in another live, he would be a former underground fighter who fell for model reader. in any case, i hope you enjoy it. i love you all!!! see you on the 10th!!!
masterlist
if you want to, tip! <3
HE DOESN’T THINK HE’S EVER SEEN SOMEONE LIKE YOU BEFORE. He felt his breath hitch, the steady rhythm in his chest faltering as if the very air had thickened, demanding more effort to draw in.
The crowd was roaring around him, but the noise seemed muted, far away, like a distant wave crashing on an unseen shore. All he could focus on was you, the commanding force you carried with every step.
It wasn’t just the way you moved — it was the raw, magnetic energy emanating from you. Each step struck the floor like a declaration, a drumbeat echoing through the cavern of his mind, drowning out every other thought.
He tried to remind himself to blink, to exhale, to ground himself in something other than the overwhelming pull of you, but it was no use. When it comes to you, there was no winning.
When you reached the center of the stage, you turned slowly, your gaze sweeping over the audience like a stormfront rolling in. Then, for the briefest moment, your eyes landed on his.
He felt like a man struck by lightning. The fire in your gaze seared through him, sharp and unyielding, leaving no room for the walls he’d so carefully built. He was laid bare, every defense stripped away, and for the first time in his life, he didn’t mind.
As quickly as it had come, the moment passed, and you turned your attention elsewhere, leaving him in the wreckage of his composure. His heart was racing, pounding against his ribs like it was trying to escape, and he could only wonder how someone could hold so much power without even trying.
Control? Composure? He realized now how fragile those concepts truly were.
Everything about you screamed majesty. It was obvious you knew what you were doing and it was obvious that you were doing it with so much passion, so much pride, so much expertise. If it was not clear now, it would be obvious to all now that it was you who ran this world.
And you had no problem trying to show that to everyone. Everything about what you were doing could only exude wonder people cannot explain. Especially when you walked. Ryomen Sukuna knew this from the first time he saw you walk.
He could somehow remember the first time he’s seen you walk on a runway. He wasn’t yet the person he was at this time. Ryomen Sukuna remembers that he was a rough man, a brutish man. Someone whose hands were at one point made for destruction more than they were for anything relating to creation.
These hands were born for nothing good at all. These were born from nothing and then for violence. For most of his life, he was sure that they were made for nothing else but pouring blood on the concrete in rough fistful bouts than they were for wanting to understand the language of fabrics and colors.
Sukuna was all too certain that he wasn’t someone who he himself thought was even worthy of being in your presence then. You wouldn’t have liked the man he was then.
If he didn’t, then you would certainly not like him too. But he liked to think that this was the moment his life changed. He could remember it so very clearly, that moment.
He could recall it all, if you asked. Every little detail. His bloody hands fumbled with the remote control, the echo of his fingers pressing the buttons whiplashed as he tried to find something worth watching. Nothing was worth watching, nothing was worth looking forward to. One after another, the button pressed only to lead to disappointment.
Then, he stopped.
You were the first thing he saw. He blinked as he found himself staring at this moment. It was like you owned the runway. Your long silver stilettos click and clack across the steps,the fine texture of the shimmering silver dress blossomed like moonlight right in front of him. It was like an epiphany when he watched you come towards him through the screen.
Your bright blossoming eyes narrowed sharply as you stopped at the center, posing masterfully for the audiences and then for the cameras. He could feel the hairs on his body stand up as he walked closer to the screen. Almost a second after, you had smiled at the crowd.
For a moment, Ryomen Sukuna had thought that this belonged to him. Your smile, your gaze, your pose. He had felt like you had been longing for him. Calling for him to come and join you. Beckoning him closer by your side. Almost as though you were commanding him like the goddess of the moon you were in that moment.
He wished that moment had lasted much longer. But as you finished your moment, it was your turn to walk away. Disappointment slowly seeped into him as he watched you go, the train of your metallic silver gown flowing behind you like moonshine withdrawing from the slithering darkness.
You were so beautiful, so bright and gorgeous. For a moment, he didn’t even think you were real. He couldn’t believe that such a being like you could ever exist. He couldn’t believe that such a being like you could ever bless him with your wonders, even for just a moment. From that moment, he was awestruck.
But it’s not like Ryomen Sukuna could not help himself in wanting you. You were life itself for him from that moment. And he couldn’t help but live in the world you made. He could not help but want to know you. To know more of your wonder. To be there in the room where it happened, watching you command the world with each and every step only you could make.
One could call him insane for believing that this was the moment that changed his life. That you, who he had never known, would ever change his life. Yet, it was true. You had made him your most adoring servant.
And he had made you his master, his lifelong muse. He knew that he didn’t have any skills to dress you, his goddess, just yet. But if there was something Ryomen Sukuna knew, it was that everything can be learned. And you would guide him how.
He could recall how he stood up from his couch that night and washed his bloody hands on his sink. He cleaned every bit of it. By the time he finished, he found his hands clean enough. And with that he felt satisfied.
He dried his hands with the dry cloth, watching the bloody water drain down the sink. He knew that he had to have clean hands, for you. He can’t dress you if his hands are dirty with blood. He won’t soil you. No, he won’t soil his goddess.
The click of the cameras brought him back to reality. You stopped at the center of the runway and posed. You look at the side dramatically, your jaw sharp against the glow of stage lights. You had fun as you brushed the loose hair back on your ear, trying to showcase the fine sapphire earrings encrusted with diamonds.
People were in awe as you stood there, the leather covered fingers tracing your beautiful face as you showcased the fine red silky flow of the shimmering strapped dress bejeweled in fine rubies and sapphires and its majestic slit at the hem forcing your fine leg forward, the heel of your shoe just as magnificent with its intricate design.
Everything about it was a perfect fit — as it should. Ryomen Sukuna could only think to himself about how proud he was that it looked good on you. Red was certainly made to be your color. The color he had so loved, the color he knew you had come to love just as much when you looked into his scarlet eyes too.
Sukuna’s smirk deepened as he watched the crowd, their collective awe painting a smug satisfaction across his sharp features. They didn’t just see a veteran model on the catwalk; they saw his vision, his devotion, his muse brought to life. They saw life form before their eyes.
It wasn’t just about the clothing, no. It was about you, his precious muse. You carried his work like no one else could, not just wearing the piece but embodying it, giving it a presence that no other model could match. Every step you took whispered of elegance, screamed of confidence, and radiated the unshakable power he had designed into every stitch.
He leaned further back in his chair, one leg draped casually over the other, his fingers tapping a slow rhythm against his arm. Sukuna’s mind flickered back to the nights spent creating the masterpiece you now wore. The hours he poured over sketches, fabrics, and details, all with you in mind. The fire in his chest when inspiration struck, always tied to the thought of you — your silhouette, your essence, your wonder.
It was a dangerous thing, he knew, to let himself feel this much for anyone. It was even more grievous when one thinks about how crazy he is, obsessed with you. But as he watched you claim the stage as though you owned it, as though you owned him, he couldn’t bring himself to care. If anyone deserved his best, it was you.
And now, seeing you carry with pride what he had envisioned, the culmination of his work, his smirk twisted into something softer, something almost reverent. His scarlet eyes could only glint with a mixture of pride and possessiveness.
Because this wasn’t just a fashion show, not to him. This was his world laid bare, his unspoken devotion stitched into fabric, and you, his muse, standing at the center of it all. And he could care less about anything else. This was what mattered. Nothing more will satisfy him than you.
Let them look. He thought, his scarlet gaze darkening further. Let them be captivated.
But they should know this — the vision, the brilliance, the art?
It was his. And so were you.
And you just as well knew it too.
He was yours too, after all.
The moment the show ended, Ryomen Sukuna slipped through the mass of the crowd, his stride purposeful as he made his way backstage. The buzz of the event, the voices, and the clinking of glasses faded into white noise as he navigated through assistants, models, and photographers.
They all parted instinctively for him — whether out of respect, fear, or both, he didn’t care. Why should he care at this moment? He had something else much more important in mind, after all. Nothing can compare to that, to you.
He found you standing alone, the chaos of the backstage swirling around but never touching you. You were a picture of composed beauty, your magnificent features illuminated by the soft backstage lighting. The masterpiece you wore still clung to you, the fabric shimmering as though it held its own light.
You didn’t notice him at first, too engrossed in adjusting one of the intricate details of the outfit, but the shift in the air told you he was there. You looked up, your tender gaze locking with his, and in that instant, the world seemed to narrow in this cage you had always made for just the two of you. Your lips perk up into a small sly smile.
Sukuna let the door swing shut behind him, the sound muffled by the hum of the outside world. The room felt smaller now, the space between you crackling with an intensity that mirrored the one you’d commanded onstage. He leaned against the wall, crossing his arms casually, though the smirk on his lips betrayed the hunger in his gaze.
“Stunning, as always.” he said, his voice low and deliberate. “But then, you already know that.”
You tilted your head, meeting his smirk with a soft smile of your own. “The design does most of the work. You outdid yourself, Sukuna.”
His smirk deepened as he pushed off the wall, closing the distance between you in a few slow steps. You shake your head at him, your smile getting bigger too. He was about to have another one of his antics, for certain.
“No, I doubt that.” he murmured, his voice dropping further as his eyes trailed over you, taking in every detail of his creation on your body. “I didn’t outdo myself. You did. You made it come alive. Well, you always have.”
He reached out, his fingers brushing the edge of the fabric near your shoulder, the touch light yet searing. “This was always meant for you. No one else could’ve worn it like this.”
There was a beat of silence, heavy and charged, before he added, “Do you know how hard it was to sit out there and watch everyone look at you like that?”
You raised a brow, your smile teasing now. “Jealous already, ‘kuna?”
His chuckle was dark and low, the kind that sent shivers down your spine. “Jealous? Maybe. But more than that…” His hand slid from the fabric to your jaw, tilting your beautiful face up to his.
His scarlet eyes burned with something raw, something possessive. “I just wanted to remind you to come by and tell you, like I always do. All of this, the applause, the stares, the admiration... none of it matters. Because at the end of the day, you’re mine. No one else can have you but me.”
The air between you thickened, you could feel your pulse quickening as his blunt words hung in the space. His thumb brushed against your tender cheek, and soon enough, his face echoed a small smirk against his beautiful lips, one that you were certain was softer this time. But of course, you were just as certain that it wasn’t less intense.
“And don’t you dare forget it, hm?” he added, his voice barely above a whisper, before leaning in to close the distance between you.
“I will never forget.” You hummed back to him, just as sweetly. Just as venomous. “Just as you never forget that I am the only muse for you, hm?”
He laughs, the tone rich and eager as his eyes narrowed at you. “And when have I ever forgotten that, hm? Ten years of my life given to you so far, and you’ll have the rest of it too. You don’t have to worry about me leaving you.”
You couldn’t help but laugh aloud this time. “Hm, then you are my prisoner now.”
“I always have been….. I am always willing to be, sweetie.”
He grabbed your hand, his grip firm but not forceful, and guided you through the bustling backstage chaos. You followed without question, the dress flowing into the brush of wind as you made your place elsewhere. You could feel your heart racing as he weaved through the narrow halls with singular focus, while still holding onto you, no matter what.
He didn’t stop until the two of you reached your green room. With a swift glance to ensure no one had followed, he shut the door behind you, the lock clicking into place with a finality that made your breath hitch. You looked at him and then he looked back at you, almost as though time had frozen between the two of you.
The room was quieter here, dimly lit and far removed from the noise of the show. The faint hum of the loud music leaked through the walls, but it only added to the charged atmosphere between you. Ryomen Sukuna took a breath before starting to get closer to you, his intense scarlet gaze pinning you to the spot.
It was as though your throat had all but closed. You felt yourself standing there as he made his way to you and then stopped. The space between the two of you had all but evaporated into nothing. You pursed your lip into a line and then shook your head into a small smile.
His scarlet glint lingered, locking with your gaze, a mischievous gleam dancing within his eyes. Slowly, he lowered himself before you, hands deftly reaching for the ties that bound you to your heels. The heels he had designed just for you.
You knew you could do it yourself. But he refused to let you do it, even when he has to get to you later on, he would get some sort of way when he didn’t do it for you. For so long now, you have never been able to take your shoes off by yourself. He wouldn’t allow it.
After all, it was a ritual he insisted on. It was something he had done even when he was first designing clothes tailored just for you. And you had long stopped having any qualms about it.
Every time he did this for you, whether after the runaway or some time else, there was always this calm. It was always a quiet moment of devotion woven into the fabric of your bond each and every single time.
An angel like you shouldn’t have to stoop to something like this, sweetie. He had said back then, his lips curving into a playful smile as his attention remained on your feet. Only devils like me should kneel, taking on tasks as lowly as this.
Now, as his fingers worked to free you from the delicate binds, he couldn’t help but hum. You could feel his mumblings be rough and edged with something untamed and all at once, the warmest of spring days and tenderest of breaths. You obediently look upon him as he carefully removes them from your feet.
“You’ve been driving me insane all night, sweetie.” He set your shoes aside, tucking them where they wouldn’t catch another soul’s attention. His scarlet eyes roved up to yours, filled with longing. “Everything you do, even now... You just woo me to no end.”
You shivered under his gaze, feeling the intensity of his words wrap around you like a warm, intoxicating haze. His hands, calloused yet deliberate, brushed against your ankles as he adjusted your footing, ensuring you could stand without strain. Even in such a simple gesture, his care for you felt all-consuming.
“You have always imprisoned me, you know that? But tonight…..you really have mastered it.” he snickers, his tone dipping lower, velvet and gravel in equal measure.
“I have.” You muttered back at him, smiling at him as sweetly as you could. “Don’t you like it that way? Your muse gives you everything, artist of mine.”
“I did. I always do. I loved tonight most, I should say.” His lips curled into a smirk that sent a rush of heat through your chest. “Every glance, every move—it’s like you’ve cast some wicked spell. And here I am, completely at your mercy.”
He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin, his hands still lingering just a moment too long on your legs. The proximity was enough to make your heart race, yet he stopped short of closing the distance, his teasing nature keeping you on edge.
“And the worst part?” he added, his voice softening but losing none of its weight. “I don’t even mind. Your devil craves more—he begs, over and over, to be your fool willingly.”
He stood, fluid and graceful, the motion commanding yet intimate. Your eyes blossomed as you looked towards him, unable to move. You felt as though you were being consumed by him. You felt like you were consumed by his wonder, by his soul, by his everything. Like you always have been. Like you always want to be.
His fine lips hovered near yours, daring but unyielding, as though he relished the tension he had so masterfully wrought. Every second seemed to stretch into eternity, leaving you breathless, waiting, wanting—until finally, he whispered back to you.
“Tell me, my angel... How long are you going to keep me like this?”
Before you could respond, his calloused hands were on you. One sliding around your waist, the other cradling the back of your neck. His precious lips crashed against yours with a hunger that left no room for hesitation. It was a kiss that demanded everything from you, one that poured out all the frustration, admiration, and possessiveness he’d kept in check throughout the show.
You melted into him, your tender hands finding their way to his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his coat and then his shirt as you kissed him back with equal fervor. His touch was everywhere, his hands tracing the curve of your waist, the line of your back, pulling you closer as though he couldn’t stand even an inch of distance between you.
The kiss deepened, his lips parting yours as his tongue sought entry, exploring, claiming. You gasped against him, and he took the opportunity to tilt your head back, giving him better access as he pressed you against the cool wall, pinning you against it.
“You were perfect, sweetie. You truly are.” he muttered against your lips, his voice a gravelly whisper. “You have no idea how you burn me alive.”
Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling slightly, earning a low growl from him that sent heat pooling in your stomach. “I think I’m starting to get the whole of it, ‘Kuna.” you teased breathlessly, your words cut off as he captured your lips again. “But….I wouldn’t mind knowing more about it.”
The air around you was thick with the scent of him, a mix of that one of a kind expensive mint cologne and a little bit of cinammon, something he had become fond of because of you. Everything about it was unmistakably your Sukuna.
The world outside the green room ceased to exist — no crowd, no cameras, no responsibilities to the world. It was just the two of you, tangled together, consumed by the fire you’d stoked in each other. Consumed by the very word that both of you couldn’t fathom saying to the other.
When he finally pulled back, the string of your connection bellowed you in parting. You looked at him intently as you gathered yourself. Both of you were breathless, wanton in your desire. You found your lips swollen and your heart pounding to no end.
Soon enough, he drew you closer and let his forehead rested against yours intently, his hands still firmly on your waist, holding you as if he feared you’d vanish.
“You’re so ardently beautiful, angel of mine.” he said again, his voice a husky promise. “Always. My only muse.”
“And you’re just as cunningly sweet, devil.” you replied, your voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions coursing through you. “You’re the only one who can be my artist.”
“You’re quite possessive tonight, aren’t you?”
You hummed back to him. “Don’t you already know that I am vile when it comes to you and smiling at other women?”
His smirk returned at your words. You rolled your eyes at his smirk, but your own eyes were too playful to suggest anything else. Your lover’s smirk turned softer soon, as your hands rested around his neck. But it was obvious that it was just as dangerous. Soon enough, he leaned in to kiss you again, passionately slower this time, as if savoring the moment.
The green room felt impossibly small, the charged energy between you crackling like a live wire. Sukuna’s hands roamed your body with a confidence that left you breathless, his touch igniting a fire in your veins. His lips trailed from your mouth to your jaw, down the curve of your neck, leaving a heated path in their wake.
Your back pressed against the cool wall, a small breath releasing from your lips. You could feel the difference when you pressed against his body, though. Now more so when he had all but taken everything off, naked as the day he was born. It was truly a stark contrast to the endless heat and pleasure just radiating from his body and onto yours.
He held you firmly, his strong calloused hands gripping your voluptuous hips closer as though grounding himself in you. His hot breath was heavy against your skin, his sharp teeth grazing the sensitive spots on your skin that made you shiver and arch into him.
"’kuna, you….." you whispered, your voice trembling with both anticipation and need.
He chuckled darkly, his lips curling into a wicked smirk against your neck. "Say it louder for me." he demanded, his voice dripping with authority and raw desire. “I love hearing from you.”
You barely had time to respond before his hand slid lower onto your body, finding the silky fabric in his way. His brow raised for a moment. He had put himself in a conundrum, at times. He likes dressing you in everything he thinks of and creates. And yet, he just as much loves to see it off your body.
With a swift, deliberate motion, he tugged at the silky material, his eager movements ever so impatient yet precise. When your lover found your bare skin, you couldn’t help but gasp, throwing your head to the side slightly, clutching onto his shoulders for support.
It didn’t take long before your lover found himself pressing himself closer, the thick heat of his touch teasing at the warmth of your entrance. He paused, his warm scarlet eyes locking with your own, searching for permission in your gaze. Even when he leads, he knows an angel will always be the one on top, not him, not the devil.
You nodded, your bruised lips parting as you whispered back at him. "Please. Please, my devil."
From there, you could only find that the tension had all but snapped. He pushed into you with a slow, deliberate force that had you throwing your head back against the wall. A loud pleasured cry escaped your eager lips as his throbbing tip pressed against your walls with such a mean, unrelenting precision.
You could only ever feel so full with the way he was easily stretching you in a way that was both overwhelming and intoxicating. He always knew too well how your body would react to him, wantonly eager to capture him in this desire. Just as much as it was willing to follow him, like he was its very own pied piper.
His rough and yet gentle hands gripped your hips tighter against him, steadying you as he slid into you deeper, filling everything inside to the brim. Your lover’s breath could only feel ragged, his jaw clenched and tightened as he fought for control, his sweating forehead resting against your own, now too drenched in desire.
"You take me so perfectly, don’t you?" he growled, his voice low and filled with unrestrained hunger. “Too good.”
Your fingers found their way to the small of his back, nails painted crimson now stained deeper as they dragged across his skin, leaving raw, bleeding trails in their wake. You clung to him desperately, adjusting to the fullness of him, each deliberate motion sending shockwaves through your body.
The initial sting of his girth soon melted into a searing pleasure, a molten heat pooling deep within you as he buried himself further, again and again. Each thrust forward in this pandemonium of pleasure was deliberate, unyielding, designed to elicit the loudest, most unrestrained cries from your lips.
Even against the sound of music outside these walls, your pleasure was even louder. Not that Sukuna minded. If anything, that had just made him more eager for more. The air in the green room grew dense and feverish, charged with the mingling of your ragged breaths, the rhythmic slap of skin meeting skin, and the guttural curses that spilled freely from Sukuna’s lips.
He shifted slightly, tilting your hips with a nearly brutal precision, each movement driving him deeper and deeper into you. It was raw, primal—his intensity teetering on the edge of brutish animalism. The cool wall at your back pressed harder against you as he pushed closer, his heat overwhelming, searing into your already burning skin.
From then on, your lover found himself thrusting against you in a new angle. Almost instantly, you found yourself unraveled entirely, tearing cries of unrestrained ecstasy from your lips over and over again, layered in different pitches one after another. Your body arched instinctively, meeting him halfway, desperate for more as he kept you teetering on the precipice of bliss.
Again and again, your lover gleefully pushed you closer to that feverish edge, his swift movements unrelenting, even as his own breaths grew rough and uneven, the sound of his hunger matching the rhythm of your shared passion. You could feel your slick sliding down your crevices, as much as drool was falling from your lips.
“You feel that?” he growled, his voice low and ragged, thick with possession. His lips found the curve of your neck, teeth grazing your skin before biting down lightly, claiming you in a way that sent shivers down your spine.
You groan against him. “You take me so perfectly… even now, in this dress I made just for you. Look at how it clings to you, ruined. It’s just like I wanted.”
The shining silk fabric of the dress bunched at your hips, a masterpiece he had poured his craft into, now crumpled and wrinkled between your sweating, mangled bodies. It was too intoxicating, the way that the waves of wrinkles formed on the fabric as you moved against him just as intensely. It was such an art. It was an art that only belonged to you and him. No one else can ever see such marvels like this.
The bright satin straps had all but slipped from your shoulders, exposing more of your gleamingly red and marred skin to his roaming calloused hands and greedy scarlet eyes. His long fingers gripped the delicate material, rough and unapologetic, as though the dress itself was just another part of you to dominate.
Your response was but a strangled moan as his brutishly eager hips snapped forward, the force of him driving you harder against the wall. The burn of skin against skin, the body against the cool wall — it has overtaken you whole in many fits of groans in pitiful harmonies of pleasure.
The cool surface contrasted with the molten heat coursing through your body, heightening every sensation. Your nails could only continue to claw at his shoulders, leaving streaks upon streaks of your touch across his skin, marring him, as you fought to keep yourself grounded. He could only smirk at that.
“Look at you now.” he murmured darkly, his scarlet gaze piercing into yours. “Still wearing this dress like a goddess, and yet, you’re falling apart for me. Do you have any idea how maddening you are? How irresistible?”
His hand slid between your bodies, teasingly brushing over the intricate folds of the fabric as his fingers found the heat pooling between your thighs. “Tell me, angel… do you want me to ruin this dress too? To ruin you completely, so no one else can ever have you?”
“Yes, my devil.Yes.” you gasped, your voice shaky but unyielding, the word spilling from your lips like a prayer. “Only you.”
His chuckle was dark, wicked, and utterly consuming, the sound of a man reveling in his victory. “Just how I love it, then.” he whispered, leaning in to brush his lips against your ear, his breath warm and teasing. “Because I’ve made you mine in every way that matters.”
His pace quickened, the power of his thrusts leaving you breathless, and yet, the dress still clung to your frame, a tattered proof to his desire and your surrender. Every stitch, every detail he had meticulously crafted was now a witness to the unrelenting passion that coursed between you, its perfection crumbling just as you were under his touch.
“You’re so beautiful like this.” he rasped, his voice thick with emotion, even as it trembled with raw hunger. “My perfect angel. My creation. Mine.”
The dress clung to you, its delicate fabric now rumpled and damp with sweat, a stark contrast to the pristine masterpiece it had been when he first slipped it into your body hours earlier. His hands roamed freely now, rough fingertips tracing the paths of the seams he had stitched with care.
Each touch of his ignited sparks across your glowing skin, a searing reminder that every detail of the garment was crafted with you burning the thoughts he had mind—and now, every thread bore witness to how completely he had unraveled you bear to him.
“Do you feel how perfect this is?” he murmured, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as his voice dropped to a rasp. His hips surged forward again, drawing a gasp from your lips that echoed in the small room.
“Every part of this, of you, was meant to drive me insane. The heavens planned for that, don’t you think? An angel to save the devil from sin.” He lets out a small choked chuckle, feeling sweat permeate from his neck.
His words were almost worshipful, though they carried the dark edge of his hunger. One hand slid down, gripping your thigh through the bouncing fabric, pulling you impossibly closer as he pressed harder against you. His other hand tugged at the hem of your dress, teasingly smoothing it back down only to push it higher again.
“You don’t even know, do you?” he continued, his scarlet eyes locked onto yours, holding you captive as easily as his body did. “How beautiful you look like this—wrapped in something I made, only to have me ruin it.”
His lips curled into a smirk, wicked and proud, before he leaned in, capturing your mouth in a searing kiss. The kiss was all-consuming, his teeth grazing your lower lip, his tongue invading with the same urgency as his movements against you. When he pulled back, leaving you gasping for air, his forehead pressed against yours, his breath mingling with yours.
“Say it again. I wanna hear it again.” he demanded, his voice thick with need. “Tell me you’re mine.”
You could barely form the words, but they tumbled from your lips without hesitation. “I’m yours. Only yours.”
His eyes darkened further, a victorious glint sparking within them. “That’s right.” he growled, his pace quickening, his grip on you tightening as he drove you higher and higher. “You’ll always be mine, angel. No one else will ever have you like this. No one else will ever love you like I do.”
The intensity of his words sent you over the edge, your beautiful cries mingling with his animalistic groans as he followed you into an oblivion together. The air around you was heavy, thick with the scent of desire and the echoes of your shared release.
For a moment, neither of you moved from the bliss of the high. The only sound that mattered to the two of you was the ragged cadence of your breaths. His hands, once rough and relentless, now moved with never ending tenderness, smoothing the crumpled fabric of your silk dress as if trying to restore its dignity.
As if trying to hide the ruin and depravity that he feels only belongs to you and him. No one else can see it, no one else can know about his depravity. Only you, only you were the spectacle of any wrinkle in his composure. Your lover smiles at you. His lips brushed your forehead, a soft contrast to the ferocity of moments before.
“You’re perfect, as always.” he whispered, his voice low but steady, carrying a rare, vulnerable warmth. “In every way.”
You couldn’t help but smile at him. “So are you.”
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x y/n#ryomen sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna x you#sukuna ryomen x reader#sukuna ryomen x you#ryoumen sukuna x reader#sukuna x reader#sukuna x you#sukuna x y/n#sukuna smut#ryomen sukuna smut#jjk smut#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen sukuna#sukuna#ryomen sukuna#sukuna ryomen#jjk sukuna#kayu writes ! ! !
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*taps mic* "Ahem... jerking Art off and making him swallow his own cum"
The crowd boos. "That's disgusting!" One yells. "He'd never do that!" Another shouts. Then, everyone gasps and turns around as someone in the back stands and speaks up. "Yes, he would." Says no other than Arthur Clive Donaldson himself.
Alternatively.... cumming in you and then eating you out...
And the crowd goes... home!
🚬
Sighhhh <3
But yeah <3 Especially thinking very hard about jerking off sweet little 2006 Art. Perhaps even comforting him in your hotel room after he's lost the junior US Open final </3
He wants to feel desired, like he's won something. So he feels vindicated when you're clinging to his side, all starry eyed and happy to be in his presence. Patrick is across the room talking to Tashi, showing off his trophy with that dazzling, perfect, smarmy, frustrating smile of his. So he tries to focus on you, as you tell him about how you also won in the mixed doubles tournament, and you saw his final that morning and you thought he played really well.
It doesn't take much convincing to get him to your hotel room— he didn't really want to stay at the afterparty anyway, feeling like Anna Mueller with his stupid little plate engraved— Art Donaldson, runner up. He feels better on your bed, with your tongue down his throat, moaning into your mouth as you strip him out of the fancy outfit his grandma had bought him, expecting a win. A nice white button down, black slacks, his grandad's cufflinks. Even a goddamn tie.
"You're so hot," you murmur against his lips, once he's down to his boxers and you can feel him hard, tenting the fabric. "Can I touch you?"
And, fuck, on a night like this, who is he to refuse?
Your hands are so so soft around him, slick from spit so he can glide in your palm. Slow, practiced. You kiss him so sweetly as you jerk him off, tongue brushing his, licking into his mouth. You can taste the soda he had at the party, the cigarette he'd puffed on while you waited for your shuttle back to the hotel.
"Jesus that's—" He trails off, hips bucking up into your fist, seeking more. But you set the pace, and you want this to be slow. So you just smile, nod and kiss his jaw. You twist your fist a bit and make him groan, so his head falls back and you can trail your hot kisses down his throat. "God, you're killing me."
You relish in having him like this— panting and falling apart in your hand, literally. Art Donaldson— golden boy on the court. You toy with him— slowing down when his moans get too fast, when you feel his balls drawing up and his cock pulsing... speeding up when you want to feel his breath hot, panting against your throat, his kisses insistent.
He doesn't even have time to warn you before he's spilling into your hand. Hot, thick ropes that drip between your fingers. He groans and buries his face in your shoulder, embarrassed by his inability to last during a simple handjob.
"Sorry, that's... sorry," He stammers, his cheeks pretty pink. His cock flags, just a bit between his thighs, and you know this isn't the first time you'll make him cum that night. Not even close.
You kiss his cheek once, then bring your fingers up to his lips. He hesitates, just a moment, before his tongue peeks out, lapping at his spend on your fingers. His nose wrinkles, just a bit at the unfamiliar taste, but he obeys, until there's no trace of him left on your palm other than his spit.
You kiss his lips and taste his cum on his tongue. It doesn't take long for him to get hard again.
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Blitzø is actually really good at Art
From an Art Educator Perspective
Okay so I saw some posts on Blitzø actually really enjoying art and that being his passion other than horses. I don't know if in the fandom we have had this consensus or if this is a hot take on my part, but Blitzø is actually really good at drawing.
You may ask why I know this and why I am so confident?
My credibility: I literally specialize in it.
I am a professional artist. I am a High School Art Teacher, who got their degree in art education and attended a well acclaimed art school.
(Self-taught artists are extremely valid and you do not need to go to art school to be an "actual artist". I am bringing up my background to show that I have a lot of knowledge of the development of fine motor skills and the ranges of art abilities and how to further improve them.)
As an educator, if Blitzø was a student and I saw Blitzø's drawings/doodles I would automatically recognize that he was actually advanced in abilities. Based on looking at his drawings I can tell if he were to actually take his time and focus on something he could create really beautifully detailed/rendered artwork.
You may ask how I know this??? I'm glad you asked.
THE AMOUNT OF LINE QUALITY THAT IS DEMONSTRATED IN BLITZØ'S DRAWINGS IS INSANE.
✨Art Lesson time✨
Okay so everyone learning to draw goes through the necessary stages of development
I'm just going to give humans as an example because obviously this is a fictional demon we are talking about.
Generally everyone goes through these stages as they grow and work on learning to draw. (Prodigies are extremely rare and I've only seen one once)
Art skills are like a sport. You need to train in order to develop fine motor abilities and control in your hands. The more you draw and do art the more you gain control of your muscles. It takes a lot of time and years of work to improve.
When a person's fine motor skills aren't as developed their lines tend to be shaky and they have less control. The more a person draws the better their line control becomes.
(Think of when you were little and you were first learning how to write)
The way I can tell how advanced Blitzø is, is through his line quality.
Now what is Line Quality?
This is a screenshot from this wonderful article
So in Blitzø's artwork he very much illustrates good Line control, force, thickness, and fluidity.
Okay first of all I want to Mention
THAT BLITZØ IS DRAWING IN PEN. You can tell this because different parts of the Calendar are crossed out with his scribbles. Also anybody with a calendar knows you have to write with a pen.
LOOK AT HOW CLEAN, FLUID AND CONFIDENT THESE LINES ARE DESPITE THAT HE IS DRAWING IN PEN!???
My assumption is that Blitzø is not using a reference for these drawings. You could make the argument that he has photos for M&M, Loona, and Stolas; however, he definitely does not have a photo of Striker.
I want to mention how dynamic of a pose he is drawing people in. He isn't avoiding hands at all. All of the hands are relatively accurate (Strikers especially).
In these drawings you see variation in line weight meaning parts of his lines are thicker to thinner. So Blitzø is purposely pressing harder and lighter to show variation and depth. His lines are very clean. I don't see repetitive Stokes and lines for the shapes. He is really confident with his mark making and you can tell because his lines aren't shaky at all.
By looking at his line quality and how clean it is you can tell he drew it quickly.
Not to mention he actually has a huge range of items he can draw confidently including and not limited to horses, weapons, leashes, cars, demons, and of course genitalia.
Blitzø isn't what you call a one trick pony 🐴 when it comes to what he can draw.
You can see this skill demonstrated in his other doodles.
You can even see this ability demonstrated in his drawings on the whiteboard
Okay anybody who has drawn on a whiteboard knows that they are difficult to draw on.
Whiteboards smear and are very streaky. In this photo you can tell where Blitzø made a mistake or changed information. Notice that none of his drawings have any smears. That means he did these drawings in literally one take.
I also want to mention his drawings in spring breakers. He is speed drawing directions and illustrating a plan perfectly to his employees.
HE IS LITERALLY RAPID FIRE SPEED DRAWING HERE
His drawing of Veroskika which he DREW FROM MEMORY.
Demonstrates the following:
Line control, Line Confidence, Line Fluidity, Variation in Line weight, and still has relatively correct proportions!?
Basically shut up MOXIE?!!! He did a good job!
Why have we not seen more detailed Blitzø artwork?
Okay so I as we know in the show Blitzø puts his doodles everywhere. So if he is good at Art why isn't he showing his artwork he spent a long time on????
The answer: he's insecure
Showing someone your art is a very vulnerable action. This is especially true if you spent a long time on it.
If someone doesn't like or makes fun of your doodle you can brush it off and be like well it's only a sketch and I did it in under 5 min.
It's a lot easier to show someone a silly little horse drawing you did than something you poured your heart and soul into.
We already are aware that Blitzø is insecure and has self-esteem issues. He literally covers his face in the photos of himself throughout his apartment. He is a very guarded individual. Of course he wouldn't show people the art he spent hours on. What if people reject them? They judge him for spending that much time? What if they see how much he actually loves them?
Blitzø feels like the kind of person who would crumple up or destroy his art that he spends long amounts of time on. It's a way of self-sabotaging yourself and further self-loathing.
Now do I think he has these hours long art pieces/drawings????
ABSOLUTELY
My guess is that Blitzø most likely has a hidden sketchbook. Artists tend to draw their loved ones and especially their children and partners.
There is no doubt in my mind that Blitzø hasn't been doing long observational drawings of Stola's especially when he is sleeping.
He has most likely been drawing Loona all the time. Why do you think he takes all the photos? Those are his references. He has probably been drawing detailed artwork of his loved ones this whole time (and of course horses too lol).
In conclusion
Blitzø actually can draw really well because his doodles demonstrate high levels of skill in line quality.
Going forward I would really appreciate if someone actually finds Blitzø's sketchbook or portfolio of his artwork he spent large amounts of time on. It would be really cute. It would be adorable if Loona or Stolas found them.
Blitzø could gain more confidence and put is artwork he really cares about on display 🥺
I also just want Moxie to find out and eat his words. (Guys I swear I don't hate Moxie 😂)
Thank you for joining me here today on my Ted talk on how I think Blitzø is actually a talented artist. I'm just an art teacher who has problems with how much helluva boss lives in rent free in my head.
#helluva boss#blitzø#helluva blitzo#stolas#helluva theory#stolitz#blitzo is an artist you cannot tell me im wrong#blitzo doodles#helluva boss lives rent free in my head#art teacher analysis#Could you argue that they are good drawings because the artists who made the show know how to draw? yes. but this is a way more fun idea#YOUR GOING TO LOOK AT ME AND TELL ME IM WRONG??!!
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Dropping Byler Evidence Every Day Until Season 5
Day 3 - Mike's incriminating dilemma
I think one of the most obvious byler proofs to me that barely gets any notice or recognition that it is very convincing, is the fact that Mike seems totally unwilling to talk to Will about his problems with El. Whenever Will is spoken to about the issues they have, it's very noticeable to the audience that Mike talks about it in very general terms, making sure he doesn't end up spilling what they spoke about.
This is simply because it is incriminating.
It's also the reason why he doesn't tell Will he called him multiple times even though he easily could! It would solve a lot between the two of them if he had admitted he called him (which we got confirmation about from Dustin). However, he would rather not, and would rather sacrifice himself in a sense than have Will know how much he called, turning the focus away from himself.
So again, why wouldn't Mike just tell Will about what happened? He knows that it might help him, since he's definitely told a friend about his relationship problems before (Lucas). However, this time he's hiding something bigger -- he does not love El. He would much rather have Will stay in the dark about what he really 'needs to say' than have Will ask him more questions. He's worried that if he gives too much detail, he'll be outed as a liar, he'll be figured out by Will. There is no other reason for hiding what El wants him to say. He could tell Will, but he's simply worried about the questioning this would earn.
The fact that he's lying is one of the reasons he makes this face here:
This is when Will says 'Whatever you didn't say, you can say it to her then', referring to when Mike sees her again. He believes he's comforting Mike that she's safe and he will see her again.
At first, Mike grins at Will, simple because... he's happy that Will's comforting him. But then he starts to dig deeper into what he's just heard and what it then means. That's when he almost startles, blinks rapidly and looks nervous. The internal conflict is clear on his face, and the directors want you to take notice of it.
It's almost like he's disliking the fact he has to lie to Will here. He doesn't like that Will has no idea how deep this thing actually goes, and it's really not as simple as saying I love you when he sees El again.
All in all:
Will has no idea that he's encouraging Mike to say I love you to El.
He believes he's comforting Mike on the fact that El is safe and that Mike will see her again.
But Mike's worried about saying I love you. Meaning he's worried about seeing her again.
He does not want to say I love you.
Okay.... so this means that he does not want to say I love you. Even if it means that he can see El safe again. But this can be for many different reasons. Maybe he's not ready to make the commitment or something. But the next scene on the car is when Mike shows the real reason why he doesn't want to say it.
The next time Mike and Will talk about this, the thing that he has to say to her has been reframed to being 'The Truth.' He's realised, between the previous scene and the car scene, that he will eventually have to explain himself to El because he'll likely see her again. He thinks that if he had explained himself, maybe he would have taken him with her.
Now, 'explaining yourself' does not at all sound like a confession of love. It almost sounds like Mike trying to justify to El why he doesn't say it. AND:
He tells Will in this scene that he 'didn't know what to say' despite El spelling it out for him very clearly. This shows he knows that he can't say what she wants him to say, and he has no idea how to explain why he can't say it in a way that isn't incriminating. Again, he can't tell Will the thing he has to explain away, because it would raise too many questions.
Will says 'to say how you really feel', suggesting that Mike feels the opposite of what El wants. And the fact that Mike nods. He NODS when Will says 'what if they don't like the truth?' is just so clear to me. It AGAIN solidifies that Mike is nervous because he really doesn't want to tell El the truth. He has no idea what to say to make it better without lying.
TLDR; Mike does not want to say I love you to El. The reason? He doesn't love her.
#okay so conclusion?#mikes scared#byler#byler nation#byler endgame#mike wheeler#will byers#stranger things#byler evidence#byler proof#anti mileven#miwiheroes daily byler
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do you have any general yandere jayce talis from arcane headcanons, UHHHHH that man!!!!!!!!!
I've mentioned some of his tendencies in a joint post with Viktor, but Jayce does deserve his own post <3 Also, him with a beard is superior.
Warnings: Yandere themes, kidnapping at the end
Jayce's tendencies would heavily depend on which point of his life he's in, and if/which of his limits are pushed.
When he was younger, he would be pretty impulsive and delusional when it came to his obsession, especially during the time when his Hextech was taking off.
However, later in his life, especially during the war with Silco, his tendencies would heavily shift to prioritize your safety and wellbeing.
During his first few years of building Hextech, it would be very likely he'd fall for someone close by. Maybe you're on the Council, or someone close by to one of its members. You could be one of Heimerdinger's students or an assistant/worker in Hextech itself.
One way or another, you're close enough that Jayce sees you often enough to grow interested. When that interest takes root, he tries to find time to speak to you, to get to know you, in between his own work and yours.
At that time, Jayce's obsession would develop easily. Once he finds something he really likes in you, he finds himself wanting to know more, and as time goes on, his interest grows into something dangerous.
It can turn into something unfortunate considering Jayce isn't one to shove down his feelings when it comes to something he's passionate about. When he really, truly loves something, he'll go after it with everything he has.
That's where his impulsiveness comes in. He doesn't really consider that you might not feel anything for him other than friendship, or even just professional cordiality.
His delusional tendencies would also combine with his impulsivity, creating something rather dangerous.
He'll pursue you romantically, giving you gifts, trying to hype himself up and show you how much you mean to him.
If he sees anyone else trying to do the same, Jayce does not respond well. While he is a smart man, the idea of someone potentially swaying you makes all logic leave him. He gets lost in his paranoia and acts first rather than planning anything out.
You rejecting him in any way would only worsen that, and he's more likely to blame it on others than you or himself.
Later on in his life, Jayce's priorities shift. As the war with Silco grows, so does his fear for your safety. His paranoia and delusion would morph, also giving way to his protective tendencies.
The idea of you being thrust into the middle of everything makes his heart stop, and fear fills every part of him. He doesn't think he could take it if he saw you in danger.
His paranoia and delusions don't help and would morph to focus on you rather than others.
While yes, he does still believe you love him, even if you don't, that isn't at the forefront of his mind. He is still afraid of others stealing you away from him, it's now in a 'they're all trying to kill you' sorta way.
If you're with him willingly, this will present itself as him being around you much more often.
There will rarely be a time when he's not following you around while you're going about you're daily life, or that he's not asking (begging) you to come with him while he's working.
The only person Jayce really, truly trusts to protect you is himself. Otherwise, the worst-case scenarios always end up bleeding into his mind, making him worried sick and having him come back to you way earlier than he said he would.
Kidnapping you wasn't really on his mind before. He was more focused on winning you over naturally, and really wanted you to have a normal, happy relationship.
Now, however, Jayce really needs you to be safe. After Jinx's attack on the Council chambers, he only becomes worse.
This is especially true if you have been hesitant around him, or are avoiding him altogether because he's come off as unsettling.
He can't protect you if you're avoiding him, so he makes sure you can't leave him at all. He will not allow you to get hurt on his watch.
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Sorry folks, I just can't get Arcane out of my head.
"Quiet moments" - Arcane Scenarios
Arcane characters x f!reader - Fluff
Summary: Scenarios where the different characters of Arcane show affection during quiet moments.
Pairing: f!reader x Viktor, Jayce, Ekko, Sevika, Silco, Caitlyn, Vi.
Warnings: mention of killing, violence, brutal everyday stuff in Zaun.
VIKTOR
Relax isn't something Viktor is accostumed to and most of the time he passes his time in the laboratory, mentally crafting new hextech tools. Moments of peace and quiet are rare.
Being his assistant, you two stay together most of the time, but it is not so easy to find a moment to kiss or relax, when your boyfriend is constantly thinking and babbling about new projects.
One day, growing tired by the end of the evening, you sit on a chair in the laboratory, relaxing your tired legs and exhausted mind. Seeing you in such a state, Viktor stops speaking to himself and grabs his stick to approach you.
"Tired, my love?" "Exhausted, really" you respond with a low tone. "Progress dosn't wait for anyone" says the man as he gently strocks your hair with one hand.
"Need a pause, love?" Viktor asks with a smile on his face - "You can go to bed if you want, I'll probably be up all night again with this project".
Feeling a bit trascurated, you get up and heads out of the room to your shared bedroom, after giving him a quick kiss on the lips and a not-so-invisible upset expression on your face.
You impose to yourself to bathe and, after a quick shower, you head to bed, alone again, covering yourself with the covers, still smelling like his parfume.
After just a couple of moments, the door opens with a creak and Viktor enters the room, heading to the bed and sitting near your lying figure. After a kiss on your head, he takes off his clothes and, putting on his pygiama (yes, the man actually has a lot of them), gets in the bed with you.
With a sarcastic tone you say "Didn't you need to work all night again, Viktor?" - to which he replies "Mhhh, I prefer your company and warm over the project for tonight. Plus, I need to take care of a more important thing right now". The man spoons you from behind and hugs you with his arms, leaving a trail of kisses all over your head, before going to sleep.
JAYCE
The man is like a working machine but knows when to stop, differntly from his lab partner, Viktor. Jayce is always happy to have relaxing moments with you and, being a senator, taking advantage of the pros of his position is not something he refuses.
That particolar day, however, you saw your boyfriend like you hadn't seen him in a long time. After passing most of the day running for commisions, when you returned home, it was empty. No sight of Jayce, no left trace of his passage. With a tired sigh, you left your groceries on the counter and headed back out to the palace, to try and find your "lost" man.
After some time of futile searching, you find yourself in the big library, hoping Jayce would be there for a late study session. Instead, you find Mel, reading a book with so much focus that she doesn't hear your approaching steps.
"Sorry, Mel, have you seen Jayce? I've been searching for him for some time now and I don't know where to look for anymore" "Oh, hi y/n! - she replies - I think your man has gone crazy with work over the last hextech project. If I were you, I would search in the furnace, maybe he is releasing a bit of tension".
The furnace! How could you have forgotten about that place. Giving a thank you to Mel and leaving the library, you go directly to the place. The room was like a lair for Jayce, where he could let all of his frustation go and create new machines at the same time. When you arrive at the entrance of the furnace, you were welcomed by a wave of heat and strong fire light from the oven. Jayce was standing in front of it, withour his shirt and with his mind focused on the hammer in his hands, while working on what seemed to be e shield.
"Hi love, tired already?" you say with a timid voice - "Oh, Janna, sorry sweety, I think I completely lost sense of time, damn". Letting the hammer down, the man goes straight to you and hugs you, embracing all of you into his strong arms. The scent of his body is supressed by the smell of wood and metal, but it is still enough for you to take a hint of it, making you relax against his chest.
"I have missed you, silly" you say "when are you gonna come home?" "This exact moment, sweety, I have neglected you enough for today, I am so sorry" says Jayce with a guilt tone - "I want to cuddle with you for the entire night. Now, let's go home".
Jayce leaves on your lips a tired but loving kiss, before setting his arm around your waist and heading out of the furnace.
EKKO
Ekko is normally busy with the administration of the Firelights and their missions, but he always finds a moment during the day to remind you how much he loves you.
Returning from a successful mission against some on Silco's man, you and your crew are flying from the damaged and corrupted areas of Zaun to your life-saviour tree. The massive giant and the green all around you is always a comforting view after a failed mission. This time, however, you were able to destroy the cargo-ship of Silco and the barrels of shimmer lightened up pretty well. Every success is a small step towards the liberation of Zaun from the dispotic power of Silco, but everytime someone dies, and from both parts there are just Zaunites. Your own people, in the end. It would have been preferable to fight against the tight-asses of Piltover, instead.
After the arrival on the tree, it was not difficult to find your boyfriend, already surronded by a group of children who were laughing at his silly imitations of animals. A smile forms on your face and a warm sensation tightens around your heart, seeing him laughing like that and having fun. After all things the two of you have experienced together, you know that these occasions were rare and for Ekko they were the results of his efforts.
Calling him, whistling a particular note (your code signal), he tilts his head up to see your face and, after having said goodbye to the children, he grabs his flying skateboard and runs to you with a big smile on his face.
"Hi princess! Good to see you! How are you? How was the mission? How are the others?" storming you with questions, the boy grabs your shoulder with his hands. "Woah, calm down pretty boy. It's good to see you too" you utter with a groan caused by your sore shoulders and back after the mission - "Everything turned out good and the tips given by the bartender were right. I don't know how much more that man can remain alive, stealing documents from Silco".
"I'll see what we can do to protect him. We need those information at any cost. In the meantime, come here with me, Princess. Let's have a bit of us moment". Guiding you to the body of the immense tree, he sits and leans, letting you sit in between his legs, hugging you from behind.
"I want you to know how much I appreciate your contribution to the cause and how much I love you, everyday a little more than the day before. I don't think I would have accomplished so much without you, thank you". Looking into his eyes, a loving light irradiates and warms your heart. "No silly, you, me and all the others have accomplished this thanks to your leadership, your courage and your strengh. We all should be devoted to you".
"You are right" Ekko says with a hint of playful superiority in his voice - "You should all pray me as a God, you especially my little subordinate". "Ah ah ah, go to hell Ekko" you reply with a sarcastic tone.
The guy laughs, a warming smile on his face. Planting kisses on your shoulders, Ekko tightens his arms around you and says: "I have never tamed my feral little Princess and I never will". Before returning to his duties, Ekko takes his time to listen to you about the mission and how everything went, never stopping his hand from drawing gentle circles on your thigh.
SEVIKA
Working for Silco has never been an easy job and you know that. Everytime Sevika returned home from a mission, she was just a little more tired, a little more sore and her mechanical arm needed constant mantainment. It is fun for you, though, to project new weapons and ways to make her arm even more efficient, allowing your girlfriend to not be so worry in every battle. It is your mission to provide for the multitasking mechanical arm and its new weapons.
After a long morning of drawing new harmful guns and technological knives, it is your so-waited moment to have lunch. Getting out from one of houses near the Last Drop, you head to a near restaurant (if someone could call it that). That day you were hoping for a sweet and romantic lunch with Sevika, but she was out of sight and probably still on a mission. You remember the sensation of her body getting out of bed in the morning at what you think was the sunrise and the sound of her heavy footsteps leaving your room.
Sevika is not so used to show affection, especially in public, but she has never left in the morning without placing a gentle kiss on your cheek, saying "later" in a low and loving tone.
Ordering something from the menu, on which the dishes were always the same and pretty boring, you starts to fantasize about the restaurants in Piltover, rich with delights and different foods. The sigh that escapes from your lips is frustated, why does it have to be so difficult for the Zaunites, while the rich-asses of Piltover waste money over stupid things and complain about futile problems?
Lost in your thoughts, you don't notice the figure that has just opened the door of the local, looking lefts and rights in search for you. After she spots you, Sevika goes straight to you and, without saying a word, plops herself on the other side of the table. Already a bit irritated by your own trail of thoughts and not being in the mood for games, withour taking the eyes off the menu, you say "Please man, I don't want any problem and the seat is already taken. I wouldn't want my scary bodyguard to come look after you, it wouldn't finish in a good way" "Is that how you see me? As your scary bodyguard?"
You tilt you head up to meet the eyes of Sevika, a smirk on her face and a cigarette already at the corner of her mouth. "Oh Janna, I'm sorry love ahahah, I thought you were just one silly man. How are you? How was the mission? Do you like the new weapon I installed you? That knife is pretty sharp, uh?" you say with enthusiasm. Sevika smiles at you and, leaning on the cracking chair, responds: "It is not bad at all, I killed a bunch of people with it this morning. Everything went good" .
"I am so glad to hear that, want to eat something?" "I said to Silco I would have taken the afternoon off just for you, my little doll". Sevika isn't used to nicknames in public, so she whispered the last part of the phrase, but it was enough for you to put a smile on your face and feeling a blush forming on your cheeks.
"Thanks love, I appreciate it so so so much". Sevika gets up and positions her seat right next to yours, and, putting her human arm around you, calls the waiter to take the order.
"I promise you, one day we'll have lunch in the most luxurious restaurant of the entire city, doll. I'll do anything to provide to you the best lab ever created for you to craft your weapons". The warm tone of her promise makes you lean into her embrace, before putting a small kiss on her cheek.
SILCO
The idea of relax and taking a pause are what can be the most far from Silco's mind. The man is used to stay up all night and to have problems 24h, so his head is always filled with thoughts about the next mission. There is, however, a specific moment of the day which is his favourite and most hated at the same time.
Hidden by piles of papers and documents, the lean figure of your man is out of sight and the only sound that is hearable is the scratch of the pen on paper.
Your relationship with Silco was complicated, it wasn't always so easy for him to speak about his emotions, his feelings and at first you felt just like an object, a piece of meat for his own entrateinment. Everything changed when Powder arrived and, seeing your affection towards the little girl, Silco saw you under a new light and love started to spread from his heart. A coarse love, not well defined and still in need of some touches, but in was indeed an enormous step for the man.
After the first period of time, in which Silco outdistanced himself even more, scared by the new feeling, the time of reconcilliation came when the man understood the new warmth around his heart. The thought of you was the only important thing in his mind, together with the safety of Powder.
"Hi Sil, here I come for your everyday delivery!" you say with a funny tone, underling the last words - "How are you doing, I haven't seen you the entire day and sleeping alone is always boring". The man doesn't lift his head from the papers, but signals to you with his hand to wait for just a moment. Letting a smile form on your face, you approach the man behind his desk, enlightened by the big greenish window.
"All done, darling. I am all yours now". Silco had made you very clear that your relationship had to be kept a secret, for the public you were just one of his subordinates, who, occasionally, was called to give him "relief". The reasons of such a decision were clear to you and it didn't bother you that much, in the end, the relief part was true.
"Love that! Ready for the needle?" A hated routine moment in Silco's life, but it was made more bearable by your presence. Looking into your eyes with his blue and orange ones, he opened a drawer of his desk to take the so hurtful needle. You were responsable to provide him with his daily dose of medical shimmer. Positioning yourself between his legs, Silco sets his hands on your waist and a piece of leather between his teeth not to bite his tongue.
"I'll be the most delicate possible, Sil, I promise" Looking at you, already knowing what was going to happen, Silco nods his head and rests it against the chair. Pointing the needle right in his eye and ready to inject the purple liquid, you take a final sight of the scar all over his left part of the face, that scar that you love so much, that bears a lot of painful memories.
"At three, ok? One, two, ..." and you press the injector right into his eye. The reaction of Silco is immediate, and he needs a high dose of control to not tilt his head and let the shimmer go to waste. Hearing his rapid deep breath and the strengh of his hands on your waist, you set the needle on the desk, before gently strocking the hair of your man, allowing his head to rest on your chest.
"Shh Sil, it is all done now, you can relax. I am here for you". After a few minutes, as always, Silco's breath returns to a normal rhythm and, letting the piece of leather out of his mouth, without looking at you, he says: "Thanks darling, I don't know what I would do without you. That shit hurts like hell, fuck. Give me a moment, will you?" A small but noticeable smile appears on his face and the man grabs his cigar, the only other vice that he has, except for you.
Letting you sit in his lap, Silco strocks your hair with the free hand. "Darling, how is it that everytime you come here, your face is more beautiful than it was before?" - with a soft blush on your face, you reply "Seeing me not so often doesn't help, Sil". Letting out a frustated sigh, Silco places a kiss on your lips, a soft yet loving one, giving to you all of his attention.
"Accept this apology for the moment, little one, I'll redeem myself later. Tonight I'm all yours, if you want my company. I haven't enjoyed a dinner with you in a long time an it is not acceptable. I'll have Sevika bring something here and we can have our little chat". Sevika knew about your relationship and helped in many ways, everything to keep Silco at least a bit more relaxed from time to time.
"I know that having dinner in the office is not optimal and is not your idea of a romantic date, but we must be patient and endure these hard times. I will give you anything you want and the future is just ours, darling". Silco gives you another kiss and, letting you stay on his lap, continues to do the paperwork.
CAITLYN
Caitlyn is a hard-working soldier, it has always been her dream to be part of the enforcer's group. She loves action, her desire is to help the city and defend it against the menaces of Zaun. At the same time, Cait is not someone that can't take a risk, and in the last period she has gone to the underground quiet a bit of times. You started to worry about her safety among the people of Zaun, but Cait has reassured you.
The two of you have met thanks to a job that was assigned to both of you. Even though you weren't a proper enforcer and your job was mostly done behind a desk, your abilities to coordinate and plan the missions were fundamental for good results. Occasionally, however, you accompanied the other enforcers to get a better sight of the places for your maps. After the first encounter, Cait used her mother's influence (just this time, I promise, she is a good gal) to have you has her mission's planner, at first just from time to time, but the two of you ended up as a team in no time. Cait and you shared a particular chemistry and fun was never left out.
You and Cait started to go out as collegues at first, dicussing the next mission and moves, but after some time, it was clear that something has changed and a new feeling has developed. Cait would have never first admitted it, but her actions spoke louder than her words and one day, tired of waiting, you took the initiative and kissed her. As a result, you basically started living at her place, strangely accepted also by her mother (I consider Cait's father as a sweet man, and another girl in a family of mostly women wasn't a problem for him).
That morning, waking up late and tired from the last mission, you roll in your bed to search for the comfortable presence of your girlfriend, just to find an empty place. With a tired sigh, you wait another five minutes and get up from the bed. Having fixed yourself for a trace of dignity after sleeping, you step close to the door to open it, but your gesture is anticipated. Cait stands at the door, fully clothed in her uniform and with a visible worried and sad expression on her face.
"Jeez, Cait, what happened?" you say - "Well, sorry. Hello in the first place, love. What is going on inside that pretty brain of yours?" Cait looks at you with sadness in her eyes, the blue irradiates from her pupils a sense of almost agony, not physiscal but mental. Withour saying a word, Cait places a small kiss on your cheek, leaving you with a surprised expression on your face, and takes your hand to guide you to the bed.
Cait lays down on the bed and you do the same, setting yourself on the other side, facing her. "Do you want to talk about what happened yestarday, Cait? I think the past mission is still bothering you". The task assigned to you two was the retrieval of a rare substance that had been taken by some of Silco's men, but the attack hadn't gone right and some enforcers were killed. The problem was that, during the fight, one of the enemies had accidentally killed a small girl that was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Cait was almost killed, frozen in place at the sight of the small life taken away, while the killer wasn't bothered that much.
"It was not your fault, Cait. You weren't responsable for anything. That son of a bitch was the animal, he didn't care about that. I have been taking a better perimeter of the zone and the next time, I can send some undercoverd enforcers to keep all the civils away".
"Why are we still fighting?" says Cait with a whisper - "Why do innocent people always get in the middle and are the ones that turns out to be the vistims of ours and Silco's stupid games? Why can't we just leave in peace and help each other". A small tear starts to appear at the corner of her blue eyes and you don't waist second to dry it.
"I am sorry, love, I know it is hard. But just with our hard work can we have better results. Civils are always the victims, in the end, and that sucks. It is how fights work and it is disgusting. But we can change that, we can make the city a better place for everyone. I spoke with Jayce yesterday, and he says that the hextech could also be used in medicine! Can you imagine it? It would be wondeful!" Putting a cheerish tone in your voice, you try to comfort your girlfriend, who repays you with a soft smile.
"Thank, honey, I needed that" says Cait - "Sometimes I get too carried away. But I want the same justice also for the people of Zaun, we are part of one city, in the end. Tomorrow I want to organise a ceremony for the little girl, let the Zaunites know we still care about them".
"That's how it is done. Love to see that sparkle in your eyes" you respond - "Now, what do you wanna do today? Beside the organisation of the ceremony. I have some work to do, but after that I am free".
Cait looks up at you and, with a delicate tone says: "Let's stay there five more minutes, please, I need some time to recollect myself". "Whatever you need love" you reply. Strocking her cheek just one more time, you get near Cait and, looking into her eyes, you start cuddling her, talking about the latest improvements of the hextech.
VI
The idea of relax for Vi can have different forms. It varies from a stroll on the roofs of Zaun to start a fight in a pub just for fun.
The two of you met during one of these fights and Vi saved your ass from a flying chair, just to look at you with a smirk on her face and say: "How can a beautiful face like yours be in miserable place like that?" In the meantime she was trying to hold back a man that was more large than tall. The flirt didn't stop after that night and the relationship was not late to arrive.
Vi owns a central place in your heart, her figure is always there to protect you and she would do anything to not let you get hurt. Her ways of showing affection have changed: at start she would just flirt and playing the dominant part, not showing any other emotions except cockiness. But after some time, Vi started to give you small kisses in public, calling you nicknames and showing a side of her that just a few people had been able to know.
The relationship has been doing great and, even though life in Zaun has never been easy, the two of you had found your place in a small house near Vander's statue.
That morning, after having passed the night out with your friends, you wake up with Vi by your side, but the cuddling time doesn't last enough, beacause Vi needs to go out for some commisions. Resting a bit more, you wake up after a couple of hours to find your girlfriend patching her arm up, with bruises all over her chest.
Running to her with a sudden movement, you get near and take her face into your hands, looking terrible worried. "What the hell, Vi? What happened to you, why are all covered in bruises? It seems like a giant has got you!" "You aren't so distant from reality, cupcake" Vi replies - "That jerk had got what he deserved. I am in a bad state, but you should see him". The last words put a smirk on Vi's face.
"Vi you can't start a bar fight at ten in the morning, jeez! You could have been more injuried". "I was not alone, capcake, don't worry. Ekko was there with me and we made a spledid fight".
Looking at her with judging eyes, you take the first aid kit and start to prepare the necessary to patch her arm. "So, I need to talk to him, too. That boy is in big trouble". Vi puts on a funny face, mixing the regret for having told about Ekko and the expectation for the outcome of your meeting.
"Don't think you are out of this, Vi. You will receive the lecture when you'll fell better". "Love that, cupcake. Always love when you lecture me" Vi says with a sarcastic tone, to tease you.
After having helped her with the arm, you start to disinfect her sore hands, where there's still a bit of blood. "Pay attention the next time, Vi, please. Hit him under the chin, he should go out in no time". "Thanks for the advice, cupcake. Now come here". After that, Vi places a soft kiss on your cheeks, and the rest of the morning is filled with the report of Vi about the fight, about how Ekko and her put down a dozen of Silco's men and the fun they had.
#arcane#scenarios#oneshots#arcane scenarios#arcane imagine#ekko#silco#vi#caitlyn arcane#viktor#jayce#sevika#writing#arcane characters#arcane characters x reader
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vent(?)asf also poll at the end if u read it
am i the only one that has VERY specific interests inside of scp but also isn't very connected to the lore of said interests?
Like, first off I am extremely specific with the things I like and don't know alot of the BROAD info. For example I'm been obsessed with 035,049, and alagadda for the last 4 years or so, and newly fixated on sarkicism, but that's kinda it. Like if you asked me anything abt the mtf groups or the researchers i couldn't give you anything just bc I haven't looked into them and haven't really planned to. I know I SHOULD learn absolutely everything I can about every topic, but it's a very daunting task. Scp is huge. Am I being a fake fan or poser just because I cant understand alot of info on different aspects in scp? I want to, it's just scary.
second, even with the things I DO like (I'll use sarkicism and alagadda as an example, only because I'm somewhat happy on the knowledge I have on 035 and 049) I still don't know as much as other people into it. Am I even allowed to say I like alagadda if I haven't read all the tales and know the entire lore? Am I able to say I like sarkicism and post about it if I haven't even started reading En Memoria Adytumn(?) And get most of my info from what others say (I have read both tales - to my knowledge- containing derdekeas, so he's an exception ig). I don't want to be a fraud. I love my headcanons and making new stories out of stuff I know for my own universe, but I'm starting to think that they're moving me back in my "studies" of scp
All in all, I'm worried. I've felt like this for the whole 5 years I've been in this community, and it's never really gone away no matter how much I assure myself that it's okay to not know everything. I don't want to let anyone down or disappoint, I want to be the "ideal fan" of the scp universe that knows almost everything but I'm just not. I have barely anything to show for the time I've been obsessed with it, and it's embarrassing. Tbh i dont feel comfortable calling it a special intrest of mine anymore just bc from what ive heard, a special intrest is something youll learn anything about and are expertly versed on. I want so badly to learn everything I can, bit there's a lack of spark to do so. I think my pessimism is holding me back and I don't know how to break free. It sucks ass.
Anyways, thanks for making it this far. Just something I had to get off my chest. If you have any insights or opinions, please vote on what I should do. I think it would give me the push I need to get set on a decision and
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Councilors vs Chem-Barons
Remember that creators wanted to "show there is merits and flaws on both sides"? While I still feel that agenda in the first season, the second season is... well.
The easiest way to see that creators wanted you to be more sympathetic to Piltover is to look at the rulers of both cities. The Council is flawed but mostly fine, while Chem-Barons are purely bad.
You can protest that 'wait, but in s1 we saw that the Council is corrupted' and... i agree with that. But let's take a closer look at all members with information from both s1 and s2, hmm?
Torman Hoskel was portrayed as silly and easily manipulated person. He is the worst among them.
Salo makes the same appearance as Hoskel in s1. But in s2 he becomes disabled. This is the easiest way to manipulate you into sympathizing him. Of course, this wouldn't change your view of him completely, since his personality remained the same, but you can understand his anger (his suffering is shown on the screen). Besides, later when Viktor heals his legs, Salo changes, losing his arrogance and becoming a good person.
Irius Bolbok is strict, composed and slightly harsh ruler (remember him saying to find the culprit no matter what). But he isn't shown as bad as Hoskel and Salo in s1. He is quite decent.
Shoola was portrayed as reasanable ruler from very beginning. She was the first who said "They [zaunites] may not be your preferred consituents but they're still our people." She was the first after Mel who voted for Zaun's independance. In s2, we see how she cares about people rather than acting in the interests of revenge like Salo.
Cassandra Kiramman was also showed as good person even in s1. She might not be active Zaun's simpathizer but she did schedule an audience for Caitlyn and Vi giving them a chance to change Councilors opinion about Zaun (ofc it's bc Cait is her daughter but Cassandra could just deny her). Also in s2 we learn that she built a ventilation system which makes her the only Councilor (beside Jayce) who actually did something for Zaun.
Mel Medarda is shown as a woman who does things for her own benefit, manipulating others. But she still did vote for the independence of Zaun (albeit for personal reasons). You also can't say that she's a bad person or that she's done really bad things for her cause (like Silco for example).
Jayce is a bad politician and has made few mistakes, but at the end of the day, he is a good man.
Heimerdinger is portrayed as good person as well.
Even though we know that all of them are corrupt (except Heimer) and that they have ignored Zaun for decades, only one of them has no good traits and completely unlikable (Hoskel).
But what do we have with Chem-Barons?
Finn is an idiot and power-hungry.
Rennie is too. She lost her son, which to some extent makes you understand her attacks on memorial (not justify, just understand), but the show itself does not even focus on this fact, ignoring that little nuance.
Chross's goons force children to work in the mines. He also fights for Silco's chair to gain more power.
Smeech's business is connected to shimmer (i guess he provides it after Silco's death?). Only, unlike Silco, Smeech isn't shown as someone who uses shimmer simply as a tool to achieve a higher goal (nation of Zaun). He is just power-hungry like others. Also s2 shows that he doesn't value his own people.
Margot is unloyal as well. "I'd rather favor my chances with Topside". She fights for power like others.
Silco is the only one who commits bad deeds for a higher purpose. All he wants is an independent Zaun, not power itself. We see his positive traits such as dedication to his city, love for Jinx and others, which makes him the only really likable among other Chem-Barons.
Of course the government doesn't represent people themselves. We saw that there are good people in Zaun and there are bad people in Piltover. But you know what it does represent? Creators' true view of Piltover/Zaun conflict.
Despite everything Piltover was ready to grant Zaun independence. The Council was shown flawed but the characters themselves were not completely bad persons. You, as a viewer, can understand and sympathize them. Creators made sure you will sympathize them.
But Zaun? Bandits and criminals who don't think beyond their pockets. The only person who did and tried to do something good for Zaun was wrong, bc s2 promotes us "violence is not the answer" and "power of forgiveness" agenda.
So where are the "merits and flaws on both sides" again?
#sometimes i will write a short analysis but not today#also don't tell me “but The Councilors are opressors"#i know that but this 'little nuance' was brushed aside and wasn't properly addressed in s2#arcane#arcane s2#arcane critical#zaun#piltover#zaun/piltover
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reggie has never liked dmitri's pretty boys, but he had never once in the time he's known the man expected to be one of them. he knows it's all jealousy, knows that it's a sick, twisted possession of the man that he hasn't earned and doesn't deserve, but he's always been harsh and judgemental to them, the way they tossed themselves at dmitri, fluttered and preened and basked in the attention the man offered while shamelessly soaking up the bread crumbs of affection afforded to them for the moments they stayed in his life.
of course, they had just been moments. reggie has something on all of those pretty boys, and that's the fact that he's still here. somewhere deep in the pit of his stomach, there's a fear, the fear that giving in to this primal desire, that offering himself up to dmitri like this is simply asking to be tossed aside and discarded like the rest of them, but their friendship is far stronger than that, their relationship is built on a mutual trust and understanding, and even knowing that this night is going to wreck him, going to wreck other men for him, going to shatter his chances at finding someone who can even come close to dmitri, he's going to let it happen.
maybe it's the best way to get it out of his system, maybe the best way to unwind and relax, to not feel like there's always something unspoken between the two of them.
reggie isn't stupid. he has no illusions of this becoming something more. dmitri doesn't do more. reggie isn't going to push it, even if this is the best sex of his life (and knowing his friend, it very well might be). he does whine, a soft noise as his eyes laser focus on the hand curling around the impressive cock in front of him, his tongue darting out, desperate to taste. he can feel the saliva pooling there, a sort of raw desperation to show dmitri just how good he is at sucking cock, how well he's honed the skill, to impress the man. maybe dmitri will wreck other men for reggie, but reggie wants the chance to at least try to do the same.
before he can even think to ask, however, dmitri is moving, the kiss on his thigh sending a jolt up his body, his poor weeping cock jumping against his stomach, desperate for contact. it's a powerful jolt and a small relief when that heavy length finally makes contact with his own, and reggie's head falls backwards against the furs behind him, eyes closing as a wanton, downright slutty moan comes out of him. his hands find skin, strong muscles stretched tense over shoulders, and dig in, hips rolling up to match the slow and steady rhythm that dmitri seems so content with keeping.
god, he wants more. he wants dmitri to fuck him into this mattress, to make an absolute mess of him. he wants to open his mouth wide and take him down his throat, he wants to get on his hands and knees and present himself to the man over him like a piece of meat to do with as he will. "oh." the breathy sound falls out of him as he surges up to find skin, any skin, to kiss, to bite, to suck. the skin on dmitri's shoulder, his collarbone, his neck. he tastes the salty sweat there and the hands on his shoulders pull, trying to drag him closer.
"i need-- need you inside me." his voice is a desperate plea, begging just over a whisper. he's falling completely over to the pleasure and the desire, giving no thought to anything related to ego or pride. even if he had the brain power to access them, he knows, deep down, he would still be begging for dmitri. he's wanted this for so long, it already feels like a fever dream that it's happening at all. he wants to take advantage of every moment they have. "want to show you how good i can take you. clean you up with my mouth after you're done. i want you to do whatever you want to me, dmitri, please."
The elegant cabin bedroom seemed to hum with tension, the dim flicker of candlelight casting restless shadows over rich mahogany and leather. Outside, the winter raged, but in here------ here, it was molten. Dmitri should've anticipated that sneaky, delicious "sir" curling off Reggie's bitten lips, honeyed and provocative, a weapon aimed too perfectly. A sign, maybe, that Reggie was far too adept at reading him, at understanding all the ways to getting underneath his skin. But no amount of knowing could have prepared him for the jolt it sent tearing through his gut, low and devastating, like heat crashing over unrelenting steel. Something primitive coiled deep inside him, searing, urgent. His breath staggered a little, the sensation ripping through the taut ridges of his abdomen, deep grooves betraying all that tension smoldering beneath his skin. The pleasure, the need, twisted sharp and fevered. He liked that. Hell, he really fucking liked that. Too much. The vanilla candles trembled slightly as he lit them, their faint scent curling into the heady air. He worked with a measured calm that felt like a lie, like the pulse in his throat wasn’t racing, like his skin wasn’t burning up from within, every inch of him fever-hot, his blood pounding in his veins. Yes, sir. What the fuck gave Reggie the right to sound so sensual? So devastatingly, achingly perfect? Dmitri exhaled slowly, steadying the tremor coiled tight inside. His tongue swept over his lower lip, deliberate, tasting the heat sitting in the air as he set the lighter down. A soft glow painted Reggie in gold, and he saw everything. Every inch. Every invitation.
And so, Dmitri closed the distance, leisurely shedding the last remnants of his clothing, until only the shimmering jewelry at his neck remained----- beautiful, expensive, and gleaming against the flawless brown canvas of his skin. Like a demigod adorned with an exquisite offering, he stood at the end of the bed, gaze fixed on Reggie’s breathtaking presentation, a sight that could bring any red-blooded man to his knees. But Dmitri was all about the slow admiration of his prize, hungered gaze roaming up and down Reggie's opened legs that spread all too devotedly for him. So delicate and exposed across the furs as he waited for Dmitri to come and claim what was his for the night, that pretty cock between Reggie's thighs erect and weeping soft, slight pearls of cum. Well, that was something that they both had in common----- because Dmitri's cock was pulsating for contact, or for something tight and needy to fuck, and he wasn't about to restrain himself, reaching right down to the intimidating length and giving his thick shaft a few quick pumps with his fist. Just to take off that slight edge, and perhaps, put a tease right out in front of Reggie's rounded, desperately glazed over eyes, as a few drops of pre-cum dribbled from the swollen purple head of Dmitri's cock. They both knew that Reggie wanted all of that cock, and well, Dmitri wanted to see him wanting it, shamelessly.
"You gonna start whining, Reg?" A rough chuckle escaped Dmitri’s baritone when he dropped to one knee on the bed, slowly leaning over Reggie. He paused just long enough to press his lips to the sensitive skin of Reggie’s inner thigh, just above the bend of his knee. His voice was sweetly teasing, reminiscent of the playful moments they shared as just friends, though he’d promised himself to lock away that part of him, his heart. This wasn’t about making love. No, this was about purging something from both of their systems, something that had become a problem for them. Obviously. Dmitri’s gaze went on slowly tracing the length of Reggie’s body, lingering on that tight, flattened tummy, watching his chest flutter with each breath. His eyes finally settled on the flushed, swollen curve of Reggie’s bitten bottom lip. God, he was gorgeous. Dmitri’s big hands quickly latched onto Reggie’s hips, dragging him entirely beneath the force of his body, so that finally the curve of Reggie's pretty cock rubbed underneath his own, hot hard contact that elicited an immediate grunt out of him.
"S'okay. You can whine for it. Love to hear my pretty boy need my cock, you just can't help yourself."
He’s playing a mean game, though not as mean as he’s capable of, and secretly, it’s draining every ounce of his self-control, pushing his limits in ways nothing else ever could. Reggie tests him like no one else----- his every move, every silken word of pure desire a challenge to Dmitri’s resolve. But Dmitri thinks he masks it well, all while desperately hoping he’s never too vulnerable, never too obvious in his longing. Every moment is a tightrope, teetering on the edge of something dangerous. But he keeps going, athletic hips dragging languidly, back and forth, stroking his big veiny cock right up against Reggie's, hovering his rippling powerful body in such a way that he can look down Reggie's front and watch them frot against each other. Dmitri's slick pre dripping down on Reggie's engorged head, Reggie's pre dropping a mess on his stomach. Both of them tensed up, a sheen of sweat glistening on Dmitri’s shifting muscles as his hands sank into the black silk sheets, gripping them tightly for balance. "Fuck," he rasps, panting through the excitable fluttering of his racing heart in his chest. "That's it.... fuck, Reggie, baby..."
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For the last time, the Diamond Authority in Steven Universe isn't a stand-in for actual fascism, it's a vehicle for the queer power fantasy of getting your transphobic grandma to understand.
#juney.txt#steven universe#you just wanted the show to be something it isn't. to focus more on the cool space empire rather than interpersonal relationships#and are then refusing to meet the show where it's at.#this is also why people dislike the episodes that focus on the people who live in beach city. and decry those episodes as ''filler''
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Why are all courtroom dramas legal comedies whatever about murder and so on. i want a movie about reinheitsgebot für bier
#“but elke reinheitgebot für bier isn't funny” are you kidding. reinheitgebot für bier is the funniest shit. peak fucking comedy#Really what i want is less focus on criminal law as like. The Main Aspect of law. i mean yes i do watch detective/murder mystery shows and#enjoy them but i do also have my problems with the commercialization of true crime and also the misinformation about the legal side of#things that these things often perpetuate. even if it is just calling something that's is almost definitely a tötung mord#there is more to law than murder trials and some of it is really entertaining!!!! and no one even dies
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you know what, I actually will talk about this because it's bothering me. The issue with focussing so heavily on syd and carmy's potential for a romantic relationship isn't that there's something inherently unintellectual about romance or whatever, it's that a lot of people seem incapable of doing that without immediately flattening the story and ignoring or intentionally misreading any and all nuance for the sake of that romance. Every scene suddenly becomes about how it impacts their relationship, every analysis is done through a romantic lens, every frame or line of dialogue becomes about finding some easter egg or hint that "proves" these people should start dating. Their dynamic is absolutely a fundamental part of this show, but if you can only see it as a will-they-won't-they, you miss so much of what the story is actually trying to say with these two.
There are good versions of this story where their relationship is romantic and there are good versions of this story where it isn't, but as soon as you decide them being together is "the point," you lose the ability to actually judge the story for what it is, not what you want it to be.
#like so much of their dynamic (esp but not exclusively in S3) has been about showing the ways that carmy's trauma and dysfunctional#attitude in the kitchen impacts other people and how even though he cares about syd and wants their partnership to work he keeps self#sabotaging and setting himself and by extension her and the restaurant up to fail and replicating the same toxic environments that#he grew up and trained in and this is very much consistent with his character and a natural continuation of the conflicts they've been#having since S1 but because him being shitty with her runs contrary to them getting together suddenly its 'ruining the story' and#out of character and only happening bc the writers just hate to see this ship winning and like. if you really think that i genuinely don't#know what show you've been watching bc it sure as shit wasn't this one. like it hurts to see him do this because you know#they could do something genuinely great together and that he's ruining a really good thing but this is also the reality of where he is rn#if he was just a good and supporting business partner and not deeply dysfunctional it would be wildly out of character#the problem w S3 wasn't that it 'ruined' their relationship it's that it had no clear focus overemphasized carmy's arc at the expense#of the other leads deprioritized the supporting cast while failing to give them their own arcs gave more screen time to#unecessary and uninteresting new 'comic relief' characters and let conflicts stagnate without resolving them or#letting them evolve over the course of the season.#this isn't exclusive to the bear this is a general trend ive noticed where as soon as the 'shipper' part of people's brains get activated#it's like they lose the ability to read the story any other way and it stops being about what's good for the narrative and starts being#about whether or not these two people kiss and anything that gets in the way of that is bad and anything that brings it closer is good#and it's usually whatever but it's really frustrating when the story ppl are doing that to is this good#it also makes people fundamentally incapable of treating any 'obstacle' to that romance in a way that isn't wildly meanspirited and#gross (esp bc those characters are usually women) which is exhausting. like no claire isn't evil or a 'pick me' or 'bad' for carmy#or a useless addition to the story or whatever other nonsense you guys have decided must be true to feel okay. she's a perfectly normal#character and their relationship is exploring some of the ways that carmy's inability to deal with or actually address his trauma#impacts the various relationships in his life. she doesn't even have to be a monster or a narrative mistake for him and syd to be#'destined' for each other or whatever. this isn't a middle school wattpad fic.#im definitely gonna get killed in the street for this but ive been looking for a good reason to spend less time on here so might as well#the bear#sydcarmy#sydney adamu#carmy berzatto
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Her eyes focused down on her hands as she realized Rowan couldn't understand sign. It was a constant reminder of her disability, and if not for Tangle she'd have more trouble communicating with everyone. It was a blessing that she put so much effort into learning sign, and picked it up so easily. It frustrated her and made her feel weak, and she hated that feeling. It wasn't rowan's fault or tangle's it was just--- A Reminder of what Eggman took from her even as a child.
She snapped back out of her silence upon seeing the Key and reached up to take it. Though her focus fell on the key, her ears were burning by Rowan's statement. What did he mean by that? Was he just implying he was kind to her? made her happy? or something else? She just nodded though she couldn't shape that bashful feeling and wanted to grab her mask but--- it was clear across the room so she just felt like she'd have to suffer for now!
She was happy when the two spoke of Tangle's brother if only because i drew attention away from her. She was able to hide her face in the crook of Tangle's neck as she let Rowan and Tangle Talk. she didn't want to interrupt them as she was still feeling a bit shy around him. It was one thing to be on a mission and in middle of battle but in a social setting? Whisper's mind was a flutter with so many ill thoughts it was hard to focus.
Though... it sounded like Rowan valued his privacy, a fact she could respect. Clark had very much pushed his limits, still she liked Rowan and he treated Tangle better then her folks. in fact she'd wager Rowan was more of a father to Tangle then twist was.
✋ Tangle, your brother isn't going to show up here and cause problems is he? I don't want to cause you or your family any unneeded headaches... ✋
She signed to Tangle as she was a little concerned this might spiral into a bigger issue. She didn't want to be a burden to Tangle and cause more problems with her family.
"I suppose this is the awkward moment where I mention I completely forgot you don't talk and I don't know sign." Rowan guessed he'll be having to learn how to make talking to Whisper easier as he was sure he'd be seeing her more often. "Though I'm going to go out on a limb and assume you like it." The lemur was sure if the wolf had a problem then he would've heard about it from his niece already.
"She says thanks for letting us use it, and that she'll keep me out of trouble. Whisper actually talks about owning a place like this one day, after everything is all peaceful and there won't be anymore fighting. Knowing Eggman that day is pretty far, though it sounds nice. She also wouldn't mind sharing with me, and I'm fine with that." Tangle hoped things worked out in the end and they got to that point. The lemur didn't want to mention how Whisper said she'd keep her out of trouble, though now way was she going to lie in front of her.
"Hey, from the sounds of it you've been treating my niece right so you're welcome to stay here anytime. Hence why I'm also dropping off a spare key for you to have. And if your brother comes here tell him to take a hike," Rowan said as he pulled the key from his belt and set it on tv stand.
"What did Clark do this time?" Tangle asked, though had more than a few good guesses. Her brother took after their mom and he was a spoiled brat because of how he was pretty much dotted on growing up. The lemur could already imagine her brother saying something stupid to tick off their Uncle.
"He thinks he needs to know my business on why I needed to make an extra key. So, I simply took his key and told him he can't use my cabin anymore. I'm sure I'll get a call somewhere down the line with him apologizing, though I don't intend to give him a key again." Rowan didn't deal with his sister poking in his business so he wasn't going to deal with his nephew either.
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Also in the replies of the Steph concept art on twitter announcing she was gonna be in a new project at DC (posted by Travis Mercer), there were at least 3 comments saying "will Tim be there?" I don't care how hard you ship timsteph I'm exploding you with my eyeballs if you do that on my girls post again
#ramblings of a lunatic#taking a step back to acknowledge that my stanning may be getting overzealous#but then again I'm not in ppls quotes or replies I'm vagueing on an entirely different website with no relevant tags. it could be worse#anyway I know tims had it rough these past couple of months ever since zdarsky shifted focus of the batman title to have less tim#but it still feels. idk. just a wee bit uninspired to act like steph can't go two steps without tim being behind her#im ngl i like timsteph when they're cute but timsteph twitter has been. pissing me off a tad lately#the refusal to acknowledge the sexism in dixons robin run and how it impacts stephs writing and their relationships writing#the refusal to acknowledge tims occasional condescension and hypocrisy when it comes to stephs vigilantism#seemingly only wanting her to be spoiler when he wants her around and telling her to give it up most of the time#also the constant disrespect of stephs batgirl era on there weirdly enough?#I've harped on about this on main and in drafts but despite it's flaws it's a good turn for stephs character#she's the focus she gets development (an upward trajectory! which had previously been unheard of for her! bc she did have flaws as spoiler-#-its just that both writers and characters alike seemed to arbitrarily decide she didn't have the capacity to grow past them! but she did!)#hell i saw a BIZARRE take today i just have to bitch about#which was them saying that Batgirl was a ''heteronormative mask'' steph put on#with spoiler being her more authentic self (and this being paralleled to gender expression with stephs isolation from the batfam as spoiler-#-showing how she ''wasnt like them'')#which. I'm not denying you the view that spoiler has a certain genderific swag to her but the needless dragging of her batgirl persona#steph got treated badly as spoiler bc she was A Girl. it's genuinely that simple dixon felt batman and robin would never stand for a girl-#-running around doing the things they did and would need to chivalrously stop her. he's gone on record saying this#she's constantly getting belittled by mostly men (cass also dismisses her but it feels distinctly less gendered)#and in the end it's barbara who learns to give steph a second chance despite her mistakes and they have a positive relationship#something ppl are quick to dismiss as being in and of itself sexist bc they're pairing the two girls off together#as if batgirl isn't a legacy and as if babs and steph don't have parallels in their resilience and refusal to accept when ppl tell them no#for better and for worse!!#like. idk how you took the strongest feminist element in that comic (bc there are elements of sexism here and there! 2009 n all)#and somehow turn it into ''heteronormativity'' YOU PPL ARE JUST SAYING WORDS AT THIS POINT!!!#anyway. someone take away my internet access
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𝒩ot a bet﹕hyung line
𝑒nhypen x fem!reader ⚹ cw: each member ranges from 5-1k wc, fluff, lowercase intended, they swear, crying, uh someone kneels, not proud w heejake's 😞, not proofread ( lmk if i missed something! )
sypnosis : upon learning that you were merely the stake in a bet, they wasted no time in mending your relationship.
part one !
★ LEE HEESEUNG ( 0.8k wc )
"y/n wait!"
heeseung's voice only made you walk faster. you didn't want to humiliate yourself further by stopping and talking to him. all you wanted to do now was to just march out of the school, go home, lock yourself in your room and maybe eat a tub of ice cream while you ugly cry yourself to sleep.
"y/n, please." heeseung pleaded, taking your elbow in his grasp as he spun you around and pulling you closer to the point you can feel his breath on fanning your nose.
he looked at you pleadingly. "it's okay," you managed to say in a shaky voice. "i understand, you can all laugh at me all you want now-" he shook his head, "it's okay really!" you added, pursing your lips.
"i just want to be left alone now okay?" and even if he knew you didn't mean just 'now.' he'll respect your wishes and let you go, but he won't give up.
heeseung watched you walk away from him with a heavy heart, wanting nothing but to just explain everything to you before it was too late. he couldn't lose you, not like this.
when he couldn't see your figure anymore, he messily messed his hair and made his way back to the gym eager to teach a guy how to not spit nonsense.
it's been a week since that happened and a week since he's seen you in the school. he asked some of your classmates and club members but all he received were nasty glares and short cold answers. what happened between the two of you spread like wild fire the following day you walked away from him. everyone knew you were kind of a nerd, but they also knew you were a complete angel and had a heart soft as a pillow.
they also knew that betting on a person's feeling isn't exactly it. — more under the cut!
so throughout that week too, his popularity decreased day by day. he used to receive heart eyes on the hallways and joyful 'good morning, heeseung!'s by random students, now all he received were judgemental glances and they avoided him like a plague, scared to be the next target of a cruel bet.
he didn't care though, all he cared about was your wellbeing. it's been a week and you've still yet to show up to class, so imagine his surprise when you suddenly walk in to the room with your usual hair do, your bag slung over on your shoulder and your glasses almost falling off your nose bridge.
he sat up straighter, gulping as his eyes followed your every move. he could feel hear heart beating louder, as if it was calling for you, desperate to be near you again.
he needed to fix this, asap.
it felt like forever before heeseung heard the bell ring. as soon as he heard the annoying sound, he messily packed up his things and ran after you.
"y/n!" your forearm was then again grabbed by him. although this time, he turned you slowly. heeseung silently admired your face. he missed you so much.
"let me explain, please. it's not what you think. i promise." he whispered, vulnerability in his tone. the simple nod you gave was his signal to interlace his fingers with yours as he looked for an empty room.
you ignored the looks everyone threw your way, either worried and judging. all you could focus on was his warm hand on yours and how you missed it so much, you didn't even realize you both were now inside an empty classroom.
"there was no bet." you furrowed your brows, looking at him with mixed confusion and frustration. "i promise, there was no bet."
"why would they say that then?"
"i don't know, but i promise there's no bet. throughout the months we've been together everything i've said was real." he said, desperate.
heeseung stepped closer.
"what i felt for you was real," he scrambled to get his phone from his pocket, opening his messages app. "you can go through my phone all you want, ask any of my friends-" you raised a brow.
"not those friends! i mean sunghoon, jay, jungwon.. you know." your raised brow made him sputter. "to be completely honest, they've been ignoring me after they heard about what happened.."
you looked at him hesitantly as you scrolled through his messages with shaking hands. you scrolled for so long, you even reached to the messages months before you both got together.
he didn't have any messages to his basketball team group chat unless it was announcements from his coach. the group chat with his actual friends were only filled with his pining over 'the girl on the back of his biology class.'
"heeseung.."
"there's no bet, baby. i'd never do that to anyone." he whispered, stepping closer. "i can't lose you like this.. i love you."
you sniffled as you came crashing on his chest, letting tears fall again. heeseung immediately wrapped his arms around you, sighing in relief as he finally have you back in his arms.
"i was so worried baby." he mumbled, kissing your head.
"i love you forever. i'll kill everyone who tries to get in between us again," heeseung pulled you closer if it was even possible.
"and if they do, i'll make sure to fix everything even if it means the whole world would hate me."
★ PARK JONGSEONG ( 1.0k wc )
jay was confused.
the both of you had a very well planned date tonight, so he was utterly puzzled to see that you weren't responding to his messages. for heaven's sake, you didn't even read his messages, he was just left in delivered.
he had tried calling multiple times but was only met with your automated voice telling him to leave a voice message. it came to the point that he had enough and decided to drive to your house.
throughout the drive, jay wondered what could've happened. he couldn't think of anything that would make you upset like this, he hoped that you just fell asleep and forgot to have your alarm on.
walking up the porch of your house, jay rang the doorbell and was met with your mom who opened the door with furrowed brows when she laid her eyes on him.
"good afternoon mrs. l/n, is y/n home?" your mother's frown deepened, hesitantly looking at the stairs behind her before looking back at him. "i'm sorry jay, she said she doesn't want to see you?"
that caused jay to furrow his brows as well. "wha- may i ask why?"
"i was hoping you'd tell me." if jay was confused a while ago, he was even more confused now and frustrated.
"can i see her, please?" he pleads, the older woman hesitantly opened the door wider to invite him in, and before he could ascend up the stairs, your mom stopped him.
"jay.." he looked back. "i don't know what happened to you both but take it easy on her, alright? she's been crying, i can tell." jay gulped and only nodded, sending your mom a pursed smile.
he knocked on your bedroom door, when no response came, he tried to turn the knob and was thankful that it wasn't locked.
jay slowly opened your door, seeing you curled on one corner of your bed as your body shook from your sobs you tried to keep silent.
he could feel his heart break at the sight. stepping a foot inside the room, he mentally cursed at himself when he accidentally bumped on to your mirror causing your head to shoot up in alarm at the sound.
your already glassy eyes was once again filled with tears as your eyes met his. jay barely dodged the pillow you threw at him, screaming at him to "go away and never show your face to me again."
jay frowned and came closer until he was sat on the edge of your bed, ignoring the words you just shouted at him.
"baby.. what's- what's wrong?" he asked, attempting to hold your hand but you retracted it and tried to throw another pillow at him. he swiftly caught it and brought it back down gently beside you.
"was it worth the one month of free car wash?" you spat through hiccups. jay stayed silent, confused.
"of course it probably was, that's what you do right?" the sight of your swollen and red face kept breaking his heart, he was still confused on what you were talking about but he'll let you talk.
this way he knew how he'd make things better.
"make me fall in love with you in exchange of a month's free of car wash.." you muttered, your eyes still boring on to his. at your words, it finally clicked. "..am i really worth just that much?" another sob.
right, he had forgotten to end the call when his 'friend' came barging into his apartment. you had probably heard all the nonsense the guy sputtered.. but surely you must've heard the way he defended your relationship and swore at that him too?
"i thought.. high school days were done jay. please just leave me alone now. you got what you want." jay shook his head, coming closer and pulling your body to his.
he wrapped his arms around you, his hand rubbing your back as you sobbed hard. he didn't try stopping you when he felt your weak punches that you threw at his chest, his own tears clouding his vision but he didn't dare make them fall.
"you got it all wrong, baby." he whispered, rubbing your nape as your face now rested against the crook of his neck. he ignored the wetness there. "i'm guessing you overheard the conversation with sungjae?"
you nodded, now calmer but not pulling away.
"did you also hear the way i told him to drop the stupid bet he kept insisting to happen? the way i kicked him out of my apartment?" you stayed silent, only sniffling as a response.
jay sighed, wrapping his arm around your waist tighter and pulling you closer.
"the whole campus knows sungjae's an asshole, baby. he was a jerk who thought that being a dick to others were entertaining, and i guess that's why i was like that back in high school.. i wanted to be accepted in their group."
"but we're in college now, i left that group but somehow sungjae's here and is pathetically still stuck in the past." he pulled your face from his neck, cupping your cheek and wiping away your tears.
"i've loved you since high school.. and there's no bet, baby. the moment he had found out i was dating you, he kept bringing up a bet about how long we would last.. but i always shut him out, told him to cut it out and that there will be no bet happening, especially if you're the one getting betted on."
new fresh tears come rolling down your cheek, this time they were tears of relief. glad to know that everything was real, that you weren't just a toy.
"you promise you'll cut him off starting now?" you whispered, looking at him with big glassy eyes.
"i've cut him since high school, y/n. it's him who's keep clinging to me. but i promise he won't be saying anything about the both of us anymore." jay pressed your foreheads together, pressing a soft peck on your lips.
"you will forever be the prettiest and the only one i'll ever love this much in this world, my baby."
★ SIM JAEYUN ( 0.5k wc )
jake watched you run away in confusion, staring at the laughing crowd and turning to look at your locker only to be met with the note he has been telling everyone to throw away.
he angrily took it from your locker, ripping the small paper into pieces. "how many times have i told you to cut this shit out? do you want me to report all of you for harassment and bullying?" he raised his voice at the crowd who had stopped their laughter.
"that's what i thought." he frowned, pushing past them and running after you.
jake knew what everyone was doing the moment it spread that he was dating you. he had received dms telling him he could do better and if he was merely toying with your feelings.
he had told them countless times to drop it, even going far as to almost punch the person who has created the bets if it wasn't for sunoo holding him back. he had hoped that it wouldn't reach you. it was another one of his reasons on why he always went to school earlier, just in case it was placed on your locker. unfortunately, you were earlier than him today.
it's not like he was tolerating it, he had tried countless times to report it but they'd only say it was probably only for fun and he shouldn't take jokes seriously.
but jokes were meant to be funny, right?
jake opened the door that lead to the rooftop slowly, peeking his head to look if you were there. to his luck, you were.
your back faced him while your bag was placed down carelessly beside your feet. jake approached slowly, not wanting to overwhelm you further.
"baby?" he mumbled loud enough for you to hear. you turned your head towards him, showing him your tear stained cheeks. "oh, y/n." he sighed and held your cheeks, wiping away the salty liquid off your precious face.
"jake.. why are you dating me, of all people?" you ask through tears, avoiding his eyes.
jake's eyes softened, he dated you because you were different from everyone who wanted to be like the everyone else, did that make sense? you were your own person, you didn't care about social status, wealth, his circle of friends, and whether someone was good looking or not. you were soft hearted, to the point that you had let others take advantage of that leading them to walking all over you.
and he hated that.
"why not you?" he said softly, tilting your chin up so that you could meet his eyes. "you're everything i've ever needed."
"you can tell the truth." you mutter, looking at jake. his mouth formed a pout, heart broken at the way you had so little love for yourself.
"i am telling the truth, baby." he whispers, taking your hands and placing them on his face before putting his own hands back on yours. "everything is a joke to them when i'm involved." you whisper, ignoring the way your voice broke.
"we don't care about what they think, they're all just jealous. everything we've been through and what i feel for you are real, no jokes." he smiled, pulling you closer to him.
"you promise?"
"baby i'd choose you over anyone in this world over and over again until the heavens above is tired of me."
★ PARK SUNGHOON (0.7k wc)
sunghoon frowned, confused and hurt. he wanted to fix whatever happened, so he took his phone from the couch and his car keys from the wooden bowl in his foyer.
it was when he was in the elevator that he noticed his phone was open. his breath hitched, finally knowing the reason for your departure and choice of words. sunghoon quickly left the group chat and started dialing your number.
it was true that you were a bet. were. he didn't even know why he agreed, maybe because he wanted so badly to fit in. he didn't want a repeat of middle school, so instead of being the bullied and made fun of, he was now the one doing those to others. he wasn't proud of it at the slightest.
that doesn't excuse his actions though. the longer he spent time with you, the deeper he fell. sunghoon never planned for you to find out this way, he already had a plan. first he had to get rid of his 'friends', tell you everything then ask you if you still wanted him to meet your parents.
guilt always ate him alive whenever you would stay over and sleep by his side. he couldn't bring himself to meet your family knowing he hasn't told you everything and the truth.
he felt like his heart would jump out of his chest as he stood infront of the door of your house. if he died tonight on the hands of either your father or older brother, he'd welcome death with open arms.
i deserve it.
he audibly gulped when the door opened, revealing.. you. the way your brows furrowed at the sight of him tightened his chest. he stopped you before you could even close the door on him.
"y/n please, let me explain everything.. o-okay?" the way his voice cracked and the unshed tears in his eyes almost made you give in, but upon remembering what you've read, the anger in you was back.
"explain what?" you spat, turning to look over your shoulder before back at him. "that all those months i've spent loving you," you pointed at him harshly. "was just for entertainment? tell me, what was in it for you, huh?"
sunghoon shook his head, the tears now flowing down his pale cheeks. "no, no! i promise, please i love you." he reached out but you stepped back, biting your lip as you held back the tears.
"just.. leave me alone sunghoon," he felt his heart crack even more. "you've had your fun, you can laugh about i all you want now." you were taken aback when he knelt infront of you, hugging your waist as he sobbed.
"what the-" sunghoon tightened his grip on you, muttering along the words of 'im sorry', 'never meant to be like this', and something along the lines of regretting something.
"sunghoon- oh my god." you groaned as you descended to face him. "please, i didn't mean to. i-" he hiccuped, "i'm sorry, i know it was stupid and there's no reason for me to accept the bet- but i just wanted to fit in. i wanted them to take me as a part of their circle- but, but i soon realized that it was stupid." he looked at you with swollen eyes, desperation swam in his dark irises.
"because i realized that hurting you isn't worth being a part of their asshole group. it started with a bet, i admit, but i truly love you, please believe me." a sob made its way out his throat as he clung into you, his arms circling your neck. "it wasn't a lie whenever i said i'd meet your parents, i was constantly trying to get rid of them first before i met your family, i didn't want to meet them until i've told you the complete truth."
your own tears descended down your cheeks, your heart hurting for yourself and sunghoon. you stayed on the floor wrapped around each other for a moment before you both helped each other up to your feet, he looked at you intensely with red bloodshot eyes. "i'm sorry, i understand if you don't want anything to do with me anymore."
"i understand hoon," you whispered, bringing your hands to cup his face. "but you have to understand too that i can't trust you fully right up again." he nodded, putting his own hands on yours as he kissed your palms.
"i know.. and i'll spent the rest of my life earning it again. i love you."
— ౨ৎ thank u for tuning in ! @j-jinxee @slp23 @unsurereader @heelovesmeknot @sunshine-skz @hoondrop @jooniesbears-blog @jordan1024 @heeswif3y @outroherrr @harufluff @cheeseball0 @yjwluver @woofie-nctzen-fanarts @itjengirl @emiliasstuffs-blog @isa942572 @lufcxx @alienqbrain @woniebae @baekxo07 @titttuaf @chuuswifereal @kyanmeai @isabellah29 @deezbin @skzenhalove @eneiyri @a4ruby @saxytalks @denleave1088 @imdelulu @powerpuffstuts @hoonatic @dollydigital @chososloverfr @dummyf @chanyeolchannie @oddracha @wonwushu @strawberrynull @ceciloveshee @loumin908 @cexg68 @grassbutneo @gardenwons @pag-yerin @bora04 @iluvnikism @jellymiki
— i couldn't tag those who's usernames aren't in bold :(
#enhypen x reader#enha x reader#enhypen#enhypen angst#enha fluff#enhypen fanfiction#enhypen fluff#enhypen imagines#sunghoon angst#sunghoon imagines#sunghoon fluff#heeseung x reader#heeseung angst#heeseung fluff#jake sim x reader#sim jake x reader#jake angst#jake fluff#jaeyun fluff#sim jaeyun angst#jongseong x reader#jay x reader#jay angst#jongseong angst#jongseong fluff#sunghoon x reader#sunghoon#jake x reader#enhypen smau#sunghoon smau
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