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#it's not perfect because i tried SO many different shades and brushes
luvmila444 · 2 months
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can u make a story where chris takes reader on a shopping spree in victoria secret and he watches her try on underwear sets in the fitting room until he can’t take it anymore and fucks her! ☺️☺️
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Victoria’s Secret- C.S
…………………………………………….. ☆ ★ ………………………………………………
Chris sturniolo x fmreader
summary: going on a shopping spree takes an unexpected but please try turn as chris becomes eager with lust after seeing you in a new set on lingerie.
content warning: SMUT; p in v; unprotected sex (stay safe!); cumming inside; mirror sex; dom chris; fingering; public (kinda?); cum eating; ass slapping; no use of y/n; ‘ma’ nickname is used
word count: 1.6k words
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Considering chris has almost completely destroyed and ripped apart every good piece of lingerie you have owned, you were always desperate to buy new pairs. This was never an issue for you though because the way wearing sexy lingerie made you feel so confident and hot and was always worth it, along with the absolute awe stuck state that was Christopher Owen Sturniolo when he saw you all dressed up pretty and slutty for him. 
You had considered making this a surprise for your boyfriend but chris was quick with stuff like this and had almost begged to come with you to pick out his favourite pairs of underwear on you. You could almost never say no to him so of course he came along with you knowing he would pay for everything. 
You were in the dressing room of Victoria Secret trying on the many pairs of scandalous and revealing pieces as possible. When it came to a beautiful pink set you had been dying to get after seeing it in the catalogue, you had been almost too eager to put it on. However, the clasps at the back were different and now you had tried everything you could to attach the back of the bra, but it just would not come together. Chris’s was right outside practically on the edge of his seat waiting to see each of the sets, he wouldn’t mind helping you put this one together…would he?
“Fuck…Chris, could you help me in here for a second, please?” You asked so sweetly it was almost like honey dripping from your lips and pouring into the desperate boy's ear. He didn’t even register himself standing and making his way to the dressing room that you had concealed yourself in.
 Stepping inside, chris seeing you almost completely naked for him, yet concealed in such beautifully expensive fabric. You looked so perfect, like something right out of the magazines. The shade of pink you wore complemented your skin tone so nicely, bringing out the blush on your cheeks from the shyness you had felt from Chris’s powerful and dominant stare. He loved the image before him. You stood facing the mirror, your hair over one shoulder to expose your bare back and the unclasped bra, which you gripped in your fingers, awaiting Chris’s help. He couldn't take his eyes off your body in the reflection. 
His hands reached down and pulled together the clasp slowly, encasing your breasts in the expensive fabric.
"Thank you." you brushed down the sides of the body, adjusting it into place to allow it to become more comfortable. "What do you think?" Looking up at Chris behind you through the reflection. His hands slid up over your ass, up your sides, resting on your breasts to give them a squeeze.
 "I think..." he leaned down to run his hands back over your curves again, "I'm about to rip this to shreds and have my way with you."
You smiled through the mirror, shaking your head at him. "Oh, stop. We're in public. Seriously, what do you think of the set?"
A wicked and playful smirk spread across his face as his hands fell on your hips. He fiddled with the sides of your pink lace panties teasingly feeling your sides over the fabric. He shoved his hand into the front of them, his large fingers instantly finding your clit. He stroked over it in slow circles, watching your face contort in the reflection. Chris’s other hand found its way back up to your chest, reaching in to grab a handful of your breast.
Feeling moisture pool between your folds, he dug deeper between your legs, shoving two fingers inside of you. You yelped at the feeling. "Now, now, ma, you have to be quiet if we're going to do this." He whispered in his playful voice. You bit her lip, nodding at him eagerly in response.
His fingers pushed further into you, finding their home pressed against her most sensitive spot. You leaned back to his chest as he crouched forward to accommodate for their height difference.
You looked like you were being tortured, the way your face scrunched up as he jabbed into her. He felt you starting to drip onto his palm and your walls clench.
Pulling his fingers from you abruptly, he spun you around by your shoulders to face him. Looking down at your cleavage, he grew angry by the fabric covering you from him. He grasped the part in which had covered your beautiful tits from him and yanked in open, ripping the bra in half. "Chris." you cried, jaw slack by the shock of what he just did.
"It's a fucking piece of material. I'll pay for it." He twisted her back around to face the mirror, now enjoying the view so much more. Picking up his movements, you let out a needy sigh. "Now, be a good girl for me and cum."
"I will." You whispered in a pathetically whiney voice. "Just don't stop. Please."
You felt his cock, as hard as possible pressed against your ass. You rubbed back onto it, eliciting a low breath to escape from his lips. "Ahh fuck, ma." Were Chris’s last words before pulling your underwear to the side, listening to the seem tear, and fully enter you from behind. You haven’t even seen or heard him get his cock out, but he must have been fast from how desperate and eager he had seemed after he say you.
He gripped your waist tightly and he watched you both in the large mirror of the dressing room. He pounded into you relentlessly watching as your perfectly carved ass bounced of of him. 
Chris sent a light quiet slap to your ass cheek and you felt like you were in literal heaven. Your head fell back onto his shoulder, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you gripped his arms that held you close to him. 
“No ma, look me in the eyes while I’m fucking you,” he said in your ear so low that nobody else would hear. Your mouth fell open, awaiting a loud moan which was quickly muffled by Chris’s hand.
Your ass continued to bounce on his dick, as chris loved his mouth from your ear to the side of your neck, beginning to suck harshly at your delicate skin, while still remaining eye contact in the mirror in front of you.
“Fuck, chris baby, i-im gonna cum…f-fuck,” your words although still slightly muffled were perfectly clear to chris while he felt you clenching and tightening around him. You struggled to hold your eyes open as Chris’s hand moved up from your waist to your exposed tit and began to play with your nipples.
"Cum. Now." He had stated so clearly as he pinched your sensitive bud.
You did. Instantly. That was your breaking point. You squeezed him tight, gushing down on his cock, dripping over him. He kept his grip tight over her breast to hold you up while she wiggled up against him this now making chris reach his climax as well, shooting hot spurts of his cum into you. You stared at him through the mirror, the sight of him alone helping her along and intensifying your climax. You bit down on her lip as chris removed his hand to muffle her moan that still lingered on your lips, but a small one slipped out but it was too quiet for anyone around you two to hear. You both rode out your orgasms together, continuing to remain under each others intense stare. Panting heavily as you came down, he slipped his cock from your pussy and released his tight hold on you. Blinking through your haze, you leaned up against the wall, body weakened from your intense release.
Chris stood back admiring his work. He lifted his hand to his mouth, covered in the sheen of you cum which he had wiped from your sensitive folds. He licked each finger and his palm, lapping up any taste of you he could get. His eyes rolled back at the taste. His favorite. The one he couldn't get off his mind all morning while he tried to work in a room full of his brothers.
"Did that answer your question about the set?"
You let out a laugh, running your fingers through your hair. "I'll need another one now that this one is destroyed." Pulling the shreds of fabric off your shoulders.
You're both piled up everything she wanted and took it to the register after getting dressed back into your regular clothes. The cashier gladly rung everything up, pleased by your haul of clothing. Bralettes, corsets, garters. All of it to your taste of course. 
 At the end of the transaction Chris remembered the wad of fabric in his hand.
"This too." He dropped it onto the counter, staring smirking at the woman behind it, daring her to question him.
You turned pinker than the set placed infront of you when she stared down at the rumpled piece of lace. She felt bad for Chris' unapologetic behaviour, but this was very usual for him to flaunt you and the work he had done infront of everyone.
Without saying a word, she rang up the shreds of the dress. Swiping the sleek black card from Chris’s Prada wallet, she thanked you, mainly chris who had payed for everything, for your business and sent you on your way.
The second your feet hit the sidewalk; you busted out laughing at the interaction. She figured the poor lady would be scarred for a while over it. Falling into Chris’s side as you both giggled to each other. 
Fuck, you loved your days spent with Chris
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A/n: i have been meaning to write this for literally the longest time ever (since i saw the request)!! I loved this idea so much but was just sop busy that i havent written in agesssss!! Pls send more requests because i loved writing this .
Ily my angels 💞
Tag list: @gamermattsgf @lovingmattysposts @mattsrootbeer @myl0vef0rj0hnny @luv4kozume @liz-stxrn @mattestrella @strawberrysturniolo @strniohoeee @itzdarling @skyslondon @3iysian @robins-scoop @chrizz333 @sstvrnioloo @chrizz333 @sturnioloenthusiast @mattslolita@annamcdonalds67 @mixvchelle
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peachybeom · 1 year
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hickeys ♡
slight suggestive
beomgyu x reader
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You stared intensely at the empty bottle of concealer in your hand, as if your continuous gaze would magically refill the product which was now hollowed out inside it.
Defeated, you set down the bottle on the slab and inspected yourself in the large mirror situated in front of you.
You were dressed in a strapless black dress, for which you had saved up for almost an entire month.
Your makeup was light but sophisticated and hair rested gently on your shoulders in long beachy curls.
This look was as admirable as you can present yourself to be, and you were satisfied with it- until your eyes again travelled to the giant reddish blue bruise imprinted firmly on your neck.
You cursed your luck, when you found out that you had run out of the concealer, one you usually used often to cover these love bites, because everything else in your makeup kit just seemed not to be doing the trick.
You tried everything-using three different shades of foundation, excessively rubbing your skin with a toothbrush, even spraying your hair stiff to hide the sore spot but nothing seemed to be working.
You let out an irritated scream and slammed your hands loudly on your vanity.
Today was one of the most important day in your and Beomgyu’s relationship. You two had been going out for almost an year and Beomgyu’s parents had invited you to their yearly business celebratory dinner.
You knew this dinner was a big deal because it was supposed to be attended by important people along with family, the higher ups who held valuable assets in Choi Businesses so naturally you had planned well in advance, picking out your dress weeks ago, practicing civil conversations one could have with their boyfriend’s parents again and again in your head so you could leave a good impression on them.
“Is everything alright babe?” Beomgyu asked in a concerned tone.
You turned to look at your boyfriend and your breath almost got caught up in your throat.
He was still in the middle of getting dressed, hair slicked back neatly and shirt buttoned up halfway through the top.
Choi Beomgyu screamed perfection, without even trying.
You quickly brought yourself back to reality and scowled at him.
“This is your fault,” You said pointing at the hickey now almost turning red.
It was indeed his fault. Last night Beomgyu acted unusually needy and demanded attention. One too many glasses of wine later you both found yourselves on the couch exploring every crook and crevices of each other’s body while a marvel movie played out in the background softly.
Beomgyu stepped closer, and bent slightly almost closing the gap between the two of you.
“Wha-what are you doing?” You stuttered at the sudden proximity.
“Hmm I think I could have done better,” Beomgyu responded in an amused tone, touching your neck gently.
“Beomgyu!” You slapped his arm and pointed at the clear bottle placed at the side of your table.
“I ran out of the concealer and now I have no idea how to cover this up, I’ve tried doing everything-oh my God we only have an hour and half left!” You panicked burying your face in your hands, this was not how you planned to start your evening.
“Hey hey hey it’s fine we will figure something out,” Beomgyu said holding your hand in his, biting back a smile.
The truth was that you were making a big fuss of the party. Though today was an important day, Beomgyu knew that his parents would adore you as soon as they met you.
They wouldn’t mind if you didn’t act perfect- nobody would but still he let you plan and plot every move for tonight just because he thought you looked cute doing it.
“Let’s try looking up on the internet yeah?” Beomgyu said in an attempt to calm you down.
After a few minutes, there you both sat on the floor of the bedroom, makeup brushes and palettes scattered everywhere in the room.
“How about we cover it up with a band aid?” Your boyfriend suggested as he scrolled through his phone searching for remedies on hiding hickeys- his search history similar to a teenage girl who just spent the night at her crush’s house for the first time.
“No that would look too odd,” You responded pouting.
“You know what I think I should just give up and change into something else, even though this dress costed a fortune,” You continued in a disappointed tone.
“No I found something! wait a minute,” Beomgyu exclaimed loudly before getting up and leaving the room hurriedly.
After a while Beomgyu returned with an ice filled bowl and sat down next to you.
“Tilt your head,” He ordered.
You carefully obliged and closed your eyes involuntarily when the small block of ice came in contact with your skin.
“I’m supposed to rub it on the hickey for a few minutes and it will disappear,” Beomgyu explained, but you hardly paid attention because the sensation of the ice mixed along with his breath on neck for even just a second had you on cloud nine.
A few minutes would be torture.
Beomgyu seemed to have caught on your reaction and decided to tease you further.
He purposely added another ice cube between his fingers and your neck and applied slight pressure causing it to melt faster.
“Almost done, just a little more,” He whispered, lips grazing your ear seductively.
You bit your tongue in response holding back your breathe successfully.
“Or we can speed it up a bit,” Beomgyu moved closer to your neck and gently licked the droplets of water forming just on top of your hickey.
“Oh my god,” You let out breathy moan, tightening your grip on the chair next to you.
“You don’t want me to stop, do you Y/N?” Beomgyu smirked as he moved his lips upwards to nibble at your ear.
You tried to reason with yourself, reaching out for Beomgyu’s hand which was now slowly making its way towards your cleavage. He applied a bit more pressure pressing the now melted cube of ice to your hot skin, this caused you to squeak.
“G-gyu...”
He was right, you couldn’t ask him to stop, you won’t ask him to stop. Maybe if you were in the right state of mind you would, you both had to leave in an hour and neither one of you were close to being ready- but to hell with it, you thought as you grabbed Beomgyu by his shirt collar.
“No don’t stop,” You pleaded, eyes filled with desperation.
This was enough of a response for Beomgyu to pull you towards him and hurriedly pull down the zip of your newly bought dress.
You were late to the party- fashionably late, as Beomgyu described it.
But you had a good time. With Beomgyu by your side, you seemed to have bonded well with both of his parents.
His mother adored you, continuously passing lovely comments, few directed especially at the slick turtleneck dress you were wearing that night.
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al-of-the-stars · 28 days
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I was wondering if you're okay writing an Angel Dust. M!Reader. More specifically Drag Queen Angel Dust. A one-shot if perfect, but you can do whatever you want. You can do this as smut or fluff, it doesn't matter! Have a great rest of your day!!
"See me after the show"
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A/n: I was planning to make this yesterday but I'm not familiar with drag and had to do research so here it is! It took me a while but I'm not sure if I got anything wrong or not so if I did, please let me know and I hope you enjoy!
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You were a renowned makeup artist in hell. Your name was plastered across billboards, celebrities lined up at your door to hire you. The moment you opened shop again after your job on a movie set was over, the first client to come in was one you never expected. You had worked with many demons before, from hellborns to sinners, even some overlords, but you had always wanted to work with a certain spider demon. Angel Dust didn't usually seek makeup artists and preferred to do it himself. This was a very rare occurrence and you were basically dying of joy. “Hello, welcome! I'll be with you in just a moment,” you said while organizing the last of your brushes. You tried to calm yourself down and finally made your way over to the waiting area to greet your newest client. He was even more beautiful in real life. You shook the thoughts out of your head. You had to keep things professional. As you led Angel Dust to the vanity, you guys made decent conversation. Turns out, the reason he chose to come to your makeup salon was because he had a big show coming up and wanted to make an appointment with someone who could give him a look that would leave the audience awestruck. Who better to go to for such an important task than the most well known artist in all of hell? You guys set up the appointment and when you finally got home, you squealed like a middle schooler who just got his first crush. When the day arrived, you went backstage to meet Angel 2 hours before he was up on stage to do his makeup. When you saw him, he was fixing up his dress. It was sparkly and pink with heart motifs all over it. He looked stunning. While you were lost in thought, he spotted you and waved you over.
“Hey, sweetheart!” Your heart fluttered at the name. He called everyone something along those lines so it shouldn't have really mattered too much but the way he said it, you couldn't help but feel that this time it was a bit different. You went over to the vanity where he sat and set up your supplies. “So just to make sure, you want something that matches the colors and overall vibe of your outfit, correct?” You asked, taking out the right brushes for the look you had planned.
“Yep,” you started on the eyeshadow, a bright, pigmented pink shade that you then added small rhinestones and glitter to to make it stand out. You guys just kept talking and making pleasant conversation until you were finally done. He looked absolutely stunning. You realized how close you had been to him this entire time and you felt the blood rush to your face as you spun his chair around to face the mirror.
“So what do you think?”
“It's perfect! Thanks, doll!” He responded, looking in the mirror gleefully. There was still some time left until he had to be on stage so you guys just sat there and talked. Time just flew by and then, Angel was notified that he had 5 minutes until he was on stage. He got up to get closer to the curtain.
“Meet me after the show, darling,” he said with a wink before going on stage, leaving you speechless.
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deepspacedukat · 1 year
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Begin Again - Part 6
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I’ve been enjoying writing this waaayyyy too much. Koss is just such a perfect target for teasing and...yep. Anyway, enjoy!
Part 1 here. Part 2 here. Part 3 here. Part 4 here. Part 5 here.
Cross-posted to AO3 here.
~*~
Koss (ST:ENT) x Reader
[A/N: This is smut adjacent with mentions of innuendo, so 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI!!!]
Warnings: Mutual pining, mild innuendo, discussion of a wet dream, ozh’esta (Vulcan finger kiss), public flirting Vulcan style, Soval gives The Pon Farr Talk, one of the two idiots begins to put two and two together.
~*~
I really should have taken Koss’s robe back to him the next day. That would have been the logical, polite thing to do, but I didn’t. The night he’d lent it to me, I fell asleep wearing it. I didn’t mean to, really I didn’t. I laid down - just for a few minutes to attempt to process what had happened between us - and the comforting, familiar scent of my neighbor on his robe lulled me to sleep before I could even consider taking it off.
Embarrassingly, even my dreams weren’t free of his influence. My subconscious mind had latched onto the sensation of Koss sweeping me up in his arms as if I weighed nothing at all. The soothing sturdiness of his warm, strong chest against my bare skin and the heady realization that we were entirely nude while in such close proximity had made my head spin in the moment. In my dreams, that became the main focus.
Images of impassioned kisses and breathy moans against burning skin flashed through my mind, making for a rather rude awakening by my morning alarm. Waking up hot and bothered was one thing, but to do it while wrapped in Koss’s robe? That felt entirely scandalous.
My morning routine was a blur that day, and when I got to the Embassy to start my shift, I realized I’d tossed Koss’s robe on over my uniform tunic instead of my own. Leaving it draped over my chair in my office, I tried to get through the day without anyone being the wiser about my little mix-up. Soval even caught sight of it once, but if he recognized the robe as Koss’s, he didn’t give any indication of it.
One Embassy employee must not have liked my perfume, though. He gave a little sniff when we were in the lift together, and he promptly turned a rather dark shade of green as he averted his gaze. Huh. Oh well. That wasn’t the weirdest thing to happen to me. Making a mental note to wear a different perfume on my next shift, I brushed that off and got on with my day.
A few evenings later, I prepared to give the borrowed robe back to my neighbor. There had been several opportunities to return it to him, but...well, I just couldn’t seem to bring myself to do it. I was almost embarrassed that I’d waited so long. After all, it wasn’t as if Koss was my partner. How could I excuse my behavior? Surely it would seem illogical to a Vulcan if I said ‘I kept your robe a little longer than I should have because your scent relaxes me.’ That would only make Koss think I was some kind of creep.
The evening that I was determined to return it to him, I washed it by hand and took the time to examine the fabric more closely. The deep, brown cloth was soft and well-worn. Koss had clearly spent many hours nestled in its warm embrace. There were many places along the robe’s length where Koss had mended tears and holes, but the bottom hem near one of the corners was beginning to come undone. A small smile made itself at home on my lips at his attention to detail where he’d sewn the robe back together. He’d matched the stitching exactly.
Attention to detail seemed to be a common theme with him. Even when it came to our socializing, Koss always made sure that I was comfortable and that my needs were met. I really needed to find some way to thank him.
As I folded the worn material, I had an idea. Hurrying downstairs and over to Koss’s door, I took a deep breath and rang his door chime. Koss looked thoroughly surprised to see me smiling up at him when his door slid open.
“Hi! Sorry, am I bothering you?”
“I always welcome your presence, but you do not typically visit me in the afternoons. Is everything alright, ashaya?” He asked as he stepped aside to allow me into his home.
“Yeah, I’m fine, I promise. I just wanted to, um...” I stammered, but I trailed off as I caught sight of his living space. Memories from the last time I was here swept up to greet me, and I blinked in surprise as I realized that being here again felt like coming home. Noticing how long I’d been silent, I cleared my throat and turned to face Koss. “I remembered that I still had your robe, so I’m here to return it.”
“Thank you, but there was no rush, I assure you,” he said walking over to me and accepting the folded robe. “Was that...all you came here to do?”
“No, actually. I was wondering if you were familiar with any farmer’s markets around here?” At his look of confusion, I tried to clarify. “A place that sells fresh local produce.”
“Ah. Yes, I am. There is one not far from here. Why? Are you not receiving adequate food supplies?” He seemed utterly alarmed and protective at the prospect, but I placed a calming hand on his arm.
“I’m well-fed, I promise. When it comes to Vulcan produce, though, the variety offered by the Embassy provisional department is a little limited. I wanted to try my hand at a sort of fusion cuisine, but I can’t seem to find the right kind of fruit. I was hoping a local market might offer something I haven’t had the chance to experience yet,” I explained, and Koss relaxed substantially. Even if he could never feel the same way that I did, it was sweet how much he cared for his friends. “You said there was one nearby?”
“Yes, it is a short walk from here. I can escort you there tomorrow morning, if that is convenient.”
“That’s very sweet of you, but I’m sure I can find my way without you having to play tour guide. Surely you have better things to do?”
“It is no bother,” Koss said setting his robe aside and taking a step closer to me. “Besides, I would happily be your ‘tour guide’ if you’d allow me.”
Did he look hopeful or was I projecting my own emotions onto him?
“Alright, then. I accept your offer.” Koss nodded his head in approval just as a small thump came from the door at the back of his home. We both turned to see I’Tol sitting with his big, fluffy paw against the glass.
“Your introduction to him was not...entirely pleasant. Would you be comfortable if I allowed him inside? Or would you prefer that I wait until you depart?”
I looked over at him and smiled.
“Oh, he’s just a big teddy bear. Go on.” At my permission, Koss walked over to the door and slid it open, letting the big fluff inside. Much more sedately than our previous encounter, the sehlat walked over and flopped on his back in front of me again. As I knelt and rubbed his belly, Koss strode over to us and sat beside me.
“How odd. I’Tol never behaves this way with others, yet he has done so twice with you,” he murmured, and I looked over to find my neighbor already observing me closely. Blushing under his intense gaze, I looked back at his saber-toothed bear.
“Maybe he can tell that I’m good with animals,” I suggested, but Koss just slid a little closer to me. “On Earth, there are people who believe that pets, especially dogs, can instinctively tell good people from bad.”
“If that is true of sehlats, then you are undoubtedly an exceptional person,” Koss murmured. When I looked over at him, he was wearing an expression that was so open and full of kindness that my breath hitched in my throat. He really meant it.
With a rustle of fur, I’Tol stood and padded off to a large cushion at the side of the living space that appeared to be his bed, and Koss and I got to our feet.
“Thank you for letting me see him again. I’ll um...I’ll leave you in peace. See you tomorrow?”
Koss agreed and walked me to the door. As I made my way home, I wondered what that look of his had meant.
--
The next morning, I donned a set of lightweight robes for the trek to the marketplace. It turned out to be a shorter distance than I’d anticipated. How had I not found this place sooner?
What must have been dozens of stalls were set up with vendors selling produce and pieces of local craftsmanship. Vulcans of every shape, size, and color milled about examining various items and speaking quietly amongst themselves.
As Koss and I chatted and made our way through the crowd, something bounced off my leg with a little grunt. Looking down, I spotted a young girl looking up at me with wide eyes.
“Ni'droi'ik nar-tor,” she stammered as if she was afraid that I’d hurt her. I supposed that my ears didn’t help. Bumping into an alien in the middle of a Vulcan market must have been startling. Releasing Koss’s arm, I smiled and helped her carefully to her feet. Brushing a bit of dirt off her robe, I noted that she didn’t appear hurt, at least.
“T’Ria,” a voice called, and the little girl called back. A Vulcan woman made her way through the crowd as I stood straight again, and she glanced between myself and her child. The two exchanged a few quiet words in Vuhlkansu, and the mother gave me a small, respectful nod of her head. “Lesek, t’sai...osu.”
We returned her gesture and the two went about their business. When I looked back at Koss, he was examining me as if he was attempting to decipher a puzzle.
“Did I do something wrong?” My voice seemed to knock him back to reality.
“No. Not at all,” he said, but his voice sounded rougher than before.
Once we returned to our path through the stalls, we finally found the section that would hopefully yield the results I wanted: the fruit stalls. I didn’t recognize the majority of the fruit being displayed, so I quietly asked Koss what they were.
Several sounded intriguing, but it wasn’t until we reached a vendor selling little yellow i’su’ke berries that I knew I’d found what I was looking for. Koss described them as being tart, but pleasant if accompanying something sweet. The bright pink ones beside them were called g’teth berries, and they were, apparently naturally sweet.
Perfect.
Removing my hand from his arm to examine the fruit, I purchased just enough to make the surprise I was planning, plus a little extra. There was something to be said about having a little more than you needed when experimenting with a new recipe. Mistakes were bound to happen, after all.
Exchanging the correct amount of currency with the kindly vendor, I stowed the fruit in my shopping bag. When I turned back to where Koss had been standing only a moment before, he was nowhere to be seen. Glancing around, I spotted his broad shoulders moving back through the crowd toward me with something in his hand.
He led me to an empty side section of the market before speaking again.
“Forgive my absence, ashalik. While you were occupied, I made a small detour to another stall. Would you indulge me for a moment by turning around?” I looked at him curiously, but I did as he asked. Why wouldn’t I? The warmth of his presence moved closer to me, and his arms reached around me.
Within his grasp was a silver chain with a deep, red stone - I took a guess that it was a garnet or something similar. The way the light reflected and refracted off the stone’s many facets put any other jewelry I owned to shame. Once the necklace was secured around my throat, Koss swept my hair out from under the metal to its former position. Was I imagining things or did his fingers linger just a beat longer than was necessary over my pulse?
“I thought this pendant appropriate for one whose passions have carried her across the stars,” he murmured somewhat closer to my ear than I had expected. This felt like more than just a casual gift from a friend, though. I knew what I so desperately wanted it to be, even if it was impossible. “You are an admirable, venerable woman, and knowing you is my greatest pleasure.”
I didn’t know what to say. What could I say in the wake of such a sincere compliment?
Before I could find my voice and the correct words to say, part of the crowd moved closer to us, and Koss grasped my hand lightly to guide me away. A few moments later, he pulled me carefully to a stop outside a small shop with his hand still holding mine.
“Would you like to share some tea before we return home? I am familiar with this particular tea maker. He is quite skilled.” He looked so hopeful. How could I possibly refuse?
Smiling up at him, I agreed, and Koss escorted me inside.
“Shif pasu.” The waiter nodded his head at Koss’s request before leading us to a table for two in a secluded little corner. This felt surprisingly intimate, just like many of the other things we’d done together. Was I crazy or was there more to our interactions than I’d previously assumed?
When we were served a single, slightly larger than normal cup of tea, I looked at Koss curiously.
“Is this a Vulcan custom?” A hint of green dusted his cheeks at my question.
“It is, ashaya. However, if you would prefer a second cup–”
“No, no, this is perfectly fine. I was just curious. I’m afraid I don’t know as much about your culture and customs as I should outside of the diplomatic arena,” I explained, and he visibly relaxed.
“I would be gratified to teach you whatever you wish to know,” he said gesturing for me to take the first sip. As I did so, he continued. “For example, this particular custom is traditionally a gesture of trust and familiarity between two individuals. This tea shop is often frequented by couples beginning a courtship.”
“Really?” I asked as I set the cup back down in the middle of the table. “May I ask why that is?”
“To share food and drink - resources which have been scarce throughout our planet’s history - signifies one person’s desire to ensure the survival of the other,” he explained before taking a sip of the tea.
“So...the pair two tables to our left is sharing a cup, as well. Are they...’courting,’ as you called it?” The term sounded rather Victorian, but I wasn’t about to criticize them. I was just happy to be learning something new about Koss and his people. He glanced over at the table I’d indicated, then back at me.
“I have no doubt that they are,” he replied sounding certain of the fact.
“But they’re behaving just like anyone else. Besides the tea, I can’t see anything that sets their behavior apart. What makes you so sure?” I asked curiously, and the barest hint of mischief sparkled in his eyes.
“Look at their hands,” he instructed quietly. I did so as stealthily as I could manage, and I saw that atop the table, the man’s first two fingers were resting over the same fingers on the woman’s hand. When I looked back at my companion, he must have realized that only raised more questions than it answered. “That is quite intimate physical contact.”
What? But Koss had held my hands much more firmly than that tiny, little point of contact. Why was that so different?
“How so?” At my question, he blushed more prominently.
“Lay your hand on the table in the same position as theirs,” he murmured, and I did as he said - of course I did. I trusted him, after all. Delicately, Koss laid his hand on the table, allowing two of his fingers to lay atop mine. A soft, pleasant, dizzying sort of warmth wound its way up my arm from the point of contact, and I looked up at my neighbor curiously. “This is a variation of a gesture called an ozh’esta.”
“Does it always feel like...like this?” I had no idea how to describe the sensation he’d thrust upon me, but I had to assume this was normal for this particular gesture.
“I do not know. What are you feeling?” He asked looking almost surprised.
“Warmth, I suppose, but that doesn’t quite describe it fully. This feels different somehow,” I murmured, realizing how ridiculous I must have sounded.
“I...was unaware that Humans could experience what we do with the ozh’esta. Your species has no telepathic ability,” he muttered. Telepathy? Was that why Vulcans dislike physical contact? Tilting his head curiously, he blinked and the warmth his touch had inspired changed to a subtle, pulsing, tingling sensation. “And now?”
I described it to the best of my ability, and Koss’s eyes darkened as his pupils dilated. After a short burst of what felt like pure pleasure, he removed his hand from mine and took a bracing sip of tea.
“Forgive me. I should not have behaved so inappropriately.”
“You didn’t, Koss, I promise.” I touched his wrist lightly, and he looked at me with surprise written all over his face. Giving him a small smile, I tried to reassure him. “You were teaching me. Thank you for the lesson and for the insight into your culture.”
“You...are welcome,” he said just above a whisper as I sipped our tea. Once our cup was empty, Koss paid the tab and we made our way back toward home.
We paused outside my door moments later, and I turned to face him. He was already looking at me with an expression that - if he’d been Human - I’d have described as softly affectionate. But he couldn’t feel that way about me.
“I just want to thank you for today. I know you probably had better things to do, but I really enjoyed myself. I mean, that’s no surprise, really, because I always enjoy spending time with you, Koss.”
“As do I, ashaya,” he murmured as his eyes skimmed my face.
“You know, if you come by after your evening meal tomorrow, I’ll have a surprise ready for you,” I said with a little wink. Koss tilted his head curiously, but before he could ask what I meant, I stood on my tiptoes and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. “See you for a swim tonight?”
“I...Yes, of course,” he stammered, and I gave him one last smile before heading inside. Now, all I had to do was make sure the recipe would work the way I wanted.
--
The next day, Soval and I arrived in the Embassy lobby at the same time. We offered each other the ta’al salute as usual, and made our way to the turbolift.
“I take it you had a pleasant day of rest?” Soval inquired as the lift began moving. He sounded almost amused.
“I did, but what’s with the tone?” I asked curiously, but all he did was raise an eyebrow.
“Koss escorted you to the market stalls yesterday, did he not?”
“He did, but how did you know that?” There was no reason for my cheeks to start burning, yet they did. We hadn’t done anything wrong.
“I saw a pair resembling the two of you. The male seemed to be quite a dedicated provider,” Soval stated, and my cheeks heated further. “You were aware that his behavior is that of a male who wishes to win a potential mate’s affections, were you not?”
“I...Soval, you’ve got it all wrong. Koss doesn’t see me like that. I’m not a Vulcan woman.” We stepped out of the lift and started walking toward our shared office. “We went shopping and shared some tea. That’s all.”
“Do you view him as a potential mate?” He asked, and I stopped in my tracks. I had strong feelings for Koss, that much I was certain of, but I knew he could never reciprocate them. Why should he?
“I like him probably more than is proper, but, ultimately, it doesn’t matter,” I murmured resuming my stride, and the Ambassador gave me a quizzical look.
“Explain.”
“Vulcans abhor emotional behavior. I’m a Human. We’re pretty damned emotional. I highly doubt that someone as illogical as I am would be seen as a viable choice for a romantic partner for a man like him.” The door to our office slid open, and we both stepped inside.
“But you do desire to be seen that way by him?” I barely managed an embarrassed nod of confirmation. “I submit to you that he already sees you as such.”
“Your evidence?” I expected no more than a knowing glance, but he surprised me.
“You wore his robe to the Embassy while it still held his scent. He would not have given that to you if he did not wish to express a desire to protect you. His scent was mixed with yours for the duration of the day. No doubt anyone who encountered you that day is now aware that you are under a Vulcan’s protection. Accompanying you to the market, adorning you with a piece of jewelry he’d purchased, and sharing tea with you in a public area - all are actions which illustrate his desire and ability to provide for you. Such behavior would be quite obvious to a Vulcan female as that of a male desiring courtship, because those traits are ones heavily and instinctively sought after in a future mate,” Soval said, but I could do no more than blink in surprise. “Has he attempted to demonstrate his physical fitness to you?”
Memories of our swims together flashed through my mind’s eye, including the time he’d swept me up in his arms so easily. Perhaps his teasing wasn’t quite as innocent as I’d previously assumed it to be.
“Should I take your silence as a confirmation?” I nodded my head silently, then another thought occurred.
“What...? I mean, does serving someone breakfast count as a demonstration that you can provide for them?”
Soval’s eyes widened almost comically.
“I will not ask how that particular opportunity arose, but if he did so unprompted, then yes. I believe it was,” he said with a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.
Oh my god, had Koss been trying to flirt with me the whole time? Was I really so oblivious? Had I done anything to make him think I was rejecting him?
“Ambassador, I should warn you that Vulcan males can be quite single-minded when they have decided that someone would be their ideal mate. If you wish to dissuade him, you must do so clearly and quickly–”
“What if I wanted to reciprocate?”
Soval leaned back against his desk with an almost proud tilt to his chin. Had he been hoping for this outcome?
“It would appear that you are already doing quite well on your own, despite not being fully aware of the implications of your actions,” he stated tilting his head slightly. “By allowing him to complete these tasks and showing your gratitude for them, you have demonstrated that you are open to - and accepting of - his attentions. However, it is likely that he is aware of the vast cultural difference between your species. As such, he may not view these reciprocal gestures as intentional. You may need to be a bit more overt in your own actions.”
At his advice, a plan began to form in my mind. Maybe there was a way I could show Koss how I felt.
“One last concern, which I suspect will become relevant soon: how much do you know of Vulcan biological cycles?” The deep, emerald blush that ignited to the tips of Soval’s ears made my eyes widen. At my confused look, he set the office door to conference mode so that we wouldn’t be disturbed. Clearly, whatever I knew wasn’t as thorough as whatever he was about to tell me. “We do not speak of such things publicly or to outsiders, but yours is...a unique situation. Every seven years...”
~*~*~
Vulcan Words:
ashaya = love
ni'droi'ik nar-tor = I am sorry
lesek = thank you
t’sai = Lady (as an honorific title)
osu = sir
ashalik = darling
shif = pair
pasu = table
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secret-rendezvous1d · 2 years
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i can imagine him getting so run down and sick on tour and his wife taking care of him 🥺
If Harry was known for one thing, it was being healthy.
He was never one to pick up the seasonal influenza when it made its rounds around his friends, he never picked up the common cold in its peak and he was very rarely sick to his stomach because he always kept an eye on what went into his body.
He was a clean man. Hygienic, to say the least. He kept his hands and face clean, steered clear of those who were ill (no matter how hard it was to stay away) and he dressed appropriately for the weather each day he left the house - always sticking a coat in the car, no matter if it was sunny, because the weather was always bound to take a turn. It was England, after all.
So when he did pick up symptoms of a cold, it hit him hard.
Not to the point where you'd call in 'man-flu' - he was never one to make a huge fuss out of being ill and he usually coped well with the stuffy nose and the scratchy throat and the constant production of mucus that, no matter how many times he sneezed or blew his nose or tried to clear his throat, would still appear in his nasal passages and make him feel all bunged up - but to the point where he needed a break from everything. A rest, more naps than usual, an easier day to have and a slower schedule to follow.
If he was to get sick, it was usually the mid-way point of a busy few weeks. Touring, in particular. Where he was travelling by plane almost every single day, going from different weather conditions, in a rush to get to where he needed to be on time. Where stress would build up on his shoulders and weigh down heavy. Where he was running on only a few hours of sleep, where he had slept in a bed that wasn't his own and had uncomfortable bedding that just scratched his skin and made him feel hot, with jet-lag still treating him poorly.
YN knew it was coming.
She could read him like a book; he was so open.
He was a lot more clingy, never wanting to leave her side, always in her presence and holding her hand. His tall figure, that would usually be towering beside her, hunched over and he looked smaller than he usually stood. His head finding a place in the crook of her neck. And all he wanted was her to hold him or, in some cases, all he wanted was her in his arms so he had a reminder of comfort around him.
As people found it cute, always commenting on just how adorable they really were when people weren't following them around, YN had a hunch and knew what the true meaning behind his actions were. He was in need of something. Whether it was a headache brewing or his throat had started to ache or his chest began felt a little tight - when he was softer than usual - YN knew what was to hit for the next few days.
"You feeling okay?"
He nods softly, stretching his figure out on the sofa that definitely couldn't fit all of him on as well as YN as she perched on one of the sofa cushions, his head resting on her thigh. Fingers scratching at his head.
"Are you sure?"
"Mm-hm. I think so," he mumbles, eyes closed tightly as if the light was burning his eyeballs, "I can't cancel the show."
"Not asking you to do that, silly. Just," she takes a moment to take in his features; the way his lips were the most perfect shade of pink and the way his eyelashes brushed the curves of his cheekbones, the way his chest rose and fell with each gentle breath he took and the way a hitch would catch in his throat and make he cough once to clear it, the way his fingers entwined as his hands laid upon his chest, "just, remember its about you sometimes. You can't help it."
"I can. If I just take it easy."
"Harry," she warns him softly, "it's okay to cancel."
"I know but I feel fine," he opens one eye and smiles softly at her, "I promise you, I'm feeling fine."
The buzz of the dressing room soon filled up and, after he'd taken a couple of ibuprofen tablets that his photographer had managed to go and buy from the local pharmacy (along with an inhaler stick for his nose and a few packs of tissues), he was back to acting somewhat like himself. Like the feel of a busy backstage atmosphere was a reboot of some sorts.
Hours turning into minutes turning into seconds before he was due on stage to perform; Wembley Stadium already sounding insane as they neared the side of the stage. Cheers filling the corridors and echoing in the silence as everyone focused on the pre-show warm-ups they had to do before entertaining a crowd of ninety thousand people.
*
And as much as he loved performing, home was calling.
His own bed, his own duvet, his own pillows. His own bedroom in his own house. Their house. A house that he had missed over the last few months and had craved the feeling of; hotel rooms were okay but the feel of his own home was all he wanted when he'd been away for so long. Knowing he was going back to a place that was filled with love, knowing he had the presence of YN all night, falling asleep and waking up to familiarity instead of a city he hadn't seen that much of before.
*
"I know you're sick right now, but," YN smirks and he stops in his tracks, hair damp from his shower and a white towel wrapped around his waist, "you're looking very good right now."
"Yeah?"
He did a twirl and she cackled, enticing a soft laugh from him before he coughed numerous times into the crook of his elbow. Wheezes rattling his chest and a heavy sniff soon following as he tried to clear his nose, snorting and swallowing.
"Am I still sexy after that?"
She nods and grins widely, pulling the duvet up to her chest as she tried to hide the blush that coloured her cheeks; no matter how long they'd been together, he still made her feel like a school girl with a crush. He shakes his head in disbelief but sits himself down beside her legs as she stretches out down the expanse of the mattress, hand resting upon her thigh (or where he assumed it was).
A hand sitting on top of his and, even though he had showered and washed off the sweat that had built up over the course of his show, she could still feel a sticky layer still attached to his skin - probably in for a sleepless night but she was glad it was at home and no any place else.
"I'm just really proud of you. So proud of you," she says as she squeezes his hand, "feeling ill but still performing a home show, sold out, doing the same again tomorrow night. It doesn't get any better than that."
"Still love you more and more every day," he smiles, "the best thing to happen to me."
"Shut up," she frowns and he brings her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to her, "stop it, you'll make me sick."
"Let's be sick together," he laughs and leans over, pressing a kiss to her lips, "couples that get sick together, stay together."
"Who said romance is dead?" xx
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mx-gutz · 1 year
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Okay my friend made a post about messy line art. I was gonna put in my experience but I realised my art doesn't fit with the topic. So I'll make its own post.
Around mid 2021 to 2022, I switched from lineless art to line art. And back then, I tried to keep my line art as clean as possible.
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But suddenly, one day I felt line art was too difficult. Too hard to maintain. I had to get the perfect line in each part, had to color the inner lines to match the colors.
I LOVED line art but it doesn't fit for me anymore.
I once found a QR code crayon brush for IbisPaint X and tried it as lineless art for Art Fight last year.
And I love it. I love it way more than my line art. I love the crunchy feeling of the crayon brush, whereas my old lineless art was just a flat brush with watercolor brush as shading.(Those were made in Medibang, because Medibang doesn't have lots of textured brushes 💔)
Afterwards I stopped line art and went back to lineless art.
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((I even slowly learned color theory and rendering, both simple and "painterly" way. But that's a different story.))
The reason I made this was mainly to pour out my feelings. It's not suitable for the messy line art post because this ends with... NO LINE ART! LOL‼️
Yet I still have many struggles as an artist; motivation, keeping to stay drawing as to fuel my passion for art. I dwindled my drawing times because I often take too long to come up with ideas.
The "idea" of a perfect art account is still trapped in my mind. Even if I stray away, the insecurities of owning an art account would haunt me.
Badly.
But sometimes... I had to learn another thing as well. A thing I never expected to be important.
Drawing comfortably.
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maiji · 11 months
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[image set: 1) Digital ink brush-and-watercolour-style illustration of the Buddhist monk Byakken from Nubatama wa Oujou Shinai in ceremonial robes. His lifted head, hooded eyes and slightly open-mouthed expression give the impression that he is in the midst of giving a talk. 2) Same illustration, but with only the lineart. 3) Byakken with a variety of facial expressions, looking serene, shocked, stressed out, annoyed, etc.]
説経の講師は顔よき。講師の顔をつとまもらへたるこそ、その説くことの尊さも覚ゆれ。 - Sei Shonagon, 枕草子 (Makura no Soushi / The Pillow Book)
“A priest who gives a sermon should be handsome. After all, you're most aware of the profundity of his teaching if you're gazing at his face as he speaks.” [translation by Meredith McKinney (2006)]
"A preacher ought to be good-looking. For, if we are properly to understand his worthy sentiments, we must keep our eyes on him while he speaks [...]” [translation by Ivan Morris (1967)]
More commentary below the cut!
I chuckled at this quote from The Pillow Book (and the entire story built around it) in Nubatama wa Oujou Shinai. (If you’re unfamiliar with The Pillow Book, it very much is like reading the blog of a thoughtful, witty court lady from the Heian era! Sei Shonagon can be quite tongue-in-cheek, even sarcastic, and in a lot of ways it’s amazing to see how little humanity has changed over a thousand years.) I also thoroughly enjoyed drawing Byakken-sama in ceremonial robes!
On the topic of faces, one of the many reasons I love Byakken is because of his extremely relatable facial expressions. Kuze Banko gives him a lot of these perfectly serene expressions, but also has no problems pulling him in extremely over the top directions too - usually from shock or stress, he seems to get into those kinds of situations very easily lol. I feel his emotions one hundred and ten percent! Because of the well-done range and writing, it really gives you the impression that even his serene expressions have something more behind them (like exasperation, resignation…).
For example, the (very minor early story spoilers!) context for “That was a BIG FAT LIE” (smiling outside, dying inside) is that Nubatama happily tells all the sobbing wailing people in her household that she decided to become a nun because she was so profoundly moved by Byakken-sama’s preaching and decided to leave the material world behind. Which as we know is a complete fabrication especially since Byakken spent most of his time with her arguing with her about why she shouldn’t become a nun. But everyone who hears the story is like hmm yeah!! That makes total sense!!!! And thus The Amazing Tale of How Princess Nubatama Was Inspired To Become A Nun gets around. The panel that cuts to Byakken standing in front of a bunch of people talking about this, with his beatific Mona Lisa smile that somehow manages to be really flat at the same time, captioned with a giant USO (“lie”) kanji, is pitch-perfect. The entire setup and background gives him this impression of “Ah, yes… that familiar feeling… of THE DESIRE TO COMMIT MURDER”. Every time I look at it, I laugh.
It was a good challenge attempting all the different faces while still trying maintain a sense of consistency about the character, especially thinking about how I would render him differently relative to all the other Buddhist monk characters I also draw. I tried to manage that through his eyes - his very expressive eyebrows, heavy lids, and the little lashes at the corners of his eyes and his lower lids, and some of the dips/head shape near his temples. It’s also interesting to click between the colour and the ink/line-only versions and see how the effect of an image can change subtly, yet noticeably once you bring in shading and colour.
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edenjohansson · 10 months
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Chapter 10
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fifty shades of red
Bella's pov :
With the Avengers around my table it feels like we have known for years. We all talked for hours even if they were tired of the long road of the past few days. I stood up and walked them into the different rooms of my house. They will share rooms. Tony's going to sleep with Pepper obviously, Thor with Sam, Clint with Bruce, Steve and Bucky. Wanda with Vision and finally Nat with me.
"Why so many rooms if vampires don't sleep?"
"It was a tradition. When I had parties here, we hunting humans at this time, and the rooms was for them so they can sleep to produce more blood for us" I looked at their scared face and add "Yeah I know it's creepy but hunting humans was very regulated so we couldn't permit to hunt every day"
"So we're going to sleep inside beds where people were killed?" Tony asks, suspicious.
"No no no. Don't worry about that. We killed them when they're awake. We like to see the fear in their eyes when we're about to drink their blood" I respond with a huge smile on my face.
I laughed as I saw their faces decay.
"If you could see your faces! It's incredible!" I said to them, I walked away from the rooms and added "Sleep well tonight".
I took the stairs and walked inside my room. The night was just starting and the view from my bay windows was really magic. I had to take a shower to evacuate all the blood from the attack of 2 days ago. I started to undress myself and walked under my shower. The cold water was perfect. My skin was already cold but the water was so de-stressing for me. My white hair was unbraid on my back. Red water started to flow on the floor.
I heard Natasha walk inside my bedroom quietly.
"I heard you, you know. No need to be quiet" I said.
I turned and saw her staring at me under the water. Her expression was unreadable.
"Are you okay?" I asked her as I stopped the shower.
"Why do you always ask me if I'm okay?" Nat asks me without moving.
I heard as she tried to stop the beating of her heart. She tries to cover her emotions.
"Because I came up in your life really quickly and I imposed you a lot lately. Life with a vampire is never easy mainly for a human and I'm clearly not the most easy one"
I really want to be sincere with her because I will always offer her an escape if she wants to leave. For me it's fifty-fifty, if she leaves me right now I would be sad that's for sure but I still will have a crown on my head and a country to rule so I can't let my emotions win.
"Why do you never show your emotions? I see you laugh and smile but I see that for all other emotions you never show them to the world" She asked me this question sincerely but I wasn't prepared for that.
I walked out of the shower and got my towel to wrap inside. I lean against the edge of the sink behind me. I sighed and looked at her.
"Because for most emotions, vampires lose them years after years. For us, humanity has become something unrealistic. We lost our emotions because we lived so many different lifes. I can still feel some of them like anger or rage sometimes but also happiness when I'm around people I love. The word 'love' is itself complicated. How am I supposed to love someone when I know that in a few years they will die?" As I said this last word I looked down and remembered my last relationship.
Natasha walked towards me and placed her hands on my arms. I looked at her again. She's smiling at me. How is it possible that I deserved her?
"I will let you discover your emotions again, don't worry. I hope you're not gonna feel pain or sadness with me but I can try for the others"
I smiled and heard her heartbeat going faster. I looked at her.
"My smile's really affecting you" I said as I placed my hand on her waist.
She leaned closer to me, our lips brushing against each other. I bit my bottom lip and ran my fingers under her shirt directly to her hot skin.
She kissed me slowly at first but started to get more passionate. I got her body closer to mine and heard her breath getting louder. I got my lips away from hers and said before she kissed me again.
"You should get some sleep darling. Not that I don't want this but you didn't sleep much in the past few days and having sex is going to hit you hard"
She sighed and nodds. I placed my hands behind her tight and lifted her up.
"I can walk you know" She said, giggling.
"I know love, I know but I prefer you in my arms"
I walked inside my room and let her on the edge of my bed.
"I can give you clean clothes if you want"
She nodded and I walked to my dressing room. I take a simple short and a red t-shirt. I moved back to my bed and gave the clothes to Natasha. She stood up and changed herself. I returned to my bathroom to brush my hair and my teeth. My body was already dry. I put on a simple short and a black top and got ready for bed.
Natasha was already under the sheets as I layed down next to her. She wrapped her arms around me and placed her head on my chest.
"You're going to sleep all night with me?"
"No. But I'll wait until you fall asleep and I'll be there when you wake up"
"How do you know when I'm going to wake up?"
"The heartbeat get faster darling"
I kissed her forehead and wrapped my arms around her body. Getting myself closer to her.
She smiled and closed her eyes. Happy.
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rikventures-art · 2 years
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for that ask meme u reblogged earlier today: 1, 4, 9, 11 aaand 21? :3c
WOW I completely forgot to answer this fdsfdsfs better late than never I guess
1 - Art programs you have but don't use Technically, I own an old version of Corel Painter. I got it through Humble Bundle years ago, but it just would not run on my pc and I never bothered to report the error anywhere so I never found a fix for it and never tried it :') I also have SAI and SAI2 but don't use them anymore after switching to CSP.
4 - Fav character/subject that's a bitch to draw Oh you KNOW I've complained about drawing humans so many times GDSFDSFF there are so many characters, both my own and from other media, I want so badly to draw but iiiiiiii have not been practising at all lately, whoops.
9 - What are your file name conventions I tend to name my files pretty accurately to what's in them, like "[character name] sketch" or "[prompt] - [character name]" and so on. I even have folders dedicated to each year (and if there are many files in one year, I also sort by month)
11 - Do you listen to anything while drawing? If so, what? I don't actually listen to music very often while drawing anymore fdsfsfds I usually find a Twitch VOD to catch up on, because many of the streamers I follow on twitch stream at times I'm not always free lmao. But when I do listen to music, I tend to choose either instrumental/video game soundtracks or stuff like Lord Huron, Hozier etc.
21 - Art styles nothing like your own but you like anyways Hmmm oh man. I adore many different art styles that are nothing like my own, but overall I love love love really painterly pieces, like very rough and messy art that still looks so well put together and has so much character. It's probably the kind of style I'd like the most to one day be good at myself, I just love the rough edges and how brush strokes don't have to be perfect as long as they look right. An honourable mention goes to the artists who know how to control vibrant neon colours; whether the whole drawing has bright colours or only small bits of it where you wouldn't expect it (like the official Hades artwork, love those lil' streaks of purple and green mixed in with the shading), I think that looks really cool!
---
Thanks for the ask! I swear I'll be better at answering stuff more quickly in the future fdsfdsfsfs
Original ask meme is here.
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evaicyvva · 1 year
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“Anthropophobia”
Hello everyone and Eva is with you again! I'm still waiting for reactions to the last video, but today I want to talk about photo editing. Photo editing is very important for photography and the photographer as a whole because editing gives the photo its individuality and its own zest. Today I decided to take 2 photos of the popular photographer Man Ray that I attached from above. The first photo is called "Woman with Long Hair" and "Glass tears". After the reference, I also attached the final result that I received. Let's figure out what tools I used to create my photo.
To create my photo, I used the Procreate program. From the very beginning, I took photo number 1. I didn't know what to add, but then the idea came to me to change the direction of the hair. To do this, I took the "pixels" tool.' and started moving pixels. Next, I took photo number 2 "Glass tears" and using the "Background Removal Tool" and removed everything except the eye. Next, I placed photo number 1 (redone) on the canvas and added an eye. To make a lot of eyes and copy them, I used a tool called "clones objects tool" and thereby cloned the eye creating a frame of many eyes. In the end, the photo seemed too boring to me, so I decided to add an emphasis on 5 eyes by making them red. To add color to the photo I used the "Brush tool" I used 2 colors one is light red the other is dark red on the pupil of the eye to make it more realistic. Next, for a smoother transition from one color to another (for shading) I used the "Gradient tool". All the instruments that I used gave a good result in the mix with each other.
But this result of my photo was given not only by the Photoshop tools that I used, but also the rules of composition and of course the elements and principles of design. First, let's focus on the rules of composition. Composition rules are a space where individual elements should turn into one whole, and where images are (6 Essential Composition Rules You Need to Know, 2015). In combination with one or more additional rules, numerous single compositions work even better, so in my work I used a mix of composition rules. The first rule I want to talk about is Symmetry patterns (From the slides). This rule creates and harmonizes the overall picture of the photo. In my own work, I used this rule by placing my eyes semetrically to each other (along the perimeter of the main picture of a woman). But a symmetrical composition does not provide for a perfect match of the elements of both halves of the image. The viewer's gaze can quickly get tired of monotony, so the imperfection of symmetry gives the look to catch on and rest, and I tried to change the direction of the eye's gaze so that you can look at the photo as long as possible (Photography, 2022). The next composition rule that I used to improve my photography is Framing. The purpose of this rule is to give the focal point of the image the shape of a frame made up of other objects in the image. This frame helps to highlight the central point of the image and better complements and reveals the story. In my work, I used the eyes as a kind of frame that focuses on the photo of a woman and the same frame-the eyes. Thanks to this rule, I have achieved my goal-a depth supplement that is created thanks to the eyes and my photo looks much more interesting. Speaking of design elements, I used Space. I used the space to fill the void of the background of photo 1 and I filled this void by adding eyes from photo number 2. Also, a very important element that was used in my photo is Value. This design element shows the meaning of the color. Despite the fact that all two photos are black and white, they are in different shades. Which creates a contrast between two photos and shows that, for example, the eyes are closer to the viewer than the girl. Now it's worth talking about the principles of design. The only principle I used was harmony. Thanks to this principle, everything works together - the eyes and the woman all look harmonious and balanced.
The title of this photo is "Anthropophobia", which is what I dedicated my photo to. Anthropophobia is one of the obsessive states, which is expressed in the fear of people and society. In a sense, this is a form of social phobia in which a person avoids contact with people. Many people do not talk about this disease or underestimate it, but in my life I had a person with Anthropophobia and it was very strongly deposited in my heart, so I decided to dedicate this photo to this disease.
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xjoonchildx · 3 years
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snapshot | jhs x reader
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summary: after a day at the beach, hoseok has some surprises in store for his longtime love
pairing: hoseok x reader
genre: fluff, smut, fluff OH MY GOD SO MUCH FLUFF y'all i apologize
word count: 4.7K
notes: this fic is a commission fic for the lovely @wwilloww as part of the @armyadvocates fundraising initiative to stop hate crimes against AAPI. miss willow asked for an old house, candles and soft smut as well as a mystery box. i did my best to deliver on all counts because willow is amazing and deserves all good things.
thanks go to @hobi-gif @ladyartemesia and @btsarmy9593 for beta reading parts of this story, thanks so much for keeping me on track ladies! a very special shoutout to @sahmfanficbts who helped me come up with a very *key* part of this plot.
warnings: no one dies? no one is in danger of dying? who am i? standard smut, unprotected sex. liberal sunscreen use. low air quality due to paint fumes and sawdust. references to yoongi, who we can assume is cranky offscreen, references to @untaemedqueen first suggestion of what was in the box.
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Warm.
Hoseok is so warm right now, inside and out. He stretches his long body out on the length of his beach lounger, enjoying the feeling of the sun beating down on his skin. His buzz is mellow and pleasant. He lets his eyes drift shut, lulled into a lazy calm by the sounds he can hear all around him.
The steady lap of the waves against the shore. Kids laughing as they run around on the sand. Off in the distance, a bluetooth speaker thumps out a song that’s too far away for him to recognize. And after a few minutes, another sound.
Your bright laughter, carried to him on the breeze.
God, he loves that sound.
“You are such a lightweight,” you tease. Hoseok can hear the smile in your voice. “Two beers and you pass out on me.”
He cracks one eye open to find you standing beside his lounger. The early evening sunlight streams through the strands of your dark hair and warms your bronzed skin, bathing you in a kind of golden halo. He gazes up at you, languid and content.
“I’m not passed out,” he argues with a slow grin. “I’m relaxing. Come relax with me.”
Hoseok doesn’t give you a chance to accept his offer, leaning up to grab your hand and pull you down into the narrow space beside him. You laugh when he wraps his arms and legs around you like a starfish, pulling your back flush against his chest.
“I’m just enjoying the perfect day,” he murmurs, nosing at the back of your ear, “With my perfect girl.”
“Flatterer.”
Hoseok can’t see you rolling your eyes, but he knows you’re doing it anyway. Just like he can’t see the way you flush and he knows you’re doing that, too.
“We should eat,” you say after a while, shivering when he strokes the pads of his fingers up the soft skin of one bare leg. “Grab something before we have to take the bikes back.”
Hoseok hums under his breath as he slides his palm up the curve of your thigh, boldly searching for trouble under the hem of your sundress. You bat his hand away and he laughs, hugging you tighter.
“Alright,” he agrees in a whisper, ghosting his lips down the nape of your neck. You jolt in his arms when he sinks his teeth into the curve of your shoulder, nipping playfully. “Just a quick bite.”
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There’s not much difference between a sundress and a négligée is there?
Certainly not from where Hoseok is sitting, anyway.
He studies you as he rides close behind, watching the way your hair whips in the breeze as you pedal. One delicate sundress strap slips down your sun-warmed shoulder, exposing just a bit more of your back. Then the wind grabs a hold of your sheer skirt, lifting it just long enough for Hoseok to get a glimpse of the pretty white panties underneath.
God, he loves those panties.
Could stare at them all day, really.
But instead he forces himself to pedal faster and take the lead, grinning when you take note of his advance and glare. It’s for the best because while you think this is just some meandering evening ride, he’s the only one who knows where you’re really headed. For the best because if he falls off his bike and breaks his face because he’s too busy staring at your ass, the entire night will be ruined before it has the chance to start.
It’s quiet on this street just a few blocks from the shore.
Dolmeori Beach is rockier, more wooded than the beaches preferred by most tourists and that’s always suited Hoseok just fine. When he was a kid, he’d steal away when the weather was warm and hop the train here from Gwangju any chance he got.
It’s always felt like his place, his personal piece of sea and sand.
Pine trees loom high over the pavement, canopies so dense they block out much of the waning sunlight streaming down from above. The shade beneath the leaves makes the heat bearable, but it also makes it hard to judge the time. Hoseok steals a quick look at his watch.
Right on schedule. He hopes Yoongi followed his instructions to the letter.
“Hurry up, slowpoke,” he teases over his shoulder, and he chuckles at the sound of frustration you make as you pedal faster to catch up. It takes a few seconds for you to coast into position at his side.
“You still haven’t told me where we’re going,” you fuss, “Wanna clue me in?”
Hoseok turns his head to smile at you, sly like a fox.
“You’ll find out when we get there.”
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The realtor had said the place would need a little love.
Turns out, it needs a lot more than a little. But Hoseok was able to see right past the weathered wooden porch and salt air-worn paint right away. When he found this place online, he knew it was the one.
He slows his bike to a stop as the two of you make your approach, taking note of the warm light that glows just behind the frosted glass pane in the front door. Looks like Yoongi came through.
“What is this place?” you ask, skidding to a stop beside him. You stand over your bike on tiptoes as you survey the house, brow knit in confusion.
“It’s a surprise,” Hoseok grins, hopping off his bike. He shoves the kickstand into place and offers you his hand, which you accept with a suspicious smile. “Wanna go in?”
“Yeah sure,” you shrug. “We’ve probably already stolen these bikes. What’s a little breaking and entering on top of that?”
Hoseok laughs, leading the way to the front door.
He cringes when the porch floorboards creak loudly beneath his feet, making a mental note to put that project next on his to-do list. You stand with arms crossed, watching silently as he crouches down to lift the mat at the front door, fingers feeling beneath for the concealed key.
You stop him with fingers wrapped around his forearm when he gets to his feet.
“Wait,” you whisper frantically. “We can’t just walk into someone’s house, Hoseok.”
He chuckles before leaning down to kiss the adorable confusion right off your face. Then he slides his key into the lock and pushes the door wide open.
“Not someone’s house,” he corrects, watching you peer skeptically inside.
You step slowly through the threshold and scan the candle-lit front room before turning to him with wide eyes.
“Our house.”
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“You bought a beach house.”
It’s the third time you’ve said it by now, and not once has the hushed observation been directed at Hoseok. You said it when you brushed your fingertips over the freshly-dried spackle on the living room wall, said it again as you passed your hand over the base coat of stain on the mantle over the fireplace.
You say it again as you turn to him, jaw slack with disbelief.
“You bought a beach house.”
“Yeah,” Hoseok admits sheepishly, uncertain of your reaction. He tries to see the room the way you must see it now, candles and tools scattered across the tables, floors covered in drop cloths, cans of paint and plaster stacked up in the corners.
Yoongi had done a decent job of clearing up most of the clutter before he left, but judging by the astonishment on your face, he’s probably been romanticizing the mess in here.
He’d really hoped to have a lot more done the first time he brought you here, but he’s learned the hard way that some home renovation projects don’t go as smoothly in real life as they do on YouTube. The process has been a bit of trial and error, with a lot more error than he’d originally counted on.
“I know it doesn’t look like a whole lot right now,” he says, rubbing awkwardly at the back of his neck, “But it’s going to look great when I’m done. Yoongi helped me sand all week.”
You shake your head like you’re coming out of a daze.
“Oh my god Hoseok, no -- ” you vow with a shaky laugh, “ -- no, this is incredible. This is amazing. I’m in shock.”
“Yeah?” Hoseok grins, relief melting over him. “I wanted it to be a surprise. I wanted -- ”
“ -- Wait,” you interrupt, one brow quirked high as you step closer. “You said… you said something important. You said this was our house.”
“Did I?”
You narrow your dark eyes at him and he chuckles uncomfortably, nerves kicking in for the first time tonight. The feeling -- and the occasion both call for more booze. Which he’s prepared for.
“Are you going to give me a tour?” you ask.
“Later,” he says. “After.”
“After what, Hoseok? You’re killing me slowly with all this suspense.”
“Hang out here for a second,” he instructs, ducking into the small kitchen. “I’ll be right back.”
It takes him no time at all to find the bottle of Moet he’s stashed in the fridge and the clean champagne flutes tucked away into the corner of his dutifully-dusted kitchen cabinet. He double-checks the contents of the box on the counter, making sure everything is in place.
Then he takes a deep breath.
Your brows lift in surprise when he walks back into the room with that box in his hands. You watch him set it down on the floor, saying nothing when he turns back to retrieve the champagne and glasses.
When he finally returns, you’re on your knees -- examining the package. Lips pursed thoughtfully as you press your fingers to the gold flecks on the fabric lid.
“Hoseok,” you whisper, flicking your gaze up to find his. “I have so many questions right now.”
You look so damned beautiful in this candlelight -- like you brought your golden glow from the beach indoors. Like you absorbed the sun’s rays and you’re emitting them now like some kind of superpower.
“Have a drink with me,” he murmurs, “And I’ll answer them.”
Something in the room shifts then; the temperature changes. The silly fun of the afternoon evaporates, leaving behind something heavy and heady. Hoseok knows you feel it too, when your half-smile slowly drops and you pull your lower lip between your teeth.
“Okay,” you agree softly, “Let’s have a drink.”
You watch him with those focused dark eyes as he pops the champagne. The drink bubbles over the lip of both flutes as he pours, on account of his haste and shaky hands. Then you take one of the glasses in hand and offer him the other, which he quickly accepts.
“To this surprise housewarming,” you declare, raising your flute for a toast.
Hoseok clinks his glass against yours, taking note of the way you watch him carefully over the lip of your glass as you’re tilting back the flute to take a sip. He decides he can’t keep you -- or himself -- in suspense any longer.
“You know how special you are to me, right?”
You make a face.
“Did you bring me to your new house to break up with me?”
Hoseok’s startled laugh turns into a cough and tears prick his eyes as champagne bubbles blaze a path up his sinuses.
“Yes,” he says dryly, once he’s managed to collect himself. “I figured dumping you by candlelight sounded like the most romantic option.”
You tip your head back when you laugh, light playing off the curve of your neck, your collarbones, the tiny gold pendant that sits in the pretty dip at the base of your throat.
God, he loves your skin.
Hoseok looks at you long and hard before lifting his flute to take a long drink.
“This is for you,” he says quietly, acknowledging the box out loud for the first time.
“What’s in it?”
“A human head,” Hoseok snorts, flinching when you reach over to pinch his leg. “Don’t be a pain. Just open it.”
Your eyes light with excitement as you smooth your hands over the lid and Hoseok can’t help but smile. But your excitement turns into confusion the moment you open the box and find the neat row of plain white envelopes inside.
“What is this?”
“Quit asking me questions,” Hoseok deadpans, pouring himself another drink. He tops off your glass, too. “And start at the front.”
You shake your head with a wry smile as you work the first envelope open, slipping your fingers in between the paper folds to fish out the contents inside. Hoseok sips his champagne as you produce the polaroid photo, head cocked to the side as you study it.
It was cold that day, he remembers that. You’d been bundled up in a pretty scarf and matching belted coat. In the photo, the mid-morning sun flares behind you, illuminating your profile as you squint up at a display of laminated menus.
“This is me,” you murmur, mouth quirking into a disbelieving smile, “At the coffee truck outside of work.”
“Yup.”
“We’d just started dating.”
“Yup.”
“How did you take this without me noticing?”
“Easy,” Hoseok laughs. “You stared at that menu for five minutes straight. I’ve never seen someone take coffee selection so seriously. Thought you were gonna order the most complicated drink in history.”
You roll your eyes but you laugh. So does he.
“Turn it over.”
You flip the polaroid over in your hands, eyes moving over the neat block handwriting on the back.
coolest girl i ever met
“This is the day I knew I liked you,” Hoseok murmurs, “Like, really liked you.”
Your eyes are a bit glassy when you look up at him now, the corner of your mouth tugging into a soft smile.
“You were that sure that fast, huh?” “Yeah,” he admits, scratching self-consciously at the back of his neck. “Yeah, I was.”
You move onto the next envelope, this time prepared when you pull out yet another polaroid picture. This one is harder to place, taken in the dark, mostly black but for a few splashes of vivid light.
“I don’t know this one,” you frown, ghosting your finger across one particularly colorful blur of red and gold. “I can’t make it out.”
You turn the polaroid over, looking once again for Hoseok’s neat block letters.
she’s into me
You laugh out loud.
“That was the lantern festival in Cheonggyecheon,” Hoseok explains. “I’d invited you, but you’d had plans, remember? And I was just going to get Yoongi to go with me but you called me last minute to say you’d decided to come.”
“I remember,” you say with a smile. “Yeri invited me to a movie, but I cancelled on her. I wanted to hang out with you instead.”
“Yeah, well that’s the night I knew you really liked me.”
“Cocky,” you smirk, reaching for another envelope. “But warranted.”
Your eyes light with recognition the moment you pull the next picture out. You’re crouched down at the edge of his mother’s koi pond, one finger making ripples on the surface of the water.
“First time we ever went to Gwangju together,” you muse quietly. “First time I met your parents.”
You flip the polaroid over.
pretty sure my mom loves her more than she loves me
“Okay, this might actually be true,” you tease, taking a sip of your champagne. “Your mom and dad love me.”
“Yeah, well that was the day I decided I loved you, too,” Hoseok chuckles. “The point where I kind of knew there was no turning back.”
You look up from the photograph then, eyes glassy with emotion when they find his. Candlelight flickering across your face as you look at him fondly.
“You still feel that way?”
“Hell yeah, I do,” he laughs, scrubbing a hand down his face. “Keep going.”
The next polaroid is a selfie of Hoseok in bed but it’s by no means sexual. There are dark circles under his eyes and his skin has a sallow tint. Next to his pillow, the bedside table is littered with cold medicine and empty cups.
“Is this when you had the flu?” you ask, flipping the polaroid over. The neat block lettering on the back confirms your theory.
she took care of me
“You were so pitiful,” you laugh, shaking your head at the memory. “Wrapped up in your blankets like a burrito. I swear, men have zero tolerance for discomfort.”
“I nearly died,” Hoseok protests dramatically. “But you dropped everything to come take care of me. That’s the day I knew you loved me, too.”
Your smile is brilliant now, open and sweet as you reach for the last remaining envelope. Hoseok takes another swig of champagne, slugging it down as you pull out the polaroid and study the image.
You are wearing your delicate sundress, leaned up against the wooden railing that separates the sand and rocks. Standing just next to your bike, nose in the air as you breathe in the salt carried on the wind.
“This is today,” you murmur, brows knitting together when you flip the picture over and find the back side blank. “And you haven’t written anything here.”
“Yeah, well,” Hoseok starts and stops, clearing his throat. “I haven’t had a chance to write it in yet.”
“Oh.”
“That’s the day I asked you to marry me.”
“Oh.”
You blink. Once, then again. Hoseok can hear the shaky breath you take in when your mouth parts in surprise. He sets his champagne flute down, sufficiently bolstered by the booze.
“So that’s what I’m doing right now. I’m asking you to marry me.”
You’re still mute with shock, eyes wide as they go from Hoseok to the picture and back to Hoseok again.
“But uh, the longer you don’t say anything, the less confident I feel about this entire plan,” he chuckles awkwardly.
You take him off balance when you throw yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck and your thighs around his waist. He keeps you both from toppling over with a palm flat to the floor, laughing as you pepper his face with kisses.
“So is that a yes?”
“Yes,” you sigh, pressing your lips to his temple, his neck, his jaw. “Yes. To you and to these amazing pictures and to this beach house. Yes to all of it.”
You pull away from him to grab the champagne, eyes flashing mischievously as you take a drink straight from the bottle. “Yes to champagne, too.”
Hoseok feigns shock. “Naughty.”
You kiss him deeply then, thoroughly, enough for him to feel the remnants of the carbonation on your tongue. You tease him with a barely there roll of your hips and his cock responds instantaneously, at the mercy of the warm friction he can feel straight through the thin material of his board shorts.
“You know what I’m thinking?” you murmur against his mouth.
“I think I’ve got a pretty good idea, yeah,” Hoseok chuckles, sucking a breath between his teeth when you bite the skin just below his ear.
“We have a lot to celebrate, right?” you reason, tone light. “But we came here for a housewarming.”
You lean back just far enough to pull your sundress over your head, tossing it carelessly aside, leaving you in nothing but those pretty white panties he loves so much.
“So we should warm it.”
Hoseok grins, pulling the champagne bottle out of your grip. He turns it up just like you did, finishing what’s left before setting it back down.
“I like the way you think.”
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The only bedroom in this house is buried beneath a two-inch thick layer of sawdust right now.
Not that making it to a bedroom seems high on your list of priorities.
The fact that you’re both sitting on top of a drop cloth on Hoseok’s living room floor isn’t stopping you from threading your fingers into his hair, slipping your tongue into his mouth, grinding against his lap.
“You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?” you laugh, pressing your bare breasts to his chest once he’s managed to untangle himself from your limbs long enough to shrug out of his shirt. Your pebbled nipples drag across the lithe planes of his chest and his cock jumps in his shorts.
“Clever.”
“That’s me,” Hoseok murmurs against your lips, deft fingers slipping beneath the damp cotton between your thighs. He slides the pad of one long finger across your wet slit and you gasp, rocking against it.
“Gotta get you out of these panties,” he laments, pulling one nipple into his mouth and working it with his teeth. You shudder in his hold. “Quick.”
“What are you in such a hurry for?” you tease, circling your hips to chase the perfect pressure of his fingertips. “We have all night.”
“We have about three more minutes if you keep grinding on me like this,” Hoseok laughs, shifting your bodies to lean you back onto the floor. “So give me a break because I want to enjoy this.”
You lie back for him dutifully, dark hair spilling onto the drop cloth around you, skin gleaming in the candlelight. Your gold pendant twinkles at the base of your neck.
God, he loves the way you look like this.
Flushed with excitement and anticipation. Like a feast laid out just for him. He rids himself of those pesky board shorts as fast as he can, leaning over you on hands and knees.
“You’re gonna marry me,” he muses, burying his face into the soft skin under your jaw. “You already said yes, can’t take it back now.”
Your laughter is echoing in his ears as he trails hot, open-mouthed kisses along the curve of your neck, across the bronzed planes of your shoulder. He can taste the day on your skin; the ocean salt and sunscreen mixed with that flavor that’s so uniquely you.
“I don’t want to take it back,” you sigh, whimpering when Hoseok kisses a path down the velvety skin between your breasts. He travels lower, kissing just below your bellybutton as he starts working your panties off with one hand. “I’m gonna keep you.”
Hoseok chuckles as he tosses your panties away, off to somewhere unimportant. What’s important is the way you take a deep breath and hold it when his mouth hovers coyly over your cunt.
“Look at me,” he directs, peering up at you from beneath heavy eyelids. You open your eyes to meet his gaze, candlelight dancing over your pretty face.
“I love you,” he breathes, lowering his mouth to make contact with your clit. The air leaves your lungs in that moment, a soft exhalation of air that makes the hairs on the nape of his neck stand on end.
“I love you too,” you sigh, hips jerking at the contact, fingers digging hard into his hair. “So much.”
He knows you by now, knows how you like to be touched. Your rhythmic panting goes a bit ragged, when he slides two fingers into your cunt, crooking up to stroke you the way you like while his mouth works your clit.
God, he loves this part.
The part where you lose any semblance of control. The desperate sounds you make when you start to come apart beneath his mouth and hands.
“Hoseok -- “ your voice is strangled when you call out, “ -- Hobi, I’m gonna come.”
Something about the way you say his name goes straight to his dick. He grits his teeth when your nails dig almost painfully into his scalp as you start to tremble, shuddering against his mouth.
“That’s it, baby,” he soothes, pinning your hips down with his strong hands, keeping you from pulling away from the pleasure that borders on pain. “That’s it. Sound so good when you come for me.”
Hoseok stays face first in your cunt, nose and tongue pressed against you, until he’s certain the last wave has come and gone. Between his own legs, his cock pulses painfully, leaking pre-come at the thought of finally being inside of you.
Your body twitches with the aftershocks of your release as he slowly kisses his way up your thighs, your mound, your stomach.
“How was that?” he asks with a teasing tilt to his mouth, stealing your ability to answer when he kisses you deeply, fitting his slim hips between your legs. He reaches down to grab his stiff cock, sliding it across your slick entrance. You clamp your thighs together to tighten the drag and he groans at the friction.
“Amazing,” you sigh, dragging your nails over his ass, up the lean muscles of his back. “Perfect. You should let me return the favor.”
His dick practically jumps at the suggestion, stomach contracting hard at the prospect of feeling your pretty mouth wrapped around it. But Hoseok is too worked up, too riled up by the alcohol and the excitement.
“Can’t tonight,” he pants, arousal shooting up his spine when you wrap one hand around his now-wet cock. You pump him lazily, trailing soft bites from his jaw to his shoulder. “Need to be inside of you.”
“Yeah, I’m ready for that too,” you admit, guiding the blunt head of his cock to your entrance.
He surges forward then, pushing past the tight grip of your fingers, groaning as he’s enveloped completely by your warm cunt. You whimper at the stretch, locking your legs around him, gasping when he bottoms out.
He pulls back to the tip only to drive in again, earning another strangled moan. You’re squirming beneath him, breathless and dewy, looking like some kind of wet dream.
“I’ll never get over how good it feels to be inside of you,” Hoseok admits, burying himself as deep as he humanly can into you.
You’re so wet he can feel you spilling out onto the base of his dick and for one fleeting moment he wishes you knew how good this feels for him. How wet and hot and tight you feel around him. How being inside of you like this makes his brain go haywire, reduces him to only instinct and need.
You lift your hips to meet each snap of his, the wet sound of your joining echoing off the walls in this mostly empty house.
He hears you moaning his name in between the other sounds you make, in between the panting and mewling that makes his balls tighten. You grip his forearms as he grinds against you, kissing you in between desperate breaths.
“I think I’m gonna come again,” you gasp against his mouth. “Don’t stop.”
“Oh, fuck,” Hoseok groans, pulling back to get to his knees. He hooks one of your legs over the crook of one strong forearm, using his one free hand to press a thumb to your clit. His rhythm falters as he watches himself slide in and out of you, hypnotized by the sight of his body joined to yours.
You lift your ass off the floor, back arching as you chase the pressure of his fingers. Hoseok strokes you desperately, feeling his orgasm looming menacingly at the base of his cock. It takes just a few more strained pumps of his hips to set you off.
The second he feels you clamp down around him, Hoseok folds back over you, arms braced on either side of you as he thrusts through his own orgasm. He shuts his eyes and groans as he empties his cock inside of you, thrusting until he can’t anymore.
He collapses onto you, heart racing as he tries to catch his breath.
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“Don’t leave me,” you groan when Hoseok peels his damp skin away from yours to get to his feet.
He strides across the room, completely nude, grinning when you turn onto your side and go up on one elbow to ogle him.
“Just for a second,” he calls out, pulling out every unorganized drawer in the kitchen until he finally comes across a pen. “Gotta finish something.”
He makes a show of holding it in the air as he walks back into the living room, opening the gold-flecked box, and pulling out the last unmarked polaroid photo.
You’re smiling the entire time you watch him pen the last caption on the last photograph.
she said yes
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i want dick grayson to be annoyingly perfect in the smallest of unimportant ways. and i want it to irritate the living hell out of everyone around him
every now and then, jason and dick will go to different chili dog carts around the city, and dick will sit and nod in agreement as jason nitpicks the food, occasionally offering his own two cents. the conversations are tense and if the topic strays from anything except food jason books it, but it’s progress, and dick’s grateful. but he doesn’t understand why jason always growls at him when he’s preparing his chili dogs, chalking it up to jason’s obsessiveness about that food in particular. dick figures he’s probably doing it wrong. until one day, jason bites out a rough question, asks him how he did that. dick’s confused, until jason points out, “you tear open the top of the ketchup packet in a perfect line every time. and you get all of the ketchup out of the packet in one smooth squeeze, and you never get any on your fingers, and i don’t understand how.”
roy was, arguably, a better archer than ollie. green arrow had been birthed from the island, from the trauma of survival. roy, however, had been practicing since he was a kid, and now that he was well into his twenties, he could safely say he was one of the best shots in the world. he could beat all his friends at darts, shoot an apple off wally’s head, and was generally pretty awesome. or, he would be awesome, if only dick fucking grayson would stop making every single shot of anything he threw in a trash can. no matter what he was throwing away, no matter the angle, no matter the wind or rain, as long as the trashcan was in eyesight, anything dick tossed would inevitably end up inside the garbage. sometimes, dick barely even glanced at the damn thing, just took note of it a threw the trash, expecting it to land in the proper place. and it always did. the worst part was, dick didn’t even seem to notice it. he wasn’t actively trying to make every shot. when asked, dick just shrugged and said “we had some pretty good knife throwers in the circus.”
tim’s memories starting out as robin were a whirlwind, a push-pull of bruce’s mistrust, then bruce’s acceptance, of dick’s fear and hesitation, then of dick’s love. he still remembered dick making the two of them hot chocolate in the kitchen after a day of training, tim’s muscles sore and entire body aching but the feeling of pride, because he was good enough to be robin, he knew he was. he hadn’t expected that to happen anytime soon again, given the way their relationship had fractured after tim had left dick’s batman, a terrified fury in his eyes. yet, he’d been proven wrong when, after a particularly rough arkham breakout, alfred asked both dick and tim to stay instead of returning to their own apartments. just because the manor brought back a feeling of warm nostalgia, however, doesn’t mean it kept the nightmares away. he came down to the kitchen and saw dick already up, moving around the stovetop. with a knowing look in his eyes, dick grabbed another mug to make tim some hot chocolate. tim was washed over with a feeling of relief, of acceptance. dick slid the mug towards him and tim took a sip, letting the rich chocolate warm him up from the inside. it was delicious. his little sigh of pleasure must have been audible, but then he remembered something he noticed. “dick. did you use alfred’s recipe for this?” and dick laughed, responded with, “nah. too much work. i just sort of tried to remember what was in hot chocolate, and eyeballed most of the ingredients. i’m glad it turned out good though. no clumps too, that’s good.”
donna didn’t care how old she got, playing in the park with dick never got old. as one of her oldest friends, the two of them could just walk around the park, in companionable silence, just letting themselves relax and enjoy the moment. so, of course, dick would break the silence and ask if she had any earbuds, because it was getting to quiet for him. donna laughed, and reached inside her pocket, fingered past the keys, and grabbed the headphones. the tangled little ball that came out made her sigh, and she pulled on an earbud to loosen it, only managing to make one of the many knots tighter. then, dick took the headphones out of her hands with a here, i got it, and with a few quick tugs, the tangled monstrosity unraveled easy as breathing. then, completely unaffected, he handed her an earbud, putting the other in his own ear. “i’m the one who’s got a lasso,” she said, ignoring dick’s snort and quip about how earbuds and a lasso are two completely different things, donna.
cass hadn’t expected to enjoy such a gentle, graceful form of athletics, but after a few lessons, it had become apparent that ballet could be far from gentle. it pushed her, made her practice and strengthen herself, and she’d fallen in love with the art quickly. however, the most frustrating part of the entire thing had little to do with actually dancing. the school bruce had helped pick out was prestigious, which meant a strict dress code, which meant her hair had to be in a bun. unfortunately, her hair never seemed to want to cooperate. after her latest attempt, falling into a mess of hair at her nape that had so many locks falling out, cass contemplated how mad the teacher would be if she showed up in a ponytail. at that moment, dick peeked into her room, having heard her frustrated noise, and asked if he could do anything to help. cass pointed to the mess of hair, not even remotely contained by the hair tie, and blew a strand out of her face. dick smiled with understanding, then came into her room, grabbing the comb on her bed and standing behind her in front of the mirror. he smoothed her hair with the comb, then pulled it this way and that, twisting and turning and wrapping until, two minutes later, a picture perfect bun sat atop her head. cass blinked with surprise. “first try,” she said, staring up at him, but he just shrugged and said, “it’s not that hard. you want me to drop you off?”
bruce could admit that he rather enjoyed undercover missions. it was an extended game with high stakes, a test of his own acting skills. with makeup changing his face, an expertly made wig, and a demeanor completely different from both brucie wayne and from batman, he swept through the crowd of greasy men, looking for a specific contact. then, he caught sight of someone specific indeed, though they weren’t his contact. eyebrows raised in a what are you doing here? gesture, he slid onto a barstool. from behind the bar, dick offered him a blinding smile, cleaning a glass. he tapped his wrist twice, a clear message. undercover, same as you. then, dick grabbed a couple bottles from underneath a shelf, flipping them in his hand and pouring with grandeur. bruce noticed he hadn’t put any alcohol in his little mixture, only making it seem as if he had. the flashy moves were entertaining, bruce could give him that. dick slid him the drink and bruce took a sip, eyebrows raising in brief surprise. “this is good. bartending?” dick put the bottles and the lemon away, unimpressed. “it’s not like it’s hard. just mixing a couple ingredients. no biggie.” bruce was fairly certain bartending was more difficult than that, but just then, his target came into view. 
steph understood some of the bats’ frustration with dick, she really could. he hadn’t exactly been a welcome and opening batman, that’s for sure. regardless, as the few masks left in gotham had to work together, and she’d gotten to know the man pretty well. and she enjoyed his company as nightwing much more than batman. she dropped onto his balcony in his bludhaven apartment, announcing her presence in that loud-subtle way. dick was nestled in a couple blankets on the couch, going over a couple files, apparently just back from patrol if the small bandage on his neck and bags under his eyes were any indication. nevertheless, he brightened when he saw her and she nodded when he asked if she wanted to spend the night. he moved some of the papers to make room for her on the couch, but she flitted into his bathroom, going through the nail polish bottles she knew he had, and grabbing a shade of red that caught her eye. she tossed him the bottle and put her fingers in his lap, talking aimlessly about a movie she watched with cass. dick seemed to relax amidst her jabbering, and he shook the bottle a couple times before opening it and focusing on her right hand. but as he started, steph paused her rambling and focused on him instead, holding her hands gently and brushing paint onto her nails. he managed to cover her entire nail in three easy strokes, smooth and glossy, not a hint of paint on her skin. the nail was practically perfect. oh god she was jealous. “got a lot of practice with this, grayson?” she asked, and laughed at dick’s mock-offended of course not!
damian wasn’t one for photography, and he could grudgingly admit drake was far better at that particular skill than he was. however, his art class had promised to cover all types of media, and had upheld that pledge. the next two weeks were dedicated to photography, and their final project for the unit had to be a small collection of photographs. animal photography, of course, was damian’s chosen subject, and the knowledge that animal photography was one of the hardest skills to master only had damian wanting to do it more. days later, however, he could admit that it was trickier than expected. how had he never noticed how active his animals were? they never sat still, and every single picture came out blurry. grayson, upon coming across him in the manor grounds, noticed his futile attempts and asked if he could help. damian acquiesced the camera to grayson, who looked through the lens, finding the right angle and background, adjusting the focus settings slightly. then, he let out a sharp whistle and snapped his fingers. in nothing short of a miracle, damian’s pets pasued to look at him, only for a second, and the shutter clicked furiously. damian flipped through the photos, a good many of them clear and wonderful. damian snapped in irritation when dick ruffled his hair and said, “now you try!” it definitely wasn’t as easy as grayson made it look.
babs didn’t really know what she was expecting when she broke up with dick. there was hurt on both ends, and distance for a while, and she had no idea how much she’d miss him. but after a couple months of working together, of remembering that underneath the romantic tangles, their friendship was strong, she’d gotten to the point of dick randomly dropping by her apartment again. the downside was, dick kept randomly dropping by her apartment again. he stole her snacks and messed up her filing system and was so irritating that barbara almost forgot how relieved she was at having one of her best friends back. fortunately, it did come with benefits, because when he was bored, he did some of her chores for her. pausing in the doorway, she smiled at the sight of dick folding her clothes and putting them away. the gesture was platonic now, but no less appreciated. she pushed her wheelchair forward, and in greeting, dick told her how much he wanted to steal all her patterned socks. babs reminded him they wouldn’t fit, and laughed at his pout. dick grabbed one sock off the top of the laundry basket, then dug his hand into the pile of clothes randomly, coming up with the second sock in an instant. folding them together, he repeated the process for each pair. “that...that was fast. you got all of them?” babs asked in confusion. “yes? why, did you expect some to be missing?” was dick’s reply as he shook the wrinkles out of a sweater.
wally was never surprised. he knew dick better than probably most people in the world. he’d gone from frustrated and jealous of dick’s random talents, to admiring and appreciative, to just accepting them as a fact of life. dick’s phone never cracked if he accidentally he dropped it. dick never buttoned up shirts wrong, aligning each button with the right hole perfectly on the first try. dick could plug in usb ports the right way. dick always remembered which light switch was for which room, no matter whose house they were at. dick could pop a cd out of its case without ever smudging the disk, holding it by the rim perfectly. and dick always seemed to know when wally needed a day off, to just visit their old haunts, grab some ice cream, and spend the day talking away on a rooftop. that was just something his best friend could do. and wally would never tell dick, but underneath his fake irritation at it, but he loved him for it.
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Work It Out
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Summary: Spencer realizes that he might just have feelings for his neighbor after seeing her in her workout gear.
A/N: I boofed it. Trying to write a blurb and I ended up writing a whole fic. I will never learn.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (Implied that reader is athletic but no mention of her body type)
Category: Smut, Angst, Fluff
Warnings/Includes: bad communication, cursing, smut, graphic descriptions of sexual acts, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, light spanking, please let me know if there’s anything I’ve missed!
Word count: 2.7k
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Requests Filled: 
“blurb idea that’s been living in my head, rent-free: reader is spencer’s neighbor and a dancer, who he has a huge crush on. spencer goes over to her apartment to borrow something and interrupts her daily stretches and spencer gets all flustered because she’s wearing leggings and a sports bra, and she’s so flexible”
“okay so this next thought came to my mind while i was doing some exercise lol: imagine that u started a new routine and you feel super tired at the ten minutes of the video haha, then spencer came back to work and when he see u doing some squats he's so turn on and then he just get close to you from behind and whispers "c'mon bunny, u can't with this, the only thing that u can handle is my cock" and then he just fuck y/n so hard aaaaaaaaa btw i'm the anon who sent that visual the past week of Twitter about the flowery lingerie 😌🙏🏻 —🥀”
“okay so like reader working out in Spencer’s apartment and he’s just watching her and getting all worked up. reader noticed and starts teasing him until he can’t handle it - 🐍”
-- -- --
They’d struck up a friendship almost instantly, from that first day that she moved in. He tried to help her with her boxes but he almost felt like he was holding her back, he got winded just going up and down the stairs on his own, let alone while he carried an entire box he later found out had been full of books. She laughed at him when he placed it down on her kitchen table and read the permanent marker label on the side. He still remembers how light her laugh had made him feel, how perfect it was.
From that first day things were just easy, effortless. He liked that he didn’t have to think around her, about work, about anything, he always felt so comfortable around her. Until that day.
The day that he couldn’t find his dustpan and brush after breaking a glass, so he went next door to see if she had one he could borrow. When he knocked on the door and heard a small ‘it’s open’, he walked in as normal, but nothing could’ve prepared him for the sight.
The furniture in her living room was pushed to the walls as she stretched in the centre of the room. He was sure there must’ve been a name for the pose she was in, but all he could concentrate on in that moment was how her body looked in the spandex of her leggings and sports bra. The smooth way her body contorted into strange shapes, the way her back arched so perfectly, and the way he could make out every curve of her body in a way he’d never really noticed before.
Thankfully she didn’t seem to notice his staring as she concentrated on her movements before finishing up her pose.
“What’s up Spence?” she breathed once she relaxed, turning her eyes to him.
And for a moment he wanted to turn around and run away. He was almost positive that his face was a glowing shade of pink, he could feel the heat as it radiated off of his cheeks while she looked at him expectantly.
“Uh, I um- A glass!” he stuttered out, “I broke a glass” he finally managed but she still just looked up at him with a puzzled expression.
“Okay, we’re really low on news today I see” she laughed, and he sort of wished she hadn’t, because it’s his absolute favorite sound.
“Sorry, I wanted to- I uh- I came over to see if you had a sweeping brush?” the words almost get caught in his throat but he fights to get them out, and he’s more proud than he really should be.
“Oh, under the sink!” she tells him, and he makes quick work of finding it before mumbling his ‘thanks’ and rushing back to the safety of his own apartment.
It’s a day he could never forget, even if his memory was normal. And part of him wished he could forget, because he knows that that’s the day he started treating her differently. It wasn’t easy or simple anymore. It was awkward and strange and he had a huge, stupid crush on her.
-- --
It doesn’t take long for her to notice the little changes in his behavior, the way he avoids her in the halls, or always seems to be inexplicably busy whenever she tries to make plans. And on the odd occasion that they do speak he never seems to be able to hold eye contact. It continues like that for a while until she just can’t take it for another second.
She waits until she knows he’s home, staring out the peephole at the door opposite hers until she sees him open it up and walk inside. She gives him about 5 minutes before she marches over and slams her fist against the door, a lot more urgent than necessary.
When he opens the door he looks tired and deflated, and his tie is undone, hanging around his neck. She can see the fatigue leave his features a second later, only to be replaced by a look of pure shock.
“Y/N?” he asks, like he’s not sure she’s really even there.
“Yeah, can I come in?” she asks, but she’s already maneuvering past him and into his living room like she’d done so many times before he’d gotten strange.
“What are you doing here?” he manages to get out once his shock subsides.
“What’s going on with you Spence? We’re best friends until one day you decide you don’t like me? What’s that about, I just have to pretend like I live next door to a stranger now?”
He looks like a deer caught in headlights. She’s not even sure she can see him breathing as his face begins to flush.
“I’m sorry” he breathes out first, “I wasn’t trying to- okay I was avoiding you, but it’s not because I don’t like you”
“Sure seems like it” she sighs, and for a second he looks heartbroken.
“No!” he blurts out, “It’s not that, I swear” he shakes his head, reaching out to touch her before retracting his grip, thinking the better of it.
“Then what is it Spence?” she looks at him with a softness now, with a pleading behind her eyes, and he can’t hold back anymore.
“It’s because I do like you” he says it like he’s relieved, like it had been gnawing at him, “Because I really like you”
“Like me?” she asks, the realization finally dawning. “As in...”
“As in... romantically?” he can’t look at her when he says it, closing his eyes as if he’s bracing for impact. But the next thing he hears is his favorite sound once again. She laughs at him. It’s not cynical, or rude, it’s the kind that’s filled with joy, and maybe just a little exasperation.
“Well I wish you’d’ve told me that sooner” she says once she’s calmed down, and when he opens his eyes she’s smiling at him, taking a step closer.
“You do?”
“Mmhmm” she nods, “That way, I could’ve let you know all about this crush I’ve been harboring on you for a while now.”
He doesn’t have time to think before she’s got her lips on his, soft and delicate against him. For a minute he can’t really understand what’s happening as her hands reach up to cup his face softly, and they stay there after she pulls back. Her thumbs gently grazing his cheekbones as she admires his shocked expression.
“You’ve had a crush on me?” is the first thing he thinks to say, and she nods, smiling up at him.
“Since that first day when you helped me move in” she admits, and the timeline clicks in his head. She’s wanted this longer than he even had. Something about it puts his mind at ease, the though of being desirable to someone like her just makes him swell with pride in a way he’s not even sure he understands.
“Oh” is all he manages to get out though.
“I know, we gotta work on your self confidence because you, Spencer Reid, are a catch” she smiles at him before diving in for their second kiss.
-- --
It’s probably too crass to say out loud, but his favorite part about moving in together is undoubtedly, her daily exercise routine. Sometimes it’s in the morning, sometimes the afternoon, sometimes the evening. He’s actually starting to suspect that she times it for when she knows he’ll be around to see it.
He waited a little while to confess just know much he thought about her in those leggings. The lilac ones that were still in her rotation. Not that he didn’t find her sexy all of the time, he really did. But there was just something, maybe pavlovian, about seeing her in those lilac leggings. The way they hugged her body, he always found himself staring more than he was proud of.
Whatever routine she’s following this morning has her just a little out of breath. And he pretends to be reading the paper at his desk while she pants less than 10 feet away from him. The sound alone is distracting, but when he glances up and he can see her doing squats, all he can focus on is her ass in those fucking leggings.
“8, 9.... 10″ she breathes out, finishing off with a small groan.
“Too hard?” he chuckles, giving in and laying his paper down.
“No way, I can handle it” she turns around to grin at him before turning back around, starting into another set, counting them out slowly.
He seizes the opportunity and gets up out of his chair, making his way quietly over to her while she concentrates on her form. When he’s finally behind her she’s nearly out of breath again, pushing through the last rep when his hand snakes around her waist and pulls her back against him. He leans in to her ear as he whispers.
“C’mon Bunny, I guess you can handle your squats, but can you handle this” he almost moans it as he presses his already hard cock right up against her ass.
“Fuck” she breathes out in a little gasp, her hands moving up into his hair to pull him closer.
“Do you think you can handle it Bunny?” he groans again, grinding himself against her this time.
“Yes! Yes Spencer please, I can take it” she moans out as his hands begin to roam over her body, gently tracing along the exposed skin between her bra and her leggings, feeling the warmth of it.
“Then be a good Bunny and bend over for me, okay?” he growls against her ear and she moves fast, bending over the back of the sofa, and presenting herself to him. He takes a step back to admire the view for a moment before he’s got his hands on her body again. His fingers go straight to the waistband of the leggings, tugging the smooth fabric down, pulling it until it's gathered around her feet, quickly doing the same with her panties until there was nothing in his way.
“Fuck, you look so good like this” he groans, a soft hand caressing the smooth skin of her ass before rising up and coming back down with a loud slap, followed by a high pitched whine from her.
“Did you like that Bunny?” he asks, gripping a rough handful of her ass as she moans out a meek ‘yes’
So he repeats the action, pulling his hand up only to slam it back down again rough and excited against the now sensitive skin.
“Fuck” she purrs, her legs closing, thighs moving together in an attempt to get some friction. But he puts a stop to that right away, placing one of his feet between hers and kicking them apart so her legs were spread for him.
“If you wanted something Bunny, all you had to do was ask” he teases, moving his hand along the curve of her ass until it was hovering between her legs, where she was desperate and wanting. He purposefully lingers just a moment too long before pushing two fingers inside of her. He’s rewarded with a low moan that pours out of her.
“So wet from just a little spanking, you’re so good for me” he groans, “Do you think you can handle my cock yet sweetheart?”
She can’t help the way she clenches and tightens around his fingers at the very thought. It’s not like they didn’t fill her up, they were so much longer and more agile than her own fingers, but nothing could really compare to his cock.
“Fuck, please” she whimpers, wiggling her hips just a little as though that might help convince him that she deserved it.
“Such a good girl, I think you’ve earned it” as he speaks he pulls his fingers gently out of her, and she forces herself not to while at the loss of contact. He pulls his cock out of his boxers, pumping it himself a few times before he lines up behind her. Though they both love this position, she can’t help but miss watching him. The way his eyes close and and he bites his perfect plump bottom lip. But then he’s easing in and the feeling of him is enough to eclipse every other thought in her head.
“Oh god! Spencer!” she stutters out a moan, her hands flying forward to grab at the cushions on the sofa, digging her fingers into the soft down.
“You feel so good Bunny, always so wet for me” he groans as he pushes the whole way in, burying himself right up to the hilt.
His hands make their home on either side of her hips, his grip is tight as he pulls her back against him at the same time that he pushes his hips forward, slamming in on each thrust with everything he’s got.
Hips hit against her ass each time, rocking right up against the quickly forming handprint there whenever their skin collides. The slight burn only intensifying the already overwhelming pleasure.
“So- ah- I’m so close” she manages to moan out in between all the gasps and pants, and without speaking Spencer reaches down to grab the straps at the back of her sports bra, using the leverage to pull her back up. Meeting her halfway he presses his chest right up against her back, one hand snaking around to loosely grip her throat. The other making its way down between her legs.
“Fuck- Spencer- I-” she gasps at his fingers start to run in small circles around her swollen clit, his hips continuing their motions at the same time. All of it building dangerously fast.
“What’s the matter? Too much for you Bunny?” he teases with a groan, right against her ear.
“No!” she rushes out, one of her hands bracing herself against the back of the sofa, the other draping itself loosely over his hand between her legs, encouraging but not interfering with its movements.
“That’s a good girl. Are you gonna cum all over my cock Bunny?”
She doesn’t have time to answer his question before she’s putty in his hands. Melting into his grip as he continues to move inside of her and against her. The only thing keeping her from falling to the ground is her loose grip on the edge of the sofa and Spencers hand around her neck as she moans out his name.
It’s only a few seconds later that his hips begin to stutter and both of his hands are on her hips again, pulling them tight against his own as he grows closer and closer. And then he’s cumming with a rough groan and a bunch of shallow breaths, filling her up entirely as she begins to slump against the sofa once again.
“Spence, fuck” she says with a deep breath, “That was unbelievable”
They’re both covered in a layer of sweat now, and Spencer can feel the hair that’s probably stuck to his forehead. In his exhausted state all he really wants to do is lay down against her back, gathering their breathing again. But he knows that’s just his cloudy mind talking. So he manages to loosen his grip on her hips and pull out slowly before rushing to the bathroom to get a warm washcloth.
He takes it and gently cleans the mess that he made between her legs before it gets the chance to drip down. Once she’s clean he helps her stand upright once again.
Although he’d come a long way with his self confidence there were still times like this where he let himself feel awkward, or unsure. Especially right after he’d just been so bold. But in times like this she knows exactly what to do. Rising up, she places her hands on either side of his face and kisses him, soft and gentle, just for a moment, before pulling back again to look at him.
“Shower?”
-- -- --
Thank you so much for reading x 
-- -- --
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oh-for-fic-sake · 3 years
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Tik Tok Leggings
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Summary: Time to test these Tik tok leggings.
Warnings: swearing, Fluff, Cheeky Henry, Suggestive Themes, Plus sized reader
A/N: Just wanted to do something different thinking of maybe having a mini TikTok onshot series but unsure yet. Either way I hope you enjoy and happy Easter to those who celebrate  and those who don't? Have a brilliant Sunday xx
Taglist: will be in comment/reblogs
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You eyed the package wearily... just how the fuck were you meant to pull this off? Slowly but surely the confidence  and 'fuck it' attitude was waning. They looked small.... very small.
You huffed a sigh looking at yourself in the mirror eyeing your form. You swear you'd gained some more weight, just a few pounds maybe? But you felt huge. Slowly you unravelled the leggings, it had been a good idea at the time but now you wasn't so sure. They were expensive and even thought you bought them as a little prank you did hope they would boost you confidence or at least be comfy enough to wear around the house.
Being a larger girl it was hard finding comfy clothes and you had to be comfy now that your boys were running around the house like headless chickens. You thought the terrible twos with trainers were bad? Your four year olds had scooters!
You grit your teeth and decided to try the leggings on gearing up for an all put war with the waist band but was pleasantly surprized. The fabric was firm and tummy controlling without feeling you feeling caught by a bloody boa constrictor! A comfy tight not spandex tight. You casually wondered about seeing if the company did bras, this shit would stop the girls from trying to knock you out on the stairs!
You pulled the material setting the... elasticated seam in your ass crack and winced... Okay that's a little strange... but not unpleasant and almost thong. You spun around eyeing yourself in to mirror. You didn't look to bad, if you said so yourself. Sure you wasn't magically strim and fit, you were blessed with a nice thick ass... but unfortunately had the thick hips and large thighs to go with it. You'd never be petite or dainty, but then again henry was huge behemoth of a man so you didn't need to be. As he said on many occasions he wanted a woman as thick as him... and you definitely fit that bill. His thighs were only slightly bigger then yours.
You turned around a few more times. Fuck okay hello there~ you grinned. You may not be the perfect sized woman but fuck if your ass wasn't glorious in these leggings~ this just might work.
You grinned and pulled on one of Henry's tshirts, the grey marines one it was snug and would ride up a little over your tummy showing off your bubble but that you felt was your best feature. And then padded downstairs, henry. Was in the large garden trying to teach the boys how to play rugby... Wanting to start them young.
You pottered about the kitchen chopping up the salad for tonight. Contrary to what people thought you were not large because you ate to much or did little exercise, you had always been bigger and admittedly since having the boys you had gained a little more weight but not ridiculously, you wasn't dangerously over weight.
You hummed looking out the patio door seeing henry jumping for joy as his boys and Kal played 'rugby' darting across the garden to the tiny rugby post at the end. Moving to Jersey to raise the kids was a brilliant idea, you had a huge country house with the land to go with it. Flat and immaculate that spread around the house in nearly four acres the lawn was mostly to the back and side and cornered off with tall hedge rows then beyond it a cornered off veggie plot and greenhouse and a work in progress chicken coop. Soon there will be a decent sized pond and some ducks... Henry didn't know yet, but if he was allowed to have a stables built four god knows how many horses you were allowed your ducks god dammit.
You grinned watching as henry ran around both the boys with his phone out cheering them on as they tor across the garden wrestling each other for the ball. You had panicked when you were told twin boys but you should have known henry would be able to handle it. It was perfect, days like this when he was home and strived to make his sons lives as magical and fun as he could, everyday was a holiday when dad was home.
You shook your head seeing the boys both lay on the floor in the shade completely tuckered out from the mornings fun. Henry can into the kitchen and you held your breath quickly bending over the counter a tad more then normal hoping to get a favourable reaction from your husband. But you couldn't help the tinge of doubt  what if he didn't like them? Or thought you looked bigger then you were?
"Hey sweetheart are the boys fruit shoots in the fri-oh sweet baby Jesus" he coughed cutting himself off  and took a half step back as he came in the kitchen. You giggled and turned to him then nodded your head to the fridge.
"Yeah their in there love" you said smirking and blushing as you saw him eyeing your ass tilting his head slowly down trying to get a better look at your ass making you bite your lip.
"Err yeah yeah... I... hold that thought" he said snapping out of it holding a finger up at you and looked to his phone.
"You just stay right were you are- no nope over bend over again babe... fuck me how did I get such a sexy little mama~" he growled one hand swiping over his screen. You flushed and wriggled our hips a little as you leant forward feeling on top of the world as he openly gawked at your ass. For a second you thought he was taking a photo and made to move wanting to snap up right but he napped his fingers to you pointing for you to get back down and brought the phone to his ear.
"Henry what are you?-" you tried standing once more but he crossed the kitchen pressing himself up against your ass and rocked slowly making you mewl as his bulge pressed against your ass half hard already. Henry huge hand pressed you down on the counter before him and winked then he spoke as who ever was on the phone answered.
"Hey mum, hi can you come get the boys?" He asked and you gasped at him shaking your head at him laughing. He wasn't palming the kids off to their grandparents because he wanted a midday fuck! Not that Marie-Ann would mind, she loved hosting the kids and frequently showed up out of the blue and took them out for the day. She was adamant that both you and henry still had alone time.
"No, no everything's all right I just- somethings come up~" he smirked and you laughed loud shaking your head at him, he was a little bugger! He wriggled his brows at you and nodded then flushed stuttering for a few comments.
"I.. No no of course not mum... muuuum stop- well yeah... yes I know you were young once-oh shit no I didn't mean of course your still young! Your in your prime! Okay yes, yes I promise to try my hardest... yes okay, see you in ten okay love you bye... bye mum I will. Yes I will mum bye" he muttered slowly moving through being embarrassed, shy and strangely confident before hanging up.
"Soo the boys are going out?" You giggled finding the way he reacted ridiculously cute. It wasn't what you expected, maybe a kiss on the cheek and a slap on the ass. But not him shipping the kids off for the day.
"And staying over night" Henry muttered moving both hands to your ass and squeezed and rolled the cheeks about making you squeak and try rising on your tip toes but he just growled following pressing a kiss to your neck.
"And what have we agreed to for this mighty generous gift? What have you promised?" You said arching back into him with a teasing tone knowing Marie would make henry pay for the 'young once' comment.
"Oh you know nothing too big just another grandchild, which wont be hard with these in your closet" he chuckled pinging the fabric that clung to your ass like a second skin. You flushed gasping out at him batting him away slowly. But it was a hard fought battle, Henry won easily sliding the cutting board back then let you spin to face him. He quickly hoisted you up onto the counter top behind you and kissed your lips moaning into you before pulling back and pointed at you.
"Right you stay- right here. Don't you move a muscle Mrs Cavill" he said seriously and backed away from you still pointing making you laugh and kick your feet biting your lip before nodding. Henry backed up to the back door and called out to the boys.
"Boys come on! Your going to grandmas for a sleep over! Go pack a bag, jammies, tooth brush and clothes for tomorrow! Come on mush hop it or cop it!" he called you smiled hearing two high pitch excited voices squealing at the thought of grandma. She spoilt them rotten. They dashed into the house quickly running past the both of you giggle as henry tried playfully nudging them on the bottoms with his foot when they ran through the kitchen to dart up the stairs and pack an overnight bag. Henry slunk out of the kitchen following the boys but kept glancing back at you.
"Remember right there babe, been too long since we fucked in here~" he growled making you flush remembering the last time you'd made love in here. It'd been when you were pregnant, the day you moved in before you redecorated you'd had Chinese take out and then made love in every room in the house.
"I'll be right here love I promise, now... You might want to sort yourself out before answering the door to your mother~" you teased pointing to the large lump in the front of his shorts making him grunt and cup himself trying to reposition himself and left the kitchen to help the boys pack.
You can safely say, these leggings were a success. You were definitely leaving a five star review... You did however regret not filming his reaction for tiktok. Honestly you didn't even have the app your sister in law had shown you and you thought it'd be something fun to try with Henry. You may just get more than you bargained for though, not that you minded... You just hoped you had a girl this time, it was about time to try and even things out a bit.
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lumosinlove · 3 years
Text
Vaincre
~
It’s here!! Thank you all for the support of this universe, it truly means so very much to me. Every time I get a comment, or get to read the fan fiction you all write, see the art you create...it just fills me with so much joy. I’m so excited to share the Sweater Weather sequel with you, Vaincre! Go Lions!
cw: brief mention of past injury and past abuse
~
part i: July
I’ve been holding my breath
I’ve been counting to ten
~
The media wasn’t kind. There were network shows and blogs. Magazines and papers and podcasts. Not to mention Twitter.
Remus had heard his name on all of them, even if he wasn’t listening. It was part of Alice’s job to make sure he knew what was being said about him. It was his job to tune most of it out. Some outrage. Some elation. Some confusion.
This is my question, one podcast asked. I mean, I’m happy for Black. Lupin, too. I’m happy for the hockey world to have this happen, it’s about time, I mean, tune it, come on, and all that.
I’m confused about the, you know, ‘let’s put the PT on the roster.’ I’ve seen college clips, like, those have been released, we know that he got injured, we know all that. He’s fast, we know that, too. But a lot of guys are fast.
Just…what a move by Coach Weasley. A good move? I don’t know. I really don’t know.
Remus had always loved to run. It cleared his head. It had been one of the forms of exercise he had been able to do first once his shoulder had healed, before weights or any sort of strength training. His therapists had recommended it. Endorphins, they had said.
But Remus liked it because it was the closest he had been able to get to gliding on the ice, even when he still couldn’t stand to even look at a rink.
A good move? I don’t know. I really don’t know.
Remus was used to not knowing. He was beginning to think he thrived on it. Would he play hockey again? Would he ever find love? Would Sirius want him?
Was this really happening?
He didn’t think of dreams as coming so late, but, then again, why should dreams be put on any sort of time schedule?
Now, he banged out the screen door and onto the rickety, well-loved porch of the lake house that had been passed down through his family for years. His mother and her brothers split it up in the summer, overlapping for a week or so, and there were always little gifts left behind for each family at the trade-off. A bottle of the best maple syrup, or some of the local honey. They were small, but Remus smiled when he saw what his uncle and aunt and cousins had left for him and Sirius after his parents and Julian had given them the month of July with the house to themselves. A little flower arrangement with two hockey sticks, carved out of wood, sticking up in the middle.
Sirius had plucked one from the dirt, twirled it over in his fingers, and smiled.
“Your family will never stop surprising me.”
Green Lake was deep, prime for fishing, and gorgeous. The smell of the water, of the soil and sweet summer air was as good as home to Remus. He breathed it in now as he bent to lace up his sneakers. He could smell the fire pit that they had lit last night, one that he and Julian had roasted thousands of marshmallows over.
“I showed Jules how to roast the perfect marshmallow here,” Remus had said that first July night, leaning back against Sirius’ chest.
Sirius had blew out his burnt-black one. “Like this?”
Remus had scoffed. “No, you heathen.”
Sirius looked good here, surrounded by the woods and rusty cabin, wearing the old fleeces that never seemed to leave this place for when the sun had yet to warm the chilly mornings. Some mornings, they’d make their coffee, tangle their socked feet together on the small couch until the sun began to get high and they’d strip it all off in favor of swimsuits and sunscreen. Other mornings, Remus would rise, pressing a gentle kiss to Sirius’ sleeping face, and take to the dirt road that ran around the lake.
Sirius, just off of the hard won playoffs, needed to rest. Remus needed to train.
A good move? I don’t know. I really don’t know.
They would leave in two days for Pascal’s Cup Day celebration, and then to meet Remus’ parents, his little brother Julian, and Regulus back in Gryffindor for Sirius’ Cup Day. And August training. Remus stretched his hands to his toes and closed his eyes. A strange type of adrenaline filled him whenever he thought about practicing with the team, about the fitness tests that would come first. He’d have to prove himself again and again. He wanted to. But part of him wondered what would happen if he couldn’t.
The screen door squeaked open and shut again, and Remus jumped, looking up to find Sirius, still sleep rumpled, standing there in running shorts.
Remus laughed, reaching up to trace a pillow crease in his cheek. “You’re supposed to be sleeping in while you can.”
Sirius let out a grumbly sort of yawn and gathered his hair, long from the summer and just brushing his chin now, back into a small half-up bun.
“I can’t believe you do this before coffee.”
“Too acidic. Gives you running stitches.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Sirius sighed, and threw his arm around Remus’ shoulders as they walked up the steep driveway to the road.
Remus kissed his wrist. “I’ll miss being here with you.”
Sirius smiled. He was tan from the summer, hair dark as ever and his skin sun-kissed.
Remus leaned into his shoulder. “I mean look at you. I like seeing you this relaxed.”
Sirius bit his lip as the rounded a bend, waving at Mrs. Barrow, who was tending to her garden.
“I don’t think I knew I could be this relaxed,” Sirius admitted. “It was always train, train, train, you didn’t get a Cup, try harder.”
Remus was familiar with the notes that appeared in Sirius’ voice now from years of Sirius’ small slips in conversation, even when, to Remus, Sirius had only been they youngest captain in the league, cold and reserved from even more years of his father’s abusive, relentless attitude towards hockey and Sirius’ skills. Even when Remus had only been the team’s physical therapist, closeted, crushing on Sirius, and surprised by the cracks Sirius showed when he had gotten his ankle smashed by Severus Snape, Captain of the Slytherin Snakes—the Gryffindor Lions greatest rivalry. Pain, it had seemed, and fear of never stepping on the ice again, had given Remus his first glimpses into a different Sirius beneath it all, a boy who was filled with much more than just a need to win, but for whom the want of winning only made him love his sport, and his team, more.
“And now that you have a Cup?” Remus asked. “How’re you feeling?”
They came to the road and Sirius balanced on one foot, stretching his thigh. “Now that I have you,” he said. “I’m feeling just fine.”
Remus snorted. “Yeah, the Stanley Cup Champion part has nothing to do with it.”
Sirius laughed, but took Remus’ face between his palms. “If I didn’t have you, and I had only a Cup, all I would be doing right now is thinking about another Cup.”
Remus put a hand on his chest, fingers finding the number twelve pendant that rested there.
“Now, there’s more,” Sirius said simply, and leaned down for a tender kiss. “Like your mother’s peach pie.”
Remus punched him in the arm as Sirius laughed loudly.
“You’ll have to beat me if you want a slice of that!” Remus called as he took off.
Sirius made a wounded noise, but sprinted after him until they were side by side again.
~
“I don’t think I can leave this beach,” Leo mumbled into the lounging cabana they were spread out beneath, and Logan looked down at him from where he was reading—trying to read—one of the books Finn had given him. He didn’t know how many books Finn had tried to get him to read over the years, but he knew he never made it through more than a few pages without looking up, getting distracted, or having to go back.
“Non?” Logan asked.
Leo shook his head. “The sun. The sea. I’m in heaven.”
“What about hockey?”
“Brr.”
Logan laughed and settled back into the pillows, setting the book aside and rolling towards Leo to feel his sun-warmed back and leaned down to kiss his temple. A private beach definitely had its perks—and so did three hockey salaries.
“We’ll just stay here, then.”
They’d had a good summer. Leo’s Cup Day, Finn’s, his own, all in their hometowns and accompanied by large parades and fanfare. Logan had finally gotten to take Leo home to his sisters and parents for the first time. It had been nice to see Finn around his family again, too, after what felt like eons of avoiding him in that small gap between being at Harvard and then them both making it to the NHL, and to the Lions.
Leo’s sleepy smile up at him melted Logan like ice in the sun.
“Okay, good,” Leo said, then his eyes went behind Logan. “There’s the ghost-on-toast with our drinks.”
Logan snorted and looked up to see Finn—and Finn’s tiny blue swim shorts that he insisted weren’t see-through—walking towards them through the sand from the resort bar with a tray of drinks in his hands.
“Hey, lover-nuts,” Finn said as he set the tray down in the shade. “Got us some snacks, too. That bar tender loves me.”
“You are so pale,” Leo laughed. “I love you, though, please put more sunscreen on.”
“Keep your sandy feet off my towel,” Logan nudged Finn’s foot with his own as he reached for his drink. Finn just smiled and nodded at the book.
“How is it?” Finn asked.
Logan just looked at him.
He laughed and ran a hand through Logan’s salty, damp hair. “I know. I’ll read it to you later. I just thought you might want something for the beach!”
Logan held up his cocktail. “I have something for the beach.”
They settled back under their cabana, the thin, white linen curtains fluttering around them in the three o’clock breeze. Maybe Logan, as he closed his eyes between Leo and Finn, Leo’s hand still on his thigh, Finn’s arm pillowing the back of his neck, never wanted to leave this beach, either.
“Back to Gryffindor tomorrow,” Logan said.
“Group chat says most guys’ll be back this week,” Finn said, squinting at his phone over his sunglasses. “We gotta be back for Dumo’s, and then Cap’s Cup Day. That’ll be nice, man.”
“I like that they’re bringing it to Gryffindor Pride,” Leo said, rolling onto his back. “Should have thought of that. Or, I guess…” Leo trailed off and Logan frowned. They couldn’t do that. Not yet, at least. Leo caught Logan’s expression and rested a reassuring hand on his thigh. “I’m glad we get to go, even if its for them on the surface. That’s real thoughtful of them, you know?”
Logan nodded. It was thoughtful. When Remus and Sirius had brought it up to them, he’d found himself getting a little choked up.
“We want you guys to be able to experience that, too,” Remus had said. “If you want. No matter what you decide to do public-wise in the future.”
Finn clicked his phone off and chucked it to the side. “Hey, don’t take me off island time yet. We’ll order to the room, eat on the deck, hike up and stargaze…”
Finn rattled off the perfect list, tilting towards Logan until their lips met.
“And then we’ll go win another Cup.”
Leo and Logan punched him at the same time.
~
Thomas sat in the shade with Kasey as they watched Alex try to take on Natalie and Noelle at pool basketball.
“I really think they’re going to accidentally drown him,” Thomas said thoughtfully.
“He probably thinks that, too, and is just too competitive to stop,” Kasey replied.
Thomas laughed, and held out his beer to cheers.
“This is a nice house the O’Haras have, man,” he looked at the sparkling ocean beyond the steps and fence, and at the pool with the grill and lounge chairs. They’d only come up for the weekend, between training and visiting their own families, and before returning to Gryffindor for the season.
“Tell me about it.”
“Cheating!” Alex spluttered from the pool as Natalie put all of her weight on him to dunk him under the water. Alex pointed very seriously to the foot marker on the side tile. “We agreed from that to Thomas’ chair, I was too far away!”
“Too bad!” Noelle shouted as she made another basket.
Thomas didn’t think it was the alcohol that made him feel a little fuzzy at the edges as he looked over her in her swimsuit. She was all curves of tanned muscle, softened the summer around her stomach and arms. Thomas was a goner. But she seemed pretty gone, too, so he guessed it was all right.
“This moment’s always rough,” Kasey said softly from beside him, and when Thomas looked at him questioningly, he gestured vaguely with his beer. “The end of July. One more month, but not really. Alex’ll go back for training, you know? It’s like a trick. I always think, I get three months with these two. But it’s more like two and the first week of August.”
Thomas nodded. “I know. Noelle, too. Her training camp starts on the eight. I’m just…”
Kasey sighed in sympathy.
“At least you have Nat, you know?” Thomas said. “Not that I’m saying you have it easier, I just…”
Kasey shook his head. “I know. Believe me, I’m thankful for that every day. But…when you miss someone, you miss someone.”
Thomas nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, exactly.”
Last season hadn’t been too bad. His relationship with Noelle had been new. They only really knew FaceTime dates, and squeezed in weekend flights that sometimes left them more exhausted than sated. They had been taking it slow. Thomas had been kissed by Noelle—a lot. Enough to make him dizzy with it. Only, then she’d met him at the airport in Quebec, they’d spent a month with her family in France…
And Thomas wasn’t sure he knew how to do just FaceTime anymore. There was a new yearning, knotted just below his heart. He knew what her skin felt like under his hands now, knew what she looked like right when she waked up, even her skincare routine before bed. It would feel like being away from the ice for too long, the knot pulling tight. He thought this year was going to be harder. Maybe he knew it, but if he did, he was pretending it might be easy still.
“T,” Noelle called, floating on her back, dark hair fanned out in the water. “C’mere!”
Thomas smiled, setting his drink down. He would come, whenever she called. Wherever.
~
Cole Reyes didn’t know if Adele Dumais staring at him the way she was was a good thing, or a bad thing. He was nervous enough without the seemingly disapproval of Pascal Dumais'—the Pascal Dumais of the Gryffindor Lions, oldest player in the league—teenage daughter.
“Don’t you talk?” Marc, one of his sons, asked.
Cole blinked. “Uh. Yeah. Yeah.”
Adele waved her brother off. “They’re always super nervous at first. Remember Sirius?”
Marc scoffed. “I was a baby.”
Cole let out a breath. Now they were casually talking about Sirius Black, who had lived in the very room Cole had been sleeping in for a week now when he was a rookie, too. It was the same with Logan Tremblay. He felt like he needed to keep the room pristine, like he was living in some Hockey Hall of Fame museum that he had not earned the right to be in yet.
“You’re still a baby,” Adele shot back.
“Kids,” came Celeste, Pascal’s wife’s voice from where she was setting the table. “Come on now.”
“Sorry, maman,” Marc said softly.
“Sorry,” Adele sighed more reluctantly.
“Go help your father with the grill, you two,” she said. “Everyone will be arriving soon.”
Katie, Celeste and Pascal’s youngest daughter, perked up from where she was sitting beside Cole, drawing. Not Pascal, Dumo—Cole kept having to remind himself that he could call Pascal by his nickname now, that it was all official, that he was a Gryffindor Lion, too. Katie hadn’t left his side since he arrived a week ago to billet with the Dumais, and he still wasn’t sure what to make of it.
“Even the Cup?” she asked.
Celeste laughed. “Oui, ma cherie. Cole? Would you mind going to get the flowers for the table? They’re on the kitchen counter, just inside.”
“Oh, sure, Mrs. Dumais,” Cole nodded, glad for something to do. The thought of the Cup arriving gave him the chills. He’d have to be careful not to touch it. He was scared to even look at it, to be honest. His mom would be laughing at him right about now. He wanted to call her afterwards, tell her everything.
“Call me Celeste, I told you, please,” Celeste smiled. She was lovely, with her dark hair twisted and clipped up and a summer dress as green as her eyes, silky against her olive skin.
Cole flushed, but smiled. “Celeste.”
Cole made his way through the sliding door from the back yard and through the dining room. The kitchen was one of the biggest rooms in the house—and it was a big house. Beautiful copper pans hung shining above the island, along with some herbs that Celeste grew and dried herself. It looked like something out of a magazine to Cole, and it was nice, but it wouldn’t beat his mom’s kitchen in the small apartment they shared in Boston. The small space would fill up to the brim with the smell of spices, or cobbler. The thought sent a pang right to his heart. He missed home, that was for sure. After being away for so long, for so many hockey camps, he’d hoped he would be more used to it by now.
The flowers were right where Celeste had said they would be, and he was reaching for one when the back door that led to the garage dinged open. Cole froze, sure that he was about to run into captain Sirius Black completely unprepared, when a girl stepped through instead. She was dressed in denim shorts and a white tank top, had dark brown skin, and a Gryffindor College hat over her hair, which was plaited back into many small braids.
She smiled when she saw him. No sign of surprised, or of the nervousness Cole felt when he met basically anyone.
“You must be Cole,” she said.
Cole nodded. The girl was gorgeous. Cole was a mess of nerves already. He didn’t need the stare of the teenage daughter of one of his idols, but he especially could not handle a beautiful girl right now.
“Yeah,” Cole said. “No, yeah, um. Yes.”
The girl strode forward, setting her bag down on the counter, along with a water bottle decorated in stickers. He caught a few Lions ones. She offered her hand, which was slender and had two golden rings on it. “I’m Layla. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
Cole took it, trying to place her. “Nice to meet you.”
“Oh, I babysit for the Dumais family,” she said in explanation, then waved her hand. “Well, this year, at least. I’m actually—we’re going to be working together.”
Cole blinked. “You mean the Lions?”
She nodded. “I’m in the middle of my undergrad for physical therapy. Dumo’s amazing and he got me an internship under the new PT. You know. I’ll probably get you stick tape or something,” she laughed. “Congrats, by the way.”
Cole tilted his head and she raised an eyebrow.
“On making it to the NHL?”
“Oh,” Cole laughed. “Oh, I, yeah, thanks. You, too—or…yeah.”
Cole was going to stay in his room in the basement and never come out.
“I gotta—Mrs. Du—Celeste wants these flowers outside,” he said, picking the vases up.
“Sure thing,” Layla smiled.
“Layla,” came a shriek, and a moment later Katie Dumais came sprinting into the kitchen and wrapped herself around Layla’s legs and smiled at Cole. “This is my new hockey player.”
Cole couldn’t help but laugh. He didn’t have a lot of experience with kids, but Katie sure was cute.
“Yours?” Layla gasped as she smiled at Cole. “He’s all yours, is he?”
Katie nodded. “Like Tremzy and Sirius. His name is Cole, like when Santa Clause doesn’t like you.”
Again, with the casual mentions of Logan Tremblay and Sirius Black.
“Oh, of course,” Layla laughed. “Well, I’m sure Santa Clause has never not liked you, babes. Let’s go let your mom know I’m here, okay? Your new hockey player can come with us, too.”
“He’s yours, too!” Katie insisted. “You’re here all the time, so he’s yours, too, don’t worry.”
“Oh, good,” Layla said. “I was worried.”
When Katie looked at Cole expectedly, Cole managed, “I guess everyone does need a hockey player?”
“Exactly!” Katie squealed, and Cole could only follow them outside, heart pounding.
~
It was good to be back in Gryffindor. Remus and Sirius had dropped their bags in Sirius’ entryway, said hello to Regulus, showered, and then hopped right back in the car to get to Pascal’s house.
“You two look disgustingly happy,” Regulus said, leaning forward from the back seat.
“We are,” Sirius grinned at him in the review mirror. “I am also happy,” he stroked the leather steering wheel of his Range Rover. “To be back with this baby.”
While Sirius’ hair had grown longer, Regulus had shaved his short. The curls were barely curls at all anymore, but Remus was happy to see that his seemingly ever-present dark circles had receded some.
“Why, thank you, Regulus, you look happy, too,” Remus snorted. “When do you leave for NYU’s orientation?”
“August 23rd,” he said. “Been texting with my housemates, too. They seem cool.”
“Maybe one of you will pull a Finn and fall in love with each other,” Sirius said.
“Twice,” Remus laughed, and Regulus did, too.
“I think I’ve had enough romance drama to last me a life time, thanks,” Regulus smiled. “But, yeah. I’m just…I’m focused on friends right now, I think. Normal, non-hockey creatures like you two. But that’s not to say if something came up…or I guess someone. Who knows.”
Sirius’ smile was softer this time. “Focus on whatever you want, Reg. You deserve it.”
Regulus just grumbled something about hockey gods, and then they were pulling up to the Dumais’. There were silver and white balloons lining the driveway and the fence to the backyard where, as Remus slammed his door, he could already hear laughter. A zing of excitement shot through him.
“I missed this team,” he sighed as Sirius took his hand.
Sirius pressed a kiss to his temple. “Your team.”
“Our team.”
“Jesus Christ,” Regulus said, and gave them a shove forward.
Thomas gave a loud woop when he spotted them coming out to the backyard. Regulus immediately made a B-line towards Leo and the Cubs.
“Yes! The Captain!” Thomas said and pulled Sirius into a hug. “Missed you, man.”
“You, too, T,” Sirius said. “Ready to tear it up?”
“You know it.”
Remus smiled as Thomas hugged him next. “I forgot you two train together before pre-season.”
“You two?” Thomas raised an eyebrow, the small gold hoops in his ears glinting in the sun. Remus noticed he’d shaved three stripes into one side of his head. They were a little wobbly. Maybe Noelle had done it. “You’re not coming with us?”
“You know how this one is about his routines,” Remus said, wrapping an arm around Sirius’ waist. “Wouldn’t want to mess anything up.”
“Please,” Sirius said. “I want you there more than I want a second—”
Remus and Thomas punched him at the same time.
“I know you weren’t just about to say that,” said an accented voice from behind Remus, and they turned to see Pascal standing there. He looked as he always did, smile lines around his eyes, gray streaks at his temples. He wore a white t-shirt and had Katie on his hip. She was definitely getting too big to be carried around like that, but Remus couldn’t see a time when Pascal would ever refuse her. He’d probably carry Adele around like that, too, if she’d let him.
“Dumo,” Sirius smiled, and took the two beers he was holding out, handing one to Remus. He kissed Katie’s forehead. “Good summer?”
“The best,” Pascal laughed, and nodded towards the edge of the yard. “Especially with the promise of seeing that thing again.”
Remus followed his gaze, and his breath caught, just as he knew it would. The Cup stood there, its guards near by with drinks and plates of food in their hands. It sat proudly on a table, surrounded by white tulips—no doubt Celeste’s doing.
“I’m excited to see you two bring it to the parade,” Pascal said. “That will be a wonderful day for everyone.”
Remus glanced at where Logan, Leo, and Finn were standing with Kasey Winter, Gryffindor’s goalie, and his partners Natalie, with her long blonde hair, and Finn’s brother Alex, who played for Tampa Bay.
Sirius’ smile lit up his face. “It will be.”
Remus peered around him. “Is that our rookie?”
Sirius scoffed. “A rookie can’t call a fellow rookie rookie, rookie.”
Remus blinked. “What did you just say?”
“That’s Cole!” Katie said. “I love him.” Then she turned and shouted his name again. He looked up from where he was standing quietly beside Jackson Nadeau, another player, and Remus suppressed a smile at the way his eyes widened when he saw Sirius.
“Oh, here we go,” Sirius mumbled.
“Oh, hush,” Remus said, and sounded far too much like his mother to himself. “You’re going to be throwing hands for him the second someone gets close, and you know it.”
“I don’t know how to tell rookies I’m just a person!” Sirius whispered as Cole began to make his way over. “They act all…”
“Star struck?” Thomas offered.
Sirius just glowered at him.
Cole Reyes did not look as young as he was. Even at 19, he was jacked, and tall, with light brown skin, green eyes, and a stripe shaved into one of his eyebrows. His hair was shaved at the sides, but longer on the top and in tight curls.
Remus glanced somewhat self-consciously down at himself. He could only put on more muscle healthily so fast. He thought he’d been doing well, but looking at Cole…
“Hello,” Cole said hesitantly and Pascal set Katie down and clapped Cole on the shoulder.
“Reyes, meet Sirius. Sirius, meet the boy who is a much better billet than you ever were.”
Sirius snorted, and Cole laughed—nervously.
“Hi, Cole,” Sirius said, and held out his hand. “I know we spoke briefly over the summer, but it’s nice to officially meet you.”
“You, too,” Cole said, smile slight. “Thanks for the call. My mom freaked out. I mean—well, me too, but my mom…” Cole stuttered out, wincing.
“Loves me?” Sirius laughed. “I get that a lot.”
“He’s so humble,” Remus shook his head jokingly. “Hi Cole, I’m Remus. Welcome to the team.”
“You too…?” Cole said hesitantly. “Well, the roster, I guess.”
“Cole,” Katie said, taking his large hand in her small one. “Come meet Tremzy. He’s my best friend.”
Sirius feigned a pout. “What about me?”
Katie smiled sheepishly, throwing herself at Sirius’ legs, “You, too!”
“Always one-uped by Tremblay,” Thomas laughed, shaking his head. “How’s it feel, Cap?”
“Wonderful,” Sirius said dryly and then looked down at Katie, petting her head. “Go on, go show Cole your best friend.”
They watched her lead Cole through the crowd for a moment before Sirius huffed.
“See?” Sirius whispered to Remus. “It’s like he’s scared of me.”
“I’ve never heard you use the phrase spoke briefly in my life. Who are you, Alice?”
“I was trying to be professional!”
Remus laughed. “Why?”
Sirius just rolled his eyes and dragged him over to stack their plates with food.
The party went well into the evening, the sky pink and blue in the setting sun. There were lanterns floating in the pool where Evgeni and Jackson were playing chicken with a delighted Marc and Louis, or sometimes one of Coach Arthur Weasley’s boys, on their shoulders. Logan was sitting with Cole and Finn, cradling a sleepy Katie against his chest, Leo and Regulus laughing with Kasey and Alex.
Remus found Sirius again standing alone in front of the Cup. His hair was falling into his face, the curls gentled by the evening breeze and the Cup’s silver surface reflecting the silver of Sirius’ eyes. Remus went to stand beside him, and neither of them spoke for a moment.
“I’m nervous,” Remus broke the silence.
Sirius nodded. “I know, mon loup.”
Remus sighed, resting his head against Sirius’ arm. “Yeah?”
“Of course,” Sirius switched his drink to his other hand so he could run his fingers through Remus’ hair. “This is…big.”
“It’s what I’ve always wanted,” Remus whispered. It felt dangerous, to say the words aloud. “It’s everything that I lost. Last time.”
Remus could still feel Fenrir Greyback rip at his shoulder, even if it was years ago now, while they were still at college. Being in the NHL meant that Remus would have to play against him again whenever they met Vegas.
Sirius turned towards him, hand on his cheek.
“You will have this,” he said earnestly, and then smile, reaching into his shirt for his necklace, the one Remus had gifted him last Christmas. He brought it to his lips. “Loops.”
Remus smiled at the now familiar sight, touching the pendant when Sirius’ let it drop.
“You know,” Remus said. “You’re everything I’ve always wanted, too.”
Sirius’ smile was one of Remus’ favorites, and he tucked him against his side. Remus followed his gaze to find him looking at Cole again.
“I’m not happy with the way it happened,” Sirius said softly, and Remus knew he was thinking of the pictures that someone had leaked of them kissing. The pictures that had upturned their entire lives. “But I’m glad I get to hold you like this in front of new faces. I wasn’t thinking about trades—I try not to—but getting Reyes, if things had been different, would have meant we were back to square one at parties like these.”
Remus nodded, taking a drink. “And he seemed okay with it. With us.”
“I was thinking we should invite him to train with us. With me, you, and T. Maybe Dumo would join, too. I know he usually goes with Sergei, but Sergei might be with Kuns and Nado, even though they usually like it just them. The Cubs—”
“Okay, Captain, okay,” Remus laughed.
Sirius pressed a hand over his eyes, laughing. “I just don’t like it when they’re nervous around me. Like Leo was. It’s so much better now that we’re friends.”
“You’ll get there with him,” Remus said. “Yeah, invite him to train with us. The more the merrier.”
Secretly, Remus wanted to see how Cole trained. He couldn’t shake the analytical side of him, the physical therapist side. Cole was built for such a young age.
“If I didn’t know better,” Sirius said softly, mouth close to Remus’ ear. “I’d say you were checking him out.”
Remus spluttered. “I’m not! I want to know his routine!”
Sirius cracked up. “This is your superstition, isn’t it? Cracking other player’s codes.”
Remus just shrugged, smiling into his cup.
“Have you cracked my code?” Sirius asked in the low voice he used that made Remus not want to be surrounded by people.
Remus looked up at him. “Maybe. It certainly has nothing to do with a piece of toast at five o’clock.”
“My pre-game toast is very important to me.”
Remus leaned up to press a quick kiss to his lips. “No, you just like honey and cinnamon.”
Sirius rolled his eyes. “Okay, I’m going to talk to Reyes now.”
“Catch him if he passes out.”
Sirius just glowered over his shoulder as he stalked across the grass. Remus looked around at the back yard, at the team, together again. His team.
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english8muffin · 3 years
Text
Vogue morning routine
Y/N Y/N/L’s guide to effortless natural makeup
Summary: you are asked to do the Vogue Beauty Secrets video and your two boys decide to join the party
Word count: around 2000
Warning: none, just pure floof!
I apologize in advance if there are any spelling and/or grammar mistakes, English is not my first language (+ this is my very first fic)
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HEADLINE Henry Cavill’s new girlfriend, designer Y/N Y/L/N reveals her everyday morning routine in recent Vogue video: Y/N Y/L/N shows off her secrets to the perfect fusion of European and Asian beauty.
You stood in the spacious bathroom of the hotel room, only wearing a big, fluffy, white robe, that was actually Henry’s. But since the man was in the gym, you took the opportunity to lend it and bathe yourself in his musky smell, that calmed your nerves. Last night you started panicking, thinking you would probably look stupid for the entire world to see, luckily Henry and Kal tried to calm you down with cuddles and kisses.
This was the first ‘interview’ you would do, being such a young, successful entrepreneur really caught the attention of the media. When you first started your small online shop, you never would have thought you would end up here. Five years later, with a steady income, the job you always wished for and the man you had a crush on since the first time you laid eyes on him. Being a creative, it really made your heart soar with happiness, seeing all your products, your babies, in new homes where they would make others happy.
You were really proud of yourself. Henry was as well, and he made sure you and everybody around you knew. You were apprehensive at first, being with such a well known actor, who was also much older than you, it made you nervous of what people would say, what the media would say. You didn’t want to tarnish Henry’s image. You knew there were people with a much bigger age gap, but still, people were ruthless. So you both decided to take it slow, being careful with going out in public and social media posts.
You stand in front of the large mirror, which had a camera attached to it and open up your makeup bag. Right before you went into the bathroom, you made yourself a nice cup of tea, trying to stay calm. “Hi! I’m Y/N and today I am going to show you my everyday makeup routine,” you say with a smile, “I am not a dermatologist so please don’t take what I say too seriously.”
You grab a small white washcloth and hold it up, so it was in the frame, “First, I am going to wash my face and put on a few drops of serum,” You dampen the cloth and wipe it over your face and neck. You put a few drops in the palm of your hand and pat them into your skin. “Now I going to use my jade roller to massage the serum into my skin. It’s quite funny seeing so many people use these nowadays. In ancient China they were mostly used by the elite to keep there skin ageless. They would call jade the Stone of Heaven. It’s really helpful for the people who wake up with a puffy face like me,” you chuckle.
Somethimes you’d wake up with puffy cheeks, which led to Henry calling you his chubby bunny in the morning.
“Just a quick tip, and this is for everybody, make sure you always use SPF. I personally use SPF 30 and this one is shine control, since I tend to get an oily skin, but you can also use a regular one or a foundation with SPF in it. Believe me when I say your skin will be thankful.”
You grab the small tube of sun cream and show the amount you’ll use. You even convinced Henry to wear SPF everyday. At first he said he didn’t think it would make such a big difference, but when he realised you were going to be the one to put it on him, he was convinced about its benefits and adamant to wear it everyday. After working the thick cream into your skin, you put on some lipbalm and rummage through the pouch in front of you. When you find the product you’re looking for, you hold it up. “Now, I am going to put on a bit of concealer, this one is from Maybelline. After this, I will use a lighter shade under my eyes and on my acne scars that I have here,” you point and circle around the small cluster of scars on the sides of your cheeks.
Before blending out the concealer, you smile at the lens and put in two bright yellow hairclips, to keep your dark locks from falling into your face. “I probably should have done this at the start,” you laugh. The nerves creeping up a little. It wasn’t that you where a shy person, but knowing thousands of people will watch this, did something to you. You were always a very easygoing person, who could talk with pretty much everybody. But knowing people were going to watch you do something so intimate in a way, and would probably comment on it, scared you a little. While you would be 100% yourself, doing something as mundane as getting ready. If they didn’t like you now, then they probably won’t like you later. And that was what made you so afraid.
The bathrobe falls a bit down your shoulder, but you ignore it, since your hair fell down your shoulders in big waves. “Okay, brows. I used to block them in really dark when I was younger, but now I try to keep a light hand. I’ll use this Got 2B Glued as a brow gel afterwards. The tails of my eyebrows tend to move if I don’t use a strong enough gel. If you’re Asian you will understand the struggle.”
You quickly finish your brows, put some bronzer on your face and eyelids and take out your liquid eyeliner. “Am I the only one that acts like I’m a beauty guru whenever I do my makeup? Like, I’m just acting as if I’m used to this, right now, but to be honest, I was really nervous to do this video for Vogue,” you admit, “they will probably regret asking me,” you chuckle. You finish your eyemakeup with curling your long lashes, thanks to your mother’s genes, and add a coat of mascara.
You take in a deep breath, excited to show everyone the product you had been waiting for. “The next thing I am really proud to show you guys, because I designed the packaging. This is the new limited edition blush and highlighter palette from Dior, which they created for Lunar New Year!” You beam with pride, holding up the elegant looking palette. It had a darker toned glossy finish and the borders were the traditional Chinese looking frames, which were 3D and were surrounded by a wild variety of peonies. In the middle of the lid was your Chinese calligraphy in big golden brush stokes that said ‘year of the Ox’, the clasp was designed so it resembled an antique Chinese coin and on the side hung a jade charm.
“You can pre-order this palette now, I think they will put a link-thingy in de description. I wish you all a happy and blessed Lunar New Year, 祝农历年新年快乐牛年大吉!”
Just as you’re about to add some blush to your cheeks, the bathroom door creaks open and a curly-headed, sweaty Henry pops his head in. Fresh from the gym, and were you thankful for his new intense workout, because he was truely a sight to behold. A cheeky smile graces his handsome face when he spots you in front of the mirror, only wearing his robe, which made his grin widen.
“what are you doing in here? Are you hiding from me? Playing hide and seek is it?” he teases and rakes his large hand through the tousled curls, but just as he’s done speaking, he sees the camera behind you, and blushes. “Oh, I didn’t know you were filming, I’m sorry darling,” he smiles and gives a small wave in the direction of the camera. You led out a giggle, cheeks turning red already, if he’d keep this up, you wouldn’t need to add blush. You couldn’t focus anymore, he looked so attractive, only wearing his black gym shorts and a tight dark blue tank top. Damn that camera, otherwise you would have jumped him. Henry, thought the exact same thing. Seeing you, only wearing his robe and your hair still a bit wild from this morning’s cardio, made him hold back a moan. Those two cute, yellow clips in your hair could have fooled him, because you were anything but innocent.
Before he’s about to close the door again, he blows you a kiss. But his actions are stopped when a big bear makes his appearance. Bolting past his dad’s legs, Kal comes into the bathroom. Henry tries to catch him but misses. The black and white akita excitedly sniffs his head around the sink, trying to see what you were up to with all the stuff lying on the marble counter.
“Kal!” Henry whisper-yelled, trying to stay hidden behind the door. But you could still see his massive body crouched down behind the wood. It was rather funny, seeing the large man so panicked about getting his dog to listen. It kind of reminded you of that one video from BBC were a professor was being interviewed and his baby and nanny showed up in the background. While Henry tried to get Kal’s attention, the dog just sat next to your legs, and smiled when you pet him behind his ear. He was your good boy.
You both knew there was no other option but to keep Kal here, once he saw you do your makeup, he wanted to watch and get his ‘makeup’ done as well.
Henry also saw the look in Kal’s eyes and let out a sigh. Might as well stay with his two loves. He stood up from his position and walked to you, wrapping his sweaty but oh so save body around your figure, and placed a prolonged kiss on the exposed skin just by your shoulder. So far for taking it slow… He pressed himself thighter against your back, hiding his face in the crook of your neck and intertwined your hands, slowly rocking you two back en forth. “You look beautiful, my love,” he whispered, so only you could hear it, at least you hoped the camera wouldn’t pick that up. You let out a little giggle, like the inner schoolgirl you were whenever he was around you.
“Kal loves when Y/N does his makeup as well, don’t you boy,” Henry explains with a smile and looks down at the bear by your bare feet. Kal gives a small ruff and sweeps his tail eagerly. “Did you show them what you made,” he asked you with a wide smile, and looked straight in to the camera, “she worked really hard on that design, so I hope you all like it,” he declared proudly.
You ended up doing your makeup routine with your two boys in the background. Henry left for a few minutes to shower in the second bathroom your hotelroom had, and came back clad in a pair of light jogging trousers and a sweater. Even though you were inside, it was still a bit too chilly to walk around in short sleeves, being mid-winter and all. He just sat on the small wooden bench by the door, still in frame for everybody to enjoy and behold. His hair now damp. He was reading in a book and patiently waiting for you to get ready, occasionally looking up and laughing when you would wet your hands or Kal’s special makeup brush in the sink and pretend to do his makeup. The dog would bark excitedly and give you kisses. “Wow Kal, you look so pretty,” Henry told the big floof with the chuckle.
“Okay, this was my -somewhat- everyday makeup routine! Thank you guys for watching this chaotic mess, hope you laughed a bit, bye-bye, 再见!” How do those vlogger end their videos? Smash like and subscribe?
Behind you Henry looked up from the pages of his fantasy book and arched his brow, “Hey! No shout-out for your special guests? See you all next time!”
WOOHOO!! This is my very first fanfic, I really hope you enjoyed it. Liking, reposting and commenting would mean a lot to me! If you do repost this, please do not edit or copy my work. I worked really hard on this.
Much love, Nahmi xxx
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