#me over here like god I hope the finished piece does as well as the wips

[theshatteredsilhouette]

Keeper of Yggdrasil

I have a lot of Thoughts about the Loki series as a whole BUT the visual of Yggdrasil and the timelines was absolutely stunning, so I knew I had to do a rendition of it with a new costume. I loved the idea of Loki physically becoming part of the Tree, with all the branches washing over him like veins, obscuring old pieces of armour and melding with his true Jotun form. (and of course I had to do a glowy eyes version!)

Prints here

do not repost / reblogs are awesome though / painted in procreate on ipad pro my art tag

#loki #loki art #loki laufeyson #loki series #loki spoilers #tom hiddleston #thor #mcu #marvel #marvel art #my art #me over here like god I hope the finished piece does as well as the wips

[dolldefiler]

This isn't the first ask I've sent you- you already know how much I love your writing! But would you ever consider writing more public sex scenarios?

Something like a girl getting fucked on a crowded subway train, with other passengers pressed up against her. It starts out subtle, with him trying to see how much he can get away with, but soon he's fucking her so good they both stop caring if anyone sees. Maybe no one does see- maybe one or two people notice and flush and look away- hell, maybe the whole subway car catches on and she's suddenly surrounded by people gasping and staring and taking photos, all while this guy's cock is just destroying her, with her eyes rolling back and drool dripping down her lips.

Maybe at that point he gives up all pretense of secrecy and just slams her against the wall or throws her over a chair, or rips off her clothes right where they're standing, while the other passengers scatter out of the way. She'll have to finish her commute in torn, ruined clothes, with cum all over her and a fucked-out expression that just won't go away. (can you tell I've thought about this more than I'd care to admit? i've had lots of long commutes, lol)

Anyway. No pressure to write something like that, since I know how busy you are. But if inspiration strikes, and you have time…well. I'd really appreciate it <3

Hello, hello, I've not done too much public scenarios but I wrote this based off your very wonderfully written ask. I hope I've not butchered it, and thank you so much for the inspiration! I'll try to work on more pieces :)

C/W: Public sex, rape

Hello there, miss. Hush. Quiet now. You wouldn’t want them to see what I’m doing to you now, would you? You wouldn’t want the other passengers to see me molest your fat ass, would you? That’s a good girl. No, no, there’s no need to cry. Once I get my fill of your gorgeous fucking body, I’ll leave. You know me, don’t you? We’ve taken the same train for months now. Every morning I have to endure your perfect fuckdoll body passing by me without being able to touch it. Not today.

Shh, quiet now. God, was that moan? Don’t tell me you like some stranger slipping his hands up your blouse to fondle your tits? Does your boyfriend not feel up your tits as well as I do? Mhm? Yeah, it is. Yeah, that’s my cock. Do you like it? Do you like my big, hard cock pressed up against you? If I slipped it in you right now, do you think the guy next to you would notice? God, do you think he fantasises about your slutty body as much as I did?

Shit… FUCK-, well I guess there’s no need to be quiet. Fuck, fuck, fuck, you feel so much better than I imagined. Your cunt’s gripping my dick like you’re a natural whore. God, look at that. Everyone’s looking at you. They’ve even- fuck yes- they’ve even got their phones out. Look! You’re going to be a pornstar now! 

Get off that seat. I’m going to fuck her on it. Let’s get you settled here… Shit, yes. Shit, your pussy’s a premium fucking fleshlight, isn’t it? God, you don’t need this blouse, do you? Let’s just tear it off you. God, look at those fucking tits swinging while I bounce you up and down my cock. What a lewd fucking sight it must be for our audience.

God yes, get on your knees. You look so pretty with those glazed eyes. Let’s finish them off with some thick cum. Shit, this is the best train journey I’ve had with you. Fuck yes, it’s coming. I’m CUMMING. Ugh, let’s paint your face with my cum.

Anyone want a picture? She's real cute like this, isn't she? Does anyone know where she works?

#public kink #r@pe fantasy #rough kink #rapekink #rapedoll #r@pe kink

[dotster001]

Headcanons of what if the reader accidentally called the staff members dad?

A/N: Gn! Reader. Hope this is what you're looking for, anon/hope you're still here cause I take forever on these 😂

"Azul asked me to bring you this paperwork," you said, handing him a stack of papers.

"Excellent, prefect. You've been incredibly helpful lately. In my generosity, I have decided to give you the next week off, and take you to a beach house!"

"Really? Thanks dad!"

Preens. You've made a huge mistake. Good luck to you. You will now be smothered by an overexcited crow.

He hasn't touched up his nest in a while. As headmaster he has no time to think about a family. But now that you called him dad, he is going home and touching up his nest so that his little chick will be comfy. Crow's like to keep their babies in the nest, some of them for years at a time. You're gonna have to tell him at some point that no, you will not be staying in a nest, you will be staying in Ramshackle to finish your education. (This will not stop him from subtly directing you in the direction of said nest)

He's picking at your hair, and straightening your outfit. He does that mom thing where he licks a handkerchief and tries to clean the dirt off your face. If you tell him to stop, he'll say something like, "now now, let papa help." God, I don't envy you.

He buys you shiny trinkets that have no value. But  he can't help his genetics. It's how he expresses affection.  You and Grim may trip over them sometimes, cause he just will drop them in the most random of places. (ex. The middle of the floor)

If you ever try to take it back, whether it's out of pure desperation or annoyance, he will sob. He will sob so hard. He's not trying to manipulate you. He just doesn't see what he did wrong.

He'd invited you over to dinner. 

"Yeah, I don't really have plans for the summer holiday yet, because, well, you know.."

He cut a piece of his steak, and said, "You can always stay with me. My daughter's are all grown, so they're rooms are empty. Plus they've been wanting to meet you." He gave you a soft smile, the kind of smile that made you feel safe.

"Sevens, that sounds great dad," you said with a sigh. Both of you froze.

He already knew you felt that way about him. But having you say it out loud fills him with fatherly pride.  It's been a while since his kids were young enough to spoil, and he's definitely missing it. Now that you've opened the box, he has all the permission he needs.

He'll act like everything's totally normal though. He still expects you to get your classwork in on time, and strongly discourages you from getting into trouble with your friends. But it somehow seems more insistent? Like when he sees you going to hang out with ADeuce, and he says to stay out of trouble, it sounds more like, "Dear god, please don't do anything stupid!"

He offers to help you with your homework a lot more often now. He had already offered from time to time before, but now it's a lot more often. Like calling him dad was giving him permission.

He gives you presents every once in a while. Expensive presents, wrapped in a neat box with a perfect bow. He acts like it's nothing. When he hands it to you he says how he just was passing through the store, and saw it, and thought it was something you needed. No biggie.

Lucius follows you around a lot now. You have no idea why…

"You were almost correct here. You need to add mustard seed, or it won't work," Crewel said as he looked over your homework with you. 

He definitely didn't have to go over your homework with you line by line, but you definitely appreciated it. 

"Oh, yeah! Thanks!" You made a note so that you wouldn't forget later.

"Not a problem. Anything for my favorite pup. Don't tell the others though," he gave you a playful wink.

"No problem, no one has to know, dad." 

Oops.

Oh? He might raise an eyebrow, or give you a smirk, but he won't say anything. It'll be like it never happened, and you can convince yourself he didn't hear it.

But he definitely did. He heard it. He goes home to his dogs that night, and picks them up, and cuddles them close, and keeps telling them, "they called me Dad!" 

Like I said, you can convince yourself he didn't hear it. But every once in a while he'll slip and do something that makes you wonder. Like he'll gently rub the top of your head. Or he'll tell you he understands if you don't get your homework in, just don't let it happen again. Or when your idiot friends drag you into a scheme, he'll get you an exemption from the detention that inevitably follows.

Crewel has a habit of adopting students already, without realizing it. Vil's your brother now, by the way.  He'll invite both of you to dinner in the guise of "checking up on my most studious pups" but it's really to just spend time with his little found family.

You won't know for sure he heard it, until after you graduate, when he offers to sponsor you through whatever you want to do. Cosign leases and loans, transportation to an interview, purchasing a uniform, letter of recommendation…. he'll do whatever you need, and when you're like, "Sir, I'm not sure how to repay you!" He'll say, "It's a dad's job to help out his pup." That's when the memory of that fateful day comes rushing back to you.

Sam let you work weekend shifts with him for extra cash. You didn't know how he always knew, but whenever the shop was closing, if you hadn't bought anything to eat that day, he'd get you something and have you eat it while he did closing tasks.

"I can eat this later, Sam. It's no trouble!" 

"You've done enough work, my little imp. You're no use to me if you starve to death," he laughed. "Plus your health is important to me, even outside of you working here."

"God, dad, you're just the best!" 

You've known him long enough to know that if he didn't hear it, his "friends" certainly did. No matter how embarrassed or flustered you are by the mistake, you know that he knows. And he won't easily forget it.

On the whole, your relationship doesn't change. To him, you saw him as Dad already. So that's that.  He doesn't need to change, and you don't need to change.

That said… now that the words have been said…he has his friends specifically watching you at all times. Just in case. If you've ever started to fall, and felt someone catch you, but when you turned around you saw no one there…that's not your guardian angel. That's your dad's shadow.

Okay…not everything stays the same. Merch from your favorite things are always in stock at the store from now on. Neither of you addresses it…but deep down you both know.

"You wanna be as tough as me, right? You need to do at least ten more pushups!"

"God, you're the worst, dad-"

Fuck.

Oh man. You've made a huge mistake. (Part two) the conversation will go as such. "Dad huh?" "Uh, I-" "Ha ha ha! Well,  you're gonna have to bulk up! Just trust your old man, he knows what's best! Fifty squats! Go!" God, you're fucked.

Wakes you up in the morning with a booming laugh, and a green smoothie of unknown origins. Once you chug the smoothie, with indiscernible flavor profile, it's time for your three mile jog. He'll go slow for you. If you complain he'll say, "Dad knows what's best for you! If you want to be as fit as me, this is only the beginning!" If you continue to complain,  he'll make you do a plank until you give in and join him on the run.

You can't look at this man and tell me he doesn't give the best hugs. Before you dropped the d word, his affection was expressed with a pat on the back. Now, when he sees you, he scoops you up in a bear hug. I don't care how tall or short you are, your feet are off the ground when he hugs you. 

Surprisingly? He's the most gung ho about who you want to date. Gym teachers see students at their worst and most desperate. He's seen Azul try to con his way out of flight class, Leona get flaky and take a nap, Cater attempting to split card his way out of laps…none of them are worthy of you! Besides, they can't even lift, bro! You're not from here, how are any of them supposed to protect your magicless, muscle less body? Now that he's dad, he's way more vocal about his opinions. Good luck.

#twisted wonderland #dire crowley #twst crowley #mozus trein #twst trein #divus crewel #twst crewel #twisted wonderland sam #twst sam #ashton vargas #twst vargas

[daizymax]

the ways we love | lfl (m)

summary: periods of work mean periods without play between you and your longtime boyfriend. after he offers to be the muse for your latest artistic piece, you realize just how much you appreciate his never-ending support.

pairing: felix x fem reader

genre: smut

word count: 7.9k

rating: mature (18+)

warnings & features: established relationship; profanity; mentions of alcohol consumption and (past) drunken sex; public marriage proposal; brief mention of having children; graphic sexual content; dom!felix; dirty talk; use of pet names; fingering; some spit play; oral sex (m receiving); some spanking; penetrative sex; multiple orgasms; creampie; aftercare

author’s note: rewritten for stray kids and reuploaded from my old blog. i think this will be the last of the fics from my old blog that i'll be reuploading here for the foreseeable future. also, i forgot how much fun i had writing the smut in this one. hope you enjoy!

( click here to read on AO3 instead )

---

He had started off so well. He was relaxed, comfortable, cheerful. Happy to help. This was his idea, after all.

But now… now he’s fidgety. Anxious and bored. You sympathize with that, but if he doesn’t — “Doll, can you please stop moving?” — then you’re ready to give up this entire project already.

“I’m sorry,” he sighs in that sweet, deep voice of his. “You’re just being so quiet. I thought you’d at least talk to me and let me know how it’s coming.”

You spare him a quick, direct glance before refocusing on the canvas. “I’m not going to give you a play-by-play of every mark I make, Lix. I need to concentrate. I want this to be as perfect as you are.”

Felix huffs and averts his eyes, but you know you have appeased him from the way he falls silent and relaxes his shoulders again. The new pink hue spreading across his freckled nose, ears and cheeks would be a nice touch if only you were ready to add color to the piece. For now, you store the inspirational image away for later.

You manage to finish your outline and flesh out some details around his nose before his real-live self ruins his posture — and subsequently, the lighting on his face — by shifting in his seat yet again. With a sigh, you set your utensils aside, wipe your palms on your pants and say, “How about a break? Let me get you a drink.”

Whatever his answer was going to be — agreement, argument, or otherwise — does not have time to be voiced before you are breezing by him and into the kitchen. When you return, he accepts the glass of water and obeys your command to drink up. You watch as he tips an ice cube into his mouth and licks his heart-shaped lips afterward.

He mistakes your admiration for scrutiny. “What’s wrong?”

You smooth some stray hairs near his ear and poke the bulge of ice in his cheek. “Nothing at all. I just like looking at you.”

He crunches the ice and blushes deeper. “Thanks. Don’t you need to do that from the other side of the room, though? Any idea when you might be finished?”

You shrug and fuss with the collar of his shirt until it un-creases. “You know I can’t answer that. A few hours? Days? Weeks? Whenever I’m satisfied with it. Or whenever you say, ‘Fuck you, I’m done with this.’ I told you I can always just use a photo to finish this so you don’t have to model for me.”

Felix smiles softly. “No, I don’t want you to do that. I volunteered, didn’t I? I like modeling for you. It feels fancy to do it this way, like it might turn out better if we do it like this.”

“Maybe, maybe not. Maybe it’ll be so awful you’ll leave me over how monstrous I make you look.”

“Well, at least that would make an interesting story to tell my next girlfriend.”

You giggle. “That’s true. Why don’t I just do a caricature? That way, if it looks bad, I can pretend it was on purpose.”

“No. God no,” he says firmly. “You’re too good an artist to be making pieces look silly on purpose.”

You peck his forehead. “Well, if you want this to be ‘professional,’ you have to sit still for me, doll.”

“I will. I’ll behave.” He tilts his chin to seek out your lips, and you willingly give them up. You smile into the kiss when you see him fumble to set his glass aside on the coffee table beside him without breaking contact with you. Before he can free up his hands to do goodness-knows-what with them, you slink away, back to your easel.

“You just told me you’d behave. If you’re not backing out, then I’m still working, and that means no playing,” you remind him.

He knows, but there is still a hint of disappointment in his dark brown gaze.

These abstinence periods are relatively new to your long-standing relationship. You suppose most people would think a couple purposefully denying themselves sex would tear a wedge of stress and resentment between them, but that has not been the case with you and Felix. It’s a stimulus. A game. A challenging one, to be sure, but always immensely rewarding.

So that is what you have both agreed: there is no sex while you are working on a piece. Not until the job is finished.

“How long do you think this one will take?” Felix asks again.

You plop down in your seat with a light groan and gather your utensils again. “The answer is the same, Lix. I can’t say for sure. A few hours, days, weeks?”

Your pretty muse nods and takes another sip of water as he mentally prepares himself for the oncoming drought. He does his best to relax in his seat again, and you flash him a smile before getting back to work.

---

It takes twelve days to complete the portrait, and Felix is not even sitting across from you when the last stroke falls upon the canvas. He might be offended by this once he finds out, but you couldn’t stop yourself from finishing without him. Besides, you know he will ultimately be as happy as you are that it is finally finished.

Truthfully, you might have been able to do most of the portrait simply from memory; you know his face as well as your own by now.

A sigh flutters past your lips. You take a step back to better admire (and scrutinize) your work. As you scan it over, you can’t help but smile. Not just out of pride for the job you did, but because of the striking resemblance you have been striving to achieve.

It is always difficult to instill life and warmth into mere lines and dots and smudges, but the two-dimensional rendition truly seems as though it could begin breathing at any moment, and a fresh wave of fondness for your best friend and lover as the real-life person he is comes over you. That is how you know you are satisfied, and not just in terms of your finished project.

This is something to celebrate, so after deciding how you want to do so, you pick up your phone to text Felix about an important dilemma.

[You: hey i forgot what you’re wearing today]

There is enough time to change out of your old, splattered overalls and heat up a late lunch before your phone buzzes back.

[Felix: i know it’s been a while since we’ve sexted but i think you meant to phrase that as “what are you wearing” with a smirk emoji]

You almost choke on a bite of your food as you laugh out loud.

You: dfjfdjso i’m not trying to sext you. i just need to know if you’re dressed nicely enough for a restaurant with a decent wine list tonight. we have some celebrating to do

[Felix: how come?]

[You: it’s finished]

This time your phone does not buzz. It rings.

“You finished the portrait?” Felix’s voice is hushed and a little rushed. You can tell he is on the move, probably heading somewhere away from his co-workers and customers for a more private conversation.

“It’s signed and everything,” you say cheerfully.

“That’s fantastic!” he says, not the least bit offended. “This is definitely worth celebrating. We should go to the nicest place in town and dress to the nines.”

More laughter bursts from deep in your chest. “Wha— I mean, it’s still just a portrait, Lix. I didn’t win an award or solve a murder case or anything.”

“So? I” — you hear the sound of a door closing in the background — “sat in that chair for a hundred years and went celibate waiting for that portrait to be done. No offense. This deserves a grand celebration.”

Your eyeroll can probably be heard through the receiver. “It didn’t take that long, did it? It was less than two weeks. Remember that waterfall landscape I did?”

Felix grunts at the memory. “Yeah, how can I forget? Longest month-and-a-half of my entire life.”

“It was worth it in the end, though, wasn’t it?” you say, remembering how neither of you could walk properly for at least a couple days after you finished that particular piece, which is now proudly mounted on a wall in the master bedroom. “Come on, doll. When I pick you up, we’ll go out and have that decent wine with a decent meal so the public knows we’re celebrating something, and then we’ll come home and fuck each other blind, okay?”

There was a time years ago when he might have choked and sputtered over your words, but this lewd proposal is mild, and today he doesn’t flinch.

“If that’s what Madame Artiste wants, then that’s what she’ll get,” Felix says.

He offers you a choice between two restaurants he deems himself dressed appropriately for without having to come home and change, and once you choose, he asks, “Can you just bring my navy suit jacket with you so I can make this outfit work, please? I’ll see you later. I can’t wait.”

He ends the call with the sound of a kiss.

---

The chimes on the door draw the attention of three pairs of eyes, and the sight of you stepping into the salon brings a smile to Felix’s face. Well, the mask on the lower half of his face prevents you from actually seeing his smile, but the happiness is there in his deep brown eyes.

“Hi,” he says, scanning your date-night outfit with obvious appreciation. “Be right with you.”

“Take your time,” you say, smiling at the customer sitting across from him. She smiles back politely and returns her attention to Felix, who goes back to focusing on her fingernails. He meticulously sweeps an emery board across the rounded ruby shapes to finish smoothing them out.

The third person in the salon gets up from his cozy perch in one of the pedicure chairs at the end of the row and crosses the floor.

“You look so nice, Y/N. Is it date night?”

“Yep, we’re off to dinner,” you say, accepting the man’s hug. “What’s new, Ji?”

“Oh, not much.” Jisung shrugs and takes one of your hands. He inspects your fingernails, which have unsightly matte polka dots chipped in the gloss. “Want me to redo these before you go? It won’t take that long.”

You let out a fleeting giggle. “Honestly, I don’t know why I bother getting them done in the first place when I put so much wear and tear on them. This damage only took me a week.”

“Well that’s because—” Jisung shoots your boyfriend a quick look and clearly alters the second part of his statement, “—you did them at home. You need to have them professionally done.”

His way of criticizing Felix’s work while leaving the customer in the room none the wiser is clever, and you have half a mind to applaud him for poking fun at his friend without hurting their business.

The comment is not lost on Felix. He glares over at you and Jisung, but he cannot seem to think of a subtle rebuttal, so he stews in silence.

“Ah, maybe that’s my problem,” you say, grinning.

“Give me, like, fifteen minutes and you’ll be all set,” Jisung promises.

As he’s making his offer, Felix finishes with the woman. From the edge of your vision, you see him remove his mask and lead her to the register to finish the transaction.

“Are you working Saturday morning?” you ask Jisung. “I’ll stop in then and you can do my toes, too.”

Before he can either confirm or deny the appointment, Felix interrupts by coming up behind you and waving his tip in front of your face. “Here, look what my ‘unprofessional’ work got us,” he says. “Buy yourself something nice, baby.”

You chuckle at his little joke until you flick through the bills and realize just how much worth is in them. “Wow, Lix, she was so generous!”

“She was appreciative of the amazing job I did,” he corrects with a peck to your cheek, then he takes his suit jacket from your arms to slip it on. “Sorry, Ji, we have to go. Ready, Y/N?”

“Ready,” you say.

“Sounds good,” Jisung replies at the same time. “I’ll lock up here. Enjoy your date, guys. See you Saturday, Y/N.”

---

The wine is more than decent, the food hits all the right spots, and the company is absolutely perfect.

Felix laughs happily from across the table. Strands of pale blonde hair trickle past his ears the further he tips his head back, and the apples of his cheeks are hued pink from where the rosé has gone. His smile loses none of its dazzle when the waiter interrupts to check on the two of you. The sheer warmth he radiates is boundless in the most endearing way.

When the waiter leaves, you watch Felix lean back in his chair. His eyes land on yours, and while some of the amusement fades from his face, the fondness remains. You see it there, twinkling in the inky pools of his irises; you feel it in the comfort he exudes while he is with you.

For some reason, the contentment of the moment draws something to mind. “Do you remember when we first met?” you ask out of the blue.

The corners of his eyes crinkle. “Of course I do. Remember how you tried to kiss me?”

“Oh my god, yes,” you groan. “Honestly, I still don’t remember a whole lot about that night, but I definitely remember you saying, ‘Oh, no thank you,’ right in my face.”

“Listen,” he laughs in defense, holding up a finger. “I was trying to be polite. I was trying to be a gentleman. You were a hot mess. That party had you twenty so’s-worth of shit-faced.”

“Twenty what?”

“You were so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, soooo…” he starts chanting his stupid joke.

You giggle and hang your head. “Okay, okay, I get it.”

“Hang on.” He holds that finger up higher. “So, so, SOOOO—”

“I said I get it already!”

“—so shit-faced. I didn’t want to embarrass you.”

“You did embarrass me, though! By rejecting me.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry,” he says, dipping his head in apology, “but we both would’ve been way more embarrassed if we’d slept together that night. It would’ve been a disaster.”

You quirk an eyebrow. “What makes you think I would’ve slept with you so soon?”

“Uh. Did you or did you not sleep with my roommate that night instead?”

“Fair enough," you say, toasting your wine glass in his direction. “It’s only funny now because we’re the ones who ended up together.”

Felix smiles. “Thank goodness for that. Life is pretty incredible with you in it, sweetheart.”

His words sober you a bit, and you smile back almost shyly. “I could say the same about you, doll.”

He probably does not always love you as much and as effortlessly as he does right now. He certainly is not always his best, most charming self the way he is right now. Neither are you. But he is still worth loving when he is at his worst, and if you could have moments like these scattered all throughout the rest of your life, you feel it would be enough. His love and support and respect and admiration are more than enough.

So it comes as a soft entreaty rather than a question; out of the blue again, but also a long time coming: “Please marry me.”

This time Felix raises an eyebrow. He seems more intrigued than surprised by your impromptu proposal. Then he half-purses, half-pouts his lips in a cheeky sort of expression, like he thinks you’re bluffing but is willing to play along anyway.

That feeling of overconfidence you had that first drunken night when you leaned in to kiss him in a stranger’s kitchen comes back, as does the fear of the rejection you suffered immediately afterward. If he says ‘Oh, no thank you,’ again, you wonder if you’ll die of embarrassment right here in this restaurant, surrounded by different strangers with different alcohol on your breath.

But you know he won’t, not even as a joke, because he knows you now. He knows you well, and he sees the sincerity in your face.

“I don’t have a ring,” you go on, “but I’ll get down on one knee right here, right now. This dress won’t stop me.”

Wordlessly, Felix lifts his napkin from his lap to lay it across his plate, then leans sideways to pull something from his pocket. He casually holds it up for your inspection, and once you realize what it is, you move to kneel in front of him as promised without even questioning the coincidence. Now is not the time for questions. Now is the time to show how serious you are about this.

Felix stares down at you and pries open the tiny case to reveal the brilliance of the diamond’s sparkle. Your fingers are sure and steady when he slips the top-heavy band onto the appropriate one.

“I would be honored to marry you,” he says softly, poking back and forth at the engagement ring with the edge of his thumbnail.

By now there are dozens of eyes on the quiet scene the two of you are making, but his are the only pair you see. His smile is still there, softer and smaller now, but still brimming with the adoration he has gained over the years. It widens when you rise up just enough to press your lips to it. His hand finds the back of your head the same second yours cups his.

A round of coos and charmed applause from the crowd goes up around you, but it is all background noise to the sound of Felix’s precious, giddy laughter.

---

He is no longer laughing by the time you throw the front door shut and press him up against it. The needy kisses between here and the car have taken most of his oxygen.

“Shit,” he hisses, watching you work his belt buckle. “You get a ring on your finger and you turn feral, is that how it works?”

You growl playfully but say nothing.

“You better slow down, tiger, or we won’t last five minutes.”

“Don’t care.”

“Aren’t you gonna show me what we waited so long for this for first?”

“Later. I thought you were dying of celibacy?” you sass.

Felix clicks his tongue. The simple sound is quiet, but it shifts the air. You stop trying to get into his pants to give his dark eyes your undivided attention.

“We have all the time in the world now, don’t we?” he murmurs, as though the hard-on in his jeans is not growing as impatient as you.

You swallow. “I just want you so badly. It hurts.”

His gaze sharpens at your tone. “Does it?” He reaches up to graze a thumb along your bottom lip. “Where does it hurt, sweetheart? Here?”

The sound you let out is something between a hum and a whine. You feel so sex-starved, so desperate for any morsel of pleasure he can feed you. You try to take his thumb into your mouth, but he slips it away too fast, plucking your lip as he goes. He brushes across your breast next. The sensation is dulled by your clothing, but your nipple stands to attention nonetheless.

“What about here?” he whispers.

“Yes…” The fingers that had been so keen on removing his belt cling idly to the leather.

“Aw.” Felix pouts and bats his eyelashes at you, but his sympathy feels insincere. He’s amused by the state of you. He adores seeing you so riled up and pliant for him.

His thumb trails further, straight down your stomach, while the rest of his fingers are kept stiff and carefully away from your buzzing body.

Eventually, he reaches the crease between your thighs and presses through the layers of your dress and your panties where he estimates your clit to be. He is a little north at first but quickly readjusts his position. The soft moan you let out is a dead giveaway for when he has found it.

“And here?” He takes a step closer while he begins drawing tiny circles. “Tell me, angel, does it hurt here?”

“Yes. Yes...”

He kisses your cheek tenderly. Mercifully. His deep voice is pitched even deeper when he murmurs, “Shh. I know it does. It’s finally time for me to make it better, isn’t it.”

You cant your hips against his hand. “Felix, please...”

“Come here.”

He trades places to cage you up against the front door. You reach for him, but he draws back out of reach to shrug out of his jacket first. After he carefully pushes the sleeves of his sweater up, he uses both hands to hike your dress up along your waist. There is no rush to his movements. In fact, it’s almost graceful the way he does it, as though the actions he is about to perform could be considered decent.

When you try to remove your underwear from his way, he nudges your hands aside. “Ah-ah-ah,” he tuts. “We’re getting ahead of ourselves. Tell me the safe word first, Y/N.”

After all this time, he still has you say it out loud beforehand. Beneath your eager lust, you appreciate the basic act of care and commitment to playing the dominant role.

“Candle,” you answer.

He thanks you as though you’ve done him a favor and places a light kiss on the edge of your jaw. Then he hooks his thumb through the side of your panties to touch the hood of your bare clit directly. A jolt of electricity singes your nerves from his first flick. Your body noticeably quivers, and Felix smirks at his quick, effortless effect on you.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” he drawls lowly.

You swallow again, drier this time. “Mm-hm.”

“Because we don’t play while you’re working anymore, do we?”

You shake your head. “Hm-mm.”

“And you’ve been working so hard, haven’t you, baby?”

You hum again, louder this time. Or maybe it’s a full-blown moan. Whatever the sound is, it becomes incessant over each passing second and each pass of his thumb. Every noise you make is met with a return sigh or hum from Felix. Every jerk of your hips is matched by a tilt of his head or other shift in his posture.

Getting fingered like this, fully dressed and up against the front door of your home, spikes a carnal, filthy pleasure into your blood. It sears through your muscles, hotter and hotter until it beads between your skin and your clothes. You want to take them off, but you dare not stop Felix for a second. You keen with lust and desperation.

“I know. I know,” he purrs, soft and sweet as a kitten. “Feels good, doesn’t it? Feels so good...” He nuzzles the space between your jaw and your neck and inhales deeply.

You tilt your face away to give him better access, but he peels back and takes your chin in his other hand to steer you back toward him. A puff of hot breath hits your damp temple; it almost feels cool.

“Eyes on me. Good girl.” His gaze skims down your form. “You’re still shaking. All I’ve done is touch your clit and you’re that close already, huh?”

“Yes, so close,” you admit, completely unashamed. “Just keep going, please just keep going.”

Felix smiles and takes the sweat from your temple with a pair of kisses. “How can I say no when you beg me so nicely like the perfect angel you are? Hold onto me. C’mon.”

You instinctively go to clutch his biceps but think of a better idea and hook your arms around his neck instead. Felix allows you to pull him even closer and finally — finally — slips another finger into your panties. He pushes it into your opening with almost no resistance, and you gasp when his knuckles bottom out inside you. Just as quickly as the finger entered, a second one joins and curls. He keeps them buried for a moment, then drags them back out to smear the juices he collected around your swollen bud. The slipperier his work gets, the more he enjoys it.

“Your pussy is so perfect,” he breathes. “Spread your legs. I want to feel just how wet it gets for me.”

You obediently open your legs wider, and he delves back in immediately, fast enough that his palm audibly claps against your slick lips, hard enough to send your head tipping backward to thump against the door. When his thumb drops back to your clit and nudges under the hood this time, you know it won’t be long until you’re unraveled.

“Ohhh my god,” you groan. More sweat builds on your forehead, on your chest, under your arms, along the backs of your knees. You grow lightheaded from the static in your veins from being fucked open by Felix’s talented, diligent fingers.

“That’s it,” he pants. You’re not sure when he became so breathless. “That’s it, sweetheart. Let go. Come for me. Come for me. Come.”

Another dozen strokes and you do as you’re told with a pinched yelp. Felix kisses your throat as he works you up your high and eases you back down, undulating his wrist and babbling encouragements into your sticky skin.

“That’s it, squeeze my fingers, just like that. Squeeze ‘em tight. Tight. There you go. That’s my good girl. So gorgeous when you come. So fucking perfect. Hey.”

The hand not still knuckle-deep in your pussy cups your cheek and pulls you in. He swallows the whines and the airless, nonsensical words of thanks you huff between kisses.

Once your breathing has had time to settle, he gingerly slips his fingers from your sensitive, throbbing walls. He doesn’t even look at those fingers as he brings them to his tongue. In fact, he closes his eyes altogether as he laps the tips and moans indulgently, as though this is the first time he has ever tasted you.

When he is done cleaning the mess you made on him, he looks you in the eye and says, “Now that we’ve rubbed out that easy one, I’m open to suggestions on what to do next.”

“Let me return the favor?” You inflect it as a question.

Felix smirks. “It wasn’t a favor, sweetheart, it was a pleasure. But since you’re asking so nicely again… c’mere.”

He tugs you by the hands and begins walking backward, slipping out of his shoes as he goes, and you follow his lead. You assume he is bringing you to the bedroom, but he stops when his feet hit the carpet in the living room and glances over his shoulder. It must be the chair he was looking for because he then moves toward it with a sense of purpose, leaving you a few paces behind.

“Strip,” he orders. His voice is even and his expression is calm as he sits and crosses an ankle over his opposite knee.

You move to obey without hesitation, twisting your arm behind your back to yank down the zipper on your dress. Felix keeps his eyes fixed on your face as you peel the gown away from your shoulders. Gravity takes the fabric to your waist, and you shove it down the rest of the way to step out of it completely. Next, you snap one of your bra straps with an eyebrow cocked in question.

Felix nods. “Mhm. Keep going ‘til you’re in nothing but that ring.”

You had nearly forgotten about it. You lift your hand to look at it again, but a sudden noise startles you. It sounds like more of a crack than a snap from the way it ricochets off the walls of your home, though you know a snap is exactly what it was by the pose of Felix’s fingers in the air.

“Don’t get distracted now,” he says, deep voice rumbling. He drops his hand back to his lap. “You’re being so good. Finish taking off your clothes, then come here.”

With his instructions, you unhook your bra and let it drop to the floor. His eyes dip to your naked chest, but his expression is more clinical than enticed.

You shove your thumbs into the band of your panties and stall there until you get the attention you want. It takes Felix a few seconds to realize you’re not moving and look back to your face. When he meets your eyes, he mouths the word ‘off,’ leaving his teeth planted in his bottom lip for an extended moment. Even when he is silent, you feel the authority radiating from him. You shiver when the air hits your slick, heated center.

Felix uncrosses his legs, and you finally glean a proper peek at your effect on him. The erection in his pants looks past the point of painful, but his demeanor is still relaxed as he invites you to stand in front of him by casually tossing a throw pillow at his feet. Once your toes brush against it, he reaches for your hands and sweeps his lips across your knuckles, quick and affectionate. Then his hands are on your waist, and near your ribs, and around the curves of your ass, and across your thighs. He soothes them up and down your skin, imprinting patches of heat everywhere he roams.

“There’s my gorgeous girl.” He leans forward and plants an open-mouthed kiss on your lower stomach, then peers up through his eyelashes at you and directs, “On your knees for me, gorgeous.”

Another look at his covered crotch and you do as you’re bid. When your knees touch down on the pillow, Felix shifts to whip his belt out of its loops at last. By the time it clanks to the floor, you’re already helping him with the button and the zipper. He lets you tug his pants down to and away from his ankles. His socks go next, and he takes care of his sweater and undershirt himself. His underwear is last but gone in a flash and then there he sits, stripped bare with his toned abdominals twitching and his cock standing flushed and rigid just for you. He is so goddamn beautiful.

“Is this what you want?” He leans back and takes his rosy length in a loose fist. “Is this what you’ve been being so good and working so hard for?”

You swallow and pretend it’s his precum sliding down your throat. “Yes.”

“What’s that, baby?” He strokes upward.

“Yes.”

“What do you say?” He strokes downward. Back up again. Your eyes may as well be stringed puppets with the way they follow helplessly.

“I said yes,” you repeat again.

And he patiently repeats: “No, what do you say? Look at me.”

Once you meet his lust-glazed stare, you don’t have to wrack your brain for the answer he’s looking for.

“Please,” you say, “let me suck your cock. I want it so badly. You deserve to feel good after waiting so long.”

Felix tucks his chin down, puckers his lips, and releases a ball of spit onto the head of his cock. Another soon follows, racing alongside the first, joining the trail of wetness that already leaked from the slit.

You shuffle closer between his knees and take him in your hand. He lets go of himself, but not before brushing his fingertips along the back of your hand. The gesture is deliberate, not coincidental, and you smile up at him. He smiles back, more with his eyes than his mouth. His mouth is used to give commands such as, “Put it in your mouth, sweetheart,” before leaning back comfortably. Even with his pulsing erection at your mercy, he is a marvel of beauty and dominance.

You give him a few strokes to spread the wetness around and simply enjoy the slick glide, then bend to take in his wet tip. He tastes delicious. Good enough for you to moan on contact, good enough for you to want to fill your entire mouth with his warm heaviness. He is tangy from his natural body and sweet from the taste of wine lingering in his spit. You sink down further, letting your tongue follow the path of a prominent vein.

“Open wide. That’s it,” he says. His voice is steady but barely there. The relief of finally being touched where he wants it most runs a succinct shiver through his legs, but otherwise he remains controlled, even when you tighten your lips to hollow your cheeks. “There you go. So good for me. So good at sucking my dick.”

His praise leaves you hungry for more, so you slather your tongue down and around his balls to hear the way his sighs and quiet pants start to crack his composure. He shifts his hips to ensure you can reach every sensitive part of him, and his cock feels just a bit stiffer when you try to swallow it down your throat.

“Hah,” he gasps. “Oh, fuck, baby, that’s it.”

On the armrest of the chair, his fist clenches tight enough to pop a knuckle. He soon releases it, however, and moves his hand toward you. You half-expect him to hold you in place because you know how much he enjoys being in your throat, but instead, he eases you off of him and uses his loose grip on the top of your head to roll it back in a slow, gentle circle along your neck and around your shoulders. A strand of spit — there is no way to tell whether it is yours or his — still bridges your lips to his swollen cock. You reach out to break it with your tongue, curling it devilishly. Felix watches with dark, hooded eyes.

“Dirty girl.” He wipes away the dribble on your chin with his thumb. “Where do you want it?”

You don’t quite understand his question. “Hm?”

Once again, he takes your hands in his, this time to help you up off the floor and onto his lap where he can sling your arms around his neck. The only conceivable reason for him to cut a blowjob so short is that he is already too close to coming. You won’t call him out on it, but you’re thrilled to know it’s true.

“I asked you where you want it. Where do you want me to fuck you?” His vulgar inquiry is warm honey on your tongue. “You want me to take you up against the wall? Fuck you so good and so hard that you can’t fucking walk in the morning? Hm?” His hum vibrates your lips with the sweetest melody. “Do you want me to take you in our bed, under the sheets, nice and slow, until you can’t remember your own name?” His lips are a soft, decadent treat you sink your teeth into. “Or do you want me to take you in this chair, right here where I sat while you were across the room working for hours and hours instead of bouncing on my dick?” His perfume is a laced drug that could leave you high in bliss for hours.

“Yes,” you breathe into his mouth. You pull at his lips, molding and folding them with yours while you feel up every inch of his skin you can reach — his jaw, his back, his arms, his chest, his stomach.

Felix relinquishes a shred of his control with a groan as he ravishes your lips right back. His own hands crawl along your shoulder blades, your spine, your ass. Eventually, he clears his head well enough to say, “That’s not an answer, sweetheart. You need to tell me right now where you want to fuck, or I’m choosing for you.”

“Here. Chair. Now,” you rasp brokenly.

He hoists you up right away, perching your ass halfway onto one of his forearms and using his other hand to drag his swollen, spongy cockhead through your folds until he finds your entrance. The tip slips inside with a stretch but little resistance, as does the rest of him until your lap and his are pressed flush against one another’s.

You rock your hips slowly to welcome the intrusion and ensure he is as deep and you are as full as possible, and his breath hitches from the movement. He lowers his eyes in a straight path from your eyes to your nose to your chin. His lips part as though he is going to say something, but after a couple seconds, he leans forward to give you another searing kiss instead, bracing a hand against your spine to keep you from tipping backward from the sudden motion.

Whatever he was going to say about how good it feels to be sunk in your wet heat again is conveyed through his tongue on yours and the way he clutches your bare skin.

Just when you think perhaps all his words have dried up, Felix sucks his mouth off yours, lays a slap across your ass, and grunts in deep bass: “Bounce for me, baby.”

You would love nothing more than to do just that, so you build up a steady pace as quick as you can. He is just thick enough to rub your walls and make them burn in the best way imaginable. The smacks that come from your pelvis and thighs meeting his over and over are lewd and wet and so fucking good. So fucking good.

You shut your eyes and hang your head back. “Oh my fucking god…”

Felix keeps an arm hooked around your moving waist while he paws at you from the front. He splays his free hand across your throat, applying just enough pressure to get a feel for your erratic pulse, then slips down your collarbone, down your chest to squeeze one of your tits.

“That’s it, baby. This is what we’ve been missing, isn’t it?” He lifts your breast and leans forward to wrap his lips around the perked nipple. The sensation makes you involuntarily clench around him, and he whimpers from the tightness. “Fuck, I’ve missed this so much.”

His admission spurs you to speed up. You try to roll your hips at the bottom of every drop, but your movements are getting sloppier the higher your pleasure climbs. It doesn’t seem to matter to Felix, though. His ragged breathing is a telltale sign of how good it feels to have your soaked pussy dragging up and down his cock. He tries to find your staggered rhythm in order to buck upward in time with your drops and help drive himself into your sweetest spot, but although both of you are hyper-concentrated on reaching your peaks, the coordination is not quite there.

“Sweetheart, you’re falling apart on my dick,” he moans with the little breath he has. “Jesus, you’re squeezing me so goddamn tight. You’ve already come once and now you’re about to soak my whole fucking lap, aren’t you?”

“Lix, I-I’m s-s-so-” you trill mindlessly.

“So close, I know.” He gives the fleshiest part of your ass another solid slap, then digs his fingers in to help you rock back and forth against him. “Do it. Come again on my fucking cock, baby. We’ve earned it.”

You work to get all the friction the ridges of his raw cock can give you, but the edge you’re chasing is still on the horizon, just a bit too far out of reach. “Felix, I can’t…”

“I’ll get you there,” he swears. “Let’s just—”

In no time, you’re on your back on the floor and Felix is plunging his steely length back between your drenched folds. Your legs automatically anchor themselves around his hips to steady yourself against the jarring pace he sets. The aftermath of the rough carpet on your bare skin is a worry for a later. Right now, you whine at him to go faster, go harder, just don’t fucking stop, whatever he does.

Felix leans close and takes one of your knees to push it back toward your chest so he can fuck into you deeper. His breath is hot and shaky and somewhere in the vicinity of your earlobe as he whispers, “Fuck, you’ve gotta come now, angel. Please.”

He readjusts his weight and his grip on you, pushes deep just a few more times, and you’re finally coming again, crying out and clenching around him so tight it nearly hurts from how hard he is inside you. He fucks you through your entire high, never stopping the solid snap-snap-snap of his slim hips.

“God, fuck, I’m right fucking there,” he huffs and pants. Sweat drips from his brow onto your cheek. “Where do you want it? Where should I come?”

“In me, come in me,” you beg, reaching down to squeeze his tight ass and urge him even deeper into your soaked depths.

Felix whines something wordlessly lyrical in a high alto as his release fills you with a sticky warmth. He fucks his cum into you with rough, staggered thrusts, his pace slowing but never completely stopping. Your legs begin to ache as he continues gingerly pumping himself. You assume his spent cock must hurt from the rising sensitivity following his orgasm, but he is not quite finished.

“Holy shit,” he whimpers. “Your pussy’s so fucking tight, I think I could come again.”

Your walls clench around him because you know he is serious. “Do it, baby,” you pant hard. “Use my pussy to come again. I want it all.”

“Yes, yes, yes. Just a little more, I’m gonna— fuck!”

He finds a second shaky high and buries his fingers in your hips deep enough that the bruises may last until your wedding day. The force with which he pulses a final spurt of cum toward your cervix is something you’re certain to remember for a long time as well.

“Holy shit,” Felix sighs again, blissful and fucked out. The two of you moan together when he slips out of you, still half hard. “Come here, angel.”

He slumps to the side and gathers you in his arms to face him. You tuck your forehead between his jaw and his shoulder, and he traces his fingertips along your shoulder blades where the skin is a little irritated from its row with the carpet. You’re not worried about the sting, but your nerves wince under his touch anyway, and he apologizes immediately.

“Shit, I’m sorry, I’m such an idiot. I shouldn’t have—”

“You’re not an idiot,” you giggle tiredly. “We’ve had worse rug burn before. Much worse.”

“I know, which means I know better than to have sex on the carpet.” He kisses your forehead and sweeps a thumb across your cheek. “I shouldn’t have gotten so caught up, I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you insist. “Being fucked into the carpet never felt so good.”

Felix laughs quietly, deeply. “It was definitely worth the wait. I haven’t come twice in a row like that in a while.” His sigh is exhausted but pleased; his hug is weak but loving.

After a moment of recovery, he helps you stand and urges you to use the bathroom and change into something comfortable, and you agree on the condition he does the same.

Before you dress, he peppers sweet kisses along your lightly scraped skin and helps you apply lotion over it. He also insists that you drink at least half a glass of water to rehydrate yourself before you both return to the living room so you can finally show him what the two of you have been celebrating in the first place. He massages the back of your neck soothingly as you walk side by side.

“Alright, now I’m actually really proud of this, but you still need to be honest with me, okay?” you preface. Without waiting for him to respond, you whip the sheet covering the easel away with a flourish.

The moment it is revealed, Felix eyes dart over the portrait in patternless directions. You want to see inside that pretty head of his to know every thought going through his mind while he examines your depiction of him, but you can’t, so you keep your eyes trained on his pensive face and wait quietly for him to share whatever feedback he chooses.

“Y/N,” he eventually begins. You can’t tell if the hush in his tone is because he is awed or appalled.

“Yes?”

Felix turns to look you in the eye. “How do you keep outdoing yourself?”

A note of laughter pops past your lips, and the nervousness in it surprises you. “Well, you know what they say about practice. Does that mean you like it?”

“Are you kid— I love it! I don’t even know where to begin! The detail, Y/N! It’s so—” He faces his two-dimensional self again and waves his hand through the air in front of the canvas in a gesture you have no idea how to interpret. Then he extends a single finger toward the bottom edge of the canvas. “Like right here. The shadowing is so good. And the way you did the lighting here...” He lifts his finger higher to point at his painted cheekbones. “You did my freckles so well, I wouldn’t even be surprised if you captured literally every single one of them. It’s, like, scary good. And I don’t know if this is technically a critique towards the realism, but I don’t think my hair has ever actually looked this good in real life.”

You laugh louder, more happily. “I do think I did a pretty good job, but your real life self is way better than this, doll. Trust me.” You tuck a lock of hair behind his ear, and he brings his face back around to look at you again.

“I don’t even know what else to say without sounding dumb about it,” he tells you. It is not often he sounds bashful around you anymore, but he does now. “I’ll have to keep processing it. But in my unprofessional opinion, to my untrained, non-artistic eye, I’d say this is certifiably amazing work, sweetheart.”

You touch his cheek. “As long as you don’t feel like leaving me over it, you don’t have to say anything else.”

Felix takes your other hand and kisses the center of your palm, then each of your fingertips separately, then the ring between your knuckles.

Tomorrow, you’ll ask him for the story of how he happened to have it in his pocket tonight. Saturday, when Jisung sees it on your finger, you’ll ask his advice on how you should do your nails for the wedding (though you’ll probably end up having them done by your groom anyway). Next week, you’ll ask Felix what time of year he has in mind for the ceremony, or if he even wants to make a big pageantry of it. The week after that, you’ll either start looking into wedding venues or making an appointment with City Hall.

And years from now, when your children ask you about the portrait you painted of their father, you’ll tell them you did it because he was always your biggest supporter, and you’ll be reminded just how in love the two of you were tonight.

---

if you enjoyed, please consider re-blogging and/or leaving me some feedback. take care! ♡

copyright © 2024 by daizymax. all rights reserved. back to masterlist

#felix smut #lee felix smut #stray kids smut #skz smut #felix x reader #lee felix x reader #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #the ways we love #daizymax

[nymphie-mama]

request for a jj nsfw one shot with the prompt “get rid of the attitude or i’ll do it for you” 😵‍💫😵‍💫

ATTITUDE

A/N: well, here’s my first requested piece. i hope you enjoy, i loved writing it.

PAIRING: jj maybank x best friend!fem!reader

SUMMARY: in which jj is just a little territorial

WARNINGS: SMUT. breeding kink, mention of (but no acting on) underage drinking/smoking, unprotected sex, sex in a stranger’s bed, sex at a party, possessiveness, kissing, hickeys, slight fingering

WC: 1.0k

She’s sitting in the middle of someone’s living room, surrounded by guys with red eyes, slack jaws, and smug, shit-eating grins. JJ can’t hear what they’re saying, but he can take a hunch. The second his eyes reach Y/N’s, he can tell that she is eating it up. every second of attention these fucking boys are giving her. And unfortunately, JJ is giving into it too.

She’s sober. Almost painstakingly. He can see in her eyes that her jaw is firm, her eyes are white and open, and her body is just normal. She knows what she does to him; she has to.

And oh, she does. Even here, through the crowd of guys that are asking her questions, asking for her, she can see the way his face turns red and his jaw tightens. She’s eating it up. He has not had a drop of alcohol, she can see it.

“Hey, princess,” he says, breaking through the huddle and making them all grimace at him. His ego is just a little higher. “Can I get you a drink?” he asks, voice honeyed, reaching out for her hand. Her face softens, but her eyes darken.

She hums, wrapping her fingers around his lightly and letting him help her off the sofa. He pulls her through the crowd, stopping in the kitchen and getting her a cup of punch. Spiked or not, he doesn’t care. “Thanks.”

“What the fuck was that?”

“Excuse me?”

He chuckles and rolls his eyes. JJ genuinely looks at her with a completely serious face before remembering that she was supposed to be “just a friend.” Who would JJ be if not flirty, territorial, and desperate for his best friend? hm? “Those guys? They were all over you like a pack of coyotes.”

She laughs, too, despite how firm JJ’s face becomes. Y/N knows what she does JJ. It’s all a game, and she’s playing right here. “I’m not yours. What are you going to do about it?” she scoffed, not breaking eye contact as she finished her drink.

“Get rid of the attitude or I’ll do it for you,” he says in an undertone, bringing his hands onto the island on either side of her. Their faces are only inches apart, and she’s looking up at him, trapped.

“Go ahead.” It only takes a second before his hand leaves the marble countertop and is around her throat, cold rings pushing into the sides. She doesn’t look phased, she isn’t. She wanted this.

His lips hit hers. He’s waited fucking years for this. And she fucking gives in. His hands search around, reaching her cheeks, shoulders, arms, and waist. Down to her ass and thighs. She doesn’t miss a beat, swiping her tongue along his bottom lip while her hands find the hairs at the back of his neck and the beginning of his back. Their kiss is hungry and long-awaited, god forbid the party in their midst.

He pulled away, smug, and grabbed her wrist. She opens her mouth to say something but shuts it just as he pulls her along again, this time upstairs and into an empty room.

“This isn’t either of our rooms,” she said, bringing her fingers to interlock with JJ’s.

“Kooks.” He brings his lips back to hers, this time roaming her body and finding the button

to her jeans. He practically tears them off of her, bringing her onto the bed without breaking the kiss.

At this point, his jeans are tight. He comes off too, leaving them both in shirts and underwear. Too much. She takes the liberty of taking off her shirt while he does the same, boxers coming off soon too.

Okay, Y/N has seen JJ in boxers before. This is far from what she expected to be underneath them. She’s staring, who wouldn’t?

“You did running your mouth, then?” he asks, grabbing her chin and bringing her view back to his face. She responds by rolling her eyes, and he tosses her back flat onto the bed. His fingers run through her sopping folds, a half smile forming, “You’re so wet already.” He kisses down her body, from her jaw down to her stomach, while his forefinger draws circles on her clit and she whimpers under him.

“Stop teasing me,” she groaned, bringing her eyes away from his hands about back to his eyes, “Fuck me.”

He smiles and brings his frame to hover over hers, mouth next to her ear. “I’m going to fuck you so stupid the only word you’ll know is my name.”

He aligns himself with her entrance, kissing her neck and leaving bruises. They both hiss as he sinks into her. Her eyes are screwed shut at the stretch, he smiles to himself, but he doesn't wait for her to adjust. He finds his rhythm in a quick moment, pounding into her.

The pleasure is far, far out weighted from the pain. His tip is hitting on her g spot with every plunge. She tried to open her eyes and watch what her best friend was doing to her, but they shut just as quickly as he picked up the pace and brought her knee to her chest; allowing him a better angle.

“Such beautiful sounds you make,” he teased, “I wonder who's making you feel like this?”

“You,” Y/N choked out, hands reaching for the sheets.

“Who, Princess?”

“You, JJ,” she screamed, making him grin and bring his hand back to her neck, tracing his marks on her. “JJ- God, JJ I’m going to “

“Cum for me, princess.” His fingers came down to her mound again, rubbing forceful figure eights, and the next thing she knew, he was helping her ride out her high. But he didn't stop.

“You’re mine,” he said, pace getting sloppier, “Mine, y/n. Understand?” She nods,

“All yours. I always have been.” He knows.

“Good.” It was only a few more thrusts before he was riding out his high, his hot cum staying in her before he pulled out. A small string came out of her with him, “No, no. Cant have that, can we?” he said, plunging her fingers into her and stuffing his cum right back.

#obx cast #obx fic #obx netflix #outer banks #obx smut #blurbsandbrainrot #one shot #outer banks smut #outerbanks #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank fic #jj #jj maybank smut #jj maybank one shot #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x you #jj maybank #obx one shot #smut oneshot #rudy pankow smut #obx rudy #rudy pankow #rudy outer banks #rudy obx #obx pogues #rafesdior #🍇 anon #🍇nsft

[estrellami-1]

Steddie Week 2023

May 22nd Prompt: Hunger

Day 2, Day 3, Day 4, Day 5, Day 6, Day 7

@steddie-week

Steve wakes up slowly, rolls over to look at his alarm clock, then bursts out of bed in a rush of limbs and sheets and curses.

3:42 blinks back at him. Sometime during the night the power had gone out, and Steve knows it is well past 9, when he was supposed to be opening at Family Video. He pulls on his jeans and a clean shirt, stuffs his feet in his shoes, runs a brush through his hair, and grabs his vest on his way out the door, sparing half a glance at his kitchen, but not having time to eat.

If it comes down to it, he thinks, there’s always the candy.

He gets to Family Video in record time, breathing out a sigh of relief when he yanks on the door to find it still locked. That means he’s the first one there. Keith might notice when he goes back through times this week to figure out pay, but Steve’s hopeful he’s gotten away with it this time.

He clocks in, computer reading 10:01 (an entire hour late, whoops), and takes a breath as he looks around the store. Robin’s scheduled to come in at three, meaning he has five hours alone.

No one comes in for the first hour. Steve finishes logging returns and winding back the tapes.

Halfway through the second hour, the bell above the door jingles, and Steve raises his voice from where he’s putting away tapes. “Welcome to Family Video!”

“Either you’re hiding or you’ve officially started haunting this place,” a voice calls back, and Steve laughs as he walks out of the aisle.

“Hey, Eddie.”

“Hiya, Stevie.” He grins. “Tell me if this is too forward? But I noticed the power went out last night and figured if I know you as well as I do, you slept in and missed breakfast.” He hands Steve a brown paper bag, creased nicely at the top.

“Lifesaver,” Steve gasps, opening the bag. Three muffins. He sniffs them, then groans. “You’re perfect, holy shit, thank you.” Banana nut, his favorite. His heart skips an odd beat, then again when he realizes Eddie’s blushing, pulling a piece of hair across his face.

“You’re welcome,” Eddie says quietly, chuckling slightly. “I guess I was right?”

“Yeah, I woke up, like, half an hour after my shift had started, immediately panicked, and got here as fast as I could. I don’t need another write-up.”

Eddie nods, a smirk crawling onto his face. “How about waiving the fees for your favorite customer?”

Steve makes a show of looking around. “Dustin’s here?”

Eddie just laughs. “I can’t even be mad at that one.”

“Steve,” Eddie says, eyes wide, adorably serious. Steve tries to school his face accordingly, but he can’t really feel his face. “I’m hungry.”

Steve thinks about it. “I am too,” he decides, then thinks some more. “Is there pizza left over?”

Eddie shrugs, looks at the blunt in his hand, then shrugs again, taking another drag. “Chips?”

“I have chips,” Steve agrees, grabbing for the blunt. “C’mon, share.”

Eddie hands it over. “Steve,” he says again, “I’m a genius.”

“Yup,” Steve agrees.

“We should watch a movie.”

“Oh my god,” Steve breathes. “With snacks?”

“Yeah. Yeah, with snacks, c’mon, help me, help me!” He pulls Steve up, laughing when Steve does.

“Eddie,” Steve says. It’s his turn to be serious. “What if we call Argyle? And Jon?”

“And they can bring pizza,” Eddie breathes. “Stevie, I think you’re the genius.”

“Yup,” Steve agrees again. “I’ll call. You get snacks. And movie.”

“Fuck off,” Eddie laughs, resting his head against the wall. “There’s no way.”

“I swear! That’s exactly what she said! And then she tried to blame me, like it isn’t all automated.” Steve huffs a breath.

Eddie shakes his head. “You have way more patience than I do, man.”

“That’s not true. We have different types. I could never sit like you do, painting your figurines.”

Eddie snorts. “I zone out and wake up four hours later. I don’t think that counts as patience.” He sighs. “As fun as this has been, Steve, I’ve gotta go get ready for my shift. I’ll talk to you later?”

“Yeah. Yeah, definitely. What time does your shift start?”

“Six.”

“That… Eds, that’s in twenty minutes.”

“No? I’m looking at a clock right here. It’s 4:40 right now. I’ve got an hour twenty.”

“Eds,” Steve says, sounding pained. “Daylight savings.”

“Oh, shit,” Eddie breathes. “Shit, shit, shit, you’re right, shit, fuck, okay, I’ve gotta go, love you, bye!”

He hangs up before Steve can say anything else, stuffing his feet in his shoes and grabbing his keys before racing out.

He’s halfway to work before he realizes he’s hungry. He lays his head on his steering wheel at a red light, breathes. “Just five hours,” he tells himself. “I can make it five hours.”

Half an hour in, he’s not so sure. His hands aren’t as steady as they should be, but he hides it from his coworkers, takes another few deep breaths, and tries to trick himself by drinking more water.

Ten minutes later, a familiar maroon Beemer pulls up. Eddie’s heart thuds in his chest as he goes out to meet Steve.

“Sorry I’m late,” Steve grins. “I think I got caught by all the lights possible.” He grabs something from the passenger seat. A brown paper bag.

“You didn’t,” Eddie breathes.

“I did,” Steve admits. “I hope turkey’s okay.”

“Turkey’s fantastic,” Eddie promises. “Freakin’ food for the gods, when I’m this hungry.” He opens the bag. A sandwich, a small bag of chips, an apple. He laughs. “Jesus wept, Steve, I brought you three little muffins!”

“Yeah, and I meant it when I called you a lifesaver.” He tilts his head. “I’m curious about something, though. If you meant it.”

Eddie pauses with the sandwich halfway to his mouth. “Meant what?”

“Gotta go, love you, bye.”

“Oh.” Nausea makes its presence known. He brings the sandwich down. “Steve, I-”

Steve’s fingers land on his forearm. “The truth, Eds. Please.” He’s whispering, eyes big and hopeful, and Eddie feels some of that same hope filling him.

“Yeah,” he whispers back.

Steve grins again, steps back. “I’m picking you up tomorrow. Seven o’clock.”

“Okay,” Eddie whispers, watches as Steve drives away.

“Hi,” Eddie says breathlessly, opening the door before Steve could knock.

“Hi.” Steve chuckles. “Ready?”

“Yeah. Where are you taking me?”

“Where do you wanna go?”

Eddie bites his lip, slides into the passenger seat. “Dinner? I’m starving.”

Steve grins at him as he puts the car in gear. “Me too.”

#steddieweek2023 #prompt: hunger #stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #starambles

[venturelovebot]

A/N: Thank you sm for requesting again!!! It rlly does mean a lot to me, so I hope I did your request justice!!! Link to request is here!!!

Premise: NOBODY YELLS AT Y/N!!! NOBODY!!! Someone's about to learn that the hard way.

Warnings: Bullying, verbal abuse and a well deserved ass whooping. Other than that, none!

"Good god, why are you so fucking worthless?" Your bosses voice boomed. "Tell me again why I hired you? You can't do anything right!"

Your body freezes up like a deer caught in headlights and your gaze is cast downward towards your feet. Tears instantly obscure your vision and your cheeks grow hot with embarrassment. A couple of your coworkers stifle laughs behind you.

"I-it wasn't me..." Your voice came out as a horrified squeak.

"Then who was it? Who else was in here besides you?" Your bosses voice echoed on the tile walls. "Your hands are literally the same color as the paint!"

You glance at the vulgar graffiti that depicted your raging boss. The discarded spray can lays empty on the ground below it. Your hands are stained in the same color from attempting to scrub off the mess just moments earlier.

There's no use trying to defend yourself as you'd inevitably be blamed once again.

Your boss only sighed at your silence. "Get out of here. Go do anything, just get out of my sight." They spat.

You wash your hands and run from the bathroom and into the back of the store. You slump up against the walls of the dark storage room and cry until your voice gives out. This is the second time this month that you fell victim to another scapegoat.

Just as you finished up sobbing your phone gently buzzed in your pocket. Your heart feels lighter immediately after seeing who was contacting you.

💛 lil meow meow 💛: HEY!!! I thought I'd pick you up today!!! Look what I got!!!

They sent you a photo of a stack of take out food located in the back seat.

💛 lil meow meow 💛: I'm on my way!!! Can't wait to see you!!!

They sent a selfie blowing you a kiss and you can't help but giggle at their silliness. For a brief moment everything in the world was right again– until the door to the storage room opened up.

Your boss throws cleaning supplies at you and just narrowly misses hitting you in the head with all purpose cleaner.

"Hope you weren't thinking about clocking out. Your ass is working overtime for that stunt you pulled. Now get to cleaning!" They barked.

"Okay, but..." you gulped in pure fear, "What about the mop?"

"Mops are for good employees that don't make their bosses look bad. Not you. Now go!" They commanded.

Without having to be told again you stuff your hands into a pair of cleaning gloves and fill the bucket up with soap and warm water. In a single second your out the door and down on your knees scrubbing the grimy, cold floor. Your knees and back immediately felt the harshness of it.

One of your coworkers spits their gum out on the floor in front of you.

"Oops! I think you missed a spot." They laugh.

"Of course they would. Can't expect a lot from such a lazy piece of shit." Another coworker chimes in.

Their words linger in the air and you fight back more tears. You couldn't let them see you cry again.

You glance up at them for a moment and notice paint spattered on both their uniforms– it's the same color as the graffiti in the bathroom. Anger mixes with the sadness inside of you as you take a paper towel and throw away the discarded gum.

"Well! We're going home. See you next week, boss!" Both coworkers clock out for the evening and you're left alone once again.

You feel your phone buzz in your pocket again but you don't dare check it. Your boss is hovering over you like a helicopter making sure you're doing as you're commanded. It buzzes one more time before you hear it accidentally fall to the floor beside you.

"Oh? Texting on the job? Let's see... who is 'lil meow meow'?" Your boss teases.

Headlights pull up outside.

"Look! They're calling you! Let's see what they have to say about your prank you pulled on me." Your boss answers your phone and places it up to their ear.

"Hello? This is [Y/N]'s boss." They pause for a moment. "I'm sorry but they won't be able to make it home–"

Despite your best judgement you lunge for your phone and end up knocking the bucket of water across the floor. The suds spill out and fill the cracks and crevices that you've meticulously cleaned over the course of tonight. For a moment, all is quiet.

Your boss breaks out in laughter.

"Do you fucking hate yourself or something? Or do you just love spending time here? Now you have even more shit to clean up!" Their voice booms. "It really is the only thing you're good for!"

The soft ringing of bells catches your bosses attention. "Sorry– we're clo–" they had no time to finish their sentence as Sloane's fist connects with their open mouth.

"Don't talk to [Y/N] that way ever again! Do you hear me?"

Sloane continues pummeling your boss into the sopping wet floor. In the midst of the chaos you grab your phone and place it safely back into your pocket before grabbing Sloane's shoulder and pulling them off your beaten boss.

"Babe, it's okay..." You talk to them calmly and try to deescalate the situation.

"It's not okay! You don't deserve to be talked to like that!" They argue, dusting themselves off briefly.

"Really. It's fine, I can handle it."

Your boss groans and stands up again. Their nose is dripping with blood.

"You've really done it now." Your boss stumbles for you and grabs your arm. "You worthless, god awful piece of fucking garbage! That's what you are! You're nothing but human garbage!"

Their nails dig into your flesh and you cry out from the pain. With no second thought Sloane kicks your boss square in the gut and sends them flying into a display rack. Fallen items trap them in their position helplessly.

"Don't you fucking talk to [Y/N] like that! You're lucky I don't fucking kill you!" Sloane yells in their native language. "Nobody talks to them like that! Nobody!"

You wrap your arms around their waist and pull them close. "No more yelling, please..." You beg. They take a couple of deep breaths.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to go off like that." They guide you towards the door away from the scene.

"No! Thank you!" You cry, hugging them close and crying. They rub your back comfortingly and rock you gently back and forth.

"Come on, let's get out of here. The foods getting cold." They give you a kiss and open the car door for you.

You nod and buckle your seatbelt.

"If you have anymore trouble please tell me. As long as I'm around I won't let anyone treat you badly. Okay?" They look at you and put the key in the ignition. You simply nod again.

"Alright. Let's go get you cleaned up. You only deserve the best!" They smile.

You feel a deep sense of safety and appreciation in your heart– something you desperately needed after tonight.

"Good thing you're the best, then." You reply.

"Aww, shucks... you're just saying that!" They blush softly from your compliment.

"No, I know so. And thanks again for sticking up for me." You lean over and give them a kiss on the cheek.

"Anything for you! That's a promise!"

You take their hand in yours and watch the street lights fly by in the night.

#okay. this turned out pretty good i think!!! lemme know what you think!!! if you want to that is!!! #let me tell you that if i ever write a sequel to this the coworkers will get it next lmfao #venture x reader #venture x you #venture overwatch #sloane cameron #overwatch x reader #overwatch x you #overwatch fanfiction #overwatch #overwatch 2

[beardedmrbean]

Ravioli/raviolo anon here. It occurred to me that I never followed up on my story of how I escaped my roommate's various attempts on my life and I managed to dodge them all like some drunken Mr. Bean. (Is that what I said? I hardly remember, lol. For the record, I don't really drink so much anymore. After I walked home from a birthday celebration a few years back (it wasn't a rager or anything, the bar was just across the road and my birthday is in February so we didn't want to go far) and coldcocked my dome running at top speed into a fence (I was trying to make it into the exit gate before it closed, didn't realize there was a post that came out horizontally across because I don't see very well on account of the fact that I wear colored lenses), I cracked my skull and you can still see where I hit the fence (on my head, I mean, it was a wrought iron fence so I assume I didn't damage it but I never checked), so that's when I realized it was time to slow down).

So it WAS a true story, (I don't really watch television or read much though so if it does resemble a piece of media, I wouldn't know it, lol). Anyway, since I tend to ramble, I will make an effort to keep this in the realm of "less than a novel" but I can't exactly make any promises. I don't know how to add a "read more" or anything fancy like that so in the interest of shortening it I won't be offended if you screenshot only the important parts or even just don't answer it, lol.

There's a little bit of backstory about how I ended up living with the roommate and why he wanted to kill me, long story short he was in the hole about $1600 with me because he bought a motorcycle from me but was "still making payments" on it. He suggested I come room with him in this cheap apartment while we both drove for UPS for peak season. He got fired day two on the job, and so after that he planned to rob me as soon as I finished the season. (In addition to never paying for the bike). I'm a simple guy, though, so I really only had my truck (worthless) and a mattress, and I was just working for the love of the sport so I sent all my checks to my mother and had her send me back a hundred a week. So he can't rob me, so he decides at this point he's mad enough to kill me, and thinks himself pretty clever and that he can do it without getting caught.

About a week into this nonsense, he tells me he's got a job interview in NYC or something, he's gonna be gone tonight, whatever. I'm like, fine, no big deal, hope you get the job, buddy, I'm pretty terrible at this whole UPS thing so I'll be back at midnight or something when I'm done my route. I get home, and I'm about to go to bed, and that's when I decided at about 1AM I sincerely want a grilled cheese sandwich. So I got up, drove across town, and went over to a buddy's house for grilled cheese at 1AM. Come to find out we had a gas leak all night and my roommate is just VERY SHOCKED that we BOTH happened to be out, what are the odds. I'm all "hey, man, God is good, I'll drink to that, get me another beer".

Not long after that, I finish my route at who friggin' knows how late, I'm the last guy in the lot, even the security guards have gone home, and my truck (which cannot be locked, I don't have a key for the door so I leave it unlocked) is, what the heck, locked. I have no way of calling my roommate (same reason why I drove across town to find my buddy instead of just calling and asking: I didn't have a phone at the time), and it's looking like I might just freeze to death out here because it's -3F and it's after midnight in New England, so there's nobody out and about. Well, nobody, except this old Russian guy who sees me standing next to my truck, asks if I need help, and when I tell him I'm locked out, he tells me he's been in prison a few times for carjacking and will get me into my truck in no time. Which he does. So I bring him home with me and we have a beer (he had a few more than me, I had to work in the morning. You know how it is.) (And for the record I have never driven under the influence. I didn't go to college, my CDL is all I have. I don't dick around with that.)

So at this point, my roommate is pretty pissed. I'm either too hammered or too tired to notice. UPS is really kicking my ass. It's finally Christmas time, time to celebrate the end of peak season with a trip to the bar, oorah. He gives me a bottle of Poland Springs and says to drink the whole thing, it's water and we're gonna be drinking hard tonight, gotta hydrate or die-drate, bitch. I knock it back and wouldn't you know it, that son of a bitch didn't give me water, this is straight Everclear. I get to the bar and I'm already sick, I go straight to the toilet and barf all over the place. Somewhere along the line I went up to the bar and started dozing off, at which point they kicked me out, so roommate says "don't worry, I'm gonna take him home". Not sure what the plan from there was, tbqh. I DO know that I realized about halfway out of the city that we weren't headed back to our apartment, and that we were headed towards either Connecticut or NYC, and I told him I wanted to go back home because I did NOT want to go to NYC because if we were going to NYC, that meant we were probably going to watch Eric Andre with his boring cousin in Queens and I was really not in the mood. I'm pretty sure he planned on dumping me somewhere on the highway where I'd freeze to death, and I was slipping back and forth out of consciousness, but I was SO consumed by how badly I did NOT want to go to Queens and watch Eric Andre, I called the cops and told them I was being kidnapped to watch Eric Andre. They were more concerned about the kidnapping part for some reason, (criminal restraint, I think is actually what they called it), caught up to roommate and I halfway out of Clifton Park (we'd apparently been doing 110MPH on the freeway and he was swerving all over the place) and he got arrested.

The next morning the cops told me I should press charges, but that meant staying in the state (because I'd have to be there when it went to trial) and I had other plans. So, I let karma do its work on the roommate (no idea where he is now or what's become of him, but I do know he lost his license and later blew every cent he had on some raffle scam for a Toyota out in California), packed up my stuff, and moseyed on.

I'm marathoning The Twilight Zone with a friend online today (watching the same eps on the same service) this was wilder than any episode I've seen ever.

#anonymous #unhinged story time #this is incredible #waiting for more story to come #if there is any

[bas-writes]

your blind date is waiting for you...

A suitor is awaiting for @z3llous who as their dream date wanted to make something for each other. I hope you will spend lovely time together!

gender neutral reader | ~800 words | unspecified AU where nothing went wrong, aged-up character

Sorcerers tend to avoid open, capacious spaces where people like to linger—not to stay but to just pass by, to leave a trace of one's being and disappear with their problems, emotions and pressing matters. They're usually full of small, almost harmless curses, too numerous and too irrelevant to be worth any attention. What the eye does not see, the heart does not grieve over—and the head does not bother itself with guilty conscience.

But Itadori Yuji is different.

As soon as you left the shop with all gathered treats, he led you towards the closest park, all proud of himself and the spot he located from afar. The place has that distinct tickle of accumulated cursed energy but it's pretty and cozy, and the both of you know well nothing will even think of showing up when he and his aura are present. If anything, it's the bystanders that could bother your precious together time, but at this hour, right after the lunch rush, the park is crowded only around the playgrounds. And he chose a spot as far away from them as possible.

Itadori takes the jacket off and spreads it in between the two of you as the makeshift table. You bring out the goods: strings, beads, and cute charms you've purchased for your date. You've been itching for this for quite long, teasing him with tutorials you found on YouTube, TikTok and Instagram, pointing at any piece of couple jewelry you could spot, nudging him to finally find a day off from his duties. 

Your date isn't the fastest to understand signs and nuances but eventually someone (god bless Kugisaki) had to shake him because one day, out of blue, he messaged you with an excited "I know a place" and straight up kidnapped you from assistant's car to show you the shop with everything you needed to turn your dream date idea into reality.

The way Itadori is dealing with his task is yet another surprise. You expected him to be clumsy, in a not so cute way even, but he's, much to your slight, teasing irritation, being better at it than you. Strands just dance in his fingers—and he barely pays attention to them and his printed-out tutorial. He's natural with handcraft and any manual work, under different life circumstances he might have been a handyman or maybe even an artisan; the thought of it leaves a better, grieving taste in your mouth.

Itadori immediately spots your frown. He glances at his work first (perfect and smooth), then at your hands (you're managing), and sighs with audible relief before teasingly poking at his favorite ticklish spot of yours, "I dunno what's on your mind but hey, take it easy on me and my little brain? For whatever stupid thing I did."

Sour mood disappears before it can settle and you're smiling again as you're poking him back, "You haven't done anything, alright? If anything...I'm the one behind here."

You show him what you've managed to weave so far. At least it has the right shape and dimensions but, according to your eye, is far from what you've been aiming for. It stands out even more when Itadori follows suit and reaches out to you with his creation placed on an open palm. His bracelet is not even finished, and it already looks like something that could be sold in a jewelry shop. He put his whole soul and heart into it, as if he prepared a binding vow, not a trinket for a couple.

You're not sure if you're more impressed or jealous so you frown again, trying to focus on improving yours instead of being bothered by sulking thoughts.

"Hey, not fair!" Unawares of your little inner struggle, Itadori squints and pouts over your hand, in a way that would suit a child more than an adult man. "Yours is way cuter!"

Gently, he lifts his creation to your temple and leans so close your noses almost meet, "I tried to match colors with your eyes but... Maaan, this is harder than I thought!"

His gaze then flicks to the bracelet you still hold on the open palm, "Hey, teach me how to put charms into it? I tried but— They're slipping out the knots."

When you take another, closer look, you realize his bracelet, while still good, isn't perfect, like you've assumed. He just put so much love and care into creation that he fooled your eyes. That's just so much in his style: to constantly bring the best out of everything, to show you the right path without even meaning to.

Biting back a sigh of relief, you look at your creation with more kindness. Despite everything, your knot work is indeed neater than his, and the charms sit tight where you planned them to be.

"Alright." You take his bracelet and put it next to his, then scoot closer to him, until your knees touch. "You need to pull them tight, like that. Here, I'll show you how." 

#itadori x reader #itadori x y/n #itadori x you #itadori imagine #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #bas writes #jjk #itadori yuji #blind dates #gender neutral reader #(I think I misunderstood what charms were supposed to mean lmao pardon me this little artistic freedom)

[dreadsuitsamus]

The Reunion | Renji Abarai x Reader |

author's note: this is for @actuallysaiyan, and it's a week or so late lol but here it is, finished. i hope you feel better, bacon, and that it stays that way 🩷 and special thank you to @yeowangies, who supported me on this when i felt it wasn't right. thank you, vero!! 🩷🩷 this is part of the mechanic au, and is chronologically the first out of all i've written so far.

pairing: renji abarai x fem!reader

warnings: a slight bit of angst but far more comfort

You’ve been staring at the email for a good little while now, having blanked out sometime ago as memories and past feelings of dread rise up your spine. Somehow it’s already been ten years since your graduation from high school, and it’s around that time for a good ole reunion, apparently. The mere idea of going back and seeing those people, the ones that made the experience worse than it needed to be and even those that didn’t particularly do anything to you, is less preferable than using cinder blocks for pillows. High school could’ve been worse, and historically for many it was in comparison to your time in those final years of school, but it never left a good flavor in your mouth. Perhaps it’d be different if you’d managed to find a clique to be part of and shape the way you looked at things, but it always felt like nobody really wanted you around, and as such you were a loner.

Things haven’t changed much ten years later.

The sudden sound of plastic crinkling startles a gasp from you alongside a slew of goosebumps down your spine. Somehow you hadn’t heard the garage door open and the heavy footsteps of your mechanic’s steel-toed boots stomping to the small kitchen area. Renji perks a brow, pausing just as he’s about to toss the bag of popcorn into the microwave. “Head in the clouds today, eh?”

Shaking what’s left of the scare away, you close out the email forwarded to you. “Sorry… Just got caught up and didn’t hear you come in.”

“Must be something heavy if you didn’t hear me.” You’ve chided Renji for just how noisy he is many times, ever since you partnered up with him to run his shop just over a year ago and have lost count of how many times you’ve been on the phone with a customer and they could hear the sounds of Renji yelling in the shop.

“I don’t know if heavy is the word for it. It’s stupid, really… But some things are hard to let go of even ten years later.” You murmur the last part to yourself more than to Renji, and he soon settles into his usual chair in front of your desk with his freshly popped snack.

“Well, what is it?” He gathers up a handful of popcorn, dropping in a few pieces into his mouth and chewing expectantly, raising a brow at your hesitation. You were fine the last time he came up here! What could’ve happened in the two hours he’s been hard at work in the garage?

Sighing, you pull the email up again. “My high school reunion is coming soon.”

“Oh. And… it’s a bad thing?” He asks carefully, considering each word with more finesse than when he does electrical work. Oh god, are you about to enter some weird, way too early midlife crisis?? He can already barely handle you while on your period, he’ll never survive this—

“I mean, I guess it isn’t? Or it shouldn’t be. I dunno… High school wasn’t really great for me.” Your lips twist as that sinking, dismal feeling claws back into your gut.

Renji shuffles more popcorn into his hand. “I don’t think it was for most people, really. ‘S why I dropped out and started this up.”

“I wasn’t really bullied or anything. I just always felt like I didn’t belong, y’know? Nobody really talked to me or got to know me, and I kinda just stopped trying after a point. I had a few friends I’d made, but never ones that I’d meet outside of school or anything like that. I never went to the dances or football games, or even the skating rink when I was in middle school and that was the thing middle schoolers did every Friday night. And going to this reunion, I think it’d just… Be more of the same. I don’t wanna feel that way again. I doubt anyone would even remember me!”

Who could forget a face like that? Renji thinks to himself. “‘S up to you. When is it?”

“The end of next month.”

The redhead nods thoughtfully, dumping the last of the popcorn into his palm. “Let’s make a deal. You go to that reunion, and I’ll be your plus one.”

“You sure? It’s probably gonna be boring…”

“I’m a dropout, so ‘s not like I’m getting any other opportunity to be bored to tears and watch guys that peaked in high school football reminisce about how they almost got to go pro. C’mon, chin up! If it’s no good, we’ll make it good. Okay?”

A warm feeling pushes out the nastiness in your tummy and a warm smile replaces the unsure pout on your lips. “Alright. We’ll go to this stupid thing.”

The corner of his mouth perks up a tad. “I can even pretend to be part of the British monarchy to shake things up, if you want.”

“Ren, no.” A giggle bubbles at the mere idea of Renji attempting any sort of British accent. And this guy, the one with tattoos that start at his forehead and go all the way down to his ankles, playing royalty?? Only a fool would believe him!

Though thinking about it further after Renji’s head back into the shop to finish the day off, you surmise that it’s not entirely impossible that you attended school with just the idiots that would think a foreign prince is at their ten year high school reunion, and on your arm!

The day comes quicker than you’d hoped. It’s been a miserable slog to prepare for (figuring out what to wear to a ten-year reunion was far more difficult than it had any right to be!) but with the help of Renji’s assurance over the last few weeks, you’re quite calm as you add the final touches to your hair, makeup and outfit. He’s on his way now to pick you up, surely in one of his restored classic cars to add just a little bit of style to your entry, and your heart thumps quickly in the face of his impending arrival. Having been a friend and business partner of Renji for over a year now, you still haven’t spent much time in these sort of scenarios together— this could almost be a date. Your cheeks scorch at the thought of your friendship with Renji taking that sort of turn. It’s unlikely at best and absolutely impossible at worst! Your threads just can’t cross like that, even if the attraction was there. Too much rides on the line of your professional relationship, and to lose that would lead to a litany of problems that would only drag you right back into the messes he and you both were in back when you first met.

Cracking down as your curious mind almost starts contemplating the what-ifs, the doorbell is ringing with Renji waiting on the other side. His grin nearly blinds you, though the roaring of wanton blood rushing through you overwhelms all of your other senses. Here this man is, handsome and sweet-smelling and on your doorstep.

For a non-romantic evening spent around your former high school peers. It’s a wonder how life manages to keep kicking you while you’re down.

“Hey, you ready to go? You look great.” Those warm eyes of his are hungry and he’s not afraid to show it. You opted for a tried and true classic in the form of the little black dress, and while it’s no trendsetter or daring attempt to make any statements, it’s certainly going to draw eyes. Renji’s got half the mind to ditch the dumb reunion entirely and take you out somewhere more deserving of such beauty— alas, he doesn’t tend to frequent any place that isn’t his garage or a dive bar, and it’s not what he’s been asked to do anyway.

And getting the opportunity to take you on a date is something he can only achieve in his daydreams.

“Me? Let’s talk about you for a second!” A flirty giggle bubbles up. This is the first time you’ve seen his hair down and it’s gorgeously spilling over the shoulders of his deep green suit jacket that compliments him like no other color you’ve seen him wear. He’s delicious, tantalizing, so radiant and, criminally, is not here for any of the things you’re wishing he’s here for. “Goodness, Ren, you look amazing!”

Renji’s cheeks dust a rosy shade. “Had to clean up nice for you. The foreign prince offer is still on the table, after all.”

Snorting, your purse is hooked over your shoulder while you step beside him and lock the front door behind you. “No, it isn’t.”

“You’ve never had fun a day in your life!” Renji’s pout is pitiful, but quickly wiped away as he leads you to the car. Your assumption of his vehicle of choice was right, the exterior particularly shiny after a fresh coat of wax Renji applied earlier today. You’re certainly set to turn heads when you arrive at the country club the reunion is held at!

Your palms begin to feel clammy as Renji closes your door and crosses over to the driver’s side. The club is about a twenty minute drive away, maybe thirty if there’s traffic, and then you’ll be face to face with your graduating class. Have they been successful? Will they remember you? You can’t decide if it’s for the best or not if they have no ideas about you. What will keep them from shutting you out like they had ten years ago?

Renji’s curved knuckle taps beneath your chin, guiding you to look over at him. The car is small, and your proximity to your mechanic as such is far closer than you’ve ever been. His breath is minty, fanning warmly over your skin as his deep voice coaxes at you gently. “Hey... Relax. This is only gonna be as bad as you let it be. High school didn’t mean anything back then and it damn sure isn’t gonna mean anything now.”

“I don’t wanna feel left out again.” You whisper with glossy eyes and a wobbly lip that threatens to ruin your makeup.

“You’re not gonna be left out! I’m gonna be there the entire time, right by your side. We’re gonna drink and talk to people and have a good time. Don’t psych yourself out, okay??” He murmurs sweetly, and he may as well be chanting don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry over and over with that look on his face. He’s really the biggest sweetheart despite what your first impression of him had you thinking way back when—  a pretty girl in tears may as well be his kryptonite!

“Promise?” You blink away your tears with a sniffle, and Renji’s lips curl into a smile.

“I promise. And you know it’s true because I’m a terrible liar. Just trust me and it’ll all be over before you know it.” He winks at you and turns to start the car up, and the fears in your chest fade away rather than strengthen the closer you get to the venue. What’s there to truly be afraid of? You’re in a beautiful car alongside a wonderful, handsome man that's doing his best to make you happy. A smile blooms on your lips, and you give Renji a strong hug upon exiting the car.

“Thank you, Renji.”

His cheeks blush the brightest pink, clashing awfully with his scarlet hair as his strong arms loop around you tightly. “Hey… Anytime.”

After parting, Renji offers his arm up to you, and you gladly take it! Walking into this reunion on the arm of a handsome man was the last thing you planned on doing when you first got the email, but for once life has decided to give you lemonade rather than lemons.

#renji abarai x reader #renji abarai imagine #renji abarai x you #renji x you #renji x reader #renji imagine #bleach imagine #bleach x reader #fic #x reader #reader insert

[sonicstalker123]

Protective!Korekiyo x Injured!Reader

CW: Blood, injuries, mentions of chapter 2’s victim, bruises

✨she/her pronouns will be used!✨

Korekiyo is in his lab, admiring all of the items and strangely Angie is in there too, creating a sketch of the god dog statue while Kiyo is infodumping telling her everything he knows about it and seances he’s done in the past.

“Nyahaha! Very inspiring, Kiyo! Have you ever talked to any of the spirits you summon?” Angie asks.

“Mmm, only spirits that have had grudges against other people and then I’ve… helped… out spirits and helped them move on to the afterlife.” Kiyo responds.

“Neat! I’m gonna finish this art piece and give it to you when I’m done, okay? Bye-onara!” Angie leaves.

“Angie is the last person I’d expect to come and visit my wonderful lab and genuinely showed interest in the things here. The only other person that shows interest is Y/N, the way her eyes sparkle when I first showed her everything is something I’ll never forget. It was very adorable. Speaking of which, where is she? We had plans to go to the garden and tell her some stories because she loves listening to them.”

Kiyo leaves his lab and wanders around, with a determined look in his eyes. He runs to a nearby classroom and looks around. “Odd. She comes here occasionally when she just needs a quiet space that usually nobody enters. Y/N comes in here when something serious is on her mind or if she is troubled about something. I learn new things about her all the time.”

Surprisingly enough, Kiyo runs very fast.

“I wonder where she could be. Could she be in her room perhaps?” Kiyo makes his way towards Y/N’s room and knocks on the door. No response. He decides to wait for a bit. After about five minutes he gets worried and calls her phone. Kiyo’s phone continues to ring and nobody picks it up.

He decides to call again and weirdly enough Kaito answers it. “Y/N? Where are you? Are you al-”Kaito interrupts him. “Yo, who is th- Wait… Kiyo??? Where are YOU? Something bad happened at the pool and everybody else is here and we were wondering where you were at. Ya know what? It doesn’t matter. Come to the pool immediately. Monokuma is here too.” Kaito hangs up.

Kiyo decides to text “Y/N” when he starts walking to the pool. ‘Kaito. I’m on my way.’ SEND.

“Hopefully Y/N is there, I just wonder why she wouldn’t message me or give me a call.”

The Ultimate Anthropologist eventually makes his way to the pool. He got lost for a little bit lol

He opens the door and everybody turns their head towards Kiyo. He looks at Y/N and is surprised. “Oh my. Why is she face down on the ground? Why does it look like the pool is a faint shade of red?”

Gonta picks her up and gently rolls her over and Y/N has bruises and blood on her arms and legs. Everybody gasps. His surprised feeling quickly turns to anger once he put the pieces together.

“WHAT HAPPENED. WHO DID THIS? Why is she bloody.”

“Well dipshit, it’s obvious she was attacked. Maybe she was thrown in the pool after she was attacked so she would drown.” Miu says, rolling her eyes. 

“Um… Kiyo.. Kirumi spotted her while she was cleaning and got my attention and Kaito got everybody else.” Tsumugi states.

Kokichi sneaks up to Y/N and starts slapping her in the face continuously, trying to wake her up. “Kokichi, stop! You’re going to make Kiyo even more ma-“ Kaede exclaims while Kiyo turns his head and stands right behind Kokichi. Kokichi sees his shadow and flinches. He eventually stops. He’s actually kind of scared.

“Are you trying to hurt her even more? If so, I will tear out your nerves.” Kiyo asks angrily.

“Grrr… you degenerate male! You should know better to not lay a hand on a girl! Especially my friends!” Tenko exclaims. She gets into a battling stance, wanting to beat the shit out of Kokichi.

Gonta starts to pat her on the back, in hopes of getting Y/N to cough up the water. “Please wake up for not just Gonta, but for all of friends…”

Kiyo walks up to Y/N and sits on his knees next to her. He picks her up and gives her a gentle hug, not knowing what else to do.

Moments pass and he feels that she’s getting warmer (aka blushing) and eventually coughs up a bunch of water.

Kiyo’s eyes widen, along with everybody else. Y/N tries to speak but she’s too busy coughing.

Y/N eventually stops and looks around in a panic. “What- where- KIYO? You’re here?”

Kiyo smiles and nods, putting his hand on her head, almost like he’s protecting her. Y/N smiles real big, still blushing.

“Damn Y/N, were you THAT thirsty or what?” Miu asks, laughing. Everybody but Y/N just gives Miu a LOOK that says ‘are you actually serious right now’.

Almost like “🤨”

Y/N starts to laugh under her breath and everybody then turns to look at Y/N. “Miu-“

Miu turns to look at Y/N, confused. “Yeah?”

Y/N just starts to laugh… like a genuine laugh. Everybody is just dumbfounded.

“I- That joke was… hahaha- very funny!” Y/N exclaims while trying to catch her breath.

“Wowwww, Y/N, you’re like the ONLY person who finds Miu’s dirty jokes funny.” Kokichi says while rolling his eyes.

Kiyo then starts to look at everybody in the room. “Anyways, Y/N, do you remember who your attacker was? Do you remember what they looked like?”

Y/N starts thinking to herself. “Umm, uhh…whoever it was… was short. I only saw a silhouette. I only saw them for a brief second…. I think everything went black? I could’ve been attacked and pushed out the window.”

Ryoma shudders. “I’ve destroyed the mafia before, but how come somebody falling out of a window send chills down my spine..? Odd.”

Kiyo then looks at Ryoma, Himiko and Kokichi rather menacingly, eyes glowing.

Himiko is the only one who’s actually terrified. Ryoma sighs. “You don’t need to suspect me, I was practicing tennis in my room.”

“Why would you suspect me? I have nothing against Y/N!” Kokichi yells.

“LIES! Just last week you pulled a massive prank on Y/N by hiding a bunch of her belongings! Some of them are STILL missing!” Kiyo yells with a hint of growl.

Kokichi starts laughing. “That’s hilarious!! She’s just such an easy target. She’s just dumb. I could prank the absolute shit out of her and nobody without suspect a thing.”

Korekiyo growls. “How DARE you say such a thing?”

“Oh man! It seems like you’re upset with me! I probably should’ve lied!”

Y/N looks up at her boyfriend. “Kiyo… I greatly appreciate you protecting me, you don’t know how much it means to me…”

“But of course, Y/N, you’re very precious to me. I would do anything for you.” Kiyo responds.

Y/N looks at Kokichi and growls. “You’re the one who took my prized belongings?!” Her eyes glow.

Kokichi sighs. “LIKE I’VE SAID BEFORE… Y/N… you’re so slow and a—“

Y/N dashes towards Kokichi with intense anger. She tackles him and glares at him rather intensely. “You need to learn to shut your fucking mouth, you motherfucker.”

“Y/N, please stop! Fighting with Kokichi will get us nowhere. We need to figure out who hurt you. But first. Monokuma! Come on out!” Kiibo yells and Monokuma pops up.

“What’s up? You called?” Monokuma responds.

“Take her to a nearby hospital!” Kiibo responds back.

“Well, alright, she hasn’t broken any rules. We have to go all the way to Jabberwock Island for that, are you SURE you wanna risk her dying? She might bleed out.”

Kaito and Kiyo look at her and then Monokuma. “Take her. Kiyo will kill us if she doesn’t come back so she better come back, Monokuma!”

“I wasn’t going to give you a choice really, just felt like doing a bit of trolling. As long as she, or anybody else for that matter, don’t break the rules, anybody can go to the hospital. Ah-ah-ah, you can’t come in here, Korekiyo, there’s no room.”

The Monokuma ambulance disappears in the blink of an eye.

Himiko notices some arrows. “Arrows? I bet this was used to attack her. Nyeh? What’s a necklace doing in the pool?”

“A necklace??? I thought that was one of the missing items. Does it have *insert your star sign here* on it?” Kaito asks.

Himiko nods.

“Why and HOW do you know about her necklace, Kaito?” Korekiyo asks.

“Dude, she wears it almost every day. It has a star sign on it and me being the Luminary of the Stars, I had to ask her about it and what star sign it was. And plus I got it for her, I thought it would be something she’d like, it combines our favorite things. Me? Stars and Y/N? Necklaces.”

The Ultimate Anthropologist walks into the pool and grabs the necklace, which was like four feet deep.

“You walked into the pool?! JUST LIKE THAT???? Holy shit, dude. Mad respect.” Kaito responds.

“But now your clothes are soaking wet and dripping water drops everywhere. Go change your clothes and come back here.” Kaede politely demands.

“I’ll be staying here, looking around for clues.” He responds.

Kaede shrugs and starts looking around with Shuichi. Korekiyo walks up to the arrows and notices something sparkly on the arrows. He then looks at the window and sighs. “Dear Y/N, who did this to you?” He hears his phone chime and looks at it. “Y/N??? How is she typing right now?”

‘Hi kiyo, at jabberwock island, hard to type with glass in my arms. I’ll be ok. Love u, they’re taking me to get the glass removed rn, hope to see u soon 🥰’

“GLASS?” Korekiyo exclaims.

“She fell from window, she bound to have glass in arm.” Gonta responds.

“Poor thing, she must be in pain right now. Glass in her arms, she’s bruised and bloody.” Tsumugi responds.

“I noticed that the arrows were sparkly. It’s odd, unless it was Himiko. I doubt it though.” Shuichi states.

Himiko sighs. “Nyeh… I was the one who accidentally hurt her. I was practicing my magic with arrows and she unfortunately went flying out of my window. With the arrows.”

“Himiko’s magic is real?! And she’s not just saying random shit???” Kaito asks.

Himiko doesn’t say anything and leaves the room with a deep and upset sigh.

✨time skip to a few days in the future✨

Kiyo sits on the floor and sighs, burying his face in his hands. Suddenly his phone starts playing a tune. “That’s my ringtone… Y/N?!” He quickly answers.

“Hey, I’m still in the hospital but I figured I’d give you a call in c-case you wanted to hear me s-speak. Damn these IVs are making me super sleepy… can you visit me? It’s… kinda lonely here…”

“On it, dear. See you in a little bit.”

Y/N giggles and says “alrighty” as she ends the call.

Kiyo makes it to the hospital, almost as if Himiko used her magic to get him there.

He finds his beloved, completely passed out from the medicine. “Hah, there she is. Safe. Okay. Thank the dog god.”

“I a-a-assume you’re the one that Y-Y-Y/N was talking about?” Mikan asks while walking up to him. Korekiyo nods. “W-We found a t-total of 53 shards in her a-arms. We got her wounds s-stitched up t-t-too. She will b-be o-o-okay soon.”

Haha iykyk the 53 joke

“I see… thank you.”

Mikan leaves and Korekiyo sits next to Y/N and holds her hand. “Y/N, we know who did this, Himiko did it. She confessed. I’m sure the others are justifiably mad at her. You’re going to be okay, I promise.” Korekiyo holds her hand.

✨time skip to a few days✨

Y/N walks through the hallways, relieved to see everyone, minus Kokichi and Himiko. She ignores them both.

“Hey, welcome back, Y/N!!! You good now? Here’s your necklace! Kiyo here found it and walked STRAIGHT into the water for it. It was super badass!” Kaito exclaims.

#sonicstalker123 #rilesthepirate #korekiyo x reader #angie yonaga #tenko chabashira #gonta gokuhara #kokichi oma #miu iruma #shuichi saihara #tsumugi shiraishi

[yaravella]

More Than Anything pt. 1 - Gepard Landau

Gepard Landau x Reader // pt. 1

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Warning: angst, unrequited love, modern au

Synopsis: One day Serval brought you home and you have been a part of Gepard's life ever since. When he discovered he had feelings for you, it seemed it was too late.

Masterlist

[Greeting to everyone who read this. I've been really excited to write about Gepard lately, and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing this. English is not my first language so don't hesitate to correct me if I made mistakes. Feel free to request or talk to me through the message, comment, or ask box!]

---

Gepard didn’t remember the first time he met you. Probably in his freshman year in high school, when Serval brought you home for the first time to hang out in her studio. He just remembered he saw you awfully a lot since then. Singing to Serval’s off-tune guitar melody, eating cereal while writing lyrics on the kitchen bar, saying “Hiiiii, Gepard” in a sing-song voice whenever you saw him. 

Not gonna lie, he didn’t find you lingering around the house to be pleasant at first. If you’re over, the house would be blasting with deafening music that he didn’t get where the hell is the enjoyable part from them? And you sing almost everywhere, dear God. It’s not like you have a bad voice, but should you sing everywhere??? It didn’t help that if you saw him, your eyes lit up and you immediately danced, seemingly to tease him. So annoying.

Yet, that's how you become familiar. He didn’t mind you singing around the house anymore. Sometimes, he even joined, humming softly to your melody. He found himself hanging around the kitchen island every time you were there writing lyrics, giving you his thought and opinion about it. Sometimes he asks for a piece of paper from you, drawing you.

"Oh, Picasso~" you said teasingly, "The resemblance is uncanny."

He knew you were kidding, but it made him feel happy. If he doesn't feel like doing anything, he will be just admiring you while you’re writing. Art is creating a piece of art. How’s that possible? 

You’re one thing that he wonders about whenever class finished. Are you going to be there when he comes home? Are you gonna sing along to your deafening music, that he comes to like too, and dance for him today? Are you gonna greet him with your bright eyes? 

Sometimes he caught himself smiling at the thought of you. Does he have feelings for you? Maybe. You are beautiful, smart, and charming. And you treated him nicely. He thought it was only normal if he felt something toward you. But it’s nothing serious. Though he didn’t really know which category should he put you in. Crush? Well, he’s a guy. He also felt things to some girls at school, went on dates several times with them. Any relationship he had with them is short-lived though.  Did he want to date you? But that might ruin this comfortable bubble he has with you, right? He didn’t want that. He wanted to be close to you, and he’s okay with whatever he had with you right now.  And it has been years since you're around. He didn't want to risk anything.

If only he’s good with music, he’d follow you along to major in music. But he thought artistic traits only ran through Serval’s blood in the family, so he’s fine to enter the same university as you. This is a silly crush, nothing more, anyway. It would be nice to see you in the same class as him though. But seeing you greeting him in his house is enough. Dancing and singing to your silly music. 

However, he rather wishes you didn’t come today. 

When he arrived home, he was greeted by heavy metal music blaring in the room. A bunch of people lounged around the living room area, seemingly too busy talking or jamming to the music to notice him.

And you are there too, singing and bobbing your hair left and right to the music. Looking so beautiful as your hair goes wild swaying here and there following the rhythm. Looking so beautiful with a man draping his arm around your shoulder. 

“Ah, you’re home already, Gepard?” he didn’t even realize that his sister was also there, sitting opposite you. Everyone’s eyes were immediately on him. Including you. He felt like a deer caught in the headlight. He didn’t even care about the other people that surround the table. His eyes immediately found yours, which lit up when they met.

“Hiii, Gepard~” Oh, aren’t you so cold? Calling him with that sing-song voice with a man around you. 

He tries to ignore the tightened feeling around the pit of his stomach as much as he tries to ignore the gaze of the dark-haired man beside you. His eyes travel to your hand which rests on top of the guy’s thigh. Your boyfriend? Since when do you have a boyfriend? 

Gepard just nodded his head as an answer to both his sister’s question and your greeting. He’s trying really hard to mask the upsetting feeling that rapidly built up inside his chest. Disappointment? Anger? Or this is jealousy, perhaps? 

He doesn’t waste one more second to be there and immediately walks to his room. Hopefully, no one notices his weird behavior. Hopefully, you don’t notice it. 

But slowly that day he noticed something. You are more than a silly crush he had just to fill his adolescence experience. You are more than a familiarity that greets him whenever he was home. You are more than the song he constantly hears. You are more.

Feeling defeated, he dropped his body to his bed. Now that he realizes you are more than everything he thought you are, it feels like it’s too late.

#hsr x y/n #honkai star rail #hsr x reader #hsr x you #gepard #gepard landau #gepard x reader #gepard honkai #gepard landau x reader #gepard landau x you

[sorryimananti-romantic]

hi! i just wanted to come on here to firstly ask a question, then praise your work!

first, my question is what’s your writing process? whenever i try to write, i always end up getting distracted because i worry so much about how i start the story. should i begin with a line of dialogue? should i start with a rhetorical question/vague backstory that leads into a character’s current situation? should i just start with action straight off the bat? i literally never know. there are some days where i get the inspiration to write all day, but i never end writing anything because i get stuck on the intro or research.

i even have a document with the first few paragraphs of multiple works that i like just to see how these wonderful pieces start. one document of mine is like one page long and it’s only filled with possible intros. LITERALLY NOTHING ELSE!! and they’re all so different from each other! yours always lead into the story so well and they’re never the same, so i applaud you!

anyways, onto your well deserved praise! you are literally the only writer on this site that i genuinely look forward to. when you released guerilla, i literally squealed and i don’t do that. maybe a giggle here and there, but never a squeal. not only do you write long stories (which i personally prefer. 20k - 50k words? AND it’s good writing?? you deserve a kiss on the head from God himself!), but quality writing, good punctuation, no overused dialogue tags, badass reader characters, and always a happy ending. you’re truly a godsend! especially because of your happy endings (and badass reader character— emphasis on badass). there’s this one seonghwa piece that’s like over 50k words, but it doesn’t have a happy ending so i haven’t read it. for me, fiction should end with the reader being happy so if i won’t be happy at the end, i don’t want to read it. but that never happens with you. i’m sure i’ve read all your pieces at least once and i can positively say that i’m always smiling like an idiot after i finish.

overall, you’re a writer that i learn from and you’re writing is absolutely awesome. keep up the good work and make sure to take care of yourself! i may not know you personally, but that doesn’t mean i can’t think you deserve all the good things in the world for creating a universe that readers can get immersed in and forget about reality for some time. all for free at that too. you deserve the world and more. so does everyone else reading this though! can’t wait for your next release! you’re awesome!!

omygod. this has to be the best message i have ever received and i'm smiling so hard. i read this like three times before i came up with a few words to respond (if you know me, you also know i struggle with this ahaha 😭)

first of all, thank you so much for the praise, i can't tell you how much this means to me and this came at the right time- perhaps, you're godsend for me! (struggling with this one fic and i refuse to write anything else until i finish this one bc it's collected dust for far too long now). you squealed when you saw guerrilla? 😭 you prefer long stories? 😭 and you like happy endings? 😭😭 that's me yes ahaha

thank you so much, glad to have another person here who likes the length of my fics (bc of you all i have been physically unable to keep my oneshots short). i'm glad my writing style appeals to you! i know my english isn't perfect but thank you for appreciating it! one thing i refuse to write is a basic reader character (not that we don't like a basic reader character once in a while-- i just always gotta add a little sth 😭) (might write a basic reader soon tho ahaha) as for the happy endings, i do have a few tragedies planned for the year but you're absolutely right-- we love our happy endings. if i have to make sth tragic, it will be ending on a bittersweet, it-had-to-be-this-way note and i hope i can write it well and i hope you read that whenever i post it too! i'd love to hear what you think of it (it's far in the future but one day i will)

to answer your question, my writing process for a long time was literally just sit and write whatever's coming to me. most of my fics have been spontaneous like that-- sudden impulse, unplanned everything, just a general idea of the roles of the main characters and a basic idea of the plot-- not even the ending. i don't like to plan the ending, actually. i like to simply plan how it begins, what the key points are, and the ending comes naturally from there.

one thing i've started doing recently is just write my thoughts in a paragraph or bulletpoints (bc i have the memory of a goldfish) but it helps if you want to prefer planning and then writing. the most important advice i can give to anyone here is to not be afraid to write. literally write whatever you want, and do not be afraid to edit. or even rewrite. cannot stress this enough. i'll give an example:

with guerrilla, i had the trope: serial killer/doctor/biker yunho and crime fiction writer reader. no background of the characters. no ending in mind. simply that they were housemates, there will be dark humour involved and yunho will gradually warm up to the reader. that was literally all i had! when i opened the doc to write, i thought about how i would want it to start-- i think with intros, you gotta write sth that gives the readers a basic idea of where they are, why they are there, who they are, etc. and then you can continue the story, so you gotta shape the intro to attract their attention with a general idea, right? now i just went with the flow, wrote whatever i wanted to, and whenever i would add some detail, i would go back and edit it in- either in the form of dialogue or some foreshadowing (we love foreshadowing). when i thought of their tragic past? went back again to edit that in. so basically just a series of writing, editing what's written, cutting what looks unnecessary now, and voila.

so how should you start your story? depends on the story. sometimes, it needs to start with action when it's an action heavy plot, right? we would like to find ourselves in a middle of a fight or sth like that to set the tone immediately. so whatever the theme of your story is, you gotta set the tone in the first part! also, don't be afraid to start from wherever you want- you can always add parts later! like my series take me home-- i literally started from the middle and when i came up with a plot twist that supported what i wrote, i went back and wrote the first half LOL and then i planned the ending from there. i think readers also prefer if you don't add unnecessary details/scenes in the beginning, yeah? fillers are for inside the story, not in the beginning or the ending.

also, don't be afraid to experiment! write what you're the most comfortable writing, don't be too hung up on research and facts-- you can literally make anything up because it's fiction. it's your world and your rules. i literally make up whole new universes to save myself from the hassle of real-life technicalities (you may have noticed how i never use real places or setting lmao). if you have an idea that you really want to write, start with there, and simply, write. let the words flow, let it go wherever your mind takes you. you'll find your hands typing by themselves! you can worry about if it's good or not later, just write! (you won't believe me but as i'm finishing writing a fic, i begin to kind of hate it. no amount of reassurances convince me that it's good enough bc i am the writer. i still post and when i receive feedback, that's when i realise it might be good! and when some time has passed and i reread it, i'm sometimes amazed- i wrote that? how will i top that? and the cycle continues 😔✌️)

also, thank you for that sweet little msg at the end 🥹 literally sending my best to you. you deserve all the good things too! i'm glad you're able to get yourself lost in the universe i create for my fics, that means i'm doing a good job 🥹 thank you again! <33 i hope you won't be afraid to write and simply wing it LOL that's how i do it and you know what?

the most unplanned and spontaneous fics have been the most loved here.

#just write is literally the best advice i can give LOL #it sounds like a joke but literally #the fics that i just wrote without planning driven by pure impulse #are ppl's favourite here (and mine too) #this was such a lovely ask #thank you again! #yumi.asks

[ejzah]

A/N: I swear I was working on this chapter before I got that anon ask today, but it just encouraged me to finish it more quickly.

***

In Miss Blye’s Class, Part 30

Kensi spent the night fuming after she left Deeks’ house. After meeting Monica, she perfectly understood why he’d been so out of sorts. She’d only spent a few minutes with his ex and had to resist the urge to throw something. She could only imagine how difficult it was to deal with her snide comments and manipulation for hours at a time.

She didn’t know what Monica would tell Deeks, if anything, though he’d like wonder where the coffee mysteriously appeared from. Over the course of the evening, she picked up her phone half a dozen times to call or text Deeks, but ultimately decided not to. Deeks had enough on his plate without her adding more drama. She’d just have to hope that Monica didn’t try to paint her in a bad light, and if she did, that Deeks could see through the lies.

When she got to work the next morning, Nell took one look at her face, and immediately got out her stash of chocolate, offering Kensi the meerkat decorated jar. Kensi took three Reese’s and started setting up for the day. She’d been too distracted last night to prep as much as she should have so now she’d have to rush to get things ready before the first bell.

“Ok, spill. You walked in here looking ready for murder,” Nell said, making herself at home in Kensi’s desk chair.

“I went to surprise Deeks with some coffee, but when I got there he wasn’t home. But Monica was,” Kensi explained tightly.

“Oh crap, what happened?”

“Let me see. She said she’d been wanting to meet me, accused me of being jealous, and told me all the things she knows about me and Deeks.” She dropped a wipe off writing page at each spot at one of the round table, then tore the wrapper off a chocolate and shoved it in her mouth. “And then she had the audacity to say she’s just looking out for him,” she ranted, slamming a basket of markers in the middle of the table. “Looking out for him would have been, I don’t know, coming to see her son more than one every year or so. Or maybe not just up and leaving her family.”

Kensi turned around, hands on her hips to face Nell. She was slightly gratified to see Nell’s stunned expression.

“Oh my god, that’s insane. What did Deeks say?” Nell asked.

“I didn’t tell him.”

“Why the hell not?!” Nell shouted, then seemed to remember where they were, and lowered her voice. “He needs to know how crazy this woman is.”

“I’m pretty sure he knows,” Kensi hedged. Nell gave her an unimpressed look. “Fine. I didn’t want to bug him with it. Monica was infuriating and has zero sense of boundaries, but she didn’t actually do anything truly terrible. He’s dealing with enough as it is.”

“He’d still want to know,” Nell insisted.

“You’re probably right. I need to cool down a little more before I make any decision though. Deeks does not need to hear the rant you just did.”

“Yeah, that’s probably for the best.” Reaching into the candy jar, Nell tossed Kensi another piece. “And in the mean time, I could have Eric delete all her online information and presence. He wouldn’t leave a trace,” Nell offered, with a focused, slightly unnerving stare that scared Kensi a little bit. “It’s not obvious and hard to track. ‘Oh, none of your credit cards are working and no one knows who you are? That’s odd.’”

“I don’t think that will be necessary,” Kensi said quickly, and Nell shrugged, checking her watch.

“Well, the offer is always open if you change your mind. I have to go set up watercolor stations. The first graders are making coffee filter fishies today.”

“Cute. Thanks for listening to me rant.”

Nell gave Kensi a hug, adding in an extra squeeze. “Anytime.” When she pulled back, she fixed Kensi with a serious look. “Talk to Deeks.”

“I will.”

Smiling in approval, Nell headed for the door in her usual swirl of skirts.

“Oh, and just to reiterate, that is a complete no on the digital erasing!”

“You’re no fun!” Nell called back from down the hall.

***

“No, that is not a satisfactory offer,” Deeks muttered to himself, setting the proposed contract for a new client aside, and grabbing a pen.

“Deeks, just who I was looking for.”

He didn’t need to look to know that Talia would be leaning halfway through his door.

“Not in the mood today, Talia,” he said shortly.

“Aw, are things not all sunshine and rainbows in Marty and Kensi land?” she asked. Deeks odd look up now, and smiled tightly.

“Our relationship is just fine, thanks for asking. Now, I have like ten contracts to review today, so I could spare your usual charming presence.”

He knew he was being unnecessarily rude, even to Talia, who thrived on getting him to react. His patience was at an all time low after spending increasingly more time in Monica’s company over the week though.

Instead of taking the hint, Talia grabbed a spare chair, dragging it right next to his. She spun it around to sit backwards, resting her forearms on the back.

“Wow, you really are out of sorts. You haven’t been this cranky since you first started, and definitely not since you met the teacher,” she noted, tiling her head to observe him. “Hm, bloodshot eyes, bad mood, doesn’t want to talk…did you have a bad surf?”

Deeks huffed out an irritated laugh. “No.”

“They ran all out of fish tacos at your favorite truck.”

“No. Are you done?”

“Definitely not. I’ll keep going until you either tell me or I guess right.”

Sighing, Deeks pressed his palms over his eyes. He did not have the energy for this. “My ex-wife is back in town after no contact for over a year, and now she seem to be trying to rebuild her relationship with Caleb. So naturally he’s a mess, I’m a mess, and she seems to be having the time of her life.” He finished by blowing out a noisy breath. “Sorry. That was a lot.”

Talia shook her head, looking angry. “Don’t apologize. I’d be mad too. Who does your ex think she is waltzing in and trying to insert herself back into your life?” she demanded.

Deeks turned his head to squint at her, vaguely surprised the intensity of her response. “Wow, I had no idea you felt so strongly about my dysfunctional personal life.”

Talia jabbed a finger at him. “Hey, the only one who gets to torture you, is me. Plus, I find your relationship with the teacher adorable.”

“Wonderful.”

“So where’s she staying? Not with you I hope.”

“Thank god, no,” Deeks said with a shudder. “I honestly don’t know and don’t care. I learned the first time she came back that it’s best to keep as much as a separation as possible. But, she’s been coming over for dinner or visits every couple days.”

“Do you have visitation rights set up?”

“Nah, I have full, uncontested custody. I’m letting the visits happen for as long as Caleb wants them.”

“I hate flighty parents,” Talia said darkly, adding to Deeks’ raised eyebrow. “I had an uncle like that. Give me just five minutes alone with your ex. I’m trained in jiujitsu, karate, taekwondo, and good old knock-down-drag-out fights,” she informed Deeks with a significant nod.

“Good to know. You worry me sometimes,” Deeks commented lightly. “Also, how have you not been arrested before?”

“Hey, there’s a reason I became a lawyer.”

“Lovely. I think I’ll pass on that for now.”

“Suit yourself,” Talia said, slapping her thighs with her palms.

“You know, it actually helped talking to you,” Deeks said, surprising himself by admitting it. “Thanks.”

“Of course. It’s no fun messing with you when you’re already in a bad mood,” she told him. Because of course she couldn’t just take a compliment. “As repayment though, you will be buying me lunch today.”

“I think I can handle that,” Deeks sighed. Talia nodded in approval.

“Oh, and just in case you need an outside perspective, I’m always happy to talk over the legal side of all this,” she added. “Totally on the down low though. I can’t have people thinking I’m friendly.”

“I won’t tell a soul,” Deeks promised, smiling for the first time all morning.

***

A/N: I hope you enjoyed the parallel of Kensi and Deeks each getting advice and a listening ear from a friend. This version of Talia is certainly a lot more helpful and less handsy than in canon or my previous interpretations.

#ncis la fanfiction #marty deeks #kensi blye #densi #Nell #Talia #teacher Kensi #lawyer Deeks #self-indulgent writer #friendship #in Miss Blye’s Class #part 30 #teacher au #ejzah fanfiction

[fainthedcherry]

ALSO; Here's ANOTHER piece I forgot to post, but was really excited to post. Yeeeah it doesn't get better with my inconsistency and forgetfulness, I know, it's only getting worse haha.

THIS IS A COMMISSION THIS TIME, for my friend Hollowed-Hartlocke on DA and TH!!

Owloette and this outdated, redesigned version of Hoodude belongs to Hollowed-Hartlocke design wise,

Chiri belongs to me (she's in the BG by request of Hart)

Vanilly Hoodude Voodoo belongs to Mattel, and so does Heath Burns (to the right of the drawing.) ((The outfit is not official, I made a random outfit design to fit thematically))

Thank you SO SO much for believing in me, being so patient for me for so many years now!! I am so happy, that you were the first person, to actually pay me in IRL money, what an honour, that my friend is so nice to me man. 🥺💖

Yes, a commission! In this modern day, can you believe it? I've yet to finish 2 more comms, I hope to finish them this year, honest to god. It's so hard to get a grip on some responsibilities, as I gotta figure stuff out appointment-wise with my driver's exams, psychologist-stuff abt my diagnosis still, and ofc, deal with the fact, that I gotta babysit my coworkers (not exaggerating, I keep being bugged on my weekends about my coworkers over some random annoying stuff they didn't wanna do under the normal work-week), and continue to study for tests and finish a presentation until next week.

^As you can tell, it's a bit stressful lately, which is why I had difficulty drawing at home, getting out of bed, to add with cramps post-work, hip- and knee pain in my bones, migraines. it all stacks up, and it doesn't help, that I lately had a spike in my ADHD seemingly acting up again. Been unable to concentrate, been getting overwhelmed, been having some EXTREME time-blindness. It's a bit hard with life lately. :")

It probably makes sense, why I was absent for a good bit. I ache a lot physically, and mentally lately and just. A. LIFE. I DO NOT LIKE IT. BUT MUST SURVIVE IT.

I again, tried something different with the lighting here, being a more direct-light source! I tried to make the lights look harsher, and I think this isn't too bad! Again, in hindsight of 2024, months later, shoulda proooobs made the shading sharper in appearance, still looks too soft, for direct-light hitting this floppy fellow. And also, added a drop-shadow for Heath near the lighting. Dear god, I wish I wouldn't make so many mistakes aaaa.

But oh well, that's what passage of time is, growing up, sucking up mistakes, trying to rid of your perfectionism.

#digital art #artwork #art #my art #artists on tumblr #character art #original art #semi realistic #monster high g1 #monster high oc #monster high #hoodude voodoo #hoodude #mh #not my oc #not my character #commission #commission art #art commission #fainthed cherry #fainthed #fainthed-cherry #o0fainthedcherry0o #o0cherrypie0o #heath burns #heath

[mirabai0821]

Blood and Honey WIP CH 358/2

Pairings: Tav x Halsin / Tav x Astarion Warnings: Oh hey, more angst Words: 631 Summary: Halsin rescues Thaniel, but Tav breaks a rule. And though Halsin and Astarion are bitter rivals, unlike one another in every way, the only thing they can agree on is kicking off in Tav's ass when she does something incredibly dangerous. But it does not go the way they expect.

Tav barely had a moment to collect her breath before Astarion collapsed on her like a dying star.

“How very gods damn dare you!” He seized her by the shoulders, grip so hard it bruised, but his eyes held none of the fury of his voice, only fear.

“Astarion,” Tav sighed. “Can we give it a rest, it’s over. Everything’s fine.”

“No, everything is not fucking fine! Do you have any idea what you just put m—us through with your little stunt?” “C’mon Asty,” Karlach intervened, unsteady on her feet as her last healing potion worked its way through her veins. “No harm, no foul.”

“No! Don’t let a happy outcome overshadow what just happened!”

“You’re overreacting, Astarion,” Shadowheart said.

“I am not.”

“He is not.”

Two voices echoed. 

Astarion and Halsin.

The malignant shadows had dispersed as though banished by sunrise even though the land remained wreathed in darkness. But with its spirit returned, something in the air shifted, lightened. The first whispers of hope scented the breeze.

A miracle, Halsin thought, cradling Thaniel in his arms. But ice cold dread lingered where hope should have bloomed. Seeing Tav on the far side of the portal dredged up a fear that could not be calmed by Thaniel’s peaceful, sleeping face.

Fear that quickly morphed into anger. For the first time ever, he felt kinship with Astarion. He knew exactly what the younger elf felt, knew the exact shape and form and taste of his fury. It bubbled up the back of his throat, tasting of metal and bile.

“Halsin?” Tav reached for him but he shrugged away. 

“I told you to remain here,” he growled through clenched jaw and gritted teeth. 

“I only wanted to…”

“How much help could you have done dead!” Astarion screamed, uncaring of the fey child’s slumber.

“That’s not fair!” Karlach said. 

“No, no,” Astarion countered. “The tadpole in my head, you head, her head, Tav’s head, all our fucking heads – ursine company excluded of course – That’s!! Not fair.”

Tav rose to her full height, tail twitching angrily. “What would you have had me do? Let him die.”

“Yes!” Halsin and Astarion’s voices echoed again and this time they could not ignore it. They exchanged a look, both bewildered yet comforted to find themselves on the same side.

“N-no,” she said, voice wavering from steel to straw in a single syllable. “You don’t…” She looked between the two, lips quivering, eyes watering. The words were there on her tongue but she couldn't say them, she was afraid to say them like this. Tav took a shuddering breath, grateful that Shadowheart and Karlach were there to collect the shattered pieces of herself she knew she was about to leave behind.

“You don’t…You don’t get to pretend to care about me then ignore me. That’s what’s not fair.”

Astarion’s mouth flew open, a retort ready but nothing came, and his mouth shut again with an audible click. Halsin’s face merely burned with embarrassment, his fury melting away to leave behind shame. 

“You both have made it pretty clear that…” Tav stopped again, courage faltering, before it abandoned her wholly. 

But she didn’t care. 

“You’ve both made it pretty clear that I’m not who you want and that’s fine. I’ve accepted that. Made my peace with it. But I don’t understand why…why that also meant that I had to lose you both as friends too.”

“Despite that,” she continued. “I can’t…won’t …stop caring.”

“So there,” she finished.

“Well damn,” Shadowheart whistled. 

“Hell yeah!” Karlach agreed. “C’mon soldier, let’s get you something warm and boozy, you look like you took a bath with a cheese grater.”

Tav smiled, slinging one arm over the barbarian’s shoulder while Shadowheart took up her other. 

The women left the men behind in stunned silence.

#halsin x tav x astarion #baldur's gate 3 #not sure if this will make the final draft #but you can have this now as a treat #blood and honey