#as always your artwork is stunning!!!

[slut4jeon]

Everybody knows I’m a good girl, officer (jjk)

Officer!Jk x fem reader

Summary: Tiredly calling it a night after attending your workplaces celebration New Year's Eve party. You may have or not ran through a stop sign foolishly thinking no one would have been around to witness it…oh how wrong you were

Warnings: mature (18+), smut, degradation, unprotected sex, Voyeurism, don't read this if this does not interest you!! You have been warned!

I had this prepared early Jan but tumblr didn’t save my writing :(( so I gave up on it lmao. I also really wanted to write smth w tsx jungkook. The police trend w the Lana song gave me inspo for this although the actual trend isn’t in the fic.

-

You were calling it a night, exiting the noisy building that is your workplace. There was a currently a party in the building where your coworkers were celebrating the New Year's.

You were tired. The loud music and chatters annoying you. You chose a safer route tonight, sticking to sparkling cider since you were driving yourselves home tonight.

The cold air hitting your bare skin leaving goosebumps over your entire figure as youstep out into the windy area heading towardsyour parked car.

That's the consequence of wanting to look good and presentable for a celebration, you of course always look stunning. It doesn't hurt to get ready. You were currently sporting a black ysl mini along with a deep v neckline and a pair of matching black pumps. The shoes, also annoying by how sore they left your feet.

Black heels clicking onto the floor as you begin entering your car as you drove into the pitch black night. Admiring the way the twinkling city lights look, along with the lit up buildings and lampposts. You got a little too carried away when you were oblivious to the stop sign you foolishly didn't stop and passed by.

Regret lingered in your chest as you panicked over your foolish action. Perhaps you'd be fine as it is the late night and no cars were present, oh how wrong you were.

The sound of a police siren began ringing as the bright red and blue lights gaining up on the tail of your car. You pulled onto the side of the road swiftly and put your car in park. Your trembly hands gripping both hands onto the steering wheels most definitely leaving your palms and knuckles white. That's when you heard 3 knocks on your left side window.

"Shit" you muttered. Feeling a rise of mixed movement in your lower belly as you begin lowering your window. There you met the gaze of a handsome officer.

"Driving late on New Years Day? When everybody's drinking and celebrating tonight. License and registration." He spewed with a hint of sarcasm.

"Yes, of course." Your hand quickly traveled to your glove compartment pulling out the documents. Then, pulled your license from your clutch.

As he inspected you couldn't help but gaze at him. His raven black sleek parted hair showing off a bit of forehead. His black button up dress shirt that was tucked in the matching black jeans, and rolled up from the sleeves stopping before the elbows to show off his meaty arms that were covered in artworks of tattoos.

The stern look he holds as looking at your documents. The burrowed brow and line wrinkles in between the brows. He was attractive, godly attractive.

"Step out the vehicle for me" he said. You did as told

You couldn't help but gaze at him. He was an attractive specimen. But soon you were ripped out of your thoughts.

"Walk along that yellow line"

"Officer I'm not drunk or anything of the sor-" you were interrupted

"You were given instructions. I expect you to follow them." he bluntly said

Obeying his words you stepped foot onto the yellow line. The cold air doing you no justice as you were trembling from it.

What you weren't aware of was how he stared at your ass that was threatening to spill out of the little piece of flimsy material you call a dress.

Turning around, his gaze caught you off guard at how he stared at you as a helpless little fawn about to be hunt down by a hungry wolf.

"I'm gonna pat you down. Step right by the car for me, palms flat onto the vehicle", he demanded.

Swiftly obeying, you got into position. Beginning his pat down inspection from head to toe. His muscular hands roamed over your body. You wondered whether your goosebumps was from the cold wind or his slithering fingers tracing over your open skin.

As he got lower and lower, padding the waist and soon hips he made sure to grope onto your flesh just in case of any dangerous possessions.

You were a whimpering mess, biting into your bottom lip to suppress any noise coming out of your mouth. The attractive officer had an effect on you. Especially when passing your thighs and ankles, rising back to the top his movement slowed as he reached back to your thighs.

You let out suppressed mewls as his fingers inched towards your inner thighs. Your legs were gonna give up at any threatening moment. You questioned whether he caught onto your reaction to his touch.

His fingers were dangerous close to your soaking cunt. You were took aback at his touch you could not longer suppress the noises that urged to come pass your lips. Your heat was aching for his touch.

He took notice to your glistening folds in with your juices threatening to spill out of your wine red lace panties. The officer could no longer resist the temptation of the sweet treat in front of him.

Riding your dress a bit up his face inched closer to your cunt, nose and all. Hooking his fingers onto your panties and pushing them aside, he ate you out from behind. Your knees about to give in as he ate your pussy like a starved man. His tongue lapped over your clit playing with the cute bud left you a whiny mess.

"Please” you voiced out quietly

How cute, the officer thought. His fingers lathered your juices, leaving them coated and dripping. The sudden intrusion of his long fingers intruding into the tight ring of your hole.

With your mouth agape, your mind was left into a frenzy at how good the officer worked his fingers into your soaking cunt.

"Clenching onto my fingers, aren't you a little eager thing?", he said

You looked back to him to see his pretty pouty lips all swollen and tinted from eating you out. Your juices trailing down his chin and neck. He looked too edible.

He sensed you were near as your gummy walls clamped onto his fingers. Quickly pulling them out and robbing you of your release you mewled at the empty feeling.

You were a minx he thought. His cock hardening and imprinting his jeans. The feeling got only tighter as his fingers savored the taste of your pussy juices that coated his index and middle.

He needed more. Turning your body swiftly around the officer face to face with you connected both mouths together. His hands sneaked onto your hips and lower onto your ass making sure to grip the plumpy flesh.

You couldn't help out moan into his mouth as you both were in ecstasy. You needed more.

"Need to fuck that pussy, will you let me pretty thing?", who were you to deny him?

Eagerly nodding your head in confirmation. "Words, pretty", the officer said

"Please fuck me", you said in a desperate manner. That's all it took for him to roughly turn you around and begin grinding his hard length into your ass.

Desperate for friction you pushed out for him, like a bitch in heat. Your dress being a nuisance for him he unzipped you, freeing your bare body to be in display of his hungry eyes.

You wore no bra as the dress had padding, all you were left in was your wine lace panties. His lips traveled from your neck to breasts. Scattering marks as if he were leaving burns.

The way his teeth clamped onto your bud, sucking and pulling. Something about the way you were fully bare at his mercy as he remained fully clothed while he played with your pussy had you rubbing your thighs together.

"Officer please, fuck me!", you could no longer take it.

He smirked at your eagerness. Finding it humorously cute at how much of a cock hungry whore you are.

Your ears perked at the noise of him fumbling with his belt. His cock sprung free fully erect as he began aligning it to your entrance.

"O-oh! Fuck.., officer!", you blabbered incoherently as the intrusion of his length stretched your hole.

"-shit, such a tight little pussy", his pace greedily fastened.

You were a mess. All that was heard in the quiet night was the way he rammed his cock into your pussy. Balls slapping against your clit.

"Such a whore you are, aren't you? You like getting rammed from behind by an officer out in the outdoors?" he said as he continued abusing your cunt.

"Who would've thought a pretty thing like you was such a dirty slut, huh?" Your walls clenched by each word coming out of his filthy mouth.

"yes!yes!yes!", he fucked you deliciously good, your orgasm threatening to approach with his current pace.

You were cock drunk. Barely paying any kind of attention to the fact you were getting rammed out in public. Any person or car could pass by but your mind would only be focused on the way his dick drilled at a relentless speed.

His fingers sinked to your clit, rubbing your bud provoking your body to tremble in ecstasy of how he worked wonders on your body.

"Sir, i-it's too much!"

"You can take it ,baby. Milk my cock, make a mess.”

His words were perfectly on cue. Creaming his cock in your release. Falling limp into his arms. His release wasn't too far off yours. Head leaning into your neck as both of your panted. Silence went on for a few minutes before he helped with re-dressing you.

The officer broke the silence, "So, the names Jungkook. Could we perhaps exchange numbers, I'd like to take you out sometime soon.”

- end

[pseudowho]

Still got it

Artwork by Mmiyoart (2021)

The kids are teenagers, so you and Kento are just their boring parents...right?

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Imagine you and Nanami Kento as parents, but older now, in your forties, and the kids are teenagers at Jujutsu High (much to Kento's displeasure and concern).

The two of you always kept your work life separate to home; the kids knew what the two of you do of course, they all know Curses and Cursed techniques, your two daughters and a son being in possession of these talents themselves.

But you and Kento never come home in mission-wear. You're always patched up by Shoko, one of your oldest and dearest friends, before you walk through the door. Kento never winces as he cooks dinner in a fresh shirt, but behind your bedroom door at night, you gently push his shirt off his shoulders and bathe his wounds, gently kissing his bruises, his head resting back between your breasts as your arms curl round him from behind. You never discuss your kills in front of the kids, the evenings instead, full of talk of exams, arguments with best friends, chastising for using phones at dinner time.

You and Kento make sure you barely overlap at Jujutsu High, teaching students in the other years instead. Your daughters and your son know, in a vague way, that you're both respected First and Second Grade sorcerers in your own right, but to them you're just mum and dad.

Until, one day, that changes. Your three kids, all promising Second Grade sorcerers, and committed to the cause, get into trouble. The Curse they're sent to eliminate is so much stronger than they imagined. Your eldest daughter fights on bravely as your son carries their sister, wounded, to safety. All three are filled with terror as the Curse begins to overwhelm them, their short lives with you and Kento, their adoring parents, flashing in front of their eyes, wondering how the two of you would ever recover from their deaths.

Then, in a flash of black and red, Nanami Kento steps into the fight. A colossal wave of Cursed energy rolls over the children, stunned, breathless, eyes wide as their father, who does maths homework with them, who kisses them all goodnight at bedtime, who bakes at the weekends, instead now ruthlessly, effortlessly wipes the floor with the Curse that nearly killed his babies.

Kento is a demon in battle, tie ripped off, blunt blade whirling, his battle-hardened body just as imposing and lithe as it was in the years before the kids were born. The hands that held theirs when they were tiny, that threw them around ever-so-gently during play-fights, now wielded as weapons with murderous intent.

Even more alarmed are the children, when you appear beside Kento, and as the Curse staggers on its last legs, they hear you shout to Kento- "Throw me!" and, with not an ounce of hesitation, Kento tosses you like a rugby ball, for you to land the killing blow on the Curse.

You are smooth, meticulous, concentrated while making light work of a messy job. The children hear their father hum in approval of you as you take the Curse to task for its crimes against your babies.

Not even sparing the withering corpse a glance, you and Kento rush to your children. You hold your son and eldest daughter's faces, eyes full of tears as you check them all over for damage, their hearts swelling when you praise them for taking care of each other, for doing such a fantastic job holding out until you both arrived.

Kento drops to his knees beside his wounded youngest daughter, gripping her close to him, no less mighty and powerful after years of marriage and raising children. Nanami Kento manages the first and only reverse-cursed technique heal of his whole life, and repairs his daughter's wounds. He holds her to him and weeps quietly as she reassures him, wholly her mother's daughter. Kento grips his son gently around the back of the neck, pulling him down for a tight hug, his son almost breaking at Kento's familiar rumble praising him for prioritising his sister's safety, telling his son he's so proud of the man he's becoming.

Days later, and with the children now recovered, rumours of Nanami-sensei and Nanami-sensei's scathing criticism of and attack on the higher-ups is the talk of the Jujutsu High students. The children are silent throughout, still stunned by the overwhelming skill of their parents.

One of the other students jokingly raises the incident to your kids one day; "Oh man. I wouldn't like to have your parents mad at me. I'd never get over disappointing them."

"Are they...that much of a big deal?" your son asks his friend weakly. His friend raises his eyebrows, amazed, laughing.

"You mean the one and only legends, the Nanami-sensei's? Who the hell did you guys think raised you?"

You and Kento walk down the steps towards them, hands brushing together but not holding, keen to maintain professionalism at school. The children watch as your eyes meet his, love passing between you both, and wonder how they had thought of you as their boring mum and dad for all these years.

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[sillysowa]

RUNWAY MODEL

PAIRING: hobie brown x fem!reader

GENRE: suggestive, smut

WORD COUNT: 2.9k

WARNINGS: smut, vaginal fingering, choking (fem! and male receiving), vaginal sex, both hobie and reader are switches

AUTHORS NOTE: not proofread cause i’m so tired i can feel my eyes melting

SYNOPSIS: in which hobie brown is a model, and you are his favorite designer

—

Hobie walked into your studio nonchalantly with no apparent purpose, like usual. The day had been long and he was tired of bending around for the photographers, wanting to visit his favorite designer. He sat his tall figure in the chair across from you, kicking his legs up on the desk because he knows it doesn’t bother you,

“Oh, Hobie…you’re still here?” You mumbled drowsily, exhaustion present in your hoarse voice. It’s late and you probably shouldn’t still be here at the studio, but you’re so caught up in your work. Hobie leans forward slightly, catching glimpse at the scribble artistic designs that he can tell after for him,

“Mhm,” Hobie hums, “You never tire of this work do you?” He chuckles, leaning back and tossing around a pen of yours, “Y’alright? Must be tired.” He asks in that deep voice of his,

You sigh, “Of course…just…gotta get this right.” You scribble around on the paper,

Hobie’s interest is piqued at this and he eyes the sketch pad, “You know I’ll wear whatever you come up with.” He leans back in the chair, still studying the work in progress, “Don’t have to do such hard work f’me.”

“I know…that’s what makes it so complex…I mean there’s so many different things I can see you in! Like…this maybe?” You ramble, flipping around your sketch pad to show him the punk rock outfit you had crafted for him. It’s skimpy to say the least, exposing his abs, most of his legs, and the pants hang low, exposing that pretty V-line of his that you’ve seen with watchful eyes as he gets his pictures taken for especially seductive shoots.

Hobie studies the artworks with squinty eyes, a smirk spreading across his face,

“I like that one…” He smiles knowingly, bringing his feet off the desk to support his head in his hands with his elbows on his knees. He glances up at the design again, and then back at you,

“You always do these designs f’me, hm? Am I your favorite model?” He teases, smirking a little like he knows a secret.

You smile and lean back, chewing the inside of your cheek for a moment in contemplation, “I mean you’re honestly probably my favorite out of all the models I’ve worked with.“ You say bluntly, wanting to only slightly allude to how deep your desire for Hobie is. Clearly, it’s written all over your face. You notice his stare as he obviously tries not to smile,

“Wanna expand on that? You look a little…flustered.” His voice drops low, his flickering down to your lips and even lower for a moment.

“I’m not. You’re a stunning model, Hobie.” You smile, continuing your work. Your face is burning hot and you can’t look at him because all you’re thinking about is how how badly you want him to bend you over the table with his long fingers around your neck. He suddenly changes the topic,

“D’you think I could do a gig solely on m’hands?” He asks like he knows the answer, “I think you’re someone who can appreciate their beauty, hm? With your drawings n’all?” He smirks teasingly and you feel your heart drop into your stomach,

“What?”

“Well you’ve drawn my hands about a hundred times…I’ve seen it. Can’t even keep your eye off of em when we talk.” He replies, leaning in and shortening the distance between the two of you between the table. Clearly, he had been through your sketchbook—your stomach churned at the thought,

“And how would you know that?” You whisper, flustered at the idea of of being caught in a sense but so fucking up for this challenge that he’s offering—there’s nothing to be ashamed of now that he obviously knows you have a severe hand kink. He keeps smiling at you as if he was entertained by all this,

“Doesn’t matter. What does the bough is that you must take a hefty liking to my fingers, right?” He says, flexing them again across the table, stretched out to their full length. You don’t even give in to your desire, eyes locked on the way his middle and ring finger press together suggestively a d make your face feel hot.

You bite your lip, tearing your eyes away as you flip the pages on your sketchbook to change the subject,

“A-Anyways, I’ve also got this design you could try…”

Hobie just smiles and leans back, deciding to let it go for now and toy with you later. He looks at the papers for a while before he speaks up,

“You’ve done a great job.” Hobie says in awe, gesturing to the designs with a nod of his head and that signiature sly smile, “I like ‘em.” Hobie’s tone switches to his playful-work-voice of his now, and he reaches his hands out, gripping the edge of the desk as he stands,

“So, Y/N,” Hobie starts looking down on you. “Got any of these ready for me to try on?” He asks, leaning down to your eye level.

You squirm a little in your seat, your thighs clenching together. He always gets you so riled up you’ve never had this kind of one on one time together. You often just catch glimpse of him during his shoots,

“Yeah…I actually have one of them here if you really want to try it out early,” You say excitedly, walking to the clothing rack and plucking it off. Its gorgeous, grungy, and incredibly revealing. The other designers love to see Hobie in multiple layers and a lot of baggy clothing, but when you got lucky enough to catch the photographers bending Hobie around in nothing but tight boxers for his Calvin Klein shoot—you nearly died, “It’s a little skimpy.”

“Oh yeah? Just f’me?” Hobie chuckles, walking up behind you in the dimly lit room and brushing his hand onto of yours to grab the clothing hanger. He looks at you with his head over your shoulder, awfully close,

“If you wanted to see me naked could’ve just asked” Hobie teases, whispering in your ear before turning away from you. To your utmost horror and delight, he starts stripping right then and there,

“Oh my god you slut, right infront of me?” You gasp, turning around letting out a quick laugh in disbelief. Your face feels hot after catching the sight of his jeans catching on his dick as he pulled them down, looking at you out of the corner of his eye,

A snicker comes from Hobie as he gets undressed in a fashion comparable to a strip-tease,

“Oh come on doll, it’s not like you haven’t seen me at work with even less on. I don’t mind you watching.” He pry’s, his voice taunting and inviting like a sweet honey. You think of your job. You think about how you thought you were alone only 10 minutes ago before Hobie strolled in. It’s beyond after hours, and it’s just the two of you—quite literally a recipe for disaster. Hobie finished getting dressed, standing up straight in the designer outfit,

“Alright, alright, it’s safe you prude. Come get a look at your creation.” Hobie holds his arms out, flipping them and getting a look at it all himself before smiling at you. You turn and look at him and instantly your eyes as they widen,

“Oh…my…god…” You gasp, “You look so good!” Excitement covers your to face as you walk up to him, inspecting how everything fits. You marvel in the way his toned chest looks on display and his nipple piercings under the sheer top. The studded jewelry and leather accessories add so much to the look but most of all…his hands in those fingerless gloves are to die for. You inspect them closely, pulling them towards you as you dreamily stare at his long fingers, toying with them in your hands,

Hobie smiles in the silence of your admiration, “Y’know it’s kinda funny...” He murmurs. His left hand gently holds onto yours, lacing your fingers with his. His other hand grazes your side,

You freeze and look up at him—instantly, your stomach drops at his gaze, “What’s funny?”

“You clearly got a hand kink or something…or is it just mine, hm? Got a thing for me, miss designer?” He teases, gently pulling you close with his knee in between your legs. Your heart beats in your chest like a drum and your toes curl in your shoes. You lick your lips, melting at the proximity,

“Well it looks like you’ve got me all figured out huh?” You whisper as your skin warms under his touch, his hands feeling like fire on your skin. You shouldn’t be doing this…but it feels too good to stop,

“Yeah?” He pulls you up in an embrace, nuzzling into the crook of your neck with his hot breath on your sensitive skin. His left hand grips your hair as he whispers into your ear,

“Say it.” Hobie enunciates every syllable, his lips hovering over the sensitive skin of your ear. You press your body against him and all logical reasoning leaves your mind,

“I want you.” You groan into his ear, balling your fists around his mesh shirt. Hobie grins, and his voice is low and husky when he whispers,

“I know you do. I want you too, dollface.” He wraps his arm around you fully, one hand still in your hair, and the other around your back. He stares straight ahead, his knee edging further up between your legs as he whispers,

“Let me show you…” He whispers into your ear, biting it gently and leaning down to kiss your neck. Your mind melts and you nearly collapse against him—it’s an all numbing feeling to have model lips like Hobie’s on your neck and his tall stature holding you so close,

You moan softly and dig your fingers into his clothes at the feeling, his lips on your neck make you feel so good inside. His large thigh slides up and now your skirt is pushing and your warm pussy is on his thigh. It’s lewd and oh so embarrassing until he groans, his voice all needy and horny, right in your ear,

“Oh, fuck…you’re already so wet? I’ve barely touched you, love.” He coo’s clicking his tongue, slipping his hands under the back of your shirt and undoing your bra in a swift, skilled motion. He toys with the hem of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head. After getting you topless, his hands are palming your breasts wasting absolutely no time. You throw your head back and shamelessly whine at the feeling—the feeling being indescribable desire,

“God I just knew those—ah! Mmm-knew those hands would feel so good.” Your breath hitches in your throat as you mewl, his fingers pinching your nipples while you’re mid sentence. He laughs darkly at you, leaning down and taking one of your nipples into his mouth, squirming his tongue around the small bud,

“Mmm…” He hums around your skin, his eyes rolling into the back of his head for your viewing pleasure—and oh does it do things to you. Your desperate moans echo in the empty studio, the low lighting reflecting off of Hobie’s dark eyes driving you crazy,

One of his hands grabs your chin, and he stands up straight again, lifting your face up so that he could look into your eyes, “Keep making those pretty noises, gorgeous…” He murmurs, his eyes on yours flickering down to your lips.

You so badly want to kiss him that you can’t even wait for him, pulling him the collar of his shirt and meshing your lips against his in a matter of seconds, capturing his lips in a moral-melting kiss. You knew if anyone saw you two—colleagues—grinding and kissing in the studio late at night, you’d both lose your jobs on the spot; but there was no stopping now. His lips were like magic on yours. You felt your heart rate pickup the moment his hands met your thighs and he picked you up, walking you to the desk and never once breaking away from the desperate needy kiss you were sharing. When it starts to get to your head and you feel a need for air, you break away from the kiss, panting and looking into his lust blown eyes,

“Fuck me on that desk…right now.”

Hobie is shocked for a quick moment before a grin spreads across his face. He wastes no time in laying you onto the desk and kissing his way down your stomach, his fingers toying with the top of your skirt,

“What do you say I put these long fingers of mine to use, hm?” Hobie’s whispers, his voice raspy and sending need straight to your aching pussy.

“You better…” You thrust your hips up as he removes your skirt, his fingers grazing your thighs before he spits onto them, shoving two right into your tight pussy,

“Not so sure i’m the model anymore—fucking look at you…” Hobie groans, kissing your thighs as he slowly thrusts his fingers into you. His pace is agonizing, and you grab him by his wrist,

“Please…just shut up and fuck me…I’ve seen how big it is and I can’t wait any longer…” You grunt and Hobie’s eyes widen more than you’ve ever seen. It’s his turn to look flustered and the feeling of being spoken to in such a dirty manner is enough to make his dick twitch in his pants,

“How can I deny such an offer?” He laughs breathlessly, standing up and unbuckling his spikey belt, pulling everything down and letting his cock spring free. It’s long, and thick, and there’s precum leaking from his tip like the glaze on your favorite dessert. He feels his face heat up at your hungry stare, leaning down and cupping his hands in the bend of your legs, pushing them down at your sides and spreading your legs wide open for him,

“Please—“

“Yeah I know…” Hobie groans, smearing his pre-cum across your pussy and gently thrusting into you. It takes your breath away and shakes the desk, your mouth hanging open as a guttural moan tumbles out of your mouth,

Hobie groans and kisses your neck, “You’re so fucking tight.” Hobie whispers, his voice shaking. He groans and slams his hips into yours, his hands gripping your hips as he desperately fucks into you. Never in your entire life had you felt something so big inside of you—so filling and so fucking good. Of course a model as gorgeous as Hobie has such a perfect dick—but this position isn’t doing it for you.

You sit up, your hands on his chest as you push him down onto the desk and crawl on top. Hobie looks pleasantly surprised at this, his hands coming up to your hips,

“Fuck…” He whines, his head thrown back and his adams apple bobbing in his neck. You sink down on his length, grunting so loud you’d think it’s injuring you as your hand comes to Hobie’s neck. You give him a gentle squeeze and he nods at you, his eyelashes fluttering as he slaps your ass,

“C’mon.”

You ride him like your life depends on it, your hands tight around his neck and his clothes. The studio echoes with both of your moans and you feel your head spinning as his cock melts your insides, the sensation eliciting desperate moans out of you.

Hobie feels lightheaded and delirious with your hand around his neck and your pussy squeezing him so good, broken moans, grunts, and whimpers leaving his lips. The messy sounds fill the dark room and you can barely hold on any longer,

“Give it to me—please…”

You squeeze his neck just right and his hand comes up to yours as you ride him, your pussy clenching and your orgasm nearing. Now both of you are gripping each others necks, grunting and panting and falling apart so beautifully,

“I’m gonna—“ Hobie starts but he doesn’t finish…well he does. He cums deep inside you as you continue to ride him through it all, making a sloppy mess and coating his dick and thighs in cum. His head falls back against the hard wood and you ride his soul out until you cum. When you do, you’re shaking and moaning loudly, your hands moving from his neck to his shoulders to support yourself as you nearly pass out, pulling too hard on the mesh shirt and tearing it down his chest,

Hobie’s breathing is slow yet heavy as he tries to get a grip on reality now. His hands are still holding your hips and his brain still feels like jell-o, but he’s slowly coming to his senses,

“Y’look so good fucked out like this.” He mumbles, smoothing his thumbs over your bare skin,

“You think I’m the one who’s fucked out?” You giggle as you look Hobie over. His makeup is smudged, his clothes torn, and his eyebrows are as furrowed as they were when he came. He looks perfect, because how could he look anything but? He’s a model…and he’s your art no matter what,

“Wait stay right there…” You smile, walking behind him to your desk drawers and getting your camera, coming back around to his front. Hobie rolls his eyes and laughs incredulously at you, holding his pose with his elbows behind him, his lips parted and his eyebrows pinched, and his cock on full display still pumping its cum. You snap the picture and instantly swear to yourself that this would not be the last time you fuck Hobie.

—

@ohxx @luxxtuxx @fatenpara @hobesbf @defnot-bri

[art]

Creator Spotlight: @jijidraws

Jiji Knight is a latina pinup illustrator. Her work is overall geared toward thick ladies and dedicated to fat positivity out of a purely selfish need to create art she wished she had seen growing up. She often features sexy and soft macabre themes on vibrant or sweet colours and takes great joy in making folx feel good about themselves with her work. She holds a Bachelor of Fine Arts in Illustration and operates out of her very sunny hometown of Las Vegas.

Check out our interview with Jiji below!

Have you ever had an art block? If so, how did you overcome it?

Oh my gosh… I have art blocks all the time. My favorite way of overcoming it is by making fanart. Funnily enough, that’s something I don’t do in my own work anymore. But there are still IPs I return to that still bring joy to my heart. I love returning to drawing Sailor Moon like when I was in first grade. Or I’ll even look up the last fashion week and start drawing the fashion week outfits from the Paris or New York show. Stuff like that is what gets my creative juices flowing.

What medium have you always been intrigued by but would never use yourself?

Resin. Resin art is so stunning. People make the most amazing and beautiful sculptures using resin, and I don’t think I could ever bring myself to play with something so complicated. There are a lot of ways to cure it, and sometimes, it doesn’t cure properly…I already work with enough chaos as it is! I respect resin artists, but I don’t think I would ever touch it. I’ve admired it from a distance. There is an artist I follow who does these resin layer paintings. So they’ll paint a layer of resin, then cure it, and paint on top of the cured layer. They build up these amazing paintings using resin…I could never. Maybe one day!

What is one interaction you had with a fan of yours that has stuck with you over the years?

I still remember…It was my first and only Flame Con in New York. I had a fan come up to my booth. They didn’t say hello or that it was nice to meet me. They started to cry! They cried, and the first words out of their mouth were, “I’ve never seen myself in artwork before.” So, of course, I started to cry! So we were just crying across the table at each other. It was just one of the sweetest interactions, and it really sticks with me still to this day.

What is a recent creative project that you are proud of?

My latest collaboration with the artist Missupacey. We’ve been collaborating for two years now, and our last collaboration was for Midsummer Scream. It was two very cute clown girls, and I designed our T-shirt. It was one of the most fun projects we’ve done in a long time. We love doing collaborative work because it keeps working in the art industry fresh—being able to bounce ideas back and forth. So we do it where someone picks the color palette, and someone picks a theme. We’ll get references together, put them on a big board, and send each other sketches. It’s really nice to work with somebody else.

How has technology changed the way you approach your work?

Honestly, it changed everything. I mean, I used to draw for myself a lot. And while I still do that, I now predominantly draw for my Patrons. For a while, I was drawing for the internet. So I was drawing stuff people wanted to see in terms of plus-sized versions of characters—a plus-sized Poison Ivy or a plus-sized Sailor Moon. My Patrons have allowed me to start drawing for myself again. But technology, for a while, essentially dominated what direction I was taking with my art, so I’m grateful to take some of that power back.

If there is one thing that you want art enthusiasts to remember you by, what would it be?

Body positivity. I would love for them to remember that there is an artist making work that is making people feel good about themselves and about the way they look at themselves.

Top tips on setting up an Artist Alley booth?

Have a method of taking money, have a method of displaying your work, and have a way to take a break. I have a plastic picnic cover that costs like a dollar at any store. All I have to do is clip it to my display grates, and it covers up my entire display. I feel secure enough to take time for myself in a 10-hour workday to eat something, go to the restroom, or even take a moment to breathe and reorganize my inventory. So it’s so funny that this one-dollar piece of plastic is like the most life-saving item in my display of items.

Who on Tumblr inspires you and why?

@mayakern comes to mind. She is another body-positive artist who expanded into making body-positive clothing. She’s amazing, and just to see someone else out there promoting body positivity. Maya’s been doing it longer than I have, I believe. It feels good to know that I’m not alone. Her work is always stunning, and I love her body-positive DnD characters and the fact that she’s still plowing through the clothing industry. For example, she’s expanded from skirts to button-downs and even custom-wrap shirts. I love to see what she’s doing, and it inspires me to pursue different avenues with my own work.

Thank you so much for stopping by and sharing, Jiji! Be sure to check out their Tumblr blog over at @jijidraws.

[bucky-barnes-diaries]

Prompt || Reader and Bucky booking a hotel for a lazy romantic weekend, most of which they spend naked. Bucky decides that they feel too comfortable to want to get up and go out for food, so Reader decides to order out for them and get dressed enough to meet the delivery person at the door. While Reader is accepting the order, Bucky wraps up in a sheet and comes up behind them, smug as both Reader and the delivery person become flustered. — Requested by @weekendgothgirl

Pairing || Mob!Bucky x Wife!Reader

Word Count || Around 1300

Contents & Warnings || Fluff, Smut — 18+ Only, Minors DNI, mature content/language, implied nudity and sex.

Random prompt event || Masterlist

Paris—The City of Love. It had always been the obvious choice for a romantic honeymoon with your husband, Bucky. From the moment you arrived, you spent your days exploring the city’s wonders—taking walks along the Seine River, and visiting Notre Dame and the Arc de Triomphe. Bucky also indulged in your love for fashion by taking you on shopping trips in the high-end districts, splurging on all the most luxurious brands.

But it was the evenings that truly took your breath away. Bucky arranged private tours of the Louvre, allowing you to marvel at the beautiful artworks, such as the stunning Mona Lisa, in intimate privacy. And to end the night, you would have a romantic candlelit dinner with a breathtaking view of the Eiffel Tower as you indulged in delicious French cuisine.

As you were coming to the end of your picturesque honeymoon, you retreated to your hotel suite and spent the last few days in each other’s arms—naked. Exploring not just the city but each other's bodies and souls as well. You reveled in each other’s loving presence and touch—kissing, cuddling, and making passionate love. And when you weren’t lost in the burning passion, you engaged in deep, meaningful conversations that lasted for hours on end, expressing your intense love and commitment to each other.

As the sun began to peek through the curtains, illuminating the room with a soft golden glow, you stirred awake slowly in the embrace of your husband’s arms and the silky sheets. You snuggled further into his warmth, contenting a sigh as your mind filled with the previous night of sex—your body still lingered with pleasure. You inhaled his aroma, a mix of his cologne and natural musk. It filled you with comfort and safety, and you never wanted to leave the haven of the bed.

Bucky was already awake. Humming a soft melody as his fingers traced delicate patterns on your skin, sending shivers down your spine. You opened your eyes and met his gaze. His ones swam deep with love and adoration for his wife.

“Morning, ma chérie,” Bucky murmured, pressing a soft kiss to the back of your hand before trailing them up your arm.

You couldn’t help but giggle at the term of endearment, so fitting for the current circumstances. “Morning, James,” you replied.

He pulled you even closer. Your naked bodies pressed tightly together. His nose brushed with yours as a smile tugged on his lips. “So, what do you want to do today, my love? A walk? Shopping? A romantic boat ride down the river? Or, is there perhaps something else you have in mind?” A twinkle of desire shone in the depths of his blues as he uttered that last part.

You nibbled on your bottom lip as your fingers tangled behind his neck. Your lips brushed delicately with his as you spoke in a low, sultry voice. “Hmm, I have a plan. It involves you and me naked in this bed. And, that thing you did last night.”

“Is that so,” he hummed with an intriguing eyebrow.

Your lips met in a fiery kiss, each ragged breath mingling with the other as it deepened. The passion was intense as you clung to one another, lost in the moment. But just as the kiss reached its peak, there was a knock on the door, followed by a muffled voice announcing room service.

You both pulled away with a frustrated groan. You had completely forgotten that you’d ordered breakfast late in the night for the following day. Although your appetite was mostly for Bucky at the moment, you could really use some food in your system.

“I’ll go get it,” Bucky offered as he began to rise from the bed.

But you stopped him with your palm pressed against his chest, pushing him back onto the bed. “No, you stay here. For once, I want to come back and find you naked in bed,” you teased, winking at him. The smirk on his face let you know he wouldn’t protest at that.

He gave you a light tap on the ass as you got up and reached for his white button-down shirt on the floor. You put it on, and it covered the most intimate parts of your body but left little to the imagination.

As you walked out into the living room and then the wide entrance, you opened the suite door, and a man with two metal push trays stood on the other end. His eyes widened at the sight of your barely-covered form, but he quickly regained his professionalism.

“Room service, madame,” he spoke in a French accent.

“Thank you, please come in,” you responded and gestured with your hand for him to enter.

As he wheeled the trolleys into the vast living room, he tried his best to avert his gaze from your tempting body while arranging the plates, cutlery, and food on the dining table.

You were impatient for him to leave as you longed to return to the real feast that was waiting in the other room.

But before you could make a move, a pair of familiar arms wrapped around your waist from behind. You could feel Bucky’s toned physique and hardening cock against you through the silky fabric of his robe. His breath, warm against your neck, sent shivers down your spine, which were followed by a trail of fiery kisses across your skin that elicited a moan from you.

You melted into his embrace as your body hummed with need and desire. Bucky’s hands roamed over your curves, exploring every inch of your figure. You arched into his touch as his erotic whispers, and skilled fingers ignited sparks of passion through your nerves, making you moan and whimper softly.

The room service attendant cleared his throat, pulling you back into reality with a gasp. You flushed hot, embarrassed at being caught in such an intimate moment.

Bucky, on the other hand, was amused by the situation. His actions were deliberate in letting the man know who you belonged to.

“I think we should let him do his job, ma chérie.” Bucky chuckled against your ear as he spoke.

Reluctantly, you pulled away from Bucky, adjusting your shirt to a more appropriate state. The man remained professional, but the embarrassment in his eyes was evident as he stared at the two of you.

“Thank you,” you said, trying to keep your composure. “We’ll take it from here.”

The man nodded before quickly turning on his heels and making his way out of the suite, closing the door behind him.

You turned to a chuckling and amused Bucky as a mix of embarrassment and desire coursed through you.

“Oh god, that was so fucking awkward. Sorry about that,” you said, biting your lip, trying to hide the embarrassment from your face, but Bucky saw right through it, his eyes dark with desire.

“Don’t be, doll. I love it when you lose yourself in my touch. I love it when you can’t keep quiet for me,” he uttered with a grin.

You rolled your eyes, trying to suppress a smile. “Your fault. You started it.”

He pulled you close, his lips brushing against yours. “And I plan on finishing it,” he murmured, before capturing your lips in a needy kiss, leading you back to the silky bed for a second round of the thing he had done to you the previous night. The food could wait till later, after all.

Thank you for reading 🖤 Feedback through a comment is highly appreciated! Or let me know through an anonymous ask if that feels more comfortable. As well as a reblog to share my work with other people!

Follow @bucky-barnes-diaries-library and turn on notifications to never miss out on my writing!

[six-eyed-samurai]

MODERN DAY LOVER BOY

April Fools Day Special with the JJK Men in Alternate universes!

Tattoo artist! Geto Suguru who casually tells you he'll give you a free temporary tattoo for "today's promotion for pretty girls", but when you get home and peel off the bandage he's written his number there

Tattoo artist! Geto Suguru who, once you've made it official, makes you both matching couple tattoos - not necessarily a heart and your initials, but rather the logo of the cafe you guys had your first date at stylized to become the both of you

Tattoo artist! Geto Suguru whose customers ask him who the woman in his latest art selections are and it's you (he's not afraid to flex about it)

Tattoo artist! Geto Suguru who rarely had off days because that parlour was his life, but you breathed a new meaning to it and now he closes the store with the money he carefully stored over the months for a quick vacation with you

Tattoo artist! Geto Suguru who just has to look at all the photos or selfies or whatever it was that had caught your eye you constantly bombard his phone with to get inspiration for his next art. He's been called a king at what he does but you were a goddess of art itself.

***

Guitarist! Gojo Satoru who spots you in the crowd as he drums, a surprised look in your eyes and upon your once irritated face at how your best friend had dragged you here as he stuns you with his skills

Guitarist! Gojo Satoru who secretly hopes you would show up after the show for an autograph, who's over the moon when he discovers the person you're with has backstage passes, if only to meet his bandmate Geto

Guitarist! Gojo Satoru who adds in smaller writing his number to the poster you ask him to sign, and in fact gives you an autographed Polaroid of himself for free and with a sly smile while the rest of his fan girls groaned in jealousy

Guitarist! Gojo Satoru whose first date with you is to a karaoke and teaches you drums, showering you with whatever you want with his money - that premium gelato? Sure! VIP room? Why not! Nothing but the best for the true idol in his eyes.

Guitarist! Gojo Satoru who from then on always dedicates his songs to a "my pretty muse" that no one knows, except he always engages in eye contact with you

***

Piercer! Yuta Okkutsu who smoothly, kindly comforts you when you start having doubts about your piercings, assuring you it would only hurt for a moment and he'd never dare to cause suffering to such an angel

Piercer! Yuta Okkutsu who claims it's a free gift but hands you a box of heart shaped earrings with his number scribbled inside and a nervous ask out to coffee sometime

Piercer! Yuta Okkutsu who's now the reason you somehow ended up with two more piercings at the top of your ears, him hopefully suggesting you could match with him

Piercer! Yuta Okkutsu who can't stop blabbering about his beautiful girl to his other customers, leaving them forgetting about the uncomfortable stings and wondering who such a beauty would be

Piercer! Yuta Okkutsu who gifts you the engagement present in the form of custom designed earrings with both your initials in it, be decked wth your favourite colored gem

***

Graffiti artist! Inumaki Toge who, in his pining stage for you, started spaying a hell lot of red and hearts and Cupid's arrows into his artwork

Graffiti artist! Inumaki Toge who had no idea you were a fan of his work...and was extremely flustered to find out you discovered his not so secret crush on you when you saw the love song quotes spray painted under a painting of someone who looked suspiciously too similar to you

Graffiti artist! Inumaki Toge who helps you sneak out of your bedroom at night after throwing pebbles at your window and both of you run off on skateboards to colour the streets the same bright shades of your teenage love

Graffiti artist! Inumaki Toge who wasn't good at apologising after fights or misunderstandings, so he borrowed others' words to quote and paint somewhere he knew you'd see, with a bouquet of wildflowers left there if you did happen to actually see it in the flesh

Graffiti artist! Inumaki Toge whose biggest artwork was not the bridge he had covered with slogans last month but in fact, the gigantic canvas of you and him racing into the night with streaks of spray paint exploding behind you

***

Ghost Hunter! Yuuji Itadori, the self acclaimed "Myth Buster", who went around to various most haunted places in his hometown to explore and prove that in fact, ghosts DO NOT EXIST, which he kept trying to convince you, his skeptical one-man camera crew, of, although your ongoing bet was that if he could you'd give him a kiss

Ghost Hunter! Yuuji Itadori who was often requested to do rituals or demon summons to provide evidence for his theories that "ghosts" were just people's imaginations being sparked up by even the most mundane of things by fear, but one of the reasons he really refused was because he didn't want anyone else butting on you and his time - besides, ain't no way was he using you as a sacrifice

Ghost Hunter! Yuuji Itadori who finally works up the courage to confess that he wanted to take this friendship to higher levels ironically on Halloween...even more ironically after he grabbed your hand and dragged you out of the haunted house screaming.

Ghost Hunter! Yuuji Itadori who declared himself your lucky charm against the supernatural and promises that he'll protect you from whatever came from beyond the grave (he didn't believe it ghosts but sure did in protecting you) and used the excuse to stay over at your house at night

Ghost Hunter! Yuuji Itadori who tells you in the spookiest way possible to meet him at the latest haunted expedition, but when you get there it's all set up with fairy lights, a movie and a picnic to celebrate your one year anniversary as a couple

[caeqey]

‎♡‧₊˚࿐ the little things — 엔하이픈 thoughts

or — things my suitor does, that i think en- members would do too

#wc 1k+ pairing ⟢ highschool bf!en- members x gn!reader ⸝⸝ genre : fluffㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ , angst if you squint warnings .ᐟ mentions an argument, food/ed (reader forces themself to not eat)

이희승 : messages you after every round

early in your relationship with heeseung, you quickly caught onto the fact that he loves gaming. you didn't mind it of course, it was nice that he had his own thing. it only became a problem when it started feeling like he cared more about his games than he did you. not wanting to assume the worst, you decided to talked to him about it. heeseung was honestly upset, not because he thought you were being selfish, but because his actions made you feel that way. since then, he loves to text you in between rounds, updating you about the silliest things like —

“baby look! i ranked up 😁” , “I GOT BATTLE ROYALE BABY YIPEE” and often, you'd see notifications like “sorry baby, i was in game. can you play with me next time, please?”

박종성 : brings you food for lunch

jay was aware that you had a bad habit of not eating your food. often times, you'd give your lunch to your friends. it hurt him, seeing you not eat, forcing yourself not to. he took note of your behaviour and then had the bright idea that he should make you your lunch. he never forced you to eat his cooking though, but he did encourage you. as time passed, you grew a healthier relationship with not only food, but with jay as well. the delicious meals he made daily were truly the highlight of your day. every now and then, he also likes to slip in notes that say —

“eat well, you deserve it dear :)” . “i know this is your fav, so i hope i did it justice ( ._. )” , “ sorry if it tastes burnt, making tanghulu is harder than it seems :(“

심재윤 : asks you to go to his games

volleyball season has finally arrived at your school, and that meant only one thing for you. watching your dear boyfriend's games on the daily. being the libero of the senior volleyball team was not a light task, but jake seemed to enjoy it nonetheless. whether it was a regular game or a tournament, he would always ask you to go. you didn't really have much of a choice though, since you are part of the school's photography club. this meant that attending games was mandatory for you. but, mandated or not, you wouldn't dare miss any of his games. it's delightful to see jake in his element, it's as if his aura changes the moment he's on the court. but of course, your boyfriend being the guy he is, jake always reminds you to —

“take pictures of me please !” , “cmonn you're a photographer, you have to take pictures of me” with a pout. however he seems to always say “WOAH THESE LOOK SO GOOD!!! i knew you were amazing sweetheart” in the end.

박성훈 : likes to watch you make art

as one of the school's most prominent artists, you are very well known for the art that you create. sometimes you art would be submitted in national competitions and you'd often get complimented on your skills during your school's art shows. and sunghoon is no different from those who admired your art. in fact, your boyfriend is "your number #1 fan" (as he likes to put it). he loves to go to your house, just sitting there and watching you work with the medium you chose. one day, you asked him why he loves to watch you every time to made art. he thought about what to say for a moment before stating —

“well, i find it odd how you're constantly told that your artwork is stunning, but you're never told that it looks even better as you're working on it. it's like you're an extension of the piece, my darling, you're abeautiful work of art as well.” tearing up at his words, you engulfed him in a tight hug.

김선우 : sends you pictures of the sunset/sunrise

your boyfriend knows how fond you are of the sunset and sunrise. even before you had gotten together, you two would always stay up all night to watch it rise when morning came. ironically, the day (or night ?) you two had gotten together, was when you were once again waiting for dawn. so, whenever sunoo had the chance to, he would always try to send pictures of the lovely sun rising and setting. it became your thing, something only you two did with each other. those pictures would often come with texts like —

“goodmorning honey! isn’t the sunset so pretty?” , “i was out walking and noticed the sun was setting hehe”, “hiii are you uppp? look what i saw :)”

양정원 - loves to build legos with you

both you and jungwon have always been interested in legos, and there was no exception to that.even when you two go to the mall. often entering the lego store to browse for any sets that you liked. so it did not come to you as a surprise when your lovely boyfriend gifted you a set of lego roses for your birthday. he knows how much you’ve wanted to build these types of things with him, it was practically the best gift he could’ve ever thought of! now sitting across from each each other, crossed legged and giggling. things were going as planned until —

“love it’s the other way around!” you exclaimed, “wait, huh ???” despite his experience in lego set building, flowers were not his thing. “the petal, i mean. it’s upside” you chuckled. the night of your birthday went on smoothly as you two continued creating the plastic flower arrangement.

西村 力 — is the miles to your gwen

riki is actually the reason why you had taken an interest in the famous spider hero. he would often talk about the movies and the comics with you, which interested you the more he talked about it. you adored it when he geeked out about his interests, it was the side of him that no one really saw. soon, you were just as addicted as he was. and when the across the spiderverse movie had come out, you two did not miss the opportunity to watch it together. by the time his birthday rolled in, you thought about the perfect birthday present. matching bracelets that were impressed by miles and gwen. you were undeniably anxious though, even spending all night pondering about how he’d feel about the gift. but upon opening your gift he said —

“woah!! it's so cool, thank you!!” riki smiled, genuinely. “wait, hey, are you alright?” he asked, sensing your anxiousness. “i’m glad you like it. and uhm, i know that miles and gwen don't exactly end up on good terms by the end of the movie… but don't worry riks. we're gonna do our own thing”

note ᝰ.ᐟ please tell me someone got the atsv reference in riki's part (ᗒᗣᗕ)՞ anyways i hope you guys enjoyed this !! please leave feedback, it would really help me out :)

[novaandmali]

ARTISTS WANTED! 

We’re making a new book filled with pulpy sci-fi illustrations based on classic artworks (pre-1800), and, as always, LGBT and POC inclusive <3

Applications open March 25th at noon - the application will NOT be available before that time and will be removed after apps close. HUGE shout out to @ Nukeillustrate for this absolutely stunning piece, lovingly borrowed from “And They Were Monsters.”

The application will NOT be available until that date - we will post it here, instagram (nova_mali), bluesky, and tumblr (novaandmali). The application will be open for five days (March 29th) or until we hit 1000 applications. Please be sure to set an alarm and get your application in ASAP - we will not be able to take any applications through email, dms, or after they close.

A tentative schedule:

Results emailed by April 3rd - everyone will get an email! Sketch due May 15 Final work due June 15 Kickstarter runs July 1-31

We are looking for 50-60 artists (who MUST be 18+ years old by April 3) to join us to create a piece of digital art and/or merch. Traditional art is also accepted if scanned/photographed at a professional level.

We're looking specifically to increase the diversity of our artists, both in regards to race and gender - we want to be including all kinds of voices. Same thing with our art - we're looking to increase the variety of cultures, body types, and disabilities represented.

This is a PAID job. We’ve paid in the range of 200-300 for similar projects in the past, based on a set contract amount plus anything left over after production and shipping, split between everyone. Example: $150 in the contract and $100 extra per artist share. The additional amount will depend on how successful the Kickstarter campaign is.

I’ll post more later this week but first and foremost, get ready to go looking for interesting classical art to re-do into pulpy sci-fi! Your app will ask you what you’re thinking about creating. This is not a final answer but we want to know what vibe, what era, etc what you’re thinking about. 

We’re asking for art pieces that are pre-1800. I want you to really get digging and find some epic cool old stuff, particularly from more women artists and artists of color. Non-Western art is very very much included in our scope of work - we can’t wait to see your ideas!

I know older art tends to have weird people or weird perspectives - that doesn't need to translate to your final art. Just get funky with where you're finding inspiration! We will discuss this in more detail once we’ve hired everyone.

We really want to play with the idea of taking something very very old and make it very very futuristic - it should be funky and fun, and of course full of delightfully gay art <3

I’ll post exactly what questions the app will entail later this week.

The application will include things like: a link to your portfolio (instagram and twitter are NOT accepted as a portfolio) and an idea of what art pieces you’re thinking about and how to transform them.

We also ask for a short artist bio, like twitter style - short and sweet. Please don’t talk down about yourself or your skills - talk yourself up! Make me excited to see your art!!

About us: we’re two non-binary lesbians who really love cats and gay art. We’ve enjoyed our work as a queer publishing house and can’t wait to do more! Some of our previous works include classics but make it gay, And They Were Monsters, and Cover Me Queer.

Check out our work at www.novaandmali.com . 

[cooketimm]

Hardboiled #10-25 (1990-98) cover artwork by Bruce Timm

Interview from Cool Stuff Magazine #1 (1995):

Gary Lovisi: Much of your work is characterized by raw, intense energy and action, or beautiful women in stylish, dangerous settings. Some is obviously influenced by the pulps.

Bruce Timm: I’m big pulp fan, have been since the early 70s, when I started reading Doc Savage and Avenger reprints. I can’t really say how they’ve influenced my artwork much, except when doing pulp-homage stuff like the Bob Price books. But I do sometimes wish I was born decades earlier so I could have worked for some of the old pulps, which was why it was so much fun doing the Price stuff, and the «mock 50s» paperback covers for your Gryphon Books.

The hero pulps — Doc Savage, The Spider, The Shadow, etc — did have a big impact on my approach to the Batman cartoons. It’s something I tried to inject into the show from early on, the atmosphere, danger and illicit excitement, and especially that Norvell Page-type feeling of impending doom — the «doomed city» mood. It’s also why I set the sense in a timeless, 40s-styled world of big cars, padded shoulders, gangsters, shadowy streets, etc. I only wish we’d gone farther with it.  

For instance, my original version of Batman himself was actually close to the Shadow: rarely seen close-up, speaking in short, clipped phrases, more mysterious, literally. I wanted to play him cold and remote, almost unhuman. But the network and our various story editors would have none of that!  «We need to humanize him», «He needs to have a sense of humor», «We need to more about Bruce Wayne, the person», etc! Whereas I could care less about Bruce Wayne! He’s much more fascinating if you don’t know what he’s thinking, or what drives him.

A few «Shadowy» touches did survive. Batman is rarely seen be the public, almost never on TV. Even when dealing with the police, he’s usually off in shadows conferring with Commissioner Gordon only. And when he’s in the Batcave, he’s almost always in costume. My way of saying he’s Batman, not the other guy, not Bruce Wayne. Like Lamon Cranston, his true, «legal» identity is a facade.

I’ d love to do straight-ahead pulp hero adaptation someday. Doc or The Shadow or The Spider, either in comics or animation, without the senseless updating and over-explaining «character development» like in the Alec Baldwin-Shadow-fiasco-film.  

Gary Lovisi: Your stunning covers for my Hardboiled mag are very popular with everyone who sees them. What are your feelings on hardboiled crime-related art?

Bruce Timm: It’s hard, actually, to define «crime-fiction» art. There’s pulp crime-fiction art, and digest crime-fiction art, both of which cross over with paperback crime-fiction art. Basically, I’m a fan of good illustration. Period. Regardless of subject matter. Composition, emotionally intensity, color and lighting effects are what I look for. And pretty girls, of course!   

My favorite pulp crime artist is H. J. Ward, hands down. Gorgeous gals in twisty curvy poses, painted in luscious, creamy, wet-on-wet oil technique. My favorite paperback artists include Robert McGinnis, Robert Maguire, and Mitchell Hooks, the usual suspects.

My approach to the Hardboiled covers is different from my earlier «homage» work. When the covers were black and white, I used to experiment with different b&w textures, coquille board, zip-a-tone, xeroxed newsprint, whatever worked. Now that I’m doing them in color, I’m trying to make them as exciting and eye-catching as possible, with loud color, sexy gals, exaggerated action, and simple, graphic, almost cartoony styling.

[ken-dom]

Lavender

Ken x gn!reader

Artwork by the wonderful @dranna

Request from @dranna: Hii , I saw your requests are open, so may I request a Ken and reader fluff ? Basically the idea is that Ken burst into the kitchen so excitedly, because he learned something new. Reader accidentally breaks a mug due to this and speak to him a little frustrated. He leaves the room and hours later reader finds him sobbing, thinking they will leave him, and he is not good enough.After this it’s basically fluff fluff fluff :’) I love this guy’s Kenergy

Author’s notes: Thank you for the gorgeous request darling! I had fun with this one, although I changed it a little as I didn’t have the heart to leave him crying for too long 😅 hope it's fluffy enough 🩷 (please note I temporarily closed requests after this was sent in, but my ask box is always open)

Warnings/content: 1.4k words, angst, fluff, crying, comfort, kissing, hinted praise kink, gn!reader

‘Do you have lavender?!’

‘Ken, what-’

As you turned to face him, Ken was already too close and barrelled into you, unable to stop in time.

The two mugs you were holding crashed to the floor, sending shards of porcelain skidding over the tiles and the contents splattering over your feet, staining your socks with thick chocolate, sticky cream and lumps of half melted marshmallow.

It almost happened in slow motion; both of you stood frozen to the spot in stunned silence and Ken wincing and holding his breath as he watched the porcelain shatter.

‘Oh… my favourite mug,’ you sighed quietly, more to yourself than to him.

But he heard disappointment in your tone, and released his breath with an almost garbled string of apologies.

‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry, here, let me-’

He dropped to the floor, hastily trying to remove your wet, chocolate coated socks.

‘Ken, you don’t have to-’ you started, not wanting him to worry about it too much or hurt himself on a sharp piece of porcelain.

‘Ken, really-’ you tried again, to no avail.

You knew he struggled to navigate everyday situations like this, and that he meant well, but having him pull at your uncomfortably sticky clothes while your last helping of hot chocolate was spilled on the floor and your favourite mug was destroyed was really not helping.

‘Ken!’ you snapped, immediately regretting your tone. You took a slow, deep breath, continuing quietly. ‘Look, it would be easier if you just… got out of the way.’

He paused then, looking up at you with the saddest eyes you thought you’d ever seen. Your heart sank in your chest. 

‘Oh, Ken… I didn’t mean-’

As you reached down to help him up, he shot up from the floor without taking your hand and fled the kitchen with an arm thrown over his face, the tassels of his shirt swaying dramatically as he ran.

Of course, he had no idea where to go without you, so he only ran upstairs — the furthest point from you that would keep you within reach. The furthest point from where he’d ruined everything.

You could hear his loud sobs echoing down the stairs as you collected the shards of porcelain from the floor, swept up, mopped, and finally bundled your sticky socks into the washing machine.

By the time you were done, his sobbing was quieter, more like whimpers now.

Chastising yourself for being too harsh, you made your way upstairs to find him face down on your bed, crying into your pillow.

You sat carefully on the mattress beside him and began lightly stroking his back.

‘Ken, baby?’

‘I-I know- I r-ruined- everything!’ he cried, muffled by the pillow.

Each sobbed word broke your heart a little more.

‘Come here.’

Ken slowly pushed himself up, ready for the inevitable. You’d already told him it would be easier if he was out of the way. Surely it was only a matter of time until you wanted rid of him completely, and then what would he do? Where would he go? A discarded, unwanted Ken doll left to fend for himself in the Real World where he couldn’t even get a job as a simple doctor with a clicky pen. Pathetic.

His wet eyes met yours with uncertainty, but they sparkled when you held your arms out to invite him closer. Perhaps there was hope after all.

‘You haven’t ruined a thing, Ken. Well, except for my favourite mug. But it’s replaceable, and I suppose I can forgive you. If I must,’ you joked, feeling him tremble against you.

‘You… you mean I’m not… bad? You… still want me around?’

You chuckled softly into his soft, mussed hair and squeezed him in your arms. You couldn’t see it, but your tight embrace caused a smile to flicker briefly over his lips. 

‘Look at me.’

He pulled back, still in your arms, eyes wide and wet with tears that he wiped away with the sleeve of his cowboy shirt.

‘You’re good, Ken.’

He blinked his gaze away, blushing, and you made a mental note for a later date; Likes praise. Got it.

‘It was just an accident. These things happen here in the Real World – everything can’t be perfect all the time. Even you! And that’s ok. You’re doing so well here, and as much as I appreciate your support, just remember that I can handle it when little things go wrong. Alright?’

Ken nodded, his brow furrowing as he thought about what you’d said. Maybe he had been a little too eager. He just wanted to put things right but he had no idea how.

‘I’m sorry it was all so overwhelming. I didn’t mean to make you cry.’

‘Oh, no, it wasn’t you. I just… I try so hard to get everything right and most of the time I only make things worse.’ There was a hitch in his breath, as though saying it out loud was a relief and a realisation all at once.

‘You don’t need to get everything right. You make my day so much brighter! I never want to be without you, Ken.’

‘Really?’

You’d never seen such excitement in his eyes, even when he discovered that the ridiculous mink coat he loves so much had a horse pattern inlay.

‘Really.’

You spent what felt like an eternity just smiling at one another then, feeling your connection grow and strengthen. It’s probably the Kenergy, you thought, biting your lip to keep from laughing and spoiling the moment. Then you had another thought.

‘That was my last hot chocolate, but…’ 

You rummaged in your pocket until you found the little packet you’d stashed there on your way upstairs.

‘Open your mouth,’ you whispered, gently cupping his jaw in your palm and tracing your thumb over his bottom lip.

It was so wonderful how he leant into your touch and his mouth fell open so easily at your request, without question or hesitation. All he wanted was to please you and to feel your affection. It made your heart race.

‘Good Ken,’ you smiled, watching his cheeks flush again at your simple words.

With your free hand you popped a marshmallow between his lips and he laughed around it, smiling as he sucked the sweet and your thumb moved to wipe his tear stained cheeks.

‘I just don’t want to disappoint you,’ he breathed when he swallowed the last of his fluffy treat. ‘I’m trying.’

‘You never disappoint me, Ken. You surprise me every day.’

It felt natural when he leant into you, closing his eyes.

For the first time in his life, lips actually met his, soft and tingly and a little bit damp. He wasn’t sure what he expected it to feel like, but it was absolute bliss.

Warmth spread through his body, butterflies exploded in his stomach, and he melted for a moment, unable to move at how wonderful it all felt, until he was overcome with a burst of passion and his long manicured fingers wrapped around your arms and slid up into your hair. And he moaned. He actually moaned.

Wait until I show you how to use tongue, you thought with a smirk.

‘Wow,’ he uttered breathlessly as he dropped back, eyes fluttering open to smirk at you. It wasn’t smug though. It was proud and incredulous and filled with awe.

‘You liked that?’ you smiled. 

‘Liked it? I loved it!’

‘Me too.’

Ken’s chest swelled with satisfaction.

You reached for his hand to interlock your fingers with his and he squeezed, gasping joyfully as he stared at where your hands connected, as though it might cause some sort of magic. You half expected sparkles to erupt midair.

‘Hey, Ken, can I ask you something?’

‘Anything,’ he said dreamily, completely lost in the moment.

‘Why did you ask me for lavender earlier?’

His face lit up. ‘It says in my book that horses can find lavender calming, and I wanted to see what it smells like for myself, because apparently humans find it calming too? And since horses have an almost three hundred and sixty degree field of vision and sleep standing up…’

You ended up laid with your head on Ken’s chest as he excitedly told you every piece of information he had memorised about his beloved horses. You listened to him talk until he wore himself out.

You pulled a blanket up over both of you as he yawned.

‘I was wrong, Ken,’ you mused.

‘About what?’ he mumbled sleepily.

‘You are actually perfect.’

‘Thank you,’ he whispered, ‘and you are sublime.’ He kissed the top of your head gently before he fell asleep.

[ohgodnotagainn]

girl in a coffee shop

summary → 4 times bob recommended a drink + 1 time he recommended something else.

warnings → swearing, allusions to sex, probably some typos in there, coffee shop au, everyone is like 28ish in this

length → 5.1K

pairing → robert "bob" floyd x fem reader

a/n → this is SO self indulgent, but it's turned into my favorite fic i've written thus far. i hope you all love it as much as i do. i love, adore, and appreciate feedback, but as always, be nice or be gone. if you would like to be added or removed from the taglist let me know.

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“You’d be the pretty girl in a coffee shop, sweet as candy lemon drops, with your favorite pair of Birkenstocks - that’d be you.”

You found Top Brews completely by accident - your apartment was proving to be too distracting to finish editing your last shoot and so, in a fit of frustration, you googled the closest cafe with free internet. Five minutes later, you were pulling into the parking lot with your laptop and a dream. 

The shop was rather quaint - local artwork lined the walls and a variety of couches, armchairs, and tables littered the dark wooden floors. The place was alive with people slaving away on laptops, first dates, and old friends catching up over steaming lattes. You could tell these four walls harbored a community, and you wondered how you had missed it all this time. 

Walking up to the bar you realized that the eclectic vibes weren’t what made this little shop special, it was the staff. A stunning brunette greeted you with a warm smile, and behind her you could see a blonde and a mustached man arguing over the ‘right’ way to do the dishes. 

“Hey there! I haven’t seen you around here before - my name is Nat but you can call me Phoenix. I know the menu is a bit overwhelming, so if you have any questions don’t be afraid to ask!” 

You weren’t sure how she could tell that you were overwhelmed, but you could guess it wasn’t uncommon for how extensive the chalkboard menu was. There were so many drink options you weren’t entirely sure where to start and you hadn’t thought much about what you would want in the short time it took you to slip on a pair of Birkenstocks and make the trek here. 

“This is my first time in, do you have any recommendations?”

The smile on her face grew wider as she smacked the shoulder of a slender man with glasses hidden behind the espresso machine.

“Ahh, if you want recommendations then Bob here is your man. He’s yet to steer someone wrong and makes the best concoctions you’ll ever taste.”

Bob, as Phoenix called him, seemed startled when he looked up from the pitcher he was steaming. Your heart skipped a beat when your eyes met his gentle ones, and you were intrigued by his calm demeanor despite all the hustle and bustle around him. 

“Well then, Bob was it? I guess I’ll trust your reputation - surprise me, I’m not picky.”

You were finishing up paying when you heard Bob curse loudly, “Shit!” You glanced over just in time to see hot milk pouring over the edges of the metal pitcher onto his hands as he frantically turned off the steam wand. His neck and cheeks were painted red, no doubt embarrassed by what happened. 

Words tumbled out of his mouth while he made quick work of wiping down the bar with a wet rag. “I - uh - I promise I know how to do my job, I just get so in the zone sometimes and I got distracted and Rooster is back there squawking so loud I can’t hear myself think and -”

His words and motions came to a halt as he heard you giggling, and though it may have been at his expense, he would do anything to hear it every day. 

You tried to keep a straight face, but you were still in a fit of giggles as you said, “You guys keep a Rooster back there? I’m not sure the health department would appreciate that very much.” 

At your words, the mustached man from the great dish debate whipped around with a hand to his chest and pretend indignation written on his face. “Excuse you! I’ll have you know that inspector Sharon loves me and my keen sense for knowing what needs to be clean and what needs to be dirty.” 

Everyone behind the bar groaned in annoyance as Phoenix pushed him back towards the sink, “You’ve lost your privilege of talking you absolute buffoon, go back to the dishpit and reflect on your life choices,” she looked at the clock, then turned back to you and whispered, “Believe it or not, that’s the longest he’s made it without losing his talking privileges all week.”

“But it’s only 9:30?” you questioned.

A cup of mystery appeared in front of you as Bob cut in with a playful grin, “Yeah, he’s making some big strides. Yesterday he only got to 7:05. We open at 7:00.”

You met his eyes and shook your head laughing. “Sounds like you may have been better off with an actual rooster.” You lifted the cup, eyes widening as soon as the hot beverage hit your tongue. “Holy shit, Bob.”

His eyes widened to match yours as he started to reach for the cup, “Fuck do you not like it? I’m so sorry, I can make you something else -”

“Oh, no!” You were vehemently shaking your head, “I didn’t mean it like that,” You pulled the cup out of his reach, “This is just the best coffee I’ve ever had - where have you been all my life? You have to clue me in to what you made so I can order if you aren’t here.”

His heart was fluttering at your kind remarks and the idea of you coming in here more, but he tamped down the feeling. “It’s, uh, it’s a honey vanilla latte with cinnamon steamed into the oat milk.” With rosey cheeks he looked down at the rag in his hands and continued, “It’s actually my personal favorite.”

“Well, Bob, it might just be my new personal favorite too.” You slipped a $5 bill out of your laptop case and into the tip jar. You looked back at him and raised your cup with a wink, “Thanks again!” 

Bob was stunned into silence and couldn’t help but watch you as you made yourself at home in a big armchair by the fireplace. Where had you been all of his life?

Phoenix once again startled him when she cleared her throat - he was so wrapped up in thoughts of you he forgot she was there. “Dude, what was that? I can’t even remember the last time you burned a pitcher of milk.”

Hangman joined in from the sinks, “Yeah, man, I didn’t think you were even capable of messing up - you must be down bad.”

He groaned at their prodding, “Fuck off, Jake, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He did know what Jake was talking about, but he wouldn’t admit that to the blonde - if his ego got any bigger they’d have to expand into the space next door to fit it all.

Instead, he let your words play on a loop in his head and snuck peaks at you cuddled in that armchair every chance he could. 

He hoped and prayed to every God he could think of.

Please make her a regular.

“I wonder what it’s like to be in love by you, I wondered if I’d ever be in love for you. All these doubts in my head keep me from finding you.”

You couldn’t help yourself. You had to go back to there. You told yourself it was because the coffee had ruined other places for you, but you knew it was Bob. You had stayed in the shop for hours, somehow managing to get a substantial amount of work done between sneaking glances over your screen at the man who rocked glasses better than anyone you’d ever met. Would going back the very next day be weird? Maybe it was, but you didn’t care as you packed up your laptop and laced up your shoes. 

The short journey felt like ages as your heart sped up with your wandering mind. Bob ran rampant through your brain and you found yourself unwilling to even try to stop - stuck on thoughts of him in your kitchen, crafting drinks on your Breville in the morning after a long night together. 

You shouldn’t be thinking of someone you met once in this way. You didn’t even know if he had a partner already! You groaned and let your head hit the wheel - you had to get over it.

If you embarrassed yourself there was no way you could find another comparable shop - the coffee was simply too good and the internet too fast. Why go through all that when you were almost certain he wasn’t interested in you anyways?

Shaking the thoughts from your head, you gathered every ounce of courage in your body and went inside. You could do this. 

Bob had spent his morning in a similar fashion, plagued by thoughts of you. He woke up thirty minutes earlier than usual, allowing himself extra time to get ready just in case you happened to come back.

Each time the little bell above the door rang he couldn’t help but check to see if it was you - and his heart sank a little deeper each time it wasn’t. What if you hated the coffee he made you yesterday and that’s why you didn’t come back? What would he say if you did come in the door? Would you give it to him if he asked for your number? 

Who was he kidding? Even if you were single, he didn’t stand a chance when Rooster, Coyote, Hangman, and Phoenix were there.

Ding, ding.

He didn’t bother looking up this time. 

“Bob! Hi!”

He had to be hearing things, had he officially gone crazy?

But sure enough, when he looked up he was met with your smiling face. Oh no. He had been thinking about you coming in all morning, but he wasn’t prepared for it to actually happen.. 

Say something, say something, say something..

“Oh, uh, hey!” Smooth, Bob. He hoped you didn’t see him cringe as soon as the words left his mouth. “Back again already?” Your smile faltered a bit at his words, and he caught his mistake immediately. “Not that I don’t want to see you again, because I do! I was hoping you’d come back, actually. I mean, not in a creepy way, of course.” He could feel himself rambling again, he had to bring this back before he really scared you off. “I’m sorry, let me try that again. Were you wanting the same coffee or do you want to try something new today?”

Now you were smiling wider than before - his rambling was endearing and your heart was nearly bursting at the fact that he was hoping you’d come in again. 

“Well, I was going to get the same thing, but now that you mention it - I think I want to try something new. Got another ace up your sleeve?”

He couldn’t believe you were trusting him blind again. 

A smile now graced his face too, “I think I’ve got one or two left.”

With an iced raspberry white mocha in hand and butterflies loose in your stomach, you set up camp in the same chair you had the day before. 

Back up at the counter, Jake saddled up next to Bob. 

“Two words - Down. Bad.”

“The glasses that you hardly wear .. and makeup, no you don’t really care"

Top Brews had all but become your office - now a permanent part of your daily routine. It had been two weeks since you first found the place but you couldn’t imagine life without it - the drinks were always stellar, you were friends with everyone on staff, and you were getting through work more efficiently than you ever had. 

You really only had one problem with it - Bob. You suspected that if he was available and interested he would’ve made a move by now, but you couldn’t stop your growing feelings for the quiet barista and the little hearts he always poured on the tops of your lattes. 

He made your mornings a little sweeter - often chatting with you over the red espresso machine while he whipped up your drink of the day. You rarely saw him do this with anybody else, usually too in the zone to make small talk, and you couldn’t help but feel special. He was never in too much of a rush to talk to you, and nobody else had ever made you feel so important before.

Through your chats you learned that he owned the place with Natasha, and overtime they somehow roped all of their friends from college into working there with them. Coyote overheard this and appeared out of thin air to inform you that it took major begging to get him to quit his office job and join the staff.

Bob informed you that it really only took a six pack of Dos Equis and the promise of priority aux privileges. (Coyote took a lot of pride in this, spending hours on Spotify crafting playlists for every occasion).

You also learned that, no, their parents don’t hate them, they just liked having their nicknames adorning their tags. They wanted those who came to know they were part of the squad, that they considered every single person who came through those doors a friend - regardless if they came in once or every day. 

You looked forward to these chats more than you’d like to admit.

This particular morning you were not doing well. You had woken up on the wrong side of the bed, things going awry left and right. Your phone hadn’t been fully plugged in and you woke up late. You got a scathing email from an unhappy client, who demanded they get their non-refundable deposit back from the shoot they didn’t show up to. Another client didn’t make any indication whether they liked their gallery or not, leaving you even more insecure. You ripped your last pair of contacts and had to opt for glasses - that were four years old and out of prescription - instead. To top it off, you were missing one of your most important SD cards. 

If you weren’t so superstitious, you would say that things couldn’t get any worse.

For once you were hoping to not see Bob. You didn’t feel like yourself and you were feeling rather self conscious about your appearance. 

Like everything else that morning, you weren’t so lucky. You saw him the second you entered the building and scurried to your armchair instead of the counter to order like normal. You would have to set up camp first and get your coffee once he went to the bathroom or went on break.

Twenty minutes into working and you were left more frustrated than before. Lightroom was crashing on you every five photos, you were developing a migraine from the lack of caffeine, and Bob still had not moved from his place behind the bar. You could feel his eyes on you every so often and you knew he was probably figuring out how to nicely kick you out.

You were loitering after all. 

Suddenly you felt a presence in front of you and you looked up to see Phoenix smiling down at you. 

Here it comes. 

Without a word, she produced a glass from behind her back and placed it on the little table next to you.

“You must have the wrong person, this can’t be for me - I haven’t ordered yet.” You told her, sheepishly pushing the glass away. 

“No, I’m certain this is for you,” she nodded her head in Bob’s direction, who was currently looking anywhere but at you, “Something about how he could tell you’re having a bad day and could use a pick me up. He’s insisting it be on the house and instructed all of us to refuse letting you pay, so, don’t even try. Also, you cannot tell him I told you this, but he won’t shut up about how much he likes your glasses. I think you could get away with never paying here again if you wore those everyday.”

You were shocked, your mouth agape and unable to form words. 

“Oh! I was also sent on operation pick-me-up to give you this,” she fished your SD card out of her apron pocket and handed it to you, “We found it sweeping yesterday and couldn’t tell if it was yours or not. Bob kept it in his wallet for safe keeping until we saw you today, just in case.”

You flipped the little disc around in your fingers - completely shellshocked now.

“I uh, I don’t even know what to say other than thank you, seriously. Are you sure I can’t pay? I feel bad and it’s really no trouble at all,” you said as you fished around in your laptop case for some cash. 

Shaking her head, she started to walk away from you, yelling over her shoulder, “Don’t even try!”

You could feel your migraine dissipating as you sipped on the lavender cold brew topped with a sweet cold foam. 

Bob had saved your entire day. 

You slipped a $20 bill in the tip jar when no one was looking. 

“Oh, I, could only hope that you would feel it too - if we locked eyes right here in this crowded room for just one second it’d just be us two”

A month had passed since your first visit and the tattered blue armchair by the fireplace was now your spot. Sure, it wasn’t written anywhere, but you were there for hours everyday like clockwork. It was common knowledge and the other regulars respected it as your territory, sometimes even going as far as leaving a jacket in place to make sure it was vacant upon your arrival.

You always sat there because it was the comfiest chair, you liked the warmth that came from the fireplace, and the internet connection in that specific part of the cafe was the strongest. You definitely didn’t always sit there because you had a stellar - and discreet - view of the bar.

Okay, maybe you did. 

But if you couldn’t actually be with Bob, there was no harm in looking, right? How could you resist a few peaks here and there when his hands looked that good moving expertly around the bar?

Yeah, that was going with you to the grave. 

It had been a busy morning and there was not an empty chair or table in sight. The crowd was overtaking your space and you could tell, even through your headphones, how loud it was getting. Even the internet was struggling to keep up with the traffic. 

The most recent batch of photos was in the process of exporting and with how slow it was moving, you knew it was going to be a while.

You didn’t mind much. You could allow yourself generous looks at Bob without worrying so much about being caught - everyone behind the bar too preoccupied with the rush at hand to notice - and there was no guilt around being distracted from your own workload.

Without warning, Bob’s eyes snapped up and met your gaze.

Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. 

You had been caught red-handed, but your eyes stayed locked on his and you nodded at the freshy vacated chair next to yours in a silent invitation. The only way out of the embarrassment now was through, you had to pretend this was the plan all along.

Bob wanted nothing more than to join you in your corner, but there was a hoard of tickets still waiting to be made and Jake was scheduled to take his break first. With an exaggerated look of  disappointment on his face he held up a cup in one hand and a pitcher in the other, shrugging his shoulders as a way to politely decline your invitation. 

You nodded in understanding, but he didn’t miss the dejected look in your eyes as they dropped back to the laptop screen. 

God damnit. He was grateful that his business was flourishing, but he finally had a chance and he was barred from taking it. 

Unbeknownst to him, Rooster had seen the entire exchange. 

“Hey man, I got bar so you can take your break,” he stated, leaving little room for argument.

“Oh, uh, I actually think Hangman is supposed to break first today,” Bob responded, eyes downcast and sadness laced in his tone.

Jake was quick to interject, “Yeah! I’m starving and I opened so if anyone is going on break its -” 

He was cut off by Bradley’s elbow making sharp contact with his gut.

“Nope! It’s Bob. Here’s a slice of banana bread big enough for two, do with it what you will.” Bradley winked, shoving a plate in Bob’s hands and shooing him away from the counter

Hangman grumbled, still doubled over and cradling his stomach, “We really need an HR department.”

Bob ignored him as he untied his apron and grabbed two forks, making his way over to the fireplace before he could talk himself out of it. 

You thought nothing of it when you felt a presence in the chair beside you - it had been occupied for almost the entire morning - but you were confused when a plastic fork suddenly appeared in front of your eyes.

“Not sure if I can finish this piece of banana bread on my own, interested in sharing?” Bob asked you with a blush on his cheeks. 

You grabbed the fork out his hand and clinked it against his, “I would love nothing more.” You took a big bite and your eyes got large, “I need this recipe, I need it more than I’ve needed anything else in the history of needing things.”

Bob let out a chuckle, “I wish I could give it to you, but unfortunately Rooster has it under lock and key. Believe me when I say we’ve tried to get it from him since freshman year, but It’s his mom’s old recipe that they used to make together before she died.”

You were silent for a moment.

“That’s actually really sweet. Does he do a lot in the kitchen then?” you asked softly.

Laughing, Bob answered, “Oh absolutely not, he’s a master baker but I wouldn’t trust him to make a box of mac n’ cheese. A truly horrid cook.” You laughed this time, and he continued, “He was actually the first one to join the team here, his only request was that he wanted to bake. He says it’s to keep the memory of his parents alive, but truthfully I think it’s when he feels closest to them.”

You hummed in understanding and took another bite, “Well, here’s to Mr. and Mrs. Bradshaw then.”

Bob took another bite before raising his fork, “Here, here!”

The conversation stood still for a moment before you turned to Bob with a serious look on your face, “Rooster, Phoenix, Fanboy, Payback, Hangman, Coyote - everyone else has silly nicknames. How come you don’t have one?”

“Bob actually is a nickname, even though it’s a derivative of my real name. I used to go by Robby, but when I was sharing a dorm with Hangman our freshman year he would always use Bob’s Burgers to fall asleep.” 

“That’s absurd! Everyone knows that American Dad is the superior adult cartoon for sleeping purposes!” you quipped.

“That’s what I always said!” Bob agreed before continuing, “Anyways, the opening jingle started to really drive me crazy but I never said anything about it until one fated day when he put it on while we were all hanging out. I heard one note and went ballistic - we got in the biggest fight we’ve ever had and it ended with him saying that I was ‘jealous that I was the inferior Bob.’ The name just stuck after that,” He ended with a shrug. 

You had a hand over your mouth, but you couldn’t stop yourself. You started laughing, and before he knew what was happening, Bob was laughing so hard he had tears in his eyes and his stomach was burning.

Wiping away stray tears, he looked down at his watch and a deep frown overtook his features.

“Are you okay?” You asked, suddenly worried that you had offended him by laughing so hard.

“Yeah! Yeah, I’m good. I’m just bummed that my break is almost over, none of those fools,” he pointed to the bar, “keep as good of company as you do.” 

You watched as Rooster and Hangman thumb wrestled, Fanboy and Payback standing to the side, acting as referees, “I don’t know, that looks like a pretty intense match.” Bob just laughed again and shook his head. 

“I enjoyed this too, you know. You should join me on your breaks more often, Robby.” 

“I look forward to it,” he said earnestly, leaving you to enjoy your iced strawberry matcha with a new stampede of elephants taking residence in your stomach. 

“I’m just another boy in a coffee shop, dreaming of a love that’s not .. I’m just dreaming of a girl in a coffee shop”

Another month had come and gone, and Bob didn’t let a day go by without sitting with you on his break. If he sometimes took 25 minutes instead of 15, well, nobody said anything about it. Everyone loved you, and everyone loved how happy you seemed to make Bob. 

Everyone was, however, frustrated beyond belief that neither of you had made a move yet. 

Phoenix was the first to crack, and it was under her supervision that operation intervention staff meeting (everyone thought the name Rooster pitched was stupid, but nobody could come up with something better) was born. 

When Bob arrived at her house, ready to handle all the usual housekeeping, he was surprised to find that everyone was already there and sitting in a circle - he always the first to arrive.

“Bob, dear boy. Come in and sit with us.” Rooster said, trying to act normal yet failing miserably. 

The weird tension in the room was palpable, and Bob was unsure what to do other than oblige, “What’s going on?” he asked, before finding a place to sit between Fanboy and Phoenix.

“We’ve decided, dear boy, that you finally grow a spine and ask her out,” Rooster replied, crossing his arms.

“First of all, stop calling me ‘dear boy’ - it’s really weird. Second of all, ask who out? I don’t know what you guys are on about.” Bob coolly responded. 

Suddenly a hoard of pillows was thrown his way and everyone wore the same displeased look on their faces. They were obviously talking about you, and they knew that Bob knew they were talking about you.

“Okay, okay. Fine. I get it. I can’t ask her out though! I love talking to her everyday, she’s one of my best friends at this point. It would make things weird,” he continued.

Hangman groaned, responding before anyone else could, “You really think that would make it weird? Really? After two months of weird sexual tension that everyone but the two of you can see?”

Now he was on the receiving end of the swarm of throw pillows as a chorus of “not the time” “really Hangman?” and “you’re disgusting” rang out.

Payback, who had been quietly observing up until this point, decided it was time to step in. “Listen, man. If you really don’t want to ask her out, none of us are going to make you do it.” Phoenix looked like she was about to object but he shot her a look, “None of us are going to make you do it.” 

Bob looked relieved for a moment, but Payback wasn’t finished yet, “However, I think you’re doing yourself, and her, a huge injustice if you don’t. She looks at you like you hung the stars, and you look at her like she hung the moon. We won’t make you do anything you don’t want to do, but don’t you want to find out how much sweeter life can be if you stopped selling yourself short?”

 “I don’t know how, and I’m scared.” Bob said quietly.

Everyone seemed to sober at his words, and Phoenix pulled him into a tight hug on the couch. She took hold of his hands and looked him in the eyes, “Then we’ll help you figure it out, and we’ll be there with you every step of the way. You deserve this, Bob, don’t let her pass you by only wondering what could’ve been.”

So, they all spent the rest of the night coming up with a plan - eventually falling asleep sprawled around Phoenix’s living room.

•••••

Everything seemed normal when you arrived at Top Brews, albeit there did seem to be a fair fewer cars in the parking lot. You didn’t think much of it, though, Tuesday’s were generally a pretty slow day at the shop. 

It wasn’t until you walked up to the door and noticed the sign that said your name and to not enter unless it was you that you realized this was not going to be an average Tuesday morning. 

Once inside, you followed a trail of meticulously placed coffee beans to your usual corner, where Bob sat nervously with a coffee mug in one hand and a bouquet of daisies in the other. You could barely hear Billy Joel over the blood rushing to your head, suddenly feeling a wave of nerves and anticipation crash into you.

You had a million questions, but settled on a familiar one instead, “What’s in the cup today, Robby?”

“It’s, uh, it’s a honey vanilla latte with cinnamon steamed into the oat milk. I’m not sure if you remember this or not, but I made it for you the first time you came in,” he stopped for a moment to take a deep breath, “I haven’t stopped thinking about you since that day. I’ve tested a thousand different recipes - not all winners, by the way - to make sure I can always make you something new. I used to hate taking breaks, but since I started sitting with you they are the highlight of my day. I never realized how much I missed being called Robby until you said it. I really don’t want to mess this up with you, you make my life sweeter in every way without even realizing it. If this is weird, and I’m misreading things, feel free to walk out that door and pretend this never happened but I am begging you, if that’s the case, please don’t stop coming -”

He was cut off by your lips making contact with his.

Pulling back, you allowed your eyes to meet his, “I remember every drink you’ve ever made me, I keep them saved to a list on my phone. I came back to this shop because of you. Watching you make drinks and sing whatever song is playing under your breath because you think nobody is looking has become my favorite pastime. I can’t even use my own Breville anymore because all I can think about is you using it instead. You’ve overtaken every inch of my brain and you’ve made the most bitter days sweet again. I could never stop coming through that door because I know you’re on the other side of it. This is by far the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me, and I love it.”

You connected your lips to his again when a sudden roar of cheers and clapping filled the space. 

Bob pulled away this time - laughing softly at your startled expression whilst the others poured out of the kitchen.

“Oh, yeah, I had a little help.”

▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️▫️

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[toxic-aries]

my tattoo artist went down on me (2k words)

paring: tattoo artist!eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: eddie munson offered to design a new tattoo for you, during the session things got a little heated.

warnings: 18+ (minors DNI), oral (f recieving), fingering, squirting, some strong lanuage, and some cringey writing, if i missed any please let me know.

a/n: this is a super old draft from a few months ago so I hope you all enjoy <;3

feedback & criticism is very appreciated. please let me know if you have any thoughts on how I can approve. thank you :)

You stood outside the Munsons trailer, a tad bit nervous, but it is a normal feeling…especially when it comes to getting a new tattoo. But, the thought of Eddie Munson giving you said tattoo made your heart race even more…not that you didn't trust his tattooing skills…oh come on you didn't trust that boy's art skills at all.

All of a sudden the screen door of the trailer swings open, and there stood Eddie. Shirtless. Kind of sweaty. Messy curls as always. Slightly tighter jeans than normal. This look of his caught you off guard, rightfully so…it was a stunning look. “Are you just going to stand there like a creep?” He leaned his body against the door frame, crossing his arms while examining you.

Your mouth parted slightly like you were going to answer his question, but no words were coming out. All you wanted to do was stare at him. He knew. “Cat got your tongue, sweetheart?” He whispered as you stepped through the doorway of the trailer, those words sent shivers down your spine. “Come on, I have everything set up in my room.”

“You do know what you're doing right, Munson?” You teased as Eddie led you to his room down the hall.

“Well how else do you think I got these sweet ole’ tatties, huh?” He points at the bats on his arm, “This is my newest work, you like?”

“Not really my style…but they're cool.”

“You seem hard to please…” He mumbles to himself as he sits down in a rolly chair, then opening a sketchbook turning to the page with your design on it. You just wanted some simple roses on your thigh, not too much. “Does this look like what you had in mind, darling?” He really needs to stop with these pet names.

His artwork was actually…good. Surprisingly. “Oh my gosh, I love that!” You exclaimed. He rolls over to the edge of his bed and pats it motioning for you to sit down. The workspace area wasn't the greatest but hey…it’s more professional looking than others. A single towel sits on the edge of the bed, the tattoo gun with the ink caps on a random nightstand and a pair of normal gloves beside it. “Well, I’m glad you like it…hopefully I can draw the sketch again actually on your leg”

Eddie says as he pulls out a couple markers, biting the cap off of one and spitting it out onto the floor, he rolls himself over to you. Putting his knee in between your legs, “Now which thigh are we putting it on.” His pretty brown eyes look up at you as his free hand caresses the side of your right thigh.

“U-uhm…my right one. I want it…” You pointed to the upper thigh of your right leg, making a general circle motion around the area. “About right here.” He moved his hand to that spot, retracing that circle you had made. “So, you want it right here?” You gulped at his question, feeling the slight tension building in the room. “I guess you're going to have to take these things off so we can get started.” His finger moves from your thigh to your hip, pulling on the belt loop of your jeans. “I thought I told you to wear something short.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I had just gotten off work and -”

“Y/N, i'm only playing around…” Eddie chuckled as he pushed himself back, giving you some space to take off your jeans. “Unless, you like to be told what to do?” His eyebrow raised as he watches you stand up and unbutton your jeans.

“Maybe I do, Munson.” His eyes widen at your words. “Oh really…” Eddie's words lingered as he rolled over to you, your hips perfectly in line with his head. “Maybe…I can help take these off for you, sweetheart.” His hands moved up your legs to your hips, pulling down on your belt loops. Pulling down your pants slowly. The feeling of his hands against your bare skin sends tingles throughout your body. The cold metal from his rings sent chills. The intimacy was a bare minimum, but your body craved more.

“Sit back down.”

You listened. He grabbed the marker again and began to draw the rose design on your upper thigh. About thirty or some extra minutes pass and he’s done with the sketch. It looked just like what was in his notebook. “You ready?”

“I guess so…lay it on me.”

Eddie’s been tattooing for about an hour. The vibrations from the tattoo gun piercing your skin sends tingles throughout your entire body. Causing you to grip onto the sheets of his bed, tighter and tighter and tighter. Eddie notices. He moves his free hand to your opposite leg, gripping his hand in the skin of your soft thigh. “Do you need a break?” You shook your head to signal no, you were lying.

He pushed himself back slightly as he lifted the machine up from your skin, placing it on the table beside him. “I can tell you need a break…” His words faded off almost like he was going to say more, which made you curious. Your eyes met his. He uses the chair to pull himself closer to you, leaving you face to face, merely inches apart. “Maybe, we can do something else…instead.”

“Like what?”

“Like this.” He pushes your body against the bed, now hovering over you. His finger pulls your chin up closer to his face, staring directly at your lips. You need him. All of him. You couldn't take the tease anymore, so, your arms wrap around his neck and pull yourself up to meet his lips. Clashing into each other. You wanted more. His lips trailed off yours, moving down to your chin, then your neck. Leaving a few marks on his territory. “Let me take this off of you.” He whines into the crook of your neck while pulling at the edge of your t-shirt. His hand starts pulling it up as you move with his movements finally taking it off. Exposing your bare chest.

Suddenly the heated makeout session paused. “Oh shit, I don't want you getting an infection with this thing being exposed. Stand up real quick.” He said as he stood up, reaching his hand out to help pull you up. He put a few layers of paper towels over the half-way done rose, taping the edges to your skin, making sure he doesn't make it too uncomfortable for you. “Does that feel okay?” You nodded at his question.

Eddie places a few soft and gentle kisses on your other thigh, getting closer and closer to you. You feel as his hand moves from the side of your thigh to palm your clothed pussy. His touch caused you to jump a tad, “Oh. Do you not want that?” He said as he looked up at you.

“N-No, I do, trust me. I want that.” You whined, practically begging for him at this point. A smirk grew on his face. Using his pointer he slid your panties over, running said finger down your pussy, “You’ve been this wet the whole time?” He sighed, “Fuck Y/N.” His pointer finger then enters your core, making slight pumping motions. Then pulling it out, putting his hands on your hips, his face directly in line with you.

“Take them off, please.” Your voice was breathy. Eddie wasted no time, pulling your hips closer to his face then using his teeth to drag your panties down your legs. Finishing taking them off using his hands. He stood up from the chair, towering over you, “Lay down on your back, bend your legs too.” He demanded.

You did just as he said, of course. Watching him get down to the right level, he threw your legs over his shoulder. His fingers danced around your entrance, sending pains to your stomach as the heat began to build. Your pussy was throbbing, craving for him to do something…literally anything. You weren't really an impatient person, but you just craved him. “Can you please do something Mun-”

You were cut off by him licking your cunt, tasting you from bottom to top. Sending you to throw your head back letting out a soft moan. Using his pointer and middle he spread your lips open even more, sticking his tongue into your core. Your hands reached between your own legs to his hair, yanking and pulling at his roots. “We’ll see if youre so hard to please…” He groaned into your pussy, the vibrations from his voice causing that heat to build even more in the pit of your stomach.

Eddie put his lips around your throbbing clit, while locking eyes with you. Your back pressed harder against the bed, he continued to lick and suck on your cunt, randomly pulling up to plant kisses on the inner thighs. His ringed hand rubbing up and down your thigh as the free fingers finds its way to your core again. His lips stayed on your clit as his fingers fucked your tight hole, his tongue dancing around your clit in circular motions. That intense feeling in the pit of your stomach gets warmer and warmer. “Eddie fuck!” You moan out, trying to catch your breath while he hasn't eased up one bit. “Are you already getting close sweetheart?” He whined as he pulled up from your pussy, removing his fingers from your center, “God, youre so fucking wet…” His hand reached up to your mouth, “Open for me…” His fingers that are covered in your juices enter your mouth, you take them deep, nearly down your throat.

He pushes your legs from his shoulders and plants them down to the bed, spreading your legs open further. Making his access to your pussy easier. “You can only cum when I tell you to, okay?” He says as he gets back down to your level, maintaining that intense eye contact still.

You nod, “O-Okay.” His tongue meets your core, in and out, circular motions, he then licks all the way up your cunt again taking in all your taste and juices. The feeling was incredible. He definitely knew how to use his tongue. He sucks on your bulging and throbbing clit again, using his pointer and middle to pound your hole again. Pumping them in and out. His free hand moved to your hip pushing you down deeper into the bed, the cold metal from his rings against the warmth of your skin. You were getting close, but he hasn't told you yet.

“Are you close, princess?” He moaned as he came up to catch his breath, how in the fuck did he know. “If you're close…you can cum.”

He didnt have to say anymore, “Eddie, fuck.” You cursed out as your head flung back, your chest rising up and down faster and faster. That warm pit in your stomach is nearly on fire. His fingers got faster and faster as they pounded into your core, “Cum for me baby…” he groans, your legs start to shake as an even more intense orgasm builds.

Then you did exactly what he said. As it snapped, you screamed, Eddie pulling his thick fingers from inside you, still pushing against your clit, a hard stream gushing forth. After a few moments, you are still shaken by the sensation. As his digits plunge into your dripping pussy,a few curses and moans of his name escape your lips, he pumps in and out a few more times before pulling them out and watching you squirt again.

“Fuck Y/N.”

“Shit Eddie, I am so fucking sorry.”

“No, I dont give a fuck about that.” His tongue licks off the excess cum dripping from your warm cunt. “That was fucking hot.”

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” You leaned down to his level planting a sloppy kiss on his lips. “Then let’s finish this tattoo.”

“Another round once I'm done?”

if you enjoyed please consider commenting or reblogging, it makes a huge difference ♡

[jobean12-blog]

The Shadow of Love

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader (Fairytale/Vampire AU, soft!dark)

Word Count: 6,017

Summary: James has spent many of his long years in despair...until he finds you. 

Author’s Note: This is for @boxofbonesfic “Once Upon a Time” celebration and 10K milestone! Congratulations lovely and thank you for hosting! 💕This is also for Lilo and Aqua’s “Myths and Legends” writing challenge @sparkledfirecracker @tumblin-theworldaway thank you both for hosting!💕 The fairytale that inspired this is Beauty and the Beast. I also have references to the book Frankenstein by Mary Shelley. I used a lot of Vampire myth and legend, including some form of magic-charming- to keep the reader under control. James and his companions are definitely from a different era of time than the reader and they come off kind of fancy for that reason. 

Warnings: mentions of b-loo-d, mind c-ontrol and magic charming, k-id-napping, built up tension, moments of f-ea-r, s-ucking b-loo-d, b-iting, but there is some softness laced in between all of it (18+ONLY)-if I miss any please let me know :)

The banner above is mine. It’s terrible because I’m terrible at banners. The edit on the left was made by my dear friend Nix, which is the opposite of terrible, it’s amazing 💕This photo below is all Seb, I take no credit for his gorgeousness. 

The last rays of a dying sun filter through the ornate stained-glass windows of the estate and cast shimmers of fading color upon the dusty stone floor. The only other light is from a pair of blue eyes, so startling, they rival the beauty of the ancient artwork adorning the walls.

“You are sulking again,” a voice calls from the back of the room.

It receives no answer and there is no sound of footsteps as the other approaches, materializing next to the set of blue eyes.

“Are you going to spend all of eternity in this constant state of shadow?” the new voice asks.

James turns to his companion, the years of their friendship spread out over centuries, and asks, “isn’t that the very nature of our existence?”

Steven only stares ahead in answer before placing a placating hand on James’ shoulder. “You have the power to take what you want. You must make a choice. Stop lingering in this…purgatory.”

James only nods before his legs begin to vaporize and tendrils of dark mist crawl up his long body. His eyes are the last thing Steven sees, the blue piercing the black cloud before James is gone.

Steven drops his head then turns on his heel, walking briskly from the large room.

The bar is busier than usual tonight, full of tourists regaling in their visit and drunk locals cheering them on. You run from table to table, dodging sloshing pints and groping hands. When you finally find yourself back behind the bar you let out a long exhale and lean on the counter, smiling when your friend the bartender dashes past you for more glasses.

��Really hopping tonight,” Matt yells with a smile.

You laugh with an exaggerated wipe of your brow then grab your glass of cool water for a nice long drink. You take no notice of the pair of stunning blue eyes that follow your every move, their owner cloaked in shadow and hidden from the sight of most.

In the next hours that pass many of the patrons become too drunk to carry on a conversation and the travelers move on, so the bar is now quiet and you have time for your favorite activity. You reach under the bar top and retrieve your book, a smile gracing your features as you sit and open to your bookmark.

“Reading again?” Matt asks as he grabs himself a drink of water.

“Always,” you answer without looking up.

He’s silent for several moments until he leans down to whisper along your ear, “that man over there…he hasn’t taken his eyes off you all night. Do you know him?”

You keep your head down as if you are still reading but slowly lift your eyes and search the room. At first you see nothing and your brow furrows in confusion.

“Matt, I don’t see…” you start to whisper, stopping short when your breath catches in your throat at the sight of the man he speaks of.

It’s as if the world around you fades away and you’re consumed by the presence of this stranger. Your breathing slows and at first all you can hear is the rush of blood in your ears, until his voices penetrates the veil, smooth like silk even as you stare at lips unmoving. It frightens you but you can’t seem to break away and it feels as though you’re being pulled toward him by an invisible string.

“Hey!” you suddenly hear your body shaking under the force of Matt’s hands.

You gasp loudly and grab hold of Matt’s arm, turning to him with wide and panicked eyes.

“You ok?” Matt asks, much more softly now, his features etched with concern.

“I…,” you start and swing your head back in the direction of the stranger but he seems to have disappeared into thin air. “I think so.”

Matt follows your line of sight and whispers, his shock evident, “he’s gone.”

You swallow hard and cling to Matt with trembling hands. “I swear it was like I was under a spell,” you say quietly.

“It looked like you were in a trance,” Matt explains before handing you more water.

“Have you seen him before?” Matt asks.

You don’t answer right away, a chill running down your spine as your mind races.

“I don’t know…it all felt eerily familiar but I never even got a look at him.”

“Did you frighten her again?” Steven grins when James pushes through the large double doors of the estate with a loud bang.

James shoots him a cold glare and Steven’s grin fades.

“She is always with that young man…Matt” James states, his distaste obvious in the way he says the name. “Who is he? Why does she stay with him?”

Steven waits before answering, clearly formulating a careful response.

“I have seen him,” Steven answers. “You have mentioned they work together…perhaps they are just friends.”

“She isn’t in love with him,” James states after a prolonged silence. “But he is in love with her.”

Steven takes a step toward James, resting both of his hands on James’ broad shoulders.

“Do not make any thoughtless actions James,” Steven warns. “You don’t want to lose her before you even have her.”

“You think she would be upset if I…disposed of him?”

James’ question makes Steven raise his brows with a wry smile.

“Fine…I won’t kill him,” James sighs. “But I will not allow him to stand in the way of what’s mine.”

The next few nights of work are uneventful and slow and by the time the weekend rolls around you’ve almost finished your book.

You feel his presence before you see him, a warm rush of awareness overwhelming your senses. You lift your gaze from the page and meet his incredible blue eyes. He’s handsome in a way that’s arresting and your heart starts to beat faster.

“Hello doll,” the man greets.

You stare at him, your mouth curving into a cautious smile.

He smiles back, his plush red lips spreading wide over white teeth.

“Have we met before?” you muse as you openly study him.

“I don’t believe so,” he answers. “I would never forget such a beautiful creature.”

Your eyes linger on his handsome features, his eyes standing out above all else, before you lower your lashes at his compliment.

“Can I get you a drink?” you ask, as you close your book and hide it back under the bar.

“Please,” he says. “Red wine.”

You nod and go about pouring him some, setting the glass down carefully and noting how his long and thick fingers curl seductively around the stem.

“What book has you so captivated?” he asks as he swirls the liquid around the glass.  

“Frankenstein,” you answer. “Have you read it?”

“I have.”

You instantly brighten at his answer and hold out your hand to introduce yourself. He takes it, filled with a sudden delirious hope as he dips his head to brush his cool lips across your knuckles.

Goosebumps erupt across your skin at the feel of his lips but thankfully you recover by the time he lifts his eyes back to yours.

“A pleasure doll. I’m James. James Barnes.”

Your eyes widen slightly at the recognition of his name.

“James,” you repeat in a soft murmur and he tenses at how keenly he wants to hear his name on your perfect lips again and again.

“So I do know you…sort of.”

You’d heard stories of the famous family but you always assumed they were nothing more than that…stories.

“You may have heard my name before, yes,” he acknowledges, “but I assure you that whatever you’ve heard isn’t quite the truth.

“Guess I’ll just have to find out for myself,” you reply.

James steels himself, hiding his pleasure at your words with a swift change of topic.

“How do you like the book so far?” he asks.

“I love it! It’s hauntingly beautiful and sad. I’m almost finished.”

With an agreeable nod he launches into a perfectly articulated and clever review of the book, much to your delight and you find yourself completely engrossed with his every word.

“You must come and see my library,” James tells you. “I have an extensive collection.”

You sigh at the thought, resting your elbows on the bar and leaning in close to him.

“I’d love that more than anything. I’ve always dreamed of having my very own library.”

His eyes flash, silver against his pale skin, and he brushes his fingers down your arm.

“You are most welcome any time doll. I think you would find my home has many things you would enjoy.”

Matt loudly calls your name, his tone sharp, and it startles you.

“Need some help down here,” he repeats, eyeing you suspiciously.

You pull yourself away from James, feeling slightly lightheaded but managing a smile.

“I apologize but I need to go help…”

“Of course doll,” James says smoothly, gritting his teeth with anger at the interruption.

“Perhaps I may request your presence at the ball I’m hosting next week. I can show you my library.”

You can’t hide your surprise at his invitation, your eyes filled with nervous anticipation.

“If you’d rather have a more private introduction I will understand,” he quickly adds.

“No, no,” you assure him once you recover. “But a ball…isn’t that old fashioned?”

You make sure to smile after you tell him this.

“Indeed it is!” he agrees with a smile. “You’ll find I can be very old fashioned…perhaps I should have used the term party.”

“There is much to do!” James bellows as Steven follows behind. “Everything needs to be cleaned and prepared. Nothing can be left undone!”

Steven rushes off to alert the others and begin the preparations while James stalks off to the library to make sure his most befitting gift is in order.

“Why wasn’t I invited?” Matt asks as he follows you around your small bedroom. “You need someone to come with you to keep you safe! We hardly know this guy.”

You turn to him with a smirk.

“Well, anyone who enjoys books as much as I do can’t be all bad!” you exclaim as you look him over. “Now go find something to wear.”

When you arrive at James’ estate you tilt your head back to follow the grand height of the edifice. It looms darkly against the star filled sky, backlit by the shine of the moon.

“Wow, it’s bigger than I imagined,” you whisper to Matt.

“This place is insane! It looks like some creepy house from one of your books,” he jokes.

You elbow him before smoothing your hands down your dress and using the knocker to alert your presence.

The door swiftly opens to reveal a tall blonde with a sweet smile.

“Welcome,” he states, keeping his eyes on you. “James is expecting you.”

He finally moves his eyes to Matt and his lips turn down into a slight frown.

“You’ve brought a guest,” Steven states dryly.

You fidget with your hands and drop your head.

“I didn’t wan to come alone…” you start to say quietly.

“Do not fret darling,” Steven says kindly. “You were simply being smart. Please, come in.”

He reaches for your hand and you take his, stepping inside with Matt right behind you.

As Steven ushers you down the long hallway you take the opportunity to look around, noting the elaborately decorated walls, with bold colors but delicate carvings and when you pass a set of large floor to ceiling windows you notice a splash of vibrant color outside.

“Oh!” you exclaim, stopping to look. “You have a garden?”

Steven steps closer to you, admiring the blooms.

“We do,” he says proudly. “It is James’ second most prized possession…his library being the first.”

A bright smile graces your features at the mention of the library.

“And all these flowers bloom at night?” you ask, your forehead furrowed now in thought. “How strange.”

Steven clears his throat. “Why yes! Excellent observation my sweet. James prefers the beauty and fragrance of things…nocturnal.”

“Now come, we don’t want to be late.”

With that, Steven urges you down the hallway toward large wooden double doors. He pushes them open with ease and sweeps out his arm with a bow.

You give him an elegant nod of your head and enter. The domed ceiling is covered with magnificent frescoes and the candlelit wall sconces cast various hunting battles, landscape scenes, and jousts in an eerie glow.

“Wow,” you whisper, still looking up when you feel that familiar shiver creep down your spine.

That’s when you turn and see him. He approaches slowly, his tall and powerful body moving smoothly across the floor. He’s dressed formally and when he reaches you he bows with a flourish.

You’re momentarily stunned, the opulence of it all something you are not used to.

James holds out an inviting hand just as you hear the first note from an organ hidden above you, the melodic sound reverberating in the open space.

You reach for him, placing your fingers in his palm and smiling softly.

“If I see but one smile on your lips when we meet, occasioned by this or any other exertion of mine, I shall need no other happiness,” he murmurs, quoting a line from Frankenstein.

“Oh that’s one of my favorites from the story!” you gush.

In a whirl you are quickly in his arms, one of his hands holding yours and the other placed at your lower back.

“I’m so delighted you came,” he says tenderly as his eyes wander over your face then sweep down your body. “You are a vision. The stars will be jealous of you tonight.”

If the use of one of your favorite lines didn’t already work his most recent words make you swoon and you clutch his hand more tightly, nibbling your bottom lip.

“James…” you begin but he spins you away before you can say more and when you’re back in his arms his face is only inches from yours and you’re at a loss for any other words.

He keeps you close and you can feel every inch of his hard body pressed to yours.

The sound of voices draws your attention away and you suddenly remember Matt.

“Oh!” you exclaim, “what about Matt?”

James smiles and although the gesture is warm something dark flickers in his eyes.

“Your friend seems to be doing just fine doll,” James tells you as he spins you both around so you can see.

Matt is currently dancing with a beautiful red head, her pale face lit up in a smile as they twirl around the room.

“He certainly looks fine,” you finally say with a giggle.

“I assure you my friends are very engaging. They were overjoyed to know I was having company. Natasha especially. She loves to dance and it’s been quite some time since I’ve entertained.”

“Your home is beautiful,” you say. “Do you live here alone?”

“No. Not alone,” he says. “Steven is my companion…we have been through much together and our friendship runs deep.”

“I met him when we got here and he showed me a glimpse of your impressive garden.”  

James smiles, doing nothing to hide the haughty lift of his chin, and says, “ah yes! You’ve seen my flowers. I do enjoy tending to my nightly blooms.”

“I noticed many of them were open even in the nighttime,” you state pleasantly, not wanting to come off as rude.

“Yes all flowers of the darkness. The moonflowers are my personal favorite.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen one of those before,” you say.

“Well I’ll be sure to give you the grand tour of the garden after you see the library,” he beams.

As you continue to dance and talk you lose track of time, not even noticing that Matt has long since disappeared and you and James are the only two left in the large room.

“You’re a wonderful dancer James.”

“I’ve had many years of practice,” he explains. “And it helps having such an exquisite partner.”

You glow under his praise and find yourself craving more from him. You press yourself closer and release his hand, languidly sliding it along his shoulder to rest just below the base of his neck.

Joyously he returns your embrace, holding you affectionately as he continues to float you around the room. As the music slows so do his steps and as if sensing the change, you cling to him, your fingers sliding into the hair at the back of his neck.

His passion mixes with the innate thirst he has kept hidden and the scent of your skin, the feel of your body and the taste of you is overwhelming. He yields, and with a groan, dips his head to kiss your throat, his fangs emerging quickly and purposefully.

His kiss is gentle, not that of a predator but of a lover, and you gasp at first but don’t pull away. An ecstasy like you’ve never known takes over and any thought of pain ebbs away with every pulse of your blood.

“James!” comes a commanding voice that goes unheard by you. “Release her!”

You’re suddenly thrust from James’ arms, weak and dizzy. A soothing voice enters your head and your eyelids grow heavy, the room around you slowly fading into blackness.

James paces at the foot of his large bed, the four wooden posts holding up the deep velvet draping’s that partially shield you from his eyes.

“The thirst is commanding,” Steven states placidly. “But you must be more careful!”

James turns to his lifelong friend and stares, his lips parting as his fangs grow and sharpen.

“Yes, it does,” James answers, his voice low and menacing. “I need to feed.”

Steven nods with a quick glance at your prone form on the bed. “She will be safe here and she will sleep through tomorrow’s sun. Come. Let us hunt.”

The two men take long strides toward the door and with one last longing glance behind him, your soft features illuminated by a sliver of the moon’s pale light that escapes through the tapestries, James’ body shifts into the shape of a sleek black wolf and he races away.

At the smell of food you gently shift along the silken sheets, stretching out like a cat before you blink your eyes open. Darkness surrounds you and the smell of something sweet but weathered permeates the scent of the well-cooked meal.

You sit up slowly, clutching the sheets to your chest and noting that you are no longer wearing your dress from last night, only a thin chemise.

Last night?

Your mind begins to race and your voice catches in your throat as your eyes focus on the room.

“Where am I?” you squeak out, plastering yourself to the leather headboard.

“You’re safe doll.”

At the sound of James’ soothing voice you visibly relax. Something about his presence makes you feel calmer. You don’t quite understand it but he puts your mind and body at ease.

“What happened?” you ask. “Where is Matt?”

“You indulged a bit too much after dancing,” he explains as he moves closer, now standing beside the bed. “You were unfit to get home so I let you sleep here. As for Matt, he is safe at home.”

Again, for reasons unknown to you, you trust his word.

“Is this your bed?” you ask as you fingers sweep over the plush fabric.

You look up at him with the unspoken question in your eyes.

“Yes,” he whispers. “But I slept elsewhere. I promise you.”

More tension leaves your shoulders and you look past him to the steaming food on the small table.

“Hungry?” he asks with a mischievous grin.

“Starving!” you exclaim as you start to get up.

When you stand your legs are wobbly and you teeter at the edge of the bed.

James quickly wraps you in his embrace and holds you against his chest.

“Slow,” he instructs. “You have slept long and haven’t eaten. Sit. I will bring it to you.”

He gently sits you back down and goes to get the tray of food, setting it down beside you on the bed. He pulls up a chair and sits beside you, stabbing a piece of the food with the fork and bringing it to your lips.

Your eyes stay locked on his as your mouth opens and you take a bite. The low moan that leaves the back of your throat is unexpected but you are hungrier than you thought and the food is delicious.

His eyes flash and he grips the fork tighter, his already white skin pulled tight against his knuckles.

“Good, isn’t it?” he asks, plucking another bite from the plate.

“Yes,” you whisper, eagerly taking the second piece.

“Eat all you want doll. You’ll need your energy for all I have to show you today.”

He entertains you with stories of how he’s collected his books and how he came to love gardening. You brighten at his words and dutifully eat all the food on the plate.

When you’ve had your fill he stands and begins to collect the tray. You sit back with a contented sigh, fiddling with your necklace. Your fingers graze something on your neck and a rush of emotion floods through you.

“James,” you say, your voice wavering.

He’s instantly at your side, his face etched with worry.

“I…I have…” you stammer, fighting the growing warning in your head.

James delicately rests his palm over your cheek, brushing his thumb across your lips.

“Everything is fine doll. I have everything you need here. Just say the words and it will be yours.”

Your eyes refocus and settle on his as a sense of peacefulness washes over you once again.

“Thank you.”

He smiles, warm and inviting, and your eyes drop to his lips. You’re drawn to him in every way, his charm ever present in the forefront of your mind and you grab his wrist, leaning in closer.

A loud knock on the door startles you from your trance and you pull away, quickly covering yourself with the blanket.

James’ eyes narrow and he let’s out a low rumble.

“Come in,” he says dangerously.

Steven enters and looks between the two of you, his eyes widening slightly at the look on James’ face.

“Sorry to disturb you,” he regrets. “But you are needed.”

He keeps his eyes on James and waits.

“I won’t be long,” James assures you, pressing his lips to the corner of your mouth. “You’ll find everything you need in the chest at the foot of the bed. Feel free to wander the house.”

He stands abruptly and moves toward Steven, brushing past him with the soft closing of the door.

“This better be worth my time,” James seethes.

Once the two men are far enough away from the bedroom Steven grabs James’ arm and swiftly turns him so they are face to face.

“Do you have her under your charm?” Steven asks, his teeth gritted.

James turns away, walking toward the windows to look out over the garden, the bright blooms like stars scattered across the darkness.  

“She will try to run,” he states coldly. “I will not have it.”

“James,” Steven sighs as he comes to stand beside his friend. “You do not give yourself enough credit. How do you know she will not grow to love you?”

James is silent for a long time, his eyes still staring out at the darkness.

When he finally speaks his voice is smaller, carrying none of it’s usual authority and fierceness.

“One could no sooner love a monster.”

“Give her time,” Steven answers quietly.

James makes no further comment and simply asks, “what could be so important that you would pull me from my love?”

“The young man…Matt, came to the estate. He is demanding to know why she is still here in your care and when she is coming home.”

James is quiet for a long time after Steven’s explanation and finally he squares his shoulders and sets his jaw firmly in line.

“Deal with it and make sure I am not disturbed again unless absolutely necessary.”

Before Steven can give any sign of acknowledgement James whisps away into a bat and speeds down the hall toward the library.

You dress in the clothes that he left you, running your fingertips over the soft fabric of the simple dress and loving how it fits you perfectly. The floor beneath your feet is chilly and you silently wish for something warm to cover them. Just as you open the door of the bedroom you notice a pair of slippers resting at the side and you wonder if the house has heard your silent request and answered.

Now warm and comfortable you make your way down the long hallway, passing the room from last night where you danced with James. You continue further down, seeing many smaller adjacent rooms that hold cozy sitting areas and desks.

When you reach the end of the hall, moonlight gathers on the stone floor from one of the large windows, and a large oaken door sits slightly ajar.

You take a deep breath and gently push it open the rest of the way.

A large fire burns comfortably in the hearth, its ruddy glow infusing the room with heat and light. The walls are lined from floor to ceiling with richly carved wooden bookshelves, every available space filled with books.

The scent of well-oiled leather and old parchment invades your senses and you throw your hands up and twirl with barely subdued awe.

“I was hoping I would be back in time to see your reaction,” James purrs from the doorway.

You spin around to find him leaning against the tall wooden doorframe, his perfect lips carved into a soft smile.

“Oh James!” you exclaim. “It’s just….”

You squeal in happiness, running to one of the shelves and plucking a book off, your fingers moving reverently across the worn binding before you carefully open it and lift it to your nose.

Your inhalation is loud and full and when you lift your eyes to James his own are crinkled with joy.

“Is it everything you hoped for?” he inquires as he moves toward you.

“It’s even better,” you whisper, clutching the book to your chest.

When he reaches you he presses his long fingers under your chin, caressing your jaw with his thumb.

“I cannot express the happiness this brings me. You may read anything you like. They are yours.”  

Your mouth falls open at his offer and your eyes widen, brightening with tears.

“But…why? You just met me. Isn’t there someone else…?”

“There is no one else,” he says sharply, not meaning to speak so and he quickly smiles and tucks you under his arm.

“There is no one else who would enjoy them as much as you,” he says, this time his voice soft and pleasant.

“What about you?”

Your question catches him off guard and he studies you silently before gathering you in his arms and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

“Yes. I will enjoy them too of course.”

He’s reluctant to let you go but he can feel your body brimming with excitement.

“Go, enjoy! I will come find you shortly for dinner.”

He turns to leave but you grab his hand and give it a small tug, smiling under your lashes when he gives you a curious look. You press your palm to one of his cheeks and softly kiss the other, your lips lingering for a moment before you pull away.

“Thank you,” you whisper and with a wide smile you dash off to the shelves.

James wanders back down the hall, his fingers pressed to the same spot your lips had touched and for the first time he weighs the reality of Steven’s words.

Could you really love him? Would you stay because you wanted to?

When Steven comes to collect you for dinner you are curled up in one of the scarlet velvet cushioned chairs, a large book in your lap and a wistful expression on your face.

“My dear,” Steven says softly. “Dinner is ready and you must be hungry.”

You look up with a start but smile when you see him.

“Yes, I am!” you say with a laugh. “What time is it?”

“It is well past dinner time but your schedule is off after your night of partying.”

At that last word Steven gives you a playful grin and you match it but as you stand and go to him it begins to fall.

“I don’t even remember having a drink! All I remember is dancing with James and then I woke up in his bed.”

Your steps slow and you look at Steven, your eyes turning round with fear.

“Don’t worry,” he says carefully, moving forward tentatively to take your hand. “Everything is fine and you are safe.”

His words are like a warm caress and you feel the tension seep from your body.

“What have you been reading?” he asks as he urges you out the door of the library.

With your fearful thoughts a distant memory you divulge Steven in every little detail of the book you’ve read so far…a first edition copy of ‘Wuthering Heights.’

“I still can’t believe I have it in my hands,” you say with amazement as you look down at the book. “Where did he get this?”

“You can ask him yourself,” Steven smiles as he holds the door of the dining room open.

James greets you by taking your free hand and leading you toward the chair next to his, pulling it out so you may sit.

Steven clears his throat to get James’ attention, a silent exchange passing between them. James nods and proceeds to sit.

“So, what do you think so far?” James asks as his eyes drop to the book.

“I love it but how did you get a first edition copy?”

Your excitedness eases some of the worry that Steven’s earlier warning provoked and he relaxes, eagerly listening to your chatter about the book.

“Won’t you have something to eat?” you ask when you scrape your plate clean with your last bite.

James glances down at his still full plate and smiles.

“Well, I was so enraptured with you, I forgot to eat,” he says with a wink. “But come, we will go to the garden before we have some dessert.”

He stands and reaches for your hand, taking it and looping your arm with his. You press into his side and walk with him down the long hallway toward the garden.

The darkness of the night isn’t oppressive, the leaf-filtered moonlight turning the garden into a moving tapestry of shadows and wisps, and all around are the soft sounds of nighttime life.

James breathes in deeply, the subtle scent of your warm blood taking precedent above all the other fragrances from the flowers. A warm breeze travels among the leaves and blooms yet your body trembles.

“Are you cold?” James asks.

“It isn’t cold out but for some reason I feel a chill.”

At your answer he shrugs off his jacket and drapes it over your shoulders. You smile in thanks and pull it closer to your body, discreetly sniffing the collar.

His smell makes you sigh and you snuggle closer to the warm fabric.

“It must be a lot of work to care for all these flowers,” you muse as you meander down the stone pathways.

“It takes nurturing and patience,” he says quietly as his eyes wander across the flowers. “Time is something I have a lot of.”

He steps closer to the moonflower plant and gently picks a blossom, twirling it between his long fingers.

“This, doll, is a moonflower.”

He holds it just under your nose, the soft petals tickling your skin as you inhale.

“It smells almost citrusy,” you remark. “They are beautiful.”

He takes the flower and tucks it under the thin strap of your dress, his fingertips tracing the outline of your collarbone before ghosting along your throat.

“Did you know they are deadly if ingested?”

Your eyebrows raise and you shake your head, leaning into his touch. “The seeds are highly toxic but thankfully once you educate yourself they are both very safe and very easy to cultivate.”

“Do they stay open in the daytime?” you ask, your voice breathless.

“They do not. They are true nighttime blooms. Only in the darkness do they come alive.”

His fingers move higher and curl around the back of your neck. Your scent surrounds him, drowning out all his other sharpened senses.

“James,” your voice trembles.

“Do you want to know another of my favorite quotes from your beloved Frankenstein story?” he whispers, his breath cool against your skin.

His fangs begin to lengthen and hunger tugs at every fiber of his unnatural existence.

“What is it?” you ask, your body now completely pliant against his.

His nose brushes along the length of your neck and he gently nips at your earlobe, pressing his thumb under your chin to tilt your head back and expose more of your throat.

“If I cannot inspire love, I will cause fear,” he murmurs, pressing his lips just below your ear.

You tremble but this time it’s not from the cold and when your eyes meet his commanding gaze you smile softly and press closer to him.

“But I am not afraid,” you whisper.

He takes your face in his hands and smooths the pad of his thumb across your lips, his tongue darting out to wet his own, their color red with the anticipation of the taste of you. His fingers slide down and graze your pulse point, the rhythmic throbbing sending a rush of heat through his body.

The clouds move slowly across the sky, exposing the full silver light of the moon and it floods the garden, bathing you both in an ethereal glow.

“I will no longer suffer this eternity alone. You will be mine forever.”

His lips press to yours, nipping and licking your warm flesh before he parts your tongue and swallows your gasps of pleasure. A fire erupts across your skin and your fingernails dig into his back, his jacket falling to the ground in a heap of dark fabric.

As his hands explore your bare skin he can barely contain his awe, the feeling of you is better than anything he could have imagined in his long life.

The flower that is secured in your dress floats to the floor as his fingers slip under the thin straps and slowly push them off your shoulders. His lips never leave yours when his hands travel lower, caressing every inch of you that he can.

“James, please,” you beg, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, desperate to feel more of him.

He pulls away, your lips still chasing his, and looks into your eyes.

Slowly he loosens his hold over you and some of the light returns to your eyes like a spark ignited. You reach for him again; this time of your own accord and he growls in victory.

With languid movements he brings your lips to his once again, softly kissing them before he moves down your neck, lightly scraping your skin with his elongated fangs.

You gasp his name, a whispered plea, and he can no longer deny the thirst that burns inside him like a fever and without warning he embeds his fangs in your soft flesh.

For that one brief moment all desire leaves your body and is replaced with an innate terror at the realization of what’s happening. With a weak push on his chest you try to get away but it’s too late and before the cry of anguish can leave your parted lips you sink into an inky blackness, the feeling of ecstasy creeping over you like a veil, shrouding all else in shadow.

@book-dragon-13 @dreamlessinparis @lookiamtrying @loki-laufeyson-1054 @goldylions @seitmai @randomfandompenguin @hiddles-rose​ @flordeamatista​

[natsuyuki-w]

Not one of the boys

Twisted wonderland cast realizes that (Yuu) is a girl.

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 Featuring: Idia and Ortho - Sebek and Silver

The dark figure in our dorm's yard was unmistakable, and like in his prior appearances, I jogged to him as soon as I noticed.

- VDC you say? Are you actually trying to invite me to this?- - Why yes...The boys have been working hard, I assure you, it's stunning! And well... As fun, as it is following your "Will-o'-the-wisp", I would like to be around you more. - and then backed - Only if you want to of course! -

Much as his Fae companion, Tsunotarou laughed at my expenses leaving me with my lingering smile and owlish confused eyes. - You really seem to know no fear. - he smiled broadly - Very well. I humbly accept your invitation.- and I smiled back, hoping that he would not just bully me after.

- Will you be going on stage? - - Ah no! I'm their "manager", as Vil likes to call me. - - mmm a shame...- I chuckled flustered - Crowley didn't want to risk other schools finding out I am a girl. You never know what accident can happen. Ha ha ha - - Mm yes I can see that. Lilia told me he discovered it accidentally as well. -

I thought back to each event. Practically everyone was surprised, and I started feeling a little insecure - ...Tsunotaro, you think...Am I perhaps not feminine enough? - And he threw me a weird look - I mean, nobody ever noticed till seeing my... More prominent features. And is not like I'm going so much out of my way to hide it! So you know...- and I scratched the back of my head.

He hummed and smiled beautifully - No, I think you're plenty. - his words without an inch of tease - I think the beauty of your femininity is enhanced by your boyish charm.- ... - Wai..what!? - - I'm looking forward to the day of the show Goodnight Yuu.- *puff* and he left me standing in a blushing mess.

- Tsunotaro thinks I am beautiful...- I sighed dreamily - and he looked happy, I'm glad.-

Trope

A couple of days before the culture fair I made my way to Mr. S's Mystery Shop - Gooood morning Sam! How is it going? - - Hello (Yuu), very well thank you. Radiant as always are you? hahaha. - - Of course! My delivery has arrived yet? - I scanned the shelves. - The pile is right there next to the Grimoire. - he pointed. - You almost caught them this time. -

- Uff... I don't understand why they're so... slippery. They've been so kind to sell all those manga for such a low price. I would really like to thank them face to face no? - - They are elusive indeed. - commented Sam - Sorry, but he begged me multiple times not to say a word. - and winked. He wasn't sorry at all, he just enjoyed seeing my frustration. - Yeah yeah... I'm not here just for those; we need to refill our team. - and I handed him the list of ingredients.

---

- Another pile? - Commented Grim. - I know right?- completely missing his point. - And for like 500 Madol??? - - Shopping again Trickster? - I nodded happily to Rook - Have you seen them this time? - - Nah. Again, they ran away immediately. - I climbed the stairs to pose my new collection - And it's... so frustrating? Like sometimes they go for an hour via chat, talking about what I should watch or read, his thoughts and theories... but then they shut down completely "Sry I'm such an otaku lmao bye.'" and avoid me for days. -

- Would you like me to do a little research? - asked the hunter with a sharp smile. -...no...tho, thank you for...the thought. I guess. - I patted his shoulder awkwardly. What I didn't know then was that he already discovered the identity of my seller. - But why give away all those books anyway? - pondered Grim. - Apparently bought a stock of Mangas and he owned already some of the series. They're "sharing the words of those artworks for the greater good". Something like that. -

---

On the day of the festival, me and Grim joined the booth check team. Entered the boardgames club exhibit we found a tall boy with long hair like flames sulking in a corner of the class. - Ahh, two hours left until the research presentation...- -... Idia, what are you doing at a place like that? - frowned Riddle. - It's called anxiety. - I mumbled.

- Uwah!!! Riddle master!!! Why are you here? - he jumped. - M-master? - - Fist of steal even outside the dorm eh? - I nudged the redhead on the side. He frowned at me and taking advantage of his distraction I saw the awkward boy nodding profusely. - Are you ready for the research presentation?- turned back the little tyrant. - Y-you don't have to worry. Just wait and see. - responded the other.

I stared for a moment in thought, making him even more fidgety than before - Are you perhaps... Ortho's brother? - - Sigh... *Eh-hem Y-yes. - he exhaled relieved. - 'Knew it I saw somewhere that blue hair! I have to say, after seeing him "draw a sword" defending your honor at the VCD auditions, I was very curious about meeting you. - - I-well-there's n-nothing i-i-interesting aab-b-bout m-me...I CAUGHT THE INTEREST OF A NORMIE IKEMEN????? - he mumbled hiding from my view.

- Riddle Roseharts, Trey Clover, Grim, hello! Of course, I'll always be there for Nii-san, he's a genius, (Yuu) (Wander)! - appeared the brother in question before I could protest the title of normie. - (YUU) (WANDER)??? - Idia jumped back but quickly covered his mouth and his back faced us all for a second time. He sneaked a look from his shoulder, caught my eyes, and the flames on his head turned pink. My companions looked me over questioningly, but seeing my expression just as confused, they searched for answers in his most trusted subject.

*Blank stare.* - W-well...*eh-hem Hi Ortho! I'm sure you speak the truth about your brother, I'm looking forward to hearing the...- - ...(Yuu) (Wander) - interrupted me once more in a softer tone. The four of us stared back and forth at the pair in search of answers.

- But it's great! - suddenly quipped Ortho. - Nii-san don't you understand? Is like in that Shojo where the girl in disguise in the boy academy becomes friends with her crush and...- - W-W-WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT ORTHO??? - The floating boy started to chant robotically. - (Yuu) (Wander) has sent at 09:45 a.m., Friday 2...- - I KNOW WHO HE IS BUT WHAT GIRL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT??? - - (Yuu) (Wander), student at Night Raven College, is a non-magical human being. Gender Female, height...-

- Stooop - I interrupted the chaotic theatric playing before our eyes. - 1, How was I unaware of sending messages to...you... - but the teenager was no longer with us, his soul probably left his body, and the now empty shell lay on the ground stiff...- ...and 2, when did you find out about me, Ortho? Being a girl that is. - I got closer to check on the dorm's leader's well-being. Tho, sensing my nearby presence he recovered immediately and ran out in a string of apologies. His hair turned a Barbie pink.

- I... Hope his presentation goes well. The magic, engineering that he specialized in has a lot of interesting articles about modern magic. So let's hope this...predicament hasn't caused too much brain damage. - pondered Riddle. - I'm a bit worried, but I'm sure he is going to recover. - and the little Sheoud turned back to us.

- So... What just happened exactly? - trailed off Grim. - You asked: 1, how were you unaware of sending messages to my brother? Nii-san has been chatting with (Yuu)San under the nickname of "Gloomy Samurai" in the second-hand shopping app: Twyst. - *GASP! I reacted dramatically - He was my generous dealer!!!! - - What was he dealing to you??? - Riddle panicked already picturing me falling into the drug club. - One launched Man, flexible cover edition from 01 to volume 23, Junior High attack, redesigned edition, flexible cover, complete... - - Mangas Riddle, Mangas. - I reassured.

- And for number 2: I scanned and stored your physical information when we met the first time. - he confessed nonchalantly. - That's... Fascinating intimidating. - I commented, eyes wide open. - And what was that Shojo girl in a boy academy... - teased Trey. - Please Ortho, don't answer that.- I flashed the green-haired boy a sharp gaze.

I had the impression Gloomy Samurai would've shut me down completely from this day on, and if before there was little possibility of him wanting to meet up in RL, now... stupid to even take it into consideration. - Say Ortho, what's your brother's favorite food? - If I couldn't thank him with me present physically or digitally, a gift would've sufficed.

Title

- TSUNOTARO????? - Sebek was in a tantrum.

- You too? - I murmured in disbelief once they finished their back and forth - Tsunotaro, can I confirm a suspicion of mine? - he smiled and nodded curious about what was going on in that small brain of mine. - This is just a stretch... But is it perhaps that you are searching gazes different from "Mighty prince" or "Terrifying magic user"? I mean why come to a public school otherwise right? -

His faithful knight threw again insults, but the subject himself stayed quiet. Silence needed to be fulfilled for my brain to function so I rumbled even more, in search of an understandable response from the boy - You know,...People can be so focused on What we are, instead of the Who. I mean I thought of it because I saw in us some similarities...Of course, is totally on a different level and type,...but, you know,... I can see a behavior change when my friends discover I'm a girl. And it's...- - WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT??? - Sebek screamed and became a blushing mess.

Silver widened his eyes in realization. - The infirmary, it wasn't a dream...- and pink gradually made its way on his face. I flew a hand on my mouth. - I got lost in my thoughts. - Malleus petted my hair chuckling while Grim clapped his paws with a flat face - It could've gone worse - I enquired to the cat - It could've rained...- I joked nervously.

- NOW EVERYTHING IS CLEAR! You have been luring our master! - screamed Sebek - That's why he has permitted you so much! For sure, under that innocent cute look, you're hiding some secret spell, seducing him you little witch. And grumble, grumble, grumble... - - I would take this as offense honestly - I murmured to the prince. - I would take that as a compliment, cute innocent witch, fufufufu.- he teased.

After recovering from my blush, he was still on fire with his ranting. So I decided to suffocate it with my trashing around - Doll, I'm not stealing your man dah. - - Wha...- As I predicted, his voice died stunned. - Not this again...- groaned Grim recalling the joke Catfights between me and my ginger friend.

- This relationship is completely consensual. - I gestured, and perplexed but very amused Malleus nodded - See? And now, look at ya. - I returned to Sebek - Chasing after him, seeking attention - and with a click of my tongue I concluded - so desperate. - - You... Never stop to surprise me child of man. -

---

Earthquake magnitude 6.2 in the Isle of Sages Possible causes: tectonic plates moved by repeated sound waves with abnormal peaks of decibels. Location: Night Raven Collage.

---

They say that I'm a witch And that I weave a spell Well, I'll be a son of a I don't know what Well, let me tell you brother I'd rather be burned as a witch than never be burned at all (I'd rather be burned as a witch - Eartha Kitt)

*Eh-hem so... What happened? - inquired Crowley. Both me and Ruggie despite the clear frustration of the headmaster, sat nonchalantly, being confident in our innocence.

~

I roamed my eyes on one of the topper shelves in the library holding on a ladder to reach them better. - What are you doing up there (Yuu)? - I heard a whisper from the ground. - Oh! Hi Ruggie! Just searching for my way home. What about you? - Maybe I could find some documents about magical transportation or alternative universes. - Ehmm okay(!?) Me? Same usual, Leona's chores. I'm taking some books for him or he'll just forget to do his research. - - Lazy ass... - I snorted reaching for another book. - Leona. That's who he is. *Shshshsh.-

His eyes then darted down. On the topic of asses. - *Eh-hem... Can you lend me a hand? I think I saw one of the books I need up there. - - Oh sure! Which one?- I responded. - There on the third, no no the fourth down,... Yep, A little more on the right...- - This one? - I glanced back. - No no the other one on the left. *Shshshhshs -

Yep, TOTALLY looking at the books.

* SBAM I jumped down. - AARGH DON'T HIT ME! - and neither of us expected the disaster after that.

~

- That's what you get looking at my boogie! - - YOU WERE TRYING TO THROW THAT BOOK AT ME! I can't believe you chicks! Thinking you have permission to use violence on men, am I right? - - NO I WASN'T! I just jumped down, You scared off yourself and hit the shelf on your own!... And don't deflect!!! You were the one scheming to... -

- SILENCE!!! - Crowley's strong voice covered both of ours. - Ruggie. - he called out sternly. The ears of the hyena were now flat waiting for the worse. - By "chicks" you mean,...girls? - he then trailed his eyes on me with that scary glowing gaze of his. Ruggie thought about it for a while and then smirked. - Yes. I meant girls. - he probably thought the Crow would get too distracted, so he could make a run out of his disaster. - That's quite an interesting predicament (Yuu)... Didn't I warn you to take secrecy? How is that this dear student know?-

- You... Didn't know, headmaster? - I blinked confused. - Know what? - I caught him unprepared. - *ps... What are you doing???- whispered-yelled Ruggie. Sure, he wanted for me to be scolded for HIM knowing, but he didn't expect... - I thought either Azul told you or you had noticed already. - I responded. - Aw. That's nice! It means they really did maintain the secret. - I reached the ahs blonde boy and patted his cheek. - I have such good friends! - - H-hey!It's because there was no advantage in telling anybody.- Embarrassed, he drove my hand away.

- (Yuu).- - Yes? - - EXPLAIN. NOW -

Finished this series!!!! Ruggie was with Silver the less brought up in the "discovery timeline", so I thought it might've been nice to include them a little more with two mini stories (Silver's is in part 3).

Malleus, on the other hand no, he didn't need more timing. But my simping for him did.

I hope you had a fun time with lil old me! Wish you the best, 'till next time! ✨💙

[abiiors]

Veee could you write something with matty where reader is also an artist (a way less known one) and its just pure fluff with both of them being inspired by one another?

Feel free to ignore ofc!!🫶🫶🫶

muse - matty x reader

a/n: this took a very different direction than originally planned and got slightly existential sorry about that 💀💀 but i hope you like it regardless <33

divider by @/cafekitsune

cw: mentions of smut, talks of death, general fluff and sappiness.

the artist flicks through the feature.

her name is printed in big letters on the cover of the monthly issue, her face--smiling and excited--next to the centrepiece of her latest art collection: cupid and psyche. the painting is stunning, a riot of bold colours and patterns but the at the centre is a man, his face hidden, his jet black curls tousled. his body is relaxed, she thinks there's an air of carefreeness about him.

and she'd know that for sure, after all that day is etched into her memory.

when she feels a familiar pair of arms wrap around her, she smiles.

"you're rather proud of the feature, aren't you?" matty's voice holds a little teasing note. she's stared at the feature for close to thirty minutes now, discreetly pinching herself in the same spot on her arm. (it sports a tiny, barely-there bruise now)

"good," matty nuzzles his face into her neck, softly kissing the skin, "you should be. the exhibit was fucking gorgeous."

"mmm, because you were the centrepiece?" fondly, she teases back, but the memory flashes in front of her eyes--the bustling art gallery, matty in a corner, wearing a plain hoodie and jeans and a cap hiding half of his face, absolutely brimming with pride.

she remembers the journalists asking about the man in all the paintings, the one whose face no one can see. "he's my muse," she says every time, "this collection is dedicated to him."

"someone's going to connect the dots," matty walks around her, settling himself next to her on the sofa. instantly, they rearrange themselves into a tangle--her legs on his lap, his arm around her, her head on his shoulders, his head on hers. "if they looked carefully, they'll make the connection."

"matty, we have been each other's muse for years and no one's found out. i don't think they're going to start now. besides," she snorts, "i think the art world thinks i've made you up in my mind. won't be the first time an artist's gone insane."

matty laughs. "maybe you have. you always say i'm too good to be true."

when she can't think of a retort, she sticks her tongue out, shrieking away when he smothers her in kisses.

"seriously though, it's fun writing about you. singing about you. and i love seeing myself through your eyes." suddenly matty sounds all sober and serious. she thinks his voice even wavers slightly at the end. he blinks quickly though, and just like that the brightness in his eyes is gone.

"love it when you write about me too," she teases, "love being called a gemini and a sexy girl, such poetry."

"oi! i put my heart into that! it's a precious memory for me."

"the memory of us fucking in the new bath for the first time?"

matty giggles like a teenager, hiding his face in her hair. it's fun to rile him up like this, so she continues, poking him in the ribs. "or waking up the next day with a head cold because we stayed in the cold water for so long hmm?"

"you took care of me though, and so i think you deserve to have a song written about you. or a whole album works too i think." then matty tuts. "actually, no. don't wanna tell anyone it's about you, that'll ruin the magic."

"ruin the magic?"

"of being your muse and having you as mine. i think a hundred years from now, when people would see your art as the artwork of this generation, and my music as the tune of our times--"

"tune of our times..."

"yeah, quit laughing at me!" matty flicks her nose, quickly kissing it after. "so when my music becomes the tune of our times, i think people will see it then. they will make the connections."

secretly, she loves the idea--that their love might transcend time and space through their art. that decades from now their names might be whispered together, even though they aren't just yet.

"of course, we'll be buried together by then. same grave by the way, very romeo and juliet of us."

"that's morbid!" she laughs sharply, "what will the epitaph say?"

matty hums for a bit, thinking, his eyes flutter shut for a second or two almost like he needs to focus on the half formed thought until it's a complete sentence. then he excitedly clears his throat and gently holds her face between his hands.

"here lie the artist and the muse; inspiring each other in death as they did in life."

[1-49]

The top 7 things you don’t want to be doing when in Paris.

Imagine,

the brightest, most perfect winter’s day imaginable. Crisp, chilly, and beautiful. Warm cafés, busy streets, and gentle breezes ──── stellar architecture, metros, and museums. If anything, Paris is the most magical place on earth, but having Sungchan there makes it even more so.

That being said,

here is a list of the Top 8 things and situations to look out for, & don’t indulge in when you are in Paris if you don’t want to fall in love. A doomed guide for both tourists and locals, eh.

tags: fluff, love, sure it carries its angst though ⁝ fun concept to approach given i wasn’t going to write a fic nor it fits exactly into headcanon, so yeah. he has made me dizzy with his paris photos im sooo sorry. wc. 3k

Fan fact: The French term ‘Coup de foudre’ describes when someone feels completely blown away by someone they have recently met. In literal terms, it means lightning strike. If you have been ‘struck by lightning’ in this way, a common feeling is that you can tell the person everything bc they just get you

Good luck!

THE CRASH

A stunning stranger seated a short distance away from you in a small cafe is always a threat—but this is not just any stunning stranger. As you converse with your friend, he’s also conversing with his group of friends. Passing phones and a camera make their giggles sound like a good time. 

Every chance you get, you glance at him while speaking with your friend because it’s so tempting to do so. Little sparks shoot out the moment the stare is returned; when your gazes meet halfway; when he’s caught, too, for naively trying to get your attention.

When your friend catches on to the fact that you’re looking at what is behind her rather than her.

When she turns around to reinvestigate the situation and notices that he’s staring in your direction, she instantly understands.

When she gives him a smile and turns back to face you, who moved too slowly to stop her.

The stranger which then believes that you both had a conversation about him.

The friend who first exposed you is also the one who is now pushing you to use the restroom; for if he meets you halfway again, chances are good he’s into you too.

Her point is validated when you find yourself in a small hallway, pretending to scroll through your phone, as he moves toward you.

Scents of rich vanilla, chocolate, coffee, and wine fill the dimly lit secluded part of the café, which has burgundy walls. His physique is too large to fit in the narrow hallway. His eyes and smile translate love. His confession is full of tenderness, affection, & promising good times.

THE ‘NO’ PLAN

It’s already outside of your plan to plan the remainder of your day. Order breaks out. Chaos ensues. What was already set in motion was interrupted by him, a tourist named Sungchan. But a Paris show-off won’t be a show-off without a museum, so there goes that theory. 

In any case, a museum or art gallery is a must, so thirty minutes later, you are showing him around one of the many museums. The grand rooms echo with silence as you hope that the angels are praying for you to make it to the end of the tour. It’s simply so overwhelming to be next to such beauty. You can’t stop thinking how much he fits the scene. 

The line of his nose; his lips; the shadows of his collarbones; the wrinkles of his smile; the flow of your hair; the trickle of his laugh—for all of these, he is worthy of a museum.

So when you finally get your hands on the previously ‘passed-around’ camera, an exhibit of blue curiosities rests on his shoulders. Quickly, you take some pictures of him with the Rothko piece. It’s impossible to determine which is more beautiful—him or the artwork. 

There are repercussions for that, as he leads you to allow him to take a picture of you—his ulterior motive, though, to have a picture of you forever. You’ll be with him no matter what, even after he leaves this city and you behind.

JUST TOURISTY THINGS

Time will separate the two of you, just as a river divides Paris, but as you continue to stroll beside the Seine, where musicians sing of hopeless love and painters craft their works in the open, the issue of time is not a priority. If anything, all the time in the world at this moment is yours.

He grabs your hands and spins the two of you around, his hair brushed with sun-kissed shades of cinnamon brown. Claiming he isn’t immune to music, so you can’t be critical and should just follow his example.

But when the spinning becomes too intense and he feels lightheaded, he tries to steady himself by staring into your eyes for longer than he should. Your proximity scares you, but you’re concerned and ask if he’s okay. 

A smile appears on his face as a result of your concern for him, while a heavenly presence is tipping from his eyes as he’s making a promise that he’s good, if not better than ever.

A smile that inspires hope & makes you believe. A smile that undoubtedly had great power to bring you both to this point. He’s beautiful in every sense. Mentality, personalty, appearance.

He’s even surpassing the Eiffel Tower in terms of beauty with ease!

Your captured images, with him as the subject, create the most ideal postcards, and as you’re showing them to him, it’s when a feeling of sad nostalgia envelops you prior to even parting ways with him. You come to the realization that you desire to spend more time with him, not just one day.

But all you get is one day... 

A magic day... that is gradually starting to turn into a night—and as the two of you walk on the fresh-washed gravel paths through the Luxembourg Gardens, the wind becomes clearer and sharper.

Even the bare trees, which you’re used to seeing against the sky, seem to be feeling the warmth of his touch as he insists on pushing and spreading his fingers inside your palm. His vibrance makes even the leafless trees feel less lonely. He takes your hand in such a way that you aren’t even allowed to give him a warning look. Hand in hand, you have no choice but to chase after him.

NO DESTINATION BACK UP

Does it even matter that he doesn’t know the city? 

The ecstasy you are running on is surley telling you that it’s all about getting lost and  discovering yourself in unfamiliar places—and that’s all because of him.

The startled look in this stranger’s eyes as you two nearly cross a street at a red light due to his rushing… 

As he begins to apologize while biting his lower lip, claiming he didn’t mean to. 

His deer-eyes in the headlights are all that you can focus on really. It’s tempting to say, ‘It’s okay,’ but there is something about his apologetic expression that makes you feel as though he’s completely enclosing you in his gaze. 

His eyes are hugging you while he apologizes. It has been a long time since you felt something like that—felt completely safe. Sincerely, and risk-free. He’s a walking green light. So then, it’s a bit sadistic of you to wish for his apology to last longer. 

But how can you not?

When his hand squeezes yours even harder, and he turns all starry eyes while biting his lip in fear?

Someone you would definitely want to try and fit into your pocket, regardless of his height or width.

CRAMPED SPACES

When the cruelness of the night finally reaches your bones, chasing a tiny, romantic restaurant is the only way to soothe the cold.

The warmth of the atmosphere meshes with his gray cardigan, and you find yourself moving more and more into his comfort zone due to the crowded space, where many are seeking refuge for the same reason as you two. 

His rich scent fills the air around you and his knees keep touching yours due to the close proximity. The wine glass dangles in his hand and his lips become more and more affected, picking up a cherry hue.

His collarbones exhibit every movement of his body, and for whatever reason, you feel an insatiable urge to reach for the soft, grey wool and uncover more.

You’re so invested in this delicate area it’s making you feel absolutely irrational. The constant spreading of his hand through his lush hair and pushing it behind is only adding to your obsession. Regardless of how often he does this, the silky hair flies back into his eyes every time.

He has this habit of dipping his small fork into your chocolate mousse, taking a bite, then flirting while he listens to you talk and plays with the fork, letting the sharp tips sink into his soft lips.

The gesture merely begs for your attention, so in order to stay true to yourself, you greet him by clinking glasses with him. But as soon as his glass touches yours, you have to look him in the eyes again and be so sincere... You lose either way.

This gorgeous person’s natural flirtatious charm can’t be escaped. His focus shifting between your lips and eyes as he attentively listens to you is quite possibly the hottest thing about him. 

And although he insists on practising some French words, he continually mispronounces ‘croissants’ and ‘creme brulee’. He got ‘Bonjour’, ‘Bonsoir’, and ‘baguette’ right, which is worthy of notice; and the greatest reward would be a peck on the cheek, which he hasn’t yet received...

The fork remains sunk in his lips. If there’s one dessert that can be described as the ‘most scrumptious’, it’s him.

UNDERGROUND MISHAPS

Running with him in hand is a somewhat exciting experience. You aren’t sure where he got his stamina, but you’re sprinting down the stairs and will have some downtime when you two board the next metro.

When you reach underground platform though, a sea of tourists waits impatiently to go home or explore the outside world.

His hand carefully slides around your waist as you wait, standing side by side, your chests exploding from all the running. Whether it’s to protect you or keep you to himself, the intent is unclear.

And just as you’re about to look up to give him another warning glance, you realize that you’ve already forgotten how many there were. His adorable facial expressions are the reason you never succeed.

Obviously, the wine has increased his energy—his feelings are in his eyes. 

His features quickly and suddenly take on an emotive tone. A line appears between his brows and a hint of melancholy on his face as recognition dawns. Maybe the effects of the end of the day are finally starting to catch up with him.

You realize that he’s a lot of fun—the type of person who always sees the glass half full but who is also, presumably, grounded enough to realize that something is in the way and the glass isn’t quite enough full. Though he’ll eventually have to face it... saying goodbye to you is probably the biggest treat.

His hand is trembling inside yours...

... whether from anger, sadness, or excitement, it can be all of them or then

“Sungchan,”

You barely have time to finish what you started before he pulls you in and gives you a hug. Metros, come and go. People are walking past you, but he freezes this moment.

His coat’s lapels seem kind enough to part away, giving you more personal space and allowing your ear to fall directly on his heart.

His hand falls effortlessly over your head, as soft as a snowflake as he says, “It’d ruin everything if we said anything. Let’s not.” He carasses your hair and then plants a kiss.

A hug so strong that it keeps you safe from the passing of time. 

However, even this beam of sunshine has a heart, and it rains. Not even he has the complete ability to stop time from passing. The earth orbits, and the leaves dissipate.

Though what he can do is, 

he can certainly seize some of the light in the circumstance as he pulls on your hand once more, making the promise of, “Trust me.”

FALLING IN LOVE

There is definitely a sense of a ‘Trust me’ irony in the situation however, about how you won’t fall in love with him.

He seems to be pointing you in the direction of the photo booth at the end of the platform, which he noticed while your bodies were merging together. 

You’re fairly certain that those will be your favourite, worst-ever photos of the two of you, but the only memory you can physically hug, so you decide not to argue.

Naturally, the cubicle is small, but what do you expect from a metro photo booth?

The sweet giant battles his height and shoulders to enter, and when he does, he just hovers above you, looking down. His palms pressed against two different walls, and his neck bent at an awkward angle because you have taken all the ‘what can hardly be called a’ seat. 

Like it is your fault, right?

With a tongue poke to his cheek and raised brows, he’s subtly advising you to do ‘this one thing.’

Like hell, “I’m not sitting in your lap,” you bat your eyelashes at him. 

“It’s too late to back out. Plus, I don’t think there’s any other way to make this work.”

The goofy grin morphs his whole face into what it would be to stand under the sun; his cheeks rise higher the more he shows teeth. He’s so cute. It melts your heart.

Your mouth stays open in shock as you say, “But it is you who wanted this,” before you endearingly defend yourself. “This was your idea.” How very ‘trust me’ of him. In the end, you accept. “Okay, fine,” you sulk while pouting.

Satisfied, he clicks his tongue. You both knew that you would accept; you just wanted to have some fun, didn’t you?

You eventually create room for him to sit, but when it comes time for you to sit, you hesitate. But then you feel his hands dragging your waist down, and the next thing you know, you’re in his lap. He has lost all patience.

You sigh with annoyance, but even you know it is all a front. 

Now hesitant to move, your back remains pressed against his chest, and you’re even halfway there trying to maintain your balance on your feet instead of lounging comfortably in his lap. However, his back hug is particularly effective because it feels like his palm is pressing deeper into your tummy, encouraging you to relax even more into him.

His thighs radiate unnecessary heat, and his warm breath tickles the side of your neck as his chin rests on your shoulder. He teases you, whispering, “You can face me you know, I don’t bite.”

There is an absolute anarchy, there beneath his palm, in your belly. Not the whispering tone!! 

You tilt your head back (ironically, letting it rest where his shoulder and neck meet), gazing at the near ceiling and mentally calculating the number of seconds until you lose your mind.

He rests with you, for a minute, or two… his heart densely kicking in your back, but you swear it’s a peaceful moment. He’s able to magically stop the flow of time, no matter what!

Perhaps outside of the small world that you two inhabit, the metro passes by for the fifth time, and perhaps the waiting area is swept by cleaners once more while your shoes peek out from under the curtain, threatening to blow your cover.

However, time never really stops—especially in this place, the City of Light, Paris, a city that never sleeps.

“Let—um” His voice cracks for the first time before he finally says, “Uh—Let us take those pictures.”

You shut your eyes, allowing the angst of the situation to have its way with you before turning to face him.

His brows appear flat, and the crack between them is even deeper than it used to be. Even his lips are fuller than they used to be. Or could it simply be the face-to-face intimacy that is causing them to appear in such a way?

All this time, you thought it was just a playful lust, an undeniable attraction, when, in fact, what you’re finding is love—love looking straight into your eyes.

You no longer need to hold it within you. You just admit it, completely aware that nothing will change but that it will undoubtedly have some significance because it’s better to let things out than to hold them inside.

“Sungchan,” you pause for a moment, “I don’t want you to leave.”

Like you haven’t already felt them, he takes your hand and puts it over his heart, allowing you to feel the butterflies surging through his chest. Your lips to your eyes is the route he prefers to travel most. “I don’t want to leave either,” he admits voice light and airy.

As you look at him, every time the photo booth camera flashes a bright light, the butterflies burst rhythmically—because of that, and as much at the magic, and at the calculated touch of a girl who, in the past, had learned to trust no one. Yet, here you are, choosing to trust someone you have just met & won’t see again.

Your hands tremble against his cheeks as you gently cup his face and begin your slow, careful inspection. His tense muscles slowly relax under your touch as you run a finger across the peak of his eyebrow.

You feel an influx of emotions as you begin to understand that this person is an angel. You’re tracing every inch of him into your brain—soaking up every star in his eyes and every mole on his face—because an angel like this can never be met twice...

His greatest quality, you think, even in this kind of ‘damned’ situation, is that he can’t stay serious; a smile lights up his face. The only word that adequately expresses how you feel is wanting to ‘devour’ the damned smile that lingers close to your lips. He’s irresistible.

Cute or sexy are terms that are so confusing with him. You aren’t sure to which he’s supposed to be leaning towards. It’s driving you crazy. He simply can not be defined.

And the more he holds you, the more confident he gets. He started off politely, treating you like a paper bird, and then he abruptly stops apologizing. His lashes start to make out slowly with the narrow look he gives you. His thumb glides over your bottom lip. There is only one meaning to it.

Conversely, the photos taken are sitting in the photo outlet. You whisper, “Sungchan,” gesturing to the pictures and apparently indicating that ‘your work here is done.’ 

His firm grip on your jaw, however, fiercely brings your face into his. His winey breath is coating your lips.

“But,” you knit your brows, “our series of pho—”

His index finger stops your lips from moving mid-sentence. “Let’s make another one.”

“You—you’re getting too comfortable in this,” You stagger over what you are saying as his nose brushes against yours, “for-for well, for something that will never happen again.” 

“That’s exactly why I need those photos,” he says, chewing the inside of his cheeks in response to your somewhat insensitive comment.

“And we—And we,” you keep breaking, “We’ve been her—

“Can I kiss you?” He brutally cuts you off.

His sugary lower lip is already pressed against yours. It no longer interests him what you’re saying. It’s a quiet question, but there is some dangerously real intent behind it.

Yes, but can he beg for a kiss?

Sure,

as if he’s breathing in the air that he knows he’ll be missing out on, his lips remain waiting for a sign before they get messy.

His thumb ignites ‘instant fire’ in every pore on your cheek with each precise circle. It’s more like he is consuming you in advance. 

Your thoughts are numb, and your heart is stuck in your throat. You don’t want to forget any part of it all, and you’re bound to in the high you’re experiencing right now... He was right when he advised it to be documented.

The gaping mouths. The tender lip-stroking. The deep, slow breathing. The hot air exchange.

His teeth clenched in pain. The energy he surrounds you with is so intense.

Your “Fuck!”

& Sungchan’s “Please,”

occur simultaneously.

© 𝟭-𝟰𝟵. do not copy, translate, repost, and modify my works.