#honestly not much to say but fun paint colors

[vanroesburg]

a shinichi for painting practice from a while ago

[ID: Kudo Shinichi, a teenager with blue eyes and short brown hair with a cowlick, sits in a wire chair. He is wearing an indigo sweater with beige pants and black sneakers. He has one foot propped up on the chair, an elbow on his knee, and a hand against his cheek. He looks bored. The background is tan, and there are visible brush strokes. End ID.]

[qalrey]

rainbowz x3

[alfheimr]

My Favorite Cheap Art Trick: Gradient Maps and Blending Modes

i get questions on occasion regarding my coloring process, so i thought i would do a bit of a write up on my "secret technique." i don't think it really is that much of a secret, but i hope it can be helpful to someone. to that end:

this is one of my favorite tags ive ever gotten on my art. i think of it often. the pieces in question are all monochrome - sort of.

the left version is the final version, the right version is technically the original. in the final version, to me, the blues are pretty stark, while the greens and magentas are less so. there is some color theory thing going on here that i dont have a good cerebral understanding of and i wont pretend otherwise. i think i watched a youtube video on it once but it went in one ear and out the other. i just pick whatever colors look nicest based on whatever vibe im going for.

this one is more subtle, i think. can you tell the difference? there's nothing wrong with 100% greyscale art, but i like the depth that adding just a hint of color can bring.

i'll note that the examples i'll be using in this post all began as purely greyscale, but this is a process i use for just about every piece of art i make, including the full color ones. i'll use the recent mithrun art i made to demonstrate. additionally, i use clip studio paint, but the general concept should be transferable to other art programs.

for fun let's just start with Making The Picture. i've been thinking of making this writeup for a while and had it in mind while drawing this piece. beyond that, i didn't really have much of a plan for this outside of "mithrun looks down and hair goes woosh." i also really like all of the vertical lines in the canary uniform so i wanted to include those too but like. gone a little hog wild. that is the extent of my "concept." i do not remember why i had the thought of integrating a shattered mirror type of theme. i think i wanted to distract a bit from the awkward pose and cover it up some LOL but anyway. this lack of planning or thought will come into play later.

note 1: the textured marker brush i specifically use is the "bordered light marker" from daub. it is one of my favorite brushes in the history of forever and the daub mega brush pack is one of the best purchases ive ever made. highly recommend!!!

note 2: "what do you mean by exclusion and difference?" they are layer blending modes and not important to the overall lesson of this post but for transparency i wanted to say how i got these "effects." anyway!

with the background figured out, this is the point at which i generally merge all of my layers, duplicate said merged layer, and Then i begin experimenting with gradient maps. what are gradient maps?

the basic gist is that gradient maps replace the colors of an image based on their value.

so, with this particular gradient map, black will be replaced with that orangey red tone, white will be replaced with the seafoamy green tone, etc. this particular gradient map i'm using as an example is very bright and saturated, but the colors can be literally anything.

these two sets are the ones i use most. they can be downloaded for free here and here if you have csp. there are many gradient map sets out there. and you can make your own!

you can apply a gradient map directly onto a specific layer in csp by going to edit>tonal correction>gradient map. to apply one indirectly, you can use a correction layer through layer>new correction layer>gradient map. honestly, correction layers are probably the better way to go, because you can adjust your gradient map whenever you want after creating the layer, whereas if you directly apply a gradient map to a layer thats like. it. it's done. if you want to make changes to the applied gradient map, you have to undo it and then reapply it. i don't use correction layers because i am old and stuck in my ways, but it's good to know what your options are.

this is what a correction layer looks like. it sits on top and applies the gradient map to the layers underneath it, so you can also change the layers beneath however and whenever you want. you can adjust the gradient map by double clicking the layer. there are also correction layers for tone curves, brightness/contrast, etc. many such useful things in this program.

let's see how mithrun looks when we apply that first gradient map we looked at.

gadzooks. apologies for eyestrain. we have turned mithrun into a neon hellscape, which might work for some pieces, but not this one. we can fix that by changing the layer blending mode, aka this laundry list of words:

some of them are self explanatory, like darken and lighten, while some of them i genuinely don't understand how they are meant to work and couldn't explain them to you, even if i do use them. i'm sure someone out there has written out an explanation for each and every one of them, but i've learned primarily by clicking on them to see what they do.

for the topic of this post, the blending mode of interest is soft light. so let's take hotline miamithrun and change the layer blending mode to soft light.

here it is at 100% opacity. this is the point at which i'd like to explain why i like using textured brushes so much - it makes it very easy to get subtle color variation when i use this Secret Technique. look at the striation in the upper right background! so tasty. however, to me, these colors are still a bit "much." so let's lower the opacity.

i think thats a lot nicer to look at, personally, but i dont really like these colors together. how about we try some other ones?

i like both of these a lot more. the palettes give the piece different vibes, at which point i have to ask myself: What Are The Vibes, Actually? well, to be honest i didn't really have a great answer because again, i didn't plan this out very much at all. however. i knew in my heart that there was too much color contrast going on and it was detracting from the two other contrasts in here: the light and dark values and the sharp and soft shapes. i wanted mithrun's head to be the main focal point. for a different illustration, colors like this might work great, but this is not that hypothetical illustration, so let's bring the opacity down again.

yippee!! that's getting closer to what my heart wants. for fun, let's see what this looks like if we change the blending mode to color.

i do like how these look but in the end they do not align with my heart. oh well. fun to experiment with though! good to keep in mind for a different piece, maybe! i often change blending modes just to see what happens, and sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. i very much cannot stress enough that much of my artistic process is clicking buttons i only sort of understand. for fun.

i ended up choosing the gradient map on the right because i liked that it was close to the actual canary uniform colors (sorta). it's at an even lower opacity though because there was Still too much color for my dear heart.

the actual process for this looks like me setting my merged layer to soft light at around 20% opacity and then clicking every single gradient map in my collection and seeing which one Works. sometimes i will do this multiple times and have multiple soft light and/or color layers combined.

typically at this point i merge everything again and do minor contrast adjustments using tone curves, which is another tool i find very fun to play around with. then for this piece in particular i did some finishing touches and decided that the white border was distracting so i cropped it. and then it's done!!! yay!!!!!

this process is a very simple and "fast" way to add more depth and visual interest to a piece without being overbearing. well, it's fast if you aren't indecisive like me, or if you are better at planning.

let's do another comparison. personally i feel that the hint of color on the left version makes mithrun look just a bit more unwell (this is a positive thing) and it makes the contrast on his arm a lot more pleasing to look at. someone who understands color theory better than i do might have more to say on the specifics, but that's honestly all i got.

just dont look at my layers too hard. ok?

[thecherrygod]

i told this guy what i dreamt about last night, bc once we had conversations about dreams and i told him id tell him the next one i have, and we are psychology students who happen to be dumbasses so he asked me if i thought i could interpret it bc of all the stuff that happened in it and i thought he was joking and i went “well its possible haha”. he asked me if i was comfortable doing so and telling him what i thought, but if i wasnt i could like. not tell him. my guy you have to tell me how much you actually wanna know about me as a person first

[eiightysixbaby]

i love it loud

word count: 6.5k+

pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: you get invited to corroded coffin’s halloween party with your best friend chrissy. you don’t anticipate on having much fun, but that changes when you meet eddie…

cw: 18+ ONLY - SMUT. alcohol consumption, a rogue billy tries to hit on reader, use of petnames, use of y/n (like maybe a few times), oral (f receiving), fingering (f), unprotected p in v - he pulls out tho!, brief description of reader’s costume but no mention of body type/etc.

You didn’t want to go to this party. Not really. Your best friend had insisted you come with her, because arriving alone would, in her words, be social suicide. Being invited to Corroded Coffin’s Halloween party was a big deal, she’d said, even though you know she was only invited because she’s been going out with the drummer. Of course he’s going to invite his girlfriend.

You hadn’t even had a plan for a costume, and with only a couple day’s notice you didn’t have the time to prepare something good. The stores were all picked over as far as Halloween costumes go, and so you went with the most basic, half-assed option you could’ve possibly selected.

You’re dressed as a cat.

It feels silly, it feels low-effort and stupid and basic, but here you are with your fluffy tail and soft felt ears, black high heels and whiskers painted on your face. A pink nose to top it all off. You did think you looked good, you had to admit, but it definitely wasn’t the costume you would’ve preferred. You awkwardly adjust your stockings as you step up to the front door of the large house, feeling horrendously out of place.

You glance at Chrissy beside you, her hippie costume bright and colorful - an extreme contrast to your all black attire.

“Okay, just texted Gareth that we’re here,” she says, slipping her phone into her bag. “Don’t look so thrilled,” she says sarcastically, pouting at you.

“Sorry I’m not exactly excited to be at a party where I know no one,” you say.

“You know me and Gareth,” she replies, looking at you like she’s confused.

“I barely know Gareth. And don’t act like the two of you won’t be running off to bang the second you get a chance,” you smile at her, knocking shoulders playfully.

“Listen… his friend Eddie, the lead singer, is super hot. Maybe you’ll get more than you bargained for tonight.”

“I don’t know, Chris. There’s going to be a million girls at this party, do I really want to be another notch on some rockstar’s belt?” you ponder.

She doesn’t get the chance to respond before the front door is swinging open in front of you. The figure on the other side is… Peter Criss. More like, Gareth dressed as Peter Criss. Fully outfitted in leather and silver studs, hair spray painted black with white and black cat makeup on his face. You laugh a little as you take him in, and he shoots you a teasing glare.

“Hey ladies,” he greets, pulling Chrissy in for a quick kiss. “Y/N, I’m so glad you decided to come.”

“You know Chris always gets what she wants,” you reply with a laugh, and he laughs with you, agreeing.

He steps to the side, ushering you both into the large foyer of the house. It’s decked out in Halloween decor; bats on the walls, fake cobwebs, hairy toy spiders with light-up red eyes. There’s orange and purple string lights hung about, and you’re honestly impressed with the detail. The house is clean, aside from the stray cup or plate left behind from the current party guests, and the decorations are carefully placed.

“Holy shit, you guys really did it up for the party,” you say, eyes wandering to every corner.

“Oh yeah, that’s all Eddie. He loves Halloween. It was his idea for us to dress like KISS,” Gareth says with a playful eye roll.

“Don’t complain, you look so good in that outfit…” Chrissy says, trailing a finger down his chest.

“I’ll have to give you the official house tour,” he says to your friend. “You coming too?” he asks you, but you shake your head.

“Think I’ll get myself a drink,” you say, sticking out your thumb in the direction of the kitchen.

“Sounds good. There’s stuff on the counter and a bar out back by the pool, you can go wherever you’d like,” Gareth says with a smile, and it’s genuine. “Make yourself at home, say hey if you see the other guys around! You can’t miss ‘em, they’ll be dressed like me,” he adds, and you laugh, waving them off as Chrissy tells you to text her if you need anything at all.

You wander into the open kitchen, pleased with the selection of liquor that awaits you. If you’re going to be spending the night alone, you might as well get pleasantly drunk, you think to yourself. People are scattered throughout the room, talking with their circles of friends and acquaintances. There’s a couple different punch bowls filled with various concoctions, each one labeled with the contents. You take your pick of the poison, scooping the liquid up with a ladle and filling your cup.

You scrunch your face as you take the first sip, lips pursing as you adjust to the bite of the alcohol. You glance around the kitchen, taking note of even more decorations as you slink into a corner alone. They seem to fill the whole house, seeping into the living room and the dining room, any area that you can see. Gareth had said it was all Eddie’s doing, and you find yourself growing more curious about the man in question. You really didn’t know anything about Corroded Coffin, didn’t care much to do any research, you only knew what Chrissy told you.

You know that Grant, the rhythm guitarist, has rich parents, and that his dad bought the house for the band to live in while they’re recording their album. Chrissy always says Grant’s the nerdiest of the bunch, insanely smart and very friendly. You know that Jeff, the bassist, is apparently a sweetheart, a bit shy but would give you the shirt off of his back, and you know that Eddie…. well, you know that he’s supposedly “super hot”. Other than that, you’re drawing a blank. Chrissy hasn’t said much about him at all, now that you really consider it. Maybe he’s an introvert and doesn’t come around often, or maybe he’s a complete dick. He is a rockstar, after all. And there’s plenty of pretty women in his house right now, so… you can gather a few assumptions, to say the least.

You don’t get much more time to ponder the subject before you hear loud, raucous laughter coming in through the sliding doors to the backyard. Two figures stumble in, but in the dim light you can’t get a good look right away.

“I was made for lovin’ you baaaabyyyyyy!” a voice booms, and you don’t need more confirmation that it comes from another member of the band.

“How many times are you gonna sing that tonight?” the other voice counters, and you finally see two unfamiliar men walking towards the kitchen, dressed like other members of KISS.

The annoyed voice comes from the stand-in Gene Simmons of the evening, a frizzy black wig on his head and the signature makeup on his face, making him stand out. He sticks his tongue out obnoxiously at the other man, eliciting a laugh from him. Your eyes flit over, then, to the taller figure. Your attention is immediately grabbed — he’s intriguing right away and you aren’t quite sure why. Tall, slim, with a head of shaggy hair that diminishes his need for a wig for the costume. He’s dressed like Paul Stanley, a black star around his eye, surrounded by a face otherwise full of white makeup. He’s not wearing a shirt, at all, just a thick black studded collar around his neck and leather pants. Chunky heeled boots are on his feet, making him appear taller than just about everyone else in the room.

And if he’s dressed like the singer of KISS, then you can only assume this is Eddie. The singer of Corroded Coffin.

“Oh fuck off, Jeff. Have a little fun! It’s Hallo-fucking-ween, dude,” presumably-Eddie says, leaning into Jeff’s space.

“Sorry my idea of fun isn’t listening to your drunk ass sing KISS songs, Ed,” Jeff says, and the nickname gives you confirmation that this is, in fact, your guy.

Eddie just so happens to look up in that moment, his eyes falling upon yours unintentionally. He smiles at you, genuinely smiles at you, all while playfully rolling his eyes at Jeff’s comment. You giggle into your plastic cup, feeling like the two of you are the only people in the room for a moment. He gives you a teeny little wave, the slightest wiggle of his fingers, and you feel your heart rate increase as you return it. What is wrong with you? You were going to blame the alcohol, for the time being.

The moment is gone as soon as it came, Eddie’s attention getting redirected. You watch in fascination as they pour drinks for themselves, easily greeting the other partygoers who come up to them, eager to talk to the hosts. There’s a swarm of girls around Eddie in thirty seconds flat, and your heart deflates, much to your own dismay. Why should it bother you? He doesn’t even know you, and you don’t know him. Chrissy’s implication that you might hit it off with Eddie tonight is letting you get too in your own head, you decide, trying to shake it off.

You scoff, watching as a girl dressed like a devil leans on the counter into Eddie’s space, pressing her breasts together as much as she can. Her fake fangs are exposed as she laughs too loud at something he says, her bright red lipstick accentuating her mouth. You want to internally criticize her and her basic costume, before you’re reminded of your imitation of the most basic furry friend to ever grace Halloween.

As if on cue, someone comes up behind you and yanks on your tail, making you jump. Your drink sloshes over the rim of the cup at the sudden motion, splashing against the front of your outfit. You spin on your heel, met with the face of an unfamiliar man, which really isn’t saying much since almost every face here is unfamiliar.

“Can I help you?” you snark, flattening your lips in a straight line.

“Woah, calm down, pussy cat. Don’t have to bring the claws out,” the man says, smirking at you as if he has genuinely no clue why you’re bothered.

He reaches one arm out, flattening his palm against the wall behind you and leaning his weight on it, towering over you. He smells like cigarettes and booze, and you watch as his tongue pokes out to wet his lips.

“If you don’t mind,” you snap. “I really need to go wash the liquor out of my costume. Asshole,” you mutter the last part, ready to make your exit when the stranger grabs your arm.

“Going so soon? I thought we’d make friends,” he smiles at you, blue eyes piercing down at you as you grow wildly more uncomfortable.

“I’ll pass,” you emphasize, stomping the heel of your boot down onto his foot.

He yelps in pain, releasing your arm and allowing you to speed-walk out of the crowded kitchen. You can see various pairs of eyes on you as you scurry out, and you can hear your victim cursing you out through the bass coming through the stereo.

You high-tail it out the back door, heels clicking aggressively on pavement as you push through more people surrounding the pool. You finally stop to calm yourself down when you find a lull in the crowds, a spot where you can be relatively alone. You silently thank yourself that the stranger didn’t follow you, but what you didn’t realize is that someone else had.

You exhale, bringing your drink to your lips and taking a swig. Your now-wet top clings to your skin, aggravating you, but the last thing you want to do is wander back into the house in search of the bathroom.

“H-hey, um, are you alright?” a voice rings out directly behind you.

You jolt just slightly, not expecting company. Turning to face the other person, your eyes first land on those big, black platform boots. Eddie had followed you. Your gaze trails up his figure, leather pants and studded belt and bare torso, until you meet his eyes for the second time this evening.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” he says, “I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I saw what happened in there and, uh, to be honest I don’t even know why we keep inviting Hargrove to these things—” Eddie rambles, as if Hargrove is a familiar name to you, as if he’s nervous to be around you — like he isn’t the star-studded host of this party.

“I’m okay,” you reply, cutting off his sentence, smirking a little. “Thanks for checking on me.”

“Oh, yeah, of course. I know these parties can get crazy, but… I always want to make sure everyone’s safe,” he says, his gaze softening as he says the last part. “I’m Eddie, by the way,” he introduces, holding out a hand for you to shake.

You immediately notice the big, silver rings adorning many of his fingers, your eyes lingering on them for maybe a second too long before you remember he’s waiting for you. You extend a hand, grasping his and shaking it.

“Y/N,” you reply. “I, uh, I’m here with Chrissy.”

“Oh, you’re Cunningham’s friend!?” he asks, lighting up at that. Excited as he says it as if you’re the celebrity here, not him.

You nod, smiling at him now.

“Damn, and she already ditched you to go screw Gareth, I’m assuming?” he jokes, and you laugh, feeling lighter by the second. Forgetting your less-than-pleasant encounter from moments ago.

“Yeah, how’d you know?” you say sarcastically, smiling wider when he snorts.

There’s a pause, you can feel him staring at you as you take another sip of alcohol. “Well, I’m a little offended she didn’t tell me that she had such a beautiful friend,” he says, and you feel your cheeks grow warm at his forwardness.

You duck your head, avoiding his eyes as your face scrunches in a shy smile. “Ah, there’s the rockstar charm,” you say, loving the sound of his laugh that comes in response.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he playfully asks, cocking his head as he leans forward to meet your gaze.

“How many other girls have you used that line on tonight?” you counter, playful but keeping a safe distance.

“Ouch, sweetheart. You really take me for that much of a player?” he stumbles back, clutching his chest as if he’s been wounded. Your eyes linger maybe too long on the tattoos littering his torso, the slight smattering of hair on his pale skin.

“Well, you are parading around your own party shirtless. Seems like a tool move to me,” you smirk, finishing off your drink with one last sip.

“Darling, you’re dressed like a cat. I don’t think you can come for my costume right now,” he flashes his perfect teeth at you, unable to contain his smile at your banter.

There’s a moment of silence, you staring out across the yard at the bright lights of the city down below, stretching vast and far. Then he speaks up again.

“I mean it. I think you’re really beautiful.”

“Thank you. You’re very pretty,” you say honestly, letting yourself give in to his flirtations.

“Is it the makeup? Am I gonna have to wear this every time I see you now?”

You giggle. “Every time? Are there going to be more times, mister rockstar?”

“I mean, I’d love to take the time to get to know you outside of a party setting, if that’s okay with you,” he smiles bashfully, and you can only assume he’s blushing under all of that makeup.

“Yeah. I think that’s okay with me,” you reply.

Conversation flows easily with Eddie, the less-than- pleasant encounter with the stranger and the spilled alcohol on your shirt long forgotten. He tells you about his life before the band started to make it big, how he always dreamed of being a rockstar. He shyly told you about how he used to parade around his home as a kid, playing his little guitar and singing songs he made up until his uncle was begging him to quiet down and go to bed.

You confess that you really didn’t know much about the band, other than things Chrissy had told you, and you apologize although he tells you it’s absolutely not necessary.

You both end up sitting in the grass side-by-side, talking so much you don’t even remember making the choice to sit, it just happened. There’s a lull in the conversation, his eyes searching yours before glancing down to your lips. He moves just slightly closer, his breath hitting your face with each exhale. You feel yours catch in your throat, anticipating his next move.

You don’t get the chance to see what that move is before the girl in the devil costume from the kitchen approaches. She instantly has her hands on Eddie, grabbing his arm with a red-gloved hand and pulling him to stand. “Eddieeee, come on! You have to come play spin the bottle with us!” she pleads, her voice too whiny to not be part of an act.

“I- uh,” he stumbles, looking at you with an emotion you can’t place.

The girl moves to stand in front of him, putting her hands on his chest now, starting to push him backwards. “Come on, it’s no fun if you don’t play,” she continues, her shrill voice grating in your ears.

You don’t like how close she’s getting, how unafraid she is to be touchy with him. Who even is she? Are they friends? Are they more than friends? She’s pushing him further away from you by the second, not once acknowledging your presence. You scoff, looking to the side, avoiding Eddie’s gaze.

Before Eddie can really do anything, he’s being shoved fully away from you. You don’t see the way he desperately looks to you for an out, simply bothered by the fact that this girl won’t leave him alone.

You wonder if you were right, if he called you beautiful just like he calls every other girl beautiful. You didn’t want to believe it, but, he’s about to go play a game with a bunch of drunk people where the whole point is to kiss each other, so. It’s not looking great for you.

You’d be lying, though, if you said your curiosity wasn’t peaked. You find yourself bored watching partygoers splash around in the pool, and you can’t shove down your internal need to find out what mister rockstar and the devil girl are up to inside. Your feet are carrying you before you can decide against it, leading you back inside, back through the kitchen where you pour yourself another drink, and then to the living room where you find a large group sat in a circle.

You hang back, just slightly, not wanting to make it too obvious that you’re watching the game, even though you aren’t the only one who came to spectate. To be completely honest, the first few spins you witness aren’t very exciting. You don’t know any of these people, so what should it matter to you if they kiss? You’re about to step away when the circle erupts with various ‘Ooooh’s and whistles.

“Come on, Eddie! You gotta do it!” a now very drunk Jeff screams.

To your absolute horror, Eddie had spun the bottle, only for it to land on the little bitch whose name you still don’t know in the devil costume. Eddie looks at the girl, who is very clearly eagerly awaiting a kiss from the singer of Corroded Coffin, but then he looks up at you.

You didn’t think he’d realized you were there, didn’t think he saw you lurking, but he looked at you too pointedly for it to have been an accident.

You swallow, suddenly feeling awkward amongst the silence of the room. Everyone’s watching Eddie, expecting him to get his kiss over with and move on. He stands finally, stepping forward. You almost want to look away, not interested in watching him lock lips with someone that isn’t you. But you can’t look away, not when he bypasses the anonymous girl and heads right for you.

“Um, I’m right here!” she says, her tone snarky and honestly annoying enough to make you want to slap her.

“Yeah, well I’m not kissing you, Tina,” Eddie says. “Spin the bottle. What are we, fourteen?” he asks, eyes still locked on you as he stands merely a step away now.

Your heart thumps in your chest, every bit of your nervous system attuned to him. Your mouth hangs slightly open, not knowing what to do or what to say.

He steps even closer, closing the distance between you. “I want to kiss you, that okay?” he murmurs, letting one hand rest so gently on your waist.

You want to laugh in Tina’s face. You want to point and laugh and rub it in, but that wouldn’t be the appropriate response here. You need to kiss Eddie, sooner rather than later.

You just nod, a smile playing on your lips. He leans his face closer to yours, hovering by your ear to whisper, “I’m sorry, about her. She’s… a friend of a friend who always ends up at our parties. Trust me, I have no interest there.”

The reassurance really isn’t necessary, you barely know Eddie after all, but it’s extremely appreciated. You feel your heart flutter a little, smug and satisfied all in one. And then his lips are on yours, not giving a damn who’s watching, not a care in the world for what anyone might say.

His lips are soft, warm against yours and the way he cradles the back of your head in his hands makes you weak at the knees. Your noses brush before you pull away, and the two of you giggle in unison like you just shared some exciting secret with each other.

Tina is dumbfounded where she sits on the carpet, watching you. You swear steam would be coming out of her ears if this was a cartoon. You give her a little wave and an all-too-fake smile before Eddie grabs your hand to lead you away.

Not a single word is spoken as he pulls you out of the living room, you’re silent until you reach the stairs to go up to the second floor.

“So you really don’t have history with Tina?” you playfully ask, pressing the issue just to be a pain, and he groans.

“Ugh, god, no. Like I said, she always ends up at these things and she’s all over me. But the funny part is, we went to high school together. She bullied the crap outta me,” he explains, and you can’t help but laugh. “Spread some nasty rumors on social media…” he shakes his head, smirking at the thought now.

“Of course,” you roll your eyes, “Now where are you taking me, rockstar?” you grab his waist once you’ve reached the top of the stairs, pulling him closer to you.

“To my room, because there’s no way I can handle any more interruptions tonight,” he says, his hands finding your hips, pressing his forehead to yours for a moment.

Another kiss is ghosted over your lips, open-mouthed and teasing, leaving you chasing after him when he pulls away and starts to walk down the hallway. He opens the dark wood door, gesturing for you to enter first.

The second he’s inside with you, his mouth is on yours, your back pressed to the wall as his hands grip your waist. He fumbles with the light switch behind you, providing a dim glow throughout the room. He wastes no time slipping his tongue past your lips, licking inside of your mouth and groaning when your tongue meets his. Your noses brush and you’re sure his makeup is getting smeared on your face, or vice-versa, and the thought makes you smile into the kiss. His lips work their way down to your jaw, nipping and mouthing at the skin before residing on your neck, sucking till it stings.

You hiss, arching your back into him, hands grabbing at his bare shoulders as your nails dig into the skin.

“Shit, sweetheart,” Eddie breathes, hands grabbing your face as he brings you in for another heated kiss.

He starts to walk backwards, guiding you with him towards his bed. His boots are kicked off of his feet carelessly, and you toe off your heels in tandem. He reaches the mattress, falling back onto it and scooting backwards until he’s fully on the bed. You follow his lead, straddling his lap and letting your hands roam his bare chest. He watches you like you’re an ethereal being, eyes big and round and completely full of desire. His hands wrap around to grab your ass beneath the fabric of your skirt, filling his open palms with the soft flesh and squeezing.

Your hands waste no time in finding their way to the zipper of his pants, tugging it down after undoing the button.

“Need these off, Ed,” you say, sounding more whiny than you’d wanted. Your face gets hot at the smirk he gives you in return.

“Oh, so we’re desperate now, huh?” he says, the cocky rockstar demeanor coming out in full-swing. It makes you embarrassingly flustered, your cunt throbbing for him.

All you can do is nod, your hand trailing over the bulge that waits for you beneath fabric.

“Fuck,” he curses under his breath, starting to shimmy his pants down his thighs.

You remove yourself from his lap, letting him undress — your mouth practically watering when his cock springs free and smacks against his stomach. He’s fully naked for you now, given that he already wasn’t wearing a shirt. All that’s left is the studded choker around his neck, and it makes you drool.

“Like what you see, baby?” he asks, a smug little grin on his face as he watches the way you take in his entire body.

You already noticed the tattoos on his chest and arms, but now you’re noticing the ones on his thighs. He’s unreal, so unfairly gorgeous and captivating. He’s perfectly sculpted, a sharp V carved into his pelvis that simply leads your eyes down a path to his perfect cock. It’s big — long and not too thick, veiny with a pink, leaking tip. He must catch your intrigued expression, because he laughs, a devious little sound that tells you he can’t have any pure intentions.

“Why don’t you lay down so I can get you ready to take this cock?” he purrs, slender fingers stroking up and down one side of your body.

You shudder at his touch, moving to lay down on his bed. You pull your shirt off before you do, leaving your black, lacy bra on display for the man beside you. Your tits rest perfectly in it, and Eddie’s sure to get an eyeful. His hands gently hold your hips once you’re situated comfortably, partially laying down with your back propped against his many fluffy pillows. He leans down, letting his lips graze over your jaw, your cheek, your nose, before finally pressing to your mouth. He brings one hand up, pulling your cat-ear headband off of your head, deciding it can’t be very comfortable to have on for hours at a time. It makes you breathe a little laugh into the kiss, remembering how silly you must look with your painted on whiskers and nose.

He doesn’t give you much time to dwell on it, his mouth pulling off of yours and starting to travel down your neck. He kisses your shoulders, your collarbone, sucking on the most sensitive bits of skin and making you whine as you wriggle beneath him. He finds his way down to your breasts, hands sliding your bra straps down your shoulders as you arch your back for him, giving him room to unhook the clasp that sits at your spine. His lips immediately attach to one of your pert nipples, sucking and swirling his tongue around the small bud. One of his large hands cups your other breast, the cold silver of the rings on his fingers a sharp contrast to your searing skin.

He switches after a moment, sucking the opposite nipple into his warm, wet mouth. Something akin to a growl leaves his mouth when your fingers tangle in his hair and tug, and it spurs you on to keep going. His lips unlatch themselves from your breast, his mouth moving down down down, trailing kisses everywhere it goes. Your cunt throbs when his mouth approaches the waistband of your tight little skirt, his eager hands hooking beneath the fabric and beginning to yank it down, along with your underwear.

He peppers kisses lower and lower on your body, his mouth following close behind the clothes that he pulls off of you, covering every inch of skin as it’s exposed to him. He discards everything onto the floor, definitely tearing your stockings in the process of ripping them off of you. Your mind is a blur as he hastily attaches his lips to your clit, slipping one finger inside of you with complete ease. You weren’t expecting all of the stimulation so suddenly, your body writhing on the mattress as he sucks your sensitive clit into his mouth.

“More, Eddie, need more,” you pant, knowing you’re probably being greedy but knowing all the same that he won’t deny you what you want.

He hums against your cunt, immediately adding a second finger inside of you. He curls the digits, collecting your sticky wetness and groaning at the filthy noises that his movements make. Your hands tug harder on his hair as you throw your head back onto the pillows, cursing at how good he feels. Going in, you had no idea how tonight would play out, but you certainly didn’t expect to be hooking up with the frontman of Corroded Coffin. Your head spins at the thought of how many other people would probably die to be in your position right now, and it only makes you more turned on.

“Want one more, baby? Need to make sure you can take my fingers before you take my cock,” he purrs, smirking up at you.

“Yeah, please, I can take it,” you reassure him, and he slips a third finger in.

His fingers are thick, no doubt about it, and they stretch you so deliciously you feel like you could cry. The silk sheets beneath you feel cold against your skin, easing the heat that floods your entire body. You grip them with one hand, the other still in Eddie’s hair as he flicks his tongue back and forth over your clit in the perfect rhythm. He doesn’t dare change his pace, not with the way you’re moaning his name like a siren song, drawing him more and more into you.

You’re rapidly approaching your release, that much he knows, and he wants to send you free-falling over that edge. The way you suck his fingers right in practically makes him drool, he can’t get enough. Loud, shrill moans of his name leave your mouth as he curls his fingers into that perfect soft spot inside of you, and Eddie couldn’t care less if the whole damn house can hear you.

“Gonna cum, Eddie, ohmygod—” you’re cut off mid-sentence, the air stolen from your lungs as you come undone for him.

You squeeze around his fingers, soaking him as your body trembles. He pulls them out of you, slowly bringing them to his lips, making sure your eyes are on him. He sucks the digits clean of your juices, humming contently around them. You ache for him, your body desperate to have him even though it’s only been seconds since he’d been pleasuring you.

He moves to hover over you, reattaching his lips to yours in a heated kiss. It’s somehow gentle and rough at the same time, a weird but enticing juxtaposition. He tastes like you and it drives you crazy as your mouths clash together, all teeth and tongues.

“Fuck, baby, hold on. Let me get a condom,” Eddie says, nearly breathless as he pulls away.

“No— want you to fuck me raw,” you mewl, reaching out to stop him as he goes to stand.

“Baby…” he says, looking at you with uncertainty. He never goes without a condom, and certainly doesn’t want you to feel pressured to forgo one.

“Please, Eddie. Just pull out,” you plead with him, and you honestly can’t believe your nerve right now. Begging the famous rockstar you just met to fuck you raw, as if you have all of this power over him. What you don’t know is that Eddie already wants to give you anything you ask for.

“Okay, alright, sweetheart. Whatever you want,” he says, leaning down to kiss your forehead before positioning himself on top of you.

He lines his cock up with your entrance, and you can feel the way you throb for him. You know you’re even more soaked than before, and you hardly worry about whether or not he’ll fit.

“You ready?” he asks sincerely. Big brown eyes searching yours for your approval.

“Mhm,” you hum, letting your eyes flutter closed when you feel him start to press in.

Moans leave each of your mouths in unison as he sinks inside inch by inch. Your nails dig in to the skin on his back, dragging down when he bottoms out inside of you. He hisses, breathing heavy as he tries to gain some composure. You feel so good around him, too good, and it takes all of his focus to not bust immediately.

“Please move, need you to move,” you whine, looking up at him with your big, pleading eyes.

He nods, “Okay, baby. Gonna give it to you so good, yeah?”

He starts thrusting, slowly at first, dragging his cock almost fully out of you before rutting back in. The air is forced from your lungs, your mouth open in a silent moan. His movements stay slow like that for a little while, giving you the friction you need but still teasing. Moans leave your lips as he slowly pushes himself all the way in, letting you fully feel the way he stretches your walls to fit him.

He starts to speed up then, setting a steady pace as he fucks into you harder. He does it so well, filling you to the brim and making you clench around him. You can feel every vein and ridge on his cock, the pleasure making your body erupt in goosebumps.

“Shit, feel so fucking good, sweetheart,” Eddie pants, his hips smacking against yours roughly. “Wanna try something different?” he asks, waiting for your approval which comes without hesitation.

He pulls out of you, making you wince slightly. He stands at the side of the bed, coaxing you to move towards him. You oblige, scooting right to the edge of the mattress. Strong hands grip your legs, hoisting your feet up onto his shoulders, exposing you perfectly to him. You feel more vulnerable like this, and it makes you antsy as you wait for him to slide back in. When he does, you see stars. The angle is perfect, his cock hitting spots it couldn’t before. You watch as he throws his head back, the muscles in his neck prominent as he clenches his jaw, a guttural groan escaping him.

“You’re so damn beautiful, so fucking gorgeous,” he says, looking back down at you with sincere eyes. “How’d I get the most perfect girl on the planet?”

And then he bends down, your legs still hooked over his shoulders, your body practically folded in half now. You nearly scream out his name, the lewd sounds of his balls slapping against your skin filling the space. He leans down to kiss you, his lips and firm against yours, muffling your pretty noises. He pulls away, letting out a smug little chuckle at the way you instantly moan for him, noticing the tears pricking in the corner of your eyes.

“Gonna cry for me, baby? My cock feels so good you’re gonna cry about it?” he teases, watching your brow furrow in concentration as you get closer and closer to release.

“You’re very — fuck — very fucking modest,” you choke out, trying and failing to bite back your whimpers.

He laughs again, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “You know you fucking love it,” he murmurs, teeth biting at your earlobe before he pulls away. “I can tell you love it, cause you’re suckin’ me in like you were made for me.”

You let out a whine at his words, pinching your eyes shut in pure ecstasy as he continues to split you open. “Fuck, Eddie, don’t stop,” you plead, your body jolting with every harsh thrust he gives you.

He grunts as he fucks you faster, watching in awe as your tits bounce on your chest. He can feel how soaked you are for him, can see your cream pooling around the base of him when he sheathes himself fully inside.

“You gonna cum for me again, sweetheart?” he rasps, leaning down to kiss along your jawline.

All you can get out is a wobbly “Uh-huh,” nodding your head to the best of your ability. His fingers dig in to the meat of your thighs, a dull ache from his harsh grip barely noticeable in the back of your mind. One hand moves from its spot on your leg to reach down and play with your clit, the pad of his thumb rubbing quick circles over it.

Your back arches off the mattress, your legs shaking as you cry out his name. A few more deep thrusts and you’re plummeting over the edge for the second time tonight, your cunt tensing up around him over and over. The way your walls flutter around his cock brings him dangerously close to release, and he pulls his cock out quickly before he’s pumping it in his fist. All it takes is a few strokes before ropes of his cum are covering your body, splattering over your bare chest and stomach.

You let your legs drop from his shoulders, aching as you stretch them out. You feel like you’re made of rubber, limbs wobbly as your feet drop to the floor.

“Holy shit,” is all you can say, staring up at his ceiling as he chuckles at you from the side of the bed.

“You’re so damn perfect,” he says, shaking his head with a sweet little smile. He stretches, muscles flexing as he raises his arms to the ceiling, cocking an eyebrow at you when he catches you staring.

“Says you…” you reply, pulling the sheets up to hide your face, suddenly shy.

“Let me get you cleaned up, yeah?” he asks, holding out his arm for you, pulling you up when you take his hand.

When you step out of the shower with him, after your body has been cleaned and every inch of your skin has been kissed by his soft mouth, he gives you his big clothes to put on. You change and brush your hair, letting his hands hold your waist as he tries to invade your space to kiss you even more. You can’t help but admire his face, even more gorgeous now that his Halloween makeup is washed down the drain.

You both shuffle out of the bedroom carefully afterwards, trying to gauge how much the party has died down, only to be met with a laugh from the opposite end of the hallway.

Your head shoots up, seeing Gareth and Chrissy stepping out of his room, looking wildly similar to you and Eddie; costumes off, makeup off, a few extra hickeys on Gareth’s neck. Chrissy’s mouth hangs open, her eyes flitting from you to Eddie and back again.

“I told you!!” she shouts, giggling before Gareth takes her hand, pulling her down the stairs with him.

You try to bite back a smile, heat creeping up to your face.

“What exactly did she tell you, sweetheart?” Eddie smirks down at you, pulling your body to his. His cocky expression gives you the hint that he already has an idea.

“Shut up, rockstar.”

[planetsano]

synopsis ⌒ ⭑⭒ (name)! (name)! what’s it like being a water girl for blue lock 11? being the sweetest little mascot the whole team wants to put their cock in?

warnings ⌒ ⭑⭒ female reader, gang bang, orgy, group sex, double penetration (same hole, vaginal sex), anal sex, spit, oral sex (giving and receiving), squirting, mlm sex, voyeurism, exhibitionism, masturbation, love triangle, pining, very girly hyperfeminine reader, aged up characters, pro au, mdni.

pairing(s) ⌒ ⭑⭒ rin itoshi x reader x isagi yoichi (main), blue lock 11 x reader pairings, various x pairings.

word count ⌒ ⭑⭒ 11.2k.

Being Blue Lock 11’s water girl was honest work.

How (Name) got the job honestly wasn’t because of any credentials or any kind of degree to further her chances, but instead, she had a pretty face and the personality of a golden retriever puppy which made it very easy for her to become sort of a “personality hire.” Ego knew it was a position that had to be filled but he didn’t want to do it himself. The trivial and petty details needed to be taken care of and that’s exactly what she handles. Water Girl is the official title but these days you’ve almost become more like a personal assistant to the team in various ways.

(Name) has come a very long way since her very first day. It’s not that she was bad at her job per se— but she’s clumsy and a little.. airheaded. (Name) would often do things like trip over her own feet and send the things she was holding flying into the air. The sweet thing couldn’t help it too much. How could she? She was nervous and wasn’t the athletic type, never was, and never will be.

Now it’s been about a year since then and she’s a bonafide professional! Or so she likes to say.

Her morning started the same as any other, with the soft chimes of her pastel-colored alarm clock gently pulling her from dreamland. Stretching like a content kitten, she hopped out of bed, excited to start her extensive morning routine. The first stop was her vanity table, adorned with all sorts of makeup and skincare products. She giddily picked up her favorite rose-scented cleanser and began washing her face, humming a cheerful tune to herself.

After the refreshing cleanse, she moved on to the rest of her skincare routine, carefully applying toner, serum, and moisturizer, all infused with the latest beauty trends— she’s been on his K-beauty kick recently. With a smile, she looked at her glowing reflection in the mirror, already feeling ready for the day. Next came the fun part— makeup. She typically liked experimenting with different looks, and today’s theme was soft and flirty, with a touch of shimmer.

(Name) meticulously applied foundation, blush, eyeshadow, and a winged eyeliner. As the finishing touch, she added a glossy, bubblegum-pink lipstick to complete her signature look. She already had what she was wearing planned— her favorite pair of high-waisted, blush pink leggings that hugged her curves just right and a matching sports bra completed with a white, knitted cropped sweater. Simple, comfortable, and cute. There wasn’t much else to it.

(Name) was soon grabbing her car keys, the cutest keychain from her collection dangling from the D-ring. Her tote bag was slung over one shoulder, filled with her daily essentials like lip gloss, a compact mirror, a cute notebook, and her iPad. She held a large basket in her arms filled with goodies for the team. (Name) practically spent all night preparing everything! She worked hard on these cupcakes too.. they better enjoy them!

She headed out the door, hauling everything to her vehicle. As she approached her car, she couldn’t help but smile at the glossy black paint and the adorable heart-shaped air freshener dangling from the rearview mirror. It looked significantly better after the repair— but it wasn’t her fault! That pothole was in her way.

Despite all that, she loved her car! Even though she wasn’t much of a car girl to begin with— decorating made her feel like she was driving in her little wonderland. However, she still needed to call her dad when the mechanic was speaking in literal tongues every time she went in for an oil change.

After loading everything into her car, she made sure to bring a tumbler of her favorite homemade French vanilla iced coffee, a protein bar in case she got hungry, and a playlist of her favorite songs ready to accompany her on the ride. As she buckled up and turned on the engine, she couldn’t resist taking a moment to check herself in the rearview mirror. Lip gloss tended to make its way on other parts of her face— so cute but messy at times.

Upon getting there, she types in the code to gain access to the training facility. The electronic lock emits a soft beep, and the heavy metal door slowly hisses open. Stepping inside, the air is noticeably cooler and filled with a faint hum of machinery. Fluorescent lights line the corridor, casting a sterile glow on the metallic walls. She made her way down the halls to her “office.” It was just a locker somewhere tucked away near the staff’s office.

Ego used to be able to tolerate her in his office but he ended up getting her area because he just couldn’t handle the chatterbox she was and the playful antics that seemed to follow her everywhere she went. She was trouble and Ego was well aware. Her presence had a way of brightening up the most serious of situations and while some appreciated her for it, Ego found it a constant distraction. No matter how attractive she was.

Her locker was decorated with a collection of cute stickers, fairy lights, and a small potted plant. Fake, of course. She placed all her things in the space before heading to the team’s locker room. The automated light system turns on revealing rows of neatly arranged lockers, each placard with the team members’ names.

The hum of ventilation filled the air as she walked further in, her footsteps echoing off the polished tiles. The scent of fresh laundry and a hint of antiseptic cleaner lingered, creating a familiar and almost comforting atmosphere. She knew that within these walls, victories were celebrated and defeats were dissected. As she glanced around, memories of past games and silly stories flooded her mind, a small smile gracing her lips.

(Name) made her way through the rows of lockers, the soft, ambient light from the overhead fixtures casting gentle shadows. All boys got their small gift bag with items that were tailored to their personal preferences plus a cupcake she spent all night baking herself.

After that was all done, she grabbed the clipboard ornate with all sorts of cute stickers courtesy of her and notes scribbled on by the team with Blue Lock’s logo etched into the back. She went over the checklist for the day, as she stepped out of the locker room. It only took a few strides down the hallway to get to the equipment room, where a manicured finger grazed over assignment number one.

The first item on the list was to prepare the team’s water bottles. It usually consisted of making sure to fill their bottles with fresh, ice-cold water and lemon and then arrange them neatly in a cooler outside. Also filling up a “refill station” cooler that the team could use throughout practice.

It wouldn’t have been so much of a pain if it didn’t have been carried to the training field.

“Oh great.” She pouted softly. She had to do this all by herself? She can lift it but did she want to? No, her nails don’t have insurance. She looked at her Apple watch with furrowed brows, one of the early birds should be arriving soon...

“You need to stop leavin’ us this sugary shit all the time, princess,” Raichi says. He’s leaning up against the wide door frame, one hand in his pocket and the other holding the pink frosted cupcake up to his lips. Half of it is gone, clearly signaling he started devouring it on his way to the equipment room where she was.

“Jingo,” (Name) breathes out his name in a sugary and needy cadence— relief. Her voice is sweet like honey to Raichi’s ears but he’ll never say it to her face. There’s just something about the way she says his name that scratches a certain part spot in his brain and in return he finds himself feeling a particular way. He’s prickly because he’s 50/50 in his thoughts about her. On one hand, he’s almost certain that she knows exactly what she’s doing, and he can’t stand that her charms have this much of an effect on him. On the other hand, he’s not sure. There’s this doubt that she knows her effect and it pisses him off to no end that he can’t fully read her intent.

Usually, he can easily deem someone an “asshole” or not but when he looks at her, all Raichi is met with are these pretty eyes and he doesn’t see any hidden intent. It’s quite the opposite and in return, it evokes feelings of wanting to protect her. Raichi is quite the.. character though, everything must be difficult with him. It’s just in his chaos-inducing nature. His mental process is: she can’t not know how hot she is but there’s also this… air about her that makes people compelled to feel endeared by her. Simply making the notion of her using her visuals to essentially influence people to get what she wants goes against why the guys can’t help but dote on (Name).

He watches her stance as she dusts her hands together before aimlessly wiping her palms on the material of her pale pink Spanx. The look on her face screams damsel in distress— pretty pout on her glossy lips and her brows pinched in a furrow. (Name) didn’t catch what he said to her previously, clearly wrapped in her little conundrum of how she was going to get this to the field by herself before practice started.

“Can you help me, pretty please? It’s too heavy to lift on my own.” She says. He chooses to stay silent, merely looking at her with slightly raised brows as he finishes the last of the pink velvet dessert in his hand.

“Please? I made you cupcakes!” (Name) stomps her foot a bit, finding herself a little frustrated because her time was ticking and practice was starting in less than thirty minutes at this point. Ego liked to give her a hard time about her time management, even going as far as to mention a replacement if she “couldn’t get her act together.” It was an obvious scare tactic, he was just annoyed with her performance as it was not up to his standards. Everything under Ego’s ship had to be executed to his liking and he wouldn't settle for less.

“You made everyone cupcakes.” He deadpans as he balls the wrapper up and tosses it into a nearby can. His eyes trail back to hers after the fact.

“But that one was special because it had your name on it and I made it specially for you.” He can’t lie, she’s adorable. The way her demeanor is in the moment, slowly becoming more and more frustrated with his lack of cooperation. Not to mention the way she misuses the word— something she’s been saying for a while in the way she uses it so confidently.

“Specially?” He questions, pushing off the door frame so he can enter the room in its entirety. “It’s especially, you ditz.” He closes the gap between them, only leaving a couple of centimeters between their respective frames, and (Name) feels like she can feel his body heat radiating from him, she was always convinced that his blood ran hot just like his temperament. She doesn’t budge though, only continuing to stand her ground with the cutest little scrunched-nose smile. She was attempting to hold it back which made Raichi offer her the smallest bit of a smirk.

(Name) was a flirt and she was good at it.

“Move out of the way.” He mumbles surprisingly softly, his head tilted downward as he looks at her. He does so until he tears his eyes from hers to finally get his hands on the water cooler. Now that he has it, he sees that it may have been too heavy for her to carry by herself. Raichi lifts it with ease though, his biceps contracting as he does so. “Come on, I’m not hauling this shit outside for you by myself.”

As they walk side by side with each other down the empty hallway, Raichi’s eyes begin to drift to her more than he’d like. In the brief moments that it happens, his golden-yellow irises study his favorite parts of her face. The long lashes that seemed to flutter upon her upper cheeks with every blink she took, the cutest nose that she liked to put the tiniest bit of blush on, her pouty lips that were tinted with a light cherry shade— it made Raichi sick the way she so effortlessly made him feel. Despite her looks, there had been something irritating him; something that had been on his mind for a while he just couldn’t shake. Raichi was never the type to beat around the bush and become passive in his feelings. He would address this eventually when they’re met with the field.

The blond places the water cooler down in its designated spot at the end of the benches where the paper cups had been already placed.

“Hey,” Raichi calls for her, his expression unreadable as he looks at her.

“Hm?” (Name) looks at him with curiosity, her hands shading her eyes from the sun and her lips parted slightly.

“Is it true you’re fuckin’ Isagi?” He has no shame in the question but it really shouldn’t have been much of a shock from his lack of general etiquette to begin with.

“You! Are such a guy, Jingo!” She says incredulously, giving him a playful shove to his shoulder.

“What? It’s a question.” His brows are low, not finding an ounce of humor in his query.

“Isagi is sweet.” She responds.

“That ain’t what I asked you.” Raichi raises a brow.

“Why does it matter, huh?” (Name) lets out a little laugh, tilting her head a bit.

“It matters because I’m askin’ you.”

By this point, it was no real secret that quite a few of the guys harbored feelings for (Name) over time. She was just too good at what she did. Her bubbly personality and genuine kindness leave an endless trail of admirers in her wake.

The way she interacted with each member of the team made them feel special as if they were the only ones in the room. Her charisma was magnetic and drew people in effortlessly. Her “innocent” flirtations, the playful twinkle in her eyes, her infectious laughter— it had a way of making the guys’ hearts race.

“Oi, oi, oi. Less talking, more working.” Tabito whistles at the two as he approaches them, a few more boys trickling in behind him.

“Shut up, dickwad.” Raichi quips.

“No fighting, please.” (Name) sighs as she lifts a sheet on her clipboard.

“Hey.” Tabito’s voice rang out as he sauntered over to where (Name) stood not too far from Raichi.

She glanced up, a playful grin tugging at the corner of her lips. “Hi, Tabito.”

He stretched his arms outward casually, his arms folded across his chest. “What’re you doing tonight?”

“Mmm, nothin’—” (Name) replied with an innocent shrug, her eyes sparkling upward at him as she grinned down at her.

Raichi rolls his eyes at the interaction, choosing to lace up his cleats. His nasty expression contradicted the light-hearted banter in the room. He watched as (Name) and Tabito exchanged playful words, his gaze flickering between them and the task at hand.

As the banter continued, Raichi’s mind wandered back to the countless moments he had witnessed between (Name) and the other guys on the team. He couldn’t deny the twinge of jealousy that gnawed at him, though he did a good job at keeping his emotions hidden behind his rough exterior. It seemed as though it were the Hunger Games when it came to (Name), and she was the prized gem whether she realized it or not. Raichi had a hunch that he wasn’t the only one who’d been smitten with this broad— for a while.

The boys continued to trail in one by one, sometimes in pairs like Reo and Nagi. But (Name) continued to do her daily checklist without issue as they all became settled— doing warm-ups until Ego showed up.

Practices were usually easier to handle than official games. It’s understandable; there’s high pressure and strain put on the players which essentially makes (Name)’s job, a real job. Tending to their personal needs was all that mattered as far as she was concerned. She had witnessed the team’s transition from practices to official games countless times, each time realizing just how much pressure and strain the players were under. Her role extended beyond just providing physical support; she was there to offer emotional support as well, ease pre-game nerves, and make sure that each player was mentally prepared to give their best on the field. Men are typically.. less in tune with their emotions than women are. It helps.

(Name) had taken on the role of the Blue Lock’s unofficial mascot because of this, particularly in Bachira’s eyes. However, there was a not-so-subtle undercurrent of aggression amongst some of the guys and Bachira. he had a way of hugging and showering her with affection that seemed innocent and endearing, but those who knew him well were aware that he knew exactly what he was doing. He expertly played the role of an adorable puppy causing a bit of mischief— something everyone adored, yet his intentions were akin to a mischievous younger sibling sticking their tongue out at their older sibling behind their mom’s back, knowing full well the game he was playing.

“(Nickname)!” Bachira says in a sing-song tone as he approaches from behind, covering her eyes with his hands. He gives her a cute smile as he looks at her from over her shoulder. “Guess who?”

“Bachi?” Her little name for him makes his heart skip a beat, an excitable giggle leaving his lips as he uncovers her eyes. She turned to face him and couldn’t help but smile as Bachira enveloped her in a warm embrace, their cheeks pressed together in a hug. His personality was contagious, and his affectionate demeanor always managed to tickle her spirits.

“Pretty, pretty girl~♡” Bachira’s playful tone made her smile softly, the endearing nickname earning a sweet laugh from her. She takes his face into her hands, smiling as she squishes his cheeks together.

“Weren’t you supposed to tone your hair a couple of days ago?” (Name) teased, an amused glint in her eyes as she ran a hand through his bangs— the color still a brassy yellow shade.

Bachira’s expression turned sheepish, and he scratched the back of his head with a bashful grin. “Ah, yeah, about that… I kind of forgot about it~ I need your help. I’m not good at this stuff like you. Come over and help me.” Before she could answer, she’d been cut off by a familiar voice.

“Come over without me too, Meguru? Cheating on me right in front of my face?” (Name) and Bachira both turned to find Isagi, walking over with a small smile on his face.

“Yoichi! Hi,” (Name) said, her voice sounding almost dreamlike as she greeted him. Her heart raced in her chest as she looked at him, but she couldn’t help but feel a rush of excitement wash over her— good and tingly feelings all over.

No doubt about it, Isagi held a special place in her heart. Raichi's intuition was spot on, their bond was undeniable. They enjoyed their time together; both.. inside and outside the bedroom. However, it wasn't an official relationship per se. They danced on the fine line between friendship and something more, both enjoying the freedom that came with it.

Honestly, it was a connection built on physical attraction initially, and over time a genuine care for one another formed, making it all the more sticky especially for (Name) for.. various reasons. Isagi was the kind of person who could effortlessly bring a smile to her face and warmth to her heart, she felt like she was a little girl in school again. Something exciting to keep her anticipating what’s to happen next. It also helped that Isagi was cute as a button.

It happened at an after-party of a press conference nearly half a year ago— the drinks had been going and the two had gotten very close as the night progressed. All it took was a single look at him through her lashes and one too many flirty touches left on his arms and chest. He asked if she wanted to leave early and she agreed without a second thought. Of course, they played it off nicely, leaving not at once but one by one about ten minutes apart. Isagi fucked all her sorrows away, leaving both of them tangled into the sheets breathless. It’s been like this ever since but, Yoichi does have plans.

“Don’t hog (Name) all to yourself!” Bachira punched his shoulder, his tone had a teasing lilt to it.

“I don’t hog her, you little..-” Isagi reached over to put him in a light headlock, the both of them giggling and playing like they were still kids at recess. She smiled as she looked on at the two, feeling grateful that they found each other when they did.

(Name) looked over her shoulder and happened to lock eyes with the ever-so-brooding captain of the team: Rin Itoshi. Her smile falters a bit, brows pinched in a displeased furrow as a heavy feeling settles in her chest, leaving her feeling a bit helpless. She didn’t like the feeling— she didn’t like it at all. She was a relatively happy girl who didn’t like being taken out of character, she prided herself in that.

“So, (Name), are we helping Bachira with his hair today?” Isagi asked, his curiosity piqued. His voice held a hint of playfulness, but underneath, there was a trace of vulnerability. He’d been testing the waters—wanting to see whether or not he could crash this little “private party.”

As he spoke, Isagi’s eyes flickered between (Name) and Bachira, trying to gauge their reactions. His grin, although friendly, was subtly tinged with an edge. It wasn’t just curiosity driving him; it was jealousy that simmered just beneath the surface. In the moments that followed, Isagi’s body language revealed more than just his words. He subtly moved closer to (Name), not wanting to be left out of the conversation or, more importantly, her attention.

“Huh..?” She turns her head back to Isagi and Bachira, shaking her head as if she’d been trying to snap out of something. But Isagi had already noticed that she seemed off like she was bothered by something or rather someone.

“Oh, sure— if Bachi doesn’t mind.” There’s a smile on her lips that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. By this point, Bachi managed to wriggle free of Isagi and made his way over to talk to Nagi and Reo who weren’t too far from where they stood.

“Hey,” Yoichi calls for her gently. “You okay?”

“Yeah, of course! I’m okay.” She answers as she nods her head. Her smile seems more genuine this time, not like before a few seconds ago. Maybe she’s managed to suppress whatever she had been feeling— a fleeting wave of emotion only elicited by a trigger.

“Are you mad at me?” He asks, his voice lowering an octave or two. He just barely takes a step closer, pretty blue eyes filled with worry.

“No, Isagi,” she answered delicately, her fingers nervously twirling a strand of her hair. “Why would I be upset with you?”

Isagi's concern deepened as he noticed her anxious gesture. He reached out, gently touching her arm. “Just making sure..”

(Name) glanced down at his hand on her arm, a fleeting moment of comfort in his touch. She sighed and looked away, her gaze fixating on a nearby bench.

“Is it about him?” Isagi asked.

“What?” Her brows furrowed and she followed his gaze to the distant figure of Rin. He nodded almost imperceptibly. “Is it about him?”

“I'm not talking about this right now, Isagi,” (Name) replied, her eyes returning to Isagi's, a mixture of emotions swirling within them. They were narrowed, threatening him silently. It had been an almost incredulous expression as if she couldn’t believe that he was choosing to carelessly bring this up right now of all times. Isagi was a smart boy, he knew to leave it. (Name) kept a leash on him in a way, despite the sweetness of her demeanor and face— she was capable of having a mean streak.

As the team was immersed in their practice drills, the words hung in the air like an unspoken echo.

“Isagi!” Reo calls him over, both her and Isagi looking over to where the trio stood.

“I’ll talk to you later, okay?” Isagi says, his lips pressed together in a tight line as he gives her a final glance before jogging away.

(_ _ ) . . z Z

The training facility buzzed with energy as the team went through their practice drills, Blue Lock’s technology seamlessly integrated into every aspect of their training. The walls of the facility were adorned with holographic screens that displayed real-time data and strategy simulations. The air was filled with a familiar sense of intensity only they understood as the team, focused on honing their skills for the upcoming game.

As the practice session neared its end, (Name) caught sight of Ego observing from a distance. He stood by a large holographic display, analyzing the players’ performance metrics. They managed to exchange eye contact which is when Ego signaled to (Name) to come where he stood. She nodded in acknowledgment and made her way past the field. She’ll never get over just how tall he is in comparison to her as she practically cranes her neck to look up at him.

“See me in my office in five minutes.” He requested, adjusting his glasses further onto his face with his middle finger. Ah, he was so intimidating sometimes— especially when his glasses had a glare. Ego was nice enough to her though, even if he was a little scary.

“Okay!” She nods quickly as he dismisses himself, barely giving her enough time to acknowledge his request.

Reo had been watching the exchange from a distance and couldn't resist the opportunity to tease her— he walked over a piece of minty gum being chewed by his pearly whites. With a grin, he asked, “In trouble?”

(Name) giggled at his words. “I hope not,” she replied.

He leaned in closer, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Well, if you need someone to come to your rescue, you know where to find me,” he said, popping his gum. “You know how intense Ego can be.”

She matched Reo’s gaze, tilting her head, and offered a gentle pat on his cheek. It was how seemingly ignorant she was about little things like eye contact; a historically intimate, sometimes even taboo action. Reo recognized that he was flirting quite openly, fully aware of it. However, her natural charm had him feeling somewhat.. disoriented one could say. He’s almost certain that she wasn’t picking up on his advances but rather, she was just being herself. Reo felt like he was out of his league, realizing he needed to step up his game to get his point across.

“I'll remember that,” she replied, a hint of playfulness in her tone. As Reo pondered how to navigate her, (Name) continued the conversation with a hint of innocence that seemed to come naturally to her.

“So, Mr. Shining Armor,” she began, a playful twinkle in her eye, “If I ever need, like, an alibi or something, you’d totally have my back, right?”

Reo grinned. “Yeah,” he replied. “I’d hire you a lawyer if you really needed it, but you’re a good girl, no? You wouldn’t even need an alibi to begin with.”

A playful pout formed on (Name)’s lips as she huffed out her cheeks and stomped her foot in playful protest. “Says who! I can hang with the best of them!”

“Oh yeah? Well, you’ve got about two minutes to get to Ego’s office.” He says matter of factly.

“What! You’re lying!” Her demeanor shifted to one of mild panic as she glanced at the time on her wristband. With a swift and almost comical spin, she hurriedly dashed off, her footsteps echoing down the corridor. “I’ll talk to you soon!”

She made her way to Ego’s office, knocking briskly before letting herself in. His office was a blend of sleek design and advanced functionality. The walls had the same interactive screen she had seen earlier. The AI was amazing, she had never seen anything like it until she landed this job. It was capable of anything it seemed, projecting game footage, tactical analysis, and real-time player stats that all just scratched the surface of it. Ego pulled up her “profile” one day, it had information that she didn’t even give consent to give out. Weird? Yes, but she’s seen worse since she started here.

As she entered, the screens adjusted to her presence, dimming slightly as if they were on standby mode. Ego stood at his desk, which was more like a command center with all of the digital interfaces and gesture controls. He motioned for her to take a seat, and she obliged, settling into a chair near to his own. Ego’s gaze met hers, his usually stern expression softened slightly by the bluish hues of the various screens.

“I wanted to talk to you about something important, (Name).” She listened attentively as Ego spoke to her.

“A very important game is near, so I need you on your A-game, (Name),” Ego said, making her furrow her brows just a bit in curiosity. “Yes, you’re the appointed water girl; however, you’ll also have other duties such as acting as an.. on-call personal assistant of sorts. I need you to keep them happy and stress-free no matter how ridiculous their requests are.”

“Requests?” She blinks at him and tilts her head.

“Yes.” He didn’t seem as though he was willing to explain. Ah, of course. Ego never liked to be questioned anyway.

She let out a sigh but her usual warm smile appeared once again as she reassured him, “You can count on me, Ego! ” A cute smile grew on her lips, and she saluted him playfully. Ego’s eyes rolled at the gesture, though a hint of amusement danced in his gaze.

“Alright, enough theatrics,” he said, his stern exterior softening just a touch as he adjusted his frames. “I trust you, (Name).”

(_ _ ) . . z Z

The final whistle blew on the starry-lit soccer field, the tension of the intense match at an all-time high as Blue Lock emerged victorious. The crowd roared with excitement and the stadium lights illuminated the scene like a grand stage. The team had just delivered a performance for the ages. The players had gathered in the center of the field, their eyes still shining with the intensity of the match— the pure satisfaction and euphoria coursing through their veins. It felt as though the energy surrounding them had been visible, deep blue. Signifying power, confidence, and authority. All things that they had been representing in that very moment as they went home with the win, the opposing team had long since exited the field leaving Blue Lock to celebrate amongst themselves.

They all exchanged sloppy hugs and high-fives, congratulating each other on a game well played— jumping on each other and dog piling on top of one another.

Isagi couldn't tear his gaze away from (Name) who had been working just as tirelessly throughout the game— an essential presence on the sidelines throughout the night. Her eyes sparkled with pride and admiration as she watched them all celebrate their triumph. Her hands had been interlocked with Anri’s own as they cutely jumped with each other. Both were so excited as Ego stood not too far next to them looking as pleased as he possibly could look for him, his hands had been placed in his pockets with an odd posture. It’s not long before he’s exiting himself amongst all the chaos.

Amid the post-game frenzy, Isagi felt an overpowering surge of emotion. Ignoring the paparazzi cameras and the cheering crowd, he made his way to (Name) on the sidelines. He had no clue what he was doing, his feet seemingly moving on their own as he grew closer and closer to where she stood.

With the world as their witness, he gently took her by the hand and pulled her close, their hearts beating in sync but her reasoning with the excitement of the victory and Isagi’s because he was about to put everything on the line.

“Isa..?” (Name)’s voice has always been sweet but he thought it sounded more sugary when she said his name.

With the stadium lights casting a halo around them, Isagi looked deeply into (Name)’s eyes and was swept away by the heat of the moment: he kissed her. Time seemed to stand still as they locked lips.

As Isagi closed the gap between them, his breath hitched, and he could feel the warmth of (Name)’s breath on his lips. Their faces drew nearer, eyes closing in unison, anticipation hanging heavy in the air. His hand, trembling ever so slightly, cupped her cheek, his thumb lightly brushing her skin as he tilted her head gently.

(Name)’s lips were soft and inviting, meeting his with a tender, tentative touch. It was a gentle exploration, like two puzzle pieces finding their perfect fit. Isagi’s heart raced as he felt the electric spark of their connection. He could taste the sweet excitement of the victory on her lips, mixed with the saltiness of the sweat on his lips from the intense game.

Their mouths moved in perfect harmony, a dance of love and longing. Isagi’s other hand found its place on the small of (Name)’s back, pulling her even closer, their bodies pressed together, fitting like two halves of a whole.

The kiss deepened, and their tongues met— a gentle and passionate duel as if they were pouring every ounce of their emotions into this single, stolen moment.

As their lips moved in sync with one another, a hush seemed to fall over the stadium, even amidst the continued celebrations. The two were lost in the intensity of their kiss, the world fading away until it was just the two of them, wrapped up in the heat of the moment.

The paparazzi were momentarily stunned by this unexpected display of affection but they quickly recovered, cameras capturing the raw, unfiltered emotion that flowed between one of the star players and the sweet little water girl. The team began to realize what was happening soon after, confused looks on some, angry expressions on others, and a few who just seemed to be happy for Isagi. The stadium had long since erupted in a new wave of cheers and applause.

Isagi eventually pulled away from her lips, breathless and flushed but wearing a smile that spoke volumes.

“Yoichi..?” She blinks up at him, finding it hard to process what had just happened and more importantly, what it all means. “What was that?”

“I want everyone to know that I want you.” He confessed.

The aftermath of Isagi and (Name)’s intimate moment hung in the air, a delicate whisper during the fading cheers in the stadium. However, the serene atmosphere shattered abruptly as (Name)’s desperate cries pierced through the celebratory echoes. The transition from the warmth of the kiss to the chilling urgency in (Name)’s voice unfolded like a sudden storm.

“Rin—! Rin you’re hurting me! Rin Itoshi! Let me go!” The harsh urgency in (Name)'s voice resonated through the narrow hallway, her plea filled with both physical pain and emotional distress. She struggled to keep her footing, her feet almost stumbling as she tried to keep up with Rin's determined strides. The locker room loomed ahead, its cold, metallic door reflecting the dim light from a flickering overhead bulb.

Rin’s face was a tumultuous sea of emotions. Anger and frustration bubbling at the surface that almost always remained cool and collected, made him deaf to the celebration’s distant echoes. His fingers clamped around (Name)’s upper arm like an unyielding vice, pulling her along a path she desperately wished to escape from. The last thing she wanted was to fight but it was clear that not only had the festivities been forgotten in Rin's mind, but any chance of him enjoying them had been cruelly dashed. Not like he was the celebration type anyway.

The tension crackled like static electricity in the space between them. Despite the lingering thrill of the victory, the atmosphere inside the locker room weighed heavily upon them, contrasting sharply with the post-game excitement. Amidst the disarray of his teammates’ gear, Rin’s voice dripped with frustration as he confronted (Name).

“You, should really fucking know better, (Name).” Rin’s penetrating gaze remained fixed upon her, the tension palpable between them. (Name) looked upset and disheveled as looked up at him, never once backing away from his gaze. She shot back with a voice trembling with exasperation and frustration, “What do you want me to do, Rin? You don't want to be my boyfriend, but you get angry with me when I get attention from someone who actually wants to be with me! In public!”

Rin's jaw clenched and his brows furrowed in response to her words— clearly, she’s been talking about Isagi. Rin wasn’t stupid, not that they had been trying to hide it well to begin with. “Isagi of all people.”

(Name) couldn't contain her anger any longer, her voice raising as she spoke. She made sure to point a mean finger at him, poking his chest as she did so. “Don't talk about him like that. As if you treat me better than him. You’re crazy!”

Just as the tension reached its height, the locker room door swung open, revealing bewildered-looking teammates as they all trickled into the room. They heard a commotion coming from inside and decided to investigate. Although they had all been listening piled on top of each other seconds before Isagi finally pushed through.

“Did we walk in on somethin'?” Raichi asked. (Name) and Rin exchanged conflicted glances, gazes torn between the intensity of the game and the unresolved issues in their relationship. Rin looked particularly unbothered by the exchange though, it should be a talent with how he can keep his demeanor a thorough constant even in the most stressful situations. Most of the time.

“Yes!” (Name) exclaimed, but Rin quickly retorted. “No,”

“What’s going on?” Isagi asked, closing the gap between him and her. He had a worried look on his face as he looked down at her.

“Nothing, we just had a discussion is all.” She answered.

“No. Let them know what’s mine is mine.” Rin stated, causing her heart to skip a beat. She hated that— her heart often betrayed her brain so often, especially when it came to Rin. She was mad at him!

“Excuse me?” Isagi tilted his head, brows furrowed as he took a step closer in Rin’s direction.

“Please, not right now. We just won a big game..” (Name) said, her voice carrying a heavy solemnity as though she were deeply concerned. She absolutely couldn’t stand when they fought. When any of them fought, really. Rin’s jaw clenched again, but he refrained from saying more for the moment, his gaze locked onto Isagi. It’s at that moment when Rin takes his hand and grabs a hold of her face, turning her head towards him and planting a sloppy kiss right on her mouth— an act that shows his possession of her.

The locker room fell silent as they watched this display of affection, leaving everyone, including Isagi, momentarily stunned.

(Name) blinked in astonishment, her cheeks hot, and her heart raced. She didn’t expect such a public display of affection from Rin, especially during their argument. His actions spoke volumes, and despite the tension that had filled the room, there was a sense of raw passion in that kiss.

Rin finally pulled away from the kiss, his intense gaze still locked onto (Name), as if daring anyone to challenge his claim. It was a bold move, one that left no doubt about his feelings, even if it had created an even more complicated situation.

(Name), her voice shaky but filled with a mix of emotions, whispered to Rin, “You didn’t have to do that..”

In a bold move of Isagi’s own, he closed the distance between himself and (Name), taking her face gently in his hands, and he leaned in to kiss her. The locker room seemed to hold its breath as Isagi’s lips met (Name)’s in a tender kiss.

Isagi felt his body respond immediately to her kiss, his cock hardening against his leg. He could feel her soft lips pressing against him, and he could hear her whine softly into the kiss. Maybe it’d been the heat of the moment, but being watched— having all eyes on him as he essentially marked his territory had him reeling. It felt similar to being on the field.. having someone feel threatened by his very sense of self only for him to claim the goal as his. This felt no different.

“I—” (Name) stood in the center of the room at a loss for words, her heart torn between the two men who both held a special place in her life. She could feel the intensity of the emotions radiating from Rin and Isagi, their heated argument having morphed into something far more complex. The situation had already taken an unexpected turn, and the tensions between Rin and Isagi were undeniable. Rin reached out for (Name) but Isagi acted on the same instinct— both of the men simultaneously closed the distance between themselves and (Name), their lips meeting hers in a kiss that’d been rather rough and unpoetic.

The room descended into a breathless hush as the trio partook in an impassioned, electrifying kiss. It was a tempest of emotions and longings, where Rin and Isagi’s competitive spirits transcended the realm of sport, now manifested in the fervor of their lips upon (Name)’s. Each kiss was an assertion of ownership, a silent declaration of their claim on her heart.

Unspoken desires smoldered beneath the surface, like coiled embers ready to ignite. Both Isagi and Rin may have carried a secret yearning for one another, one that was concealed beneath the shadow of their shared affection and feelings for (Name) and their ongoing rivalry. Perhaps it was a whirlwind of emotions, a silent tug-of-war between jealousy and attraction. Neither dared utter the truth if there were any, and yet deep down there existed an unspoken curiosity about what it would be like to bridge the divide that separated them.

Past the competition, their emotions churned frequently with high ups and low lows. With frustration intertwined, it blurred the fine lines that separated friendship and rivalry. Hours spent together on and off the soccer field had woven a tapestry of connection, a bond that transcended the boundaries of just being teammates but friends. The bond, though sometimes frayed by the throes of their shared affection for (Name), added another intricate layer of complexity to their relationship. It was as if they constantly teetered on the precipice of something more. But truthfully? Neither of them wanted to even entertain the thought. Or so they tell themselves.

The remaining teammates were initially taken aback, exchanging enigmatic glances among themselves. Some wore the cloak of astonishment, while others concealed their intrigue behind veils of confusion. A few remained adrift in the sea of uncertainty, unsure of how to navigate the tempestuous waters of this unexpected turn.

The locker room that was once heavy with tension and discord, had metamorphosed into a simmering crucible of passion and desire. The air itself seemed to shimmer with the intensity of their emotions, like molten steel in a crucible, forging something new from the raw elements of longing and affection.

The taste of desire and longing hung heavy in the air, and what had begun as a spontaneous act was now evolving into something far more passionate and consuming. As the trio’s kiss deepened, the locker room seemed to pulse with an almost palpable energy. The boundaries between all of them blurred, and for that suspended moment in time, it seemed as though everyone knew where this was heading.

Rin’s hands moved to cup her breasts upward, pushing them together before harshly pulling down the babydoll pink top to expose her bra.

“R—! Rin!” It was similar to a chirp, the way (Name) said his name. She looked breathless with her lips glossy with a mix of both Rin and Isagi’s DNA— oh, shedding flustered. Like a sweet little rabbit who got her cottontail pulled by a big bad wolf.

“Shut up.” Is the only thing he muttered into her neck as his large hands continued to grope her.

“Is this really okay, Captain?” Isagi asked, blue irises narrowed deliberately trying to evoke an emotion out of Rin by using his title.

Rin pulled away from her, his chest heaving as he met Isagi’s intense gaze. “It’s not like they haven’t been thirsting after her like mutts.” Rin retorted his voice low and possessive, a defiant challenge in his words.

Rin’s next response was a sly, almost wicked statement. “Give them a show,” he whispered, his words laced with provocation as he locked onto Isagi's gaze, fully aware of the effect his words would have on their audience.

The next moments for (Name) seemed to blur into a haze. Time lost its meaning as she found herself caught between Rin and Isagi— Isagi’s hand found its way to her throat from where he stood behind her. Slender fingers wrapped around her delicate and sensitive neck while Rin’s hands roamed.

“Look at what you did..” Isagi presses his erection into her, his thick shaft snug against the pillowy softness of her ass.

“Yoichi..” She gasped softly, brows furrowed as she was directed to look upward.

“Yoichi..” Isagi mocks her softly, his own voice going up an octave. “Shh. You’re real quiet..” Isagi whispers directly into her ear, his breath hot and shaky as he speaks to her in a lower tone— his words sending a shiver down her spine. His tone, honeyed in arousal and heat, carried a note of urgency that left her heart pounding. “This is how you act with him?” His question held a weight of not only a weight desire but possessiveness; and jealousy.

“She knows her place and her limits,” Rin answered for her as his fingertips skillfully unclasped the heart clip that held her bra together. (Name)’s tits had a delicious drop under their weight, her buds hardened rather quickly not only because of Rin’s stimulation but the temperature in the locker room had been chilly.

Bachira virtually had no qualms about palming himself through his shorts, his cock stiff with a perverted little expression on his face as he watched the scene unfold. Truth be told, this isn’t the first time he’s done something depraved like this. See, Bachira had a bit of a fixation on voyeurism and exhibitionism. It was almost as if he was in the room by himself, enjoying his sight before of him like he were at home watching the perverse bookmarks on his burner account on Twitter. This to him was even more of a treat— not only does he get to watch but he gets the luxury of having others watch him.

“See what your effect is on all of these perverts?” Rin asks, his voice low against her ear. “And yet you still walk around clueless, these little skirts and small tops.”

Isagi makes the next move with hands sliding down behind her waist where fingertips unzip the back of her skirt. His thumbs hook into the material of both her mini and the panties she wore, pulling both garments down in haste.

“Fuck me.” Raichi groaned, he put up a desperate attempt to hold onto whatever sanity he did have but he hasn’t gotten laid in weeks and this is probably as close to (Name)’s pussy as he was going to get. So help him god if any of this gets out to the press he’s going to fucking lose it. He starts palming himself through his shorts too, only gaining the courage to actually pull himself out when he catches a glimpse of Bachira who had been holding his cock at its base, rubbing his frenulum with the pad of his fingertip. Its head was leaky— comically so as it dripped slowly onto the floor below him where he stood. Raichi spits into his hand before he wraps it around him, giving it a firm squeeze before stroking himself slowly. His balls are heavy, it's embarrassing to say that he has to be careful. He doesn’t want to be the first guy to cum, especially in this kind of situation.

The room had been filled with breathy moans and explicit sounds and statements as they all became meshed together in, let’s not mince words: an orgy.

Reo and Nagi seemed to have fallen into their solace between each other, lips locked in a fervent kiss as their clothed clothes rubbed against each other, it wasn’t very long before they’d been frotting bare against each other. Yukimiya follows in both Raichi and Bachira’s footsteps by pulling out his cock and jerking himself off, imagining that (Name) was the one who was touching him, kissing him, making him cum anywhere he wanted to.

Isagi’s mouth is hot on (Name)’s cunt as she sits on the bench, her legs propped up on either side of her to keep her legs open and spread. His pointer finger and middle spread her lips apart as his tongue delves into the heart of her sweet pussy, causing rivulets of her sticky essence to drip down his chin. Isagi was always a messy eater— he was one of those types who liked to eat pussy for his pleasure. He could be between her legs for hours if she let him but she gets a little restless because she ends up wanting to get fucked after her second orgasm on his tongue. Isagi and Rin were different in that regard. It’s not because Rin didn’t want to or like foreplay: he just preferred to fuck because he could do it for hours when time permits.

Rin looks down at her while she holds his hard cock in her hand. Her tongue feels warm, slippery, and wet as she circles it around his cockhead. He watches her build up her momentum as she starts to suck on it instead— she always did this and that alone would make him cum if she tried but she makes it a point to prove she can swallow him whole without gagging. (Name) says it feels more rewarding when he can cum down her throat too— it’s probably what she was working towards right now, slowly taking him inch by inch. She knows her limits though it seems because she’s using her hands with what she can’t get down to.

Rin thinks he likes this position: he’s standing over Isagi in both a literary and metaphorical sense. He’s on his knees serving his girlfriend while she focuses all her attention on him— doing her best to make him feel good. Rin’s compliance to all of this carries a certain weight of unresolved tensions, it feels more like a means of control than the genuine connection between Isagi or any other teammate in this locker room. In Rin’s head, he’s doing them a favor. He tosses a mere glance at the rest, eyes focused on the depraved displays of lust in front of him.

“..Shit. That feels good.” Tabito’s eyes are closed shut as Chigiri’s mouth wraps around the head of his cock and Hiori licks up and down his shaft. The redhead’s looking up at Tabito through lash lines that seem a little too feminine— he’s holding a piece of his hair tucked behind his ear as he slowly envelops Tabito’s growing cock. Hiori’s hands are both wrapped around his shaft and Chigiri’s as they work along Tabito’s cock, often meeting at the top of his cock to share a wet tongue kiss.

Tabito didn’t think he could get any harder but here he is now, trying not to blow his load prematurely all in their pretty mouths. There’s a part of Tabito that feels a small amount of shame— or perhaps something akin to embarrassment as he gets his cock sucked. Maybe it’s the overall absurdity of the situation: the entire team getting essentially cucked by the water girl everyone wants to be balls deep in and the two dickheads who have had a one-up on them all the entire time. Another reason is probably because he’s one of those men who prides himself in being an Alpha male of sorts— bragging about how many women he can pull but once again, here he is getting his cock sucked on by two pretty boys.

Isagi’s lips encircle her clit, applying gentle suction as he slips his pointer and middle into her slit. Warm walls encompass his digits as he rocks them a certain way he knows she likes. (Name) is already finding it difficult to focus on sucking Rin off with Isagi between her legs like this. Her free hand finds its way into Isagi’s hair, giving him a gentle grip as she tries to ground herself. As he continues to suck on her sensitive bud, his actions become more fervent— sloppier and more urgent. Isagi could feel her insides twitching along his fingers, that’s why. She’s close and he wants to be the first one to make her cum in front of everyone. (Name) can’t help but tear her lips away from Rin’s cock, her hand continuing to jerk him off as she looks down at Isagi.

“I’m—!” She nearly chokes on her cry as she feels the initial push over the edge— then the dips come and she’s shaking. “—cumming, I’m cumming..!” (Name) repeats over and over again as she basks in the complete and total absence of control she has over her body in that very moment. It’s pretty— it's so pretty. She almost looks helpless but the sounds she’s making are making them spin. Isagi’s mouth is still attached to her core, following her body as she moves around. She rides out her high like this and Isagi only pulls away when he’s satisfied.

“Hah.. dammit..” Baro has been keeping to himself this whole time. The interesting thing about him is that he’s really a gentleman. He’s never been in a situation like this before but he’s also never been this turned on in his life. Baro also just learned that he likes to watch, his cock has been twitching in his thigh for almost thirty minutes. He’s making a mess in his boxer briefs because he can feel himself getting wet. The way his cock is jumping is enough friction to cause stimulation, when (Name) cums, he has to grab himself at his base to keep him from cumming. Baro looks down at himself, pulling up the inseam of his shorts and underwear to let the tip of his cock peek out. It jumps again, the cool air hitting its shiny and glistening tip as it drools. Precum leaking onto the floor.

The trio shifts their positions so that Rin is lying on the bench while (Name) straddles him, sheathing his cock at its hilt— Rin’s hands on her ass as she adjusts to him. It’s been a while since she’s had him because of a little disagreement they had. Well, in actuality it was everything but little. They hadn’t been “seeing” each other for the past couple of weeks as they usually do because of Rin’s.. approach to how he handles certain things. Specifically when it comes down to having conversations involving emotions and how to deal with them in healthy and effective ways. The “what are we” conversation didn’t go as she’d planned for it to be. He gave her a vague response that resolved nothing which in turn made her spiral, but it’s not like she‘s some sort of loose canon. She had her moments, yes.. but when it came to Rin he brought something nasty out in her that only he could.

“Don’t look at me,” (Name) says softly, her voice carrying a tone of resentment that holds no real weight as she grabs his face to make him look in another direction. Isagi is behind her as he prods his cock between her supple ass cheeks, ever so gently pressing the tip onto her puckered hole. A breathy chuckle escaped his lips when he saw how she jolted upwards, reaching behind her to shoo him away from that part of her.

“Hng— Isagi, not there. It’s been too long..” (Name) looks at him from over her shoulder. Isagi thinks she looks cute like that: brows pinched in a furrow with a pout on her lips she doesn’t even know she’s sporting. That’s alright. Her pussy seemed more appealing anyway, even if Rin’s cock had already been working its way into her. It was going to be nearly impossible to try to squeeze himself into her, Rin was already big admittedly— the last thing he wanted was to hurt her. But Isagi the issue here was that he didn’t like sharing. He leans over, lips connecting to her neck in a sweet kiss.

“Then can you take both in here..?” Isagi’s fingers gently brush against the same pussy that was currently stuffed with Rin’s cock. Isagi almost wanted to scoff— it was big and she was tight enough to make her grip around his shaft. He hated how much his cock was drooling, it was almost a little embarrassing.

“No, Yoichi.. I don’t think I can fit both.” She says. “I’m not prepped at all, pervert..” Her eyes are closed in a hum, as she reaches to hold the back of his neck into place while Rin plays with her clit. His eyes are low and lidded as they hone in on the precious little flower between her legs. He’s starting to move now, slowly, but he’s gotten a bit impatient. The fluttering around his dick isn’t helping either— he’s almost entirely tuned out everyone else.

“Then you’re going to try, right? For me?” Isagi pressed another kiss into her skin and his eyes flickered upward and over to Bachira who had seemingly inched his way over to the three, a bright-eyed look in his eye as he looked at (Name) like she was a pretty prize, adorned with the wrapping paper and bow. Rin gives him a skeptical look from the corner of his eye but doesn’t say anything. Rin tolerated Bachira more than other players for whatever reason. Unfortunately, he thinks that Bachira may have grown on him over time. Rin would never admit that but he’s sure if it had been anyone else, he’d be beside himself but Bachira isn’t touching her so it’s acceptable.

“Meguru,” Isagi hums. He reaches around to grab a hold of her face to make her look at Bachira, placing another kiss on her cheek. “She’s so pretty, right? Prettier than the last time, you think?” Isagi looks over at him again with a knowing grin.

Last time.. that was supposed to be a secret between the three of them. Now she’s feeling embarrassed and a little bit like a slut. But it was a one-time thing! That night they were supposed to be toning Bachi’s hair, they had a little bit of wine— too much wine. One thing led to another and she ended up getting spit roasted with Isagi in her pussy and Bachira taking her mouth. If she wasn’t so out of her mind she’d say something— or maybe she wouldn’t, it was the truth after all. But they are going to get in trouble afterward, they made a promise and totally broke it.

“Mhm~! ♡” Bachira nods. “She’s a tough girl, she can take it.”

“We didn’t get to try last time but you think (Name) can fit two inside, right? She's doubting herself like a ..silly girl? Is that what you call her when she’s being clumsy?” Isagi flashes another smile, yet Bachira succumbs to his impulses, bridging the distance to share a kiss with (Name) before tenderly transitioning to Isagi, his lips moving in a gentle but firm kiss.

Rin doesn’t say much. It's odd but he’s soon pulling himself out of her so that they could shift into another position— one that could accommodate her more comfortably than the one she was in currently. (Name) assumes a reverse cowgirl position, while Rin supports one of her legs from behind the knee to establish a stable anchor. Isagi mirrors the action, both positioning their cocks at her pussy— one that seems too tight to fit both. Bachira’s been hovering, leaning over to spit right onto her pussy.

“You can do it! ♡” Bachira chirps, a chuckle adjacent to a giggle leaves his lips when she reaches out for him— he lets her with no question. She held onto the nape of his neck, fingers intertwined in the soft brassy hairs. The shuffle of footsteps echoed as the onlookers encircled the four, creating an impromptu audience. It’s almost like a.. circle jerk but with a view. All of their dicks are in hand, stroking themselves to the sight. The attention is getting (Name) off, she’d be lying if she said it wasn’t. Her cunt was visibly pulsating around nothing, her need to be absolutely filled to the brim was growing and the task of taking two cocks into the same hole seemed less daunting and more like a necessity.

“Holy shit..” An involuntary hiccup escapes her, accompanied by a restrained moan. It's the sensation of something notably large making its initial attempt to enter. They both push into her inch by inch and the grasp on Bachira’s hair is far less friendly. He doesn’t mind though, it feels good for him. “Oh my god—!”

It's a stretch that initiates with a subtle and controlled tension.. gradually intensifying until it teeters on the edge of discomfort. As she reaches the peak— both of their lengths halfway, a satisfying ache ensues, accompanied by a paradoxical sensation of relief as the apex passes. It’s a blend of pain and pleasure, as the muscles protest against the stretch while simultaneously yielding to the therapeutic pull of her walls, leaving her with a lingering sense of being full beyond imagination and gratification.

“Christ..” Rin says under his breath, letting out an almost shaky breath. It’s tight— it’s probably the tightest thing he’s had since he fucked her ass the first time. It’s an enveloping pressure that molds around him, both hard and soft. It seems as though his cock and Isagi’s are battling for room within her but there just simply wasn’t any.

“Look at you..” Isagi on the other hand can’t get over the view— none of them can. He’s only ever seen things like this in hardcore porn, never in real life. She’d stretched beyond belief, both cocks inside of her completely to the hilt. He doesn’t know what to do with himself other than stare and wait for her to permit them to move. Bachira’s making good use of himself by playing with her clit, lips locked onto her own as she reached to play with his cock.

She breaks away from his lips momentarily to look at Isagi with a darkened gaze before uttering the words, “Fuck me.” Rin misses not a single beat as he reaches upward, grabbing a handful of her hair at the base to yank her head back. Both men start fucking into her at a worrisome pace, one would think they’d be a tad more generous but it was clear there had been no more patience left. They wanted to cum in a hot and willing cunt. Their cocks both push and pull at alternating times, hitting different targets deep inside of her. She’s not catching a break between the two of them and it’s making her vision hazy.

Chasing after a high becomes the focal point of everyone’s agenda. Every touch seemed to be heightened amongst everyone, sending waves of euphoria through each of their bodies— there a sense of urgency surged through the air as something inched closer and closer. Her vision had been completely obscured by the overwhelming euphoria building in her core, the harsh lighting of the locker room becoming almost soft and blurred. Her tits jump at every impact of a pump, hardened buds getting licked and sucked on by Bachira. Some images she can make out when she comes to like: Baro, Yukimiya, and Raichi stroking themselves, Reo bent over on all fours while Nagi fucks him from behind, Chigiri and Hiori in a 69 position while Tabito alternates between Hiori’s ass and Chigiri’s mouth.

Unfortunately, she can’t hold it together anymore. It's the peak of pleasure, sensations converging into an intense climax—a symphony of ecstasy where every touch, breath, and heartbeat harmonize in sublime rhythm. Her mouth hangs open into a sweet little ‘O’ and she starts to shake uncontrollably, her cunt becomes a geyser as she squirts on Isagi’s lower half in short bursts. It’s a chain reaction: guttural moans breaking out as the onlookers begin to cum, multiple cumshots had and soiling the floor where they stood.

“Ah— fuck.. fuck.. fuckfuck—” Isagi’s hips start to falter terribly as he sputters out curses. Both he and Rin cum at the same time, filling her abused and beaten hole with their seed. Isagi doesn’t know it, but he’s overstimulating both (Name) and Rin because he’s the type to fuck through his orgasms until he absolutely can’t move anymore. Their cum sloshes inside of her and it’s enough to start oozing out of her, down her ass, and dripping onto Rin’s balls.

“Stop fucking moving.” Rin barks at Isagi before he eventually tires himself out, he slips out of her first then Rin carefully follows suit. The rest oozes out of her slowly and onto the bench, shallow breaths making her chest rise and fall.

As the echoes of pleasure subside, a serene aftermath settles in, wrapping the room in a cocoon of shared intimacy. In the dim glow of the aftermath, bodies rest, breaths sync, and the hazy ambiance settles.

She deserves a promotion.

© all content belongs to planetsano 2023. do not modify or repost.

[hansoeii]

Several things: -LOVE your art, it’s amazing! Especially the one with Crowley and Aziraphale under the umbrella - which software do you use? Your art always look SO gorgeous (cheeky quote from GO right there lol) - how did you get so good at drawing?And thank you for encouraging other people to keep drawing and being so kind as I sometimes can’t help but compare my sketches to others and feel silly, but I guess it’s just a learning curve… Thank you so much for bringing your art to the world!😊

Thank you so much!!

I use Clip Studio Paint for drawing and Photoshop for small adjustments!

2. Haha thanks! Honestly...it's the hyperfixations. I managed to improve a lot in just a year because I've been drawing SO much cos there's so many shows and movies I became obsessed with that I wanted to create art for. So by drawing a lot I just naturally improved. For example these two Illustrations are just a year apart:

I actually didn't actively try to improve, it's been a while since I did proper studies (I just don't really have the time for it between freelancing and art school), it just happened.

But I can absoluetly recommend going on YouTube and look for some art tutorials if you actively want to start improving! There's some channels that helped me so much back then:

moderndayjames

Incredible shape language and super insightful tutorials on all kinds of topics! I learned so much from him.

Ahmed Aldoori

So many awesome tutorials on so many different areas of art. Love it.

Marco Bucci

Incredible tutorials on color theory and understanding how color works in general! Learned SO much from him!

Sinix Design

The OG tutorials I began learning from. I watched his videos religiously as a teen. I adore his painterly style and adopted it in some way, haha.

Ethan Becker

This dude sometimes drops these tiny art tips that just completely blow my mind and that I adopt immedietly. He's super entertaining but also such a great teacher.

And I can also recommend checking out this book by James Gurney if you want to get better at colors!

And for anatomy I highly recommend the Morpho books!

But improvement doesn't only come from drawing a lot. A lot of the time I don't draw for a while and just study the world and artists around me and suddenly I improved when I get back to drawing. Don't ever overwork yourself to the point that you don't enjoy what you do anymore. Take breaks and listen to your body!

I learned to try and not compare myself to other artists, which helped a lot. Through conventions and social media I made so many lovely artist friends and realized how we're all struggling in a very similar way. A lot of us don't even really know what we're doing most of the time, haha. But we help each other out, it's such a wonderful community. I think when you're not actively part of the community it tends to feel like other, more successful artists are some kind of art gods that have perfected the craft and never struggle. But believe me, all the artists you admire go through rough times all. the. time. Sometimes what they do feels easy and natural, other times (more often than not) it feels like you have to try and learn how to walk all over again and you start to doubt your abilities. I personally go through that so many times.

So what I'm trying to say is that instead of comparing yourself to the artists you admire, learn from them instead. Ask questions, befriend fellow artists, study the artists you enjoy and just have fun with it!

And finally I thought it would be fun to share some of my horrendous Johnlock fanart from a decade ago for some motivation:

I hope my answer didn't overwhelm you, but I thoight it would be nice to give a more detailed answer!

Have a wonderful day and keep drawing! :)

[mybelovedwoo]

Boyfriend hongjoong or mingi PLEASE?

Thank u so much for your request! I will do Hongjoong now as he was the first one you wrote, but I will do Mingi in the future too!!

kim hongjoong as boyfriend - headcanon

headcanon, romance, fluff, smut

gn!reader x bf!atz

wc. ~0.8k

an: you can request headcanons if you want to (please only headcanons)!! if you want to be tagged in any of my fics you can apply here <3

masterlist

-the always admires you from far away type of boyfriend

-like he always has such heart eyes for you whenever you go somewhere together, you are talking about something in a group setting, he always listens to your every word carefully, he never disappoints you, or he sees how good you're getting along with his members, he smiles at you with that lovesick smile of his

-but sometimes he can get a little jealous too, we know he's an extreme scorpio, like is anyone surprised honestly?

-probably spends most of his time at the studio, but doesn't mind when you accompany him, indeed loves it, he can get a little distracted with your presence sometimes tho

-you always feel so special, because you're the first person to hear some songs of his, in return, you always try to encourage him and tell him how amazing of a producer and songwriter he is (it's not a lie)

-after he is done working in the studio, he usually takes you out for dinner, refuses you to pay for anything, and gets mad when you tell him that you want to pay this time

-you would think he is not much of a fan of physical affection, but it's so different with you, the only place he wouldn't give you that much of it is in public places and in front of his friends and family

-he would hold your hands wherever you go, occasionally he raises yours to his mouth and gives it a quick peck, so you can feel his love even when you're in public

-you wouldn't know this, but he likes to brag about you, telling his friends how wonderful his significant other is

-very protective of you, because he thinks you are his treasure. he would dead-stare everyone who would even look at your way

-would think about your future together, and moving in with you the first month of dating, but would never actually tell you, because he doesn't want to scare you off or something

-his biggest fear is that he can't show you how much he loves you. if he can see any doubt or insecurity, he will reassure you with the most meaningful words and wouldn't ever leave your side in a moment like this

-you two often joke around with "being mean" to each other. it's just you guys' thing. he is definitely into it when you are being mean to him

-always asks you to paint his nails, and he always does the same for you. picking out the colors for each other. also picks out the other's outfit just for fun, but ends up changing the whole thing because it "wasn't him"

-the type of boyfriend that would give you his jacket, saying he isn't cold, but would actually be freezing

-he brings you home little gifts from everywhere he goes around the world, saying "I had to buy it, it reminded me of you baby"

-would stare straight into your eyes before he kisses you, holds your face with one hand at your jaw. also the first thing he does is kiss you every time you two wake up together in the morning, he thinks it's really important and the best way to start the day

nsfw +18!!!

-okay hear me out he is a very emotional lover and sometimes he can get carried away by his feelings, but he is definitely a dom in the bedroom, not a hard dom, but not a soft dom (you know what I mean)

-he prefers intense sex, where can get everything out of his head, and the bedroom is the safest place for him to share it with the person he loves the most, he desires passion and intimacy

-doesn't mind trying out new things, as long as you are okay with it too, very open and adventurous

-his biggest turn-on is direct eye contact I'm telling you, this boy is a sucker for it. he loves how he can see every emotion on your face, it is very intimate and vulnerable for him 

-biggest turn off probably power play, he just doesn't like it when somebody is trying to control him, and probably everything that involves pain

-i feel like hongjoong would be very vocal in bed, sometimes having full-on conversations with you, and also even dirty talk, but only in a loving way, he would never be mean to you in such a vulnerable moment

-this man's sex drive is high af, you would have sex at least four times a week, but it's probably more than that, to be honest, literally doing it in every part of the house, in the kitchen, bathroom, living room, on the floor, literally everywhere

-so for positions, i think he would love a classic missionary where he can keep that eye contact but would love a good flatiron where he is doing you from behind but still stays close to you, also one of his favorites would be just scooping you up from behind, just cuddling up and kissing your face all over

-he would get all sleepy after sex, so he forgets aftercare sometimes, he just falls asleep with you in his arms (who would blame this man, he works too hard)

[wolfythewitch]

hi hi sorry to bother you but I saw your prince of egypt stuff and I kind of (did a happy dance because that was literally my childhood)

my question because I feel like I need to ask a question in order to post on this thingy is: how accurate/happy are you with the character designs in prince of egypt, because I for one am very content (they all hot cough cough) but I've heard a few people say that they aren't super accurate or whatever and wanted to get your opinion thanks for taking the time to read this! I like your stuff (the odyssey and illiad sillies are very fun) :)

Uhh art design wise I think they're Lovely. Great shape language and distinct features. I can't say as much for historical design because that's not my forte dhdjd I don't know too much about it.

I found this set of tomb paintings depicting the exodus (I think), though if I remember correctly it was also common to wear cloaks later throughout the old testament as well as headdresses. I think that the colorful design is a mainstay in their clothing, which is interesting when watching the movie and comparing their more colorful outfits to the Egyptian's white. The patterns aren't as shown but honestly speaking as an animation major, animating patterned clothing would be Hell

I'm not fully sure what you mean by accurate, like in terms of outfit or facial features or stuff like that haha

[cemetery-sunset]

Painting the Cullen Boys' nails [headcanons]

divider from: @saradika-graphics

🧣Carlisle

-he will need a little convincing, but only the smallest amount (only because he was worried about his work at the hospital) 

-but you’re his biggest weakness, he will never refuse you

 -will how much he’s seen in his life, he recognizes how little this “feminine” thing matters

-he’s very comfortable with his masculinity so he doesn't mind having some nail polish on 

-he’s always proud to have his nails done by you because they're done by you

-he's very supportive of your interests and hobbies 

-so when you came to him excited to paint his nails, he didn't even think of saying no 

-he very much enjoys and values that quiet time you get together when you paint his nails 

-it's usually filled with quiet conversations and light music coming from somewhere in the house 

-the ambiance of sitting quietly with carlisle is very peaceful and comfortable

-when you ask him to paint yours, he does surprisingly well 

-he has very steady hands, so no need to worry about him messing up 

-he doesn't care about the color, he just cares that you're the one doing it 

⚾Emmett

-when this king is in love, he’s an absolute simp 

-he never refuses any of your stupid antics 

-for being so masculine and strong, you thought he wouldn't like the idea of painted nails but he welcomed it with open arms 

-he actually is the one to paint your nails after you paint his (without even being asked, when his are dry he excitedly grabs the bottle and one of your hands saying “your turn!! :D”) 

-he’s not very good at it, but you both enjoy it

-he prefers darker colors like black or blue but loves whatever you do to him 

-he will proudly flaunt his nails and if anyone says anything negative, he will stand up to them and offer to kick their ass 

-if they ever chip while he’s hunting or something, he will run to you asking to fix them

-you think it's really sweet how much he loves them and how much you both have fun painting your nails together

-he has painted nails the most often

🐴Jasper

-he needs some convincing but when you start painting he honestly could care less 

-it's not that he loves it or hates it, he prefers the actual painting process because he gets to be close to you 

-i mean you literally have to hold his hands to paint his nails, so of course, you're close

-he also is completely weak for you

-anything you ask, ye shall receive 

-including this old cowboy wearing some nice nail polish

-but damn does he look good, you think he somehow looks hotter than normal 

-and you're not shy to voice that 

-he loves your attention and praise, so he's very willing to let you paint his nails again in the future

-he doesn’t really like to paint your nails because he doesn’t like to mess up. But will do it if you asked him to

-the second most likely one to wear your nail polish 

-he likes black polish the most

🎹Edward

-the most reluctant out of the bunch 

-it took him a lot of convincing but when he saw how happy it made you, there's no way he could refuse 

-he doesn't love it, he's very old fashioned and doesn't really enjoy such feminine things

-but he likes being close and having a quiet intimate moment 

-the only part he likes about it is seeing your focused face and feeling your hand hold his

-he enjoys hearing the random little thoughts you have while focusing

-he doesn’t like the time it takes for his nails to dry, so when you’re not looking he’ll shake his hands around at vampire speed to dry them

-also he doesn’t hate the compliments you give him, especially how nice hinds hands look when he’s playing piano

-prefers the fancier, more elegant colors (like gold, or muted tones)

-would have his nails done the least

[radiant-reid]

hi cate!! :)

i would love to request a blurb/thoughts/honestly anything on dad spencer taking baby reid to a daddy-daughter dance 🫶

this look is so very dad!spencer to me

"Okay, how's that?" You ask Maisie as you look at her through the mirror, finishing the final touch on her curls. You fluff it out on her shoulders so she can view her styled hair. "I think it looks perfect."

She's only six, but with her hair curled, a tiny bit of mascara that she begged for painted on her eyelashes, and a fancy dress on, you can't believe how old she looks. She searched for and chose the perfect dress, pink, of course, her favorite color, and puffy, like a princess would wear.

"It's so good, Momma." She agrees, grinning into the mirror with her gappy smile. Seeing her with so much confidence, knowing she looks beautiful, makes you proud.

When the doorbell rings a second later, she squeals with excitement.

"I'll open it, and you wait at the top of the stairs, okay?" You offer.

She agrees, stopping at the top of the stairs to surprise him while you walk downstairs and open the door. As expected, your handsome husband is on the other side of the door, dressed in a suit sharply tailored suit with his hairstyles and a big bouquet of flowers.

"I'm here for Maisie Reid," Spencer says politely.

"Two minutes early." You note, glancing at your watch.

"Enough time that she knows I'm eager, but not too early that she's not ready." He explains.

You hum, letting a smile sneak through. "You're very well trained."

"My gorgeous wife is responsible for that." He tells you with a smirk. that gorgeous wife being you. "So, Maisie?"

You don't even have to call for her and she comes running down the stairs, barely giving him enough time to crouch down before jumping into his arms.

"Daddy!" She cheers excitedly.

"Maisie!" He returns. "You look so beautiful, just like your momma." He looks at you and winks, unsurprisingly not resisting the opportunity to flirt with you. You can see he's a little tearful, just at how grown up she looks.

She looks at the flowers in his hand. "Are those for me?"

"Oh, of course, sorry." He replies, handing them to her. They're basically the size of her whole body, Spencer clearly not sparing any expense. "Are you ready? We have a night of dancing awaiting us."

"Mm-hmm." She agrees, handing the flowers over to you.

You sneak a quick kiss from Spencer, before kissing Maisie on the cheek. "Have fun, little miss. Remember your curfew."

She frowns, not knowing what that means, and Spencer covers for her. "Don't worry, she'll extend it if we bring her ice cream." He promises.

"True." You agree. "Have fun, my loves."

Maisie holds the hand he's offering her. "We will." She says.

Spencer lets her step out the door first. "Did I tell you how pretty you look, sweet girl?"

You hear her giggle as they walk to the car. "You did, silly. You always remember everything."

[spinningwebsandtales]

Vita Nova

Orm Marius X FemReader

Rating: T

Warnings: Spoilers, mentions of death, crying, hurt/comfort, reader has some trauma, suggestive themes, angst, and fluff

Word Count: 4.2k

Fic Swap with @the-marshals-wife

(A/N:) Happy (belated) New Year everyone! And my first fic of 2024 and it turned out to be a whopper! My lovely best friend and I just adore the Aquaman movies and in light of the new movie that dropped around Christmas we decided to do a ficswap together! This bad boy is my contribution and you lucky readers get to read it! I hope I can make the other Orm fangirls happy with this as I honestly had way too much fun writing it as you can see! Over 4,000 words of just Orm goodness! I look forward of sharing more writings in this new year and I'm glad I could open up with this! Until next time happy reading! ~Countess

Reader's POV is in italics.

SPOILERS FOR AQUAMAN AND THE LOST KINGDOM BELOW

DO NOT CONTINUE AHEAD IF YOU HAVE YET TO SEE THE MOVIE!

Orm stood upon the beach, his toes buried in the warm sand as the setting sun painted his features in orange and pink hues. His heart longed for Atlantis once more as homesickness always reared it's ugly head when he was feeling alone. While tension still remained between him and his older brother, deep down he was grateful for Arthur, giving him a new chance at life. With Atlantis finally revealing themselves to the people of the land, he no longer had to be so secretive about himself, except when it came to Atlanteans. He had burned too many bridges that most likely would never have the chance to be rebuilt. He sighed deeply as the warm salty foam washed over his feet.

Orm turned, leaving his regrets and longing to drown in the crashing waves. While he could see why his brother loved the land dwelling humans, Orm normally avoided them as much as he could. Especially when it came to his time on the beach, he rather not be bothered. And despite the world knowing, he still swam in deserted parts of the beaches he visited. His favorite places were around the docks where the shade kept him cool and various sea creatures stuck around. The fish and small crabs made him feel a little less lonely and made everything feel more like home.

Orm's bare feet padded against the planks of the dock as he tugged his shirt over his head. The breeze rippled his blond locks and whispered promises of a good evening swim. His vision staying straight ahead, Orm was preparing to run and dive into the bright blue water when a yelp caused him to stumble and he fell to the dock. He almost slid off when a slender hand caught his wrist and kept him from rolling off and slamming into a boat.

"Are you okay?!"

A feminine voice had him blinking against the pain in his skull before he finally got his eyes to focus. Orm sat up quickly, backing away from the woman looking at him with genuine concern. It was an emotion Orm was unacquainted with.

"I'm sorry I wasn't paying attention," the woman blushed getting to her feet and brushing the front of her shirt and shorts off. A quick flash of annoyance had him glaring before Orm sucked in a deep breath and calmed the raging tide threatening to overtake him. She offered him a hand up and old him would have swatted it away with a snarl, but new him remembered his older brother and took her offered hand. She shuffled her feet before him awkwardly, refusing to look up in embarrassment. Though Orm was worried he was intimidating her, though he wasn't trying at the moment.

"Sorry again," she apologized once more only to break the silent tension between them.

"I wasn't paying attention," it was the most polite thing he could say. "Though I can't help but ask. Why were you laying across the dock?"

Her cheeks flushed bright crimson, a pretty red color, and now she really refused to look up at him, more interested in her bare feet. This in turn made Orm feel more awkward, like he had pushed across some threshold that he should have never even touched.

"You'll laugh," she mumbled. Her gaze quickly darting up towards him before once again looking away. When she noticed that he wasn't going to say anything else her shoulders sagged in defeat.

"I like watching the fish. They feel like they're my friends and they're so peaceful living their lives without a care in the world," she whispered. "I've also always dreamed about Atlantis and going there and now that it is truly real I can't help but long for it even more. Silly huh?"

Orm shook his head and smiled remembering his home fondly, "No it's not. I think it's a wonderful dream."

Though home always brought a smile to his face, in this moment of his life it brought a pang of sadness with it. One mistake had taken his chance of ever seeing that beautiful city ever again. And here he just met a mere human upon an empty dock longing for the same as him. Maybe he had more in common with the humans of this side of the world than he had first realized. She smiled and nodded, happy to have someone not laugh at her for a change. She walked away moments later leaving him to ponder upon the dock as the waves whispered softly against the sand. Then Orm dived in.

Usually Orm moved around a lot. If he liked a place more than others he'd normally stay for a few days. But for reasons he didn't want to know he had stayed in this particular spot for weeks. And it wasn't because the food was anything extraordinary nor was the beach one of the most beautiful he's seen. If he dug down deep inside he knew it was because of that one moment, where he had seen a glimpse of that beautiful humanity that Arthur was always talking about to him. So Orm did what every normal man would do, he kept his distance and watched her from afar. She visited the dock he had found her at nightly, just to talk to the fish and to watch the sun set behind the horizon of the ocean. She would hum tunes, almost stroking the water with her gentle hands. She would hide sometimes as people would come to the beach calling out a name he had never heard. What would shatter his heart more than anything was when she would come some nights crying. His heart would clench as her salty tears dropped into the ocean. He shook his head fighting the urge to go towards her. But she was different, she wanted to know his world, that she had no idea he was from. That he had once been a prince, let alone a king of that world but it didn't matter, not anymore. He was dead to that world and he had to find his place in this one.

It didn't take many times of him watching the lone girl sob on the dock before Orm concocted a plan. Atlantean technology to help humans make the trip undersea had yet to be brought to them. Except for the scuba gear the humans already had invented, but Orm wanted his plan to be perfect. So he would do something that would make his older brother proud and possibly bring an end to his life. To get what he needed he would have to venture back to the Sunken Citadel and hope that the pirates that still lived didn't kill him at first glance.

You didn't know what kept bringing you back to this particular beach, though you had a inkling that it was in false hope of finding that same blond haired man that you had tripped. He was a complete stranger and yet you found yourself hoping to see him once more. So every night you came, no matter how bad things got at home you escaped bringing yourself to this little place of serenity, hoping, waiting, that you would see him again. But every night became a disappointment, though you enjoyed seeing the fish. The sun quickly set seeping the warmth from the Earth but the ocean water still held those waning rays of warmth. The lights of the dock quickly blinked on illuminating the surrounding water so you could still watch the fish swim peacefully by. You hummed a quiet tune as the waves lapped against the barnacle crusted wooden posts. A shadow darted by causing you to suck in a quick breath. Sharks would sometimes come up or a curious dolphin but this creature was too fast to be one of them. Your heartbeat quickened but against your better judgement you stuck your hand back down along with your head, trying to find this mystery that had suddenly come upon you.

Orm had a difficult time in the Sunken Citadel and he had gotten into a few brawls, but he did get what he searched for. It had cost him, but if his well thought out plan worked as well as he hoped, it would all be worth it. He made his way back to the normal spot and he had timed his return just right. As his mystery woman he had begun to adore made her way out onto the normal dock. She was light on her feet and she greeted some of the boatmen, who were leaving, politely before going to her same spot Orm could always find her. She stuck a hand in the water tracing the patterns of the fish below as they swam close to the surface. She had a small content grin on her face as she enjoyed the creatures below the surface. Orm moved his arms slower, trying to keep from interrupting this moment as he was more than happy to watch her for a little while. She hummed a tune while tucking strands of untamable hair behind her ear, only for a breeze to send them back to fluttering. He sucked in a breath letting the peace of her presence wash over him. And then he went under the surface and swam close by and quickly. He heard her gasp and he grinned to himself. He could have a moments fun at her expense, especially with the gift he was bringing her. Despite not knowing what he was she braved the unknown and he had to admire that about her. She was proving his theory of humans being a cowardly race wrong every moment he watched her.

You searched timidly for any sign of the shadow you had seen. Your eyes darting across the eerily still waters. You were about to pull yourself back up onto the dock when an arm breached the water and grabbed onto your wrist. You screamed yanking yourself backwards and the person attached to the hand around you came up with your panicked movements.

Orm laughed loudly at your terrified face while he treaded the water. He had never been one to play tricks as he had been trained as a prince of Atlantis, but he found it quite fun. The woman he had yet to put a name to a face laid on her back panting, trying to regain some form of control.

"Why did you do that," she screeched once she finally found her breath.

"Think of it as payback for making me fall on my face the first time we met," Orm smirked as he lifted himself from the water easily.

She took in the fact quickly that his upper torso was bare and the form fitting pants only seemed tighter by the fact that they were dripping water everywhere. She looked away, pink coming to her cheeks.

"You come out here every night," Orm said after a few moments of awkward silence.

Her head whipped around and her eyes widened in surprise.

"How did you know that? I never see you around!" Those moments of wishing to see him again, hoping he'd be around, and he had been hidden from her the entire time.

"I was," Orm paused. He knew he couldn't just tell her that he had been watching her from afar. But he didn't want to lie. "I was swimming."

"Swimming?" Now she was suspicious of him. As she rightly should, though they had already met once he was still a stranger.

"I'm a decent swimmer." Understatement of the century Orm thought to himself.

"I can see that," she gestured towards him before darting her gaze away once more.

Orm chuckled. He liked that little of color that would pop up in her skin. He found it endearing and despite himself his heart began to pick up speed. He offered out a hand and she glanced at it warily.

"I'm Orm," he offered in greeting. "Orm Marius. I should have introduced myself that first day we met."

She laughed, taking his offered hand. "(Y/N). And I should have thought of it too. But I did almost make you faceplant into the water. Though it seems like it wouldn't have bothered you so bad if you had."

Orm shook her hand, reveling in how smaller it was compared to his. "Do you mean to tell me that you wish you had let me fallen into the water now? Instead of rescuing me?"

"Well after you just basically scared the daylights out of me, yes."

Orm pouted playfully, "And here I brought you a gift."

"A gift?!" Once again those beautiful colored eyes glowed in delight. It sent his heart a flutter and he could have sworn it skipped a beat. Is this what his mother had possibly felt when she looked upon the man that fathered Arthur?

"I think I am rather partial to it now," he teased. "Maybe I will just keep it for myself."

"You can't just say that you brought me a gift and then keep it for yourself. That's mean," she whined.

Orm couldn't keep stringing her along though he was finding it fun just to get a rise out of her. He brought the gift from behind his back and he wasn't expecting her to jump up and down. Her confusion was to be expected and he found himself grinning once more. She was so expressive, he found it endearing.

"Your dream of seeing Atlantis stuck out to me and their technology is above what your people have. I wanted to show you a part of that life even if it is just a small glimpse."

He was revealing himself. His heart was almost leaping out of his chest. He had kept his identity a secret, revealing nothing to the humans he had contact with. She would be the first and he didn't know what to do if she didn't accept. She placed her hands on the oxygen helmet, a question on her lips. But without a word he once more grabbed onto her wrist and lead her to the end of the dock. She wordlessly tugged the pirated good on her head and with no hesitation followed Orm into the water.

Orm dived down, keeping a good grasp on her hand, their fingers interlaced as he didn't want to hurt her by tugging on her joints by the speed he could swim at. The oxygen mask was working like a dream and despite the time of the evening the moon was doing a good job of lighting the sea life below the ocean. She gasped in awe at the sea creatures and plant life below. But mostly she gaped at him.

"You are," she hesitated saying the word.

Orm nodded. "I am."

You absolutely couldn't believe your eyes. A true Atlantean. It was everything that you could have ever dreamed of and as he kept you from floating away this moment was more than you could have ever dreamed of.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you before," Orm didn't want anything left unsaid. This was his chance. His chance to be himself and to stop being so alone in this world that he was learning more about every day. His time in Atlantis was done and now he was going to have to start anew. Maybe you were that new chance that he had been needing for a long time.

"It's okay," she answered. Her voice muffled in the helmet. Fish swam by coming near to Orm, pecking at his arm. He shooed them away gently causing her to laugh. "You don't have to explain yourself. We had just met that day and even at this moment we are still basically strangers. But I'm glad I met you Orm and your secret is safe with me."

"Thank you," he choked. Gratitude had been lost on him long ago but as he looked at this young woman, so genuine and beautiful in his eyes, that feeling was no longer a stranger. "Would you like to see more of my world?"

"Absolutely!" No hesitation and no fear. Orm kept her close, keeping her safe as he swam them further out into the sea.

Back on dry land you couldn't believe what your eyes had beheld. The world under was far beyond anything you could have ever imagined as Orm helped steady you. Spending that much time in the water had left your legs a little wobbly and you glared at Orm walking perfectly though he did have to take a moment to cough up water. You held out the helmet towards him but he shook his head pushing it back into your chest.

"Keep it," Orm insisted. "I want to take you out more now that you have it. There's so much more I wish to show and tell you. I hope that you don't mind."

She shook her head, stepping towards him. "I would like that so much."

Without a second thought she embraced him, squeezing Orm tightly before backing away, that familiar blush coming back to her cheeks. Reaching out Orm brushed a stray droplet of sea water off her cheek.

"Until tomorrow," he whispered and she nodded quickly.

Days had followed that moment before it had turned into weeks. Orm met with her daily, the helmet in tow every time as they explored together. She the underwater world he had grew up in and him emotions never before explored. Orm knew he couldn't take her far below the surface as he wished. He was trying his best to get a suit that would keep her from being crushed by the water pressure or freezing from the depths, but it would take some time. The helmet was easy to obtain, well easier than the suit. But she didn't complain nor did she beg him for more. Always content with their outings he began to realize that he looked forward to every second they spent together every day. It didn't take Orm long to figure out the emotions he was feeling and everything seemed to fall into place. She was beginning to swim closer to him as every day passed. Gentle touches and encounters that would leave her in awe and him trying to not overstep his bounds.

She swam closer keeping to his side as the day began to wan and like everything good in life their time together was ending that day. Orm always took his time bringing them both back to shore whenever it was time to head back in. She never seemed to be in a hurry herself and it had Orm wondering on things that he couldn't ask her when they first me. He wondered why she came by herself every day and those moments she had hid on the dock as several people had come searching, yelling her name. He wondered at the days that she had came crying as if she could no longer smile. And now that he had gotten to know her more it was something he could no longer keep himself from asking about.

Back on shore she removed the helmet and rung the sea water from her hair. Orm stayed near as he gathered up the courage to ask her. He was about to ask her about something she had yet to give up willingly and he didn't want to cause her to shut him out. He honestly didn't know if he could take losing her. He breathed in deeply gathering up all his courage, he stepped closer and grasped onto her shoulder to gain her attention and steady himself. She grinned up at him before it fell at the seriousness in his blue eyes.

"What is it," she asked covering his hand with hers that still laid upon her shoulder.

"Why do you come to the docks every day? And why do you hide from the people that call out to you and cry on some days?"

There he asked and he felt faint as she looked down at the waves lapping at their bare feet.

"You saw those moments too?" She whispered.

"I did," Orm confessed. " I've come to care for you these past few weeks and I can't help my curiosity getting the best of me. Knowing that you hurt or have any reason to hide is too much for me to bear."

She paused for a moment, gathering her strength. "I was in a bad relationship. I got out of it but the pain is still there and some days are worse than others. I find peace out here and that's why I always come and then I met you. And despite me telling you why that day, you didn't laugh at me like he and several other people did. I was really glad. You made me happy. Part of me was hoping that I'd get to see you again and yet I was afraid of getting hurt again too."

"That was brave," Orm cooed bringing her into his arms. He was warm despite the lack of shirt and all the time spent in the water. She shook from the cold and from telling things that had been hard on her. "You're the bravest and kindest person I have ever met."

"I'm not really," she answered.

"You really are," Orm breathed. "I'm the coward. I didn't like this part of the world at all. I tried to destroy it because of my older brother. I blamed him for a lot of things and I hated him. I still don't love him as a little brother should but my hatred cost me. I was prince of Atlantis once and I was even it's king for a short spell. But that was taken from me and now I am thought of as dead. I cannot go back there because I have officially been killed in action." Orm sucked in a deep breath as he feared what you would do now that you knew about his darkness, though he kept going. "This is both my punishment and my new life. This is both my brother's way of blessing me and cursing me. But I don't see it as a curse anymore, not that I know you now."

"Orm," she sniffled.

He tugged her in, her trembling body pressed to his as he tried to will any form of comfort into her smaller body. He felt lighter and more at peace than he had ever felt and while she held onto him tightly, Orm lost the battle on his emotional restraints. Holding her out he took in the sight of her, clearly seeing everything about her for the first time. And for the first time in his life, he felt truly loved. Not for being royalty of Atlantis or because they had to. Genuine love that asked for nothing in return. He leaned down towards her his stature always towering over her and it wasn't until his lips met her warmer ones did the fireworks start shooting off in his head. She didn't shove him away and she didn't protest so Orm pulled her closer. Deepening the kiss as he could taste the salty water still on her mouth and the scent of the ocean breeze on her skin. In that moment she was everything to him and he could want for nothing else as long as she stayed. She cupped his cheek, stroking his skin before Orm finally pulled away. His chest heaved and he couldn't bring himself to give her up just yet. He continued to hold her against his chest, not ever wanting this moment to end.

"Is it okay that we start a new life together," her voice quivered in uncertainty. She felt like she was going too fast or overstepping her bounds.

"I think I would like that more than you know," he agreed. This was when his life started. That new beginning he wanted for so long, that he dreamed about in that prison cell. This was the moment he longed for and had no idea. That moment he met her had been fate and had lead him to this moment. Their days together didn't have to end when their feet touched the shore, it was only the start of something on the shore. While he was her guide in the water, here on the land and in the midst of people it was her turn to guide him. She took his hand, taking the responsibility for teaching and leading in stride. They would learn together what this life meant and what it meant to know each other and keep together through thick and thin. Orm had baggage and come to find out she did too. But Orm didn't see that, he saw a woman who could light his way. She saw a man that had found redemption and was looking for a way to claim it. The sun had set behind them on the beach but the dawn was rising before them as they left hand in hand towards the life they would find together. Like two ships destined for each other, a new life was just beginning.

[sebsbarnes]

Hi there!

I first of all wanted to start off by saying that I’m absolutely obsessed with your work- it’s amazing!!

Secondly, I was wondering if I could make a request?

Can I request a tangerine x reader where they’re out at a bar or something and there’s this guy being really pervy and creepy and just won’t leave her alone?

Obviously the reader can handle herself but they just got back from a long and tiring mission, and she quite honestly doesn’t have the energy.

So of course tan comes to the rescue 🤭🤭

I hope this is okay, and if not please feel free to ignore this!!

Have a wonderful day love and don’t forget to drink lots of water <33

heey!! i really appreciate the kind words, it keeps me going! i hope you've had a good day/night and if not tm will be better! and i hope u enjoy this!

bar fight || tangerine

tangerine x f!reader

warnings: harassment, fighting

word count: 1.6k+

masterlist

a/n: im drawing inspo from something that happened to me one time at a bar which will be the reason tan steps in here but of course tangerine was not there to save me although that would've been lovely

"just one pint! two, two! i swear and then we all can leave," lemon pleaded, "we can leave the second i finish it. i'll even take the last sip on the way out the door," he tried enticing you, rubbing his shoulder up and down against yours.

"i reek, lemon. and tangerine looks like he nose dived into green and purple paint," you grimaced slightly at the bruises forming on tan's face.

lemon grabbed your wrist dragging you closer to the bar doors, "is it even a real bar if at least ten people don't smell awful and your shoes don't stick to the floor?"

the color of your eyes disappeared into the back of your head, "let's go."

lemon did a little victory dance before swinging the door open which tangerine held for you to walk in. the fatigue was riddled on both of your faces. the three of you had just gotten back into town after a long and very successful mission. you were all for celebrating but tonight you'd rather celebrate with a burning hot shower.

"you 'right by yourself? i'm going to head to the balcony for a few," tangerine asked, waving his pack of cigarettes in the air.

"yeah go for it, i'll manage," you replied. tangerine gave you a small nod before turning his back and sliding outside.

the inside of the bar was packed and you were shuffling around with your shoulders pulled in to try and avoid hitting people. it was loud, smelly, and yes, the floors were grossly sticky. it only annoyed you more, but, you tried having a positive attitude about it. 'two drinks' is all you kept telling yourself. after what felt like years you made it to the bar. you were sandwiched against a girl with blonde hair and a guy who weaseled his way in between you and an older gentleman. you could feel his eyes burning holes in the side of your head and the last thing you wanted to do was look over, but, it was becoming too much.

"hi!" he nearly yelled as you glanced over quickly.

"hey," you said curtly, bringing your lips into a straight line.

"i'm craig. what's your name?" he asked leaning in closer to you. you gave him your name, refusing to look back at him as you felt his eyes examine you. the drink you ordered appeared in front of you and you scribbled your name on the receipt.

"what's that you're drinking?" craig asked but you pretended not to hear him as you slinked into the crowd, hoping to lose him.

it worked for a while, you found some space near a wall to stand. there was a group of girls next to you singing loudly and dancing around. you couldn't lie and say it wasn't infectious as one of the drunk girls grabbed your hand and started dancing with you, which of course you joined in. it was fun and it kept your mind off how tired your body was.

"thought i lost you there!" you flinched away, startled, by craig's nervous laughter beside you. you looked down at the man who stood inches below you and gave him an award-winning fake smile.

"you're very pretty," he said puffing his chest out slightly.

"thanks."

"you don't talk much, eh? is it because you're nervous around me?" craig asked his eyes looking down at your legs.

"just tired!" you exclaimed with fake enthusiasm, gulping down the tequila in your cup.

"you seem a bit lonely, are you by yourself tonight?" he persisted, inching closer to you with each word despite you stepping to the side each time.

"nope!" you retorted, popping the 'p' and turning to find the bathroom.

you stayed in the bathroom for a few minutes and finished your drink. the eyebags seemed to protrude out of your face as you examined them in the mirror. now, lemon had to almost be done with his drinks. that man can pound drinks back. so, with high hopes you left the bathroom to go find a seat at the bar and wait until lemon found or texted you or hopefully tangerine was done smoking.

there was a vacant stool in the dead center which you jumped on. your elbow rested against the bar, head in hand, absentmindedly watching the tv in the corner. it was a boxing match that you had zero interest in but it provided enough entertainment. you shut your eyes tight as you felt the familiar, unwelcomed, presence over your shoulder.

"look, i think you are really pretty. hotter than anyone else here and look at me. any girl would want me and the fact you're trying to play hard to get is starting to really piss me off," craig ranted but you refused to turn your head and pretended like the noise of the bar drowned his voice out.

"you're right, i'm sorry. that was rude of me, i apologize. i just noticed you the moment you walked into the bar and i needed to talk to you. you're really beautiful and i know i'd treat you right. whoever you're dating must not be treating you right because i can feel that you want me."

tangerine blew out one last cloud of smoke and tossed his cigarette into the ashtray. it was far more peaceful outside but he knew he had to go in and find lemon, who he knew was more than two drinks in and probably friends with ten more people. tangerine opened the door back into the bar and scanned the room. that's when he saw a man with his hand on your throat.

you ignored craig's presence until you no longer could. he was silent for a few moments after his rant. suddenly, you saw a hand snake into your field of vision and you felt his hand pressing firmly against your throat. you were shocked for a moment before realizing what was going on. craig's thumb and middle finger were applying harsh pressure to your throat making it hard to breathe. then, you felt the pressure shift in his hand from choking to pushing. craig pulled you to the ground by your throat, your body flying backward off the stool and slamming into the floor.

you saw a figure jump over your body and loud commotion next to you but you were too disorientated at the moment from the wind being knocked out of you. one of the bartenders leaped over the bar and pulled you up and shielded you from the commotion. that's when you realized it was tangerine who had hopped over and started beating craig to the floor. it was like a scene straight out of the boxing match you were just watching. tangerine towered over craig in height and build and the anger in his face was terrifying.

tangerine was throwing the smaller man across the bar with punches. he'd punch craig in the face to which he stumbled and then tangerine would trip him. his body would fall to the ground and tangerine would pick him up by the shirt before launching him into the now vacant stools.

"please!" craig pleaded, blood running from his eyebrow. tangerine grabbed the back of his neck and slammed his face into the bar.

"you like hurting women? huh?" he screamed, "you think you're so tough, look at you now! fuckin' pathetic piece of shit. what? it's not fun being picked on and harassed?"

tangerine was raging. his face and chest were red with anger and the vein in his forehead pulsated. he had wild eyes similar to when he was on a mission. you watched as he slipped his hand into his pants pocket, slipping on his brass knuckles. before he was able to crush the bastard's nose lemon swooped in from behind and grabbed tangerine's bicep. the bouncers from outside grabbed craig by the neck of his shirt and kicked his bloody body out of the bar. lemon's hands were on tangerine's shoulders trying to calm his brother down. finally, tangerine's chest rose and fell at a normal pace and he turned his head and noticed you. lemon released his shoulders letting him walk to you.

tangerine cupped your face and craned his neck down a bit, "are you alright love?"

you laughed slightly uncomfortable that a big scene was made because of you, "yeah... just shocked really."

"did he hurt you in any other way?" he asked with softness.

"no. no... i didn't think it would turn into that. he had been bothering me the whole time i should've been more forceful but i was just too tired to really care," you sighed.

"no," tangerine said sternly, now eye level with you, "none of this is your fault, okay? that prick should know better than to continue to harass someone who is clearly not accepting their advances. and the fact he fuckin' put his hands on you. fuck i'll..." tangerine gritted his teeth now standing upright and looking towards the door craig was kicked out of.

"tan! no. you getting arrested is not worth it. i'm okay, okay? he got what he deserved and i really don't want to be here any longer," you pleaded, grabbing onto his forearm to force him to look at you.

tangerine caressed your head, his eyes filled with a mixture of sorrow and anger. tangerine guided you outside and when the door shut he pulled you into a tight but gentle hug, mindful of your back.

"i'm so fuckin' sorry love. i should've stayed with you the whole night," he whispered into your hair.

you pulled back from the hug, "mmm no, hey, hey- that's not what we are going to do. you have nothing to be sorry for and i'm thankful for you and not just now when you beat dickheads up for me, but always."

[inkabelledesigns]

Belladonna Nightshade - Halloween Dark Fairy

Base Doll: G3 Twyla from Monster High Clothing Pattern: Dollightful's Asymmetrical Dress (read to the end, I have notes about this)

Happy Halloween everyone! Since becoming a doll customizer, my Halloween dolls are usually related to my favorite indie horror game, Bendy and the Ink Machine. However, seeing as I've completed two Bendy dolls already this year, I felt it was time to give myself a break and try something a bit different. My friends over in DollyAnna's Discord server wanted to do a collaboration, so we decided to all make some Dark Fairies for Halloween!

Belladonna Nightshade is a mischievous fae that loves to play tricks and tempt mortals. That said, she's easily bribed with a sweet treat or two, and will usually let you be if you have a little candy or pastry to give her. I haven't decided what I want to do with her yet in terms of a story, but there is a part of me that would love to have her in my Equinox story.

When you consider the fact that most of my other Halloween dolls are black and yellow, it's no surprise she ended up super colorful. XD Would you believe this is my first doll with rainbow hair? Yeah neither did I, but she is! Part of my style is having really colorful and vibrant dolls, it surprises a lot of people that I've never done a rainbow before, but honestly? I'm glad to have finally tackled one! I'm also glad to have worked with another G3. Twyla is very near and dear to my heart, and I was so psyched to work with her mold! You can't see it in any of these photos, but I used glow in the dark varnish on her eyes and neon markings, so that her eyes still glow like the original. I will say, this doll has a lot more acrylic paint than my others, just by the nature of I don't have any pencils in neon colors. It was nice to get the practice in, I feel more confident than I did before in my brush skills. It was also nice to have a doll with dark scleras for a change! I haven't done that since I made Dreamer, it's surprisingly fun to draw on!

I was inspired by a LOT of different things with this one, and I went back and forth on my concepts a lot. Black light skeleton make-up, butterflies, fairies with non-traditional wings, candy, jesters, these were all sources of inspiration, and I think most obviously of all, Dollightful herself. This wasn't intentional, but I ended up using a doll of one of her favorite characters, with a lot of saturated colors which we know she loves, and even her dress pattern! I've been wanting to make this garment for ages, and finally I had a reason to try it!

So those of you who know how this pattern works are probably asking "Kat, how did you make this fit a G3? This dress is supposed to fit a G1 Monster High doll!" Believe it or not, Requiem Arts has a method for easily adjusting G1 patterns to fit G3 bodies. It's as simple as scaling a pattern up to 104% and printing it that way. It's meant for her garments, but I don't see any reason why it wouldn't work for other doll patterns. So I tried it with Katherine's dress, and I'm happy to say it worked out just fine! I think I probably should have adjusted a bit more on the skirt though. This outfit is essentially two pieces, and the skirt with all the ruffles is a little tight around the booty, it could have used a little more sizing up. So if you own this pattern and want to try this yourself, do keep that in mind!

Do let me know what you think! I had so much fun working on Belladonna, she's so vibrant and fun, I wanna try more fairies like her someday. I also need to try using props more. I got these pumpkins and hay bales on sale, and it was fun using them to craft a little temporary set for photos.

[himbocoups]

˗ˋˏ YUCK! ˎˊ˗ | 18+ Only (Part Two)

synopsis: how can you remain friends with benefits with someone who turns his plushies around during sex, pouts when you don't kiss him goodbye, and spends his time occupying your mind when all you want is for him to leave you alone?

pairing: lsm x yn (gn afab)

genre: fluff, humor, romance | m, smut

tags: alcohol/food - reader also briefly blacks out, costume party, cursing, domesticity, fwb, sexual innuendos, showering together, yn un-alives a spider, university au | cowgirl, cunnilingus, dirty talk, fingering, handjob, hickies, love making, pet names, pnv, praise

wc: 11.5k

a/n: hi this is part 2/2 of yuck! thank you all so much for waiting. I honestly had so much fun writing this, and I hope you have fun reading. lmk if I missed any tags in part one or two. comments and reblogs are super appreciated!! pls pee after sex so you don't get an uti ♡ -nu

yuck! - part one

lipglossjun's masterlist

He came to your door unannounced, knocking loudly on your front door and causing you to jump in your seat. Three sharp knocks against the door using his middle knuckles and then a few friendly taps because he realizes he's standing in front of your door and not his resident’s door. The sound echoes loudly inside your lonely apartment but isn’t loud enough to alarm your neighbors because he purposely leans his side against the door to diffuse the sound and vibrations. You can’t blame him for his habit - he’s used to knocking on so many doors in one night that the freezer part of his mini fridge is stocked with frozen sponges in plastic baggies so he can ice his swollen knuckles at night. You don’t even have to look through your peeping hole to know it’s him, but it’s weird because you know he should be on-call today. Still, the knocks are enough to scare you into thinking you’re still dorming in the universities.

He tells you he has an employee banquet a few days before the break and was worried that his makeup might smudge on his suit. He also brought your go-to drink order from the tea shop across campus, punching in your specific add-ons and adjustments into the kiosk before even deciding what new seasonal drink he wanted to try. You had no choice but to begrudgingly take your drink from him while you shuffled to the side of your door so he could come into your apartment.

"I thought you already knew how to do this.”

You see him hold up your hand mirror to his neck to look at the small bruise you left on the side of his neck a few nights ago. He sits cross-legged on your apartment living room carpeted floor while you sit on the ottoman next to him.

“Only for an everyday base routine for my face,” he frowns while softly poking his bruise. “But my neck makeup keeps smudging and I don’t know how to stop it from getting on my clothes,” he admits while he lowers the neckline of his t-shirt, thinking about the stains he left on his shirt collars.

You uncap the bottle you’re holding and spray the cool setting spray on his bruise. He fans the wet product with his hand while you dig through his toiletry bag for his color-correcting palette. You dip his tiny makeup brush into the palette and bring the product-coated brush to paint over his bruise.

“If you want me to stop marking you, you can just tell me,” you suggest to him while brushing another thin layer. You tap your pointer finger lightly around the harsh edges, blending the colors into his skin. An intrusive thought tells you to poke your finger deep into his skin, but you decide not to.

He ooo’s at how you’re blending the product, angling the mirror so he can better see how you’re working.  

“But I like them,” he says while you spritz another light layer of setting spray. “They remind me of you,” he softly confesses while you blow on his skin. He finds himself angling the mirror again so that the mirror now focuses on your face.

He giggles at the tingling sensation of your warm breath against the cold product, and he smiles to himself when he sees your concentrated expression through the reflection in the mirror – how you purse your lips and how your eyebrows furrow together. If he weren’t an RA, he would proudly wear his love bites as a badge for everybody around him to see. He wants people to tease him whenever they see the bruise poking out of his hoodie when his hood is down. It’s not to let people know he’s getting it on. That’s just not who he is.

But there is that part of him that wants others to know you’re his. He’s tired of soft launching you on his Instagram. That’s what people do when they want others to know they’re talking to somebody. But you’re just his friend. He’s completely fine with showing you off, but he respects your privacy, knowing how much you hate having your picture taken. It’s also not like his closest friends don’t know about his relationship with you, but if it makes you happy, he’ll take it. He likes what the two of you have. And after all, he doesn't care about the pictures. It’s the person whose plate is almost always pictured across from his, the hand holding the ice cream cone, the second shadow under the street light who he cares for.

The bruises feel sore, but he loves how you automatically coddle him afterward, especially after a heated session. You always have that worried look on your face, your lips pouty and frowny. He remembers the number of ridges between your brows when you ask him how he’s feeling. He always tells you that he feels fine, great even, but you always sigh with a defeated look on your face. You’ll walk to the fridge in nothing but one of his old t-shirts and grab him a cold metal spoon. He doesn’t know if the cold spoon hack works, but he lets you do it anyway. He’ll let you do anything if it means he gets to spend more time with you no matter how prickly you may seem on the outside.

Now, he’s spending more time with you on a lazy Tuesday night. He’s done for the day and doesn’t have any RA duties at night because the university recently handed on-call duties for the campus security to handle. On the other hand, you didn’t have anything scheduled for today and spent the entire day indoors. You’re still in your pajamas – a free shirt from a past school event and old running shorts that you never wore while exercising. There are leftover food delivery containers in your fridge from dinner. You tell him the importance of investing in a tinted sunscreen while pushing up your wired glasses. It’s ironic because he knows you haven’t washed your face today or applied any form of sun protection at all. The closer you lean into him to be sure he understands, the redder his cheeks flush. He hopes his mineral powder is enough to diffuse the blush or at least make it seem like it’s the redness from his acne.

Feeling a little hot, he reaches over to grab his fruit slushie-turned-juice from the coffee table and brings it to his lips. He sucks the concoction through the metal straw, letting the cool liquid settle in his mouth so he can savor it before swallowing. You notice the condensation dripping down his arms before he does, and you wipe it away with the edge of your t-shirt without any thought. Your drink is already long gone, finished within minutes after poking your straw through the flimsy plastic lid, washed and disposed of in your recycling bin. He wonders if the taste of his drink would linger on your tongue if he kisses you. And he wonders how the tangy sourness of his drink would contrast or balance the extra amount of sweetness in your tea.

But you’re done concealing the bruise, already sealed it off with the last layer of setting spray. Satisfied with your job, you plop yourself on the other side of the couch and grab the book you put face-down on the table when DK arrived at your front door. You tuck your legs under you and use the armrest as your elbow support as you resume your novel. DK types the makeup steps into his notes app and quickly cleans up his products, looking for something to do.

DK snakes his head between the open gap between your stomach and your book, putting his head on your chest. You pay him no mind, flipping another page while he thinks of a conversation starter. He relaxes into the feeling of your chest rising and dropping and the steady thumping of your heartbeat pulsing under his ear. He asks you what your novel is about while twiddling with the hem of your shirt, noticing it’s still a bit damp from before.

“Smut,” you nonchalantly answer him. You didn’t know much about the novel, but you borrowed it from your friend who kept raving about it while you visited her the other day. She claimed it was better than sex, but honestly, all you’ve been reading so far are overly detailed descriptions of scenery while the main character stares out of the parked car window.

“But you have me,” he teases you. He lets go of your shirt to poke you on your cheek between each word, “You. Have. Me.”

You swat his hand away from your face and subsequently decide to place your novel on his head to use as a stand. He huffs underneath the book, and you snicker at him, leaning down to kiss the top of his head. You think it’s cute whenever he’s being annoying, throwing tiny tantrums whenever he doesn’t have enough attention. You catch yourself lingering on the thought of what his neediness would be like if the two of you were together.

“I’m too lazy,” you flip another page after letting the thought dissipate. “You’re on your own unless you can find another way to do it.”

He huffs and lifts the novel from his forehead to sit up. He turns to you and untucks your legs from beneath you.

“Continue reading your book. Let me eat you out while you rest,” he tells you while pulling your legs with ease so only your upper back and head is leaning against the couch’s armrest. He rests your legs on each side of him.

“Go ahead, but wouldn’t that be a little boring for you?” you ask him while your eyes are still trained on your novel. Even though you spend a lot of time thinking about him manhandling you, his persona easily makes you forget about just how strong he is.

He grabs a cushion from the middle of the couch and tucks it behind your neck. He asks you if you’re comfortable. You give him a thumbs-up, and he gently pecks your thumb before moving your hand back to your book so you can properly hold your book. His little touches and kisses aren’t new to you, but you think it’d be a shame if his kiss transferred onto your pages instead of keeping it to yourself. You choose to hover your thumb above the pages, choosing to use your hand’s round fleshy thenar to hold the pages.

You lift your hips upwards so he can easily remove your bottoms. He tugs them off you as if he has all the time in the world, folding your shorts and undies and setting them on the coffee table like they’re part of the decoration.

“I don’t think I’d be bored,” he kneels himself in front of you and lowers himself so he’s flat against the couch. He gently lifts your shirt higher so it’s past your belly button and proceeds to hook your legs over his shoulders. “Read to me? Out loud?” he asks you while massaging the outside of your thighs.

You lift your book, looking at him quizzically. However, when you see the tiny fading red mark on his forehead from when you used him as a stand, you can’t help but agree to his request. He lowers his head to your core and quickly taps your thighs twice to tell you to read.

“Now, a black flashy standard motorcycle with matching black chrome wheels pulls into the driveway of the auto shop where your car is currently getting its engine replaced. The steady hum of the engine is enough to have every single mechanic in the vicinity turn their –,” you were doing pretty well at reading until DK, without warning, puts his warm tongue flat against your clit, licking upwards until it reaches your nub. “Ah – h-heads to stare at the bike,” you stumble with the last phrase.

He lets his spit drop at the top of your clit, watching it glide downwards along your ridges before catching it with his tongue like a little game of Plinko. He feels you tense under his tongue, causing him to hum in delight. He mumbles something about you doing good before attaching his tongue to you again.

“One of them whistles when the motorcyclist comes to a full stop in front of the open auto shop garages,” you try to ignore the fact that he’s gently blowing wind to tease you, to hear you stumble across your words. There is no way you are going to cave right when you started reading out loud, so you bite your lip when you feel his soft and open lips close around your labia. But you can’t ignore him no matter how hard you try.

He kisses you deeply, full-mouthed while his large hands lock around your thighs. Painstakingly slowly, he buries his face deeper into your cunt.

“Eungh- O-one of them whistles when the mo- oh,” you moan while your mouth hangs open when he circles the tip of his tongue around your clitoris. You move your novel away to look at DK whose entire face is gone. You can only see his bushy black hair.

He continues to circle his tongue around you while your breathing gets shallower. You feel your arousal building, causing your thighs to close around his head. He looks up at you looking back at him with a lustful expression. He sucks softly on your clitoral hood and pries your thighs open with his hands. He only winks, letting go of your skin through his lips before going back to eating your cunt.

“…motorcyclist can loudly rev his engine,” you manage to finish the paragraph with a little sigh of relief.

“Mmmh. Good job, baby,” he groans, praising you against your cunt.

He kisses the inside of your right thigh while moving your left leg off his right shoulder.

You find yourself frowning just a little bit when you think he’s finished, but truthfully, he’s only moving your leg off the couch so he can finger you while eating you out. He puts his right hand on your stomach and uses his thumb to rub your nub.

“I’ll reward you if you keep reading okay?”

He kisses your stomach and moves your shirt down so you wouldn’t shiver from being cold. If only he knew why you were shivering.

“‘Couldn’t you have driven here?’ you frown at your older brother w- ah- fuck. Fuck,” you jerk in your seat when DK inserts a finger in your cunt. You can feel him smile against you as he drags his tongue against your folds while his finger dips in and out of you knowing exactly how to drag a string of moans from your mouth, to make your legs tremble and shake.

All this, and you’re only half a page into reading out loud.

“…while he reaches between his legs to pass you his extra motorcycle helmet as you approach him,” you read while trying to ignore the fact that you’re gripping your borrowed novel with so much force that you probably bent the matte paperback cover. “He shrugs and passes you the helmet which you –��mmm fuck just like that – begrudgingly fit over your head.”

You’re clenched tightly around his two fingers as he curls them in you while sloppily giving you head. You hear exactly how wet you are, how his fingers squelch every time he reinserts them in you, how his coated lips smack against your glistening pussy – devouring you as his life depended on it. You can feel your juices pool around your ass as he uses his left arm to hold you down whenever you lurch upwards. He moans profanities against you, but never at you. When he raises his head to take a break, he makes sure his fingers never stop moving. He always brings you to your high, and you feel so safe with him.

And he tells you you’re sweet. He always does.

Sometimes you’re sweet because he compliments you for doing something for him. He calls you sweet when you’re frowning about somebody criticizing your RBF. You like it when he calls you sweet when he calls you Sweetie. You like it when he says it with flair. You like it when he says it when you show him your project. You like it whenever he says it when you make him take a sip of any of your sugary drinks – the way his face contorts in total disgust, but he still manages to do so with a smile on his face.

He never called you my sweet, but god damn do you wish you could experience what it would feel like for him to call you his. But tonight he describes your flavor as sweet as you like your teas. He can’t stop praising you for how sweet you are, how you’re like dessert on his tongue. And you can’t get him out of your head.

“He leans forward and clicks open the motorcycle’s rear footrests with the back of his boot,” your face scrunches, but you continue. “When he is done, he looks back at you struggling – eungh Kyeom,” you struggle.

He only grips your thigh tighter as he alternates between fingering you and pausing so he can kiss your cunt like he’s kissing you during sex. He flattens his tongue against you and twists it so he can tease your hole. You’re whining and speeding through the last few words of the sentence, desperate to have him in you.

“Whoa. Whoa,” he temporarily detaches himself from you to grab onto your forearm as he raises himself above you. His lips glisten from the wetness, and the color of his flushed face compliment the color of his sore lips. “Slow down baby,” he tells you and kisses your cheek, “Wanna hear your pretty voice, okay? Just read and relax.” He strokes your hair and brushes away the strands covering your eyes, “I’m not going anywhere.”

But you don’t relax. How can you relax when he grips your hips, fingers dipping into your pelvic bone as he shoves his nose against your clitoris, sticking his tongue into your cunt? He bobs his head while he tongue-fucks you, nudging your nub and making your pussy throb even when he briefly comes up for air.

Your vision blurs as he continues to build your high, ignoring you as you continue to call out his name. The words on the page are replaced by stars when you tell him you can’t take it anymore. Heart racing and muscles tightening, you cum while his tongue is in you. And he laps you up as you convulse around him, back arching as you continue to come. He drinks what’s left of you like he’s drinking ice cold water at midnight – you’re insatiable. You moan his name into your book once more, hiccupping as he brings your left leg back on the couch.

“Yn,” he whispers as he removes your book from your face. He puts it on the coffee table without breaking eye contact with you. “What did you call me?”

You don’t hear him as you’re still struggling to catch your breath. Your pussy is still pulsing without pause. Everything is hazy, but you can see him reaching over for something in his cosmetics bag. You close your eyes, still undeniably horny and wanting more.

There is a little bit of shuffling and then the sound of a few light things dropping on the floor. He reaches under you and scoops you up as if you weigh nothing. You briefly remember him telling you about hitting a new PR where he could lift someone a little over his weight. But he brings you to your bed, only switching on your nightstand lamp.

He sits on the side of your bed while he strokes your cheek.

“Yn,” he whispers again while leaning closer to you. “Do you remember what you called me?”

You blink twice at him before slowly realizing. Your lips part in realization, and he only smiles at you.

He opens your nightstand drawer and pulls out a condom and your bottle of lube. Your fingers automatically fly to cover your lips in horror, but he only chuckles at your expression while he positions himself between your legs and leans over you. He coats his wrapped dick in the lube and rubs the remaining gel around your vulva. You whimper at the coldness, and he wipes the remaining bits on his thighs.

He leans over you again and rests his elbows on the sides of your face. He asks you again, gently, if you remember what name you called him.

You nod your head, breath hitching as you stare at him. It’s unfair, you think, to look as pretty as he is under the ugly yellow light your lamp emits. But he looks at you with so much care in the world, and you feel thankful that you’re spending your Tuesday night with him. You thank his lame excuse for intruding on your time for yourself. You thank him for spending time with you, for looking after you, even if he isn’t yours at that moment.

He aligns himself at your entrance while waiting for your answer.

You whisper it almost inaudibly, barely believing yourself as you let the word leave your mouth.

“Say it again,” he instructs you.

“Seokmin.”

You’re not sure if the two of you should have come up with one of those contracts you always read about in books when you first started the relationship. Maybe you should’ve learned from Lara Jean – a binding relationship contract written on notebook paper and signed in pen. There would be a couple of items on the list, a few weird ones, and then a majority of the items being standard ones. Standard item number one? No kissing. Standard item number two? No staying over after sex (sub-line: No cuddling). Standard item number three? No meeting unless it’s for sex. Maybe a weird item would be the option to try pegging. However, the last item on the list? No developing feelings for the other party.

If rules are made to be broken, but contracts signed by people older than eighteen are legally binding, then you would’ve been in jail by now.

His lips are locked against yours, groaning your name as he wraps your legs around his waist. He nibbles along your jaw as he makes love to you, slowly pushing deep inside you so you can feel his balls lay flush against your ass, feeling all of him in you. You call his name through a choked sob, your hands roaming around to find something to grab. Anything.

Your fingers find the back of his head, and you pull on his hair. And he flips like a switch, immediately pounding into you over and over again, praising you and calling you his.

Tonight, the rules have definitely been broken. And you’re starting to realize this isn’t the first offense.

.

“Okay so, I didn’t want to take it off because I wanted to see if my makeup would smudge, but I did it because I knew I was going to get hot.”

“Omg he wanted to keep his shirt on. He’s so quirky!”

“Stoppp,” he laughs while he passes the showerhead to you. “I can’t believe you’re the only person who tried to tell me a joke during sex.”

“It’s because I’m the only person you’ve ever had sex with,” you stick your tongue out at him while you rinse the body wash you previously bought with DK off your body.

“You too,” he retorts while turning around so you can rinse the soap off his body for him.

He grabs your shampoo from your hanging wire basket and plops a dollop into his hand. He tells you to look up while he lathers it in his hand before he brings his hands to massage your scalp. His fingers feel amazing while he massages you, so you close your eyes in the process, hoping to keep the shampoo out of your eyes.

He thinks you look like one of those dogs from the pictures you find online where the owner sticks a metal head massager on their heads. Your eyes are closed in contentment, and there’s a lazy smile on his face that he only gets to see so often. He can’t help himself but sneak a little kiss on your lips while he piles your hair into a mountain so that you look like that one guy from the first Incredibles movie.

You open your eyes to look at him, but you see that he’s purposely looking away, pretending to be interested in something else. You try to follow his eyes, but your eyes land on something dark crawling down the wall above DK’s head.

Being you, you blatantly point out the descending spider, and DK screams, slips, and crashes onto the tiled floor. Your bath products tumble down after him. You sigh, knowing you’ll have to clean up the mess and drive him to school tomorrow instead of sending him off tonight.

.

“Aww you care for me,” Dokyeom coos while you fuss over the ice pack on his ankle.

“I’m just making sure my Sybian isn’t too damaged,” you scoff at him.

You thought you would spend the night with a cozy book in bed while you wait for your face mask to dry. However, you find yourself blow-drying DK’s hair, letting him borrow one of your old t-shirts, and nursing his badly bruised ankle. It’s a wonder how he somehow didn’t end up spraining it after that nasty fall. You could’ve sworn you heard the cartoon swishing sounds while he tried not to slip.

Not to mention, he somehow talked you into cuddling with him in bed through several lame excuses.

Q. What if I fell off the bed?

A. Fuck, then pick yourself up I guess.

Q. What if I sprained my dick?

A. We have toys.

He wouldn’t take no for an answer.

Although, you have to admit it feels very nice to sit in bed with him with his left arm around your waist while the two of you silently scroll through your phones. He leans his head on your shoulder and hugs you from the side. You tilt your phone towards him so he could watch you tap through your friends’ stories. You can tell he’s more needy than usual, probably from climaxing more than once in one night and then undergoing the shower incident following right after – he screamed while you crumpled the spider in a wad of tissue. He’s latching onto you like a parasite, but he does give you good dick so you think it’s more like a symbiotic relationship. The way he’s clinging to you makes you think it is what it feels like to be trapped under one of those large teddy bears you can buy at warehouse retail stores. 

He asks you if you’re going to the party on the weekend after you tap through the story of a mutual friend. You tell him you are.

“Be my date to the party?” he asks you.

You think he forgot you always go to parties with Jun and Chan.

“No thank you,” you politely decline his request, “I don’t do party dates.”

He pushes himself off of you, “Why not?”

“Because all of my past dates always left me for their friends and I would just spend every single party alone,” you grumble thinking about how many times you ended up taking care of drunk people you didn’t know because you ended up being sober the whole time.

“But I wouldn’t leave you.”

“There!” you exclaim while pointing your finger at him, “That’s what they all said to me.”

He frowns and crosses his arms, kind of upset you would think he would ever leave your side.

“Date or not I’m still not going to leave your side,” he grumbles while slinking down so he lays on the bed. He turns his body away from you to sulk.

The ice pack falls off his leg and tumbles to the ground. He continues to lay on the bed, not doing anything to pick it up so he can ice himself.

You know how stubborn he can be, especially when his pride is mixed in the equation. Part of you is proud he is sticking through being moody by refusing to move. However, you know how soft he is. If his future kid got a paper cut, he would probably end up crying harder than his kid. His kid would probably end up consoling him. His ankle must feel like pins and needles are sticking into it without the icepack, and he can’t do anything to distract the pain because his phone is out of his reach.

“Kyeom,” you gently shake his body. “You have to ice your ankle.”

He only shakes you off and brings his legs to his chest.

Usually, you would smack him with a pillow and call him dumb, but you think he’s suffered enough damages for the day. You know if you continue asking him to ice his ankle, he would just ignore you. So, you think either climbing on top of him or tricking him into breaking would be better choices. You choose the latter.

“Sigh,” you say out loud, pretending to talk to yourself. “If DK is sleeping then that means I’ll have nobody to cuddle with while I talk about my slutty costume choices.”

You see him slowly turn his head to look at you in the corner of your eye, but he quickly averts your gaze and turns his head back to its original position. You find yourself smiling at his action. He’s like a literal child. A puppy.

“Aww I thought Kyeom wanted to cuddle all night, but I guess I have to go to sleep because he’s asleep,” you tell him while leaning over him to check on him.

You see he’s pretending to sleep. He squints his eyes shut. His lips are poutier than usual, pressed in a thin line to probably stop himself from speaking.

“Maybe I’ll go sleep on the living room couch by myself so he can be more comfortable by himself,” you slowly move off the bed by trying to cross over his body.  

“Noo,” he wails while sitting up to grab you. He immediately yanks you back down, trapping you in his arms. “How slutty is it, Yn? HOW SLUTTY?”

.

You have your morning lab in a few hours, but you’re standing alone in your dark kitchen with your head stuck in the freezer. The only source of direct light comes from your freezer, and you’re glad you’ve lived in your place long enough to navigate in the dark. The green digital clock digits flash on your oven. It’s getting close to 4:00 am, but you can’t sleep.

The icepack, or more like a water pack at this point, left a giant wet spot on your carpet while it thawed. It now sits in a lumped form in the side door, wedged between a frozen loaf of bread and some microwavable pizza bagels. The coldness of the freezer feels nice on your skin, but it’s not enough to make you feel numb.

You feel hot and stuffy, and your mind has a million thoughts running around at once. You make him tell you why you should be his date to a stupid costume party, and he tells you he likes you. However, his dumbass knocks out immediately after while he’s still holding you tight in his arms. You’re left alone with your thoughts and a pounding heart while you wait for him to finally let go of you when he is asleep.

Truthfully, you want to tear your hair out. It’s not like you couldn’t wake him up to make him tell you whether or not he finished his sentence. However, you think you’ve already tested his patience enough in one day. You would trust his “I like you” more if he told you while he was drunk, but telling you and then immediately knocking out? You really don’t know if it could count as a confession.

So now you whisper scream into a frozen bag of mixed vegetables while you think about everything that happened this night. You think about him showing up at your door. You think about the hickies he leaves between your thighs. You think about the way he kisses you after you moan his name.

“Seokmin,” find yourself whispering his name.

You don’t understand how this name is so different from the others, but your fingers softly touch your lips as if you just whispered something you weren’t supposed to say. 

“Aww I get it. Jane Goodall. That’s so cute.”

“This is NOT a couple’s costume. I am clearly a hiker,” Chan angrily grumbles at the passerby while dumping another scoop of ice into the glass fishbowl on the kitchen island. He takes out his red handkerchief to wipe his hands and places it around his neck when he’s done.

“Why are you annoyed that people think you’re Jane Goodall? She’s one of the greatest scientists of our time. Do you not appreciate our women scientists? Women in STEM?” Jun asks him while he pops another sour gummy worm into his mouth. He licks the sour and sugary coating off his fingers one by one and wipes them dry on his monkey onesie.

You grab the bag of gummies from the table and dump the rest into the bowl. You tap and shake the edge of the bag until all of the remaining sugar falls into the bowl. Jun quickly plucks a worm out of the bowl before Chan turns around with a bottle of blue curacao in one hand and a bottle of coconut rum in the other hand. Chan insists on making fish bowls at parties for the three of you to share because he refuses to drink the jungle juice Jeonghan and Joshua make for parties. No matter how many times the two show Chan how they clean the giant clear plastic storage container they use for the juice, Chan absolutely refuses to drink from it. He argues that it’s a breeding ground for bacteria from people scooping the liquid with their cups, but Jeonghan dumbly replies that the amount of alcohol in the jungle juice should be enough to kill the germs.

By the time you’re done saying hello to some friends, Chan is already done making the bowl. He takes off his sunglasses and hangs it from his blue and grey colored top, looking at his creation with satisfaction. He swirls the bright blue concoction with three straws and tops it off with a paper umbrella toothpick he found in Jeonghan’s kitchen cabinets. Bon appétit.

The bright blue concoction stains your tongue, but it gives you a really nice buzz before you know how its aftereffects will hit you like a giant tsunami later. However, any precautious thought about getting too drunk and waking up with a massive hangover gets thrown out the window when Chan reminds you that the reason why the three of you took a ride-share cab is that you wantedto get fucked up. So the three of you smile and continue drinking.

.

The three of you are about two-thirds into finishing the fish bowl when you see DK and his friends stumble through the front door. DK’s dressed in the same slutty fireman costume he wears – the firefighter suit hanging low on his hips with the shoulder straps dangling, the hose on his shoulder, and the white tank top decorated with streaks of ash. You see Jeonghan greet him with a jello shot in his hand. The firefighter takes it from him and swirls his tongue around the perimeter of the jello, loosening it from the tiny container, and knocks it back swiftly in one go. He passes the container back to Jeonghan with no amount of blue raspberry flavored gelatin remaining on the inside. And all you can do is stare at him with your straw in your mouth while your friends attempt to play Jenga in their buzzed states.

It’s not long before you take your eyes off DK and realize that you finished the rest of the bowl by yourself. You tap in while Jun taps out of the game so he can happily scoop the slimy gummies out of the bowl and into his mouth. The tower looks jagged enough that one knee bumping against the table leg can easily knock the tower over. Shrek places their block on top of the tower with a shaky hand and sighs when the tower doesn’t topple over. A vampire bites their lip as they remove a side piece from the middle. You hold your breath as they slowly wiggle the piece loose, frowning when they successfully take it out of the stack and add it to the tower.

All eyes are on you as you hover your hand next to the piece that you want. You think if you take out that specific piece, you would make the tower a bit more balanced when it comes to how it leans. It also makes it harder for Chan to pull out a piece because he would end up shifting the balance if he pulled a block. Everything is in your favor – from the EDM song shuffling to a club song to your friends watching you silently – there is nothing that shouldn’t rule in your favor.

However, somebody behind you shrieks your name, and the tower topples. A few filled shot glasses are immediately placed in front of you, and everybody’s phone cameras are pointed at you, waiting to record you taking the shots. You sigh before bringing the first shot up to your mouth. You didn’t even get to touch the Jenga piece.

The perpetrator who stands behind you cheers the loudest every time you tip each empty shot glass over your head. He raises your hand in triumph and hugs you from behind your seat. The tsunami that’s been building up in the distance crashes. And by the end of it, you’re good as gone.

.

He tells you that no matter how comfortable his shoulder may feel at that moment, you do need to sit up and drink some water. And DK, for what seems like the nth time, hands you a bottle of water to drink.

He thanks the person who passed him the water bottle and stops for a minute. He points at him while scanning his outfit. “Hiker,” he finally decides on his answer.

“THANK YOU,” Chan yells at him while slapping him repeatedly on the back, unaware of his own strength, making DK flinch a little. Chan drunkenly decides that DK will become the fourth  person to drink from his fishbowl. He drags Jun, who is chatting up Trixie from the Fairly Odd Parents, with him to the kitchen to make a fresh batch.

DK is the type of person to make you forget, but not in a forgetful type of way. He makes you forget about your troubles. He makes you forget about the resident knocking on his door while the two of you hide in bed together. He makes you forget you’re at a house party in a room full of people. At that moment it’s just you leaning on his shoulder with his arm wrapped securely around you. None of you are hiding the fact that there’s something budding between the both of you. It feels nice, liberating even.

“Hi baby. You doing okay?” he asks you after making sure you drank until the waterline hit the top of the plastic label despite him being extremely drunk.

“I like it when you call me baby,” you mumble while falling back onto his shoulder, feeling yourself slowly sober up.

“Yeah?”

“But don’t tell anybody or else I’ll have your head,” you turn your head and glare at him.

“I’m not sure if that was a sexual reference or maybe you’ve been reading too many isekai mangas that Jun sends you,” he chuckles while laying your head on his shoulder. He almost sighs in relief when you don’t blame him for you losing Jenga earlier.

He gives an okay signal to any passerby who asks if you’re doing alright. 

“You weren’t by my side the whole time I was here. You’re a liar. Slutty liar.”

“I’m horrible aren’t I?” he kisses the top of your head.

“The worst.”

You never knew what “a beat” indicates in screenplays. You didn’t get why the screenwriter would want to indicate a pause. Nothing that you experienced in your life ever indicated a pause in the conversation. But now you understand. There are so many things you want to say, things you’re too afraid to say. You have questions for him, but you’re also happy he’s on your side. Maybe a “beat” is a filler. This pause in the conversation, you staring at him – eyes trying not to waver to his lips – it’s a mutual understanding between the two of you, something that makes up for what words cannot say. 

“I need to pee.”

.

Now is definitely not a good time to be confused about whether you need to pee or if you’re simply horny.

Tonight the two of you are sloppy, bodies pressed against each other in the quiet hallway of a house party. Someone occupies the hallway bathroom, and you’re leaning with your back against the wall. DK stands in front of you with his left forearm leaning against the wall in the space next to your right ear. He kisses along your jawline, nipping the base of your neck. The softness of his lips caresses your skin, blending into the waves while you slur your moans. He hushes you by covering his lips over yours. You prefer him closer to you so you reach behind his head to pull him into you. His mouth opens, and your tongue glosses over his. He meets you in the middle, circling his around yours and groaning when you tug on his lower lip with your teeth. Your hand roams across his chest, and he pushes into your thigh, grinding against you. Both of you are too drunk, too lost in each other to care if others are looking.

He pulls his head back and looks at you with a hooded gaze. He can’t believe the sight in front of him and the ache he feels inside of him. He leans his head against the side of your ear, nipping softly at your lobe before talking to you in a low voice, “I want to pin you against the wall with your legs wrapped around my waist while I whisper every single thought I’m having about you into your ear. I’m going to fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk out of this party without me supporting you. Everybody passing by will see how well you take me while you beg for me to pound into you deeper and harder. Then, you’d have to say goodbye to all of your friends while trying to keep my cum from leaking out of your sore pussy. I want to be able to open your legs and see it seeping out of you while I fuck it into you again in the car.”

Another beat.

This time it’s different. You feel your knees buckle underneath his body, sliding slightly down the wall. You look at his face hovering over yours, practically begging him to kiss you again. Anything. But he doesn’t. The two of you stay silent while you hear cheers from the living room. Then he proceeds to pull away as if nothing happened between you. He has the dopiest grin on his face. He cheeses at you – tiny wrinkles at the edge of his eyes and his pearly whites in full view. You’re still struggling to process the stream of consciousness he spoke into your ear.

“I like your pizza costume,” he giggles while poking your costume, especially the edges of the crust that hang off your shoulders.

“I bought it because I thought it might humor you,” you mumble while he takes your hands in his.

You see how much he’s gushing with happiness. You think he’s so cute, happy that your costume has such a positive effect on him. But you’re slightly annoyed that he’s able to move onto a different subject so quickly while you’re still stuck on the last one. You want more.

However, he tells you he really likes you and leans in to peck your cheek. When he pulls back, the bathroom door opens, and out steps Lee Jihoon who immediately grabs DK by his left ear and drags him away from you. “No fucking in the hallway,” he reprimands his friend.

DK only smiles at you while he’s being pulled away by his ear, too drunk to care, two finger hearts pointed directly at you.

You can only stand next to the vacant bathroom, now soberer than ever and seriously turned on.

You wake up on the floor next to your bed and slowly push yourself off the carpet, feeling the soreness in your body. You look at the carpet indents in your arm and then your surroundings. You notice your bed is empty, and Chan is asleep in his extra set of clothes, sprawled on the floor near your bedroom door. You can’t remember what happened in the latter half of the night, but you can at least deduce that all of you were at least sober enough to change out of your costumes and get ready for bed.

Your body is sore from sleeping on your floor, and you still feel pretty groggy. Still, the sweet scent of something coming from the kitchen is enough to convince you to walk outside instead of moving onto your bed to sleep some more. You stand up, knees cracking loudly, and you cross over Chan to exit your bedroom. You think it’s Jun who’s cooking, but you see him in his monkey onesie, passed out next to your rack of shoes near your entrance with a spare blanket covering him.

At least he has a blanket, you think to yourself. You woke up cold and with nothing covering you.

You see him standing in front of your toaster, wearing the extra set of clothes he keeps at your place. You see him place waffles into your toaster, minding his business while he hums to himself.

“Why are you here?” you approach him and stand by his side. You can see used wine glasses in the sink and opened chip bags you don’t remember buying sitting on the counter. The four of you probably continued drinking after arriving at your apartment. You hope there’s nobody else sleeping in your place.

“I dunno,” DK shrugs and proceeds to greet you by pulling you into his arms while he stands behind you, keeping a close eye on the frozen waffles.

You don’t get how he can look like he didn’t spend all of last night drinking. He looks completely refreshed with the kind of glow, an aura, you have after a good workout…not that you ever experienced what it must be like. He just looks like one of those smiling actors in fitness commercials.

You can feel his chest rumble against your back as he tells you he’s sorry he couldn’t cook something better for the four of you because he’s been living in the dorms for years. He honestly hasn’t touched a stove since he went home last summer. However, he did perfect cooking frozen food in microwaves and toasters. It’s the least he can do. He also quickly adds that he’s sorry he’s cooking all of your frozen waffles and would gladly reimburse you. You tell him to fuck off. There’s no way you would ever make him pay you back for making breakfast. He should know that by now.

The toaster pops, scaring you a little. A long yawn follows, and DK chuckles at you rubbing your eyes. He removes the waffles from the toaster and tells you to close your eyes. You dumbly follow, believing he’s going to kiss you when he cups your face in his hands. Instead, he rubs the inner corner of your eyes with his thumbs. “Eye boogers,” he says.

“Gross,” you watch him flick them to the ground.

“You thought that I was going to kiss you, huh,” he teases you while adding more frozen waffles into the toaster.

You grumble at him and stand to the side, leaning against your fridge. Your arms are crossed, and you watch him go back to humming the song he was humming before. It’s the same song playing from the speakers when the three of you decide to bring DK back to your apartment as there was no way he would have been allowed on campus in his state. It was partly Chan’s fault for getting him so fucked up – he couldn’t find regular vodka for the bowl so he replaced it with some Everclear he found tucked away under the sink. Jun tells him he really needs to stop snooping in Jeonghan’s cabinets. That’s when your memory starts to clear.

“Do you happen to remember what you told me before Jihoon dragged you away?” you curiously ask him.

You expect him to deny the memory or laugh at your sudden boldness, but he tells you that he knows better than to drink to the point where he blacks out and loses his memory. He would also like to stay true to his word, all of it.

“If you’re going to fuck in the kitchen, at least give us the waffles first,” Jun groans from the hallway.

DK winks at you in response, but you don’t know if he was referring to his second confession or if he promised the reality of his sexual fantasy. Before you can clarify, Jun appears in the kitchen, opening the dishwasher to grab a ceramic plate.

It shouldn’t be this confusing. DK told you that he liked you twice. You’re also pretty sure you like him. Nevertheless, it’s DK. He tends to joke around and switch from topic to topic. He throws words of affirmation at everybody he talks with. He confuses you even when you feel like you shouldn't be confused. 

“God Yn. You can’t be doing this to me.”

He sits upright, and his hands are positioned to his sides, tightly gripping his bedsheets.

You use his thighs as your support as you ride him, slowly bouncing up and down so he can watch his cock appear and disappear into your cunt.

You feel him twitching in you as you let soft moans float out of your mouth as you arch your back more and lean your head back toward the ceiling. You make sure you gyrate your hips switching between circular and back and forth motions as you continue to fuck yourself on his cock. He wonders how your soft mewls would break into staccato moans if you were to continuously bounce on him, letting lust cloud his thoughts.

Then you lean further backward, practically grinding on him. He feels your ass rub against his balls, and he does everything he can to restrain himself from rutting himself upwards into your cunt. He knows your thighs are tired as your breathing gets heavier and the way you grind against him gets messier. You sit on him, your whole body trembling and twitching from pleasure simply from the feeling of him fitting so snugly inside you. He feels so warm today, so good, stretching you nicely as you tell him all he needs to do is to sit there and look pretty. You reward him by sitting upright, guiding his hands from behind his back so they rest on your ass. He kneads them roughly, feeling your skin fill the spaces between his fingers.

Your ass cheeks feel sore, and you can’t stop panting when grind on him, rocking him so crudely that his bed begins to squeak. You bring a hand in front of you to start rubbing your nub, and high-pitched whimpers instantaneously escape your mouth. Your soft circular motions increase speed, attacking your soft flesh and making you forget he’s in you.

“Hng Seok,” your face is scrunched in pleasure, “Fucking myself feels so good.” You smirk at him as you ride out your high, knowing very well it would piss him off. You can tell he’s already a little upset you’re fucking him in cowgirl when he doesn’t get to do anything but sit there. 

Annoyed, he brings his right hand upwards and brings it down quickly against your ass. The crisp slap rings throughout his empty room, and he feels you clench around him as you gasp out loud. He slaps your ass again, finding deep pleasure in watching you pulse and quake around him and hearing you moan. 

You lift yourself slightly upwards, having regained some energy, and reach under you to grab the base of his shaft. You watch his face contort from annoyance to surprise to pleasure as you stroke him, squeezing and releasing incrementally as you simultaneously fuck his upper half. 

You can tell he is about to cum when he starts reaching for your face. He wants to make out with you, to dig his fingers into your back as you suck his neck. He moans your name, cavernous and gutturally, and tells you you’re doing so well. His sweet, sweet baby. The way you’re fucking him makes him go feral. 

Just then, there is a knock on his door, and he immediately pushes you off of him, practically hopping off his bed so he can run to his door barefooted and naked. He tells them to wait a minute as he’s wrapping something up. 

You sigh, quickly following behind him so you can hide in his closet, already used to having his residents show up out of the blue. You hand him his sweater and a pair of shorts before climbing into his closet and closing the doors behind you. 

You hear him open his door a minute later. You’re not sure what the topic of their conversation is as everything sounds muffled. You hear DK tell them that he has to grab a few things first, and then he’ll meet them in their room. He closes his front door and opens his closet. 

He looks worried. You observe it must be something important or an emergency as he doesn’t bother to make himself look presentable or deodorize the smell of sex lingering on his skin. He tells you he’s sorry and that he’ll try to be quick. He kisses you on the forehead before leaving with his stuff. However, he tells you you’re welcome to leave. And you sit there in his closet, alone and naked, the spot on your forehead burning. The motion-sensor lights in his bedroom turn themselves off, and you know you’re fucked by the way he gave you a choice to leave instead of telling you, begging you, finding stupid ways to get you to stay like he always does. 

Your feelings are hurt, and you’re pathetically close to tears. Why is it that every time you look at him or talk to him, it feels like you have to stop yourself from having your confession burst out of your mouth? “I like you” always feels like it’s sitting on the tip of your tongue, and you’re too scared to confess to him. 

It’s dark inside the closet, but you’ve been in his room enough times to know what’s hanging above you and sitting beside you. His business shirts are hanging above your head. On the other side of the closet, he has his pants. They’re organized by fabric type and colors. The jeans hang on the far right side of the closet. The sweats and athletic tights are next. Then he has his business pants. Dark colors are on the right, and light colors are on the left. His clothing hanger hooks are always hung over the closet rod, never under. Yet, at this moment, everything feels so foreign, like you’re a new person in a new place. But it’s because you are a different person now – a person who has fallen for their friends with benefits. 

The metal front door whirs and clicks open. You can hear the automatic lights flicker. He tells you he’s alone and that you can come out as he sees your stuff in his room. You’re not replying. 

“Shit Yn,” he opens his closet to find you still sitting in the dark closet, staring into nothing. “Aren’t you cold?”

You shake your head.

“Did you go pee? You should go pee,” he says expressionlessly. There’s not an ounce of care present in his suggestion.  

He leaves your side and stalks over to his bed, throwing himself on it. He loudly groans into a pillow to rid some of his stress. You can only climb out of the closet, your jaw clenched. “I like you! I like you a lot” is still in your mouth, taunting you, threatening to escape. 

“Is he done yet?”

“Bro he literally just started. Have a little more faith in Chan, okay?” you mumble at Jun while looking at your phone. You lock the screen and place your phone face down on the table.

Today is a day for firsts. It is the first time Jun and you are trying the café across the nice-looking residential building near campus. It’s the first time you try an iced mint mojito coffee when you usually have its alcoholic counterpart. It’s the first time Jun had a professor cancel class this semester. It’s also the first time Chan hooks up with somebody he met on the dating app Jun set up for him. It’s also the first time you’ll openly admit that Jun somehow has the most “game” compared to the three of you. Strange universe.

Jun knows something is bothering you. Your comebacks have become snarkier, yet you’ve been more lenient with whatever he does around you. He once told you to pay for the three of your dinners, and you passed him your credit card without saying anything. And it’s not like DK hasn’t been becoming less of the topic of your conversations - you’ve been quieter. And he doesn’t know what’s going on because he’s scared you might punch him. So he doesn’t ask you and only looks around the café’s nice interior, choosing to count the number of glossy white honeycomb tiles on the wall.

“How can you walk up to somebody and ask them out even though you don’t know them?” you blurt loudly at him out of the blue.

“Me?” Jun dumbly asks you. He already forgot the tile number he was on.

You nod your head while you bring your drink up to your lips.

He leans back into his chair and crosses his arms.

“You know how blunt I am.”

You nod your head, recounting all of the times he was called out for his bluntness.

“I think you already know how I can sometimes rub people off in the wrong way because I accidentally say things that I don’t mean. Sometimes people like you understand me and sometimes people don’t. I guess it’s like people liking you? Sometimes people will like my bluntness and sometimes it comes off in the wrong way. So I think it’s the same for liking people? You either like somebody or you don’t? So I’ll ask anybody out as long as I’m interested in them because the answer is always a simple yes or no.”

You’re so confused.

“You literally jumped from one topic to another. I literally could not follow you at all,” you blink.

“Well I’m sorry,” he throws his hands up in defeat. He’s not used to giving helpful advice nor is he used to having people go to him for advice. He wonders if he should start counting the number of chairs in the café.

He remembers an interaction he had in front of your apartment building last week. He was surprised that DK would call him and ask if he could meet him in front of your apartment. Jun told him that Yn is home and that he could just knock on your door, but DK unequivocally rejected his idea and told Jun to come. Jun saw him walking back in forth in front of your apartment building sign with a bunch of ugly roses in his hand, obviously stressed out of his mind. He asked him what was wrong.

“I dunno. I think they’ve been avoiding me for some reason,” DK tells Jun once he feels calmer with the older boy around him. 

“But they’re literally wilting, bro,” Jun tells DK with clear judgment in his voice. “Some of the petals are black. I’d avoid you if you gave me wilting roses,” he points at all the petals with darkened tips and wrinkles.

“Yn will like them,” DK insists. “They think they look cool like that.”

Jun brought them to your apartment for DK, not wanting to ask or press him for more information. Although, he would have to admit it was a bit confusing to have DK ask him to deliver the flowers for him. Albeit, you are pretty scary when you’re mad. You were pretty enthusiastic when you saw the flowers in his hand, but you immediately slammed the door on him when he told you they were from DK. However, you did open your door again to let him use your restroom.

“Do you like DK but you’re having trouble figuring out whether or not he likes you?” Jun cautiously approaches you with his question.

You nod and spill your troubles to your best friend. You tell him about the two times he told you he liked you and about the day you hid in his closet. You tell him about the roses – how he didn’t text you or leave you a card so that you don’t know why he bought the roses and why he couldn’t deliver them himself. You tell him about the “not a date” dates and how he calls you pet names.

Jun tells you it sounds confusing, but it’s actually pretty normal to fall for your friend with benefits especially if you have a strong emotional connection. That’s how normal people fall in love. He feels for you and understands how confusing it must be for you when the two of you have basically skipped the dating part and landed in the married for thirty years part of the relationship without being in a relationship.

“But isn’t it tiring have to hide?” he asks you. “How many times did you have to hide because of a resident? How many times did you have to fake not knowing him or not liking him whenever you saw somebody flirting with him?”

“Too many times,” you admit. It’s exhausting.

Jun only nods and grabs his set of keys from the café table. He pulls out his wallet from his back pocket, “Lemme buy you dessert while I pay for Chan’s ‘congrats on your first hook-up’ cake.”

You stare at your friend, “You aren’t going to give me helpful advice?” You’re dumbfounded.

“Who do I look like to you? Yahoo answers? Reddit? If you want helpful advice, suck it up and tell him that you need to talk to him and talk. It’s going to eat you alive before your future cats get to eat you.”

Fuck. Jun’s right.

Today is a weird day for firsts.

“But I literally just nutted,” DK tells you while you storm into his dorm.

He’s shirtless and is wearing those grey sweatpants that ride dangerously low on his hips. He looks like he just woke up from a nap, his hair messy and matted. A bottle of unscented lotion sits on his nightstand.

“Did you want to shower or do laundry with me later?” he asks you, letting his door shut behind him. He follows you to his bed. “Did you want to get dinner with me? We have a while until Chan’s night class ends. I know you usually wait for him so you can walk home with him.”

You sit on the edge of his bed and pat the space next to you, telling him to sit next to you. He sits next to you and looks at you with a worried expression.

“I’m going to be honest, I don’t think I have it in me to fuck right now unless you find a way to help me get it up,” he confesses while scratching the back of his ear. He’ll say anything to fill the awkward silence, but he’s glad to see you after being out of touch for a week.

He sees you frowning, and his breath hitches when you turn to him.

“You confuse me DK,” your voice wavers. “I like you so much, but you keep on sending me mixed signals by telling me you like me and then acting like nothing happened. And then you’re so kind to me, and you call me those names while constantly treating me like I’m in a relationship with you when I’m not.”

“Oh, Yn,” his lip quivers.

“You don’t understand how much I like you, how much I want to stop being friends with benefits with you. But you confuse me so much. Your kindness is confusing and I wish you were meaner so I wouldn’t have fallen for you…why are you crying?” you slap his bicep.

He flinches in pain from the slap because he’s still shirtless, but the tears keep running down his face.

“I’m sorry,” he cries while clutching his arm. “I thought I was being straightforward with my feelings, but I hurt you instead,” he wails, “I’ve started liking you longer than you could imagine.”

You don’t know how to react to him crying while confessing, so you awkwardly get up and walk over to his mini fridge to bring him one of his frozen sponge packs to ice his arm.

.

You kiss him back before closing his large metal dormitory door behind you. His keypad whirs and clicks its automatic lock into place, and you make your way to the hallway elevators, giddy on the inside.

You make your way past all the bright green dormitory doors and stop in front of the elevators. At the side of the elevator is the large classroom bulletin board with DK’s stupid laminated face smiling at you. This time the board is sky blue. You can recognize the clouds glued onto the board anywhere – they’re sheep repurposed into clouds from when he did the board about sleep facts. Hot air balloons decorate the board. Expensive cardstock letters spell the title: Love is in the air, and so are STDs! You snicker at the tiny rips in the blue background from students ripping off the taped condoms to use for themselves before stepping into the elevator.

Your phone in your pocket buzzes when you step out of the elevator and exit the dormitory. You pull out your phone while standing outside. It’s a text from DK. He says he’s been waiting for a while now, but he wants to be a bit selfish tonight. He asks you if you’re free this Friday night even though he knows your schedule like the back of his hand. He sends another text to let you know he’s horny again, but he missed you. A lot. 

Stepping to the side to let other residents in and out of the dorm, you make your way along the front of the dormitory so you stop under his window. You see him looking out to check if you made it out of the building. You wave at him and hold your phone up for him to see while giving him a thumbs up. He triumphs when he realizes you're agreeing to go on a real date with him, and you laugh when you see his figure disappear when he trips while jumping. He comes back to his window with a shirt on this time. He waves goodbye to you, and you wave back with a large smile on your face. This time the smile doesn’t drop. 

[stuffeddeer]

rock band member dazai where he’s often in the media for drama between him and his previous ex band partner and you happen to run into him (anonymously!) on a chatting app. eventually his “personal conflicts “ he tells you about him and a ex friend start to align a lot with a certain famous singer’s tabloid scandals, so you bite the bullet and ask if it’s him or if he is just going through the same exact specific events dazai is. he ends up revealing his identity and you end up getting backstage tickets to his shows and he ends up just as obsessed with you as you are (chuuya is pissed that somehow that shitty dazai got a partner before him)

its u.

Dazai’s heart rate picked up at the two grammatically incorrect words that popped up in his notifications. You’d been so close to figuring it out for weeks; Was today finally the day?

wdym

Right: play dumb. There’s no guarantee you figured out who he is, so he just needs to stay calm.

Sure, week after week he’d tell you stories from his life that popped up in magazines and circulated around online the next day or so, always causing you to come back and flaunt it in his face that your favorite guitarist had done it “bigger and better” (even though the stories were the exact same). You frequently pointed out similarities in them (being him and… himself) to the point where he almost saved and told you several times, but something always held him back. Maybe he should just finally rip the bandage off.

A photo message came in. It was a screenshot - a screenshot of a picture Dazai had sent you. In the background had a bright red circle around something small. He zoomed in, eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. Couldn’t you just type it out? What a hassle - oh.

Yeah, he should’ve listened when his manager told him to pick it up and display it properly.

The image was a bird’s eye view of his hand, flashing his fresh coat of nail polish and his rather messy wooden floors (and his cute orange halloween socks). Nothing too damning upon first glance. Sure, you’d mentioned that your favorite band’s guitarist had painted his nails the same color, but that was mere coincidence, right?

No. Because this lazy moron couldn’t put things away, in the top left corner of the photo - the area circled in red - showed an opened package with the platinum record his band was gifted for their most popular song. Why would he have that if not a member of the band himself?

He looked up from his phone blankly, staring at the package still nestled on the side of his room. The only difference from the photo is that it had been pushed slightly to the side since then, stopping him from tripping over it. What a stupid mistake; Dazai had always been much more careful than this (except when he wasn't).

dude

u let me gush to u ab URSELF????

im embarrassed

Dazai smiled. Well, at least things weren’t awkward.

It had been a few months and you and Dazai were happy to talk in person now that he didn’t have to hide his face. You’d been backstage at many of his shows, meeting his bandmates and spending time in person. It had honestly been so much fun, but sometimes Dazai missed the cat and mouse game he’d been playing when you were unsure of his identity - back when you texted him rumors and articles about his own life, saying how crazy it was that your favorite artist went through the same things as him.

He’d woken up earlier than he wanted to due to the myriad of calls blowing up his phone. “What..” He grumbled, not even bothering to check caller ID. “Who is this?”

“You asshole! You got a fucking partner before I did? And they’re hot, too! No way they settled for you,” Chuuya continued to grumble while Dazai put him on speaker phone, tuning him out. Whatever he was yapping about didn’t matter once he noticed a notification from you.

do u know this guy? he seems to be goin thru the same things u r…

A link is included, leading Dazai to an article with a picture of him and you. The first thing he notices is how smitten he looks with you, causing him to blush very faintly as he smiles to himself. Is that really what he looks like around you?

Rockstar Dazai Osamu Finds New Fling - Or Maybe More?

More, definitely more.

“Are you listening, asshole?” Chuuya shouted from his speaker. “How’d ya get a partner before me?”

Dazai smiled, saving the paparazzi shot onto his phone. “My height, definitely.”