#non-sexual half nudity

[lunarharp]

wip thing...

of my bg3 avatar hellebore. i also did some casual nude studies of my 3 characters which i'll put under a cut... rather unlike me after all. (so WARNING for abrupt non-sexual full Artistic nudity lol...,,,,) (< won't be making a habit of this)

they mean the world to me

[sunset-aria]

Sketch Art Stream, July 27th and 28th: Commission Roundup

Another successful sketch stream from last week~ This time, I chose a few opportunities to help draw new character designs alongside some wonderful pre-established characters (Especially the bobcat and the half-Keaton character), which is always great fun! And also rather challenging with the self-imposed time limit I always put on these slots. 

Slots this time included (top to bottom, left to right):

Taki's skunk fursona in a demiskunk form

Mr.Nibs's bobcat artifacer artillerist, Sidra Ravel

Howlitzer's kintsugi jackal lady, Aurum

Yumii's rat fursona in a swimsuit set similar to her partner's

SiGe's fursona in an RPG-inspired halfcat/demicat form

Cameron with a half-Keaton researcher determined to make a hyper-detailed Hyrule Compendium by hand

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ LUCKY — GOJO SATORU.

contents. baths + non sexual nudity, established relationships, tired toru :(, lots of kissies and praise for the babie :(, solid proof in the form of writing of how embarrassingly lovesick i am for this FOOL

it’s past midnight when satoru walks into your bathroom. he doesn’t even question why you’re in the bath so late—just gives you a lopsided grin tiredly as you smile.

“you’re home,” you brighten.

“look at you,” he coos, staring down at you with amused eyes, “waitin’ for me?”

satoru is tired—you can tell from the way the his shoulders are slouched and his blindfold is clutched in his hand. “i was,” you hum in agreement, “c’mere.”

it’s all it takes. he’s stripped down and waiting for you to move up so he can slide behind you in seconds, hand waving to motion you forward. but you’re stubborn—you shake your head as you hold an arm out for him.

“baby,” he whines, “c’mon i was out fighting big bad curses all day. jus’ lemme hold—”

“no. just come here, toru,” you insist.

there’s something about it—something about the way your voice is so gentle, so insistent, so knowing. it’s like you can read him more than he can, sometimes. satoru is tired, you can see it, you can feel it. you can’t carry his burdens, but you can hold him while he holds the weight of the world for a night.

maybe it’ll do for now—maybe it’ll even be enough and more.

“what? feelin’ like pampering me today?” he teases, “aren’t i a lucky guy,” he hums—but he climbs into the tub anyway, settling between your legs, leaning his back against your chest as his head falls back against your shoulder.

instantly, two gentle kisses plant themselves against his head, and his eyes flutter shut. he’s starting to feel the beginnings of a headache form—the gentle thump in his skull just barely there, but persistently present.

your thumbs rubs along the sides of his head, enough pressure to soothe the pain like you know it’s coming—he thinks you must.

“you are a lucky guy,” you giggle, “look at me. such a catch.”

he grins, chuckling that boyish chuckle of his freely in your arms as he relaxes. it’s been a while since he’s relaxed, you think—it’s half past midnight and he’ll be up with the sun in a bit to head back to the school, but it’s nice to know he’s relaxed. even just for this short, rare moment.

“oh yeah,” he nods, lips curled into a grin as he cracks an eye open and peers up at you, “s no catch like my pretty ‘lil baby. i’m living it up.”

“glad you know your privileges,” you murmur contently, shaking your head in amusement as you wrap your arms around his body. one hand rubs over his abs—he wants to tease you about feeling him up, wants to make a sly comment about missing his body more than him while he was gone. but there’s something about it, about the way it’s so slow and soothing and soft—it’s so painfully soft, satoru swallows.

finally, he lets his body go slack against yours, sliding down so his head rests against your chest and the water soaks more of his body. it’s warm. the water and your arms. it’s all so, so warm and forgiving.

“aren’t you gonna tell me how lucky you are too? i’ll listen, don’t worry. no interruptions.”

“yeah?” you chuckle, threading fingers through his hair and pulling a soft sigh from him, “wanna know how lucky i am?”

“course,” he murmurs, “well, i already know you’re lucky. it’s me after all—but i’m not opposed to hearing it.”

“how humble of you, satoru,” you snort.

he grins wider—he hasn’t had a chance to smile all day. not properly, at least.

“feel free to start any second,” he says with a wink. then his eyes flutter shut again as your thumb traces his cheek, ever so gently running along the soft angles of his face.

it’s pretty—everything about him is pretty. there are no ugly parts to satoru. just the parts painted from cruel hands. they’re beautiful too, you like to think, in their own, fragile little ways.

“okay,” you whisper, pressing a soft kiss to his head, “i’m very lucky,” you murmur into his hair.

he hums, mumbling a quiet, “knew it.”

“lucky i have such a handsome face to greet,” you pepper kisses along his forehead and find his cheek, giving it an affectionate little bite that makes him huff out an amused chuckle. “and he’s so tall too,” you add, resting your chin on his shoulder.

“that all he is?” he pouts, “just a pretty face? you’re breaking my heart, baby.”

“no,” you say quietly, grabbing his hand and brushing a thumb over his knuckles, “he’s also kind. too kind, sometimes,” you say quietly, “he comes home a bit later than usual every once in a while because he took his students out to eat. he loves them a bit too much, i think.”

“no such thing as too much love,” he hums, squeezing your hand.

you smile, admiring him as he lays against you, small in your hold even with the larger than life weight he carries.

“and he’s strong,” you add, “really strong. it’s not fair sometimes,” you whisper, “he’s got so much on his plate.”

“he handles it fine,” he assures, “he always does.”

“and then he still makes time for little old me,” you say fondly, kissing his shoulder, “never lets me feel lonely. he’s too good to me.”

“there’s no such thing as too good for you,” he gasps offendedly, pouting like you’ve insulted him, “he’s definitely not—”

“and sometimes, he comes home tired. and he tries to act like he’s not because he’s a bit of a prick who doesn’t let me help, but i’m smart and i know him well so i’ve figured it out. and if i’m extra lucky, i might get to hold him for a bit like this and help him relax.”

you squeeze him gently for emphasis, holding him closer as you press your nose into his neck and breathe in his smell. it’s like cologne that’s rudely expensive and that sweet smell only satoru has—it’s all you want to breathe in for the rest of your days.

you hope he’ll allow you that much. something tells you he will.

satoru swallows thickly at that, rubs a thumb over your bare thigh as he rests his free hand over it, the other still in your grasp.

and then, quietly, “maybe he’s fine just coming home to you,” he shrugs, “who can stay tired with such a sweet face waiting at home?”

“i don’t know,” you say thoughtfully, “he’s got a lot to take care of. wonder how he does it.”

“he’s probably the strongest,” he shoots with an easy grin, “sounds like the strongest to me.”

“he is,” you nod, “he’s a lot more than that too. i’m lucky he’s mine.”

“oh yeah?” he drawls—there’s something a little shaky about his voice though.

you choose not to mention it, pressing soft, delicate kisses along his jaw as you murmur, “yeah. he makes me feel really, really lucky. love him so much.”

“love you too,” satoru breathes, “guess we’re both really, really lucky.”

don’t talk to me i don’t want to be perceived. that’s enough softness for a lifetime so the next time i write him he’s getting hit by a bus

[ellecdc]

babe I recently discovered ur account and now I'm obsessed!!!!! I have devoured ur masterlist! Also I'm new to tumblr so I'm sorry if I'm doing or saying anything wrong pls correct me! I just wanna hype u up queen! Also ok fic request! It's not smut it's smut adjacent! I imagine this with Remus but u can totally change it if u want! Imagine reader whose boobs get super sore before her period and may be Remus is trying to initiate sex like they r making out and he goes to touch her boob and she winces and he's like did I just hurt u? And she's like no no it's fine and may be he believes her but he touches her again and she flinches and he's just like what is wrong don't lie and it's that her ex never cared if her boobs hurt or sex sad painful before her period and just Remus love (sorry it's so long def self indulgent bc my boobs r super sore and sex kinda hurts leading up my period and I just want someone to understand and not make me feel guilty about it)

aawweeee so glad you found me! and thanks for the prompt, lovie <3

Remus Lupin x fem!reader whose boobs are sore close to her period [1.4k words]

CW: things get sort of steamy/lead up to smut with no real smut, sexual & non-sexual nudity, mature themes, 18+

You couldn’t help the smile that took over your face when you heard Remus navigating the hall in a way you could tell he thought to be quiet before his head of messy, tawny brown curls appeared in the crack of your bedroom door.

“Hi dove.” He murmured softly as if still unsure if you were asleep or not; his eyes were warm and sweet as honey as he smiled widely and unbiddenly at you.

“Hi handsome.” You greeted in return as you put your book down and invited him in which he accepted eagerly.

“Fuck, I missed you.” He moaned as he crawled up into the bed and melted into you; arms weasingly around your middle as he shoved his face into the crook of your neck greedily. 

“Missed me?” You laughed as you threaded your fingers through his hair. “You were hardly gone three hours.”

“S’too long.” He mumbled, earning him a giggle as you tried to pull away at the tickle of his breath against your neck.

He groaned somewhat hungrily as he pulled you in tighter, beginning to trace kisses up the column of your throat.

You tightened your grip of his hair which only seemed to spur him on as he shifted so he was hovering over half of you. 

“Didn’t you miss me?” He asked under his breath before bringing his lips to yours for an agonisingly long and slow kiss. “Hm?” He continued as if he hadn’t just impeded your ability to answer him. 

“I always miss you, Rem.” You murmured back as he began marking kisses along your jaw and trailing towards your chest. 

He made a sympathetic sound as he got to the top of the tank top you usually slept in, hooking his finger along the neckline and pulling it out of his way to expose your - quite swollen, actually - tits. 

“Neither of us should ever be allowed to leave.” He concurred, switching between wet, open mouthed kisses and sucking love bites into your exposed skin. 

“Don’t you think your friends would miss you?” You asked then, thoroughly enjoying the show as you continued to mess with his hair. 

“Tough.” He said simply before moving his hand to cup one of your breasts to lift it into his mouth, causing you to suck in a pained breath.

All movements stopped and Remus seemed to be holding his breath as his eyes flit up to yours. “You okay, sweetheart?” He asked cautiously.

You let out the breath you didn’t realise you’d been holding and nodded at him. “Yeah, sorry, I’m fine.” You agreed, trying to ignore how painfully sensitive your boobs were this close to your period as you encouraged his face back down to your chest.

With only a little hesitation, he continued his ministrations before moving over to your other to bestow upon it the same amount of care. 

You could feel him growing hard as he repositioned himself in your lap, and you tried to focus on that slightly warm feeling trying to grow between your legs (though not nearly as effectively as it had been the week prior) and his pleasure as you allowed him to take from you what he pleased.

But one more firm grasp of your tit had you wincing with a small whine and a flip was switched.

Remus was kneeling; his hands no longer on you which only made you wince in embarrassment rather than pain as he scrutinised you.

“What happened, dove? What’d I do?”

“Nothing, Rem, you didn’t do an-”

“Don’t fib.” He interrupted, his tone stern but his lip jutting out in a very dramatic pout. 

“I’m okay.” You murmured, though you did attempt to sit up and replace your boobs into the confinement of your tank top. Remus watched the action with rapt attention. 

“Did I hurt you?” He asked then, and his voice sounded so small that you actually wanted to cry.

“No! No, baby, I’m- ugh, I’m sorry, you didn’t hurt me, I’m just hurting.” You appeased, reaching out to stroke his arm in a manner you hoped to be soothing. 

He seemed to consider your form again as his shoulders sagged. “You’re sore.” He concluded. 

“Yeah, I… well, I get a little sore around this time of the month, you know?” You admitted, watching as Remus’ expression shifted from one of worry to one of abject horror.

“Dovey.” He chided as he stared at you wide eyed.

“It’s okay! I’m fine, we can keep going if you want, I-”

But you only seemed to horrify him even more as his head reared back in shock. “Keep going!? Baby, you are sore to the touch and you were just going to let me maul you?!”

You found yourself very much ill-prepared for this conversation as you shook your head in confusion. “Well, I just meant, if you wanted to we-”

But Remus was scoffing and waving you off before standing abruptly and moving towards the attached bathroom, scolding you along the way.

“Bollocks to what I want, dove. My desire doesn’t come before your comfort.” He explained before you heard water running and him muttering something in Welsh under his breath. 

You were having a hard time understanding whether you were in actual trouble or not before he came padding back out of the bathroom - still muttering to himself in Welsh - with a divot between his brows and a damp washcloth in his hands.

“Take this off, dove.” He directed; tone now soft and alerting you to the fact that there was no real heat behind his chiding.

You obediently shed your tank top and tossed aside as Remus guided you to lay back onto your pillows and placed the cold cloth on your chest.

“Poor girls.” He cooed as he situated himself beside you. “Was being s’mean to them, too.” 

“Rem-”

He simply shushed you and placed a quick kiss on your nose before dotting a gentle one on each of your tits. 

“They’re gonna hate me; they’re gonna think I’m a monster.” He lamented woefully before standing up to change into his pyjamas. 

“They don’t know a damn thing.” You laughed as you let out a breath, relishing in the ease of your banter with Remus.

You weren’t used to it; things being easy, that is. Relationships always felt like hard work before.

Your relationship with Remus still required work, mind you, but it wasn’t hard; it was comfortable and patient and flexible and understanding.

There was no forcing puzzle pieces to fit when their edges didn’t match, there was no walking on eggshells wondering what sort of mood he was going to be in, and there was no stewing on conversations as you tried and failed to fall asleep at night wondering what in the hell you’d manage to do wrong this time.

No, Remus was easy; he was easy to get along with, easy to live with, easy to love.

He was just so easy.

You hoped he thought the same of you.

“Dovey.” He murmured quietly, now apparently kneeling on the floor on your side of the bed as he rested his chin on his forearms. “You know that, right?” He continued when you opened your eyes to look at him.

“Know what?” 

His mouth pursed again in a small pout before he leaned forward to press a kiss to your shoulder. 

“That what I want should never come before what you need; that my desires are nowhere near as important as your comfort.”

His eyes moved to watch as you pulled your lower lip between your teeth. “Okay.” You whispered.

He let out a sad breath as his brows twitched in sympathy, but you were thankful he opted not to comment on it. 

“I love you.” He offered then, eyes moving back up to yours as he used one of his knuckles to rub at your upper arm affectionately.

“I love you too.” You answered readily. 

He seemed appeased by that and stood to press a more assured kiss to your lips. “Do you want me to run this under cold water again? Or would something else help?”

You pretended to think about it before looking back up at him through your lashes. “Think we could cuddle?”

Remus let out a chuckle as he pressed another kiss, this time to your forehead, and pulled the cloth off of your chest. 

“It’s like you read my mind, sweetheart.”

[bruisedboys]

reader and peeta showering together after a hard day (just some innocent intimacy nothing suggestive) 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻 love this man sm 😭🤞🏻🤞🏻

!!!!!! thank you for the req angel <3 this inspired me so so much! thanks for kickstarting my writing for peeta era hehe

peeta mellark x fem!reader 16+ please for non-sexual nudity. not really in universe but can read as post mockingjay if you want it to!

Peeta’s sketching on the bed when you come inside. One knee propped up with his back against the wall behind the bed, his sketchbook pressed against his thigh. His golden hair falls over his forehead, messy where he’s been too distracted by his drawing to push it back.

He looks up when you enter, smiling a bruising smile you don’t feel deserving of.

“Hey. Hey, sweetheart.” It’s alarming how quickly he sets aside his book and pencil to reach for you, as if he hadn’t been immersed in his sketching mere seconds ago. “C’mere, I missed you.”

As much as you’d like to be wrapped in his strong arms right now, you’re filthy, and he’s just changed the sheets earlier today.

“I can’t. I’m all dirty, see?” You wiggle your dirt-covered hands at him. You’ve been in the garden all afternoon. Time drifted away from you as you planted a new batch of tomato seeds. By the time you were done, the sun was setting and you hadn’t even realised. Your knees are stained dark brown and you’ve got dirt up to your elbows. “I’ll shower first, then we can cuddle. Sorry, baby.”

Peeta looks decidedly put out. You turn away from him before he can convince you any further, because you know if he looks at you like that for much longer you’ll give in. You pull fresh clothes from your side of the dresser and then move down the hallway to the bathroom.

The showers warming up and you’re starting to undress when Peeta knocks on the door. It’s unlocked, and he doesn’t have to, but he knocks anyway.

“It’s me,” he says. Who else would it be? You think. Silly man. “Can I come in?”

You pull the door open for him instead of answering. You’re halfway out of your clothes but it doesn’t phase him. Sure, he looks, but not for long, and not in a way that would suggest anything other than affection.

“Hey,” he says. He pushes the door closed behind him. The shower runs in the background, a peaceful thrum. “Do you mind if I join you? You can say no.”

You huff a soft laugh. He should know by now that saying no to him is a near impossible feat. “Yeah, of course. I don’t mind.”

You finish undressing quickly, eager to be clean and warm. Peeta leaves to get fresh towels while you hop in under the hot spray. The majority of the dirt on your skin has been rinsed by the time he gets back. You hear him moving around the bathroom for a minute or so before he pulls the shower curtain aside. You let him in, moving aside to make space for him. It’s tight, but it’s not uncomfortable. Weirdly, it’s almost a perfect fit for the two of you.

Peeta moves under the shower head and the water quickly drenches one half of his hair and one of his shoulders. His big hand slides over your hip and he carefully moves you into a position where you’ve both got equal spray.

“Hi,” he says, smiling. He’s so close you could count his freckles, each light brown spot scattered across his collarbones.

“Hello,” you say back. His thumb rubs your hipbone, up down, up down. “Is it too warm?”

“No, it’s perfect.”

You smile and touch your palm to his cheek. “You okay?” You’re not asking because he seems out of sorts. You’re asking because you want to know, and if he’s not he’ll tell you. He does the same for you. It’s just how you love each other.

Peeta nods. “Yeah, I’m okay. How did your gardening go?”

You beam. You love that he cares about what you care about. “Good. We’ll have tomatoes growing out of our ears by summer, I think.”

Peeta laughs. It’s a brilliant sound that bounces off the shower walls and warms your chest. “Awesome,” he grins. Then, “Hey, you’ve got dirt under your ear.” He reaches behind you to grab the flannel hanging on the shower caddy. “Look that way for me?”

He holds you still with a hand at your jaw and rubs the dirt from your skin so gently you barely feel it. His touch is like a magnet — you’re drawn to it over and over again, no matter how generously he gives it to you. When he asks if he can wash your hair, you’d be crazy if you said no.

“Yeah, please,” you tell him, past caring how desperate and needing of his touch and love you are. He knows, anyway.

Peeta turns you by the hips so your back is to him, then gently tilts your head backwards. You hand him your shampoo and he squeezes a dollop onto his hands, rubbing his palms together before spreading the bubbles over the top of your head. He’s very, very gentle with it, much more than you’ve ever been, massaging the soapy, sweet-smelling bubbles into your hair, fingers rubbing circles onto your scalp. His dedicated touch, along with the gentle thrum and warmth of the shower spray, is enough to almost put you to sleep.

“Okay, you can rise now,” Peeta speaks up. His tone is soft and you suspect he’s noticed your sleepiness. He gets very soft with you when you’re tired. “Shut your eyes, please.”

You do as he says and he directs you under the spray. He holds a hand over your forehead like a barrier so the bubbles can’t escape and sneak into your closed eyes. The action in itself makes your chest ache. He cares more than you could ever comprehend.

When he’s done rinsing you finish scrubbing the dirt from your knees, your elbows. Peeta washes his own hair, and you help him rinse the same way he did for you.

“Thank you, angel,” he says. Warm water and soapy bubbles stream over his shoulders, his neck. His eyelashes are wet, clinging to each other in sparkly triangles. He dips down and kisses your shoulder, then your cheek. “Love you.”

You beam. You love him more than anything. You get on your toes to kiss him properly, a warm press of your mouth on his, a promise for more of the same later, when you’re clean and dry and fed. “Love you too, Peeta.”

-

thank you for reading! please consider reblogging if u enjoyed 🤍

[dragonnarrative-writes]

Transferrable Skills Part 2

Transferrable Skills Masterlist

You don’t often use your MyFet beyond finding a group or conference to attend. You periodically clear out your messages, just in case an acquaintance wants to reach out. So you almost delete the message from the anonymous profile on autopilot, but the subject line intrigues you.

Interested in Distance Play, No Punishments - 14 Hrs Ago

Intrigued, you open it because… at least they read a little bit of your profile.

I noticed your profile because of your self-rope pictures. The rest of your profile is very interesting to me - specifically your engagement in solo play and dislike of punishment. I liked the post you made about obedience as an ongoing active choice.

I’m a man in my 30s with a classified job. I travel a lot, and I’m looking for someone to have a strictly long-distance arrangement with. I’m interested in: non-restrictive rope, obedience, behavior modification, praise. I’m sure there’s more, but I’ve written this message six times. Please let me know if you’re interested in discussing.

Well, that’s refreshingly straightforward and devoid of unsolicited smut. You read the message again, then click into his profile. G_987654321_ It’s… pretty bare. But if he’s got a classified job, that makes sense, right? Location: Antarctica. His age is listed as 33, and he’s listed himself as dominant and seeking acquaintances and play partners. Not interested in hookups, interested in casual nudity, obedience, praise. Hard limits of degradation and humiliation.

It’s not much more information than the message itself, but it’s more than some of the men who have asked if you want to meet up in private. You review his original message and bite your knuckle. Worst case scenario, he’s some troll who will call you a range of slurs and waste your time, and then you’ll block him. Best case scenario… he means what he says.

What are you looking for? Who, What, When, Where, and Why?

You send the message and log out of the app before you can chicken out. Your inner voice is grumbling (stupid stupid stupid), but that’s normal. You let yourself watch two and a half episodes of your latest show, and then make a hearty dinner.

You’re surprised when you pick your phone back up. One new message.

The whole time you’re cursing the app for glitching and logging you out and forgetting your password, you’re sure it’s not him. Most likely, it’s an event announcement from a friend or a bot. But you like going to events, so it’s worth it.

It’s a message. It’s from him.

Who: You and Me What: Praise-based, goal-oriented obedience play When: Twice weekly when we’re both available, but I won’t always be available. Sometimes weekly, sometimes a greater time between meet ups. Where: Virtual meetings. Video preferred, audio-only acceptable. First couple of discussions will be text based until I can get secure video set up. Why: Mutual relaxation and well being. Sexual connection preferred, but obviously not required.

Having a guide was helpful. Thank you.

Well… That’s something.

—

You follow Simon towards the fighting, which is not where you wanted to go. When you point this out, he barely acknowledges except to say “You don’t want to go the other way.” So you keep low and stay quiet and breathe like he told you to.

He leads you down a few halls and you don’t bother trying to remember the route. He seems to know where he’s going. One or twice he has you stop while he checks around a corner, but eventually, he herds you into a small conference room. You freeze when you see three men, but Simon drops the muzzle of his gun to the floor, so you must not be in too much danger.

“Who’s this then?” A man in tactical vest and boonie hat steps forward, and you sidle behind Simon before you know your feet are moving. He gives you a considering look before looking to Simon.

The man in question fishes you out from behind his and plants you in front of him with a heavy hand on your shoulder. “Found Bambi wandering the halls.”

Boonie Hat’s eyebrows pop up. “Bambi?”

“’Bout scared the piss out o’me,” Simon confirms.

“Well, that throws a wrench in things,” the other man says. “But there’s nothing for it. Stow her for now, we’ll keep her safe.”

Simon’s hand guides you to the other side of the large table and pushes you gently into a plush rolling chair. He puts his huge body between you and the others, who look at you curiously,

“Eyes up, li’l fawn,” he intones.

You aren’t sure how well you hide the flinch when you see the skull covering his face, again. He’s quiet as you look between his eyes, clasps his gloved hands in his lap so you can see them when you look over him.

There’s a lot of him to look over.

Now that you’re not moving, you can see the brown spots on the edge of his mask, flecked on his tactical vest. His thighs spread a bit beneath his black pants where they meet the table. His biceps bulge, which is a whole different experience in person than it is online. Theres a gun on his hip, and a knife. Two knives. Three. How many knives does a man need?

Enough for everyone’s throats. You have to bite back terrified giggles.

“You’re gonna stay ‘ere,” Simon tells you, interrupting your musing. Your horror must be plain on your face because he shushes you, again. “Shhh. Easy. This wing’s secure. Can’t keep you safe if I’m wonderin’ where you’ve wandered to. Acknowledge.”

“What if something goes wrong?” you blurt.

“You follow Price if you can't see or ‘ear me. ‘e's the Captain, outranks me,” Simon answers. He points to Boonie Hat, then to the black man, who smiles at you, and a white man with a mohawk, who looks at you like you’re the most fascinating thing he’s seen all day. “This is Gaz, that's Soap. You can't find the Captain, you sit tight and wait for one of them to retrieve you."

“But-!”

“Acknowledge, Bambi.”

You swallow back tears. “Please don’t leave me alone.”

“’M goin’ where the guns are,” he answers. “’S my job to take care of you, right? Acknowledge.”

It’s hard to get the words out, but you do. “Acknowledged. You have to take care of me.”

“’M not always going to be able to do that the way you want. Acknowledge.”

“Acknowledged. Not always the way I want.”

“’M gonna keep you safe as I can,” he says. “’Nd it’s okay that you’re scared. But this is my job. ‘S not a scene. So I can’t negotiate. Acknowledge.”

“It’s your job,” you say, taking a deep breath and letting it out. Unfortunately, you can feel the day catching up with you, and your eyes start to prickle. “It’s not a scene, we can’t negotiate right now. Acknowledged.”

The one called Gaz approaches from the other side of the table. “Ghost, we’ve got to get moving.”

Before you can integrate the realization that Simon is apparently called Ghost, the other one, Soap, peeks around Simon’s shoulder with a raised eyebrow. “This your bird, LT? Le’s get her tucked away, aye?”

Something about the way he asks if you are Simon’s bird, his girl, flips a switch in your brain. Because you’re not Simon’s girl. You’re not even supposed to have ever met in person. You’re an online sub, a weird, awkward, anxious person who couldn’t find an in person connection. And yeah, Simon-Also-Called-Ghost is an online Dom but apparently that’s because he’s running around Europe rescuing people from hostage situations!

It’s a little much.

You suck in a breath through your mouth as everything gets blurry with tears. Your whole body shakes with the sob that you try not to let out. You simultaneously want to lock every muscle in place and curl up on the ground to die.

A hiccup shakes you hard enough that you almost fall out of your chair.

Simon’s gloved hand grips the back of your head, and you’re guided to press your forehead against his thigh.

"Shhhhh," he whispers, and you can almost pretend that you’re listening to him in your ear from thousands of miles away. His pants are tough and scratchy, nothing like your pillow, but the steady pressure of his hand is so steadying. "It's okay. I know this isn't a scene, but the same rules apply. You feel overwhelmed, don’t know what to say, you hold up 4 fingers. No punishments for feeling something. Show me."

Holding up 4 fingers feels familiar. The way his hand cups the back of your skull doesn't. But it's still nice.

Sooner than you’d like, Simon guides you down off the chair and under the table. You can’t pay attention to the others, though you can see their boots on the other side of the room. Instead, you keep your eyes on his his right hand, stuck on the inane detail of skeleton themed gloves. Your dom wears skeleton gear to work. His work is killing some people and saving others.

That hand cups your chin and makes you look up into his face. His eyes are dark, piercing. His voice, when he speaks, sends shiver down your spine. “Stay. Acknowledge.”

You’re already about as low down as you can get, but you still duck your head as much as you can while keeping eye contact. “Acknowledged. Stay.”

His thumb caresses your cheek for a long moment. And then he’s standing. Chairs are pushed in to surround you, and four pairs of heavy boots dash from the room.

You curl up, hug yourself, and let the tears fall.

You wake up with a start. Your whole body hurts, shoulder and neck and hips tight like they haven’t been in a long time. And of course they are. You’re on the ground, lying under a conference table. Why the hell are you under a conference table? You’re not in college anymore, you’re too old for this shit.

And then you see a pair of huge boots round the edge of the table and remember.

Your heart is in your throat as two chairs are shifted away and a huge form drops into a crouch. A part of you flinches back from the mask, the tactical clothing, the blood you almost can’t see shining on his boot. But then you see those eyes and think, Oh. You came back for me.

[teamatsumu]

“draw me like one of your french girls.”

(rafayel x reader)

word count: 1676

warnings: fem!reader, swearing, non-sexual nudity, slightly bittersweet ending, nothing explicit

It was an insane request. One that you never should have listened to.

Your first reaction was very organic. An incredulous look of ‘what the fuck’ that included a slacked open jaw and wide eyes. Rafayel was as blank faced as ever, like he had just announced that he wanted grilled vegetables for dinner, and not that he wanted you to pose naked for him to paint.

“No.”

Now he looked up, almost affronted. “No?”

“No!” You emphasized, cheeks burning hot in embarrassment. “I’m not posing naked for you!”

“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

You smacked his arm, making him draw back with a grumble. “When have you seen me naked?!”

“Not you! But other girls.”

“You pervert.”

“It’s not like that!” You saw his ears flame, a cute little pout tugging on his lips. “I’m an artist. I’ve done lots of nude paintings.”

You gave him a blank look. “That’s….. somehow worse.”

Rafayel let out a pained sigh, lifting his head up as if asking the gods for strength. Dramatic as ever. He leaned closer to you again, and his violet eyes pleaded with you.

“Please? I promise it won’t take long. You just inspire me and I want to utilize that.”

You hesitated once more, mulling the options over in your head. Was this the best thing for your relationship right now? You and Rafayel weren’t dating, but you definitely had feelings for each other. You knew he liked you, and there was this strange push and tug that came with liking someone as ambiguous as him. You liked how things were right now, the playful banter sprinkled in between tender moments. And you really liked him. You didn’t want to mess it up.

But here he was, eyes wide and pleading, shining indigo and dreamy purples, making the carefree ruffles of his hair look all the more dreamy. You felt your resolve crack.

“Okay..” You sighed reluctantly, feeling the apprehension settle slightly when Rafayel positively lit up in response, excited that you had agreed.

“I won’t do anything that will make you uncomfortable. And if you want to stop, we stop. Okay?”

You nodded, feeling more at ease when you saw how considerate he was being. Maybe this would actually be a good experience.

Over a week and a half later was when you finally had a whole free day. When you showed up at Rafayel’s studio, you were jittery with nerves, and unable to focus on anything except the fact that you would be posing nude. He had already sent you some poses as references, and all of them placed your arms and legs tactfully in places that would conceal anything you wanted hidden. He left it all up to you though, saying anything you were comfortable with was what he would make. Nevertheless, you felt the little buzz under your skin, a mix of nerves and excitement, as you entered his place.

Rafayel turned his back to you so you could get comfortable, offering to leave the room if you wanted. You dismissed it though. This would take a few hours, might as well get accustomed to the feeling.

You perched yourself on the surprisingly comfy stool the best you could, opting to use one of the poses Rafayel sent. It was sensual without being sleazy, and it hid anything you didn’t want to reveal.

“You can turn around now.” You couldn’t hide the slight tremble in your voice.

Rafayel turned back to face you, but he didn’t look at you. He made to sit on his own stool, perched before the canvas so you could see just his eyes above the top of it. He picked up the palette in his left hand, reaching for a clean brush with his right, and then, his eyes flicked up, directly meeting yours.

Your breath paused, stuck in your chest, and you felt unfamiliar under how intense his gaze was, like a fire lit inside him as he picked up the brush. The teasing and playful Rafayel was gone. He was….. serious. Careful.

You felt like your body was burning when his eyes slowly moved downward, and his hand started moving. Gentle pitter patter of the brush on the paint, and then the delicate swish of it over the blank canvas. The room was silent besides the sound, and the ruffle of his clothes every time his arm moved. Every few seconds, his eyes would flick up again, focusing on some new detail of your body.

You had anticipated feeling nervous throughout the process, but under the monotone sounds of Rafayel’s brush, a wave of tranquility passed over you. You felt the fragile lull of the silence drape itself on the room, and you focused solely on the deep purple of his eyes, remembering when you had first met him in this very studio. He had come off as flirty and mouthy, and you remembered how unsure of him you were. You hadn’t anticipated that one day you would possibly be in love with him. And certainly not that you would bare yourself to him like this.

“Doing okay?” His voice was quiet, as if afraid to break the peace of the surrounding air. It was so gentle, like he was offering you an out if you wanted. The sound made your heart stutter. You gave him a small smile and a nod.

“I’m good.”

For the next hour and a half, Rafayel painted in silence, checking in on you every now and then, offering to take breaks. You said you felt fine, and you wanted to get this done in one sitting. Honestly, you didn’t mind it all that much once you two had started, and something about having his eyes study you the way they were made a blissful shiver run up your spine.

You almost didn’t want it to end.

When Rafayel finally announced a ‘done’ to you, the corner of his lip lifted up in triumph and joy, you released a breath of your own, unaware that you had been holding it. Rafayel stood up and walked closer to you, holding up the white robe you had previously put on. He turned his back to you again as you hopped down from the stool and put in on.

“It might be useless to ask, but can I see it?”

Rafayel gave you his signature teasing smile and a wink. “Not yet. I want to do the finishing touches before I reveal it to you.”

You sighed, not having expected anything different. Rafayel placed a gentle hand on the small of your back.

“Come on. Let’s get some food in you. You’ve been a wonderful muse. You deserve a reward.”

…………………….

‘It’s ready.’

The text made your heart leap, despite it being many days since your little session with Rafayel. Having been busy with work, you had barely even thought about the painting, though it did flit through your mind every now and then. You felt jittery with excitement when you knocked on his door that evening. Somehow, you were more nervous for the final result than you were of the process.

Maybe it was because this was Rafayel’s creation. It essentially showed you how he viewed you. What you looked like to him. The thought was nerve racking.

Rafayel opened the door with his signature teasing smile, inviting you in and immediately making a beeline for the painting because he knew how impatient you were to see it. It was covered with a plain white sheet, and you had to laugh at the theatrics of Rafayel pulling it off with flourish and revealing the piece underneath.

“Ready?” He asked, gripping the cloth in his hands. You took a deep breath and nodded, giving him permission to tug off the sheet, and he did.

Your world seemed to freeze.

You tried to suck in a breath, but it seemed to be stuck in your windpipe, unable to get past the lump forming in your throat. Your lips parted open, jaw almost slack. Your eyes darted over every detail of the canvas.

The brush strokes were careful, reasonably thin and lengthy. It looked exactly like you, and yet nothing like you at the same time. Your bare skin was glowing, your face was turned to capture the highlights of the light perfectly, and you looked absolutely radiant. Despite the shine of your hair and the glimmer of your skin, there was nothing that drew your attention more than the way he had painted your eyes.

There was a melancholy in them, a distant feeling of a bittersweet memory. Your lips were separated in a quiet O, and even your eyelashes were so detailed, like every single flick of Rafayel’s wrist had been thought out to perfectly create the image.

It took your breath away.

You turned to look at the man beside you, so speechless that even moving your tongue seemed like a feat. “Rafayel…”

“I’m assuming you like it?” He supplied, and you could see just how proud he was of his creation. You were still stuck on the fact that “this is what he thinks I look like”.

You wanted to ask so many questions. You wanted to ask him if he had exaggerated it, or if he really thought you were this beautiful. You wanted to ask him how long he had spent on it, trying to make it as perfect as possible. You wanted to ask if he would keep it or sell it.

You wanted to ask when he would give up on this back and forth limbo and finally kiss you with the same amount of love he put in this painting.

“It’s beautiful.” That’s what you settled on instead, feeling your cowardice creep up on you again. Once more, you left your emotions unsaid where they were.

Rafayel’s smile widened, softer than anything as his eyes seemed to search your face for something.

“Thank you for being my muse.”

You only smiled in return.

[euthymiya]

society of brilliance ft. veritas ratio

in which you come home and soothe veritas and his insecurities in a shared bath—which consists of you making a society just for the two of you. luckily, it’s more than enough to ease his troubled mind

contains: gender neutral reader ; non sexual nudity ; shared baths ; slight references to veritas character story iii ; reverse comfort ; veritas is not taking his lack of invitation to genius society lightly :( ; i invite you all to join my nous hate club

veritas doesn’t greet you when you come home. you’d be disappointed any other time, but the glow of light under the cracks through the bathroom door tells you precisely why he’s not there to greet you—you can’t help but be endeared.

so you pad into the bathroom, grinning softly as his head lifts from resting against the edge of the bathtub, eyes opening to glance over your figure.

they brighten a bit when they take in the view of you.

“no book?” you raise a brow, mildly shocked.

“is it hard to believe i’d like to relax without reading?” he closes his eyes again, relaxing once more as he listens to you shed your clothing.

“well, i suppose not,” you chuckle, “but you’re a bit…”

“go on,” he presses dryly, “finish your thought.”

“a bit uptight. i don’t know if you can relax without reading something or another.”

it’s cheeky, the way you bite your lip and suppress a grin, watching as he rolls his eyes (but he could never hope to hide the fondness in them, even if he tried). you reach over one the last of your clothes drop to the floor, hand cupping his cheek as he sighs and melts into your palm.

“well, i certainly won’t be relaxing now that your presence is here to disrupt my peace,” he quips, letting a smug grin of his own stretch over his cheeks as you huff.

“long day?” you murmur, tracing your thumb along his skin soothingly as he hums, pressing closer into your touch, “it must be if you couldn’t wait long enough to greet me.”

“my apologies darling,” he says quietly. you frown a little, tracing the darkening circles under his eyes as your thumb travels higher across his face. “i’m afraid my mind was a bit occupied.”

“oh veritas.”

it’s delicate, the way you say his name. fragile, like he’s one moment from sinking into the water from the weight of his mind, unable to resurface for a breath of air. veritas has been different since accepting the invitation from the ipc—a bit more defeated, perhaps. a lot more distracted.

you pull your hand away, much to his displeasure, waving it to gesture him forward in the tub as he looks at you with creases building in his forehead.

“but—”

“don’t argue for once, you difficult man,” you scold, “just do as i say.”

“how commanding,” comes his reply in a half-hearted scoff. he listens nonetheless, inching forward so you can sit yourself behind him, sinking into the warm water as you collect him in your arms and pull him to lean against your chest.

he relaxes instantly. more than he could before your arrival, like the presence of you makes breathing easier, more simple. in and out, inhale and exhale. his chest rises and falls under your hand, slow circles smoothing over the firm muscle as his head falls back against your shoulder.

veritas doesn’t let you hold him often—he prefers the weight of you in his arms, but sometimes it’s nice when you take on his weight, too. when his mind is heavy and loaded with the endless thoughts of his. and you like it too, the feeling of him pressing into you, the feeling of him settled into your hold as you keep him afloat.

you break the silence first, pressing a kiss into his head as you whisper, “care to enlighten me what’s going on in that head of yours?”

“are you sure you can handle it? i have a rather advanced thought process,” he teases.

“i’d say your mind is regressed,” you snort, squeezing the rubber duck floating in the water a small distance away.

you can practically see his pout even if it’s not in your line of sight as he clicks his teeth and says in an offended tone, “being intelligent doesn’t mean i have to deny myself of a few simple joys.”

“aren’t i the only joy you need?” you bat your lashes, kissing the back of his neck as he chuckles.

“i suppose you are sufficient enough, yes.”

“just sufficient?” you gasp, biting his shoulder playfully as he shakes against you with soft laughter. “if you don’t love me, just say that.”

“there you go again,” he hums in amusement, shaking his head as he tilts his head and eyes you with an endeared glint in his eyes, “always so theatric over the most trivial of causes.”

“someone has to keep things interesting. your idea of fun is picking apart a student’s thesis.”

“i enable them to grow,” he corrects, thoroughly unimpressed as he purses his lips and gives you a dry look. “it’s a favor, really.”

“i don’t know what to do with you. too smart for your own good.”

he sighs, slumping against your figure as he quietly mumbles, “perhaps not smart enough.”

you frown, the edges of your mouth curling in an unhappy twist downwards as you process his words. veritas is undoubtedly brilliant—you’d never thought he’d question the fact. of course, he’s tried time and time again to catch the gaze of nous, and of course, you’ve always known there’s a lingering air of self deprecation at his lack of success.

but you never thought him to doubt himself—not of his capabilities, not of his brilliance. his brilliance is the most beautiful thing about him, you think. he’s so quick to understand things—like how to figure you out like it’s easy and simple. how to love you in ways you didn’t even know you want to be loved. how to read you before you understand your own mind.

he’s so bright, so willing to share his light so you can glow too, unwilling to see you as a mere dimness beside him.

you tighten your arms around him, nuzzling your nose into his cheek as you press sweet, feathery kisses to his skin.

“if you consider yourself not smart enough, i fear for what you think of my intelligence.”

“i think you’re brilliant,” he says instantly, “there’s no doubt.”

“then why doubt yourself?”

he’s silent. you know the answer, even if he doesn’t want to say it. because if not smart enough to be acknowledged by the aeon he’s dedicated his aspirations to, the aeon that stands to represent the very purpose of his existence, the aeon that signifies the embodiment of wisdom itself—how can he consider himself enough?

how can you consider him enough? he wants to ask, but the words never form on his tongue, caught in his throat in a lump he can’t even swallow down. it’s stuck, persistently lodged and silencing him as he lays limply in your arms.

“oh, veritas,” you say with so much gentleness, he sighs shakily at the sound of his name from your tongue. so sweet, so pleasant—like it’s dipped his honey from the comb. “you are far too capable for it to be a cause for question.”

“am i?” he chuckles dryly, lips tugging ruefully into a painful smile, “perhaps i’d have reached my goals then, wouldn’t i?”

“perhaps it’s not your intelligence that separates you from the genius society,” you murmur thoughtfully, combing wet fingers through his hair, scratching tenderly at his scalp as he shivers at your touch.

“then, pray tell, what would it be, darling?” he asks, indulging you.

“your compassion, maybe. you’re of the few geniuses that don’t forget what it means to be human. i don’t think a machine declared as the face of intelligence has the capacity to understand that.”

“you shouldn’t speak of the divine like that,” he snorts.

“nobody is as divine as me,” you reply with a giggle, earning a tender squeeze at your thigh as he smiles at you with a roll of his eyes.

“is that so?”

“you don’t agree?”

he turns, kissing the pout off of your lips as he whispers, “oh, i do. i certainly do—you’re of the most divinest of beings in all of the cosmos. a truly magnificent…piece of work.”

“i’ll ignore that last part just for today,” you say pointedly. you peck his lips again, and again, and when he settles deeper into your chest, relaxing against your body, you tighten your hold around him. “but i hereby declare you an honorary member of the society of brilliance—”

he cuts you off with a short. you whine, slapping his arm in protest as he stifles his laughs.

“and just how many members are in this society?”

“currently two,” you glare, “but it’s at risk of becoming one if you mock it any further. it’s a very serious organization.”

“sorry, sorry. it won’t happen again,” he poorly fights back a grin. (and he could never hope to successfully hide a smile around your presence, he’s sure such a feat is impossible. you write joy on his features as easy as pen on paper).

“it better not. this society is far more sophisticated than that child’s play of an organization…society for geniuses, was it?”

“genius society,” he correct, playing along.

“oh yes,” you nod, pretending to snap in recognition, “that’s the one. such an undignified group of individuals. a shame—they had potential. it’s a good thing we’re not like them.”

“a relief indeed,” he smiles.

it’s so raw, so real, so pure, he can’t help but twist in your arms and press his lips to you, hoping to physically share the joy of you evident in the curl of his mouth. the dimple in his cheek. the crinkles of his eyes.

you’ve written yourself into every part of him, so seamlessly intwined with his body and mind, it’s difficult to doubt himself. because to doubt himself is to doubt you, and veritas could never hope to doubt you. not when you’re so divine, so bright and beautiful, so precious.

a wonder to society.

he’s lucky to be acknowledged by such brilliance.

“you’re the most capable man i know,” you whisper against his lips. he hums in satisfaction as you peck them gently before adding, “i have very high standards, you know.”

“i’m relieved i’ve met them. my greatest achievement to date.”

“i’m glad you’re wise enough to realize as such.”

“is my spot in your exclusive society secured then?”

“hmm. i’ll think about it—you’re still on thin ice.”

if nous has 0 haters im dead. anyway. veritas, i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you. did i mention i love you

let my man into genius society!!!! he belongs there more than anyone else!!!!! actually tbh he’s too good for that group of ppl (i say this but ruan mei is my gf sorry queen ur the exception)

[pit-and-the-pen]

Broken Pieces

Based on this request by @romantasyreader28. Thank you again for the request <3

Warnings: non-sexual nudity, brief mention of death

Wc: 3.3k

Azriel was truly at a loss. You had come back from your last mission, different. Something that in all your years working together had never happened before. All the years since being your mate, being your husband. Azriel never saw you take a mission this hard before. 

He should have sensed something was off sooner. He was the spymaster for the Night Court and he couldn’t tell when his mate was upset?

You had just come home. Walking into your shared room bleary eyed and limping. The hug he wrapped you in was quickly shrugged off. Sliping from his hold in a way that he’d never seen you do before. He put it down as exhaustion. A three day mission by yourself always wore you out. So he drew you a hot bath, helped you peel off your clothes. 

“Azriel can you…Nevermind.” You spoke, something dimming out from your eyes. He raised  his eyebrow but you turned your back on him. He just thought you wanted some privacy to deal with the layer of grime on your skin. He ignored the small pang of hurt that ran through him. You would almost always beg him to join you in baths. More than once, you’ve pulled him by his jacket into the oversized tub. Not caring that the floor got soaked or that the clothes were that much harder to take off when they were wet. You would melt in his arms only once he had your back pressed against his front. But not today. Not wanting to overcrowd you, he stepped out of the bathroom, placing the towel within arms reach and going to grab your bathrobe. He knew how much you hated leaving the warmth of a bath only to have to walk across a cold room to get dressed. Normally that wasn’t a problem because Azriel would just carry you. Normally would find other ways to make sure you kept warm. 

He sat awkwardly at the edge of the bed. Not knowing what to do with himself. He leaned back on his hands and tried to keep his rising panic away from the bond. You were just tired. He kept reminding himself. 

Eventually, you walked out of the bathroom. Clutching your bathrobe for warmth. You walked over to the dresser by the foot of the bed and started pulling out your nightclothes. Azriel’s hands twitched slightly when he saw you drop your robe to the floor, leaving you bare in front of him. Pushing himself off the bed, he walked up behind you and wrapped his arms around your middle. Light kisses pressed against your bare shoulder. You head lolled back, body finally relaxing against him. He dragged his kisses up to your neck and he felt you stiffen under him. You took a step away from him, putting just enough distance for Azriel to get the message. “Love,-”

“Azriel, please. I just want to go to bed.” He truly was beginning to panic. You were obviously allowed to not be in the mood, he would never dream of insinuating otherwise. But you wouldn’t even look at him. As much as his blood was roaring for you, he just wanted to see your smile. She’s just tired. He was all but chanting to himself. But as he let you crawl into bed, he knew it was something more than that. When he went to send a wave of comfort down the bond, he was met with no more than a brick wall. His eyebrow furrowed. Not once had you blocked off your side of the bond. Neither of you had. Not when your job required so much distance and was so dangerous. He was shaking as he walked over to his side of the bed. The side you normally insisted on occupying half of so he would have to pick you up and pull you onto his chest. He was at a loss for words. He just stared at your frame. Unable to think about the right thing to say to you. He had never felt more helpless in all of his time of being your mate. How many times have you comforted him? How many times did you patch him up when he wanted nothing more than to fall apart? And here he was gaping at your turned back. Unable to return that for you. 

He climbed into bed and went to wrap his arm around your now shaking frame. His heart broke at the sob that broke past your lips. It broke even further when you scooted out of his grip without a word. He was forced to listen to your sniffles and see the shake in your shoulders without being able to comfort you. He didn’t fall asleep until he heard your breathing even out, until the sniffles stopped and he knew you were asleep. 

The next morning you were still asleep when he woke up. He didn’t hold much hope that you were going to be magically better this morning but a small part of him wished it to be true. Even though you were right next to him in bed, having curled up into his side during the night, he felt so far away from you. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you for what might be the only time today. You nuzzled deeper into his side, the soft snore that left your mouth the only indicator that you were still asleep. He just held you, his mind reeling with ways he could fix this. 

You started to stir in his hold. He didn’t let you go, only loosened his arms so he wasn’t squeezing you as much. You curled into him even more before you stiffened, he saw your eyes for only a second before you pulled his arm off of you and turned away from him. You didn’t look at him again as you climbed out of bed and went to the dresser to grab clothing for the day. You stalked over to the divider in the room and Azriel could only see your faint outline as you changed and walked out of the room, leaving without so much of a glance his way. He just sat there, looking at the slightly open door and let you walk away. 

Azriel was out of ideas. So he dressed slowly and then headed down the hallways to Rhys’ study. He didn’t knock and his brother took one look at him and put down the paper he had been looking over. 

“How is she?” So Rhys knew.

“I don’t know. She won’t talk to me. Did she..”

“She didn’t come see me after her mission and that’s never a good sign.” 

“I don’t know what to do. Rhys she won’t even let me touch her.” He felt a slight tinge of shame at talking to Rhys about this, about your personal life like this. But he needed his advice. He really needs both of his brothers' advice. And like he could hear him, Cassian walked into the room. He sat in the chair next to Azriel. A shadow slinking up Azriel’s shoulder to give him an update about your whereabouts, the priestess library. Well at least you weren’t fully alone. He would accept that. But it also meant you didn’t want to talk to him. His brothers must have sensed his growing anxiety because Cassian placed a light hand onto his shoulder, sympathy shining in his eyes. 

“I have to watch as the girl I love… slips away” Azriel spoke to his brothers. Rhys’ face dropped and even Cassian didn’t dare to speak. “I don’t know how to help her or even if she wants me to help her but… I just don’t know.” And if there was anything Azriel hated in this world, it was not having an answer. No amount of spying or sneaking would help him fix what was going on in your own head. 

“She probably just needs time.”

“Rhys, she’s fully blocked me out. I’m losing my mind right now not being able to feel her through the bond.” Rhys shook his head, understanding the feeling all too well. 

“Just give her time.” Was all his brother said. Azriel’s shadow’s became a flurry at the thought, wrapping around him and hiding him from his brothers views. He knew he needed to give her space but the urge to comfort his mate was eating him alive already. What type of mate was he if he couldn’t make you feel better? He didn’t want to think about it but it was starting to consume him.

You didn’t return to your room that night. He waited for hours, sending his shadows all around Velaris to look for you. They found you in your old room. Curled up, crying herself to sleep. Very sad, needs you, sent us out of the room. They informed him. Regardless of his shadows all but pulling him from the bed, he stayed put. If you wanted to be alone, he would give you space. As much as it killed him to do so. 

Easier said than done apparently. He lasted all of three days before he started to seek you out. Something that was very hard to do when he personally taught you how to avoid being detected. If it wasn’t for his shadows, he wouldn’t even know you were still in the house. But everytime they told him of your location, you would be gone before he could reach you. It was the most frustrating thing he had ever experienced. He was wound so tight he was starting to avoid Rhys and Cassian, for no other reason than he couldn’t stand to see the concern in their faces. Azriel had barely been able to sleep without you next to him, with his shadows all but screaming at him to go to his mate every second of the day. 

HE was going crazy, he knew it. His hands were clenching and unclenching by his side as Rhys was speaking to him, not listening to a single word coming out of his mouth. Your figure passed by him in the hallway and it was all he could do to politely excuse himself from Rhys’ side. He ungracefully ran to catch up with you. He was about to grab your wrist before you froze in front of him. You stood facing away from him, but didn’t move, utterly still. 

“Please. Just look at me.” He felt his skin crawl as you still didn’t move. HIs shadows had wrapped around your shoulders, your arm,your legs, all over you. You didn’t lower your shoulders. But he was graced with the slow turn that brought your tense face into his view. The muscles in your jaw clenched tight, eyes casted over his shoulder, refusing to look him in the eye. 

“PL-”

“Azriel, I can’t… I can’t talk about it. Please just stop.” Your lip trembled, voice tense but soft. 

He sank down onto his knees, maybe begging, maybe praying to a god to be able to help you.

“Please, what's wrong.” Azriel clutched your hand. You looked at him but he could tell the slight fog in your eyes that you weren’t truly seeing him. You shook your head as your eyes returned to him. As you were pulled from that memory. 

“You’ll hate me if I tell you. I hate myself.” You choked out.

“Darling, I could never hate you.” You shook your head at his words. 

“No, this was… unforgivable.” 

“Do you know what I do for this court? Trust me, I’ve seen and done far worse.”

“It was a kid. They were a shifter. I didn’t know until I was holding their lifeless body. Until their mother broke down the door. She was…I should have let her kill me.” Your hands were shaking, you were rubbing them against the leg of your pants. Trying to wipe them clean, he recognized the repeated motion. It would happen sometimes when you just felt like your hands couldn’t get clean. It happened when you had a particularly bad reaction to a victim. I still feel the blood for days after. Can see it sometimes. You had told him once. So he did the only thing he could offer you at that moment. Azriel lightly took your hands in his, pulling them away from your pants. Placing feather light kisses to each joint in your finger, placing a handful of extras on the ring with a piece of his siphon embedded into it. He flipped your hand over and copied his trail of kisses. Followed onto your palm, up to your wrist. He didn’t let that hand drop as he turned his attention to your other hand. Trailing kisses all over until that was the only thing you could feel. Until the phantom blood would be replaced by the warmth of his lips. 

He knew you were crying. But your hands were only slightly trembling now. When Azriel went to pull away, you clutched him so hard he thought it would bruise. Nails biting slightly into his skin. He didn’t flinch. Just let you guide him up and into your arms. Clinging to him like he was a life persevere and you were drowning. And you were. For the first time in days, he felt that door on the other side of the bond open and the wave of grief and sorrow that filled him only had him pulling you tighter against him. 

“You didn’t know. Rhys didn’t know either, I’m assuming?” He felt your head shake against his shoulder. No.

“You didn’t know.”

“That doesn’t make it okay. I should have been able to tell. The way he spoke… I just thought he was low born. He was one of the best assassins that Hewn city has seen in centuries and he couldn’t have been more than fifteen.” 

“I’m so sorry.”

“I buried them both. I couldn’t just leave them. I even tried to leave something for them, some identifier but… I can still see them when I close my eyes. He was so small…” Your voice broke on the word and you were pushing on his chest then, writhing to get out of his arms and so he released you. As much as he didn’t want to. He let you go and watched as you crumpled to the ground. Head in your hands and knees drawing close to your chest. He didn't touch you as he sank down to his knees in front of you. He just sat with you in your grief. He breathed louder than normal, a silent encouragement for you to breathe with him. Slowly, you did. your chest rising and falling slowed until they matched. You pulled your head up slowly. Eyes shiny and red. 

“Can we go to bed?” your voice wasn’t louder than a whisper. He nodded, opening his arms in question. you nodded back and Azriel scooped you up in his arms, you buried your head into his chest, blocking out the rest of the world. 

He delicately held you in his arms as he walked into the room, kicking the door shut behind him.“Do you want to bathe first?” You nodded, not raising your head from where it rested. 

So he walked into the bathroom and shifted you onto the counter, keeping a hand on your knee as he started to draw the bath. He walked back over to you and stood between your legs, wrapping his arms around your middle. “Can I take these off?” His fingers were lightly tracing the bottom of your shirt and you nodded. Ever so gently, he pulled the cotton over your head, placing a small kiss to the top of your nose when it was over your head. He popped you up long enough to get your pants down your legs. He was slightly disappointed with himself for still finding you so beautiful, even with the tear marks sticking to your face. You were the most gorgeous female he had ever laid eyes on and he let you know that. You blushed and pulled him down for a light kiss. It was just a quick peck. He went to turn off the water before it could spill over the edge of the tub. He picked you up again and slowly lowered you into the water. He turned away, giving you some privacy, but you only took his hand in your and stared up at him. 

“Can you…get in?” The slight tremble in your voice had him nodding before you even finished. He didn’t care what words were about to come out of your mouth, he would do it. So he peeled himself out of his clothes and joined you in the hot water. Slightly too hot for his preference but just the way you liked it. He pulled you against his front and picked up the shampoo you used. 

He cupped some water into his hands to wet your hair and worked the soap through. Fingers stretching at your scalp in the process, you leaned further back into him savoring the feeling of his hands in your hair. Once he was done, he washed the bubbles out with the cup by the edge of the tub. Covering your face lightly with his hand to avoid getting it into your eyes. He handed you the sponge and his body wash, the scent always soothed you when you were upset, giving you space to wash your own body. His hands did smooth the soap off your shoulder and back, but he knew what would happen to his own body if he dragged that sponge over your soft skin and this wasn’t about that. This was him taking care of his mate and nothing more. He took a deep breath to push those thoughts away from the front of his mind, a soft wave of nothing but pure adoration washed down the bond as he did so, fully banishing the thoughts from him. He stepped out of the bath first to grab the towel that was hanging on the edge of the door. He quickly dried himself off before he went  to pick you up from the now lukewarm bath. He wrapped you up in the towel and carried you over to the bed. He placed you down in the middle and you sat watching him as he went over to the dresser to grab something for you to put on. You shook your head at him and pulled the covers over yourself. 

 So he joined you, shuffling you onto his chest. You both laid like this for a few minutes, lazily drawing shapes onto your back with his hands. This was just about needing to feel your mate close to you. A need to feel something. A content sigh left you as you nuzzled into his chest, hand already going to circle around the patch of hair at the center. His own hands were brushing over your hair. Neither of you spoke, both content to lay in your own little bubble of quiet. He listened to your breathing slow slightly and knew you had drifted off to sleep. He couldn’t find it in himself to let his eyes close. He could only stare down at his amazing mate. His wife. His everything. The person who felt so deeply that she had made graves for the people she wasn’t supposed to care about. Who would have been content to drown in grief alone at the thought of what she had accidentally done. Your rule was simple, one that everyone else echoed, no children and no mothers. Despite all the things you had done for the Night Court, there were boundaries that even Rhys would never cross. He would have to tell Rhys what happened, encouraging his brother to let Azriel gather intel before sending in his mate to finish the job. But that could all wait until the morning. Tonight he would be with his mate, tonight he would do his best to take the weight of the world off your shoulders.

tagging the girlies: @daycourtofficial @sarawritestories @milswrites @prythianpages

[pinkanonwrites]

Washrack Academy

Jetstorm and Jetfire have a lot of questions about humans. But you? You just want to take your shower in peace.

TFA Jetfire, TFA Jetstorm, and Reader, no ships but it's implied Jetfire has a little crush on the reader, human reader, non-sexual nudity, is it still voyeurism if it's mostly fueled by curiosity? probably, AFAB Reader with GN Pronouns, alien anatomy discussions

"You know, humans are being much more hygienic than Sentinel says they are being."

You rolled your eyes, hefting your small duffel bag further up your shoulder. "Yeah, well Sentinel doesn't know as much about humans as he thinks he does. Most people I know shower every other day at the very least. We aren't big fans of being dirty."

"But now you are being extra dirty!" Jetstorm loomed over you with a cheeky grin, running a huge metal digit over the top of your head. A slick of motor oil came with it, sending another disgusted shiver down your spine at the gooey sensation. "Bumblebee maybe needs to working on power steering! And not splashing human friends with drinks of celebration."

Being a human liaison representing the city of Detroit on Cybertron was already a job way outside of the normal parameters of your career, and the stress was leaving you pretty wired. But Bumblebee accidentally tipping an oversized can of motor oil off a table and directly onto your head while showing off just had to be the final nail in the coffin. In front of a whole bunch of big important Autobots and everything.

Now you were being flanked on either side by Sentinel Prime's personal squadron (a gig they eagerly volunteered for and a choice both you and Sentinel had little say in) as they showed you to whatever the Cybertronian equivalent of an army base locker room was so you could get cleaned up. 

"And motor oil not to be damaging your fluffy organic fibers?" Great, now Jetfire was poking at your greasy hair too. At least he had half a processor to keep his igniters off while he did.

"It's called hair. And it'll only damage it if I leave it in too long. Plus, it's really bad for my skin."

"Good for it not to be doing badness to hair! Yikes for it to be doing badness to skin. So sensitive, little organics. Must be very hard!"

"You're telling me, bud."

"Here! Coming this way." Jetstorm gestured for you to follow him through a tiled doorway. The room beyond looked remarkably similar to the locker room you'd had in high school, though blown up to a cartoonish scale. "We have tiny washrack for mini-bot sizes. Maybe too big for you still, but is better than nothing!"

He wasn't exaggerating, the handles for the mini-bot sized faucets were still a good two or three feet out of your reach. 

"Where do you even put your towels? Your soap?" You glanced around but failed to find any bench or wall divot suitably placed for setting your things down. "Is there anywhere I can set my bag?"

"Just be putting bag into subspace! Easy for peasy!" A small compartment popped open on Jetstorm's chest, and from it he procured… a metal scouring pad? A giant one, about the size of a large restaurant platter. If the situation weren't so incredibly absurd already, you might've gotten a chuckle out of the idea of a robot using a Brillo pad as a loofah.

"Yeah, we don't… humans don't have that." You said instead. Because this situation was, in fact, incredibly absurd.

Jetfire and Jetstorm looked at each other, mirrored expressions of visible confusion. Then, they both shrugged.

"Being a human…"

"...Is very difficult!"

"Look, just- can one of you hold it for me? Please?"

"For certain! I will be best at human wash rack supplies holder job! Be counting on me." You dropped your duffel bag into Jetfire's cupped hands and wrenched it open. Grabbing your various bottles of hair product and a large towel from within, you lined them up on the floor along the wall and hopefully just beyond the reach of the shower's spray. But as you moved for the bottom of your shirt to pull it off, you felt the prickle of two pairs of optics staring just a little bit too hard at your body.

"Are you two just gonna… watch me? You can wait outside, you know."

"We are to be protecting you from curious bots! And make sure you do not do the snooping or the wandering off." Jetstorm insisted.

"Are you gonna do that while staring me down? A little privacy, please." Was it ironic to ask for privacy in a locker room? Probably. But most people had the decency not to stare while someone was getting undressed. 

Most people. Maybe that sentiment didn't extend to twelve foot tall transforming robot soldiers.

"Staring? Who is doing the staring? Certainly not us goodness bots!" 

"No, no! We would never be the staring! Especially not at soft and squishy little human frame!"

Both brothers rushed to cup a servo over their optics, continuously asserting their supposed innocence all the while. You sighed, peeling your way out of your slick and permanently stained clothes and letting them fall to the ground in an oily heap.

"Well I don't know how it is on Cybertron, but on Earth staring at people in the locker room is what we call 'bad manners.' You two ever heard of those?"

"We will being so very manners-filled! No staring from us at you, big promise." Jetfire insisted, carefully depositing your bag into his subspace as he brought his other servo up so they were both covering his faceplate.

"Though do not be trying to do the sneaking off while we are look-away! That would be also called 'bad manners.'" Added Jetstorm with a cheeky thumbs-up.

"I'm not going to go sneaking around your base naked, so you don't need to worry about that. Now could one of you get the water for me, please?"

As Jetstorm felt along the wall and cranked the water to partial blast, you swear you heard him ask his brother 'But what is "naked" meaning?' The hiss of the showerhead quickly covered it, though, and you decided you'd rather focus on getting clean before you struggled to explain the foreign concept to the pair of ridiculous twins. The water ran just hot enough to make your skin tingle as you lathered your hair with shampoo, vigorously scrubbing the motor oil free from your scalp. It'd probably take more than a few rinses to get everything out, you'd have to ask Professor Sumdac to bridge you some more toiletries way sooner than you'd originally planned. Maybe Sari could pick some up for you on her next trip home?

But as you lathered your hair up for the fourth (maybe fifth?) time, you couldn't help but notice a quiet, metallic buzzing that could just barely be heard over the hiss of water. It paused and fizzed in a rhythmic pattern, not all too dissimilar from Morse Code. It would stop for a moment, before picking up again, slightly lower pitched this time. It sounded almost like… a conversation.

"If you've got something to say, you can say it out loud." You called them out. Jetfire startled at the sound of your voice, his own sounding slightly strained. 

"What? But we are such quiet being!"

"You're doing that… that 'EM field' thing. Where you talk to each other with your brains? I've heard Bee and Bulkhead do it before. So, c'mon. What do you want to know?"

He clammed up, absentmindedly scuffing one of his pedes against the tiled floor. Jetstorm, meanwhile, had a sly grin growing across his faceplate. He raised his free servo up in the air like a student waiting to be called on.

"Actually, Jetfire is having a question!"

"I-I am not! Do not listen, brother is merely making funny joke!"

"No, no! Do not listen to him! Jetfire is very, very curious about human not having sp-MRMPH!"

A cacophony of metal on metal echoed through the wash racks as Jetfire tackled his brother to the wet tile, wrestling his servos over the other's intake to keep him quiet. Jetstorm grabbed for his brother's goggles and pulled him into a shaky headlock, even as Jetfire repeatedly kicked him in the knees with the flat of his pede. You scrambled to grab your towel, clutching it to your front as the two bots collapsed to the ground in an ear-splitting crash.

"Hey, HEY! Quit it! What the hell are you two doing?!"

Both of their heads snapped up at your tone, Jetstorm still looking mischievous while his brother had the decency to look a bit sheepish. He quickly pried Jetfire's servo off of his intake.

"Jetfire is wanting to know why humans do not have spike! You know, since he was doing the peeking."

"Y-You were also doing peeking! I know you were curious too!" Jetfire shot back.

"Maybe curious, yes, but you are obsessed! 'Oh, little humans are so soft and so squishy being! Why so warm? I want to be holding one!'"

"I am not sounding like that! You are making exaggeration!"

Jetfire seemed on the verge of tackling his brother again, so you quickly stepped in. "Okay, geez, look. I will answer one, ONE! Question each. And only if you stop hitting each other. That's it. I don't have the energy for this today."

The two bots awkwardly clambered back to their feet, Jetstorm looking down at you with a playful grin while Jetfire seemed to be looking anywhere but your unclothed frame.

"Brotherrrrr?" Jetstorm teased. "Would you like to be going first?" 

Jetfire dignified his brother's teasing with a sharp elbow to the side, but spoke anyway. "S-Sorry to be peeking when you said not, but, um, do humans not have- uh, not have spike? Or is it hidden? Maybe not pressurized? If embarrassing you don't have to say. No biggee."

You furrowed your brow. 'Spike.' You don't think you'd heard any of the Autobots use that term before, at least not around you. Maybe it was a built-in weapon? Or some sort of specialized armor plating?

"I, uh, I don't know what a spike is. Sorry. Can you be… more specific?"

Jetfire let out a high-pitched sound, similar to heat escaping a tea kettle, while his brother only seemed to beam even brighter at his humiliated suffering.

"Ah, you know! Spike!" Jetstorm grinned. "Right here, above valve? Comes out like 'fssshh'? No modesty panel on you, so maybe just hidden away!" He made a bunch of vague motions in front of his crotch, and with a looming horror you started to catch on as he mimed the motion of something growing and rising up in front of his crotch plate. His modesty panel.

Holy shit they had robot dicks.

"N-No? No, I don't have a- a spike." You were doing your absolute best to stay focused on the conversation at hand, not think about… about the robot penis that apparently all Cybertronians had? "Humans, uh, most humans just have one or the other. The, um, the spike or the… the…"

"Valve?" Jetstorm happily supplied.

"Sure? I guess?!"

"Something new to be learned every day! Right, brother?" Jetstorm thumped his brother on the back with an open servo, while Jetfire was openly refusing to make eye contact with you. The temperature in the room seemed to peak by a few degrees, and based on the heat waves rolling off of Jetfire's body you had an inkling suspicion it was his doing, however unintentional it may be. "Anyways, my turn, yes? You said word 'naked'. What is 'naked' meaning?"

"Uh, y-yeah. Um, yeah. Sure." God, you did not have the mental fortitude to deal with these revelations today. "Naked just means you're not… covered up? Wearing clothes. There are some parts on a human that have to be covered in public, otherwise it's uh… inappropriate." Your only solace was that now you had some sort of comparison to make between Cybertronians and humans. "Like, you guys wouldn't walk around with your… your spike out? Same for humans."

"Ohhh…" They even had stunned realizations in unison. You'd almost consider it cute, if you weren't already so burnt-out.

"Yep, well, class is over. Can I please get dressed now? Preferably without being watched?"

"A-Ah! Yes, of course! So sorry! Here is things." Jetfire quickly fumbled your duffel out of his subspace, only for it to slip through his digits and hit the floor with a thud. Wincing, he turned to shove his brother from the room, calling over his shoulder to you as they went. "We will be watching door so no bots do peeking! Then there is no way we be seeing you naked, not even little bit! Seeing you in moment- but not naked! Just normal seeing!"

"O-Okay? I'll be out in… a bit." But they were already gone. Weird. Weird couple of bots. But hey, at least now you could dry your hair in peace.

~  ~  ~  ~  ~  

"Very bumpy landing, brother." Jetstorm couldn't fight his mirthful grin as he stared down at his spark-twin, who was currently sitting with his back to the wall outside the wash racks, knee-joints pulled up tight to his chassis and faceplate hidden from view. "I may not be seeing exact same appeal you do, but humans are verrrrrry entertaining being. That human especially so!"

"I wish to be offline." Jetfire lamented. "So awkward, very very uncool. They will never be speaking to me again."

"Do not be so downer, brother! They answer questions very nice, and do not even yell when you peeking at their array!"

Jetfire let out another pathetic wail. "Do not be reminding me! Me, caught peeking? Would rather scrub every rivet on Omega Supreme than be that embarrassing again." He slammed his helm against the tops of his knee-joints a few times for good measure, a loud, echoing clanking reverberating down the hall. "Why are little humans being so soft? A-And when covering self, why are little peeks of soft bits around towel so- so erotic?"

Jetstorm cackled, patting his brother atop the helm with his servo. "And to think, we thought being human is hard. Sounds like liking human is much, much harder!"

[violetsiren90]

Arms Around Me

(A Light of Your Eyes universe drabble)

Pairing: best friend's younger brother!Changbin x f!Reader

Genre: drabble; established (secret) relationship; smut/fluff/angst

Summary: Three months after you show up on your best friend's doorstep to find her brother instead, Changbin thinks it's time to let Nari know that things have changed.

Content warnings: 18+ (minors, DNI); explicit sexual content; seated cowgirl; intimate sex; eye contact; unprotected vaginal sex; internal ejaculation; cock warming; praise kink - because we all know he has one, okay??; showering together; a little sexy joking; nudity; kissing and embracing; teasing (non sexual); mentions of reader's hair being washed; FLUFF 🥰; some guilt and anxiety; tough conversations; Binnie goes off script (but he's also just the sweetest and realest); Binnie down BAD; a pretty intense argument; cursing in an argumentative context; minor panic attack symptoms and disassociation; crying (hurt/comfort, honestly), emotional intimacy and vulnerability for the win 💕

Word Count: ~5000.

Author's Note: I did NOT expect to drop this today of all days, but here it is nonetheless! You know, just in case you needed any more reason to lose your mind over this man...🤪. It turned out longer and angstier than I initially imagined, but once I started they took over entirely and now we have the second part of their little love story! I apologize in advance for how many times I mentioned Changbin's big buff arms, they are my current Roman Empire, and I will honestly never be normal about how much this guy makes me wanna just bite him.

To anyone who reads, thank you! I hope this story brings you something soft and sweet.

And as always, if no one has told you yet today, please know that you're loved and worthy of love! 🧜‍♀️💜

“Look at me, beautiful,” Changbin’s breathless voice pleads as your eyes flutter open from where he’s tilted your head back to take you in.

His hand cradles the back of your neck with a tender strength as it lolls against his grip with each roll of his hips where they press up to meet yours. From under heavy lids, you drink him in.

His handsome face, inches from yours, is flushed with his efforts. Thick dark hair clings to his damp brow above hooded eyes that look as desperate as you feel. Your arms are curled around his neck, your soft body flush with his sturdy one where he sits on the edge of the bed wrapped in you. Arms clinging to his shoulders, legs bent at the knee on either side of his hips as he grinds up into where you stretch around the thickness of him. Your quads burn as you raise your hips the few inches you’re still able before letting your ass fall with a slap to his muscular thighs again and again.

He must be close, you think, as you try your best through your fucked out haze to focus on the intensity of his gaze - he always wants them when he comes, your eyes on his. Your lips are parted by a groan as his left hand leaves your waist to splay over your lower abdomen between your bodies, this thumb pressed to your clit. You’re close too.

“Bin…” you whimper softly, and he pulls you to his lips, salty with sweat.

You gasp into his mouth, swallowing each other’s cries as the knot in your core bursts and you come, squeezing around his cock. He follows you over the edge, releasing inside you with a cry as you quiver against him, parted lips still hovering over his own.

You kiss him, sweet and slow and spent, and he flips you onto the bed so his body lays over yours, still inside you though growing soft. His weight presses you into the mattress and you sigh, so utterly at ease, body and soul, when he shields you from the world. His head raises from where it collapsed to your breast and you take his face in your hands as he beams down at you with twinkling dark eyes and his little crooked grin.

“Hi,” you smile up at him, stroking over his full cheeks with your thumbs.

“You came with me again,” he murmurs, still half out of breath. Your lips stretch into a smirk.

“Can’t help it, you’re too good at getting me there,” you answer, leaning up for another kiss before nipping at his plump bottom lip. 

His smile widens and he drops his face to nuzzle his nose into your neck below your ear. 

“I’m too good, huh?” his voice comes in a raspy hum against your skin. You drag your fingers through his damp, curling locks.

“You know you are, Seo Changbin. You know what you do to me,” you chide.

“Say it anyway.”

You smile, your eyes pressing into crescent moons, and you tilt your lips toward his ear.

“You make me feel like nobody else could ever,” you whisper, your mouth ghosting his lobe.

He twitches inside you. You chuckle quietly as you press another kiss to his neck.

“God, I’m so lucky!” you murmur teasingly, but he presses himself up to meet your eyes, not a bit of jest in the ones now gazing down at you.

His beautiful face is grave and lovely as his eyes trace yours with a reverence that only ever seems to grow with time.

“Nah,” he shakes his head, bringing the backs of his fingers to gently drag across your cheek, “I’m the lucky one.”

Your breath catches in your chest.

It’s been three months since you lost a dozen games of Super Smash Bros Brawl and your whole entire heart. Three months of rediscovering yourself in the unfamiliar and beautiful context of deep and sincere adoration. Three months of giddy laughter and quiet vulnerability and the safety of strong, gentle arms.

Three months of heaven.

Three months of Changbin.

“I have a confession to make,” his voice comes from over your shoulder and the patter of water against the shower floor.

You hum in response, eyes closed as his fingers lather shampoo against your scalp, filling the humid air with the scent of lemongrass and lavender. His other arm is wrapped around your waist, pulling you close so that your bare back leans flush with his chest.

“…I told Chris.”

Your eyes open, droplets clinging to your lashes like dew.

“About us?”

His hand skims up your side and moves to cup your forehand and tilt it back as you feel the warm spray of the showerhead through your tresses. When the suds are gone he turns you around, hands on your hips. He looks like the cat who caught the canary as he nods and smirks, and you can’t help but smile yourself, even as you attempt to harness an expression of disapproval.

“How’d that happen?”

“He basically called me out on it. Said only one thing could make me so stupidly happy.”

“Mind-blowing sex?” you murmur, pressing your slick skin to his.

“You,” he corrects, his eyes glimmering as he leans down to press wet lips to yours. When he pulls away, you consider for a moment.

“You mean…he knew you liked me? Before?”

“You think my best buddy wouldn’t?”

A pang of guilt twists in your stomach at the remark. Your best friend is still very much in the dark about…well, everything where you and her brother were concerned. You chew your bottom lip as he helps you out of the shower. Absently reaching for the towel he holds out, you blink into focus as your hand clutches at air when it’s drawn back out of your reach.

“What…hey, why are you…?” you glance at Changbin, who is now holding the towel over his head, a victorious look on his features as his eyes rove your form.

“I like you naked. Five more minutes!” He whines with a chuckle as you swat his bulging pectoral and snatch the towel cradling his hips to wrap around your own damp body.

“You’re ridiculous,” you grumble with a smirk, but you adore it - how taken he is with every part of you. How he always wants to touch you, hold you, be close to you in any way he can. And how he never shies away from saying just exactly how you make him feel. 

Though, you’ve noticed a shift in that particular respect over the last few weeks.

You watch him rumple the towel over his hair.

Sometimes he holds something back. You can always see it, lingering behind his eyes and at the corners of this mouth. You can feel it on the tips of his fingers and at the end of each sweet kiss. But it’s grown with time, and you feel the weight of it each time his eyes rest on you when he thinks you’re not aware. 

You suppose it’s only natural that there should still be some mystery between you. Even after all the years you’ve known him, these were uncharted waters, and ones you’d strayed into more than a little clandestinely.

Keeping your relationship secret has had its benefits. It’s given you time to grow without the judgements and perceptions of others playing a part in your gentle discovery of one another. It’s also taken the pressure off of things - not having to answer questions from anyone you haven’t even had the chance to ask yourselves. And it was fucking sexy, to be honest, all the sneaking around. Inconvenient at times to be sure, but still deliciously indulgent to the rebel in you both. 

But as you watch him open the mirrored cabinet to grab the toothbrush he keeps in your bathroom your heart skips a beat and you wonder if it’s time the jig is up.

You settle behind him, slipping your arms around his middle and resting the side of your head against his broad back.

“What did Chris have to say? About me and you?” you ask softly.

Changbin spits into the sink.

“He was stoked for us.”

You smile.

“He did ask if Nari knew.”

You sigh.

“I think she should by now,” he says, turning to speak over his shoulder. “I think it’s time.”

You hum into his skin.

“The longer we wait, the harder it’s going to be. A few months of privacy is alright, we’re still in the clear.”

He’s right. You know he is. You press your damp forehead into his back and sigh.

“It’ll be fine,” he says around his toothbrush.

“She’s gonna freak,” you groan.

“She’ll get over it.”

You sincerely fucking hope so. The faucet squeaks shut and he turns, wrapping you in his big arms, to press a minty kiss to your lips.

“Stop fretting, beautiful,” his dark eyes sparkle down at you, “We’re gonna be okay. Nari too.”

Your heart melts as it settles and his mouth seeks yours again. Yeah. You were gonna be just fine.

You take a deep breath as you ring the bell, and you look down at your feet, shuffling them nervously as you wait for Nari’s door to open. You think back to that night, to Changbin standing on the doorstep with a dish towel over his shoulder. You think of everything that’s changed, and you hope that your best friend can see the beauty in what they’ve become.

You had both wanted to tell Nari yourselves, but you ultimately decided that together would be best. You arranged a hang-out and she suggested dinner at her place. Changbin would show up too, and you’d drop the news after spending some time together.

You raise your eyes.

“Hey, girl!” Nari chimes as the door swings open for you. She’s in joggers and a tank top and she eyes your sundress with an impressed air. “You look cute…” she murmurs as she walks back into the living room and collapses into an armchair. “Oh, and Bin showed up so he’s having dinner with us, alright?”

You nod, swallowing as you dump your purse and sink onto the couch.

“So you feel like Thai or - hey, what’s wrong?” Nari frowns as she looks up from her phone, eyes darting over your face.

Dammit. You shake your head and shoot her a smile. 

“Nothing. Thai sounds great.”

You chew your lip. Your heart is pounding in your chest. You look at Nari. She’s so tiny, but she’s got more fire than anyone you know. You know that whatever happens, this won’t break your bond - nothing could - so why do you feel like you’re about to hurl? You glance over your shoulder, not seeing any sign of Changbin, and you turn back to look at your friend as she scrolls, legs tossed over the arm of her seat.

“Hey, Nari…” 

She hums, not looking up.

“Nari.”

She looks at you and for a moment you just hold her gaze. Things are about to change, and you’re scared - no, you’re terrified - so you just memorize the feeling of the space between you and everything it's been until now. She swings her feet forward and abandons her phone.

“Dude, what’s wrong?” she presses, her pretty features schooled in an expression of concern.

“Look…just know that…” you begin to stammer. And then you hear him.

You usually hear him before you see him. The deep resonance of his voice calling through the house from the garage door. He emerges from the hall, wiping oil stains from his hands with worn cloth. He’s in a white tee shirt and jeans. He’s got a smudge on his cheek. He’s adorable and handsome and you have to stop yourself from running to him.

“Someone just blue torqued your oil cap on, that was all. Next time y—” he catches sight of you on the couch and his eyes go softer and warmer and the smirk on his lips is almost bashful. 

“Hey, beautiful,” he greets you, and your eyes go wide.

“What the fuck?” Nari says, looking up from her phone at her brother as he takes a seat next to you on the couch. 

“Seriously?” you whisper at him in pleading distress, “That’s not how this was supposed to go.”

“What I was saying,” Changbin gives you a reassuring smile and continues, abandoning the rag on his knee to take your hand in his, “Is that whoever changed your oil screwed the cap on too tight.” He’s looking his sister dead in the eye with an air of total placidity and just a hint of defiance.

You whip your head toward your friend, who has frozen where she sits, staring with narrowed eyes at your joined hands.

“Why are you doing that? Stop it.” The tone of her voice seems to offer you one last chance to pull away from him and say what she’s witnessing isn’t what it looks like. What it is.

“What the hell am I looking at right now?” she mutters lowly, her tone just short of acidic.

“We wanted to talk to you…” you press out, not meeting her eyes, “To tell you…”

“We?” she snaps incredulously.

“Hey,” Changbin intercedes, “Let's not lose our heads…”

She stands and scoffs.

“Lose our heads?!” she grits out, “Have you lost your fucking minds?” She blinks, glancing around in disbelief. She looks at you, her face etched with anger and confusion. “He is not the guy you’ve been…” She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath.

You take your shot in the moment of silence that follows.

“It’s not like that, I swear. We didn’t mean for it to happen but—"

“But you got dumped and decided that my brother’s dick was the cure for your sorrows?! Unbelievable.”

“Yah, don’t bring my dick into this!” Changbin protests.

“You are the one that did that, buddy!” she shouts, hands balled into fists.

You barely hear them. You’ve gone mute since her last remark and your ears ring with it. Is that what she thinks of you? Lonely and desperate and selfish? Doubt starts to tighten like a coil in your chest, a little voice you haven’t heard from in a while whispering that she’s right. Your breath starts to come quickly as Changbin and Nari’s voices ring in the air above you.

It isn’t until you feel two strong hands on your shoulders that you realize you’ve spaced out.

“Hey,” he murmurs, brow drawn in concern, “Hey, look at me.”

You blink up at him as your pulse hammers in your ears.

“It’s okay, hey…” he says, pulling you against his chest and you sigh softly. You see Nari for a split second over his shoulder before you shut your eyes, catching her expression waver for a moment as she regards you in his arms.

“This isn’t gonna fly,” Changbin says firmly over his shoulder, and then he pulls you back to meet your eyes. “Let us talk for a second, yeah? Just for a minute. Can you wait in the guest room?” he asks gently.

Your mouth is dry, but you try to answer him.

“I…this is about me too, I…”

“I know,” he interrupts you softly, “But just trust me on this. Just a couple minutes. Okay?”

You nod, and as you back away from him, you glance at Nari. She’s sunk back into her chair and if her body could speak it would tell you to get the fuck out. She’s turned as far away from you as humanly possible without facing the backrest, her hands white-knuckling the arm. You let out a shuddering breath, willing yourself not to let your adrenaline swallow you whole as you head for the guest bed. Silence hangs over the house, your blood still rushing as you click the door shut and sink back against it. After a few moments you hear Nari’s voice. The Seo siblings never did know the definition of the word quiet, and you should move away, you know, but human nature prevails and you tilt your ear against the door.

“My best friend, Bin? Out of everyone in the goddamned world?” she mutters, her voice cold.

“Why is that a bad thing? Shouldn’t you be happy for us?” he insists. “And don’t cut her down like that, you’re gonna hurt her.”

“The truth hurts sometimes.”

“Not like that, it shouldn't.”

You hear her sigh in exasperation.

“We’re family, Bin. We’re part of each other’s lives, for good! When this ends in a fucking dumpster fire what then?”

“That’s not gonna happen.”

“As if you can guarantee that?! Don’t let some schoolboy fantasy ruin—"

“That’s not what this is. I care for her.”

Nari lets out a huff.

“Yeah, so end it then. This isn’t right.”

“No. The only thing that could ever convince me to let her go would be if she wanted to walk away from this,” he counters firmly.

“You know, she might.”

“Stop it.”

“Bin, you don’t know her as well as I do! She just got out of a really serious relationship - they were probably gonna get married. Can you see that happening with you? Marriage? A family? This is a fling for her.”

“No, Nari.”

“A young guy giving her attention when she’s low?” Nari’s voice goes high and tight. “Fuck! I hate this for both of you! It needs to stop before you really hurt each other.”

Changbin is silent for a long moment. When he speaks again, his voice shakes a little, and it makes you want to cry.

“It’s too late for that. If she leaves it will tear my heart out, and you know what? I don’t even care. Because she was dying inside. That asshole was killing her. And she let me hold her. She let me tell her she was beautiful and strong, and she believed me. So even if this has an expiration date for her…fuck, I’ll just be grateful for the rest of my life that she let me be the one to pick her up and put her on her feet.”

The room goes silent as the words that fell from his mouth sink in, and when his voice cuts through the thick of it again, you can hear his wet eyes and drawn brow.

“Nari, I love her.”

Your heart stops in your chest.

“Changbin…” Nari’s voice is softer in its surprise. 

You hear him draw in a long breath and sniff.

“Does she…fuck. Does she feel that way too?” she asks, much more gently.

“If she does, she’ll tell me when she’s ready.”

Another silence stretches between them.

“Shit…” Nari whispers, and you hear her get up and cross the room.

When no one speaks for a long time, you peep through the crack in the door to see your tiny best friend with her arms wrapped around her brother, and his face buried in her shoulder.

And suddenly, they’re twelve years younger, and Nari is crying on your bed - something she never does - telling you that Changbin blames himself for their parents’ divorce. Your ears echo with her worries, after a few drinks one night in grad school, about how her little brother carries a childishness with him because emotionally he never got to be one, always supporting their mother’s cares and then trying to be the man of the house when their father left, mourning that she doesn’t know how to set him free of it. You think back to three months ago on the floor of Nari’s living room where he saw you and held you as you shattered.

You catch your own gaze in the mirror above the bed across the room and you want to smash it to pieces - its reflection just another selfish person indulging in this precious soul’s exhausted strength and resilience while he continues to refuse himself permission to be weak.

Your purse and phone are still in the living room but you don’t care. You slip out and through the garage. You walk. And then you run.

You notice, when you come to a little park a few blocks away that your cheeks are wet. Trudging through the grass and onto the playground, you huddle yourself into the mouth of a tube slide.

You’re not going to hurt him anymore...and maybe Nari's right. Maybe caring for him means it means wounding him one last time.

After crying into your knees for what feels like an eternity, you hear the wood chips crunching under heavy steps.

You look up and see Changbin, hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans as he approaches you. He crouches down in front of you, close enough that his thighs brush your knees where they hook over the edge of the slide, and hands you your phone.

“You took off,” he murmurs, sounding a little wounded. “Don’t leave your phone like that, it’s not safe.”

You pull a hand over your swollen eyes.

“Sorry,” you whisper pathetically.

“Come on,” he tugs you up and out of the slide, but you don’t make it far. You collapse onto the low platform of the jungle gym.

“I…I can’t do this to you,” you choke.

“Do what?” he murmurs, sinking down beside you and pulling you into him.

You sob.

“Nari’s right, Bin. I’m so s-selfish. You’re always everyone’s r-rock, even when you shouldn’t have to be. Always the s-strong one. And I…I’m just dumping all my p-problems on you just like everyone else…I…”

He pulls your face back, hands on either side of your head as he gazes down at you, his brow drawn and his eyes searching your face.

“You think that’s what this is?” he asks in a raspy whisper. His lips curve up at one side and he huffs. “Dumping your problems on me?” He shakes his head. “Do you even realize…”

You blink up at him, sniffing. He draws a deep breath, his eyes flicking skyward before they meet yours again.

“When my dad left, who’d come over after school? Who brought me a candy bar and sat on my desk in my room and drove me crazy while I was trying to sulk over algebra homework every damn day for two straight weeks?” 

Your lips quirk into a ghost of a smile, you’d forgotten about that.

“And then when I graduated,” he continues, “And my family didn’t want me to chase music,” he runs a thumb over your cheek, “Who told me that they believed in me? That if anyone could do it, I could?”

You sigh, and bite your lip to repress another sob as you lean into his touch.

“Who is the prettiest, funniest, kindest woman in the world, who for some reason wants me to hold her and kiss her? Tells me her secrets…makes me feel…” his big strong hands are trembling as they cradle your face, “like I’m already the man I want to be?”

Fat tears are rolling down your cheeks.

“Bin…” you whisper in a desperate plea as you lean up to kiss him.

He presses his lips to yours again and again. 

“You’re not a burden…”

A kiss. 

“…You’re an angel.”

Another.

“You’re…”

“Changbin, I love you.”

His lips are suspended over yours where you whispered the confession, and for a moment he doesn’t move, as if refusing to disrupt the beautiful centimeters of space into which they had been uttered. He pulls back and stares at you, and for once, his eyes don’t sparkle. They crash over you, drowning you in the depths of their unchecked emotion. And you see it, what he’s been holding back - the strength and weakness, courage and fear, joy, sorrow, confidence, insecurity, passion, doubt - all of him, his whole heart, for you. 

“Me too,” he whispers, and you lean up on your knees and crush him in an embrace, bringing his head to your breast.

His arms wrap around your waist as he anchors himself to you, and you hold him.

You hold each other.

Glancing out of the kitchen window your eyes scan over dirt and cement of the backyard as you sort the last of the glasses into the cupboard. The landscaping of your new condo’s fairly sizable outdoor lot wasn’t much, but you could change that. You mentally schedule a trip to the nursery tomorrow - you’ll take Nari. She’s still warming up to things, but she’s getting there. Two days after the big conversation she’d taken you out for drinks and you’d tearfully hugged it out after a pitcher of margaritas.

You hear footsteps behind you, then a hand slips into your back pocket and lips press themselves below your ear.

“Chris says he’s sorry he couldn’t be back to help out,” Changbin mumbles against your skin.

You hum, moving toward the last box as your boyfriend follows your steps, hand still tucked into your jeans, as if he were a built-in attachment.

“I would have hated for the poor guy to have to use his first weekend back helping us move anyway,” you muse, opening a drawer and to find silverware tossed in a haphazard pile. “Who did this?”

“What?” Changbin looks over your shoulder. “Should it be somewhere else?”

Apparently having a bunch of twenty-something-year-old dudes help you move had its pros and cons. You open the box on the counter and fish out an organizer, handing it to Changbin.

“Chris actually extended his trip,” he says with a smirk, releasing you to stack spoons into one of the plastic slots.

“Oh?”

“Met a girl in the UK. Apparently things are moving kinda fast.”

“Yeah?” you smile over at him, “Good for Chris! What’s he said about her?”

“The usual Romeo stuff. Jisung calls her HP,” he snickers.

“Umm…Hewlett Packard? High priority?” you raise a brow at him, shrugging your shoulders.

“Hot piercings.”

You grin. “Nice.”

“Finished the studio,” he remarks, sliding the organizer into the drawer.

“Yeah?” You break down the cardboard box and toss it onto the stack of others. “Give me the tour!”

He shakes his head, clicking his tongue.

“I don’t think you should be allowed in there.”

“What! Why?” you huff, hands on your hips as Changbin turns and crowds you back against the edge of the sink.

“Because, I’ll never get anything done but you…” he growls, leaning in for a kiss, but you push him back.

“But you said I helped you pass algebra!”

He lets out a hearty laugh.

“I said you cheered me up - I almost failed that class.”

“Seriously?”

He smirks, raising a brow at you.

“Do you have any idea how hard it is to do math while a hot girl is sitting on your desk licking chocolate off her fingers?”

You roll your eyes theatrically.

“So where exactly am I allowed, hm?”

“My bed, for starters,” he quips, hitching onto the rim of the sink.

“Our bed,” you correct him with a grin, weaving your arms around his neck.

“Yeah…” he murmurs dreamily, leaning in to kiss you as your fingers tangle in his hair.

He pulls you off the counter, arms under your thighs, and you giggle into his mouth.

You don’t mind when he carries you these days. You don’t feel like a burden, and not just because he can take it. Because you know you’re holding him as much as he’s holding you - that in each other’s arms you’re safe.

In each other’s arms, you’re strong.

-Fin-

[t1red-twilight]

request fluff <3: everything has been going great since the wedding anniversary.

Art and reader are relaxed (like enjoy their time in the bathtub, in a couch or in bed, whatever you want ^^ ), they discuss everything and nothing, especially Art who declares all the reasons why he loves her so much (her qualities, her flaws, the feelings towards her, he knows everything like what she likes/love language/type emotions, what she makes him strong and what he makes her strong, the fact that they are there for each other...) and why he married her... this little discussion warms the reader's heart, moved, that she says nothing since she listens to him attentively, felt moved by Art's words :)

affection

content/warnings: gn!reader, fluff, cursing, non sexual nudity (bath)

notes: i imagined dilf!art, but there’s no kids. thank you so much for your request and your support! i followed your request closely, i hope you like it<3

word count: 1.2k

masterlist

you set down your things and took your coat off as you stepped through the threshold of yours and art’s home. the lights were dimmed, but you couldn’t find art anywhere.

as of late, art had become quite the househusband. he was taking a break from tennis to figure out where he wanted to take his career, whether that be continuing tennis, becoming a coach, or anything along the lines of just being a public figure. while he was straightening his thoughts out, he was really enjoying the domestic life.

“art?” you called out. at first you couldn’t hear him, so you repeated yourself. you proceeded to take off your shoes and walk further in. when you called out the second time, you heard him calling. you walked towards the sound of his voice, passing the flowers on the counter art had gotten last week for your anniversary.

it had already been three years since you and art had been married. you’d dated about five years before you both decided to tie the knot. everything had been, and was blissful. art was your person, and you liked to think that you were his.

art heard your feet softly padding down the hardwood down to the bedroom. you saw the light from the bathroom peeking out fro under the door. out of habit, you knocked before you entered. immediately, you heard art answer, “you can come in.”

he knew that you knew that it was okay to always come in, but you always insisted on knocking first. you know, just in case.

you opened the door to the bathroom and you were greeted with a quite content and pleasant sight. art was sitting in the balmy, warm bathroom in a bubble bath. the bubbles were just about up to his chin. on his face sat a cute little smile.

the floor was slick as you walked over to him. art spoke in a quiet tone, “hi.” you walked over to the side of the tub. when his body turned, the water swirled around him slowly.

“you look cozy,” you breathed. crouching down to his level, you brushed a piece of hair out of his eyes. “honey, how long have you been in here?” you chuckled, leaning down to kiss him on the forehead, noticing the thin layer of water on the edge of the tub.

he hummed while he thought for a second. “do you have the time?”

checking your watch, you stood. “it’s ten after nine.” you looked back down at him. he continued to think for a moment.

“eh, thirty minutes. give or take.” you chuckled lightly. how could the bathroom still be this warm after half an hour?

“is the water cold yet?” your voice held a playful tone; art just looked so blissed out and relaxed. you hoped he could stay like this forever.

“no. not even close. you want to come in?” you hesitated. you reached your hand into the water. just as he said, the water was just a couple degrees below scorching.

art wiggled his toes in what you thought was meant to be an enticing manner, but he just looked goofy more than anything. “c’mon, we’re not doing anything tomorrow.” he raised his eyebrows.

“yeah, sure. why not.” a grin spread across his face and you mirrored his gesture. “did you get a haircut today?”

“hmmm, perfect. i haven’t seen you all day. and, yes, i did. do you like it?” his response was casual, but he still had a slight furrowed brow.

your lips quirked up, “you look good with any haircut, art,” squatting once more to ruffle his hair as you spoke. his eyes held adoration for you that you only ever wanted to see from him. god, art was perfect. perfect for you, at least. and that was all that mattered.

“if you say so, i trust you. now get in.” he had a pleading look in his bright eyes, “please.” at his request, you began to strip yourself of your clothes. this was a casual act this far into your relationship. nudity wasn’t only sexual, but a calming act that brought you too closer every time. you set your clothes on the pile where art’s clothes sat.

you stepped into the bath with your left foot, then your right. art had scooted backward to make room for you. when you finally sat, you settled your body against his, your back

pressed against his chest. as soon as you relaxed against him, he wrapped his arms around your torso and held you close.

you leaned your head back onto his shoulder and sighed. god, if only every day could be like this. art leaned down and kissed your shoulder. “how was work?”

you chuckled sardonically. “same as usual. nothing super special or exciting.” you shrugged as best as you could. the warm water moved as art craned his head to look at you. “did you do anything today?”

he hummed in thought for a moment. “eh, nothing really. “i tried that new coffee place down the street. their lattes are pretty good. other than that, same old, same old,” art murmured.

you closed your eyes and just listened to him breathe for a moment. you could feel his heartbeat against your skin, it soothed you. you moved your arms to rest atop his. “the flowers are still doing good.”

“what flowers?” he questioned, pulling you impossibly closer to him.

“the ones you got for our anniversary?” you said coyly. maybe the slow life was catching up to him.

“oh, yeah.” he laughed. “my bad. i zoned out for a second.” you could feel him smile against your shoulder. “they were expensive. i hope they don’t die too fast.”

“i can’t believe it,” you whispered, “we’ve almost been together for a whole decade.”

art responded immediately. “i can. you’re the best person i’ve ever known. every day i get with you is more than i deserve.” he didn’t look at you; he didn’t need to. just being around you was enough.

“art, i-“

“i mean it.” the silence that followed was brief, until art broke it. “i love the way your nose scrunches when you laugh. i love how you always know what i’m thinking, and that you let me get you gifts even though i know you aren’t comfortable with being spoiled. i love that you love hugs, and that you’re always holding my hand.

“i love the scars you have even though you hate them. i love that you yell at shitty drivers. i love that you will always choose fast food over an expensive restaurant. i love the gleam in your eye when you’re talking about something you’re passionate about. you’re always there for me, bo matter what. i love that you love me. i love you, so much. that’s why i married you, after all.”

halfway through his speech, you turned to look at him. passion swirled in his eyes, and you knew that you didn’t need to say anything.

art always knew what to say; especially on days like this one.

you leaned in closer to him, and kissed him briefly. you felt his hand cup your jawline and he thumbed a tear off of your cheek.

yes, art was perfect for you. that you could never deny.

[bigtreefest]

Sick of It

Pairing: Boyfriend! Steve Rogers x Girlfriend! Reader one-shot

Summary: Steve looks good in everything and you’re sick of it. That, among other things.

Word count: 1,784

Content/warnings: Crying, comfort, angry feelings, kissing, mentions of body image issues, swears, snacks, non-sexual semi-nudity

A/N: I wrote this a couple weeks ago while I was feeling like absolute crap. I was so stressed and just wanted someone to hold. I know too many people relate. I think Steve would’ve been such a sweetie for this kind of moment.

Comments, likes, reblogs, and asks are so appreciated. Thank you for reading!!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Main Masterlist

“I’m so fucking done.”

You slammed the door to the pantry as Steve looked over his shoulder at you from his spot on the couch.

“Honey, what’s wrong?” His words trailed down to you as stomped down the hall and slammed the door to his room.

Steve sighed and tossed the blanket off his lap, softly padding after you down the corridor. He leaned against the doorframe before lightly knocking with the knuckle of his pointer finger.

“Hey, you alright?” He faintly heard the sliding of his dresser drawers, frantically paired with the sound of clanging hangers in his closet.

Steve opened the door slowly to be met with the sight of you half naked, hoodie stretched over your one arm and head, only accompanied on your body by your socks and underwear.

You grumbled and sighed before pulling the hoodie fully down over your body, looking in the mirror before ripping it off and throwing it at him. Steve didn’t flinch, catching the beige hoodie he had been given in a stylist’s attempt to take him on as a client.

Steve had many pieces of clothing like that: obscure fashion pieces gifted to him because of his celebrity status. To a normal person, they were impractical and weird. Odd shapes for an odd body. They’d only look good on someone as hot as him, broad shoulders, skinny waist, and all. Any time you’d try to put on a piece of the clothing, you felt like it hugged your curves in all the wrong ways.

You sighed, but it was deep and guttural, bordering on a scream. The way every piece of clothing, which looks so trendy and stylish on Steve, draped over your hips in a weird way, drove you nuts. The colors didn’t look as good, the shape was meant for someone else.

You flopped down on the bed, still only in your underwear, as Steve grabbed a hanger, placing the hoodie on it and hanging it back in the closet.

He walked over to you, slotting his legs in between yours which swung off the bed. He leaned forward over you until his arms framed your head, one hand on each side, careful to miss your hair that was sprawled out over the comforter.

When you opened your eyes, you were greeted by a sea of blue. You wanted to melt instantly at the care and concern that Steve’s eyes held, before you remembered why you were so upset.

You rolled on your side with a groan, hiding your face in the plush covers before Steve did his best to brush the hair out of your way.

He continued to softly rub his thumb against your temple. “Jellybean, you wanna tell me what’s going on? What’s got you so upset?”

You sighed before speaking into the blanket covering your mouth. Even Steve’s super soldier hearing couldn’t decipher the muffled sounds.

“Can you try again for me? I didn’t quite catch that.”

You turned slightly and threw your hands over your face in exasperation before peeking through your fingers at the face full of love and kindness that was always waiting on the other side.

“I’m sick of it.” It came out still muffled by your palm, but understandable this time. Steve nodded in an attempt to understand.

“Sick of what, honey? Anything I can fix? Or at least help with?” He helped you up, sitting next to you on the mattress. He attempted to pull you into his lap before your stopped him, pushing his arms off of you.

“No! Stop it, you’re the problem.”

Steve was taken aback. He would never do anything to hurt you, not even accidentally, so he had no idea where this was coming from. He cautiously continued.

“I’m really sorry, bean. What did I do?”

You shook your head before it fell into your hands, tears threatening to dampen the heels of your palms while you sniffled,sucking your emotions back in. You took a deep breath before looking up at him with red eyes.

“You know what? Actually, nothing. I’m overreacting. Forget about it. Maybe I should just go.”

You stood up and began to gather your clothes from the floor when Steve stood to stop you, holding your hands against his chest.

“Wait, Jellybean, come on. If-“

You threw down your hands, releasing them from his grip as you continued to look down at your feet.

“Quit calling me that!! That’s the problem!! I’m not a jellybean!”

His head cocked to the side in confusion. “Honey, what do you mean? I thought you liked that nickname…”

You shook your head as Steve crouched down in an attempt to meet your gaze. “No, because a jellybean would fit in your clothes and look good. And I don’t at all right now.”

Steve cautiously moved a hand to your cheek, finally able to look into your eyes. “Hey, what happened? Did someone say something to you? Did I? If I did anything to make you feel like that, I’m so sorry. You’re so perfect in every single way, what’s making you feel differently?”

His other hand went to your other cheek and you grabbed his wrists, looking down again, kicking your feet. Your next words came out as a whisper. “Everything sucks. I’m exhausted, and my eyes keep twitching because of it. I couldn’t focus to save my life today. I thought coming over here would make me feel better, and I looked in your pantry to see if you had any of the good snacks and of course you don’t because you’re Mr. Healthy! None of your clothes fit or look good on me! I mean, why do your even own half this stuff!? So many pairs of fake glasses, your eyesight’s perfect-no. Better than perfect! You make stuff that’s not even fashionable or practical look good and I’m sick of it!” You were practically yelling now, your words growing in volume the more you kept going.

Steve simply nodded, letting you vent as much as you needed to and taking it all in. He knew he didn’t have good snacks, he had asked if you wanted him to pick up your favorites when grocery shopping last week and you said ‘no, that’s not necessary. I probably shouldn’t tempt myself anyways. I’m trying to be healthier.’ He should’ve gone with his gut. He wouldn’t blame that on you, though.

He knew his clothes were ridiculous, too, but he kept them around because he thought you liked them. And he loved the way they looked on you.

He also knew the game you liked to play of ‘is it a fit or are they just hot,’ looking at the ridiculous clothes designer brands would release and judging whether or not they were high fashion, or just on a person with a nice body. He had just never thought he would be the subject of it, or that it would bring you down this much.

Steve knew you hadn’t been sleeping well for the past month, too, but hadn’t said anything. He could feel the way you tossed and turned at 3am, before you finally fell asleep again an hour later, only to be woken up shortly after by the alarm clock.

You looked up again after Steve had been quiet for too long. You let out a deep sigh. “I’m sorry, Stevie. I think I’m just taking this all out on you because you’re here. Everything but you is wrong today, and I’m taking it out on the one thing that’s here.”

You shook your head, profusely apologizing before Steve pulled you in close against his chest. He kissed the top of your head as he rubbed your back.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Thank you for talking to me. I’m not the enemy here. I’m your teammate. Thank you for letting me in.”

“It just isn’t fair.” You spoke into his chest before looking up into his eyes again.

“Even when you’re concerned you’re still hot, too.” You rolled your eyes before throwing your forehead back in between his firm pecs.

“Steven. Fix it.” Came out mumbled in his shirt.

Steve laughed and nodded before kissing the top of your head again. “I think I have just the thing. Hold on.”

He meant that literally. Steve stood up fully and you wrapped your legs around him, clinging like a koala, as he walked back over to the closet. The fact that he did it so effortlessly made you feel a little better about yourself, but a super soldier could probably do that with anyone.

He browsed the rack and shelves before he found what he was looking for. “Ah, here it is. They let me keep these after I had to pose as part of a construction crew for a mission. Regular people clothes. None of that high fashion bullshit.”

You laughed against his neck before he set you down on the bed. He kissed the tip of your nose before sliding a dark gray sweatshirt over your head and sinking down to his knees to pull the light gray sweatpants up your legs. They fit just how your wanted and you beamed at him.

“Better?” You nodded.

“Perfect. Thank you, Stevie.”

He gave you a wink. “Of course, jellybean. I think these fit you just right, but maybe your outfit’s missing something. I might still have the reflective vest around here somewhere, or maybe you need a good pair of fake glasses to top it off?”

You giggled and pushed his shoulder. “Absolutely not. I think the only thing that could make this better is if you had real snacks in the pantry.”

Just then, the both of you heard a knock on the door. You perked up and looked over Steve’s shoulder before raising an eyebrow at him. Steve looked back at you sheepishly.

“I think your prayers have been answered. I texted Buck and asked him to pick up your favorites the second I heard you huffing while searching through the cabinets.”

You smiled before wrapping your arms around his neck and giving him a kiss on the cheek.

“Thank you. You’re perfect, even if it’s a little infuriating how much so.”

Steve laughed and wrapped his arms around you again, carrying you towards the front door to retrieve the package. “Perfection means nothing if I can’t use it to make your life better. I love you, Jellybean.”

You smiled as he set you down on the couch and handed you a bag of snacks before cuddling close and pulling the soft throw blanket back over the two of you. You placed your hand gently on his cheek. “I love you more, Stevie.”

Bonus A/N: What’s your favorite snack/candy? I’m currently rocking with those nerds gummy clusters. So good.

General Taglist: @hawkeyes-queen

[thelargefrye]

CLEOPATRA … mature one - shot | part one

pairing : ateez x f!reader

genre : mature, fantasy, royalty, ancient egypt inspired setting, smut

word count : 6k

warnings : language, heavy nudity (sexual and non-sexual), yn is viewed as a descendant of the gods, infidelity (its a loveless marriage but they are still married), drinking

smut warnings : unprotected sex, multiple smut scenes (3 total), slight exhibitionism, oral (f), mentions of past pregnancy sex, some of the guys have a breeding kink, masturbation, slight cum eating

honorary suffer tag : @sanjoongie

inspired by this tiktok.

you had power that no man could ever imagine. as such you bowed to no one. you were known throughout the continent as the ruler that would protect her country no matter the cost.

hongjoong let out a frustrated sigh, a hand running through his black locks as he walked down one of the many corridors of the extravagant palace. he walks in long strides, ignoring all the servants that pause and bow at him. he'll feel bad about not acknowledging them later, but right now he's on a mission.

he approaches your private quarters, yunho standing guard outside of your chambers doors like always. that's tells him that you are at least in your chambers. wherever you are is where yunho will always be.

when hongjoong comes closer to your chambers, that's when yunho finally turns to look at the first prince consort. his eyes sharp and always on guard.

"her highness is a little busy at the moment, your highness," yunho's voice is just as stoic as his eyes, cold and on guard.

"i don't care, this is important," hongjoong brushes him off and yunho does nothing to stop him from entering. not that he would anyways, hongjoong is one of the few people aside from yourself that the guard would listen to.

hongjoong doesn't waste a second in bursting through the doors to your quarters. the highly decorated chambers shows how you are the ruler of isis and descendant of the gods. the gold lining the room was something one of the first rulers of the country had done in order to show how important and godly they were. hongjoong remembers you mentioning several times how you hate the over the top gold in the room and how you desperately want it gone.

however, your father would probably come back from the underworld if you ever tried to change anything about the pharaoh's private quarters.

hongjoong is knocked out of his thoughts when he is greeted by the sight of you riding wooyoung. hongjoong can't help but feel his mouth run dry at the sight of you energetically bouncing on wooyoung's cock. your breast bouncing and he watches wooyoung squeeze one of them, the other slapping your ass and gripping and squeezing the flesh tightly. hongjoong feels himself getting hard from the scene in front of him. you always looked like you were glowing when one of them fucked you.

a beautiful goddess surrounded with nothing but love and he would gladly worship you for the rest of his life if he could.

but not right now, right now he needed to speak with you.

"y/n," his voice breaks through the lustful atmosphere in the room. you turn your head to look at your first husband, a parchment gripped in his hands from the news he had received from a guard. you falter your speed for a second, distracted by hongjoong's appearance and wooyoung takes this moment to flip the two of you over.

your head now at the foot of large, silk covered bed, legs now bent over the top half of your body as wooyoung pounds into your pussy. his hips moving at a first pace that has your eyes rolling back from the feeling. you can feel him hitting the deepest parts of your pussy, almost like he was about to penetrate into your womb. not that you would mind.

"ho-hong-joong~" you moan out, looking at your husband, mouth open in the perfect o-shape.

"hey, hey, hey! don't be saying his name when i'm balls deep inside of you!" wooyoung pouted making you whine when he did an extra hard thrust inside of you.

"y/n, something urgent has come up," hongjoong says, completely ignoring the fact that you and wooyoung were still fucking.

"w-what's wrong?" you ask, watching as hongjoong moves closer to you and wooyoung, now standing the end of the bed. you have to crane your head back in order to look at him upside down. you notice the look of concern over his face and you use one of your hands to reach for his. intertwining your hands together.

"there's been news about the minerva empire wanting to invade isis and take over," hongjoong says. "some of our spies have sent word about minerva's emperor planning something."

"minerva's emperor? isn't he that old bastard who was about to keel over?" you ask, remembering the emperor seonghwa had described to you during his travels several years ago.

"apparently he died two years ago and their new emperor is suppose to be this great war general. they've been invading and conquering smaller countries, adding to their empire," hongjoong tells you and the sudden news of this former war general has caught your attention.

it seems to have caught wooyoung's as well, as your second husband has seemingly stopped fucking you in favor of listening to hongjoong. wooyoung moves off of you in favor of relaxing against the silk pillows that laid fluffed at the head of your bed. you sat up, turning to face hongjoong with neither you nor wooyoung opting to cover up your bare bodies.

"a new emperor?" you said, tilting your head in wonder at this news. "i'm not worried, joongie, isis is a great empire that can not be invaded that easily," you tell him, running your hand down his chest. your fingers grazing over the soft fabric of his tunic.

"but y/n this is serious!" you notice the worry in his tone at the thought of the minerva empire even thinking of invading your home, his home, and your daughter's home.

"joong–

"why don't you just invite this new emperor here and throw a banquet for him?" wooyoung speaks up after having remained silent. you both turn to see wooyoung lounging behind you, hands behind his head like he had no care in the world. "if you invite him and show off the amount of power you and isis hold, then maybe that will make him think twice about invading."

"you mean assert dominance?" hongjoong asks and wooyoung nods.

"wow, wooyoung, that's pretty smart," you say, a teasing smile on your face as your crawl towards him and settle down next to him.

wooyoung lets out a small 'tsk' sound at your words, "give me more credit, dove, i'm smarter than i look," he teases back, wrapping his arms around you.

"joongie, call seonghwa and my advisor. let's send out an invite to our new little emperor," you say, a smile overtaking your features. hongjoong looks like he wants to say something, and you wait for him to but he changes his mind. he simply nods his head before turning heading for the door to summon seonghwa and your advisor.

seonghwa was a little worried when a servant had come to him while he was with his daughter, telling him that you had summoned him. his daughter's nanny was quick to take her out of his arms. seonghwa makes sure to press a quick kiss to the top of her head before he is bidding her goodbye and taking his leave.

when he approaches your chambers, jongho trailing behind him, he is greeted with the sight of yunho and yeosang both standing guard now at your door.

"is everything alright?" seonghwa asks the two guards.

yeosang is the one to speak up to answer the consort, "the pharaoh as requested for you and her advisor. prince consort hongjoong and prince consort wooyoung are already inside."

seonghwa can't help but raise his eyebrow at the guard's words, but nonetheless goes into your quarters. when he enters, he finds you and wooyoung wrapped in your golden robes, it being quite obvious that you are bare underneath. you're sitting at your table by the balcony doors which are open and letting in the warm afternoon air. hongjoong is standing next to you and wooyoung is still on your bed.

your advisor is sitting on a stool next you, writing your words down as you say them.

"what's going on?" seonghwa asks, earning the attention of everyone in the room, say for your advisor.

"her highness and wooyoung have had the amazing idea of inviting the enemy into our home to throw him a banquet," hongjoong says and you can all hear the irritation in his voice. you ignore him.

"there's rumors of the minvera empire and their new emperor wanting to invade isis, so i'm inviting him to show him that it is not something he wants to do," you explain to seonghwa, watching as he comes up to you.

seonghwa takes your hand, pressing a firm kiss to it before he is sitting down in chair across from you. "new emperor?" he asks, echoing your words and he sees hongjoong nod his head.

"apparently he's a great war general. what did you say his name was?" you ask, looking towards hongjoong and your advisor.

"san," hongjoong answered.

"ah, yes! emperor san," you say, a bright smile on your face; however, you three husbands can tell how this is not a genuine smile and that you are hiding something behind it. something that none of them have figured out yet.

"san..." seonghwa says trailing off, trying to remember if he's heard that name before. "ah! that's the name of the general that led minerva into victory during their takeover of the apollo kingdom," seonghwa says once the memory finally came to him.

"oh? that was him?" you ask, sounding impressed by the information you just learned.

"y/n, are you sure you want to invite him? what if they try to attack while inside the kingdom?" seonghwa asks, voice his concern that both him and hongjoong now have.

"hmm," you trail off for a moment, not saying anything, but clearly thinking, "yunho!" your voice is loud and commanding and the doors to your chamber open to the sight of your personal guard coming into the room.

you beckon the guard over and he walks to you before kneeling down next to you, "yes, my pharaoh?" he asks, eyes looking downward to the ground as to not disrespect you. it was known that anyone that wasn't one of your consort husbands could never make eye contact. it was forbidden to look at a descendant of the gods like they were on the same level as any other human.

"if there was an enemy inside the kingdom, would you kill them the second they tried to bring harm to me and the kingdom?" you ask, hand combing through the guard's dark locks and brushing them away from his eyes. despite him not making eye contact with you, you can't help but admire yunho's eyes.

"yes, my pharaoh. i would kill anyone for you," he says making a large grin stretch onto your face as you look from your personal guard to your two worried husbands.

"woobin," your advisor snaps to attention at the call of his name, "finish writing and send out the invitation to emperor san immediately."

"i can't believe the bastard agreed to come," hongjoong says as he lets out an annoyed sigh despite sinking into the warm water of the large bath that him, seonghwa, and wooyoung shared.

the bathhouse was the one place that you never entered, it was only for the prince consorts and any sons that they had with you. a place for only them to sit and relax in. the place decorated like the rest of the castle, after you had made servants redo the bath after your father and grandfather had left it to basically fall apart. your husbands deserved a place to relax in peace and you would be damned if they had to suffer through a bathhouse room like your mother and your father's other wives had to.

"of course he did, it was an open invitation to come and take a look at the country without the worry of losing men," seonghwa says as he relaxed next to hongjoong who had a deep frown on his face. "y/n knows what she's doing, maybe we should just trust her," he adds.

"she has a plan, i could tell from her face," hongjoong sighs, "i'm just annoyed that i don't know what she's thinking."

"have a little more faith in our pharaoh, you two," wooyoung's voice echos as he walks into the bath. hongjoong can't help but roll his eyes at wooyoung who is once again naked, not bothering to even cover himself with a towel like the other two have.

"wooyoung, can you be any more shameful?" seonghwa asks, looking away from the younger male who walks down the white marble steps and into the water.

"yah, don't be jealous, hwa, green isn't your color," wooyoung teases as he settles into the water. "but i think you two are doubting y/n. she knows what she's doing, she has been pharaoh for a while now," he adds looking at his fellow consorts.

"i'm just worried is all. i don't want anyone to be in danger," seonghwa says voicing his main concern. he's worried that this emperor will try to not only harm you but also your children. he would die if something happened to his daughter.

"you're not the only one worried, hwa," wooyoung says, snapping the eldest out of his thoughts. "i'm worried about the enemy coming here as well, but i also trust y/n."

"i guess you're right," hongjoong says, finally speaking back up after watching the two go back and forth. "we should trust y/n and her decisions, but the worry will still be there."

you couldn't help the breathy moan that ripped through your throat as you threw your head back onto the lush amount of pillows. you had to try your best to not close your legs around yunho's head, knowing that he would stop if you didn't keep your legs open.

his tongue continued to lick your pussy, at this point basically making out with your lower lips. his nose continuously nudging your clit and adding to the stimulation that coursed through your lower half, sending a warmth through your entire body.

"hmm~ yunho!" you moan out, tugging at his dark locks causing him to let out a groan that vibrates through you. you felt yunho's hands come up to grip your thighs, massaging and digging his fingers into the flesh. you feel his tongue flicking in and out of you before he's flattening his tongue and licking up your pussy.

you feel your eyes roll back, head tilting, and back arching thanks to the pleasurable feeling. sometimes you can't believe how good yunho makes you feel, mainly because of how cold and emotionless he is when on duty. yet despite the harsh stare he gives you while eating your pussy, he still manages to make your toes curl.

"does that feel good, pharaoh?" he asks, tone deep and breath warm as it fans over your slowly heating up skin.

"mmh, yes~ please keep going," you tell him and he chuckles before diving back in. "so good," you breath out softly.

you were honestly still surprised by how willing yunho was to please you since the beginning. always taking care of you even when you were pregnant. you remember settling between his legs and letting his calloused hands roam your body and touch you.

"yu-yunho?" your voice breaks through the peaceful silence that the two of you had set. you look down at your guard to find him looking up at you. his eyes boring into your own, as it was the only time he could look at you like how your husbands do. because in this moment he wasn't your guard, but your lover. "do you think– fuck, right there– do you think... that i shouldn't have, mmh, invited e-emperor san?"

that questioning had been weighing on you since that conversation weeks ago. the way hongjoong and seonghwa were against it made you want to reconsider everything, yet you need to make sure this new emperor of the minerva empire knew not to mess with you. you were the pharaoh of isis, you had a duty to look powerful and protect your country and people. your husbands included.

you watch as yunho pulls away from your pussy before he's sitting up and resting on his knees. his face void of emotions like it always was.

"what would you like to hear, my pharaoh?" he asks and you make an annoyed huff sound before rolling your eyes at him.

"your honest opinion," you tell him.

yunho hums before he's casually lifting your leg up, letting your calf rest on his shoulder. he presses a few kisses to your leg as it looks like he's in thought.

"i think that if you did it for a reason then my pharaoh shouldn't worry about any danger the emperor of minerva might bring. you cannot change the past, but you can change the future," he says as his hand comes up to cup your heat, running his fingers through your drenched folds.

"gosh, who knew you could be so wise," you huff out with a teasing tone.

"i can be very wise if my pharaoh wants me to be, or i can be as savage as the rest of my people," he says, repeating words that many people of isis have said about yunho's people.

"would being a savage get you to fuck me?" you question, tilting your head to the side as you looked up at your guard who towered over you in this moment.

"if i fuck my pharaoh like a savage, i can't guarantee i won't get you pregnant with my savage heir," he says as you watch him remove the fabrics that covered his lower half and his hard cock standing tall and proud and waiting to breed.

"hmm, that sounds nice, that means i get to keep you to myself. i am a very selfish pharaoh after all. would you fill me up and give me my first bastard child," you say and yunho licks his lips before he's using the head of his cock to tease and rub between your folds. slicking you up with his pre-cum.

"i'll do whatever my pharaoh wants," he tells you making a cheshire grin spread across your lips as you felt him enter you.

"ah! welcome, emperor san, it is a pleasure to met you," you say, a welcoming smile on your face as you watched the male walk up the large stoned steps of the palace in order to approach you.

you had to admit that san was a handsome man. his jaw was sharp and defined and his skin was sun-kissed. his feline-like eyes darting around and looking at his surroundings before they settle on your form. his eyes rack over your silk covered body and you notice how he faintly licks his lips before he stoping a good distance in front of you.

"of course," his voice is strong like the rest of him, "i was pleasantly surprised when i received your invitation, pharaoh," he adds, hands coming to rest behind his back. his shoulders are straight and you notice how his muscles bulge underneath his tunic and armor. fuck, you could definitely see the former war general side of him when he stands like this.

"well, i just wanted to congratulate and get to know the new emperor of minerva. even if i am two years late which i apologize for," you say, a bashful smile on your lips, but san easily brushes the comment off.

"it's quite alright, pharaoh. better late than never, and i do love a party, especially when it's in my honor," he says making you laugh.

"shall we go inside then? my servants will show your men to their rooms before being escorted to the banquet hall," you tell him and san nods his head taking several steps forward before he's offering you his arm which you happily take.

"does this mean i get a private tour by the great pharaoh goddess herself, then?" he asks, a smirk overtaking his lips and you let out a small hum at his question.

"of course, nothing but the best for my honorary guest," you tell him as you both walk into the palace, the swarm of people following behind the two of you.

"and this is where my consorts' quarters are located," you say and you notice how this catches san's attention.

"how many consorts do you have?" he asks.

"i have three; hongjoong, wooyoung, and seonghwa," you say feeling a sense of pride as you speak of your husbands. even if was just saying their names.

"do you love your husbands?" you're a little surprised by his question but you do your best to hide your surprise.

"yes, i love them very much," you tell him and san can only nod his head at your answer as you both continue to walk. "are you married?"

"i am. i have a wife, siyeon," he says and you notice how he doesn't seem as energetic to talk about her like you are about your husbands.

"i'm sure she's very beautiful," you tell him with a soft smile and san can only nod. "do you have any children?"

"no. none yet," he answers sharply and you make note about how he doesn't want to talk about his wife.

"tell me, emperor san," you begin, earning his attention, "do you like to fuck or make love?" now this question caught him off guard, and you had to try hard to suppress your grin. "or which one do you prefer? fucking or making love?" you're teasing him now and you can tell that san is quick to catch on to your tone.

"i like to fuck," he says taking a deep breath as he watches you run a hand down his arm, his muscles twitching under your touch. "but i would prefer to make love. let it be raw and real," he adds and you let a small smile grace your lips.

"do you fuck your wife? or do you need someone else to pleasure you?" you ask, your hand coming to rest around the back of his neck. your fingers playing with the ends of his hair.

"it depends," he begins lower his face closer to yours so your lips are inches a part, "is her highness offering to let me fuck her raw in her own private quarters?"

"it depends," you say mimicking his words, "tomorrow night when the moon is at its highest. i'll be waiting for you," you tell him. "but right now everyone is waiting for us, it would be rude to keep your men waiting," you say, slipping away from him as you begin to walk towards the banquet hall, leaving san to catch up with you.

when you and san entered the banquet hall, many of the isis nobles and soldiers from minerva seemed to be chattering and enjoying themselves. you were quick to notice hongjoong, wooyoung, and seonghwa sitting in their spots near the head of the table. however, a spot to your right was left open in order for san to sit next to you.

"i made sure to prepare a mixture of classic foods from both isis and minerva, in order to add some variety and flavor for everyone here," you explain as you and san walk down the table. the nobles from your country bowing as you walked by while the soldiers from minerva bowed to san.

"i'm impressed with how much you prepared, pharaoh," he says and you smile at him as you gesture to his seat next to hongjoong and across from wooyoung. you take your seat at the head of the table and look to see all the nobles still bowing their heads as they wait for you to speak.

"please, continue enjoying yourselves. this is a celebration for our honored guest," you say with a smile and the nobles are quick to obey your words.

"and these are my beautiful consort husbands," you say with a smile as your gesture to the three males. "the one beside you is hongjoong, the one across from you is wooyoung, and next to him is seonghwa."

wooyoung smiled at you as he pressed a kiss to the back of your hand. his fingers intertwining with yours as you continued your conversation with san. you noticed how san looked at your and wooyoung's hands before his eyes flickered up to meet yours.

"a pleasure to meet you three," he says with a firm smile, and the tree males all return the smile with firm ones of their own.

the banquet continues as you planned it would. many of the nobles and soldiers drinking and eating to their hearts content for the next few hours. entertainment in the background going on with music and dancers. you and san watched as some of his men attempted to dance like some of your dancers, but failed miserably due to their drunkenness. his second in command, mingi was probably the only one not to fail miserably, but still struggled to keep up.

eventually, wooyoung even got up and was able to dance. you couldn't help the smile that painted your lips as you watched him move effortlessly in time with the music.

"wow, he's really good at dancing," san says as you both watch your second husband.

"wooyoung was originally a dancer before i married him. he could dance to anything whether sober or drunk," you brag and san only nods his head at your words.

it was only a few hours later when most of san's men had dragged themselves and each other to their rooms. several servants following after them to help them find their way. at the same time, the nobles also stumbled out of the palace as they made their way back to their own homes.

you personally escorted san back to his room and before you could bid him goodnight, he's pulling you in close to him. your nose squished against his as he lips ghosted over yours from how close you both where.

"be prepared for me, i plan on making it raw and real," he says, before he's letting you go and licking his lips.

"of course, emperor san, i'll be waiting. goodnight," you say, before you turn on your heel and walk back down the grand corridor. making sure to let your hips sway as you walked away.

when you returned to your own quarters, you were not surprised to find your three lovers waiting for you. you let out a sigh as you walked past them and over to your vanity in order to start removing your jewelry and makeup.

"what's your plan, y/n?" hongjoong asks as you both look at each other through your mirror.

"i'm going to get him to marry me," you say, turning to look at your husband. "then we will have a strong ally," you add.

"that was your plan this whole time?" hongjoong asks, voice raising as he is complete applaud by your words.

"no, i didn't think of it until i saw him. i knew i wanted to become allies but knowing he's in a loveless marriage just makes this plan even better."

"you're a nasty woman," wooyoung says a wide grin on his face, his hyena laugh echoing through your quarters. "i love it," he adds making you giggle as you finish removing your makeup. you then stand up and begin to undress. letting your dress fall and become a puddle around your ankles leaving you bare to your three husbands.

"this is a bad idea, y/n," hongjoong says as you come up to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you. your body flush against his clothed one. a chill runs down your spine when you feel his cold hands run over your skin. "what happens if this plan fails?"

"it won't fail. i won't let it," you tell him, pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips. "i already have him falling into my grasp. i'm close to getting somewhere."

"trust her, joong. if he fucks the god pussy then he won't be able to say no to her," wooyoung says, speaking up from his place on your bed. you turn to give wooyoung a sneaky grin which he returns. "i should know, once you fuck god pussy, you won't want nothing else but it."

"have more respect for your wife and pharaoh, wooyoung," seonghwa says finally speaking up for the first time tonight.

"don't be pissy, hwa, you're just mad you haven't fucked her in a while," wooyoung throws back and you realize that he's right.

it has been a while since you and seonghwa have been together. pulling away from hongjoong, you quickly make yourself comfortable between seonghwa's legs. kneeling between your husband, you let your hands run up and down his thighs as he looks down at you.

"what do you think, hwa? do you trust me?"

"o-of course, love, i trust you and i believe you know what you are doing," he says and you smile before kissing the skin of his thigh that was peeking underneath his tunic.

"when are you going to talk to him?" hongjoong asks as he watches you slowly trail your hands up, moving seonghwa's tunic up as you do so.

"he's going to visit me tomorrow night."

"i wasn't expecting you to be this prepared when waiting for me," san says with a smirk as he enters your chambers to the sight of you touching yourself. your middle and ring fingers covered in your slick juices as you slide them in and out of your wet pussy. the heat of your core sending pleasurable chills up your spine.

"f-figured i'd give you a personal show," you say with a smile as you watch san stalk closer to you. he easily unties and discards the robe that was around him, showing you that he was wearing nothing underneath it. his half hard cock slowly growing the more he watched you.

he stood at the foot of your bed, watching as you continued to fuck yourself before he was crawling onto the bed and closer to you. san watched with sharp eyes as you used your free hand to grope your breast. squeezing the flesh of your tit and pinching your nipple and tweaking it.

san couldn't help but groan when he watched you remove your fingers to see them coated in your juices. he quickly grasped your wrist before popping your fingers into his mouth. his tongue wrapping around your digits, cleaning them before he's removing them with a clean pop. you couldn't help the stuttered moan that left your lips.

"so," he begins as he crawls up body, his hands pressing into the silk sheets below you as he props himself up. "why does the beautiful pharaoh want to have her pussy fucked by someone like me? compared to your husbands, i'm definitely not your type of man," he says, lips ghosting over yours as he speaks.

"i love sex, i'll fuck whoever i want," you reply making him chuckle before he's sitting up and positioning himself between your legs.

"yeah? then you'll let me fuck you? what happens if i get you pregnant with my heir?" he asks as he positions himself, the head of his cock teasing your entrance and running between your folds. you let out a loud cry as you felt him thrust his cock inside of you in one thrust. your back arches as san has your legs propped onto your shoulders.

his pace is immediate and ruthless. almost animalistic like his primal instincts are taking over as he fucks you.

"f-fuck san!" you shout, not caring who hears. not caring about how yunho is outside your door right now, listening as san pounds away at your pussy, using it how he pleases.

"what will happen if– if i fill you up full of my cum? leave you nice and full for the rest of my stay here?" he looks hypnotized as he watches your breast bounce with each of his thrust.

"do you want an heir? w-want a child between the two of us, something– fuck! something you don't have with your wife back in minerva?" you taunt him and san groans as he rolls his head back at your words.

you let out a loud gasp, back arching as your mouth forms a perfect o-shape and san knows he hit a sweet spot. he can't help but think you look beautiful especially like this.

"s-so, i've heard you wa-want to– fuck, form an alliance between isis and minerva," he says and you can't help but run your hands down his chest.

"y-yeah, i want to combine our powers," you tell him as you pull him closer to you, you clench hard around his cock and san has to keep himself from feeling lost in the feelings of your pussy sucking him in.

"combine our powers?" he echoes, hips continue to drill into you as the room is overpowered with the sounds of skin on skin mixed with your heavy moans.

"we– we could be unstoppable," you tell him as you feel yourself growing closer to your climax.

"you think so? is that why you want my cock?" he teases as you clench once more around him. "i'd fill your cunt with my cum as our two empires become allies, is that all you really want?"

with one final thrust, its enough to have you coming around him. your walls tighten around his cock and it makes it almost impossible for him to continue moving in that moment. he lets out a deep groan at the tightness but ignores it in order to continue his movements. his thrusts prolonging your orgasm. he wants to extend it just a little longer. wants to extend the feeling of you two connected and as one. something he's never felt before, especially with his wife.

"s-san," you call out his name before he's crashing his lips onto yours. he can tell how fucked out you're becoming the longer he continues to abuse your poor pussy.

he doesn't ever want this feeling of raw emotions to stop. san's decided that he likes feeling like this.

"f-fuck, why does your pussy feel so good," he groans as he continues to thrust into you. your moans like music to his ears as he continues to listen to you let out breathy moan and call out his name. despite being a drooling and moaning mess beneath him, san thinks you look breathtaking.

"s-san, lets becoming one," you say and san groans at your words. he does a particularly harsh and deep thrust and you swear that it hits the entrance to your womb. you feel your eyes roll back as you clench tightly around his cock.

"sure, lets... lets become one, my pharaoh," he says as he looks at you with an equally fucked out face.

"please..." you begin to say, "call me y/n," you finish and san smiles at your words.

"y/n... y/n, y/n, y/n!" with every pronounce of your name, he does an equally harsh thrust into your leaking and abused pussy. you feel san begin to stutter in his thrusts before he's finally coming with a cry of your name. you can't help but come one more time as you feel san paint your walls with his thick cum.

you know everyone in the palace will know what the two of you did tonight, but you don't care. you had san wrapped around your finger and it was only a matter of time before you officially became as one.

san let out a groan as he rolled onto his back next to you. a layer of sweat covering his golden body making it look shiny as he relaxed into your sheets. you turn onto your side, immediately cuddling up next to him and he has a blissed out smile on his face as he holds you close.

"was that raw and real enough for you?" you tease, a hand coming up to trace the toned muscles of his chest and abs. "so about that alliance..."

"fuck..." is all he says before you're moving to straddle him. "i want you to come visit minerva in a months time and there we can... discuss this alliance."

you can't help the smirk that graces your lips before you're leaning down to press a kiss to his lips. you couldn't wait to rub it into hongjoong and seonghwa's faces about how your plan was coming along smoothly.

maybe wooyoung was right about not being able to say no to the god pussy after all.

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[minniesmutt]

♱ ━━━━━━ 𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋: 𝐋𝐄𝐓'𝐒 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐍 

♱ ━━━ CONTENT: INDIRECT MENTIONS OF MURDER, GUN MENTIONS, THREATS ON READERS LIFE, MENTION OF PROSTITUTES, STD MENTIONS, NON-SEXUAL NUDITY, FINGERING, EXHIBITIONISM/VOUYERISM, QUICKIE, PROTECTED SEX ♱ ━━━ WC: 2.6K ♱ ━━━ PAIRING: CHAN X READER ♱ ━━━ 18+ work!! minors and ageless/blank blogs DNI! you will be blocked, put an indicator on your blog somewhere that you are 18+ before interacting with this work/blog ♱ ━━━ a repost from my old blog

     “So, I fucked a mafia boss?”

     “More or less,” Changbin replied

     “That’s kinda hot,” Y/n shrugged

     “Congrats Chan, you didn’t scare her off,” Seungmin gave the leader a thumbs-up

     “Can I get an explanation on the ‘Chan’ part? That’s the thing throwing me off.”

     “Did you tell you his name was Chris?” Felix asked

     “That’s what Changbin and I heard last night, or, early this morning?” Jisung stated

     “That’s embarrassing, damn.” Y/n sighed

     “I can kick them out still,” Chan told her, praying she’d tell him too

     “No, I want more of an explanation.”     Y/n was persistent, that was for sure. Felix took to explaining the current situation; alias’, how they all met, fell into crime and violence together, etc. Leaving out what they actually had done and what they did every day. The club front and mentioned a few others they had because eight people running one club were suspicious.

     “Wow, okay that’s a lot,” Y/n sighed, taking in the information she had just given

     “Chan,” Changbin said

     “Yeah. You guys get to work.”     The words left his lips and the seven guys made their way out of the penthouse, leaving the two. Chan sighed and turned from where he stood next to the counter to stand between her thighs, hands pressing against the cold counter. Y/n wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him closer.

     “I didn’t plan to tell you any of this,” Chan brought one hand up to hold her chin between his thumb and pointer finger

     “Is this the part where you tell me I can’t go back to my regular life? That I know too much?” Y/n was half joking. She’d read a couple of mafia lover books before, if they were anything like real life, she could guess what was coming.

     “You either stay with us or we make you disappear.” The look in his eyes was serious. Y/n just smiled at him.

     “You know, normal people don’t smile when their life is on the line,” Chan notified her

     “Well, guess I’m not normal then. You’re stuck with me.”

     “Y/n, please tell me you’ve thought this through.”

     “What? Stay with a hot gang leader who’s very sweet and has some funny friends who are equally as attractive or die?”

     “You’d be giving up you’re whole life, friends and all, princess. We can’t risk you running to the police.”

     “Chrissy, babe. If you haven’t figured it out by now, I’m not entirely right in the head. I don’t think a sane person would be as calm as I am about this whole thing. I swear I won’t go to the police or tell my friends about this. Most they will know if you’re a club owner and ask for free drinks. Do you want me to make a blood oath to you or something?”

     “No, you don’t need to go that far. It’s… It’s a lot more than me.”

     His head dropped as well as his hand. Laying on her thigh, “You wouldn’t be the first person we’ve brought into this. It usually doesn’t end well when they agree to stay.” 

     “Hey,” Y/n grabbed his face and made him look at her, “What aren't you telling me?”

     “Besides that, my friends are just as smitten with you as I am, if you stay with us you are going to get caught up in everything.”

     “That seems like a given. But I think eight hot men are good bodyguards.”

     “Just how fucked is that pretty little head of yours?”

     “I'm sure you'll figure it out soon,” Y/n pulled him in for a kiss.

     Chan laughed a bit as he kissed her back, gripping her hips, and pulled her closer to the ledge of the counter. Y/n pressed her torso up against his bare chest, hands wandering down to his shoulders and gripping his biceps. “You sure you wanna stay?” Chan pulled away from her lips.

     “Yes, Chris. Now stop worrying and fuck me again.” 

     Chan smiled, “You know, the guys are gonna want you too, right?” he leaned in and kissed down her neck

     “I don’t mind getting passed around,” Y/n chuckled, “But can you share?”

     “I can,” Chan answered, snaking and hand from her hips to under his shirt.

     He pushed his finger between her folds and let his thumb slowly run circles along her clit. Y/n laid her head back on the cabinet behind her as he pushed two fingers inside of her, slowly pumping them in and out of her.

     “Fuck Chrissy.”

     “Love when you call me that,” His voice was muffled against her neck. 

     “Chan! Do you not have you’re fucking phone on you!” Minho’s voice rang

     Chan sighed, not once even stopping his ministrations on her, “What is it now?”

     “Felix got into the cameras at the docs. A bunch of lower-grade thugs go—” Minho walked into the kitchen, “Before I go further, what are we doing with her?”

     “She’s staying with us,” Chan didn’t miss the smirk on his friend’s face.

     “Well, lower-grade thugs got their hands on some bigger-grade guns and ballistics—” Minho explained the situation but Y/n wasn’t paying much attention as Chan slipped a third finger into her and pressed harder on her clit. Chan’s attention wasn’t even on her anymore, he was fully involved in his conversation with Minho. She bit her lower lip to keep her moans at bay.

     “Don’t be quiet on the count of me kitten,” Minho stated, smirk returning to his face.

     Her eyes flickered over to the other man. The moment she caught his gaze, she clenched around Chan’s fingers. Minho’s eyes drifted across her body as he continued speaking with Chan. Eyes lingering just a tad too long on her exposed thighs. 

     “Find the guys and call me, I’ll handle it from there.”

     “You going to have your phone on you this time?”

     “Yes, now go.” 

     Minho smiled, leaving the two of them. Chan turned his attention back to the woman in front of him. His lips went back to her neck while his fingers picked up the pace inside her. 

     “You like being watched when you’re getting fucked,” Chan chuckled 

     “Don’t know what you mean.” His fingers left her seconds later, making her whine

     “I felt you clamp around my fingers when Minho walked in. Don’t play dumb,” Chan pulled himself out of his pants.

     “I could say the same for you. You didn’t stop fingering me when you were talking to him,” Y/n added as he opened a drawer and rummaged around before pulling out a condom, “Do you just conveniently keep condoms in your kitchen?”

     “You never know where you’re gonna fuck, might as well be prepared,” Chan smiled as he tore open the wrapper, rolling the rubber onto his cock

     “Thought you didn’t bring others home.”

     “Princess, we’ve all used prostitutes before,” Chan explained as he pulled her down from the counter, turning her around so his back was against his chest.

     Before she could even comment, Chan pushed into her in one fell swoop. Y/n let a high-pitched moan fall from their throat as leaned forward, putting her hands on the counter in front of her. Chan smiled, holding onto her hips and leaning forward, “So pretty,” he whispered against her neck

     He pulled back and thrusted back into her, not at a slow pace but also not at a fast pace. His lips left kisses along her neck, hands traveling away from her hips and pushing the t-shirt up. 

     “Faster,” Y/n groaned as his hands groped her breasts. 

     “Not yet princess,” Chan chuckled and his fingers tweaked her nipples

     Y/n gripped the marbled counter as her head hung low, deep shallow breaths falling from her lips, slightly pushing herself back onto him, meeting his steady thrusts. 

     “Trying to fuck yourself on me, Princess?” Chan gave her one rough thrust that stopped all thoughts in her head

     Chan was quick to learn last night the effect he might have had on her. Now he was certain of it and it made him smile. 

     He stood straight behind her and grabbed her hips again. He pulled back to the tip and quickly and roughly fucked back into her. Laughing at the curses that fell from her mouth. One hand moved down from her hips to rub her clit. The bit of pressure made her walls clamp around him and the knot in her stomach tightened faster between his thrusts and his fingers.

     Chan’s thrusts were making it hard for her to do— let alone think of —anything. Hands slipping from the counter a bit, taking Chan’s notice. He moved his other hand up from her hip up to the column of her throat. He had a loser hold there as he pulled her back against his chest. Y/n grabbed onto his arm to ground herself, just a little.

     “Even prettier like this,” Chan chuckled before she came undone on his cock. Chan thrusted up a few more times before coming in the condom. 

     Both caught their breaths before Chan pulled out and tossed the condom in the garbage. Y/n leaned against the counter before she was scooped up into his arms and carried back into the large bedroom. 

     “Don’t forget your phone or Minho will kill you,” Y/n giggled as he brought her into the bathroom 

     “I’d like to see him try,” Chan replied. He set her down on the counter before turning on the facet in the tub. Chan stepped out momentarily and came back with both their phones. 

     “Oh shit. Where was mine?” Y/n asked

     “On the floor in your bag by my bed,” Chan answered

     “Didn’t know I dropped it last night. Whoops,” Y/n grabbed her barely alive phone to check her messages 

     “We were both busy,” Chan smiled as he kissed her neck before going back to fix the bath for them. 

Karina: Im so fucking pissed. That dick was terrible last night and now I’m hungover as fuck Seana: I’m assuming none of us came last night then Karina: probably not Y/n? Did you go home with anyone last night

     It was pretty obvious that her two friends she was hanging out with had just gotten home. “Am I allowed to tell my friends I fucked the club owner?” Y/n asked

     “As long as that’s all you say,” Chan replied

     Y/n smiled at him. 

Y/n: I did!  Seana: oh bitch. who? Y/n: the owner 🤭

     Chan came up and stood between her legs and watched her screen 

Karina: no way! I don’t even think the employees have seen the owner. How do you know the guy wasn’t lying? Seana: someone’s jealous 🙄 Karina: im just saying. it’s unlikely 

     “Karina seems like a bitch,” Chan noted

     “She’s been worse.” Y/n sighed

Y/n: If this penthouse is anything to the money that club brings in 👀 Seana: YOU’RE STILL THERE Y/n: He knows how to make a girl cum and I didn’t have to tell him to put a condom on. fuck yes I’m still here Karina: damn. didn’t wanna go raw 🙄 Seana: that’s why you have an std, dumbass Karina: UNCALLED FOR??? Y/n: gtg. talk later 😉 Seana: have fun babe 😉 Karina: does he have friends?

     “I stand by my previous statement,” Chan said as Y/n set her phone to the side

     “Yeah. I just keep her around for entertainment at this point.” 

     “Bath’s ready Princess.” Chan slid his hands under the t-shirt she had on

     “Join me?” Y/n asked, hands wandering down to his sweats

     “Of course,” Chan slipped the shirt off and tossed it to the ground. Y/n pushed his pants down before he took over. Y/n hopped off the counter and Chan guided her over to the tub.

     He got in first and laid back against the porcelain as she got in and laid against his chest. His arms wrapped around her body. 

     “How do you feel about working in the club?” Chan asked after a few moments

     “Gonna make me a bottle service girl?” Y/n chuckled

     “No. People talk, I need you to listen. You’ll have a front job in management as well. You’re here, I might as well put you to use,” Chan explained 

     “Being you’re fuck toy isn’t a job?”

     “You’re human, princess. Not a doll for us to play with whenever we want.”

     “What exactly would I be doing for all of you then? You mentioned the others wanting me.”

     “We haven’t explicitly talked about it, but from the way they were looking at you earlier, I figured they’d all taken a bit of an interest in you. If I’m correct and they are, you’d be shared between all of us. In return, we’ll provide you with everything you need.”

     “Like a sugar baby? That’s what this sounds like to me.”

     “Whatever you want to call it love. But, you’ll also be an informant for us. Men don't talk to us but give them a pretty face offering a drink and they’ll spill anything.”

     “But don’t sleep with the enemy? Come back to each of you every night?” 

     “Hm. Not every night. I’ll provide you with your own place in the building, we’ll all have free reign to your place as well, but you’ll have the same to our places as well. Some may be a bit more clingy than others so beware.”

     “Do you own the building too?”

     “Yes. It is usually the eight of us that just live here, but now,” Chan leaned down and kissed her shoulder, “You’ll be here.”

     “Sounds like fun.”

     Chan smiled, kissing up her neck before his phone rang. Chan got up from the tub and stepped out. He made his way over to the counter and picked up his phone. “Hello?”

     Y/n enjoyed the warm water, sinking lower. Relaxing her muscles from all they’d been through last night and this morning.

     “Alright. Get over to mine to watch Y/n, I’ll head down there.”

     Her head popped up at the mention of her name. “Where are you going?”

     “Work. Minho and Jisung are coming down to take care of you until I get back. I’m sure Minho will give you some more details on the arrangement,” Chan grabbed a towel to dry off and walked out of the room to get dressed, “I’ll have them take you to your place to pack up what you need. I should be done by the time you get back to have your new place set up,” Chan called from inside the room

     “Alrighty,” Y/n spoke, washing herself off. Chan brought in a clean t-shirt for her and cleaned up the clothes on the floor before he kissed the top of her head, “I won’t be long princess.”

     “Have fun,” Y/n replied. Chan patted the top of her head as he walked out of the bathroom. He sent a text to his two friends telling them to take her to pack her things. He made a quick stop in his closet again to grab his gun from its safe. 

     He made sure it was locked again before he left his room. Minho and Jisung walked in from the elevator. 

     “She’s still washing up,” Chan told them as he headed to the elevator. 

     “Got it, boss,” Jisung said

     “I told her about the arrangement as well.”

     Both the men smiled at the mention. They could have some fun with this.

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[serahlink]

‼️EMERGENCY COMMS OPEN! || HELP A HOMELESS ARTIST ‼️

Reblogs are greatly appreciated!! :")

Making another commissions post since things have been getting worse as the month goes on. For those who are just coming across this, my name is Link and I'm a 22 y/o homeless artist. My family and I (father and younger sibling) have been in this situation for about three years now since November 2021 and I've been doing commissions to support us until something changes. We don't have anywhere to go or anyone to really turn to financially or housing wise, so we've been on our own since then. My father has managed to get his ID but with no transportation and jobs being too far out, it's made job hunting more difficult and we've yet to find anything.

This month has been one of the toughest with us owing 100$+ due to not being able to pay the daily rent. We do get extensions here but they're hard to keep up with when they double so quickly and work is becoming more hard to come by, and bumping posts on my other socials hasn't done much for us. Sadly, tonight isn't any different. We owe 190$ for tonight and for the last three days, we've been unable to get anything for it. If we can't pay tonight then we will be forced to leave, and I'm not sure what we'll do if we can't cover it.

My commissions are open for anyone interested in supporting us that way, but reblogs/shares also help us a ton since it helps spread the word to possibly get us the help we need :") I'm a fantasy oriented artist, mainly surrounding fandoms like DND, Baldurs Gate 3, Skyrim and Dragon Age, but I've done non fantasy related things as well like furries, feral creatures, comic or modern characters, I'm welcome to pretty much any fandom or request! My only donts are anything excessively violent or sexual (nonsexual nudity is okay), proship/all around that sorta content, and anything hateful (homophobia/transphobia/racism/etc.) if you have any questions about what I will do/wont do that isnt listed here, feel free to ask!

My turn around time can ranged from four weeks or shorter to a month or two given the complexity and how my situation is going at the time. I only take payments upfront with no refunds since we use the money immediately for the room or food and are unable to give proper refunds. My prices will be below and my messages will be open for anyone interested in supporting us that way, thank you so so much if you do help or reblog, I can't tell you how much we appreciate it. Especially with how things are going now.

~Prices~

Sketch (price depending on type of sketch) - base price of 15$

Sketch page - 15$ per sketch

Headshot - 25$ (+10$ if shaded)

Bust - 35$ (+10$ if shaded)

Expression Sheet (minimum of 3 heads per sheet, 10$+ per extra head) - 45$ (10$+ if shaded)

Half body - 50$ (+10$ if shaded)

Full body - 70$ (+15$ if shaded)

Couples Commission (a commission that includes two people) - 90$ (+15$ if shaded)

Group commissions (commission that includes more than two people, price dependant on the details) - 60 base price(one character, unshaded; each extra character is +75% to the original price) (40$+ if shaded) 

Paintings